Jack of Ravens(131)

Rourke was on his feet, his body breaking up into its component parts just as the other Rourke’s had at Avebury. Laura clutched hold of Shavi, sick with terror born of incomprehension.

The sound of a protesting engine filled the street. Shavi’s van appeared, being driven with insane disregard for its surroundings. It careered off three parked cars and mounted the kerb. Shavi had to thrust Laura out of the way at the last moment to save both of them from being killed.

The Bone Inspector threw open the passenger door. ‘If I’m going to keep doing this, you’d better give me some lessons.’

Shavi pushed Laura in and jumped in after her. The Rourke-spiders were already swarming onto the nearside, and appeared to be eating at the very fabric of the vehicle.

The Bone Inspector had seen them, too. With deafening grinding and a fountain of sparks, he ran the van along the brick wall. With the spiders scraped off, he accelerated towards the end of the street, where Shavi took the wheel.

‘Worst. Rescue. Ever.’ Laura’s stomach was still churning from the thought of the spiders nestling inside her.

‘You’re alive, aren’t you?’ the Bone Inspector snapped.

‘I was nearly mounted on the radiator grille!’ Shavi thought she was going to cry, but then she put her head back and laughed silently. ‘Fucking head rush. Spiders, urrh!’

‘Mad woman,’ the Bone Inspector mumbled.

Laura glanced at Shavi, her eyes bright. ‘I nearly died and I feel as if I’m flying. How fucked up is that?’ She smiled to herself. ‘You can’t go back to the day job once you’ve had spiders crawling around your gullet.’

Shavi had been through exactly the same process of awakening: that the life they had been ushered into should be more terrifying and dangerous than anyone could bear, yet he felt more vibrant than he ever had in his safe, secure, mundane existence.

Laura turned on the radio and scanned across the stations until she found the Chemical Brothers singing ‘Hey Boy Hey Girl’. She cranked it up to full volume.

‘The blue spark that flashed between us,’ Shavi said. ‘I think it was important.’

‘You’re right there. It means we’re two of a kind, pretty boy.’ She put her feet on the dashboard and stretched like a cat. ‘All right. Now what?’



8



Wearily, Church tramped up the long, winding staircase to his chamber in the Court of the Soaring Spirit. His officer’s uniform was filthy with the mud of Flanders, and he was sickened after seeing wave after wave of fresh, hopeful young men shot and gassed and blown to pieces over a few inches of soil. For the first time he could understand why the Seelie Court had turned its back on Earth.

Tom sat by the fire, smoking. ‘Anything?’ he asked.

Church shook his head. ‘One of the Watchmen in Paris gave me a lead, but it didn’t pan out. He said the Germans had the skull and box for some kind of ritual. I think it was just wishful thinking.’ Church flopped into a chair and tossed his gas mask to one side. ‘Tell you what, though – the spider-zombies are everywhere. All over Europe I came across people with spiders stuck in their neck, or arm, or whatever.’

‘The Enemy is exerting its influence. I imagine a war of that magnitude would spread despair like the plague.’

Church could tell Tom had seen some of the horrors of the First World War with his premonitory powers. ‘That’s it, I think. They’re controlling people who can position themselves to generate despair. How do we fight something like that? It’s like an infestation.’

‘You spread hope.’ Tom’s eyes sparkled.

‘I managed to save one of the Brothers of Dragons before Veitch got to him,’ Church said. ‘He’s just a kid, but when you look in his eyes it’s as if he’s a hundred years old. The things he must have seen on the battlefield—’

‘Death forges the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons,’ Tom said.

‘Then he’s going to be one of the strongest of all of us,’ Church replied bitterly. ‘I’ve left him with Decebalus and Aula. They’re doing a good job with all the others I managed to bring back. Our recruits will be ready when we need them.’

Niamh walked in clutching a letter. She looked troubled. ‘I found this on my bed,’ she said, puzzled. ‘I was in the other chamber. No one could have entered without my knowledge.’

‘Who’s it from?’ Church asked.

She handed it to him. The writing was copperplate and dignified. ‘Jerzy,’ she said. ‘He’s inviting you to a show – and offers an answer to “The Question of the Skull and the Box”.’