Prisoner of Fate (29 page)

‘I never came here to get a lecture on my business,’ Crystal interrupted, shifting uncomfortably on the stool.

‘Then why have you come?’ the old woman asked.

‘To learn about something. What’s your name?’

‘The Book Lady,’ the old woman replied. ‘Old Lady Time. I’ve been given lots of names.’

‘And?’ Crystal asked, sighing with irritation at the old woman’s riddles. ‘What do you prefer to be called?’

‘I don’t,’ the old woman replied. ‘My name is my own business. Locals call me Batty Booker.’

Crystal snorted and shook her head, glancing at Hunter who also shook his head. Of the old woman she asked, ‘Did you know my grandfather?’

Batty Booker hesitated, before replying, ‘I think I met him once, a very long time ago, when I was much, much younger,’ and she sighed, shaking her head and adding, ‘It’s sad things go the way they do.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Time, girl, time. Time goes on and leaves us behind in its dust. We were all young once.’

‘Do you have children?’ Crystal asked out of curiosity.

‘Dead and gone. All dead and gone,’ the old woman lamented. ‘Such was the way of the times.’ Crystal waited for details, as she knew old people were prone to elaborate, but Batty Booker made no further mention of her children. Instead, she said curtly, ‘You’ve come to learn something. What is it?’

‘Do you have any books on the Demon Horsemen?’

The old woman straightened her back, her face furrowed with concern. ‘Why would you ask to read about such things?’

‘I’m curious,’ Crystal replied. ‘My grandfather mentioned them when I was small. I’ve always wanted to know the full story.’

Batty clasped her hands on the table and was silent. Finally she said, ‘You don’t need books to learn about the Demon Horsemen, girl. Besides, no one has written down much. Ask the Seers. They know all about the Demon Horsemen. Go to the temples.’

‘I don’t want religious stories,’ Crystal objected. ‘I want to know what is written about them. Have you got any books or not?’

Batty Booker sighed again and stood. ‘I’ve got a book, girl, one I found in another country.’

‘Where is it?’ Crystal asked.

‘Where I found it.’

Crystal scowled as she said, ‘What? In another country?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s no good to me, is it?’ Crystal retorted.

‘No,’ said the old woman, ‘but if you want to know what was in it I can tell you.’ She tapped her head. ‘It’s all in here.’

Crystal looked at Hunter who shrugged. She stood, noting that for an older woman Batty Booker was unusually tall, and ordered, ‘Then tell me what you know.’

S
wift kept watch at the window of the tiny two-roomed cottage as the daylight faded into a purple- and-amber evening. ‘Who were they?’ she asked, without looking back at Passion and Mouse who were bathing Chase’s injuries.

‘Thugs from the Joker,’ Passion replied.

‘The Joker?’ Swift repeated. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I heard them say the lady wanted Chase killed,’ Passion explained. ‘Who else could it have been?’

‘She probably arranged to have the Perfect Pleasures burned down,’ Mouse added, as she tenderly cleaned dried blood from the corner of Chase’s mouth. ‘No one dares cross her.’

Swift let the blue-dyed hessian curtain drop and squatted beside her sister. ‘If the Joker is behind all this, you can’t stay here,’ she warned. ‘She’ll already know all about who you know.’

‘But where else can we go?’ Passion asked.

Swift glanced at little Jon who was sitting against the wall, patting a ginger cat that had wandered in from the alley. ‘I have to get all three of you somewhere safe.’

‘Chase can’t walk,’ Mouse argued.

‘And where is
safe
from the Joker?’ Passion asked, wringing out the rag she was using to soak blood from a deep cut in Chase’s thigh. A knock at the door made all three stop and stare. Swift drew her knife and rose. The knock was repeated. Swift nodded to Mouse, who asked, ‘Who is it?’

‘Wahim,’ a deep voice answered.

Mouse nodded to Swift and Swift nodded in return, readying her knife as she slipped the door latch. ‘Come in,’ Mouse called.

The door opened and the dark-skinned man entered, warily eyeing the woman with cropped red hair armed with a brutal knife. ‘Who’s this?’ he asked. Before anyone could answer, he noticed Passion bending over Chase on the floor. He knelt at her side, asking, ‘What happened?’ Mouse quickly related the attack on Passion and Chase. ‘And you think the Joker’s behind this?’ Wahim asked.

‘Who else?’ Passion responded. ‘It all fits.’

He looked at Swift who was sheathing her knife. ‘And you’re Passion’s older sister?’

‘Half-sister, but it really doesn’t matter,’ Swift said.

‘She saved our lives,’ Passion said, rising to stand beside Swift.

‘I can see the resemblance,’ he noted. ‘You must be handy with a knife.’

Swift let the comment go unanswered, saying instead, ‘We need to get Chase and Passion and Jon to a safer place. Can you get a cart?’

‘Easy,’ Wahim replied.

‘How soon?’

