Simon Green - Property of a Lady Faire

“Why didn’t they come after us?” said Molly, hugging herself tightly to try to stop shaking from the cold. “Not that I’m complaining, you understand . . .”

“Maybe they’re not equipped to survive in the wild,” I said. “Or maybe their orders didn’t cover leaving the train.”

“Maybe they know something about this place that we don’t,” said Molly darkly.

“Wouldn’t surprise me in the least,” I said, looking around. “Desolate bloody location.”

“I’ll bet there are wolves,” said Molly.

The more I looked, the more appallingly empty and deserted the snowy landscape seemed. Like a desert, covered with the perfect disguise. No trees or shrubs anywhere, no landmarks, nothing that stood out against the gently rising and falling snow, stretching off in all directions as far as I could see. And I could see pretty damned far through my mask. The sky was perfectly clear, just a pale blue, pale grey, cloudless cover. The sunlight was fierce and unrelenting, but gave no warmth at all. I could see Molly trying to summon her protections, to keep out the cold, but they were little more than a faint shimmer in the air around her. I considered armouring down, to join her, and then quickly pushed the thought aside. One of us had to be properly insulated from this appalling environment if we were to keep moving.

“How long do the days last up here?” Molly said suddenly.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s not like my armour comes with built-in Google. Or even a compass. Since we’re in Siberia . . . that means we’re inside the Arctic Circle. Daylight could last for ages. Or, the sun could just go down and not come up again for weeks. I suggest we think positive, and get a move on.”

Molly started to say something, and then stopped. Her head snapped around, to stare out across the snowy wastes. We both stood very still, and listened. And from off in the distance came the howling of wolves. A whole lot of wolves.

“Told you,” said Molly.

“What the hell are wolves doing all the way out here, in this wilderness?” I said.

“Looking for food, probably,” said Molly. “Let them come. I am so cold I’m fully prepared to rip the fur right off a wolf and wrap myself up in it.”

I stared off in the direction of the Gateway, concentrating my Sight through my mask. I could feel the presence of the Gate stronger than ever, peering back at me. And suddenly I could See it-a great light, fierce and brilliant, blasting up into the sky like a spotlight, right on the edge of the far horizon. Like a beacon, calling us on.

“We’re a lot closer to the Gate than I thought,” I said. “Easy walking distance. Can you See it?”

Molly looked where I was pointing, and then scowled and shook her head. “My magics are all but flatlined. I used them all up, fighting on the train. I can’t even feel the Gate’s presence any more. Though that’s no great loss. Made my skin crawl. Let’s get moving, Eddie. I am freezing my tits off just standing here.”

“How much longer will what’s left of your protections last?” I said carefully.

“Long enough. Let’s go!”

I thought about Ultima Thule, the winter of the world, on the other side of the Gateway, where the conditions were bound to be so much worse . . . but I didn’t say anything. I wouldn’t be saying anything Molly didn’t already know.

• • •

We started off through the thick snow. I went first, slamming through the snow with my armour, sending it flying to either side. I ended up blasting out a trench for Molly to trudge along in, behind me. It saved time, and made life easier for her. The sheer weight of the packed snow fought against me, but it was no match for my armour. Molly slogged along, not complaining at all, which worried me. That wasn’t like her. When I finally glanced back over my shoulder, there wasn’t a trace of her protections showing. She was shivering and shuddering, arms folded tightly to preserve what warmth she had, her mouth clamped shut to keep her teeth from chattering. Her breath leaked out in short bursts, steaming on the cold air, and there wasn’t a trace of colour left in her face.

“I’ve been thinking about the blood-red men,” I said, to try to keep her mind off things. “The way they all looked the same, moved the same . . . I think they were clones.”

“Could be homunculi,” said Molly, forcing the words out past her pale lips. Even half frozen, she still had to be contrary.

“No one makes those any more,” I said. “Too time-consuming, too expensive, and you just can’t get the proper ingredients these days. But it seems like everyone’s into cloning now. I blame Dolly the sheep. She made it look easy, even though it wasn’t. Why clone a sheep, anyway? It’s not like there’s a shortage . . . Why not clone a giant panda, or something else we’re in danger of losing?”

“If you’re trying to keep up a cheerful chatter to take my mind off the desperate situation you landed us in, please stop,” said Molly. “As for the blood-red men, I’m sure I sensed some kind of outside control, back on the train. A single will, working through all the blood-red men at once. Which could mean we have a single enemy after us.”

“I suppose that helps,” I said, smashing through a tall snowbank with one sweep of my golden arm. Small pieces of snow pattered down all around. “A single enemy, who can command a murderous army of things that don’t know how to die. I don’t suppose you have any idea who that might be?”

“Someone who wants the Lazarus Stone,” said Molly. “Damn, my hands are screaming at me . . . Whoever it was, they’re responsible for killing the Regent and his people. No wonder the place was such a mess. A whole army of unstoppable, inhumanly strong killers . . . The poor bastards at Uncanny never stood a chance.”

“Not after a traitor opened the door for them,” I said. “Somebody planned all this . . . Almost certainly the Voice who took my parents. But who? Why?”

“There you go again,” Molly said grimly. “Asking questions you know I don’t have any answers for. Once upon a time, when it came to enemies with good reason to want us dead, I could have provided you with a really long list . . . But it seems to me that we wiped most of them out, these last few years.”

“We have been busy,” I said, checking the distance still to go, to the Gateway. The bright pulsing pillar of light on the horizon didn’t seem any closer. “Seems to me the only way to identify our enemy is to discover as much as we can about the Lazarus Stone. That’s the driving force behind everything that’s happening. We need to know what it really is, what it really does . . . And maybe that will tell us why the Voice wants it so badly.”

“A Stone that can snatch people out of Time, before History says they’re dead,” said Molly. Her voice was growing quieter, the words less distinct as her lips grew numb. “If you could do that, Eddie, if you could save someone, who would you choose?”

“My uncle James,” I said immediately. “He was like a father to me for so many years, after my parents disappeared. He did so much for me, and did his best to protect me from the worst sides of my family.”

“He would have killed you, at the end,” said Molly. “We had to kill him.”

“I know,” I said. “He had to die. For the family to survive. But I do miss him. How about you, Molly? Who would you bring back?”

Before she could answer, we were interrupted. A great pack of wolves came running across the snow towards us. They moved at incredible speed, seeming to barely touch the surface of the snow. As though their sheer speed kept them from sinking in. Huge animals, twice the size of the average dog, long and lean with pale grey fur and mouths dropped open to reveal large, jagged teeth. They ran in silence, dozens of them, in perfect formation. Their eyes glowed red, fixed on Molly and me.