The Secret Gift

by Ian Somers

  ‘I hope I live to see it … The injury I sustained in Dublin pains me greatly. I busted a few of the stitches when I fought with Boxer today. It’ll only get worse if I have to stay on the move.’

  ‘You must hold out for a few more days.’

  ‘A few more days will seem like an eternity!’ Hunter cursed. ‘There are too many enemies. Damn it, why will Sterling not come out of hiding? We need him now more than ever.’

  ‘The king does not fight alongside the pawns.’

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t refer to me as a pawn.’

  ‘You know what I mean. There’s too much to risk for him. There is more at stake here than the war with Golding and our mysterious enemy. There is more at stake than the Guild itself. You know of the threat that waits in the shadow. If we lose Sterling, we would lose everything. The entire world would be in danger.’

  ‘I don’t want to think about all that.’

  ‘We’ve talked too much of darkness,’ Canavan said softly. ‘I think we both need to take some rest before the busy day that awaits us both.’

  ‘I think you might be right. You take the room upstairs. I’ll sleep here on the couch.’

  ‘Keep one eye open.’

  ‘I always sleep with one eye open,’ Hunter chuckled. ‘It’s because of an old injury I picked up when I was on the trail of a murderous pyrokinetic.’

  ‘I’ve heard all your war stories.’

  ‘Not this one!’

  ‘It’ll keep for an easier day.’

  There was movement in the room and I sent a soft pulse of energy at my feet and was lifted into the air. I had just floated to the landing when Canavan pulled open the sitting room door and stepped into the hall. I was in bed before her foot met the first step of the staircase.

  I lay there in the silence of the room and thought hard about the discussion I had overheard. Why had I been such a burden to them? I hadn’t even been part of the Guild for the previous year. And what was this great shadow that threatened the world? It sounded awfully similar to Sarah Fisher’s prophecy that described the Kematian’s shadow that still loomed over the Guild. And it appeared she’d had more of these dark prophecies. I felt so sorry for her. She was a loveable young child who’d had a torturous few years and was not given the chance to live properly because of the visions she’d had. It pained me to know that she continued to see the horrors of the future. I’d have done anything to see her again. Just to give her a hug and tell her everything was going to be all right.

  Everything was not all right, though. There was so much danger in the world, and it was growing by the day. The Guild was under serious threat and the gifted were openly fighting in the streets, the rest of the world now knew about us. And while all this was going on, my closest friends were keeping important knowledge from me. I hated that they were so secretive. I hated the way they had talked about me. It was as if I was an object to them. Why did they speak of me in such a way? It was clear that they liked and cared for me – just listening to the way Hunter had spoken of our friendship confirmed that. Yet still they did not trust me enough to reveal the full truth of what was going on.

  There was too much to figure out. Everything was a mystery to me. I should have stayed in the cottage in Ireland and never returned to the Guild. I no longer knew who and what I was. I no longer knew who my friends were, and why they had befriended me in the first place. For a while I contemplated sneaking out the back of the house and fleeing into the night. I wanted to go far away, somewhere that they would never find me. I just wanted to be normal. I wanted no more mysteries.

  When the house fell completely silent I walked downstairs and went to the back door. I could take to the kinetibike and be hundreds of miles away before they woke. They would never find me.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Snow

  I was sitting by the kitchen table when Hunter appeared by the door. At one point in the night I had wheeled the bike along the driveway and was ready to drive off and to turn my back on them forever. I sat on the saddle and was ready to fire energy from my fingertips into its engine when I resisted and saw sense. It would be too cowardly to run. Not when they were in their most desperate hour. I could have escaped it all, but never would I have been comfortable with what I had done. I would have been haunted for the rest of my days if I had fled and they had died and the Guild crumbled under the weight of the evil it faced. I grudgingly wheeled the bike back under the trees and returned to the house. I’d been sitting near the back window since then, gazing out over the ocean as the sun chased the darkness from the morning sky.

