The Liberators (19 page)

‘But how are you going to take it from me, Ivo?' sneered Julius. He leaped up on to the table, crushing a plate beneath his feet, and held the Thyrsos above his head. ‘There's only one of you, Ivo. And look around – see my Acolytes! See how they will obey my every word . . . there are a hundred of them, Ivo, all around the edges of this room, outside the building, amongst the guests, waiting for me, all ready to do my bidding. How can you stop us?'

Strawbones, like a gazelle, as fluid as water, joined his brother on the table, and grasped the other end of the Thyrsos. Once more it began to crackle and shimmer with light, once more the faces of the people in the room took on a hyper-real sheen. The song of the Liberators filled the room with the heady scents of green forests, wine and feasts.

Ivo's body was hardened, his mind a rock. This is not what is meant to be, he thought. There is a pattern in the world; there is a way into the future. He glanced around him and saw the beginnings of frenzy: he saw a man ripping his jacket apart; he saw a woman screaming; a man jumping up on to a chandelier; faces distorting, sneering, yelling. The man leaped off the chandelier, crashing into a table, sending wine bottles flying.

And he saw, coming towards him, Miranda, Felix, Jago and Lydia, and he saw that they were walking towards him, and his heart began to quail, for there was madness in their eyes; but as they neared, he saw something else in them and in his heart he smiled. Hunter appeared out of nowhere and took out two Acolytes in front of Julius.

Julius looked to his right, and in an instant, Ivo jumped on to the table and advanced towards the shouting pair. Ivo barrelled into Julius, knocking him over and Julius lost his grip on the Thyrsos. Strawbones held it close to himself, clutching it between his hands. He snarled at Ivo. All trace of humanity had left his face.

Miranda arrived at the table, and Ivo saw in her eyes the same madness that was in his own: fury, desperation and determination to survive. She looked at him and a wild exultation passed between them; she leaped up and sat on Julius, and Felix came up behind her and held Julius's arms. More shots rang out.

Ivo moved to where Strawbones had positioned himself, the Thyrsos held out like a weapon.

‘Ivo,' said Strawbones, his voice like honey, ‘why are you doing this?'

Ivo looked into Strawbones's eyes. The face was returning to its human state, the hair becoming long and blond again, the eyes blue and kind. ‘Don't you remember?' continued Strawbones.

‘Don't give in to him!' It was Felix. Julius lay limp, apparently having lost all effort of will. Ivo sensed around him a full-scale battle. He saw, dimly, the Prince of Wales sheltering behind an upturned table, a film star whirling a champagne bottle around her head; he couldn't tell whether the hysteria had gone or not, or who was winning, the Acolytes or the guests.

‘Ivo . . .' Strawbones spoke again, weakly this time. Out of his waistcoat pocket appeared the small gleaming head of his garter snake. Strawbones picked it up gently, and held it in the light in front of Ivo. ‘Don't you remember?'

Ivo watched the snake slowly sliding in and out of Strawbones's fingers. A champagne glass smashed at his feet but he didn't notice.

‘You cannot destroy the Thyrsos,' said Strawbones. Strawbones walked carefully, gently, towards Ivo. ‘Come here, my boy. Come here, Ivo.' Strawbones was breathing very slowly. Ivo relaxed his arm a little. The tip of the Koptor wavered. And Strawbones lunged, but Ivo sidestepped him, and Strawbones tripped past Ivo.

Ivo turned swiftly to face him and spoke: ‘You're wrong. You have always been wrong. The pattern is finished, the mesh has been made.'

His heart thumping inside his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps, Ivo edged towards Strawbones, nervous as a hunter approaching his first kill.

The Koptor was alive, and it was him too, it was a part of him, an extension of his mind, as he took aim at the staff that Strawbones held; the arc of his arms was as taut as a bowstring, his movement as swift as a leopard; he sliced through Strawbones's right wrist.

The hand clutching the Thyrsos fell to the table, and Strawbones fell too, pulling the cloth with him. Lymph and thick purple blood spurted out of the stump of his arm, his mouth open, nothing coming out of it; and Lydia and Jago strode behind him and held him, Lydia heedless of her dress, Jago's white waistcoat spattered with bloodspots.

Ivo knelt, the Thyrsos on the table in front of him, and held the Koptor above it. ‘This is for Blackwood,' he shouted. ‘This is for all those you maimed, tortured and killed. I am the real Liberator. I am the one who will free you.'

He shifted his weight, and brought the Koptor down upon the Thyrsos with a force that made his arm judder.

It was as if a shock wave emanated from that blow. Ivo was thrown on to his back, as was everyone immediately around him; the room shuddered, paintings fell off the walls, a chandelier swung dangerously, little glass droplets falling from the ceiling.

Ivo yelled, a yell that was wild and free, a yell of the mountains, of the woods, of the forests and the hunt. A huge energy was released, as the Thyrsos split in two with a sound that was deep and old.

And then, there was nothing for a moment, except stillness, and silence, silence like an ocean; then, gradually, sound returned to the room.

