Qualia Read online

  My focus concentrated on the point of the knife. I felt as if I were floating. The knife became as light as a paper cut-out and I laid it tenderly against the suppurating wound. ‘Go back,’ I whispered. It didn’t seem quite the right words to use but I had no time to think of anything more poetic. I just knew to my very core that if I had the will to act, that act needed a word to kick-start the whole process.

  There was silence as the knife started to glow. A glow that, once established, grew to a clear white light that swallowed both the blade and hilt. The light crept over my hand, up my arm and I winced as it travelled toward my face gathering both speed and ferocity as it burst over my head to cascade down over Alice, who gasped and struggled, her body rigid and her eyes suddenly wide open.

  A feeling of utter peace and tranquillity came over me and, for the first time, I felt good, at ease and completely calm.

  Alice blinked. This time her gaze was far more intelligent. Seeing me standing next to her bed she reacted in almost the same way as her brother had. Jarroh grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the way before physically holding the enraged Drekavak down.

  ‘Stop it … STOP IT!’ He spoke sternly and gripped her wrist.

  I don’t know where healers are trained but I wonder if there is one single place that teaches that stern snap of tone that brings everyone in a ten-metre radius to a complete halt. ‘Right, thank you.’ He checked his patient’s pulse then lifted the edge of the dressing to peer beneath it. His eyes narrowed and he removed it in one quick movement.

  ‘Ow!’ Alice put a paw to her chest and jerked up, staring around at the ward and its silent occupants with a certain amount of incredulous confusion. ‘What’s the matter with you lot?’ She asked then sniffed. Her scales took on a greenish cast. ‘Is it me that smells so bad?’

  ‘Mawmaw.’ Arden struggled down from his uncle’s arms and literally bounced across the room. Her thin face broke into the biggest smile that tiny mouth was capable of.

  Watching the two of them I felt something heavy smack me in the backside. For a minute I thought Keril had attacked me again. Actually it was the floor. Without my even noticing, my legs had given way and I’d ended up sitting like a sad clown on the rug. The white glow that had started the healing continued to pulse and shine around me and I lifted a hand to stare at the light that glittered and flowed like sparkling smoke between my fingers. Nothing made any sense. I could see stars and there seemed to be a certain pressure around my temples. Something hit me on the arm … Damn! It was the floor again. It seemed out to get me.

  ‘Whoa – catch him.’ I felt rather than saw Carly beside me. ‘Joe?’ Her voice became faint and fuzzy before it disappeared in a mess of white noise and darkness.

  I came to on the sofa in Carly’s rooms. From the light coming through the window it seemed to be late afternoon. ‘Hey, you’ve had a fairly major day.’ Carly was sitting beside me holding a wet cloth to my forehead. Nessus was leaning his considerable bulk on the wall reading a book. He had his front legs crossed – the very picture of nonchalant relaxation.

  Coughing and spluttering I heaved myself upright. ‘What happened?’

  Carly stared at me for a moment then shrugged. ‘Any advantages you’ve gained from Metatron’s blood have, up to this point, been used on yourself.’ She paused to take a sip of tea then, noticing my obvious look of jealousy, laughed and held up another mug– this one full. ‘This is the first time you’ve actually made the specific link between your peanut brain and the use of power.’ She paused, obviously considering my look of complete bafflement. ‘It’s like an elastic band-powered toy: you wind it up and up and up, everything gets tighter and tighter and the more tight it gets the more powerful the initial outcome will be; this had to be fairly powerful. Alice was so close to being dead you had to do an awful lot to heal her. Anyway, you’d built up a huge well of energy over the years and then used something to release it.’ She frowned for a moment ‘That’s a good question actually – what did you say before all that light burst out?’

  ‘Erm …’ I tried to remember. ‘Go back, I think.’

  ‘“Go back?”’ Carly looked bemused. ‘Not “Heal” or “Fix” or maybe “Repair”?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, it was definitely “Go back”.’

  ‘Why?’ She wandered over and perched on the edge of the sofa next to me and said almost to herself, ‘Why not a healing word?’

  Putting the cup down on the little table I yawned and stretched until I could hear my joints pop. ‘Oh I didn’t heal her.’ I winced and rolled a shoulder. I think maybe Keril had been going for my face and stamped on my shoulder instead. ‘I don’t know anything about healing someone so I rebooted her.’

