Though like puppets you repose.
The puppetmaster makes you dance,
But keep your eyes tight shut.
For when you least expect it.
Snip, snip!
… the strings are cut …’
Turn the page for a sneak preview of
Kingdom of the Serpent: Book 2
The Burning Man
Prologue
SEMI-CHARMED LIFE
1
London sleeps, London dreams.
In the quiet hour before dawn, the city breathes steadily. The river drifts, dark and slow. The trains have stopped, the traffic has slowed. Listen. You can almost hear each exhalation, and the whispers that rise from the subterranean unconscious.
In Ealing and Richmond and Clapham, children wake, crying about a fire, a terrible fire, and their parents cannot calm them. One, in Battersea, gives clear voice to his fears. Afterwards, his mother sits alone in the dark lounge, sobbing.
Along the Strand, a policeman stops, troubled. Every night an old homeless man everyone knows as Glasgow Tom sits on his patch and babbles relentlessly from dusk till dawn. Tonight, for the first night the policeman can remember in three years, Glasgow Tom is silent. He sits against the wall, reeking of strong, cheap beer and urine, and traces an outline of a man against the dark sky, over and over again.
In the zoo, to the north, beyond the green expanse of Regent’s Park, there is no silence. The animals howl and chatter and scream in a way that their keepers have never before heard. The beasts look to the sky as if seeing things that no human can see: in every cage and pen, animals looking to the sky. With jokes and shrugs, the keepers try to believe there is some rational explanation. There is not.
At the insect house, in the glass case of solenopsis invicta, sixty-five million years of order have fallen. In their nest, the fire ants have turned on each other, killing their own kind wantonly. In the glass cases beyond, the arachnids are still and watchful.
The city dreams strange dreams.
To the east, in the commercial district bleeding out of the City and into the old Docklands, the monumental buildings, and the expensive cars, and the well-tailored suits dream of hard things; of money and what money makes. Sleep here is easy.
But there are those who do not have the luxury of rest. High up in the tallest tower in Canary Wharf are the offices of Steelguard Securities, which prides itself on being the hardest, the most driven, most morally ambivalent and therefore most successful company in the quarter. Here two employees still toil despite the lateness of the hour.
Mallory is beneath notice, in his blue overalls, his dark hair fastened back with an elastic band, with his vacuum and his cleaning products, maintaining his ironic disposition despite the same routine of emptying bins and cleaning phones night after night after night. When he is asleep, Mallory is not allowed to dream. His dreams come when he is awake, in flashes that are almost like memories, rich in detail and clarity of purpose. Yet they could not be real in any way, and so he is troubled by them. In his dreams, he is a hero with a magical sword, battling in a fallen world: one of five great heroes struggling to prevent life slipping into endless shadow.
Yet here he is with his vacuum and cleaning products. No sword; no hero by any measure.
In the main dealing room, beyond the glass partition wall that Mallory cleans, sits another employee. Like Mallory, she is in her late twenties, with an intelligent but knowing face that Mallory finds intriguing. Sophie Tallent is also not allowed to dream while she sleeps. She watches the figures on her screen as the Nikkei 225 index rises and falls in minute increments. Like Mallory, Sophie has lucid flashes of another life that she fervently wishes was real, a life filled with meaning, the soothing pulse of nature, swelling emotions, and deeds that helped make the world a better place. In contrast, her existence at Steelguard is a ghost-life, where the dead continue with the meaningless rituals they followed when they were alive.
Sometimes she glances at Mallory, and sometimes he casts a furtive glance at her, but their eyes never meet. It has been that way for as long as they have worked there, which feels like forever. Occasionally they wonder what they would see in those depths if their gaze did coincide.
Mallory was so engrossed in the woman that he did not hear any footsteps approach through the echoing annexe. Perhaps there had not been any. Startled by a cough, he turned to find the kind of man who could appear in any situation and leave no impression whatsoever: bland features, neither handsome nor unattractive, dark hair cut short but not too threatening, dark suit, not too expensive, not too cheap. Mallory even had difficulty placing his age.
