The Honours (38 page)

‘You forgot one,' said Anwen.

Cox picked up the Mauser from the foot of the statue.

‘Quite so.' He pulled back the bolt and checked the magazine. By Delphine's reckoning there was one round left. ‘Hmm. I consider this rather handsome. I may, ah . . . retain it while the young lady remains in our custody.'

Delphine began pacing the room, her hands clasped behind her back. She scanned the floor for anything useful, preferably a box of matches. She had left her only box in the slip pocket of her bandolier. She noted the length of safety fuse running away from the charges. It coiled across the stone floor. How many seconds per foot had Mr Garforth said it burned at – twenty? He wouldn't have left himself less than three minutes' grace – enough time for an old man to hobble back up the steps and clear of the blast.

Was it possible Cox and Anwen hadn't noticed the charges? Or did they not realise what they were?

Delphine paced. She could walk away. Anwen had said she could just walk away. Perhaps they were lying, perhaps they would shoot her in the back, but then, they had honoured their agreement with Miss DeGroot, hadn't they?

What about their plans to conquer Britain? A whole army waiting on the other side of the channel, and some terrible weapon. If she walked away now, if she didn't try to stop them, how many people would die?

Delphine twisted the hem of her cardigan round her fingers and tried to keep her expression neutral. She could leave and never look back and she and Mother and Daddy could escape to America.
Perhaps Anwen was bluffing, anyway. Perhaps she didn't really have the troops to mount an invasion. What could she possibly have that would stand a chance against machine guns and tanks and planes and hundreds of thousands of British soldiers?

Of course, there was another option.

What if Delphine joined her? Immortality. A journey to another world. Delphine felt a sick pain in her belly. She didn't want to leave England. She didn't want to leave her parents.

Maybe, if she cooperated, she could convince them to call off their attack. Maybe she could make them choose peace.

Except it was too late for that. She was already committed.

‘Stop that.'

Delphine froze.

‘Endlessness?' said Cox.

‘Stop tapping your foot.'

Cox glanced down at his boot. ‘I beg your pardon. I was not aware I – '

‘Yes, yes. Shh. Let the girl think.' She flashed a faint smile at Delphine.

Delphine glanced at Cox. He had two fingers hooked into the collar of his shirt and was grinding his teeth. Sweat painted his neck.

She had to make a decision. She had to come up with a plan. In a couple of minutes, it would be too late.

But she was sick of having to decide things. She was sick of the responsibility. She shouldn't have to be strong. She ought to have people looking after her.

A noise from the passageway.

‘Who goes there?' Cox squawked the challenge. ‘Show yourself! Damn you, I'll, uh, uh . . . ' He wagged the pistol towards the noise.

‘Mr Cox, control yourself!' Anwen rose and stomped the rock. ‘You're skittish as a maiden aunt. What on earth's got into you?'

Out of the gloom of the tunnel trudged four vesperi. One was supporting its comrade, whose snapped wing dragged along the ground. The creature's arm was crudely splinted with a branch and strips of cloth. Its nose-leaf was clogged with clotted blood. The front two
vesperi glanced from Delphine, to Cox, to Anwen. On seeing their leader, unmasked, they dropped to their knees, shielding their eyes.

‘How dare you enter unannounced?' Cox's rage snapped off the walls of the cavern. ‘How dare you lay your worthless eyes on – '

‘Rutherford!' Anwen dealt him a backhanded slap across the face. Cox reeled, blinked, looked at her. ‘I will not tell you a third time.'

Mr Cox was shivering, chewing at the air. He closed his eyes, nodded.

‘Y-yes, Endlessness.'

Anwen turned to the vesperi. ‘Please, girls.' She swept a hand towards the pool. ‘Go. Be comforted. And thank you for your service.'

Their brown eyes fixed on the floor, the four creatures filed up to the edge of the channel. Delphine watched as they lowered their injured comrade into the liquid. The beast laid its head back, sinking with a dry rasp. The other three climbed in one at a time, closing their eyes as the thick black water oozed into the hollows of their ears, closed over the thistledown that covered their scalps.

Anwen shook her head. ‘They have lost greatly today. See how they adore me, Delphine. I am the only family these poor children have ever known.'

‘They're not children.'

‘Oh?' Anwen looked at Delphine pityingly. ‘A vesperi can't fly after her fourteenth year. She grows too big. You saw Mr Loosley.'

‘But . . . but . . . '

‘Oh, so
now
you feel regret? Did you think just because they looked different to you, they were monsters?'

‘No, I . . . '

‘So you see it's all very well to call
me
a beast, Delphine. I only wanted my daughter back. You and your associates have killed dozens of children.'

‘No!' Delphine felt the familiar pull of the stammer, fattening her tongue. ‘Wuh . . . wuh . . . ' She took a breath. ‘We were duh . . . ' Another breath. ‘We were defending ourselves.'

