“See?” Al waved his cigar expansively. “It’s already begun, Avvy. Ain’t nothing you can do about it. By lunch I’m gonna own
the entire city administration. Just like the old days when Big Bill Thompson was in my pocket. And I got even bigger plans
for tomorrow.”
“It won’t work,” Avram Harwood whispered. “It can’t work.”
“Course it will, Avvy. The thing is… returned souls. They ain’t altogether marbles intacto.
Capisce?
It’s not just an Organization I’m building. Shit. We can be honest in here, you and me. It’s a whole new government for New
California. I need people who can help me run it. I need people who can run the factory machines. I need people who can keep
the lights on and the water flowing, who’re gonna take the garbage away. Fuck, if all that goes down the pan, my citizens,
they’re gonna come gunning for me, right? I mean, that’s what the Retros didn’t think about. What happens after? You still
gotta keep things running smoothly.” Al sat on the arm of Avram Harwood’s comfy chair and put a friendly arm around his shoulder.
“Which is where you come in, Mr Mayor. Plenty of people want to run it. Everyone in this room, they all want to be my lieutenants.
But it’s the old problem. Sure they’re keen, but they ain’t got the talent. But you, you my boy, you have got the talent.
So how about it? Same job as before. Better salary. Perks. Fancy girl or two on the side if you like. So what do you say?
Huh, Avvy? Say yeah. Make me happy.”
“Never.”
“What? What was that, Avvy? I didn’t hear too good.”
“I said NEVER, you psychopathic freak.”
Very calmly, Al rose to his feet. “I ask. I go down on my fucking knees and ask you to help me. I ask you to be my friend.
You, a wiseass I ain’t never even seen before. I open my goddamn heart to you. I’m bleeding across the floor for you here.
And you say no? No. To me!” Three scars burned hot and bright on his cheek. Everyone else in the office had retreated into
a daunted silence.
“Is that what you’re saying, Avvy? No?”
“You got it, shithead,” Avram Harwood shouted recklessly. Something wild was running free in his brain, a mad glee at confounding
his adversary. “The answer is never. Never. Never.”
“Wrong.” Al flicked his cigar onto the thick carpet. “You got it way wrong, buddy. The answer is yes. It is always yes when
you talk to me. It is yes fucking please Mr Capone Sir. And I’m going to fucking well hear you say it.” A fist thumped on
his chest for emphasis. “Today is the day you say yes to me.”
Mayor Avram Harwood took one look at the stained baseball bat which had materialized in Al Capone’s hands, and knew it was
going to be
bad
.
• • •
Duke-dawn failed. There was no sign of the primary sun’s comforting white light brushing the short night before it as the
bright disk rose above the wolds. Instead, a miscreant coral phosphorescence glided out over the horizon, staining the vegetation
a lustreless claret.
For a harrowingly confused moment Louise thought that Duchess was returning, racing around the underside of the planet after
it had set scant minutes ago to spring up ahead of the lumbering Romany caravan. But after a minute’s scrutiny she realized
the effect was due to a high haze of reddish mist. It really was Duke which had risen.
“What is it?” Genevieve inquired querulously. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure.” Louise scanned the horizon, leaning around the corner of the caravan to check behind them. “It looks like
a layer of fog really high up, but why is it that colour? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Well I don’t like it,” Genevieve announced, and folded her arms across her chest. She glared ahead.
“Do you know what’s doing that?” Carmitha asked Titreano.
“Not entirely, my lady,” he said, appearing troubled. “And yet, I sense there is a rightness to it. Do you not feel comforted
by its presence?”
“No I bloody don’t,” Carmitha snapped. “It’s not natural, and you know it.”
“Yes, lady.”
His subdued acknowledgement did nothing to alleviate her nerves. Terror, uncertainty, lack of sleep, not having eaten since
yesterday, remorse, it was all starting to add up.
The caravan trundled on for another half a mile under the brightening red light. Carmitha steered them along a well-worn track
below a forest. Here, the land’s gentle undulations were gradually increasing to form deeper vales and rolling hills. Dried
up streambeds crisscrossed the slopes, emptying into the deeper gullies which ran along the floor of each valley. There was
more woodland than out on the open wolds, more cover from, and for, prying eyes. All they had to go on was Titreano’s strange
sixth sense.
