Number Seven woke to the sound of metal scraping on metal.

He opened his eyes. Sorrow was sitting at the desk, with her back to him, sharpening her kukris. She was already fully dressed in fresh clothes that must have come from her Bergen. Black combats and body armour just like when she jumped down off his office windowsill but the armour was hanging on the back of her chair and she’d added a grey woollen crew neck as a concession to the cold. The room was frigid. He breathed out and his breath steamed.

What did it mean that she was willing to drop the mantle of the goddess to wear that sweater? Was this a sign that she trusted him or was it only testament to how cold it was?

'I hope you’ve got a change of clothes stashed here because everything from last night is still wet,' said Sorrow without turning around.

'How did you know I was awake?'

'I heard your breathing change. That and I could feel someone staring at my arse.' She stopped sharpening and turned in the seat. 'Last night, I never asked if you got what you wanted. Did you see the Goddess?'

'Saw her. Spoke to her. Swam with her. She didn’t tell me much but she did say that her handmaidens are at war and that I’m the spoils.' Seven sat up and pulled the bedclothes around him. He wasn’t ready to deal with the icy morning air yet.

'Handmaidens plural. So there is another Raven.'

'At least one. And depending on how the battle goes I get to be either a champion or a corpse.' Seven inspected Sorrow’s expression as he spoke. Did she know this already? Perhaps without realising that she knew?

'How does it feel to be a trophy?' The combination of amusement and curiosity on her face seemed unrehearsed. Maybe she hadn’t known.

'Less empowering than you’d think. She also said that we’d know the truth soon and that I should pass on her greeting to the witch when I meet her.'

Sorrow stiffened. 'Did she say what you’d know the truth about?'

'No.'

'Oh well. Now that you’re awake you can help me figure out how we get from here to the British Library without getting caught on CCTV and picked out by whatever facial recognition software SIS has. And then get in without getting spotted by security.'

'Why the British Library?'

'That’s where the witch works.'

#

‘Can we see our friends?’ said Five.

Sgàthach* seemed thrown by the question. For a moment she said nothing.

‘Well, can we? Can we talk to them?’ said Six.

Sgàthach stared into Six’s eyes. She tapped the centre of his forehead. ‘You might be able to see them a little. Someone has opened you to the sight and a touch of it still remains.’ She turned towards Five. ‘Neither of you will be able to talk to them without help.’

‘I can interpret for you,’ said the raven, its harsh voice making its desperation to please seem almost comical.

‘But can you help us to see them?’ said Five.

The raven lowered its head. ‘No.’

‘There are ways,’said the Blacksmith. She stopped short, as if not trusting herself to say more.

Five spun on the spot, searched the Blacksmith’s face for any sign of falsehood or ulterior motive. ‘What kind of ways?’

‘This is not my household. It’s not my place to offer anything.’ She was looking over Five’s shoulder at Sgàthach.

Five turned slowly, giving Sgàthach time to think and himself time to get his anger in check.

‘Let me show you’ said Sgàthach and she led the way back to the tower.

‘Did you find the Cauldron?’ whispered Six as they followed Sgàthach.

‘Somebody nicked it first. Probably the same somebody that poisoned me. But I’ve got a plan.’

‘Fill me in then,’ said Six.

‘Sgàthach has a weapon, something the poisoner wants. I’ve mostly persuaded her to let me have it.’

‘You’re going to trade it for the cauldron?’ Six did not sound enthusiastic about it.

‘Fuck that. We’re giving it to Lucky’s bodyguard so she can fuck ‘em up. I’ll use the cauldron while everyone’s distracted.’

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

‘Much better,’ said Six.

‘I do hope you two are going to be regular visitors,’ said the Blacksmith, who’d fallen into step behind them so quietly that they hadn’t realised she was following. ‘This is the kind of entertainment I could get used to.’

‘Go back to the forge,’ said Sgàthach, standing in the doorway to the tower.

‘But…’ the Blacksmith started to say something.

‘Neither they nor I are here for your entertainment,’ said Sgàthach.

The Blacksmith lowered her head in a reasonable approximation of contrition but Five caught the edge of a smile as she turned away and headed back to the Forge.

Once through the door Sgàthach led them not to the grand room that Five had seen before but to a narrow doorway in the tower wall. The inner tower wall, as Five now realised. The meters thick shell of the tower was not as solid as he had assumed. It was hollow and sandwiched between the inner and outer walls was another staircase that spiralled up the tower.

They climbed for far too long. The raven had said that time and space were different here but they should have been well beyond the top of what had seemed from the outside to be a modestly sized tower. Unless the poison was getting to him? Before Five had the chance to obsess about impending doom any further, Sgàthach opened another door and led them into an airy workshop, directly under an open skylight.

