When she walked through the front door, her nostrils were assailed almost immediately by the smell of marijuana smoke. It indicated Taziel hadn’t moved from the flat all morning, but that was not unusual. She found him sprawled on the sofa in the living room, shrouded in a fug of smoke, reading a horror novel. She and Taziel had been sharing the flat for two weeks now, ever since Aninka had been handed the keys by her guardian, Enniel. She felt that Enniel was quietly angry with both of them for failing to entrap Peverel Othman in Little Moor. Only she mustn’t think of him in those terms any more. Peverel Othman had ceased to exist; Shemyaza had been reborn. Enniel had assured Aninka, during the embarrassing confession of their failure at the family house in Cornwall, that he did not blame her or Taziel for Shemyaza’s escape. The implication in his words was that he blamed Lahash Murkaster, his own agent, who’d accompanied them to the north. Aninka and Taziel were soft, artistic types, strangers to the world of deceit, cunning and manipulation. Lahash, on the other hand, had been trained to deal with situations like the one in Little Moor.
At first, Aninka had hoped to see more of Lahash once their ‘mission’ was ended, but he didn’t contact her, and she had no idea where he was. Sometimes she’d suspected he wasn’t interested in seeing her again, then reassured herself with the thought that he too did not know her whereabouts. It was unlikely Enniel would have told him. Taziel, whom she knew thought little of Lahash, never mentioned their erstwhile companion. He didn’t seem to want to talk about anything connected with what had happened to them.
Taziel had been recalled from Vienna by Enniel, forced to abandon his life there, in order to help track down the Anakim, Peverel Othman. Aninka had offered her services voluntarily, although she and Taziel were linked by a common experience. Both were ex-lovers, if that term could be used, of Peverel Othman. Both had witnessed the excesses of his behaviour. Both were scarred by it. Taziel had maintained a strong psychic link with Othman, which he had used to pinpoint the Anakim’s whereabouts. What followed had been a dash to the north, in the hope of capturing Othman, alive or dead. Lahash Murkaster had carried a gun: Aninka had seen it. But the climax of their search had been beyond their imaginations. On a sacred hill in the middle of a forest, Peverel Othman had performed his last, dark ritual. He had craved power, or so they supposed, but the outcome of his rite had been the stripping away of ignorance, presumably the last thing Othman had wanted or imagined. From the ashes of Othman had come Shemyaza. It was still hard to believe what they’d seen.
Shemyaza had slipped away from them, and they’d been forced to return to Cornwall and admit their failing. Taziel said that the Parzupheim, the governing body of the Grigori families, of which Enniel was a prominent member, had always known who Othman was. Aninka wasn’t sure. Would the Parzupheim have sent only three people to the north if they’d suspected the truth?
Aninka wondered why Taziel didn’t return to Vienna now; he had a band waiting there for him, and, she gathered, a lover. Still, he made no attempt to go home, and as far as Aninka knew had not even telephoned his people there. But, as she was out so much more than he was, perhaps he did that when he was alone. He seemed content to do nothing, just sit around, although in the evenings he and Aninka went out together to pubs and clubs, or to the cinema. They got on quite well, which surprised her. Their common bond of the failed love affair with Peverel Othman was never alluded to. Far easier to talk about their shared interest in films and books and music. Their nights out together were more like workshops than social occasions. They talked about art, ripped it apart, stuck it back together again, even made tentative plans. Taziel wanted to write a contemporary opera, and suggested Aninka could design the sets and the costumes for it. It gave them something to think about, something on which to focus their minds, so that uncomfortable memories could not squeeze in to haunt them. Aninka felt they were living in limbo. The talk of working together was a fantasy, because their involvement with Othman, or Shemyaza, was unfinished. The episode was not over yet, but merely going through a lull. The thought made her shudder. She felt this strongly and wondered whether Taziel felt the same. Sometimes she wanted to ask him, because she felt his decision to remain in England must have something to do with it, but she sensed he’d just flare up and get angry if the subject was mentioned.
Then, on the eighth night of their occupation of the flat, Lahash had turned up at the door. He’d seemed edgy but pleased to see them. He’d bought flowers for Aninka, scentless and unnaturally blue, probably purchased from a garage on the way to the flat. Still, she appreciated the gesture.
