A Hollow in the Hills (12 page)

Silver smiled. ‘Please impress upon the Grigori how much my people need him right now. He must help us or the balance of all the realms will be in jeopardy.'

‘I will,' Izzy promised solemnly, still not sure how this worked. But that was the role of the Grigori in a nutshell, to keep the balance of the realms. And she was, as everyone constantly reminded her, a Grigori now.

Chapter Thirteen

Ardat Lili

T
hey left the eerily silent Market, its people huddled together whispering, their glances so very sharp. Those who hadn’t already left like Art. Anyone who felt threatened had gone, and they were many. She saw the way they glared at Jinx and the way he struggled to ignore it. It had always been like this for him, or so he’d once told her, long ago. Now, all of a sudden, it seemed worse.

‘Who’s Osprey?’ she asked softly.

‘Holly’s assassin.’

‘And he didn’t kill you?’

‘No. Which could be worse for me.’

‘What do you mean?’ But he didn’t answer.

There was no sign of the Fear outside, not now, just some drunken early Halloween revellers at the far end of the square, all face paint and fake blood. Jinx opened the gate
to the Sídheways in Smithfield square. It was weak here, still damaged from Sorath’s assault on it. The edges were frayed and ragged. On a sunny day it was almost visible to human eyes, an iridescent blemish on the surface of reality, like the little flecks of too-bright flashes in the field of vision before a migraine.

They entered the pathway between places and worlds, Jinx leading, Izzy and Dylan following close behind. He knew these paths, could navigate them without thinking about it. Izzy wondered if she got lost in here, would she ever find her way out again? And if she did how long would it take? The Sídheways twisted time, borrowing seconds here, hours there, and repaying them in complicated ways she couldn’t make out.

Jinx was watching her again, glancing back at her from time to time, his gaze finding her whenever they paused. Izzy shivered because her Grigori tattoo’s reaction to Jinx had always been warm and comforting. Never cold, never until now.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

He blinked, as if waking from a dream, and frowned at her. ‘What?’

The cold faded away, replaced by the more familiar warm tingling.

‘You were staring at me.’

‘I was?’ The frown turned puzzled and he had the good grace to look contrite. ‘I didn’t mean to.’

Oh, lovely. Such a compliment. Concern drained away to
irritation. Of course, he couldn’t say sorry. None of them could. Except that he had, that night on the hill.

‘It’s rude to stare.’

He forced a grin. ‘I’ll remember that if you will.’ That sudden teasing tone was going to get them both into trouble. But at least it sounded – and felt – like him again. Izzy wasn’t sure what she had sensed looking out at her from the depths of his eyes, but for a moment it hadn’t felt like Jinx at all.

The light bled and shimmered on the pathways. She could just catch snapshots and moments of the world beyond, snippets of sound amplified too loud, or delivered in a dead whisper. They stepped from place to place, an impossible route that made no sense, cobbles or grass one minute, concrete slabs and tarmac the next, while overhead strange birds reeled in the sky. The same sky turned black as night and stars shone far too brightly in complicated patterns. In the blink of an eye it turned grey as slate, the sky of a storm in the offing.

Izzy stumbled and Dylan caught her. She’d been looking up for too long and a wave of dizziness caught her.

‘You okay?’

Jinx glared back at the two of them and opened the next gate, stepping out on to College Green. The clouds parted overhead, drenching the city in autumnal sunshine. He led them up the length of Grafton Street, making the crowds part before them by will alone.

‘What was she talking about, Jinx?’ Izzy asked, catching up with him outside Weir & Sons, ‘What are the Shining Ones?’

‘A fairytale,’ he grunted. ‘Made up to frighten children a long time ago. She can’t really mean it.’

‘She seemed dead serious,’ Dylan said.

‘I know,’ the Cú Sídhe replied, doubt making his voice leaden. He reached up and rubbed his neck, where Silver had been examining the new tattoos. ‘But it isn’t possible.’

‘What are they?’ Izzy asked again. She was almost forced to run to keep up with his long strides now, he was so eager to be away from her.

She grabbed his arm to slow him down. He glared at her until she released him, but he didn’t exactly pull away. Once he was free again he slowed his pace for them and finally, he started to talk.

