Banished (19 page)

The phone rings twice before Aiden comes on the line. ‘Er, hi?’

‘It’s me, wolf boy. We’re in Covent Garden. Come find us. Near the Transport Museum.’

‘How’d you get there?’ he half yells. ‘I’ve been going crazy. The gate and everything just disappeared after you guys went down to that little beach. I’ve
been waiting for hours. I’ve even got a mate driving me around to see if we can find you.’

‘It’s magic!’ I say like a panto-clown but the smile I’m trying to put in my voice just doesn’t make it.

He groans under his breath at my lame attempt at humour. ‘I’ll see you soon. We’re about five minutes away.’

As I’m pushing out of the phone cubicle a massive flat hand hits the glass hard, shutting me in. I open my mouth to yell but my voice dies in my throat when I see the snarling face behind
the glass. It looks human, but only for the briefest of seconds, until the badly constructed glamour drops away, leaving me staring at one of the hyena-faced mutant things from the night
before.

‘Pretty,’ it grunts. ‘Want.’ It slaps its misshapen three-fingered claws against the glass again, the nails trailing down and leaving deep scratch marks behind. Drips of
thick drool drop from his mouth as he opens his massive jaws in an open-mouthed laugh at my surprised expression.

Well, I decide, it clearly wants to play. I whip my trusty knife from the sheath at the small of my back, regretting my over-wrapped sword. At the same time I shoulder open the door and watch it
take a surprised step back. It always amuses me that creatures both from this world and the Otherwhere never expect a girl to be physically strong or take the initiative in a fight.

I say balls to being eaten.

The street is one of the quieter roads off the main section of the piazza and the people who are around are only too happy not to see anything. And even if someone did stop and look, what they
can see wouldn’t correspond with what they think they see. It’s as if other humans have a circuit in their brains to not see things that don’t make sense. A dark-haired girl
fighting a hyena-faced creature in the middle of the street, for instance. Not even if she’s wielding a knife with a blade as long as her forearm or if the creature is making weird laughing
barking noises to attract the attention of its pack.

I duck under swooping claws as it lashes out at me. I remember only too well the deep cuts that laced across poor Scar’s body the night before. So I dance out of its way, frustrating it,
making it angry, waiting for it to mess up. I launch fake attacks and watch how it moves. It’s oddly graceful but it doesn’t look comfortable. It’s like watching a dog trying to
walk on its hind legs; it can do it, but it’s not its preferred way of movement.

I dart forward, and in a move Jamie showed me and made me practise over and over, I sort of spin into the chimera, stab the knife into his side, keeping the knife at least three inches in his
belly as I speed-pirouette away from him, switching hands as I draw the blade across his stomach.

The knife comes away with a wet sucking sound and I flick my wrist, clearing it of blood. It looks like a polished ballet move and to a certain extent that’s exactly what it is. When Jamie
taught me to fight, he utilized the tools I came with: my body, my height, my suppleness. And here’s where the martial arts and ballet classes my nan had me take really pay off.

I catch movement from the corner of my eye and twist to face the oncoming threat. Two more chimeras are coming at me. Unlike their comrade, they have given up all appearance of being human and
are loping towards me on all fours.

I do the only thing I know how to do, even though my mind is screaming for me to exit stage left. I run at the lead monster and leap at it just as it leaps at me. We clash mid-air and, as I feel
its massive chest strike mine, I drive the knife deep into the soft bit of his jaw, and up into its brain, as far as my blade can go. The impact as we connect is ruthless and steals my breath from
my labouring lungs. I feel its hot breath on my face and then we’re falling. I haul out the knife and just start stabbing as hard and fast as I can, anywhere I can find space. Then we hit the
ground and I land hard and badly, my leg twisting beneath me. The monster collapses on top of me, gives a very human-sounding whimper and dies. Over its massive hairy shoulder I can see the other
one watching in evident surprise.

The chimera takes a far shorter time than I do to recover from its friend dying and stalks towards me where I lie trapped beneath the press of the dead creature. My hand holding onto the knife
is slippery and dark with the thing’s blood. I grimace and wipe the blade and handle on its pelt before I try and lift its body off me. It’s heavy and I’m already breathing hard.
I’m worried the other one will come and finish the job the first two started while I’m lying prone. With a massive heave, I lever the dead monster off me and struggle to stand up. My
leg gives a twinge and I bite back a howl of pain as it refuses to take my weight.

