The Burning Man, page 18
part #2 of Kingdom of the Serpent Series
‘How did they get up here so quickly?’ Sophie breathed.
Head deep in an enormous chest, Mallory emerged with an extensive coil of silken cord.
‘Will that hold us?’ Sophie asked. The clawing and giggling almost drowned her out.
Mallory stamped his boot on one end and tested it. ‘Yeah. Look, you need to do that thing you do. The other end has to be attached to the nearest building.’ Sophie’s face betrayed her lack of confidence. ‘You can do it, combat honey,’ he said softly.
While Mallory secured the cord to one of the iron rings set in the floorboards, Sophie leaned out of the window and silently attempted to summon one of the bats she’d seen circling the tower earlier.
The trap-door burst open with a crash. From the dark beneath erupted what looked like six-year-olds but with grey, mortuary skin, jagged, broken talons and pale eyes like saucers. Their sharp-toothed mouths snapped hungrily.
‘Any time now would do,’ Mallory shouted. With surprising tenderness, he pulled Caitlin next to him and stood between Sophie and the dead children with Llyrwyn drawn.
Sophie forced herself not to look back, but could hear the sizzle of the flames as the sword cut the air, and the sickening sound of bone and meat cleaved, and the hysterical screams and incongruous shrill laughing, so loud she wanted to scream herself.
Concentrate, she thought. Don’t be so pathetic!
The bat was so large that at first she thought it was a bird of prey. Soon the cord was unravelling out of the window. When it was taut, she yelled to Mallory.
‘You go first!’ he replied. The unnatural children swarmed at him like rats. He hacked and thrust in a blur, piling up bloodless limbs and dismembered bodies.
‘Caitlin—?’ Sophie said.
‘I’ll carry her! Go!’
Sophie paused as she took in Mallory holding Caitlin about her waist, pressed hard against him, using his own body as a shield. Caitlin clung to him with a touching hope.
Sophie swung her legs up to grasp the cord and then shinned along it like a monkey, feeling the sucking gulf beneath her once she was out of the window, forcing herself not to look down.
Bats flapped around her head, and the cord burned her hands and feet as she gathered speed, but she clung on. Soon she was on a flat roof nearby, allowing herself to breathe as Mallory dropped from the cord next to her, bleeding from numerous wounds. Caitlin hung around his neck, her face pressed close to his.
‘Thank you,’ Caitlin said, with what sounded to Sophie like breathless adoration. Just the little girl inside her friend, Sophie told herself.
Mallory steadied himself. ‘Okay, that’s put me right off having kids.’
‘Whoever’s behind this isn’t going to let us blithely carry on trying to find out what happened,’ Sophie said.
‘We knew it was just a matter of time before they caught up with us. Let’s find that library.’
4
While Mallory bathed his wounds in one of Decebalus’s network of secret rooms at the back of the Hunter’s Moon, Sophie sat with Virginia Dare, brushing and braiding the little girl’s hair. More resilient than Sophie could have hoped, she had recovered from the worst of her ordeal, but her eyes still held a haunted look that Sophie feared would never fade.
‘When will you rescue my mother?’ Virginia asked.
‘Soon.’ Sophie averted her eyes from a network of scars peeking above the neckline of the girl’s shift.
‘Do not talk to me about that place!’ Virginia snapped, as if she could read Sophie’s mind.
‘Darling, you’re with friends now. We’re going to look after you.’
‘Nobody can look after anybody. You are always on your own.’
‘That’s not true—’
‘It is! My mother could not protect me!’
Sophie winced. ‘I know what that’s like. To feel you’ve been abandoned by people you count on. You’re lost. You’re scared. You’re afraid you can’t stand on your own. It hurts, doesn’t it? And you never forget that hurt.’
Virginia watched Sophie intently for any sign that she was lying or patronising. ‘You are not alone. You have the Knight.’
‘Mallory? Yes, I do.’ Sophie looked around to check that Decebalus was not in earshot and then whispered conspiratorially, ‘I haven’t even told Mallory this. It’s a secret, between you and me, all right?’
