Wings of Sorrow (A horror fantasy novel) (16 page)

“Yes,” said Sorrow, who was eyeing up a nearby group of geese suspiciously. “We are not safe here.”

Scarlet hadn’t noticed until then, but both her dad and Chester were covered in blood and bruises. They both sported matching lumps on their foreheads where The Saint cracked their skulls together, and each clutched at his ribs and winced with every breath.

“I need to go see what state my shop is in,” said Chester, “and see if that miserable old vulture, Margaret, has managed to live through all this.”

Scarlet glanced at Sorrow, who was almost on his feet now, although topless and bloody. Together, they resembled some kind of homeless street gang. Strangers in the distance grew closer, strolling along the path in both directions. “How on earth do we get back without anyone calling the police on us?”

“I suggest,” said Chester. “That we use haste. Sooner we get back and put the kettle on, the better.”

“Amen to that,” said her dad.

Scarlet shook her head. “Not what a demon-blooded girl wants to hear, dad.”

“Yeah, okay. Then let’s just thank the stars.”

“Thank you, stars,” said Sorrow, before picking up a stone and tossing it at a goose. “Can we go now, please?”

Scarlet chuckled. “I always wanted a bigger family, never thought it would be this one.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” said Chester. “Especially now.”

They hadn’t been able to avoid all attention on their stumbling journey back into town, but they kept their heads down and carried on as quickly as their limping gaits would allow. When they saw police coming out of Little Treasures Emporium, they hid inside an alleyway next to the bank, but once the cops left, Chester ushered them all inside.

“Who dealt with the police?” her dad mused, looking around at the ransacked interior of the shop that looked even worse than when they left it.

“I dealt with them,” said Margaret, staggering out from the backroom. “To be more precise, a well-placed telephone call to The Council dealt with them. They are going to list the disturbance as a burglary. Won’t be the first time the police in this town have turned a blind eye.”

“What do you mean?” Scarlet asked.

“Don’t you know? Redlake is positioned on top of a seal.”

“A seal? You mean like the swimming-dog thingies?”

Margaret rolled her eyes. “No, I don’t mean an aquatic seal. I mean a seal between the earth and the other places. The people in this town have a tolerance for the unusual that most places do not. The Council has contacts on the local police force and in the church. In fact, we were called in six months ago to investigate the death of twelve members of the local choir through supernatural means, but that’s a story better left untold. Needless to say, this town has a penchant for the strange.”

Scarlet’s dad sighed. “No wonder I got such a good price on the house.”

Holtby came out of the back to join them. He had a great big smile on his face—despite the fact his nose was obviously broken. “You folks didn’t die? How lovely. I take it the big blond fella is gone?”

Chester nodded. “Buried beneath the lake, and I don’t expect we’ll see him anytime soon.”

“Good,” said Margaret. “It pains me to speak ill of a fallen ally, but The Saint took things too far. He needed to be dealt with.”

Scarlet’s dad headed across the room in the direction of Margaret. He did so quickly enough that Holtby didn’t manage to get between them this time—from the look of him, the custodian wasn’t working at his full capacity.

Margaret reeled backwards as he punched her square on the nose, adding fresh blood to that caused by Scarlet earlier. She slumped against the counter—her spectacles crooked—and held her face in her hand. “What? What the…? Who the hell do you…?”

“You did a spell to kill my daughter. You have ten seconds to reverse it.”

“I… I can’t.”

“Then I’ll kill you.”

“As will I,” said Sorrow, moving up beside him. It was strange for Scarlet, seeing the two men side by side and cooperating.

“No, Mr Thomas, I cannot reverse the spell because there is nothing to reverse. I drained her life force. It is gone. There’s no way to bring it back.”

“You placed it in that receptacle.”

“No, sir. I placed The Spark inside. Your daughter’s life force evaporated in doing so. I’m sorry. Even if I could reverse the spell, I’m not sure I would, but I truly cannot.”

He went bright red. The weakness he’d displayed since leaving the lake went away, and he snarled like a rabid wolf. Holtby finally stepped in and put his hand on his chest. “Okay, fella. I let you get one shot in because you probably deserve it, but I can’t let you beat on the boss no more.”

“How can you protect this monster?” he demanded.

“Because she does more good than bad. You might not believe it, mister, but this has all been about doing the right thing.”

Margaret gathered herself and wiped away her nose-blood with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, Mr Thomas. You may hate me—I don’t blame you—but your daughter was going to destroy the world. My job was to stop her. It was never personal.”

“Like hell it isn’t personal. I will hunt your people down. You and your entire Council.”

“Then you’ll die, trust me,” said Holtby. “They sent
me
because I’m nice. You don’t want to meet my less-patient colleagues.”

“He will have me by his side,” said Sorrow, glaring at Holtby and looking like he would attack at any moment.

“Dad, Sorrow, stop it.”

He turned to face her. “We have to do something, Scarlet.”

“Maybe, but not right now. I don’t have the energy. I’m just glad I’m no longer The Spark. Leave them be.”

With a grunt, and a lingering sneer at Margaret, he backed away. Both Margaret and Holtby relaxed their postures.

“I’ll go and put the kettle on,” said Chester, disappearing into the back.

“Go and help him, dad. I want to talk to Margaret alone.”

“Not going to happen. I’m not-”

“Dad! Any damage she can do is already done. Leave us alone for a moment, will you? I’ll be right there when I’m finished.”

He went to argue, but the look on her face must have told him not to try, so he sighed, nodded, and retired to the back to help Chester.

Scarlet stepped towards Margaret who put her hands up. “Look, if you want to have a pop at me as well, go right ahead, but it will achieve nothing.”

“I don’t want to have a pop at you. I want to ask you for a favour. I figure it’s the least you can do for me.”