There’s a snorting sound that sounds like husky laughter from the hyena goblin. It licks its fangs and leans closer. ‘Lunch.’

It circles me, slowly. Standing on all fours it comes to above my waist. Massive shoulders taper down towards a narrow waist and powerful haunches. Its markings are darker than the other two
monsters’ and I think that maybe it’s older than the others. It is certainly more wary. But also arrogant.

It circles me for a second time and I keep turning, following it, making sure I keep my weight off my leg. It’s throbbing like mad and I wonder if it’s broken. Unlike my cousins,
I’ve never broken anything before, apart from my nose, so I have no idea what breaking a bone would feel like. I think I would maybe be in more pain than I am now, and in a way I’m
relieved I’m in pain that I can handle, rather than wanting to pass out. It’s keeping the adrenalin pumping through my veins and I know that when I crash, it’s going to be
awful.

I watch the chimera carefully, as I’ve been taught, and see it gathering itself for an attack. It doesn’t run at me, it doesn’t herd me. Instead it rears up on its hind legs
and tries to grab me. My blade flashes and I feel as it cuts deep into the fleshy bit beneath the creature’s arm (leg?) and I’m in the process of moving away when one of its claws rips
across my arm as it extends its reach. The skin on my upper arm splits like ripe fruit and for the briefest second, there’s nothing, then pain engulfs me and it’s so severe I scream in
shock and anger.

I turn on the creature, regardless of my sore leg and the pain in my arm, but before I can even move someone steps between us. There is a flurry of movement so fast I take an involuntary step
back, fully expecting a heavy blow to knock me out. Instead, I see the chimera being lifted in the air and flung bodily into the wall of the building opposite. There’s a sound I can barely
hear, a distracting droning noise and a wave of nausea washes over me. I blink rapidly to focus because what I’m seeing now is even more surreal than events in the cavern.

Thorn’s standing a few metres away. His chest is heaving and his wet hair is plastered to his pale face. His eyes have gone all black and his hands are clenching and unclenching at his
sides. For the longest moment he just stands there, looking dangerous, as if he’s fighting for control, then he stalks over to the chimera lying in a messy heap against the wall and lifts it
with one hand, shoving it hard up against the wall.

‘Who sent you?’ His voice is low, frightening. ‘Tell me or I will break every bone in your body.’

The chimera opens its mouth and grins a bloody grin. ‘Do it. He will fix us and we’ll keep coming back.’ Its gaze flares silver, the same colour as Ioric’s eyes when
controlled by the sorcerer. It barks in laughter, wrapping its massive paws around Thorn’s forearm. Then it chills us with the same voice we heard in the trolls’ cave. ‘ Have you
any idea what’s coming for you?’

A ball of light arcs from Thorn’s open left palm and hits the chimera high in the shoulder. Instead of dispersing, the magic grows into a tightly focused beam and drills into its fur and
the flesh beneath it. The creature squirms in his hold, curving those black talons around Thorn’s forearm, holding tighter, cutting into his skin. ‘No, why don’t you tell
me?’ Thorn says, his teeth clenched.

I’m next to them now and I’m shocked to see how ill Thorn looks. His cheeks are flushed while the rest of his face is sickly pale and his eyes have become otherworldly black; in
their depths I see madness. The thrumming noise, like thousands of angry wasps, comes from Thorn in waves, and when I lean my head forward I hear it even more clearly. I glance at him and my
eyesight jumps, going fuzzy, like a poorly tuned TV. It’s as if he’s vibrating at a really high frequency and I find it difficult to see him properly.

‘The Elder Gods are coming. Alba will be cast down and we will rule in your place.’ The creature’s jaw falls open and he laughs, his gaze directed at me. ‘Humans will
know their rightful place once more. You can’t fight their coming.’

‘Kit! Thorn! What the hell . . . ?’ I spin around at Aiden’s voice behind me and as I do I forget about my painful leg and rest my weight on it. I let out a yelp and slowly
crumple to the ground but before I reach it, Thorn has a strong arm around my waist.

The fierce predatory look in his eyes scares me and I bite back a sob of surprise and close my eyes briefly against the shock. I’ve grown to like Thorn, but he suddenly seems like a
dangerous stranger.

