Justin Fisher - The Darkening King

Barba raised a hand and the tin-skin quietened.

“A force grows when there is hope. It is your job to remove that hope, Atticus.”

Barbarossa stopped by a heavy steel door and Sar-adin pulled out a set of keys.

“I am treading a fine line as it is, Barba. My men are beginning to suspect.”

Sar-adin opened the door to reveal a dimly lit cell. There were no windows, only a withered figure chained to the wall.

“This, Atticus, is Sur-jan. Once he swore to fight for me, yet only this morning he met with the Armstrongs. You promised me that you would take away the fair-folk’s hope and yet it grows .”

Atticus’s face dropped. The Demon looked to be in terrible pain. As cruel and as heartless as their kind was, he felt for it, knowing that whatever Barbarossa had done to the beast to reduce it so must have been unspeakable.

“Do you see hope in my captive’s eyes, Atticus?”

“I-I …”

“You will feed them lies upon lies. You will confuse and befuddle them, till they cannot tell friend from foe, till they cower in their beds calling for their mothers. You will feed them and feed them, till all their hope, strength and vigour is swallowed whole.”

“I will redouble my efforts.”

“No, Atticus, you will push them till you have nothing left to push with.”

And with that, Sar-adin shoved the tin-skin into the cell and locked the door.

“Barba?! Barbarossa, what is the meaning of this?”

“By the time they reach my forest, their spirits will already be broken. You will do the breaking, Atticus. You gave me your oath that you would. Your cellmate gave me such an oath once. A night with him should do plenty to remind you of what is at stake.”

Barbarossa turned his back and retraced his steps, even as Atticus pounded on the door.

“Tell me, Sar-adin, how much longer?” growled Barbarossa.

“He grows stronger.”

“But when will he rise, Sar-adin – WHEN? ”

“Weeks.”

“And the boy, his parents? I fear while they walk free that the fair-folk will continue to have hope.”

“Sur-jan did not tell them about the stone.”

“Then we are still safe. Find them, Sar-adin. Use the clowns and whatever else you deem necessary. The Armstrongs must not stand in our way again.”

“Yes, master.”

The butcher slowed.

“And, Sar-adin – when you end them, make them suffer.”

enissimo and Mr Fox led Ned and his family through the labyrinth that was the BBB’s headquarters. Now somewhat over the initial shock of seeing their old comrade-in-arms, they followed with a keen eye on their surroundings, Gorrn clinging to Ned’s shadow in silence.

“I still don’t get it, Bene. How on earth have Mr Fox and the BBB wound up working for you ?” asked Ned’s dad.

“The BBB was set up decades ago. In many ways their purpose was not so different to the Twelve’s or its circus. Our role was to protect the Hidden – theirs was to protect the jossers. The BBB knew about us fair-folk, though very little, and what you don’t know is always frightening. They have been investigating us for years, trying to find out more. I simply set them straight – told them who the bad guys were and what sort of danger they posed to all living creatures, on both sides of the Veil.”

“And then what?” asked Ned.

“Well, I think their brains rather melted – they went berserk. Had it not been for our red-headed friend here, they would have had me shot.”

Mr Fox smiled.

“Not that shooting him would have worked. But you see, Mr Bear, my boss, well … he doesn’t like surprises. I do think he mellowed after that first heart attack, though,” Benissimo continued. “It turns out what you do know can be far more frightening than what you don’t. But in any case, it’s worked out rather well. Seeing as I became their topmost informant on all things to do with our kind, they have put me in charge.”

Mr Fox promptly stopped smiling.

“A temporary measure, till we sort things out.”

“But a measure nonetheless, Foxy.”

An unmarked door slid open as they approached.

“Which, as you can see, has its benefits. This, my friends, is ‘the Nest’.”

Ned and family walked through the door and out on to a balcony, one of more than a dozen that circled several floors all looking down over a large indoor training ground. Far below, hundreds of grey-tracksuited men were being barked at by a severe-looking Frenchman and a rotund, slightly ageing Italian who had great curling horns protruding from his head.

“Special Forces, don’t give me no-a rubbish. You couldn’t climb your-a way out of a can!”

Several deflated-looking operatives were struggling their way up an admittedly treacherous wall that the ancient half-satyr was playfully skipping across. To one side the Frenchman was demonstrating the easiest way to neutralise a nightmonger. The terrifying creature was a blur of blade-like fingers, but was soon made quite harmless when the instructor launched two weighted nets from a gas-powered machine that looked very much as though it had been designed on this side of the Veil.

“Couteau and Grandpa Tortellini!” exclaimed Ned with the first truly genuine smile he’d given in months.

“The greys are coming along nicely under their tutelage and Tinks has been having a whale of a time mixing our tech with theirs – fascinating results.”

“Tinks?!” grinned Ned. “Where is he?”

“Looking after your mouse, I should think. About half of the old troupe has joined us. The rest are still MIA, I’m afraid.”

“MIA?”

“Missing in action, Ned. You know as well as I do how bad things are out there.”

A horrible thought struck Ned: What about Lucy and George? If they were here, Lucy would have sensed him by now and George would have been hot on her heels, knocking down any number of walls or grey-suits to see his old ward. He didn’t need to ask – Benissimo spotted the look on his face immediately.

“George and Lucy are with the Viceroy. They’ve been delivering one of the old troupe, and I can’t tell you more than that, I’m afraid. Don’t worry – word’s been sent and I should think they’ll have threatened the nearest pilot by now and demanded passage back to the Nest.”

“Delivering one of the troupe? Who?”

“All I can tell you is that he’s a vital part of the plan – as are you, of course, Ned. And we have been trying to bring you in for a while now, as we have new intel that you need to hear. I needn’t mince my words, especially not with you three. The Darkening King is growing stronger by the day. George, Lucy, all of us are scrambling to work with our allies, and telling friend from foe has never been harder. Come on, let’s go to see the boffin – he’ll explain our situation in more detail.”

***

The boffin, known to Benissimo’s old troupe as “Tinks”, had been given a new laboratory to work in and it was to there that Benissimo and Mr Fox led the Armstrongs now. As Ned and his dad entered, they both went a little misty-eyed at what they saw. Ned and his father, both being Engineers – who had the power (when it was working, that is) to bend and manipulate atoms – had a different relationship with all things mechanical than most other people. Their powers hinged on understanding the structure of things, how they came together and worked, so that they could reimagine them into another form. And within these brightly lit walls were the most advanced examples of what modern-day science and technology had to offer, fused together with just a pinch or two of the Hidden’s own magic.