Her bouncing on the bed came to a gradual halt as she noticed a flock of black birds framed in the skylight. There were more of them than she had ever seen in one place before, and they appeared to be circling the building.
Clambering onto a chair, she opened the skylight and peered out. Ravens, and they were everywhere, perched on chimneys, the pitch of roofs, in gutters, and flying in that enormous black cloud. But not one of them made a single sound.
The sight unnerved her and she slammed the skylight shut, but her fear was quickly forgotten in the shock of seeing her room transformed. Vegetation obscured the walls, window and door. Clusters of acorns hung from oak branches. Holly grew across the cheap dressing table, and the bed was now a bower of ivy and mistletoe.
‘Daughter.’ The voice rolled out like a summer tide hitting the beach.
Laura fought the hammering of her heart and scanned the room. And there it was, in one corner, given away only by its red eyes. The figure was constructed of the same dense vegetation and merged perfectly into the background. Yet for all the wild strangeness, the leaf-face was unmistakably benign. It was the face carved into the stone and wood of medieval churches, the echo of the greenwood and the magical power of fertility.
‘Who are you?’ she asked with as much bravura as she could muster.
‘In your heart, you know, daughter.’
Laura felt the ghost of that knowledge at the back of her mind, infuriatingly just out of reach. ‘The Green Man?’ she ventured.
‘That is one of my names. Fragile Creatures have known me by many others. I have long watched over your people from the depths of the great forests, and I have guided and helped where I could. The Brothers and Sisters of Dragons have always been close to me. And you, daughter, have been closest of all.’
Laura felt a burning on her hand. The circle of interlocking leaves etched on her skin glowed a faint green. She had presumed it was a discreet tattoo, though she didn’t recall getting it.
‘The memory is lost to you, daughter, but you gave yourself to me and I changed you, to better prepare you for the arduous road ahead.’
Conflicting emotions threatened to tear Laura apart: fear and comfort, the desire to flee and to fall into the green embrace. This was the source of her unique ability to control plants and trees. ‘What do you want?’
‘Know this: the Devourer of All Things is aware of you, daughter, and of what you plan. It cannot abide the Blue Fire being returned to the land. My people flee — it will not allow them to remain in case they aid you. Soon, I too must slip into the long winter-sleep to preserve my power. But there may be other allies in the Great Dominions. Seek them out.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
The Green Man became tense, his leaves and branches shuddering. ‘You must leave this place quickly, daughter. Danger approaches.’ He motioned towards the skylight where the ravens pecked against the glass. ‘See. The
‘Church?’ Laura looked from the Green Man to the ravens, not comprehending.
‘Run, daughter,’ he said insistently. ‘Run!’
6
Church looked out of the window at the ravens, remembering a time more than a thousand years earlier when he had been told that the ravens and their premonition of death would follow him.
‘I’m scared,’ he realised as he watched the birds fly. ‘I never was before.’
‘Scared of what?’ Ruth asked.
‘When it was just me on my own, I’d take risks, do whatever needed to be done, even if it meant putting myself in danger. Now I’ve got something to lose. You.’
Ruth fell silent for a moment. ‘That’s bad.’
‘That’s bad. That’s good. That’s bad.’ Church shook his head, confused.
Mallory burst in, startling them. ‘We’ve got to get out of here. Now.’
‘What is it?’
‘Police. They’ve closed off the street, doing house-to-house.’
Church noticed a flash of blue and white lights further down the street.
‘Looking for us?’ Ruth asked as she stuffed her meagre possessions into a hold-all.
‘Got to be,’ Church said. ‘Get the others. We’ll go out the back, over the rear fence into the next garden. I checked the route earlier.’
As Mallory ran out, Laura was already emerging from her room, and Church could hear Shavi, Sophie and Caitlin talking insistently as they made their way down the stairs.
The hall still smelled of the landlord’s fry-up. Mallory checked the street through the small window at the side of the front door, then motioned to the others to move towards the back of the house. ‘They’ll be here any minute,’ he whispered. ‘There’s an armed unit wearing flak jackets. We won’t stand a chance if they get us in their cross-hairs.’
‘The anti-terrorist squad?’ Ruth said.
‘Makes sense.’ Church finished fastening the harness that held the sword hidden across his back. Ruth carried her spear in a long, customised, cylindrical map bag. ‘The spiders will have people in the top positions everywhere, but they’re still going to need some kind of cover story so they don’t risk wrecking the Mundane Spell. Branding us terrorists will do the job nicely.’
Church pushed past the others into the darkened kitchen. His boots made a wet, sticky sound on the old linoleum. He had only a second to register the inert body of the landlord lying in a shaft of streetlight falling through the window by the door before a stool swung out of the shadows. He half-fended it off, but it clipped his temple and he went down, unconscious.
The others pressed into the kitchen before they even realised Church had fallen, and they were stunned when the light flashed on.
‘Hmm. New faces, new blood.’ Leaning against the cooker was a man who exuded a dangerous air of power and flamboyance. He was a pool of gloom, wearing sunglasses despite the dark; long, black hair, a black goatee, a black overcoat and black motorcycle boots: a studied cliche that still managed to summon up an air of menace while laughing at itself.
‘The Libertarian,’ Shavi noted.
The Libertarian removed his sunglasses to reveal lidless eyes the colour of blood. ‘One name, amongst many. If Mr Churchill were awake he could not really claim to know me. Here at the source, I am a different person. At the height of my powers. I can touch you in a way I never could before. Touch you! Ah, euphemisms! I should have said “butcher you”.’
Mallory kicked the kitchen table so that it pinned the Libertarian’s legs against the cooker. At the same time, Caitlin snatched a carving knife from a block and threw it forcefully. It sank deep into the Libertarian’s shoulder, but although he winced slightly his smile did not waver.
‘Spirited. I like that.’
Caitlin followed up in rapid succession with the other five knives from the block. Shavi and Ruth helped up a groggy Church and dragged him out through the back door.
Mallory noticed that the Libertarian made no particular effort to pursue them, but he didn’t have time to consider why. Kicking the table hard one more time against the Libertarian’s legs, he snatched the key from inside the door and locked it behind him. Through the window, he saw the Libertarian pull out the knives one by one. The Libertarian saw Mallory watching and gave a little wave.
‘Well, you’re a vicious bitch,’ Laura said to Caitlin as they raced by the broken-paned greenhouse towards the thick bushes and tall fence at the bottom of the garden.
Caitlin looked dazed. ‘I just saw the knives and knew what to do.’
‘I had my doubts before, but you’re definitely on the first team.’