Nobody spoke, too tired or too fearful. Louise realized the birds were missing from the air. The characterless forest loomed
up like a shaggy cliff face mere yards away, bleak and repellent.
“Here we are,” Carmitha said as they rounded a curve in the track. It had taken longer than she thought. Eight hours at least.
Not good for poor old Olivier.
Ahead of them the slope dipped down to expose a broad valley with heavily forested sides. The alluvial floor was a chessboard
of neat fields, all marked out by long dry-stone walls and geneered hawthorn hedges. A dozen streams bubbling out from the
head of the valley funnelled into a small river which meandered off into the distance. Red sunlight glinted off a narrow sliver
of water running along the centre of its baked clay banks.
Bytham was situated about three miles down the valley; a cluster of stone cottages split in half by the river. Over the centuries
the community had grown outwards from a single humpbacked stone bridge. At the far end, a narrow church spire rose above the
thatched roofs.
“It looks all right,” Louise said cautiously. “I can’t see any fires.”
“Quiet enough,” Carmitha agreed. She hardly dared consult Titreano. “Are your kind out there?” she asked.
His eyes were closed, yet his head was thrust forwards, as though he were sniffing the air ahead. “Some of them,” he said,
regretfully. “But not all of the village has been turned. Not yet. People are wakening to the fact that great evil stalks
this land.” He glanced at Louise. “Where is your aerial machine berthed?”
She blushed. “I don’t know. I’ve never been here before.” She didn’t like to admit that apart from accompanying Mother on
a twice-yearly train trip to Boston for a clothes-buying spree she’d hardly ever ventured outside Cricklade’s sprawling boundaries.
Carmitha pointed to a circular meadow half a mile outside the town, with two modest hangars on the perimeter. “That’s the
aerodrome. And thank God it’s on this side of the village.”
“I suggest we make haste, lady,” Titreano said.
Still not quite trusting him, Carmitha nodded reluctantly. “One minute.” She stood up and hurried back into the caravan. Inside,
it was a complete mess. All her possessions had been slung about by her madcap dash from Colsterworth, clothes, pots and pans,
food, books. She sighed at the shards of broken blue and white china lying underfoot. Her mother always claimed the crockery
had come with the family from Earth.
The heavy chest under her bed was one article which hadn’t moved. Carmitha knelt down and spun the combination lock.
Louise gave the Romany woman an alarmed look when she emerged from the caravan. She was carrying a single-barrelled shotgun
and a belt of cartridges.
“Pump action,” Carmitha said. “It holds ten rounds. I’ve already loaded it for you. Safety’s on. You hold it, get used to
the weight.”
“Me?” Louise gulped in surprise.
“Yes, you. Who knows what’s waiting for us down there. You must have used a shotgun before?”
“Well, yes. Of course. But only on birds, and tree rats, and things. I’m not a very good shot, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t worry. Just point it in the general direction of any trouble, and shoot.” She gave Titreano a dry grin. “I’d give it
to you, but it’s rather advanced compared to the kind of guns you had in your day. Better Louise carries it.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
Now that Duke was higher in the sky it was doing its best to burn away the red mist which hung over the land. Occasionally
a beam of pure white sunlight would wash over the caravan, making all four of them blink from its glare. But for the most
part, the veil remained unbroken.
The caravan reached the valley floor, and Carmitha urged the cob into a faster trot. Olivier did his best to oblige, but his
reserves of strength were clearly ebbing.
As they drew nearer to the village they heard the church bell tolling. It was no glad peal calling the faithful to morning
service, just a monotonous strike. A warning.
“The villagers know,” Titreano announced. “My kind are grouping together. They are stronger that way.”
“If you know what they’re doing, do they know about you?” Carmitha asked.
“Yes, lady, I would fear so.”
“Oh, just wonderful.” The road ahead was now angling away from the direction in which the aerodrome lay. Carmitha stood on
the seat, and tried to work out where to turn off. The hedges and walls of the fields were spread out before her like a maze.
“Bugger,” she muttered under her breath. Both of the aerodrome’s hangars were clearly visible about half a mile away, but
you’d have to be a local to know how to get to them.
“Do they know we’re with you?” Carmitha asked.
