Bones and Ashes (21 page)

Raiden almost sighed. The whole of London seemed to know about the amulet. “Amulet? What amulet?” she said.

“You give us, not them.” The Goblin King spoke with his mouth full. Pieces of meat were spat out as he talked.

The pixie scowled at the shower of spittle. He took a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped the spit from his face. “Lady Feralis, thank you for accepting His Majesty’s invitation to join us.”

“Want amulet,” the Goblin King said again.

“I don’t have an amulet,” Raiden said. “You’re mistaken.”

The Goblin King pounded his fist on the arm of the throne, like a child having a tantrum. “Give amulet.”

The pixie sighed. “Allow me to explain the situation to you, Lady Feralis. If you will permit me, Your Majesty.” The Goblin King grunted and went back to stuffing food into his mouth. “It came to our attention that a certain amulet had come onto the market. A gentleman was looking to sell it after it had come into his possession. There were a number of parties interested in acquiring the amulet. It was their interest that led His Majesty to decide it might perhaps be fruitful if he were to acquire the amulet for himself.”

She didn’t think the Goblin King would be clever enough to come up with that idea without some help. “Did he want the amulet or did you want the amulet?” she asked.

The pixie drank down the rest of the blood and smiled. “I am merely an ambassador from my court, a humble servant of His Majesty’s.”

“Of course you are.”

“Nevertheless, His Majesty would like the amulet and we understand it is currently in your possession.”

“If I give you the amulet, will you let me go?”

“Absolutely,” the pixie said, a bit too quickly.

She didn’t believe him. “Take me back to the surface first, and once we’re there I’ll give you the amulet.”   

The pixie narrowed his eyes. “She means to trick you, Majesty.” Raiden stayed silent and waited. She met the Goblin King’s greedy gaze. “You shouldn’t trust her,” the pixie said.

“Do you know who my family are?”

The pixie smiled. “Yes, Lady Feralis. I know who they are and what they can do. However, I’ve heard that while your family may be powerful evokers, you are not.”

His words stung. She was powerless and he knew it.

“Now, the amulet if you please.” The pixie held out his hand. 

It was dark here, far below London. There were no mirrors that she could see. The lady in the mirror would never find the amulet here. She pulled the amulet over her neck and dangled it by the chain. The Goblin King and the pixie both leaned forward. Light from the torches reflected back from the jewel. The Goblin King reached out a hand for it.

“You can have the amulet.” She still had the torch in one hand. She moved closer. She swung the amulet around by its chain and tossed it into the air. The Goblin King cried out and went to grab it. The pixie jumped from his seat.

“Mine,” the Goblin King shouted.

Raiden didn’t wait to see who would get it. She ran back to the tunnel. No one moved to follow her; they were all watching to see what would happen between the King and the pixie.

She ran down the passageway and stopped. There were two turnings. She didn’t know which one they had come by.

The openings both looked the same. She had to get away from the goblins before they came after her. She chose the left one. The tunnel narrowed. She had to hunch down to get through. The tunnel split again and again. She was going deeper and deeper underground. She kept running through the winding passages. Raiden stopped, panting, her heart racing. The tunnel split into five. 

She sank down, her back against the side of the tunnel. She had to get to Aren. No one was coming to find her. No one even knew she was down here. She could wander the tunnels and never find her way out, or stay here and freeze to death. She wrapped her arms around herself to try and keep warm.

The torch spluttered. It would burn out soon and then she would be left here in the dark. At least the amulet was out of reach of the lady in the mirror. She would never find it down here.

A dim light appeared in one of the tunnels. She could hear footsteps approaching. She got to her feet. A cloaked figure emerged from the left hand tunnel, a torch in his hand. A golden mask covered the stranger’s face. The outline of his eyes and mouth and nose had been beaten into the metal, but there was no opening for him to see or even breathe. It was the man who had followed her earlier in the week.

She gripped the torch like a weapon, ready to strike him if he came any closer. He stopped before her.

Slowly, he lifted his mask off.

Chapter Seventeen

“I trust I’m not interrupting,” he said.

“You!” Raiden said. “You were the one following me.”

Lazare, the vampire from the theatre, threw back his hood. The light from the torch cast a glow on the vampire’s face, making his skin seem warm. It made him almost seem alive. His blonde hair was damp with sweat. He shook the strands out of his eyes and smiled. “I intended to speak with you, but you ran away. I didn’t realise who you were until I saw you at the theatre that evening with Eleanor.”

“You want the amulet,” she guessed.

“Yes, I wanted the amulet, although I assume that’s no longer an option.”

“I gave it to the goblins.”

He nodded. “Let’s get out of this place and then we can talk. The goblins will be after you at any moment.”

“I’m not going with you.”

“You can stay here if you wish,” Lazare called over his shoulder, as he headed back into the tunnel.

Raiden had no choice but to follow him. Lazare led her through the tunnels, taking random turnings. “How did you know I had the amulet?” she asked.