He laughed. ‘Now.’

‘Then get it,’ Swift ordered, in a tone that made Wahim raise an eyebrow.

‘I’ll return soon,’ he promised, as he touched Passion on the cheek and looked down at the semi-conscious Chase. He rose and withdrew.

‘Can we trust him?’ Swift asked, as she locked the door.

‘With your life,’ Mouse said confidently.

‘We are,’ Swift reminded her.

‘So where are we going?’ Passion asked.

Swift checked the street through the curtain. ‘A place I found,’ she said, staring at the fading sunset as oil, gas and wire-lightning lights flared in windows along the lane. ‘Somewhere the Joker would never think of looking for you.’

The old woman studied the six individuals gathered in the dull lamplight at the door to her tiny bookshop. She recognised the tough assassin who had climbed through her window earlier that day, but she didn’t know the young woman with flowing red hair, the small boy clasping her leg, or the tall, dark-skinned man who was cradling a young man in his arms.

When she first heard the knock, she had ignored it as she always did when someone made a noise outside her shop late at night. When the knocking became persistent, she opened her shutter and peered down into the dark alley, unable to make out who was at her door, until the young woman whispered harshly, ‘Old Lady Time! Open up! I need your help!’ Even then, she wasn’t convinced that the familiar woman was genuine—that she hadn’t returned late at night to rob her of what little she had—but her instinct said there was something unusual afoot. The visit earlier in the evening from the drug merchant determined to know the story of the Demon Horsemen had left her unsettled, and this late night arrival of strangers was either a strange coincidence or an even stranger continuation of matters. She descended, carrying her lamp, a shadow scampering in her wake into the shop, and cautiously opened her door. ‘We need your help,’
Swift explained quickly, blinking in the lamplight. ‘My half-brother’s been hurt.’

Batty Booker ushered the group into her shop and bolted the door, took a cursory glance at the young man being carried and said, ‘Take him upstairs to my bedroom.’ Swift led Wahim upstairs into the old woman’s living space and through into the bedroom, where Wahim lowered Chase onto the bedding. The old woman kneeled and studied the bandaging. ‘Who did this?’ she asked.

‘Thugs working for the Joker,’ Passion said.

Batty looked at her closely and at the blond-haired child pressed against her leg. ‘And who are you?’ she asked.

‘Passion Goodenough,’ Passion replied.

‘And you?’ she asked the boy.

Jon buried his face into Passion’s leg. ‘He’s four,’ Passion explained.

The old woman turned her attention to Wahim. ‘You’re Shesskar,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think your people mixed with the Kerwyn.’ Wahim stared at her silently, leaving her challenge unanswered, so she turned to Mouse, noting the girl’s blatant sexuality in her flimsy clothing and painted lips. ‘And what’s your role in all this?’

Mouse blushed and pouted to compensate, saying, ‘We’re friends.’

The old woman shook her head and returned to examining Chase, measuring his breathing and pulse. ‘He needs more care than I can offer,’ she said, feeling his forehead. ‘You should take him to a surgeon.’

‘We wouldn’t make it,’ Swift replied. ‘Someone important wants him dead. If he goes out in the streets, he’ll be dead.’

‘It’s the Joker,’ Passion insisted. ‘No one goes against her. I tried to warn him.’

‘I have to boil some water and clean these wounds,’ Batty said as she got to her feet. ‘There’s not enough room in here for all of you,’ and she ushered the group out of the bedroom. ‘There’s another lamp by the window if you want light while I’m downstairs.’

As the old woman descended, Wahim lit the second lamp and placed it on one of two stools in the room. ‘Now what do we do?’ Passion asked, hugging Jon to her waist.

‘Your friends leave,’ Swift said, looking at Wahim and Mouse. ‘They’re not implicated in whatever it is that has gotten Chase and you in trouble, so they’d be wise to stay away.’

‘But we can help,’ Mouse protested.

‘You can’t do anything else by staying here,’ Swift argued bluntly. ‘Go now, while you can. And be careful that no one sees you leave this place.’

Mouse looked at Passion, who said, ‘Swift knows these things. You’d better leave.’ She held out her arms to embrace Mouse. ‘I’ll look after my brother,’ she whispered.

Wahim touched her hair gently. ‘I will be here if you need,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell Rose what happened.’

‘No,’ snapped Swift brusquely. ‘You can’t tell anyone anything. If people ask, you say you haven’t seen her or Chase. If someone finds the cottage empty, you don’t know where they’ve gone. You’re just as surprised as anyone else. Got that?’ Wahim nodded.

Swift glared at Mouse. ‘I can keep secrets,’ Mouse declared indignantly.

‘Go,’ Passion urged.

‘Be careful,’ Mouse said, as Wahim led her towards the door. ‘If you need us—’ and the pair exited. Passion listened to their footsteps recede on the stairs, heard the old woman ask what they were doing and then they were gone.

