Jack of Ravens (27 page)

In her confusion she realised her fingers were tingling peculiarly; the skin around the tips was puckered as though they had been too long in water. They gradually grew smooth before her eyes.

You did this
, a voice told her, and though it made no sense, some part of her believed it was true.

She jogged towards the tree line, turning to look back when she reached the fence. The vegetation was still covering the door, but from her new perspective she could see the bramble curling upwards in the shape of the number 5, too well defined to be random.

Laura was mesmerised by the figure. In the depths of her, something shifted and answered the call.

4

The lights across Avebury were slowly going out as the villagers turned to sleep. Shavi stood outside the pub, inhaling the scents of the Wiltshire
countryside and feeling more alive than he ever remembered being. The ancient landscape of the Downs rolled away to the south beneath the vault of a sky sprinkled with a dazzling stream of stars.

So much had changed in such a short time that he felt as if he was awakening from a deep sleep. When the strange spirit form emerged from the picture on his office desk, he had been bewildered for only a short time. That evening he had mulled over the existence of things beyond the mundane and had come to the conclusion that it made a lot more sense than his life at the offices of Gibson and Layton, Chartered Accountants. When he handed in his resignation the next day to begin his notice period and started to grow his hair longer in preparation for a new lifestyle, he wondered why he had been denying himself for so long.

Throughout it all, he struggled with the advice of Rourke, the man who had entered his life on the same night as the revelation. Rourke was unassuming and pleasant, a sympathetic listener. Everywhere Shavi went, pub or supermarket or just for a walk in the park, Rourke cropped up with a cheery wave and a line of reassuring chat. He questioned Shavi’s decision to quit his job and became quite intense during subsequent discussions about Shavi changing the direction of his life. The more Shavi grew in tune with his inner self, the more he found Rourke’s presence oppressive, and then negative. It had become a trying task to avoid Rourke and to leave London without the man being aware.

And so Shavi stood there on the brink of – he hoped – something profound. Long black hair now framed his exquisitely handsome Asian features. His workaday suit had been consigned to a charity shop, replaced by loose-fitting cotton clothes, with sandals instead of the black leather shoes that had always made his soles ache.

He had listened to music, lit incense and candles, and most of all thought and dreamed. He had reflected intensely on his inner rhythms and the cycles of his subconscious, becoming more complete with each passing day. After that came the dreams of serpents filled with a coruscating but redeeming power. And finally these were overlaid by one single image falling into stark relief: Avebury’s ancient stone circle. It came to him as he drifted off to sleep and was still there when he woke, night after night. It was calling to him. He answered.

Leaving the main street, Shavi made his way through the cool shadows to where the majority of the remaining standing stones stood in a large grassy expanse, bounded on one side by a steep bank. It was peaceful and still. Shavi let his fingers drift over the surface of the megaliths as he passed, his skin tingling with the contact.

As he walked he had the vague impression of movement away in the night near a copse of trees. It was gone the moment he registered it.
A fox?
he thought. Soon after, a shape flitted through a beam of moonlight to hide
behind one of the stones, though whether it was man or beast Shavi couldn’t tell. He decided the safest thing to do would be to return to the van to get his torch, but before he could turn around he was hit forcefully and dragged into the lee of one of the megaliths.

‘What are you doing here?’ Foul breath blasted into Shavi’s face as a hand closed around his throat.

He allowed himself to go limp to prevent further violence. The attacker eased his grip and Shavi saw it was a man with straggly, grey hair and the sunburned, wind-blasted complexion of someone who spent his life outdoors. He was wiry and exceptionally strong for his age, which Shavi placed post-sixty, though it was difficult to pin it down. He was unwashed and mud splattered his old cheesecloth shirt. His eyes were feral and frightened and reminded Shavi of a wild beast’s.

The man brought up a wooden staff with his free hand and placed it quickly across Shavi’s throat, pinning him down. If the man increased his weight on the staff he would crush Shavi’s neck in an instant.

‘Who are you?’ he repeated threateningly.

