Chaos Broken (12 page)

My last appointment of the day was with Blackgoat's accountant, who declared our situation unsustainable unless the company's cash flow increased. As if it wasn't all I'd been thinking about the last few weeks. I kept my sarcasm to a minimum and, after the accountant had left, I shooed out a group of Runners who were getting drunk in the kitchen, and locked Blackgoat's front door for the night.

Though it was a long walk and the evening sky threatened rain, I ambled home, picking up a dragon-fruit curry on the way. My eyes were peeled for Roman, but I didn't see his familiar figure in the crowds and I hoped Casper had come to take him back to the Outlands. Right now, I had enough drama in my life. Roman in Harken, with the Grigori looking for him, was an extra complication I didn't need.

As I reached my front door, I spied a streetwalker leaving the house next door, tucking money into her corset.

‘That time already?' I asked. Monthly protection fees were an evil necessity in Applecross and those who didn't fork out the money paid in other, more violent ways.

She gave a low chuckle. ‘I'm not collecting protection fees from you.'

‘Why not?' I asked. I'd always paid, ever since I'd moved in. Even Gideon and Orella paid. It was just the way things worked in Applecross.

The streetwalker leaned a shoulder against the trunk of the giant ash tree. ‘Word is you're to be left alone,' she said. ‘Word is, you're a friend of the big boss himself.'

‘That's the word, is it?' The heat from the curry container was starting to burn my hands, but I ignored it. ‘You hear any other words?'

Her eyes flicked to the graffiti that still marked my house. ‘None I'd want to repeat,' she answered shortly, then she strolled to the next house, hips rolling.

Wondering what secrets she knew, I let myself into the house. I was relieved I wasn't going to have to scratch around for some extra money, but I wondered what it was really going to cost me. Locking the door, I ate at the kitchen table, listening to the silence of the house and feeling more than a little lonely.

Once the curry was finished, I retrieved the two copies of the Aldebaran. I didn't have any marshmallows to celebrate the occasion, but I knew I'd put off burning the books long enough. Though it was my master plan to rid the world of these grimoires that needed my blood to bring to life the terrible spells inside, I suddenly felt a certain reluctance to destroy them. Wondering if it was because one of them symbolised an act of trust from someone who thought he was my half-brother, I went through the motion of stacking fresh logs in the fireplace. Reminding myself that I didn't exactly trust Gorath, I struck a match and lit the wood. After a good fire was crackling away I hesitated only a second before throwing the first book on the flames. Instinct made me step back and tense. I had been expecting a flurry of spark, or at least some unearthly, demonic screaming. But all I heard was the crackle of paper as the book blackened and burned. Sighing with relief, I picked up the second book. Opening it, I tore out the page that outlined the prophecy of the Dreadwitch and Howling King. I'd tried to read it a few times, but had gotten bored after the first few lines; the wording was too obtuse for me to follow. Maybe I'd try again, I reasoned, before tossing the second book on the fire.

Sitting back down, I stared at the pages. The script was hard to read, and as soon as I hit the word
perfidiousness
my eyes glazed and I knew I needed a dictionary.

A knock on my door was a welcome distraction and I gladly shoved the pages down the side of the couch cushion. A Mercury boy stood on my doorstep, hat in one hand and an envelope in the other.

‘Hang on.' Thinking it was Seth's reply to my request for a sit-down, I returned to the kitchen where I'd left my work-belt flung over a chair. Returning with some coins, I found the Mercury boy sweating and looking nervous. He passed me an envelope and I held out my hand to give him the coins. When he reached for them, I grabbed his wrist in a tight grip.

‘Something wrong?' I asked. ‘You looked worried.'

‘Get off me,' he squeaked. ‘Lemme go, lemme go.'

His little goblin face was so panicked that guilt made me release him, and he darted off before I could give him his payment. I ripped open the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. A pigtail the colour of apricot sat in the folds, one word scrawled on the page.

Pendergrast.

There was no signature or indication of where the letter had come from. But the small drop of blood at the bottom of the page was a rather ominous sign. The word didn't leave any room for misunderstandings either. After all, the Church of Saint Pendergrast now stood in rubble after I'd battled a hellspawn there.

