Peril Read online

  Peril

  Joss Stirling

  Frost Wolf

  Copyright © 2017 Joss Stirling

  First published 2017 by Frost Wolf

  ISBN: 978-1-910426-08-1

  www.jossstirling.co.uk

  Cover image: Nicholas Burningham/Alamy Stock Photo

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For Lucy

  And with thanks to the Peril Super-Team who gave me such helpful feedback:

  Alexandra Aramburo, Tamara Ashton, Alejandra Barranco, Tia Barton, Charisse Baxter, Emma Bilson, Helen Blakemore, Emily Bown, Sammy Bredesen, Narda Calles, Amy Carroll, Vicki Cawley, Ellie Chapman, Katarzyna Chmaj, Lexie Chorlton, Alana Collins, Maddy Cozens, Rachel Cruz, Melissa Curtis, Rachel Denton, Rachael Doig, Catherine Evans, Jess Evans, Maud Grefte, Valeria Guerrero, Lisa Guest, Stephanie Gurman, Siobhan Hayes, Rosa Hernandez, Jodie Hicks, Mia Hoddell, Georgia House, Sarah Beth James, Nina Jansen, Ria Jones, Roisin Kelly, Dani King, Kata Kosztyi, Melisa Kumas, Rachel Langford, Laura Laszlo, Kirsty Ledger, Steph Lott, Chloe Madge, Estefi Mari, Ciara McGhie, Patricia Medina, Lilly Moore, Hannah Muir, Nina Mueller, Jime Murga, Andrea Navarete, Robin Newman, Sophie Nicholson, Megan Ord, Beth Paffey, Sarah Peters, Ana Maria Pirlea, Gracie Price, Greete Ratsep, Natalya Red, Alice Shaw, Nelly Silver, Katja Stout, Sarah Suttling, Helen Toovey, Molly Tunley, Giselle Turner, An-Sofie Valeemput, Andrea Valeri, Chelsea Van Gompel, Rheeba Van Niekerk, Marinka Van Wingerden, Emily Yates.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  About the Author

  Also by Joss Stirling

  Prologue

  ‘There are gifts you do not want. Mine has marked me out to be hunted.

  Now I am the last of my kind.

  Because I see peril.’

  Meri Marlowe, in her diary

  Mount Vernon, Washington D.C., fourteen years earlier

  The last day Meri Marlowe saw her parents alive was spent at George Washington’s home. The four-year-old Meri didn’t know why they were there waiting in the heat to look at a bunch of old stuff. The big white house with the red roof lay at the end of the drive. Worse, it was also at the end of a slow moving line of people all wanting to enter. The day was humid and the queue snaked out into the sunshine. She had already decided the visit wasn’t going to be worth it, even with the promise of an ice cream. Theo had managed to get out of coming by saying he had to catch up on his reading. Meri wished she had stayed behind with him because he would’ve allowed her to watch cartoons.

  ‘Mom, do we have to?’ Meri asked in a low voice, tugging at the hem of her mother’s checked blouse.

  Her mother brushed the top of Meri's head, moving her baseball cap to shade her eyes. ‘Darling, you know this is your father’s highlight of the tour. He came here at your age and he wants to share it with you. It’ll be fun. Mount Vernon, George Washington's house. You know who George Washington was?’

  Meri scanned the dusty ground for inspiration. Her teacher at kindergarten had talked about him the week before. ‘He cut down a tree. A cherry tree.’ It had seemed a terrible waste to her. Real cherries were red and sticky and tasted much nicer than cherry-flavoured candy. Mom had bought them some just yesterday and had taught her to spit out the stones. She’d managed to launch one and it hit Theo but he hadn’t minded. He was good that way.

  Her mother laughed. ‘Yes, George Washington did cut down a tree—among other things.’

  More facts tumbled out now Meri had got going. ‘His face is on money too.’ Meri was quite proud she could remember that. ‘And he has funny hair.’

  The lady in the queue behind them smiled at her mother. ‘Isn’t she a darling? They say the most direct things at that age.’

