Reuben stumbled back, almost knocked off his feet with the unexpected force of the blow. Pinky stepped forward, arms raised as if about to lunge at Silk but thought better of it when the bodyguard slipped between them.
“You bloody fools, I told you not to let her out of your sight.”
“But she’s just a girl,” argued Reuben, dabbing at a trickle of blood where Silk’s blow had broken the skin.
Ignoring him, Silk turned to his bodyguard and made several strange clicking sounds from his mouth. Tak-tak-tak. They sounded like the noises an insect might make, something other than human. The giant responded with clicks of his own before stomping towards the Molly. Elora felt the boat dip in the water as he stepped aboard.
“That girl is capable of tearing you and your men to shreds with the least effort. It’s a wonder you’re not dead already,” Silk said, glaring at Reuben.
The remark puzzled Elora. Did he have her confused with someone else? Hadn’t Reuben explained, she was just a girl?
A moment later the bodyguard reappeared with the body of her uncle slung over his shoulder. In her hiding place, Elora struggled to lift her head closer to the top of the bank, desperate to get a view of Nat. The bodyguard directed more of the strange clicking sounds at Silk, who clicked back. Nat was lowered to the ground where he sat, head slumping forwards. At least he seemed to be breathing, but his breath sounded slow and laboured. Elora longed to reach out to him.
“Where is she?” Silk asked. Nat lifted his head, blood dripping from a split lip, one eye swollen shut.
“She’s long gone, takwich,” he said, locking his good eye on the elderly man. Silk knelt with surprising agility. He gripped her uncle’s long hair in his bony fingers and pulled his head back. Elora fought hard not to scream.
“I will find her, Minuan. The barrier grows weaker day by day, and more and more brothers join my army. She will be ours very soon.”
“Never!” Nat spat out the word in a voice that Elora hardly recognised. “You’ll never find her. And I’ll welcome death with open arms before I tell you anything. She’s probably halfway to Thea as we speak.”
Silk grinned.
“My dear friend, I’m not going to kill you. I have something far more exotic in mind. And I will find her, be under no illusion. I very much doubt she’s bound for Thea. Only death would await her there, as you well know. You should have killed the girl when she was a child. Now, she will be mine, and there will be no stopping His coming ...”
Turning to the bodyguard, Silk gave several more clicks. The huge man hoisted her uncle on to his shoulder again, as if he was nothing more than a child, and headed towards the helicopter.
“Where’s Thea?” Reuben asked.
Silk ignored the question. “Find the girl,” he ordered.
“We need to leave. She’ll have found a phone by now and called the police,” Reuben cautioned.
“I hope she has called the police. I’ve already warned them. They’re expecting to hear from her.”
“You’ve got people on the inside?”
For a moment Silk didn’t reply. He stood in silence, gaze turned skywards. “You’ve failed me once already. That was a mistake. You make the same mistake again and that’s a problem. I deal with problems ... severely. Do you understand?”
“We won’t fail a second time, Mr Silk,” Reuben said, a nervous tremor slipping into his smooth voice.
“No, you won’t.”
Still clinging with numb fingers to the slimy canal wall, Elora watched the old man walk back towards the helicopter. A moment later and it was rising, squashing the corn flat as it ascended into the night. After agonising minutes in the icy water, she was frozen and exhausted. Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably, and she was terrified that Reuben or one his men would hear.
“Come on. We better find this bitch. I don’t think Mr Silk issues idle threats.”
She watched as Reuben and his two thugs set off along the canal bank. As soon as they were out of sight, she dragged herself along the bank clear of the Molly. With great effort she struggled onto the grassy bank and lay still for a moment, legs curled beneath her wet body as she tried to decide what to do next. Going to the police was not an option.
For the few remaining hours of darkness, Elora huddled in the corner of a shed on a nearby allotment. It wasn’t comfortable, but at least it was safe. Nobody was going to come looking for her here.
Fearing to stay on the Molly in case Reuben or his men returned, she had quickly darted back on board and snatched up a few belongings: a change of dry clothes, all the money she had - which wasn’t much - and Nat’s journal. That was when she had found herself glancing at the name ‘Shadojak’ with the telephone number scribbled underneath. Could this person help? Nat had warned her that he wasn’t somebody you’d want to meet, but from what he had told her, the Shadojak had helped them once before. Wasn’t it worth giving him a call? By the time the sun came up and filtered through the dusty shed window, she had made up her mind.
Coins bounced noisily into the phone box as she fed it a handful of coins and then dialled the Shadojak’s number.
The phone rang for almost a minute before being picked up. There was no sound at the other end, yet Elora had the feeling that somebody was there, listening.
“Hello? I need to speak to Shadojak.” A long silence followed. Elora’s fingers clutched the receiver anxiously. She was on the point of putting the phone down when a stern voice spoke at the other end.
“Who gave you this number?” The man’s accent was hard to place, slightly foreign-sounding.
“Is that Shadojak? Please, I need your help.”
“Who gave you this number?” The voice was as stern as before.
“My uncle. Nathaniel Delamere. He’s been kidnapped.”
“I don’t know the name.”
By now, Elora felt a growing anger but fought to control it: she had to keep calm. There was no point upsetting the only person who might be able to help.
“Your telephone number was in his journal.”
“It was copied down wrong, I can’t help you,” came the curt reply.
“Please,” she begged, before the speaker had time to hang up. “He’s been taken by a man called Silk. A takwich.”
There was a pause.
