House of Scarabs Page 8

  Stefan chuckled, dried his hands on the ever-present tea towel, and kissed Charlie on both cheeks.

  "Not for a long time. The last Charlie to do so was six feet, four inches with a rippling six pack and much hairier legs than you, poppet. My, he was fine!" Stefan stared into the ether. "Still mustn't get distracted by tales of yore. The focaccia still needs ten minutes, so why don't you head for home? No point in both of us hanging around."

  "Are you sure? I don't mind waiting. Really, I don't. Besides, it gives me a chance to sample some of your wares," she said with a dirty grin.

  "That's what worries me. You'll gobble up our profits. Now shoo. Go sample some of your husband's instead. You need to work off some of those calories you've been swallowing."

  "Hey, bring on the curves! The more, the merrier. No one ever complained about Marilyn Monroe's voluptuous figure."

  "There's a difference between curves and podge, my sweet. Now leave a maestro to his art. Shoo..."

  Leaving, she leaned back around the door and blew kisses back to him. "Night, hotcake."

  Stefan burst out laughing. "Leave the shop door open, honey. I'm expecting Mrs. Trollope to pick up her grandbaby's christening cake," he shouted after her.

  "Open - got it," she bellowed back. The doorbell jingled as she left.

  Fifteen minutes later, he was taking the flatbreads out of the ovens when the bell went again. "Damnation!" he muttered under his breath. Leaving the kitchen, he shouted down the stairs, "Hi there. I'm just taking things out of the oven. Come on up, Mrs. T."

  "We're just having a wander. We're fine. I'll shout if we need you," a slightly accented female voice answered.

  Cursing under his breath, he realised he should have asked Charlie to put the closed sign on the door. Oh, well, never mind. He'd go down once he'd stored the freshly baked bread and herd them out of the shop.

  Humming to himself, he tore a hunk of the bread and dipped it in extra virgin olive oil. Not bad, old man. He never ceased to get pleasure from his baking skills, and let's face it, his days of needing to stay in trim were long behind him. No Charlies, male or female, on his horizon anymore, so he'd take pleasure where he could find it.

  He ground pepper over the breads, sprinkled fresh rosemary and drizzled oil, and stacked them into the store cupboard to season overnight. Wiping his hands, he hosed the baking trays to remove crumbs and then loaded them in the washer, which he turned on to run.

  He heard the noise before he saw anything – a whooshing roar followed by crackling and pops. It sounded wrong and dangerous. He rushed out of the café, down the old, worn wooden steps, and stopped in his tracks.

  A wall of fire danced along the shelves and fondled the ceiling. He stared in horror, realising flames blocked every exit. Turning on his heel, he ran up the stairs, to the top floor. There was no way to get to the guys in the office, but he could call from the storeroom's internal line. His fingers shaking, he dialed the extension number.

  "Gerhard, call the fire brigade. The ground floor's an inferno."

  "What? I don't understand."

  "We're on fire. I'm in the stockroom. I can't get out, but I'll barricade the door with wet towels to stop the smoke. Call them - hurry."

  Gerhard stared at handset. "My God, the shop's on fire!" He shook as he told them. He dialed 999, fumbling in his haste. Nothing. The phone was dead. "Ellie, call the Fire Services from your mobile. Schnell! Schnell!"

  Ellie grabbed her mobile and dialed. She stared at the handset. "There's no coverage. It hasn't got reception. Ben, you're on a different network. Call 999 and ask for Fire."

  Both Ben and Gerhard reached for their phones. Ellie ran to the door and looked down the stairs. The smoke was drifting up towards her. She slammed the door, took off her fleece, and poured the cold tea and coffee over it, then rolled it into a thick twine, which she wedged across the bottom of the door.

  She turned to see both men staring at their mobiles, Gerhard repeatedly shaking his head.

  "I don't have a signal."

  "Me neither..."

  "I've checked the staircase. There's no fire, but smoke is rising. Gerhard, does Stefan have a mobile?"

  Gerhard shook his head, his eyes welling. "No, he doesn't believe in them. He says he's always here or at home."

  "Is there any other way out of the building?" Ben asked.

  Gerhard shook of his head.

