Wraith(11)

It was just as well that I did; the goblins’ voices grew louder as they walked towards me. The silhouette I’d created wasn’t perfect – the other shadows I’d joined myself with were too angular for that. If the goblins stared long enough, they’d realise that something was wrong. I reminded myself that the chances of that happening were miniscule; unless this pair was literally jumping at shadows, I’d probably be alright.

‘I don’t see what gives him the right,’ muttered the female goblin. ‘Striding around as if he owns the place. We should have told him to fuck off from the outset.’

‘It’s only for a day or two longer,’ her companion soothed. ‘And we needed to placate the Prime Minister. Ghrashbreg said that the Scottish government was becoming quite insistent that we do more to end the siege.’

There was a loud, nasal snort that sounded similar to my plumbing when the pipes were nearly empty. ‘James has no jurisdiction over Stirling. He can’t do a thing.’

‘Don’t be naïve. You know very well that there’s plenty he can do to make our lives miserable. The sanctions—’

‘Screw the sanctions. When we find the Stone, I’ll bloody well sanction him. Then he can see how he likes it.’

‘Azra…’ There was exasperation in the male goblin’s voice as they drew level with my hidey-hole. I tensed. From his tone, this was a conversation they’d had several times before. Well, thank you very much for having it again, I thought sardonically, as I stayed still and hoped they wouldn’t glance at the oddly shaped shadow. I’d learnt a great deal already.

In less than two heartbeats, both goblins strolled past. I relaxed infinitesimally whilst they continued to talk.

‘I get the impression you’d much rather screw him than screw the sanctions.’

‘He’s a good-looking guy for an elf. It doesn’t mean that I don’t wish he were long gone.’

‘A good-looking guy for an elf? How many elves have you met? And Dark Elves at that?’

‘He’s the only one. It’s not like there’s many of them around to meet.’

‘True,’ the male acknowledged. ‘Should I be jealous? He’s on his way to have dinner right now. I’m sure he’d love to have you join him. You could serve yourself up on a platter. Stick an apple in your mouth or something.’

There was another loud snort. ‘Only if it’s a poisoned apple for him to munch on.’

‘It would be in your mouth first,’ her companion pointed out. Apparently she wasn’t the brightest goblin in the horde.

The pair of them went into a room and their voices faded away. I straightened up. It didn’t take a genius to know who’d they’d been moaning about. And if the Dark Elf was the topic of conversation, it was probably because they’d just seen him. All I had to do was head in the direction they’d come from and I’d find my quarry.

It sounded like the Dark Elf was here at the Prime Minister’s insistence and that he was making a token effort to try and end the siege. It had already been going on for too long, though; if the government really wanted to stop it they would have done so by now. As the citizens of Stirling well knew, myself included, our hungry stomachs wouldn’t be filled with empty promises, regardless of who made them.

I waited a few moments, extricated my shadow and flickered back out, darting down the corridor into the open doorway that the goblins had just vacated.

The room was empty but it was in a better state than the last one I’d been in. For one thing, it wasn’t covered in jumble; for another, a table with empty dishes displayed the remnants of someone’s dinner. Three someone’s dinners, in fact. I stared briefly at the discarded chicken bones and the scraps of delectable white meat clinging to the drumsticks. Chicken. Real chicken.

My corporeal body back in my flat might have been inert but that didn’t mean my mouth wasn’t watering. Forget the boy’s tiny tomatoes, here was some real food – and lots of it. I shook my head and wished that my shadow form had the ability to eat. Then I stopped gaping and focused. Drooling wasn’t on today’s agenda.

I headed for the next door. There were voices coming from behind it. I pressed myself up close then the door opened, revealing the figure of a goblin ready to depart and a table with three seated figures. One of those was unmistakably a Dark Elf.

Amazed by the speed with which I’d located him, I quickly scoped the room and spotted the darkest place next to an impressive bureau. While the goblin shifted his weight and prepared to turn towards me, I kept an eye on the others and waited for their attention to move away. This was the dangerous part. I had to get into that safe spot without drawing any attention. Deep breath.

