‘I’m sure he has his reasons, Billi.’
Reasons? The reason was simple: she was a Templar. They fought, they struggled, they suffered and they bled. But she could never bleed enough, not for her dad. He pushed her harder and harder, and she had no choice. Not like the others, not like Kay. He’d picked this life. She hadn’t. She’d been given no choice, no praise, no affection and definitely no reason.
Billi zipped up her jacket. She wasn’t going to waste her time here any more.
‘Where are you going?’
She raised her hood over her head. If she rushed she’d still be home before midnight. ‘You’re the psychic one – can’t you tell?’
‘Stop.’ The door ahead of her slammed shut. The table beside her began to shake, hopping up and down and the old swords hung on the walls clattered against each other.
His wild talent. Telekinesis. This was what first alerted the Templars to Kay’s abilities. When he’d been angry as a child objects had flown across the room.
‘Stop it, Kay.’
The table settled down and the swords stopped rattling. Billi looked at him.
His jaw was set hard and Kay slowly wiped the sweat off his forehead. He’d lost control.
‘What is it you want from me, Billi?’
‘What makes you think I need anything from you? I’ve passed the Ordeal. Have you?’
She might as well have slapped him, the way he reddened.
‘You know Oracles don’t have to pass the Ordeal. We’re too…’
‘The word you’re looking for is “afraid”, isn’t it?’
‘I am not afraid.’ But Kay looked uneasy.
It hurt him. Good. Now he knows how it feels, Billi thought.
She’d been afraid all those times in the past year when he hadn’t been there, when she’d needed him. Well, she didn’t need him now – not when she was searching for vampire graves and following werewolf tracks and he was tucked up at home. Afraid.
‘I said I’m not afraid!’ The table flipped and smashed itself against the wall. Billi flung her arms over her head as she was showered with splinters.
When she lowered them Kay was standing in front of the black cabinet. His fingers traced over the Seal.
‘You don’t know what I can do,’ he said, eyes fixed on the six-pointed star. ‘You think waving a bit of steel around and beating people up is all that matters.’ His fingers curled round the edge of a door. ‘You have no idea.’ He opened it.
What on earth was he doing? Billi grabbed his arm.
‘This is stupid,’ she said. ‘Don’t do it.’
Kay snatched it away.
‘This room’s safe, Billi. The wards will protect us.’ He pointed at the carved symbols on the edges of the wall. ‘Stop anything from getting out.’
He drew out a flat dark-blue velvet box, the type that might contain a necklace. He flicked it open.
Lying inside was a simple highly polished copper disc, about twenty centimetres in diameter. The Seal had been delicately engraved on its surface and the edges were slightly corroded and green-tinged, but otherwise it glistened in the low light. Kay stared at it, and slowly sat down on a stool, holding the box from underneath. He laid it on his lap, then gently touched the copper surface.
It rippled.
The Cursed Mirror.
The last of the Templar treasures. Legend had it that King Solomon had used it to perform his great magics. In Islamic lore he was master of spirits and commanded angels and devils. All through this Mirror. John Dee, the Elizabethan sorcerer and Templar Oracle of the day, had apparently contacted the Ethereal Realm through it. Heaven and Hell had opened up to him. But nobody had that sort of power any more. Nobody. Kay wouldn’t achieve anything. But looking at the cold emptiness of his eyes, Billi felt a prickling chill run through her.
‘I’m not joking, Kay. Put it back – now.’
‘I’m just looking,’ he whispered, more to himself than to her. He tilted his head backwards as his fingers stroked the metal surface and his eyes rolled back revealing only the whites. He let out a deep, long sigh.
And stopped breathing.
The Mirror shimmered and soft, sparkling trails of multicoloured lights followed the path of his fingertips like oil in sunlight. The surface swirled and within Billi thought she could see into dark, distant depths as though gazing into an infinite whirlpool. The streams of light threw out spinning patterns and the walls and ceiling became tapestries of dancing, chaotic colour. A small smile turned the edges of Kay’s lips. Billi stared at the kaleidoscopic display, hypnotized by the ever-transforming melange of reds, yellows, oranges, greens, golds and so many other twisting tinctures that she became dizzy, but she couldn’t take her eyes off it. She wanted to laugh, to cry; she’d never seen anything so beautiful. It was as though the walls, the world itself, was falling away into a universe of colour and grace. She turned to kiss Kay for showing her something so utterly amazing.
Kay sat there, his body quivering and froth bubbling out of his mouth. His teeth were clenched together so hard his gums bled, tainting the froth pink as it dribbled down his chin. The air around him trembled like a desert mirage, and as the colours spun faster and faster Billi saw shapes forming out of the infinite hurricane of light. They were indistinct, vaguely humanoid, but growing and taking on more solid form by the moment. She could see arms, legs, heads taking on even, solid human proportions, fingers growing out of the blobs for hands.
Who summons us?
The voices echoed in her head and out of the shapes eyes, bright and keen, peered out at her.
We come, welcome us.
‘Stop,’ Billi whispered. She gazed around, awestruck.
But Kay didn’t hear. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was lost in some distant realm, his mind and soul roaming. More shapes began to form, growing more distinct and taking on human form.
Call to us and we will come.
Suddenly furnace-hot air roared out of the disc. The wards along the walls glowed an unbearable bright white and the forms began to take features. She saw the black silhouettes build faces, eyes, noses, mouths smiling with delicious eagerness and voices raised and multiplying until the cacophony became unbearable -
The door crashed open and Elaine charged across the room. Billi saw her mouth wide in a scream, but was deaf to everything bar the cries piercing her mind. Elaine swatted the Mirror out of Kay’s hands. He fell backwards as the disc spun into the air, crashed against the wall and rattled on the floor until it finally came to rest.
All the lights had vanished, all except the dull glow of the single bulb above her head. Kay lay on his back, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, panting like he’d run a marathon. His body dripped with sweat and his white hair lay plastered against his scalp. He forced himself up, though his legs looked like they were about to give way. He gazed about him, utterly lost. Elaine stared at him, eyes wide with shock. She touched Kay’s face, checking he was OK, then slapped him. A row of thin red welts rose on his cheek, but Kay hardly noticed.
Around them the engraved wards glowed an intense red, like bricks just out of a kiln, then dulled and, with a hiss, cooled back to their usual brown clay. Billi’s ears echoed with the sudden silence.
She’d been wrong. She’d thought that power no longer existed. Billi looked at Kay as he swept his hand through his sweaty hair. Their eyes met, and his burned with feverish excitement. In four hundred years no one had picked up so much as a radio signal with the Mirror. No one since Dee, the Templars’ greatest Oracle.
Greatest, that is, until now.
6
‘I just don’t believe it,’ said Elaine. Her hands were still shaking when she poured out the tea. ‘Those wards should have held.’
They’d retreated upstairs into her living room. It was the complete opposite of the ramshackle shop below. The furniture was modern, plain wood with no frills, as if she’d just bought it from Habitat. The lights were a row of spots that sparkled in the clean white ceiling. The only decoration was a menorah, a seven-branched candelabra, on the window sill, and two large reproduction paintings. The first was a Caravaggio, of Abraham about to sacrifice his son, Isaac. An angel on his left stays the knife hand. Billi was caught by the mix of terror and determination in Abraham’s face. What must he have felt, asked by God to kill the one he loved above all others? The second was Islamic calligraphy, the name of Allah entwined to form a circle.