Mike Shevdon - The Eighth Court

“What about your Mum?” I said. “You’ve left her on her own?”

“Oh, you know Mum,” said Alex. “She’ll be all right.”

“I’m not happy about Sam sneaking round the house. Maybe you should go back and stay with her, just in case.”

“I told her I’m staying here, now,” said Alex. “She’s not expecting me back.”

There was a hint of evasion in that sentence, but then so much of what Alex said was veiled in half-truths.

“As regards the rose, this will either work or it won’t,” said Blackbird, “but it’s too tempting not to give it a try. It could solve a lot of our problems, assuming the manor still exists and hasn’t been developed into a housing estate in the intervening years. Even so, I don’t want Garvin knowing about this, or the horseshoes” said Blackbird. “Not until we’re sure where his loyalties lie.”

“I could come with you,” Alex suggested.

“I think it would be better if you stayed here,” I told her.

“I could watch your back. I wouldn’t get in the way. You need someone, and you can’t take one of the Warders or they’ll tell Garvin,” she pointed out.

“Look,” I said to Alex. “It’ll be a long car drive and there’ll be nothing to do. I’m only going to collect the horseshoes and bring them back here. I won’t need anyone to watch my back because nothing’s going to happen,” I said, kissing her forehead. “Blackbird and Angela are going to test a theory. You could do me a really big favour and go and look after your little brother.”

“Oh Dad!”

“What? Lesley’s looked after him for most of the day. She could do with a break, and besides, he really likes you.”

“He pulls my hair,” she protested, “when he’s not throwing up all over me.”

“He’s not pulling it, he’s playing with it.” I told her. “He doesn’t mean any harm. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Just keep the pair of you out of trouble until I get back.”

I left Alex complaining to Blackbird, much good it would do her, and took my sword and headed for the stables to find a driver to take me back into London.

“Why do you always wait for me to speak first?”

“Because I want to hear what you have to say?” whispered the voice.

There was a pause. “Why did you have to kill her? You already had the safe.”

“It was necessary. There will be no more ceremonies.”

“She was human. It was a very public place. There will be questions. All this invites a level of scrutiny I would rather avoid.”

“Deal with it.”

“I am dealing with it, but you keep making it harder.”

“That’s your part of the bargain,” the whisperer said.

“Not as I recall.”

“It’s all the same,” said the whisper. “Has the ultimatum been delivered?”

“Yes.”

“Have they agreed?”

“She’s trying to buy time.”

“That must not happen.”

“I’m doing what I can to prevent it, but Barthia is inclined to support them. You could apply a little leverage from your end?”

“I’ll see what can be done.”

“And what about the other part of the bargain? When are you going to deliver on that?”

“Everything comes to those who wait,” said the whisperer.

“Seems like there’s a lot of waiting and not much delivery.”

“You want me to do it now?”

“No. But it has to be soon. He won’t last.”

“The more she draws it out, the longer it will be,” said the whisperer.

“Then do something.” The shadow detached itself and withdrew.

“Steady, now,” whispered the voice.

Blackbird and Angela left Alex shortly after her Dad. “Fine,” Alex said to herself. “I’ll hold the fort. Leave it to me.”

She went back towards her room, intending to grab the music player she’d acquired in a manner that didn’t bear examination, especially from her father. The baby would try and pull the earphones out, if she let him, but as long as he didn’t suck them it was probably OK. If she let her hair wind around his stubby little fingers that usually kept him amused until he fell asleep.

“Hey, Alex.” Sparky was leaning against the wall outside his room, the slanting lines of the setting sun cutting through his doorway beside him sending slanting lines of light across the corridor.

“Hey you,” said Alex, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he said, tucking his hands behind his back and lounging back against the wall, “but that could change.”

“Why’s that?” she asked, pausing.

“We could do something? Maybe go into town, find one of those clubs you like?”

“You said you don’t dance,” she said.

“You do,” he said, “I could learn. You could teach me.”

Alex laughed. “It’s not something you learn. You can either do it or you can’t.”

“OK, then maybe I do dance after all. Maybe I just haven’t tried.”

Alex sighed. “Not tonight, OK? I have to go and look after the baby. Dad’s gone out on an errand, and Blackbird’s off doing Blackbird stuff. You know what she’s like.”

“Yeah. She’s cool, though. I like her,” said Sparky.

“You fancy her, you mean,” said Alex, and then looked away when Sparky blushed. Blimey, she thought. He really does have the hots for her.

“So what about tomorrow?” he asked, covering his embarrassment. “We could make a night of it.”

Alex looked back at him. She kinda liked him, but not in that way. He was OK. They’d been through stuff together, and come out closer, but he was always trying to make it into something else. Why couldn’t he just accept things the way they were?

“We’ll see,” she said, and then realised she’d used exactly the tone of voice her Dad used when he meant no, but didn’t want to argue with her. Sparky didn’t seem to pick up the hint, though.

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll bring some boosters, and we can head out.”

Alex eased past, “Yeah, maybe,” she said. Booster was a combination of energy drink, dark rum and dissolved caffeine tablets. Sparky swore by it, but Alex thought tasted like cough medicine. He was always trying to get her to drink it, claiming it would give her a lift.

“Tomorrow, then?” he called after her.

“We’ll see how we are,” she repeated.

She reached her room, grabbed her music player and left again, heading further down the hall to the spiral staircase, skipping lightly downwards so she could get back to the main house without having to pass Sparky again. He’d been waiting for her — she knew that. All that nonchalance outside his room was a put-up job.

He was probably just anxious for company, though. She knew how lonely this house could be, and most of the newcomers were older. Sparky was probably just missing people. For a half-second she thought back to the time they’d had together. They’d been a team, Sparky, Chipper, Eve and her. But then she remembered that Eve had tried to kill them all, and Chipper had died. Alex’d killed him, just like the others.

A body lying charred and steaming on the cold grass, its eyes staring out at nothing, the lips pulled back from the teeth in a rictus grin. The gorge-rising smell of burned meat mixes with the stench of sewer water, the choked-off screams echoing back from the tiles as they were dragged under. The swirling brown water in the tiny room, dragging them into the middle…

Staggering at the bottom of the stairs, she was blinded by the onslaught of images in her head, lowering herself to sit on the stairs, feeling for the steps with her fingers while she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to blot out the images. She cloaked herself in glamour, not wanting to be seen like this, trembling and sweating over a memory. Slowing her breathing, one breath at a time, she pushed the memories back down, telling herself that it was done with. It was over.