Half Lost (6 page)

Against Anyone Normal They'd Be Lethal

Greatorex leads us out of the camp. There must be about twenty of us. Everyone is helping carry a load. Even Donna has a large rucksack on her back, though I notice her hands are zip-tied in front of her. We troop out in a line. The idea is to go through a cut, which has already been set up, and once through it we close it behind us, leaving this camp with no cuts, no links to any of the other camps. As Greatorex says, “It's served its purpose.”

I like Greatorex. Some people would blame me and say, “We'd not have to move if it wasn't for Nathan,” but Greatorex doesn't see it like that. She knows that things will always be changing and moving is part of her job.

I drop to the back and then stop and listen for Hunters. It would be like them to attack while we're vulnerable, concentrating on other things. But I hear nothing. I put my load down and run back to check along my trail for a few minutes. I know Greatorex has had her people check and recheck it too, but it can't do any harm to have a final look.

Nothing.

I retrieve my load and catch up with the group as they disappear through the cut. Greatorex waits until we're all
through and goes last. Few people can make cuts. Only one person can do it for the Alliance now. Marcus had the ability but I've no idea how to access that Gift. Anyway, closing cuts doesn't require a Gift or even any magic, just a small explosion.

When we're through, Greatorex unpins a hand grenade and Gabriel and I hold her left arm as she slides her right hand and the grenade into the cut. The cut pulls her but we dig our heels in and pull her back as she lets the grenade slide out of her hand. It will explode when it's still inside the cut; within a few seconds the cut loses its magic and fades to nothing.

We check and the cut is gone.

* * *

Within hours the new Camp Three is set up and everything is organized and as if we've been here for days. Greatorex and Celia had the location already decided. Greatorex is professional and calm but I can sense the trainees are on edge and, unlike her, they seem to blame me. It's something about the way they huddle together and sneak looks at me. Greatorex senses it too, I think. She keeps them busy with chores: setting up tents, scouting the surrounding area, cooking. Then in the late afternoon she decides on a bit of training: fighting.

Me and Gabriel watch the hand-to-hand fighting class. Donna is watching too, sitting opposite us, her hands still zip-tied together.

Greatorex takes a break and comes to stand with us to
view her pupils. I ask her, “What's happening with Donna?”

“She says she wants to join the Alliance but, since BB, Celia's given strict instructions that anyone wanting to join has to be questioned under a truth potion.”

“And what are the results?”

“We don't have any potion. I've sent word back to Camp One that we need some, but until then she's a prisoner.”

“But what does your gut instinct tell you? Is she genuine or a spy?”

“I like her. She's got a positive attitude. She's intelligent, quick, and not at all cocky. She likes you, though, which does make me wonder about her judgment.”

“Very funny.”

“Actually, I think she has good judgment. She sticks up for you.”

I wonder to whom she sticks up for me.

Greatorex nods toward the trainees, saying, “They're looking better, don't you think?”

“Yeah, better. But they're still slow and soft.”

“I think they could take you now in a straight fight.”

I shake my head.

“Try them? It'll be good for them. Four of my best against you. Just don't kill anyone.”

“If those four win against me I'll kill myself.”

Greatorex smiles. “OK then. Those four and me against you.”

Greatorex is a good fighter, almost as good as Celia. I
shake my head and say, “I don't want to hurt you, Greatorex.”

“I'll heal. So will you. Not scared of a few trainees and an ex-Hunter, are you?” Greatorex is thin and delicate- looking, but also fast, tough, and lethal, and very smart.

I look to Gabriel, saying, “What do you think?”

“I hope they kick your butt.”

“Pick your team then,” I say to Greatorex.

She rubs her hands and calls out, “Sophie, Scott, Adele, Kirsty.”

They walk over to her. I recognize Kirsty as she's huge, slow, and strong. Scott is toned and fast, as is Sophie. Adele must have come from one of the other Alliance camps as I've not seen her before. Greatorex gives them a pep talk, basically saying that she'll attack me first and they have to back her up with everything they've got while I'm busy with her. When she's finished her little speech I say to her so that they can all hear, “You haven't told them what to do once I kill you.”

Greatorex smiles and says, “When you're begging for mercy I'll remind you of that.” The trainees nod and try to look tough.

I move to the middle, encouraging them to come behind me, which they think will help them. They'll think getting behind me is the way to beat me, but I'll be moving too fast. My main problem is going to be not hurting anyone too badly.

“No Gifts,” Greatorex says to me. “No going invisible.”
We've trained together like that and it is just too easy for me.

“No guns, no knives,” I reply. “And no truncheons.” I know her tricks.

“Course not—what do you think we are?” she says, holding her arms out as if to show she's unarmed.

