The Mortal Knife (13 page)

And at last Chloe had managed to pair up with Ciaron. Adam watched him sourly without knowing why. Ciaron was just too sickeningly perfect. He was tall and broad-shouldered with wavy dark hair and the heroic good looks of some mythological Irish king. He could just imagine Ciaron guiding people onto the Unknown Roads with that lilting accent  …  He probably managed to make the directions sound like poetry.

Still, at least Chloe looked happy. She was chatting animatedly, her cheeks flushed. And Ciaron was listening to her, nodding and grinning with those perfect white teeth. Elise had spotted them too and was frowning slightly as she danced with Rashid, an Indian Luman who was one of the youngest Curators. Adam smirked. She was trapped for now and Chloe could enjoy her dance without interruption.

But after another few dances Adam was getting restless. The ballroom was heaving and the air was hot. There were no windows in the underground room and Adam began to feel stifled. The music was so loud it was hard to make conversation with his dance partner without putting his mouth right against her ear – and he didn't want her to get the wrong idea. The only girl he really wanted here was the one person he would never be allowed to bring into his world – and that was Melissa.

The dance ended. His dance partner's disappointed face only piqued his resentment. Worse still he could see that Darian had finally managed to get his hands on Elise and was pulling her in much closer than was considered polite. Adam frowned, hoping that the ceremonial swords didn't end up coming out to play.

The final nail in the coffin was hearing a French accent calling his name. ‘Adam! My dance! It is time for our next dance,
oui
?' Marianne was fighting her way towards him. For someone so dainty she was moving like a rhino through the reeds, barging through the gathered Lumen. Even thinking about another dance and her not-so-subtle hints was making Adam feel light-headed.

He needed air. Pretending not to see her (and feeling only a tiny bit guilty), Adam turned on his heel and fled.

It took a few minutes to weave and dodge through the crowds but finally Adam found himself outside the Oath Chamber. The air was cooler here but he had a desperate urge to be above ground for a while. The corridor behind him was empty and he darted up the stairs and through the cellar doors, emerging on the lawn in the shadow of the yew trees.

There was a terrifying growl – followed, thankfully, by a happy yelp of recognition. Sam and Morty bounded towards him, their tails wagging madly. They had been left above ground on sentry duty and they were happy to see him, sniffing at his pockets for treats. Adam petted them roughly, basking in their simple, undemanding affection. They didn't care that he wasn't smooth with the ladies, or that he was a rubbish Luman. They just adored him. It was nice to have some true fans.

He set off across the grass, round the side of the house towards the kitchen door, planning to get them something tasty from the fridge. Just as he reached the back door Morty stopped and went still. He gave a low growl and stared into the darkness towards the paddock.

Adam hesitated, his hand on the kitchen door handle. He shouldn't have left the party – but maybe he wasn't the only one who'd needed some fresh air. Was Marianne
that
desperate to claim her dance? He squinted into the darkness, wondering whether to make a run for it or go back and accept his fate gracefully.

Morty growled again and this time Sam joined him. The weird thing was that neither dog set off in pursuit of whatever was bothering them. Sam's growl tailed off into a whine – and with a start Adam realised that they were afraid.

There was a sudden, soft crunch of footsteps on the gravel drive up ahead of him. A shadow passed along the hedge; a dark figure, cloaked in black. Morty gave a small yelp of terror and both dogs turned on their heels and fled back towards the front of the house.

Adam stood rigid with shock. The wolfhounds weren't just family pets; they were working dogs, trained to herd souls in the Hinterland. They weren't easily spooked – but something was scaring them so badly they had abandoned him in the darkness. For a moment he hesitated, wondering if he should return to the party and get some back-up – but then he was going to have to explain why he was above ground in the first place and listen to Elise's lecture on good manners. He'd rather face whatever unknown terror was waiting in the darkness.

Still, it would have been nice to have some company. ‘Thanks a lot,' he muttered over his shoulder at the dogs, who were no doubt hunkered down somewhere safe by now.

He moved stealthily along the hedge, trying to walk lightly on the gravel, listening for any sounds – but the figure had disappeared into the paddock and their footsteps were muffled on the long grass. As he reached the end of the hedge, he hesitated. Who was there? It might be a Luman – but then why would they be sneaking about above ground? His immediate distrustful thought was that Darian was up to no good – but there was no way Darian would miss out on his dance with Elise.