‘My name is Shavi.’

‘What are you doing here at night? Nobody comes here at night. Nobody comes to any of the old sites any more. They’re all dead and dried up.’ His eyes flashed from side to side anxiously; he appeared on the edge of sanity.

Shavi’s first thought was that the man was a drunk or a drifter, but there was an indefinable quality to him that made Shavi think again. ‘I came because of a dream,’ Shavi said after a second.

The man’s erratic movements ceased and he stared deeply into Shavi’s eyes. ‘You dreamed of the stones?’

‘Every night.’

‘And you came because of dreams? You’re not lying to me, are you, you bloody young idiot?’

‘I am not lying.’

‘Are you one of them?’ His stressed, anxious tics returned in force. ‘You can’t be one of them. They’re gone. Lost. Dead. Don’t exist any more.’ He sat back against the stone, nursing his staff in his lap. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Shavi.’

‘Bloody idiot name. Are you one of them?’

‘I do not know.’ The man began to grow agitated again, so Shavi added hastily, ‘I do know that I am supposed to be here. Something strange has come into my life … a feeling that this is not the way things are meant to be.’

The world is the way anyone with the strongest will makes it. That’s just the way it is.’ The hungry gleam in the man’s eyes told Shavi his instincts were right: somehow the man was connected to the growing mystery.

‘Who are you?’ Shavi asked gently.

A flash of paranoia came and went and then the man said roughly, ‘I’ve got lots of names, but you can call me the Bone Inspector until you know me better.’ When he saw Shavi looking at him quizzically, he snapped, ‘It’s a name
and
a job description. I guard the ancient sites all across the country … here, Stonehenge, Boskawen-Un, Callanish, all of ’em. Have done for years.’

‘Guard them from what?’

‘None of your business!’ He caught himself, punched the turf. ‘I’m the last in the line of a group that called themselves the Culture. You’d know ’em by another name. They were the keepers of wisdom, passed down from one generation to the next by word of mouth only.’ The Bone Inspector suddenly jumped to his feet. ‘We can’t stay here talking! They’ll be coming for us soon!’

‘Who will?’

‘The ones who rule the world. I’ve been running from them, and hiding … travelling by night, sleeping in ditches. They want me dead because I’m the only one who knows about the stuff that’s been forgotten. Even though they’re dead the old sites still have something … they help me hide from the ones who’re after me.’

‘You are not making a great deal of sense,’ Shavi said quietly.

‘You think I’m crazy, do you? Well, that shows what you know.’ He rapped Shavi’s head with his knuckles. ‘Thick.’

The Bone Inspector grabbed Shavi and tried to haul him away, but Shavi resisted. ‘I cannot go. I was brought here for a reason.’

‘If you stay here, they’ll have you. They don’t allow anyone to get close to the old ways.’

‘If you know what is happening, please tell me.’

Whatever the Bone Inspector saw in Shavi’s eyes calmed him. ‘All right. I reckon you might be one of them after all. And if you are … well, there’s hope.’ He looked around like a cornered animal. ‘I’ll show you, that’s what I’ll do.’

The Bone Inspector bounded away so quickly that Shavi had to scramble to keep up with him. Scraps of the Bone Inspector’s crazed mutterings floated back. ‘Ancient knowledge … secrets encoded in the landscape, so it’ll never be lost. But you need eyes to see … think smart, different from the way you were taught …’

Shavi caught up with the fragmentary commentary at one of the stones. The Bone Inspector patted the megalith a little too enthusiastically. ‘Everything they taught you in school is wrong. There’s a secret history that went on behind the scenes of what most people saw. And it’s all about this.’

‘The standing stones?’

‘No, you idiot. The stones are just markers.’

‘For what?’

‘The power that’s in the land … telluric energy, the Blue Fire – the Pendragon Spirit. Call it what you will.’

‘Ley Lines?’

The Bone Inspector cackled. ‘The New Age idiots were right all along. Isn’t that a punch in the eye? Every sacred site, whether it’s a stone circle, a spring or a cathedral, they’re places where the spirit fire is strongest, where you can tap into it if you know how. And this place was the most powerful of all.’

