Devil’s Kiss

10

‘Billi, wake up.’

Billi shuffled under her duvet. Was someone knocking at her door?

‘Wake up, sweetheart.’

She wiped her hair out of her face and found her clock.

4.15 a.m. She rubbed her eyes. Yes. 4.15 in the morning.

The knocking on her door became urgent.

‘Get up, you lazy squire. Immediately.’

‘Percy?’

The door opened and Percy switched on the light. Billi grimaced at the glaring brightness.

‘Ah, the princess awakes at last. Get dressed. Art wants you down at the church, like right now.’

‘What’s going on?’

‘Something important.’

They were all there. Arthur had sent word and they’d all come back that very night. He’d called a Council of War.

In the round of Temple Church stood nine chairs. High backed, engraved with ancient images of war and faith, they’d been arranged in a loose circle lit only by candlelight that flickered on the grim faces of the men that sat there. Thin ribbons of smoke spiralled from the candles into the lofty, dark ceiling. Beyond this circle was gloom.

Billi took her seat. Kay was beside her, his face impassive but eyes bloodshot; he obviously hadn’t slept. On her right side was the other squire, Bors, Gwaine’s nephew. He glanced at Billi, his eyes hooded and lips curled in slight disdain. At twenty he was the second biggest warrior in the Order. Next year he’d qualify as a knight and he clearly resented still being seated among the squires.

Arthur’s hands gripped the armrests. Behind his chair stood Father Balin, pale as a midnight ghost. He wasn’t part of the fighting order so did not have a seat. But as the Chaplain he had a right to be present, even at a Council of War. To Arthur’s right was Gwaine, as Seneschal he took the next most honoured position to the Master. On Arthur’s left was Percy, the Templar Marshall, the Master of Arms. Billi looked round the circle at the others.

Pelleas looked tired. His right hand was wrapped in a bandage and he struggled to keep straight in his chair. The werewolf hunt must have gone badly, no doubt she’d hear all about it soon enough. But that could not be why the Council had been called; they were used to dealing with werewolves. Beside Pelleas sat Gareth, small but with powerful shoulders. He nodded briefly at Billi. He seemed relaxed but his fingers nervously fiddled with a short length of black feather, fletching from his signature weapon, the bow.

Berrant sat opposite him, between Gwaine and Kay. The youngest of the knights, he polished his glasses on his sleeve before sliding then back on his straight narrow nose. He was the Order’s computer expert and hacker. He was also one of the deadliest duellists alive. His high cheekbones gave him a sunken, skeletal appearance in the shadowy light.

‘Where’s Elaine?’ asked Pelleas. Billi checked over her shoulder to the pews, where Elaine usually sat, but they were empty. Being Jewish she couldn’t be a member of the Order but given that Arthur had summoned them all, it was odd she was missing.

‘She’s busy,’ said Arthur. He looked towards Kay. ‘The Oracle has something to tell us.’

Not squire Kay any more. Oracle. Chairs creaked as the others all turned to Kay. Billi watched him steady himself before speaking. He was the same age as her, but his responsibilities were a hundredfold greater. The Templars were counting on him and this was his chance to prove his worth.

‘Billi and I witnessed a girl, Rebecca Williamson, having her soul devoured.’

Father Balin crossed himself, and a long silence followed Kay’s statement. Percy and Arthur exchanged a concerned glance and Billi wondered why. What did they know?

‘How?’ asked Gwaine. ‘What will become of her?’

Kay shook his head. ‘She won’t become one of the Hungry Dead, if that’s what you mean.’

‘You sure, boy?’

Kay’s eyes locked on the Seneschal and there was steel in his gaze. The old man held it, but not for long. Arthur watched, and leaned back into his chair.

‘Explain,’ he said.

‘A ghul can only be created voluntarily. To become such an abomination you must renounce all that is holy and give up your soul through your own free will.’ He sighed, and Billi wanted to say something. He looked so tired. ‘That’s certainly not Rebecca’s case. She’s fighting it all the way.’

‘So she might survive?’ asked Balin.

‘No.’

Gareth tucked his feather behind his ear. ‘And what of the other children?’

