Blue Dome (The Blue Dome Series) (14 page)

“Shrap, what you doing
here?” said
Troy
. “You’ve got
to get going man, the cops are after us.”

“Yeah, I know,” said
Shrapnel. He put his fingers in his mouth and blew a shrill whistle.

“Shrap! What the hell are
you doing?” said
Troy
.

Shrapnel shrugged. “Sorry
man, I’m just doing what I have to do.”

“What are you on about?”
said Bede.

“It’s you, Bede. They
want you.”

Troy
turned to Bede, his eyes glowering.

“I don’t believe it,” he
said. “You two little punks have completely wrecked the home of thirty people!
How could you be so stupid?”

Bede felt as if he’d been
punched. “
Why
?” he said to Shrapnel. “I thought we were friends?” He turned
to
Troy
but
Troy
stopped him before he could speak.

“No man, don’t even
start. Sorry ain’t going to cut it. As for you…”
Troy
turned to Shrapnel. “You disgust me. Forget about us being family,
it’s over.”

Shrapnel opened his mouth
to reply when a loud, splintering noise suddenly burst through the
conversation. The police were now breaking down the side of the fence and black
uniforms were pouring into the far side of the garden.

“Stop where you are, all
of you!” someone shouted.

“Quick, over the fence,”
said
Troy
.

“Hey, they’re about to…”
Shrapnel called to the police, his voice trailing off as
Troy
delivered a punch to his head,
knocking him out cold.

“Calix, give me your
foot,” said
Troy
. “When you’re
over, start running.”

Bede watched Calix catapult
over the fence, before
Troy
turned to Ian.

“C’mon mate, you’re next.”

Ian wrinkled his mouth
sceptically as he put his large boot in
Troy
’s hand.

“Bede, once he grabs the top
of the fence, shove his butt up. Ready? One, two…”

Ian gave a loud grunt and
pulled himself up the wall, straddling the fence like a large sausage suspended
on a meat hook, before managing to haul one leg, then the other, over the top. They
heard him drop with a thud on the other side.
Troy
turned to Bede.

“C’mon,” he said.

Bede shook his head. “No.
It’s me they want,” he said, locking his fingers together and lowering his
cupped palms towards
Troy
. “Give
me your foot.”

Troy
glared at him. “Nah. You want to do the guilt thing, fine, I’m
happy to help. But right now you’re getting your arse over that fence. Now move
it.”

Bede met
Troy
’s black eyes with a level stare, as the
sound of policemen thrashing through the undergrowth rose steadily in his ears.

“Thanks, I owe you,” said
Bede quietly. He scrambled, over the fence just in time to see Calix and Ian
sprinting across the neighbouring park. He dropped lightly to the ground and began
pacing nervously, waiting for
Troy
to clear the fence. There was a loud thwack on the other side of
the boards and the dry, scraping sound of feet scrabbling against wood.
Troy
’s head popped over of the top of the
panels, his long, sinewy arms tensing as he heaved his torso over the ridge. He
glanced down to see Bede looking back up him.

“I thought I told you to
run,” he said.

“Not ‘till I knew you’d
made it,” said Bede.

“C’mon,” said
Troy
, dropping to the ground and pulling
Bede into a gallop.

They caught up with the
others, just as Calix’s legs were disappearing through a rough hole in a hedge.
Ian was looking doubtful.

“It’s all right for a
skinny chick like Calix, but how am I going to get this...” he pointed to his
belly, “…through that,” he said, pointing to the small hole.

“We’ll push, now hurry up,”
said
Troy
.

Ian lay down on his
stomach and started wriggling towards the hole. He was half way through it when
he started to yelp.

“I’m stuck!”

Troy
and Bede began frantically tearing at the branches, bloodying their
hands as they tried to make the hole bigger. Bede glanced behind him to see the
first policeman scaling the fence.

“Hurry!” he said.

“If I
ever
see you
eat another pork pie, Ian…” said
Troy
.

“Sorry man,” wheezed Ian
from under the bushes.

“Cut the “sorry”, just
keep going!”

With one last heave Ian
finally clawed his way out of the hole.

“You two, stop right
there,” a voice shouted.

“Quick!”

Bede felt himself being
pushed to the ground and he scrambled forwards with the instincts of a hunted
animal. He’d barely had time to get back on his feet when
Troy
came hurtling through the gap after
him. They were now standing in the middle of the park. It was a huge, flat
expanse of green, with a duck pond in the middle and a road bordering the far
side. Calix and Ian were fast approaching the pond.

