Location, Location, Damnation

by Nick Moseley

  Granddad pointed. 'That's the Queen's residence up ahead.'

  'Is there a King as well?'

  'Not that I know of.'

  'How do you tell the male ones from the female ones anyway?'

  'I've no idea. The ghouls seem to have worked it out though.'

  'Obviously.'

  As befitted her status the ghoul Queen had the largest of Murkhome's buildings. It towered above its neighbours, reaching up to the roof of the chamber, and it was also the most brightly-decorated structure Trev had seen. Coloured lanterns bedecked the exterior and it even had glass windows, albeit made from old green wine bottles.

  There were another two of the guardsmen stationed outside. In contrast to the chattering entourage trailing behind Trev and Granddad, they appeared very calm and watchful. Their comrades marched up to the front doors, snapped to attention and were acknowledged with a spear-waving salute. One of the guards then rapped firmly on the door before stepping back into position.

  Trev edged a little nearer Granddad, conscious of the ghouls pressing in all around him. He'd never suffered from a fear of crowds before, but then he'd never been in a crowd of tiny, scaly freaks before.

  After several hour-long seconds one of the doors creaked open, revealing a ghoul clad in a rough approximation of a tuxedo. It grinned rather unnervingly at the two humans.

  'Custodian given enthusiastic welcome to beautiful city of Murkhome,' it said. 'Visitors met by Grubie, fifty-seven, ghoul Queen's most trusted advisor. Custodian pumped for exclusive interview?'

  Twenty-Two

  The interior of the ghoul Queen's residence was cheerfully chaotic. Every surface was home to an assortment of ornaments, bric-a-brac and good old-fashioned gimcrackery. The Queen was clearly fond of shiny objects, even if they were broken; several shattered wing-mirrors had been artfully combined into a chandelier that hung from the ceiling, and many of the ornaments had been wrapped in tinfoil. One whole wall had been covered with fragments of mirrors and polished pieces of metal. Trev stood and regarded his multiple reflections in the murky green light seeping in through the wine-bottle windows.

  Grubie had scurried off up a flight of wooden stairs to fetch his (Trev had decided the aide was a 'he'; the tuxedo had swung it) Queen, leaving the visitors in the company of yet another pair of guards. Trev sized one of them up out of the corner of his eye, trying to decide whether the little armoured chaps were there just for effect or if they really were proper soldiers. For all he knew the ghouls might have their own lethal martial arts and be capable of snapping his neck like a twig. If they could, they were hiding it well by looking like small children who'd broken into their mum's saucepan cupboard. And, of course, they weren't equipped with vapour weapons. Trev patted his breast pocket and smirked.

  Granddad sidled over to him. 'If you don't stop messing with that thing I'll remove it from your person,' he said quietly.

  Trev sighed. 'If I had a tenner for every time I'd been told that…'

  'Oh for goodness' sake,' said Granddad, rolling his eyes. 'I'm your Granddad, I don't want to hear that sort of thing.'

  'Best not to talk to me then,' replied Trev. He fidgeted. 'What's taking them so long?'

  'They're keeping us waiting,' said Granddad. 'Letting us know we're not exactly top of the list of priorities. The general populace of Murkhome might be overawed by the sight of humans but their Queen isn't. She's been around a long time and she's very canny. It's probably best if you just do what I do and let me deal with the conversation.'

  'Fine,' said Trev with a shrug. 'I just want to get this over with. I don't feel safe here.'

  'We'll be fine,' Granddad reassured him. 'I told you, as Custodian of Brackenford I have a sort of diplomatic immunity. The Custodians have a long-standing agreement with the ghouls that we won't expose their settlements as long as they don't make a nuisance of themselves on the surface, and that they'll provide help and assistance should we need it and it's within their power to give.'

  'You've got this in writing somewhere? Or did they agree to it when they were drunk or something?'

  'I think I've got a copy of the original document in my files somewhere. It's called the Treaty of Dudley.'

  'Right.' Trev felt a little calmer but he wasn't completely mollified. He just felt so jarringly out of place, and no scrap of paper was going to change that for him.

  There was a discreet cough from the top of the staircase. Grubie had returned. The ghoul smiled down at them, his hands busy straightening his frayed suit.

  'Crowds gather to greet our wonderful Queen, ninety-seven,' he said before moving aside and bowing low.

