The Eighth Court (17 page)

Read The Eighth Court Online

Authors: Mike Shevdon

Tags: #urban fantasy, #feyre, #Blackbird, #magic, #faery, #London, #fey

I heard her breathing slow, but now that I had the chance to rest, my body resisted. I shifted under her until she turned onto her side away from me. In moments I was too warm and pushed the covers down to get cooler, but seconds later I was shivering. I found myself hunkering down, trying to get warm. I was shaking and my mouth felt dry. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and my throat felt sore. Thinking I would wake Blackbird and ask her to get me some water, I tried to turn over, but the bed was huge and empty. I called for her. My hand twitched with the effort of reaching for her, but wouldn’t move. My entire body felt like it was being slowly pressed into the bed, layered in lead, leached of life.

“Why didn’t you call me earlier?” It was Garvin’s voice and he sounded close. I couldn’t see anyone.

“He wasn’t like this earlier, ask Amber,” said Blackbird. He was injured, yes, and tired, but nothing like this. It must have started after he came to bed. It can’t be infection, and he’s not being drawn away by someone else. He keeps mumbling things but I can’t make them out. Did Amber say anything?”

“Nothing conclusive. She said he’d been shot, and that once she showed him what to do, he healed himself. The injury was purely physical. This is not Sam Veldon’s doing – there’s something else at work.”

“The Seventh Court?” Blackbird asked.

“Not within the wardings of the High Court. They would bring reprisals back on themselves and they know it. No, this isn’t magic. Poison?” he suggested.

“It’s possible, but his glamour should protect him. One moment he’s burning up, the next he’s deathly cold. I’m at a loss, Garvin. His wounds were healing, but this…?”

Her voice faded and the dark became a comforting blackness holding me suspended. I drifted between consciousness and oblivion.

After a while I felt something tug at my attention and I found myself being drawn upwards. It was a house – I recognised the style of the study as being from the same sort of era as the High Courts. Was it Georgian, or before that? I wasn’t sure. Two men were there, one standing and one kneeling on the floor before him. You could immediately see why, as the standing man had a pistol aimed at the kneeling man’s head. The kneeling man was begging for his life. The big desk had been overturned, and the chairs were strewn about as if there’d been a fight.


Please, Your Lordship, you’re not well. We can call a doctor. They’ll give you something to calm your nerves.


You’re one of them, aren’t you? Admit it!


One of whom, Your Lordship? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

The man on the ground was older, dressed in plain clothes with mud on his boots.


You’ve been telling them everything!

the standing man accused. The hand with the revolver was trembling.


I don’t know what you mean, Your Lordship. I’ve served you faithfully, I swear.

His voice trembled as he stared up at the pistol pointing down at him.


Then lie to me properly, dammit. Prove you’re not one of them.

There was sweat, beaded on his forehead.


I… don’t know what to say. I’m not lying, I’m telling the truth. What do you want me to say?


Tell me who you really are,

said the standing man.


I’m Johnson. I collect the rents for you. You know who I am.

He reached up suddenly towards the gun and there was a sharp crack. His head snapped backwards, and he toppled sideways onto the ground. The standing man watched him for some time while a coil of smoke rose from the gun to hang in the air before him.

Disappear, dammit!

he shouted at the body.

Vanish! Go wherever you go!

The body remained resolutely present.

After a few moments, the man staggered to a chair and fell heavily into it. He stared at the gun.

My God,

he whispered.

What have I done?

He held the pistol and turned it slowly until it pointed at himself. Opening his mouth, he inserted the muzzle, closing his eyes. His hand was trembling and sweat ran down his face, dripping from his nose. After a while he withdrew the gun and placed it on the floor beside him.


Oh God, Johnson,

he said.

They’ll hang me for this.

He sat staring at the body for a long while. It was only then that I noticed the crest on the notepaper scattered across the floor.

On it was a shield, and on the shield were six horseshoes, and underneath them were the words, De Ferrers.

Blackbird’s voice was full of concern. “It’s getting worse. I’ve tried bathing him, but these snap fevers are extreme. He was raving about being shot a moment ago. I’ve sent Alex for some ice and plain towels. If we can wrap him in them, maybe we can hold his temperature down.”

“Should I ask Yonna or Kimlesh to come?” asked Garvin. “As a Warder he’s entitled to the protection of the Lords and Ladies.”

“Will it do any good?” asked Blackbird.

Garvin sighed. “I’ve no idea. I’d know more if I knew what was wrong.”

“Do the wardings for the courts prevent dowsing?” she asked.

“It depends what you’re dowsing for,” said Garvin. “If you’re using it to pry into court business, then yes.”

“But not otherwise? It’s worth a try,” she said. “Get Alex to bring me a pendulum – a rock on a string would do.”

“Here, use this,” said Garvin.

“What is it?” she asked.

“A keepsake. It has sentimental value.”

“It’s not been charmed in any way? There’s no enhancement?”

“It’s just a rock on a chain, Blackbird.”

“Very well,” she said. “It will serve well enough and perhaps it will tell us what we need to know...”

Her voice faded again and I felt myself being pressed down again, consumed by the enveloping darkness. I was wrapped in black velvet, numb to sense or sound, empty of all sensation. I could feel my hold on reality weakening. Something was loosening my grip on life.

