A Hawk In Silver Part 8

"You. You're evidence that this is on the level. I told Dodo you lived this end of London Road, and that we'd be outside waiting."

"Oh, Christine!"

Holly laughed. "You're a b.l.o.o.d.y incredible liar!"

"That's right, and a twenty-four carat genius as well. Now move it."

The van rattled, banged, b.u.mped and jolted its way up to Hallows Hill, and finally pulled up at the junction of Churchill Road and Ashmore Street, on the Surcombe side of the railway bridge.

"Suit?"

"Sure; thanks, Ross. Hate to drag you out, but you know how it is..." While Chris leaned on the driver's side of the van and chatted, Holly, Fletcher, and Dodo unloaded the Harp.

"You want any more help?" Dodo pushed her gla.s.ses more firmly on her nose. She was a short plump girl some two years younger than Holly, and she wore pink jeans and a white sweat-s.h.i.+rt. Dark blonde hair cut short and scruffy framed around face. "I'm not doing anything to-night."

Holly prevaricated. "It's only from here to the end of the road. Thanks, but it's not worth your while."

"Aw, OK. You can tell me later what you're really up to."

"Do what?"

"Oh, don't worry, not yet. Finish whatever it is you're doing. But I didn't hoik Ross out of the garage on a Sat.u.r.day just to listen to one of Chris Ivy's fairy stories."

Holly nodded, noncommital. She thought: Fairy stories! If you only knew.... She remembered that, once out of a hook, Dodo was a smart kid.

Chris finished talking, and a chorus of thanks and farewells sent the van on its way.

"Time?" Holly looked down from the bridge to the marshes; a long slope with no cover.

"Coming up for twenty past. We ought to just make it."

They got the Harp over into the field, and then had to rest. Holly stared round in exhaustion. The modern town, busy and dusty, lay on her left; on her right the silence of the marshes and the Downs. In front, the sea took up all the southern horizon, turning sullenly dark under the gliding shadows of clouds. The horizon was sharp indigo, save where the sun dipped low and laid a glittering path across the water. Surf grumbled. The sea was rising.

"It is well that we covered the Harp. Look." Fletcher pointed to gulls wheeling between the sea and the marsh. "They have seen, but may do nothing now."

Holly noted he had reverted to elukoi ways. There was a fierce triumph in him. She and Chris shared it for a moment: the realisation of success.

I never thought we'd do it. Oh, I'd like to see Elathan's face when we turn up with this. Throw us out, would he? We'll show him.

In that second she was convinced all would go well; they would deliver up the Harp, Mathurin would play, the Hollow Hills would stand against the sea-people, Eilunieth would recover, the Starlord would come...

Holdfast, who had kept close and quiet in the van, loped down into the field and barked.

"Seek out the rest to help me; Greyeyes, if she be there, and Starkweather." He knelt to check the knots as the hound sped away.

"We could get it down there on our own, surely? Chris was troubled. "Is it OK to let them know?"

"Someone must move the Harp; it may not be a human." He had retreated into an elukoi reserve. "Did you think there would be any but elukoi at the summoning? We are in your debt and I will tell all, but go now. I'll come later and bear news.

Go now."11 Midsummer "Are you telling us to go now? After all we've b.l.o.o.d.y well done?" Chris was so angry she couldn't say anything else.

Fletcher said quietly, "There's a storm coming up from the sea. Tanaquil Seahawk seeks to know if we are strong enough to send it back. When the Starlord comes, we will be. Watch for a clear sky. I'll come later."

Chris stalked away, her face tight. Holly followed. After a minute she asked, "Where are we going?"

"I don't know. As far from here as I can get. I'm gonna catch the first b.l.o.o.d.y bus that comes along, and I don't care where it's going."

It was a number 447 bus and it took them straight to the Old Town.

"Wonder how long before we know?"

"Shouldn't be long." Holly tilted her head back. The clouds were no longer pa.s.sing, but ma.s.sing darkly overhead. The sun still held clear, westering low down on the sea. It was a sultry and uncomfortable evening. "Anyway, what we gonna do?"

"I dunno-what d'you wanna do?"

"Hang around, I guess."

Holly's disappointment had pa.s.sed. She began to feel almost n.o.ble. She thought that not many people would so unselfishly leave the scene of their triumph... at which point she snorted with laughter, having realised it was a choice between going or being thrown out again. She did not tell Chris what amused her.

