Half Wild (8 page)

I remember Annalise sitting next to me on the roof of Mercury’s cottage, her whole body shaking with fear and I know she didn’t betray me.

“I have to try to help her, Gabriel. It’s what you would do for me and it’s what I must do for her.”

He says nothing.

“I like her a lot, Gabriel. You know that.”

Gabriel puts his arms over his face. He still says nothing but I can see his chest is heaving.

“I’ve got a serious favor to ask you,” I say.

I wait.

So does Gabriel.

“Will you help me find Mercury?” Because we both know that, wherever Mercury is, she’s got Annalise with her. “I need your help, Gabriel.”

He doesn’t reply. Doesn’t uncover his face.

There’s nothing more I can do, so I go down to the lakeshore.

A while later he joins me and we both look out over the calm water, the mountains beyond, and the sky, clear and blue above that.

Gabriel says, “Van told me that you were dead. Nesbitt described your body, your wound. He had the Fairborn and I knew you wouldn’t have let him take it if you were alive. I knew you were dead. There was no doubt in my mind.” He glances at me but looks away again across the lake. “I wept. I wept a lot, Nathan. And I had this idea that I’d go and find your body and hold it to mine and not let it go, ever. I would stay with you, starve, but at least I’d die holding you. That’s all I thought was left to me.”

“Gabriel . . .” But I don’t know what to say. I don’t want him to starve or die. “You’re my friend, Gabriel. My best, my only friend. But . . .”

He turns to me. “I’ll stay with you always; go where you go always. I don’t want to be anywhere else. I couldn’t stand to be anywhere else. If you go to Mercury then I’ll go too. If you want me to help free Annalise then I will.”

I turn to face him and see how angry he looks. I say, “Thank you.” I think it’s the first time I’ve thanked Gabriel for anything but I know that he doesn’t want my thanks; he doesn’t want any of it.

“I have a proposition.” Van started the elaborate evening meal with this comment, though we have yet to hear what the proposition is and the meal is nearly over.

Van is sitting at the head of the table, I’m to her left, and Gabriel is sitting opposite me. He and I have been together all day, eating, swimming, sunbathing, and occasionally arguing. Gabriel says that we’re on holiday and that this is what fain holidays are like. We don’t argue about Annalise; she isn’t mentioned again. We do argue about who runs faster (me, by a mile, and yet Gabriel seems to think he wins every race because of some handicap system that applies to fain bodies), swims further underwater (me by fifty meters but yet again the handicap system reveals my failings), climbs faster (there’s a climbing wall in the garden—as in most drug-baron homes, I expect—and this one Gabriel wins before the handicap system comes in; after the handicap is applied I’m relegated to slug speed). We eat a lot and discuss food a lot: whether croissants are better dipped in coffee or hot chocolate, bread with peanut butter or chocolate spread, chips with mayo or ketchup, that sort of thing. I realize how much I’ve missed him. He’s good to be on holiday with but now the games are over.

The dinner is formal, with a lot of crystal and cutlery and candles, though I’m dressed in my old clothes. Van is immaculate in a cream-colored suit and Gabriel is wearing new clothes he found in the house. He and Van make a beautiful pair. Nesbitt is a lot less beautiful and has on the same black clothes he’s always in. He’s both chef and waiter and I have to admit he’s pretty good. In fact, now I think about it, he’s pretty handy at most things: cooking, serving tea, hiding a trail, strangling Hunters. As far as assistants go, Van has the best.

We’ve had soup, then lamb, but no dessert. “I think we’re all sweet enough” is Van’s comment. I snort a laugh.

She turns to me, saying, “I’m serious. Nesbitt told me that you threatened to cut his tongue out but you resisted. I suspect your father wouldn’t have held back.” Van watches Nesbitt walk away with a pile of plates. “Anyway, I’m glad you didn’t do it.” She hesitates and glances at the doorway through which Nesbitt has just exited. “Nesbitt and I are old friends and, much as my life would be infinitely more peaceful should Nesbitt be mute, he’s a lot more useful with a tongue in his head.”

