Drinking Midnight Wine

  Listen to me, the Brother said stubbornly. There are others in there with you, powerful presences. Not Hob or Angel.

  “Oh shit,” said Leo. “It’s going wrong already, isn’t it? Maybe we should come back later?”

  Too late.

  Suddenly a whole gang of mice came charging out of the fog, racing around and past Luna and Leo, laughing and whooping. Dead men came stumbling determinedly after them and the Mice chased and pestered them mercilessly, taking turns to see who could get the closest to the grasping dead hands and still escape untouched. The dead stubbornly pursued the Mice, who led them off into the wood again until all of them were gone, swallowed by the fog. The last Mouse to go was Sweetie, who paused just long enough to drop Leo a saucy wink.

  “Friend of yours?” said Luna.

  Oh, tell me you didn’t… said his Brother.

  “Today just keeps getting worse and worse,” said Leo.

  That was when the dead hands burst up and out of the ash-covered ground all around them, grasping blindly for Luna and Leo’s ankles: dead men and women, buried in the dead ground, hidden from view as another line of defence. Cold fingers dug deep into Leo’s ankles and feet, tearing the skin and crushing flesh and bone with horrid, implacable strength. Leo yelled, from shock as much as pain, and tried to change, but the pain distracted his thinking, preventing him from concentrating. He fought to keep his balance, knowing that if he fell, the rotting hands protruding from the ashes, opening and closing like bear-traps, would tear him apart in moments.

  But where the hands touched Luna’s cold armour they recoiled in a moment, seared and twisted, as though blasted by some unseen force. They could not bear the touch of her. Luna glared about her, and wherever she looked the hands sank quickly back into the broken ground, driven away by the awful power of her will. Some of the more slowly retreating hands actually withered under the pressure of her gaze, and fell apart. The ground itself rippled and roiled as the hidden dead tried to dig themselves deeper into the earth, to get away from her. It took Leo a moment to realise that his ankles were free too, now that she’d looked in his direction, and he quickly knelt down to press his tattered ankles together with his hands, to speed up the healing. And so he wouldn’t have to look at Luna, and perhaps meet her terrible gaze.

  “That was Hob,” Luna said calmly. “My son, working through the dead. Now he knows I’m here. Good. I want him to know. And to worry.”

  In another part of the dead wood, Toby and Gayle and Jimmy stood together, watching a bright golden gleaming will-o’-the-wisp, as it danced in the mists ahead of them. It was drawing steadily closer, a golden glow bobbing on the air like an unblinking flame. Then suddenly there were two of them, moving paired together, racing forward through the fog. Jimmy hefted his great hammer Mjolnir, and braced himself. The golden glowing things became the two golden eyes of a huge dark cat, stalking out of the mists towards them, overpoweringly huge and menacing. It stood easily five foot tall at the shoulder, and was perhaps ten foot long. Thick cords of muscle bulged under the night-dark hide, but for all its size it wasn’t a panther or a puma or a leopard, or any known species. Instead, it was somehow all cats and none, every kind of cat rolled into one and grown to an impossible size. The abstract, perfect, primal Cat. The ground shook under its tread, as though afraid. It came to a halt disturbingly close to Gayle and Toby and Jimmy and looked at them with calculated insolence.

  “Well, hello,” said the Cat, in a slow, self-satisfied drawl that Toby immediately knew was how all cats would sound if they could talk. “You really shouldn’t be here, you know. This is a dangerous place, for the uninvited.”

  “Do you know who I am?” said Gayle, her voice perfectly calm and steady.

  “You, Lady? Always. I would bow my head to you, in other places. But this place belongs to another, and so I do not bow to you. Soon, everywhere that is will be taken from you, and then I will bow to you no more, Lady.”

  “Can we cut to the chase, please?” said Jimmy, in his best commanding, godlike voice. “I haven’t got the time or the patience for the usual veiled threats and insinuations. Who the hell are you?”

