Drinking Midnight Wine (30 page)
Read Drinking Midnight Wine Online
Authors: Simon R. Green
“Because you love me.”
“Do I? Do you care for me at all, Gayle? Does my pain mean anything to you?”
“I care about it. But I can’t let it matter to me. I have to see the bigger picture.”
“You can’t see anything anymore! You’re as divorced from what’s really going on as your crazy sister. She said I ought to ask Jimmy Thunder for help, and I’m beginning to think she might be right. He has good contacts, in Veritie and in Mysterie, and I don’t think he’d lower himself to betray me the way you did.”
Gayle stiffened at the bitterness in his voice. “I did what I had to! You can’t see things as I have to. And you can’t trust anything Luna says. She’s crazy.”
“Then why did we go to see her?”
“Don’t you question me, Toby Dexter. You don’t have the right!”
“I don’t have the right? I died for you, Gayle!”
“I never said I loved you,” said Gayle. “I tried to warn you away, told you you’d only get hurt if you insisted on hanging around me. I do care for you, Toby, but I’ll sacrifice you in a moment, if I have to. I have greater responsibilities, greater duties, than you can imagine, and I can’t put them aside for one lovesick young fool who followed me through the wrong door.”
“I died for you because I trusted you.”
“I’ve seen a lot of people die.”
“Damn you.”
Gayle looked at him tiredly. “What do you want from me, Toby? I can’t feel for you the way you want me to feel. I never asked you to love me, never wanted it. I care for lots of people, and often I can’t save them either. If you weren’t a focal point, I’d have cut you loose long ago. As it is, we might as well talk to Jimmy again. I’ve run out of ideas.”
Toby sniffed. “I feel safer already.”
Eight
At Home with Leo Morn
S
AFE AND SECURE in the real world, Leo Morn lived in a charming little seventeenth-century cottage on the banks of the Kennet and Avon Canal. It was a pleasant, isolated domicile, with thick, solid walls of the local creamy-gray stone, heavy oaken doors, and latticed windows, topped with the traditional thatched roof. The only sign of modernity was the television aerial holding up the rather rickety-looking chimney stack. There was a burglar alarm, but Leo hardly ever bothered setting it, on the unanswerable grounds that he owned nothing worth stealing. The cottage was a comfortable distance away from the hustle and bustle of the town center, while still within easy walking distance of the nearest pub. From the outside, Leo’s cottage was a picturesque, even enchanting sight, a relic of times past and qualities not forgotten. Inside, it was a dump, and visitors had to be very careful where they put their feet. Some men just aren’t suited to living alone. In fact, some men are absolute pigs when they don’t have a woman running around cleaning up after them.
AFE AND SECURE in the real world, Leo Morn lived in a charming little seventeenth-century cottage on the banks of the Kennet and Avon Canal. It was a pleasant, isolated domicile, with thick, solid walls of the local creamy-gray stone, heavy oaken doors, and latticed windows, topped with the traditional thatched roof. The only sign of modernity was the television aerial holding up the rather rickety-looking chimney stack. There was a burglar alarm, but Leo hardly ever bothered setting it, on the unanswerable grounds that he owned nothing worth stealing. The cottage was a comfortable distance away from the hustle and bustle of the town center, while still within easy walking distance of the nearest pub. From the outside, Leo’s cottage was a picturesque, even enchanting sight, a relic of times past and qualities not forgotten. Inside, it was a dump, and visitors had to be very careful where they put their feet. Some men just aren’t suited to living alone. In fact, some men are absolute pigs when they don’t have a woman running around cleaning up after them.
Leo Morn didn’t give a damn. Mostly.
Today he scowled fiercely as he kicked his way through the accumulated junk and rubbish cluttering up the floor of his living room. Normally he wouldn’t even have seen it, but right then he needed something to take out his bad temper on. So old pizza boxes, stacks of old newspapers and magazines, and mounds of general refuse best not investigated too closely went flying this way and that under the urging of his boot, making the living room even more of a disaster area than it had been before. Leo ran out of energy before he ran out of bile, and reluctantly slumped into his favorite chair. He looked moodily at the antique Moroccan table beside him, still layered with the debris of several meals. Leo only ever cleaned up after meals when there wasn’t any room left for the latest addition. In fact, he didn’t think he’d ever taken the cloth off the table since the day he first put it on. This in turn reminded him of the tottering piles of dirty crockery currently filling the kitchen sink, but he pushed the thought firmly aside. He was depressed enough as it was.
Leo chewed cheerlessly at the week-old slice of pizza he’d found stuck to the top of his bedside table. The cold crust was overly crunchy, but the pepperoni still had a pleasant tang. Leo was a great comfort eater, when he couldn’t get sex. The cottage had always been his shelter, his safe haven, his refuge from all the demands the world insisted on making on him, and the growing certainty that he was going to have to leave it depressed him mightily. Not that he had any choice in the matter. Hob had seen him, back at Blackacre farmhouse, and it was only a matter of time before he, or more likely one of his nastier agents, came looking for the poor deluded fool who had dared to spy on the great and powerful Nicholas Hob. Leo had decided not to be around when that happened. In fact, very soon now he was going to choose a horizon and then disappear over it at speed. He finished the last of the pizza, licked his fingers, and scowled about him. He was really going to miss this cottage. Particularly after all he’d gone through to acquire it.