‘How did you find us?’ she asked. The three of them sitting together in the low-lit living-room, conjured memories of their time together in hotel bedrooms while they had hunted for Othman, and brought with it a sense of excitement.
‘It wasn’t that difficult,’ Lahash answered, smiling slyly. He was dressed, as usual, in a smart suit, over which he wore a long raincoat. Aninka always thought he looked as if he worked for the CIA, and wondered why she found him attractive. She didn’t normally fancy men with short hair, whether they were Grigori or human.
Taziel looked distinctly uncomfortable, perhaps sensing that Lahash’s appearance would mean they’d have to talk about Othman, and the experiences they’d shared. Still, he did not leave the room, merely watched Lahash with narrowed eyes through a veil of sweet-smelling smoke. He was the opposite of Lahash — longhaired and scruffy, his body posture languid rather than alert.
‘Are you in trouble?’ Aninka asked. ‘What did Enniel say to you?’
Lahash shrugged. ‘He implied I was careless, and in the heat of remonstrations, even that I might have let the Anakim escape deliberately.’ He grimaced. ‘After all, my blood too is tainted.’ He referred to the fact that the Murkasters were a disgraced branch of the family.
‘That’s ridiculous!’ Aninka exclaimed. ‘I did tell Enniel what happened, you know. I made sure he knew there was nothing any of us could do, and even that it was Taziel and I who wanted to give up the chase. You were the one who thought we should carry on.’
‘Thanks. Although I don’t think your — er — testimony did much good.’
‘I could speak to him again,’ Aninka suggested.
Lahash shook his head. ‘No, don’t do that. I don’t think it’s a good idea he finds out I’ve contacted you. As far as Enniel is concerned, you and Taz are off the case.’
‘We’re not, you know,’ Aninka dared to say, not looking at Taziel. ‘It’s not over yet, for any of us.’
Lahash nodded. ‘That is one of the reasons I wanted to find you.’ He gave Aninka a significant glance, which effectively increased her heartbeat.
Taziel had not yet uttered a word to Lahash other than a surly greeting. Now, he voiced a question. ‘What do you want?’
Lahash glanced at him, his expression showing plainly that he expected trouble from this quarter. ‘I want to know where Peverel Othman is. No, I want to know where Shemyaza is. And the best way to do that is to utilise the talents of the one person who’s professed to have a psychic ability to track him, namely yourself. I want him, Taz. He escaped me, because I wasn’t prepared for what happened at Little Moor. Now, I know what I’m dealing with, and I can handle it. This isn’t over until I deliver Shemyaza, alive or dead, to High Crag.’ Lahash’s expression had become steely, with a hint of mania.
‘So you can absolve yourself in Enniel’s eyes?’ Taziel laughed harshly. ‘Show him you’re a clever boy, after all. You’re pathetic! You think I’ll help you? Are you so obsessed with Shemyaza you can’t face an obvious truth? There’s no way I want to open up that wound again. Aninka knows it, so why don’t you?’
Aninka was annoyed with Taziel. The confrontational side to his nature hadn’t manifested once since they’d been in the flat. ‘Why haven’t you gone home?’ she asked sharply. ‘If you’d really thought this business was over, surely you’d have resumed your life as it was. You don’t fool me, Taz.’
Taziel blinked at her, apparently surprised someone he’d considered to be an ally had turned on him. She suspected that, had they been alone, he might have talked about his feelings, but Lahash was there, so Taziel’s defence screens were raised and impregnable.
‘I just don’t see why we should let ourselves be used, so Lahash can worm his way back into the Parzupheim’s favour. You know how dangerous this is, Ninka. Shemyaza is insane and unpredictable. He must have killed thousands of people. We, he discarded. We were lucky. There is no reason now for us to get involved. We’ve been paid off, and have a safe haven. You think I’m waiting here to find a way to Shemyaza? You’re wrong. I’m not sure whether I can go back to Vienna. But that has nothing to do with him. I have a feeling that I’ve moved on to a new cycle in my life. Going back belongs to feeling hurt and betrayed. I want to be here now, in England.’
Aninka had not expected to hear anything like that. ‘What about your... people you’re close to in Europe?’ she asked lamely.
Taziel shrugged. ‘I’m not in love with anyone, if that’s what you mean. Peverel Othman killed that in me. There’s no-one in Vienna who can’t survive without me. I’m a better person here.’