“I questioned the landlady at the boarding house. She said you had found something in Matherson’s room and that the girl had taken it with her.” His stride was long; she had to hurry to keep up with him. “Valerian saw me following you that day and then again at the theatre.”

The tunnel widened and the dirt floor was replaced by a stone one. The walls were set with torches. “It was why I came to England,” he continued. “My mistress heard it had come onto the market and she wanted it for herself. But the seller died before I could acquire it. It was most inconvenient of him.”

They emerged from the tunnel onto a street lined with shops and smart houses. It was night here. The street lights were lit.

“Surely it can’t be night yet,” Raiden said as she looked around. There was no breeze. She couldn’t see any stars or clouds, just darkness above them.

“We’re still underground.” Lazare said. “I wouldn’t have brought you here, but it’s the quickest way.”

A mummy without any bandages sat sipping coffee outside a coffee shop. The mummy wore a black silk dress and clutched a lace parasol in one hand. Its arms were brown sticks, its face a dried out husk. On its head was an elaborate black wig. The mass of black curls was piled up high. Tendrils had been left loose to curl around the mummy’s shriveled shoulders. At the next table a zombie, the stitches visible around his neck where his head had been sewn back on, was playing chess with a ghost.

There was something missing; she could see demons, ghosts, zombies and skeletons, but there were no humans here; at least none still living

“Is this place just for demons and the dead?” she asked.

Lazare shrugged. “There is nothing stating that living humans aren’t welcome here. Over the centuries it’s where the demons and the dead have congregated. It used to be a refuge where they could hide after the monarchy was abolished and the Inquisition came to power.”  

“But things are different now,” Raiden said.

The vampire gave a short laugh. “Nothing has changed, not really. The only difference now is that they don’t kill demons on sight or round up the dead to be burned. Demons and the dead still can’t vote. They work for less money and yet they work longer hours than the humans; that’s if they can find employment. Most do menial work, lighting street lights and collecting human waste. They are always outsiders. They will never be accepted.”

She didn’t belong there either. On the outside, she might look like she fitted in, but not on the inside.

“You have a theatre,” Raiden said in wonder.

“A theatre, a hotel, even a bank.”

Raiden stopped outside a shop window. The window was full of body parts; hands, feet and four heads were on display. The fingers and toes wriggled, the severed heads looked around. They were selling replacement zombie parts. Further back in the store, she could see stacks of bones.

They passed another shop selling replacement eyes. The shelves were filled with eyes of every shape. They were for the dead and demons who had lost their eyes, or simply wanted to change them to keep up with the latest fashion. Some were in pairs, others in threes and fours. There was a huge single eye, the size of a melon, from a cyclops, a tiny pair of silver eyes from a fairy and human eyes in various colours.

They turned off the street down an alleyway. She wanted to stay and see more, but Lazare led her through a passage and down a tunnel. Eventually, they came to a heavy wooden door.

Raiden hesitated. “It’s still daylight out there.”

“Why do you think I am wearing this ridiculous costume?” Lazare said. “I wasn’t planning to attend a masquerade.” He slipped the golden mask back over his face.

He opened the door. Sunlight streamed in blinding her. Her eyes had to adjust to the light after being in the darkness for so long. Lazare hissed as the sunlight hit him. “Hurry,” he said, ushering her through the door. He slammed it shut behind them. They were on a street in London. A carriage stood waiting nearby. It was the strange man with the zombie horses who had accosted her that morning.

She stepped back. Lazare took her arm and steered her toward the carriage. She tried to pull away. The strange little man opened the door. “You found her, master,” he said.

Lazare pulled the steps down. “Yes. I did it myself.” His voice was muffled beneath the mask.

“You know him?” Raiden asked.

“Of course.” He stepped aside. “Get in.”

There were no windows inside the carriage. A lamp was the only source of light.

“That…” She didn’t quite know what to call him. “That creature accosted me this morning.”

“I know. I sent him.” Lazare took his mask off. “If only you had gone with him, it would have saved me a great deal of trouble.”

“A strange man with no eyes approaches me in the street and you think I should have gone with him?”

“I told him to put his eyes in before he left. Where do you want to go?”

“Grimwood Manor.”

He did nothing, but the carriage began to move. Only that morning she had taken a lift from a fairy and now she was sitting in a carriage with a vampire. There were no windows. It felt cramped like being shut in a coffin. Lazare was too close to her. His legs were stretched out and one arm rested along the back of her seat. She pressed herself into the corner to avoid her skirts brushing his leg.

“Why are you helping me? Is it because of my grandmother?” she asked.

“Hardly.” He gave a bitter laugh. “As soon as I saw those green eyes, I knew you were a Feralis. Two hundred years and your family are still plaguing me. They have always been a thorn in my side. Does Xanivar know about the amulet?”

“How do you know about Xan?”