"It wasn't his fault, you know."

"Who, Fletcher?" Chris frowned, then conceded, "No, I guess not. He just does what Elathan tells him."

"You reckon?"

"He does. He's got no guts."

"You're only saying that because you're narked."

They paused at the junction of South Street with the seafront. Chains of neon looped from the lamp-posts, pale against the sunset. Out of the mainstream of the crowd, they leaned against the wall by the amus.e.m.e.nt arcade, listen-ing to the squeals and laughter, the clink of machines and money.

"Think we managed that pretty well, don't you? I ask you, though; harps and magic."

Holly turned from the lights, caught the expression of wry disgust on Chris's face. Her fine fair hair had gone into sweaty tendrils across her damp forehead, and she had undone the top two b.u.t.tons of her blouse. It was oppressive... "Thought you were the one that didn't believe in magic?"

"I don't. I worked it out in their terms, that's all. I 'spect they went through the caverns so fast they didn't even see the Harp. Or else the morkani have something scientific that no one else has."

"Scientific-" Holly shook her head. You use that word like a talisman. Then she was aware of laughter behind her.

"Ah, look who's here. Aren't they effin' sweet?"

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l." Chris groaned under her breath. "That's all I need. Gabriel."

Not only Helen Gabriel, Holly noted, but Diane Cooper as well, her thin face alive with malicious excitement. She and Gabriel pushed either side of Holly and Chris, blocking their way. Gabriel c.o.c.ked her head sideways; a bullfighter considering the first thrust-where would it hurt most?

To Holly: "What you down 'ere for? Come to draw more of your pretty little pictures?"

Cheap b.i.t.c.h. Cheap. Holly noted her tight fas.h.i.+onable clothes. Like she is. h.e.l.l. How do we get out of this?

"There's only two of 'em." Chris-a whisper. "Let's get lost, we don't want trouble."

"Sugar that. I ain't running."

Gabriel grinned, tried again. "The holly an' the ivy... whatcha doing down this way? You gone on the game, have you?"

"Why, are we on your beat?" Pleased with her own wit, Chris added, "There's a funny smell round here, Holly. I think it's the rats..."

The tall girl smiled sickly-sweet, nudged Diane and the two vanished into the amus.e.m.e.nt hall. Holly bit her lip.

"Something tells me the rest of her lot's in there-maybe that biker gang she goes round with. Shall we scat?"

"What the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l for?"

"Look, Chris, you wanna be around to meet Fletch, don't you?"

"...I guess. h.e.l.l! Why'd that b.i.t.c.h hafta be here? OK. Go back and up behind the church; wait on the West Hill."

They retraced their steps up South Street. The Old Town was growing noisier, raucous music spilling from open pub doors; holiday voices resounding across the narrow street. A sudden wind brought Holly the familiar warm smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Above the slate roofs the storm light grew yellower, and the shadows inched eastwards.

Just before the church Chris caught Holly's arm, steering her on up the road.

"Don't look back. When I say, we'll scoot round the corner and nip over the churchyard wall. Lay low and they'll lose us."

"Gabriel?" Fear clenching fist-like in her gut, heated with a slow anger.

"Her, Cooper, Cath, couple o' fellas. 'Bout thirty feet behind and coming up fast-OK, go!"

"Christ, that girl, that b.l.o.o.d.y girl-"

"Go!"

Holly forced herself into a heavy-legged run. Feet clattered behind as they turned up Church Road, and she heard Gabriel's excited shout. Then they were round the corner and briefly out of sight.Chris vaulted the low stone wall a yard ahead of Holly, turned and pulled her down behind one of the lichenous flat-topped tombs. Holly pressed herself flat in the long gra.s.s, shaking with fury. She thought, How dare they? How dare they?

She hardly breathed. In the road she heard a shuffle of feet, then voices.

"The little sods, they've gone." Helen Gabriel.

"Up the pa.s.sage?" A voice Holly didn't know.

"Ah, leave it. 'S not worth the fuss." Another unknown, male.

"Shaddap, you. OK, check the pa.s.sage an' the road. They ain't far. Then we'll go-if I say so. G.o.d, I hate them. But I can get 'em on Monday. I'll b.l.o.o.d.y smash 'em."

Departing footsteps. Chris and Holly did not move. Helen spoke.

"Hang about, Di. They're hid up someplace here, I bet."

"Jesus, girl! Drop it, can't you?"