  The ghoul Queen stepped forward from behind him. By Trev's estimation she was smaller than average but she carried herself in a much more upright posture than her subjects, who tended to hunch over. Her skin was pale, almost white, and was sagging slightly around the joints. One eye had been overwhelmed by a milky cataract, although its companion was bright and alert.

  She was wearing a dress that, like everything in Murkhome, was more than the sum of its parts. There even looked to be a few pieces of real silk in the patchwork. On her head was a small crown made of yet more scrounged shiny objects.

  Grubie took her hand and helped her descend the stairs. All the way down her one functioning eye remained locked on an increasingly unnerved Trev, who had begun to wonder if anyone would be upset with him if he just turned and ran away. The other ghouls were ugly, noisy little buggers but at least they didn't have the aura of calculating menace that hung around their Queen. She was staring at Trev in a way that suggested she'd like to take him apart to see how he worked. She was sinister.

  When she reached the foot of the stairs, Granddad removed his hard-hat and emulated Grubie's low bow. Trev, remembering his instruction to follow Granddad's lead, hastily emulated the emulation.

  'Grandfather-of-one Bernard Simms, seventy-eight,' the ghoul Queen said, her voice soft but not frail.

  'Mother of… many Queen Philliti, ninety-seven,' replied Granddad, straightening up from his bow with an audible creak from his back. He indicated Trev. 'Introducing my grandson and eligible bachelor Trevor Irwin, thirty.'

  The Queen's unblinking eye fixed itself on Trev again. Not sure whether to speak or not, he settled for bowing again on the grounds that it put him in something pretty close to a sprinter's starting position.

  'Brave Custodians in surprise visit to Murkhome,' she said thoughtfully. 'Grandfather-of-one Bernard Simms representing the bustling Midlands town of Brackenford, and his hunky grandson Trevor representing…?'

  'I'm not a, um, brave Custodian,' said Trev, trying his best estate agent's smile. It always worked a treat on the old dears. Well, those that were human, anyway. Queen Philliti remained noticeably uncharmed. 'I'm just, ah, generously giving up my time to help.'

  The Queen's gaze remained on Trev for just the right amount of time to cause him maximum discomfort before returning to Granddad. The old man's expression was one of ill-disguised concern. Evidently something had been said which worried him, although Trev was at a loss as to what it might be. He swallowed hard.

  'Explanation sought for Custodian's unexpected trip to peaceful city of Murkhome,' said the ghoul Queen.

  'Under the terms of the well-respected Treaty of Dudley we've come to ask the kind-hearted ghouls for help,' said Granddad. The Queen inclined her head and gestured for him to continue. 'Concerning the attempted assassination horror in Brackenford yesterday.'

  The Queen nodded. 'Charitable tycoon Alastair Kolley suffers terrifying ordeal,' she said.

  'Praise pours in for well-informed Queen Philliti,' said Granddad appreciatively. 'The evil would-be killer was a member of Brackenford's overstretched sewage maintenance department. He was last seen setting out for the sewers, where it is hoped the vigilant ghouls would have spotted him.'

  Queen Philliti turned to Grubie, who all but prostrated himself under her stare. 'Monarch seeks answers from hardworking tunnel patro
ls,' she said. Grubie nodded and scampered out of the front door.

  'Custodian expresses gratitude,' said Granddad, executing another back-cracking bow.

  Grubie wasn't gone long, returning within a few minutes accompanied by a ghoul clad in a moth-eaten blue jumper. Both genuflected before their Queen. All the bobbing up and down was beginning to make Trev feel seasick.

  'Tunnel guard Punghie to help Custodians with their inquiries,' announced Grubie. The newcomer had obviously been briefed on what was required. The creature faced Granddad and began to speak.

  'Spotted – human sewer worker checking tunnels, Wednesday,' said Punghie. 'Tunnel patrols unconcerned. But then, vampire in shock sewer sighting!'

  'Vampire?' echoed Trev, frowning at Granddad.

  'Flame-haired vampire invades tunnels!' continued the excitable Punghie. 'Sewer worker hypnotised, ghouls alarmed!'

  'Flame-haired…' muttered Granddad. The ghoul's description appeared to have struck a chord with him. He addressed Punghie. 'Custodian appeals for help finding flame-haired vampire.'