I began to hear the slow heartbeat of some great leviathan. Slowly I became aware of a great sea, stretching out to the horizon. The waves lifted, curled high and then crashed, crump, like the beat of a great drum. Then a sigh, as the black water slid over the beach and ebbed back into the deep. Slowly another wave lifted and curled, crump, it came again, and then sigh as it withdrew.


You shouldn’t be here,

said a voice I knew well. I turned in the darkness to find a figure outlined in fingers of white light in a nimbus glow, standing a little apart on the black sand of the beach. Now that I looked, there were tiny sparks of light in the black sand, like stars.


Raffmir. I might have known you’d be behind all this.


Once again, cousin, you do me disservice. This is none of my doing. Do you even know where you are?


Is this like the Glade, but with a beach?

He laughed, but it had little humour in it.

No one bathes here, Niall. We are on the shores of night, where people come before they die. You have been here before, I think.


Me? No... I think I’d remember.


You’d be surprised what you don’t remember,

he said.

When you had your heart attack on the underground, you would have met my sister here. She would have caught you like a fly in a web as you crossed between life and death. She stranded you here and followed the trail back to your body, hoping to inhabit it, until the witch-woman called you back.


Don’t call her that.


Shall I not call the prick in my thumb a thorn? If the name sticks, then it must stand.


I don’t remember coming here…

I said, looking round. The beach stretched away endlessly in either direction. Further up the beach there was only more sand.


Few people do. Even fewer come here more than once.


Why are you here?

I asked him.


Your gratitude knows no bounds, does it Niall? I stand with you on the shores of night and you ask me why I’m here. For you, cousin. I came for you.


Why would you come for me? You want me dead.


That may be true, but I have also sworn to protect you, have I not? Or at least not to allow you to come to harm.


By your hand. Then you do have something to do with this?


You accuse me when you should thank me. You show me no respect, even when I intervene to save your sorry life. No, Niall, I came for you because I have not finished with you yet. You have a role to play and there are things that must yet come to pass. The solstice approaches, the place is appointed, and the time is soon. When you die, it will be at my hand, so I have sworn.


But you swore not to harm me,

I reminded him.


And therein lies the paradox that we must resolve. Come, Niall. Leave this place. It is not yet your time.


I must warn Blackbird. The solstice...

I said, as the beach faded and the waves returned to a distant drumbeat.


You will not remember,

said Raffmir’s voice, close by.


I must,

I said.


No more than you did the last time,

he said.

ELEVEN


You’ll cut him open?” came Garvin’s question.

“You’re not serious?” asked Alex.

“The taint must be removed, or it’ll kill him. Do you want to do it? Or you, Garvin?” asked Blackbird.

“I’m no surgeon. I wasn’t aware you were either,” said Garvin.

“There are a lot of things about me you don’t know,” she said. “Would you rather try and get him to a hospital, assuming there’s time for that?”

“And tell them what?” asked Garvin. “He was shot hours ago but the wounds look like they’ve been healing for weeks? That something inside him is disrupting his ability to heal?”

“Quite,” said Blackbird. “He can’t get infection, so we’re safe on that score. Once the taint is removed he’ll be able to heal himself. I just have to make sure I don’t pierce anything vital.”

“Assuming you can find it. I hope your hand is steadier than it looks.”

“Get him down to the kitchen. Alex, bring me as many towels as you can find. Clean ones, preferably. Do you think you can find me something suitably sharp, Garvin? And a needle and thread. It’s a while since I’ve done any needlework, but there’s no time now to polish my stitching and I’ll need something to pull the wound together.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” said Garvin.

“If you have a better plan, Garvin, speak now.”

Her voice faded as I slipped back into the dark, but the heat in my blood would not let me rest. It brought me back to the surface where I saw vague shapes and moving patches of colour behind my eyes. The coppery tang of the scent of fresh blood filled my nostrils, underlined by the darker tones of the butcher’s shop.

“Hold it steady, Alex. I can’t do this if you keep waving it about.”

“I’m going to be sick,” said Alex.

“Show some spine, girl. Pinch your ear lobe. Make it bleed if you have to, but don’t you dare let go. Garvin, pass me that plate.”

“Is that the other one?”

There was a thin chink as something dropped onto a china plate. “Two bullets, both forged with iron tips. These were weapons made for a purpose which implies a level of knowledge and intent.”

“That leaves me with a simple question,” said Garvin.

“A question for which we all have an interest in the answer, Garvin. Hand me the needle.”

“Can I throw up now?” said Alex.

“If you do, you will lose the opportunity to tell your father that you helped save his life,” said Blackbird. “Now grit your teeth and hold this together.”

The voices faded into the gathering darkness once more. This time it consumed me and dragged me down, and as I fell into it, it fell into me. I was held inert in an endless, starless night, and I felt nothing. No light, no warmth, no fear. I could have been buried deep underground, drowned in the deepest well. I felt no pain, and had no hope. Only then, did the voices carry to me, calling me back.

The great stone hall must once have been white, but the soot from the candles and the smoke from the fire shaded it into grey. The rays of the afternoon sun cut from the tall windows across the edge of the room, laying stripes of light and dark across the room. Despite the warm day, the fire was banked and crackled with the heat. It shed light upon the throne and the man seated there. Where once he had been lean and strong, now he was wrinkled and despite the grand proportions of the seat, he amply filled it, his belly spilling over his belt. Still, I recognised him well enough. The stubbled jowls and sunken eyes were not enough to disguise that keen stare.

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