Part 48 (2/2)

Raven had taken Verity to Long Eden, wearing his cat shape, as he never appeared before others as a man. He had taken her inside the house and showed her everything.

If you want this, it is yours,' he told her. No-one else will come for it.'

Verity had walked around the echoing, empty rooms, and for a while imagined herself living there, but the fantasy was short-lived. No,' she said. It will never be my home.'

On the night of the feast of Yule, Verity knew that she would gather the villagers together, and lead them to Long Eden. In the cold darkness, they would chant for the rebirth of the Sun King and burn the house down. It might take several days to burn completely, but at the end, its great stones would fall inward, hiding forever the dark secrets of the underground chambers.

Verity also knew that soon new people would come to live at The White House. Barney Eager would not feel able to live in Little Moor after his wife had been mysteriously murdered in the woods. The new people would be young and enthusiastic. They would encourage tourists to come to the village, and no-one would stop them.

Although Barbara Eager had not survived the night of terror, Louis had. What was left to Verity was a human husk, in which very little of her father remained. Still, she would care for him, wash his body, feed him, and wheel his chair out into the garden when it was fine. Raven had told her he would take a long time to die because of what Peverel Othman had done to him. Sometimes, Verity would feel pity for Louis, but mostly, she would feel nothing. Caring for him was a duty; she would not neglect it.

Verity opened the aviary and stepped inside. Raven sat down on the frosted gra.s.s and began to wash himself, content to wait outside. A myriad of brightly coloured birds lifted in a throng and blew about Verity's head like a s.h.i.+mmering flag of cloth. Their high songs filled her head and she held out her hands for them to land upon her. Souls. The birds were souls. Released from the belly of the earth, the spirits of all who had died in the laboratories of the Murkasters and who had been released on the night of penance. Verity was their guardian now. She knew that gradually the birds would disappear as they were taken one by one to the place that had been denied them, but until that time, she would care for them herself. The birds nestled in her hair, fas.h.i.+oning a living head-dress of feathers and bright, bead eyes. Perhaps, in a way, she really had become a queen of the dead, as once her dreams had prophesied.

Verity closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the little claws tickling her scalp. She thought of Daniel, her brother. Raven had a.s.sured her he was alive, but she was worried about him. She would never forgive Louis for what he'd done. There were now photos of Daniel all over the house, put up on the walls mainly to discomfort Louis, whom Verity felt had to be reminded constantly of his part in Daniel's disappearance. She knew nearly all the details of what had happened on the night of terror, and why, because Raven had told her. She knew that Louis would have stood by and let Daniel be killed. Greed, she thought, he was so greedy, but stupid too.

Having fed the birds, Verity let herself out of the aviary and went back towards the house. She had a busy day ahead of her: a morning meeting with the women of the village and, later, a sitting of the Little Moor council, of which she had hastily been elected secretary. As she approached the house, she heard the telephone ringing. Mrs Roan had not yet arrived, so muttering in impatience, Verity increased her pace. She ran into the hall and threw down her basket on hall table, lifting the phone. Raven bounded half-way up the stairs and sat looking at her intently through the banisters.

h.e.l.lo,' Verity said, in her most aloof tone.

Vez?' The voice was weak, distant. There was a lot of interference on the line.

Verity pushed her hair back behind her ears. Dan? Daniel? Is that you?'

Yes. Are you all right?'

Yes, yes. Daniel, where are you?'

It doesn't matter,' he answered. I'm OK.'

But what happened...?'

I can't talk. I just wanted to let you know I was still alive.'

Dan! Daniel!'

Take care.' The line went dead.

He hung up,' Verity said to Raven. She felt like crying, but instead began to laugh. He hung up.'

Raven was a sinuous, manly form draped over the stairs, resting his head on one hand. His tail switched lazily against the carpet. You will hear from him again,' he said.

Will I?' Verity wearily climbed the stairs and lay down with her head against Raven's chest. Wan sunlight came into the hall, kindling fire in the gleam of the polished wood on floor and walls. Time ticked slowly by, and Verity became aware of a sense of imminence, but there were no holy feet walking towards Little Moor.

Epilogue.

The hotel was dingy, una.s.suming, hidden away in a run-down corner of a sooty Midlands town. They had been holed up there for three days, since the frantic drive down from Little Moor.