Virginia’s eyes grew wide. She nodded.
‘Before Mallory came along, I felt exactly like you. I couldn’t cope on my own, and I was ready to give up. I didn’t show anybody – I’m not like that. I put on a big, brave smiling face, but inside I was clinging on by my fingernails.’
Sophie could see that Virginia understood.
‘And then Mallory came along and he saved me,’ she continued. ‘Not in an “I’ve got a big sword to kill the monsters” way. Instead he made me realise there was somebody to watch my back when I wasn’t up to the fight. He showed me the truth – that none of us are superheroes who can always cope on our own, and it’s not a sign of weakness to accept that. All we need to do is find somebody we trust and put our faith in them to look after us when we stumble. And once you give up fighting on your own – once you share that burden of struggle – you’re stronger.’
Through the open door to the next room, she watched Mallory move about, wincing when one of his wounds pulled.
‘You are very lucky to have found him.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I am.’ She let her own deeper fears subside and turned back to Virginia with a reassuring smile. ‘And now I’m asking you to trust us. Can you do that?’
Virginia looked into Sophie’s eyes for a moment and then nodded, before nuzzling her head into Sophie’s neck and hugging her tightly.
5
To Ruth, the scenery had the look of a seventies summer holiday snapshot with colours that were too saturated to be real. A clear blue sky, verdant trees, sun-bleached grass and rolling, dusty, boulder-strewn hillsides. The white walls and pink-tiled roofs of the village glowed in the morning light.
It was warm and beads of sweat trickled down her brow, but her bonds prevented her from wiping them away. The tape across her mouth itched and she was sure she was developing an allergic reaction to the glue.
‘Why don’t you let her go? She won’t try to get away. I can’t believe you’ve kept her like that for a week.’ Miller became upset every time he saw Ruth, his discomfort made worse by his awareness that he was too ineffectual to do anything about it.
‘It’s not the getting away that I’m worried about.’ Veitch reached over and wiped Ruth’s damp brow with a handkerchief, not unkindly.
‘I know you say she’s some kind of witch, but I can’t believe that.’
‘This from a bloke who can cure any illness with a touch.’
‘That’s not witchcraft!’ Miller said, outraged. ‘It’s the power of God—’
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now shut up. Your whining voice really gets on my tits.’
Miller fell silent, plucking at the grass beneath his legs like a spurned schoolboy.
Pensive, Veitch leaned back against the wheel of the car and watched Ruth for a moment. ‘You know I don’t want to have you trussed up like a Tesco chicken.’
Ruth glared at him.
‘Yeah, I know. Words are cheap. But I’ve seen what you’re capable of. You’re an A-bomb just waiting to detonate, only you don’t know it. You’re getting your memory back, I know, but you still haven’t remembered how to tap into that whole witchy Craft business. Which is good for me. Not too keen on waking up a toad, or with my insides on the outside. But pretty soon even that gag and those ropes aren’t going to stop you doing what you do. Then we’ll have to make a choice—’
‘Even you wouldn’t kill her!’ Miller interjected shrilly.
‘I told you to shut up.’
‘No!’ His voice cracked with emotion. ‘I’ve had enough of this. I don’t know why you’ve got us both. I was stupid to come with you. But I trusted you! You don’t feel like a bad man—’
‘Yeah, well, you’re an idiot.’
‘Why are you so horrible? What do you want?’
Veitch gently tapped one silver finger on the well-used map as he surveyed the landscape.
‘Why have we driven halfway across Europe?’ Miller continued. ‘What are we doing in Greece? Where are we?’
Veitch sighed. ‘Village down there is Myloi. They reckon Pythagoras used to have a mansion here … walked around the streets doing his studies and everything.’ He eyed Ruth slyly, but she showed absolutely no interest in his attempt at perspicacity.
‘But why—’ Miller whined until Veitch’s cold look cut him short.
‘Time’s running out. I’m not really what you’d call patient, but that ticking clock is making me worse. So I’ll say this once: don’t piss me off, either of you. We’re here because we’re going to my favourite holiday resort.’