  ‘How true.’ Her mom knelt beside Meri and took out a dollar bill. ‘He only has funny hair because it was fashionable when he lived. That was a long time ago.’ Her long brown locks dangled around Meri, making a little sweet-smelling cave.

  ‘I like your hair better.’ Meri batted it, making it sway like the bead curtain over their back door at home in California.

  ‘Pleased to hear that, munchkin.’

  A shadow fell over them. ‘Two ice creams as ordered, ladies.’ Dad held out the cones. ‘You’d better be quick. They’re already melting.’

  By the time Meri had eaten hers, they were at the front of the line. Her mom wiped Meri’s fingers with a wet tissue, ending up with a quick swipe of her mouth before Meri could duck. The lovely taste of strawberry was now spoiled with lemony soap.

  ‘I don’t know about you but I’m dying out here. Let’s go inside.’ Dad led them to a building where they could get out of the sun. An old lady sat on a low stage at the end doing some spinning like a witch from a fairytale. Meri couldn’t decide if that meant she was a goodie or a baddie—it went both ways in the stories.

  ‘Who’s that?’ she whispered.

  ‘That’s Martha Washington—well, someone pretending to be her,’ said Dad. ‘She’s here to tell you about the house. Go on—you can ask her questions.’ He pushed Meri gently forward.

  Meri went and sat with the other children on the benches at the front while her parents took seats several rows behind. Martha was wearing a long flowery dress with a white collar and she had a puffy cap on her head. She seemed quite skilled at spinning, managing to talk and work the wheel at the same time, which Meri found much more interesting than what she was saying. As Martha's hands moved, Meri noticed that there was a glowing spiky line around her wrist. It was very pretty, a little like the cutout of a snowflake Meri had made last Christmas. It glowed faintly like the imprint you saw on your eyelids after staring at the sun by mistake. Looking closer, Meri noticed that the edge of a similar design was peeking out of the collar. Did that mean the snowflakes went all the way from wrist to neck? If so, that was awesome! They were such a pretty colour, somewhere between blue and green, but she had never been able to describe it properly to anyone else as only she and her parents saw that shade. Not even Theo or any of her friends. They were colour-blind but Mom said it was rude to mention it. Were skin patterns the fashion when Mr and Mrs Washington were alive, like the funny hair? Did that come before or after the dinosaurs? Meri sucked the end of her ponytail. Things were very confusing.

  Were any of the other grownups dressed in the skin snowflakes, Meri wondered, taking a quick look around the room. A guide wearing a short-sleeved shirt had just entered with his tour party. He had the glowy squiggles but his were a different shape, sort of all swirly like the ice-cream she’d eaten. They lit up his face with the same special colour. Her mom had told her the colour was called peril, but Meri wasn’t to mention it to her kindergarten teacher even though it was all over the classroom, especially at the painting table. And if she forgot and talked about it, Mom told Meri she should say peril was all make-believe and that she didn’t really see it. That was confusing too as Mom usually said not to lie.

  ‘Now, do any of you children have any questions for me?’ asked the lady-pretending-to-be-Martha.

  The four children either side of Meri were struck dumb by being put on the spot. Meri wanted to raise her hand to please the lady but
didn't know what to ask.

  ‘How about you, dear? You seem as though you have a question.’ Martha was looking directly at her.

  ‘Me?’ Meri wriggled in her seat.

  Martha nodded.

  ‘I…um….’ She wasn’t going to mention the colour but she did wonder about the pretty pictures, ‘why have you got snowflakes on you?’

  Martha’s expression went from a kindly smile to the round-eyed shock. Meri knew that face: her parents made it when she blurted out something she shouldn’t in front of strangers. Most of the adults behind her, however, laughed indulgently. The freckle-faced boy next to her elbowed her in the ribs.

  ‘They’re not snowflakes, silly. They’re flowers.’

  After the briefest moment of gaping like a stranded fish, Martha gathered her wits. She jumped to her feet, yarn flying like one of Spider Man’s webs. Searching frantically for the guide in the audience, she pointed at Meri.

  ‘Jim, she can see them!’

