It was a cat.
It was laid out on the tiles of the kitchen floor, it’s intestines yanked out of a tear in its belly.
Why do this? What was the point?
I reached out and touched the cat, drawing the house’s magic into me. I wanted to see.
This time the sight magic wasn’t blocked. Unlike with the sheep, or with Mr Madden, the killer wanted me to see. Had no reason to hide their identity from me anymore.
The world as I saw it was torn away and I was now looking with something else’s eyes. With the dead cat’s eyes. Witnessing its final moments.
I was low to the ground, brushing through the grass in the back garden. I was hunting. My every instinct was trained on the mouse that was trying to evade me, but then a new sound caught my attention.
Prey forgotten, I padded to the back door, pushing my way into the kitchen through the cat flap.
‘Please, don’t hurt her!’
Annie’s voice. Desperate, anguished, terrified.
I could see her now, backed into a corner, her body between her attacker and her daughter. Millie was clinging to her mum’s leg. Did she even know what was going on? What would happen next?
Annie had a kitchen knife clutched in her shaking hands, ready to kill anyone who might harm her daughter. But she’d no idea what she was up against.
‘Get away!’
She lashed out with the knife, swinging it in an arc. It wasn’t an offensive move, she wasn’t trying to stab or slice anyone, it was a warning to keep the intruder at a distance. But this intruder didn’t need to get close to hurt you.
The knife spun out of Annie’s hand as though attached to a wire, and spun handle over point until it embedded itself in the floor, causing the cat to hiss and recoil.
‘Well, now who is this little one?’ It was Myers’ voice.
She crouched into view as I, as the cat, backed up under a table.
The sound of feet. I saw Annie gather up Millie and race for the door, trying to slip away while Janto’s attention was fixed on the cat.
‘Stop,’ said Janto, without taking his eyes off the animal.
Annie came to a sudden halt, as though the floor was made of glue. ‘Let us go, please!’
‘Back against the wall.’
Millie screamed in Annie’s arms as they were thrown through the air and pinned against the kitchen wall, next to Millie’s brightly coloured stick drawings, proudly displayed.
Myers’ hands reached out towards the cat, which lashed out. ‘Stop that.’
No more swinging claws from the cat.
The cat was lifted into the air and pointed at Annie and her daughter, stuck to the wall like bugs to flypaper. Millie was crying.
‘Look at who I dropped in on, Joe,’ said Janto, using the cat’s eyes like a camera, recording the scene. Because of course he knew I’d come here, knew I’d see the dead cat and use my insight magic. So why not record a little message for me?
He swung the cat close into their faces, moving it back and forth and laughing at their distress. Enjoying their fear.
‘Look at what you’ve made me do, Joe. And people think I’m the worst part of you. I mean, the poor woman has a young child, for God’s sake.’
‘Joe isn’t here,’ screamed Annie. ‘You’re a lunatic!’
‘That’s not very nice,’ replied Myers. The view blurred, and then her smiling face filled my vision. ‘I know this must be a difficult time for you, Joe, but imagine what it’s been like for me for the last ten years. All I want is what’s mine. All I want back is my full existence. To be complete again. To be whole. Why is that so wrong? Why would you want to fight that? Are you telling me you’re happy with your small life, your weak grasp on the Uncanny? A menial day job cleaning up after others? Mopping up their puke. We’re high born. We’re a God. The throne is ours, Joe. Our army awaits.’ Myers grinned again. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
I heard the cat scream.
And the vision cut to black.
21
Janto left no clue as to where he might have taken them, but at least I had a little hope to cling on to. The only corpse inside Annie’s house belonged to a cat, so maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t killed them yet. Wanted to keep them alive, as bait. They would wiggle on his hook and I’d have no choice but to swim towards them with my mouth wide open.
I barged past someone as I staggered, ashen-faced, from Annie’s house, and made my way to the car.
‘Hey, watch it!’ said the woman, but I didn’t reply, didn’t apologise. I was walking through a muffled world as I fumbled with my car keys and climbed behind the wheel.
What now?
Where would I go?
It seemed like Janto wasn’t going to bother chasing after me. He wanted me to come to him now, wanted to be in control, and I wasn’t about to disappoint him, not while Annie and Millie were in danger, scared out of their minds. I had no choice now but to face the inevitable. The danger they were in was my fault. My fault twice over, in fact.
Whatever happened next, I wouldn’t die. Not as such. Janto would become whole again. I would walk away, still breathing, still alive, still fully conscious. But this me would die. The me I’d been for the last ten years.
Goodbye, daft Joseph Lake.
Hello, Janto the Warlock.
Hello, Magic Eater.
Any part of me that I thought of as me would be swamped by the bad stuff. Pushed aside by all the thoughts and desires that had once ruled me to such a degree that Eva had been forced to kill all three of her creators. But Eva was gone now, there was only me, and I couldn’t just let my bad half kill Annie and Millie.
So in you come, Mr Lake.
Your time is well and truly up.
I had no idea where to look, other than the coven, so that’s where I drove.
