The Gorgons Gaze # 2 (Companions Quartet) (18 page)

“Mr. Quick from the refinery said they should call in
the army to clear the camp. I saw him on TV,” snorted Anneena. “Actually, Connie, that’s where we’re going.”

“Where?”

“Up there to the wood. You see, there’s a problem.”

“What problem?”

Connie had a feeling that something serious was coming. Anneena sat down on a concrete block lying by the roadside.

“It’s Col. He hasn’t turned up at school this week.”

“What!”

“Yeah, I know. It’s not like him. He’s disappeared somewhere with his mother. We don’t know where she’s taken him, but I thought he’d at least call to let us know what he’s doing. Even his grandmother doesn’t know what he’s up to. She’s really upset—and as for Col’s dad, he’s—well, you can imagine.”

“But where does Col’s mom live? Have they checked if he’s there?”

“She doesn’t live anywhere much, except in a camper-van she drives around in. It’s not here at the moment—Jane and I biked up to the wood to check yesterday. No one’s seen her.”

Connie was quickly thinking through all the people who might be able to help. Presumably Mrs. Clamworthy had tried all the obvious sources of information: Dr. Brock; Col’s mentor, Captain Graves; Skylark. Who did that leave?

“Look, Anneena, I have an idea. I think I can find out where Col’s mom might be from someone in London. Can I borrow your phone, Jane?”

“Sure.” Jane held it out. “Where’s yours?”

“Confiscated by my great aunt.”

“Is she…quite all there?” Jane asked delicately.

“No, I really don’t think she is.”

“You should tell your parents.”

“Don’t think I haven’t. It’s just that they take the view that she’s the sane one and I’m the one who’s crazy.” Connie tried to make light of it, but she couldn’t rid herself of the sense of betrayal that her parents sided with Godiva rather than with her.

“What about your uncle? He seems okay,” Jane said.

“Except he sees things her way, too—he doesn’t like what’s going on but he agrees that you’ve got to be cruel to be kind.”

“It’s inhuman what they’re doing to you—it’s like you’re in prison or something. Isn’t there something we can do?” said Anneena.

“For me, at the moment? No. But I might be able to help Col. Just give me a minute.”

Connie dug in her jacket pocket, pulled out Mr. Coddrington’s business card and called the switchboard at the Society for the Protection of Mythical Creatures.

“We’re sorry but our offices are closed at the moment. If you’d like to—”

She ended the call. Of course, it wasn’t open. It was Saturday. No one would be there. But she wouldn’t have another chance once she handed back the phone since Godiva had hers; she decided to give the direct line a try, banking on Mr. Coddrington being such a workaholic that he might well be in on the weekend.

The phone was picked up before it had even rung twice. “Hello, Coddrington here.”

“Oh, Mr. Coddrington, I wasn’t really expecting you to be in the office.”

“Who is this?” His voice had a snap like a mousetrap.

“It’s Connie Lionheart, Mr. Coddrington.”

“Ah, Miss Lionheart. Connie.” She could almost see him fawning over the phone as he spoke. “How good of you to call. I assume that you’ve given further thought to our conversation last month, and you have something to tell me?”

“What?” Connie realized that he had jumped to conclusions as to why she would contact him.

“I assume you want to tell me about how many universals you think there are,” he said patiently. She heard rustling in the background as if he was poised to take notes.

“Er, no.” She glanced nervously at Jane and Anneena, who were listening to every word. “I’m with some people at the moment. I can’t talk much.”

“I understand. Perhaps we can talk another time when
you are at liberty to speak more freely to me.”

“Er…yes. Actually, Mr. Coddrington, that wasn’t why I called.”

“Oh? So why did you then?” He now sounded genuinely curious.

“It’s about a friend of mine—Col Clamworthy. He’s gone missing with his mother. I just wondered if you knew where she might be, seeing how good your filing system is?”

