by Helen Harper
‘Lucy’s short for Lucifer.’ I had no idea why I told her that. Now I sounded like a lunatic.
To my surprise, Alora nodded. ‘Covering all gender bases, were you?’
‘Uh, yeah.’
‘We’ve not studied the shadow beasts much,’ she said, ‘but our understanding is that they emit electrical impulses from time to time. That may have started your car radio working. Obviously, as they are magical creatures, the shadow beasts’ energy is different to what you might expect. If someone could harness that energy…’ She shrugged. ‘It’s unlikely because essentially they are wild animals.’
Wow. I used to pride myself on being on a fount of knowledge but when it came to this magical new-world stuff, I was always going to be on the back foot. ‘That’s useful to know,’ I told her. I meant it.
‘Yes, yes.’ Alora glanced at the other two bogles by her side. Some unspoken agreement seemed to pass between them before James, the supposed tattie bogle, spoke up.
‘We saw the pigeons too, although we did not note that they were carrying messages. They did not fly directly overhead and, while we recognised their flight path was unusual, we were not in a position to investigate further. If we had known what they were, be assured that we would have done so.’
I inclined my head. ‘I understand. We were all taken unawares. With any luck, Fabian Barrett – if indeed it was him who did this – will send out more. Or he will come up with a better plan to communicate with us.’
‘I have heard of this Fabian person,’ Alora sniffed. ‘Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.’
‘I think he’s English,’ Anna said.
‘You know what I mean.’ Alora frowned.
I met her eyes. ‘We all have supply problems. We’re all dealing with the threat of severe food and medicine shortages. We could do with a benevolent billionaire on our side.’
‘Maybe,’ she returned, holding my gaze, ‘we need to be more self-sufficient.’
Easier said than done. ‘There’s no shame in accepting help,’ I told her.
‘Mmm.’ She sniffed. ‘If he does enter Manchester, we do not wish to get involved. Do not tell him about us.’
‘We won’t.’
Her gaze hardened. ‘I mean it.’
I held up my hands. ‘I didn’t tell anyone about you last time, even though you thought I did. I’ll make sure word gets around and your community is not mentioned.’ I shrugged. ‘It might all come to nought.’
The bogle’s expression was dark. ‘We shall see,’ she said enigmatically. Then she whirled away with her two bodyguards in her wake. Our audience was over.
Chapter Eight
Our conversation with Alora might have been short, and she had played her cards close to her chest about both the pigeons and Fabian Barrett, but her desire to keep the bogles separate and secret made Anna and I decide that it was prudent to leave as quickly as possible. The more respect we showed the bogles, the more likely they would be to deal with us openly in the future.
As we cycled away, Anna asked, ‘Do you think she’s right? About being more self-sufficient, I mean?’
I shrugged. ‘In the long term, yes. But we’re not farmers. The werewolves might have come from rural locations but they aren’t used to growing their own crops. We’re doing our best and we’ve done well with cabbages and carrots. The potatoes are looking good and the soft fruits will be a godsend. Unfortunately, even with those crops, the privations will continue for some time before we can guarantee that people won’t go hungry. Yes, we’re learning but…’ I sighed.
‘But what?’
I avoided looking at her. I’d discussed this with Monroe but I’d not mentioned it to anyone else. ‘I’ve been doing some research,’ I said. ‘And some calculations. If we have good weather for the next four years, and our skills and work increase proportionally, by year five we’ll be growing enough to have a full calorie diet.’ I hesitated. ‘But those calculations don’t include magical monsters tearing through our crops or stealing the food we’ve stored.’ I gripped the handlebars more tightly. ‘We’re in a city. There are parks and allotments and gardens but it would be far easier if we had genuine farmland, not to mention some working farm machinery.’
‘You think people will start to leave before we hit that five-year mark,’ Anna guessed.
My answer was quiet. ‘I know they will. They might not want to but, when they get hungry enough, they’ll open that one door leading out of Manchester and then they won’t be able to return. Our population will dwindle, which will make it harder to maintain our crops. Then more people will make the difficult decision to leave.’ My stomach tightened at the thought. ‘Everyone here wants to make our community succeed. Everyone who is here wants to be here. But real hunger will force people out. They won’t have any choice. You can’t eat magic.’
