‘What are you doing here?’ Foul breath blasted into Shavi’s face as a hand closed around his throat.
He allowed himself to go limp to prevent further violence. The attacker eased his grip and Shavi saw it was a man with straggly, grey hair and the sunburned, wind-blasted complexion of someone who spent his life outdoors. He was wiry and exceptionally strong for his age, which Shavi placed post-sixty, though it was difficult to pin it down. He was unwashed and mud splattered his old cheesecloth shirt. His eyes were feral and frightened and reminded Shavi of a wild beast’s.
The man brought up a wooden staff with his free hand and placed it quickly across Shavi’s throat, pinning him down. If the man increased his weight on the staff he would crush Shavi’s neck in an instant.
‘Who are you?’ he repeated threateningly.
‘My name is Shavi.’
‘What are you doing here at night? Nobody comes here at night. Nobody comes to any of the old sites any more. They’re all dead and dried up.’ His eyes flashed from side to side anxiously; he appeared on the edge of sanity.
Shavi’s first thought was that the man was a drunk or a drifter, but there was an indefinable quality to him that made Shavi think again. ‘I came because of a dream,’ Shavi said after a second.
The man’s erratic movements ceased and he stared deeply into Shavi’s eyes. ‘You dreamed of the stones?’
‘Every night.’
‘And you came because of dreams? You’re not lying to me, are you, you bloody young idiot?’
‘I am not lying.’
‘Are you one of them?’ His stressed, anxious tics returned in force. ‘You can’t be one of them. They’re gone. Lost. Dead. Don’t exist any more.’ He sat back against the stone, nursing his staff in his lap. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Shavi.’
‘Bloody idiot name. Are you one of them?’
‘I do not know.’ The man began to grow agitated again, so Shavi added hastily, ‘I do know that I am supposed to be here. Something strange has come into my life … a feeling that this is not the way things are meant to be.’
The world is the way anyone with the strongest will makes it. That’s just the way it is.’ The hungry gleam in the man’s eyes told Shavi his instincts were right: somehow the man was connected to the growing mystery.
‘Who are you?’ Shavi asked gently.
A flash of paranoia came and went and then the man said roughly, ‘I’ve got lots of names, but you can call me the Bone Inspector until you know me better.’ When he saw Shavi looking at him quizzically, he snapped, ‘It’s a name and a job description. I guard the ancient sites all across the country … here, Stonehenge, Boskawen-Un, Callanish, all of ’em. Have done for years.’
‘Guard them from what?’
‘None of your business!’ He caught himself, punched the turf. ‘I’m the last in the line of a group that called themselves the Culture. You’d know ’em by another name. They were the keepers of wisdom, passed down from one generation to the next by word of mouth only.’ The Bone Inspector suddenly jumped to his feet. ‘We can’t stay here talking! They’ll be coming for us soon!’
‘Who will?’
‘The ones who rule the world. I’ve been running from them, and hiding … travelling by night, sleeping in ditches. They want me dead because I’m the only one who knows about the stuff that’s been forgotten. Even though they’re dead the old sites still have something … they help me hide from the ones who’re after me.’
‘You are not making a great deal of sense,’ Shavi said quietly.
‘You think I’m crazy, do you? Well, that shows what you know.’ He rapped Shavi’s head with his knuckles. ‘Thick.’
The Bone Inspector grabbed Shavi and tried to haul him away, but Shavi resisted. ‘I cannot go. I was brought here for a reason.’
‘If you stay here, they’ll have you. They don’t allow anyone to get close to the old ways.’
‘If you know what is happening, please tell me.’
Whatever the Bone Inspector saw in Shavi’s eyes calmed him. ‘All right. I reckon you might be one of them after all. And if you are … well, there’s hope.’ He looked around like a cornered animal. ‘I’ll show you, that’s what I’ll do.’
The Bone Inspector bounded away so quickly that Shavi had to scramble to keep up with him. Scraps of the Bone Inspector’s crazed mutterings floated back. ‘Ancient knowledge … secrets encoded in the landscape, so it’ll never be lost. But you need eyes to see … think smart, different from the way you were taught …’
Shavi caught up with the fragmentary commentary at one of the stones. The Bone Inspector patted the megalith a little too enthusiastically. ‘Everything they taught you in school is wrong. There’s a secret history that went on behind the scenes of what most people saw. And it’s all about this.’