Emma Manden was beginning to wonder whether she'd done the right thing. Owen was imbecilic, Lily forever weeping about her cats, while Daniel seemed to want to live inside his own head - not that she could blame him. As for the other one, Emma was wary of approaching him. This was not the man she'd met in Little Moor. He was aloof, broken, terse and melancholic; a stranger. It was like going out into the back yard and finding an angel, fallen from heaven, flapping around in the dust with broken wings, too big and too alien to help, too beautiful to ignore and allow to die. He had shut himself away from the others, making it clear he had no desire to communicate. Emma wondered whether he was actually eating anything. Still, she knew she had to talk to him at some point. What, for example, were they going to do next? Where must they go? There had been pursuit, they all knew that, and to use any of their credit cards might prove dangerous, a means by which they could be traced. And cash was short.

She went to him in his room, and there he was, filling it with his presence, uncomfortable and confined. What do I call you?' she asked.

He was lying on the bed, half-dressed, apparently doing nothing. He shrugged. I don't care. What do you want?'

She explained, adding, You must help me. I need to make plans. Where can we go?'

He rubbed his face. There are places. London. We'll go to London. I know people there.'

Right. Thank you. That's all I needed to know. I'll get the others organised, then.' She made to leave, then paused at the door. We have to carry on, you know. And you have to help me. The kids are a mess. I can't cope with it alone. After all, you are responsible.'

He frowned. No, I'm not. It's something I've inherited.'

Emma sighed and left the room. She felt like the keeper of a mad menagerie.

They left the town in the late afternoon, hidden among the bustle of rush hour traffic, the darkness of the day occluded by smog and rus.h.i.+ng lights. Daniel sat in the front with Emma as before. He seemed tired, but slightly more alert than he'd been over the past few days. Lily slept in the back, while Owen lay slumped with his head against one of the back windows, staring out at the dark. Shemyaza sat between them, apparently oblivious of their presence.

Halfway down the M1, he instructed Emma to pull off the motorway and drive into the country. She didn't question why. Perhaps they were going to make an overnight stop on their way south. She would leave that decision to him.

They came to a hill at the side of the road, perhaps an ancient earthworks of some kind. Here, Shemyaza asked Emma to stop the car. She did so, and watched as he got out. Now what? He climbed over the fence and began to walk up the hill. Emma sighed. Oh, for G.o.d's sake!'

Daniel, sensing her mood, lit her a cigarette. Don't worry,' he said. He's got a lot to think about.'

Shemyaza walked up towards the stars. At the brow of the hill, he paused, looking skywards, then sank to his knees. The air was cold around him, burrowing between the layers of his clothes, pinching his skin. He felt so numb and yet so raw. He could smell the fertile earth and the clear-water perfume of the sky. The marriage of Heaven and Earth. Hadn't that been what he'd always wanted? But that had been a long time ago, so long that it could hardly be important now. Ishtahar had spoken of destinies, of approaching conclusions. Shemyaza wanted none of that. He wanted to rest, seek respite with those whom he loved, live a normal life. It had been an accident he'd become something different. Now, he was faced with the end product of his illicit affair with the human woman: Lily and Owen, the hybrid hybrids. Without him, and his acts of l.u.s.t, they would not exist. He was responsible for them, but he did not want to be. Neither did he want to admit that he could serve some special purpose in this chaotic, messy world, and bring about important change. He was too tired, too hurt. It was difficult to care what happened here.

He raised his head to the sky, seeking out the constellation where some part of him had hung in exile. I don't want this,' he whispered, and repeated it until it became a shout. I don't want this!' If he sought to penetrate the psychic gate symbolised by Orion, reach the senses of the Renowned Old Ones, his words were unanswered. He could feel no hint of their presence, or any other, save his own.

The others were waiting for him. He must go back. And perhaps, one day, as he struggled towards the destiny he neither wanted nor cared about, one or more of them would betray him, and he would be hung and burned once more. Now, they were hungry for him, and wanted him to lead them. But if he couldn't give them enough, they might turn and snarl and bite. He knew enough of human nature to understand that was not inconceivable. But he realised he did have a choice.

With a final, weary glance at the sky, Shemyaza gathered his strengths and walked back down the hill to the waiting car, lit from within by a dim, yellow glow. He knew now that he would deny his destiny. No-one could make him become something he did not want to be. Let the end of the millennium pa.s.s unnoticed. He would hide from it. He had not asked to be awakened.

Emma Manden watched Shemyaza come back towards the car. Look at him,' she thought, Great Shem, look at him.' And he was Great Shem. She knew that, but she had a feeling he didn't.

end.

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