Anna was silent for a moment. ‘For all we know,’ she said finally, ‘anyone who leaves the city will be quarantined by the government for the rest of their natural lives.’
‘Maybe,’ I agreed. ‘But their bellies will be full. If only someone had caught one of those damned pigeons, we might be in a better position. Now we have to count on Fabian Barrett, or whoever else is out there, to try and communicate with us again instead of giving up.’
‘Monroe and the other wolves might still find the hell hound and get the message from its full belly.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘but we can’t send any messages back.’ I exhaled heavily. We’d done all we could for now. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Let’s go and visit Nimue while we’re here. We can keep her happy for another couple of weeks by listening to her moans. She can regale us with her complaints about her lack of decent food.’
Anna flashed me a grin. ‘There’s nothing like a grumpy mermaid to cap off a depressing day.’
Nimue was still living in Boggart Hole, the little lake on the outskirts of the bogles’ territory. Monroe and I had transported her there after her shenanigans at the reservoir kept turning our water into blood.
As far as I knew, Nimue was the only mermaid we had; while I was grateful for that, it also meant that she was often lonely. Still, I kept my promise to her and visited her regularly to keep her company and give her a chance to let off steam. She was vicious, bloodthirsty and incredibly whiny but I was starting to like her – not that I’d admit that out loud.
On the off-chance that she was in a particularly bad mood and decided to drag one of us in to join her in the watery depths, we approached the edge of Boggart Hole cautiously. Everything seemed quiet. When I’d first come here with Nimue, there’d been ducks happily quacking away on the lake’s surface. Unsurprisingly, Nimue had scared them all off; either that, or she’d eaten them all. Whatever the reason for the birds’ absence, the lake shimmered in the late afternoon sun and the surface was as smooth as a wicked stepmother’s mirror.
‘Hey Nimue!’ I called out cheerfully.
Nothing happened.
Anna toed the edge of the water. ‘Nimue?’
From the far corner of the lake, I spotted the faintest undulation as the water rippled. I motioned towards it and Anna nodded. We both stepped back just in time. A moment later, Nimue’s hand snapped out a metre in front of us, her fingers curled in a claw-like fashion as she attempted to swipe us.
‘Hey!’ I protested. ‘There’s no need for that!’
Her blonde head appeared, breaking the surface, and she squinted. ‘Oh,’ she said, disappointed. ‘It’s just you. You’re not due here for another three days.’
‘We were in the area and thought we’d pop round. We can leave again if we’re disturbing you.’
Nimue sighed heavily, as if we were indeed interrupting her busy day. ‘You’re here now,’ she huffed. ‘You may as well stay.’
‘With a welcome like that,’ Anna remarked, ‘it’s a wonder you don’t come here more often, Charley.’
Nimue glared at her. ‘I know what sarcasm is,’ she snapped. ‘Watch it, if you want to leave here with all your l
imbs intact.’ She burped loudly. ‘It’s just as well I’ve already eaten today.’ She gave us a sideways look from under her eyelashes and I knew that, despite her antagonistic words, she desperately wanted us to stay.
‘How are you keeping?’ I asked.
‘Fine.’
Uh oh. If Nimue said she was fine then I reckoned things had to be disastrous. ‘What’s wrong?’
She pressed her lips together and looked away. ‘See for yourself.’ She somersaulted in the water, flicking her silvery tail upwards for a fleeting second. At first I couldn’t see anything then I realised that something was caught on her fin. The scales around it were rubbed raw.
I leaned in and peered more closely. ‘What is that?’
‘A plastic bag,’ Anna said.
Nimue’s head re-emerged. ‘It’s sore,’ she complained. ‘I can’t reach down far enough to get it off.’
‘Don’t worry.’ I carefully laid down my backpack and waded into the water. ‘I’ll get it for you.’ I wagged a finger at her. ‘No funny business, though.’