People got up and dusted themselves off, helped each other up; Lydia, Jago, Felix and Miranda got to their feet.

‘Look!' said Miranda. She pointed. Ivo looked.

Julius and Strawbones had raised themselves and were facing each other. The energy from the destroyed Thyrsos was pouring into them. But now they could not control it; now they were turning in on themselves. And they began to scream, to release into the silence the syllables of their power; they encircled each other, overtaken by madness; they went round and round like boxers in a ring. Suddenly Julius leaped and lunged, and Strawbones lunged back; Ivo watched in disgust as Julius tore off Strawbones's arm, showing nerves, bones, blood pouring out in a black, viscous trickle. Strawbones looked down at his arm and picked it up; then he threw it, without seeing where it went – Ivo heard a scream as it landed in someone's lap – Strawbones prowled forwards, and the two brothers met. Strawbones was biting Julius on the neck, and then Julius was tearing at Strawbones's hair, which came off in clumps. They both shrieked, howling like banshees. And then Strawbones had Julius in a grip with his remaining arm, and he grabbed hold of Julius's leg, and with a strength horrible and supernatural, he tore off Julius's leg at the knee. The sound of the bone breaking made bile rise in Ivo's throat; he put a hand to his face. Julius, as Strawbones roared in triumph, got shakily on to his front, and crawled towards Strawbones; with a burst of energy he landed on him and began gouging at his eyes.

‘Stop!' yelled somebody. ‘Stop!' It was Perkins, pushing his glasses back, and he advanced upon the two brothers. ‘You can't do that! I have devoted my life to you!'

‘Then we will take you with us,' snarled Strawbones, and leaping up, he hobbled towards Perkins and grabbed him with his remaining arm and tore into him with his teeth. Perkins tried to escape: Ivo saw the horror in his eyes. But Strawbones had broken his neck with one snap; he tossed him nonchalantly aside as if he were no more than a toy. Ivo looked around again.

The Acolytes had all fallen to their knees; people were streaming out of the gallery; outside, police cars and armed police vans had drawn up and officers in riot gear were storming the building. Through every door they poured, soon the room was swarming with men in battledress, looking like black robots, truncheons and guns bristling all over them. An official shouted through a megaphone; the guests, frightened and shivering in their evening clothes, were corralled out; stretchers were brought in and several people were carried out.

The room was in confusion. Paintings had fallen to the ground; a chandelier had shattered; tables had been overturned. Paramedics were checking through the debris, searching for the injured. Several officers surrounded Julius and Strawbones, pressing in front of Lydia, Jago, Ivo, Miranda, Felix and Hunter. When they tried to move in, Hunter shouted, ‘Don't!' and the officers backed away, staring in fascinated, disgusted horror at the savagery in front of them. Perkins' mutilated corpse lay to one side.

Strawbones was the last to die. He was nothing now, a stump of a creature, his head thrown back, his eyes opened wide, green and shining, and they looked at Ivo and they laughed.

.

Chapter Twenty

Ivo opened his eyes and saw, bending over him, a long tangle of yellow hair. He tensed all over. Strawbones, he thought. He's come back to get me. He's come back to life. He was enveloped by terror, paralysed. Then the head moved and, shaking the hair away, the smiling face of Miranda was revealed. She sat down heavily on his bed, and reached across to him. ‘Ivo . . . it's OK, it's finished,' she said, whispering.

‘Miranda!' Ivo grabbed hold of her, and she hugged him back tightly.

A chuckle came from the other side of the room and Ivo looked up to see Felix. ‘You two getting on all right, then?'

‘Shut up, Felix!' said Miranda, but softly.

Ivo realised that he was panting. His throat was dry. He sat up in bed. ‘Has it . . . is it really finished?'

Felix leaned back lazily, but Ivo could see deep relief in his eyes. Miranda and Felix exchanged glances. ‘Yes,' answered Felix.

‘Your parents . . . are they OK?' asked Ivo. He remembered, suddenly, his own.

Miranda nodded quickly. ‘Yes. Felix found them. Ma's got a few cuts and bruises, but otherwise they're fine. Pa's already telling all his friends and making jokes about it. He was on the news this morning.'

‘Well, come on then. Let's go! Put on some warm clothes,' Felix said urgently.

Ivo got dressed (having pushed Miranda out of the room) and went downstairs with Felix. At the door to Lydia's studio he paused. ‘Wait a minute,' he said to Felix, who tapped his feet impatiently.

Ivo went in. It was empty. The portrait of Strawbones was on the easel, finished. He went up to it, his heart in his mouth. There he was, his long white face, his blue, kind eyes, his red patchwork jacket. The painting didn't move. There was no sign of the figures he'd seen before. It was just a painting. And then, without really thinking, he picked up the portrait and broke it over his knee. It split, with a harsh crunch, and then he threw the two halves, violently, into different corners of the room.

Three minutes later, Ivo was being dragged out of the house by the two siblings. ‘What's going on?' he asked. Outside, the sun had come out. It was three days after the party. Ivo had been in hospital for a couple of
days and had been released. He was tired, still so tired. His head was filled with a dull ache, his eyes were drooping. The sky was intense and blue, dotted with white clouds made gold by the light. Ivo looked up and saw a mass of clouds form together, like a bird, wings spread for flight, and then, as quickly as it had appeared, it went.

