Gallows at Twilight (11 page)

‘Fair enough,’ the ghostly manager had conceded. ‘But I expect
great
things, Mr Harker, and so will my guests. Many will have travelled a long way to see you—if you disappoint them … Well, we’ve had bloodshed in the square before.’

Jake put off thinking about the prospect of being pulled limb from limb by hordes of disgruntled monsters. He kept his attention focused solely upon his father’s cure. He told Adam that he spent his days practising magic in quiet corners. In fact, he was scouring the many occult libraries that lie hidden in the old city of London. Pandora had already investigated most of them. She provided Jake with a list and, on some occasions, would accompany him to these strange, crumbling buildings tucked away down side alleys or secreted under the earth. Most of the time, however, she was too busy caring for Adam. And so, after two weeks of mouldy books and fantastical librarians, what did Jake have to show for his research?

Nothing. It seemed that Pandora was right—there was
no
cure.

At the end of another exhausting day, a footsore Jake slouched back to the Grimoire Club. Grimy from the dust of old tomes, he wanted a shower, but decided to cheer himself up by dropping in on Simon first. The friends had quickly fallen back into their old routine of jokes and banter. Still, that haunted expression had not left Simon’s eyes, and he often woke in the night believing that he had heard his mother’s voice. Adam had continued their hypnosis sessions but with no real success. It seemed that Simon’s secrets would remain hidden.

Jake knocked on the bedroom door and walked in.

He was about to make some lame joke when he saw Simon and Rachel sitting together cross-legged on the bed. Their eyes were closed and they were holding hands. Their breathing came in steady waves. Although he knew that they were just practising one of the control techniques Simon used to master his ‘other self’, Jake felt a twist of jealousy.

They came out of the trance together and a smile flashed between them. Then Rachel noticed Jake in the doorway.

‘Hey,’ she said, getting awkwardly off the bed. ‘Any luck today?’

‘Nope.’ Jake slumped into a chair. ‘If you’re under a gypsy curse, suffering from lycanthropy, eaten a devil’s-head mushroom by moonlight or are being plagued by poltergeists, then come see me, I’ll know what to do. But if you’ve been hexed by a coven master? Sorry, can’t help.’

‘That’s it,’ Simon said. ‘Tomorrow, we’re coming with you. Three heads might be better than one.’

‘Mate, are you sure?’

They all knew Simon’s fear: that his demon half might suddenly take over. That he would transform in a public place.

‘The control techniques are working, I can feel it.’ That familiar, crooked smile faltered. ‘Anyway, Dr Harker, he’s— well, he’s—’

‘Getting worse,’ Jake sighed.

‘If there’s a cure, we’ll find it, Jake. Tomorrow we’ll—’

‘Why wait for tomorrow?’ Rachel interrupted. ‘We can start work tonight.’

‘Strange as it sounds, occult libraries seem to keep regular hours,’ Jake yawned. ‘They’ll all be closed.’

‘The ones in London, yes, but what about the one just along the corridor? The private library of the Grimoire Club?’

‘Come on, Rach, don’t you think I’ve thought of that? Murdles won’t let humans into the library. Anyway,’ Jake gave a wry smile, ‘the door’s always locked.’

‘Can’t you use magic to open it?’

‘Tried. It must have a spell guarding it.’

‘Maybe it’s not magically sealed at all,’ Simon said. ‘Maybe it’s just a simple lock. And if that’s the case, I could be your man.’

They had all heeded Murdles’s warning about wandering the corridors alone at night. Simon had not yet left the apartment, and Jake and Rachel had always been escorted in and out of the club by Razor or one of the other doormen. This was the first time they had ventured into Grimoire alone. Before they left the safety of the apartment, Rachel retrieved the bow and quiver from her room.

Jake eased open the apartment door and peeked into the corridor.

‘All clear,’ he whispered.

The three friends crept into the hallway. Reaching the library door, Simon dropped to his knees and planted an eye on the keyhole. He took two straightened paperclips from his pocket and started jiggling them inside the lock.

