Imajica: The Reconciliation by Clive Barker

Author:Clive Barker [Barker, Clive]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Fantasy - Epic, Epic, Fantasy fiction, Horror, Fiction - Horror, Horror - General, Erotic passion, Dominions, Imaginary places
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 1995-04-20T04:00:00+00:00

“Is that someone you know?”

They looked back along the bridge to see Monday pelting towards them. Seconds later the paint-smeared face was at the taxi window, and Monday was begging to join them.

“You've got to let me come with you, boss. It's not fair if you don't. I gave you my colors, didn't I? Where would you be without my colors?”

“I can't risk your getting hurt,” Gentle said.

“If I get hurt it's my hurt and it's my fault.”

“Are we going, or what?” the driver wanted to know.

“Let me come, boss. Please.”

Gentle shrugged, then nodded. The grin, which had gone from Monday's face during his appeal, returned in glory, and he clambered into the cab, rattling his tobacco tin of chalks like a ju-ju as he did so.

“I brought the colors,” he said, “just in case we need 'em. You never know when we might have to draw a quick Dominion or something, right?”

Though the journey to Judith's flat was relatively short, there were signs everywhere—mostly small, but so numerous their sum became significant—that the days of venomous heat and uncleansing storm were taking their toll on the city and its occupants. There were vociferous altercations at every other corner, and some in the middle of the street; there were scowls and furrows on every passing face.

“Tay said there was a void coming,” Clem remarked as they waited at an intersection for two furious motorists to be stopped from making nooses of each other's neckties. “Is this all part of it?”

“It's bloody madness is what it is,” the cabbie chimed in. “There's been more murders in the last five days than in all of last year. I read that somewhere. And it's not just murders, neither, it's people toppin' themselves. A mate of mine, a cabbie like, was up the Arsenal on Tuesday and this woman just throws herself in front of his cab. Straight under the front wheels. Bloody tragic.”

The fighters had finally been refereed and were being escorted to opposite pavements.

“I don't know what the world's coming to,” the cabbie said. “It's bloody madness.”

His piece said, he turned on the radio as the traffic began moving again, and began whistling 3n out-of-tune accompaniment to the ballad that emerged.

“Is this something we can help stop?” Clem asked Gentle. “Or is it just going to get worse?”

“I hope the Reconciliation will put an end to it. But I can't be certain. This Dominion's been sealed up for so long, it's poisoned itself with its own shit.”

“So we just have to pull down the sod din' walls,” Monday said, with the glee of a born demolisher. He rattled his tin of colors again. “You mark 'em,” he said, “and I'll knock 'em down. Easy.”

The child, Jude had been told, had more purpose in it than most, and she believed it. But what did that mean, besides the risk of its fury if she tried to unhouse it? Would it grow faster than others? Would she be big with it by dusk, and

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