‘The standing stones?’
‘No, you idiot. The stones are just markers.’
‘For what?’
‘The power that’s in the land … telluric energy, the Blue Fire – the Pendragon Spirit. Call it what you will.’
‘Ley Lines?’
The Bone Inspector cackled. ‘The New Age idiots were right all along. Isn’t that a punch in the eye? Every sacred site, whether it’s a stone circle, a spring or a cathedral, they’re places where the spirit fire is strongest, where you can tap into it if you know how. And this place was the most powerful of all.’
Shavi glanced at the row of stones disappearing into the gloom. Avebury was such a big megalithic complex that it encompassed the whole of the modern village: rings of stones, two processional avenues snaking out on either side. The books he’d read in recent days told him that archaeologists considered it just part of a vast site that had once stretched for miles, taking in nearby Silbury Hill and scores of other smaller prehistoric remnants.
‘They call it a dracontium,’ the Bone Inspector said, ‘a dragon temple, because the two avenues make a snake in the landscape with the temple at the heart. Dragons … serpents – that’s just another way of describing the power that runs through the land, and through us, too. There was a time when this whole world was the Kingdom of the Serpent. Now …’ He shook his head. ‘You want to see how bad it’s got?’
He loped across the clipped grass like a wolf until he reached another stone. ‘This one’s called the Devil’s Chair,’ he said. ‘Everything is a secret. You have to look past the surface, find the key that unlocks hidden doors. They’re everywhere if you know how to look.’
‘Doors to where?’
‘Here, there and everywhere. We run round this three times widdershins. That’ll raise whatever sparks of energy are left in the ground. That’s the key, you see. The key to everything.’ His eyes were wild and white in the dark. Too long hiding and running from whomever he thought was pursuing him had taken its toll. He grabbed Shavi. ‘Once we’ve done that, you follow me. And don’t fall back, all right?’
The Bone Inspector ran anticlockwise around the stone. Shavi followed, unsure whether he was making a fool of himself. After the third circuit, the Bone Inspector spun off towards a steep embankment. He led Shavi down the other side, across a road, through a gate and two rows of concrete pillars that marked the site of stones long since uprooted.
‘West Kennet Avenue. Not long now,’ the Bone Inspector said breathlessly.
A change had come over the atmosphere: it was electric, and Shavi could feel his fingers and toes tingling. The ground rumbled, and to his astonishment he saw the turf rising ahead of him to reveal a gaping hole.
‘Underground we go,’ the Bone Inspector chanted.
They scrambled along a loam-stinking tunnel for fifteen minutes until it widened into a space whose boundaries were lost to the dark. A thin, flickering blue light emanated from faint deposits on the floor.
The Bone Inspector suddenly thrust an arm across Shavi’s chest, halting his headlong rush. As Shavi’s eyes adjusted to the half-light, he saw he was standing o
n the edge of a sharp drop.
‘Not so long ago that would have been filled with a lake of Blue Fire.’ A hint of awe laced the Bone Inspector’s voice; he sounded saner and more measured now he was underground. ‘It was magnificent. You felt as if you were a god just standing at the edge.’
‘Where has it gone?’
‘Where’s it gone? Where’s it gone?’ The Bone Inspector rubbed feverish fingers through his lank hair. ‘If I knew that, I’d know everything. It was dormant before, when men thought science could solve all their problems. It looked as if it was coming back for good, but then …’ He gripped his skull as if he was trying to crush it. ‘Why can’t I remember? What’s wrong with my head?’
‘We must stay calm,’ Shavi said comfortingly.
‘Calm? The Blue Fire is the lifeblood of everything! If it’s gone, what do you think that means? We’re all dead men walking around, only we don’t know it. There’s only a residue at the old sites – the scum left behind after it went down the drain.’ The Bone Inspector grabbed Shavi’s shirt and hauled him so close that Shavi could smell the old man’s foul breath again. ‘If you really are one of the Five, then you’ve got to find it. That’s your job. Bring back the power in the land. Set us all free!’