"Sod off. I got an idea."

Holly heard a foot sc.r.a.pe on stone, then the swish of parting gra.s.s. Chris's voice was no more than a warm breath by her ear: "Only two. Get out 'fore the rest come back."

"I'm with you. When?"

"Now!"

Holly sprang up and scrambled over the tomb, Chris beside her. She landed, stumbled, was caught by Diane, pushed past her and then skidded to an agonised halt, with the girl's fist knotted in her hair. She lashed back with her foot, felt a solid contact, and was free.

Shouted obscenities, a scuffle: Chris with Diane.

In front of her now, Helen, half-crouching, arms wide. She hesitated, but fear made her vicious. She slammed a foot at the girl's stomach-Gabriel dodged, took it on the hip- they closed and fell in a tangle.

Got her! Holly knew she was better at wrestling.

A fist drove at her stomach. She blocked it. Gabriel caught both her wrists and bore down. They went flat in the gra.s.s, damp earth pressing between Holly's shoulder-blades. Helen's face obscured her vision; cheek, lip, open panting mouth and uneven teeth, no more than inches away. She could only see one eye; thickly mascara'd lashes, a line of pale blue eye-shadow blurred by sweat; the eye itself expressionless because so close.

One foot sc.r.a.ped her s.h.i.+n. She hooked her own legs round Gabriel's; they strained against each other. The girl's head dipped lower. Holly pulled her face away from the frizzy perfumed hair. She could get no purchase.

Helen grunted, unable to free herself. Holly, in a spasm of hate, moved her head an inch and bit down hard on Gabriel's shoulder. The girl winced, swung her head sideways and Holly let go, stunned, seeing the wet imprint of her mouth on the blue cotton.

"You b.i.t.c.h!" She pressed up but still got no leverage. Helen's head dropped out of her line of vision. She felt warm breath on her neck, then the skull grinding her collarbone as Gabriel writhed forward and freed her legs. She felt a knee on her ribs, then it slid to her stomach and drove in hard.

She arched twice, convulsively, like a landed fish and threw the girl bodily off her. Violence drained out of her, leaving only impotent hate.

"I'll get you-"

Holly froze, half-sitting, watching the inevitable happen. Gabriel, rolling away, came up hard against the railings of a grave. Pencil-thin railings, but iron; rusted through at the base, and loose.

And the girl came upright with the length of iron in her hand, swinging it round like a stick, in a hard, fast arc. Holly heard the hiss as it cut the air and jerked back as it spanged viciously off a headstone.

A chip of marble grazed her forehead. The blow had left a white scar down the stone itself. Holly, empty-handed, panicked and scrambled up to run. Her heel caught in the knotted gra.s.s and she sprawled flat on her back again, knocked breathless, as Helen's arm swung up- It cut through the air, through the noise of traffic and her own yell; keen and clear and loud. A wild note, it was: a calling and a summons, beating in the air round them. Gabriel let the railing fall and clapped her hands over her ears. Holly caught her breath, had tears in her eyes; she knew beyond all doubt that this was the Harp of Math played by a master, and that nothing called by this could fail to answer.

It ended; the world came slowly back. Holly, seeing Gabriel's white face, thought, She heard it-but did she hear what we did?

The dark-haired girl lowered her hands, swaying a little, staring blankly past Holly. She licked her lips but did not speak.

Holly was out of the churchyard in a second, feet pounding the road, aware that Chris was beside her. In the High Street she stopped, wrenching air into her lungs, her anger subsiding. Chris stood with her, silently, trying to b.u.t.ton her blouse.

The top three b.u.t.tons had been torn off. In the confusion of her pockets Holly found a safety-pin to give her.

She heard a hollow rumble and saw an electric flicker out to sea. As she looked up between the houses she saw a white gull under-skimming the darkness, and all the gaps between the lurid clouds shut up like mouths. The sun was swallowed up as rain began to fall, leopard-spotting the dusty street.

She barely recognised Chris's voice when she said, "It didn't work. The Starlord didn't come."12 The Sea is Rising They waited an hour but there was no sign of Fletcher.

Holly rubbed stringy wet hair out of her face, the rain soaking through her thin s.h.i.+rt. The shop doorways and awn-ings were crowded with scantily-clad tourists. She could see little through the slanting rain and heard only the breath hissing in her throat, and the drains gulping the water down greedily.

When it eased, Chris said, "Let's go home. Nothing's going to happen."