‘As you should have.' Anwen pressed both hands to her breastbone. ‘As was I. Don't you see, child? We're the same, you and I. We hold
the same things dear. The world will call you wicked for what you've done, but
I understand
. Armchair moralists never have to face the consequences of their actions, of their inaction. The country we love will perish without our help.'

Anwen shook her head. ‘Fallen cherub, to be weak is miserable.'

She moved quickly towards Delphine, wrenching down the collar of her heavy overcoat. ‘Enough waiting. Join me.'

‘Eh-Eh-Endlessness . . . '

Anwen rounded on Cox. ‘What did I just tell you?'

‘Eh-Endlessness . . . please . . . '

Cox jerked his head back, grimacing. The Mauser twitched in his grip.

Footsteps approached through the tunnel.

‘More stragglers,' said Anwen, cupping the swollen sac of grubs on her neck. Delphine turned to look, her heart thundering. She had to act now. This was her last chance.

Out of the darkness stepped a lean man with silvery hair, stripped to the waist.

‘Who are you?' said Anwen.

Daddy swayed, the air around him buckling.

‘Oh my God,' said Anwen. Her hand dropped to her side. ‘He's one of us.'

CHAPTER 44

WHILE MEN SLEEP

D
addy took a step forward. His bare foot hit a puddle and the water frothed, evaporating. Steam rose from the surrounding rock, droplets forming on his chest hair. His eyes were pink. ‘He's been stung,' said Anwen.

‘He's a peer. But I . . . I don't . . . '

‘A pr-pretender!' said Cox. ‘I'll . . . k-kill you!' He dropped the pistol and held his arm straight, palm up. ‘D-d-damnation!' He opened his mouth in a snarl then apparently found himself unable to close it. He glanced from his shaking arm to Anwen and began emitting a low whine.

‘What's wrong?' said Anwen.

Daddy took another lurching step. Water hissed and vanished.

‘Daddy!' said Delphine.

He blinked, swung his head blindly.

Anwen was staring at Mr Cox. ‘Rutherford? Speak, damn you. Oh God, you really
did
poison her drink, didn't you?'

Cox arched his back and cawed. His teeth clacked shut. Sweat beaded along his jawline.

‘He didn't,' said Delphine. ‘I did.'

She let the bottle of rat poison she had found in Mr Garforth's back room roll from her sleeve, into her palm. It was empty.

She flung it at Anwen's face. Anwen threw her arms up. Delphine ran at Cox.

He saw her coming and pivoted with his whole torso, trying to slap her with his rigid arm. She ducked, driving her shoulder into his ribs. She hit him hard. Cox twisted, tripping over his feet. As he fell, he clipped his head on a harka statue.

Delphine leapt on him. He writhed and kicked under her, hands stiffening into claws. She thrust her fingers into his waistcoat's fob pocket, hunting for the matchbook. The pocket was empty. She reached for the other one. Cox gargled. He was weeping. The silk was hot and smooth beneath her fingertips. Her nails found the ridge of the matchbook then strong hands gripped her shoulders and she was surging upwards.

‘Get
off
him!' Anwen rattled Delphine back and forth. Delphine kicked. She felt her foot connect with Anwen's stomach. Below, Cox grunted. Anwen turned and hurled Delphine. Cold air rushed over Delphine's ears then a flash of white –

A great carpet of heat prickled her flesh and pressed like a weight. She came round on her back. A droplet of water fell from the ceiling and struck her –
tap
– in the centre of the forehead.

It was warm.

‘Rutherford?' The voice made her sit up. In guttering lamplight, Anwen Stokeham stood over the body of Mr Cox. He lay at the base of the stern harka statue, legs splayed clownishly, one arm twisted over his face. ‘Rutherford?' Anwen put out a hand, but it froze, as if encountering glass. She clutched her temple. ‘Rutherford? I can't hear you! Rutherford!' She was shouting. Her blue eyes were fixed on a patch of floor. ‘Rutherford. Rutherford. Rutherford.'

Another almighty gasp of heat broke against Delphine. Shielding her eyes, she turned towards it.

Daddy's pale body flickered in the heatwarp.

With each crackling step, water vaporised. Steam condensed on the ceiling. Droplets fell and exploded
pfff ahhhhh pfff
on his head and shoulders. Rills of white vapour coiled and shifted around the contours of his body. Flame broke out near his collarbone; flesh blistered, cauterising; the flame extinguished. He swung his head, grinding his teeth.

‘Daddy!'

She tried to get up. A stabbing pain lanced behind her right kneecap. Her skull throbbed.

Anwen was down on one knee, clutching at Mr Cox's lapels. Water dripped onto her yellow-white hair.

‘Rutherford, please. Rutherford. Don't leave me.'

She pressed her face into the breast of his jacket. His limp body shook as she held him.

‘Daddy? It's Delphine.'

Daddy had the blind stare of a sleepwalker. The jacket of the dead skinwing at his feet bloomed into flame. He inhaled and the air round him billowed.

‘We were going to walk the universe,' said Anwen. She lifted her head; her face was streaked with tears.