  But her parents were already either side of Meri and pulling her away. Dad lifted her into his arms and ran from the room.

  ‘Hey, stop them!’ The guide with the squiggles was running after them. The marks were blazing much brighter from his skin now even though they were out in the sunshine. Martha had pushed aside her spinning wheel and was chasing them, her white cap flapping like wings either side of her ears, peril-coloured light distorting her features so she now looked like a bird with a hooked beak. More people were joining the pursuit—the unsmiling man from the ticket office, a lady gardener with a wicked pair of shears. She was talking into a black thing on her shoulder. It was like the illustration in Meri’s fairytale book of the people chasing the little Gingerbread Man.

  ‘They want to eat us,’ Meri sobbed.

  The crowd outside didn't know how to react, making way for them as Dad bundled his family past.

  ‘Does the little one need a doctor?’ asked a woman, grabbing Dad’s sleeve. ‘I’m a nurse.’

  ‘Keep back. They’re terrorists!’ shouted the guide, which immediately made the crowds run screaming from the three of them. Chaos ensued as children were gathered up, picnics abandoned, and shelter sought in house and outbuildings.

  Paying no heed to Keep Off notices, Dad charged straight across a flowerbed and through a bush.

  'Quickly, Naia! Why didn't we see?' panted her dad, sweat pouring from his brow.

  Meri knew she’d done something bad—so bad her parents weren’t even telling her off. She screwed up her face to hold in the tears. The gardens jolted by, a blur of hedges and summer flowers.

  Dad next ignored a No Entry sign and ran right past the front of the big house, wide expanse of river to his left. Meri’s hat jolted off. Not even missing a step, her mom snatched up the fallen cap and crammed it back on Meri’s head, hiding her face from the pursuers.

  ‘Where can we go, Blake? They’ll have staked out the parking lot by now.’

  Meri’s dad had his really scared face on—the one he wore the time when Meri ran in front of a car. He glanced up at a signpost. ‘Call Theo at the hotel. Tell him to look for Meri in the Pioneer Farm. That’s where we’re going.’

  More jogging. Meri was feeling sick now. She heard her mother gabble out a message to their best friend, sprinkled with words like ‘disaster’, ‘enemies’ and ‘immediately’.

  ‘What did I do wrong, Daddy?’ Meri sobbed as he sprinted down a woodland path, feet skidding on the leaf mould.

  ‘Nothing, darling. This is not your fault.’ Her father hid her face against his chest as they took a shortcut through some trees. His shoes clonked on a wooden walkway and they entered into a stuffy, hay-scented barn. ‘I just didn’t expect today…stupid risk. It’s our fault—not yours.’

  But she knew that was a lie. She must've done something very bad.

  ‘No, Blake, we can't leave her here!’ protested her mom.

  Panic bloomed, hot and ugly in Meri’s tummy. ‘I'll be good, I promise, Mommy. Don't leave me.’

  ‘Hide under there.’ Dad dumped her in a deep drift of hay near a tethered horse, a real big one that smelt horrible. Would it tread on her? Meri was sure it would. ‘Don't move till Theo fetches you, got that? It’s really important you do exactly what I say.’

  Meri whimpered.

  ‘You mustn't come out for anyone else, OK, darling? Not a peep, not a squeak.’ He brushed a tear from her cheek.

  ‘Please, Blake,’ moaned her mom.

  ‘What else do you suggest, Naia?’ He sounded furious but Meri could tell he was mostly terrified. ‘We can't draw them away fast enough if we’re carrying her. We have to make them think she’s somewhere else. We don't know how many Perilous there are hunting us.’

  Mom looked so pale in the dim light of the barn. ‘You're right, you're right, I know it but I just can’t!’

  Dad gripped Mom’s shoulders and gave her a little shake. ‘Then we all die. At least this way we all have a chance at living.’

  Mom sank to her knees on the hay and gathered Meri into her arms. ‘Be brave, Meri. Do as your Dad said and wait for Theo. Remember, precious, we love you more than anything.’

  Dad ran to the door, picking up an ancient rake. ‘Naia, they're coming!’

