Uncanny Kingdom: An Eleven Book Urban Fantasy Collection (Uncanny Kingdom Omnibus 1)

by David Bussell

  I didn’t answer.

  Yes, deep down, I found it hard to believe that the Chloe Palmer I knew would wind up on the road she had, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened. Didn’t mean it was anyone other than herself calling the shots.

  But I wanted to believe it. And if monsters, and demons, and souls were real, who’s to say an evil spirit that could possess a person wasn’t also true?

  ‘Joe!’

  Chloe was starting to flicker like one of the dud bulbs I should have been seeing to.

  ‘Tell me where you are, Chloe, I’ll find you.’

  ‘I don’t know. I think I’m trapped between worlds somehow. And I think something is coming to get me. I can feel it.’

  ‘I’ll find you, I promise.’

  Chloe reached out one last time, and then the only person I saw in the mirror was me.

  As I drove to the coven, I knew I might be about to attempt something absurd. I knew I was taking a risk. I knew that just because Chloe said one thing, didn’t mean it was true. The strange, magical world I found myself living in could be a duplicitous so-and-so, but I had to try, didn’t I? Had to hope.

  One way or another, I was going to figure this thing out. My first port of call was the coven, where I expected to find Eva. I knew talking to her was most likely a waste of time—after all, she’d already made her position on Chloe’s apparent resurrection quite clear—but I was prepared to chisel away at her some more. Eva wasn’t home though, which lead me to Plan B.

  The library.

  Maybe there was something among all of those books that could help me. As I stepped into the room and cast my eyes across the jumble of anonymous, identical-looking tomes, my heart took a cliff dive. This was a fool’s errand, in more ways than one. How on earth was I going to find anything useful among all that knowledge when I had no idea where to look or what I was even looking for?

  ‘It’s probably in this book here,’ came a familiar voice. I turned to see the fox, sporting, as always, its Roman helmet. It pointed its battle-axe at a large tome discarded in a far corner.

  ‘You didn’t say your catchphrase,’ I said.

  ‘My what?’

  ‘You know,’ I shook a fist at the roof, “All hail the saviour!” You always say that. It’s your thing.’

  The fox stepped from foot to foot and scratched at its head. ‘I do?’

  ‘Is there a reason you’re here?’

  ‘Yes, help! I help. Helped you with that stone, didn’t I?’

  ‘I thought I’d seen you.’

  ‘Gave you a little taste. Made you feel strong, yes?’

  I closed my eyes and remembered that feeling. That amazing, terrifying feeling.

  ‘You sleeping?’ asked the fox.

  ‘Not enough, no.’ I opened my eyes again and strode across the room. I picked up the heavy volume the fox had indicated. ‘How do you know this is the book I need?’

  The fox shrugged. ‘I see things, I know things. That’s me.’

  I lugged the book over to the gnarled desk and dropped it down heavily. It gave off a mildew kind of odour as I spread it open.

  ‘So, what spell or incantation will I need?’

  The pages of the book whipped past of their own accord before settling on a spell.

  ‘Okay, that was a bit not normal.’

  ‘That’s the spell. Can save her. Bring her back.’

  I looked down into the fox’s eager eyes.

  ‘Why, exactly, would you be helping me?’

  ‘I am the fox. From the Dark Lakes. I help you.’

  ‘I’m not going to accept your redheaded mistress’s demand to take up any throne, you know. Especially not a throne made of skulls that will turn me into some sort of super-powered hellion.’

  ‘You say that now, say something different later, yes.’

  ‘Nope. I’m a good person. In the main.’

  The fox tutted as it picked at the blade of its axe. ‘You have been good for ten years. It’s a phase, that is all.’

  I ignored the fox and started to look through the spell. I came upon a problem pretty sharpish.

  ‘What language is this exactly?’

  ‘Magic.’

  ‘Magic? The language magic?’

  The fox nodded.

  ‘Can you read it?’

  ‘I am just a fox. Foxes cannot read, in my experience.’

  ‘Yes, but then most foxes can’t talk, either.’

  ‘We talk plenty,’ he sulked.

  ‘Sorry. So, what do I do now?’

  ‘Be magic.’