Lahash shifted uneasily in his chair, as if he found the honesty of Taziel’s remarks painful to hear.
Aninka shook her head. ‘This is all too much. We mustn’t argue. Anyone want a drink?’ She went to the liquor cupboard and poured out the drinks in silence. When she handed Taziel a glass of rum, Lahash said,
‘You know where he is, don’t you, Taz?’
Taziel and Aninka froze, both their hands wrapped around the tumbler. Aninka could have slapped Lahash. Why didn’t he let it drop for now? Nothing would be gained by bullying Taziel. Left alone with him, she was sure she’d be able to convince him to co-operate. How could she intimate this to Lahash before he ruined every chance?
Taziel took the drink from Aninka’s hand. ‘Of course I do,’ he replied.
‘What?’ Aninka cried. ‘You do?’
Taziel nodded, took a sip. ‘I can’t help knowing. But I do try to ignore it.’ He laughed at Lahash’s expression; a melange of surprise, excitement and hope. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’m going to concentrate and tell you exactly where he is. I’m sorry, Lahash. It’s one ghost I’ve got to let rest.’
‘And you’re quite content to live the rest of your life knowing Shemyaza is around, feeling him around?’ Lahash shook his head. ‘Doesn’t it bother you he has such an affect on you? It’s an intrusion, isn’t it, that presence in your head? Continual mental rape. I think you’re a coward. You’re afraid of him.’
Taziel laughed again, with even less warmth than before. ‘Yeah. I am. And you’re not? If you answer no to that question, then you’re not qualified to try and find him. Only a fool would not be afraid of him. He would crush you like a hollow bone.’
Lahash shook his head. ‘Help me find him, Taz. . . Just tell me where he is. That’s all I ask. You don’t have to face him, if that’s what you’re scared of.’
‘He will kill you,’ Taziel replied, sipping his rum.
‘Just tell me.’ Lahash’s voice was quiet, his eyes dark and direct.
Taziel shook his head. ‘No.’
Lahash left soon after, although in the privacy of the hall arranged to meet Aninka for lunch the following day. ‘I’ll do what I can,’ she whispered as she closed the door on him. In her heart, she was afraid that Lahash’s attraction to her was far outweighed by his desire to snare Shemyaza. Feeling slightly depressed by this thought, she went back into living-room and poured herself another brandy. Taziel had turned on the TV and was now watching the ten o’clock news.
Aninka stared at him, willing him to look up, but he clearly sensed her desire and ignored her. Sighing, she sat down on the chair, which was still warm from Lahash’s body. After a few minutes, Taziel said, ‘You’ll never get Othman back, Ninka. He’s dead.’
Aninka shuddered. ‘I know. Despite what you think, I really don’t want to.’
Taziel glanced at her. ‘But you feel the same way as Lahash does. It wouldn’t take much to fire you up into a search lust again, would it?’
Aninka found she was shivering. ‘No. I admit that. I still want him found and... contained.’
Taziel shook his head slowly. ‘It’s too dangerous, Ninka. He is Shemyaza now. If I try to find him, he’ll no doubt sense it, and come crashing into my brain like a hurricane. He might want to use me again, or simply kill me to cover his tracks. I have no way of knowing which way he’d turn, and I don’t want to find out. One thing I am sure of is that he won’t just run away and hide. Not now. He has to be stronger now.’
‘Surely you could protect yourself.’ In her heart, Aninka felt bad about pushing the matter. She knew Taziel was right and that he’d be the person most at risk if they went along with Lahash’s request. But she could not stop herself.
There was a moment’s silence, then Taziel said, ‘He’s in London. Too close.’
Aninka’s heart turned over. ‘Here? But... Taz, have you been looking for him yourself?’ The last question was delivered carefully.
‘Not exactly, but I pick things up.’
He wouldn’t say any more.
Aninka related the information to Lahash as soon as he’d sat down opposite her in the restaurant where they’d arranged to meet.
‘Well done,’ Lahash said.
Aninka frowned. ‘It’s not enough, and I’m not sure whether I can convince Taz to do anything more.’
Lahash shook his head. ‘You’re wrong. What you said to Taz last night smacks of the truth. He would have gone home if he really thought this business was over. Anything else he might say is simply excuses. We just have to wait, that’s all. You know what he’s like. Be patient. Trust me.’
