He watched, horror-struck, as Silk pointed a bony finger at the dead bodies. “This is how I deal with problems. I warned you that.”
“But...” stammered Reuben but was cut short by Silk who silenced him with the same bony finger. Although he had no idea what he intended to say anyway, only that he needed to try and argue his way out.
“Silence you fool,” Silk shouted. Reuben’ s face burned as he felt all eyes on the table turn to him. The new Gerald even seemed amused with his plight. “Yet you may be of some small use to me.”
“Anything, Mr Silk. Just name it,” he said. He would agree to anything to get out of this nightmare.
Silk leaned closer, staring down his narrow, hook nose. “You are the only one here who has actually seen the girl, who knows what she looks like.”
Reuben nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. I could spot her a mile off. I could find her again. Mr Silk give me one more chance.”
“Oh, you will find her; I have no doubt about that Reuben. And to make sure you don’t fail me again, I will give you a – gift.”
Reuben saw the evil grin curling Silk’s lips and got the strangest feeling that he wouldn’t like this so-called gift. Others around the table also smiled as if they were all in on a practical joke. He let his eyes fall to the table, resigning himself to whatever fate Silk had planned and clung to the thought that at least he wouldn’t die, not yet. Then his gaze settled on the hideous scorpion. The lobster-sized spliceck was standing on the table, barely a foot away and staring at him with black soulless orbs. It tapped the polished table with one of its sharp pincers as if impatiently waiting for an order.
Then realisation hit Reuben. “No!”
Silk opened his mouth and made a single clicking sound and the spliceck shot forward with incredible speed, launching itself off the table and landing on Reuben’s face with enough force to knock him to the ground.
Reuben thudded onto his back and felt the weight of the creature pushing down on his bruised nose. The sharp points of its feet digging into his cheeks. He wanted to scream but with the creature securing itself over his mouth he daren’t open it.
Sharp pain pricked the back of his hand as he gripped the armoured shell in a futile attempt to pull it away. Its scorpion tail flicked its lethal stinger in him and piercing his skin as he struggled to locate the gun.
He opened his eyes in time to watch the spliceck’s head drop towards his face and its fearsome mandibles bite down into the open cut of his broken nose.
An explosion suddenly erupted in the back of his head as tears mixed with the blood that streamed down his face. A death curdling scream drowned out all other sounds, seeming far away as if he was in a separate place; removed from his body yet he recognised the voice to be his own.
His body shook violently. The scream cut off and was replaced with the banging of his head and limbs against the wooden floor. Yet blessedly there was no more pain. No suffering, as if his body simply switched off its own nervous system.
When he finally stopped convulsing, like Gerald had done before him, he felt a sensation of weightlessness, as if someone was lifting him. No, that wasn’t right. His body picked itself up and clumsily rose to its feet. His feet, like he was a passenger in his own body. His eyes swivelled towards Silk who was grinning maniacally.
Clicking noises echoed through his mind. Strangely he knew that it issued from his own mouth, yet he wasn’t the one speaking.
“Welcome brother,” Silk said.
Chapter 9
Moon Daisies and Fairy Circles
Elora awoke on the sofa and stretched the stiffness from the crick in her neck that she had acquired from sleeping in an uncomfortable position. With the back of her hand she wiped the grit from her eyes, focusing on the red glow of smouldering coals in the fire place: the only light in the cosy room, yet through the closed curtains she could see the outline of a grey dawn. Or was it a bright dawn failing to break through the veil of blackness that hovered around the building? She couldn’t tell which but guessed it was morning.
A mouth-watering smell of bacon and eggs drifted through the door, causing her belly to grumble in anticipation and erase the grogginess she felt from waking. She smiled as she crossed the corridor and entered the kitchen.
“Morning,” she offered, stifling a yawn. Norgie was at the Aga with his back to her and turned as she entered.
“Morning, Elora. Hungry?” he asked. She nodded, as Gurple appeared from beneath the table and came running towards her, feet padding frantically on the floor. She laughed as he collided with her legs and wrapped his furry arms around them.
She ruffled the thick fur on his head. “Morning Gurple,” she said as he took her by the hand and lead her to the table.
“Erora, sit. Bekfast,” he said in his gruff voice before padding towards Norgie.
“Think he likes you,” said the old man, chuckling. “How’d you like your eggs, runny?”
“Yes please. I haven’t had a good fry-up in ages,” she replied, trying to remember when Nat had last made breakfast for them. It must have been a few months back and everything was burnt. She did most of the cooking aboard the Molly. Nat’s skill in the kitchen was experimental at best. The memory made her sad.
“What time did Bray come back?” she broached, expecting that he returned earlier and was now asleep upstairs.
“He hasn’t come back yet,” Norgie answered, as he set down a huge plate of food.
Two eggs sat atop a slice of fried bread, crispy bacon curling up beside thick sausages smothered in baked beans. Two tomato halves, singed black with their skins peeling, were set amongst a variety of grilled mushrooms that were dressed in basil and peppers. Black pudding slices were arranged around the hash browns that partly hung over the edge of the crowded plate and threatened to fall onto the table.
“There’s plenty more if you’ve an appetite for it. Would you like juice or a cup of tea?”
She stared at the breakfast. “There’s more?”
Norgie let out a laugh. “Sorry lass. It is a bit much isn’t it? I’m used to feeding Bray and Diagus. Now those lads can eat.”
“Maybe a glass of juice will help wash this down,” she chuckled as Gurple climbed onto a chair next to her, his furry little feet just clearing the edge of the cushion. Norgie slid him closer to the table and placed a smaller plate containing a couple of sausages and a rasher of bacon in front of him. He was so low to the table that he was eye level with his breakfast, yet it didn’t hinder him any as he enthusiastically reached up and grasped a sausage and rammed it into his mouth.
“Where’s your manners Gurple? Use a fork,” Norgie rebuked.
Gurple stopped chewing and looked up at him apologetically, half the sausage hanging loose and ready to fall. Elora couldn’t help but laugh as she watched him try to stab it with a fork, but the motion of his arm caused the sausage to swing out of the way.
Norgie was chuckling too. “Just use your fingers before you stab yourself in the chin,” he said, placing down a jug of apple juice and an empty glass on the table. Elora poured herself a drink and took a deep gulp, wetting her throat before she attacked the plate.
Gurple had long ago finished his breakfast when Elora decided she couldn’t eat another mouthful. She set her knife and fork down leaving almost half the plate.
“I’m going to blame you Norgie, if I have a heart attack this afternoon from blocked arteries,” she said, smiling.