‘Simon … um … how do you know this stuff?’

‘Best not to ask, Rach.’ Simon winked. ‘Wouldn’t want you to think any less of me. Ah—got it!’

The lock clicked. Simon pocketed the paperclips, got to his feet and grasped the handle. He was about to turn it when a voice whispered behind their backs:

‘Can I help you?’

Jake gasped, Rachel shrieked, Simon barked out a swear word.

They turned to find Mr Murdles floating behind them. The friends stepped aside as Murdles came forward and pushed lightly against the library door.

‘I really wouldn’t enter the Grimoire Club’s library if I were you … ’

The door swung back to reveal a room the size of a broom cupboard. Two rickety bookshelves had been nailed to the wall and a mangy old mop was propped in one corner.

‘ … it really is such a
dull
room. Now, Mr Harker, I did ask you
not
to wander around my club unescorted.’

‘I’m sorry, sir.’

Murdles’s face softened. ‘Ah well, I cannot stay mad at my boy conjuror. Not when he has promised me such a spectacular show! But tell me, what are you doing here?’

Jake explained that they were hoping to find a book of magical cures. He told Murdles that he was concerned about his father’s health and had exhausted most of the occult libraries of London.

‘Dr Harker does look rather
deathly
, and I should know,’ the ghost laughed. A look from Jake mopped up the manager’s merriment. ‘Ahem, yes, well I cannot have my boy conjuror distracted from his magic. If you wish to find a cure you should stop hunting through boring old libraries. You must go and consult the Oracle.’

‘The who?’

‘The Great Seer of the borderland,’ Murdles said. ‘The Pythia Priestess. The Oracle of the Pit. If there is a cure for your father, she will tell you how to find it.’

‘And how can we find
her
?’ Rachel asked.

‘I will take you to her. The Oracle is my neighbour.’

Five minutes later, Jake, Rachel, Simon, and Mr Murdles had crossed the moonlit piazza and were standing inside the teardrop doorway—the road back to London. A cold desert wind howled through the tunnel like a mournful spirit.

‘Let there be light,’ Murdles said.

They lit the oil lanterns they had brought with them from the Grimoire Club. Three steady flames shone out; thumbprints of illumination in the unending darkness. They picked their way across the tunnel floor, a rough terrain of beaten earth pebbled with bricks that had fallen from the roof. High above, the lantern light touched the fingertips of the swaying tentacles.

Murdles led them to the pit that Jake had glimpsed on his first journey through the tunnel. It was circular, like a huge wishing well, with a low stone wall running around the outside. Carved around the wall was the legend:

‘I seldom have use for signs and prophecies,’ Murdles said, ‘and so I leave you here.’

The ghost floated towards the pale-eyed doorway.

‘But what do we do?’ Jake shouted.

His question boomed around the tunnel and made the tentacles rustle.

‘You can read, can’t you?’ Murdles said irritably.

The ghost drifted away.

Jake turned to Simon and Rachel. ‘I don’t like this. You guys go back to the club.’

‘You don’t get rid of us that easy,’ Simon grunted. ‘Anyway, I owe you a death-defying rescue. You get into trouble, I’ll be there.’

‘Rachel—’ Jake began.

‘Come on, boy conjuror,’ she said, jumping up onto the wall, ‘let’s go see the Seer.’

Rachel leaned over the edge of the pit, lantern held at arm’s length. The well plunged down beyond the range of her light. Slick with moss, a narrow staircase descended in a spiral around the inner wall. This was their path to the Oracle.

‘There’s something down there,’ Rachel said.

Jake joined her on the wall. Far below, shapeless forms moved in the shadows.

‘I saw them when we first flew over. What do you think they are?’

‘A welcoming committee,’ said Simon. ‘Well, let’s not keep them waiting.’

Jake stepped off the lip of stone and into the jaws of the pit. The smell of stagnant water and rotting vegetation rose up and made him splutter. With one hand tracing the damp wall, the other pushing the lantern forward, Jake started the descent. Round and round, he spiralled down, Rachel behind him, Simon bringing up the rear. Each well-worn step crumbled a little beneath his foot and there were places where two or three had collapsed completely. At those points, Jake and his friends were forced to jump across tiny chasms, hoping that the step on the other side would hold.

