Bound (23 page)

Alex could feel more, understand more. He got how it worked, building up in him until the fury became overwhelming, unignorable. The power was almost cyclic, suppressed every time Silhouette helped him to vent that rage in another direction, like a pressure cooker valve releasing boiling steam. Only this time he’d done it with the Darak. It still churned, not nearly as quelled as when Sil gave him release, but denied enough for now. It would be back sooner, stronger, but he’d bought himself some time.
I will survive you
, he thought at the book and slammed the covers closed.

Its wrath swelled through him as he slipped it away, out of sight. He locked his wards back down into the normal, familiar pattern he was used to, concealing his fast-growing magic as easily as nudity concealed by a long coat. There was no question this trapped entity was awesome. No question it could destroy him, consume him. But with Silhouette’s help, with his own growing ability, perhaps he could make good on his words. He would certainly need the entire Darak. With two thirds of it, he could barely hold off the inevitable. To beat it he needed more. If they came up empty in Rome, he had no idea what to do.

Silhouette reached over, squeezed his hand. ‘We’ll find it,’ she whispered, reading his mind. Maybe just reading his face.

‘I hope so. I really hope so.’

Ten kids huddled in the corner of the small room, seven Cub Scouts, two little girls and one boy no older than four. They hugged their knees, rocking. Tears flowed from many, all faces pale, haunted. Hood and Sparks stood with their backs to the door as Curly and Higgs kept guard outside. An icy breeze pushed in through the open window, a square of blackness in the far wall. Sparks huddled closer to Hood, trying not to catch the eyes of any whimpering child.

‘What time is it?’ she whispered.

‘Two minutes to midnight, by my watch.’

Hood stared at the window, expression blank. Sparks knew there was a level of terror somewhere deep inside him and that scared her more than anything else. Regardless of all the crazy stuff Hood had done over the years, he’d always been in absolute control. Or at least he’d seemed to be. That was good enough for her. But talking to those horrible things in the cave she’d seen his fear. Pressed against him now, she could feel it. If Hood was scared, perhaps he had gone too far.

A hissing cold swept the room, sharper than the autumn air already blowing in. The children fell silent, their eyes, like hers, turning to the window. A dull bluish glow edged the wooden frame and dark tendrils of something scrabbled around the edges. Young voices cried out as the tendrils became fingers, then hands and arms, followed by lank, black hair and long, leering faces. The Sisters crawled through the aperture like four-legged spiders, one over the sill, one around the edge, one from above, slipping around the top of the frame as easily as a lizard scales a wall. They swarmed around the inside wall briefly, seeming to number more than three, before dropping to the ground in swaying, insectile crouches, hissing, licking the air. The children screamed, tears flooding from all eyes. Hood stiffened.

‘So, you …’

‘… have delivered …’

‘… as we asked!’

Hood sucked a quick breath, clearly steeling himself. ‘I have, as I said I would. There’s even a bonus child.’

The Sisters stretched, craning thin, ragged necks, bobbing up and down as they counted. Long fingers marked out the offerings one by one and they turned to face each other in a tight circle and cackled. Fast, guttural words flashed between them. A wave of unease passed over Sparks, a sense of dread beyond the terror she already felt. Her loins trembled icily, her stomach fluttered.

‘I trust all is as you require,’ Hood said, his voice betraying his own concerns.

‘Oh yes …’

‘… this is …’

‘… more than perfect.’

‘Good, good. What should I do now?’

The Sisters skittered across the room to duck and weave before the terrified children. The kids shrank back, wailing, hugging each other, trying to compress themselves away to nothing in the corner of the room.

‘Nothing …’

‘… until we take …’

‘… your tribute.’

Hood and Sparks stepped back, checking up hard against the door, as the Sisters fell upon the young like dogs on trapped rabbits. They each stood, grasping a child by the shoulders, pulling them up from the floor. They hung terrified like rag dolls, urine staining their clothes, tears and sobs pouring from them. The Sisters stared hard at the eyes of the victim they held, long black tongues flickering. Their yellow eyes turned black and emanated a dark blue light slowly, like oil across the space between them. As the light hit, connecting their eyes, the small form arched in their grip, legs kicking feebly, their cries becoming weak, muffled.

Each child began to blacken and crease, their very substance disappearing as the darkening skin sucked tight against bones. Their faces shrank, stretching like leather across bared teeth, eye sockets and cheekbones rising like rocks from a draining lake. Their cries cut quiet as the screams of those remaining intensified. The Sisters seemed less grey and drawn, less skeletal and lank.

The others broke and ran, scurrying around the room. Hood dove for the window, screaming at Sparks. ‘Cover the door, let none leave!’