‘Kalamata?’ Miller ventured.
‘The Land of the Dead.’
His mouth gaping, Miller tried to read Veitch’s face, then returned to his sullen grass-plucking.
A lazy, heady peace lay over the still countryside. Ruth enjoyed the sun on her face after being bundled up in the suffocating boot all the way down into the Peloponnese, with only the occasional stop on isolated back roads where she was allowed to stretch her legs. She’d been plotting different ways to break free, but Veitch was clever and no opportunity ever arose. The longer the journey continued, the more she feared for her safety. She recalled Church describing all the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons that Veitch had brutally murdered over the years. Quite why he was taking his time over her she wasn’t sure, but sooner or later her moment would come.
He had been right about one thing: her control of the Craft was growing stronger. Her attempt to use the Craft in Oslo had drained her completely, and the iniquities and exhaustion brought on by her captivity had made it difficult to focus and concentrate. But it felt as if it was built into the architecture of her mind, and as soon as she fully understood the pattern of it she would be able to utilise it to its fullest. All she needed was time.
‘What’s that?’ Miller startled her out of her thoughts. He was on his feet, pointing into the trees down the slope towards the village.
Veitch was beside him in an instant, alert and threatening.
‘I couldn’t tell if it was a man, or an animal, or a bit of both. It was watching us. You think I’m mad, don’t you?’
‘You’re not playing with a full deck, mate, that’s for sure, but I’ve seen enough weird shit not to dismiss something like that.’ He looked round at Ruth uneasily. ‘I should stick you back in the boot while I check this out.’
‘Let her stay out longer,’ Miller pleaded. ‘She must be going insane in there all that way.’
‘I don’t trust her or you. Frankly, I don’t trust anyone.’ He looked down the dusty road. ‘When are Etain and the others coming back?’ he muttered irritably to himself before appearing to make up his mind. He grabbed another length of rope from the car and tied Ruth’s wrist bonds to the bumper. ‘That’ll hold. All right, you’re coming with me,’ he said to Miller.
He set off down the slope. Miller hesitated for a second before scuttling over to Ruth. He slipped something into her hand before smiling weakly and hurrying after Veitch. It was a Swiss Army knife.
Ruth’s muscles ached from too many hours tied up in the boot of the car, but she feverishly opened the knife and struggled to work the blade against the rope at her wrist. It was slow, and difficult, and within moments blood was flowing from numerous cuts. Anxiously, she watched Veitch and Miller clamber over rocks as they made their way down to the tree-line.
After the third time she dropped the knife, frustration set in. It always looked so easy when she saw it on film. She could tell from Veitch’s body language that he could see nothing in the trees, and soon he would be making his way back. She’d never cut the rope in time. Tears of anger burned her eyes.
But just as Veitch turned to make his way back up the slope, there was a sensation like a shadow falling across the land. Ruth had the briefest notion of the sky turning black, and then of a sapphire snake moving sinuously towards her across the ground.
Why is the Blue Fire coming to me? she thought, confused.
And then a face filled her whole vision, so close she could only get an impression of it – part animal, part human, but with blazing eyes that were filled with a disturbing madness, and a smile that suggested uncontrolled sexuality. And then she knew no more.
6
Veitch returned to the car to find Ruth gone. The blood-spattered Swiss Army knife lay in the dust next to the coil of rope from her wrists. Furiously, Veitch grabbed Miller by the collar and dragged him over to see, before cuffing him around the ears.
‘You left her that, didn’t you, you traitorous little toe-rag?’
Miller whimpered and shrank back. He was surprised when Veitch only gave him a rough shove.
‘Right. You help me find her. Up that way.’ Veitch pointed along the road in the direction they had travelled earlier. He turned in the opposite direction.
‘Wait.’ Miller picked up the coil of rope. ‘This hasn’t been cut.’
‘Stop lying. There’s no way she could have got free from those knots.’ Veitch examined the rope only to see that Miller was right. ‘All right,’ he said slowly, ‘this is fucking weird.’
