P.N.E. (The Wolfblood Prophecies Book 4) (18 page)

‘I’ve heard enough,’ said Queen Lethe impatiently. Titus clearly had more to say. Lethe checked her irritation. ‘Get on with it.’

Titus continued. ‘The prisoner has refused the opportunity to plead her case, preferring to remain silent. So without further ado, the XXXIX will cast their votes.’

Lord Oleander bowed, inclining his head in agreement. A tall, slender glass drum, on a platform draped with scarlet and sable velvet, was wheeled into the centre of the room. A metal sheath, enamelled with black skulls and red peonies, was placed over the drum. Under the watchful eyes of all present, led by Lord Oleander, the XXXIX processed towards the platform, encircling it and reaching deep into the pockets of their ceremonial robes. All was silent apart from a steady drumbeat which choreographed their movements, setting a brisk pace.

Then the lights were extinguished, and in the darkness, a voice rang out. ‘Number One! Number Two! Number Three!’ As each token was deposited a bell-like sound rang out from inside the glass drum.

The process seemed interminable, but at last number thirty-nine was called and the lights came back on. There was a fanfare of trumpets, and the spotlight shone on the ballot box. Paul and Lethe stood on either side, and slowly raised the metal sheath.

For a moment there was a stunned silence. Clearly no-one was expecting the result that was revealed - a dense mass of red tokens interspersed with a sparse scattering of black marbles. A vote for mercy. Lethe looked thunderous and Paul seemed lost for words. Lord Oleander rallied magnificently however, and in ringing tones proclaimed, ‘The judges have spoken!  Let the prisoner be released! Let us celebrate the compassion of your beloved King and Queen!’

Some rather half-hearted cheers rang out – everyone was wary; not quite sure which way to jump. Sebastian gestured irritably to the bandleader to start the music, and he strode towards the cage, jangling the keys as he walked. The crowd pressed forward to watch the almost unprecedented release of the prisoners.

Caught up in the throng, Jo was aware of someone pushing her hard. She turned round to remonstrate, and to her horror came face to face with Lucy.

‘You bloody bitch! Look at my sodding roots! You stole my bloody bleach and Sebastian nearly wouldn’t let me perform!’

With a cry of fury she set about Jo, kicking and punching her mercilessly and knocking her to the ground. Jo’s evening bag flew open. Dozens of black marbles, and a few spare red ones, taken from the Infirmary toy-box and carefully painted with Sheraleen’s best scarlet nail polish, flew out, rolling everywhere. There was a stunned silence as people stood stock still, transfixed.

One of the spare red marbles stopped at Titus’s feet. He bent down and picked it up and examined it closely. It was completely smooth.

But red marbles should be etched with the peony! This was how the judges were able to choose their marbles in the dark, and how Jo had managed to switch tokens whilst pickpocketing the XXXIX.

Unbeknownst to them, most of them had been carrying two red marbles; one authentic and engraved, one fake - completely smooth. In choosing the smooth marble, they thought they were voting for death.

Titus scraped at the red colouring, revealing the ordinary glass marble beneath.

Cries of ‘Fix!’ echoed around the room. Lethe looked thunderous and screamed, ‘Seize that girl!’ and then the explosion happened, right on time.

The entire Roundhouse shook as security guards converged upon Jo. Their efforts to seize her were foiled as they all fell about on the scattered marbles. Another bigger explosion, now, nearer than the first and the room was plunged into darkness.

‘Come with me,’ said Smokey to Jo, appearing out of nowhere.

‘What the hell is happening?’ she asked as he quickly led her to the shelter of the podium.

‘No time to explain. I didn’t expect you to be here causing trouble.’ He looked at her with incredulity. ‘Seriously, that was your plan? A game of marbles? Just stay here and stay quiet.’ And with that, Smokey leapt back into the chaos of the darkened ballroom.

As Titus barked orders at VMN soldiers to find out what was happening, Smokey delivered a lightning punch to Sebastian, knocking him instantly unconscious and grabbing the keys. Meanwhile the King and Queen and other dignitaries were being ushered to safety. The guests all panicked and fled the scene. Soon there were just a few unconscious bystanders and Smokey, Jo, Ali and Quinn left. Smokey ran to Quinn and began to unlock his restraints. He shifted his weight to carry his listless mentor and threw Jo the keys. She ran to Ali and put the key in the lock to the cage.

‘Stop right there!’ came the voice of the King. He strode back into the ballroom, ignoring those trying to move him to safety. Queen Lethe, Lord Oleander and his royal guards stood with him.

Paul stared through the gloom at Jo. His voice shook with anger and disbelief. ‘Can it be true? Jocasta? Not only risen but…’ His voice cracked as he struggled to go on. He made himself speak. ‘My daughter and my sister-in-law? Both traitors?’

Armed guards seized Jo and Smokey and secured Quinn back to the wall. Lethe, transfixed, stalked towards Jo and eyed her critically with eyes full of both hope and horror, until finally, her gaze fell upon Ali.

‘No, my love, our dear Jocasta is dead. It appears that we have a niece. I would have preferred a more seemly introduction.’

Queen Lethe the First paused for a moment, shaking with anger, then she turned the full glare of her wrath onto Jo.

‘Imagine, you foolish young woman, how wonderful your life would have been if I had been your benefactor. In other circumstances I would have taught you how to operate successfully in the world, showing you the possibilities and riches my sister treats with such contempt.  You could have been a companion for Jocasta and Hawk. Instead you will die tonight with your treacherous mother and one of her many lovers. You have been caught red-handed trying to pervert the course of justice but your tawdry plot has failed.’

