Page 8 of A Skirl of Sorcery


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‘I couldn’t say,’ she replied. ‘I don’t tend to get close to them.’ That was a reason to mistrust her if ever I’d heard one.

Tiddles’ body language changed and I knew she was about to launch herself at Keres and attack. I grimaced and scooped up the cat before any blood was shed.

‘Sheathe those claws,’ I commanded. I glanced at Keres. ‘I have five more cats at home,’ I told her. ‘Plus a collection of ferals that I feed every day. If they all have a problem with you, this is going to be difficult.’

‘I’ll keep out of their way.’ Keres’ eyes flickered, not with defiance or anger but resignation.

I’d never seen a defeated looking ban sith before; hell, I’d never seen such ayoungban sith before. Everything about Keres was unusual. She was in her early thirties and, as far as I was aware, ban siths didn’t usually attain their power until they were at least forty. She was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt rather than a long flowing dress that was more typical of her kind, and her brown hair was tied up in a messy ponytail. She was painfully thin and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes, but I couldn’t see any signs of physical injury.

The black curl along her right cheekbone marked her out as a ban sith. People often mistook those markings for tattoos but they occurred naturally, and Keres would possess that dark stain until the day she died. It broadcast what she was to the entire world, it couldn’t be removed by surgery and no make-up would ever conceal it. Short of wearing a balaclava, she couldn’t hide her identity. Tiddles ought to have been pleased by her presence; with Keres by our side, no random passersby would dare to approach us.

Keres flinched at the bright sunshine as we stepped outside and shielded her eyes as if the light pained her. Curious. ‘I haven’t been outside in daylight for several days,’ she muttered before I could ask.

I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth and I was equally unsure if it mattered, but I asked anyway. ‘Why not?’

Keres touched her neck with one hand and her magicked mark with the other. ‘I don’t have my powers anymore,’ she said, as if that were more than enough explanation. She took a breath. ‘You’re only helping me out because you owe Mallory a favour, butIdon’t oweyouanything – not even an explanation.’ Her tone wasn’t antagonistic – and she was right. She didn’t owe me anything.

I told myself to leave her to her secrets, but I couldn’t prevent the niggle of doubt growing inside me.

It wasa long journey to my home in Danksville because Keres flatly refused to take the tram, despite the bulging bag on her back that presumably contained her most important possessions. When I tried to persuade her that the tram was the easiest way to travel, she clammed up and there was complete silence for almost two hours as we trudged south. Even Tiddles chose to stay silent.

I hadn’t been lying to Mallory when I’d told her that some of my neighbours were prejudiced people who would judge Keres because of what she was. There had always been stories swirling around about ban siths, and their proximity to death didn’t endear them to those who found it easy to despise what they feared. You couldn’t avoid death, but you could avoid ban siths – unless, of course, they chose to target you with their nightly shrieks.

Word about Keres’ presence would whip around my neighbourhood within an hour, and before night fell the likes of Trilby would sell out of magicked silver clovers to protect against a ban sith’s predictions. The amulets were especially popular with the young and healthy. I ought to drop by Trilby’s stall later and demand some commission.

The first person to spot Keres was Arthur Dinsbury, who lived on the corner close to the Danksville tram stop. The half-leprechaun half-troll was in his front garden chewing on a betel nut, his red-stained gums and teeth visible from a distance. He started to raise a hand in greeting, then stopped in mid-wavewhen he registered my companion. His jaw slackened and his eyes widened.

I waited for some sort of verbal explosion but instead he spun on his heel and sprinted up the path into his house. He slammed the door shut behind him as if the stained oak would protect him from a ban sith’s caterwauls, though any reasonable Preternatural would know that their shrieks only started when the sun went down. It was barely noon and dusk was a long way off.

I sneaked a glance at Keres. If she’d seen his reaction, she didn’t show it: shoulders pulled back, she was looking straight ahead.

Being a ban sith was far from easy and I couldn’t help wondering if she’d deliberately lost her predictive powers. ‘Your ban sith voice,’ I began. ‘You said you’ve lost it. Does that mean?—?’

‘I told you that I don’t want to talk about it.’ Her tone brooked no argument.

I had the distinct impression that she had already decided I wasn’t to be trusted but I could hardly complain given that I had similar misgivings about her. I stopped walking and turned to face her.

Keres also stopped. ‘What?’

‘I think that we got off on the wrong foot,’ I said, choosing my words carefully. She eyed me warily. ‘I don’t care what you get up to at night.’ I shrugged. ‘People die.’Sometimes because of me, I added silently to myself. ‘If you want to tell them that their days are numbered, that’s up to you.’

‘I told you that I’ve lost my ban sith voice. I no longer have that power.’ She sounded irritated.

I held up my hands to indicate that I believed her. ‘I wasn’t expecting to repay Mallory today and I wasn’t expecting her toask me to let somebody stay in my home. And I certainly wasn’t expecting Tiddles’ reaction.’

Keres frowned. ‘Tiddles? That’s the cat’s name? Really?’

I smiled. ‘I know, it’s a terrible name but I didn’t give it to her and I keep waiting for her to choose an alternative.’

From her position on my shoulder, Tiddles emitted a tiny hiss. Yeah, yeah.

‘My point is,’ I said, trying to explain myself more clearly, ‘that I was thrown off guard when Boris came to me. And,’ I admitted, because I somehow had the feeling that Keres would understand, ‘I thought I’d get some fabulous sex this morning and I didn’t. But none of those things mean I shouldn’t welcome you. I’ve discovered lately that I quite like helping people, and I’d quite like to help you. Whether you want anything from me besides a roof over your head is up to you – but I don’t want to be your enemy.’

She blinked rapidly. Over her shoulder I could see Arthur Dinsbury, whose wife had now joined him, staring at us fearfully from his kitchen window. I waved and smiled.

‘Thank you,’ Keres said eventually in a small voice. ‘I appreciate that. Ban sith or not, I’m not a bad person.’ She hesitated. ‘I mean, I don’tthinkI’m a bad person – I try not to be. But maybe bad people don’t know that they’re bad. I guess villains don’t wake up in the morning and think, “Hey, today I’m going to be evil.”Ban siths are usually good. We don’t hurt people, we only warn them. I know the thought of death can be terrifying, but it’s the most natural thing in the world.’ She bit her lip. ‘Shit. Does saying that aloud make me a bad person?’

For somebody who’d been silent for the past two hours, Keres could certainly talk when she chose to. I grinned. ‘No, of course it doesn’t.’ I ignored Tiddles’ sudden growl.