The workbenches were strewn with fine golden wire, gems and jewellers’ tools. More delicate stuff than the blacksmithing that Sgàthach was known for.

Directly under the central skylight was a small round table bearing a fruit bowl. The fruit in the bowl were shaped like apples but had no colour. They were a silvery, opalescent white.

‘The Isle of Apples,’ said Six, staring at the fruit.

Five glared at him.

‘That’s what Avalon means,’ said Six.

‘I know that, Mr “I never claimed to have passed any exams”. How do you know?’

‘I don’t know. Some things just stick,’ said Six.

‘Those are the silver apples of the Moon,’ said Sgàthach. ‘They nourish the dead. They are not pleasing to the living, but they can lend you the sight.’

Five reached for the bowl. Six reached for it too. Neither grabbed an apple because Sgàthach snatched the bowl from the table. ‘There are risks,’ said Sgàthach. ‘Once you’ve eaten the apple you’re stuck with the sight and everything it shows you until the apple has passed through you. And that will be true even when you return home. The effect may linger longer than that. For some the sight never truly fades.’

‘Is that all?’ Five held his hand out for an apple.

‘They are also unpleasant in the mouth,’ said Sgàthach, handing him an apple.

She wasn’t lying. As Five bit into the apple it turned to mush. It tasted of nothing and the flesh of it had no resistance to his teeth. He forced himself to swallow and only then realised that Six was chewing too.

‘What are you doing?’ said Five between mouthfuls of apple. ‘We don’t both have to take the risk?’

‘Maybe I want to,’ said Six, ‘Maybe I miss them too. Maybe I don’t trust Miss Deltoids here to repair them how they want to be repaired.’ He gestured towards Sgàthach.

‘Well?’ A voice from behind them. The familiar seismic rumble of a voice that Five had never expected to hear again. Number Three.

‘Give it time. They’ve only just swallowed.’ Another familiar voice. Northern vowels smoothed out by years of pretending to be as posh as Number Seven genuinely was. Number One. Five hadn’t realised how much he missed the man until he heard his voice again. He felt it like a terrible ache in the centre of his chest.

The look on Six’s face caught Five’s eye. Six had to be hearing them too. And by that look he hadn’t expected it to work.

They turned slowly. Number One was right behind them with Number Three at his shoulder.

One was barefoot and dressed in his grey suit and no shirt. The suit jacket hung open showing the massive scar where his heart had been hacked out. The ragged wound had been carefully stitched up with fine golden thread and tiny stitches.

Number Three was dressed in a robe very similar to the one that Sgàthach was wearing. His robe hung open showing terrible slashes across his stomach. Like One his wounds had been sewn shut.

Five forced himself to look at Three’s face. The holes where his eyes had been were horrific but not nearly as bad as Five had been expecting. The surface damage had been repaired with more of that fine golden thread and the empty orbits had been packed with something.

‘Is that clay?’ said Six.

‘It is,’ said Sgàthach. ‘I need an accurate impression of the size and shape of the void if I’m to make him new eyes.’

‘You can make new eyes?’ said Six.

‘I can. From malachite, jet and gold. When I’m done he’ll be even more beautiful than he was in life.’

‘And I’m very grateful,’ said Three. ‘But right now I would like a private chat with my friends.’

‘Of course,’ said Sgàthach. ‘I will go and dress for travelling. Be ready to leave when I return. The little thief does not have much time.’ She swept out.

One watched her go and the moment they heard her foot on the stair he went to Five. ‘What did she mean? You don’t have time?’

‘She means that he’s dying,’ said Six. ‘We’re here to find him a cure.’

‘Never mind that,’ said Five. ‘They know who killed them.’ A terrible thought struck him. How much had they lost in death? ‘You do know, right?’

'It was the last thing I saw,' said Three.

'It was Four. But she looked weird,' said One.

'Black hair and yellow eyes,' said Three.

'And she seemed taller, but maybe people do when they’re hacking a hole in your rib cage,' said One.

'And she was controlling the ravens that attacked me,' said Three.

'Like Sorrow,' said Six.

'What?' said Three.

'Lucky’s new bodyguard,' said Five.

'Oh is that what he’s calling it now?' said One.

'She is definitely guarding his body closely if you know what I mean,' said Five.

'Yeah,' said Six. 'He came to see me, all post coital and smug, but she is also a bodyguard. Ex SAS. Works for the Department. According to my bodyguard she’s a living embodiment of the Morrigan.'

'Only in your world,' said Sgàthach, from the doorway, now dressed and carrying a raven feather cloak that glinted when it caught the light. 'In your world the Ravens are her representatives. In this world they are her handmaidens. Sorrow walks a road that leads inevitably to battle with the new Raven. The one that stole your cure and my weapons. And now it really is time to go.

‘I’m ready,’ said Five. ‘But now I’m even more sure that we need that weapon.’