Verity resisted the urge to turn round, even though her skin was crawling. There’s nothing there, she told herself, he’s winding you up.
‘Look,’ said Othman.
‘I don’t want to.’
‘Running away again? Turning your back?’ Othman laughed. ‘Don’t be a fool, Verity. Be a woman.’
Angrily, Verity spun round, directing a fierce glance at Othman in the process. She did not expect to see anything.
The face against the window was rotting, flaccid. Its filmed eyes stared in at her. She saw the mouth working upon the shape of her name. Uttering a cry of disgust, Verity put her hands against her eyes and turned away. She did not intend to turn into Othman’s arms, but he’d positioned himself accurately. He felt strong and reassuring. ‘Make it go!’ Verity said.
‘If you want me to, of course I will. Watch.’
Othman released her and went towards the door.
‘Don’t!’ Verity cried in horror as he turned the handle.
Othman glanced back at her. ‘Don’t worry. Just come and watch.’
He went out into garden, where a writhing shadow crouched against the wall of the house. Verity peered nervously round the door. She saw Othman pick something up, like a bunch of tattered rags. He uttered some strange, unintelligible words and flung his burden up into sky, where it broke up into smoky ribbons and dispersed. Othman turned to her with a smile, rubbing his hands together.
‘There. All gone. Now, how about a nice strong cup of coffee?’
Verity could only stare numbly at the place in the sky where her demon had evaporated. Othman gathered her up and drew her into the kitchen with him. He kissed her cheek. ‘Don’t worry, Verity. We’re friends now. I want to talk to you about your brother.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Monday, 26th October: London
It was a Grigori hotel. Aninka heard breathing in the walls. There was nowhere to check in.
When they arrived, the night outside was wet and cold, steam in the air from the Chinese restaurants that lined the narrow street. Lahash had a card which, when inserted into a brass slot beside the door, and a certain sequence was tapped in on the keypad beneath it, gained access to the building. The door opened electronically.
Inside, it was like walking into someone’s hall, a private house. There were flowers, gloves on a table, carelessly tangled with a dog’s lead of plaited leather and stainless steel. Letters lay in a pile on the same table; some were opened.
‘Well!’ said Aninka.
Lahash opened a door off the hall, looked into the room beyond. Taziel Levantine remained by the front door, now locked and sealed again, and lit a cigarette. He wore shades and looked seedy, thin like a drug addict, well-handled like a whore. So far, he had ignored Aninka almost completely. Back at High Crag House, he had got into the front passenger seat of the car beside Lahash, forcing Aninka to sit alone behind them. The back of the car was as big as a railway carriage. She had rattled around in it uncomfortably. The upholstery was cream leather. She’d heard Taziel talking softly to Lahash, a murmur beneath some late night music wafting from the radio. Occasionally, one of them had laughed. Was it to be like this now? The two men as allies? She would have to change things.
‘What is this place?’ Aninka asked. ‘It’s not a hotel, is it?’
Lahash came back into the hall. ‘It’s late,’ he said. ‘Someone will be along soon.’
Aninka sat down on a chair beside the hall table and clawed through the contents of her shoulder bag to find her cigarettes. Lahash, ever gallant, held out a light to her. She took it.
‘Where are we?’ She put tired cynicism into her voice.
Lahash pocketed his lighter. He himself never smoked. ‘It’s a boarding house. Exclusive.’
Aninka sighed, exhaled smoke. ‘So where is everybody? I don’t want to sit here all night. Go and find them.’
Lahash raised an eyebrow at her, but went off to investigate other areas of the building. He walked down a corridor beside the stairs. Taziel came over to the table and began looking through the letters. Aninka couldn’t think of anything to say to him. She had no idea how he felt about Othman, and knew he would not tell her if she asked. Perhaps he was jealous of her, or else despised her. It really didn’t matter what he felt, she thought.
She flicked ash onto the red carpet. ‘This is ridiculous!’
Taziel was silent. He’d spent some time alone with Enniel before they’d left the house down south. Perhaps Enniel had scolded him, and his musician’s pride couldn’t take it.
