Page 39 of The Dark Hiss of Magic
I sucked in a breath. ‘For a short distance, but not far enough to catch up with him.’ There seemed little point in telling her about the hammam. It was information she didn’t need, not right now.
Harriet pushed past me and headed for the door. I grabbed her arm. ‘No, don’t go.’
‘I have to see him for myself.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘You don’t.’
Anguish dulled her eyes. ‘It’s bad?’ she whispered. Imanaged a nod. She stared at me for a long moment. ‘I still have to see him.’
It was a terrible idea but at the end of the day it was her choice. I couldn’t physically hold her back. ‘Then let us come with you,’ I offered.
‘Do whatever the fuck you want.’ Harriet pulled away from me and marched out of the café.
Harriet resolutely ignoredus both as she ran at high speed, still wearing an apron branded with the Pork Pies logo underneath her coat. Knox Thunderstick’s house was lit up like a beacon by the time we reached it. There were uniformed MET officers, several hovering Redcaps, and three very stern-looking tattooed officials who were doubtless from the druids’ board of governors.
I wasn’t surprised; even if Knox’s neighbours hadn’t heard the gunshot, someone passing would have seen the broken window and checked on him; it was that sort of neighbourhood and we already knew that he was held in high esteem. That was good, I decided. These were the sort of people who would be equipped to deal with Harriet’s grief in a way that I wasn’t.
One of the druids crooked his finger towards the Redcaps and told them they could remove the body. Harriet ran towards them. ‘Where is he?’ she shrieked, her high-pitched cry reverberating through me with its uncontained pain. ‘Where is my brother?’
The druid official frowned. ‘You’re not one of us,’ he said, his powers of observation at her lack of tattoos leading him to state the bloody obvious.
‘He’s my foster brother,’ Harriet snarled. ‘Let me through. I want to see him!’
There were several mutters and dubious glances then another voice cut in from slightly further away. ‘She’s telling the truth. They grew up together – they’re siblings in everything but blood.’
I glanced across and saw the singer from the Blue Tattoos; he must have come to the house in search of Knox. I hoped for his sake that he hadn’t gone inside and seen his friend’s body. He was a young druid and that sort of image could scar him for life.
The druids nodded, then approached Harriet and spoke to her quietly before taking her into the house. I flinched involuntarily and Thane shuddered. ‘We have to make this right,’ he said. ‘For her sake.’
‘I’m not convinced anything will make this right,’ I replied. With heavy footsteps, I approached the singer. ‘I’m so sorry about your friend.’
He stared at me. ‘You were at Pork Pies earlier,’ he said numbly. ‘You brought Harriet here?’
‘Yeah.’ I indicated Thane who had joined us. ‘We came looking for Knox and…’ My voice trailed off. What could I say? That we’d found his dead, tortured body? That we’d chased after his killer and let them get away? I sighed. ‘I’m sorry,’ I repeated lamely.
‘He didn’t deserve this,’ the druid said.
I still had no idea what to say; I’d have made a terrible grief counsellor. Thankfully Thane wasn’t as witless as I was. ‘I heard you mention at Pork Pies that Knox hadn’t turned up for your rehearsal yesterday,’ he said.
‘Huh? Oh, that was because of some stupid witch. I caught up with him last night. He must have been killed today,’ he said, misunderstanding Thane’s reason for the comment. ‘We were together last night.’
He’d caught my attention. ‘A witch?’ I asked.
‘Some daft idiot from the council asking questions about one of Knox’s old mates. He spent all morning interrogating Knox, wouldn’t let him leave.’ He shrugged, unable to muster up much interest in what had happened the previous day given the events of today.
Shivers were already running down my spine. ‘Who?’
‘Dunno. He wanted to know about someone Knox used to knock about with at school. Knox didn’t tell me who.’
I didn’t take my eyes away from the singer. ‘Who was the witch? Who was asking all those questions?’
He shrugged again. ‘Knox told me his name but…’ His nose wrinkled. ‘Nah, can’t remember it.’
My skin prickled as my thoughts raced.
I heard a vaguely familiar voice. ‘That’s them. That’s the couple who stopped by Knox’s house a couple of hours ago.’ It was the troll, the one who lived opposite Knox. He was pointing at us and frowning.
Two burly MET officers marched forward. ‘Hands in the air!’ one of them yelled.
