Sarwat Chadda - Billi SanGreal 02 - Dark Goddess (10 page)

Oh, God. No.

"You did it to me, Billi," says Alex Weeks. He holds a sword out, hilt first. The first time is always the hardest. "Billi didn't spot it before, but a red stain is spreading over his chest. His shirt is torn open and his white flesh is like an empty page. The red is the story of his life. It wasn't long.

Billi takes the sword, her father's sword. She looks to Kay for help.

"You have to decide," says Kay.

This is wrong. Billi is holding the sword tip against Vasilisa's heart now. Vasilisa looks up at Billi. She trusts Billi.

"No "Billi tries to drop the weapon, but someone's holding her hand and arm. She looks around, and it's her dad. The other Templars line up behind him. He grips Billi's arm and pushes her toward Vasilisa.

"You must." His mouth is firm. "It is your duty."

"Kay, help me!" Billi struggles against her dad, but the others add their strength to his. An endless line of knights appears, vague in the gloom, and all their power is being channeled through Arthur's arm.

"You must. For all our sakes," says Arthur.

Billi stares down at Vasilisa and sees the girl's shadow. It is huge, malformed, and crooked. The shadow of a monstrous old crone.

Vasilisa screams as Billi slides the sword into her heart.

"Vasilisa!" Billi jerked awake. She was straining against the straps holding her down while pain pounded behind her eyes. Bright lights shone all around her, and she didn't know where she was.

"Easy, miss," said a woman dressed in a green paramedic's uniform. Gas canisters and masks hung off the wall, and beside her was a rack neatly stacked with emergency gear: a portable defibrillator and packets of morphine, antiseptics, and bandages. Billi was in an ambulance. On the floor beside her lay the torn remains of her backpack. She could see three deeply carved cuts on it. Outside she could hear sirens, car horns, and the cacophony of hundreds of people.

"I... have to leave," said Billi. She had to save Vasilisa. If she hurried, there might still be a chance. But she couldn't move; the straps across her chest, waist, and legs held her firmly to the stretcher. "Please, I'm okay."

The medic patted her hand. "I'm sure you are, dear, but you've had a nasty knock. Best we take you in and keep an eye on you, just for tonight."

The doors swung open and Arthur barged in.

"Hey, you can't just come in here." The woman stood up and held out her hand. For a second Billi thought he was going to break it, but he glanced at Billi and his shoulders slumped. He gave a weak smile, but Billi knew he knew: she'd lost Vasilisa.

"She's my daughter."

"Oh." The paramedic looked down at Billi. "Well, we're taking her into Charing Cross Hospital. Just for the night."

"Dad, I just want to go home."

Arthur nodded. "Fine. The others are waiting."

The paramedic sighed impatiently. She stood in front of Arthur, blocking him from Billi.

"I'm afraid that's not possible. I'm afraid—"

Arthur put his hand on the woman's wrist. He didn't squeeze, but held it firmly. The woman tried to twist it free, but she was caught. She gazed into his eyes, first angry, then defiant, and then away.

"I'm afraid... " she whispered.

Yes. She was.

Minutes later, Billi and Arthur were beside the car. They'd made their way through the police cordon, past the row of ambulances treating the injured, past the hordes of sightseers and media. Huge spotlights had been erected around the station entrance. News vans lined the road, and dozens of flashlights bobbed around her as the rescue services tended the wounded and frightened passengers. The news was garbled, but Billi heard one newscaster reporting that a pack of large dogs—Rottweilers or pit bulls—had gone mad when a power failure had plunged the line into complete darkness. Several people had been savaged, but the dogs had escaped down the tunnels.

Arthur waved for a taxi.

"I lost her, Dad." Billi struggled to keep up, her bones groaning with pain. If she moved too fast, she thought she might crack into a million pieces. But the ache wasn't just because of the beating. She'd failed Vasilisa. But it wasn't just a single girl's life she'd jeopordized—it was the entire planet's.

"It's not over yet."

Billi stopped. "You know something?"

Arthur opened the taxi door. "Bors was mauled and there are three dead bodies at the Temple. The police are going to have a field day. That's all I know." He sighed. It had been a long night for them both, and there was still a lot to do. "But Elaine's okay and she has a plan."

