Dark Season: The Complete Box Set (17 page)

Hamish

Norfolk, 1705

"What I've never understood," says a distant, muffled voice in the darkness above me, "is why brains are so cheap, but they'll pay over the moon for a full set of guts."

"Brains are easy," says another voice. "But guts, you have to pull 'em out and keep 'em intact while you wheel 'em over. It's a difficult job. Right, your turn."

There's banging above me. I raise my hand, but I find that the coffin lid is still shut. Damn it, what's holding these guys up? They seem like the most amateurish grave-robbers in all of England. Still, I should be grateful that they're digging me up at all.

"I've got a bad feeling about this one," says one of the voices. "I reckon it's gonna stink."

I close my eyes as the coffin lid is lifted up. It's night, so there's not much light.

"Not bad," says one of the voices.

"Not bad?" says the other. "He's like brand new. We'll get double the money for this one."

I feel them reach down and haul me up out of the grave. So, I'm to be grave-robbed, cut up and sold to medicine men across the city so they can cut me up. What's the world coming to? People these days have absolutely no respect.

"Excuse me," I say, sitting up, opening my eyes and smiling. "Would either of you happen to know the time? And the year?"

For a moment, they stare at me, completely shocked. Then, at the exact same moment, they both turn and run out of the cemetery. I smile, then I get up, dust myself down and walk slowly after them. For a moment, I feel like being merciful and letting them go, but then I realize how hungry I am. I need meat. I sniff the air to get a good scent, and I realize they're now running in opposite directions to one another. I pick the one on the right and race after him. I leap over the cemetery fence and within thirty seconds I'm right behind the grave-robbing fool. I spring through the air and land on his back, biting a chunk from his neck as we hit the ground.

He dies quickly and I spend a good half hour sitting on his body, eating chunks of flesh. Once I've fed, I make my way back to London carefully. It takes almost a month, since they buried me in the provinces in an unmarked grave. It's dark when I reach the city, and I immediately head for Hannah's father's house. The building looks different somehow, and darker, as if a large family no longer lives here.

Rather than walking straight in through the front door, I prowl around to the back. The hearth fire is burning, but there's no sign of life. I manage to get in through a window and it's immediately obvious that the house is more silent and still than I have ever known it to be. There is something disconcerting about this place as it is now, whereas it was once such a happy house. There used to be children here, but now the corridors are empty.

Finding no-one on the ground floor, I creep up the stairs. Still, the place seems deserted and I'm concerned. Eventually I hear a sound of life from a distant room at the far end of the upstairs corridor. I walk toward the door as quietly as possible and wait outside, listening to the sound of someone breathing inside. It takes a moment before I recognize the sound of Hannah. Sniffing the air, I realize it's definitely her. After all these years, I've found her again.

I push the door open and enter the room, but I'm immediately confronted by a sight I never expected to see. There's only one person in here, and it's an old lady in a small bed by the window. She's staring at the ceiling and she doesn't seem to have noticed me. I make my way over to her and see how white her eyes are. She's blind. And as I look at her face, I see - impossibly - that this is definitely Hannah.
My
Hannah.

I kneel by the bed.

"How long was I gone?" I ask.

Hannah's head twitches a little. She turns to look in my general direction, but she can't see me. She senses me, though, even if she lacks the ability to say anything.

"What year is it?" I say, having never realized I was in that coffin for so long.

Hannah's white eyes search for me hopelessly. Does she recognize my voice? My smell? She reaches out a hand, but it's an old hand, withered and dying. I can't take it.

I stand up, turn and walk out of the room without looking back. I walk straight down the stairs and out of the house. I can't stay there and watch her die. I'd rather be a dream she had on her deathbed, a hint of something beyond the grave, something that might give her comfort as she dies. To be honest, I've never been very good at watching people die. I always like to move on before things get to that point.

Sophie

I wake up to the smell of grass. Opening my eyes, I find I'm face down in a field. It's a bright, sunny day. I sit up and immediately realize someone is behind me. I turn and see Hamish sitting nearby. His wounds have already started to heal, but they're still visible. Feeling something itchy, I reach up and find that there's a thick rope tied around my neck.

"If you're wondering what's going on," Hamish says, smiling at me, "allow me to illuminate the situation for you. This is a good old-fashioned kidnapping, my darling. Like they used to do in the old days."

I try to pull the rope loose, but it's no use; Hamish has tied it tight and fast.

"You'll just waste energy doing that," he says. "Give it a rest, eh?"

"Where are we?" I ask, turning and looking across the field. I don't want Hamish to see that I'm panicking, but I can't help worrying that a pack of wild wolves is about to appear at any moment. "Where's Patrick?"

Hamish shrugs. "Probably still waiting to face down a bunch of wolves. Or maybe they've arrived and he's in the thick of it, snapping their necks one by one. To be honest, I don't really know. When we left the cave, he was just standing there waiting for an attack. Didn't even notice us leaving, though that's mainly 'cause I sneaked us out of a back exit. So fixated on one thing, that's good old Patrick. You get used to that after a while. The guy's got a one-track mind."

