by P M Cole
I stood stunned, trying to understand what I was being told. “Why… does Cephas Finlay want me so?”
She briefly looked away, shaking her head. “The human you refer to is not truly known by that name. For he was once a king. A man of tricks and games, who by his own misfortune was cursed for eternity…” She looked past me as if looking for more answers. “I do not know how he took a man’s form, but know this… You are not the only human that walks the earth with godly powers. Seven were born, each with the power of a different god. To do this takes great power. Only one who is a god themselves could bring forth such power unto the earth.” She looked down and placed her other hand to her temple. “I cannot see who did this for they are shrouded in shadow, but be warned they walk on earth as well, and I fear their plan has only just begun…”
I was speechless. “I…”
She smiled at me once again. “You were given a good heart by your parents, child. Use that as your guide. Learn of your godly heritage and how you might resist the darkness. Find others who will help you in your endeavour for, alone, your path will be impossible.” She then frowned. “Tell the one that summoned me here, this will be the last time he will call upon me.”
I nodded.
She then let go of my hand and I was standing looking at Lucas, and he at me. His eyes had returned to their human versions. Sweat poured from his face.
“Did it work?” he said.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Lucas slurped from a large bowl of Olivia’s broth.
I wondered if he would ever stop eating.
“Great taste this, Miss Olivia.”
She smiled. “I’m happy you are finding it to your pleasure.”
He dabbed a piece of bread in it. “So, you actually saw her, then?” he said to me.
I nodded.
“I bet she was a looker, right?”
I smiled. “She was very beautiful.”
“I knew it! Shame she had my mind—” he pointed to his head. “— Imprisoned in a cell. Nicer than my old one though. And she said not to summon her again? Did you get a sense of any room for negotiation?”
The fire momentarily roared before I could reply.
He looked at it. “I guess that’s a no then.”
“This is not a game, Lucas,” said Bernard.
“I think you know more than most, old friend, that I know that.” Lucas sighed. “So my investigations twenty years ago were correct, there was an ancient power on the rise in London. And that person, man or woman, now walks among us. That is not so good.” He waved his hand. “This key branding you have been talking about, this must represent this power in…” His hand froze above the bowl, his eyes wide. “No… it couldn’t be him. Why would he even be here…”
“Who, Lucas?” said Bernard.
“The god of the underworld…”
“Hades?” said Bernard.
Olivia drew the sign of the cross across her chest.
Lucas put the bowl down and leaned towards us. He pointed to his hand. “The key symbol! It’s the sign of Hades.”
“I thought the old gods stayed away from this realm?” said Bernard.
“By an’ large they do, although I’ve heard stories that some got stuck here.”
“Could that have happened to Hades?”
I listened intently to what the two old friends were discussing, but it all felt unreal, despite what I had just witnessed and had been told.
“What about the six others?” I said, breaking into their conversation.
“Hmm… yes, I had forgot that little detail,” said Lucas.
“Could they also be in London?” said Bernard.
“I could do an enchantment, with Cog’s help, of course. I might be able to locate them, but I will need some materials that are at the manor.” He picked his bowl back up, starting to eat again. “I have to return there tomorrow anyway.”
A wave of fatigue moved through me. “I think I’ll return home.”
“Oh, you really think it’s a good idea to be alone right now?” said Bernard.
“I’ll be fine. Nobody knows of my home.”
Lucas smiled then winked at me. “She can take care of herself.”
I hoped he was right.
*****
A knock came at the front door of the shop above, waking me from a deep sleep.
I lifted my head, waiting for the door to open and the familiar sound of Mr Gladwell’s boots moving across the boards above my head, but instead, the knock repeated, this time heavier.
I looked at the clock opposite. 8 a.m.
I had been asleep longer than I intended. Lucas and Colin would be here soon.
I got up and crept up the steps into the gloom of the upstairs, and slowly lifted the curtain to let me better see the shop door. Mrs Ballingsworth was standing in the entrance recess.
Behind her, the fog was laid thick, not even allowing sight beyond the edge of the pavement, but that didn’t prevent the usual sea of people walking along behind her.
She hit the wood of the frame again, anxiously looking about her. I dropped the sheet waiting for her to leave, but again she knocked on the door. I ran downstairs, grabbed a scarf which I wrapped around my face, then rushed back up and to the door, where I unlatched and pulled it open.
“Oh, thank goodness.” She looked behind her again. “I think you know me. I’m Mrs—”
“From the Inn. I know.”
“Can I come in, just for a moment? It’s important.”
“OK…” I stepped back and she walked inside, closing the door behind her. That’s when I noticed the folded-up piece of paper in her hand.
“I… we do not know each other. But I know Mr Gladwell to be an honourable man, and if he thinks you’re a good one, then that’s enough for me.”
I was perplexed as to her reason to be standing in front of me. I nodded.