"To find Vasilisa?" Billi gazed at the bedlam outside the tube station. The flashing lights, the crowds, and the ambulances. "And the Polenitsy."

"By God, yes." Arthur put his hand on her shoulder and smiled grimly. "And we will make them pay."

A FEW HOURS LATER BILLI WAS BACK IN THE TEMPLE Church. She peered around at the other knights as they sat patiently in the council of war. She struggled to keep upright. She'd got back and found that Middle Temple Lane had been cordoned off by the police, who were going house to house, trying to understand how three dead women, one headless, had ended up in an area occupied mainly by lawyers.

Lance leaned over. "How are you, Bilqis?"

Her head felt like someone was rolling cannonballs in it. Her bones ached, and the thwack she'd been given by the werewolf made breathing hard work. She tried to smile, to be stoic and tough, but her grin turned into a grimace.

"You look awful," said Gwaine as he crossed the circle of chairs and took his own.

Arthur hadn't arrived, but the others waited in the gloomy candlelight of the round. They'd all got a battering that night. The closed chamber stank of Elaine's poultice concoction, the sour odor of old vegetables. Each knight had claw and bite wounds, so Elaine had spent half the night patching them up. She'd checked Billi's prior injuries and pronounced her fully recovered. It was a relief to get those stinking bandages off her back at last.

The west door opened, and a flurry of snow blossomed in, followed by Arthur, Elaine, and Father Rowland. Rowland shut the door and took his seat in a pew, turning so he could see the circle of knights. Elaine usually sat with him, but this time she followed Arthur into the circle. The normally cool and sarcastic old woman seemed anxious, and for the first time didn't have a cigarette twitching in her fingers. She looked around the high-backed chairs. She picked an empty one next to Billi and sat down.

Gwaine's mouth dropped open in shock.

"That's Bors's seat," he said, his voice weak and cracked.

"Not while he's in hospital." Arthur took his own seat. "This needs all of us."

"But, Arthur, she's... Jewish," said Gwaine, still staring in disbelief at the woman in his nephew's seat.

"Right now I really couldn't give a shit," replied Arthur. He slowly looked each of them in the eye. "It's been a bad night. Bors was badly wounded, but, God be praised, he's going to live."

"And the others?" Billi asked. The werewolves had attacked dozens of people on the train, infecting them all with lycanthropy.

Rowland cleared his throat. "Elaine and I have been to Crow Street Hospital, where the injured were taken. We've been able to use our contacts there to make sure they're being treated with Elaine's poultices. They'll recover."

"But we've no time to rest up and lick our wounds," said Arthur. "The Polenitsy have the girl."

Elaine butted in. "We've got to get her back. Soon."

Billi felt flushed and red, like they were all looking at her. She'd lost Vasilisa.

"The last time Vasilisa was with us she spoke of Fimbulwinter, something she believed Baba Yaga would bring about." Arthur twisted his wedding ring, constantly winding it around his finger. "Once Baba Yaga performs the Ritual of Devouring, she will be powerful enough to create a global winter that could last for many years."

"The ritual can only be carried out on the night of the full moon. Saturday," said Elaine.

"Bloody hell," said Billi. It was early Wednesday already. "That's four days from now. How on earth are we going to find her in four days? We've no idea where she is."

"Oh, Vasilisa's in Russia," replied Elaine. "The Polenitsy will take her straight to Baba Yaga, and the old witch is
Mother
Russia. She'll be nowhere else."

"Great. That's going to make it so much easier." Russia was gigantic. Billi could see that everyone was thinking the same. It would be like searching for a snowflake in the Arctic.

Gwaine snorted scornfully. "And how exactly are we going to find her?" He spread out his arms. "Look at us. We've just had our arses whipped by a bunch of hairy freaks, and that's with the home advantage. We go into their territory and we're just so much dog food. If II be suicide."

"This time we'll have help," said Arthur. "We'll go to the Bogatyrs. Romanov is a good man; once he knows what's at stake he'll want to help. Then there's Vasilisa's grandmother, a white witch by all accounts. She could have valuable information for us. Plus, there are many wolf packs in the area; the Polenitsy may have come from one." He stood up and walked slowly around the circle of chairs. "Two teams, one to Vasilisa's birthplace in Karelia, the other to Moscow, where we'll meet the Bogatyrs. We'll stop Baba Yaga."

