Chapter 28
The creaking of the ship ropes mingled with the lapping water against the stone walls of the River Liffey. The sailor had been on the vessel too long, and Kate knew he was probably asleep now, having passed out while looking for some more money. It was quite eerie here at the end of the gangplank, alone at this time of night, and she quickly grew nervous. Images of her absinthe hallucination stalked her mind as she stood alone, bringing new fears to the surface along with her natural one of the dark or robbery. She saw the cobbles rise up to meet her face, and she shut her eyes against the waking dream. She started to walk away, tired of waiting.
A seagull flapped and scrawked noisily, as though disturbed by something up high on the masts of one of the ships as she passed by. Her heart began to pound as she quickened her pace, heading for home without another thought.
She cut across the empty market space, and the echo of her steps reverberated as though from all around her. She spun wildly, looking for someone else—all those steps could not have been her own. She stopped dead in fear, her mind urging her on but her body refusing to cooperate. Again the seagull flapped and gave out noisily from above, joined this time by an angry partner. She looked up. From where they had flitted, a feather fluttered in the wind, not seeming to be falling to the earth at all. She looked at it a moment longer, her fascination overpowering her fear for just that second. It was so white against the black backdrop of clear sky. There was something so terribly beautiful about it, and she felt close to wonderment and a feeling of belonging to the world somehow that she had never felt before. It spun lightly in the sky, like a white, ovate leaf in water.
Echoes rumbled thunderously around her, and the growl was second to them as she spun in shock and caught sight of a black snout and raging eyes before the creature crashed into her, sending her sprawling to the ground, sliding away from the beast a little. The force of the animal’s attack had sent it too spinning on the wet, slippery ground that was covered in rotting vegetables and fish dripping. It struggled to get to its feet. Kate caught glimpses of the odd lines of beast’s body, the jaws opening and separating in a way that looked so unnatural to anything she had ever seen before.
Her glance was momentary, however, as she got to her feet and tried to pick the least slippery route across the ground. She could hear the slapping as the creature slipped again, and she was aware of a small distance between herself and her attacker, but still she didn’t dare look back. She slid a little, and she could feel it gaining on her. Her traction was terrible, and she felt she was only taking half steps with all the slipping with each footfall.
The idea to scream came belatedly, and she bellowed for help as she entered the normally busy alleyway at Temple Lane. In the quiet of the night, her screams were like a cannon blast, made all the more loud by the echoing in the cloistered, wet streets. She could hear people coming to windows, and someone shouted for her to shut up.
A window opened at a building as she passed, and she called pleadingly to whoever was up there: “Please help me. It’s the Dolocher!”
No one answered, and Kate stood there a moment, looking around her.
“You should have thought of that before you went walking the streets,” someone called from another window higher up in one of the buildings, but which one she couldn’t make out. She glanced once more at the window she had seen open, but she still could see no one there.
She ran now, with a strength and speed she didn’t think she possessed. There was anger as well as fear in her run, and she cursed the people who would let her die just because of the way she fed herself. A couple of times she glanced behind, but she was never sure if the creature was in pursuit or not; she got the impression of dark behind her, but there were so many lanes, alleys, arches, and doorways she couldn’t be sure what, if anything, followed her.
When she could take her burning thighs and lungs no more, she stopped and looked quickly behind her before leaning over to pant and try to regain her strength. Her legs felt numb, and they were shaking; she wasn’t sure they were even going to hold her up for too long. She felt like she was going to vomit, and that was when she heard the new footsteps. Kate was terrified again for a moment, but then noticed that they were coming from the wrong direction!
She spun in the direction she had been running towards, and there was a man coming towards her at great pace. She looked back to where the Dolocher had been coming from, and she reeled and tried to go in a third direction, but now her legs did give out, and after one clumsy step she tumbled over her own feet and clattered to the ground painfully.
The footsteps were much faster and heavier now, and she turned just in time to see a man whose face she knew but whose name she did not. He was not someone who frequented the brothel, but he was definitely known to her.
“What were you running from?” he asked, kneeling down to her.
“The Dolocher,” she gasped. “I was attacked.”
“Where?” he asked, already standing up, ready to sprint in the direction she indicated.
“Down by the boats, where the market sets up.”
“Temple Bar?”
She nodded, and then he was off and running, leaving her where she was.
She sat up and looked after him. He ran towards the creature in the same the way that she had run away from it, and she could see that he meant to do violence if he came across it. She watched him run into the distance, and she listened to his footsteps, which never let up even after she could no longer see him.
As Kate looked after him, she realised that she was no longer terrified. She stood up and checked the cuts and scrapes on her legs and arms. Her head throbbed, and she could feel the blood pumping behind her ears. She looked back to where the man had run and saw nothing. As she looked away, she thought she noticed movement, and she looked back once more.
She stared into the arch where the carved devil was, and she was sure that there was something in the black there, something moving. She began to back away quietly, still staring at the black. As she moved, she was now sure that there was something or someone there.
Her mind wandered to the devil statue—that it might be somehow moving—but she focused on the black, taking small, silent steps towards home as she did. And then she froze.
The silhouette of something not human, or any beast that she had ever seen ame across the centre of the arch. It was on hind legs but hunched forward; there were no forelimbs that she could see. Those same massive jaws and teeth she had seen earlier glistened almost silver in the light, and still the movement of the jaws made no earthly sense—they only occasionally seemed to sit upon one another.
She stood silent as she watched it move again into shadows, having passed through the arch heading back down towards Temple Bar. When she thought it was safe to do so, she turned on her heels and sprinted once more, crying and breathing heavily, and she didn’t stop until she was home.