“Oh, is that it?” She could tell that her flattery was hitting the desired mark. “Well, I might be able to tell you—as a favor between friends. You understand that all the information has been gathered strictly in confidence. If I tell you this, I’ll be bending the rules to help you.”

Connie understood that what he meant was that he expected a favor from her in return, but this didn’t matter as long as she could help Col.

“Thank you. I’d be really grateful.”

“What is the mother’s name?” She heard the clanking of cabinet drawers being pulled out.

“Cassandra Clamworthy—at least, I think so.”

“Let me see—Cassandra Clamworthy. What is her companion species?”

Connie searched her memory, not even sure whether Col had ever told her this. He hadn’t talked much about his mother. “Sorry, I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Never mind,” Mr. Coddrington said, as if this was
good news. “All my files are cross-referenced. I should still be able to find her for you. Your friend is a companion to pegasi?”

Connie wondered how he knew this about Col. Perhaps he remembered him from last year? Col had said that he had trained once with Mr. Coddrington and Shirley Masterson. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Ah, here he is. Hmm, from quite a family by the looks of it: a Kraken and a gorgon companion—a most unusual combination—but resulting in a child with a fairly common gift. Well, there is no Cassandra Clamworthy here. You are looking for Cassandra Lang. She reverted to her maiden name after her divorce from the Kraken companion.”

“And do you know where she is?” Connie wished he would stop showing off and tell her what she needed to know.

“Oh, yes, this one has given us a lot of trouble from the evidence of her record. Dear, oh dear. Quite disgraceful. It seems that she can most often be found as an irregular tenant of a cottage in Wales, in the Brecon Beacons to be precise. Bwlch is the uncouth name of the place,”—he spelled it out for her—“at least, that is where I have elected to put her pin, just to the left of it. If you are looking for your friend, I suggest you start there.”

“Thank you for your help.”

“And you won’t forget our little discussion, I hope?
Phone anytime if you have anything you would like to tell me.”

“Er, thanks,” said Connie, ending the call. Jane and Anneena were still watching her. “I’ve got a lead—Col might’ve gone to Wales to his mother’s cottage.”

“Great.” Connie could tell that Anneena itched to ask to whom she had been speaking. It was a measure of their friendship that she held back, knowing Connie well enough to understand that she hated being interrogated about the Society. “That’s really helpful. His grandmother will be pleased to have something to go on. She’s been having a terrible week—we found her in tears. Apparently that friend of yours Dr. Brock is really angry with Col for not returning something, and that hasn’t helped.”

“When was this?”

“Last Saturday night apparently.”

Col hadn’t returned Argand—now she was convinced something terrible had happened.

“Come on, I want to see what’s going on in these woods,” said Connie.

“Let’s go and find Rat then,” said Anneena, mounting her bike as a tanker rumbled by filling the air with fumes.

“Who?”

“Col’s friend from the camp. He’s a bit odd but actually,”—she looked at Connie from under her lashes—“I think you might have a lot in common.”

Colin Clamworthy was woken early by his mother. He floated up from his dreams of darkness like a diver rising from the depths, but he did not break the surface, staying submerged just below the point of true consciousness.

“Colin, it’s time for your combat training,” Cassandra said gently, helping him to his feet. Colin automatically reached for his new padded flying jacket and helmet—both were black and were worn with matching leather arm protectors and shin pads.

“How are you feeling today? Better now?” Cassandra asked as he tied on his gear. He nodded and admired his reflection in the cracked mirror on the wall of his cell-like bedroom.

“I know it’s hard for you, Colin,” she said, biting her lip, “but he’s promised he won’t hurt you. He says that as the plan failed—as you and I didn’t bring the universal to him—that he needs you now to make it right.” She frowned slightly. “Are you listening, Colin?”

“Yes, Mother,” he replied in an expressionless voice.

This was to be expected, Cassandra told herself. The distant mood would pass once the shock of meeting Kullervo had settled down. The shape-shifter had also said that he had taken her son under his wing—told her to think of it as an honor. She’d get Colin back soon. She had to be brave for them both. He would thank her one day.