Billi stiffened. She’d forgotten. As well as Rebecca there had been four others.

‘They’ve been cremated. We don’t need to worry about them.’ Arthur was chillingly matter of fact.

‘We’re avoiding the key issue,’ Berrant said, straightening his glasses. ‘Who’s behind it, and are these four the only ones?’ He lifted up three fingers. ‘Soul taking can only be done by an Ethereal, an angel. We all know that.’ He counted them off. ‘Either one of the malakhim, or a devil or a Watcher.’

‘A devil, surely?’ said Gwaine.

Billi shot a look at her dad. Was this to do with the Mirror? His face was stony blank.

‘But it’s a direct attack. The devil would be breaking his covenant.’ Balin stepped into the circle of chairs. ‘The devils are tempters. They can only lead man off the path of righteousness to commit evil. They can’t perform evil directly.’ He gestured to Kay. ‘What the Oracle describes is a violent attack.’

‘A covenant?’ Billi muttered to herself, confused.

Balin heard. She fought the urge to sink into her chair to escape his frown. Maybe she should have paid more attention at Occult Lore.

Balin spoke. ‘Each class of angel, Bilqis, is bound by an immutable law, a covenant.’ He went into lecturing mode, nodding to himself as he recounted the facts. ‘The Watcher must pass over where a sacrifice has been made; the malakhim can only deliver God’s Word. To change even a syllable would lead to their utter destruction. Likewise devils, as powerful as they are, cannot directly cause harm. They will tempt you, persuade you, to kill your brother, but they cannot wield the knife themselves.’

‘It’s not the work of a devil,’ said Kay. ‘We’re dealing with a Watcher.’

‘How d’you know?’ asked Gwaine suspiciously.

‘Because I used the Cursed Mirror.’

Gwaine leapt from his chair and pointed accusingly at Kay, but Billi couldn’t hear what he was saying because everyone was shouting at once. Balin stood in the centre, his mouth agape. Gwaine barged past him and Percy sprang up to protect Kay.

‘SILENCE!’

Arthur’s word froze time. No one moved except to look towards him. He stayed seated, but his eyes meant that each one of them, including Gwaine, returned to their chairs. Balin seemed to wake from a trance and, after straightening his cassock, moved back to his place behind the Templar Master’s chair.

Arthur stood up and walked to Kay. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and a pang shot through Billi’s heart to see it.

‘The damage has been done,’ said Arthur, seeming almost resigned to what might lie ahead. ‘Nothing escaped, of that we’re certain. But, still, it’s more than a coincidence that a day after the Mirror’s been used we have a Watcher destroying souls. It seems he’s not strong enough to attack indiscriminately. We suspect it’s only by touch.’

‘Wait a minute – a Watcher?’ Balin interrupted. ‘Then we know who he is, Arthur.’

Of course they did. There was only one Watcher free.

‘The Angel of Death,’ whispered Percival.

‘Oh, this just gets better and better,’ said Gwaine. ‘God’s Killer himself.’

Arthur ignored him and carried on. ‘He’ll be after the Mirror. He’s weak. Most of his powers are still trapped in the Mirror, have been since the time of Solomon.’

‘And where is the Mirror now?’ Gwaine’s voice was scathing.

‘Safe. We’ve reinforced the wards around the reliquary. It’s invisible to supernatural detection.’

‘First you let that fool of a boy tamper with it and now you trust something this important to Elaine? Don’t be stupid, Art.’

‘I do and have. I’m setting up watches, around the clock, on China Wharf Hospital. That girl isn’t dead. We’re to protect her.’

‘And use her as bait, yes?’ said Billi. If Rebecca was still hanging on the Watcher might come back and finish her off – tear her young soul from her. She looked into her dad’s eyes. They were dead of compassion. Utterly ruthless. Was there anyone he wouldn’t sacrifice?

‘Yes. Bait. Berrant has hacked into the hospital files. Each dead child was the eldest sibling. Firstborn.’

‘Christ Almighty,’ muttered Pelleas.

Billi stiffened. She was firstborn. ‘So this sickness…’

She didn’t even dare finish her sentence. So Arthur did.

‘Is the tenth plague.’