  ‘How was your nap?’ Hunter asked as he lit his first cigar of the morning. ‘Comfy?’

  ‘It was all right. I managed to sleep for a couple of hours.’

  ‘Then you slept better than I did,’ he said, arching his back with a loud click. ‘That couch is even less comfortable than the bed in my old cottage!’

  ‘Miss your old bed?’

  ‘I’ll miss it forever,’ he grumbled. ‘I doubt I’ll ever return to that place after what Marie told us last night.’

  ‘I guess it would be difficult to sleep in a house where your colleagues’ bodies were stashed – in order to frame you for their murder.’

  ‘It would be impossible. When I find the one responsible for their deaths, so help me God, they will know the true meaning of suffering.’

  ‘Because they murdered the agents or because they desecrated your home?’

  ‘What sort of question is that?’

  ‘Just a question.’

  ‘Come off it.’ He took a seat at the table and watched me carefully. ‘I know when you’re in one of your moods.’

  ‘I’m just a bit stressed.’

  ‘Stressed?’ He took a deep pull from the cigar and grinned at me. ‘Is that why you left the house last night?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Don’t deny it. I was watching you the whole time. You were on your bike and just about to leave.’

  ‘I didn’t leave, though.’

  ‘No, you didn’t.’ He reached over and clapped me on the shoulder. This was momentous. Hunter making physical contact with another living being in a gesture of friendship and thanks. I was stunned. ‘I’m glad you came back, Bentley.’

  ‘Would you have let me leave?’

  ‘Probably not. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on all the fun.’

  ‘Today will not be fun.’

  ‘You’re right, it won’t. But we’ll go a long way to concluding all this trouble.’

  ‘You still want to go through with that plan of yours?’

  ‘There is no other way.’

  ‘Perhaps there is …’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘It came to me while I was sitting next to the window, watching the sun slowly burn up the ocean. It was so tranquil that my mind went still and all the thoughts and worries that usually dog me were lifted. That’s when it came to me. I got to thinking about that hit list we found in Brofeldt’s apartment. I thought of all the names that were on it and how tragic it would be to lose them. How much of a loss to the world it would be if so many gifted people were murdered –’

  ‘This is all very poetic, Bentley, but would you please get to the point!’

  ‘I realised there were two names missing from the list. Names that should have been on it.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Angela and John Portman.’

  Hunter sat there with the cigar hanging precariously from his lower lip and stared into space for what seemed an eternity. It was clear that he had not considered this until now. Eventually he looked at me, a hint of excitement in his cold eyes and a rueful grin on his stubbly face. ‘What would I do without you, Bentley?’

  ‘Probably get yourself killed.’

  ‘Why didn’t I see this?’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I never felt those two were trustworthy. I should have seen this!’

  ‘There’s been too much going on to think straight
,’ I said. ‘Do you think they could be involved?’

  ‘They’re friends of Ballentine’s. They never risk themselves for the Guild. They are not on the hit list. Yes! I think there’s a very good chance they could be working for the enemy.’

  ‘Then it would make more sense to hunt them down rather than walking into the hornet’s nest to face Ballentine. They may have the answers we seek.’

  ‘That’s a very good plan.’ He puffed heavily on his cigar and his face was brighter than it had been for many days. ‘And I know where they live.’

  ‘Where who lives?’ Canavan asked as she entered the kitchen.

  It didn’t take long for us to devise a new plan with the help of Marie Canavan. We still needed to know if Ballentine was a traitor, so we would still have to contact him one way or another. But once we were sure of his true motives, we would hunt down the Portmans instead of travelling to the Palatium. I was much happier with this scenario and felt a little more confident that I might see another sunrise.

  At 8am we saw Canavan to her car and before we went our separate ways, she retrieved a sports bag from the boot and handed it to Hunter.

  ‘I had a feeling that you’d have nothing but the clothes on your back, so I packed a bag that might come in handy.’