‘I’m Mr Rourke, the night manager,’ he said. ‘Haven’t you finished here yet? Stop dragging your feet.’
Mallory thought he knew everyone on the night staff, but he had never seen Rourke before. Nearly done.’ Sullenly, he returned to his cleaning products. Something about the manager set his teeth on edge.
When he had reclaimed the window cleaner, he was surprised to see another person had arrived silently behind Rourke. Mallory had a second to take in the man’s determined face before a fiery crackle signalled Rourke’s head leaping from its shoulders.
At first Mallory had difficulty perceiving what the assassin was holding. His mind told him it was a clockwork machine, seemingly too large for him to grasp, then a crystal glowing a brilliant white. Finally he realised it was an ancient sword with a thin blue flame flickering along the edge.
And then he was no longer the Mallory who cleaned the toilets five times a day. Instinctively, he whisked his mop handle to the stranger’s throat like a sword. The stranger simply smiled.
You killed him,’ Mallory said incredulously.
I’ve been looking for you for a long time. They hid you well,’ the stranger said. My name’s Church. I’m here to take you back to your real life.’
Mallory’s thoughts were already racing ahead, evaluating numerous strategies for disarming the assassin, defensive positions to protect the woman in the next room.
Church appeared to know exactly what Mallory was thinking. He wagged one cautionary finger, then pointed down.
Where Mallory had expected to see Rourke’s severed head, there were now spiders, lots of them, some small, some as big as his fist. Rourke’s body, too, was disintegrating as the spiders appeared from its depths. Apparently with a single mind, they surged towards Church, and where they passed it appeared the very fabric of the building was being scoured to reveal a hole into space.
‘Don’t ask questions now,’ Church said. ‘If the spiders get you, you’ll be gone from this world in an instant.’ He grabbed Mallory’s overalls and hauled him away from the black stream. To the stairs. I’ll explain everything once we’re safe.’
Mallory half-resisted, but in the same instinctive way he had wielded his mop like a weapon, he knew Church could be trusted. ‘There’s a woman—’
‘She’s being taken care of.’
Through the glass, Mallory saw another woman who reminded him of a pre-Raphaelite painting, dark, curly hair framing a pale, attractive face. She was talking intently to the one who had been at work at the terminal.
Her name’s Ruth’ Church said. She’s one of us. She’ll get your friend out.’
Mallory had no time to question Church’s use of the word friend’, for the spiders were now flooding in pursuit. Mallory flipped over a desk to block their path, but they cut through it with such ease it appeared illusory.
What are they?’ he shouted.
The ones that really rule this world. Now, move.’
Ruth and the other woman emerged from another door into the lobby near the lifts.
Two for two,’ Church said to Ruth. Result.’
‘We’re not out of here yet.’ Ruth flashed a smile at Mallory. ‘This is Sophie Tallent,’ she announced. She feels she knows me from somewhere.’
Sophie. Mallory turned the name over in his mind. He was oddly pleased to see a det
ermination in her face, somehow familiar. Her eyes met his for the first time; a connection, deep and puzzling and exhilarating.
Casting a glance at the spiders flooding into the lobby, Church threw open the door to the stairwell. We’re not risking getting trapped in the lifts. You’re the one with the power. Can’t you do something?’ he said to Ruth.
It’s not like turning on a light switch,’ she snapped. I really need a ritual—’
Do what you can.’
Cursing under her breath, Ruth turned to face the spiders, half-bowed her head and closed her eyes. Mallory heard her whisper a word that he didn’t recognise, but which made his stomach turn. An instant later the lights went out.
‘Brilliant,’ Church said.
‘I told you I needed a ritual!’
Mallory felt himself propelled into the inky stairwell and the door slammed behind him. That won’t hold them at all,’ Ruth said. Church sighed, said nothing.
A cool hand fumbled into Mallory’s and he realised it was Sophie’s. If we can get down three floors there are windows,’ she said. ‘The spotlights on the building will give us enough illumination to see.’
