‘You come to my home with accusations, questioning my control over my own family? That shows either surprising bravery, or extreme stupidity. Which is it?’
‘I’d say a little from column A, a little from column B,’ said David.
‘Can you explain the picture, Anya?’ I said. ‘If it wasn’t caused by a succubus, what else could it be?’
‘There are any number of things that might have done that, as well you know. I’m sure you yourself could manipulate a spell to do something similar.’
Perhaps I could, but I’d been close to the corpse, and no magic spell had caused it. I would be able to see evidence of that, be able to taste it. The specific Uncanny residue of witchcraft.
‘Well, thanks a lot for your time,’ said David, in his best police man voice.
‘Oh, it’s always a pleasure to see you, detective. Do come back any time.’
‘Yep,’ said David, his voice a squeak, before looking to me and pointing to the exit.
‘Stella?’ said Anya.
I stopped and turned.
‘If you come in here and accuse my family on such flimsy evidence again, I will mount and feed upon you until that old body of yours finally gives out. It will be… delicious. Do I make myself clear?’
I nodded and left.
6
We made our way back through The Den, again doing our best to ignore the various acts of depravity going on around us.
‘Do you believe her?’ asked David.
‘Not sure. Maybe. Anya’s a very good liar, but then again, why lie? If it really was one of her own, it would make more sense for her family to have jumped us en masse back there and torn us to pieces.’
‘Right. Well. That’s reassuring.’
Then again, maybe Anya wasn’t in quite such close control of her sisters as she liked to think. That’s not something she’d admit to easily, or at all to someone like me. No, as far as I was concerned, Anya and her family were still very much in the frame for this, at least until a more likely culprit raised their head.
‘Hey,’ said David, ‘isn’t that your new bestest bud in the whole world over there?’
I turned in the direction he was pointing and saw a pile of rags piled upon a couch in a darkened corner of the club. It was Eva, curled up in a ball and snoring as a fat woman wearing leather lederhosen whipped a hairy-backed man in a gimp-mask chained to the wall beside her. As the whip cracked and the man screamed, Eva remained fast asleep, oblivious.
‘Shit,’ said David, looking at his watch. ‘The guv is going to think I’ve gone missing again.’
‘Go. Let me know if Layland has anything new for us.’
‘Will do, magic lady. Stay safe.’
I watched him leave. He looked and sounded fine. You’d never know he’d turned into something so… Uncanny, just a few weeks earlier. Maybe the Knot Man was wrong. Maybe Eva was wrong. Maybe it would all be okay.
Yeah, wishful thinking.
I made my way over to Eva and sat beside her.
‘Hey.’
‘I’m asleep,’ she replied.
I shook her and she sat up, groaning, the whites of her eyes as red as strawberries.
‘Christ on a bike, I think someone crawled inside my head and knocked some walls down.’
I picked up a glass half-full of something and passed it over to her; she downed it in one and shuddered.
‘That’s the stuff,’ she said, then glanced about to collect her bearings. ‘So, where are we, exactly?’ She jumped as the fat woman’s whip cracked against the gimp’s back and he let rip a sharp cry.
‘The Den.’
‘The what? Oh, yes, yep, I’ve got you. A whole lot of filthy buggers in here. I mean, I’d heard stories of course, but blimey. This right here is some next level filth.’
Another cry as the whip left a fresh, livid mark.
‘’Scuse me, love, do you mind,’ asked Eva, trying to get the woman to let up her assault for a moment.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
‘I’m a tourist, just taking in the sights.’
‘You do know who runs this place?’
‘Mr The Den?’
‘Anya, a succubus.’
‘Oh, one of those sorts. I thought I caught a whiff of something, but then I’ve stuck so much up my nose recently it can be easy to make mistakes. Know what I mean?’
‘Not really.’
Another whip crack, another scream.
‘Oi, tons of fun, I won’t tell you again,’ said Eva.
The woman grunted, her flesh quivering in annoyance.
‘So, what are you into then, my girl?’ she asked me.
‘What?’