He reached the window at the same time as two kids, caught one as he threw himself out. He dragged the thrashing child back into the room with a grunt of effort, pushing the second to the ground with a kick.

Sparks pressed herself against the door, covering the handle as children pulled and tore at her, pleading with her to release them.

A banging against her back, Curly’s voice. ‘What’s going on in there?’

‘It’s okay. Just make sure this door stays shut!’

She heard a bump as Curly clamped a grip on the doorhandle from the other side, presumably pulling against it to keep it closed. There were more screams, cut short, as those near her were plucked away. Her mind raged at her,
What the fuck have I done?

Unable to bear it, yet unable to ignore it, she turned to look. Six tiny, black, desiccated corpses littered the floor. The Dark Sisters held three more aloft, rapidly draining. One last little girl sat frozen in the corner, eyes and mouth wide in horror, a thin, high scream piercing the air. The six blackened corpses had become nine and the Sisters had become young, beautiful, graceful, with flowing, lustrous hair, one blonde, one brunette, one redhead. They were glory incarnate, basking in the glow of their transformation. They turned to face the last child.

‘Now what about you?’ Blonde said, smiling like a favourite aunt.

Brunette laughed, a lovely, tinkling sound. ‘The extra one, unexpected.’

‘She can’t be wasted,’ said Red.

Sparks shivered more violently than ever. For some reason, seeing them normal like this, hearing them talk in complete sentences, seemed more terrifying than anything she’d seen so far.

They advanced on the remaining child, crouched before her. She sat frozen, even her trembling stopped, the sound whistling from her throat faded to nothing. The Dark Sisters leaned forward, radiating blue light once more. Slowly, more slowly than the others, lasciviously drawn out, the young girl shrank in on herself, crumpling into a pile of bones, covered tight with thin blackened parchment that moments before had been freckled, strawberry skin.

The Sisters turned to Hood, still guarding the window. He swallowed hard, unable to prevent his eyes roaming up and down their naked perfection.

‘You like?’ Blonde asked.

‘I think he much prefers us this way, judging by the swell at his crotch,’ Red said.

‘I’m sorry,’ Hood stammered, trying to look away, failing. ‘I’m overwhelmed. Truly, you are more than I expected.’

‘Such a nice man,’ Brunette purred. ‘I think he’s found a new respect for us, the man who delivered ten.’

Hood’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Sparks’s mind swept with revulsion and pity. On one hand she couldn’t blame him for reacting as he did, these women so lovely and bare. But he knew as well as she did what they were, what they’d just done, what existed beneath the skin. Her nerves screamed with foreboding. This was wrong, everything about it utterly wrong.

‘I have every respect for you,’ Hood said, regaining some of his trademark confidence. ‘I trust our deal is sealed.’

‘Sealed?’ asked Blonde. ‘Oh yes, it’s definitely sealed.’

‘So what would you have us do?’ asked Red.

‘I need you to track down and kill a human and a Kin and deliver to me whatever magical items they’re carrying. Can you do that?’

‘Of course,’ said Brunette. ‘You’ve bound us and tasked us, so we must do as you ask. Are you sure you really want these things?’

‘Most definitely.’

‘Always get exactly what you want, don’t you?’ said Blonde, a smile pulling at her full lips. ‘Quite a powerful human, no?’

Hood drew a shuddering breath, trying to keep his eyes above the neck, failing again. ‘Certainly, at whatever cost.’

‘And where are these two you would have us hunt?’ Brunette asked.

Hood raised one finger. ‘Let me check how far they’ve got.’ He scrabbled in the pocket of his jacket, pulled out a phone.

The Sisters, bored, turned to Sparks. An invisible hand thumped deep in her gut as their gaze fell on her. She watched them nervously, eyes flicking from one to the next.

‘Love him, do you?’ said Blonde, nodding towards Hood.

Sparks, tongue dry in her throat, managed a strangled affirmative.

‘Follow him anywhere, would you?’ asked Red.

Sparks nodded, dragging that tongue over her teeth. ‘He’s been good to me,’ she managed.

The Sisters cast sidelong glances at each other, smiling enigmatically.

Hood’s voice interrupted. ‘Jackson? Update, please.’ He listened, making occasional grunts. Without another word he hung up, turned back to the Sisters. ‘They’re on a plane to Rome, apparently. I have a planesbird following. They’re due to arrive in about seven hours. Can you get there? Find them?’

Blonde laughed, tipping her head back. ‘Oh, Mr Hood, we can get anywhere.’

‘Do anything,’ Red said.

‘To anyone,’ Brunette said, staring hard at Sparks.

‘And a human and Kin travelling together should be easy to spot,’ Blonde added.

Hood slipped his phone away. ‘Can I arrange anything for you? Clothes, travel, anything?’

