The Burning Man, page 6
part #2 of Kingdom of the Serpent Series
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
The Green Man became tense, his leaves and branches shuddering. ‘You must leave this place quickly, daughter. Danger approaches.’ He motioned towards the skylight where the ravens pecked against the glass. ‘See. The Morvren know. They have come to accompany the Giant-Killer on his final journey. From now on, he will be known as Raven King.’
‘Church?’ Laura looked from the Green Man to the ravens, not comprehending.
‘Run, daughter,’ he said insistently. ‘Run!’
6
Church looked out of the window at the ravens, remembering a time more than a thousand years earlier when he had been told that the ravens and their premonition of death would follow him.
‘I’m scared,’ he realised as he watched the birds fly. ‘I never was before.’
‘Scared of what?’ Ruth asked.
‘When it was just me on my own, I’d take risks, do whatever needed to be done, even if it meant putting myself in danger. Now I’ve got something to lose. You.’
Ruth fell silent for a moment. ‘That’s bad.’
‘That’s bad. That’s good. That’s bad.’ Church shook his head, confused.
Mallory burst in, startling them. ‘We’ve got to get out of here. Now.’
‘What is it?’
‘Police. They’ve closed off the street, doing house-to-house.’
Church noticed a flash of blue and white lights further down the street.
‘Looking for us?’ Ruth asked as she stuffed her meagre possessions into a hold-all.
‘Got to be,’ Church said. ‘Get the others. We’ll go out the back, over the rear fence into the next garden. I checked the route earlier.’
As Mallory ran out, Laura was already emerging from her room, and Church could hear Shavi, Sophie and Caitlin talking insistently as they made their way down the stairs.
The hall still smelled of the landlord’s fry-up. Mallory checked the street through the small window at the side of the front door, then motioned to the others to move towards the back of the house. ‘They’ll be here any minute,’ he whispered. ‘There’s an armed unit wearing flak jackets. We won’t stand a chance if they get us in their cross-hairs.’
‘The anti-terrorist squad?’ Ruth said.
‘Makes sense.’ Church finished fastening the harness that held the sword hidden across his back. Ruth carried her spear in a long, customised, cylindrical map bag. ‘The spiders will have people in the top positions everywhere, but they’re still going to need some kind of cover story so they don’t risk wrecking the Mundane Spell. Branding us terrorists will do the job nicely.’
Church pushed past the others into the darkened kitchen. His boots made a wet, sticky sound on the old linoleum. He had only a second to register the inert body of the landlord lying in a shaft of streetlight falling through the window by the door before a stool swung out of the shadows. He half-fended it off, but it clipped his temple and he went down, unconscious.
The others pressed into the kitchen before they even realised Church had fallen, and they were stunned when the light flashed on.
‘Hmm. New faces, new blood.’ Leaning against the cooker was a man who exuded a dangerous air of power and flamboyance. He was a pool of gloom, wearing sunglasses despite the dark; long, black hair, a black goatee, a black overcoat and black motorcycle boots: a studied cliché that still managed to summon up an air of menace while laughing at itself.
‘The Libertarian,’ Shavi noted.
The Libertarian removed his sunglasses to reveal lidless eyes the colour of blood. ‘One name, amongst many. If Mr Churchill were awake he could not really claim to know me. Here at the source, I am a different person. At the height of my powers. I can touch you in a way I never could before. Touch you! Ah, euphemisms! I should have said “butcher you”.’
Mallory kicked the kitchen table so that it pinned the Libertarian’s legs against the cooker. At the same time, Caitlin snatched a carving knife from a block and threw it forcefully. It sank deep into the Libertarian’s shoulder, but although he winced slightly his smile did not waver.
‘Spirited. I like that.’
Caitlin followed up in rapid succession with the other five knives from the block. Shavi and Ruth helped up a groggy Church and dragged him out through the back door.