‘What’s your poison? You must’ve come here for a reason. A little light bondage? Fight club? Daddy play?’
‘No! No, no, no. None of that. I came here to ask the succubus who runs the place some questions, about a murder.’
‘Ooh, I do love a good murder.’
I pulled out my phone and showed Eva the dried-out corpse.
‘Now that, is one ugly fucker.’
‘Look like a succubus attack to you?’
Another cry from the gimp.
‘One moment, love,’ said Eva. She flashed out her hand and caught the whip just as the fat woman was about to give the gimp another bloody streak across his arching back.
The woman turned to Eva. ‘Oi,’ she said, ‘what’s your game?’
‘Me and my friend here are trying to have a civil conversation, you sack of mayonnaise, and it’s awfully tricky with all the screaming.’
The woman shrieked and lunged at Eva, who uttered an incantation under her breath and sent the woman flying through the air, pudgy legs whirling like she was on a bicycle, before a wall broke her fall and she crashed down to the floor, unconscious.
‘You know,’ said Eva, ‘in my experience, women in lederhosen are always very unreasonable.’
‘Ladies.’
‘Ladies.’
Jack and Jake, the Den’s bouncers.
‘What is it now?’ I asked.
‘Familiar’s Anonymous meeting is it?’
‘Sorry,’ I said, standing slowly, trying not to give them any more reason to get agitated. ‘The lady in the leather trousers started it when she charged my friend here.’
‘Is that so?’ asked Jake.
‘Oh, is that so, is it?’ said Jack.
‘Yes,’ replied Eva, ‘So why don’t you two numbskulls toddle off before I rearrange those flat faces of yours, hm? Come on Stella, are we going to chat with Giles L’Merrier or what?’’
Eva stood and shoved past the pair, staggering towards The Den’s exit. Jack and Jake looked at each other, slowly blinking in surprise, then turned to me.
‘Sorry guys, bit of a mouth on her, that one.’
I jogged past to catch up with Eva, leaving the befuddled pair behind before their surprised confusion turned to anger.
7
‘Do you mind telling me how you knew I was going to pay Giles L’Merrier a visit?’ I asked as the tube shot Eva and I towards L’Merrier’s Antiques.
‘Oh, I saw the summons on the card you keep teasing at without realising you’re doing it.’
I pulled my hand away from the card that I was holding onto in my pocket.
‘Did you see who delivered it?’
‘Nope. But then I don’t suppose the big man utilises delivery boys and such, do you? More of a flim-flam and away we magically go sort of message transference, I’d say.’
Well, if anyone had the power to bypass the coven’s security so they could deliver a note, it would be Giles L’Merrier. Better that than actually leave his shop, or pick up the phone. If anything, I was surprised he hadn’t transported me there already against my will.
Eva placed her hands behind her head as she propped her boots up on the frayed seat opposite. ‘Lyna, one of my witches, she told stories of L’Merrier over the centuries. Truth be told, I think she had a
bit of a crush on the big man. I asked if they’d ever knocked boots and she turned me into a frog for six months.’ She threw her head back and laughed uproariously, which drew more than a few concerned glances from the other passengers in the carriage.
‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘My witches used to talk about the sort of things he’d get up to.’
Eva nodded, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes onto her sleeves as her giggles finally died down.
‘Lyna once told me about how a gaggle of witch hunters had the coven surrounded. Before my time this, you understand.’
Before Eva’s time was a hell of a long time ago, by the way. If what I’d been told was true, she was probably the oldest living familiar in existence, though to look at her you’d swear she was in her late thirties at most.
‘So, they’d tried everything against these Godless fuckers and nothing had worked. What’s more, the turds had already dispatched my predecessor. Chopped her up and fed the bits to their horses. Bit grim....’ Eva’s eyes dropped and her head began to nod.
‘Eva!’
‘What? Yes?’
‘L’Merrier! L’Merrier and the witch hunters.’
‘Right! Are we on a train?’
Focus was not one of Eva’s gifts.