  Punghie shrugged. 'Vampire and human seen leaving sewers. Ghouls unable to follow into the sunlight, but vehicle heard driving away.'

  Granddad grimaced. 'Corbyn,' he muttered.

  'Who?' asked Trev.

  'Corbyn,' repeated Granddad. 'He's the only red-haired vampire I know of in this area.' He sighed. 'He's also one of the most dangerous vampires in this area.'

  'Oh good,' replied Trev. 'I was just thinking that we don't have enough dangerous enemies.'

  Granddad snorted. 'Yes, me too. Still, we're going to have to find him. It looks like it was him that took poor Mr. Harvington to the demon.' He turned back to face the ghouls and bowed again. 'Custodians grateful for warm Murkhome hospitality and news of sewer vampire shocker. Vampire manhunt called for.'

  Granddad gave Trev a meaningful look. Trev hastily executed a bow of his own and followed the old boy as he headed for the door.

  Behind them Queen Philliti made a small gesture with her left hand. The two guardsmen snapped to attention and crossed their spears in front of the door, blocking it. Granddad turned back to the ghoul Queen with an expression that was one part puzzled to four parts worried.

  'Treaty violation scandal,' she said, showing her teeth in one of the scariest smiles Trev had ever seen. 'Non-Custodian arrested for trespassing.'

  'What's she on about?' asked Trev, talking out of the side of his mouth in an attempt at a conspiratorial whisper.

  'This is my fault,' said Granddad, shaking his head. 'The Treaty guarantees safe passage and aid to the Custodians, but it seems Queen Philliti has decided she's not going to honour that for you, because you aren't a Custodian.'

  'Bloody hell, you've dropped me right in it,' replied Trev, his voice rising. Again his hand strayed to his breast pocket, but this time Granddad didn't admonish him for it. 'What happens now?'

  'I'll try talking to them,' said Granddad. He cleared his throat. 'Ruling appealed. Arrested man under Custodian's protection.'

  Queen Philliti regarded him balefully. 'Ghouls announce zero-tolerance policing policy.'

  'Bugger,' said Granddad.

  Trev took a deep breath. If Granddad was swearing, things had to be serious. 'What the hell do they want me for anyway?' he asked in a panicky whisper. Two more guards had descended the stairs and were advancing on him.

  'Extortion, I imagine,' replied Granddad. 'They'll hold you hostage until I bring them whatever it is they want. Shiny trinkets of some sort, probably. Looks like the Queen is serious, so we'll have to play along with it for now.' He patted Trev on the arm. 'Don't worry, I won't leave you with them for long. A day or two at most.'

  'Bollocks to that,' snapped Trev. He drew the dagger from his pocket and unsheathed it. He concentrated and the phantom blue blade crackled into life. 'I am leaving.'

  Upon seeing the vapour weapon the advancing guards stopped in their tracks and looked at each other uncertainly. Trev waved the dagger in their direction and they both took a step back.

  'Trevor, you're making things worse,' said an agitated Granddad. 'You can't fight your way past all of them.'

  'Maybe not, but no way am I staying here. I've got work tomorrow, for God's sake. What am I supposed to tell my boss? "Sorry, I can't come in today because I'm being held hostage by a bunch of sewer-dwelling troglodytes, thanks to my Granddad not being able to read a Treaty properly"?' Trev began moving toward the door, trying to keep all four guards in view. Grubie and Punghie had retreated to the foot of the stairs. In fact the only ghoul who hadn't backed off at the sight of the weapon was Queen Philliti. She stood her ground and stared at Trev with disdain.

  'Queen calls for violent criminal's arrest,' she hissed.

  The guards began to advance again, albeit reluctantly. It wasn't encouraging that they were more scared of their Queen than they were of a spooky blue dagger, but that only strengthened Trev's determination not to be left in her friendly, smiling clutches.

  Granddad opened his mouth a couple of times without saying anything. Diplomacy had failed him and he was having what Trev would later describe as "a Neville Chamberlain moment".

  The nearest guard levelled his spear at Trev, who quickly switched the dagger from one hand to the other and back again. The ghoul's eyes tried to follow the movement of the weapon, the uncertainty on his face deepening. Uncertainty changed to eye-bulging shock when Trev flicked the blade out and chopped the end off the spear. It clattered to the floor, the severed end smoking faintly. There was a moment's pause, and then everything went a bit bonkers.