Once Shavi had calmed the Bone Inspector, he encouraged him to explain what he meant by ‘the Five’. Soon Shavi had heard about the champions of Existence who came together to protect the land, bound as one by the Pendragon Spirit.
‘Five. Always five. That’s the magic number,’ the Bone Inspector said. ‘When one lot does what’s required of them, they sail off into the sunset until the next crisis, when Existence calls another Five.’
Shavi didn’t know whether to believe the Bone Inspector’s story. From anyone else it would have sounded ludicrous, but coming from him, in that place, it rang true somehow. ‘If I am one of them,’ Shavi began, ‘who are the others?’
‘How should I know? You always find each other. The Pendragon Spirit calls to its own – that’s why you came here. But now, with everything changed, who knows? There might not be enough Blue Fire in the world to bring you all back together.’
‘If what you are saying is true, how did it get like this?’ Shavi mused.
The Bone Inspector wiped snot away with the back of his hand. ‘It’s not just the Blue Fire that’s gone. Where are the Fabulous Beasts?’
Shavi gave him a questioning look.
‘That’s right – scales, wings, breathe fire. They live in the earth, just as the old stories say. They keep the Blue Fire burning, and they feed on it. Some say they are it.’
‘They exist? Like the Chinese said – the spirits of the earth? I would very much like to see one.’
‘There used to be a big old bugger here …’ The Bone Inspector shook his head sadly. ‘You find the Fabulous Beasts, you’ll find the Blue Fire. Unless they’re all dead. We’d better get out of here. Now you know all this, they’ll be looking for you.’
‘The ones who run the world?’ Shavi said hesitantly.
‘Dead-eyed people, watching. Always watching. They want to keep things the way they are. They don’t want hope and wonder and magic loose – too dangerous. They want it this way so they can control it. Power for the powerful, and the rest of us be damned.’
They returned along the dark tunnel and at the Bone Inspector’s command the turf rose up to release them into the warm night. The minute Shavi stepped back onto the ancient West Kennet Avenue he knew something was wrong: the electricity had departed along with the heady rush of magic. Instead there was a faint buzzing like high-voltage power lines.
‘Shavi? What are you doing?’
Rourke stood to one side of the concrete markers, hands behind his back. Casually dressed, he looked at ease, as if bumping into Shavi there was the most natural thing in the world.
‘Why are you following me?’ Shavi asked.
‘I’m a friend. I want to look out for you.’
‘With all due respect, you are, at best, an acquaintance. And I really don’t need anyone to look out for me.’
The Bone Inspector tugged at Shavi’s sleeve. ‘’E’s one of ’em,’ he hissed. ‘Keep your distance.’
‘I’m worried that you’re getting into dangerous waters. Out here in the countryside, at night.’ Rourke tried to peer around Shavi at the Bone Inspector. ‘No doubt getting your head filled with all sorts of nonsense by unseemly types.’
Rourke appeared benign, but Shavi was picking up unmistakable signs of danger.
‘The car’s back at the road.’ Rourke jerked a lazy thumb over his shoulder. ‘I can give you a lift.’
‘I have transport.’
‘I’d like you to come with me, Shavi.’ Rourke’s voice had developed a hard core.
‘No.’ Shavi’s single word shattered all pretence.
Rourke approached quickly, but Shavi noted he did not step onto West Kennet Avenue. He kept just beyond the perimeter of the ancient sacred site. ‘I told you not to make changes to your life,’ Rourke continued. ‘You had a good job, a regular income, stability. Now look at you. Frankly, I think all this crazy change has pushed you over the edge.’
Though he wasn’t sure why, Shavi turned to the Bone Inspector and whispered, ‘Stay within the site’s boundaries until we approach the village. We may then have an opportunity to get to my van.’
The Bone Inspector pushed past him. ‘You don’t know the place as well as I do. Keep up – and don’t wander off the path.’