I’m trying to work out their relationship. Van says she and Nesbitt are old friends and she looks like she’s only a few years older than me, but she acts as if she’s older than Nesbitt. They appear to be like a master and servant who’ve been together for decades.

I say, “Nesbitt told me you’re an expert at potions.”

“He’s very generous. And certainly I prefer potions. For example, I would never use anything as crude as a knife to cut a tongue out. Potions are extremely adaptable and more precise than even the sharpest blade. A certain potion dropped on your tongue and you would eat it—your own tongue, I mean.”

“I’ve never heard of that. My gran’s Gift was potions too. She had a strong Gift.”

“I take it you’re referring to your grandmother on the White side of your family?” Van doesn’t wait for me to reply before going on. “Most White Witches know little about the power of Black potions. Potions have infinite uses and strengths. They are, in my humble opinion, the most powerful of weapons.”

“And you’ve used that weapon? Made someone eat their own tongue?”

Van gives the faintest shrug. “I have few enemies; most I have dealt with.”

Nesbitt has returned to clear more plates and bowls and as he piles them up he says, “Tell ’em about the potion for those who don’t repay you.” He grins at me and Gabriel. “I earn my keep, boys. You should think about earning yours.”

“I’m not sure that those details are for the dinner table,” Van says. “Though it is very effective.”

“I think Gabriel has repaid you for your help,” I say to Van.

“Yes. All in all I like to think we have done well by each other. Gabriel is alive and well, and I have half the amulet as he promised. Gabriel has been gracious and helpful: the perfect patient and the perfect guest. And you, Nathan, have your own charms.”

“Yeah?” I can’t believe Van finds anything about me charming. I look at Gabriel, who is grinning, no doubt at the comment about my charms, but I tell Van, “We’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“That is, of course, entirely up to you.”

“It is.”

“May I inquire as to your plans?”

“You can inquire all you like.”

“I assume that you’re intending to find Mercury and help your friend Annalise escape. A worthy quest for a young man who is blinded by love.” She smiles at me and then turns her smile on Gabriel.

“I’m not blinded by love.”

“No. Of course not,” Van says. “And even so the quest is a worthy one.”

Nesbitt brings coffee and places the pot centrally on the table between us all. Van continues. “It feels rather unfair that I know your plans and you don’t know mine. And I’m nothing if not fair.” She waves at Nesbitt to indicate he can pour the coffee. “I too am on a quest of sorts.”

“To find the other half of the amulet?” I ask.

Van shakes her head slightly. “That is something I hope to do at some stage, yes, but it isn’t my first priority.”

“And what is?”

“Since you left the world of White Witches, Nathan, a lot has happened. The old Council Leader, Gloria Dale, has been ousted. Soul O’Brien used your escape from the Council building to bring about her downfall. No prisoner has ever escaped before and you are the son of Marcus. Your escape was both unprecedented and unforgivable.”

“But I was a prisoner of Soul.” Or at least I think I was.

“It doesn’t matter who took you there or why. The Council guards failed to guard you and the magic protecting the building failed to retain you. The building, the guards, the magic are all the responsibility of the Council Leader. Gloria took the blame and Soul made sure she took it all.”

“I always wondered if my escape was made easy. It certainly wasn’t made difficult.”

“My sources say that Soul allowed your escape. Though it did not go entirely as he planned. You were supposed to have had your finger chopped off and made into a witch’s bottle before that happened. They were going to force you to kill your father and then murder you. But I see you still have all your fingers.” She waves her cigarette at my hand. “Nonetheless, your escape has still worked to Soul’s advantage. He brought down Gloria and took control of the Council himself.”

“So now there’s a man in charge of the Council and another leading the Hunters? That must be a first. I can’t see it going down well with White Witches.”

“Well, no. Most females, of course, have stronger Gifts than men. You and Gabriel are unusual in that regard.” Nesbitt coughs to bring attention to himself but Van ignores him. “Anyway, men actually don’t hold both those two key positions. Clay also fared badly due to your actions. Many White Witches have died protecting the Fairborn, and yet it was stolen on Clay’s watch without him even getting a bruise. There was a call for him to go too . . . and he went.”