I’m aware of Aiden nearby now, talking to Thorn, but as he talks there’s the sound of something going squelch and snap. It’s a sound I recognize, a sound that’s haunted
my dreams ever since I killed for the first time. It’s the sound of bones breaking, of flesh tearing. Thorn is holding me against him, slightly to the side, so that when I open my eyes, I see
him drop the chimera with a look of detached distaste on his face. The thing that was once the chimera now looks like a dried husk no larger than a desiccated dog mummy from the Egypt exhibition in
the British Museum.

‘Come away now, Thorn. They are all dead.’ Aiden’s voice is low, calming, but I can sense real shock in his tone.

I look up at Thorn and I’m sickened by the wildness I see there. Gone is the civilized handsome prince who bowed to me in the forest as if we were meeting over canapés and
champagne. Instead the creature holding on to me looks untamed, resembling a thing from a time far less urbane, with eyes too large and darkly bright. Oddly, his pale skin shows a golden sheen in
the rain. I wipe my eyes and decide that I must be seeing things, because there’s no way he has snake scales beneath his skin.

‘I’m okay,’ I tell Thorn, my voice sounding far away, even to me. ‘I just hurt my leg. And my arm. But I’m okay.’

Aiden’s face appears in my line of sight and he looks really scared. ‘Kit, walk to me.’

The steel band resting around my waist loosens and I edge away from Thorn, slowly but surely. Aiden stands loose and open, reaching a hand towards me. I shake my head and instead I step away
from Thorn and turn to face him.

He’s bigger than he was before: taller, wider. He looks older too, the bones in his face more pronounced. Light plays over his skin, and for a brief moment longer I see an iridescent
diamond pattern along his cheeks and jaw, before it’s gone.

Thorn watches me intently and unblinkingly from unreadable eyes. It already feels as if I’m living in Alice’s Wonderland so the smile I give him is tentative and not just a tiny bit
freaked out.

‘Hey.’ I say to him. ‘Are you okay?’

For the longest time Thorn doesn’t move and I’m aware of the odd tableau we make, the three of us and three chimera bodies around us. At the back of my mind I register the sound of
police sirens in the distance.

‘We need to go,’ Aiden says. ‘I’ve my friend waiting with a car.’ I look at Aiden in surprise but he shrugs. ‘We need to get going. Now.’

‘Wait.’ Thorn’s voice is cold, matter of fact. ‘We can’t leave these for your authorities to find.’

Before either Aiden or I can respond, Thorn stalks to the first two chimera and places his hands on their chests. There is the same wrenching breaking noise as Thorn gathers up their essence.
When he stands up there’s nothing left of them at all and as a cold breeze races down the road, it lifts the ash the bodies turned into and disperses it into the air. He sways for a few
seconds before raising his head and nodding to himself.

I look up at the CCTV cameras. ‘What about those?’ I ask Aiden. ‘They would have filmed everything.’

‘They were knocked out the second those things came at you,’ Aiden replies confidently. ‘Fae glamour makes electronic equipment go wonky.’ He hesitates. ‘Kit, you
should know this.’

I open my mouth but shut it again. He’s right. How am I so out of it that I don’t remember one of the first things I was taught by the Blackharts?

‘Wonky? A technical term, huh?’ I say in an attempt to draw attention away from my failure. Aiden’s not fooled and his look is worried, on edge. Those sirens are coming closer,
so even if the CCTV don’t show anything, someone might have reported teenagers fighting some street thugs.

‘Are we good?’ he asks, looking at us both, concentrating on Thorn, who is standing with his back to us, his mind elsewhere.

‘I’m ready,’ Thorn says, his voice low. ‘Let’s go.’

We head past the hardier of the tourists who are gathered in the damp piazza watching a mime dressed as a silent bride do her thing. Thorn walks behind me and I can’t
help but feel my back itching, pressing back against his magic thrumming against my skin. It’s no longer as loud or as forceful as it was in the side street, but it’s still grating on
my nerves. I risk a glance over my shoulder. His face looks serious and thoughtful and I notice his eyes are their normal blue again. He catches my eye and quirks his lips at me, but it’s not
a real smile and because I can tell it isn’t, it hurts. I look away, leaning against Aiden, whose firm grip around my waist prevents me from falling flat on my face.