"You just left Patrick there?" I ask, still trying to loosen the rope.

"He'll be fine."

"He was willing to die for you," I say. "And you just
left
him there?" I figure I need to keep him talking while I work on getting free.

Hamish shrugs. "He won't die. The most he'll get is a few scratches until they realize I'm not with him, and then they'll leave. See? It'd be worse for him if I'd stayed. He'd have insisted on sticking with me. Anyway, I don't need him."

"Then why did you come to ask for his help?"

"I didn't." He fixes me with a curious stare. "I came to ask for
your
help."

I look at him and try to understand. "Me? I'm just..." I pause for a moment. "You had a choice between a powerful vampire and me, and you chose
me
?"

He nods. "Aye. I must be suicidal, mustn't I?" He pauses. "You're just a straggly little streak of piss. So. Are you backing out?"

I look around. We're on the edge of the forest. I'm not exactly sure of the way back home, but I know the rough direction. Still tugging on the rope, I realize it's futile; I'm never going to get loose.

"You know what the rest of the pack's doing right now?" Hamish asks. "Well, one of two things. Either they're having a ding-dong fight with Patrick, or they're following a bunch of false trails through the forest. Whichever it is, they're not gonna bother us for a few hours. Still, we'd better get going, 'cause if they find us, they'll kill us." He stares at me. "Both of us."

"We have to go and find Patrick," I say. Despite what Hamish says, I
know
that Patrick's the only one who can save us.

"No," he says. "Sorry, but we can't do that yet. I've got a bit of a plan, I just need your help. A couple of hours and we can sort all of this out, and we can both be on our way, okay?" He smiles. "I don't know about you, but I don't wanna give Patrick the satisfaction of thinking he's the only way we can get out of this. We don't need him." He makes his way over to a nearby tree, which he sniffs for a moment. "We've gotta get moving," he says eventually. "Follow me."

I stand and stare at him as he starts walking away. He's got the other end of the rope in his hands, and after a moment I have no choice but to follow him.

"If we sit here," he calls back to me, "we're only gonna have all those wolves overrun us."

"You think Patrick won't save me?" I shout back at him.

"I think he would if he could," says Hamish, "but I think he's a bit busy right now. And I think you'll be a lot better off coming with me, because unlike Patrick, I
do
have a plan, and I
do
know how to get out of this situation without getting into a big old fistfight. And if I'm right, it's not you who needs saving. It's me, and it's Patrick. So come on. You've got a job to do."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," I say, stopping in my tracks.

"You think you can just stop and walk back?" he asks, pulling hard on the rope, making me keep walking. "They'll find you, and they'll rip you to pieces for fun."

I stand my ground, trying to resist his attempts to pull me along. When he realizes I'm not following, he stops and turns again. "You want to know how far behind us those wolves are? About two, maybe three hours. Do you really not want to live more than two or three more hours, eh?"

"So your answer is just to run," I say. "Just keep running."

He nods. "I've been running for five hundred fucking years," he says. "I'm good at it."

"Then how come you're in such a mess?" I ask.

"Because I had to come and find Patrick. I thought he could help me. I took a risk, and it didn't pay off. Now I've got to get running again. But this time I know where I'm going. I just need your help. I promise you, if you come with me and you do what I say, everything's going to be fine. I've got a plan."

"A plan?"

"Yeah. A great plan. A fucking brilliant plan, but I can't pull it off alone. That's why I need you. I thought I'd get Patrick to help me fight the bastards off, but I've got a much better plan now. I don't need brute force, I need brains. And that's where you come in. I knew it the moment I met you."

I stare at him.

"I can
make
you come," he says with a sigh, "but it's gonna be exhausting if I have to drag your ass every fucking step of the way, you know what I mean? Besides, I'd hate to see you get ripped up by the rest of the pack. I've seen that happen to people, and it's not pretty. Or quick. And it'd really fuck up my plan, and I'd feel pretty guilty over involving you." He gives the rope a gentle tug. "Come on, darling. Not much further."

"I don't believe you," I say.

"I've got it all figured out."

"For someone who's got it all figured out," I say, "you seem to be in a bit of a mess."

"There's a plan!" he insists.

"Okay," I say. "What is it? What's the great plan?"

"Can't tell you," he says. "Not 'til we're there. Frankly, if I told you, you'd refuse to come with me, 'cause it sounds crazy."

"I'm
already
refusing to come with you," I say.

"Aye, but not seriously," he says. "I mean, you can't go back the way we came, 'cause I promise you there's wolves ready to rip you to pieces. My way's the only way. All you have to do is stick with me, and I promise you'll be okay." He smiles a little. "I'm a friend of Patrick's. A good friend. Maybe the best friend he's ever had. Doesn't that tell you that you can trust me?"