Jo managed a defiant croak. ‘This is not justice.’

‘Stay silent, dear.’ The speaker was Ali, her voice barely audible. Jo looked into her eyes, and for the first time tonight those eyes were blurred with tears. ‘Whoever you are, don’t give her the satisfaction of dignifying her dross with your gold.’

Lethe rattled the bars of the cage in rage. ‘Silence! Don’t say a word!’

Then Ali laughed. She turned to Jo. ‘You heard the lady. Don’t
say
a word!’ Then she painfully rasped the opening lines of an old, well-loved song.

Hush, little baby, don’t say a word,

Papa’s gonna buy you a mocking bird…

If that mocking bird don’t sing

Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring

Her voice trembling, Jo came in on the next line.

If that diamond ring is brass

Papa’s gonna buy you a looking glass

Their voices grew stronger and the two of them held their heads high, touching hands and staring down the baying mob.

Despite her bravado, Jo felt almost lightheaded with fear. She forced herself to sing, but a guard punched her in the face, knocking her off balance. ‘Shut it,’ he snarled. For a moment she blacked out.

When she came to Titus Stigmurus had returned, his face grave. ‘They’ve taken the Shield,’ he reported.

‘What?!’ yelled the King and Queen in unison. ‘The Shield?’

‘That’s right,’ laughed Smokey. ‘We’ve won.’

The nearest guard went to beat him but Titus bade him stop. Instead he approached the boy who had never known the identity of his true father and said, ‘You have indeed. I yield, Sir.’

For a fleeting moment something strange passed between Titus and Smokey as they faced each other; a ghost of a memory, perhaps; maybe a sense of recognition that vanished like smoke.

The moment passed. Lethe was beside herself with indignation. ‘Kill him!’ she screamed. Titus just looked at her and said, ‘There is no point, your Majesty. We’re all going to die.’

Jo looked at Smokey in wonder. ‘What have you done?’

The partygoers were slowly returning to the hall. Smokey savoured the moment and addressed the gathering. ‘All of your eyes were on this place tonight, which made it the perfect opportunity for Zebo and his Ferals to break into Titus’s laboratory. They’ve taken control of the nanites and given them new orders.’

The King gasped with pain and looked at his hand. The skin was starting to blister and peel. Various moans and cries erupted from the XXXIX and their families as they too, started to burn.

‘Right now
our
new nanites are working their little robot socks off making the Underground into a habitable paradise. The explosions you heard were Righteous strikes against the Vermin. Brenda and her team will have liberated all of the workers by now and should be well on their way to shuttling them beneath the surface.’ As he spoke, red rainclouds gathered around the Roundhouse, striking the rooftop with hard rain and flashes of lightning.

‘Your shield is gone. The poisons it kept at bay are now working their way into your blood. And unlike the Righteous and the poor you’ve been using as slave labour, you have no immunities.’

Jo found herself wondering if she had any immunity. Then she watched, appalled, as with a low moan, the Queen staggered and was sick. As she steadied her crown her beautiful hair came away in great tufts. From the wall, Quinn started to chuckle.

‘They can’t take the heat.’

The radiation was slowly doing its work. Years of living in sheltered isolation had given the rich a false sense of security. Money had bought them power, and power had given them control. But no amount of money or power could save them now, and fear swept among them, as invisible as the nuclear contamination. Lesions and growths swiftly appeared across the faces of the Elite and many of them fell unconscious as others began vomiting uncontrollably. Even so, they were determined to deny their enemy any satisfaction. Jo watched in horror as Lord Oleander, cool and cruel to the last, took aim at Quinn.

Then to her astonishment Jo thought she glimpsed a familiar figure pushing his way through the crowd – someone she had feared she would never see again. It was Matthew!

Quinn looked at Ali one last time.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, babe. Would that I could. But at least we die together. I lo…’

Ali howled out in anguish as Oleander shot Quinn dead. He turned and placed the gun to the back of Smokey’s head and pulled the trigger again.

Jo felt her knees weaken as she and Ali were frog-marched through the crowd. As she passed Mirabel the old woman hissed, ’All that bleedin’ work wasted. Should have known you weren’t the real deal.’

Lucy lurched up to her and spat in her face. Prince Hawk landed a spiteful kick, followed by a punch to her solar plexus that nearly winded her.

Weeping softly, Sheraleen pushed through the crowd and tenderly wiped Jo’s face. Mirabel pulled her away roughly.

Lord Oleander signalled the guards to stop. He came close enough to whisper lewdly in Jo’s ear. ‘Despite the considerable expense, I would have preferred deflowering you, ma chérie, but executions have their own unique, erotic charge. I anticipate your imminent death with exquisite pleasure tinged with just a scintilla of lustful regret.’ He drew Jo’s hand to his moist, red lips. She watched with horrified fascination as the radiation sickness crept across his skin.

Nothing to lose,
thought Jo. ‘Death probably trumps sex with you,’ she said and was pleased to see that her words had some sting, wiping the supercilious sneer from Lord Oleander’s lecherous, reptilian face. Ali caught the gist of what was happening, and to Jo’s immense satisfaction swung her chains and sent Oleander flying, blood and teeth spurting from his mouth. As the guards converged on Ali she shrugged theatrically. ‘So shoot me,’ she smiled, and Jo laughed out loud.

And all the time Matthew was getting closer.

Another tremendous burst of lightning struck the Roundhouse, causing great chunks of the ceiling to cave in. Many of the XXXIX and VMN were crushed by the debris. Titus looked to the sky above as his poison rain began to fall into the arena and he wept for all that he had done.