a fist that resembled massive boulders.
“Hello,” she said, looking him up and down. He had a name badge pinned into his skin – literally it was threaded through his actual body – naming him as Charon, just like a supermarket assistant might have.
“Charon is it? Where have I heard that name before?”
“You’re not dead, whelp,” he growled, “why does Charon have the displeasure of looking upon your measly body?”
Patience scowled. “Excuse me?” she said, but he ignored her, “I’m looking for someone. Bernard Gillespie, my uncle.”
“Never heard of him.”
Her eyes wandered passed him, stretched out in front of her was a giant river leading into mist. It wasn’t so much a river, but rather a gigantic sea, with thousands of little rowing boats floating across it.
Then her eye caught sight of someone.
Her uncle was in one of the boats. She would have to be quick otherwise he would be lost to the mist.
Without thinking, she shoved past Charon and dived into the water. In an instant she was consumed by the blackness of it, filling her lungs and her mouth and every other part of her body. She couldn’t breathe, and found herself sinking so low that she could hardly see the light of the blood moon above her.
A hand grabbed her and she was pulled to the surface, she took a deep inhalation of air as she collapsed on the boat. She wasn’t given much time to recover because arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.
“Patience, I knew you’d come,” said her uncle. He felt cold and clammy like something dead, though at least he was solid.
“Yeah, just had to get past that big scary dude, but Mortus brought me here.”
Bernard nodded. “I’ve already seen him, Mortus and I had a good old natter.”
“After meeting him, I highly doubt that.”
“He’s alright once you get to know him,” he said, “you shouldn’t judge a book by its incredibly scary, zombie outer layer.” He looked down at her ring finger. “I see you got what I left you, what’s been happening?”
Patience told him everything, each tiny detail about the last few days. He was a very good listener,
‘ooh’ing and ‘ahhh’ing at just the right points, biting his nails on the bits that were particularly scary, as though they were making up tales by the camp-fire.
“And then we got here. I know we need to find the Lamina, but we can’t just leave Mercy.”
“It is a very awkward situation, I’ll admit,” he said, “but at least Grim is looking after you. He was always a good friend, a strange friend, but a good one. He’ll look after you.”
She gave a sly smile. “I think it’s me looking after him to be honest.”
“Of course it is.”
It seemed about the right moment to ask all the questions that she’d been dying to ask – maybe dying was the wrong word considering she was currently floating in the River of Woe.
“Are you a sorcerer? What happened? Where is the Lamina?”
He held up his hand to silence her. “Woah, steady on, girl,” he said, “one at a time. First, question number one is pointless because Grim can answer all those, we don’t have much time so we have to focus on the necessary. Question two is irrelevant and unimportant right now. As for number three, I don’t know.”
“But it’s in your journal.”
“I’m afraid I had a clairvoyant wipe my mind of all that information. Yes, it is still in the journal, but I couldn’t risk my head being invaded.”
“I see,” she said, “okay, so what was that message all about? Bathe this letter in a bask of Moonlight.
What does that even mean?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious, Moonlight. It isn’t the concrete noun, meaning the light from the moon in the sky. Didn’t you notice the capital letter, it is a proper noun, meaning the name of a place.”
“Moonlight is a place?”
“Indeed, the Moonlight Hotel. I once spent a few days there, they do a really nice roast, but don’t touch the lamb.”
“So, if I go there, what will it show me?”
“I can’t remember, must have been important though.” She felt a cold sensation as the boat started to go into the mist. She was struggling to see her uncle just a few inches in front of her. “I’m sorry, Patience, the time is up. You must go otherwise you’ll be brought with me to the afterlife, or darkness, or whatever the hell is waiting for us.”
“Can’t you come with me?”
“I’m afraid not,” he said, “spirits can’t exist in that world. I would just fade into nothing, cease to exist.
I’m sorry.” She buried her head into his shoulder to hide the tears that were falling from her eyes.
“But I’m gonna miss you.”
“I know, little one, but life will move on. And now...”
