Anthracite by Matt Thomas

Author:Matt Thomas [Thomas, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unbound
Published: 2021-08-04T22:00:00+00:00

26

Sympathy for the Devil

Something struck me as queer about Llywsiffer from the start, like he was less a man than an elaborate illusion – a living disguise masking something far worse. If you glimpsed him out of the corner of your eye the facade slipped just a little, and you got a terrible indication of the hideous creature beneath. His true visage didn’t lay still, but writhed and slithered like something pale you might find under a rock. I tried looking directly at him, but that was worse. Somehow we’d found ourselves sprawled in the back of his limo, sipping cognac while trying to ignore the stench of woodsmoke pouring off us. It was a step up from being burnt alive as a sacrificial offering, but not by much.

Llywsiffer cleared his throat and fanned the air with a silk handkerchief, lewdly decorated with hypnotic astronomical symbols. His voice was oddly sibilant. ‘Welcome, my young friends. So good of you to come.’

Trickery it might have been but our host cut a dashing figure – tall, gaunt and immaculately dressed. His tweed suit and elaborate cravat seemed from a bygone era, but I knew he must be a cunning political operator – Nosferatu with better PR; a dark conjurer who really did saw pretty girls in half. He regarded us coolly from beneath a bushy grey monobrow. His eyes were sunken and dark rimmed, but a crimson light flickered within. His piercing gaze ranged over us, making my skin crawl and my mind itch. The presidential candidate continued.

‘Our mutual friend here,’ he gestured languidly towards Taliesin, ‘informs me some fresh information has come to light – information which has a bearing on our plans. Experience has taught me to have faith in his visions.’

Gwen seemed in a mood to be difficult. ‘That’s nice of him. Did he also tell you there are laws against murdering innocent people? Even up here human sacrifice is frowned upon.’

Llywsiffer tittered, a sound like some monstrous cricket chirping. ‘Oh, come, come, young lady, let’s not be melodramatic. Don’t play the special snowflake with me.’

My companion’s lip curled in anger. ‘Enough snowflakes can form a blizzard. We know what you’ve got planned for this nation. We’re gonna freeze you out.’

Our host inspected his obscenely long manicured nails. ‘I very much doubt that, my girl. None of us here can claim to be innocent. Don’t climb on your moral high horse with me – I’ll have it boiled down for glue.’

While this exchange was taking place I couldn’t help but notice Taliesin slouched in a dim corner. He was tinkering with what looked like a smartphone, for all I knew posting a status update. Weird, I wouldn’t have had him down as a social media addict. Perhaps he was right – people are not always what they seemed. But this was no time for idle speculation; courageously I could see I would have to play the peacemaker.

‘I think what my friend here was trying to say,’ I shot her a withering look, ‘is that we’re very grateful you called off the ceremony.

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