I beckon her forward and the others move round.

Celia has taught me great technique, and she's taught it to Greatorex too, but I'm stronger, bigger, and faster than she is. If I can knock her out quickly the other trainees will drop like flies. I hope none of them run. I'm tougher on the ones that run.

Greatorex moves back and I move forward and then suddenly the trainees rush at me all together. Greatorex's pep talk must all have been a ruse; they have planned this. I knock Scott out with a blow to the face and Adele with my elbow to her face a split second later, but then my kidneys explode with pain and I drop and heal at the same time. I try to roll away but I'm stopped by someone landing on my legs and Greatorex kicks my face.

I taste blood, a bit of tooth loose in my mouth, and then I'm healed and grabbing at Greatorex but she's moved out of the way, so I twist to hammer-blow the girl grappling with my legs. There's more kicking to my back and I twist to grab that leg and snap it to the side. I know I've broken it from the sound and the scream. Then I'm on my feet and there's just Greatorex and the biggest girl, Kirsty, left—though Adele is getting back up. I feint to Kirsty, but then jump
and kick at Greatorex. She's quick, though, and dodges to the side so I barely catch the side of her face. Kirsty comes at me from behind, which is a good move, and wraps her arms round me, which isn't—I snap my head back to break her nose. She still doesn't let me go, so I do it again and at the same time heel her in the shin. She drops. Then I turn to Adele as she's up now and coming at me, so I punch her face again but this time, as my fist flies forward, I see her face change color and then there's an excruciating pain in my hand as it slams into her metallic jaw. I must've broken a few fingers. I drop back and heal. Adele is smirking and her face changes back from shiny gray to her normal pale skin.

“What happened to the no-Gifts rule?” I shout.

Adele shrugs.

I shrug back, saying, “Let's see what happens if I send lightning to you.”

Greatorex runs between us shouting, “No! No Gifts. Adele is still learning to control hers. She—”

I kick at Greatorex, connecting with the side of her head and sending her sprawling. “No rule against talking about using them, is there?”

That leaves me and Adele. I spin and kick out at Adele and she turns gray again. My foot feels like it's kicked a car. I heal and feint a punch to see if she turns gray. She does and then she tries to hit me but she's too slow and I grab her arm and throw her to the ground on her stomach, pulling her head back. I see now that her skin is like metal, but after
a few seconds the color fades and she's vulnerable. So I put her in a stranglehold and her face changes color again but this time it's red. Her Gift isn't working now.

She bangs on the ground to indicate she's surrendering and I stand, telling her, “Stay down.” But she starts to get up and I see she's really mad. I've not noticed before but her eyes are those of a Black Witch, and she's definitely angry enough for one. She lashes out at me, turning gray, but again it only lasts for a few seconds and when she's back to normal I punch her in the face, hard. She wobbles and then goes down on her backside, blood running from her nose.

“If you could control that Gift it would be pretty handy,” I tell her.

I turn to look around me. Greatorex is standing now, holding her hands up in defeat. She says, “OK. You win, Nathan. No more.” She looks at the groaning bodies on the ground, saying, “Though I still think they've improved.”

“Yeah, against anyone normal they'd be lethal.”

The voice comes from the trees and I look over and Nesbitt is there, grinning at me.

Blood Lust

The beautiful blonde Black Witch lights her cigarette and then throws the lighter to me. It's good to have a cigarette now and again, especially one of hers. The smoke I inhale is deliciously thick, with the flavor of blueberries, and I blow out a long plume of heavy violet smoke and watch it hover above my head and fade to nothing. I didn't use to trust Van enough to smoke her stuff, but these are no stronger than tobacco and taste better.

Van says, “I believe you attacked a group of Hunters, Nathan.”

“They're the enemy. Isn't that what we're supposed to do?”

“You're supposed to follow orders. There were no orders to attack.”

“I stumbled across them. Seemed like a good opportunity. I didn't have time to get permission.”

“You know you wouldn't have got permission if you'd sought it.”

We're sitting in the center of the new Camp Three with Nesbitt, Gabriel, and Greatorex. Van's an expert at potions and I assume she's here to mix up a truth potion for Donna, though so far there's been no mention of that and the conversation is more on me.

Van continues. “You risk your life and the lives of others for a few Hunters. Your attacks do little but satisfy your lust for blood.”

“Nothing'll satisfy that,” Nesbitt mutters from behind.

“I took a risk and it paid off.”

“We'd rather you didn't take the risk.”

“We all risk being killed at any time. We might all be dead by this time tomorrow. If I choose to attack some of them, that's up to me.”

