The motion itself was eerie in its unworldliness, but occasionally they picked out tiny sparks of red light they all knew must be eyes. Laura felt the frisson most acutely when she remembered the scarecrow they had passed on the way in.
Whatever the creatures were, they were like a force of nature in the way they howled along the streets, sending gates crashing open and shut. But Sir Richard had been right: they did not enter any houses.
That was almost enough to calm the group's jangling nerves, until ten minutes later they all heard an unmistakable sound, high pitched and insistent like the wind in the trees, yet somehow strangely unnatural; it made them all feel queasy. A second later the creatures began to sweep back towards the fields. But as they passed the pub, another noise rose up, briefly, along with a flash of something pale caught among the flurry of movement. It sounded very much like a child crying.
Chapter Twelve
Despite the danger, Veitch and Church were out of the pub and racing up the High Street within seconds, but there was no sign of where the creatures could have gone. The night was too dark, the countryside too empty. It didn't take them long to locate the victim's home; the shrieks could be heard across the village.
A woman in her late twenties clutched at the door jamb of one of the council houses, her face ruptured by grief. She was trying to propel herself out into the street while a man and another woman fought to restrain her, their expressions of deep dread revealing their motivation. Her dyed black hair flailed all around as she howled like an animal: sometimes Veitch and Church picked out the name Ellie among the incomprehensible wailings of a ruined life.
Lights were coming on all around and soon other neighbours were at the scene. One of them forced some tablets into her mouth and shortly after they managed to calm her enough to get her inside. Veitch and Church waited patiently until the man who had been holding the mother back ventured out, hollow eyes staring out of a chalk face. He was barefoot, still wearing grey pyjama bottoms and a Metallica T-shirt.
'What happened?' Church asked quietly.
It took a second or two for him to register their presence and even then he seemed unable to focus on them. Tears leaked out of the corner of his eyes. He furiously scrubbed them away, saying, 'Sorry, mate, sorry. Fuck.' He leaned on the gatepost, shaking. 'She said it was locked! Fuck.' He turned round to look at the open front door. It had once been painted white, but now it was a dirty cream, scuffed with old bootprints near the bottom, some of them very small. Inside the hall the light was stark and unpleasant. The man turned back, stared at them for a long moment as if he were about to say something and then he staggered towards the house next door.
Once he was inside, Veitch slipped down the path to examine the door. 'Look at this,' he said pointing to the jamb. The wood was splintered. 'They forced it open. That Max was wrong.'
Church ran his fingertip over the damaged jamb. 'Maybe those things are learning new tricks.'
The smell of frying bacon, eggs and sausages filled the pub. As the group sat around the tables in the bar, they felt convinced that even aromas were more vibrant in the new world. But even that simple joy couldn't dispel the dismal air that had grown after the night's events. Talk turned quickly to whether the village should be evacuated en masse if the safety of the occupants could no longer be guaranteed.
'That's up to the villagers,' Tom pointed out, 'but I would say they would be loath to leave their homes, even in the face of such a trial. In this time of crisis, stability is vitally important.'
'That poor woman. Her only child.' Ruth's face still looked a little grey; since her ordeal she rarely gained her colour until after breakfast. 'We have to do something to help.'
'As if we haven't got enough on our hands,' Laura said sourly.
'No, I agree with Ruth,' Church said, to Laura's obvious annoyance. 'We can't leave these people high and dry if there's anything at all we can do.'
'Max said the creatures leave the village alone for a while after they have secured a victim,' Shavi reiterated. 'That gives us a little time.'
'Then we should start straight away.' Church broke open his egg with his fork. 'Talk to everyone we can. There must be something we can use, some kind of defence that will keep these things out-'
'I don't believe you lot,' Laura snapped. 'One minute you're talking about this big mission to save the world, the next you're taking time out to save the waifs and strays. Anything could happen here. You saw what was going on last night. There's no guarantee one of us won't get hurt or worse, and then we won't be able to do what's expected of us. I say we save ourselves.'
Veitch eyed her coldly. 'It's all about doing the right thing too.'
'What must it be like to be you?' Laura sneered. 'All those echoes from that one thought rolling around your head-'
'Least it's a good thought.'
'Okay, okay!' Church held up his hands to calm the bickering. 'Let's see what we can do.'
As they filed out into the sunlit street, Shavi hung back until he caught Church's eye. They stood behind in the pub doorway while the others went off to explore the village. The air was already hot and filled with clouds of butterflies drawn by the heavy perfume of the roses. Bees buzzed lazily from bloom to bloom.
Church could see from Shavi's expression it wasn't going to be good news. 'What's wrong?' he asked.
'I find this very hard to say,' Shavi began hesitantly, 'but as soon as we have finished our duties here I am afraid I will have to leave.'
Church's heart sank. 'You can't leave, Shavi! For God's sake…' He floundered around for the correct words. 'We're relying on you. You're the backbone of the whole team. The only stable one among us!'
'I fear you are not doing yourself or any of the others justice. Please do not make this difficult for me. I understand my responsibilities to you and all, and to the mission destiny has delivered to us. It is just-'
'What?' There was an unnecessary hardness to Church's voice.
'It was I who freed Maponus. And every life that is cut down by his hand is on my conscience.'
'Look, we asked you to seek him out and free him. You couldn't have-'
Shavi held up a hand to silence his friend. 'Whether I knew what I was unleashing or not is immaterial. I certainly exhibited arrogance in my approach which allowed me to be manipulated. Even without apportioning blame, any deaths are my deaths. I have to do something to make amends-'
'Like what?'
'Help to imprison him again.'
'Shavi, with all due respect, what can you do? It took a collection of the most powerful people in the land to bind him originally. And not all of them survived.'
'I do not know what I can do. But if there is a chance that I can do anything I have to seize it. I will seek out the Bone Inspector and offer my help. Perhaps the two of us can find some way-'
'Shavi, I'm not having any of this.'
Shavi smiled. 'This goes far beyond our friendship and your leadership, Jack. I am burdened by this responsibility.'
Church tried to dredge up some relevant argument. He felt massive failure for all of them staring him in the face. 'The Pendragon Spirit called us together to complement each other with our abilities. Losing you would be like losing an arm-there's no way we'd be able to carry on.'
'I am not leaving forever, Jack. Just until I have found a solution. Then I will return to help in-'
'Okay, stay a little longer. Take some time to weigh things up-'
'I have-'
'No, listen. The woman in the Watchtower who set us on this path originally. Her name's Niamh. There's some kind of bond between us. Before you make any move, let me contact her. She might have a solution. For God's sake, Maponus is one of their own. They have to help!'
Shavi looked unsure.
'I'm not asking you to change your mind. Just defer it until I've tried this path. '