Margaret seemed confused, but let her guard drop a little. “What favour?”

“Make my dad forget.”

“Forget what?”

“Everything. If I only have a year, or less, I don’t want to spend it watching him drive himself insane trying to save me. I just want things to go back to how they were, for as long as I have left. It will be better for him, too. He’ll at least get to have a few more happy memories of me.”

Holtby crossed his arms and examined her closely, both eyes wide and jittery. “It’s gonna be pretty lonely, carrying a death sentence around on your own.”

“I won’t be alone,” she said. Sorrow had moved to the corner of the shop and was examining an antique Mickey Mouse stapler like it was the most interesting thing on earth. This whole time, he still had not managed to find a pair of shoes. It made her smile. “I have him.” She turned back to Margaret. “Can you do it?”

Margaret nodded. “If you’re sure?”

“I am.”

“Then I just need an hour to prepare.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Margaret nodded with a slight grin on her face. Before she went off, she gave Scarlet one last lingering look.

“What is it?” asked Scarlet.

“Nothing. I’m just truly sorry that you won’t live to reach my age. You’re a brave girl.”

Scarlet didn’t reply. She had nothing to say to the woman. Instead, she went over to Sorrow and led him towards the backroom. “Let’s go have a cup of tea,” she said. “Everything will hurt a little less afterwards.”

“I do not enjoy pain,” he said.

“Who does?”

“No, I mean, before, pain was just something that I endured, but now it is… harder to bear. It makes me feel strange, like I have something building behind my eyes.”

She looked at him. “Sorrow, you’re crying.”

“Impossible. Demons do not cry.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say, you’re weeping like a little boy with the measles.”

“What is measles?”

“Doesn’t matter. If you can’t cry, then why
are
you?”

“Because the pain hurts. Hurts too much. I feel weak.”

“Sorrow, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “It started when my wings came back.”

“When my blood touched you?”

“Yes. It made me feel strange. Powerful at first, but then, when my wings went away, I was left feeling weak, and… sad. But happy also, when I saw that you were alive and that The Saint was gone.”

“You’re human,” she said.

“No, I am not, but I think I am more human than I was. Your blood is in me.”

“That’s gross.”

“I am sorry that it is gross.”

“No, no, that’s okay. Are you going to be okay?”

He reached to his neck and clasped the pendant she had given him. It seemed to be some kind of comfort blanket to him now. “I do not know,” he said. “Perhaps Mr Chester will help me find answers to my questions. My nature is evil, but how much control do I have over my own destiny?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But if you ask me, destiny is just The Father’s way of trying to control us. I say, don’t let him.”

Sorrow smiled, more warmly than he ever had before. “I should like to have a cup of tea. It would be most human, yes?”

She chuckled. “Yep, and quite a lot British.”

“But I am yours also,” he said. “For as long as I am here.”

She clasped his hand and pulled him along. “Then let’s enjoy it while it lasts. Life is short.”

Sorrow nodded. “Yet long enough to make living worthwhile.”

“Or dying,” she said. “Sometimes dying is worthwhile too.”

“You are wise, Scarlet. My memory returns slowly, but I do not know why it ever deserted me. I seek answers, but I understand little. I feel lost in this world.”

“Then allow me to guide you.”

Before joining Chester and her dad, she pulled Sorrow in for a kiss. And there was a spark of magic.

Scarlet had become a woman since the last time she had seen her—a beautiful, brave one. A mother should have been proud, but it filled Nesta only with dread. Watching her now while she limped up the front path to her house with her father’s arm around her, it became clear that she had almost died this morning. The forces of Good had acted decisively, even though they were taken unawares by Scarlet’s premature awakening.

Nesta’s plan to catch the enemy napping had almost worked. The prophecies all spoke of The Spark emerging upon the vessel coming of age, but Nesta had managed to bend the rules slightly. In the United Kingdom, a child was able to leave home at 16—so in a way they came of age earlier than eighteen. Prophecies always had loopholes.

Then the White Order had got involved and ruined everything. Not only had they taken the Spark from her daughter, but they had taken most of her life too. Scarlet was destined to be queen of a new world, but they had reduced her to a footnote. She’d be dead within a year.

But Nesta would not allow that to happen. Nobody screwed around with her daughter.

Nesta slunk back into the bushes across the street, but struggled to take her eyes away from Scarlet. So beautiful. Even now, her posture was stiff and determined, even as her father brought her a cup of tea and a blanket. It was good to see that he was looking after her. She always knew he would, in his own way. He had been a good man, a worthy partner. Sometimes she missed him.

Sometimes she missed them both.

Nesta’s mission had come at the expense of her family. The path she had abandoned would have provided warmth and shelter, but she had vowed her life to another. The Oil would not abide competition. The only choice she had had was to leave. It was a relief that Scarlet seemed to have done just fine without her.

The way Scarlet had faced the dangers arrayed against her had impressed Nesta, and she was already beginning to use blood magic too. She had no idea the power inside of her, and once the White Order was dealt with, Scarlet would become the most powerful being on earth. Everything would change.

Nesta held her necklace in her hand and felt it pulse with power. She had taken it from her daughter’s bedroom moments before The Saint had broken in. It felt wrong stealing from Scarlet, but the necklace was too important to let fall into the wrong hands. The necklace was more important than anybody realised. With it, Nesta could fix all of the damage that had been done by meddling pests. She could restore her daughter’s lifeforce and give her back the Spark. The plan could still go as intended. Nothing had to change.

The first thing Nesta was going to do was deal with the White Order.

And then anybody else who got in her way.

The world was going to end, and be reborn. Nothing was going to prevent that.

And Scarlet was the key to it all.

END