Chapter Five
When I felt ready, I began my final ascent. By now I was fully enveloped by the night, wrapped in darkness and totally safe. I knew the dangers of over-confidence but, given that my approach so far had been so easy, I was buoyed with optimism. It seemed like luck was actually on my side.
My shadow flitted up to a window on the third floor. Like virtually all the others, dangerous light shone out as if warding me off. I stretched up to the right-hand side of the window frame and peeped in.
The hallway was empty. Of course, that didn’t mean it would remain so and I was cautious enough to wait in order to judge the level of passing foot traffic. After several seconds and with no sign of anyone – Dark Elf, goblin or even house spider – I reshaped my hand and nudged open the window. Then, like smoke, I slid inside.
I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting – perhaps an alarm or a battalion of goblins with swinging swords to round the corner – but nothing changed. The brightly lit hallway remained silent and the only patch of darkness in it was me. I had to get to somewhere even darker fast.
With more speed than I’d achieved so far, I sped towards the closed door at the far end of the hallway. In one fluid movement, I threw myself down and slid under the gap at the bottom.
Fortunately the room was unoccupied; even better, it was both windowless and dark. There wasn’t so much as a single flickering candle, so I could look around with ease. When in shadow form like this, I can see just as well in darkness as my physical body can see in bright sunlight.
If I’d been hoping to find a handy sheet of paper explaining who the Dark Elf was and why he was here, I was sadly disappointed. There was nothing apart from old boxes and towering bundles of old clothes. Even the abandoned fireplace with its faint dusting of soot seemed to sigh in despair. Perhaps I’d stumbled across the goblins’ dress-up room, which was only used in happier times. I smiled at the thought of some of the stouter and swarthier Filits swinging feather boas and wearing pretty diamond tiaras then I flitted to other door at right-hand side. A chink of light was just visible from underneath it. By the looks of things it was another hallway and, just as before, there didn’t appear to be anyone wandering down it.
I pushed through the tiny gap underneath the door and emerged at the other side. This corridor was as brightly illuminated as the previous one but the stone floor boasted a less shabby rug, indicating that it was used more frequently. There were more doors leading off it, several of which were open. The clatter and murmur of voices could be heard from further down and the risk I was putting myself into increased exponentially.
I edged my way forward more slowly. There were some alcoves where I could hide if needs be; I paused at each one in case someone suddenly appeared. My luck was holding. I could do this.
I was about halfway along when one of the doors ahead of me suddenly swung open and two goblins appeared. Barely registering one male and one female form, I flung myself backwards, darting into the nearest recess and narrowly avoiding knocking over an ugly vase on a pedestal. There were no shouts or gasps so I’d obviously avoided detection. Praying that they’d choose to walk in the other direction, I made my shadow as small as possible, merging into the shadow cast by the pedestal and vase.
It was just as well that I did; the goblins’ voices grew louder as they walked towards me. The silhouette I’d created wasn’t perfect – the other shadows I’d joined myself with were too angular for that. If the goblins stared long enough, they’d realise that something was wrong. I reminded myself that the chances of that happening were miniscule; unless this pair was literally jumping at shadows, I’d probably be alright.
‘I don’t see what gives him the right,’ muttered the female goblin. ‘Striding around as if he owns the place. We should have told him to fuck off from the outset.’
‘It’s only for a day or two longer,’ her companion soothed. ‘And we needed to placate the Prime Minister. Ghrashbreg said that the Scottish government was becoming quite insistent that we do more to end the siege.’
There was a loud, nasal snort that sounded similar to my plumbing when the pipes were nearly empty. ‘James has no jurisdiction over Stirling. He can’t do a thing.’
‘Don’t be naïve. You know very well that there’s plenty he can do to make our lives miserable. The sanctions—’
‘Screw the sanctions. When we find the Stone, I’ll bloody well sanction him. Then he can see how he likes it.’
‘Azra…’ There was exasperation in the male goblin’s voice as they drew level with my hidey-hole. I tensed. From his tone, this was a conversation they’d had several times before. Well, thank you very much for having it again, I thought sardonically, as I stayed still and hoped they wouldn’t glance at the oddly shaped shadow. I’d learnt a great deal already.