  “So swift, so uncourteous,” said the Cat. “You would take all the fun out of it, little god. Your ancestors understood the need for civilised banter; a crossing of wits before the slaughter. It is expected of us, as symbols and avatars. But style is going out of the world, along with so many other things. I am the King of the Cats. And the Hob has bound me to him with promises of free reign in the world that is to come, the world that he will bring about. No more pets, no more zoos or sanctuaries. All mankind will be my prey, or all of Humanity that survives the transition. My prey, to run naked and squealing before me, to hunt and kill at my pleasure. Such fun. And all I have to do to earn that joy is to kill fools like you, who intrude where they’re not wanted.”

  “You know who I am, and dare to challenge me?” said Jimmy, as calm and collected as the Cat.

  “Oh yes,” said the King of the Cats. “Such a pleasure, to have such notable victims to rend and tear; such godly blood to lick from my claws. I’m going to enjoy running you down, and hear you plead for your little lives. The diluted god, the diminished Lady and the tiny mortal. You will run for me, won’t you? Who knows; I might not chase all of you.”

  “Shove it,” said Jimmy Thunder, hefting his hammer in his hand.

  The Cat looked at Mjolnir thoughtfully, his great muscles rippling under his fur. He didn’t look especially impressed. If anything, he seemed to be smiling. And then Toby stepped forward, putting himself between Gayle and the Cat.

  “So,” he said brightly. “How did you get to be King of the Cats?”

  “What?” said the Cat, not looking away from Jimmy Thunder. His tail was lashing slowly behind him. He might have been starting to crouch.

  “How did you get to be the King?” said Toby. “Start at the bottom and work your way up? Perform marvellous feats of bravery and derring-do? Or is it a purely constitutional title these days, with no real power and responsibility?”

  “What?” said the Cat, turning his glowing golden eyes on Toby. “What kind of questions are these? I just … knew. When the old King died, I became the King; ruler of all the cats, in all the worlds.”

  “And that’s it?” said Toby. “No examinations, no discussions, not even a ceremony? You just think you’re the King? Hardly seems likely, does it? I don’t know about this. You could be wrong, you know. Have you checked? How do you know there aren’t other contenders for the Kingship? Some of them might actually be better qualified than you. And isn’t the idea of an absolute monarchy dangerously outdated, in this day and age? Perhaps you’d be better off with a committee, or some form of proportional representation. What are your qualifications to be King?”

  “What?” said the Cat, actually backing away as Toby advanced on him. “The … the Voice told me the old King was dead, so I was King. That’s how it works!”

  “Ah,” said Toby, nodding interestedly. “Now we’re getting somewhere. How long have you been hearing voices?”

  The Cat screamed, turned abruptly and ran off into the fog.

  “How about that?” said Jimmy, lowering his hammer. “He ran away, rather than have to listen to you any more. Mind you, I often feel the same way.”

  The King of the Cats didn’t get far before he ran into Luna and Leo. Still screaming, the Cat took one look at Luna standing tall and imposing in her silver armour and skidded to a halt, his fur standing on end. Leo turned wolf in a flash, and threw himself on the Cat. He’d been looking for someone to take out his grievances on all day. They hit the ground in a cloud of ashes, a hissing, growling mess of teeth and claws and bad temper, tearing savagely at each other. But the Cat was outweighed, outclassed, not to mention already severely demoralised, and besides, Leo could heal all his wounds in a second. Soon the Cat was fighting only to break away and run. Leo pounced, snapping his great wolf jaws shut on the nape of the Cat’s neck. He to
ok a firm grip, braced himself and shook the huge Cat violently back and forth, ignoring his pitiful howls. Leo then dropped the Cat, bit him fiercely on the arse and chased him up the nearest tree. Leo sat at the base of the tree, his long red tongue lolling out of the side of his grinning mouth as he peered up, while the Cat clung precariously to the highest branch that would still bear his weight.

  Luna came over to stand beside Leo, and stared haughtily up at the treed Cat. “Bad kitty. No more sour cream for you.”

  “Oh God, she’s going to start talking to me now,” said the Cat. “I think I’m going to have one of my turns.”

  “A cat may look at a Queen, but even the King of the Cats should know better than to annoy me,” said Luna. “Now come down here and apologise, before I think of something amusing to do to you.”

  “I am not coming down while that hairy thing with the thyroid problem is still down there!” said the Cat, trying to hang on to the last vestiges of his dignity. “Your Majesty,” he added, as an afterthought.

