Reality Bites by Nicola Rhodes Read Free Book Online

murmuring around the table.  ‘She’s not dead yet,’ spoke up one.
    ‘She may yet prevail,’ said another, ‘she is quite – remarkable.’
    ‘And who else is there to send anyway?’ said yet another.
    ‘There is one,’ said the thin man.  ‘He does not realise it yet, but he is already on his way to us.’
    ‘A man ?’ said the first voice.  ‘But he cannot, only a woman can … and a woman of great power at that. It has to be her; this is what we decided.’
    ‘I don’t see why,’ said another voice, and there was some nodding.
    ‘All right, it’s got nothing to do with her being a woman; it just has to be her then. Only her.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because – shut up!’
    ‘Because, idiots – she is the only one who has the power to stop the – “Master”,’ someone else interrupted.
    ‘Oh! – well why didn’t you just say so then?’
    The thin man waved his arms for silence.  ‘Yes, yes, I am aware.  You have misunderstood me.  She is in trouble, and we must send someone to help her.  And he is the only one who can.’
    ‘How can you know this?’
    ‘Because he is the only one who will try.’
    * * *
    It was morning – just barely, but it was definitely getting lighter.  Stiles’ head started to nod – the coming dawn meant that the danger was passing. Stiles knew better than this really, but thirty five thousand years of human instinct* was taking over.
    *[ This instinct is taken advantage of by burglars and hotel thieves the world over – when even the most nervous and paranoid of people, the kind who stay awake all night with a shotgun in their hands finally feel safe and fall asleep.  Of course, what usually happens to these people is that the dawn chorus then keeps them awake. – A phrase that sounds a lot more pleasant and musical than the reality of a single magpie cawing incessantly in the eaves (so that, when you look out of the window to throw a stone at it, you cannot even see it) and sounding remarkably like an old man clearing his throat. ]
    A shadow fell across him and he leaped up brandishing a handful of smouldering straw.  The girl jumped backwards; he burnt his hand and dropped the straw, cursing.
    ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’
    ‘It’s fine,’ he said, shaking his fingers and blowing on them.
    She came nearer.  ‘Here, let me see.’
    He held out his hand cautiously.
    ‘You stayed up all night?’ she said.  ‘That’s so – chivalrous.’
    Stiles felt suddenly tongue-tied.  She was so beautiful, and she was looking at him with … what was it, admiration? The close proximity of beautiful young women was not something that Stiles was used to in any circumstances.  And no woman of any kind, except his late wife, had ever looked at him with anything other than disinterest at best.
    ‘Oh – well,’ he stammered. ‘I um – not really – I just – it seemed – er …’
    She was rummaging in a backpack, which seemed to be mainly full of weapons.  Eventually, to his relief, she brought out a roll of bandage and a small jar.  ‘Arnica,’ she said. ‘It’ll help with the pain.’
    It did too; it was remarkable – like magic. ( Very like magic, in fact.)  She bandaged up his hand.
    ‘Is that better, Detective?’ she asked.
    He waved his good hand dismissively. ‘Please,’ he said. ‘I think, under the circumstances, you should call me Jack.’
    She looked intensely pleased.  ‘Thank-you – Jack,’ she said and gave him a dazzling smile.  Stiles actually blushed, something he had not done in at least thirty years.
    ‘Well,’ he said, looking at his feet, ‘I don’t know what’s going on, but I get the feeling that you arrived just in time.’  He looked sideways at her.  ‘Where are we anyway?’  This was starting in the wrong place, but at least it was a start.
    ‘Scotland – somewhere – I think. I’m not sure exactly.’
    ‘Scotland? How the hell did I get to Scotland – on foot –