Back in the kitchen, I threw my hooded coat back on and secured my work-belt over it. Guess my quiet night at home was shot to shit, since now I was going on an adventure to the one place I never wanted to revisit. But I knew who the pigtail belonged to and I'd be damned if I'd just sit at home and let an innocent die.

The last time I'd been at the Church of Saint Pendergrast I'd been helping the City Watch figure out how the church collapsed. A summoned hellspawn, free of its Calling Circle, had done the damage. But since that scenario was technically impossible, the City Watch was understandably resistant to the idea. Hundreds had witnessed the fight that destroyed dozens of buildings between the church and Avalon Square, but the official report described it as a darkcraft riot, and I'd grown tired of trying to set the record straight.

Alighting from the rickshaw one street over from my destination, I walked the rest of the way. A street lamp lit the crumbling pillars of the ruined church gate, and inside the yard the weeds brushed against my coat as I walked up the pathway and into the ruins.

Before me, crumbling brick buttresses loomed in the darkness like the exposed ribs of some massive, broken corpse. Flickering light from the street lamp broke through the darkness at the heart of the beast, but revealed nothing but rubble.

Heart galloping, I was thankful I'd sent a message to Crowhurst before leaving, requesting urgent back-up. I sent up a prayer to the Mother-Goddess Kianna that he wouldn't be too long. It was bloody obvious I was walking into a trap, and I had grabbed extra weapons to be ready for it. My hand were already full of salt and my spring-loaded rig was strapped to my arm. The vial of elixir that Fowler had given me was secured in one of my belt pockets and a throwing dagger was sheathed down my bra. I inched forward, going through the list of people who might have kidnapped Sabine to bring me here. Kalin sat at the top.

A weak light drew me around one broken partition and I spied a tiny ball of light bouncing in the air. And then, Sabine. She'd been tied to a chair and her body was slumped, head bent forward, her chin resting on her chest. Around the chair was a Calling Circle that closely resembled the one I'd seen around Poulter's body. The symbols were difficult to clearly make out from where I was crouched, but I saw enough to realise they were a series of numbers stacked close together like a madman's scribble.

‘You came.'

Kalin emerged from the deep shadows behind Sabine. He held a rusty-looking sword, and was followed by a few of the goons I'd meet in the playground, all armed with flintlocks and wooden clubs.

I leant forward on my cane. ‘My, my. Is this what kids do these days for shits and giggles?' I nodded at the Calling Circle. ‘Torturing young girls with mathematics? You are truly a sadistic little bastard.'

Kalin grinned and my heart wrenched; I could see Seth in that look. I wondered again why he had been left in the orphanage. I didn't know what Kalin wanted here tonight, but I knew I didn't want to kill kids. Hellfires, I didn't want to kill
anyone
. And regardless of who Seth was to me now, I couldn't hurt his own flesh and blood. My eyes settled on Sabine, relieved to see her chest rise and fall. Maybe it wouldn't come to that.

‘I knew you'd come,' Kalin said. ‘I knew you wouldn't be able to resist playing the hero.'

‘Sure, kid. You got me pegged.' I nodded at Sabine. ‘Want to tell me what this is all about and why you killed Poulter?'

Kalin twirled the old sword easily in his hand. ‘I admit, I killed the old woman first because she was always a bitch to me in school. Made my life miserable. But her sacrifice was not without reason. Just like the ones to come. All the sacrifices will be necessary in order for the transformation to take place.'

‘Transformation, eh?' My eyes dropped to the circle surrounding Sabine. ‘For you? Or are we speaking existentially? Throw me a bone here, kid.'

‘Stop calling me
kid
.' An oddly hollow sound rang out as Kalin stabbed the sword point into the stony ground. My eyes ran over the blade critically, wondering why he was carting it around. It had a tarnished blade and crusty bronze hilt, nothing special; as a magical icon it didn't ring any bells.

Kalin stared at me as if he was trying to make up his mind. He didn't look ready to tell me why we were here and I had a terrible feeling he was simply going to kill Sabine, then go for me. Perhaps bringing me here was just to get me in line as the next sacrifice for this ‘transformation'.

‘Why did you want to meet here?' I tried. ‘This place have some special meaning to you?'