Van shakes her head and looks to Gabriel. He says, “Nathan takes calculated risks and wouldn't endanger anyone else.” And somehow it feels worse that he's covering for me when I know he doesn't approve of my attacks.

“Well, calculated or not,” continues Van, “if they carry on, the likelihood is that you will get killed, Nathan. And we need you for a bigger purpose.”

“Yeah?” I say. So maybe this is the real point of her visit.

“The longer the war goes on, the stronger Soul gets. He is drawing more White Witch councils from Europe under his influence. We're still trying to recruit from all sections of the witch community, but after our defeat at Bialowieza—well, it's hard.” She glances at me and draws heavily on her cigarette before blowing out a stream of lilac smoke. “And there's another factor holding people back. They don't see the point in joining the fight when they believe you'll kill Soul in any case. Rumors are circulating that some witches have had visions of you doing that. Personally, I'm not sure
if they're visions or desperate hopes. But everyone knows that you took your father's Gifts.”

“So it's all down to me? Is that what you believe too, Van?”

“If you do have your father's Gifts and can control them, then you are stronger than Soul.”

“Soul alone,” I say. “Not Soul and hundreds of Hunters.”

“Soul knows you're the last real threat to him,” says Nesbitt. “That's why he's sending messages out about the amnesty. Not that anyone believes he'd stick to his promises.”

“What amnesty?” I ask.

Nesbitt grins. “You haven't heard? Anyone would think you've been living under a stone, mate.”

Van says, “Two weeks ago, Soul announced an amnesty for everyone in the Alliance and that all Alliance prisoners will be released—if we hand you over to him.”

“It's a tempting offer,” Nesbitt adds. “But I've told everyone that if they give you up I'll never speak to them again. That seems to have deterred them so far.”

There was a time, years ago, when Celia wouldn't have thought twice about killing me or letting me die, but now I know she'd never do that. There was also a time when Nesbitt's comment would have annoyed me. Now I blow smoke rings.

One of the trainees mutters something about the conditions the prisoners are kept in. I realize then that all the trainees are standing round, listening in. I wonder how
many of them would like to hand me over in exchange for an amnesty.

Nesbitt has heard the comment too and he looks over at the trainees and then says loud enough for all to hear, “Course you
could
give yourself up to Soul, Nathan. I know you'd love to help the prisoners, alleviate their suffering.”

I grind my cigarette butt into the ground, saying, “It wouldn't alleviate anything.” Maybe the prisoners would be released, but I doubt it, and the fact of Soul being in power would mean others would suffer. He'll never stop persecuting Black Witches or anyone who objects to his hold on power.

I can imagine the prisoners in the cells below the Council building, some in the same cell where I was held once, before I was tattooed. I was left in complete darkness, chained to the wall. I feel for any Black Witches among the prisoners—they'll suffer most being kept inside at night—but I know that giving myself up won't stop Soul's cruelty.

Van stands and says, “Walk with me, Nathan. I don't think we need an audience for this.”

I get up and she takes my arm in hers and we stroll away from camp. Gabriel and Nesbitt follow close behind.

“Soul wants you, Nathan. But I believe he'd rather have you alive than dead. The Council kept you in a cage and trained you to kill your father. As a plan, that was twisted enough, but I think Soul is even more ambitious now. I think he wants to turn you into his private assassin, to kill whomever he wishes.”

“Are people having visions about that too?”

“Not as far as I know. But it fits with his plan to control witches around the world. He'd love you to be his henchman. I've never met Soul, of course, but Celia knows him and you have met him too, I understand. Would he want that?”

My gut instinct says yes. I tell Van, “He wanted to give me three gifts on my seventeenth birthday. I always thought that was odd. Like he was making it personal.”

“Yes, I think it is personal to him. I don't think he needs you but he wants you. Partly ego, partly”—she shrugs—“obsession. You got away from him and he wants you back. But most of all he wants power. And he thinks having you will symbolize his strength.”

“Good job he hasn't got me then.”

“Exactly. But, unlike Soul, the Alliance is weak and vulnerable. Celia is working hard to keep morale up and training the few recruits we have, but for the time being our first priority is to keep safe. Keep our heads down. Not attack the Hunters. And not risk losing you. We need you, Nathan. If you die, the Alliance will be broken. You can't risk your life going after small groups of Hunters; that isn't the way to defeat Soul.” Van stops and stares at me. “Though I sense that isn't your top priority at the moment.”

I shrug.

She persists. “You're searching for Annalise?”

“What do you think? Because of her my father is dead. Because of her half the Alliance is dead.”

“What will you do if you find her?” Van asks.

I snort a laugh. “You mean, will I kill her quick or slow? I'm favoring quick at the moment but I'll have to see.”