‘Old gods. Crazy gods. Killed and buried when mankind were still living in a garden paradise protected by angels. Well, not killed perhaps. Imprisoned. They were powerful and terrible, angels above angels. And after the war in heaven they went wild, feral. They knew nothing could stop them. And they didn’t want to share with anyone, let alone each other. They only wanted to feed. Gods of chaos and darkness, gods of the void. They couldn’t be controlled, only contained. No one could bear the thought of another war, so they were tricked, trapped. Because nothing could stand in their way except another god.’

‘Like the Titans,’ Izzy said.

‘Every pantheon has them in some form. The first gods. Beautiful and terrible. We called them the Shining Ones and
they were
our
gods. All the Sídhe loved and feared them. It hurt to look on them for too long. Their beauty burned the eyes from your head, the sanity from your mind. It was a time of blood and death. A time of horror outside of Eden. It’s where we found ourselves. That’s all I know.’

‘She said the Grigori were there.’

‘Yes. Or one of them was anyway, along with the Fear. That’s the story. Eochaid and Míl … They were blood brothers, sworn to defend each other. But Eochaid became a monster, living off the terror of others. Míl had no choice but to overthrow him too. The Fear were imprisoned along with the monsters they’d fought against.’

‘And now Holly has let them out.’

‘So it seems.’

They turned into St Stephen’s Green, walking by the duck pond and over the little humpback bridge to the central area of the gardens. People sat in sunshine, laughing, talking, reading in silence or just lying there, eyes closed, drinking it in. They could hear children in a nearby playground.

Suddenly, Izzy imagined ancient, hungry gods descending on this, gods too beautiful to look on, too terrible to endure. Phantom screams rose in the back of her mind. The tattoo chilled like ice or acid burrowed into her spine. She shook the sensation away. Or at least she tried to. It didn’t want to go.

‘Here,’ said Jinx. ‘There’s another Sídheway gate up here. It’ll take us most of the way Southside and we can pick up the next.’

But before they could reach it, the shadows surged out of the bushes like a wave of night. It wasn’t the Fear this time. The sickening feeling in her stomach told her that.

‘Shades!’ Izzy shouted, and tore open her bag, reaching for the knife. Not to attack. For defence. The only way she knew how. She didn’t hesitate, not for a second, dropping to her knees and driving the iron tip into the grass, drawing a circle just as she had on the hill when she first met Azazel. ‘Dylan, here. Jinx—’

But Jinx had already shifted, a huge hound standing in his place, those long elegant ears, gleaming with silver studs and rings, flattened back against his head in anger. His green-black fur bristled, marked with the same dark-blue designs as the tattoos on his skin. Only his silver eyes remained the same, though they were narrow slits now. He snarled, all rage and muscles, long claws raking through the ground as he placed himself between Izzy, Dylan and the approaching shades.

The demonic creations hissed and writhed, unwilling or unable to come close, surrounding them all the same. Jinx prowled outside the perimeter, keeping them back. In the protective circle she’d drawn, Izzy stood up again, aware of Dylan at her back. She could feel him trembling, his breath harsh in his throat.

Elsewhere in the park, life carried on, oblivious to what was happening here, on this narrow patch of grass between trees and bushes, away from the path. A hidden corner that she feared would not remain hidden much longer. And when
someone human stumbled on to the shades …

‘Well, now,’ said a smooth, cruel voice. ‘Here’s an interesting mix.’

The figure stepped out of the middle of the shades, shaking off shadows like dust. She looked like a girl Izzy’s own age, sleek in the way the Queen Bees at school were, but with an innate sense of malice about her that they’d never hope to match. She was dressed in a school uniform very like Izzy’s own, though it hugged her figure in ways it was never designed to do, and the skirt skimmed the top of her thighs. Her hair was a glossy sable, her skin deeply tanned and her eyes so dark they appeared black. Kohl rimmed them, making the shadows they contained so much more sinister. She parted her full, plum-coloured lips in a smile.