She unfolded the piece of paper. “Mr Ballingsworth found this on his way back from work last evening, on the Euston Road. He said they were everywhere…”
She handed the printed sheet to me, and my hand went to my mouth as I read the headline.
‘Have you seen this young lady? She is suspected to have been involved in a robbery of the residence of Daria Thorton on the twelfth of—’
I quickly read through the rest until I got to the award of six Guineas, a month’s salary for some, and finally the image of the girl supposedly involved. I had to admit it was a good likeness. The poster finished by saying that anyone who had seen this girl should report her whereabouts to Inspector Wallis of Scotland Yard, Westminster.
“I know you must not have been involved with sordid business, but what with the drawing looking like you, I thought you should know…”
I smiled. “I will contact the inspector so he can rule me out of his investigations. Do you mind if I keep this?”
“Oh, yes of course! Please do.” She stood and looked around the shop, smiling at the clocks and glass cases of pocket watches and smaller clocks.
“Is there anything else?” Despite her act of kindness I needed to be alone.
“I’ll be leaving you to it, then. Mr Ballingsworth doesn’t like me to dilly-dally!”
She moved back out into the wall of mist and I closed and locked the door.
I shook my head as I retreated to the basement. My brief moment of contentment was crushed by the fact that the whole of London was now looking for me. I looked around my basement home and, for the first time in six years, the walls felt like a cage.
‘Godly power…’ I thought, repeating what Athena had said to me.
Since I had returned the previous night, her words had kept playing around my head, like the cylinder in a music box. The idea sounded absurd at the time and still did, despite having heard it from supposedly a god herself.
Regardless of my ‘potential’, I had to deal with the very real threat of Finlay and his cohorts. I walked to my suit, lifting the arm. I wondered if it would fit below my dr
ess.
A short while later, I turned and twirled in front of my mirror. To the unaware, a gust of wind may reveal what would look like high boots underneath, but there was no harm in that.
After making myself some breakfast, a knock came at the wooden partition. I pulled the weight and it opened, revealing Colin’s face. “Hello, Goddess…”
“Ah!… be quiet. I am no such thing.”
He smiled the cheeky smile of his and I hid my response.
“Yeah, about that…” said Lucas out of my sight.
I stepped through the gap in the wall and closed the covering. “About what?”
“Knowing what I do of the gods, I don’t think you have the powers of a goddess, more a god…”
“Oh…” said Colin.
“But I need to study the literature at my home to be sure.”
“Whereabouts is your residence?” I said.
“To the west. Mr Murphy tells me we can take the tunnels to Bernard’s, then carriage—”
“I cannot travel by carriage…”
Lucas momentarily looked fazed, but that quickly became a smile. “Then we shall find another way.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The waterman pulled and pushed his oar to the sound of a silent drum, and the boat and crew Bernard had hired to take us up the river, glided across calm water.
Colin had spent most of the journey from the dock near Pimlico to our current location of Kingston upon Thames lurched over the side, which I found most amusing, much to his displeasure. I was thankful for the light relief as the fog hung to the water barring any view of the banks. It was as if we were on an endless sea.
“Give it a few more weeks and the river’s gonna be all frozen up,” said the waterman who was the captain of our small vessel. “Ain’t no passage gonna be possible then, sir.” He looked at Bernard, who nodded in reply.
“How much further,” groaned Colin.
“I think we are just about there,” said Lucas as the captain steered us left towards the bank which none of us could see.
A mound of mud and pebbles appeared, which the boat gently moved to a stop on. Just visible beyond, at the edge of the fog was a bank of trees, which a small path cut through.
Bernard pressed a coin into the waterman’s hand. “Make sure to be here no later than the middle of the afternoon. We need to be back before dark.”
The waterman nodded and we disembarked, although not before at least three of the men offered their hand to help me to the shore. I ignored them all and jumped up to my knees into the icy cold water. The leather and small pieces of metal of my boots squeaked upon walking on the riverbank and I regretted not making the suit waterproof. One more adjustment that would be needed.
“This way,” said Lucas, charging up the slope and into the trees, which appeared to cut off most of what little light there was from above. The man that strode forward was hardly recognisable from the person that emerged from the cell a few days before, for now, he wore clothes more befitting a gentleman.
The forest seemed old and creaked as if considering the four individuals walking through it. Fortunately, we made it through to a field before judgement and that’s when I saw what I had been told was ‘Wraith Hall’. It had the appearance of three buildings constrained to one structure, with two wings and a central block which was set back somewhat against the rest. As we walked towards it, I realised the fog was keeping its distance allowing me to see most of the building, including the arched roofs. I wondered how old it was, asking Lucas.
“Some parts date to the twelfth century, but most of it was built around the time of Elizabeth the first. My father updated some of it…”
We arrived at the front stone carved entrance, with two demonic-looking statues overlooking us on both sides. He laid his hand on one of them.
“But I chose to leave the old ghosts alone.”
