Rise of the Darklings

by Paul Crilley

Emily hurried along the street for about half an hour, the river churning away on her right. She could smell the salty, sickening stench of fish as she hurried along the freezing streets. That meant she was close to Billingsgate Market. She wondered if Christopher Wren had purposefully kept all the locations within such close proximity. It couldn’t simply be a coincidence, surely?

  She passed London Bridge and turned left onto Fish Street Hill, moving along the narrow road until it met up with Monument Yard. Here, Emily finally stopped. The Monument towered high above her. She couldn’t see the top from her position but recalled there was some sort of deck where you could look out over London. The base of the pillar was an imposing block of stone. On the side she was facing, stone figures had been carved into the wall, but she couldn’t quite see what they were supposed to be doing.

  Emily walked around the base, looking for the way in. On the three remaining walls were huge plaques on which verses had been written in another language—Latin, she thought.

  Emily found the entrance to the Monument on the fourth wall. She pushed open the unlocked door and walked forward, then paused and waited for the moonlight to brighten the shadows.

  Emily didn’t like it in here. She felt like she was being watched, that at any moment someone would jump out of the shadows. She took a deep, steadying breath. Get ahold of yourself she thought. You’ve come too far to be frightened off by an uneasy feeling.

  What had the voice said? Repeat the rhyme and hold the power. Well, no need to wait around for permission.

  “If clouds or mists do dark the sky,

  Great store of birds and beasts shall die.

  And if the winds do file aloft,

  Then war shall vex the kingdom oft.”

  She held her breath, listening for the slightest sound in the darkness.

  Then she heard it. Stone grating on stone.

  It came from somewhere to her right. Emily reached out and felt along the wall, moving her hands across the cold stone until she encountered empty air. She shuffled forward, waving her hands in front of her to make sure she didn’t walk into anything, then stepped through an empty doorway. The moonlight didn’t reach this far, but as she stood and waited for her eyes to adjust to the deeper darkness, she became aware of a glow up ahead.

  Emily hurried forward and found a small trapdoor in the floor. The glow was shining up through the cracks in the wood. She heaved it open and found a flight of neat steps leading underground.

  Emily followed the stairs into a small room dominated by a strange-looking telescope mounted on a table. The telescope was pointed straight up a hollow shaft that disappeared into the ceiling.

  The light Emily had seen shining through the trapdoor was coming from a large opening in the brick wall. Emily edged forward and saw that a large section of the wall had swung inward, a secret door revealing a second set of wider, cruder stairs.

  The orange light grew stronger as Emily descended, flickering against the rough walls. The stairs ended at an archway that opened up into a large room. Emily paused on the threshold, staring around in surprise.

  The room seemed to be a laboratory and library mixed into one. Books lay everywhere, some opened, some closed, others in tall piles that had tipped back against the walls but still somehow managed to stay upright. Shelves hung from the ceiling, holding an assortment of vials and jars, books and scrolls.

  In the middle of the room was a huge table covered with strange artifacts. Emily walked forward a few steps to get a better look. As she did so, a glass lizard turned its head to watch her progress. There was a cage filled with clockwork birds that preened and cooed to one another. Set into the actual wood of the table was a green-colored glass inlay.

  Only it wasn’t glass. It took Emily a second to realize that it was the twin to the dragon’s eye Miss LaFleur said she had stolen from Merlin.

  Emily craned to see if the eye was showing anything of interest, but its surface was totally blank.

  “That’s my own version of a camera obscura,” said a scratchy voice.

  Emily whirled around. Off to her left, hidden from view beyond the table, was what appeared to be a stone bed. An old man sat up. He yawned and stretched, various bones in his body popping and clicking as he did so. He winced. “Two hundred years of sleep. Not easy to shake off.”

  Emily swallowed, trying to get over her shock. The old man had long white hair that stood out at all angles, and a beard that fell to his stomach. He inspected it and shook his head ruefully.

  “I tried a spell to stop its growth. Obviously didn’t work, eh?”