"By any means necessary, right?" asked Gwaine. Billi's eyes narrowed.

"We'll rescue Vasilisa if we can." Arthur looked slowly around, but stopped at Billi. "But that may not be possible."

A chill crept up Billi's heart.

"Then?" she asked. She knew the answer, but needed someone to say it out loud.

"If we can't save her, we'll have to kill her," replied her father in his plain, matter-of-fact tone. "Baba Yaga must not carry out the ritual. That's all that matters."

"There has to be another way," said Billi, sickened. "We can't just kill her."

Arthur frowned. "I'm not happy about this either, Billi. But what's the life of one against the entire population of the planet? With Vasilisa in Baba Yaga's hands, that's the choice we face."

"But can't we—"

"Enough," Arthur snapped. "You will do as you are ordered, squire."

Billi glared at him, but Arthur's cold blue eyes were empty. He'd made his decision.

"I will go to Moscow. I have friends there," said Lance.

"Agreed," said Arthur. "Gwaine will lead the Moscow team and contact the Bogatyrs. I will lead the Karelia team."

"Who goes with you?" asked Billi.

Arthur frowned. "I take Gareth and Mordred."

No.

Arthur pointed at Billi. "You go with Elaine, Lance... and Gwaine."

"I'm not going with Gwaine," said Billi the moment she and Arthur left the Temple Church. They couldn't go home—the place was crawling with police—so they crossed the courtyard to Chaplain's House.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Oh, nothing. Except he's a narrow-minded, bigoted, religious fundamentalist."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Oh, he was trying to be funny. That's just what she needed. A funny parent.

"Anyway, you'll have Elaine."

"Gwaine hates Elaine more than anyone. Why don't I swap with Mordred?"

"He's too inexperienced. He sticks with me. One squire per team and you're in Gwaine's." Arthur tapped his watch. "It's late, Billi. Get some sleep. The flight's at seven."

"Not until we've finished discussing this." She stood in the hallway, glowering.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Fine." He twisted his wedding ring. "You're even more stubborn than Jamila."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Billi, why are you trying to pick a fight with me? Is this really all about Gwaine?"

Billi shook her head and scowled. "It's not right. We're meant to protect innocent people like Vasilisa. I can't believe her sacrifice is even an option."

Wearily, Arthur took off his coat, and Billi saw the slowness in his movements. He'd taken a beating down in the tube and was as bruised and busted as the rest of them. It shocked her to see her dad's moments of frailty. "Billi, the world's not black and white. The bad guys come bright and beautiful, and the good guys might look like monsters. You of all people know that."

Michael. The commander of the Shining Host. The archangel had tried to kill every firstborn child in London. He'd been beautiful right up to the moment she'd destroyed him.

"You know its not the answer, Dad. If we kill Vasilisa, we stop Baba Yaga. This time. But what about the next Spring Child she goes after? We kill that one too? And the one after that? What we really need to do is kill Baba Yaga."

"I don't disagree. That's why I'm going to Karelia. Maybe Vasilisa's grandmother can help us. But it's a long shot. Baba Yaga's very old and very powerful. If she could be destroyed easily, someone would have done it a long time ago."

"Maybe the right people have never tried."

Arthur laughed. "You stick with that attitude." Then he sat down next to her. "Billi, this is important. If you have to choose between saving one life or saving millions, you can't have any doubts. I have to trust you on this. If the time comes, you must kill Vasilisa."

Billi sat in the hallway well before dawn with her bag packed and ready. Her dad had gone to sort out the last-minute flights and visas for Russia.

She hadn't slept a wink. How could she? The clock in the hall ticked away every second, and the noise reminded her of what was at stake. Billi stared at Kay's photo on her mobile, tracing the outline of his face with her fingernail.

Once, a long time ago, she'd believed being a Templar was cool, noble, even. No matter how hard it had gotten in school, the secret that she belonged to something old, important, and powerful had kept her going. Her training, her loneliness, her bruises all meant something. She'd hung on to that after Kay's death. The Templars fought the Unholy. They fought the ghosts and the
ghuls
and all the supernatural evil that preyed on mankind. They protected the innocent.