I then saw him look up at the impressive building and visibly swallow and voice silent words. Gathering his strength, Bernard passed him a set of keys, one of which he slid into the large keyhole and turned.
The door swung back, and a small gust of wind escaped. I followed them forwards into a hall with a ceiling two stories high. A grand staircase rested in the centre of the room, with corridors either side and large entrances closer to us. Across the tiled floor sat a rug covered in a thin blanket of dust dulling its patterns. On two of the walls and at the top of the first landing were paintings as big as those at the bank, but these subjects seemed happier, being a young woman and child in one, and a noble-looking man in another.
Lucas looked around at his former home. “It’s just how I remember it. It’s good to know some things never change.” He walked to one of the double doors, twisting the ornate knob and pulled the doors open. “We will need fresh logs,” he said, disappearing into the room beyond.
“I’ll go see what I can find in the forest,” said Colin.
I walked closer to the painting of the woman. Cobwebs hung from its frame. A small brass plaque mentioned ’Elenor and Thomas Wraith’.
“Lucas’s family…” said Bernard.
Lucas appeared from the room. In his hand was a lit torch. He walked straight past us heading towards an arched door beneath the stairs. “Follow me.”
Using another of the keys, he opened the door and we descended a stone spiral staircase into the bowels beneath the old building, brushing the cobwebs from our path. At the bottom, we arrived at a small hallway, which ended at another arched door.
“Where’s the lock?” I asked, not seeing any.
Seemingly not hearing my question, Lucas placed a firm hand on the stone frame, and pushed, causing a segment to rotate.
“I see… interesting…” I said.
He placed a key into the revealed lock and turned. A whirring of cogs and weights dropping came from behind the walls, and before the noise had finished its function, he had turned the handle and pushed the door open.
Just inside, he leaned the torch forward and turned a dial on the closest gas lamp, setting off a chain of ignitions, lighting lamps around a space almost as large as the hallway above us.
Lucas smiled. “Hmm… good to see that still works.”
I walked forward, staggered by a marvel of bookshelves and scientific instruments, all surrounding a grand fireplace at the back of the room, which burst into life.
Lucas walked to it, picked up a poker and prodded its contents.
I walked to his side. “How can this even light after all this time?”
“A combination of coal and dried wood falls into place when someone enters the room, but the gas lit flame sets it alight.”
I examined the back of the fire. “That is a clever design.”
He sighed. “Yes, she had a far greater mind for those things than I ever did.” He looked at me, the fire reflecting in his eyes. “In some ways, you remind me of her.”
“Woah, now this is more like it,” said Colin. “Do you want more logs down here?”
Lucas shook his head. “No. Those are for the upstairs.”
“OK…” Colin turned to head up the stairs.
“Are you still stricken with seasickness?” I said.
He smiled. “Better now you have asked.”
I sighed and he disappeared up the staircase.
“Your collection is even more remarkable than I remember, Lucas,” said Bernard, examining one section of the extensive shelf space.
“I hope so, it almost cost as much as the upkeep of this house when I was living here.”
Bernard pulled a few volumes from the dusty mahogany shelves and placed them on a large reading table. He then sat and started scouring their pages.
Lucas did the same.
I strolled past the brass and iron devices, my mind absorbing their design and purpose. It was like the images I had read years before in penny magazines had come alive in front of me.
“Hephaestus—”
A jolt of energy ran through me and the rest o
f Lucas’s words became lost as a warm sensation rose inside my body. I tried to grab the table in front but missed the edge and fell to my knees.
As the others ran towards me, images stormed through my mind of machines and places, some I recognised some I did not. I gripped my head with both hands, not able to withstand the cascade of ideas and concepts being laid bare before me.
“Make it stop!” I pleaded. And then, as sudden as it came, it did.
I looked up at the three men, each looking back at me with grave concern.
Colin knelt to my side. “Are you OK? Can you hear me?”
I nodded then regretted the movement due to the throbbing between my temples. I noticed Bernard and Lucas were looking at the table above me. I followed their gaze.
A circular area that was once filled with Lucas’s instruments, was now lumps of molten metal, glowing and spluttering, sending sparks into the air.
*****
“The god of fire and innovation. Of metalworking, stone masonry, forges, and sculpture,” said Lucas, holding a book in his hand.
I sat with a blanket around me in one of the high-backed chairs near the fire.
“Heph… aest… us—” he said each part slowly, watching me for any reaction.
“I’m fine, please continue.”
“— It would appear is the god you have sourced your powers from.”
“I didn’t source anything from anyone…”
“Indeed, which means someone, or something, did it on your behalf around the time of your birth. Do you have any memory of your parents being involved with the dark arts?”
“I… hardly have any memories of my parents.”
“That’s fine. We are only at the start of our investigations.”
I had already apologised profusely for the mess that I had made of Lucas’s devices, but he was surprisingly calm about the event, saying that they can all be bought again. I suggested with some time I could probably build him better versions.