  "You mean we're trapped in here with no way of calling for help?" The realisation hit hard.

  Ben felt an icy calm descend over him. He flicked through solution after solution as his mind assessed their viability, only to discard them. Ellie rushed to Gerhard's side and hugged the man who'd withered and aged, tears pouring soundlessly down his high-boned, finely sculpted cheeks.

  "It's okay, Gerhard. We'll find a way. Maybe it's just an illusion again. Let's try to cancel it."

  "No," said Ben firmly. "It's no illusion. Stefan saw it."

  He was silent for a moment, deep in thought. Ellie caught the birth of the idea in his eyes, which brightened and focused.

  "I think it's time to test your theory of Familiars, Gerhard. If they are here to keep us together, then it stands to reason they don't want us served up as KFC specials. Let's use them to protect us."

  Gerhard didn't register Ben's words, but Ellie did and realised the potential merit of the idea.

  "How do we call them? We don't know what language they speak. Hell - we don't even know if they understand us."

  Acknowledging the validity of Ellie's remark, Ben felt a bubble of panic rise into his chest, but the desire to protect Gerhard and Ellie tamped it down, and his mind cleared.

  "If we send them a clear mental picture of the fire and an image of us perishing in it, well, my guess is that they'll solve the rest. Of the three, Bastet might be most handy with her protective skills, but we need to get Gerhard to call her forth. Can you reach him?"

  They both shot worried glances at the husk of the man devoid of his trademark vitality.

  "I'll try. He's in shock, but I'll try. In the meantime, try to get in touch with Stefan and make certain he's okay. Tell him to fill in the cracks around the door to stop smoke ingress and whatever he does, not to open any windows. It'll create a wind tunnel and feed the flames."

  "Got ya."

  "Gerhard. Gerhard…" She stroked his face. "If you can hear me, blink your eyes. Gerhard, sweetie, you need to come back to us. The only way to save ourselves and Black Cat Books is for you to call your cat - Bastet. You need to do that for us, okay?" She continued to stroke his cheek.

  "Oh, for God's sake, we don't have all day." Ben leaned across her and slapped Gerhard's face with all his might.

  "Ben! Have mercy on the man. He's in shock."

  Gerhard's head shook, and he turned to them.

  "When a person's in shock, they need a jumpstart, Ells, not mothering. Now, Gerhard, you need to call Bastet. You need to visualise the fire and all of us dying in it and scream her name. Scream it mentally, that is. Do you understand? She's our only hope. Call her - NOW."

  He turned and picked up the phone to call Stefan on the internal line.

  "Are you okay? Ellie asked.

  "Don't worry about an old man, my sweet. Ben's right. We need to call our creatures. Let me focus, and maybe you can call yours."

  They closed their eyes, blocked out Ben's conversation, and screamed their dieties’ names. The tingle in their hands warned them of the emergence. They opened their eyes and saw the glowing blue creatures, which jumped from their outstretched palms. They shimmered as a field of blue energy circled the trio, closing at the top and bottom to create a perfect sphere.

  "We did it," Ellie gushed, punching the air. "Now let's show them a visualisation of extending the field to protect the rest of the shop and Stefan."

  Gerhard shook his head miserably. "I don't think they care about anything except our survival."

  "Well, we won't know if we don't try. Come on." They both focused on pu
shing the boundary out, stretching it to protect the upstairs of the shop, both knowing it was too late to preserve the ground floor.

  Ben ended his call and watched them curiously, each face contorting and grimacing as they played mental gymnastics.

  "What are you doing?"

  Ellie explained but with disappointment when the field remained resolutely spherical, unchanged by their efforts.

  "Stefan's panicking. The smoke is getting thick where he is. He wants to go out the skylight onto the roof, but I explained the dangers to him of opening the window, so he's staying put."

  Gerhard stood up and said, "Come on, we must go to him and get him into the sphere."

  "That's lunacy. We'd need to go through the fire to reach him, and if we do that, it would be better to raise the alarm, so the trained fire fighters can rescue him," Ben argued.

  "We have no time. The nearest station's in Bath, a good fifteen minutes away. If the smoke's thick now, he'll be dead by then. We really don't have a choice."