  ‘We love you, sweetheart, so much!’

  ‘We’re doing this for her. You've got to leave her. Into the woods. Here, cradle this sack and make it look like we still have her. Put the hat on it.’

  Meri felt her mother's hot fingers pull from hers. ‘Mommy!’

  ‘If you love us, you'll be quiet,’ warned Dad.

  Meri zipped up her lips, not even whimpering as more hay was piled on her head.

  ‘Be safe, little one.’

  Prickly and hot under the stalks, Meri listened so hard it felt like her ears were humming. There was the sound of footsteps running away, then silence. The horse shifted its hooves in the heat. Then came the babble of many people approaching, all speaking a foreign language. The barn echoed with too many feet on the planks. Mingled with that racket, Meri heard distant pops, two then another two in quick succession. A terrible dread filled her, though she wasn't sure why. Somehow she just knew that she wouldn't see her parents again.

  Wimbledon, London, before the flood.

  ‘Don’t be shy, Kel. Go outside and find Ade.’

  Kel looked up through his fringe of fair curls at his father, a mile of denim clad leg at this angle. ‘I don’t want to.’ Last thing he wished to do was let go of Dad’s hand and join the children playing in the paddling pool in the back garden. There were three of them, all strangers.

  His dad crouched beside him and brushed the hair out of Kel’s eyes. ‘This is the day we told you about. You’re going to live with Ade now in this house. He’s your prince and you’re to be his bodyguard when you’re trained. Right now we want you to be friends.’

  Kel bit his thumbnail. ‘He’s a prince—like in the stories?’

  ‘Yes, but a real one, not storybook. A secret one. Bad people want to kill him—the Teans, remember what I told you about them?’

  Kel nodded solemnly. He had had nightmares the last few weeks about the Teans—burnings, whips, bloodied fangs and demon-eyes.

  ‘Ade will need people around him when he’s grown up, people he can trust absolutely. You put him first from now on, OK?’

  It was dawning on Kel that Dad was saying goodbye. ‘What about you and Jenny?’

  His father smiled, but it was a little strained at the corners where normally he had deep dimples. ‘We’ve got our jobs too but we’ll see you whenever we get holiday. And Ade will visit his family from time to time so we’ll be there, guarding our people.’ He reached out and tugged the cords on Kel’s blue hoodie. ‘We’ve been in service to Ade’s family for as long as our family can remember. It’s what we Douglases do. It’s what your mother gave her life for.’

  Kel looked down at his bare toes wriggling in his sandals. The loss of his mother was raw. She had been killed by Teans whi
le on a job in America a few months ago. Kel kept waking up and thinking she was still alive. Remembering she wasn’t was almost as bad as when he had first heard the news.

  His dad squeezed Kel’s shoulder. ‘I started with the king at your age so I know what it’s like. You’re going to be confused for a while, a little lost, but then you’ll make friends and you’ll get a new second family here. You’ll fit in.’

  Kel’s lip wobbled dangerously. It had been drummed into him that Douglases didn’t cry so he mustn’t let his parents down. ‘But I don’t think I’m going to make a good guard, Dad,’ he whispered.

  His father curved his mouth, not quite smiling. ‘We all think that but with the right training, you’ll do great. It’s in the genes. Go on, Kel, make a start as I’ve taught you: no hesitation, be brave. Make your mother proud.’

  Swallowing back tears, Kel took a step out into the sunshine. The boys in the pool broke off squirting each other with water pistols to watch the stranger approach.

  Kel raised a hand. ‘Hi.’ He wished he had better first words but that was all he could think of saying.

  Behind him he heard a woman talking to his father. ‘Commander Rill, thanks so much for bringing Kelvin today. Your family can always be relied on.’

  ‘We heard there was a need and we could provide,’ his dad said gruffly. ‘And since we lost Marina…. I can’t look after him and do my job—not like before.’

  ‘I understand. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Kel’s mother died doing what she believed in. We both knew that what happens to Ade and his family is the difference between survival and extinction for us. You can’t ask too much when you look at it like that.’