The cottage was a listed building, an architectural treasure of historical interest protected by the National Trust, and therefore not surprisingly worth at least a hundred and fifty thousand pounds on the open market. Leo couldn’t have raised that kind of money if his life had depended on it, but he’d set his heart on living there, so he acquired it the way he usually got things he wanted but couldn’t afford: by being sneaky, underhanded, and utterly conscienceless. In this case that involved tracking down the pleasant fortyish widow who owned the property, and sleeping with her. He went on sleeping with her until she agreed to sell him the cottage, for a staggeringly low sum, waited till all the contracts had been signed and exchanged, and then stopped sleeping with her. Leo wasn’t much of a one for looking back. He never answered her phone calls, didn’t even bother opening her letters, and in the end she left him alone to enjoy his cottage. Leo had heard about guilt, conscience, and integrity, and wanted nothing to do with any of them. They just complicated things and got in the way of a comfortable life.
The cold pizza left him even hungrier. He surged up out of his chair and stomped off into the adjoining kitchen. He headed straight for the fridge, not even glancing at the packed sink, and tugged open its filthy, fingerprinted door. Next to the piled-up six-packs was a fat leg of lamb, fresh from the butcher’s that morning—still raw and bloody, the way he liked it. He took it out and ripped off the shrink-wrapping, forcing the fridge door shut again with his shoulder. His nostrils twitched at the delicious smell, and he chewed hungrily at the raw meat and gnawed on the bone as he made his way back into the living room. The simplest pleasures were the best. And he always got hungry when he was planning something.
Right now he was planning on running away, and the only thing left to be decided was how far he’d have to go before he could be sure he was safe.
The voice of his Brother Under The Hill intruded on his thoughts, the usual nagging reminder of things left undone.
I thought we were going to talk to someone about what we discovered at Blackacre Farm? About Hob raising the dead from their graves?
I thought we were going to talk to someone about what we discovered at Blackacre Farm? About Hob raising the dead from their graves?
“I have thought about it, and the only thing I feel like saying is good-bye,”
Leo said firmly.
“I am not stupid enough to go up against the likes of Nicholas Hob and Angel. They could chew me up and spit me out, and not even notice unless part of me got stuck in their teeth.”
Leo said firmly.
“I am not stupid enough to go up against the likes of Nicholas Hob and Angel. They could chew me up and spit me out, and not even notice unless part of me got stuck in their teeth.”
Even after they dragged your friend Reed up out of his grave and sent him walking through the town?
“All the more reason not to stick around so he could do the same thing to me. Reed would understand. He knew he couldn’t depend on me, even when he was alive.”
If Nicholas Hob is up to something big, where can you go and still be safe?
“I’ll lose myself in London. I’ve done it before. There’s always enough magical shit going on in the Smoke that even the Hob won’t be able to find me. I still have my old contacts in the clubs, from the last time I toured there. They loved me at Strangefellows. Whatever Hob’s up to, it isn’t my responsibility to do anything about it.”
No. It never is, is it?
“Look, whatever’s going to happen, I do not want to be here at ground zero when it goes off.”
Are you planning on telling anyone before you leave?
“No.”
Are you planning on taking anyone with you?
“No.”
I would say I’m disappointed, but I’ve known you too long. Your father—
“My father got himself and my mother killed, trying to play the hero! Trying to live up to what you wanted him to be! I’ve got more sense.”
The Brother sighed heavily.
I’ve raised Morns for generations. Been guardian to a line of heroes and warriors. Where did I go wrong with you, Leo?
I’ve raised Morns for generations. Been guardian to a line of heroes and warriors. Where did I go wrong with you, Leo?
“You let my parents die.”
Leo realized he’d eaten all the meat off the bone. He cracked the bone in two to get at the marrow, got out as much as he could be bothered with, and then threw the pieces of bone away. They disappeared into the sea of rubbish on the floor. Leo dropped back into his comfortable chair, all his energy suddenly gone. He knew he had to leave, and soon. He knew that every moment he delayed was a risk, but leaving his home and his town didn’t come easily to him. He’d put a lot of effort into establishing a comfortable, undemanding,
safe
life, and he fiercely resented having to give it up. All Leo had ever wanted was to be left alone, to drift through his life as he saw fit, with no encumbrances and no commitments. And mostly, he’d achieved that. No great accomplishments, no triumphs to boast of, but no duties and no dependents either. No responsibilities to anyone, or for anyone. And now, because of his curiosity, and a vague feeling that he ought to avenge a dead friend, he was going to have to give it all up, leave behind the few things he genuinely valued, to run off and hide in the grubbier bolt-holes of the Smoke. It wasn’t fair.
safe
life, and he fiercely resented having to give it up. All Leo had ever wanted was to be left alone, to drift through his life as he saw fit, with no encumbrances and no commitments. And mostly, he’d achieved that. No great accomplishments, no triumphs to boast of, but no duties and no dependents either. No responsibilities to anyone, or for anyone. And now, because of his curiosity, and a vague feeling that he ought to avenge a dead friend, he was going to have to give it all up, leave behind the few things he genuinely valued, to run off and hide in the grubbier bolt-holes of the Smoke. It wasn’t fair.
