Half Wild (25 page)

“The Alliance?” Marcus laughs. “They must be desperate.”

“Yes, I think that sums them up.”

“And are you determined to join them? Do you really want to risk your life for a cause?”

“It’s my cause. Bringing Black and White Witches together.”

“I don’t think that is the cause. I think the cause is getting rid of a lunatic White Witch leader and a bunch of power-mad Hunters. And, once that’s done, winning the peace, as they say, will be much more problematic than winning the war.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

Marcus smiles at me. “Possibly not. But may I still worry a little about a war I’m likely to get killed in?”

“Will you join then?” I’m surprised. “I didn’t think you would.”

“I’m not interested in bringing Black and White Witches together. However, I am very much excited by the thought of getting rid of Soul and the Hunters. That definitely appeals. I’m not ready for retirement just yet. I’m not really a joining kind of person. But I’ll help you fight Soul and the Hunters. I’d like to meet Celia. I think I should see the woman who locked my son up every night for two years.” He shakes his head. “She’s offering me an amnesty but maybe she should be asking me for one.”

I look at him and wonder if he’s serious or joking.

“I’m not interested in amnesties or bargains, Nathan, for me or for her. I despise all that. And I hope you do too. We each do what we have to do. Maybe that applies even to Soul, I don’t know, and I don’t much care about him, except I’d like to see him die.”

And the cold way he says all this makes me realize that my father is as capable of killing a man as he is a rabbit, with no more regrets, possibly fewer.

“There’s a meeting in Basle at the Red Gourd in five days. Celia will be there.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“I should go back and tell them.”

“No. You should stay with me. We go back together or not at all.”

I look at him, uncertain as to why he says that. I ask him, “Don’t you trust me?”

He looks me in the eye and I see the same black triangles turning slowly in his as in mine. He says, “I want you to stay with me. Is a week of your life too much to ask?”

I shake my head once and feel tears fill my eyes.

He turns away. “Good.”

I finally do the thing I’ve wanted to do for so long. I pull the Fairborn out of my jacket and hold it out to him.

He takes it from me and slowly pulls the knife out of the sheath.

“It’s not a happy object, is it?” he says.

“It’s yours.”

“Yes, I suppose. My grandfather had it for a time.”

“It recognizes us, our blood. It won’t come out of the sheath for anyone else.”

He slides the knife back in and places it on the ground by his side.

It feels over too quickly after all the effort to find the Fairborn and return it to my father.

“I won’t kill you,” I say.

“Perhaps not. We’ll see.” He turns and lies down. I put another log on the fire and sit watching it and watching my father, and I realize that I am happy here with him.

Nearly a week has gone by. It feels like a lifetime in some ways and like just a few hours in others. My father and I have done so much hunting, walking, running, and just being together, and now we’re ready to go back to the Red Gourd for the meeting tomorrow.

“Are you sure you want to?” Marcus asks me.

“Yes. There’s Annalise.”

I’ve told him about her, about how I like her, and he’s not commented on that. As with most things he just listens and doesn’t give his opinion. I guess I’m like that too.

But now he says, “Annalise . . . the situation was like that between me and your mother. It’s not a good situation, Nathan. Not in the long term. At the beginning we were so involved in each other, we lived for nothing but the next time we were to see each other. We kept meeting and it was never enough. It was a miracle we managed to keep things secret for so long. I wanted her to leave with me but she couldn’t survive like this”—he waves his hand at the trees and river—“and she was wise enough to realize that. She married that man instead, which was less wise. Her marriage was a disaster.” He pauses and looks into the distance. “I admit I didn’t help but . . . at the time my main concern was to be with her at least a little.”

He turns to me. “You should learn from us, Nathan. Look at yourself. You are like me. I’ve been looking for your mother in you and”—he shakes his head—“I don’t see her at all. I see me. I see Black.”

And I know he’s right. I am like him and even more so now that I’ve spent time with him, but when I’m with Annalise I feel that side of me, the White side, come to the surface.

I say, “I know what you’re saying but—”

“You look like me, you have the same Gift, you have the same loves and desires and possibly the same limitations.”

“What limitations?”

“Living in a city. Being with people. Being in buildings.”

“I admit I have a problem with buildings. But I’m OK with lots of people. Some I really like.”

“I liked your mother. Look where that ended. You’re a Black Witch, Nathan. You’re darker than most Black Witches I know. You shouldn’t have anything to do with them, with White Witches. You should leave the girl.”

I shake my head. “I can’t. I don’t want to.”

We’re silent for a while then I ask him the same question he asked me. “Are you sure you want to go? Risk losing this beautiful life?”

“It’s time I risked things for you. I’m getting old, Nathan. Not very old but before I get too old I want to spend some time with my son.”

a a a

* * *

We go back to Basle through another cut that doesn’t involve getting wet.