Halfway down, Simon lost his footing on the wet stone. He slipped and teetered at the edge of the staircase. Rachel heard his cry, spun round and grabbed his hand, pulling him back from the brink. Simon panted his thanks.

It had taken almost twenty minutes, but they were now nearing the end of their journey. The stench of filthy water was stronger here at the base of the abyss. Three metres or so from the bottom, Jake craned his lantern over the staircase.

Thhhsssss—Thhhseeesss—Thhhuusss

Hooded eyes flashed in the light.

Snakes. Dozens of them. And yet like no serpents Jake had ever seen.

Gigantic in size, they writhed across the dirt floor, their bodies tangled in one great slithering mass. At the sight of the strangers, forty heads lashed towards the stairs. They swayed together, just below the step upon which Jake stood. Forked tongues sizzled and venom dripped from the corners of hungry mouths. What struck Jake as particularly strange was the skin of these reptiles. Instead of scales, they had spongy, pale flesh that appeared transparent in the lantern light. Jake could see the throb of blue veins, the beat of red hearts and the flutter of monstrous lungs. Inside the prison of their long stomachs a hundred spiders and rats slowly decomposed. These sun-starved creatures must have been born in the darkness, Jake thought.

‘Maybe we should get out of here,’ Simon said.

Jake nodded, and they began to retreat back up the staircase.

Suddenly, one of the smaller snakes separated from the rest and darted up the stairs. It twisted its powerful body this way and that, finding purchase on the wet stones. Jake had no time to react. The serpent was on him in seconds. Its tongue lashed out and venom jetted from its throat. One of the poison sprays hit the lantern and ate right through the glass. Jake dropped the light. Stumbled backwards. The snake lashed out again, fangs bared. Before it could land a strike, Rachel had loaded her bow and loosed an arrow. Piercing the serpent’s throat, the arrow pinned the snake to the pit wall.

‘Jake!’

Simon’s hand shot out, but he was too late.

His face long with horror, Jake slipped off the step and tumbled into the pit.

Chapter 10

The Serpent Inside

Jake hit the ground with a bone-juddering crack. Behind the roar of pain, he could just about hear the frightened cries of his friends.

‘Get up! Move!’

‘Jake, hurry!’

Arrows
thwwpped
through the air and kicked up the dust all around. Jake rolled over onto his hands and knees and blinked the pit into focus.

An undulating forest of long white bodies reared up before him. A pit of snakes, poised to strike. Why had Murdles led them down here? Had he figured out that Jake had no real magic? Was this his revenge?

Magic. It was worth a try.

Jake held out his hand and concentrated on the flow of power. He thought of his mother, his father, Marcus Crowden, witches, demons …

Blue shocks crackled between his fingers. Some of the snakes scuttled back, frightened by the magical energy. An older and perhaps wiser serpent held its ground. It towered over the boy and its cruel, black eyes seemed to mirror Jake’s thoughts—
it’s weak, it’s not enough.
The snake’s mouth yawned wide. A hiss fizzled over its forked tongue.

One of Rachel’s arrows missed its mark by inches and sailed past the serpent. There was no time for her to reload. Simon cursed and threw his lantern at the snake. Another miss.

The white body arched. The head drew back. Lips curled over a pair of venom-drenched fangs.

The snake launched its strike.

‘STOP!’

An invisible force reached out and dashed the snake to the far side of the pit. Its gigantic body twisted through the air and struck the wall so hard that it exploded on impact. Jake saw the snake’s huge head disappear in a mist of blood and brains. One eye, still attached to its stalk, ricocheted off the wall and bounced across the ground like a wet marble. It rolled to a stop at Jake’s feet.

The other snakes fell back. They slithered to the middle of the pit and disappeared into a large crack in the earth.

It was only now, with the abyss empty, that Jake saw the child.