  “I could go up there and fetch him for you,” growled Leo. “In fact, I could chew him up and spit him out again, and make you a nice pair of slippers out of his hide. If you like.”

  “I don’t really think we’ve got time,” said Gayle, behind them. “Besides; they’d clash terribly with that armour.”

  Luna and Leo looked round sharply as Toby and Jimmy and Gayle came out of the fog to join them, drawn by the noise of the conflict. Up in the dead tree, the King of the Cats cringed pitifully.

  “Please don’t let him start talking again! I can’t stand it! My head hurts …”

  Everyone ignored the Cat as the two sisters stared at each other thoughtfully and Toby and Jimmy looked interestedly at the werewolf.

  “Thunder god,” said Jimmy. “Jimmy Thunder, God For Hire.”

  “Focal point,” said Toby. “Toby Dexter, very confused.”

  “Werewolf,” said Leo. “But I think you already guessed that. Hang on while I change into someone less comfortable.” He rose up on his hind legs, and quickly became human again. He was actually glad of the excuse. The dead wood was too overpowering and upsetting for his enhanced wolf senses. Toby blinked a few times as he tried to work out where Leo’s clothes had suddenly appeared from, but was otherwise suitably impressed. Leo gave Toby and Jimmy his best friendly smile. “Leo Morn, acting hero, unpaid, under protest. Is that really Gayle?”

  “Yes,” said Jimmy. “Do I take it you’re on your way to see Hob too?”

  “Much against my better judgement, but yes. Luna said I was going with her, and you can’t argue with facts like that. I’m here to look after her, watch her back, remember who she is for her, that sort of thing. Of course now you’re here, I’m sure you could take care of all that better than I ever could, so I’m not really needed here any more, am I? In fact, I’d probably just get in your way. So I’ll just say Good Luck, and Godspeed, and be sure to let me know how it all turns out …”

  “Stand still, that wolf,” said Luna, still looking at Gayle. “You’re not going anywhere, Leo Morn.”

  “Oh bugger,” said Leo miserably.

  The two sisters were still staring into each other’s eyes. Neither of them seemed all that pleased to see the other.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” said Luna. “Not here, of all places.”

  “I could say exactly the same to you,” said Gayle. “I can’t protect you here.”

  “I have the better right,” said Luna. “He is my son, after all.”

  “He’s the Serpent’s Son. When have you ever cared about him, Luna? You didn’t even want to see him after he was born. I had to take him away.”

  “Yes,” said Luna. “And we all know how that turned out.”

  “All right, I screwed up. Fostering him with the Green Man probably wasn’t the wisest decision I ever made. But I couldn’t just kill him. He won’t listen to you, Luna. Why should he? You’ve never spoken to him before.”

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Luna maintained stubbornly. “This is a dead place. You have no power here. It’s outside your nature.”

  Gayle smiled slightly. “Looks like we’re both just following our natures. We’re here because we feel we have to be. Duty can be a real bastard sometimes. How are you feeling, Luna?”

  “Surprisingly coherent, for a change. I find anger concentrates the mind wonderfully. So, we’re off to see the Hob. Do you have a plan?”

  “Do you?”

  “I thought not.” Luna looked at Toby interestedly. “You always did have lousy taste in lovers. A focal point! Well, that should complicate things marvellously.”

  “Excuse me,” said the King of the Cats diffidently, still up his tree. “Would anyone object if I were to come down now, and perhaps run away? I’d really like to run away, if that’s all right with everyone. There are far too many powers and avatars in one place for my liking. It can only mean that something dreadfully important and significant is about to happen, and I would personally prefer to be incredibly far away when the shit starts hitting the fan.”

  “Be quiet,” said Gayle. “Or I’ll let Toby talk to you some more.”

  “Shutting up right now,” said the Cat.

  And that was when a whole crowd of Mice suddenly came running out of the fog, streaming past the startled group at the foot of the tree without stopping. All twenty-three Mice stampeded past Toby in full flight, not even pausing as he called out to them, their purpose forgotten and abandoned as they headed for the Blackacre boundary with all the speed they could muster. The fog swirled thickly about them, disturbed by their passing. There was no sign of any of the dead, left behind as they ran.

  For behind them came Angel.