I open my mouth to argue, but then I realize I've got no choice. All I can do is keep following him, and hope to God that Patrick turns up to save me before we run into a pack of hungry wolves. As Hamish starts walking again, I accept that I have no choice but to follow him. I reach up and try again to loosen the rope, but I don't think that approach is going to work. I need to come up with another way to get out of here.

We follow the course of a river, partly to break any trail we might be leaving and partly because Hamish insists we have to wash every hour in order to get rid of our scents. As time passes, he becomes more and more distracted, constantly glancing over his shoulder to see if we're being followed. When I ask, he says he has much stronger hearing than I can ever imagine; he says there's nothing tracking us so far, but that he needs to know when they're on our trail. I can't help noticing that it's 'when' rather than 'if', and I can't help looking over my own shoulder.

Eventually Hamish and I reach a bend in the river and he insists we wade in again, but this time he says we have to climb out the other side.

"Nearly there," he says, clambering up the opposite bank. "From now on, expect the unexpected."

"Nearly where?" I ask, following him up the muddy bank. I'm soaking wet. It feels like we're a thousand miles from civilization.

He stands still and seems to be listening to something I can't hear. "I need to tell you what happens next," he says. "There are wolves here and they want to kill me. There's nothing I can do. I can't persuade them. I can't fight them. I can't outrun them. I can't stop them." He takes a deep breath. "But
you
can."

I wait for him to explain, but he just stares at me. "How?" I ask eventually.

He steps closer, leans in and whispers directly into my ear. "You have to command them to leave me alone. You have to threaten to do terrible things to them if they don't obey you."

"I'm sure they'll be terrified," I say feebly.

"They will be if you tell them you're a mage," he whispers.

"A what?"

He takes a deep breath. "A mage is a kind of powerful sorcerer from many, many years ago. They've all gone now, they left long ago, but some people - some very superstitious people - believe there are still one or two. And any sane creature on this Earth would be terrified to come face to face with a mage. In fact, a mage is just about the one thing that the Alpha Wolf would never, ever mess with."

It's a bit much to take in. "What do you mean, they've
gone
?" I ask. "Where did they go?"

"They tired of this world. The violence and all that stuff, so they left for somewhere more peaceful, one of the other seven worlds. But it's not impossible that one of them could have stayed behind and remained hidden, or maybe got a bit bored and came back. And we're going to trick the wolves into thinking you're one of them. Trust me, they'll listen to you."

"I'm not a mage," I say. "
This
is your plan?"

"I
know
you're not a mage," he replies, "and normally you'd never be able to trick the wolves. But you've got something special about you, something that might just seal the deal." He leans in and sniffs me. "You have a scent that no other human has. You've spent so much time around Patrick, you smell like him. And other things too. Smells like you've met a Sentinel as well."

"Listen," I say, trying again to loosen the rope around my neck, "this isn't going to work. There's only one thing we can do, and that's to go and find Patrick. He can help us."

"He's already here," says Hamish.

I turn, but there's no sign of him.

"He followed us," Hamish continues. "He stayed out of sight all the time, but I promise you, he's here. If we need him, if we
really
need him, he'll help us. Fortunately, he's being smart for once, and he's gonna let me try my plan. He understands that it might actually work." He pauses for a moment. "Patrick's brute force isn't what we need. We need brains and bravery. I don't need him, darling. I need you."

"Why me?" I ask. "And don't call me darling."

"Because you can pull this off! Because you have the scent of a vampire."

I shake my head.

"You
do
," he says. "You're human, so you don't notice it. But trust me, any of the higher species can smell you from miles away. And that's good, because it'll unnerve them. They'll be extra cautious around you, and they'll feel like they don't know what you really are. Act like a mage, and they'll believe you
are
one."

"I'm not," I say. "Look at me. I'm really, really not anything special."

"They don't know that," he says. "You just walk up to the Alpha Wolf and you tell him you're a mage, and you command him to release me. He'll believe you."

I think about this for a moment. "Why the hell would he believe me?"

Hamish smiles. "Because he has a fucking high opinion of himself, and because he knows a normal human would never be so dumb as to walk up to him, surrounded by thousands of blood-thirsty wolves, and claim to be a mage. It's quite possibly the most insane thing a human has ever done, and
that's
why it'll never occur to him that you're bluffing."

"And what if he asks me to prove it?"

"He won't," Hamish replies, "not if he believes you. He wouldn't dare."

I think for a moment. "We need Patrick," I say.

"He's here. He's watching."

"We need him now!" I say firmly.

Hamish grabs me by the shoulders. "Listen to yourself. Patrick's great. He's strong and he's brave, but that's not what we need right now! If Patrick gets involved, there'll just be another fight. I thought you wanted to
avoid
anything like that, eh?
"

I think some more. "This isn't a plan," I say. "That is ridiculous. How old is this Alpha Wolf?"

"No-one knows for sure," he says. "Some say hundreds of years, some say thousands -"

"And you think you can trick him so easily?" I ask.