Rise of the Darklings by Paul Crilley Read Free Book Online Page B

our glamour, to see us when we’d rather stay hidden. When you saw the fight this morning—when the piskies’ glamour was weakened—it must have woken your talent. It’s happened before, many times. No doubt it will happen again.”
    “What happens to these Seers?”
    “Sometimes the Invisible Order finds out and recruits them. Sometimes they go mad. Sometimes they write books, paint paintings.” Merrian shrugged. “Sometimes, they just carry on with their lives.”
    “Has it always been like this?” Emily gestured outside. “I mean, have you always been here?”
    Merrian nodded. “For as long as London has existed. And long before that.”
    Emily turned her attention back to the street. Two tall, elegantly dressed women walked past, but it was clear to Emily they weren’t human. Their limbs were too thin, too stretched. Their eyes were beautiful and golden, yet at the same time cold and cruel, as if they had never given or received any kindness, and worse still, didn’t care. A small trunk floated along the ground behind them. As Emily watched, they plucked a dirty bonnet from the head of a young woman and dropped it into the trunk. The woman didn’t notice a thing.
    “What are they doing?”
    “Shopping. Well,
taking
. They’re hoarders. They take everything and anything, as long as it’s made by a human.”
    “Why?”
    “No idea. Never bothered to ask them.”
    Emily was about to ask how many of these “True Seers” there were, but at that moment Ravenhill suddenly stepped into view, framed in the open doorway.
    “Hello, Miss Snow. May I join the party?”
    Merrian cursed and yanked Emily out of the way, pushing the door shut. But not before Ravenhill threw something through the narrow gap. Emily felt a wet splash across her face, and Merrian growled in pain. He turned a key in thelock and staggered back, holding his arm out before him. Emily saw that the skin on his forearm was smoking, and an ugly wound was opening up before her eyes. He staggered to the counter and grabbed some of the leftover paste from that morning, slapping it over his arm.
    “What was that?” asked Emily, frightened.
    “Holy water,” said Corrigan. “Don’t worry, it won’t affect you. Merrian, what do we do?”
    There was a hammering on the door behind them.
    “You need to complete your mission and get the parchment to the Queen. If the Order gets it, there’ll be hell to pay.”
    Corrigan grabbed the satchel and strapped it to his back.
    “Take the girl with you. She knows too much to let the Order get her.”
    Corrigan hesitated. “Are you sure?”
    “Aye, I’m sure. Hurry up. Go out the back way.”
    “What about you?” asked Emily.
    Merrian smiled coldly, and Emily almost felt sorry for Ravenhill. Almost.
    “I’ll delay them,” he said. “I’ve a few tricks up my sleeve. Don’t worry about me.”
    There was another bang on the door. This time it rattled on its hinges.
    “Go, Corrigan. I’ll see you later.”
    Corrigan hesitated. A pane of glass shattered behindthem as a stone flew through the window, hitting one of the book towers. The falling books hit another pile, and this one fell against a cabinet, smashing the glass and sending bottles and jars crashing to the floor.
    Corrigan jumped from the counter onto Emily’s shoulder. “Come on,” he shouted. “Through the curtain.”
    Emily darted behind the counter. She took one last look over her shoulder and saw Merrian arm himself with a club and turn to face the front of the shop.
    Emily ran through a kitchen and yanked open the back door. It led to an overgrown garden, choked thick with grass and nettles and a tall thorn tree. A gate led into a litter-strewn alley.
    Emily stepped through the gate. As soon as she set foot in the alley, there was a shout off to her right, and she turned to see Blackmore running toward her. Emily turned and ran in the opposite direction. The exit to the alley was about fifty paces ahead, a bright gap between the