Songbird by Robin Ive

Author:Robin Ive
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dystopian, dark fantasy, fantasy thriller, paranormal thriller, folklore
Publisher: Robin Ive
Published: 2018-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

41

Loz came across the tribe after a two-hour walk during which he saw no-one. Charlie had told him the route they’d be taking, out west towards Tunbridge Wells, and he knew his friend wouldn’t be forcing the pace and getting too far ahead.

Loz heard the music before he saw them: Stomp Watson’s fiddle, Jacob’s accordion, Charlie’s mandolin, the girls’ percussion. They were camped in a field behind a hedge and just inside its gate.

As he walked into the camp the music stumbled and died, the wheezy notes of Jacob’s accordion the last to fade, the tribe watching Loz and sensing something was wrong, or at least that something had changed.

Cooking was underway, a pot was suspended over a fire, the aroma of the stew wafted through the air. It smelled good, and it made Loz realise how hungry he was. Lily came up to him and placed a hand on his arm, concern showing in her eyes.

‘Just give me a few minutes, would you?’ he asked her. She told him that of course she would, and moved away to re-join the others. Loz went a little further up the slope of the field and sat on the grass in the shade of the hedge. He lit a spliff and after a decent interval, Charlie joined him. Loz handed him the half-smoked joint. Charlie took a drag and blew out a long stream of smoke. He said, ‘I’m thinking it didn’t go so well, back at the farm.’

‘The old man was dead when I got there,’ Loz told him. ‘I found him kneeling beside his wife’s grave, holding a photo of her.’ He paused. ‘I buried him.’

Charlie nodded sagely. ‘That’s tough, mate. It was good you did that. Considerate. You was right to go back, trusting your instincts. Wrong of me to doubt you.’

‘It was just a shame I was too late.’

‘Don’t beat yourself up about it,’ Charlie said. ‘It was his time, and that’s all there is to it.’

Evelyn, never still for long, was on her feet now and cavorting around the camp, doing her strange dance in front of Saxon, the horse stoically ignoring her. The two men watched her for a minute, and then Charlie continued, ‘She’s had another vibe. Something more specific about where the mother of Druanna’s gone. She thinks we should be making for Canterbury.’

‘Really?’ Loz said wearily. ‘How did she work it out this time? By casting stones? Divining the meaning of fox shit?’

‘As it happens,’ Charlie said with dead seriousness, ‘she saw the answer in high clouds a bit earlier.’

Loz gazed at his boots. ‘Micky Lockhart isn’t in Canterbury,’ he said flatly. ‘I hate to disillusion you Charlie, but the clouds were wrong.’

‘Look, mate, I know you’ve been having doubts about Evelyn and...’

‘I’ve seen her,’ Loz said abruptly.

Charlie stared at him. ‘You mean Michaela Lockhart? You’ve seen her?’

Loz nodded. ‘At the farm earlier today, she turned up, just as I was shovelling the last of the earth on top of her dad’s grave.’

Charlie’s eyes were wide, the burning spliff between his fingers forgotten.

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