Lahash appeared again, accompanied by a woman. She was Grigori, dressed in a long green caftan, her dark hair wound up on her head, tendrils of it escaping artfully in places. Her Grigori beauty was tiring. Aninka had seen too much of it recently. She yearned for human asymmetry.
‘Good evening,’ said the woman. It sounded as if she was speaking through silk. ‘I hope you’ve had a pleasant journey. Allow me to show you to your suite.’
She preceded them up the stairs, her hips swaying a little drunkenly, Aninka thought.
On the second floor, the hostess produced a key card from her pocket and inserted it into the door. Inside the room, soft lighting glowed ready for their entrance. Champagne in a bucket beside the sofa; Japanese cabinets, midnight drapes, a Turkish rug.
‘Champagne?’ Aninka tried to sound quizzical. ‘This is not a honeymoon!’
The woman ignored her remark. ‘Would you like something to eat? The kitchen is open twenty four hours.’
‘I would like lobster,’ Aninka said. She noticed Taziel smirk.
The woman hesitated. ‘Of course.’
‘On a baguette, with salad.’
‘For all of us,’ Lahash added.
‘And coffee,’ Aninka said. ‘Viennese, with black sugar.’
The woman inclined her head, and left the room. She appeared faintly amused.
Aninka poured herself some champagne into one of the exquisite glasses standing on a filigreed tray next to the ice bucket. The stem was a twisted serpent of indigo glass. She considered putting it into her bag before she left the place.
Lahash picked up a remote control and turned on the television. They sat in silence and watched a late night American media show, until the soft tap came at the door, signalling the arrival of their order. Aninka found she was hungry, as the aroma of rich coffee filled the room. The baguettes were accompanied by bowls of coleslaw and other assorted salads. Aninka kicked off her shoes. ‘I feel quite at home,’ she said.
‘It’s not real,’ Taziel said tersely. ‘None of this.’
‘You might as well relax,’ said Lahash.
Taziel uttered a muted snarl and scuffed across the room, to open one of the bedroom doors. He disappeared inside. Aninka rolled her eyes at Lahash, who grinned wryly. ‘Not a great conversationalist, is he!’ Aninka said.
Lahash shrugged, then took off his jacket. Beneath it, he wore a white dress shirt and a gun in a shoulder-holster. ‘Are we in a movie or something?’ Aninka asked. She laughed. ‘This is all too bizarre.’ The gun actually made her feel nervous. She wanted to ask Lahash to hide it, but felt it would only reveal her naiveté.
‘No, we are not in a movie,’ Lahash replied. ‘It’s all too real, no matter what our companion thinks.’
‘What is going on?’ Aninka hoped to draw him out.
Lahash sat down next to her on the sofa, but some distance away. ‘We just have to find Peverel Othman.’ He frowned. ‘And soon.’
‘Why? Why now?’
Lahash flicked her a glance like a serpent’s tongue, black and quick and wet in an otherwise dry countenance. He knew more than he would tell her. ‘He’s getting into mischief, isn’t he?’
Aninka stretched out on the sofa, admired the sweeping lines of her silk-clad legs, hoping Lahash would do the same. ‘I’m beginning to wonder whether I did the right thing, offering to help find him. It was an impulsive decision. Maybe I should just forget about th
e whole thing, put it behind me.’ She creased her brow. ‘I’m not sure I want to see Pev again.’
‘Nobody’s forcing you to come,’ Lahash said. ‘I’m sure Enniel wouldn’t mind if you backed out. Taziel, after all, is our most potent tool in this operation.’
Aninka smiled sourly. ‘What I haven’t mentioned is that my curiosity will be forever pricked if I don’t see what happens for myself. I know I won’t get any information from Enniel. No, however painful, I’ll see this through.’ She leaned out to refresh her glass, offered the bottle to Lahash. ‘Anyway, what is this link Taziel has with Pev? It sounds very... arcane.’
‘They had an association.’
‘Yes, I heard about that. Ended in tears, I believe.’
‘Among other things.’ Lahash drained his glass. ‘The bottle’s finished. Shall I order more?’
Aninka caught a note in his voice, a certain speculative gleam in his eyes. ‘Why not?’ she said.