‘What are you meant to be?’ Izzy blurted out, belatedly relieved to hear her voice didn’t shake as much as she would have expected. ‘Lolita or something? Bad choice, it isn’t on the lit course this year.’

The demon’s smile didn’t falter. It was a touch too wide, showing too many glistening white teeth. ‘I was going for something a little more contemporary. I like your dog. Does he howl? If you don’t call him off I’ll have mine rip him to pieces, Isabel Gregory. I have a whole pack.’

‘Who are you and what do you want?’

Jinx growled as the shades edged closer, driving them back. Despite her boast, they weren’t eager to engage him. But they severely outnumbered him. If they really did all attack at once,
he wouldn’t stand a chance. Izzy reached out a warning hand, and he stilled, drawing closer to her, circling their position again. There was something eerily familiar about his presence. She’d missed him.

Focus, she told herself. You have to focus right now, on her.

‘I’m Ardat Lili,’ the demon said. ‘But you can call me Lili.’ She glanced around her, and then looked down at the uniform again.

She shrugged her shoulders and the uniform transformed into a t-shirt and jeans so stylish it would make those same Queen Bees, drooling over the autumn collections they’d never see for real, weep and rush to Dundrum Town Centre to lay siege to their beloved shops until they restocked.

Lili shimmied, getting herself comfortable in her new clothes, while all the time studying what Izzy wore, calculating every detail, and when her gaze returned to Izzy’s face, the smile was even colder.

‘We’ve been wondering what you’re up to, Izzy. I can call you Izzy, can’t I?’ She flexed her perfectly and expensively manicured nails. They were painted gold and purple, the finish as glossy and perfect as the rest of her.

‘None of your business.’

‘Oh, but I think it is. I think it might be everyone’s business. Demons have a right to be included. Otherwise we get tetchy.’

Izzy swallowed hard. The only demon she’d dealt with had been Azazel, who had a connection to her family and a positively charming demeanour in comparison. She didn’t know
what to do here. Helplessly, she glanced at Jinx, who was still caught up in the whole snarling and pacing, and not being a whole lot of use.

‘This is Grigori business,’ she tried again. Whatever the way out of this was, Izzy knew she couldn’t tell the demon about the Fear, the Storyteller’s Book, or the Shining Ones. So basically, none of it. Which was sure to be a problem.

‘Grigori? Why? Do you think Azazel will leap in and pull you out of this? He has no power over me. I have no need to protect the Grigori. You lot aren’t my concern. But knowledge is power. So spill, before I have to come over there and make you spill.’ She took a step forward. ‘All sorts of things.’

Another step. ‘Secrets.’

Step. ‘Blood.’

Step. ‘Intestines.’

Izzy bristled. ‘We’re protected.’

She laughed. ‘You’ve got to learn to draw a bigger circle than that. I mean, eventually, you’re going to need to sit down. Or, you know, you could just fall over.’

Beneath their feet the ground bucked and shook, rearing up and tossing them aside. Caught off balance, Izzy and Dylan were pitched forwards and fell, sprawling on the grass outside the circle. The knife flew out of Izzy’s hands.

Shades seized them, their grip cold but dry as old parchment, dusty and cloying. They wrapped themselves around her and she choked on them. She heard Dylan trying to fight, his struggles becoming strangled coughs. There was nothing
to fight. Just smoke and shadows. Izzy couldn’t see him. They were both swallowed up in darkness.

‘Let them go,’ said Jinx.

The darkness parted and Jinx was there, naked in Aes Sídhe form, holding Izzy’s knife to Lili’s throat.

Not that Lili seemed in any way concerned.

‘Oh he’s so pretty, this one,’ she cooed to Izzy. ‘And foolhardy. Do you think you’re fast enough, dog?’

‘We can always find out. What do you want, demoness?’

‘To find out what Isabel is up to, what the angels wanted. Fair’s fair, after all.’

There could be no harm in that, could there? When Izzy thought about it, she was entirely reasonable. There was no need to panic. If it was Azazel she wouldn’t hesitate to talk. But this one, this Lili … she didn’t know.

No.

Charm, that was the thing. She was charming, using a spell, one that leached away healthy fear and even common sense. She was a devious one. And Izzy had almost fallen for it.