In less than two heartbeats, both goblins strolled past. I relaxed infinitesimally whilst they continued to talk.
‘I get the impression you’d much rather screw him than screw the sanctions.’
‘He’s a good-looking guy for an elf. It doesn’t mean that I don’t wish he were long gone.’
‘A good-looking guy for an elf? How many elves have you met? And Dark Elves at that?’
‘He’s the only one. It’s not like there’s many of them around to meet.’
‘True,’ the male acknowledged. ‘Should I be jealous? He’s on his way to have dinner right now. I’m sure he’d love to have you join him. You could serve yourself up on a platter. Stick an apple in your mouth or something.’
There was another loud snort. ‘Only if it’s a poisoned apple for him to munch on.’
‘It would be in your mouth first,’ her companion pointed out. Apparently she wasn’t the brightest goblin in the horde.
The pair of them went into a room and their voices faded away. I straightened up. It didn’t take a genius to know who’d they’d been moaning about. And if the Dark Elf was the topic of conversation, it was probably because they’d just seen him. All I had to do was head in the direction they’d come from and I’d find my quarry.
It sounded like the Dark Elf was here at the Prime Minister’s insistence and that he was making a token effort to try and end the siege. It had already been going on for too long, though; if the government really wanted to stop it they would have done so by now. As the citizens of Stirling well knew, myself included, our hungry stomachs wouldn’t be filled with empty promises, regardless of who made them.
I waited a few moments, extricated my shadow and flickered back out, darting down the corridor into the open doorway that the goblins had just vacated.
The room was empty but it was in a better state than the last one I’d been in. For one thing, it wasn’t covered in jumble; for another, a table with empty dishes displayed the remnants of someone’s dinner. Three someone’s dinners, in fact. I stared briefly at the discarded chicken bones and the scraps of delectable white meat clinging to the drumsticks. Chicken. Real chicken.
My corporeal body back in my flat might have been inert but that didn’t mean my mouth wasn’t watering. Forget the boy’s tiny tomatoes, here was some real food – and lots of it. I shook my head and wished that my shadow form had the ability to eat. Then I stopped gaping and focused. Drooling wasn’t on today’s agenda.
I headed for the next door. There were voices coming from behind it. I pressed myself up close then the door opened, revealing the figure of a goblin ready to depart and a table with three seated figures. One of those was unmistakably a Dark Elf.
Amazed by the speed with which I’d located him, I quickly scoped the room and spotted the darkest place next to an impressive bureau. While the goblin shifted his weight and prepared to turn towards me, I kept an eye on the others and waited for their attention to move away. This was the dangerous part. I had to get into that safe spot without drawing any attention. Deep breath.
Only one of the three men enjoying the feast was a goblin. My eyes narrowed. This one I knew of, although o
nly by reputation. Ghrashbreg was a particularly depraved creature. I’d seen the results of his handiwork carved into the skin of some of my fellow citizens; he enjoyed leaving his mark on those he tortured. In older times the goblins would have sent someone like Ghrashbreg far away from here where he would do less damage, but under these siege conditions he’d proved useful. Officially he was routing Gneiss infiltrators and sympathisers but in practice he was just a mean bastard with a taste for blood. If this Dark Elf was fraternizing with Ghrashbreg, there was not so much hope that he was here to do us any good.
‘Would you like some cake and coffee?’ Ghrashbreg enquired with what was supposed to be a solicitous smile. ‘We have the most delectable chocolate confection which I’m sure you’ll both enjoy.’
Chocolate cake? I thought of the meagre squares I’d allowed myself before leaving home. The bloody goblins were eating entire cakes of the stuff! Unbelievable.
Ghrashbreg gestured towards the goblin who was shielding me from sight. I darted into the room, using the shadow of the door to keep my form hidden. I twisted round while the goblin marched away to get the cake and maintained both a vantage point and an entry point into the room. Careful now, I warned myself. Don’t mess this up.