If we haven’t broken all our necks by then,’ Ruth said sourly.
Clutching on to the railings, they moved down the stairs as quickly as they could. An intense rustling came from the door at their backs.
Moan, moan, moan,’ Church said. A faint blue light rose up. Mallory realised it was coming from the sword which Church held aloft like a lantern.
Down two flights they hurried, stumbling and cursing, until small objects began to fall on Mallory’s head and shoulders, each igniting a burning sensation that made him yell. Church brought the sword closer. In its glow, Mallory was horrified to see spiders clinging to him, eating through his thick overalls and into his flesh. More were raining from above.
‘Get them off!’ he shouted; ‘I hate spiders!’
The others helped tear them off as they stumbled down the stairs. The spiders felt hard, almost metallic, and they writhed sickeningly under the fingertips. His overalls sticky with blood, Mallory hurled them away. Some burst against the walls, but the majority merely bounced and renewed their attack.
They were only a few steps ahead of the cascading spiders as they reached the windows that looked out over London’s glittering cityscape.
Was this supposed to be some kind of rescue?’ Mallory snapped. Because if it was, it’s the worst one ever.’
They made it down three more floors, their injuries mounting with each level. Finally they could go no further. The volume of spiders behind them was so great the stairwell was covered – floor and walls – apart from a small semi-circle where the four of them had been backed against the window.
How many of them are there? ‘Sophie said, aghast.
‘About ten billion,’ Church replied,’ give or take.’
‘I’ve got to say, you seem pretty blase about this,’ Mallory shouted.
‘You’re taking it in your stride too.’
Mallory was surprised to realise this was true.
Give me your hand,’ Ruth said to Sophie. If everything’s right, you should still have some vestige of ability to manipulate the Craft.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Sophie bristled, unable to take her eyes off the advancing black line. Ruth took her hand nonetheless.
Try not to make things worse this time,’ Church said.
Ruth mouthed some insult, but her attention was already focussing internally.
What am I supposed to do?’ Sophie asked.
‘Don’t think. Just feel.’
Mallory was surprised to see Church was now oblivious to the threat of the spiders. He had returned the sword to a scabbard strapped across his back and stood with his hands pressed against the glass, looking out over the Thames and the lights of the City.
Mallory kicked out at the nearest spiders. The tip of his boot hung ragged where it made contact. Some help.’
‘I am helping,’ Church said quietly. ‘You need to lighten up.’
Behind the skyscrapers of the financial quarter, the clouds were lit with lightning. ‘Okay,’ Church said. ‘Do your stuff.’
Ruth bowed her head so her hair fell across her face. The stale air of the stairwell took on the freshness of the seaside. The advancing spiders came to a hesitant stop. In the entirety of the stairwell, there was no movement at all. Far outside, a rumble of thunder; another flash of lightning.
Sophie stiffened, her eyelids fluttering. A flush had risen to her cheeks. Her hand was unresponsive where Mallory held it.
Now would be good,’ Church said.
Ruth threw her head back and said a single word. Mallory was thrown to his knees by a force that came from nowhere. With an eerie silence, it blew the windows out, shards glittering as they fell to the rail transit far below. Standing on the brink, Church was unmoved by the powerfully gusting wind that raged inside, threatening to pluck them all out.
Sophie staggered, shook her head. Oh. What happened?’ As she came to her senses, she noticed a curious thing: the spiders had moved back several feet. They’re scared,’ she said, puzzled. Of us.’
It’ll pass.’ Ruth grabbed Church’s shoulder with what Mallory noted as tenderness. This would not be a good time to screw up.’
Don’t worry. Look.’
Mallory followed Church’s pointing arm to a strange motion in the sky far away over the City. The lights of the Lloyd’s building were briefly obscured before appearing again.
The spiders are moving again,’ Sophie warned.
Mallory was fascinated by the shifting patterns of shadow and light outside. Gold and red flared briefly against the towering structures. Deep in the dark at the back of his head, where his true self had been locked away for too long, memories stirred; feelings of danger, awe and wonder.