Lahash picked up the phone, and after a few moments, spoke into it, a private whisper. Then he turned back to Aninka. She could see from his hair line, which was auburn, that he dyed his hair black. ‘Taziel’s been through a hard time. He escaped with his sanity, just, but it’s fragile. You must overlook his behaviour; he’s damaged.’
‘I heard he blinded someone, another musician. Triangle situation?’
Lahash didn’t bother to lower his voice, and Aninka wondered whether Taziel could hear them. ‘Yes, he blinded someone. He burned out their optic nerves.’
‘Great Shem!’ Aninka exclaimed, grimacing. ‘How did he do that?’
‘There was no weapon,’ Lahash said dryly, adding, ‘that was ever found.’
Aninka glanced at the closed door, behind which Taziel Levantine might be listening to them discussing his affairs. ‘He must have felt very strongly.’
‘We must suppose that,’ Lahash said.
There was another soft knock at the door, and Lahash got up to answer it, returning with a larger bottle of champagne than the one they had just finished. ‘I see you intend to make a night of this!’ Aninka said. It must already be about half past one in the morning. There were no clocks in the room.
‘Look on this as the lull before the storm,’ Lahash said, prising out the cork. It popped out and hissed sullenly, releasing a snaking steam. There was no froth, just the alchemical breath of the wine.
‘Do you think something... unpleasant will happen?’ Aninka held out her glass. She looked at Lahash’s long, manicured hand — a killer’s hand? — as he poured her a drink. The hairs on it were dark red and smooth, like a diminished pelt.
‘I think there will be some kind of event,’ he said, ‘but don’t worry, you won’t be in danger. That’s what I’m here for.’
Aninka laughed dryly. ‘I am reassured beyond measure. What kind of event?’
‘Obviously, most of the information I’ve been given is sensitive.’ Lahash sat down again, sipped his drink. ‘All I can tell you is that Othman is approaching a crisis. That is why the Parzupheim want him brought in.’
‘I thought you might kill him.’
Lahash grinned. ‘No. That would not be desirable.’
‘But perhaps expedient — in the event.’
Lahash shrugged. ‘I will, of course, protect you and Taziel. Don’t think that Enniel looks on you as disposable.’
‘This is all very sinister,’ Aninka said. ‘It’s like a boy’s game. I can’t understand it, or I don’t want to.’
Lahash smiled at her. ‘Sometimes we forget what we are. Perhaps you should think about that. We have assimilated ourselves with human culture, but destiny occasionally pokes us to remind us of our heritage, which is inescapable. We have responsibilities too, which we took upon ourselves in the beginning, and which we cannot shirk.’
‘Are you lecturing me?’ Aninka asked archly.
Lahash shook his head. ‘No, perhaps lecturing myself.’
‘But what has Othman to do with these things you’re talking about? Is it because he’s Anakim, a throwback?’
‘He is more than that, Ms Prussoe.’
‘Do we have to be that formal? My name’s Aninka. Also, I have not been given the privilege of knowing your second name.’
‘It is Murkaster,’ he told her.
Aninka opened her mouth to ask another question about Othman, but a cry from beyond Taziel’s closed door silenced her. It sounded like the screech of a bird of prey.
Lahash stood up quickly.
‘What was that?’ Aninka asked, also rising. ‘Is he all right?’
Lahash went to open the door, Aninka following. Fortunately, Taziel had not locked it. Light from the sitting room fell over the wide bed, where Taziel lay fully clothed. He was writhing in what looked like pain. Aninka turned on the overhead light, while Lahash hurried to the bed.
‘What’s the matter with him?’ Aninka asked, thinking of the lobster.
Lahash was leaning over Taziel. ‘He’s dreaming.’
‘Then wake him up! It must be a nightmare.’
Taziel’s faced was creased in agony, and gleaming with sweat. There were marks, like scratches, on his neck and the upper part of his chest revealed by his open shirt. There was a smell in the room, salt and sear, perhaps the smell of terror.
‘Wake him up!’ Aninka repeated. She had become conscious of a watching presence in the room, a silence wrapped around the core of movement and energy that was Taziel Levantine. She could feel something cold and damp, and utterly beyond physical form, touching her mind.
Lahash did not touch Taziel. ‘Taz,’ he said. ‘Taz, can you hear me?’
Aninka said, ‘What’s the matter with him?’