“Stay clear of the road,”
shouted
Troy
. “They’ll get you
from there.”

Calix turned mid-stride
and gave them the thumbs up, before she and Ian veered sharply right.

“If we cut across the
diagonal we’ll catch them up quicker,” said Bede.

Police sirens had now
seized the airwaves, squeezing out every other sound. Dark uniforms were
swirling around the park like black confetti.

“What now?” said Calix,
as Bede and
Troy
drew up
alongside her.

“We might be better off
if we split up,” said
Troy
.
“Confuse the cops a bit.”

“Yeah, but how are we
going to do that?” said Ian.

“Calix, you and Bede go
one way. Ian, you and I will go another,” said
Troy
.

“Fine,” said Bede, “but
whatever we do, we’d better do it fast. Those cops are closing in.”

Calix turned to
Troy
. “I’ll call you,” she said.

He nodded and gave her a
quick peck on the cheek. “Look after yourself, C.”

Bede watched as
Troy
and Ian doubled back across the park
and began heading towards the far west side. Calix tugged urgently on his
sleeve.

“Come on, I know the
perfect place to hide.”

“Whoa, hang on a minute,”
said Bede. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Trust me, it’s good,”
said Calix.

Bede frowned. He knew
this part of the city pretty well himself, and all its hiding places. Calix was
asking a lot, expecting him to trust her when they’d only just met.

“Quick, the short cut’s
over there,” said Calix, pointing to a pedestrian walkway at the edge of the
park. Bede sighed, preparing himself for the leap of faith he was about to
take.

Min wasn’t kidding when
she said that our escape route wasn’t going to be easy. For a start, it was
freezing and no matter how tightly I tried to wrap my coat around me, the cold
air still managed to sneak its way in. I concentrated on keeping my teeth from
chattering by jamming my tongue to the roof of my mouth, but it only reminded
me of just how cold I actually was.

Worse still, my fear of
heights had come back with a vengeance. Although I was determined not to look
down, it was hard to forget that I was now walking along the steepest tightrope
known to man. Every instinct was screaming at me to stay perfectly still, rather
than force my feet to cross the ridiculously narrow strip of rocks in front of
me. It didn’t help that the loose scree kept shifting under my feet, throwing
me off balance.

Meanwhile, up ahead, it
seemed like Min was virtually dancing over the stones, her feet barely ruffling
them. I glanced behind me and Thomas also seemed to be strolling along as if he
didn’t have a care in the world.

“How can you two walk so
easily
?”
I said, trying to steady myself between each word.

Thomas smiled. “Don’t be hard
on yourself, Clare. Min and I have had a lot of practice.”

In the distance, I could
see the bats circling, just as they had when I’d walked down the silver staircase
with Demarge. Their thin, wiry cries echoed eerily around the rocky walls of
the chasm, making me feel very twitchy as I remembered what they ate. I only hoped
that the door to the outside world was a lot closer than it looked.

***

“I can’t believe you’re
just letting them leave?” Morana peered down over the tiny balcony carved high
up in the rock face and adjusted a complicated pair of antique theatre glasses.
Their many different lenses and cogs whirred gently. “You’d just about killed
Thomas and you had the girl right where you wanted her.”

Demarge turned to her
wearily.

“Morana, you know very
well that I can’t
kill
Thomas. “Besides, the whole point of imprisoning
him and the girl was precisely so they
could
escape.”

“Why?” said Morana.

“The girl is
bait
,
Morana,” said Demarge, clipping every syllable. “If I’m going to destroy the
Slipworld, I need to know where the entrance is, don’t I? Our little Aeon
friends are going to lead us straight there. They know, as well as I do, how
valuable the girl is to me. It’s why they’re here in the first place, to steal
her as their own.”

“And if they succeed?”
said Morana.

“Let them try. The girl’s
a mortal, she’ll have to come back here eventually. The fact that her brother
is now wanted for murder is likely to be a powerful incentive. Don’t worry
Morana, the girl
will
be mine. All in good time.”

“The Aeons aren’t
foolish,” said Morana. “They’ll suspect something”

“So let them. There’s
nothing they can do about it. I control fate.”

Morana scowled but said
nothing, as Demarge continued to study the ridge below intently.