Will you be taking anything with you?
said his Brother, echoing his thoughts.
said his Brother, echoing his thoughts.
“Would you?”
said Leo.
“It’s all junk. Stuff that fell off my life when I wasn’t looking. There’s nothing here I can’t replace in London. Travel light, travel fast. I’ll still be able to hear your nagging voice. What else is there that matters?”
said Leo.
“It’s all junk. Stuff that fell off my life when I wasn’t looking. There’s nothing here I can’t replace in London. Travel light, travel fast. I’ll still be able to hear your nagging voice. What else is there that matters?”
Are you really going to leave your whole life behind?
“A life?”
said Leo, with sudden bitter honesty.
“That’s something other people have, isn’t it? My life ended the day my parents were taken from me. I was ten years old, remember? Hell of a birthday present. Since then, there’s just been me. Doing what I have to to get by. Lots of acquaintances, but few real friends. Too wild an animal for most people, civilized people. I never fit in, never really wanted to. Damned by my father’s legacy to be a lone wolf. All I’ve had, all I’ve ever really had, is you. And that’s only because the exorcism didn’t work.”
said Leo, with sudden bitter honesty.
“That’s something other people have, isn’t it? My life ended the day my parents were taken from me. I was ten years old, remember? Hell of a birthday present. Since then, there’s just been me. Doing what I have to to get by. Lots of acquaintances, but few real friends. Too wild an animal for most people, civilized people. I never fit in, never really wanted to. Damned by my father’s legacy to be a lone wolf. All I’ve had, all I’ve ever really had, is you. And that’s only because the exorcism didn’t work.”
What about your many girlfriends? Shouldn’t you at least call them, tell them you’re leaving? Some of them might actually worry about you.
“I seriously doubt it. If you’d been paying attention, you’d know that none of them are currently speaking to me. I keep telling them I don’t do the commitment thing, but they never listen. They just smile and nod and think,
This time it’ll be different,
until finally I have to rub their noses in it. And then they get all upset. Sometimes I think I should prepare a form letter to hand out in advance, just so they’ve got it in writing.”
This time it’ll be different,
until finally I have to rub their noses in it. And then they get all upset. Sometimes I think I should prepare a form letter to hand out in advance, just so they’ve got it in writing.”
It certainly might have helped the one who cut her wrists.
“I drove her to the hospital, didn’t I?”
Why are you always breaking up with them, Leo? Some of them really do care for you, though God alone knows why they should.
Leo sighed tiredly.
“If you leave them first, they don’t get a chance to hurt you by leaving.”
“If you leave them first, they don’t get a chance to hurt you by leaving.”
Like your parents left you?
“Shut up. Just shut the hell up. Let me think.”
Leo lurched to his feet and kicked the hell out of everything around him, including the fittings and furniture. He broke a satisfying number of things, and generally redistributed a lot of the junk on the floor, but in the end nothing had changed. His life was still the same. He stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily, head hanging down, and couldn’t say he felt any better. Things had come to a pretty pass when even casual violence and destructiveness couldn’t comfort him. As always, when pushed into a corner, Leo lashed out.
“Stop trying to make me feel guilty about leaving! There’s nothing I can do here, and you know it! Not against Nicholas Hob and Angel!”
I know many things,
said his Brother Under The Hill calmly.
I see the past as well as the present, and sometimes hints of things to come. I see the ever-changing web of fate, and the way its strands reach subtly out to entangle people, struggle as they may. Whatever Hob is planning, it must be something big, something unprecedentedly significant, even for him. It’s hard for me to see him at the best of times, given who and what he is, but right now the skeins of fate are boiling all around Blackacre, changing and reforming with every moment, with every thought and decision Nicholas Hob has. I’ve never seen such terrible potential in one place before. Whatever he’s planning threatens the whole of Mysterie.
said his Brother Under The Hill calmly.
I see the past as well as the present, and sometimes hints of things to come. I see the ever-changing web of fate, and the way its strands reach subtly out to entangle people, struggle as they may. Whatever Hob is planning, it must be something big, something unprecedentedly significant, even for him. It’s hard for me to see him at the best of times, given who and what he is, but right now the skeins of fate are boiling all around Blackacre, changing and reforming with every moment, with every thought and decision Nicholas Hob has. I’ve never seen such terrible potential in one place before. Whatever he’s planning threatens the whole of Mysterie.
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