“What’s the First Realm? I don’t know all this stuff.”
“L’enfer,” Linden said, and then realized that Hollis didn’t know French. “The underworld. Hell.”
“But Vicki’s all right?”
“I’m assuming she is. Mother Blessing, an Irish Harlequin, left a satellite phone with Maya. During the last few days, we’ve called and called, but no one has answered. Madam was quite annoyed about this. Right now, she’s traveling back to the island.”
“Maya told me about Mother Blessing. I thought she was dead.”
Linden poured boiling water into the French press. “I can assure you that Madam is very much alive.”
“And what about Gabriel? Can I see him? Winston said he was in London.”
“Mother Blessing brought Gabriel down to London, and then he was lost.”
Hollis twisted around in his seat to look at Linden. “What are you talking about?”
“Our Traveler went searching for his father in the First Realm. He’s still alive, but he also hasn’t returned.”
“So where’s the body?”
“Why don’t you have some coffee first.”
“I don’t want any goddamn coffee. Where’s Gabriel? He’s my friend.”
Linden shrugged his massive shoulders. “Go down the hallway…”
Hollis left the kitchen and walked down the hallway to a shabby little room where Gabriel lay on a bed. The Traveler’s body was limp and unresponsive-as if he was trapped within the deepest level of sleep. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Hollis touched the Traveler’s hand. Although he knew that Gabriel probably couldn’t hear anything, he felt like speaking to him.
“Hey, Gabe. This is your friend Hollis. Don’t worry. I’m going to protect you.”
“Good. That’s exactly what we want.” Hollis turned around and saw Linden standing in the doorway. “We’ll pay you five hundred pounds a week.”
“I’m not a mercenary and don’t want to be treated like one. I’ll guard Gabriel because he’s my friend. But first I need to make sure that Vicki’s all right. You got that?”
Hollis had always favored the aggressive approach when someone was trying to order him around, but now he wasn’t so sure. Linden bent down and drew a 9mm semiautomatic pistol from an ankle holster. Seeing the gun and the cold expression on the Harlequin’s face, Hollis thought he was dead. This bastard is going to kill me.
Linden reversed the handgun and offered Hollis the grip. “Do you know how to use this, Monsieur Wilson?”
“Sure.” Hollis took the automatic from Linden and hid it beneath his shirt.
“Mother Blessing will reach the island tomorrow. She’ll talk to Mademoiselle Fraser and see if she wants to travel to London. I’m sure that you’ll see the young lady in a few days.”
“Thank you.”
“Never thank a Harlequin. I’m not doing this because I like you. We need another fighter and you’ve arrived at the right time.”
Hollis and Winston Abosa walked up Chalk Farm Road. Most of the shops on the street were selling different styles of rebellion: black leather motorcycle pants, vampire Gothic dresses, or T-shirts with obscene messages. Punks with lime green hair and pierced eyebrows huddled in little groups, enjoying the stares of the passing citizens.
They bought cheese, bread, milk, and coffee, and then Winston took Hollis to an unmarked door between a tattoo parlor and a shop that sold fairy wings. A room with a bed and a television was on the second floor. The bathroom and kitchen were down the hall.
“This is where you’ll be staying,” Winston said. “If you have any questions, I’m at the drum shop all day long.”
After Winston left, Hollis sat on the bed and ate some bread and cheese. The smell of curry came from somewhere in the building. Cars honked their horns out on the road. Back in New York he could find a way out, but now the Vast Machine surrounded him. Everything would be all right if he could hold Vicki Fraser and hear her voice. Her love made him feel stronger. Love increased you. It connected you to the Light.
Before he went down the hall to take a shower, he stuck a piece of chewing gum in the gap between the floor and the lower edge of the door. The shower stall had mold around the drain, and the water was lukewarm. When he dressed and returned to his room, he noticed that the gum had been pulled in two.
Placing the soap and towel on the floor, Hollis reached beneath his shirt and pulled out the automatic. He had never killed before, but now it was going to happen. He was sure that the Tabula were waiting for him. They would attack the moment he came through the door.
Holding the gun in his right hand, he inserted the key into the doorknob as quietly as possible. One, Hollis counted. Two. Three. He turned the doorknob, raised the gun, and charged into the room.
Maya stood alone beside the window.
31
Early the next morning, Maya climbed up onto the roof of the old horse hospital at the center of the Camden Market. The sick horses and the slaughterhouse had vanished at the end of the Victorian era, and now boutique shops selling organic soap and Tibetan prayer rugs occupied the three-story building. No one noticed Maya as she stood next to a creaky weather vane of a galloping horse.
She watched Hollis walk through the market and enter the brick tunnel that led to the catacombs. Linden had spent the night at the drum shop, and Hollis would let her know when the French Harlequin left the secret apartment.
During the last twenty-four hours, she had been continually moving around London. As Vine House burst into flames, she helped Jugger and his friends get out of the back garden. The four of them had found a taxi near Vauxhall Bridge, and the driver had taken them to an empty apartment in Chiswick owned by Roland’s brother. The Free Runners were used to living off the Grid, and all of them promised to stay hidden until the authorities stopped investigating the two dead men in the florist’s van.
Gabriel had told Jugger he was staying at a drum shop in the Camden Market. Maya assumed that both Linden and Mother Blessing were guarding the Traveler. For the rest of the day, she watched the entrance to the catacombs until Hollis arrived at the shop. Mother Blessing would have killed her for disobedience, but Hollis was a friend. He would arrange everything so she could safely see Gabriel.
She was standing on the roof when Linden came out of the brick tunnel that led to the catacombs. With a sword carrier hanging from his left shoulder, the Harlequin strolled off to have breakfast at a café that overlooked the canal. Hollis came out of the tunnel ten minutes later and waved his arms. All clear.
HOLLIS LED HER past the drums and the African carvings to a cold little room where Gabriel’s body lay on the bed. Kneeling on the concrete floor beside the bed, Maya took Gabriel’s hand. She knew he was still alive, but she felt like a widow touching her dead husband. Maya had seen the saint’s book on Skellig Columba and studied the illuminated paintings of hell. She had no doubt that Gabriel had gone there to search for his father.
All the skills Thorn and the other Harlequins had taught her seemed useless at that moment. There was no one to fight, no guarded castle with stone walls and iron gates. She would make any sacrifice to save Gabriel, but no sacrifice could be made.
The steel door to the apartment squeaked open. Hollis looked surprised. “Is that you, Winston?”
Maya jumped to her feet and drew her gun. Silence. And then Linden appeared in the bedroom doorway. The big man kept his hands in his pockets and smiled slightly. “Are you going to shoot me, Maya? Always remember to aim a bit lower. When people are nervous, they aim too high.”