  The guard with the broken spear swung the butt end of his weapon at Trev's head, but two quick strikes from the fizzing blue dagger left him holding about six inches of smouldering metal. Before he could do anything else Trev punched him in the face and he dropped to the floor, his armour rattling off in all directions.

  The second ghoul attacked more cautiously than his predecessor, making a few half-hearted prods with his spear without over-reaching himself. Trev was happy to stay out of range as he circled back toward the door, which was still being guarded by the other two ghouls. He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, but his whole nervous system felt like it was thrumming with energy. The ghouls' movements seemed slow and predictable and the dagger sat so naturally in his hand he might have been born with it there. He knew that he had to get the guards away from the door somehow, which probably meant encouraging them to attack him. He glanced at Granddad. The old man had pressed himself against a wall and was watching events with frightened eyes.

  Trev gave him a reassuring wink and a pistol-finger gesture, then swivelled and launched himself at the spear-wielding ghoul behind him.

  The guard tried to react but Trev was inside the reach of the spear much too quickly for him. Three quick swipes with the spectral blade and the ghoul found himself missing both his spear and his knife. He stared up at Trev dumbly. Trev gave him a big smile and kicked him as hard as he could in the knackers. Actually he didn't know if ghouls had knackers, and if they did, whether they kept them between their legs. The ghoul crumpled to the ground obligingly enough, so he was able to solve that little mystery there and then.

  'Tell them to open the door,' he barked at Queen Philliti. She glowered back at him, her fists clenched. Trev thought it unlikely his name was on her Christmas card list any more. She made no move to order the guards.

  'Right-o then,' said Trev cheerfully. He turned back and charged the two ghouls at the door. They brought their weapons to bear on him but he weaved nimbly to the side. The dagger flickered, reducing both the spears to kit form. 'Out the way,' he yelled. The terrified guards complied, scampering aside and shedding pieces of their armour as they went.

  Trev tried the doors. They were locked. Sighing, he slid the dagger between them and drove it downward. The lock broke. He heaved the doors open and cocked his head in Granddad's direction.

  'Coming, you old git?' he asked.

  Twenty-Thre
e

  Granddad hesitated, but not for long. He hurried to follow Trev, aiming a last despairing bow at Queen Philliti. It was a token gesture. He knew the situation was beyond salvaging.

  'Bit late for that,' confirmed Trev. He swung the double doors closed behind them, favouring the ghoul Queen with a blown kiss as he did so. He was feeling more than a little hyper thanks to the rush of power he was getting from the vapour weapon, and it was all he could do to stop himself from trying to run up the nearest wall. He took Granddad by the arm. 'Let's go.'

  The crowd of ghouls that had followed them to the Queen's residence when they'd first arrived had dispersed, but Trev noticed that the pair of them were already attracting fresh attention. He banished the dagger's glowing blade to avoid causing any more alarm than necessary, and immediately the confident buzz pulsing through his body evaporated. Doing his best to disguise his unease, he began walking briskly up the main street with Granddad in tow.

  'You do realise you've set back human-ghoul relations in this area by about fifty years, don't you?' the old man grumbled.

  'It's not my fault the ghouls actually read the Treaty they signed and knew the loopholes,' Trev shot back. 'If you'd done the same, you wouldn't have brought me down here in the first place.'

  'Yes, it's my fault and I apologise,' said Granddad with a pained expression. 'There's such a thing as making the best of a bad job, though.'

  'What, you mean I should've stayed down here as a hostage?' Trev shook his head. 'Not a chance.' He looked over his shoulder. 'Do you think the Bride of Gollum is just going to let us leave?'

  His question was answered in dramatic fashion when the doors of the palace crashed open and a squad of a dozen or so ghoul soldiers poured out. Fingers were pointed in the humans' direction and there was a lot of shouting. Immediately Murkhome's civilians began making themselves scarce. They knew trouble was in the offing and didn't want any part of it.

  The lead soldier appeared to be particularly angry and Trev noticed that he was limping. This suggested that he was the one who'd taken Trev's size nine Wellington boot square in the conkers. From the way he was gesticulating, it looked like he was enthusiastic about returning the favour.