“How many cuts do you have?” I ask.

“Lots. I figure if they can find them then let them keep busy doing that.” He glances at me. “It gives the Hunters something to do!” He laughs. “I should fill the world with them.”

We’re in Basle the afternoon before the meeting. Marcus insists on scouting the city and says I can’t help as I’m too conspicuous, and I know that the Hunters do know what I look like. He arrives back at the walled garden when it’s dark and says, “Two Hunters. One of the benefits of being able to turn invisible is that I can follow them and listen to them for hours without much danger. They’re talking to informants or rather they would be if they could find any. It seems that the Half Bloods have disappeared. I guess they’ve fled or gone over to the Alliance, which is a good sign, though it’s making the Hunters very curious.”

“But they know nothing about the meeting tomorrow?”

Marcus shakes his head. “Those two definitely don’t.”

We sleep on the ground and I look at the stars and wonder about the future. A war is definitely coming and I have to admit that I’m curious to see my father fighting in it.

* * *

The next morning Marcus does another check of the city and the two Hunters and he returns, saying, “No change. Let’s go.”

We head to the Red Gourd. He becomes invisible for the journey, guiding me by my arm and keeping me moving fast. We approach the alley that the bar is in from a different side and I only recognize it at the last moment. As I push open the heavy wooden door and step inside, my father says, “I’ll stay like this for the moment.”

I don’t nod or acknowledge what he’s said but move down the first of the stone steps, and as I pull aside the heavy curtain I see the inside of the Red Gourd for the briefest moment before it’s gone and we’re sucked through a cut. It’s black and swirling and as empty of air as ever but I feel Marcus’s hand tight on my arm and, although I don’t know why we’ve gone through a cut, I’m reassured. I feel indestructible when my father’s with me.

And we’re out. It’s the shortest and widest cut I’ve been through. I don’t fall to the ground like I’ve done every other time, possibly because the cut is so wide and possibly because my father is holding me up.

I look around for Hunters but there are none.

We’re in a bar but not the Red Gourd or at least not the original one. This bar is in the open air, in a forest clearing. It is laid out the same as the Red Gourd with tables along the wall, only here there is no wall, though the booths at the far end are still booths. To my right is the long bar but there’s no wall behind that either and instead of the low, timbered roof of the Red Gourd there is a canvas sail that is tied taut between trees.

Gabriel, Van, Celia, and the other White Witch, Grace, are sitting at the furthest table and Gus is standing with them, his back to me. I take a step toward them but my father holds me still.

Gabriel sees me, and Gus turns and says, “Talk of the devil.”

My father lets go of my arm.

I say, “Hi.”

They all look at me expectantly and I’m not sure what to say or what my father wants me to do.

Celia says, “Are you alone?”

“My father is . . . thinking about your offer.”

“So you’ve failed,” says Gus. “You were supposed to bring Marcus with you.”

And then Gus screams and grabs at the right side of his face, blood pouring between his fingers. He drops to his knees. Blood is running down his neck, his arm, and onto the floor. He’s still screaming and grasping at the side of his face as Marcus appears, standing over him. The Fairborn is in his left hand and something else, something small and bloody, is in his right hand. I think it’s Gus’s ear.

Everyone is still and silent, except for Gus, who is wailing now.

Marcus says, “Gus. I really must thank you for working with me over the last few years, acting as such a . . .” Marcus looks at me with a mock confused expression on his face. “What was the phrase, Nathan? An ‘extremely discreet and equally cautious’ messenger. However, pulling a knife on my son strikes me as being neither discreet nor cautious. So I felt I had to do the same to you. You can take that as an end to our working relationship.”

Gus looks like he’s going to be sick.

Marcus drops the ear on the ground and wipes the Fairborn clean on Gus’s shoulder. “So, Nathan, do you want to introduce me to your friends? I’d particularly like to know which one is the Hunter who kept you in a cage.”

Celia moves to stand but Marcus says, “No, don’t get up.”

He doesn’t say it out of politeness but as an instruction. I can see Celia is thinking about it but she remains sitting, cool as ever. She says, “And I have always wanted to meet the man who killed my sister.”

Marcus smiles. “Really? I had no idea.” He moves to stand behind Celia but speaks to Van. He says, “Thanks for the invitation to come here today, Van. I get very few, as you can imagine.”

Gus is now vomiting on the floor.

Marcus looks at him with disgust and says to Celia, “We need to talk. But I’m finding Gus here a little distracting. If I stay here any longer I’m likely to cut more than his ear off.”

Celia gets up. “Well, I suggest we take a walk then.”

And off they go together into the forest. And I’m not sure if Celia will come out alive, with both ears or what.