Mallory noticed that the Libertarian made no particular effort to pursue them, but he didn’t have time to consider why. Kicking the table hard one more time against the Libertarian’s legs, he snatched the key from inside the door and locked it behind him. Through the window, he saw the Libertarian pull out the knives one by one. The Libertarian saw Mallory watching and gave a little wave.
‘Well, you’re a vicious bitch,’ Laura said to Caitlin as they raced by the broken-paned greenhouse towards the thick bushes and tall fence at the bottom of the garden.
Caitlin looked dazed. ‘I just saw the knives and knew what to do.’
‘I had my doubts before, but you’re definitely on the first team.’
Four streets away, they paused to catch their breath. ‘We obviously can’t stay in one place for any length of time,’ Mallory said. He eyed Church. ‘Didn’t you think of that?’
Ruth bristled. ‘Don’t criticise him—’
‘It’s okay.’ Church looked Mallory in the eye. ‘I thought it was a risk worth taking to get us some rest. We got out. What’s your problem?’
‘It’s early days yet.’
Shavi stepped in between the two men. ‘This is not helping. Where do we go now?’
‘We split up, as planned.’ Church glanced up and down the empty street. ‘They’ll be all over this place soon.’
‘We go to the Far Lands?’ Caitlin said uneasily. ‘Mallory, Sophie and me?’
‘It’ll be all right.’ Sophie gave her a reassuring smile. She was confident and calm and that helped Caitlin.
‘Where do we cross over?’ Mallory asked. ‘Shit, how do we cross over?’
The flashing blue and white lights moved into the next street.
‘Just find one of the old sites,’ Church said. ‘Best if you don’t tell us which one you’ll aim for – if we get caught, we won’t be able to betray your location.’
‘Use the Craft to help you cross over,’ Ruth said to Sophie.
‘I don’t know how,’ Sophie protested.
‘It’s inside you. It’ll rise up when you need it, trust me.’
‘How do we meet up?’ Mallory asked.
‘We’ll find a way.’ Church shook Mallory’s hand. The others nodded to each other, silently and uneasily, and then they split into two groups and slipped into the night.
7
Church, Laura, Shavi and Ruth caught the last bus into the city centre, sitting apart to pretend they were not together. Against the moon-silvered sky, Church saw the billowing black cloud of the Morvren following the bus. At Euston Road, the ravens settled on the dome of the Planetarium and the surrounding buildings, a brooding infestation. It was long past one a.m., but the traffic still rumbled and the fast-food joints along Gower Street were doing a brisk trade.
Church and the others jumped off the bus and walked separately to the quiet of University Street where they congregated in a darkened doorway.
‘Why didn’t the Libertarian follow us?’ Ruth asked.
‘He knows we’ve got nowhere to go,’ Church replied. ‘He thinks it’s just a matter of time until his lot catch us.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Ruth said. She caught herself. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just tired.’
‘All right, where to now?’ Laura said.
Before Church could answer, they were startled by the flapping wings of a large owl as it landed on a parked car. Ruth smiled to see her companion.
‘Looks like you’re wanted,’ Laura said.
The owl was restless and didn’t calm even when Ruth stood before it. In its large, unblinking eyes, she saw something that made her feel queasy. She turned to the others. ‘Something’s wrong.’
Church, Laura and Shavi were no longer looking at her. Over the rooftops, a crackling display of illumination was just visible, like the lightning heralding an approaching storm.
The owl soared away frantically. Ruth recoiled from the unexpected movement and when she looked back at the sky, the light display had been lost behind the towering buildings on Baker Street.
‘What was that?’ Laura asked.
Shavi’s expression was grim. ‘We should not remain here much longer.’
‘Head into the centre,’ Church said. ‘We can lie low for a few hours, then get a train out of Paddington or hitch a lift west.’
Footsteps echoing noisily, they moved through the deserted streets that ran between the main thoroughfares of Gower Street and Tottenham Court Road.
‘Is it me or is it starting to smell like some blokes’ locker room round here?’ Laura said when they had finally given up all pretence of walking separately. She was right. It had grown unbearably warm and humid, and there was a mounting odour of stale sweat.