Blonde shook her head.

‘How will I stay in contact with you?’

She stepped close, gripped Hood’s head between her palms. He arched back, a moan of ecstasy or agony, hard to tell which, slipped past his lips. When she let go he dropped to his knees, quickly staggered back to his feet.

‘You feel me now?’ Blonde asked.

‘Yes, yes,’ he stammered.

‘Yes. Lucky you.’

‘So you’ll go to Rome? Let me know any news as soon as you have it?’

Blonde tipped her head to one side, looking at him almost lovingly. Almost predatory. She raised one hand, flicking a finger at him to move. As he sidled away from the window, a cold burst of air pushed through the room and the Dark Sisters were gone. A sensation of incredible drag pulled Sparks’s clothes briefly.

She slumped against the door, sliding down, dropping her face into her hands. Sobs racked her, chest heaving as shock pulsed through, finally released. Hood came over, slipped an arm around her trembling shoulders.

‘That was more intense than I anticipated,’ he said quietly.

Sparks just sobbed, not trying to control herself. She had never felt such dread or seen such atrocity, even during her many years with Hood. She couldn’t help feeling that things would never be the same again.

‘Curly and his boys can clean up,’ Hood said, presumably referring to the shrunken corpses.

‘Get me out of here, please,’ Sparks managed, voice muffled by tear-soaked palms.

Hood stood with her, keeping an arm across her shoulders. He banged on the door with his free hand. ‘Curly, open up. Let us out, please.’

The door clicked, swung open. Curly stood framed by soft orange light from the corridor. His gaze slipped past Hood and Sparks, his eyes widening as he scanned the room behind them. ‘Fuckin’ hell.’

Hood stepped by him, leading Sparks. ‘I need you to sort this out,’ he said as they passed Curly. ‘Somewhere they’ll never be found.’

‘Righto. I’ll see to it.’

Hood put a hand out, stopping Curly from entering the room. ‘I’m serious, Curly. Absolutely, under no circumstances,
ever
found.’

‘Yes, sir. Don’t worry. These will be dust by morning.’

‘Good man. Thanks. You’ve really earned your money this time.’

Curly barked a humourless laugh. ‘Fucking right I have.’

Alex and Sil stepped off a grimy train into the bustle of Rome’s Termini station. Vast atrium ceilings, pale brick and glossy tiles reflected light from high windows and higher fluorescents. They trudged with the crowd, emerging onto a sun-soaked street busy with impatient traffic. Alex stretched, basking in the warmth. ‘Man, autumn in the Mediterranean is a vast improvement on everywhere else I’ve been recently,’ he said to the sky.

Sil smiled. ‘You’re spoilt where you come from.’

‘Spoilt or burned to a crisp? It can get a bit extreme in Australia sometimes. Still, I’ll take it over a northern European autumn or winter any time.’ He stopped, staring hard into the pastel blue. Something moved up there, glowing with magesign, making loops and whorls against the clear sky. ‘What’s that?’

Silhouette followed his gaze. ‘What’s what?’

He put one arm around her shoulders, drawing her close, pointing with the other hand. ‘Up there, really high. It’s tiny, but definitely there, you can see the ’sign.’

Sil squinted, eyes straining along the line of Alex’s index finger. ‘Hmm. There’s something there, but I can’t focus on it. Can you see it clearly?’

‘Not really. I think it’s watching us.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Dunno. I can feel it. Let’s get somewhere quieter.’

‘In Rome?’

Alex headed away from the busy station. They walked a few blocks, always turning down the emptier-looking street or alleyway, slipping between tall pale buildings, hanging with ivy or blackened by city grime. Something about the thing in the sky filled Alex with trepidation. He couldn’t explain why, but he felt a strong connection to it now he’d spotted it and knew, intrinsically, that it meant him harm. It looped high above them. He stopped, scanning ochre buildings on either side of the thin street, wooden shutters open like wide eyes, drawing autumn sun into apartments. No one seemed to be looking out their windows, the street empty. ‘Keep an eye out,’ he said.

Silhouette watched him anxiously. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m going to bring this down.’

‘How?’

Alex ignored the question. He pictured the air around the thing high above without looking up. He could sense it, hovering over them. He gripped the stone through his shirt, drawing on it. He was learning all the time how to control and channel the incredible power. He ignored the anger and displeasure of Uthentia, concentrated on the Darak, the air, the flying presence. Magic surged from it.

Silhouette gasped. ‘I see it clearly now, some kind of creature. What are you doing?’

Alex locked his mind around the magic that encased the thing and took control of the air around it. He spun the air into a vortex, a tiny whirlwind spinning the surprised being like a top. ‘It’s trying to escape!’ he hissed.