  ‘Oh, just that? Just be magic.’

  ‘The Red Woman could help.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure, with no demands attached. Just doing little old me a no-strings solid.’

  The fox looked at me confused. ‘No, she will expect you to become the Magic Eater.’

  ‘You don’t really get sarcasm, do you?’

  I started at the sound of the front door opening and closing. Eva was back.

  ‘Shit it. Shit, shitty, shit it! You’ve got to hide.’

  But, of course, the fox had already done his customary disappearing act. I closed the useless magic book, smoothed down my clothes, put on my best nothing-dodgy-going-on-here smile, and sauntered through into the front room. Whereupon Eva threw a fireball in my direction which narrowly missed my head.

  ‘Shit!’ I cried.

  ‘Oh, it’s you.’

  ‘You could’ve killed me!’

  ‘Lots of times. Lots and lots. There you stand by my good graces. What’re you doing here?’

  ‘Nothing dodgy. All above board, I can assure you of that.’

  Eva narrowed her eyes and looked past me.

  ‘What were you doing in the library?’

  ‘Just, you know, browsing. I was going to try a bit of magic revision, but it turns out the books are all written in gibberish.’

  ‘You’re nervous, idiot. What are you nervous about?’

  I dithered this way and that before Eva was distracted by her phone.

  ‘What?’ she said, answering the call. ‘Right. Give us twenty.’

  She pocketed the phone and lit a cigarette.

  ‘Good news?’

  Eva shrugged, ‘Depends on your predilections. We’ve got another dried-out stiff.’

  I can’t deny feeling a teensy bit grateful for the timing of the latest horrific murder. Which really did not make me feel too good about myself, I can tell you.

  17

  The scene of the crime was a little different this time. No house, instead I found myself parking up near a small, humpback bridge.

  ‘Aw no,’ said Eva, sitting up from her usual position in the back seat. ‘Aw no, no no.’

  ‘What? What’s wrong? I mean, besides the obvious deathy situation?’

  ‘Come on,’ she said, and stepped out of the car, heading down the bank toward the underneath of the small, stone bridge where a huddle of police officers and forensics were milling around.

  ‘Eva?’

  I followed her down the damp incline, almost slipping as I did so. And then I did slip, landing in a heap at someone’s feet. I looked up to see Maya.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘No one saw.’

  I looked around to see several officers laughing and nudging each other.

  ‘Apart from everyone over there, I mean.’

  ‘Good. Great.’

  I stood and regained my composure as best I could, then followed Maya over to the body. Eva was already crouched by its side. As with the others, it was completely shrivelled and dried out.

  ‘Is it another one of you magic people?’ asked Maya.

  ‘Yup. He’s an Uncanny, alright.’

  ‘We couldn’t find any sort of I.D. on him,’ said Maya.

  ‘No need. I know this fella. A troll who went by the name Tony. Tony the troll. Me and him used to drink like demons in our younger days. He could really hold his booze. Well, for a troll.’

  ‘A tr
oll,’ said Maya, nodding. ‘Okay. Dead troll. Of course.’

  I patted her on the shoulder, ‘It just continues to get weirder, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Do I look like your loyal family pet?’

  I stopped the patting.

  ‘You can see drag marks to and from the body here, look,’ said Maya, pointing down at the dirt.

  ‘The stones,’ I said. ‘Elga and her Kin.’

  ‘Are you two any further along with that?’ she asked.

  ‘Ah, well, no. Not as such,’ I replied.

  ‘I have someone we can talk to about it. Local know-it-all,’ said Eva.

  Mickey Finn’s is a pub on the outskirts of Keswick, the small town I live in. It’s a pub that—up until this moment—I had neither seen nor heard of, which, if you knew Keswick, would seem impossible. Live there for even the shortest length of time, and you’ll have seen and visited every place there is to visit.

  But not Mickey Finn’s. Mickey Finn’s was only meant to be seen by a certain very specific type of clientele. Namely, Uncanny people.

  Like the coven, it sat at the end of a blind alley; and this time it lived up fully to its name.

  ‘What am I supposed to be looking at?’ asked Maya, staring at what looked to her like a solid brick wall.