  "And you're that confident in the power of this sphere that you're willing to risk all our lives in something that's – let’s face it – untested?"

  "We don't have any other choice. I can't sit here and let him die. I simply can't."

  "Nor can I," Ellie added.

  Ben studied the two determined faces in front of him. "Okay, if we do this, then let's try to minimise our losses." He closed his eyes and Sobek appeared, jaw gaping open.

  "I'll go on my own. I'm the strongest and fittest. This tower is stone, so it should survive the fire. You stay here. I'll be back."

  "Hang on a just a minute..."

  "I can't accept that. It's my shop - my responsibility."

  Ben ignored the protests and focused his mind on creating a sphere to surrounded himself. Sobek wriggled off his hand, and the large sphere surrounding the three of them contracted to surround just Gerhard and Ellie, whilst a new one unfolded around Ben.

  "Guys, grab the laptops and anything precious, like your watch, Gerhard. If they're with you, they should escape the ravages of the fire. Close the door behind me and block the bottom again. I'll be back as soon as I can with Stefan."

  "Ben - please, don't. We should stick together."

  He smiled at Ellie and winked. "See you, Ells." He dashed out the door, slamming it behind him.

  The stairs had become thick with smoke, but within the sphere, the air remained clear. He pushed open the door at the bottom to an inferno that whipped up the stone stairs, catching the red velvet rope handrail in curling, racing flames. He jumped backwards, shocked by the extent of fire. The internal structure of the shop was unrecognisable. Flames roared, jumping from one location to another like a voracious, hungry animal.

  He took a deep breath, swallowed, and stepped forward. He closed the door behind him, confident that the stone staircase and tower would protect his friends. With his heart beating crazily and his palms laced with nervous perspiration, he stepped into the heart of the beast.

  He gasped with relief when he realised that the climate within his sphere remained unchanged, despite the external furnace. The smoke made it impossible to see the route to the main staircase, so he closed his eyes and visualised the route. When he opened his eyes, he saw the crocodile's blue haze drifting farther into the flames. He followed, climbing over collapsed, flaming bookcases and tables and around husks of sofas. The staircase was a snarling shaft of angry flames, burnt through in places, blackened everywhere.

  Jeez, they don't look strong enough to take my weight, he thought. Oh, well. In for a dollar, in for a dime.

  He focused, and the sphere lifted from the ground to float up the stairs.

  At the top, the door was badly charred. Ben searched around. If he opened the door, the flames would engulf the room in seconds, but if he didn't, Stefan's prospects were gloomy. There was one skylight in the room, but it opened onto a roof with an acute pitch. Stefan wasn't the most athletic man, and Ben himself wouldn't fancy scaling that roof. Anyway, opening the window would feed the fire and might even blow the door.

  Coming to a decision, he shouted to Stefan to turn the desk to the wall and to hide in the foot-well between the wall and the leg board. He hoped the fire would spread over the ceiling, giving him a chance to leap in and reach Stefan. He waited for Stefan to acknowledge his request.

  "Stefan, did you hear me?" Silence. "Stefan?" The silent pause was eternal.

  Shoot. Either he can't hear me through this damnable sphere or… jeez, Ben thought.

  "STEFAN!" he tried one last time.

  Okay, Ben, this puts a whole new spin on things. Think, man, think. His choices were limited. He reached for the handle and pushed, raced through, and slammed the door shut against the surging flames.

  Spinning around, he saw Stefan collapsed on the floor in the furthest corner of the storeroom. He'd cleared a space of all stock, presumably as a fire break. He was slumped, half-sitting, half-lying, on the floor. The room was thick with smoke.

  Ben rushed to his side and tried to pull him into the sphere, but it moulded itself against Stefan like a rubber surface through which Ben could feel and touch but couldn't permeate. Ben gave up and visualised Stefan within the sphere with him. Nothing happened. He tried again whilst trying to feel for a pulse on Stefan's wrist. Stefan opened his eyes and looked at Ben.

  "Are you an angel?" he rasped, peering around but not seeing. Ben laughed with relief.

  "I'm more often referred to as a demon, but I'll take angel." Stefan didn't respond. "Stefan? Listen to me, man." When Stefan didn't respond again, Ben tapped his hand. Stefan jumped a little and smiled again.