Shavi kept glancing up at the thin streak of sky visible between the tall buildings.
‘Will you stop doing that?’ Laura snapped. ‘You’re creeping me out.’
‘Let’s get into the crowds in Tottenham Court Road,’ Church said. ‘We might be safer there if we can blend in.’
‘You might be able to blend in. I’m far too attractive,’ Laura replied.
The traffic was heavy and the pavements thick with people, but if anything the atmosphere was even worse. Though there was nothing to see, passers-by regularly glanced up into the sky as though they were privy to some secret signal. Their expressions were uniformly worried, and after each skyward glance they would pick up their pace a little. Car horns blared as drivers peered upwards through their windscreens, missing the changing of the lights. Motorcyclists pulled over to the side to look, then drove off at speed through the gaps in the creeping traffic.
‘I don’t like this,’ Ruth said.
‘You’re whining again.’ For once, Laura’s bravado sounded false.
A discharge of energy seared across the sky. People jumped, and a loud ripple of uneasy anticipation ran through the throng.
The crowds stopped to search the heavens. The car horns and the angry bellows of drivers were now deafening. Another golden energy discharge fizzed from behind the row of buildings at Church’s back.
‘Come on.’ He grabbed Ruth’s hand and pulled her into the jammed rows of traffic. Shavi and Laura followed close behind.
‘It’s coming for us, isn’t it?’ Laura said.
‘The Libertarian did indeed know there was no point pursuing us himself,’ Shavi said.
As they reached the middle of the road, a shadow fell across them. Huge, and moving forward quickly, it soon eclipsed the whole street. Church saw the expressions of the people packing the opposite pavement before he saw the shadow’s source: at first disbelief, then confusion, then mounting fear.
The cacophony of voices was drowned by a thunderous crash as a mountain of brick and tile fell from the top of a building behind Church, crushing pedestrians and cars. As a cloud of dust enveloped the street, people abandoned their vehicles and ran screaming, but no one was quite sure which direction to go.
Church, Ruth, Shavi and Laura kept close together, scrambling over the bonnet of the final car before thrusting themselves into the swarming crowd.
Another crash of masonry, more sickening screams cut short. An energy discharge struck the ground and a car exploded. Shrapnel ripped across the street and the windows of all the shops blew out, killing more. Fire raged at the point of impact, spreading rapidly to all the cars stuck in the jam. A chain reaction of explosions as each tank ignited turned Tottenham Court Road into an inferno.
‘We need to get away from the crowds,’ Church yelled as they broke into Oxford Street. ‘All these people are dying because of us.’
Laura came to a halt, transfixed by whatever loomed over them. Church followed her gaze.
Moving slowly over the rooftops was a monstrous echo of a Fabulous Beast. As big as a jet, it had two leonine heads, silently roaring, and a bulky big-cat body covered in fur, scales and feathers. A serpentine tail snaked out behind it. There were no wings or other visible means keeping it aloft, but still it flew, its clawed feet occasionally demolishing chunks of buildings as it passed. What disturbed Church the most was the way its four eyes rolled with idiocy, as if there was no sense in the creature at all. It was simply an engine of destruction, from which the energy discharges burst out at random.
‘How can the Mundane Spell hold when something like this is tearing through the West End?’ Ruth gasped as she ran. ‘The Void must have given up trying to maintain the illusion.’
Church grabbed her hand as they ran. ‘I don’t believe that. The illusion is where its power lies.’
Shavi threw his arms around Laura and dragged her in the direction of the Virgin store as more masonry rained all around. They all raced in the direction of Oxford Circus amongst the scattering pedestrians, the pursuing creature crashing against the rooftops in its blind, stupid relentlessness. Crackling energy bolts sometimes missed them by only a few feet.
Together they stumbled down the steps to Oxford Circus Tube Station, hoping they could find shelter underground, but their way was blocked by a gate. Church shook it impotently; with the last train long gone it wouldn’t be open again until the morning.