  Carly just looked confused.

  ‘You know … just like a computer? I rolled her back to a point she was well, or at least that’s what I was intending to do.’

  ‘You did what?’ Carly’s mouth dropped open. ‘Nobody can do that. You would have had to drag a perfect body forward in time and swap it for her broken one.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t even get my head around how you did that.’

  ‘Just call me Bumblebee.’ I quipped, still nose deep in my tea.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Oh, there used to be an old myth that bumblebees couldn’t fly because it would be against the laws of physics.’ I shrugged.

  ‘But they obviously can fly.’ Carly looked even more confused.

  ‘Yeah, but it was thought that they could only fly because they didn’t know that they couldn’t.’ I took the opportunity to shuffle a little closer to her and, yawning again, stretched my arm over her shoulders; sometimes those old moves were the best.

  Carly laughed and poked me in the stomach. As I squeaked, she leant over to give me a very long lingering kiss that set all the sparks off again. I whimpered as she pulled away. ‘We really don’t have time for this, but you can have that one on account – save it for when we have a moment and I’ll redeem it.’

  Standing up she reached out a hand. ‘Come on, Bumble-boy, we have to get you back. I think you might have a man to save before Metatron opens him up to see if he’s hiding a fortune inside that cookie.’ Carly smiled and studied me for a moment. ‘But before we pack you off, I think you need to meet my father.’

  Nessus put the book he had been reading carefully back into the bookcase and then turned to grin at me.

  A cold feeling settled into my stomach. I don’t do meeting “parents”. They imply a long-term relationship and, over the years, I’d avoided those in the same way most other people avoid the insane. ‘Do you really think we’re at the “meeting parents” stage yet?’ I looked around for my backpack. ‘Maybe I ought to go and sort out this thing with Metatron first.’

  Carly watched me, her face expressionless.

  ‘When I’m finished there then I’ll definitely come back and have tea with Daddy.’ I nodded and smiled reassuringly. It was well past time I was gone.

  Carly shook her head and rolled her eyes. ‘You are such a prat,’ she said. ‘How exactly do you think you’re going to get to Graham Latimer without my father’s help? We need him to distract Metatron while you go and retrieve Lucifer’s vessel.’

  I felt stupid and snapped at her. ‘Well, how’s your father going to help with that – offer him a cup of tea and a guided tour of the gardens?’

  Nessus roared with laughter. ‘You do know whose daughter you been a messin’ with, don’t you?’

  There is a certain point in any conversation like this where the penny drops and you realise that everybody else knows more than you do and they’re enjoying your ignorance far too much. I felt that roiling stomach, Sword of Damocles thing start up again and shut my eyes. ‘Go on, please do tell me.’ I winced and waited.

  Nessus’s beard tickled my ear. I hadn’t even heard him cross the room. ‘Belial’ he whispered.

  I swallowed hard and sank down onto the sofa, then gave Carly a hard stare. ‘You have got to be kidd
ing me,’ I said. ‘You’re the daughter of Lucifer’s second-in-command. The Prince of Evil. Demon of utter destruction and ruin?’

  Carly nodded happily. ‘Daddy!’ she said with a high-pitched little girl tone and then giggled.

  ‘You do realise he’s going to rend me limb from limb then burn the pieces, then he’ll use my head as an ashtray, don’t you?’ I asked

  Carly laughed and, getting to her feet, she held out her hand for me to grasp. ‘You can’t believe all you’re told,’ she said. ‘He’s a little “old school” but he’s lovely.’ Dragging me to my feet she headed toward the door.

  Nessus gave me a huge grin, and then clapped me on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘He dotes on Carly, and as long as you haven’t upset her you’ll live through the next hour …’ He shrugged. ‘Probably.’

  There was no doubt about it: this was definitely not turning out to be one of my better days.

  We walked through the city and I found myself forgetting our purpose as, around each corner, libraries and shops, communal areas, gardens, coffee houses and smiling people took my breath away. It was a beautiful place. Each statue, fountain or play area had been placed with intense consideration to the buildings around it. In one small crescent of coffee shops and bakeries, wooden trestle tables and bench seats had been set within a small orchard of about ten apple trees, their long branches hanging over the tables shading those that were eating and occasionally dropping apples which were eagerly snatched up and shared by those beneath them.

