EIGHT DRAVEN’S OFFER
EIGHT
DRAVEN’S OFFER
I close the front door to my building and step out onto the dark winter streets. I pull my hood tightly around my ears to shield them from the biting wind. An old couple holding hands pass by, and I envy their shared warmth in this harsh chill.
After leaving Lily at college with Becky’s open day workforce, I came straight home. I spent the afternoon in bed trying to shake off the haunting form of that creature, wondering if I imagined it all. My jeans, torn at the bottom, proved me wrong. That thing wanted to kill me.
The one positive I could take from today is that I avoided any awkward chat about Tariq and didn’t have to weave a tangled web of lies.
Lily did drop me a message insisting I go over to her place tonight to divulge every juicy OneNight detail, but I told her I wasn’t feeling well and just needed a decent night’s sleep.
But really it’s to free up my time to find out more about the real mystery that has unexpectedly unfolded in my life.
I reach the other side of the road. Tariq is sitting on a bench, illuminated by the streetlight above him.
He looks more put together than yesterday, wearing a sophisticated long grey overcoat, black jeans, and tan boots.
His curls look more styled today. When our eyes meet, he flashes a smile that melts my heart.
‘Hey.’ He stands up, adjusting himself.
‘I feel underdressed,’ I say, looking down at my army-green gilet, navy hoodie, and, now, ankle-torn jeans.
‘You look good,’ he says, looking me up and down. ‘I was half expecting you not to show.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, yesterday wasn’t exactly a normal day for you.’
Neither was today, but I’m going to avoid telling him about my encounter with the storeroom monster, as that will involve telling him that I willingly gave away his pendant. Even if it was just for a few minutes.
‘We should get going,’ he says.
We set off toward the city centre, under the glistening streetlights, the soft hum of distant traffic approaching.
We take the longer route, through Queen Elizabeth Gardens.
The park is a large green open space with trees and flower beds, and the magnificent cathedral stands proudly as its backdrop.
I used to come here a lot during my childhood, especially in the hot weather.
The River Avon flows through the park, shallow during the summer months, making it the perfect place to paddle without having to go to a beach.
‘You swim?’ Tariq asks, catching me off guard.
‘What?’
‘You were looking at it longingly.’ He nods toward the river.
‘Oh, no. I mean… I do know how to swim. But more like the heated pool kind of swimming.’
Tariq smiles, and that dimple in his cheek sends a flutter through my stomach.
‘I have a lot of memories here,’ I continue. ‘My mum used to bring me here all the time when I was a kid.’
As Tariq looks around the quiet and empty park, it’s as if he’s seeing it for the first time. He falls silent.
‘What about you?’ I say. ‘Where was your go-to spot as a kid?’
He shrugs. ‘I didn’t really have a place.’
I find that hard to believe; every kid had somewhere they enjoyed going. ‘Well, where did your family take you?’
Tariq looks away.
‘Sorry…’ I mutter. I should change the subject. ‘So, how long have you been a Keeper?’
‘About four years. I awakened at fifteen.’
‘Awakened?’
Tariq suddenly stops and puts his arm across me.
‘What are you—’
‘Shh!’ he hushes me.
I mirror his movements, scanning the surroundings, but I don’t see anything unusual aside from the gentle swaying of the trees and swings in the play park.
‘We should pick up our pace,’ he says, still on high alert.
‘Is everything okay?’
‘We may be being watched,’ he says as I try to keep up. ‘The Dark Friars know a new Keeper has awakened; they will be out scouting.’
‘But they can’t find me, right? I’m wearing your pendant.’
‘They still have eyes, Liam. It’ll only take one of the ones who attacked you yesterday to spot you, and then that’s it. Besides, you have mine, which means they could track me. We need to get to the Seven Angels.’
Our steps quicken as we near the edge of the park. My stomach feels uneasy.
‘What will stop the Dark Friars from just wandering in there for me?’
‘They’d never attack somewhere so public.’
‘Why not?’
Tariq sighs. Am I asking too many questions? Or maybe I’m being too loud.
‘It’s in their interests to keep their identities hidden, just as much as it is for us. That’s the only common ground we have with them, trust me.’
As we turn a sharp corner around the park’s toilet block, I crash into someone.
‘Excuse me, I…’
‘Well, well, Tariq Ashar,’ the stranger says, his tone a mix of amusement and arrogance.
He’s taller than Tariq and me. His dark eyes and white hair make his age hard to pinpoint. But he can’t be much older than me.
Tariq’s eyes narrow. ‘Lucas. I didn’t realise you were in town.’