Van takes a deep breath and pulls her cigarette case out of her jacket, offers me one and takes one herself. We smoke in silence for a minute before she asks, “Are you able to use any of the Gifts your father had?”

“You know, it's bad manners to ask a White Witch about their Gifts and I am half White, Van.”

She blows smoke in my face and says, “And I seem to lose my manners completely around you, Nathan.”

For some reason that makes me smile. “I'm working on them. My Gifts, I mean, not my manners.”

She looks like she's suppressing a grin and says, “With what results?”

“I can go invisible—that's working the best—and I can kill with lightning. I can breathe fire.” And to demonstrate I blow out a small smoke ring without the help of a cigarette.

“And controlling time?”

“I'm working on it but it's hard. But, you know, the smoke rings aren't that easy either.”

That actually does make her smile and then she blows a huge smoke ring and series of smaller ones to me.

I'm still not sure where this is all leading. “Do you believe the visions of me killing Soul, Van?”

“I don't need to believe in visions when I've got something better, something tangible that will enable you to kill Soul and will allow the Alliance to win.” She pauses for a long drag on her cigarette and then continues. “Even with
all your father's Gifts, you'll still be vulnerable. His own death must show you that. More important than mastering his Gifts, you need protection. You need something that will make you invulnerable, something that will keep you safe. You need the Vardian amulet.”

“OK. I admit I've no idea what that is.”

“It's an ancient and very powerful item. Believed to date back to the earliest days of witchcraft. All amulets protect those who hold them, but this one was something unique. It was created by a Black Witch called Vardia. Times were different then and Blacks and Whites lived together.” Van smiles, almost as if she can't believe it herself. “Vardia fell in love with a powerful man, Linus, a prince, some say, but he was also a White Witch. He had little magical power, though, and he wanted Vardia's protection. He told her he loved her and she created the amulet to protect him. He won many battles with the amulet pressed against his skin over his heart. He fought those stronger than himself but he was never hurt. He became more and more powerful. Linus was grateful to Vardia but he didn't truly love her and knew he never could. Eventually he grew tired of his deception and told Vardia the truth: that he didn't love her. He sent her away. But, despite his betrayal, Vardia still loved him and so, before she left, in desperation she ripped the amulet in two and gave Linus half, keeping half herself, saying that when he wanted her protection she would return, that he'd be safe when they and the amulet were reunited. But Linus never asked her to return and
he was killed in the next battle he fought.”

Of course I have once seen half an amulet. It wasn't a metal or jeweled ornament as I would have expected but a piece of worn, old parchment with strange writing on it laid out in a series of circles—well, semicircles because the parchment was ripped in half.

“The half of the amulet that Gabriel gave you?” I say. “That's one of the pieces?”

“Yes.”

“But not much use without the other half.”

“No. However, many years ago I learned who had the other half and since then I've been searching for that person. A witch called Ledger.”

“And now you've found him? Her?”

“Yes.”

“And have you got the other half of the amulet?”

“It's not quite as simple as that. But I do believe the way to beat Soul is by using the amulet. If you have it you'll be protected as Linus was. You'll be indestructible.”

“If the amulet is ripped in half, how do you know it'll work? How do you even know these pieces are part of the Vardian amulet? It might all be a stupid old story anyway.”

Van's blue eyes seem to explode with sapphire sparks as she says, “There are no guarantees, but I think Ledger will know how to make it work. She's a powerful witch. Possibly the most powerful ever.”

“More powerful than my father?”

Van takes my arm again and says, “Ledger is very
different from your father. She's unusual for a Black Witch and most people haven't even heard of her. She's extremely private, though I was honored to meet her a few days ago. She has many Gifts and a vast knowledge of magic. She may be able to help you access your father's Gifts as well as find how to make the amulet work.”

“But why would she help me? And I can't imagine she's going to hand her half of the amulet over for nothing, if at all.”

“She might be persuaded. I told her about you and she was extremely interested in meeting you.”

I look at Van. She's as cool and sophisticated as always. The scars from her battle with Mercury are all but faded. She's not in one of the pastel-colored suits she used to wear but dark casual trousers, jumper, and winter jacket. And she's as hard to read as ever. I trust her, but I know she always has her own agenda.

“Why would Ledger want to meet me?”

“You'll have to go and see her to find out.”

“You say I'm taking risks; if she's so powerful, how do you know she won't just take Gabriel's half of the amulet and kill me?”

Van smiles faintly. “I don't think murder is her style. And anyway I already gave it to her.”

“
What?
”

“It was a sign of good faith. Ledger will know how to make the amulet whole. She said she will do it for the right person. We simply have to hope that you are that person, Nathan.”