“Probably not. Not over such a distance. But when we are closer to the village, they will know.”
Genevieve tugged anxiously at Titreano’s sleeve. “They won’t find us, will they? You won’t let them?”
“Of course not, little one. I gave my word I will not abandon you.”
“I don’t like this at all,” Carmitha said. “We’re too visible. And when they realize there’s four of us riding on it, your
side is going to know you’re travelling with non-possessed,” she said accusingly to Titreano.
“We can’t turn around now,” Louise insisted, her voice high and strained. “We’re so close. We’ll never have another chance.”
Carmitha wanted to add that there might not even be a pilot at the aerodrome; come to that she hadn’t actually seen the distinctive
shape of the aeroambulance itself yet. Could be in a hangar. But with the way their luck was turning out right now…
Both the sisters were obviously near the end of their tether. They looked dreadful, filthy and tired, close to breaking down
in tears—for all Louise’s outward determination.
Carmitha was surprised to realize just how much she had begun to respect the elder girl.
“You can’t go back, no,” Carmitha said. “But I can. If I take the caravan back to the woods the possessed will think we’re
all running away from Titreano here.”
“No!” Louise said in shock. “We’re together now. We’ve only got each other. There’s only us left in the whole world.”
“We are not all that’s left. Don’t ever think that. Outside Kesteven, people are going about their lives just like before.
And once you get to Norwich, they’ll be warned.”
“No,” Louise mumbled. But there was less conviction now.
“You know you have to go,” Carmitha continued. “But me. Hell, I’ll be a lot better off by myself. With my lore I can lose
myself in the forests; the possessed will never find me. I can’t do that with you three tagging along. You know us Romanies
belong with the land, girl.”
The corners of Louise’s mouth turned down.
“Don’t you?” Carmitha said sternly. She knew she was still being selfish; just plain didn’t want to admit she couldn’t stand
seeing their delicate hopes burnt to cinders when they reached the aerodrome.
“Yes,” Louise said docilely.
“Good girl. Okay, this section of road is wide enough to turn the caravan around. You three had better get down.”
“Are you sure of this, lady?” Titreano asked.
“Absolutely. But I’m holding you to your promise of guarding these two.”
He nodded sincerely and dropped down over the side.
“Genevieve?”
The little girl glanced up shyly, her lower lip pressed against her teeth.
“I know we didn’t get on too well, and I’m sorry we didn’t. But I want you to have this.” Carmitha reached behind her neck
and unfastened the pendant’s chain. The silver bulb which glinted in the pink light was made from a fine mesh, much dinted
now; but through the grid a filigree of thin brown twigs was just visible. “It used to be my grandma’s; she gave it to me
when I was about your age. It’s a charm to ward off evil spirits. That’s lucky heather inside, see? Genuine heather; it grew
on Earth in the time before the armada storms. There’s real earth magic stored in there.”
Genevieve held the bauble up in front of her face, studying it intently. A fast smile lit up her delicate features, and she
lunged forward to hug Carmitha. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for everything.” She climbed down into Titreano’s arms.
Carmitha gave an edgy smile to Louise. “Sorry it turned out the way it did, girl.”
“That’s all right.”
“Hardly. Don’t lose faith in your father because of what I said.”
“I won’t. I love Daddy.”
“Yes, I expect you do. That’s good, something to hold on to. You are going to be facing a few more dark days yet, you know.”
Louise started tugging at a ring on her left hand. “Here. It’s not much. Not lucky, or anything special. But it is gold, and
that’s a real diamond. If you need to buy anything, it’ll help.”
Carmitha eyed the ring in surprise. “Right. Next time I need a mansion I’ll remember.”
They both grinned sheepishly.
“Take care, Carmitha. I want to see you when I come back, when all this is over.” Louise twisted around, preparing to climb
down.
“Louise.”
There was such disquiet in the voice that Louise froze.
“There’s something wrong about Titreano,” Carmitha said quietly. “I don’t know if I’m just being paranoid, but you ought to
know before you go any further with him.”
A minute later Louise clambered gingerly down the side of the caravan, keeping hold of the pump-action shotgun, the cartridge
belt an uncomfortable weight around her hips. When she was on the dirt track she waved up at Carmitha. The Romany waved back
and flicked the cob’s reins.