  "Just wait until I tell my old dears about this one. It will keep the café gossip active for years. Old Stefan having a guardian angel."

  Ben was laughing when the explosion hit.

  The room imploded, and a tornado of fire spiraled through the floor. Sound reverberated throughout Ben's body as wood and stone projectiles hit the outer shell and ricocheted away. The sphere flew up before plummeting through a gaping hole caused by the explosion. Flames encircled it, a macabre wrapping that danced across the surface. The fall seemed to last an eternity before Sobek wrestled it back under control and slowed the descent. He landed on the flaming, charred pile of debris that was all that remained of Black Cat Books.

  Ben looked down. He was clutching Stefan's hand, complete with a diamond-studded pinkie ring. Just his hand.

  Guardians of the Ankh

  Eurydice watched the fire rage through the building, feasting on all the books and galloping ever upwards in its hungry search for more fuel. She watched wordlessly, tears streaming down her cheeks as an explosion rocked the building, bringing down the roof in its wake. Just an old, turreted tower remained of Black Cat Books.

  She leaned back further into the shadows as an old lady ran down the street towards the shop. The lady let out a scream, and soon, the street was full of gawkers. Eurydice pulled out her phone and typed a single sentence.

  Mission complete - House of Scarabs eradicated.

  She slid away unobserved, just a shadow in a dark night.

  Shock

  "Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Bendall. As I explained, it's clear that they used an accelerant in combination with a sophisticated remote charge to start the fire. That along with a disabled sprinkler system and cut telephone lines make it clear this wasn't an accident. I'm afraid this is now a murder investigation. We'll be in touch." The detective stopped in the doorway, shuffling from foot to foot. "I'm truly sorry for your loss. I met Mr. Morris on many occasions. He was... charming."

  Swallowing back a sob, Ellie nodded, teeth gritted to control her grief. "Yes. That he was... that he was, indeed. Thank you, Detective. Goodnight."

  She closed the door behind him before huge, round tears escaped, washing her cheeks as she rested back against the door. Stefan was gone. It didn't seem possible, but in the hours since the fire, reality had rudely forced the truth forward. The m
an, so full of life, a whirlwind of humour and vitality, was no more. Someone had taken him from them. Deliberately taken him. Ended his life, brutally and savagely. She sank down the door onto her haunches, staring at nothing, numb.

  With a deep breath, she stood up, straightened her clothes, and went into the drawing room. Ben and Gerhard sat facing each other on opposite cream sofas, like marble statues, fully formed yet vacant. Gerhard's skin seemed tissue-thin, stretched cruelly across his cheekbones. He was as pale as death. He hadn't uttered a word the entire journey back to Scarab's Rest and had registered nothing since. The detective had given up asking him questions and had directed all his queries to Ellie.

  Ben's bronzed appearance limited the visual impact of shock, but his eyes were horrifying to observe. He looked like he'd had his soul extracted without anaesthesia. Just a shell remained.

  Neither registered Ellie's reappearance. She doubted they'd noticed she or the detective had gone. As she glanced from one to the other, she realised she needed reinforcements. Should she call Charlie? She'd thaw out the arctic circle with a blast of her smile. No, not Charlie. Ellie couldn’t face telling her about Stefan yet. A soft rap at the door disturbed her thoughts. Retracing her steps, she opened the door to the gentle face of Shannon.

  She fell into his arms, sobbing.

  "Hush now, my sweet Ellie bee. Hush now. Tell old Shannon all about it." He rocked her in his arms, murmuring words of comfort as he'd used to when she was a child crying over a grazed knee or a lost teddy bear. "Ah, my wee honey, cry it all out and then you can tell me all your sorrows."

  He guided them into the kitchen, warmed by the old AGA stove that had served countless generations of Ellie's family. He sat in her grandfather's carver chair and pulled Ellie down onto his lap. Holding her, he waited out the storm, smoothing her hair away from the torrent of tears and kissing the top of her head. After a few minutes, Ellie regained her composure and pulled away. She reminded him so sorely of Elspeth, her grandmother, heartbroken but determined to fight on no matter what. The women in that family bore tremendous hearts capable of great acts of bravery and endless love.