When she got back to the flat, after a very pleasant couple of hour’s conversation, some of it promisingly suggestive, she found Taziel in the kitchen, holding the dish cloth to his nose, which was bleeding profusely. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
Taziel growled at her and slouched into the living room. Aninka followed. ‘Taz? What happened?’
Taziel removed the cloth from his nose and inspected it. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, although the lower half of his face was covered in blood. Experimentally, he sniffed. ‘This is what happens,’ he said.
Aninka rushed to his side, squatted down on the floor beside his chair. ‘What? What?’
‘When I try too hard.’ He reached for Aninka’s hands, squeezed them. ‘I don’t know why I did it.’
‘Did what?’ Aninka dared not hope.
‘I have a location for you,’ Taziel said. ‘Are you satisfied now?’
She had been visiting the cafe for over a week now. From there, she could keep an eye on the Moses Assembly Rooms. Lahash knew of the place; it was a refuge for Grigori burnouts and freaks. Perhaps the most clever hiding place Shemyaza could have thought of because it was just so obvious a place to look for him.
Just as she was beginning to doubt Shemyaza, or any of his companions, were actually there, the boy had come into the cafe. The moment she laid eyes on him, she’d known he was significant. His name was Daniel, the name of Shemyaza’s vizier and prophet. Coincidence? Perhaps. The boy had been wary of her, she could tell. He had secrets, and had almost confessed to living at the Assembly Rooms. Working in a conference hall? No. Aninka had watched him leave the cafe and had stood in the side street as he made his way back there, disappearing down a side alley next to the Rooms. How to win his confidence? It would not be easy. He mustn’t find out who she was, although she did not feel afraid. For some moments, she had stood staring at the Assembly Room’s blank windows. Was Shemyaza really in there? It seemed bizarre to think she might be so close to him.
Now, she had to tell Taz she had made contact. Standing in the doorway to the living room she said, ‘Stage one has been completed.’ It was difficult not to laugh. She felt elated.
 
; Taziel looked up at her. ‘What happened?’
‘Daniel happened,’ she replied. ‘At least I think so.’
Chapter Four
The Scrying Pool
Meggie Penhaligon, her sisters of the Council around her, gazed into the lightless surface of the pool. It was situated behind the giant’s throne in their sacred cave, and when the tide was high, it replenished the pool with fresh seawater.
The women were silent, waiting for information to manifest before their eyes. The only sound was the insistent tone of a brass spirit-bowl, which Lissie held in her lap. She made it resonate by stroking its inner surface in circling motions, using a pointed wooden stick. Its eerie note eclipsed even the echoes of the sea. All concentrated hard upon the flat, dark surface of the water.
Several days had passed since the oracle had delivered his prophecy. Meggie had allowed this knowledge to settle within their minds before making further attempts to discover more. Delmar was not present this evening. He had fulfilled his function; the rest was up to the women.
Meggie’s eyes began to water, and her vision dimmed from the edges inwards: a black fog surrounding her, until all that she could see was the black glitter of the water. The tone of the spirit bowl filled her whole being, and the surface of the pool began to swirl. She saw colours, fragmented images. ‘Lady Seference, reveal to us the Fallen One.’ She had no doubt that her companions were also beginning to see shapes forming upon the surface of the pool. The images flared and died. Some were quite definite, others vague. Certain images clearly had nothing whatsoever to do with the work in hand, and were mere psychic intrusions.
Meggie saw Shemyaza’s shining face, and the diffuse but penetrating glow of his startlingly blue eyes. She had to force herself not to look away. Even to someone as old as she was, he stirred a tide of lust and longing within the body. She saw figures hovering around him, and even began to determine names: Daniel — that was prominent, then Emma, Lily, and even the other boy, Owen. This was only slightly more than Delmar had relayed to them before. What they needed to discover was how to lure the Shining One to Cornwall. Meggie tried to draw the veils of obscurity aside, project herself into the images before her. There was a link. She could see it now, as an image of the hated house, High Crag, shivered across the pool. The Pelleth knew that Grigori lived there, and it was close to their village. Shemyaza would be enveloped by the Grigori families. Although this could be seen as an obstacle, it also meant that he would at least be brought to Cornwall. Once he was in the vicinity, the task of the Pelleth would be so much easier. Reassured, Meggie pulled herself back to reality, and around her, felt the other women follow her lead. But for one.