He moved across the grass in silence, wishing he had his ceremonial cloak on. His white shirt was like a beacon in the darkness. He paused between the yews, listening for any sound but all he could hear was the hiss of the night breeze through the leaves and grass.

The last thing he expected was the voice right behind him.

I have waited for you, Adam Mortson.'

Adam spun round and backed away in one stumbling motion, frightened and furious at getting caught. He'd turned from hunter to prey in the blink of an eye. He squinted into the darkness, searching for a shadow. ‘Who's there? Show yourself!'

There was the faintest trace of movement in front of him. ‘Do not be afraid. I mean you no ill will.'

Adam frowned. Hearing the voice again  …  he was sure he'd heard it before. It was a woman's voice, soft and pleasant – although still pretty freaky in the dark. ‘Who are you? How do you know me?'

His eyes were adjusting to the light now and this time he saw a definite movement; an arm rising through the air. At the same time the faintest hint of a glow appeared, illuminating a hand. The glow spread, casting a pale light on a figure in front of him – small, hooded in a black cloak, just the tips of her blonde hair shimmering beneath the heavy fabric.

Adam stared, for once speechless. He was having trouble believing what he was seeing – or rather who he was seeing. ‘You're  …  I know you. You're that Fate!'

The woman smiled, just as she had at the Summoning – shyly. ‘Yes. I am Clotho, the spinner.'

Adam wanted to shake his head until his eyes rattled and the world made sense again. ‘But  …  you're here.'

Clotho nodded. ‘I am but I cannot linger long. We must speak, Adam Mortson. Not here and not now.' She pulled her other hand from her cloak, fast enough to make Adam flinch back instinctively – but when he looked again she was offering him a small green glass bead. ‘You must come to my realm. We can talk in safety there.'

Adam hesitated before he took the glass. She must be mad, coming here in the middle of a coming of age ball with so many Lumen gathered together. What would she have done if he hadn't come above ground? Would she have gone down into the ballroom? It would have caused a stampede. ‘How did you know you would find me here? Outside, I mean.'

Clotho looked uneasy. ‘I am tarrying too long, Adam Mortson. Come to my realm. I will answer your questions there.'

Adam shook his head. ‘No. I'm not going anywhere. How did you find me?' A thought occurred to him. ‘Did you do something to me? Did you
make me
come up into the garden?'

Clotho sighed. ‘I did not force you to speak with me. I merely  …  influenced you.'

Adam stared at her. For some reason her words were making him feel a little bit sick. ‘I thought I was doing it myself,' he said slowly. ‘You shouldn't have done that.'

For a second Clotho looked stricken. ‘Forgive me. My time is short. You are in danger. There was no other way.'

Adam felt his heart leap. ‘What do you mean I'm in danger?' He backed away a little, his mind racing.
She knew!
She knew about the bomber and the bus girl and the homeless man and the car driver! She knew that he had saved them and now she had come to kill him! ‘I'm not going anywhere with you!'

Clotho was breathing quickly. She hunched over a little, clutching at her chest. ‘I wish to help you, Adam Mortson. I will do what I can to protect you.' She put her other hand on her stomach and groaned softly.

Adam frowned. She didn't look like a threat; she looked sick. If anyone was in danger right now it seemed to be her. ‘Are you all right?'

Clotho straightened up although it seemed to take a lot of effort. ‘I dare not linger. Let me help you. Come to me, in my realm. I will do all I can to save you. Save your family.' Her voice was getting weaker and the light around her was fading.

Adam blinked at her, confused and alarmed. ‘But when? When will I come?'

‘Soon.' The word was a whisper as the last of her light disappeared. ‘Come soon.'

Adam squinted into the darkness but his night vision was gone. And by the time he could see anything Clotho was gone too.

Adam's head was swimming. How was he going to go back to the party? He'd only had a glass of champagne to toast Aron, otherwise he might have wondered whether this was all some kind of drunken dream.

As he crossed the lawn he struggled to get his thoughts in order. Clotho had taken a big chance coming here tonight and she seemed to want to help him. But who was out to get him? And why? It must be because he'd been interfering with the Fates – but if that was the case, why hadn't Clotho just killed him there and then?