Two hours later Celia and Marcus return to the camp. Celia has both her ears. They walk back side by side, deep in conversation, not looking at each other but staying close enough to keep their voices quiet.

Soon we’re all back sitting round the table, except Gus, who has wisely disappeared from Marcus’s sight. Van helped him heal and reattached his ear. It looked a mess to me, though.

Van has told me we’re in the Black Forest of southern Germany. Celia plans on using this place as the main camp for the Alliance.

Celia opens the meeting by stating the principal aim of the Alliance: “To remove Soul O’Brien from the leadership of the White Witches, by killing him if necessary, and to return Britain to a state of peaceful coexistence among all Witches.

“Our first objective is to drive the Hunters out of Europe. They are moving down from the north but are still concentrated in northern France and Germany. They’re growing in number, recruiting as they move south. The longer we wait before attacking, the harder it will be to stop them. We must attack, both to deter new recruits and to remove the ones they already have before they’re fully trained.

“However, we have few fighters and can afford to lose none of them. Each attack must succeed on three fronts: killing the enemy, demoralizing the enemy, raiding their stores—seizing their weapons, equipment and food—”

“I take it you have no weapons?” Marcus interrupts.

“Few, and nothing to match the Hunters’ guns. Those are what we need to get our hands on most of all. When they realize that they’re going to be killed with their own bullets—a slow, painful death—that’s another small advantage we win.”

I say to Celia, “I don’t see how the raids will deter new recruits. The Hunters are hardly going to tell anyone about them, are they?”

“News will travel. White Witches keep much closer contact with each other than Black Witches do. But we will also spread the word about Alliance successes. We need recruits too. Van will let the Black Witches know that Marcus is working with us. Once they hear that, and see us succeeding, more will join.

“But it won’t be easy,” Celia adds. “Hunters pride themselves on learning from their mistakes. They analyze all their battles, victories and defeats. They’ll soon work out our tactics.”

“And what are our tactics?” I ask.

“We have an elite group of fighters—”

“We do?”

“Yes. Myself, Greatorex, Nesbitt, Gabriel. And now you and Marcus. Plus some good trainees.”

“Not huge numbers then!”

“That’s fine. We attack, raid, and run. In and out quickly. We pick the weak groups of new recruits to attack. That’s what the scouts are out looking for at the moment. We choose our first target when they get back to base.”

“Is this base?” I ask.

“Yes, all those who join the Alliance will come here. It will soon grow and will need organizing. Everyone will have to do their bit.”

Celia explains that each person will be put in a task group. There are four groups: Scouts and Fighters; Foraging and Stores; Cooking and Camp; and Healers. Gabriel and I are fighters. Ellen, Greatorex, and Nesbitt are scouting at the moment. Annalise is in Foraging and Stores and is with one of the groups now, helping bring provisions to this base.

I look over at Marcus. He’s not in any task group. Our eyes meet and I think he’s thinking the same thing. He says, “When do I get to kill some Hunters?”

“The scouts are back tomorrow. The first raid will be tomorrow night.”

Afterward I hang back and ask Celia about Deborah. “Has she left the Council yet?”

Celia looks relieved as she answers. “She’s agreed to leave. It’s become impossible for her to get more information out without it being obvious that it’s coming from her. She should make it to us. I’ve sent someone to bring her here.”

* * *

That night I don’t sleep well. I don’t have nightmares but I wake and can’t get back to sleep. I wonder where Annalise is, hoping she’s safe. I thought I’d be with her tonight but she’s not due back until tomorrow. I feel sick thinking about her. She’s regained much of her health since being under Mercury’s spell. And she’s agile and great at running but if the Hunters find her group the truth is she doesn’t stand a chance. In the end I get up and start to walk through the forest. It’s still dark and Gabriel falls in beside me.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” he says.

“I need to burn off some energy,” I say. “Coming?”

“Of course.” And we set off running, fast.

It feels good, so good, to be running and free. Just free. A fine, misty rain begins to fall. It’s sharply cold on my cheeks as I run. It’s beautiful. I call to Gabriel that I’m going ahead.

I pick up my pace and go as hard and fast as I can, over a hill and down into a glade. There’s a clearing near a stream. It’s getting light now and I stop. I sit on the ground cross-legged and wait, listen. It feels good sitting here, taking in the smell of earth and trees, and watching the stream run silently by. It’s so calm and peaceful that it seems absurd that soon we’ll be fighting and I’ll have to kill again. The forest reminds me of the place where I woke after I killed the fast Hunter. I was in shock, and the Hunter was dead, but the forest was the same as ever, as beautiful and peaceful as ever. And maybe that is all we can hope for, that the forest will go on being beautiful.

