Martin’s forehead creased, head shaking. He swore quietly as he laid the body against the wall. Scarlet stared at her hands, wondering why they were shaking so much. She looked down at the body and realised it wasn’t just her hands that were shaking. She stepped away, hands held out in defence, then turned and vomited against the far wall of the tunnel.
She turned and looked back at the body. She couldn’t imagine ever not seeing it. Every time she closed her eyes, she’d see it, see the eyes staring at her. He was dead, just like that.
Her master knelt before the body, hand slipping inside the bomber jacket, and emerging a few moments later with a wallet. He turned back to her. Their eyes met and he blinked, then stepped closer and opened his arms wide.
She buried her face in his chest and wept, hoping the tears would wash the vision away. They didn’t though and she pushed herself away from him, scrubbing her face with her sleeve, not wanting to look down the tunnel and see if anyone was still watching them.
She was supposed to be able to handle stuff now. Someone-possibly her computer-thought she could save the world, so she should be able to handle a dead body. She glanced over at it and the shaking began again, and she wondered for the life of her why anyone thought she could do anything dangerous, let alone save the world.
Martin was leafing through the wallet, then he tossed it onto the body with a hiss. ‘Nothing, not even a library card.’
‘Do bad guys normally read, then?’
He gave her a look, which softened as he took in her desperate grin. ‘Sorry, I deplore the violence, the whole thing, but we could have done with knowing something about him.’
‘How did he die?’
‘Poison. He had something, either in his mouth already, or close at hand.’
‘He killed himself?’ Her voice was a whisper as her head shook.
Martin nodded. ‘He had secrets we weren’t to know. He is linked to the Undying, of that there is no doubt. There aren’t many sects around who still practice this level of dedication, but they are out there, and one such could well be the group attempting to raise him.’
‘Sorry, sect?’
‘A religious group, often with a single purpose in mind.’
‘Like raising Jesus’s dead/not dead twin brother?’
‘Yes, exactly.’
They stood in silence for a moment, Scarlet wanting to look away from the body but not managing it. It was horribly compelling, like reality TV. It was wrong, and quite possibly evil, but strangely difficult to switch off. Martin nodded, once, then guided her gently round. ‘Come, let us find The Healer.’
They set off down the corridor, leaving behind them a dead boy not much older than she. When Scarlet glanced back, there were already two people gathered around the body. She bit back a whimper as one of them took his feet and dragged him away into the darkness.
She hurried after Martin, tugging at his sleeve. ‘So where did you learn to do all the, you know, sword fighting stuff?’
‘The Council.’
‘What did you do for them?’
There was a long pause, long enough for her to wonder if she’d asked the wrong question, then to decide she had, then to decide she didn’t care all that much, and that he needed to stop being so sensitive, and man up a little. Then he spoke.
‘I was a soldier.’
‘What, like uniform and a gun, that kinda thing?’
‘No. Their soldiers are individual, trained in magical warfare, sent to do very specific tasks.’
‘So, have you…’ She tailed off, swallowing back the bile that threatened to climb back up her throat. Did she want to know?
‘Killed someone? Yes.’ He looked down, stopping. ‘Yes, I did, and I can’t change it. Or take it back, however much I wish I could.’
She blinked, suddenly not wanting to look at him. Of course he had, how had she been naive enough to think otherwise? Actually, she hadn’t thought about it at all, not until now. It was possible, if she tried really hard, to stop thinking about it, maybe. She just needed something else to focus on.
‘So, who’s this Healer guy?’
Martin shifted his shoulders, and resumed walking. His voice was gruff and quiet when he replied. ‘He’s an old…friend of mine, from when I worked for The Council. Whether he remembers me, or the friendship, we’ll find out.’
She wasn’t sure what he meant by that and they walked on in silence until they reached a door, upon which Martin rapped loudly. A few moments later it swung in and they were faced with a man bearing a huge smile, his teeth white against his dark skin.
He stared at them for a second and the smile faded. ‘Martin. What are you doing here?’
That was great. She was guessing, and it was only a guess, that the friendship wasn’t perhaps as strong as Martin had made out. Her master stepped closer, voice soft. ‘The Undying is coming, Healer, we need some help.’
The man stepped back, folding his arms and staring down his nose at them both. ‘So, after three years, you need help and just turn up on my doorstep, as though we saw one another last week?’
Scarlet sighed and stepped forward. ‘Hi, my name’s Joanna. We’ve never actually met, so if you wanna be pissed at Martin, be my guest, I know it’s easy, but please don’t take it out on me.’
She stuck her hand out and the man, eyebrows raised, took it without apparently realising what he was doing. They shook and Scarlet gave him a big smile. ‘Can we come in please?’
The man, still looking slightly bemused, took a step back and Scarlet pushed her way past and into his home. Martin followed close behind and they were soon ensconced in a pair of high back chairs, facing a desk bearing precisely nothing.
The healer sat opposite them, opened a drawer, and took out a pad of paper and a pen, laying them just so on the dark wooden table. OCD much? It made a nice change from Martin’s chaos though. She didn’t have a desk. There wasn’t room in her bedroom, and besides, why use a desk when there was a perfectly good bed to sit on?
‘I normally charge for my time, but since you have arrived with this good-for-nothing, I will give you the first five minutes gratis. What can I do for you?’
‘The Undying guy, thing, whatever, is rising like, this Christmas, and we’d really like it if he didn’t. Do you know what the charms of Undoing are, please?’
He sat back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His lips were moving, a low fast chant flowing from him, without pause. It was like having the TV on in the background. It was also creepy as hell.
Finally he stopped, like someone had turned off the tap, and he sat forward, leaning his forearms on the desk and clearing his throat. ‘The charms of Undoing, when combined and potentised through the speaking of the correct words, will cause the spells used for the raising of the Undying, to cease in the correct function.’
‘Um, in English please?’
The Healer gave the slightest of smiles. ‘Find the charms, get to the grave, say the right thing, and the spell to raise the Undying will no longer work. Understand?’
She nodded. ‘Seems simple enough. Where can we find them?’
Hs leaned back again, repeating the scary mumbling thing. It was quicker this time. ‘The first of the charms is a living creature, and may be discovered—’
‘Hang on, sorry, give me a moment.’ She pulled her phone out and flicked on the voice recorder, holding it out toward him. He looked at it, eyebrows raised. ‘Sorry, if it isn’t really good poetry or song lyrics, I’m gonna forget it.’
He shook his head and went on. ‘The first of the charms is a living creature and may be discovered—
He stopped, mouth still open and she sat forward. ‘Yes, may be discovered?’
He fell forward, the hilt of the knife buried in his back now angled toward the ceiling. She screamed, shoving herself back in her chair, but it caught on the rug and toppled over backward. Her head slammed against the hard back, her teeth closing on her tongue, and she shouted in pain.
She flapped about in the chair as the sounds of fighting filled the room. She heard Martin grunt, followed by a loud thump, then a strange face appeared above hers, leering down.
‘Forget this. The Undying will rise and nothing you do will stop it. Forget this, or you will suffer the same fate as the Healer.’
The face vanished and she rolled out of the chair onto her side. Her mouth was filled with blood and she crawled to the desk then pulled herself up. Her eyes came in line with the body of the Healer and she jumped, moaning in the back of her throat.
Then she saw Martin lying face down, blood running from beneath him to pool on the hardwood floor.
Next Installment Friday 21st February