Nimue nodded, her mouth drooping at the sides. Too late, I registered the faint twitch of her eyebrow then she grabbed me and yanked me under. I just had time to hear Anna yell in alarm before I swallowed a mouthful of water.
I came up again, spluttering, and hastily pushed myself back to the safety of dry land. Nimue appeared to be doing a little dance; her arms were raised in the air and her breasts jiggling around. ‘I did it! I did it, right?’
I rolled my eyes and shook off the worst of the water. ‘Yeah, yeah, you did it.’ I grinned suddenly. ‘Well done.’
Anna, who was still pale-faced, stared at me. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘What’s going on?’
I squeezed out the droplets from my hair. ‘I’ve been teaching Nimue how to play poker,’ I explained. ‘We’ve been working on her bluffing technique.’
‘Oh.’ She nodded slowly then she leaned closer. ‘You’re teaching a creature who already has a penchant for luring people into their depths how to lie more appropriately? Is that wise?’
Now that she came to mention it… ‘Nimue has been very well-behaved,’ I said in my defence.
The mermaid smiled serenely. ‘I haven’t killed anyone for at least a week. Promise.’ This time her eyebrow twitch was far more pronounced. Yeah, yeah. She gave me a pointed look and abandoned her tall tales for the time being. ‘Come on, then. Get the cards out.’
‘Sorry. I wasn’t planning on visiting today so I’ve not brought them.’
Her smile vanished. ‘Then what’s in your bag?’ she asked.
Oh. I bit my lip and picked it up, unzipping it just enough so that she could see Lucy. ‘This is Lucy. Or Lucifer. Whichever you prefer.’
Nimue threw herself backwards, baring her sharp teeth and hissing in alarm. ‘Monster.’
‘Pot. Kettle,’ Anna murmured.
‘Baby monster,’ I amended. ‘She won’t hurt you.’
Lucy poked her head further out and gazed at Nimue, blinking lazily before yawning and snuggling down into the bag again.
Nimue folded her arms. ‘I thought I was your monster.’
‘And you’re still my monster,’ I soothed. ‘Nothing’s changed.’
She held out her arms. ‘Let me hold it.’
Somehow I didn’t think that was a good idea. ‘Perhaps another time.’
‘You don’t trust me.’
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘I don’t.’
The mermaid glared then a strange expression crossed her face. She pulled her arms into her chest, touching the centre of it before moving her hands up to her throat. She coughed, delicately at first, but it wasn’t long before she started to wheeze and choke.
Anna looked at me. ‘Is this another trick?’
Judging from the vibrant shade of puce of Nimue’s cheeks, I doubted it. I lunged forward, grabbing her from behind. If the Heimlich Manoeuvre worked on humans, surely it could work on mermaids too. I clasped my hands round her waist and pressed in with my thumbs, jerking her upwards. Once. Twice. On the third attempt, something small and red flew out of Nimue’s mouth and I released her. She fell forward, coughing and spluttering.
‘You tried to kill me, you blue-haired bitch,’ she croaked. She threw her arm out and splashed me with water.
I moved away and hauled myself to the lake’s edge. ‘I saved you,’ I said matter-of-factly. ‘You were choking.’
Nimue raised her head, her pupils tiny pinpricks of black. ‘Mermaids don’t choke.’
I shrugged. ‘You did.’
‘Charley.’ Anna’s voice was strained.
I glanced over. She was bending over and staring at something on the ground. I joined her and looked down.
‘Nimue,’ I began, ‘did you by any chance eat any pigeons today?’
‘No.’ She glowered at me. ‘What’s a pigeon?’
I did my best to keep my tone even. ‘A grey bird.’ I motioned with my hands. ‘About this size.’
‘Oh.’ Nimue’s bottom lip jutted out. ‘I might have. You didn’t tell me it was forbidden.’
‘It’s not.’ I continued to gaze at the small object which had flown from the mermaid’s mouth. ‘Maybe next time you should check for foreign objects before swallowing, though.’
‘Huh?’
I shook my head. ‘Never mind.’ I reached down, picked up the little red canister between my thumb and forefinger and walked to the water’s edge to rinse it off. Anna and Nimue watched my every move.
