122.

  It had been a miserable, rancid slog home. Fortunately, I stunk so bad that I think it actually drove away some of the horrors of the night.

  After showering for an hour and scrubbing myself raw, I chucked all my clothes in the washing machine and just left them there before slumping into bed, my mind abuzz with questions. I had no idea what I'd stumbled into, but in the space of forty-eight hours it felt like my life had been completely turned on its head. I now had a mystery hacker who knew my real identity and had potentially endangered and saved my life in the same night. Something was out there in the night hunting me, and it was so skilled I couldn't even catch sight of it. I had stumbled across some sort of crazed blood-sacrificing ritual carried out by the Syndicate. Oh, and there was also still the issue of the Syndicate selling automatic weaponry on the Mulberry Estate and encouraging the local gangs to go to war. How had my life become so complicated so quickly?

  Who was this hacker? Why were they helping me? Were they just using me? What the hell was hunting me through the night? I remembered the heavy thud of its footsteps. I remembered the tall, inhuman silhouette and the hissing. Was the thing even human? And what were those bloody Runes? What was the Syndicate doing deep underground, and how long had they been doing it for? How did this hacker know about it, and why had they involved me? And what did it have to do with the whispers? Were they all linked? Was I just losing my mind?

  Questions spun round and round in my mind until eventually, I fell into a fitful sleep, which, thanks to my guarded room, was free from whispers and nightmares. But it was still disturbed and full of blood.

  *

  I woke up as the sun was setting, determined to find answers. I checked my Wrist Pod, but I had no further communication from the mystery hacker. So, I went to my next best source of information: Sherbert. However, I had to be careful. I was keenly aware that whatever had followed me last night was so good that I hadn't detected them. Without my mystery hacker guardian angel, they would have followed me all the way home and potentially killed me in my sleep. I was hesitant to step out that night, and I knew I had to be on guard.

  As I left my window, I activated my cloaking charm immediately. Instead of going to the rooftops, I dropped down to the dark, labyrinthine alleys of the Mulberry Estate, ghosting through them and sticking to the shadows. I checked over my shoulder constantly, watching the rooftops for anything lurking up there. The irony that I was now scurrying around alleys looking for danger lurking on the rooftops didn’t entirely escape me.

  Due to the circuitous route I was forced to take, it took me almost an hour to get to Sherbert's. I zigzagged back and forth, went in circles, and at one point, I found a dark alcove and stood completely still for twenty minutes just to see if anything pursued or came looking for me. But as far as I could tell, the coast was clear.

  Even so, I was hesitant to stand outside and talk to Sherbert. I found him down by the river, as usual. This time, he wasn't scavenging for anything; he just seemed to be hanging out, smoking a cigarette. Using the cloaking charm, I got right up behind him, standing in the shadows and keeping an eye on the skyline for any movement.

  "Sherbert," I hissed.

  Sherbert jumped and almost dropped his cigarette.

  "Don't turn around," I said. "It's me, the Gutter Mage.”

  "Mister Mage?" Sherbert said, nonplussed.

  "Don't say anything, Sherbert. Just act normal, like I'm not even here. Just listen, okay?”

  Sherbert nodded his head minutely.

  "There's something following me," I said, "and I don't know if it's still on my trail or not. I would rather you weren’t seen with me, okay? So, I'm just going to tell you what's going on, and you keep smoking that cigarette and act like nothing's happening, okay?”

  Again, Sherbert nodded his head minutely.

  "I need you to find out about disappearances," I hissed in his ear. "People going missing locally, you know, homeless people, anything like that. It would have to be quite a lot of them. Have a dig around for me, see if anybody's been snatched, or if groups of people have gone missing at the same time. Anything weird.” I saw Sherbert's mouth open, and I cut him off. "Don't say anything. It's all to do with the Syndicate, okay? Some really weird stuff is going down, and I just need you to find that out for me, okay?”

  Sherbert gave another fractional nod.

  "Good. And we can't meet like this again, not at your place, not at the park, or even down here. Do you know anywhere more secret, less out in the open?”

  Sherbert thought for a minute and then, as he raised his hand to take a drag of his cigarette, he expertly covered his mouth and muttered.

  "Down by the old arcade. Meet me there tomorrow night."

  He took a drag of his cigarette and blew out a billow of smoke. Before he raised his cigarette again, I was gone.

  *

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  My next port of call was one I'd been reluctant to use, but the Pigeon King had been too useful in the past to just ignore. He was an incredibly powerful magical creature, and I needed his help. Only the Pigeon King would know what those Runes were or what the hell the Syndicate might be doing. However, that would also mean I would have to admit to him that my recuperation was over and I was ready to reenter his service.

  I took a more direct route to the Pigeon King's kingdom. I trusted that the maniacal pigeon could protect himself from whatever might be following me, if anything was even following me, and I couldn't afford to waste any more time. It was too early in the night for the Pigeon King to be in the market square, so I knew he'd be at the churchyard. I arrived there and checked over my shoulders for probably the twentieth time, but still saw nothing pursuing me. As I landed, a small pigeon took off immediately. I waited awkwardly in front of the statue where I had almost bled to death. The rust coloured blood stain had faded but was still there.