Shavi glanced at the row of stones disappearing into the gloom. Avebury was such a big megalithic complex that it encompassed the whole of the modern village: rings of stones, two processional avenues snaking out on either side. The books he’d read in recent days told him that archaeologists considered it just part of a vast site that had once stretched for miles, taking in nearby Silbury Hill and scores of other smaller prehistoric remnants.

‘They call it a
dracontium,’
the Bone Inspector said, ‘a dragon temple, because the two avenues make a snake in the landscape with the temple at the heart. Dragons … serpents – that’s just another way of describing the power that runs through the land, and through us, too. There was a time when this whole world was the Kingdom of the Serpent. Now …’ He shook his head. ‘You want to see how bad it’s got?’

He loped across the clipped grass like a wolf until he reached another stone. ‘This one’s called the Devil’s Chair,’ he said. ‘Everything is a secret. You have to look past the surface, find the key that unlocks hidden doors. They’re everywhere if you know how to look.’

‘Doors to where?’

‘Here, there and everywhere. We run round this three times widdershins. That’ll raise whatever sparks of energy are left in the ground. That’s the key, you see. The key to everything.’ His eyes were wild and white in the dark. Too long hiding and running from whomever he thought was pursuing him had taken its toll. He grabbed Shavi. ‘Once we’ve done that, you follow me. And don’t fall back, all right?’

The Bone Inspector ran anticlockwise around the stone. Shavi followed, unsure whether he was making a fool of himself. After the third circuit, the Bone Inspector spun off towards a steep embankment. He led Shavi down the other side, across a road, through a gate and two rows of concrete pillars that marked the site of stones long since uprooted.

‘West Kennet Avenue. Not long now,’ the Bone Inspector said breathlessly.

A change had come over the atmosphere: it was electric, and Shavi could feel his fingers and toes tingling. The ground rumbled, and to his astonishment he saw the turf rising ahead of him to reveal a gaping hole.

‘Underground we go,’ the Bone Inspector chanted.

They scrambled along a loam-stinking tunnel for fifteen minutes until it
widened into a space whose boundaries were lost to the dark. A thin, flickering blue light emanated from faint deposits on the floor.

The Bone Inspector suddenly thrust an arm across Shavi’s chest, halting his headlong rush. As Shavi’s eyes adjusted to the half-light, he saw he was standing on the edge of a sharp drop.

‘Not so long ago that would have been filled with a lake of Blue Fire.’ A hint of awe laced the Bone Inspector’s voice; he sounded saner and more measured now he was underground. ‘It was magnificent. You felt as if you were a god just standing at the edge.’

‘Where has it gone?’

‘Where’s it gone? Where’s it gone?’ The Bone Inspector rubbed feverish fingers through his lank hair. ‘If I knew that, I’d know everything. It was dormant before, when men thought science could solve all their problems. It looked as if it was coming back for good, but then …’ He gripped his skull as if he was trying to crush it. ‘Why can’t I remember? What’s wrong with my head?’

‘We must stay calm,’ Shavi said comfortingly.

‘Calm? The Blue Fire is the lifeblood of everything! If it’s gone, what do you think that means? We’re all dead men walking around, only we don’t know it. There’s only a residue at the old sites – the scum left behind after it went down the drain.’ The Bone Inspector grabbed Shavi’s shirt and hauled him so close that Shavi could smell the old man’s foul breath again. ‘If you really are one of the Five, then you’ve got to find it. That’s your job. Bring back the power in the land. Set us all free!’

Once Shavi had calmed the Bone Inspector, he encouraged him to explain what he meant by ‘the Five’. Soon Shavi had heard about the champions of Existence who came together to protect the land, bound as one by the Pendragon Spirit.

‘Five. Always five. That’s the magic number,’ the Bone Inspector said. ‘When one lot does what’s required of them, they sail off into the sunset until the next crisis, when Existence calls another Five.’