Obsidian Mirror (21 page)

“He’s lying. You can take your money and go tomorrow. Where the hell you like.”

“I don’t want to—” She stopped. Because he was holding a small revolver in his right hand, loose and
careless. As she watched, he cocked the trigger back, and turned its muzzle into his stomach.

The tiny click leaped in her heart.

Tap.

Tap, tap.

Snow was falling on the window. Jake ignored it. He stared into the dim embers of his bedroom fire, the marmoset curled cozily on his lap.

Had Sarah been lying? Maybe the first time, but this time he had heard that voice, that querulous question. Hadn’t he? After the confusion of the explosion he wasn’t even sure anymore.

Was she really some mixed-up patient dragging them all into her madness? Not that Venn needed dragging. And if the Chronoptika had really swallowed his father, could they ever get him back again, especially after this disaster? Piers had been upbeat, but even he could see the damage. If only he could get close to the device on his own, maybe there was some way it would respond to him.

Maybe now, tonight!

Tap. Tap.

The small noise filtered through his drowsiness. He focused on it, realizing suddenly that it was too regular for snow or wind. He put the monkey on his shoulder and went quickly over to the window and listened.

Tap.

Carefully he unlatched the shutter. Nothing. The sill was cluttered with his father’s books; he pushed them aside and knelt up there, Horatio’s arms wrapped firmly around his neck.

Outside, snow fell in slow diagonals, twirling out of the dark. The Wood was a black emptiness against the sky.

With an abruptness that made him yell and jerk back, a figure hauled itself over the sill and gazed in at him. He glimpsed a flicker of eyes, then the bang of a fist on the glass.

Jake opened the casement.

Gideon crouched outside, gripping tight to the ivy. He was white with cold.

“You!” Jake stared.

“I thought I told you to keep a window open!”

Jake shrugged. “Get in before you fall.”

“I can’t. You have to pull me in.”

The wind roared between them. “Why the hell should I?” Jake snapped, irritated.

“Because no one has, for centuries.” Gideon’s fingers slid, bone white on the ivy bines, his eyes green as the leaves. “And because I saved you from Summer and I paid for it. You owe me.”

Jake stared at him.

Then he leaned out and gripped the changeling’s hand, and hauled him in.

Very quietly, so quiet she barely heard her own voice, Sarah said, “For God’s sake, be—”

“Careful?” Venn didn’t look at her. “Too late. I should have been careful four years ago. Now maybe I should finish it here. Who would care?”

“I would. And Piers.” She sat on the bed, stubbornly calm, staring him out. “Don’t be insane.”

“That from a girl who thinks she can become invisible?”

She didn’t smile. Instead she said, “Tell me about Leah.”

It was an enormous risk. For a moment she thought he would really lift up the weapon and fire right in front of her, but then he waved the weapon a fraction to the right. “There she is. Look at her, Sarah.”

The portrait was positioned so it could be seen from the bed. It was modern in style, a woman’s face, dark hair, high cheekbones, laughing at some private moment. Not beautiful but intelligent, and full of life. Sarah stared, fascinated.

Venn said, “My family has a reputation. Half human, half Shee. Difficult. Untrustworthy. Since I was a boy I’d been used to loneliness. I didn’t care. I was consumed by ambition—I burned with curiosity about the world, wanted to go everywhere and see everything, to cram it all into me, to fill up the emptiness.
I was never satisfied. Even after Katra Simba, after the honorary degrees and TV series and money and fame, I was empty. Not fully human. Until I met her. It was up on Dartmoor. I was driving home, late one night, and it was raining hard. Just up by the crossroads to Princetown the headlights raked over a car, with someone leaning over the open hood.

“The rain was lashing down, so I pulled up behind and kept the headlights on full. Then this figure in a black hooded raincoat straightened up and yelled at me. ‘
Don’t just bloody sit there. Get out and help!’
”

“That was her?”

He nodded. “Oh, that was her. Caught in that flash of light, behind the rain. Caught like a hare in the headlights. Wild and free.”

He was silent, shuffling the gun loosely in his hands, so Sarah handed him the mug of tea. He took it, absently.

“We were married for two years. I was a different man. It was as if some old nagging pain had been healed. Can you imagine that?”