Tariq’s voice is different. Sour.
‘Well, here I am,’ Lucas replies, his words slightly slurred. He sounds like my grandad used to after one too many shandies.
‘Lucas Martindale.’ He extends a wobbly hand to me.
‘Liam O’Connor,’ I reply. His hand is ice cold.
His gaze locks onto my neck. Tariq fidgets.
‘A new Keeper?’ Lucas says, caressing the pendant chain.
‘Yes. We’re just going to the Seven Angels.’ Tariq grabs my arm, pulling me away from Lucas’s touch.
‘But does my grandfather know?’ Lucas calls after us.
‘I’m sure Nathaniel will inform the Guild soon. Come on, Liam.’ Tariq pulls me away, and I follow quickly, glancing back to see Lucas leering in our wake.
‘Keep that pendant close, Debbler!’ Lucas shouts.
Tariq’s pace has quickened, and I struggle to keep up. Why am I so unfit?
We turn onto the high street, and the archway from yesterday comes into sight. We’re almost there.
We weave in and out of the last of the day’s shoppers before coming to a stop at a crossing.
‘Who was that guy back there?’ I say, grateful for the traffic as I catch a breath.
‘He’s no one you want to get mixed up with, okay?’
Tariq’s voice is stern.
‘He called me something just now, a deb… dib…’
‘Debbler,’ Tariq corrects me.
The traffic stops and the green man appears. We continue on.
‘What did he mean by that?’
Tariq scoffs. ‘It’s a really outdated term the Guild once used to describe new Keepers. A Debbler is a Keeper who is just starting out.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘There’s a lot of history between the Guild and the Keepers, not all of it good. The term Debbler came from a time when the Keepers were seen as tools at the Guild’s disposal. It comes from the Latin “debilis”, meaning weak and feeble.’
Well, that makes more sense. Also, rude. And Tariq knows Latin? What else does he know? I can barely get to grips with the English language.
I follow Tariq through the dark alleyway, the same one we took last night.
‘There are some in the Guild,’ Tariq continues, his voice now echoing, ‘like Lucas, who are more old school, who believe Keepers are beneath them, that they need to be controlled. But it’s not like that anymore.’
Why do I get the feeling that I’m going to be learning history for the rest of my life? I now understand why Tariq holds such a strong opinion of Lucas. Is there something more there? He gave Lucas this look. It was deeper, more personal.
‘Why was Lucas just hanging around the—’
I collide with Tariq’s back. He’s stopped.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, peering ahead.
‘Shh, stay quiet,’ Tariq whispers.
My heart races. We’re not alone. Katie’s killer is standing just metres from us. His long trench coat almost touching the cobbled ground, and his hat tilted just enough to hide his eyes.
‘Good evening, gentlemen,’ he calls out, his voice sinister and unsettling.
I lean into Tariq. ‘That’s the one who killed Katie.’
Tariq doesn’t reply. He must know already. His eyes are fixed on the man.
The man speaks again. ‘Don’t be shy, step forward.’
Tariq hesitates. Maybe he’s wondering if there are any more Dark Friars lurking in the shadows. Or maybe he’s looking for an escape.
‘Go,’ he says, finally.
‘What?’ I say, taken aback.
‘Run, now.’
I turn on the spot, and just as I set off, the gate at the other end of the alleyway shuts. I just have enough time to see a Dark Friar’s eyes find me before he disappears, leaving the walkway in total darkness. Tariq pulls me closer to him as we step slowly into the courtyard.
‘No need for avoidance; no blood will be spilled this evening – if you behave, at least.’ The man gestures for us to sit on a low wall that encloses the earth of a large oak tree.
Tariq does, and I follow. I sit so close that our legs, hips, and shoulders are touching.
The man takes his own seat on a bench opposite us.
He removes his hat to reveal his haunting appearance.
His face is ashen and bony, reminiscent of an ancient skull, with his skin tightly embracing sharp features. His eyes too, orbs of darkness.
‘What do you want, Draven?’ Tariq says.
I can’t tell if he’s angry or scared; either way, his energy is completely different.
‘Manners, Elementa,’ Draven hisses. ‘Not in front of your new recruit.’
Tariq fidgets, unable to stop his fingers from twitching on his knees.
Draven’s eyes fall on me.
‘I must admit, when our tracker sensed a new Keeper had been awakened, I was sceptical. I thought it must be far too quick. It was only when I saw you outrunning my Friars last night at Craythorn that I could believe it.’
‘You tried to kill me, just like Katie,’ I say.
Draven hesitates, glancing first at Tariq, then back at me.