This was, in hindsight, entirely predictable. What was it about the magic fraternity, that despite all the wonderful stuff they could do, it still came down to threats of violence? What was wrong with asking nicely, or bargaining maybe?
She glanced around the room. There were seven of them, all as thin as the man who’d brought them here, all carrying long, curved swords with thin blades. They were, she was fairly certain, unlikely to respond well to her asking where the toilet was.
Scarlet swallowed, and shook her head. ‘What else do we get?’
‘Your life isn’t enough?’
‘It’s a start.’
Seeker sat back, eyebrows raised, and chuckled, talking now to Martin. ‘She has stones, this one, more perhaps than you. You chose well.’
Martin, in a dry tone she’d never heard from him before, replied. ‘I didn’t chose, not as such. But she asks you a reasonable question. Why should we tell you?’
‘Because you have as much concern about the world ending as I do. Do you need any other reason?’
Fair point. Surely there was something she could get from this? What was happening? When did she suddenly become like all the others, desperate to get something? Actually, she’d always been like that, only before, the quest had been for chocolate, or pizza, or maybe both.
The silence stretched out, and she was about to give up, when Seeker shrugged, and cracked his knuckles. ‘I can offer you information, in the future, should you need it.’
Her first thought was of Martin, and his wife, and she realised things had changed. She nodded. ‘That sounds reasonable. This is what we know.’
She told him about the poem, and the horse and book, but stayed quiet about the necklace. He didn’t have to know everything. When she’d finished, he was nodding. ‘These things, the horse and the book? What are they for?’
He was looking at Martin when he said that, and her master shook his head. ‘I don’t know, not yet, but we’ll work it out.’
Seeker stood, paced once across the room and back again, clapping his hands together. ‘Well enough, I suppose. Where are you bound now?’
Martin stood, clearing his throat. ‘We have others to visit here, before we leave. We shall see you again, I’m sure.’
He headed for the exit, and Scarlet realised time was up. She gave Seeker a wave, and headed after Martin. Only once they were back in the tunnel, beneath the yellow glow of the bulbs, did Martin speak.
‘That was well played, my apprentice, well played indeed. Information is never given cheap, not down here. You failed to mention the necklace, I noticed.’
‘Uh, yeah, must have slipped my mind. Look, Martin, I didn’t mention it before ‘cause we didn’t have time, but when I put it on, I hear voices.’
His head jerked up. ‘Do you recognise them?’
‘No, but they know about me. They said they were going to kill me.’
‘Did they say why?’
‘Something about charms of Undoing.’
Martin grabbed her hand, nodding at her with eyes wide. ‘Are you sure? That’s exactly what they said?’
‘Uh, yeah, something like, ‘we must find the Slater girl, before she finds the charms of Undoing.’
‘Did they really sound like that?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like a sort of bad James Earl Jones impression?’
She shrugged. ‘Well, maybe not quite so Darth Vader, but it was pretty deep.’
He nodded. ‘That’s terrific, really.’
‘What, that they’re going to kill me?’
‘Oh, no, well, that isn’t particularly good news, but the charms of Undoing may well be the only chance we’ve got. Now we need to figure out where they are.’
‘Yeah, and like, what they are, you know?’
(c) Kayleigh Fulbrook
He nodded, absently, then turned and strode away. ‘Come, we can visit The Healer before we have to get you home.’
‘Does no one around here have normal names?’
He chuckled. ‘Do you not find it useful? I’d have thought naming people by their skill set was a most logical way to behave.’
‘Well, yeah, but what about if you’re a street cleaner, or you do advertising or something? It’s like really bad superhero names.’
He gave her a look, and shook his head. ‘I don’t think you’ll find too many of either of those down here. Come.’
He set off at a march, first through the market, then down one of the many tunnels branching away from it. This one was better lit than the others, and there were doors at irregular intervals, bearing dull metal plaques. Peering at one on the way past, she spotted a ‘Mgc. Alewis Hardsteady, Curses pertaining to matters of the heart.’
‘What is this, some kind of health centre?’
Martin laughed. ‘This is the Underworld. If you can think of it, this is where you can get it.’
‘Ooh, OK, I’m thinking of Johnny Depp, with the Pirates of the Caribbean mustache, but, like, jeans and no top.’ She paused. ‘Right, where is he?’
Martin had stopped, and was staring at her, brows creased together. ‘Is nothing serious?’
She grinned sheepishly. ‘Um, should he have a top on? Is it the nudity bit?’
He sighed, long suffering, and she poked him in the chest. ‘Lighten up, fella, it’s not all doom and gloom.’
‘Actually, I think you might find it is.’
The voice that spoke was familiar, although she couldn’t place it, and when she turned around, she found she didn’t know the face at all. He was remarkably normal, with the worst sort of emo haircut that meant she couldn’t see his eyes, and a big puffer jacket.
He was wearing a smile that made him look about fifteen, but when he lifted his hand, the fire burning on his palm was very serious. ‘Is he from the Council?’ She spoke from the side of her mouth.
‘No, I’m not sure where he’s from.’ Martin raised his voice. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know you. What can we do for you?’
The manboy smiled, and shook his head. ‘Even in my wildest dreams I didn’t expect you to actually say that. What can you do for me? You can die.’
His hands shot forward, and the fire came hurtling toward them.
Next Installment Monday 17th February