At the street entrance, the sizzling energy eased down the steps one at a time as the creature manoeuvred itself into position.
‘We’ll be fried if we go back up there!’ Laura yelled above the din.
Church and Shavi threw themselves at the gate, though they both knew it was futile. Superheated air hit Church’s back in waves, burning him through his clothes. Then, as he desperately examined the chain and padlock, he glimpsed a fleeting impression of a broad, disembodied grin in the dark of the Underground station, like the final fading smile of the Cheshire Cat. When he looked back at the chain, the padlock was open.
‘What caused that?’ Shavi murmured in disbelief as he helped Church wrench open the gate.
‘Just accept it before it changes its mind.’ Church herded them through into the dark ticket hub.
‘I’m definitely sticking with you, Church-dude. The gods are on your side.’ Laura helped Shavi drag the gate shut and refasten the padlock.
‘I’m reserving judgment.’ Ruth stared into the gloom. ‘We might have just tumbled out of the frying pan.’
‘That glass-half-empty attitude is going to wear thin pretty quickly,’ Laura said. But as she turned, she realised Ruth might be right, for Church was nowhere to be seen, even though he had only been feet away from her a moment earlier.
Chapter Two
THE LAST TRAIN
1
‘Please help me. I don’t want to be left on my own.’ The little girl’s voice echoed across the lonely expanse of Battersea Park, but it was Caitlin who spoke, hugging her knees on the steps of the Eastern-styled Peace Pagoda.
‘What the hell’s wrong with her?’ Mallory had spent five minutes trying to quiet her, and had now diverted his energies to keeping watch across the park. His irritation was fuelled by mounting anxiety that the Enemy would be on them if they waited there much longer. A major disturbance was already taking place across the river in the West End, and though much of it was hidden by churning clouds and the constant wail of police and ambulance sirens, he feared the worst.
Sophie slipped an arm around Caitlin’s shoulders. ‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered.
‘I’m scared.’ Caitlin shivered into the crook of Sophie’s arm. ‘It’s too dark here.’
Sophie listened thoughtfully to the tone of the little-girl voice, then asked, ‘What’s your name?’
‘Why, it’s Amy, thank you for asking.’
‘Not Caitlin?’
‘Oh, she’s in here with Brigid and Briony. But I’m Amy.’ Caitlin looked up at Sophie with a bright, innocent face. ‘Will you look after me?’
‘Of course I will. I’ll be back in a minute.’ Sophie pulled free from Caitlin’s clinging embrace and joined Mallory.
‘So? What’s up with her?’ he asked, tense.
‘I think she’s got some kind of mental illness. Multiple personality from the sound of it.’
‘Why am I not surprised?’ A flare illuminated the depths of Mallory’s mind, gone in an instant. ‘The Broken Woman,’ he said dreamily.
‘What?’
He shook his head. ‘Sorry. Don’t know where that came from. They call it Dissociative Disorder now,’ he said, glancing at Caitlin who was rocking backwards and forwards, humming to herself.
‘Stress-induced, yeah?’
‘If she’s going to start flipping personalities every few minutes, it’s going to make things much more complicated for us.’
‘We can’t leave her behind.’
‘I guess not.’
Sophie fixed a cold eye on Mallory.
‘Just a passing thought.’ He turned away, uncomfortable with any hint of reproof from her. ‘So now what? I don’t know anything about ancient sites and all that shite our self-appointed leader was banging on about. There’s what … Avebury?’
‘Stonehenge.’
‘Too close to Salisbury.’
‘What’s wrong with Salisbury?’ Sophie asked.
‘I don’t like the place. It’s a prejudice. Unfounded, but it’s there.’
‘You’re very irrational.’
‘Yeah, but I’ve got a bad side, too.’
‘Then it’s Avebury.’
‘No. It is too obvious.’ The unfamiliar voice startled them.
His heart thundering, Mallory searched the dense shadows along the tree-line. Finally he identified the figure, standing so still it could have been a statue.