‘Whatever’s inside here,’ I said, ‘remember we can’t reply to it because we don’t have any pigeons to take a message back.’
My words didn’t prevent Anna’s eyes from shining. Nimue, however, looked annoyed. ‘That’s mine,’ she said. ‘I ate it therefore it belongs to me.’
‘Technically you spat it out,’ I told her. ‘Besides, it’s not edible.’ I unscrewed the lid and peered inside at the little rolled-up piece of paper. Without breathing, I drew it out and opened it up.
Anna bit her lip. ‘What does it say?’ she whispered.
Slowly, I read out the words. ‘Do not fear. Help is at hand. 6pm 17 8 I will enter your city for rescue.’ I looked up. ‘F. B.’
‘Fabian Barrett.’ A smile broke out across Anna’s face. ‘17 8. That’s…’
‘The seventeenth of August,’ I said. ‘Today.’ I flicked my eyes upwards. Judging from the sun’s progress across the sky, it was already half past four. Ninety minutes. In ninety minutes’ time, we’d no longer be on our own. ‘The door,’ I breathed. ‘We have to get to the door.’
Anna’s eyes met mine. ‘We have to warn the others too. His intentions might not be entirely benign. He probably thinks we’re all contaminated, remember?’
We were all contaminated. In a good way, of course, but still… I clenched my teeth. Anna was thinking logically. We had to ensure our safety before we jumped to conclusions about why Barrett was really entering Manchester.
‘Get back as fast as you can,’ I ordered. ‘Tell Julian. He’ll be able to get hold of Monroe and the others. I’ll go to the door and see exactly what Fabian Barrett’s plans are. I won’t take him to where we live until I know he’s not going to cause problems.’
‘Or to the Travotel.’ Anna’s voice was quiet but insistent. ‘Don’t take him there. In fact, don’t even tell him about us. Not until we know what his intentions are.’
That was a sensible plan; it was a good idea to play our cards close to our chest until we knew more. ‘I won’t.’ I ran a hand through my hair. ‘This could be the best thing that’s happened since the apocalypse.’ Or the worst.
‘What’s your gambler’s gut telling you?’
I could only be honest. ‘It doesn’t have a clue.’ I stuffed the message into my pocket and grabbed the backpack. Lucy let out a small squeak from inside. ‘There’s no guide book or instruction manual for what’s about to happen.’ I swung the bag onto my shoulders and ran to the bike.
‘Hey!’ Nimue shouted. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Sorry!’ I yelled. ‘This is an emergency. I’ll come back another day!’
‘But you only just got here.’ I was already cycling away. So was Anna. It didn’t stop Nimue. ‘I almost died a minute ago! Come back!’
‘Bye, Nimue!’ I pedalled faster, weaving out of the trees and onto the pockmarked road. If I were lucky and the route was clear, I’d make it just in time.
Chapter Nine
When the walls around Manchester were initially erected and we created our own sneaky back door to use if we desperately needed to, one of the smaller packs of werewolves was posted to guard it. At that point we didn’t know if the Army would try to use the door themselves to come inside and see what was going on, or if the government would allow the door to remain. After all, they had evacuated the entire city and boomed out dire warnings that the newly established borders around Manchester would be closed for good.
I imagined, however, that people on the outside would demand that we still be allowed an escape route. Politicians will cave in to just about anything – other than reducing their own pay packets – if it makes them appear that they’re obeying the will of the people.
As far as I knew, no other country in the world had a magical city like Manchester. The eyes of the world were on the British government. I rather liked the idea of blue-hatted UN officials hanging around on the other side of the wall and sipping tea in case anyone decided they wanted to come out. It was all speculation, of course; I had no way of really knowing what was happening outside the city. But guesswork went a long way. I’d built my secondary career as a professional gambler on it.
After a month or two, the werewolves on our side were bored silly because no one was leaving and no one was entering; not a thing happened near the new wall and guarding the door was a fruitless, time-consuming task. We had more important things to worry about than a damned door. The guard post was abandoned and, as far as I was aware, few people inside Manchester gave the door another thought.