A hand broke through the water and grabbed onto her. Patience fell backwards, getting one last look at her uncle before being fully submerged in the water.
She saw a glimpse of red eyes staring at her, the name badge Charon, and then strong hands gripping the sides of her head. It began to collapse in on itself as pain shot through her.
She awoke to find that the cocoon was gone. Her breathing was too fast as adrenaline shot through her, she tried to remain calm and get her body under control.
If it wasn’t real, then why had she felt pain?
“It’s ok,” said Grim, helping her up, “you’re not insane, are you?”
She managed a small smile. “No more than I was before.”
“That’s rather troubling,” he said, “just kidding, it’s a relief of course.”
“Did you see him?” asked Mortus.
“Yes,” she said, “and then I got my head crushed by that big dude, Charon.”
Mortus nodded. “He’s not a particularly nice deity. He orchestrates the River of Woe. It is said that he is employed by Hades, but legends are about as believable as fairy tales.”
“I’ll believe just about anything by now.”
Grim helped her up the stairs and onto one of the sofas in the living room. It felt good to have some support, she didn’t realise at the time how strange it felt to be in that world. It was settling to have air and gravity working in the normal way that she was used to.
“Did you find anything useful?” said Mortus.
Grim frowned. “She went in there to say goodbye.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said dismissively, “as a matter of fact, I did. I found out the truth to the riddle, you know the letter. He meant Moonlight, as in the place, the hotel.”
“The Moonlight Hotel?” said Grim, “I know it. But first, we have to save Mercy. We don’t know what she read or what information she could give them. If we’re too slow they might even get to the Lamina before us.”
“And she might die.”
Grim nodded, and then turned to Mortus. “You coming?”
“Well,” said Mortus, “I haven’t been in the field for years.”
“So, that’s a yes?”
“Of course.”
It felt good to have a team, it made her feel part of something. She still felt like she was tagging along rather than an equal, but having more people made her feel a little better. Safety in numbers and all that.
Besides, he was dead, maybe that made him immortal.
“Now are we going to the Imperium?”
Grim smiled. “Now we are going to the Imperium.”
14
A VERY CUNNING RESCUE
The Admin looked quite surprised when Grim said that it was her whom they had come to see, not the Luminary. Something in her smile told Patience that it was a rare occurrence.
“What can I do for you?” she said politely, twirling her dark hair around her finger.
Grim leaned on the desk with his palms resting on the wood. “Mercy, you know the clairvoyant that normally helps me, has been k
idnapped. We have a sample of her blood, we were wondering if you could locate her for us.”
“Of course.”
“You can do it?”
“I’ve done it before,” she said, “it’s simple enough once you know how. Could you fetch me a map?”
Grim must have seen this happen before because he had brought the map with him from the passenger-side compartment of Bessy. He handed it to her. “Thank you.” She also took the vial of blood from him.
It was a very strange process, and Patience watched in awe. The Admin laid the map out flat on the desk, and closed her eyes as she dipped what looked like a quill in the blood, using it as ink. The tip of the quill hovered above the map, scanning the image below, and then eventually it came down hard on a specific point on the map.
“Here,” she said, “that’s where she is.”
Mortus scratched his head. “I know that place, it’s a banana factory.”
“Don’t bananas grow on trees?” asked Patience, confused.
“Well, yes, but there are factories to synthesise them. You know, make them yellower and more banana-ry.”
“Now you’re just making this stuff up.”
Grim sighed, scooping up the map. “Anyway, we know where she is, so I guess we’ll be off.”
The Admin stopped him in his tracks. “Wait, you know where she is, but you’ll be recognised immediately. But I have a way you can get inside.”
“Go on.”
“You probably know many different types of clairvoyants. Some specialise at manipulating people’s minds, whereas others like me have other skills. For example, I can create glamours.”
“What’s that?” said Patience.
It was Grim who answered. “It’s a spell which affects your appearance. Well it doesn’t actually change what you look like, it just tricks