Gavin Smith - The Age of Scorpio

Britha still knew almost nothing of them. Only what little Bress and Cliodna had told her. That they were slaves to a god and that they brought the madness of the moonstruck with them. It was not enough. She needed more. She needed to know where they were going. It would be more difficult if they were to sail across the sea, perhaps south to the kingdoms of the dark-skinned people the Pecht had sometimes traded with, or north back to their icy home.

She knew a way to steal knowledge but she did not wish to use it. Recovering from the wound had weakened her and these kinds of magics took their toll. They would stain her, make her less than other folk, but it was her people at stake, the people that she had sworn to protect.

Chanting to herself, hoping that her tattoos would offer enough protection to ward away the Goddodin’s sea god, she waded into the water. Every time she dived down into the dark water she feared the god of the carved effigies she had seen would find her. Eventually she found the body, her sight better underwater than she remembered. She managed to hold her breath for a long time and tie a rope around him. The huge warrior’s body was heavier than she thought, but with strength that surprised herself she dragged it onto the beach.

Naked, so that her tattoos could protect her, she had drawn with woad on her skin. The symbols would tell her body and mind what to do when she was lost in the vision. They were the magics that would steal knowledge from the dead champion. She had made do without the correct herbs to burn but she had said the words. Ancient words that allowed her to force her will on man, woman, beast, the land and the sky.

Her sickle would have been better, particularly since it had been bathed in her blood, and blood magic was the strongest of all, even more so than fire magic, but that had been lost on the red beach. The iron knife that had seared her flesh would have to do. She reached down to the champion’s body and cut the first slice of meat off. She held it to her face, steeled herself and opened her mouth. She had eaten raw meat before but it was all she could do not to vomit. She swallowed, stealing some of his power, looking for his knowledge, looking for what the demon inside him knew.

It was like swallowing fire. The fit hit her in a burning wave as she threw herself into violent contortions on the ground, screaming.

The young Asian guy staring at her had one of those strange hairstyles that seemed to involve gluing your non-symmetrical hair to your head and, at least in this case, then sleeping on it. It took a few moments for Beth to remember where she was. What she couldn’t work out was who this guy was and why he was staring at her so angrily. His shirt and shorts were obviously what he wore to bed, but both came from what Beth vaguely recognised as designer labels.

‘Hello…?’ Beth tried.

‘So you’re a Luckwicke, are you? Gosh, how lucky we are to have another Luckwicke in our house.’ His voice full of effeminate sarcasm. Beth was pretty sure he was gay. He was certainly attractive enough. Beautiful skin, sensual dark eyes, slender, almost petite frame. Typical , she thought. Clearly he knew Talia and hated her. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened to her. The sensual eyes were filled with anger as he leaned in close to Beth, who was just desperately trying to wake up.

‘Listen to me, bull dyke,’ he began.

I’m not a lesbian , Beth thought in mental protest but kept it to herself.

‘I know Maude thought that Talia was the coolest thing ever and a good friend, but I know that fucking little bitch was trying to turn her out! Try anything like that and you’ll have me to answer to. Understand?’

‘Er… yes,’ Beth said.

‘Now I want you the fuck out of my house and stay away from

Maude, you understand me?’

Beth would have liked to say something, to stand up for her sister, to defend herself, but she could see his point. He and Maude were presumably just two more of her sister’s victims.

‘Fair enough,’ she said and sat up in her sleeping bag. It was pretty much the archetypal student flat, patched and worn furniture, a mixture of band and young male heart-throb posters on the walls. Perhaps a bit more effort had been put into decorating the place, a bit of cheap glamour used to good effect. She found her combats and grabbed them. The pretty young man was glaring at her, arms crossed. ‘A bit of privacy?’ she asked.

‘As if I’d be interested in anything you have to—’

‘Uday, are you being nice?’ Maude said, coming into the lounge in novelty pyjamas that Beth thought made her look like a gothic Dalmatian.

‘No,’ Uday said pettishly. Maude handed him and Beth cups of tea.

‘Thanks,’ Beth said.

‘She was just going,’ Uday said pointedly. Maude turned to Beth.

‘Have you got anywhere to go?’

‘Home?’ Uday suggested.

What a good idea , Beth thought. ‘Just got to sort out a few things first—’

‘What, because your bitch sister blew herself up?’ Uday interrupted. Beth turned to stare at him. Uday, to his credit, met the glare and held it. Maude’s face began to crumple into tears. Uday’s face softened as he put an arm around her. ‘Oh darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I was just being a bitch.’ Uday glared at Beth as if this was all her fault.

‘I’ll go,’ she said and unzipped the sleeping bag, standing up to pull her combats on. Maude reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder.

‘Look, you don’t have to go. You can stay here for a while.’

‘No, she can’t!’ Uday all but screamed. Maude turned to fix him with a stern glare.

‘Uday, you’re being horrible. Just because you never like Tal—’

‘Because she was a heinous bitch!’

‘Uday,’ Beth said quietly. He turned to glare at her, daring Beth to speak. ‘My sister wasn’t a very nice person, I know that perhaps more than anyone. But she’s dead, so please don’t talk about her like that. I wouldn’t do it to you if the positions were reversed.’

Uday stared at her. ‘She fuck you over as well?’ he finally asked.

Beth thought about this. They both seemed nice. Close. Uday was clearly just a protective friend. Beth had the choice of how much to tell them, but she really didn’t like letting anyone in, not when she hadn’t known them for a long time. Trust did not come easy to her.

‘She testified against me at my trial after I hurt her boyfriend, who nearly beat her to death,’ Beth said. It felt like a massive gamble. It felt like she was opening herself up to attack. She decided not to tell them that she’d killed her sister’s boyfriend. Maude looked shocked. Beth didn’t think what she had just told her gelled with the girl’s image of Talia.

‘Okay, you can stay. But just for a little while. I fucking hate freeloaders.’ Uday finally said.

‘Yaaay!’ Maude said. They were just children , Beth thought, and I’m not a freeloader .

Beth walked over to the window and looked out onto a broad tree-lined road. The houses were all three or four storeys, many of them converted into flats, and she thought it must have been a wealthy area at some point in Southsea’s past.

‘Do you know where I can get some work?’ she asked.

Beth guessed the amusements on the pier looked better lit up at night. During the day you saw the cracks. It was an odd place: a mixture of bright plastic, irritating jingles, peeling paint and frayed, stained carpets, the smell of fried food and brutal concrete buildings that reminded her of home. The main building had what looked like a flying saucer on top of it. Bright plastic pirates and animal-headed characters enticed children onto the rides and parted parents from their money.