  ‘Mickey Finn’s,’ replied Eva. ‘Not much to look at, but it’s got booze, crisps, and a jukebox containing nothing that came out post-1976, so its fucking belter. Come on.’

  Eva walked into the alley, and Maya made a small, strangled sound as she stagger-stepped back.

  ‘She disappeared! The bitch disappeared!’

  I won’t lie, it was a nice feeling not to be the one struggling to keep up. The one floundering, wide-eyed, at the latest possible impossibility.

  ‘It’s called a blind alley,’ I explained, swaggering around in a somewhat insufferable manner. ‘We magic sorts use them to keep certain places secret and safe from unwanted visitors.’

  Eva stepped back out of the alley, causing Maya to let out another cry and bunny hop back.

  ‘You coming or what?’

  ‘Blind alley,’ I said.

  ‘Huh? Oh!’ Eva placed her hand against Maya’s head. ‘See.’

  Maya swatted the hand aside and made to give Eva a piece of her mind, then stopped. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yup,’ I said. ‘Come along, you two.’

  I strode into the alley, towards the little pub nestled at the far end, Eva and Maya following on.

  ‘No one likes you when you’re smug, idiot,’ said Eva. ‘Or just in general, actually.’

  Mickey Finn’s was what you might call an old school pub. By which I mean it looked like something from medieval times. Well, apart from the jukebox which was currently playing Jolene by Dolly Parton.

  The floor was dirt, scattered with hay, the beer decanted from large barrels with simple taps hammered into them.

  We stepped inside and the drinkers paused their conversations to see who we were. I was more than a little aware of a few harsh looks and whispered curses thrown specifically in my direction.

  ‘Stay cool,’ Eva told the patrons of Mickey Finn’s. ‘The idiot’s with me. If anyone wants to start something though, I currently have my fighting fists on.’

  The drinkers went back to their conversations.

  ‘Not too popular in here, then,’ said Maya.

  ‘I’ve never even been here.’

  ‘Oh yeah, you have,’ said Eva. ‘And everyone here knows what a piece of shit you are. Were. Whatever. Come on.’

  Eva wandered over to the bar as I tried to put on a brave, not scared face.

  ‘What exactly did you get up to in the past?’ asked Maya.

  ‘Oh, you know, we all do stupid things when we’re young.’ I scampered after Eva, who already had the giant, broken-nosed, shaven-headed barman filling three jugs with beer.

  ‘So, who’s your source?’ asked Maya.

  ‘Malden,’ said Eva, blowing the froth off her drink as it was handed over. ‘Still an expert at giving head I see, Grunt.’

  The barman grunted.

  ‘Appropriate name,’ I said. Grunt glared at me and shoved my drink over, spilling about half of it in the process. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Come on, he’s over there,’ said Eva.

  We joined a rather ratty looking man, who was sat by himself in one corner. When I say ratty, I mean ratty. His clothes were a tattered jumble, his fingers filthy with long nails, his ears and teeth pointy, just like a rodent’s.

  ‘Malden,’ said Eva, nodding and taking a seat.

  ‘Eva, how nice to see you. When was the last time we spoke? Oh, it must have been years and years and years and years ago. How many years is it? Now, it must be more than six. I bet it’s more than six, isn’t it? Maybe eight.’

  ‘You’ll have to forgive Malden,’ said Eva, ‘he is massively boring.’

  ‘It can’t be ten, can it?’

  ‘Yup. Ten years. Only got back to the Lakes recently. Been doing a tour of the country since, well…’ she gestured in my direction.

  ‘Janto,’ said Malden, raising his glass to me, I raised mine in return.

  ‘Oh, Janto to you too.’ I leaned over to Eva. ‘Janto, is that magic for hello?’

  ‘No, that’s your real name.’

  I may have taken a few silent seconds to digest that one.

  ‘Janto is my name? My real name?’ It occurred to me then that I actually hadn’t even asked what my old name, my real name, had been. I’d given myself the name Joseph Lake. Looks like I got the first letter right at least.

  ‘Do I have a second name?’

  ‘No, just Janto. Witches don’t need second names.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Maya, ‘but, what exactly are you, Malden?’