“I think so.” She curled up her legs and glanced again at the painting. Then at Venn. He laid the weapon on the table and the mug of tea next to it. He sat back. She could almost feel him gathering strength for what would come next.

“The last time I saw her was beside a car too. But it
was so different. Hot, dry, arid. A blazing sun. A road that looped around the mountains above a sea scored by luxury yachts and ferries. Wild and free, yes, and I was driving too fast. And the bend went on and on and my foot went down and then a truck was in front of us and I twisted the wheel…” His voice was a whisper. “The things you wish you could forget are the ones that stay with you. Her hair, all tangled in the grass. A small fly crawling on her forehead. Her eyes, looking at me. Not seeing me.”

Sarah couldn’t move. It was as if the horror of his memories had woven a spell around them, had invaded the dark room.

Snow piled and slid on the window. She forced her voice to the cliché. “You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

“Blame?” He turned his gaze on her. “You have no idea. I don’t
blame
myself. I don’t exist anymore. I haven’t drawn a breath since that day. I’m buried as cold and as deep as she is.”

His self-loathing filled the room with a numb despair. She glanced at the door. She desperately wanted Piers to walk in, or even Jake. Anyone. And yet this was her chance and she had to take advantage of it, now, without pity.

“And so you think, with this device…?”

He looked at her, sharp. “Always the device, Sarah.”

“Well, I’m the one you’re experimenting on.
Who made it anyway? This Symmes, he wasn’t the inventor.”

He shrugged. “Maybe this man Maskelyne. Maybe Mortimer Dee. Maybe it’s even older. But I know Symmes got it to work.”

He looked up. “So I had to have it, Sarah, because I’m even more insane than you. You’re just invisible. I intend to bring my wife back from the dead.”

Wharton dived out of his bedroom and grabbed Piers as he passed, just as the clock downstairs began to chime twelve. “I have to talk to you.”

Piers looked worried, less sparky than usual. His lab coat was scorched. “Tomorrow. Something’s wrong…it looks like the gates are open. Maybe it’s just the snow, but…”

“I know she’s not your niece. I know who she is. What the hell do you think you’re playing at? I have a good mind to phone the police myself right now and…”

“That’s another thing.” Piers shook his head. “The phone’s dead. The lines must be down. Or…”

Wharton felt a cold chill in his heart. “Or what?”

“Someone cut them.” Piers shrugged, his gold earring glinting in the hall lamps. “I don’t suppose you know how to load and fire a shotgun, Mr. ex-army teacher, do you?”

Wharton stared.

In that instant the doorbell clanged, loud and urgent.

“What’s that?” Gideon looked around, startled.

“Someone at the door.” Jake threw him a towel. “You’re soaked.”

He was more than that. He was saturated with water, a trickling creature of moss-green and ivy, dirty as a gargoyle, gazing in greedy wonder at the room around him. He looked at the towel as if he had no idea what to do with it.

“How long since you’ve been in a house?” Jake asked quietly.

“There is no time with the Shee. There’s just now. And now is always hungry and usually cold.” He wiped his face. Livid moss stains smeared the material. Then he saw the plate of nuts on the table and went straight for it, grabbing and crunching a mouthful.

Horatio shrieked a horrified protest from the curtain.

Gideon turned, whipping out a sharp flint blade. He leveled it at the monkey and hissed, a savage, eerie sound. “What monster is
that?
”

Jake came and shoved the blade down. “My familiar spirit. You’re eating his food.”

Gideon stared. “In truth? Your familiar? You’re a sorcerer?”

Did he believe it? Jake shrugged. “I am a sorcerer of great power. And maybe I can save you from the Shee. But first you have to do exactly what I say.”

Piers unbolted the front door cautiously and Wharton, behind, leaning on the banister with the shotgun ridiculously aimed at the rectangle of snow, saw a tall red-hooded figure duck inside, wipe its feet, and say, “I thought you’d never answer. I’m sorry it’s so late.”

She tugged her hood off.

He lowered the shotgun quickly and came forward. “Rebecca? What on earth are you doing here? However did you get through?”

She laughed. “It wasn’t easy. It’s coming down in blizzards out there! But I had to warn you.”

“Of what?” Piers said darkly.