The Warriors of Brin-Hask by Cerberus Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

was not easy.
    She wondered if changing his mind would change his attitude, too. It’d be nice if
he could stop being the Mega-Jerk and go back to being the more-or-less decent big
brother she remembered.
    He saw her looking at him and said, ‘What do you want?’ Without waiting for a reply,
he turned and stomped upstairs to his room. She heard a door slam and, a few seconds
later, the din of music being played way too loud.
    Amelia shook her head and walked out to the veranda. Lady Naomi had fetched the Brin-Hask
their seaweed at last, and they were sitting around a campfire they had built on
a paving stone, and roasting it on the end of sticks – the same way Amelia would
roast marshmallows. Enrick the bard was singing again, and when he got to the chorus,
all the warriors joined in, trilling like canaries in beautiful harmonies:
    Kill, kill, kill them all dead!
    Give me an axe and I’ll hack off his head!
    So, kill, kill, kill!

    Charlie was humming along with them.
    It was all as cheerful, grisly, fun, weird, amazing, and kind of gross and unnerving
as Amelia had come to expect of the Gateway Hotel. She looked around, feeling very
fond of the place, and sad that they’d probably all be fired (or in jail) by this
time tomorrow.
    At the corner of the hotel Amelia saw a shadow flit past, a black coat billowing
behind and the flash of a white face as Leaf Man glanced back the way he’d come.
He looked satisfied.

Amelia slept late the next day. The Brin-Hask celebrations had gone far into the
night, and Mum and Dad – knowing it could be their last night at the hotel – had
let Amelia stay up to enjoy it. Mary hadn’t tried to argue with Charlie, she just
agreed straight away that yes, he could stay the night too. None of them had slept
much, what with the intensity of the battle behind them, the dread of the day ahead
of them, and in between – those eerily sweet yet murderous songs of the Brin-Hask,
and the pretty revolting stench of burning seaweed.
    The sun was high in the sky before Amelia stirred. Charlie was still fast asleep
on the spare bed and seemed determined to stay that way, no matter how hard Amelia
poked him.
    ‘Leave me alone!’ he groaned into his pillow.
    ‘Don’t you want to check out the kitchen?’ Amelia goaded him. ‘Look for the control
centre or whatever linked all the cyber-rats? Check for unexploded bombs?’
    Charlie sat up with a jerk, his face alight with possibility, but then a thought
flickered in his eyes, and he said dully, ‘No, you do it. I’ll come down later.’
    Amelia frowned at him. ‘You don’t want to pick through rat carcasses and hunt for
weapons?’
    ‘No.’ He didn’t meet her eye.
    ‘Charlie?’
    ‘Later!’ He thudded back onto his pillow, rolled over and started fake-snoring until
Amelia left him to it.
    Downstairs the kitchen looked worse than she’d remembered. At night, under electric
light and with the smoke still lifting into the air, it had been impressive and dramatic.
In the morning sunlight, though, it was just a filthy mess. Dad’s shoulders slumped
as he gazed at it, and Mum patted his back gently.
    ‘When does Mr Snavely get here?’ said Amelia.
    ‘About twenty minutes,’ said Dad.
    ‘Do you know who he’s bringing with him?’ Mum asked.
    Dad shook his head. ‘One of the big three. If it’s Arxish, we’re done for. He’s wanted
the gateway run by Control for years, and any excuse will do. If it’s Stern, we’ve
got a chance – he’s sympathetic to leaving gateways to the locals, as long as they’re
up to it.’ He pulled a miserable face at that. ‘But if it’s the new one, Rosby –
I don’t know. No-one knows much about her yet.’
    ‘Will we really go to jail, Dad?’
    ‘Oh, no!’ He managed a smile at that. ‘I’m sure not. Mr Snavely is always threatening
stuff like that. He wishes he had that sort of power but no, it’s not up to him to
send anyone to jail.’
    ‘But,’ Amelia pressed on, ‘we’re fired,