  Emily opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, the old man looked at her sharply. “Please don’t ask me who I am. If you do, I shall lose any respect I may currently harbor for you.”

  “You’re Merlin,” she said.

  “Correct! Well done, girl.” He stood up, wincing again as his spine cracked. “How have you been, Emily Snow? It’s been a long time.”

  Emily blinked. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

  “Not yet, no.” He waved away Emily’s puzzled expression. “Don’t worry. It will all make sense eventually.”

  Merlin hauled himself upright and hobbled over to one of the shelves on the wall. He rummaged around, then found what he was looking for and threw it across the room. Emily caught it instinctively.

  It was an object wrapped in a dusty piece of cloth. Emily pulled the material away and found herself looking at the second half of the key.

  Merlin waved his hand in the air. “Just … hold the two pieces together and they’ll join. Nothing to it, really.”

  Emily reached inside her coat and took out the first half of the key. She brought the two half-circles together, feeling them pull on her hands as if they were magnets. She let them touch, and the roots on each one unraveled and then twined around each other, joining the two pieces together so that it looked as if they had never been apart.

  “There you are,” said Merlin. “Told you so.”

  Emily frowned. What an anticlimax. After all that she had been through to get the first piece, this seemed so … pedestrian. Admittedly, she was standing here talking to Merlin the Magician, but still.

  “Why didn’t you just put both pieces at St. Paul’s?” she asked. “What was the point of making me come here?”

  “Wren’s idea,” said Merlin. “Very … careful, that man. Congratulations on solving the riddle, by the way. I said it was too hard, but he refused to change it. Said it had to be something only you would understand.”

  “I nearly didn’t.”

  Merlin shrugged. “A chance he was willing to take, if the alternative was the faeries getting their hands on it.”

  “Yes, but … what if the Queen did get to St. Paul’s first? What if they knew where Merlin’s Tower was?”

  “Then we’d be finished, wouldn’t we? Besides, we had to do it this way. You told us to.”

  Emily blinked. “I told you to? What are you talking about?”

  “We hid the clues so only you could find them. Surely you must have wondered how this was possible?”

  Emily nodded.

  “The answer is simple. You told us to do it this way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The great war. Sixteen sixty-six. The Fire King. His minions. It was a very close thing, but we had help. Your help, to be precise.”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Emily.

  A change descended over Merlin. He drew himself up and glared at her. “Silly?!” he snapped. “Do not ever accuse me of silliness. I’ve been alive for thousands of years. I’ve seen things that would make the hardiest of men crawl into a corner and weep for days on end. When I say something, I do not lie. Just because you cannot comprehend how such a thing can be, does not make it impossible. Such thoughts are the height of arrogance.”

  Then, as if nothing untoward had just happened, he smiled at her.

  “Of course, I can’t tell you what happened—”
<
br />   “Why not?” interrupted Emily.

  “Because one cannot mess around with history. If I tell you what happened, then you do something differently, what then? I’ll tell you, shall I? Why, it would be the end of everything.”

  “But …” Emily frowned, confused. “You just said I told you what to do so that I could get the clues. Isn’t that the same thing?”

  “Ah, no. Good point. You didn’t delve into specifics, you see. I wouldn’t let you.”

  “I don’t understand any of this,” said Emily. “How could I have been alive in sixteen sixty-six? Are you saying I’ve been alive since then but can’t remember? That I’ve lost my memory?”

  “No, I’m not saying that at all. But here we are drawing dangerously close to my telling you what will occur. I don’t want to influence what happens, you see. Have to let history take its natural course.”

  He sighed and looked sympathetic. “My dear, you will find out soon enough that sixteen sixty-six is just the tip of the iceberg. How can I put this? Let’s just say that this war with the fey has been fought throughout history.” He paused. “And that you have been present at nearly every single important battle. You grew quite close to King Arthur, as I recall.”

  Emily scowled. “You’re making fun of me now.”