Lahash frowned, shook his head.
‘Guardian!’ Taziel wheezed. ‘In the house.’
‘Where?’ Lahash demanded.
Taziel’s body squirmed across the bed. ‘Grigori stronghold. Closed up.’
‘What’s happening?’ Aninka asked.
Lahash shrugged. ‘He could have pinpointed Othman’s location, and encountered some kind of guardian, perhaps a protection Othman’s conjured up. Whatever it is, it doesn’t look as if it’s going to let Taziel past.’
Taziel uttered a wordless sound, a plea. The temperature in the room was falling. Soon, their breath would be steaming.
Aninka moved closer to Lahash. ‘Can’t you stop this?’
Lahash ignored her. ‘Taz, you are in control. I have surrounded you in light. You are safe. Speak!’
‘Hot,’ Taziel said. He had calmed down a little, although his eyes were screwed up tight. ‘It’s so hot.’
‘What is?’ Lahash sat on the edge of the bed.
‘The heat is around him, it reaches up to the sky, condensing. His epiphany conjures the heat, and it is close, very close.’ Taziel suddenly opened his eyes, although he did not seem to see the room or his companions. He sat up, rigid, on the bed. ‘Moorland, heat. He is making heat. He has returned to Eden. In the north.’
Suddenly Taziel’s back arched and his body emitted a piercing howl. He began to claw at his chest and throat. ‘No! No!’
Lahash grabbed Taziel’s arms, pushed him back down onto the bed, where he kicked and struggled as if being attacked by an unseen assailant.
Lahash shouted out ‘Aeshma Vohumana, Dregvant Masha, Yazatas, Daeva, Spenta Mainyu!’
Beside him, Aninka felt compelled to repeat the invocation in English, ‘Through the wrath of Mazda’s will, wicked magic, depart from this body. In the name of the adorable ones, and the spirits of fire and good will.’
Abruptly, Taziel’s body relaxed, and he uttered a long, hissing sigh. Aninka, who’d been frozen in horror and disbelief, realised the temperature in the room had returned to normal. Taziel opened his eyes, and blinked up at Lahash. ‘He is in the north,’ he said. ‘But we knew that, didn’t we?’
Lahash nodded. ‘Yes. Can you be precise?’
Taziel frowned. ‘I shall have to concentrate, but not yet. The
name Eden is prominent. It is a vital clue, I think.’ He shook his head. ‘It is clear, but unclear. I’m too subjective. Othman has been drawn towards a power source. That too is inevitable. What power sources are there in the north we might not know about?’
Aninka was astounded at how quickly he appeared to regained his composure. His chest was still scored with long red weals.
‘There are none — that we don’t know about. But there is one that has been — shall we say corked?’ Lahash smiled, without humour. ‘It is ironic, but perhaps no coincidence I should be involved in this. There is a place called Long Eden in the north, the site of my ancestral home. My family were exiled from it twenty years ago, for transgressions. Our community service, to atone for our delinquencies, include my employment with the Parzupheim. I am bound to them for a millennium.’ His smile became grim. ‘It will be there. I know it.’
Taziel reached up and took one of Lahash’ hands in his own. ‘I’m sorry.’
Lahash shrugged. ‘It’s only pertinent.’ He smiled. ‘Well, I have been prevented from seeing my home, and I had expected that by the time I had paid my penalty, Long Eden would be dust. In some ways, it will be good to see it again.’
‘I could use a drink,’ Taziel said. He lay back on the bed, still holding Lahash’s hand. ‘I need to talk.’
‘We have plenty of champagne,’ Lahash answered, and went back into the sitting room. Aninka was left staring at Taziel. She realised, with some amusement, that there would be competition over with whom Lahash would be spending the rest of the night. Well, she had no intention of spending it alone. Pointedly, she sat down on the bed.
‘Are you OK?’
She was waiting for Taziel’s expression to become closed and sour, but he seemed resigned to her presence.
‘Yes.’ He smiled weakly, then pressed the fingers of one hand over his eyes. ‘This sort of thing has been happening more often recently. I was angry at Enniel calling me in to get involved in this, but now I know it was the right thing. I’d have gone mad, otherwise. This thing has to be finished once and for all.’