He bounded off and Shavi followed. As he passed Rourke, Shavi caught sight of something that chilled him: Rourke’s face was altering. In the moonlight it looked as if lumps were rising all over it.
After a few more paces, Shavi glanced back: it hadn’t been a trick of the light. Rourke’s face had started to come apart, the skin splitting to reveal a black, wriggling mass beneath. His eyes burst and unfolded. His mouth gaped wider and wider as the jaw began to disintegrate. To Shavi, it was as if he had been looking at a life-sized photograph of Rourke that was slowly being stripped away to reveal what was hiding behind it.
As a large chunk of cheek disappeared, the face became black and Shavi saw what was really there. Spiders as big as his fist poured forth, with thousands of smaller ones tumbling behind. They drained from Rourke’s sleeves and trousers and flowed towards Shavi, until finally Rourke fell apart completely. As the spiders moved across the grass it charred and faded under them. A flat, dead path was left in their wake.
Shavi didn’t wait any longer. He ran as fast as he could through the gate and back over the road to the embankment. At the top he looked back and saw the spiders moving almost as fast as he could run.
When he reached the far side of the stone circle, the Bone Inspector was waiting for him. ‘Where the bloody hell were you? I was just about to go off on my own.’
‘This way.’ With a twinge of unease, Shavi broke out of the circle and ran towards the pub. The Bone Inspector followed him into the van, cursing. Through the side window, Shavi could see the spiders streaming towards him. A stone wall fell apart before them as if they had eaten their way through it, but Shavi felt it was more than that: it had been erased.
‘Come on, you bloody idiot!’ The Bone Inspector bounced up and down in the passenger seat.
The van lurched forward with a screech of tyres. Soon they were speeding through the maze of night-dark country lanes that surrounded Avebury.
Shavi glanced into the rear-view mirror. ‘We have left them behind.’
‘Don’t you believe it. They’ll find you again. That’s what they do.’
‘What do we do now?’ Shavi gripped the wheel tightly.
‘Aye, well,’ the Bone Inspector replied, ‘that’s the question.’
5
Ruth allowed Rourke to guide her back to her flat with a brief detour to the local for a steadying drink. Her vision of the giant with the lantern obsessed her, but Rourke adamantly denied seeing anything.
Fee
ling a bit woozy after the three vodkas she’d downed in rapid succession, Ruth stumbled on the way up the stairs. Rourke caught her and wrapped his arms around her.
‘Don’t worry,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I’ll look after you.’
The sentiment was absurdly appealing. Ruth felt so disoriented, depressed and detached from the world that it would be a relief for somebody else to carry the heavy weight of her life for a while.
At her door, Rourke hugged her. ‘Are you going to be okay?’ he asked, concerned.
‘I’m fine, really.’ She wasn’t, and she thought Rourke knew that, too.
He kissed her gently on the lips. She hesitated and then kissed him back with passion. After a moment of hesitation, he returned the embrace with force.
Heat rose inside her. ‘Do you want to come in?’
Within moments they were writhing on the sofa, their hands all over each other’s bodies. After so long feeling numb, when Rourke brought his hand to her breast and gently squeezed her hard nipple the rush was almost delirious in its intensity. She felt the hardness in his trousers grind into her groin and she spasmed in response. She wanted him inside her. She wanted to feel again. She wanted to love and be loved. She wanted colour in her life, and music, and surges of wild emotion that would make her accept that she was really, truly alive. She didn’t want to be trapped in a monochromatic existence any longer, where every experience was cotton-wool padded and it didn’t matter to anyone, let alone her, whether she lived or died.
But as soon as the notion entered her head she realised it wasn’t Rourke she wanted; it was anyone. Just a warm human body from which she could leach some life and return from the dead.
‘I’m sorry.’ She gently eased him off her. ‘I can’t do this now. I didn’t mean to lead you on. I’m just a mess. It’s probably not good for you to be with me. Or for anyone to be with me, for that matter.’
Rourke straightened his clothes and Ruth was relieved to see he wasn’t offended or angry. ‘Don’t worry.’ He smiled. ‘I want it to be the right time for both of us.’
Jack of Ravens Page 20
