Page 4 of The Dark Hiss of Magic
‘Who is the victim?’ I asked carefully.
Trilby’s mouth crooked up. ‘You’re becoming more adept at asking the right questions, Kit. It’s Quentin Hightower.’
Thane inhaled sharply and my eyes widened. ‘The heir to the Hightower coven?’
‘The one and the same.’
Damn. I gazed at the swirling depths then back at the desperate, pained faces of the witches; no wonder they were throwing everything they had into the rescue attempt.
There were numerous covens in Coldstream and it was almost impossible to keep track of them all, but some were better known than others. Everyone knew the Hightowers; they were the richest coven and arguably the most powerful – although the three covens that ran the tram network would disagree. I pursed my lips.
‘Did he fall or was he pushed?’ Thane asked.
‘Another good question,’ Trilby murmured. ‘I am sure that you’ve noticed that there’s been a great deal of rain lately. It’s been terrible for business. And,’ they waved a hand, ‘it’s not done much for the river bank either.’
I leaned forward. Several people were standing around a large muddy section, staring. It was as if something had taken a large bite of the land. Erosion, then; the hapless Mr Hightower had tumbled into the Tweed by accident.
‘They should have got him by now,’ a druid close by whispered.
‘Or at least pulled out his body,’ said another. ‘It’s been several minutes. Not even a witch can hold their breath for that long.’
I stared again at the dark, churning water.
‘They’re using a subduing spell on the river monsters, right?’ Thane asked.
Trilby nodded. ‘They are, but it won’t hold for long. And,’they added pointedly, ‘with all the recent rain, those river currents are strong.’ They paused then added, ‘Well, Kit?’
I clenched my jaw; I understood what they were alluding to. ‘You’restill here,’ I pointed out.
‘I have no interest in playing hero. You’re our local waif saviour. Here.’ They reached into their pocket and drew out a small, white-linen bag. ‘This might help you.’
My belly tightened as I took it. The decision had already been made.
‘Good luck,’ Trilby whispered.
Yeah, yeah. My fingers closed around the bag then I turned and started to push my way through the crowd.
Chapter
Two
Iheard Thane’s shout but I didn’t bother to turn my head. As soon as I was free from the press of people I started sprinting, following the course of the river away from the market and down towards the Glebe. I made sure to use the footpath rather than stray too close to the water; if one section of the bank could collapse so could others, and I wasn’t one for tempting fate.
Initially I tried to avoid the puddles but it was a wasted effort; I gave up and simply ran as quickly as I could. My trousers and coat were soon splattered with mud and so was my face. I didn’t bother wiping it away; it would all be washed off soon enough.
‘Kit!’ Thane’s voice was closer. ‘Wait! What are you doing?’
I didn’t pause; surely he realised that time was of the essence. Instead I ducked my head and passed under the narrow stone bridge that marked the unofficial boundary between Danksville and the Glebe. The warehouses of the construction crews who made their home in this part of the city were ahead but I ignored them in favour of the section of the river that curved to the south. It was deeper here than it was bythe market, and the sharp bend meant that the currents were very different.
I made a beeline for an old wooden bench that overlooked the water. I’d already kicked off my shoes and was yanking off my coat when Thane reached me. ‘What the fuck?’ he demanded.
I didn’t answer; I simply turned to the river and examined its dark, oily surface.
‘Kit!’
I exhaled suddenly. ‘Look.’
‘I don’t—’ Thane’s voice faltered. A beat later, the head that had briefly emerged from the water disappeared again. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Was that…?’
