Sixty-One Nails cotf-1

by Mike Shevdon

  "Not many," she agreed.

  "We need to get moving if we're going to be any help at the hospital." Blackbird was gathering our things together. "We have a long walk ahead of us, so we'd better get going."

  "Can we give you a lift somewhere?" Jeff offered.

  "Actually, I don't think we need one," I told him. "Ben, would you mind keeping the old Quick Knife here? It's broken anyway and it's probably more use to you than it is to us."

  "I can do."

  "Then would you pass me the Dead Knife from the case?"

  He lifted the lid of the case, releasing the miasma that hung around the Quick Knife, and then closed it again after removing its dull grey twin.

  "What are you intending to do?" asked Blackbird.

  "I think there might be a quicker way back, and if it doesn't work, then our walk will still be waiting for us. It shouldn't take long."

  Jeff slid the knife across the table within reach and I picked it up. As the metal made contact with my skin, it shimmered momentarily and then fell into perfect black, a broad leaf of darkness.

  "Take hold of my hand."

  "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked.

  "No, but you did say I should trust my instincts. I don't think it'll do any harm and it could save us the journey. Do you want me to try it on my own first?"

  "No," she said. "I'll go where you're going. Then at least we won't get separated again." She reached out tentatively and grasped my hand. The knife stayed lightless but inert.

  "Ready?" I asked her.

  "Thank you, Jeff and Meg, for your hospitality," she said. "Ben, we will see you outside the Royal Courts of Justice at midday tomorrow."

  "I'll be there."

  "Now I'm ready," she told me.

  I lifted the knife in my hand and focused on it. Then I called to the emptiness within me. It welled upwards into the knife and the world slid into neither up nor down. Everything interleaved without touching, overlaid and underlapped in a kaleidoscopic dizziness. We were close to everywhere without being anywhere. I kept a firm grip on the warm hand clasped in mine as we slid between places, finding the gaps where we could pass, tasting but not touching.

  It occurred to me that we didn't have to go to London. I had the knife and was no longer bound by concerns of distance. We could go anywhere, be anywhere. The world would spin without us, if we dared let go. I only needed to choose somewhere calm and peaceful and we could find respite, just for a while.

  The possibilities were arrayed about me, tempting me with all the variations of existence. Each one was a world in a bubble, independent and isolated from those around it. All I had to do was choose.

  But if I chose a different world, then everything would change. The smith would arrive at the rendezvous alone and the knife would never be re-forged. The barrier would fall and Raffmir and his sister would come and go as they pleased, feeding on humanity. The world would slip into chaos.

  I could not let that happen, if only for the sake of my daughter, for they would surely seek her out and do to her what they had failed to do to me. I refocused, aware now that the drifting thought pattern was part of the interstitial space we traversed. Something here set the mind adrift so that thoughts wandered and all sense of space and time were lost. I began to understand how it was that I had lost two hours when I was here before.

  I forced myself to recall the image of the room above the abandoned underground station with the arched window looking out over the Strand. I formed the thought that we could be there.

  And we were.

  Blackbird staggered, unbalanced slightly by the sudden return of gravity and space. She looked around, recognising where we were. We could see through the window that it had fallen dark outside.

  She let out a held breath. "How much time did we lose?"

  I turned back, noting the change in her voice, realising that she had reverted to her older appearance, the one I had first encountered.

  "Is something wrong?" she asked me.

  "No. It's just I thought… never mind." I tried to hide my disappointment that she'd chosen to change back.

  "If we're going to meet Claire, it has to be as someone she will recognise," she pointed out, reasonably.

  "I know. I understand." It made logical sense, but I wasn't any happier about it.

  She approached me and lifted her mottled hand under my chin. It felt strange, as if her hands weren't hers somehow. It was an effort not to pull away.

  "It's still me, Niall."

  "I know, but it's strange. I know it's you, still…"

  "How much time do you think we lost?"

  "I'm not sure. It couldn't have been long." It had still been light in Shropshire, but we were further east here, so had we travelled into the dusk? Was that why it was so dark?

  She grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the stairs. "Niall, you have no idea about time there, do you?"

  "What do you mean? It's not late."

  "Not late? My watch says eleven o'clock. Which day is it?"

  "What do you mean, which day?"

  "I mean we left on Saturday. What day is it now?"

  "It's still Saturday, isn't it?"

  Blackbird pulled me down the stairs down to the corridor that led towards the street door. "I shouldn't have let you do that."

  "But we're here, quicker than we would have been. Travelling on the Ways would have taken longer and been much more exhausting."

  "You don't even know what day it is. What if we've missed the smith?"

  "We can't have, can we?" I followed her along the darkened corridor to the heavy door leading to the street. I felt a tingling sensation as her power swept out around us so we could exit the door unnoticed.

  She pulled back the bolt and twisted the lock, pulling open the heavy door and letting me past before she followed me out onto the pavement. We stepped outside into the street and I waited while she locked the door behind us. Once the door was secure, she let the magic surrounding us dwindle away.