  ‘Oh, I’m an eaves.’

  ‘An eaves.’

  ‘We eaves like to lurk about. Listen to things. Gather secrets and sell them on. It’s a very interesting line of work, actually.’

  ‘No it isn’t, Malden,’ said Eva, ‘we need something from you.’

  I raised my hand. ‘Is it okay if I keep going by Joseph? Joseph feels like me.’

  ‘Fine by me,’ said Eva, ‘Janto has a really shitty association for me. What’s your price, Malden?’

  ‘The usual.’

  ‘Money?’ asked Maya. ‘Are we paying for this intel?’

  ‘No,’ said Eva. ‘Well, yeah. But not cash, Malden and the rest of his kind trade info for magic.’

  ‘So, Eva, Janto, Officer, what is it you would like to know?’

  ‘Malden,’ I said, ‘there’s a stone circle we’ve been looking for.’

  ‘Lot of stone circles around these parts,’ he replied. ‘I’ve got a long, winding, fascinating story about stone circles, actually, if you’d like to hear it.’

  ‘No thanks,’ said Eva, ‘but I’ll keep the offer in mind if I want to be bored to death.’

  Malden laughed. ‘See, that’s what I like about you, Eva. You’re so rude. You also have a very nice bottom. For a familiar.’

  ‘He wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true,’ said Eva, waggling her eyebrows at Maya.

  ‘We want to ask about a specific stone circle,’ I said.

  ‘Shoot.’

  ‘Elga and her Kin.’

  Malden nodded and scratched at his scabby chin with his sharp, yellow fingernails, skin flaking off and drifting down onto his jumper like some sort of really disgusting snowfall.

  ‘Elga and her Kin, eh? Yeah, I know that.’

  ‘Brilliant! Is there a reason we didn’t come and ask this question right away?’ I said, turning to Eva.

  Eva shrugged, ‘What fun is going the easy route all the time?’

  ‘I’m sure Tony the Troll would have an answer to that,’ I replied.

  Maya slid a pad and pen across, ‘Could you write down the exact location for us?’

  ‘Be my pleasure.’

  He scrawled down a location, there was only one problem.

&nbs
p; ‘Actually, we’ve already tried there,’ I said. ‘Remember when I got the weird feeling and stopped? That was the place. There was nothing there.’

  ‘Didn’t happen to go during the day, did you?’ asked Malden.

  ‘Yeah, why?’

  ‘Of course!’ said Eva, slapping her palm against her forehead.

  ‘Of course what?’ asked Maya.

  ‘It’s a night circle, isn’t it?’ said Eva.

  ‘Complete night circle, yeah,’ said Malden.

  ‘What’s a night circle?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, it’s only visible at night,’ replied Malden. ‘You can’t see it while the sun’s up.’

  ‘The stones only attacked at night,’ said Maya. ‘So that makes a sort of sense.’

  ‘You know,’ said Malden, ‘I’ve got a nice story about that circle, too, if you’ve got thirty or forty minutes to spare.’

  Eva downed her drink, then Maya’s, then mine, before unleashing a burp that could have brought down a passing plane.

  ‘Looks like we’re all done, sorry.’ Eva then clicked her fingers and the air around her hand began to sparkle and glow. ‘Get that down you, love.’ She flicked the sparkles and they drifted over to the grasping Malden, who gobbled it up with his small, dagger teeth like a man who hadn’t eaten in days.

  ‘Now, that’s good magic,’ said Malden.

  As we headed for the exit, I was feeling sort of good. We had new information, we knew what and where the circle was. The investigation had stepped forward and we were actually getting somewhere. I may even have been smiling. And that’s when my phone started to vibrate. It was the hospital.

  ‘Hello?’ I said, answering. ‘I’m not late for a shift, am I?’

  ‘Joe,’ said Big Marge, ‘it’s your friend, Annie.’

  I felt my body turn cold, ‘What about her?’

  ‘You’d better get over here.’

  I pocketed my phone and ran from the pub.

  18

  Annie did not look at all well as I entered her hospital room. Hardly surprising really, you tend not to look your best after a car has smashed into you, throwing your rag doll body up and through the air, to land in a bloody heap on the side of the road.