Only one of the three men enjoying the feast was a goblin. My eyes narrowed. This one I knew of, although only by reputation. Ghrashbreg was a particularly depraved creature. I’d seen the results of his handiwork carved into the skin of some of my fellow citizens; he enjoyed leaving his mark on those he tortured. In older times the goblins would have sent someone like Ghrashbreg far away from here where he would do less damage, but under these siege conditions he’d proved useful. Officially he was routing Gneiss infiltrators and sympathisers but in practice he was just a mean bastard with a taste for blood. If this Dark Elf was fraternizing with Ghrashbreg, there was not so much hope that he was here to do us any good.

‘Would you like some cake and coffee?’ Ghrashbreg enquired with what was supposed to be a solicitous smile. ‘We have the most delectable chocolate confection which I’m sure you’ll both enjoy.’

Chocolate cake? I thought of the meagre squares I’d allowed myself before leaving home. The bloody goblins were eating entire cakes of the stuff! Unbelievable.

Ghrashbreg gestured towards the goblin who was shielding me from sight. I darted into the room, using the shadow of the door to keep my form hidden. I twisted round while the goblin marched away to get the cake and maintained both a vantage point and an entry point into the room. Careful now, I warned myself. Don’t mess this up.

Facing away from me, the Dark Elf spoke, his voice accented with a soft Scottish brogue but his tone edged with steel. ‘I don’t want chocolate cake.’ He stood up. ‘I’m going out.’

Trouble in Paradise? I held my breath and waited for the precise moment I needed. Ghrashbreg fixed his gaze on the Dark Elf and the Dark Elf and his companion, whoever he was, returned the look. This testosterone-fuelled stand off was exactly what I wanted.

As they glared at each other, I tumbled to my right until I reached the bureau’s dark spot. I whipped round. None of the men had moved or altered their expressions. My shoulders sagged – I’d made it. Now I needed them to tell me what Marrock wanted to know.

‘Out? Goodness me. I presume you are heading back to Kanji. Perhaps a lady took your fancy there after all.’ Ghrashbreg gazed up at the Dark Elf with an amused expression on his face. Anyone else would have taken this as fair warning to back off but the Elf held his ground.

Now that I could see his face clearly for the first time, I scanned his features with interest as he oh-so-casually replied to the goblin, ‘No, not there. I think a stroll in the other direction is in order. I’d like to see more of the city.’

I could see why they were called Dark Elves. Everything about this man was dark: the warning note in his voice; his flawless complexion, and his glittering eyes. Even the way he held himself suggested menace as he towered over Ghrashbreg. The goblin might not look intimidated but I reckoned he was saving face by staying in his seat. If he stood up and faced the Elf, this would turn from a mild conversation into a stand off. Literally. And the power rippling from the Elf made it clear who would win, even with Ghrashbreg on home ground.

I looked at the other man; he was still sitting down but looking anxious. He was human, with kindly features and greying hair. Judging by the way he was twisting the napkin underneath the table, he knew as well as I did how badly this could go. How very, very interesting.

‘That’s not wise,’ Ghrashbreg said.

‘I wasn’t asking for your opinion but I appreciate your concern.’

I shivered, wondering if I was about to witness the moment the Elves finally turned on the goblins. History in the making – and all over an evening stroll.

‘Sit down and have some cake.’

A ghost of a smile crossed the Dark Elf’s lips. ‘Thank you but no.’ He turned and started to walk away while his human companion got clumsily to his feet and stumbled after him.

Ghrashbreg cleared his throat. ‘I know what you’re capable of, Lord Gabriel,’ he called out.

Gabriel. There were less than fifty Dark Elves in the whole of Scotland and there was only one Gabriel that I’d heard of. My blood chilled. Ghrashbreg wasn’t the only one in this room with a reputation.

‘Then,’ Gabriel de Florinville murmured, ‘you know I can look after myself. I will be in no danger on those streets. And I’m no Lord.’

‘No,’ the goblin returned. ‘But you are one of fewer than fifty Dark Elves who reside in Scotland. Don’t overestimate your powers. You don’t know Stirling.’