  After a few minutes, the Pigeon King and his retinue appeared. The massive, eagle-like pigeon floated down and perched on the statue, his talons digging into the forehead of the figure. He looked at me with curiosity.

  "Well, well, little mageling. I suppose rumors of your demise had been greatly exaggerated," he said.

  "Guess I'm feeling better," I replied.

  "It would seem so," the Pigeon King said with a wicked glint in his golden eyes. "And I'm assuming you are presenting yourself to me, ready to reenter my fold?" he asked.

  I sighed and then nodded.

  "I guess I'm back in the game.”

  "Wonderful, mageling! There is much afoot that we must discuss.”

  Before he could continue, I raised a hand to stop him.

  "I'll be honest, your highness, I'm up to my neck in it right now," I said.

  "Let me guess, you've already gotten yourself into some crisis you need me to save you from," the Pigeon King replied, and I swear the little white pigeon at his side tittered.

  "Kind of," I admitted.

  "Is this to do with all these shootings around your precious little estate?" the Pigeon King asked.

  "It was," I replied, "but I think it's a lot more than that. I think it's something really dangerous."

  "Oh, do tell, mageling," the Pigeon King said, flapping his wing and resting it under his beak as if he were putting his chin on his hand.

  "I came across something," I said. "Something evil.”

  "Oh, here we go with the binaries again," the Pigeon King said, rolling his eyes.

  "No, this was," I said firmly. "I think it was a blood sacrifice."

  At that, the Pigeon King sat up.

  "What do you mean, mageling?"

  "I found… It was like a giant room underground, and there was evidence of people being there. The place was covered in…. blood, and there were these weird cages and a sacrificial octagon in the middle. There were these Runes…" I blurted out.

  "Runes?" the Pigeon King asked, his eyes darkening and narrowing.

  "Giant ones, and they didn’t look like real Runes, you know, like the Runes we use. These were jagged and uneven and drawn in blood."

  "Silence!” the Pigeon King barked, the pigeons around him squawked in sudden panic.

  I froze and looked up at him.

  “Do not bring such things to my kingdom, mageling," he said, his voice low and deadly. "Whatever you have stumbled upon, I recommend you leave it wherever it is and do not pursue it further."

  "What!" I exclaimed. "They're killing people! There was a kid in there, and now he's dead!"

  "You can only join him; you cannot save him.” The Pigeon King replied coldly.

  "Are you not listening?" I said. "There's something evil going on. They're sacrificing... what does it mean?”

  The Pigeon King turned his face away from me and did not answer.

  “Listen, I'm not asking for your help," I said. "I just need information. Judging from your reaction, you've heard of this sort of thing before."

  The Pigeon King rolled his eyes towards me, his head still turned.

  "Of course, mageling. Blood sacrifice is one of the most powerful and dangerous forms of the Craft. What you're describing sounds like a part of a much larger ritual taking place. Believe me, if it is, it is well beyond your comprehension or your abilities. As I said, I would leave this well alone."

  "I can't," I said. "If the Syndicate is out here killing people and sacrificing them, I need to know why. I mean, this is supposed to be just a criminal organization selling drugs and stuff, and now they're doing evil blood magic? That can't be good for any of us, and I've got to stop them."

  "Why?" the Pigeon King said. "Why must you continue your pathetic little vendetta? You almost lost your life before, and now you're risking far more, meddling with powers you do not understand.”

  "Then help me to understand!" I shouted.

  "No!" the Pigeon King's voice thundered around the churchyard, startling even his own pigeons, who fluttered at the power in his voice. I saw his shadow grow behind him. "Who are you to command me?” The Pigeon King’s voice rattled, the tendrils of his shadow writhed behind him and I lilted before his fury. “Child, a great flux is coming to this land! What was forgotten will come again! Powers are shifting, and creatures once thought immortal are falling! A great power is rising and you are but an insect! Do not confuse my words for concern for you, I am simply making you aware there is nothing you can do!”

  I hung my head. The force of that power and the great, writhing evil shadow behind the Pigeon King were all the reminders I needed of how weak I was in the face of true power.

  "That's not gonna stop me," I said to the Pigeon King without raising my head. "I'll fight, and if I die, I die.”

  I heard the Pigeon King make a frustrated noise.

  "Then return to your little book, mageling. You will find your answers there. Do not come to me again with this. I want no part in it, understand?”

  I nodded my head and was about to leave when a black pigeon suddenly descended. I looked up and recognised Ruku. He glided down next to the Pigeon King and cooed something in his ear. The Pigeon King’s head cocked sideways and then he looked at me.

  "I will do you one last favour, my feckless, featherless fool. Apparently, you have been followed here."

  My blood ran cold.

  "They are watching you right now.”

  "Where?" I said, looking around, but I couldn't see anything.

  The Pigeon King gave a low chuckle.

  "The thing that pursues you is not just human, and it is very good. If it were not for the Pigeon King's faithful followers and his immense power, it would have gone completely unseen.”

  I gritted my teeth and looked around again.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  "A predator," the Pigeon King replied. "Here is your final favour: I will distract your pursuer long enough for you to get a head start. I suggest you start running and do not return until you have banished these foolish thoughts from your mind and are willing to bend the knee.”

  The Pigeon King took off from the statue faster than I could follow, and I turned the other way and began sprinting for my life.