Facing away from me, the Dark Elf spoke, his voice accented with a soft Scottish brogue but his tone edged with steel. ‘I don’t want chocolate cake.’ He stood up. ‘I’m going out.’
Trouble in Paradise? I held my breath and waited for the precise moment I needed. Ghrashbreg fixed his gaze on the Dark Elf and the Dark Elf and his companion, whoever he was, returned the look. This testosterone-fuelled stand off was exactly what I wanted.
As they glared at each other, I tumbled to my right until I reached the bureau’s dark spot. I whipped round. None of the men had moved or altered their expressions. My shoulders sagged – I’d made it. Now I needed them to tell me what Marrock wanted to know.
‘Out? Goodness me. I presume you are heading back to Kanji. Perhaps a lady took your fancy there after all.’ Ghrashbreg gazed up at the Dark Elf with an amused expression on his face. Anyone else would have taken this as fair warning to back off but the Elf held his ground.
Now that I could see his face clearly for the first time, I scanned his features with interest as he oh-so-casually replied to the goblin, ‘No, not there. I think a stroll in the other direction is in order. I’d like to see more of the city.’
I could see why they were called Dark Elves. Everything about this man was dark: the warning note in his voice; his flawless complexion, and his glittering eyes. Even the way he held himself suggested menace as he towered over Ghrashbreg. The goblin might not look intimidated but I reckoned he was saving face by staying in his seat. If he stood up and faced the Elf, this would turn from a mild conversation into a stand off. Literally. And the power rippling from the Elf made it clear who would win, even with Ghrashbreg on home ground.
I looked at the other man; he was still sitting down but looking anxious. He was human, with kindly features and greying hair. Judging by the way he was twisting the napkin underneath the table, he knew as well as I did how badly this could go. How very, very interesting.
‘That’s not wise,’ Ghrashbreg said.
‘I wasn’t asking for your opinion but I appreciate your concern.’
I shivered, wondering if I was about to witness the moment the Elves finally turned on the goblins. History in the making – and all over an evening stroll.
‘Sit down and have some cake.’
A ghost of a smile crossed the Dark Elf’s lips. ‘Thank you but no.’ He turned and started to walk away while his human companion got clumsily to his feet and stumbled after him.
Ghrashbreg cleared his throat. ‘I know what you’re capable of, Lord Gabriel,’ he called out.
Gabriel. There were less than fifty Dark Elves in the whole of Scotland and there was only one Gabriel that I’d heard of. My blood chilled. Ghrashbreg wasn’t the only one in this room with a reputation.
‘Then,’ Gabriel de Florinville murmured, ‘you know I can look after myself. I will be in no danger on those streets. And I’m no Lord.’
‘No,’ the goblin returned. ‘But you are one of fewer than fifty Dark Elves who reside in Scotland. Don’t overestimate your powers. You don’t know Stirling.’
‘I know enough.’
There was nothing to suggest the Elf was boasting but Ghrashbreg wasn’t wrong either. If de Florinville ventured out on the streets on his own, he might be approached by idiots who thought they could take him on. Even if they recognised him as a Dark Elf, there would be those who would want the challenge. There were also people who were hungry enough and desperate enough to try their luck, regardless of the odds.
I wondered idly what the ransom for Gabriel de Florinville would be; certainly enough to buy a way out of Stirling for every person I knew. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that I could take him on. Even Marrock, on a good day and with a full belly, would be lucky to land a single punch against a Dark Elf. When that Dark Elf was de Florinville … well, let’s just say it would be a one-sided fight.
Two goblin guards, whose bulging muscles suggested they’d been overdoing the steroids, appeared in the doorway. The servant who’d left had brought beefcake as well as chocolate cake. Each guard was carrying a long curved sword as if they were both preparing to slice and dice the Elf. They actually looked eager, as if they were hoping they’d receive the order. I almost hoped they would too.
‘Are you threatening an Envoy of the Realm?’ de Florinville asked.