  ‘Ah, you are a genius, Marie Canavan,’ Hunter said as he unzipped the bag and examined its contents. ‘Binoculars … bottle of scotch … a mobile phone … spare pair of boots …’

  ‘Anything in there for me?’ I joked.

  ‘I didn’t know you were with him until I arrived,’ Canavan said apologetically.

  ‘I’ll live.’

  ‘You better,’ she said, giving me a hug. ‘Stay close to Hunter at all times, Ross,’ she whispered in my ear. ‘Run if you lose him. Don’t look back.’

  ‘What was that?’ Hunter asked.

  ‘I told him I didn’t want the Guild to lose him. I have the number of that mobile phone in the bag. My number is saved in the contacts. Call me if there are any developments.’

  ‘I will.’

  Canavan wished us luck before she took to her little hatchback and started her journey for London. Hunter and I watched her disappear down the narrow road, then we took to the bike and he instructed me to drive to some high ground that was almost a mile to the north of the house. From there he contacted Ballentine. It was a short conversation. Both men weren’t eager to give the other much information on what had been going on. Hunter said that we were alone at the house by the coast, that I was gravely ill and he couldn’t risk leaving me alone, then gave him the address and told him to come alone. Ballentine agreed. There was no fuss from him, as there usually was. He told Hunter to stay put and that he would be there within two hours. It was very suspicious; Ballentine always argued with Hunter and always demanded as much information as could be provided. He hadn’t even asked what was wrong with me.

  We took a spot on the high ground that was thick with long grass and bushes, got low to the frozen ground and Hunter pressed his binoculars to his face and our latest stakeout began.

  Only an hour had passed when a vehicle appeared on the winding road that led to Canavan’s house. It looked awfully similar to the 4x4 that Boxer had emerged from during the battle at the filling station the day before. Hunter remained silent as the vehicle slowly drove along the driveway and came to a halt at the side of the house.

  ‘Who is it?’ I asked, tugging at his sleeve. ‘Is it Ballentine or Boxer?’

  ‘Take a look for yourself,’ he said as he passed the binoculars to me. ‘It’s exactly as I said it would be.’

  It appeared Ballentine was the traitor after all. I was looking down on the property to see Boxer and another man, who was much younger and had his arm in a sling, standing either side of the vehicle, watching the house.

  ‘Once they go inside we should make a hasty retreat,’ Hunter said to me. ‘We can’t linger here.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  I watched Boxer closely as he scouted around to the rear of the house. He wore no hood this time, and I could now clearly see the mask that Hunter had told me about. It looked to be a mixture of leather and carbon fibre plates and covered his entire head. There was a diamond shaped panel at the front covering his nose and mouth – I figured this helped him breathe – and there was a visor stretching from ear to ear, that covered his eyes. On this visor were two circular buttons that were glowing green. Hunter’s hypothesis seemed to be on the money; the mask was probably constructed to protect his eyes, and to allow him to see what the naked eye could not.

  ‘I want to be the one who kills Ballentine,’ Hunter said under his breath. ‘Many honest men and women have been murdered because of his treachery.’

  ‘I won’t stop you. I wonder why he turned on the Guild? What could possibly make him side with the likes of Boxer.’

  ‘Probably money.’

  ‘That’s too obvious. Money is not always the chief motivator for people.’

  ‘The obvious explanation is usually correct, from my experience.’

  ‘I’m sure we’ll discover his motives in time.’

  I returned my attention to Boxer’s companion. He was tall and slender with dark skin; he had an air of arrogance about him. He had remained at the 4x4 and simply watched the surrounding grounds while his partner patrolled the house. His left arm was in a sling and I noticed he moved gingerly when he turned. This weakness could be his downfall if we were to face him at some point.

  ‘I wonder where he picked up the injured arm,’ Hunter said quietly.

  ‘Probably when he killed the other Guild agents.’

  ‘He’ll get his comeuppance soon enough.’