I hear Gabriel’s footsteps after a while, then they stop and I start to smile: I know he’s trying to sneak up on me. I remain still, my hearing straining for the slightest noise. He’s either stopped completely or he’s improved a lot. But then I hear a rustle of leaves close behind and I turn as he rushes to me and then shouts and leaps on me. We mock fight, then roll apart but remain lying on the ground.

“You’d be dead if I was a Hunter,” he says.

I laugh; he knows that isn’t true. I say, “You were good. I only really heard you right at the end.”

“Damned with faint praise,” he says.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“It means you’d have killed me.”

“Well, yes. But I think you’d have surprised most Hunters. There are some good ones and some less good ones.” I shrug. “You just have to hope you get lucky and only get the less good ones.”

“I have no intention of finding out what I get, as I intend to shoot them from a great distance anyway.”

“Good plan.”

He shuffles closer to me and we sit looking down the gentle slope through the trees to the stream.

I say, “There’ll be plenty of shooting. And soon.”

“Yes, there’ll be plenty of that and worse, much worse. ‘
I see wars, horrid wars, and the Tiber foaming with much blood
.’”

* * *

“We attack tonight,” Celia says.

“Our target is a new training camp with ten recruits and two Hunters,” Nesbitt explains. He arrived back early in the morning and now we’re being briefed. “I’ve watched the camp for the last two days. The trainees are mostly young; six are German and four French. They all understand English. They’re all female. They are all pretty good with guns but hand to hand they’re hopeless. One of the Germans can send out a noise similar to Celia’s but it’s weak and won’t disable you. One of the French girls can become invisible. Again it’s a weak Gift and she can only hold it for a few seconds but it’s enough to disorient opponents, or cause you to miss her, or give her a chance to sneak up on you. The two Hunters are old hands: English, female, early thirties, excellent shots, excellent hand-to-hand fighting.”

Celia says, “The recruits will be dangerous if they get to their guns. And they usually sleep with them. We attack at first light: some will still be in bed; some will not be fully alert.”

“Which brings me to the location,” adds Nesbitt. “They’re in an old airfield; it’s open ground with a fence round it. They sleep inside, in one of the small hangars. They have two on guard at the gate on three-hour shifts, but the new recruits don’t see the point of it and don’t patrol the fence.”

“How far is it?” Gabriel asks.

“It’s in France, over five hours’ drive from here, but Marcus set up a cut for us to go through. It comes out half a mile from the airfield.”

Celia says, “It gets light at six a.m. Nesbitt and Nathan leave here at four a.m. to scout. The rest of us leave at five.”

“I’m not a scout,” I say.

“No, you’re not. Nesbitt is our best scout and very valuable he is too. So your job is to protect him, with your life if necessary.”

Nesbitt grins at me. “I know you’ll dive in front to take the bullet for me, mate.”

“I’ll push you out of the way into a cowpat.”

Nesbitt shrugs. “Whatever works.”

“I will lead the team,” says Celia. “We all go. We all learn. We work in pairs. The pairs may change in future; this is for tonight’s raid. It’s up to you to make sure you’ve got the equipment you need from the stores we have.”

The little group of fighters has naturally split into two groups, Celia in the middle. Gabriel, me, Nesbitt, and a young woman, a Half Blood, are standing together and looking at three White Witches. I can spot Greatorex straightaway. She’s the ex-Hunter, the deserter. She’s tall, with pale, freckled skin and hazel eyes, a broken nose. I guess she’s in her early twenties but she looks younger. She’s wearing similar combat gear to Celia. The other two Whites are also young. They’ve spent the whole meeting so far trying to look tough.

Nesbitt smiles at them. “Sorry, ladies, but you’ve missed your chance to be partnered with me. Better luck next time.”

The girls don’t even look like they’ve heard him.

He mutters but in a voice loud enough for them to hear, “Shit. You’d think we were the enemy.”

They begin to loosen up and almost smile until Nesbitt adds, “You’d better partner up quick; whoever’s left over goes with Marcus.”

The girls look around and laugh nervously.

Celia says, “Marcus will not be having a partner. I’ll brief him separately on what’s happening. Greatorex, you go with Claudia. Olivia with me. Gabriel with Sameen. And Nathan is with Nesbitt.”

I grumble quietly to Gabriel, “This better just be for tonight.”

Gabriel replies, “It’s a sensible plan to put Sameen with me. You’d terrify her and Nesbitt would confuse her totally.”

Sameen is the Half Blood: half Black, half fain. Her eyes are a strange brown and turquoise mix.

I say, “Yeah, it makes sense. But it is noticeable that we’re not exactly mixing—Whites and Blacks.”

“I think that’s sensible too for the first mission. We’ve not even had time to train together. We have to trust our partners.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not with Nesbitt.”