“I’ve known Xanivar for centuries. I was an ambassador from the vampire courts and he was often an ambassador from England. He is never far from your family. I knew your grandmother as well, a long time ago when she was about the age you are now.” His voice sounded almost wistful. Raiden wondered what had been between them. “The only reason I’m helping you is because I still want the amulet and you are going to help me get it back.”

“I’m not involved anymore. I gave the amulet to the goblins.”

“There’s something of an uneasy truce between the fairies and the goblins. To go to war with each other would be fruitless. It’s unclear who would win. But now you have tipped the scales. The fairies are going to be very unhappy with you when they learn you gave the amulet to the goblins.”

She shivered, remembering her grandmother’s story of the girl found dead with her mouth full of ribbons. “How will they know what I’ve done?”

“I’ll tell them of course.”

“You’re going to tell them?”

“I’m not your friend, Raiden. The only reason I helped you just now is because it was to my benefit. The only side I’m on is my own. I can’t wait to see what the fairies are going to do to you. They won’t just kill you. They’ll want to play with you first and make you suffer. I think they’ll start with public humiliation.”

“Why do you all want the amulet so badly?”

Lazare settled back against the seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “Before the angels fell, before the demons ruled, before men walked the earth, great creatures ruled this world. You cannot conceive how long ago this was. The greatest of those creatures were the dragons. They were the first creatures in this world. They were here longer than anything. When the great ones - the archdemons - fell, not even they could kill them, so they bound the dragons deep within the earth. They say they cause volcanoes and earthquakes as they move in their sleep.”

“What does that have to do with the amulet?”

“Supposedly, it can wake them.”

She sat absorbing his words. “But why would anyone want to wake the dragons? They would destroy the world.”

During the dark ages of Britain, it was said that a dragon terrorised the country until it was finally slain by Saint George. It was not even believed to be a dragon, and yet it had plunged the country into centuries of darkness.

“They don’t want to wake them. They just want to have the power to wake them,” Lazare said, his voice impatient.

“You all want the amulet, but you don’t intend to use it?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The Inquisition and the rest of the world would be so afraid of you using it; they would do whatever you wanted. It would give you absolute power over them.”

The door of the carriage opened. With no windows, she hadn’t realised they had reached the school. Lazare cursed as sunlight flooded in. He held the mask up to his face. “Next time, warn me before you open the door, you fool.”

“Yes, master,” the strange little man said. Raiden didn’t think he sounded very sorry.

There was little sunlight now. Another hour and it would be night. 

Raiden went to climb out, but Lazare grabbed her arm, stopping her. “The day I followed you from the boarding house, there was a boy with you with white hair.”

“You mean the one you were so frightened of,” she teased. Lazare’s sombre face made her smile vanish. “You
were
frightened of him. But why? He’s just a boy.”

“Is that what he told you he was?”

“What do you know about him?” Raiden asked.

“It’s not for me to tell you. You should ask yourself, what would frighten a vampire?” He released her and sat back. “Remember what I said,” Lazare called as she stepped down from the carriage. “We cannot allow the amulet to remain with the goblins. And I don’t think you will survive very long if the fairies declare you their enemy. You should help me get it back.”

The servant clambered back onto the box and the horses moved away. She watched them go until they were out of sight. People moved as far away from the carriage as possible as it passed, as if they somehow knew that whatever was inside wasn’t human.

****

Raiden slipped carefully up the stairs to her room, anxious at being caught by one of the teachers. Girls passed her on the stairs, but they paid her no attention. They were all in the lower years; they wouldn’t think to question where she had been. 

Cassade’s door was ajar. She sat at her dressing table with one of Lord Grimwood’s journals open before her, winding a strand of her golden brown hair around a finger. “Where have you been? You’ve been gone all day,” she said as Raiden came in.

“Did Aren come here?” Raiden asked. She needed to find him to check that Matherson hadn’t hurt him.

“I haven’t seen him.” Cassade closed her book. “Mrs Lynch was asking where you were.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I said you weren’t feeling well.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to tell me where you went?” she called as Raiden turned to leave.

Raiden paused. “I’ll explain later. I have to find Aren.”

Her room was in semi darkness. No one had lit the candles. She untied the pouches of bones and ashes from her waist and put them on the mantelpiece. It was pointless carrying them with her now. Her ghosts were gone.

The room seemed emptier without them and colder somehow. She was used to their silent presence. Over the years, her father’s visits had become less and less frequent. Her mother was dead and her aunt had long ago stopped bothering with her, while her grandmother was cold and distant. Her ghosts were the one constant thing she could depend on to be there for her. The only thing.

And now they were gone.

She took off her coat and gloves and unpinned her hat. It seemed everyone left her eventually or stopped caring. Deg crawled out from his hiding place under her bed. She was glad to see he had made it back from the museum unharmed.

She pulled the cover from the mirror and sat down at her dressing table facing it. “Aren Feralis,” she said.

The surface faded to black. Slowly, an image appeared of his office. It was empty. She tried again. “Aren Feralis.”