As he did so, she turned to him – and something caught his attention.
Something about her reflection – something...
Wrong.
For a second, he was stone still as if hit by a basilisk. Then, flesh crystallising in certainty, he watched her reflection, her ghost shadow, disbelieving, wanting it to be fake...
She couldn’t be... He couldn’t’ve been that fucking stupid...
The query was pointless. The ghost was still there, over and above her. And he knew exactly what it was.
“Question,” Redlock was saying. He’d moved to cover the doorway, axes in hands. “If this Maug-rim is expecting visitors... why haven’t we been attacked? Right now, we’re as vulnerable as a ’prentice with a cauldron for a helmet – where’re the shock-troops? I’d have shot me right off the damned wall.”
“You can’t shoot for shit,” Triq told him.
“True enough.” Redlock chuckled and the sound rolled back from the slick, carved walls. “I’d’ve made you do it.”
Ecko wasn’t really listening. He was staring at Tarvi’s silhouette, now side-on. Out there in the stone shine, or whatever-the-fuck it was, tiny spasms of light flickered like eels.
Some part of his mind shrieked at him, You knew it, you fucking knew it! You’ve known it all along!
You fucking asshole!
“We – Ecko – blew through the wall,” Tarvi said, nudging him with her elbow. He recoiled from the contact, throat full of horror – fear that it was true, fear that it wasn’t. Dismay at his own naïveté. “Maybe he’s not expecting us this soon?”
“Smart girl.” Redlock nodded. “You get out of this, I’ll put in a good word to Roviarath for you. That old sod Jade owes me a favour or two.” He winked.
“Really?” Her eyes were wide. “CityWarden Jade? You would do that?”
Blush.
Downcast expression and eyelids half lowered.
Oh, for chrissakes, suddenly it was all so fucking obvious. Ecko wanted to slam his forehead into the wall for being so dumb. She was shovelling it on with an entrenching tool – an Oscar-winning performance to a rapt male audience.
Yeah, so he was that stupid after all.
Suddenly, it was all making sense.
The magharta – at no point had she actually fought them. Her patrol had been shredded round her. Just so he’d feel? The stallion – the Monument raining fire and the fervour in her blood when she’d kissed him. The legends she knew – the information she had access to...
He’d so fallen for the oldest trick in the book – Oh honey, you’re so hot! He berated himself, vicious, silent, scornful. What were you thinking?
All right, already. No prizes for gettin’ the answer to that question right.
In the shine of the stone, her reflection was distorted. Not just the monstrous white eyes and claws, but the shadow that stood with and over her – her guardian spectre. Lush, wanton, terrible.
Irrefusable.
Every schoolboy’s fantasy; the creature every comic-book teen had tacked to his bedroom wall. The ultimate, intimate vision, the dream made flesh...
Figment.
He heard Eliza laughing, heard Collator’s cool tones – Chances of discovery at checkpoint four-two-niner: 87.12%. He heard his sisters giggling as they needled him, endlessly needled him... they’d grown into corporate sell-out bitches, every one of them.
Unaware of the congealing of Ecko’s soul, Tarvi had thrown her arms about the axeman’s neck, catching him in an awkward and impulsively charming embrace.
“Thank you!” she said, breathless and wide-eyed. “Thank you – I don’t know what to say!”
Triqueta coughed. Redlock disentangled himself.
“Not a problem,” he said. His voice was gruff, he seemed to be reaching for “paternal”. He stepped back. “You’ve more than earned it.”
For a second, Ecko was poised, trembling – indecisive. He knew what he should do, but for chrissakes, how good had she felt?
How real.
How much he wished it could be –
Fucking stop it! For the last fucking time. Mom told you – remember? – and you gave it up to be what you are. You gave it up!
“She’s not earned shit,” Ecko said. He threw the cloak back, crossed his arms over his chest. He’d been unable to fuel his flamer, his adrenals were precarious – for the moment, he left them untapped. “Unless she ’fesses up right the fuck now – what the hell is goin’ on?”
“Ecko?” Redlock turned, Tarvi half shrank behind him.
“She’s not human. And she’s playing us all for a bunch of assholes.” His eyes met hers. “Aren’t ya?”
“What?” Tarvi was shocked, hurt, open mouthed. “What do you mean? Ecko...!”
“Play me for a mug, you bitch.” Ecko eyed the axeman. “Get outta the way.”
“This has to be a jest.”
“Get outta the fucking way. She’s a rat, a spy, a creature. A figment. All of this – fucking bullshit. Pareus died saving your life, you little whore – did you set those critters on him? Did you know they were there? Did you murder nine members of your own patrol so I’d feel sorry for you?” His anger was returning now. “Didja? Huh?”
“What...? How could you...?” Tarvi was white faced and broken, she sank sobbing into Redlock’s torn shoulder. “Pareus... Oh Gods... Pareus was my friend...! Ecko, how could you even think...?”
Redlock’s mouth was a grim line. From her vantage, Triq watched, narrow eyed over arrow nocked.
The axeman said, “You sick bastard. I should pull your damned spine out.”
“The centaur mare – did you blow it up? Save my life? Why?”
He was in a low crouch, aware that his back was to the open edge of the tiny platform. His targeters tracked Redlock’s axe, eyes, chest, Triq’s bow.
“Who’s pulling your strings?” he demanded.
“No one’s pulling... that night after Pareus died... I was so afraid... and you...”
“Afraid my fucking ass. How dumb d’you think I am?” At Redlock. “Get outta the way.”
The axeman dropped into a half crouch, weapons glittering.
“I don’t know what the rhez you are – but I’ve run out of patience with your horseshit. Back off – now.”
“This is loco,” Triq said. “The first one of you two idiots that moves...”
“Bring it on.” Ecko’s adrenaline was kicked, he was already moving. He had one shot at this – if he didn’t take the axeman down with the first strike, he was fucked – he’d be shish kebab.
Redlock was fast, his reactions were shit-hot. Even as Ecko’s feet moved, the axe was dropping, down and around in a perfect, aggressive block.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
The axeman was human; Ecko was not.
Targeters flashed. The foot snapped high, impacted hard against Redlock’s sternum. Something cracked. The axeman fell into Tarvi and both of them sprawled into the wall.
He caught Triq’s arrow shaft out of the corner of his eye, but he was already in front of it – it spanked from the stone, terhnwood head shattering.
Then he stopped, really sick now, quivering. The low lights of the tunnel were sparking in his vision. He mustn’t black out... mustn’t fucking black out....
The Bogeyman’s luck was with him: he kept his feet – and his stomach.
Triq was shouting – what did they think they were doing? Tarvi was crying out at a sudden shock of pain in her back.