‘So, Lyna and the rest are completely surrounded, their familiar dead, powers drained, thinking they’re goners. Would’ve been too, but then up out of nowhere appears L’Merrier, large as life and twice as fierce. Is that a saying? I think I ballsed that up. Anyway, he had an enchanted tree branch in his big hands, and he whack-whack-whacked each of the witch hunters’ heads off, then threw their bodies into Derwent Water, one of the great lakes. Threw their horses in too for good measure. Trapped ‘em for good in The Nether. That’s just the sort of shit he did, before he went soft, figuratively and literally, judging by the blubber he carts around on him these days.’
Every story anyone told about L’Merrier in the old days made him sound like some sort of a god. To meet the grumpy sod who never strayed from the insides of his shop, it was difficult to match the two pictures up.
‘Do you know why he stopped?’ I asked. ‘Why he just stays in his shop these days?’
Eva shrugged. ‘Buggered if I know, but then even the best of fun gets boring, given time.’
Eva seemed to sag, her eyes becoming hooded, distant, looking at something I couldn’t see. I knew what it must be, because I know I often have that expression when I’m thinking about a certain something. David had told me often enough.
‘You’re thinking about them aren’t you? Your witches?’ he’d say, and I’d nod, hoping a tear wouldn’t escape if I blinked.
Eva’s witches were dead, just like mine.
We sat in silence for the rest of the journey, listening to the clack clack clack of the wheels on the track.
8
Like I said, L’Merrier isn’t the type of person who encourages visits. As a matter of fact, he’s warned me on more than one occasion to never darken his doorstep again. Needless to say, this mysterious summons of his had me more than a little curious.
And wary.
‘This the place is it?’ asked Eva.
‘Yes, the shop with the sign that reads “L’Merriers Antiques” is the shop we’re meeting L’Merrier in,’ I replied.
‘Smart arse.’
I pushed the door open, the little bell jangling to announce our entrance.
‘L’Merrier, it’s me, Stella Familiar.’
I peered around the shop, packed full of a jumble of strange objects, some everyday, others of the more Uncanny variety.
‘Is that a giant’s heart over there?’ asked Eva.
‘Yup.’
‘Now that’s not the sort of souvenir you pick up in your average gift shop. That’s something else, that is.’ She stopped and sniffed the air. ‘It stinks of magic in here. I mean, I thought your coven was heavy with it, but this place...’ She wafted a hand in front of her nose.
‘Familiar.’ A deep, smooth voice rolling out from the shadows.
‘Christ,’ said Eva, ‘You nearly gave me a heart attack.’
L’Merrier, in his floor-length robe with its sewn on symbols of protection, glided out of the dark, his fingers interlaced and resting on top of his bulging stomach.
‘I came,’ I said, ‘as asked.’
‘Congratulations for indicating the obvious, familiar,’ he replied. ‘I do not recall adding a “plus one” to the invitation.’
‘You’re bald,’ noted Eva. ‘Lyna never mentioned anything about you being bald.’
L’Merrier turned to Eva, ‘Ah, it is you, the errant leftovers from the Cumbrian Coven. Always running, running, running from her responsibilities. From her true place and purpose. As though she has any future that does not include her return to the dark lakes.’
‘Yup, that’s me,’ she chirped.
Was that almost a smile on L’Merrier’s face?
‘A pair of tragic orphans in my humble shop; it seems witches are becoming an endangered species, does it not?’
‘That’s enough,’ I said, feeling a little seed of anger sprout. He could say what he liked about me, but I wouldn’t stand for him mocking my dead.
‘A little fire in the belly, familiar?’ asked L’Merrier, one eyebrow raising with amusement.
Eva inhaled noisily, ‘You know, Giles, it really bloody reeks in here. It smells like you’ve been farting out your own brand of magic in a sealed room for twenty years. Crack a window, mate.’
L’Merrier swept one hand in front of himself and Eva found herself pinned to the ceiling.
‘Let her down!’ I yelled, stepping automatically into a boxer’s stance, my hands raised, boiling with magic.