Her eyes found Delphine. ‘You.'

‘Daddy!' She took a step towards him but the heat forced her back, stinging exposed skin. ‘Daddy, you have to go back!'

Anwen picked up the pistol. She aimed it at Delphine's head.

Her index finger slid from the trigger guard. She rotated the broomhandle grip till the muzzle pointed back at her. She held the gun out.

‘Kill me.'

Delphine did not move. Anwen marched at her.

‘Kill me!'

Delphine backed away.

‘Arthur?' Daddy spun to face her, ruddy-eyed, groping at braids of vapour. Fires were breaking out all over his body. ‘Arthur, where are you?'

‘Here! I'm here!'

Delphine's shoulder blades bumped into the moist rock of the chamber wall.

‘Do it!' Anwen thrust the pistol at her. ‘Do it, you bloody coward!' She grabbed Delphine's wrist and tried to force the Mauser into her hand. The ivory clasp had fallen from Anwen's hair; wild strands raked her face. Sweat streamed down her. Her breath reeked of petrol. ‘Finish what you started!'

‘Daddy! Help me!'

‘Arthur!' Daddy let out a frothing howl. Black smoke streamed from his throat. He slapped at flames rising from a wound in his gut. The gash sizzled shut, flesh bubbling under his fingers. His forearm kindled; flames chewed through regenerating skin. He gargled, staggered. His steel-grey hair blackened, regrew. He was burning, healing, burning.

One of Daddy's eyes began smoking. He arched his back, gasping. Delphine heard the eyeball burst with a soft
potch
.

‘Daddy!' Delphine tried to run for him, but Anwen shoved her back against the wall.

‘You could help him,' said Anwen, pushing her face close to Delphine's. ‘You could take away his suffering.'

Delphine saw translucent blisters swelling on Daddy's throat. Grubs waiting to hatch. His regrown eyeball popped.

‘He has no handmaiden,' said Anwen. ‘Without servants a peer feels all the pain of the honours himself. Agony without end.'

‘Daddy! I'm here!'

‘Arthur!' In his blindness, he groped for her, raw pink arms trailing steam.

‘It's your daughter! It's Delphy!' Even at this distance, the heat was incredible. It stung her face, making her squint.

Daddy lowered his arms. Charred flesh on his neck crackled sickeningly as he turned towards her.

‘Delphy?'

‘Daddy. You're hurt, but you're going to be all right.' She inhaled through her nostrils and smelt the coppery, bilious stink of roasting flesh.

Anwen's breaths were quick gusts against her cheek.

‘You could lift his burden,' said Anwen. ‘Or are you too proud?

Delphine felt strangely calm.

‘Daddy,' said Delphine. ‘Stay still. Let me come to you. I will take your pain.'

Anwen stepped back.

‘Stay where you are, Daddy. I'm coming to you.'

She moved towards him. The heat was like a wall.

‘Stop!' Daddy held up a palm.

Delphine kept walking.

‘Delphy! No!' He clenched his hands into fists and slammed them to his temples. The air whistled and flexed.

All over his body, gouts of flame extinguished. The temperature dropped.

He staggered.

She ran to him, caught him. His skin was dry and warm, but not scalding.

‘It's all right,' she said. ‘It's all right. I've got you.'

‘I know.'

‘Oh God. I thought you'd burn for ever.'

‘Delphy.' He clutched the neck of her cardigan and dragged her till his lips were at her ear. ‘I can feel it inside of me. I'm holding it in but it wants to come back. I can't . . . I can't stop it.'

She looked into his eyes. He looked back. He could see her. It was him.

‘I will take your pain for you,' she said, her voice breaking. ‘You won't hurt any more. We can be together forever.'

Daddy took a deep breath. He touched a hand to the fluid-filled growths on his throat. He smiled.

‘This is my burden.'

He began to back away.

‘No!' Delphine tried to run after him but an arm caught her round the neck.

‘So this is your daughter?' said Anwen.

Daddy halted. ‘Please, let her go.'

‘Joining the perpetuum is not a gift. It is a duty.' Anwen brandished the Mauser in her right hand. Her voice shuddered with malice. ‘Duty requires sacrifice. She can be your payment. You must learn what it means to live as others die. I'll take her from you as she took from me.'

Anwen stepped away and turned the gun on Delphine.

‘No!' Daddy stepped forward. His heel fell on the length of black safety fuse snaking across the floor. Nothing happened, then –

An angry hiss came from under the arch of his foot. The fuse
began burning in both directions, fierce orange flames with white hearts. Daddy grunted; coils of smoke twisted from his fingertips. Tendons stood out on his neck as he made a fist,
squeezing
the smoke in his hand till it extinguished.

Anwen glanced at the burning fuse. Delphine shoved her. Anwen stumbled. Delphine twisted out of her grip and ran for the fizzing fuse. She had to cut it, somehow. Daddy cried out. Delphine glanced back, saw Anwen aiming the Mauser.

There was nowhere to hide.

She closed her eyes.

A blast of flame.