‘I’ll take care of it. The others are on their way.’ He squeezed her one last time. ‘You just look after your dad.’
By morning they’d moved Arthur out of the operating theatre into a hospital bed. Billi stared at him; he looked so old. The dawn sun was weak, giving him a corpse-like pallor. He seemed so small and pathetic in the hospital bed. Ugly yellow tubes dribbled out of his mouth and nostrils. His eyelids were half closed, those bright blue eyes, usually so full of power and life, just dull and empty glass.
Had she brought this upon him? If she hadn’t been so consumed by hating him maybe she would have realized Mike was the Dark Angel. And now her dad was lying here.
This is all my fault.
Billi forced herself to look at him. His breath was a thin wheezing, followed by a brittle sucking; the sound tortured her ears as much as his pale face did her eyes. She hated hospitals. The tepid odour of pre-warmed food, the rattle of the steel-framed beds. She looked at her dad’s white hands, how thin the skin seemed now, and how blue his veins. She reached out and took them, frightened by their coldness. They were limp and damp. She squeezed as hard as she could, begging for some reaction. Just the smallest twitch, the slightest sign.
Please, just one sign. Just one.
There was a knock at the door.
Kay entered.
‘You OK?’ he asked. He held out his hand, stuck between touching her and embracing her. His eyes were narrowed, not like he was trying to read her mind, but like he was concerned, normal. Billi stared at his hand until he lowered it. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You really didn’t know?’ she asked.
‘What?’
‘About Michael being the Watcher?’
Kay shook his head. ‘No. How could you think that? I would never have let him near you, Billi.’
‘So you weren’t even strong enough to see who he really was. Read his aura or something?’
‘You can’t read them just like that. And it’s not totally accurate.’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘Anyway, I don’t go spying on everyone I meet.’
‘No, just me,’ Billi snapped.
That wasn’t fair. She knew it wasn’t. But Billi had to blame someone. She wanted to believe it wasn’t her fault, but, try as she might, she knew this mess was hers alone.
Kay stepped closer. ‘Billi, don’t torture yourself over this.’ He’d heard her thoughts. ‘No one could have known -’
‘That I would lead a Dark Angel straight to the Mirror?’ That’s what she’d done, wasn’t it? No matter how she tried to justify it to herself, she’d led him there. And Kay had saved her. Some Templar she was turning out to be. The longer she stayed the more harm she might do. She didn’t want that sort of burden.
‘Where’s Percy?’ she asked.
‘Downstairs with Gwaine and the others. They’re waiting for you.’
‘They’re all here? Why?’ She caught Kay’s guilty look, just before he turned away to look out of the bedroom window, and understood. ‘Jesus, they can’t wait, can they?’
They were there because Arthur was dying. They were there to select his replacement. The knights couldn’t allow the Order to be leaderless, could they? Well, sod them. Let Gwaine become Templar Master. The Order had brought her nothing but misery. First her mum, now her dad. She looked at him, sallow and so old suddenly. Nothing was worth this sort of sacrifice.
A vain hope sparked in her. Maybe if – no, not if, but when – when Arthur recovered Gwaine would have proved to be an excellent Master, and Arthur wouldn’t be needed. Maybe if the burden of the Templars was lifted Arthur might become like a normal dad. He might put her first, instead of the Order. He might even love her. It was a cowardly thought, but she’d always imagined her dad as being invulnerable. Seeing him like this she was gripped with fear. Billi had thought she hated him, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. He was all she had.
‘He’s a tough nut, Billi. He’ll make it.’ Kay put his hand on her shoulder. ‘You’ll make it.’
She poured herself a glass of water. ‘How did the clean-up go?’
‘Best you speak to Gwaine about that.’
Billi stood. Kay’s tone set off alarm bells. ‘What’s going on, Kay?’
Kay grimaced, but checked the door was closed, then whispered. ‘Billi, something went wrong. There was nothing in the basement. Michael’s vanished.’
So much for all the pomp and grandeur of establishing a new Templar Master. Once the inner conclave of senior knights would have met at Temple Church, held prayers and all-night vigils before choosing who would lead them. Now they were going to vote on it in the hospital canteen.
Gwaine sat at the head of the white Formica table. He looked calm, but nothing could hide the eagerness in his eyes. With Arthur near death, he would replace him, and his dream would be fulfilled.
All because of her.
Percy stood up and hugged her.
‘How’s the old man?’
Billi didn’t know what to say. Dying? She buried her head in Percy’s chest. Then he offered her a seat at the table. There was a cup of tea waiting.
Bors looked up briefly from his bacon sarnie, then carried on tearing it apart with his teeth, chomping loudly. Berrant lowered his glasses and smiled at Billi. Father Balin carried on clicking his way through his rosary. Gareth and Pelleas were there too. Kay sat down beside her.
‘Now we’re all here, I think we should get down to business,’ said Gwaine. ‘First, the debrief. Kay’s filled me in and I’ve reached a conclusion.’ He spread out his hands. ‘It’s clear that Michael was destroyed. The body’s disappearance isn’t unusual. As an Ethereal being, he simply evaporated back into it.’
‘But what about Arthur’s sword? That’s gone too,’ said Kay. Gwaine shrugged.
‘Contaminated by Ethereal blood, that’s probably disintegrated too. Simple.’
‘It seems too simple…’ said Balin. He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. What did Elaine say about all this?’
Gwaine scowled. ‘We can’t find Elaine. Or the Cursed Mirror.’ He looked around the table. ‘But we can’t solve that tonight. We’ve other business to discuss.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ snapped Percy. ‘First we should pray for Arthur’s speedy and complete recovery, don’t you think?’
Gwaine glowered at him, then cleared his throat. ‘Of course. Father, if you’d be so kind?’
They bowed their heads and Billi prayed. She prayed her dad would live. And that this would never happen again. It had been too close. And, next time, she could get someone killed. Billi reached a conclusion: there had to be no ‘next time’.
Gwaine lifted his head after a minute. ‘To business.’ He looked around the table. ‘With Arthur out, I formally request command of the Poor Fellow Soldiers of Jesus Christ and the Temple of Solomon.’
‘Temporarily,’ said Gareth. He was right; Arthur was still alive so Gwaine could only be acting Master. Gwaine grimaced and looked around the table.
‘I know we all love Arthur, but we must accept his methods are high risk. Look what happened tonight. I’ve… plans regarding the Order. We need to rebuild our strength. Recruit new members.’
‘Like who?’ Percy’s eyes narrowed.
‘The Red Knights.’
The others gasped. Billi couldn’t believe it. The Red Knights were a bunch of religious thugs, the worst sort of fanatics. Little better than a street gang that went around beating up immigrants and firebombing newsagents. Was he serious?
‘There’s no way Arthur would allow that,’ said Balin. ‘That’s a battle that’s long finished.’
Berrant nodded in agreement. ‘The Bataille Ténébreuse is not against fellow men, only the Unholy.’
Gwaine raised his hands. ‘I know they’re somewhat overzealous, but they could be guided. Trained and tempered.’ He looked over at Percy. ‘They’re no worse than Arthur was when I recruited him.’
‘Arthur did not go around burning down mosques,’ Percy replied.