‘I hope for their sakes that no one has seen them tonight,’ Swift said as she approached Passion and Jon. She held out her hands to the boy who shyly accepted her offer to be lifted. ‘Time you were asleep,’ she said.

‘You can sleep on the next level,’ Batty told them as she entered, carrying a jug of steaming water in a bowl and balancing her lamp.

‘How do we get up there?’ Swift asked. ‘I didn’t see anything last time I was here.’

Batty smiled. ‘There’s a drape on the wall outside the door on the landing,’ she explained. ‘Behind the drape is a rope. Pull it and stairs drop from the ceiling. There’s a small attic.’

‘How come you don’t sleep up there?’ Swift asked.

‘Enough space here,’ the old woman replied. ‘Besides, one flight of stairs is enough climbing.’ She headed into the bedroom.

Swift passed Jon to Passion and left the room to find the drop-down stairs. Just as the old woman described, a rope was hidden behind a musty green drape, and when she pulled on it a narrow set of stairs dropped from the ceiling. She stuck her head back in the door and said, ‘Come on, Passion. You need some sleep and so does Jon. I’ll set this up for you.’ Retrieving the lamp from the stool, she headed into the loft.

‘He said the old man in the Bog Pit was a Seer with a secret about the Demon Horsemen,’ Passion explained, ‘and he asked Chase to tell the old man’s granddaughter. She’s Mrs Merchant, the Joker.’ When she saw the old woman’s shocked expression she asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Go on,’ the old woman urged. ‘What was the secret?’

Passion glanced at Swift before saying, ‘The Seers are plotting to overthrow Prince Inheritor and put Prince Shadow on the throne. They want to bring the Demon Horsemen to kill everyone.’ She stopped when she realised that the old woman was rising.

‘What
is
bothering you?’ Swift asked, and she took hold of Batty’s arm.

When Batty glared at Swift’s hand, Swift released her grip and the old woman took three steps towards the bedroom door to peer in at Chase, who was asleep. Slivers of morning sunlight angled through the wooden shutters and striped the floor and bedding. The young man had nasty cuts and bruising, especially to his head, but with rest he would recover quickly. In her tending to his injuries, she’d noticed the myriad scars scattered across his thin body and wondered at the violence that must have pursued the young man’s life. She turned back to the two young women. ‘You’re certain this was the secret?’

Passion nodded. ‘They found a bag that the Joker is meant to take to the princes.’

‘What was in the bag?’

Passion shook her head. ‘They couldn’t open it. Apparently they couldn’t even puncture it with a dagger. It had an old lock but they couldn’t break into it.’ The old woman’s eyebrows rose and she wavered on her feet. ‘Are you all right?’ Passion asked. ‘You’ve been acting strangely.’

‘Where was this bag?’

‘Chase said it was hidden in a cave at the end of a tunnel that started under the Joker’s house.’

Batty caught her breath and leaned against the wall. ‘Did your brother describe the bag? Was it made of canvas?’

‘I don’t know,’ Passion replied. ‘Why?’

The old woman shook her head, saying, ‘No matter.
Life is full of strange coincidences. What I thought—’ She stopped and said, ‘Where is the bag now?’

Passion shrugged. ‘The Joker should have given it to the princes.’

‘There’s a rat in the doorway,’ Swift declared, pulling her knife from its sheath. Passion turned her attention to the doorway to discover a large sleek, black rat sitting, staring at them.

‘Ignore her,’ Batty said. ‘She comes and goes as she pleases.’ As she finished, the rat dropped to all fours and scampered across the room into the bedroom, and as Swift went to follow Batty said, ‘Let her be. She won’t hurt anything. Her name is Whisper.’

‘She’s your pet?’ Swift asked.

‘My companion,’ the old woman said. ‘She’s never been a pet.’

‘A rat is your
companion
?’ Swift asked, as if the concept made no sense.

‘She’s actually a bush rat,’ Batty corrected. ‘I have to think about what you’ve told me, but your brother has stumbled on a very dangerous thing and I don’t know what it means.’

‘Chase said the old Seer told him it would be dangerous,’ Passion confirmed.

‘All I know is that we can’t stay in the city,’ said Swift. ‘They want me for killing Shortear and now they want Chase because he’s been with the Joker. As soon as Chase can travel, we’re leaving.’

‘To go where?’ the old woman asked.

‘East,’ Swift suggested, ‘or south into the hills. I know people there. We can be safe for a while.’ She noticed that Batty was heading for the door. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I have to read,’ Batty replied. ‘I need to know something. It might decide a few things.’

‘Like what?’ Swift asked.

‘Be patient,’ Batty cautioned as she left. Swift, hands on her hips, glared at the old woman’s back and grunted irritably, until the door closed.

‘How did you meet her?’ Passion asked.

Swift headed for the bedroom to check Chase and make certain the bush rat wasn’t a menace to him. ‘Long story,’ she murmured.