As I watched the countryside roll past the window, I felt my heart ache. When Janto joined with me, when I became whole again, this would all be gone. I’d walk across this land and watch it burn at my hand. I wouldn’t feel its loss. Wouldn’t weep for a world destroyed. I’d look upon my deeds and think that they were righteous.
I parked up and entered the blind alley, the secret pocket in reality, down which hunkered the Cumbrian Coven. Safe from the eyes of any hill-walkers or tourists.
I pulled the magic into me as I carefully edged my way forward. My hands became like twin suns, burning furiously, ready to make a last stand, no matter how pointless. I may be an idiot, I may be a recovering coward, but I wasn’t going to welcome the end with open arms. I’d do my best to fight against the coming of the dark.
The coven door was open. I slid through, being careful not to nudge it and have a creaking hinge broadcast my approach. Once inside, I tried to reach out with whatever magically attuned sense I had. Tried to sense where Janto could be.
I got nothing.
I walked forward, my hands lighting the way. I looked at the darkened patches that spread like waves across the coven’s walls. I’d noticed them the very first time Eva had brought me here. Noticed the fire damage all over the inside of the building. I’d had so much to come to grips with that it had seemed like the least of my concerns at the time. And soon enough, I’d barely even noticed them anymore. The coven was ancient and battered, I just took it for granted.
This time I saw the scorch marks and a thought clicked into place. This was more than just wear and tear. This was damage from the big fight. It must have been. The three witches had faced off here, ten years ago, inside their own coven. This was where Lyna and Melodia had realised they had no choice but to put an end to me. To kill Janto. The same place Eva had realised she was going to have to do something that would change who she was forever.
I quietly moved from room to room, but I needn’t have acted so cautiously. No one was home. The flames around my hands puttered out and I sank into the broken old couch. My foot nudged something, and I looked down to see an open can of lager on the floor. I lifted and shook it; there was
still about a third of the liquid inside. I put it to my lips and drank the warm, flat contents.
I awoke, curled up on the couch, several hours later.
I left the coven and got in my car, looking at my phone to see if Janto had contacted me with Myers’ phone. There were no missed calls. No messages.
I didn’t know where else to look for Annie and Millie so I drove back to Keswick, back to my flat.
I sat on my couch and rubbed at my tightly shut eyes, trying to push away the stress induced headache that was threatening to explode in my brain at any moment.
What had my life become?
Just a few months ago I was Joseph Lake, a bumbling guy who had once woken up next to a body of water without knowing who he was. A curiosity. A lovable rascal with a menial day job and a side-gig investigating the paranormal. A hapless fool with a crush on his best friend, who was wildly out of his league. I’d have given just about anything to get back to that. Even just for a little while.
But this had always been coming. It may have taken a decade, but sooner or later I’d have found myself right where I was, whether I wanted any part of it or not. The Dark Lakes wanted me, Janto wanted me.
I didn’t know it, but I was screwed right from the start.
There was a knock at the door.
My heart thumped so hard against my chest that I was sure whoever was outside must be able to hear it.
Was this it? Had Janto decided to just come and get me after all? I edged toward the door, wishing I had one of those peepholes so I could see outside. I dropped onto my hands and knees and peered through the thin gap under the door. I could just about make out a pair of shoes. Men’s shoes. Myers always wore boots.
‘Mr Lake, I know you’re in there, I saw you go in.’
Detective Martins. What the crap did he want this time? ‘This isn’t really a good time, Detective,’ I said, getting back to my feet.
‘Is that right?’
‘I had a bastard of a shift at the hospital and I’ve been rewarded with a headache that I’d really like to sleep through.’
‘Open the door or I’ll kick it in.’
I opened the door.
Detective Martins was grinning in a way I didn’t like.
‘Hello, Detective Martins. What can I do for you?’
‘Well, Mr Lake, you can accompany me down to the fucking station.’
Of course. Why wouldn’t I get arrested at this point?
22
Martins shoved me into the back of his car with more vigour than was strictly required, mashing my face against the rear passenger window.
‘Ow,’ I said, and I really meant it.
I shuffled into a seated position and rubbed ruefully at my cheek. My face was taking a lot of punishment lately.
‘You know you haven’t read me my rights?’ I said, as Martins got behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition.
‘That’s right, I didn’t.’
I looked at the back of Martins’ head, the crown of his short, brown hair thinning.
‘You also didn’t tell me what this is all about. As far as I’m aware, I haven’t actually done anything that would get me tossed into the back of a police car.’
Martins put his foot down and began to steer away from my flat.
‘Hello? Detective Martins? I’m actually quite busy at the moment. I’m expected somewhere.’
‘And where’s that?’ he replied.
‘Not exactly sure about that just yet,’ I said, ‘but it needs to happen soon, and the person I’m meeting won’t be happy if I keep them waiting.’
We drove, leaving Keswick behind. I assumed that we were heading towards Carlisle, towards the station Martins and Myers worked out of.
‘You were seen,’ said Martins.
‘Okay. Seen where, exactly?’
‘Running from a crime scene.’
‘What? I haven’t run from any…’ I stumbled to a stop as I realised what he was getting at.
‘There it is,’ said Martins, his small, suspicious eyes on me in the rearview.
