Read Freaking Freak Page 16


  Before he can receive any form of reply, Freak wheels around, rising high on his hind legs. Galloping towards the ship’s side, he leaps over the rails, plunging down towards the darkly rolling waves.

  Most of the archers rush across the deck, firing their bows – but the arrows strike nothing but empty air. Freak has vanished.

  ‘Ships! The Spartans are following us!’

  The warning cry jolts everyone back into ensuring the safety of the ship rather than wasting time wondering how the centaur had simply vanished in mid-air.

  Paris gives me a quick, reassuring embrace.

  ‘Sorry we let him go,’ he says, an apology that he manages to make sound strangely seductive. ‘But I’m not letting you go!’

  As if to prove his point, his lips connect and meld perfectly, sublimely, with mine once more.

  He pulls back, smiles, lets me go – then sprints off to the back of the ship.

  ‘Haul down the sail! Use the oars only; and take us to steer board as soon as the sail’s down!’

  The sails of the pursing ships glow ghostly white in the moonlight. There are only three, but I know a thousand will soon follow.

  Can I make this whole, bizarre thing work?

  Why not?

  Paris smiles in the moonlight as our sail is swiftly lowered to the deck. Our pursuers have just watched us disappear into the darkness.

  Yes, I think I can make this work.

  I have to.

  And that, of course, includes making sure we don’t end up as Freak’s most prized creations.

   

   

  *

   

   

  Epilogue

   

  The shop, as usual, was extremely busy.

  Most of the Ladies were looking forward to an evening as women of ill-repute.

  Some of the Lords would take the risk of being highwaymen. If they were captured, they reasoned, their contacts amongst the most senior judges would save them once they revealed who they really were.

  (Wasn’t it secretly hinted at in Cruikshank’s outrageous cartoons that the Prince Regent himself relished playing such roles?)

  Others would just relish being younger, or stronger, or possessing an identity they could shrug off in the morning, bearing no responsibility for their disreputable nocturnal actions.

  Every customer bar a surprisingly and particularly handsome young couple had been left in the competent hands of the pretty assistants. Mr King himself was entertaining the fashionably overdressed fop and his graceful escort. They had expressed a particular interest in seeing Helen and Paris.

  ‘Truly gorgeous isn’t she?’

  Mr King sighed with pleasure, awed by the incredible beauty of the woman imperiously standing before him.

  ‘And Paris, so wonderfully beautiful too,’ he continued, drawing the couple’s attention to the handsome blond man standing alongside Helen. ‘But you say – he’s not the real Paris?’

  The young dandy shook his head sadly.

  ‘It’s only recently come to my attention that the lady charged with Helen’s recruitment had indeed supplied us with both her and her lover – but the lover is a Prince Erades. Not Paris, as we’d presumed.’

  ‘And…Helen?’ Mr King asked apprehensively.

  ‘Oh, thankfully she is the real thing; the original Helen in fact! Though not, I’m afraid, the Helen of legend. It took the remarkable young woman I’ve already informed you of to create the legendary Helen we base our claims upon!’

  ‘Then; you believe it’s not entirely amiss to continue to promote our most valued exhibits as Helen and Paris?’

  ‘There’s no harm in that at all!’

  Mr King smiled in relief.

  ‘Then we have much to thank your young acquaintance for!’

  ‘We do indeed! Not forgetting our resourceful Miss Dorent here, who aided her as much as possible to ensure we achieved our prize!’

  He presented his delightful companion by lifting her arm high, as if preparing to whirl her off into an elegant dance. She curtsied demurely.

  ‘My Mr King is being most modest,’ she breathed endearingly. ‘For he had his own, many varied roles to play!’

  ‘And so,’ the shopkeeper asked politely, yet with a mischievous grin, ‘will you now be returning to your own time? Or, as you’re here, would you like a little reminder of just how debauched Georgian society can be?’

  ‘Jackie?’ queried Freak, turning towards his beautiful companion.

  Jackie took Freak’s hand, raising it high as if for a dance once again.

  ‘I think we deserve a thoroughly decadent ball, don’t you?’

   

   

  End

   

   

   

   

  If you enjoyed reading this book, you might also enjoy (or you may know someone else who might enjoy) these other books by Jon Jacks.

   

  The Caught – The Rules – Chapter One – The Changes – Sleeping Ugly

  The Barking Detective Agency – The Healing – The Lost Fairy Tale

  A Horse for a Kingdom – Charity – The Most Beautiful Things – The Last Train

  The Dream Swallowers – Nyx; Granddaughter of the Night – Jonah and the Alligator

  Glastonbury Sirens – Dr Jekyll’s Maid – The 500-Year Circus

  P – The Endless Game – DoriaN A – Wyrd Girl – The Wicker Slippers

  Heartache High (Vol I) – Heartache High: The Primer (Vol II) – Heartache High: The Wakening (Vol III)

  Miss Terry Charm, Merry Kris Mouse & The Silver Egg

  Seecrets – The Cull – Dragonsapien – The Boy in White Linen – Porcelain Princess

   

   

 
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