  Merlin held his hands up in the air. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Emily was about to ask him something more, but he spoke before she got the chance.

  “I’m afraid that is all I can say for the moment. You’ve woken me up, and that means the end game is approaching. The culmination of thousands of years of warfare is going to occur over the next few days. You’re going to … Well, you are going to do whatever it is you are going to do. And I will see you again quite soon, although it might not seem that way to you.” He smiled sadly at her. “And you will be a very different girl.”

  “Why do you have to be so cryptic?”

  Merlin drew himself up again. “Madam, I am an enchanter. It is my right to be cryptic.”

  Emily felt totally lost. She was sure there were a hundred questions she should be asking Merlin, but right now she couldn’t think of a single one. And time was moving on.

  “It’s not long till dawn,” said Merlin, as if reading her mind. He gazed deep into her eyes. “Times are going to be hard for you, my child. But you must try and make the decisions that are true and pure. Those decisions might not necessarily be what you want, but such is life. We all have to make sacrifices for the greater good. You are no different. Now, off you go.”

  Emily reluctantly headed back to the stairs. She turned around once, but Merlin had his back to her and was partaking of some stretching exercises.

  “Got to be limber for the days ahead,” she heard him mutter.

  Emily shook her head. Mad. The lot of them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Jack and Corrigan.

  FOUR O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING

  ON THE THIRD DAY OF EMILY’S ADVENTURES.

  Jack was freezing cold and surrounded by darkness. He could feel mud oozing through the weave of the sack, squelching between his hands and seeping into his clothes. He pushed his finger into the hole he’d managed to pick in the stitching along the seam. He wiggled it about, pulling the small gap wider. He finally got it big enough so that he could insert two fingers, then he pulled.

  The stitching gave way with a loud, tearing noise. Jack froze, but neither Jenny Greenteeth nor Black Annis came to investigate. He then painstakingly pulled the rest of the stitching apart until he thought he could fit through the gap. He looked through the opening. He was surrounded by trees. Black Annis had dropped him in a large puddle. He could see another sack close by—that must be Corrigan.

  “I’m hungry, Black Annis,” whined a voice he recognized as Greenteeth’s. “Can’t I eat them? Just a little bit? A leg, maybe? Or a juicy finger.”

  “No,” replied Annis. “We can’t harm them yet, Jenny. The Dagda said so.”

  “But I need food.”

  “Jenny!” snapped Annis. “Just hold on to your horses till Ravenhill gets to the meeting place. Then you can eat the entire Invisible Order for all I care.”

  Jack frowned. What was this? Why was Ravenhill coming here?

  “Can I have Ravenhill?” asked Jenny. “I don’t like him, Black Annis.”

  “I don’t like him either, poppet, but no. He’s the Queen’s man now. Seems he’s seen sense and switched sides. You’re not allowed to touch him.”

  Jack felt a cold thrill run through his body. The Queen’s man? Had Ravenhill betrayed them all? Betrayed the Invisible Order? It certainly sounded that way.

  He had to warn Emily—

  Jack paused. No, he couldn’t. He had no idea where Emily was.

  He had to get word to Sebastian. He would know what to do.

  “Hss,” said Black Annis. “You hear that?”

  Jack froze, holding his breath. Had they heard him?

  “It’s someone on the path, Black Annis. Looks like a bobby. Can I have him? Please?”

  Black Annis chuckled. “Go ahead, poppet. But make it quick.”

  Jack breathed a sigh of relief and pushed his head through the gap in the sack. There was no sign of Jenny Greenteeth. Black Annis was some distance away, moving in slow circles, dancing with an invisible partner. She wasn’t paying him any attention.

  Jack shrugged off the sack and stood up. He turned quickly, getting his bearings. He hesitated, wondering if he should just leave Corrigan where he was, then decided the irritating creature might still come in handy and grabbed the sack from the ground.

  Then he ran as if all the bobbies in London were after him.

