Jack of Ravens (73 page)
Its bestial qualities increased the beat of her heart another step, and she became afraid that her body would betray her with some random muscle spasm. Yet she had to see. Twisting her head slowly, she looked through the branches of the bush.
There was not a hint of humanity in the brutish thing that waited. Eyes
gleamed with a yellowish light in a face that combined the qualities of hog and gorilla. The body was thick-set and covered with powerful muscles. From its posture, Caitlin couldn’t be sure if it moved on two legs or all four. She saw it was clothed, and with a second, chill glance, she realised the nature of those clothes. Flayed human skin, scalps, and internal organs had been stitched together in some sickening amalgam of uniform and war trophy. An eyeless face stared back at her blankly from the side of the creature’s head.
It waited for a full thirty seconds that felt like minutes and then moved rapidly off, keeping low.
When she was sure it was gone, Caitlin asked, What was that?’
Shavi searched the moorland until he was satisfied they were safe. ‘A Redcap,’ he said. ‘They are the shock troops of the enemy.’ He returned his attention to Caitlin and a look of sympathy crossed his face. I am so sorry. The world is not the way you believe it to be.’
3
London sleeps, London dreams. Hyde Park is quiet. The tourists will not return until the fumes and the roar of constant traffic fill Lancaster Gate. Moonlight catches the still pools in the Italian Gardens. The statue of Peter Pan watches over the boundary between the magical and the real, conjuring dreams of stolen children and other worlds.
Hunter brought his knife away from the throat and stepped back to avoid the arterial flow. Another job well done, more peaceful sleep for the country. On the surface his flamboyant, piratical appearance – long black hair tied back with a black ribbon, single gold earring, devilish goatee – belied the nature of the work he did; underneath, it illuminated it perfectly: a New Age cut-throat.
Dragging the body into the cover of the trees, he meticulously wiped his blade on the jacket. He needed to sleep; his weariness had built up brick by brick over the relentless weeks and months, in Bosnia and Fallujah, Tehran and Pristina, and a score of other places that all merged into one. Only the faces remained different. Superficially they were similar, glassy-eyed and bloodless, but he could never forget the telling detail: a frozen, accusing stare, the faint impression of contempt or betrayal on the lips. Everyone the same, every one different.
‘Nice job.’ A woman’s voice, laced with sarcasm.
Hunter started; no one ever crept up on him unawares. His shock was quickly brought under control, the knife palmed, ready for use. He didn’t speak. Instead, he quickly scanned the surroundings and was surprised once more that he couldn’t locate the intruder.
What are you? Some kind of psycho? Existence chose well this time.’ A pause. Actually, situation normal.’ Now he had a lock on her position. He shifted his body weight, ready.
The woman recognised his subtle movement. If you’re thinking of using that knife on me, it won’t do any good. I’ve had worse things than that stuck in me.’ Her tone highlighted the double entendre.
The branches of an overgrown bush parted and the woman stepped brazenly out. She had white-blonde hair and an expression that fell somewhere between challenging and seductive. Her smile suggested his coldly efficient brutality had not scared her in the slightest.
Hunter weighed his options. He couldn’t leave behind any witnesses. His superiors in Vauxhall would instantly shift him into the box marked Liability’, with all the repercussions that went with it. Nor was he prepared to hurt an ‘innocent’ (and the one thing that kept him going was that none of his victims were ‘innocent’).
He lunged quickly, hoping to resolve his dilemma once he had her in a position where she couldn’t raise the alarm. As he shifted his weight, he found his ankles mysteriously constricted and he pitched forward to the ground. Long grass was inexplicably wrapped tightly around his feet.
That’s how I like my men,’ the woman mocked. On their knees before me.’ She tapped his arm lightly with her motorcycle boot, then skipped out of the way when he went for her. So, did you see what I did there?’ She nodded towards his feet.
You did that?’
‘Yes, I’m a beautiful wood nymph.’
‘You have a very high opinion of yourself.’
‘I like to call it realistic.’ She sat cross-legged, just out of reach.
Hunter began to saw through the strong, fibrous grass with his knife. You should start running now,’ he said.
I never run. Besides, I can do much worse than that. You know how painful it is when you get a thorn stuck in your thumb? Now imagine that going through your eye and into your brain.’
Her statement held such utter conviction Hunter had to believe she thought she could do it. Who are you?’
My name is Laura DuSantiago and I am here to save the world,’ she said archly. And you go by the name of Hunter when you’re not using one of your many aliases.’
Who do you work for?’
‘Existence.’ She lay down and stared flirtatiously into his face. ‘I’m not interested in the stupid little boy games you’ve been playing. I’ve got a bigger agenda.’
Which is?’ Hunter freed himself, then balanced the knife on the palm of his hand before thrusting it into the ground.
Laura appeared quietly impressed by his choice. Ever felt this life you’re leading was wrong? Made-up? That you’ve got another life you can’t quite remember?’
Hunter gave nothing away.
‘Do certain places give you a real buzz, like there’s electricity in the ground? Do you get creeped out by a man called Rourke?’
His bland, ever-friendly line manager. How do you know about Rourke?’
Oh, he gets around. Have we had sex?’ she added with a hint of puzzlement that did not appear manufactured.
I think I’d know.’ Yet even after he’d said the words, he realised that, strangely, he wasn’t sure. But we could get it out of the way now if you like.’
‘I think you ought to be disposing of that body first.’ She teased him with her eyes. ‘But first I’ve got a little fairy story to tell you. About five great heroes, a magical quest, and a threat that could destroy everything we hold dear.’
Okay.’ Hunter lounged back with his hands behind his head. Then can we have sex?’
A Gollancz eBook
Copyright © Mark Chadbourn 2006
All rights reserved.
The right of Mark Chadbourn to be identified as the author
of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in Great Britain in 2006 by
Gollancz
The Orion Publishing Group Ltd
Orion House
5 Upper Saint Martin’s Lane
London, WC2H 9EA
An Hachette UK Company
This eBook first published in 2010 by Gollancz.
A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978 0 575 10562 1
All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or
dead, is purely coincidental.
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