to wherever they’re based.”
“I’ll come,” said Ash. Seeing the jackal rakshasa in the flesh had brought it all back, all the rage and pain of what had happened in India and how she’d killed his uncle and aunt and threatened Lucky. He wanted to deal with her.
Parvati shook her head. “No. She doesn’t know you’re here, Ash; let’s keep it that way. She could lead us to Savage, and starting a fight will accomplish nothing. This isn’t just about you.”
Ash understood. There was Lucks, his parents. He didn’t want them getting involved. Keeping them safe was what mattered.
Khan backed away, leaving them alone. Parvati patted the lump of diamond in her pocket. “We did good, Ash.”
“You’re going already?”
“The sooner I get the Koh-i-noor away, the better.” She kissed him on the cheek lightly. It was barely a touch and over almost immediately.
It didn’t feel like enough.
“Parvati…”
She smiled. “It was good seeing you again, Ash. You look after yourself.”
She crossed the road to where Khan waited, and then the two of them disappeared into the London fog.
“
“You’re lucky I’m here at all.” Ash waved over his shoulder. “Errands to run.” He’d planned to catch the bus back, but some accident due to the fog had the traffic at a standstill. He’d ended up walking all the way.
“Well, it’s been an epic waste of time so far,” muttered Akbar through the scarf that covered half his face. He stood, cold, shivering and miserable in his duffel coat. “We’re only here because of you, you know that?”
An impenetrable fog now covered London, hiding everything beyond three metres away. It was like being lost in a world of ghosts.
Despite the weather, the fireworks display was going ahead. There was a whoosh in the darkness and some muffled burst from somewhere, but all you could see was dense mist, no colours and certainly no firework explosions.
“Is anyone else here?” Ash asked.
Josh shrugged. “This is the most unbanging Guy Fawkes Night ever.”
Small groups of spectators drifted in and out of the mists. Most were families with small kids waving their sparklers, but Ash recognised a few people from school.
“What’s that?” He could hear something, a distant, dull roar.
“Up ahead.” Josh pointed.
Through the haze of mist and smoke moved a blurry orange glow. As Ash came towards it, flickers of raw heat cut through the icy night air. Gloomy silhouettes began to solidify around them, ghosts emerging from the mist.
Ash stopped at the rope barrier.
The bonfire raged against the smothering fog. A tower of wooden debris blazed, over fifteen metres tall, the flames intense and rising twice as high. Even at the perimeter ring, a good eleven or twelve metres from the bonfire, the heat made Ash’s skin flushed and sweaty. Monstrous clouds of smoke rose into the sky and millions of tiny, glowing embers swirled and danced like hellish imps in the fire-born draughts.
But the light the bonfire cast out did not extend much further than the rope ring. Beyond, the darkness ruled, crowding around the living fire, waiting for the flames to go out so it could claim everything for itself. Oblivion.
“Did you… did you see Gemma around?” Ash said.
Josh slapped his forehead. “I knew there was something else. Yeah, she’s been looking for you all evening.”
“Where is she?”
“No idea. Could have gone home by now.”
Great. He didn’t have her mobile phone number.
There was another pointless, invisible explosion as some fireworks went off. The crowd gave an ironic, half-hearted cheer.
A cold wind rippled through and the flames swayed. The radiant heat warmed only what faced the flames; Ash’s back felt the chill.
“I’m getting a burger – want one?” asked Josh.
“I’ll come with you,” said Ash.
Dulwich Park had a small food hall attached to it, and tonight there would be burgers, baked potatoes and drinks sold to the shivering crowd. As they made their way closer to the hall, the number of people increased. It seemed everyone was more interested in the food and drink than the fireworks display.
Ash smelled the crisp odour of burning meat and heard the sizzle of onions, his mouth watering. He weaved his way through the crowd, checking his pockets for cash.
“Hiya, Ash.”
Gemma grinned at him, stamping her feet to keep some circulation going. Her hands were stuffed deep into her jeans pockets and she had pulled her bobble hat low over her eyebrows.
She was here. Ash smiled back. The world seemed a brighter, happier place.
“Hi,” he said. “You look frozen.”
“It’s not too bad by the bonfire, but this jumper’s about as thick as tissue.” She gestured to the hall. “Jack’s gone off to get some food.”
“So, Jack’s still around.” Now the world seemed much darker and colder.
“We’re not going out or anything,” said Gemma. “But, y’know how it is…”
“No, not really.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Gemma. She seemed genuinely concerned. Why couldn’t he have more friends like her? Instead he was hanging out with immortal assassins and demons. Maybe he needed to re-evaluate his New Year’s resolutions.
Less demons.
More Gemma.
He blushed. “Er, I’ve been thinking I’ve got the wrong sort of friends.”
“Tell me about it.” Gemma smiled, but her teeth chattered.
Ash whipped off his coat, adjusting his T-shirt to hide the punch dagger sheathed across his back. “Put this on.”
“No. You’re only wearing a T-shirt. You need it more than me.”
“Trust me. I don’t feel the cold much.”
She