‘Come on! It's nearly one o'clock! We're going to be late!'

‘Late for what?' asked Ivo, noticing the black minicab that was waiting for them.

‘Not saying,' answered Felix, and then, laughing even more, he pulled Ivo behind him into the car. The streets were now frosted and clear, and Ivo remembered when he had met Felix and Miranda, and how excited he had been. I wanted adventure, he thought ruefully. Now I just want peace. He looked out of the windows and saw the Londoners, milling and swarming as if nothing had ever happened, resilient and strong. The radio was on, and it played Christmas songs, to which Miranda sang along, to the mortification of Felix. Through the streets they drove, until they reached Hyde Park. The car pulled up and the three friends got out. The park was empty, the expanse of grass white with snow in patches.

‘What's going on?' Ivo asked. His cheeks were reddened by the cold. His breath blew out like mist. They were nearing the Serpentine lake, and it appeared in front of them, edged with rime and shards of ice. Ivo could see a small group of figures standing at the shore by the boats. As they neared, Ivo saw that two of the people who were standing together were moving towards him, and they were heavily muffled up; his heart beat a little faster. Felix and Miranda slowed down. Ivo realised, with a surge of joy in his heart, who they were, and broke into a jog; soon he was sprinting, and he flung himself at his parents.

He said nothing at first, but held them tightly, enveloped in their arms. His father's stubble was rough on his cheek, and he could smell his mother's favourite scent. ‘Mum . . . Dad . . .'

Ivo looked up into his father's usually cheerful face, now grave, and his mother's eyes. ‘Jago told us something was going on. We were so worried, Ivo. We're so happy to see you.' They kissed him once more, and he held them, and for a moment only he and his parents existed, and they were safe and they were together and they were alive.

Ivo looked across at the others, and saw Jago, tall in a black overcoat, with no tie on, and Lydia, with a mink fur hat on her head; and Hunter, shuffling from foot to foot in an old brown padded jacket. Ivo let go of his parents and walked over to the other three. Jago bowed a little stiffly, and then hugged him, and Lydia joined in, whilst Hunter stood looking away; then Ivo, remembering her, gave her the biggest hug of all. When he released her, he was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

‘Oh, I'm not crying,' she said. ‘It's just the cold.' She wiped away a large tear and cleared her throat. ‘Now,' she said, ‘Jago took you to hospital, after . . . after the end. You were exhausted. But you'll be all right.' Everybody was there now, in a circle, around Ivo. He looked at each one of them in turn.

‘What happened? Can they come back?' he asked Hunter. ‘Are they dead now?'

Hunter said, clearly and brightly, ‘No, that's it. They can never come back. The Thyrsos is destroyed. That power is gone from the world, like so much else.' She said the last with a tinge of sorrow. ‘Such a thing will not be seen again.'

‘I saw him . . . this morning . . . in my head . . . Strawbones.'

‘I know, Ivo. And you will again. They will live on in our minds for ever.'

‘And FIN?' He looked up, wondering for a moment whether he might join, whether he might continue to help Hunter.

Hunter smiled and said quietly, ‘Finito.' Ivo could see the sadness in her eyes. It had been her life. ‘I've written up what happened. You will be a hero, Ivo, in the secret files of Britain.'

‘So what will you do now?' said Ivo, to cover up his embarrassment as Felix poked him in the ribs and Miranda laughed.

‘Oh, I don't know. I might retire. Take up knitting. Write a book. Rescue another city from certain danger. Who knows?' she smiled, and patted Ivo, and wiped from her cheek another tear that was not a tear. ‘Maybe something else will emerge. There is always something, waiting in the darkness.'

Jago came forward and said, ‘I rang your parents when I found you in the Luther-Rosses' . . . in the
Liberators
' flat.'

Ivo was overwhelmed. He could feel pleasure all over him, but it was pure and clean.

‘Come on,' said his father, his face twinkling. ‘We thought we'd take your mind off things.'

Hunter was already jumping into a boat. ‘Who's coming with me?' Miranda leaped in, yelling, and Ivo got in one with Felix, and they pushed off into the lake. The greyish water was dappled and dotted with points of light like guttering candles.

‘Hey, Ivo,' said Felix. ‘Me and Miranda have got you a present.'

‘Really?'

‘Well, Miranda did mostly. I wouldn't have thought of it. You'll like it, I think.'

‘What is it?'

Felix smiled, and said softly, ‘A kitten.' He put down his oar and looked shyly at Ivo, who said nothing, but clasped his forearm.

They rowed across into the centre, and then paused, the four boats in a circle, and Ivo looked at Felix bending over the oars, at Miranda and Hunter splashing, at his parents, at Lydia and Jago, and thought, Now I am free. The lake and the trees and the grass and the sky, my family and my friends, the ripple of water and the rush of the wind, these are the things that matter, and these are the things that will keep us free.

.

FIN