Church saw the thoughts play across Mallory’s face. The world doesn’t have to be like this,’ he said.
‘Church, we can’t wait any longer.’ The urgency in Ruth’s voice jolted them both from their reflection.
The spiders inched forward, gaining confidence.
Whatever you did … can’t you do it again?’ Mallory asked.
‘It doesn’t work like that.’ An edge of weariness sharpened Ruth’s words. She pressed Sophie back towards Mallory and Church at the window.
Another strong gust. Mallory grabbed the window jamb to stop him being pulled out. He had a brief, head-spinning view down the vast expanse of the tower to the railway line so far below it was barely visible.
Okay, out there,’ Church said insistently. He motioned to a thin ledge that ran around the outside of the tower just below the window.
‘You’re joking!’ Mallory saw that Church wasn’t.
‘Come up with a better plan, you get to be king.’ Steeling himself, Church stepped out of the window, pressing his back against the smooth wall of the tower. Mallory could see the strain in his face as he forced himself not to look down. The wind gusted and roared, deafening.
A surge of spiders drove Mallory, Sophie and Ruth out after him. Sophie gave a small cry, her face drained of blood, and Mallory grabbed her and pressed her back as she almost lurched over the edge.
What’s wrong with you?’ Mallory yelled over the wind. There’s nowhere to go from here! Why did I ever come with you?’
Because you chose life.’
Mallory’s ironic laugh was stolen from his lips by the raging wind. He could barely hold on. Closing his eyes, he thought he was going to be sick.
‘Keep moving,’ Ruth shouted, ‘the spiders are still coming!’
‘This is pointless!’ Mallory yelled. ‘We’re all dead!’
I’m trying to buy us some time.’ Church edged further along the ledge.
Eyes screwed shut, Sophie was paralysed, barely even breathing. Closing his own eyes so he didn’t have to see the drop, Mallory squeezed her hand and urged her to match him step for step along t
he ledge. The wind tugged at his feet, got behind his back and lifted him away from the wall. He forced himself against it, gasping. Nowhere to go,’ he said to himself.
Yes, there is,’ Church shouted. Look!’
Above the Thames, whatever Mallory had spied earlier was moving closer. Occasionally it would be caught in the spotlights of the new buildings that lined the river, and then it would gleam like jewels. It was still a silhouette against the city’s lights, but Mallory could tell it was the size of an airliner. A burst of fire erupted from the front with a roar, and in its glare Mallory saw burning eyes and a serpentine tail, and the billowing wings that carried it on the currents that surged among the skyscrapers.
Gaping, he almost forgot where he was. It was a dream, of the city, of his own troubled, imprisoned mind. Behind him, the spiders swarmed along the side of the building, many plucked off by the wind and sent spiralling into the dark gulf, forgotten now in the face of approaching wonder.
Is that—?’ Sophie had opened her eyes as though she had sensed what was coming.
‘Yes,’ Mallory said, ‘It is.’ He was puzzled why he wasn’t more surprised. He saw Church was smiling and that didn’t surprise him either.
The Fabulous Beast caught the thermals and soared over the Thames.
‘Come on!’ Ruth urged. ‘I’ve got spiders nibbling at my fingers!’
You’re summoning it?’ Mallory said.
His eyes glassy, Church didn’t respond. The Beast glided languorously around the towers of Docklands, the beat of its enormous wings echoing louder than the wind. As it neared, Church came alive. When it passes beneath us, jump.’
Mallory and Sophie looked at him with horror. Before they could protest, Ruth placed one hand in the small of Sophie’s back and propelled her off the ledge. Church did the same with Mallory.
The wind tore at Mallory as he fell, kicking. Two seconds of plummeting stretched to an age, and then he hit the back of the Beast, winding him. He slid, clung on to a bony tine along its spine, felt the others land nearby. The wings thundered with a steady, deafening beat and they rose higher, and higher still. Mallory watched the lights of the towers fall away as he clung on for dear life.
Jack of Ravens Page 52