7
A scarlet sun hung hot and heavy in the black sky. Ruth walked along the main street of Myloi with a sound like the sea in her ears. Next to the low, white-walled village school stood a tomb, reeking of age, and on either side a labyrinth of alleys ran off into shadows. There was a coffee shop with the steam still rising from the gleaming machines behind the counter, and a bar with a bottle of ouzo on the table nearest the door, and shops selling olives and dried meats. But there were no people anywhere.
Somnambulantly, she took in every detail without contemplating the strangeness of it all. She was there, and there was no other place she should be.
In the middle of the road stood a large bull with eyes that mirrored the sun. It snorted a blast of hot air and dragged a lazy hoof in an unthreatening manner. Ruth came to a halt before it.
‘Listen,’ the bull said, ‘can you hear the music?’
And then Ruth could, the lilting tones of a flute floating down from the hillside somewhere ahead of her.
‘And look, there is ivy and wine,’ the bull continued. The houses and shops on either side were now festooned with ivy, and nestling amongst the leaves were large stone jars of wine. Ruth could smell its heady, fruity scent.
‘The season is turning once more. New shoots of growth break through the hard ground. And you, woman, tend to them with the serpents in your wake. The season is turning within you, too, but first what is hidden must be revealed.’
Ruth found herself swallowed up by the bull’s red eyes and realised that it was not a bull at all.
8
The afternoon was already drawing on when Ruth found herself sitting in the shade of a grove of olive trees on a hillside overlooking the village. Her head rang and her throat was dry. The details of her escape from the car and encounter with the bull were already fading like a dream, but the impressions remained at the back of her head, making her queasy with the sense of mysteries and secrets.
‘Are you all right?’
The woman’s voice was rich and deep and heavily accented. Ruth squinted against the sun until a figure emerged from the glare, black hair, olive skin, a shapely figure accentuated by a tight-fitting white dress. Ruth estimated she was in her early forties.
The woman helped Ruth to her feet, carefully inspecting the raw marks on Ruth’s wrists. ‘You have been attacked?’
‘No … yes.’ Still dazed, Ruth fought to order her thoughts. ‘A man kidnapped me. I managed to get away, but he might still be around. He’s dangerous!’
Ruth tried to place herself in the landscape and estimated that somehow she was on the other side of the village from where the car had been parked.
‘We must call the police—’ the woman began.
‘No!’ Ruth had visions of spider-controlled authority figures swarming from vans. ‘Just … just take me somewhere till I can get back on my feet. Please.’
The woman nodded and took Ruth’s arm. ‘My name is Demetra. My grandmother built this place. It was the first of its kind in the Peloponnese.’
Ruth could now see a small but well-tended white farmhouse surrounded by more modern buildings. Beyond them were olive groves and fields that contained rows of what looked like cabbages. Ruth could see several women working diligently.
‘What place?’ she said.
Demetra looked puzzled. ‘A refuge. For women like yourself. Who have suffered at the hands of men.’
‘But … I didn’t come here because of that …’ Ruth caught herself. She couldn’t begin to explain why she had come there.
It was cool inside the main farmhouse. The kitchen was clean and modern with a white stone floor and pine furniture. Instead of sitting at the table, Ruth ran from window to window, searching the rolling landscape.
‘Do not worry. You are safe here,’ Demetra said in a soothing voice. She placed a coffee pot on the stove.
‘You don’t understand. He’s not like other men. He can do things …’ Ruth realised how she must sound and quietened.
‘We have very good security here. Fences and cameras. No one can get onto the site without us knowing. No men,’ she stressed.
Anxiously chewing a nail, Ruth sat at the table as she considered her options. Veitch was relentless and brutal. She could only presume he hadn’t killed her instantly because somehow she fitted into his plan, and if that was the case he would not allow her simply to walk away. But was it best to lie low there at the refuge, or to attempt to lose herself in Europe? And Veitch still had her spear. She wasn’t wholly sure what powers lay within it, but she knew it shouldn’t be in the hands of the Enemy. It was her responsibility to get it back.