  ‘Don’t you have crime here?’ I asked. ‘Or wasps?’

  Carly frowned at me. ‘Of course we do.’ She shook her head. ‘Well, we don’t have wasps, but we have things that are just as irritating.’

  Nessus snorted. ‘Tretins.’ He shuddered. ‘Burrow under your skin like ticks, but they’re flying little blood suckers. Give you horrible blisters and, if they’re not removed quickly, the skin around them starts to die off leaving patches and scars.’

  ‘So do you have prisons and courts and things?’ I ignored the quick lesson on local entomology.

  ‘Nope.’ Carly reached up and picked an apple from a tree. ‘We don’t need them, because we can cheat.’ She bit into the fruit with a smile and pointed to a tall building across a tiled square. ‘Anyone breaks the laws they face my father and Parity, or Farr, her brother.’

  ‘Who?’ I asked.

  ‘Parity can tell if you’re lying and look at any place or building and tell you what happened there, she’s a ...’ She paused. ‘Nessus what is Parity?’

  Nessus groaned. ‘I have no idea what she’s actually called,’ he said, ‘but the word “freaky” comes to mind.’

  ‘She is a bit.’ Carly nodded. ‘Her brother Farr talks to the dead – he’s a necromancer.’ She shrugged. ‘So between the two of them, there isn’t a crime that doesn’t get solved and, if the crimes are always solved, people tend to leave here before they do anything wrong. Criminals prefer to at least have a chance of getting away with whatever they want to do. Well,’ she amended, ‘the sensible ones do.’ She looked around the square. ‘Those who’ve committed minor crimes have to pay back in kind. They clean the city or fix things. Those that have murdered or raped get banished to one of the dead lands where they can prey on each other.’ She picked up the pace as we passed a small group of laughing kids who were throwing water at one another in a fountain. One looked very much like an otter and was using his tail to create huge waves that swamped the others, leaving them soaked and gasping with laughter. ‘It’s not a perfect system but it’s as close as we can get.’

  ‘So no lawyers?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Prisons?’

  ‘Nope.’ She shrugged. ‘There’s no point to them. Lies don’t work here, and if you can’t lie, you can’t even protest. With Parity working for my father, offenders don’t get the chance to even bend the truth. She sees exactly what happened, and every offence has a set punishment – they are published and displayed in the library. You come here, you commit a crime, you will be found and you will be punished. There will be no appeals, no reduced sentences; it’s all very much set in stone.’

  As we climbed a tall set of marble steps I noticed there was a large carved and polished wooden sign set above the impressive shining doors that read “Fiat Justicia”. Under the heavy weight of that pronouncement I sidled through the door wondering what the punishment would be for trying to seduce the judge’s daughter. I decided that I would avoid this Parity at all costs. I considered the implications of her “gift” then decided not to think about it any more; that would be one scary woman.

  At the top of a slim and winding flight of stairs a door barred our way. Without hesitation Carly pushed her way through and, striding across an expanse of cream carpet, she skirted a huge table to the far end where a man sat frowning at a pile of paperwork. She put her arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘Hey, Dad.’

  The man jumped – he obviously hadn’t even noticed the door opening. Blinking for a moment he turned and smiled at Carly. ‘Carlotta.’ He stood and stretched. ‘I see you’re late, as usual.’ Yawning hugely he dragged a hand through his dark hair and stared blankly around the room for a moment before rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. ‘But then so is everyone else.’ He nodded at Nessus. ‘Hey, Ness.’ He rolled his shoulders and frowned as, lagging behind, I sidled through the doors.

  ‘Father, this is Joe.’ She linked her arm into his and pulled him to his feet. Walking beside her around the table Belial didn’t take his eyes off me – not even to blink – and in the 20 steps it took him to reach me I had started sweating profusely.

  We studied each other. He was a little taller and a little heavier than me. Bright, intelligent blue eyes peered out from beneath dark brows that were sporting more than a couple of grey hairs. His long dark hair was dragged haphazardly into a tail at the nape of his neck. Full, sensuous lips curved in a smile. It looked genuine. I did a quick reassess – no horns, no red skin, no blazing fiery eyeballs. Check, just another lie.