Ghrashbreg arched a bushy eyebrow. ‘We allowed you to come here. We have been gracious hosts who have met your needs and answered your questions. At your bidding, we have even made several concessions towards the Gneiss goblins. Given all that, why would you want to risk a diplomatic incident over an evening stroll?’
‘Am I a prisoner here?’
I didn’t move. Unless one of these two backed down, it seemed certain that blood would be spilled. There was no logical conclusion that suggested any benefit for Stirling. If that bloody Elf really was here as the Prime Minister’s envoy and he got himself hurt – or killed – we’d all be dead within the week. If Ghrashbreg died at the Elf’s hand then we could probably expect the same end. Brilliant. At least my presence meant I had fair warning of the city’s impending doom.
Ghrashbreg laughed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. It grates though, doesn’t it? You’ve only been here a few days and you already feel the weight of being trapped within the city walls. Imagine how we feel after three years. It’s not Filits who are the enemy. We are as innocent of wrongdoing as you are. We’re simply trying to keep a hold of what is ours.’
I stared at the goblin. What an arse. The weight of being trapped? Innocent of wrongdoing? He should try living on my side of the city. My hands curved into tight fists and suddenly I was prepared to cheer Gabriel de Florinville on. I was even tempted to help him.
Then I noticed the way Ghrashbreg’s hands were grabbing the arms of his chair and a tiny muscle pulsating above his wiry eyebrow. The goblin was quivering – but not in fear. It was something else – he was excited about something. I thought back, recalling his words. Excited about what, though?
‘If you’re really so desperate to see the less salubrious parts of Stirling,’ Ghrashbreg continued, ‘then you are welcome to visit them. But let us arrange a small escort for you. If any harm were to come to you, Holyrood would not be pleased. We wish to avoid the Prime Minister’s displeasure. In fact, if you can be patient and wait until tomorrow night, I will come with you.’
De Florinville’s head tilted, a single dark curl falling across his forehead. This was no artful or coquettish tease though; his eyes were as hard as black ice. ‘I don’t want a guided tour. I want to see the city for myself.’
‘Then you can lead the way and we will merely follow.’ Ghrashbreg paused. ‘But please, give us time to do what we can to guarantee your safety.’
&nb
sp; De Florinville’s expression was inscrutable. Whereas Ghrashbreg had a number of interesting tells, I hadn’t the foggiest idea what the Dark Elf was thinking.
When he nodded his head in agreement, I almost fell over in surprise. Just like that, the tension in the room dissipated. I shook my head in amazement. Half a beat ago it had seemed that we were a hair’s breadth away from all-out war because Gabriel de Florinville wanted to play tourist and Ghrashbreg was determined to stop him. Now it appeared we were all friends again.
The goblin stood up. ‘Excellent. In that case, I’ll leave you two to enjoy the cake on your own. I’ll take my leave so I can make the necessary arrangements.’ He bowed once. He could afford to; he’d managed to get the Dark Elf to back down.
‘Well,’ the human said ‘so much for our temporary escape.’ He didn’t sound particularly impressed. ‘You let him stop you. Why are you so happy about it?’
I looked at the Elf. He was right; de Florinville was grinning like a schoolboy. ‘Because Ghrashbreg isn’t quite as clever as he thinks. When he said they were only trying to keep a hold of what was theirs, his left hand gave him away. He was holding onto the chair of that arm so tightly it’s a wonder it didn’t snap off. It wasn’t just proprietary concern over the city, it was excitement.’
Huh. He’d been paying attention. That was as interesting to know as it was dangerous to realise. This Dark Elf didn’t only rely on his internal power and strength, he used intelligence too. I was impressed.
‘Excitement? What on earth could he be excited about? Are you sure you didn’t read him wrongly?’
I leaned forward, curious to see if de Florinville could provide an answer. In the nick of time, however, I realised that my shoulder was jutting out and casting an odd shape onto the floor. I yanked myself back then, heart rate fluttering faster, glanced up. Thank goodness. It had barely been a second and neither the Dark Elf nor his companion had reacted. That was close, I scolded myself. This was not the time to start getting reckless.