Page 43 of Skulk of Foxes
‘I don’t want to ruin the mood,’ I said chattily, ‘but I feel obliged to point out that you look like a circus bear on a tricycle.’ I wasn’t lying; although the Mobike was adult sized, it appeared pathetically small with Morgan’s large frame perched on top of it. He was all knees and elbows. That was nothing compared to Finn, of course, but Finn was distracting himself by focusing on Julie. Right now, Morgan had nothing but me to take his mind off things.
‘Does that make you the clown?’ he sent back.
I felt my insides relax slightly. ‘Don’t be daft. I’m obviously the ringmaster; Julie is the magician’s glamorous assistant; Finn is the clown. Any second now, he’s going to tip his front wheel into a pothole and do a massive somersault followed by a crash of cymbals.’
Morgan raised an eyebrow. ‘Have you ever even been to a circus?’
I shrugged. ‘How the hell do I know? I can’t remember.’ I tapped my temple. ‘But there are vast, hidden depths to my wondrous knowledge that even I can’t contemplate.’
Morgan didn’t smile. ‘You must be desperate to regain your memories.’
Strangely enough I wasn’t. Artemesia had told me that she was close to finding a potion that would resolve my amnesiac issues but I already knew everything I wanted to. I didn’t need to remember who I was before, not any longer. And I didn’t want a serious conversation with Morgan right now. What he needed was some light-hearted Madrona goodness, not heavy discussions about our souls.
‘I’m fabulous enough even without my memory,’ I crowed. ‘I mean, look at me! I’m cycling through a deserted city to sightsee in a cathedral whilst avoiding army tanks and arboreal mishaps, with a famous soap actress, a man who looks like he’s gone ten rounds in the boxing ring with a bin lorry, and the sexiest faery alive. Does it get any better?’
Morgan’s grip on the bike eased slightly. His eyes met mine and he said softly, ‘The company is indeed extraordinary.’
I smiled. Maybe I should deliberately crash my bike then I’d be forced to hop up behind Morgan. I could rub myself against his body, reach round and feel his muscles rippling underneath my fingers, bury my nose in his luxuriant, dark curls…
‘There’s the cathedral!’ Julie sang out.
Reluctantly, I ripped myself away from the image of Morgan and I riding stark naked on the same bicycle and peered ahead. I’d spotted the cathedral several times over the city rooftops but I couldn’t remember being close to it before. It was certainly an imposing structure, especially in the dead of night. From here, it didn’t appear as if any of the trees nearby had damaged it. Given the cathedral’s size, that was hardly surprising. I doubted if there was a single crazy, magical tree anywhere in the world that could damage it.
The four of us cycled up to the front entrance, dropped the Mobikes on the grassy verge and gazed up.
‘The clock has stopped,’ Finn said quietly.
We followed his gaze. He was right: the hands on the large clock on the east tower weren’t moving. Time was no longer cooperating with the city of Manchester. I thought guiltily of the times I’d manipulated time for my own gain, slowing down the seconds so I could get the upper hand over my opponents. Then I shrugged; what was done was done.
‘Where are the archives kept?’ I enquired.
Julie chewed on her bottom lip then pointed over to the left. ‘I’m pretty certain they’re near that small side chapel over there.’
Morgan nodded grimly. ‘At least we’ll be able to rummage around without being disturbed.’
I glanced at the others. ‘Well, let’s vamoose. We’ve got ourselves a dragon to find.’
We loped up the steps. It stood to reason that the heavy cathedral doors would be locked tight at this time of night to avoid the risk of drunken partygoers messing up the interior or, heavens forbid, the odd homeless person bedding down. Strangely, the door to the left was slightly ajar.
I paused, tilting my head and listening carefully. ‘There are people inside,’ I said. ‘Lots of them.’
We exchanged looks before I gently pushed the door open so we could peer inside. My ears hadn’t been deceiving me – and it wasn’t just one or two people inside the cathedral either; there were hundreds of them.
No one was speaking much, which was why we hadn’t heard them earlier. Most of them were sitting silently in the pews and contemplating their surroundings, hugging friends or praying quietly.
‘The church offers succour in times of need,’ Finn murmured. He reached for Julie’s hand and squeezed it. ‘And I suppose a lot of people imagine that what’s been happening is some sort of blight from God.’
Morgan’s mouth tightened. ‘We’ll enjoy a day or two of this. People will seek comfort and help but it won’t be long before their fear changes to something far uglier. Aggression. Vigilantism. If Artemesia doesn’t manage to disperse at least some of the residual magic soon, there’s going to be chaos.’
I squared my shoulders. ‘Then let’s get a bloody move on before that happens.’
I slipped inside and looked around for a way to the smaller chapel where Julie reckoned the archives were. Spotting a likely looking door, I marched towards it. None of the stricken worshippers so much as glanced in my direction.
I opened the door and gazed into the darkness within. ‘Is this right, Julie?’ I asked.
When there was no immediate answer I turned and realised, somewhat belatedly, that I was alone. Honestly. One would expect one’s sidekicks to at least try and keep up.
Spinning round, I headed back. Julie was doubled over, with Finn’s arm wrapped around her. Morgan was looking on grimly.