  ‘Joe.’ Belial shook my hand then, taking my arm, he guided me to a seat at the table. ‘I understand my daughter has been giving you a bit of a hard time.’ He poured a coffee from a tall silver jug that was standing on a tray in the middle of the table. Holding up cream, he raised his eyebrows.

  I nodded. ‘I understand why, sir.’ I bit my lip – I hadn’t meant to call him that. I hadn’t meant to give him any honorific at all, it just slipped out.

  He smiled and passed me a delicate bone china mug full of steaming coffee. ‘Well, she has her own reasons for doing what she does. I have come to learn that it’s easier just to let her do her own thing.’ He looked rueful. ‘In fact, on the few occasions I’ve tried to interfere I’ve been scolded quite soundly.’ He looked up at the large clock that was hanging from the wall then clapped me on the shoulder. ‘When this is all over we’ll talk, but for now …’ He left the words hanging as the door opened and a woman stepped through.

  I stared at her. This had to be the dreaded Parity. She glided through the door, her tall stilettos making no sound on the thick carpet but leaving a series of punctures in the pile that followed her progress like a dotted line on a map. Immaculately cut black trousers and matching jacket made her business like and her bearing left you in no doubt that you’d better be very, very respectful.

  There was no way that she would ever be described as pretty, or even beautiful. This woman looked dangerous but there was something about her that made you want to linger on her features – even if it caused offence, which was almost guaranteed to cost you dearly. High cheekbones and full lips certainly caught your attention, but once you’d looked into her eyes you were lost. Larger than any humans and almost completely circular the blues, purples and pinks of the iris moved like oil on windblown water – the unnerving colours lapping around a slit pupil that reflected no light at all. Her brows, slim and high, only served to add to her se
verity – as did her hair. Drawn back into a ruthlessly neat bun she had trapped the shining black strands in an elegant cage of silver then locked and impaled it with an elegant, carved wooden stick from which hung two silver bells on black ribbons. She moved with feline grace, sinuous and powerful and, belled like a naughty cat, she gave off warnings that you would be wise to heed.

  Nodding to Belial she smiled around the room. Her bright red lips moved apart in a slow and sensuous curve which framed her white teeth; each one as sharp as a dagger, they speared little dimples into her lower lip. Taking a seat on Belial’s right she stared at me for a long moment then spoke in a soft sibilant hiss. ‘You must be Joe,’ she said.

  I swallowed and nodded. I felt about ten years old and desperately suppressed the need to wipe my sweating palms down my trousers.

  Eventually she looked away, those unnerving eyes sweeping the room ‘Hello, Carly.’ She grinned and her face softened a fraction.

  ‘Melusine.’ Carly’s smile looked a fraction forced.

  I shook my head. ‘Melusine?’

  The woman laughed – a gentle girlish sound which caused yet more sweat to break out on my brow.

  ‘Just stop it, will you!’ Carly frowned. ‘There’s no way he’ll be able to concentrate if you carry on like this.’

  Melusine’s bow lips formed a little moue. ‘Oh all right.’ She huffed an exaggerated sigh. ‘You spoil all my fun.’

  Nothing seemed to change but suddenly she wasn’t so attractive any more. I shook my head again causing her to laugh – a proper laugh this time. ‘Sorry, Joe,’ she said – her voice had lost the sexy sing-song huskiness. ‘That was mean of me.’

  I didn’t get time to answer as the door burst open and a man and woman scrambled through, arguing heatedly as they walked, jostling and pushing each other in a raggedy drunken course across the room.

  ‘Well, if you didn’t try and run my life for me …’ A small woman with short flame red hair, a riot of rings in her nose, eyebrow and lip shouted at a tall skinny man. Her cheeks were red with fury and her lips set in a straight line. As the man tried to grip her arm she whipped it out of his reach then, with a sharp turn, stared up at him, hands fisted at her thighs. ‘You’re my brother, Farr, not my bloody father, so just fucking well back off!’ Raising a hand covered in rings she pinched the bridge of her nose and, rolling her eyes, turned again and stamped across the room. Pulling the chair beside me out with a vicious tug she slumped down into it and closed her eyes.