  She came striding out of the fog, walking on the air, as silent as a ghost, as remorseless as revenge. She advanced unhurriedly on the group by the tree, who closed their ranks instinctively, ready for trouble. Angel came to a halt before them, hovering some ten feet above the ground: flesh white as winter, wrapped in black tatters, with blood-red lips and eyes. Even standing still in mid-air, the fog around her was disturbed, as though by the slow flapping of unseen wings. She smiled down on them, and that smile was a terrible thing to see. Leo was whining softly. Toby felt like doing the same. Gayle and Luna stood shoulder to shoulder, glaring at Angel with cold, implacable faces. But Angel’s attention was all for Jimmy Thunder.

  “I knew if I waited long enough, you would come to me,” she said happily. “You, at least, know how to show a girl a good time. Not that I expect this to last long. We’re both far from our beginnings, but here in Mysterie I am more than you’ll ever be. So how about it? Want to dance, little godling? Want to bleed and suffer and die? I almost envy you the sensations you’re about to endure.”

  Jimmy Thunder threw Mjolnir at her. The ancient hammer flashed through the fog, too fast for mortal eye to follow, and struck Angel squarely in the gut, folding her over and knocking her out of the air. She dropped to the ashy ground like a wounded bird, making horrid noises as her crushed lungs strained for air, but though Mjolnir struggled to return to Jimmy, she clung grimly to the hammer, refusing to let it go. Jimmy ran forward to take it from her, and she rose up like a demon from the pit to face him.

  Luna looked at Leo. “Help the thunder god. Destroy the angel.”

  Leo looked back at her. “Are you kidding?”

  Don’t you listen to her, said his Brother. You wouldn’t stand a chance, Leo.

  “I had worked that out for myself, actually,” replied Leo. “Sorry, Luna. Scary as you undoubtedly are, Angel is a whole different class of homicidal maniac.”

  “But you’re a Morn!”

  “And I’d very much like to stay one, rather than become a small pile of meaty chunks after they’ve passed through Angel’s digestive system. I know my limitations.”

  “You get in there and help the thunder god or I will personally spread your limitations over a very large area,” said Luna sternly.

  Leo pou
ted. “This isn’t at all fair, you know.”

  “Now you know how I feel,” said the King of the Cats.

  “Shut up,” said Leo. He shook his head and growled. “I should have joined the union when they asked me.”

  He stretched and twisted into his wolf form, and raced forward to help the thunder godling, who was currently on the wrong end of an appalling beating.

  Jimmy had lost his hammer, and was going head to head with Angel, both of them giving and receiving dreadful blows that shook the foggy air like thunderclaps. Any of those terrible blows would have killed a lesser being immediately, but Jimmy Thunder and Angel crashed back and forth through the wood, knocking down or destroying the dead trees when they got in their way, leaving a wide trail of devastation and churned-up ash and earth. Great trees that had stood for centuries, even after they were dead, were now uprooted and set leaning at impossible angles as Jimmy and Angel fought on.

  The thunder godling was losing, and he knew it. He was strong and fast and could soak up staggering amounts of punishment, but in the end Angel was just so much more than he was. Blood ran thickly down his pulped face as he gasped for air through a crushed mouth and broken nose, and it was all he could do to see his opponent through his swollen and closing eyes. His back was still straight and his blows were still strong, but he could feel the strength going out of his legs. He’d never fought so hard, for so long, to so little effect. It was like smashing his fists against a mountainside. Angel drove him back, steadily, remorselessly, laughing as she hit and hurt him.

  Leo circled the fight, looking for an opening. He wasn’t sure what he could do. All right, he was a werewolf, but truth be told he wasn’t even in Jimmy Thunder’s class, never mind Angel’s. And then Jimmy Thunder roared with rage and hurt and frustration, and went berserk. Veins popped up all over his body as his muscles distended and all his wounds stopped bleeding. His eyes were wild and fey, everything he was now focused only on attack. He surged forward, shrugging off Angel’s blows, and clasped her in a vicious bear hug, pinning her arms to her sides and crushing the air from her. All her greater strength couldn’t stand against his berserker rage. For a moment Angel was actually helpless, and Leo saw his chance. He launched himself at Angel and, with one vicious snap of his great wolf jaws, tore out her throat.