  ‘I’m sure he will. How far to the Portmans’ house?’

  ‘They live on the outskirts of Manchester. Shouldn’t take us too long to reach them on the kinetibike.’

  ‘I’m not taking the M62.’

  ‘Yes, let’s not tempt faith. We can take a longer route and still be there at 5pm.’

  ‘What’s so important about 5pm?’

  ‘You’ll see when we get there.’

  ‘Why do you insist on withholding information from me?’ I asked, unable to hide the insult I felt from the night before. ‘You’re always keeping secrets from me.’

  ‘I can’t answer that.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I like keeping you in the dark,’ he smiled. ‘You’ll be the one to keep the secrets in a few years, and you’ll then understand why it’s not wise to tell young men everything before they are ready.’

  ‘Don’t think so,’ I shrugged. ‘I’ll be living by a golden beach in a very warm country when I’m your age. I’ll be long retired by then.’

  ‘You’re planning on winning the lottery?’

  ‘Yes. I’m going to track down Sarah Fisher and make her tell me the winning numbers.’ I took the binoculars from my face and turned to Hunter, smiling. ‘And you’re not getting a share of my winnings.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want your stinking money, Bentley. I’d rather remain a working class hero, thank you very much.’

  ‘They’ve gone inside,’ I said as I gazed down the grassy slope. ‘We should get going.’

  We wasted no time in leaving the high ground and soon found our way onto a road that led away from the coast. We avoided the M62, opting this time for the road to Harrogate, where we stopped for half an hour. It was a bitterly cold morning, by far the coldest day of that year. There had been showers of sleet and bone splitting winds to endure for over an hour and we decided it was worth the risk of stopping at a coffee shop near the town. We defrosted while we ate a modest lunch with piping hot coffee. By midday we were on the road once more. We drove straight to Blackburn, through an ever strengthening snowfall. I don’t know if it was the extreme cold that brought on the headache or not, but by the time we passed Blackburn for Manchester I could barely think straight with the pain that pulsed against my skull. At 2pm I was in so much agony that we had to pull ove
r to the side of the road and Hunter and I switched positions, and he drove us the rest of the way.

  The Portmans lived in the suburbs of Prestwich, a town to the north of Manchester city. It took Hunter quite some time to find the right street, and he cursed endlessly about the snowfall and all the houses looking the same. At 3pm he had located the correct street and we parked about fifty yards from number 87 – the house that belonged to Angela and John Portman.

  The road was typical suburbia: two identical rows of red brick semi-detached houses either side of a narrow two lane road. Most of the gardens had two cars. There were a scattering of SUVs parked on the roadside. Normally there would have been kids playing in the street, but the bad weather had driven them into their homes. There was nothing extravagant about the place. This was hardly surprising; most Guild agents lived in rather unglamorous settings.

  I was suffering badly as I climbed off the bike to stretch my legs – they were almost numb from the sub-zero temperatures. I couldn’t move my toes at all, and stomped my feet into the fresh snow on the pavement to circulate some blood into them. The headache had softened a bit and I was at least able to think straight.

  ‘Stay close to the bike,’ Hunter told me. He remained in the seat and watched the road for any sign of the Portmans. ‘I have a small cloak set up around me and I don’t want you straying outside it and giving us away.’

  ‘Why are we waiting? Shouldn’t we get this over with before we both freeze to death?’

  ‘They don’t usually arrive home on weekdays until 5pm.’

  ‘What time is it now?’

  ‘Almost that time.’

  ‘Good. I don’t want to prolong this.’ I stepped to the roadside and stood next to the warm tank of the bike and rubbed my hands together furiously. ‘Why do they arrive home at the same time every day?’

  ‘Because they work five days a week.’

  ‘What, normal work?’

  ‘Yes. They’re both accountants. They have a little tax consulting business in Manchester city. They only work for the Guild on a part-time basis, whenever we need accountancy work done, or if there’s a serious emergency.’