“So who’s in charge of the Hunters now?” But somehow I have a feeling I already know.

“There was one person who did get rather more than a bruise the night you stole the Fairborn. She’s a little young and somewhat inexperienced but intelligent and highly gifted. And also horribly disfigured, so they say. Your half-sister Jessica.”

I remember the Fairborn in my hand, its power and its desire to cut, and how it sliced down her face. I say, “She was Clay’s lover. I guess that relationship is over now since it’s served its purpose. She’ll be loving the job more than she loved Clay.”

“Jessica is loyal to Soul and is already extending the Hunters’ range across Europe. Soul is bringing the White Witch Councils of Europe under his influence. He’s winning them round to his point of view. He wants them all to report to him and for them to drive out the Black Witches from here as they have been from Britain.” Van shakes her head. “I’m a Black Witch and have no love for Whites but in Europe we have a long tradition of live and let live. They stick to their traditional areas and we stick to ours. There’s a harmony.”

Van pulls her slim silver case out of her jacket and takes another cigarette, saying, “Soul has no interest in harmony. All he wants is more and more power.” She lights the cigarette, inhales deeply, and blows the plume of green smoke high above us. “He plans on killing all Black Witches in Europe. And he will kill anyone, Black or White, who stands in his way. He is no true witch.”

“And your quest is to stop him?”

“Yes. To restore harmony and balance we have to prevent Soul from taking over all the Councils of Europe and we have to stop the Hunters who work for him.”

“Who’s
we
?”

“An alliance of all witches.”

“
All
witches? You mean Whites as well as Blacks?”

“Yes, all witches who want to retain the traditional values.”

“Traditional values of hating each other?”

“Traditional values of mutual distance, respect, and tolerance. We all respect the individual, whether White or Black. And we’re looking for new recruits.”

“Me? I’m neither Black nor White.”

“You’re both.” She looks over at Nesbitt. “Half Bloods have joined too.”

“So, let me get this right: you’re banding together with a bunch of White Witches to battle the Hunters who are expanding into Europe. And you want me to join and fight alongside White Witches?”

“Yes.”

“Ha! You talk about balance? Well, I hate White Witches and they hate me. That’s the sort of balance I’m used to.”

“You don’t hate all White Witches. Your half-brother Arran and half-sister Deborah—”

“Are they joining?”

“I believe so.”

I’m not sure how I feel about that but I imagine it’s true. They would both believe in the cause.

I say, “I can’t see either of them being much use in a fight.”

“An army isn’t just made up of soldiers.” Van drags on her cigarette. “We all bring different attributes to the cause. Yours is undoubtedly your ability to fight. Others, like Arran, can heal the wounded. Others, like Deborah, provide information.”

I study her. “How many recruits are there?”

“A few. Some White Witches have fled England already. Those that find Soul too extreme and have said so. They’ve lost everything and want to fight back. Some Black Witches have also joined: those who see the future will be bleak if they do nothing. The numbers are small but growing.”

“You don’t need me then.”

“Few of our recruits can fight.”

“Ah.”

“And you, Nathan, need us. Even if you are able to wake Annalise and escape from Mercury, do you really think your troubles will be over? They’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth. And, while you may be able to run, your precious Annalise will, I’m afraid, not last two minutes.”

“We’ll hide.”

“They’ll hunt.”

And I know she’s right, of course. There’ll be no end to it.

I look at Gabriel. He says, “I’ll go with you, whatever you choose to do.”

I shake my head. “It’s not my fight.”

Van smiles. “It’s your fight more than anyone else’s.”

I get up and walk round the table. I really don’t like this. I’ve no desire to fight against Hunters or risk my life for some cause. And I certainly can’t see myself fighting alongside even one White Witch. All I want to do is find Annalise and go and live a quiet life by a river, undisturbed, forever.

I walk out of the dining room, wander into the lounge, and sit on the sofa, looking out over the lake to the mountains beyond.