“They must be very weak,
not to simply fly,” he said. “I’m sure, though, I can give them even more
reason to make haste to the Slipworld.”

He twisted his wrists
slowly, as if fastening the caps onto bottles. “Bats, blessed be,” he
whispered, gently blowing his palms as if they were covered in dust. Far below,
a large cloud of bats began to thicken and boil like black porridge on a hob.

***

It was Thomas who noticed
them first. “Min, Clare,” he whispered. “Can you hear that?”

I craned my ear but could
hear nothing unusual. Not at first, anyway. It was a couple of seconds before I
realised what Thomas had meant – the sickening, unmistakeable drumbeat of
thousands of pairs of leathery wings. Glancing up, the sky was now a torrent of
black, circling lower and lower in a fast-moving spiral. I could see the bats’
silver bellies glistening in the pale light and their pug noses siphoning the
air for scents. Worst of all, I could see their sharp fangs poking down over
their bottom lips. A cold shiver slithered down my back.

 “Get down!” Min
screamed, her voice becoming lost in the cacophony of high pitched chirps and
squeals.

I crouched, just in time to
feel the bats skim the top of my head and a sharp pain tear at my scalp. As I
glanced up, glittering strands of my hair were now disappearing into the
darkness and everything had become eerily quiet.

“Is that it?” I
whispered.

“Maybe,” said Thomas.

I straightened up, just
as the first wing tips were starting to emerge from the black haze ahead of us.
The bats had now started to slow down and arc back on themselves.

“They’re coming around again,”
said Min. “The light’s our only option.” She turned to me. “Get as low as you
can and shield your head with your arms. Don’t stand up until we say.”

I nodded and lay flat on
my stomach, covering my head. As I peered through the cage of my arms I could see
Min and Thomas join hands, raising their arms high above their heads. The bats
were now circling directly above us, their wings suspended in the air like
ominous black arches.

“Now!” screamed Thomas.

Blinding flashes of
yellow and blue light tore skyward, lighting up the entire path. The two streaks
looped in and out of each other like a pair of racing snakes, before blending
together and shooting into the swarm of bats in one solid white beam. Hundreds
of bodies scattered instantly across the cavern, like seeds bursting from an
overripe seed pod. I screamed as I felt one hit my leg and ricochet into the
shaft. Light smashed into the walls like a tidal wave, coating the rocks in a
white, static fur before slowly dissolving.

“Come on,” said Min,
grabbing a fistful of my jacket and dragging me to my feet. I stumbled, Thomas
grabbing my arm just in time before I hurtled into the mouth of the cavern. “We
must hurry! It won’t be long before he tries something else.” I didn’t need to
ask who she meant by “he”.

***

Demarge’s black-gloved
hands gripped the stone banister as he stared down at the figures on the ridge,
their bodies just tiny dark pinpricks in the distance. His smile was like a
scythe.

“Yes,” he said slowly,
“use your light, exhaust yourselves, run back to the Slipworld.”

“I still don’t understand
why you don’t just kill her,” said Morana, as she casually examined her long,
scarlet nails.

“Because, Morana, that
would be extremely short-sighted,” said Demarge irritably. “The girl could be
very useful, if persuaded.”

He stood up and began
walking down the stairs into the dark chamber behind him. In the candlelight,
dust and breath entwined themselves in the smoke of the dying fire. A short,
fat, man with small eyes was stoking the coals, the black lumps blinking red with
surprise as each one was turned. Arius was asleep on the black marble mantelpiece,
his green skin gleaming in the dim light. Demarge gently stroked the snake’s
head. It opened its eyes dozily.

“
Stanley
, fetch me the boy,” said Demarge.

“Onto it boss,” the short
man grunted.

Demarge watched him
disappear into the darkness before turning back to the balcony.

“How far along are they?”

There was a brief pause before
Morana answered.

“Not far from the end of
the path. They’ll soon be through the door.”

Demarge smiled quietly to
himself.

“Ahem,” said someone,
clearing their throat.

Demarge’s head snapped
around to see a boy standing a few paces behind him. He had one hand slung in
the pocket of his jeans and was casually smoking a cigarette.

“Smoking’s bad for your
health,” said Demarge, arching his right eyebrow in mock disapproval.

The boy flicked the butt nervously
into the garret, uncertain whether or not he was supposed to laugh.

“I need you to do a small
job for me.”