“Come,” she said, watching him anxiously. Though she told herself he would be all right, her instinct was saying
something different. She was torn between her loyalty to Kullervo, who had promised to save the gorgon, and her feelings for her son. “Your teacher is waiting.”

They stepped out of the cottage into the chill air of the dawn to where a pegasus was standing, snorting plumes of steaming breath, shaking his magnificent black mane so that it sparkled in the gathering light. He trotted over to the boy.

Boy
, the horse greeted him.

Kay
, Colin replied mechanically.

Mount
.

Obeying the order instantly, Colin vaulted nimbly onto the bare back of the pegasus and laced his cold hands in the mane. The pegasus cantered to take off, rising until they were up in the clouds. The water vapor stung Colin’s eyes. He reached for his visor, but halted his hand with a moment’s indecision. He had remembered something—a girl clinging to his waist, another pegasus, not this one.

Colin, you are not paying attention. I shall have to punish you
, whinnied Kullervo angrily. A throb of pain swept through Colin, and the memory was extinguished like a candle snuffed out. Kullervo snorted, relishing the vindictive pleasure of bending a human to his will—a human, moreover, who was dear to the universal. That added spice to the victory.

Colin did not heed, or even remember, the pain for long. He was now looking down at the mountain slopes
below him, admiring the ranks of creatures practicing their combat exercises. Kullervo’s supporters were growing in number, believing him to be the only hope now for their own survival. Every day, fresh outrages by humanity—the felling of forests, the pollution of inland waterways and seas, acid rain; the assaults were too numerous to mention—brought more over to Kullervo’s side. He promised them that he would rid the world of humanity—in one blow giving them a secure future and revenge on those who had pushed them to the brink of extinction. The creatures were training in earnest, and their leader had promised that their moment would soon arrive. They only needed one more thing to perfect their attack: a universal.

As Colin watched, two black boars gored and hacked at each other with their bloodstained tusks, surrounded by a ring of yelling banshees, their screeches drowning out the grunts and squeals of the fight. Weather giants hurled hailstones and thunderbolts at the hillside, causing the valley to echo with explosions as each one hit. Ahead, a black dragon wrestled with a white one in mid-air, their bodies intertwined in a vicious knot of teeth, claws, and hooked wings.

Kullervo landed by a small grove of hawthorn trees, close to a stack of sharpened poles.

Take a javelin, boy. You are to aim for that kestrel there
.

Colin looked to the treetops and saw a bird of prey glaring down at them, its yellow eyes confident and cool.

He does not think you will hit him
, mocked Kullervo.
How does that make you feel?

A wave of anger, propelled by Kullervo, ripped through the blank mind of Colin. He reached for a javelin and threw it clumsily at the bird. It clattered harmlessly to the ground, well short of its target.

Pitiful
, sneered Kullervo.
You threw with your feelings and not your judgment. Try again
.

Colin grabbed another weapon and this time aimed carefully, assessing distance and height before he let go. The javelin sailed cleanly from his hand and hit the leaves at the kestrel’s feet, forcing the creature into the sky with a startled cry.

Much better. No longer so proud, is he?
Kullervo laughed. Colin laughed, too, but the sound was mirthless and grated on his throat.
Take three more javelins. We will see if we can catch him on the wing
.

Colin seized two poles in his left hand, holding another ready in his right. Kullervo took off and set out in pursuit of the kestrel, flying swiftly to outpace it. The bird dipped to the left, but Colin had anticipated this move and let fly his javelin. It struck the bird on the wing, and the kestrel fell spiraling to the earth, its limb broken.

An excellent shot
, Kullervo gloated.
You shall have a reward
.

Colin then felt a surge of triumph course through his veins, vitalizing every inch of his deadened being. He
punched the air with his free hand, threw back his head, and crowed with delight.