  Cars were still rumbling down the Strand, though it was less busy than it had been when we were here before. A paleskinned guy in a duffel-coat, marking him out as a student, was walking towards us. Blackbird stepped into his path.

  "Excuse me, do you know the time, please?"

  He paused in his path and glanced at his wrist. "It's just before eleven." His accent marked him as a West Coast American.

  "And it is Saturday, is it?" she asked him.

  "Sure," he said. "It has been all day. Are you OK?"

  "We're fine. Just making sure," she told him.

  He stepped past and walked on, glancing back with a puzzled expression and then shrugged as if to acknowledge the strange eccentricities of the English.

  "We're in time," she acknowledged.

  "You see. I told you."

  "Niall, tell me truthfully, before I asked that man, were you sure what day it was? Really?"

  I couldn't lie to her. "No. I suppose not."

  "I shouldn't have assumed you knew what you were doing. We could have missed the whole thing."

  "It would have taken us almost as long to travel back on the Ways, especially if you take the walk into account."

  "Yes, but we could just as easily have ended up at next Tuesday and missed the ceremony."

  "We didn't, though, did we?" It was what she would have said to me in the same circumstances.

  Blackbird turned to me, exasperation on her face. "Do you know where the hospital is?"

  "I have the name of the hospital. I think it's somewhere near Marylebone."

  "Then perhaps we should get a taxi. A cab driver should know where it is."

  "Won't that be uncomfortable?"

  "We're not going very far and it's safer than other ways."

  She stepped to the edge of the Strand and hailed a passing black cab. It pulled across the traffic and drew up alongside us. I named the hospital to the driver and he gave us a curt nod, so we piled into the back.
<
br />   The journey to the hospital took us down the deserted shopping streets, the lights still bright in the windows. As we came closer to our destination the shops gave out to offices and residential buildings. The cab turned left into a side street and pulled up by the kerb.

  "Here ya go, mate." The driver announced our arrival.

  I paid him out of my diminishing cash and he rumbled away down the street.

  "There. That wasn't so terrible, was it?"

  "No, but I'm going to need more money soon."

  Trying to get more cash to bolster my diminishing reserves would be an interesting experiment, since I was sure if I used my cash card the police would know both where and when I had used it within minutes. They had already tried to track my phone, so the bank account would be the next logical step.

  "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," she said.

  It was an acknowledgement that if we could get to the ceremony then we would need to start thinking about the longer term. It brought home to me how little I had left. My life was in tatters and I was hunted by both the Untainted and the police. Still, if the re-forging of the knife went badly then there wouldn't be any future for me to worry about. I needed to focus on the task in front of me and set the consequences aside for later in the hope that there would be a later.

  "Claire said there was security at the hospital." I eyed the unguarded doorway as we approached, wondering what form that security might take.

  "If they are on the alert for unexplained visitors and strange faces then we may have some difficulty reaching Claire, even allowing for the fact that I can make us less noticeable. We will need to know where they are in the hospital, though."

  "What do you suggest?"

  "Why don't you go in and use your charm. It worked at the Royal Courts of Justice."

  "Will you wait here?"

  "Come back out here when you find out what's going on," she called after me.

  I walked across and up the steps through the front entrance into the well-lit reception. There were closed doors leading off to left and right at the back and a desk in the centre.

  "Can I help you?" The middle aged lady sat behind the desk would look more at home in a corporate reception than a hospital.

  "Yes, I hope so. I'm hoping to meet up with one of the visitors here. Her name is Claire Radisson. She's the clerk to the Queen's Remembrancer? I believe he's been admitted here and she's here with him. Would it be possible to see her?"

  "I am afraid his visitors are restricted," she told me.

  "I'm actually here to see the clerk, rather than the patient himself, but it's quite difficult to contact her while her mobile is switched off in the hospital," I explained. "I need to collect some things and I understand she's been here since he was admitted. It's quite urgent." I stressed the urgent part.

  "What name is it, please?"

  I used the name I had used when visiting the Royal Courts. "It's Dobson, Niall Dobson."

  She consulted a list in front of her. "Is there anyone with you, Mr Dobson?"

  "I have a friend with me. She's waiting outside."

  "And her name is?" she prompted.

  "Delemere. Veronica Delemere."

  "Ah yes, Ms Radisson had left instructions that she was to be informed when you arrived. I'll let her know you're here. If you would care to wait for a moment."

  She picked up the phone and indicated the chairs to either side of the reception area.

  I thanked her, but went back past the chairs and out to where Blackbird waited. Walking from the well-lit reception out into the dusk, it was hard to locate her. I jumped when she tapped me on the shoulder.

  "Don't do that."

  There was a prickling of the skin as the delicate threads of Blackbird's magic wrapped around us while she drew me out of the light and into the shadows beside the doorway.

  "Is something wrong?" I asked her.

  "Maybe, maybe not. If that receptionist is expecting us then maybe others are too."