“Yeah, what?” said the
boy.

Demarge’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah,
what?” he mimicked. There was a pause. Suddenly, he slammed his fist against the
top of the mantelpiece, making the boy jump. “Don’t you
ever
‘yeah what’
me again,” said Demarge, his voice dropping down deadly low. “I don’t like it.”

“Sorry,” said the boy quickly.
“What can I do for you, boss?”

Demarge unclenched his
jaw. “I need you to follow three people and tell me where they go. I want every
last detail, and it’s imperative that no one sees you. Do you understand?”

The boy nodded. “Yes, who?”

“A woman, a boy and a
girl. Come.” Demarge jerked his head towards the balcony and the boy followed, keeping
his distance. “Morana, give the boy the glasses,” he demanded

She tore the glasses from
her face, glaring at Demarge as she slapped them into the boy’s hands. The cogs
whirred and one of the lenses instantly lengthened itself.

“Well?” Demarge said
impatiently. The boy looked at the object as if it was a screaming baby he
desperately hoped its mother would reclaim.

“Use them to look!” said
Demarge.

Morana rolled her eyes.
“Mortals,” she sighed. “Useless eyesight, no brains.”

Demarge cut her a
poisonous glance.

“I can’t really see
anything,” said the boy, holding the binoculars to his face. He paused, to
adjust the lenses. “Hang on, yes I can. There’re only two people though. They’re
pretty blurry. I think the small one has pale hair?” Morana stifled a
told-you-so smirk and said nothing. Demarge exhaled loudly.

“I can see three people
with my bare eyes. The girl is walking behind the woman.” The boy continued to
peer into the lenses, but it was no use.

“I still can’t see
anything more than before,” he said.

Demarge snorted derisively.
“Oh never mind!” He snatched the glasses away from the boy and led him back down
the stairs from the balcony, into the main room. “It’s just fortunate you’ll be
working with another member of my staff, whose eyesight is superb.”

Demarge was now staring
at a point fixed somewhere in the near distance, beyond the back of the boy’s
head. Tracing his line of sight, the boy turned to see a tall, slim, dark
silhouette standing in the doorway. The man stepped out of the shadows and
walked silently across the room, followed by a dark, charcoal-grey wolfhound
whose head was almost at the same height as the man’s chest. They both stopped
at Demarge’s side.

The man was quite a bit
older than him, thirties maybe the boy figured, it was hard to tell. In the candlelight,
his pale skin was as luminous as liquid porcelain, his thick, platinum hair
perfectly smooth and still. It was as if the man had been sculpted from a solid
block of frozen milk. Of all his features, though, it was the man’s eyes that
the boy noticed the most. They were the palest blue he’d ever seen, the pupils
savagely black against the pallid irises.

Without warning, the man
flicked his gaze sideways at the boy, making him cringe. The boy averted his
eyes awkwardly, a cold shiver racing down his back. There was something
unnervingly cold about the way the man had looked at him, like a reptile sizing
up its prey.

Before Demarge had taken
a breath to introduce the man, Morana’s disembodied voice slid into the room.

“Ecoli, it’s lovely to
see you again.”

The man’s attention
darted immediately towards the stairwell, his eyes quivering violet for just
the briefest of seconds, as Morana descended the final step. They held each
other’s gaze.

“Morana, you look well,
as always,” he said.

She smiled, slyly, as if
sharing a private joke.

The boy glanced covertly
at Morana and Ecoli, trying to gauge the relationship between them. Ecoli’s jaw
was no longer tightly clenched, his skin less tightly stretched over his high
cheekbones. His face looked softer somehow, more
human
. From the way
they were smiling at one another, the boy could tell they were intimately
connected. The tautness in the air between them was as strong and immutable as
steel rope.

A gentle growl gurgled
somewhere deep in the dog’s throat. It padded across the room to Morana, its
claws clattering against the black tiles. She stroked its head, her eyes still
trained on Ecoli.

“Good boy, Eredus,” she
whispered.

Demarge glanced briefly
from Morana to Ecoli, appraising the relationship between them.

“I trust you will focus
on the task,” he said curtly.

“Of course,” said Ecoli,
tearing his gaze away from Morana.

Demarge turned to the
large clock that occupied the whole of the ceiling.

“Your quarry is going to
emerge from the back door of the old millinery in approximately thirteen
minutes. Go!”