His dark thoughts were interrupted by a shadow moving on the lawn. Adam's heart sank. Who else was lying in wait for him? But as he inched closer he recognised the figure draped in shimmering cloth.

Chloe jumped – then relaxed. ‘Oh, it's you. Don't tell on me!'

‘I won't.' Adam eyed her curiously. ‘What are you doing up here?'

‘Same thing as you, I expect,' Chloe said. ‘Taking a break.' She was holding something dangling from her fingers. After a moment's squinting Adam recognised the dull glimmer of her gold sandals.

‘I thought you'd be downstairs dancing with Ciaron.'

Chloe scowled. ‘I can only dance so long. You try waltzing all night in high heels.'

Adam winced at the thought. He was enough of a liability on the dance floor in flat shoes. ‘It's good, isn't it? The party.'

Chloe shrugged. ‘I guess. So good we're both hiding up here.'

Adam stared at her. Chloe was holding the hem of her dress off the ground. In the faint light from the stairwell below Adam could just see her bare toes wiggling in the grass. Her feet must have been freezing.

‘I thought you liked all this stuff. Dresses and dancing and meeting Lumen.'

‘It's not like I have much choice, is it? So it doesn't matter if I like it or not, I still have to do it.' Chloe looked at Adam and something in his expression made her laugh a little bitterly. ‘You don't get it, do you Adam? You spend all your time running away, pretending you're not a Luman – but that's all I've ever wanted to be.'

Adam frowned. ‘You only think that. You've never been on a job. You don't know what it's like.'

‘And I never will, will I?' Chloe snapped. ‘What's so hard about it? It's just swooping. And telling people where they have to go on the Unknown Roads. It's not rocket science.'

She made it sound so easy – and for most Lumen it was. Their father and brothers just got the job done. They didn't mess things up or complicate things by worrying about saving people. That's why they were good Lumen and he wasn't. That's why Chloe would be a good Luman too, Adam realised. She had something he didn't: a kind of detachment. In the end she just accepted the rules the way everyone else did. ‘It's not as easy as you think,' he said at last. ‘You make it sound simple but it's not.'

Chloe sighed. ‘Of course it's simple, Adam. Just not for you.' She shook her head, frustrated. ‘Funny, isn't it? You're the one who doesn't want to be a Luman – but I'm the one standing here dressed up like a doll.
You
should be the one worrying about dancing and getting betrothed.'

Adam stared at her. He never really talked to Chloe properly. She was just his little sister. Somehow in the last few months she had started growing up and he hadn't even noticed. It was weird how you could live in the same house as someone and still feel like you didn't really know them at all. He tried to make a joke of things. ‘Well, I'm not very good at dancing either.'

‘I guess not,' Chloe said. ‘Don't tell anyone I'm up here. I just need a break. I'll be down in a minute.' Before he could say anything she was walking away into the darkness, swinging her sandals just a little too hard.

The party was deemed a great success by everyone who mattered. After the last guests left, a buoyant Elise led the way back to the house, her face triumphant. Nathanial had a calm glow of satisfaction – tempered by the fact that his death sense flared within just a few minutes. Clearly Morta had been itching to get back to work. Aron volunteered to do the job on his own as a newly qualified Luman but was told to enjoy one last night in bed to get over the shock of the Marking. Luc and Auntie Jo had enjoyed the ladies and the food respectively and even the dogs went to their pens happy, having recovered from their scare.

Only Adam and Chloe seemed to have had any reservations about the whole evening. For Adam this was no shock; he was used to feeling like the odd one out in his family. Still, it had never occurred to him that Chloe might feel the same way. Of course she made the occasional pointed remark about becoming a Luman – although not in front of Elise – but Adam had always assumed she was happy to set off along the well-trodden path of betrothal, marriage and running a Luman home. Now he wasn't so sure.

He spent Sunday helping with the great clear-up while Aron did his first solo jobs and Nathanial slept off the exhaustion of the prior weeks. Some of the Lumen wives and daughters had returned to help – including Aron's dance partner from the previous night. Thankfully there was no sign of Marianne. Adam didn't have time to think about dodging her – he was too busy worrying about when and how he was going to go and see Clotho. Last time he had been in the Realm of the Fates he had never really felt in
danger
but he couldn't forget his father's tension or the creeping sense of menace in the Hinterland – the feeling that they weren't alone. It wasn't souls freaking him out but something else. He needed information and he knew who would help him.