‘It is a place of great power,' Kalin replied. ‘A hot spot of the ley-lines. Any spell performed here will feed on that energy.'

‘What spell are we talking about? Because if you're thinking of raising a hellspawn to make some sort of bargain, let me warn you, they'll lie their little black hearts out.'

‘I wouldn't waste my time on such petty bargains.' Kalin paused to spit on the ground. ‘And don't bother asking. I won't be sharing my secrets.'

‘But I already know at least one of your secrets.' I kept my voice low, threaded with steel and took a guess. ‘Seth Hallow is your father, isn't he? I found the picture you'd hidden in a hidey hole at the orphanage, under your bed.'

An uncertain look washed over Kalin's face. ‘How do you know it was mine?'

‘Because you look exactly like him,' I said blandly. ‘Do you think I'm Seth's enemy? Is that why you're doing this?'

‘Maybe.' His face was stony.

‘Does Seth know you're practising darkcraft?'

‘This is not darkcraft.'

‘Hate to break it to you, but whitecraft never includes death,' I said. ‘And if you're using darkcraft, then you'll be tracked by Witch Hunters. They can sniff an inexperienced darkcraft user a mile away.'

‘If you say so.'

I wanted to scream. Usually bad guys liked to brag, tell me their plans, give me a chance to figure out some weakness.
Something
. But Kalin wasn't giving me anything. So I just stared back at him and waited. He'd gone to the effort of calling me here and now he had to tell me why. Was it so I could beg for Sabine's life? I could do that. But there was a gleam in the little fucker's eye that I didn't trust.

‘Listen, you little shit,' I said. ‘You sent a message to bring me here and I came. Give me something to work with, or I'm going to start putting down your boys.'

Kalin's sword jerked up in a sudden movement. Afraid he was going for Sabine, my hand pitched salt, but a flash came from the left and a bolt sliced my upraised hand. I stumbled back, dropping my salt and cane. I fumbled for more salt, my fingers fiery with pain, but before I could find it, my arms were pinned behind me and all I could do was struggle.

Kalin laughed, dropping his sword. ‘I am here, serving a great master. One who shall rise again to reclaim his former glory.'

‘Kianna's tits,' I gasped. ‘You're the little shit who painted that slogan on my house. I should have guessed. Want to let me in on who you're trying to summon?'

‘It is a warning. It is a heralding. A proclamation,' Kalin said.

I tried to ignore the throbbing pain in my hand as I felt hot lines of blood drip off my fingers. ‘Seth won't be pleased if you hurt me. He's my friend and he's helped me many times.'

‘Friend?' Kalin walked to Sabine, stopping behind her unconscious form. ‘I thought you had forsaken him, in favour of the winged nephilim.'

‘How do you know about him?' I asked.

‘Everyone knows about him.'

‘Why doesn't that surprise me,' I sighed. ‘Look. I won't deny Seth's a shifty bastard. But we have history together and while I'm not sure we're friends, I know we're not enemies.'

Kalin frowned. ‘I don't believe you.'

‘Which part? That Seth's a shifty bastard, or that we have a bond?' I tried to wriggle for some leverage, but the hands holding me just tightened. ‘Look, why don't you just let Sabine and me go, there's no sense in getting yourself in any more trouble.'

‘I'm afraid I need her life.' He hefted the sword, aiming for Sabine's chest. ‘Hers, and many more. I just wanted us to meet this once, before it all ends.'

I let my knees buckle and pulled the person behind me off balance, then shot up, smashing my head into their chin. There was a bark of pain, and then I was free. Snatching salt, I flung it towards Kalin before he could finish his strike at Sabine. The salt flared bright, shotting forward on dagger points. Then I watched in disbelief as the spell disintegrated, failing to skewer the little bastard. Kalin dusted some stray salt grains off his shirt.

‘I am beyond your low-magic,' he said. ‘Nothing can touch me now.'

The bittersweet taste of darkcraft flooded my mouth and I spat on the ground.

Kalin laughed. ‘You aren't so tough.'

‘Just warming up, kid.' Spinning, I engaged the rig on my arm and fired off my three shots. Since I was shooting in the dark I was pretty sure I missed anything useful, but that was fine because it gave me time to grab some Sucker Punch Special from my belt.