‘I haven’t done anything to Annie, or her daughter.’
‘Or their cat, I suppose?’
‘Right. Yes. I didn’t tear their cat’s guts out, you have my word on that.’
Martins snorted. ‘Forgive me if I don’t put a lot of trust in your word, you fucking weirdo.’
‘No need for the name calling.’
I slumped against the door as Martins took a hard left, leaving the road that would take us to Carlisle. ‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘We’re going to have a chat before things get more official,’ he replied.
‘Right.’
Oh dear.
Another few minutes of driving in silence and we turned onto a dirt track, then came to a stop by an abandoned stone building. Years ago it had probably been used as storage by farmers, or as a place to rest for people walking through the lakes. A place they could stop overnight to sleep safe from the elements. Now it was just a stone shell without a roof in the middle of nowhere and there was nothing safe about it.
Martins killed the engine and got out, opening the door closest to me and pulling me out.
‘What is this?’ I said.
‘Told you, I want a word. Come on.’
He shoved me towards the stone shack.
‘This isn’t the Seventies. Police can’t just take a suspect off the grid and beat a confession out of them.’
‘Get in there,’ he snarled.
The shack smelt bad. It was my guess that quite a lot of local wildlife had come to this place, and also died in this place.
Martins pushed me down onto a bench fixed to the wall, causing me to jar my elbow against the stone.
‘Okay, that’s enough,’ I said. ‘If you do anything to me, I’ll make sure you’re fired.’
‘I’m not going to do anything to you.’
‘Forgive me if I don’t take your word for that.’
Martins stood over me, legs astride. ‘Where did you take them?’
‘Where did I take who?’
‘The woman and her daughter.’
‘I didn’t take them anywhere!’
Of course that wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t this part of me that did it. This part of me was innocent.
‘So, you had nothing to do with their disappearance?’
‘No!’
‘Nothing to do with the blood we found, or the butchered family pet?’
‘Of course not.’
‘There’s blood on your hands.’
I looked down to see dried blood on my fingertips. Blood from where I’d touched the smear of it on the wall. Blood from when I’d touched the dead cat.
‘Okay, I know this looks iffy. And me running out of her house and not going straight to the police doesn’t look great either, I agree.’
‘Good. I’m glad we agree on something, finally.’
‘But I had nothing to do with it. I’ve been trying to find them.’
‘Right. And have you been trying to find Detective Myers, too? Because no one can find her, either, though you claimed to have spoken to her.’
‘Yes, I’m looking for her, too.’
‘I mean, I might not be Sherlock Holmes, Mr Lake, but there seems to be one thing that connects our missing persons. A thing they all have in common. You.’
I sighed and sagged. Martins’ small mind was clearly made up.
‘Am I wrong?’ he asked.
‘No, I know them all.’
‘Right. And now you’re seen fleeing the scene and you have blood on your hands, literally.’
‘I don’t have time for this,’ I said, standing.
‘Easy, now.’ Martins said as he reached under his jacket and rested his hand on the extendable baton hanging from his belt.
‘Please, let me go.’
‘No.’
‘If you don’t let me go, then Annie is dead. Millie is dead. And Detective Maya Myers?
I imagine she’ll end up dead, too.’
‘Is that a threat?’
‘No. It’s just a fact.’
‘I knew from the start you were a wrong ‘un, Lake. You may have wriggled out of that business with Chloe Palmer, but I knew you stunk to high heaven. And now here we are.’
I didn’t have time for any more chit-chat, and I couldn’t let him take me in.
‘Okay,’ I said, ‘I’m going to tell you the truth.’
‘About time. Tell me where you’ve put them, Lake. Are they locked up in a basement somewhere?’
‘I don’t have them. A powerful warlock has all three. He’s possessed Detective Maya Myers, and kidnapped Annie and her daughter as bait to make sure I came running.’
Martins didn’t look best pleased with this explanation. ‘You’re really off your rocker, aren’t you?’
‘I only wish I was, because then I’d be the only one in danger.’
‘What’s a warlock?’
‘A male witch. Which, actually, is also what I am.’
Martins looked as though he was about to hit me, then he began to laugh. And I mean really howl, almost bending double.
‘It’s true,’ I insisted. ‘Magic is real. Monsters are real. And you should be thankful that people like me exist, because without us, this whole place would be a living hell.’
Martins straightened up and wiped a tear from his eye. ‘Okay, that’s it, you can play the nutter card all you like, but I’m taking you in.’
I took a step back, ready. ‘I’m afraid I won’t be going with you.’
Martins looked at me as though I were a dog that had just started saying people words. ‘Suit yourself, I don’t mind doing this the hard way, you sicko.’ Martins pulled out his baton and flicked his wrist so it extended to its full length.
‘Here we go, then,’ I said. I focused, and the magic in the air flickered into view. Great rolling waves of every colour imaginable, and some outside of the known spectrum. I drew it into me, felt it fill me, then I lifted my right fist and it burst into flames.
Martins stopped so suddenly he almost fell over. ‘How… how are you doing that?’
Uncanny Kingdom: An Eleven Book Urban Fantasy Collection (Uncanny Kingdom Omnibus 1) Page 122