  "How did you know she was…?" Then I realised what she'd done. "You were in there with me."

  "I followed you in unobtrusively. I wanted to see what happened."

  "You could have told me."

  "If I had told you then you would have looked for me. You might have given me away."

  "I wouldn't have."

  "You wouldn't be able to help yourself. As it was, you acted normally and I was able to take a quick peek at her notepad while she was dealing with you."

  "You were behind her?"

  "They are up on the fourth floor. There's a note for her to call suite four fifty-two when we arrive. That must be where they are."

  "Then let's go and find them."

  "I don't like going where I am expected."

  "You think it could be a trap? I don't think Claire would be involved in anything like that."

  "She may not be running things. If the police are involved then who knows what may be waiting for us. Come on." She walked away down the street.

  "Where are we going?"

  "To find another entrance."

  We walked around the side of the building and onto a side street. About three quarters of the way down the street there was an access ramp, big enough for the hospital laundry trucks. It led down into an area under the hospital which was blocked by a metal grid that rolled down from above. During the day when they were expecting deliveries it was probably rolled up, but now it sealed the ramp from the outside world.

  There was a box on the wall with a circular grill and button to speak to a remote station. The entrance had two cameras monitoring it, one pointing at the box and another scanning back and forth along the entry ramp in an automated cycle.

  Blackbird paused and then walked towards the shutter. The prickling of her magic intensified.

  "Stick close to me."

  We approached the wall box and she placed her hand upon it. There was a grinding squeak and the barrier began to rise.

  "Don't you just love technology?" she smiled. "Years ago I would have had to get someone to come and let us in. Now we can do everything remotely."

  "Won't the security people see us on the cameras?"

  "They won't be looking this way. No one will see anything."

  The barrier rolled down again behind us as we walked down the ramp. It opened out into a delivery bay with various doors into the hospital and three big roll-down shutters on loading ramps. They were all closed up and presumably locked. There was a bell-push next to one of the doors marked "Deliveries – Please Ring."

  "What now?" I asked her. It looked to me as if we had just trapped ourselves down here, but that was probably just my inexperience.

  "Well, we could go through one of these doors, but we don't know which way to go when we get inside."

  "So what do we do?"

  "We ring the bell."

  She walked over to the button and pushed it.

  "I thought we didn't want anyone to know we were here."

  "No, we just don't want the people who are expecting us to know we're here."

  "I don't see–"

  The door opened and a bemused looking porter stood in the doorway. He looked Mediterranean in origin, Portuguese maybe.

  "What are you doing out here? There is not supposed to be anyone out here at this time of day."

  Blackbird turned to him.

  "Ah, I'm so sorry. We're new here. I'm Veronica."

  She stuck out her hand and smiled and the bemused man accepted it into his. As soon as she touched him his face went blank. Then he blinked and looked at us again.

  "We don't usually have inspections on a Saturday night. Is there a problem?" he said.

  "No, there's no problem. You know how it is, you get behind and you end up working all hours to catch up."

  "Tell me about it. You'd better come through, then. Bring your colleague."

  I followed Blackbird through the door and we waited while the man locked it again.

  "We're going to
the fourth floor today," she told him.

  "Yes? You'd better use the service lift then. It's just down there on the right. You'll need a key."

  "May we borrow yours?"

  "Sure. I can come with you if you like?"

  "No, it's OK. We'll be fine." He pulled a ring of keys from his belt and eased off one with a yellow tag attached to it, handing it to Blackbird.

  "Thank you. We appreciate it."

  "No problem. Let me know if you need anything."

  He walked away down the corridor, unconcerned that he'd just let two complete strangers into the hospital and given them his lift key. We walked in the opposite direction, finding a service lift with wide doors.

  "Is that what you did to me, in Trafalgar Square, that first morning?"

  "Same gift, different application."

  "What does he think he's doing?" I asked her.

  "I'm really not sure, he was just being helpful. You'd have to ask him for the details. I created a reality for him where we were a normal part of his routine. I created just enough so he would believe it and then let him fill in the gaps. It's much more convincing if you let people do the hard work for themselves."

  "So he thinks we come here every day?"

  "Or often enough to make it unremarkable. He'll remember it in the same way he remembers what he had for lunch or what time he got into work. Not enough to make it stand out."

  We came to the service lift and Blackbird pressed the button to summon the lift. A red light indicated that it was coming.

  "So, in theory, I could still be having coffee with you in Trafalgar Square. All this could be a reality you created for me. Is that right?"

  "In theory, yes, though if you start down that road then you'll never figure out what's real."

  The lift doors juddered apart making a grinding noise that did not inspire confidence. Blackbird stepped inside and inserted the key, turning it to the priority setting. I followed her in and she pressed the button for the fourth floor. The door stuttered closed behind me.

  "But this could be all in my head, like a dream." The lift jerked into motion.

  "Your world is always in your head, Niall. It's the only world you will ever know. If you start to question everything you see then you are undermining your own foundations."