  Jack burst out of a copse of trees and frantically looked around. There was a path just ahead, weaving through the grass. He suddenly realized where he was: Hyde Park.

  Jack followed the path at a run. He thought he heard a screech of anger some way behind him, but he didn’t stop. He just kept on running till he got through the gates and into the street. Only then did he glance over his shoulder for signs of pursuit.

  Nothing.

  He sucked in great mouthfuls of air. Then he shook the sack. “You all right in there?”

  There was a moment’s silence. Then a suspicious voice said, “Jack?”

  Jack untied the sack and tipped it upside down, spilling Corrigan onto the pavement. The piskie scrambled to his feet and looked around, then glared at Jack. “What are you thinking, running around like that? You nearly broke my neck!”

  “Why don’t you show some gratitude, you little wretch! I rescued you!”

  “I didn’t ask you to, did I?”

  Jack was tempted to simply turn around and leave the aggravating piskie to his own devices, but he had more important things to think about at the moment. He raised his hands in the air. “Enough,” he said. “A truce, yes? I overheard something back in the park. It’s important.”

  Corrigan grudgingly nodded. “Fine. Truce. But it’s only temporary, mind! Now, what’s so important?”

  “Ravenhill has betrayed the Invisible Order.”

  “Rubbish,” scoffed Corrigan. “Why would he do that?”

  “I’ve no idea. But I heard what I heard. Annis said Ravenhill was the Queen’s man now, that he had switched sides. And that Greenteeth could eat as many of the Invisible Order as she wanted when they got to the meeting place.”

  “Where’s the meeting place?”

  “She didn’t say. We have to get back to Somerset House and warn them before they leave.”

  Corrigan said nothing.

  “What, you don’t want to help?” said Jack.

  An uneasy look flashed across the piskie’s face. “I’ve stayed alive this long by trying to keep to my own business, boy. Getting involved only leads to trouble.”

  “Don’t you think you owe us? After all the trouble you’ve caused Emily, don’t you think it’s your duty to stick with this till the end?”

  Corrigan thou
ght about it, then reluctantly nodded. “Fine. I’ll see this through. But for her, not you.”

  “Fine by me,” said Jack.

  Corrigan held out his hand.

  Jack stared at it. “I’m not your friend, piskie. I think you’re a sneak, a liar, and a backstabber. I don’t want to shake your hand.”

  “That’s good. Because I don’t want to shake yours, either. I just want a lift onto your shoulders.”

  Jack ran all the way back to Somerset House. Part of him was hoping that Emily would be there. He remembered Black Annis said that the Dagda only wanted to talk to her. If that was the case, then maybe she had been released and had returned here to check on William. If not, he could warn Sebastian about Ravenhill, then head out to search for her.

  At the wide stairs leading up to the doors, Corrigan hopped from Jack’s shoulders. “I can’t go in there,” the piskie said. “Too much iron, remember?”

  “Fine. I’ll warn them, then we can find Emily and try and sort out this second clue.”

  “Don’t dawdle,” shouted Corrigan as Jack jogged up the stairs.

  Jack ignored him and headed for the window Emily had left ajar. It was now wide open. Jack paused. She hadn’t opened it this widely, had she? Maybe she really was here.

  Jack slipped into Somerset House and retraced the route to Sebastian’s office. The Royal Society was eerily quiet. He didn’t see a single soul as he hurried through the corridors.

  He hurried through the library to the door leading into the rooms of the Invisible Order. He could hear banging. And muffled shouting.

  Jack hurried along the corridor. As he drew nearer, he realized the noises were coming from Sebastian’s office. Puzzled,

  Jack turned the key he found in the lock and opened the door, to find himself standing face-to-face with a very angry William Snow.

  “Will?”

  “Jack! Thank goodness. Em locked me in here. She said I couldn’t go with her. That it was too dangerous.”

  Jack’s heart sank. “She’s not here?”

  “Not anymore. She left about an hour ago. Jack, Em said our ma and da are still alive. That she might be able to get them back.”