He picked his moment carefully, when Auntie Jo had sidled off to the kitchen for a break. Adam muttered something about getting them all more silver polish and scarpered. When he opened the back door into the kitchen he found Auntie Jo at the table, with her hip flask angled over a steaming cup of coffee. ‘You caught me,' she said with a guilty grin and took a swig from the flask. ‘I needed a break from all the competitive polishing.'

Adam grinned and sat down opposite her. ‘Yeah, Chloe's stuck there with them. Mother doesn't seem to care too much what Luc and I do. We've put away all the chairs.'

‘Oh well, a Luman girl needs to know how to get a high shine on silver cutlery. It's an essential life skill.' Auntie Jo rolled her eyes.

Adam studied her and tried once again to imagine Auntie Jo as a teenager. It was impossible – seeing her younger and slimmer with tidy clothes and tidy hair and plans to get betrothed – but he'd seen the locket. The man inside was still a mystery. The whole
thing
was a mystery and awkward and thus avoided by everyone. Even now Adam found himself pretending Auntie Jo's drunken tears had never happened. Presumably no one would mention it or even think about it again until the following year. Hopefully Nathanial would be at home next time.

Auntie Jo raised an eyebrow and Adam realised he was still staring at her. He cleared his throat and said quickly, ‘Chloe didn't seem to enjoy it much last night.'

Auntie Jo sighed. ‘Of course she didn't enjoy it Adam. It's a glorified cattle market. Why would she enjoy it? Your sister isn't stupid you know.'

‘I know.' Adam hesitated, seeing his opportunity – then took the plunge. ‘I know she can't be a Luman but maybe she could do something else. You know, like become  …  a Fate.'

Auntie Jo choked on her coffee. After she recovered she gave him a long look. ‘I wouldn't wish that on her either,' she said quietly. ‘The Fates make their own sacrifices. No family, no friends, seeing all the people you love walking the Unknown Roads long before you can ever follow  … ' She shivered, tailing off.

‘Are there other people there too? In the Realm of the Fates?'

‘Not living there. They don't need helpers. They have their work to do and they get on with it.'

‘But who made all the food and stuff?' Adam remembered the buffet table. Somehow he couldn't imagine Morta wearing an apron and washing grapes.

‘Things work differently there,' was all Auntie Jo said.

Adam realised he was going to have to be direct. ‘It's just that when we going there  …  you and Father seemed a bit nervous. So I thought there might be someone else living there. In the Hinterland.'

Auntie Jo gave him a beady look. ‘Sometimes you actually notice more than we give you credit for.' She shrugged. ‘I suppose it doesn't matter now. You'll probably never go to the Realm of the Fates again or not until you're much older.' She lowered her voice even though they were alone. ‘The way Lumen normally see the Hinterland protects them and protects the Hinterland itself. You see it as an overlay on the physical world. But when you see the Hinterland as it really is then a kind of clock starts. The Hinterland is guarded, to stop people just roaming about.'

‘By what?' Adam felt a mixture of triumph and terror. So there
had
been something there, watching them. No wonder the normally cool Nathanial had seemed rattled.

Auntie Jo hesitated. ‘Nothing you need to worry about.' As Adam opened his mouth to protest she raised a quelling hand. ‘I don't know Adam. Lumen don't hang about long enough to meet the Hunter who guards the Hinterland. Trust me, you don't want to see it. That's why very young children are kept out of the Hinterland. Ironically they find it easier to see the Hinterland as it truly is. Their minds haven't started to close to other possibilities. They don't cling to the physical world the way older Lumen do. And as soon as one person in a group sees the true Hinterland, the Hunter becomes aware of their presence. It's like a timer starts. There was an awful tragedy a long time ago, where a little one must have seen the true Hinterland and not told anyone. A whole Luman family were taken.'

Adam stared at her in horror. ‘When you say
taken
– what does that even mean? Where did they go? And what
is
the Hunter?'

‘Nobody knows, Adam. And it doesn't matter.' Auntie Jo cleared her throat and reached for a restorative swig of whisky. ‘You'll probably never need to worry about it again. You did well getting there. Put it from your mind.'