‘Short temper on you, chubs,’ said Eva, ‘you should speak to someone about that.’
There was a heavy, silent pause, then L’Merrier burst out laughing, which was more disturbing than it sounds. With a twitch of his head he killed the spell and sent Eva tumbling back down to the floor.
‘L’Merrier,’ I said, slowly relaxing and allowing the magic to putter out from my fists, ‘Are you going to tell me why you asked me here or not?’
L’Merrier bowed his head, then looked up, fixing me with his eyes. They shone like golden coins in the dark.
‘You know why I have asked you here.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘But you must suspect.’
David.
‘There,’ said L’Merrier.
‘What about David?’
‘I believe you had a very particular visitor to your coven recently.’
I shuffled, uncomfortable. ‘I’m not sure I—’
‘Do not play dumber than you are, familiar, you know exactly of whom I speak.’
Eva raised a hand. ‘Not sure I do. Unless it’s me. Is it me?’
‘The Knot Man,’ I said.
‘Exactly so.’
‘The Knot Man?’ replied Eva. ‘Have I heard of him? I think I’ve heard of him. Far as I can tell, having him show up on your doorstep is never a good thing. Though, when is anyone turning up on your doorstep unannounced ever a good thing, am I right? Give me a “praise Jesus” if you know what I’m talking about. Okay, I’m bored now, I’m going for a ciggy outside.’
The doorbell jangled as Eva left the shop, pulling a tobacco tin out of her inside pocket.
‘First your pet detective, and now that stray,’ sighed L’Merrier. ‘Such delightful company you keep.’
‘What do you want to say about David?’
L’Merrier moved over to a glass display case, inside of which was what looked like a large hunk of rock.
‘Do you know what this is?’ he asked.
‘No,’ I replied.
‘This is a piece of Apoc Hill.’
‘Is that supposed to mean something to me?’
‘No, it is not of this reality, it is of another, parallel earth, but it is relevant to this conversation. The Apoc Hill came to rest i
n the north, heralding a game. A battle between the light and the dark that almost resulted in that reality’s version of Hell rising and taking control of the Earth. Well, of that Earth. The Knot Man was there, as he walks between realities. Any time he pays someone a visit, it is just before a point of calamity. So forgive me for being curious when my web jangles and twitches and I look up to see him knock, knock, knocking upon your door.’
The idea that L’Merrier kept watch on things—kept watch on my coven—shouldn’t have creeped me out. Knowing his power, I should have expected it. But the idea of him watching me, peeping into my home, still made me squirm.
‘What do you think is going to happen?’ I asked.
‘David is no longer what he was,’ L’Merrier replied. ‘He’s been altered in some way by you introducing him into our world. I wonder what you made him face that changed him so. That is still changing him.’
I thought about the black magic I’d used to bring David back to life after Mr. Trick left him for dead, but I kept it to myself. Despite his own fondness for it, L’Merrier was known for turning others who used the dark arts to dust.
‘What is he changing into?’ I asked.
‘You already know. The Knot Man told you.’
A walking apocalypse.
‘He has no control over it, the poor thing,’ L’Merrier continued, ‘he’s just walking around blind in his little life, oblivious to the fact that his body is drawing in more and more power, more of the Uncanny, more potential, and, sooner or later, there will be a tipping point. He’s like a black hole, only instead of dragging light into his belly, he’s pulling in magic. At a steadily increasing pace, I might add. And then…’
‘And then what?’
L’Merrier spread his hands out, his face grave: ‘Boom.’
He wants to destroy him. To destroy David. That’s what L’Merrier wants, it’s what the Knot Man suggested too. No chances, no help, just cold-blooded murder.
‘He can control it,’ I said. ‘I can teach him.’
‘Oh no, not even I could do that, and compared to me you are but an ant, crawling across the toe of an elephant. The die is already cast. The power is filling him up. It will turn him monstrous, and then goodbye, London. His end must come, for the good of all.’
Uncanny Kingdom: An Eleven Book Urban Fantasy Collection (Uncanny Kingdom Omnibus 1) Page 29
