Read Online Wolf in Shadow-eARC by John Lambshead - Free Book Online
Authors: John Lambshead
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touch, deforming and moving away. Then it exploded soundlessly into shards of white light. They writhed like streamers before fading away in hissing sparkles of silver.
“What!” said Rhian, startled. “Is it supposed to do that?”
“No,” Frankie replied. “It’s just a simple marker spell. If you have no talent, then it stays white. If you’ve talent it changes color, the shade and intensity indicating your power and skills. It’s not supposed to run away. One might almost think that it was frightened of you.”
CHAPTER 5
THE WOLF
Rhian scrabbled inside the darkest reaches of her wardrobe to obtain her coat. She looked it over critically. It was definitely showing signs of wear but would have to do until she had built up some savings. She slipped it on and headed for the front door.
“Bye, Frankie,” she yelled at the closed lounge door.
It opened abruptly and Frankie shot out.
“Wait a moment, I have something for you,” Frankie said.
She produced a twisted posy of half-dead plant material that she attached securely to Rhian’s lapel with an old-fashioned hat pin.
Rhian inclined her head to study the posy.
“It’s, um, very nice,” she said weakly, wondering at the woman’s taste in decorations.
“It’s not supposed to be nice. That is a good luck charm,” said Frankie.
“Like the gypsies sell?” Rhian asked.
“Sort of,” Frankie replied. “I want you to promise me that you will wear it, please.”
“Sure,” Rhian replied, humoring her. “But I really must go now or I’ll be late for work.”
She gave Frankie a half smile and disappeared through the door.
She hurried, taking the short cut through the path at the end of the road. She dodged the traffic on the Mile End Road rather than going round by the subway. She arrived at the Black Swan a few minutes before opening time. She was forced to bang on the door for some time before Gary appeared and let her in.
“Sorry, I was in the cellar,” he said apologetically. “The lager pump’s playing up again. The brewery won’t spend a penny on this place and everything is falling apart.”
“Any news on when they intend to renovate?” Rhian asked.
“No,” Gary replied, gloomily. “They promised me the manager’s position in a swish new wine bar if I kept the old pub ticking over for just a few weeks until the builders moved in.”
“How long ago was that?” asked Rhian.
“Several months,” said Gary.
Rhian opened up and switched everything on. A man in a grey mackintosh came in, bought a lager, and pushed pound coins into the fruit machine in the corner. The cheep-cheep noises and flashing lights were seriously irritating. Normally, they just became part of the background, something that blended in with the general buzz. Tonight they worked under Rhian’s skin, perhaps because the bar was empty. The lights built up to a crescendo and the machine gave a triumphant whoop, spilling coins out with a chukka, chukka, chukka . Thankfully, after the customer came over to spend his winnings, he retreated to a seat to sup his beer. The machine shut up, restricting itself to an occasional coy flutter of lights.
As the evening wore on, a handful of customers wandered in, mostly students slumming. It was getting near the end of term, and their government loans would be running low, especially for those who had squandered money on nonessentials like textbooks. The Black Swan might not be luxurious, but it did sell the cheapest pint on the Mile End Road.
The students formed a circle around one of the tables and became more boisterous as their glasses emptied, refilled, and emptied again. They spoke ever louder until Rhian could hear every word.
“I can pull that new barmaid.”
“What new barmaid?”
“The cute little dark-haired Welsh totty.”
“Is she new?”
“Yes, and I bet that I can pull her.”
“The last thing you pulled was a calf muscle playing five-a-side.”
“Very funny, laugh all you
“What!” said Rhian, startled. “Is it supposed to do that?”
“No,” Frankie replied. “It’s just a simple marker spell. If you have no talent, then it stays white. If you’ve talent it changes color, the shade and intensity indicating your power and skills. It’s not supposed to run away. One might almost think that it was frightened of you.”
CHAPTER 5
THE WOLF
Rhian scrabbled inside the darkest reaches of her wardrobe to obtain her coat. She looked it over critically. It was definitely showing signs of wear but would have to do until she had built up some savings. She slipped it on and headed for the front door.
“Bye, Frankie,” she yelled at the closed lounge door.
It opened abruptly and Frankie shot out.
“Wait a moment, I have something for you,” Frankie said.
She produced a twisted posy of half-dead plant material that she attached securely to Rhian’s lapel with an old-fashioned hat pin.
Rhian inclined her head to study the posy.
“It’s, um, very nice,” she said weakly, wondering at the woman’s taste in decorations.
“It’s not supposed to be nice. That is a good luck charm,” said Frankie.
“Like the gypsies sell?” Rhian asked.
“Sort of,” Frankie replied. “I want you to promise me that you will wear it, please.”
“Sure,” Rhian replied, humoring her. “But I really must go now or I’ll be late for work.”
She gave Frankie a half smile and disappeared through the door.
She hurried, taking the short cut through the path at the end of the road. She dodged the traffic on the Mile End Road rather than going round by the subway. She arrived at the Black Swan a few minutes before opening time. She was forced to bang on the door for some time before Gary appeared and let her in.
“Sorry, I was in the cellar,” he said apologetically. “The lager pump’s playing up again. The brewery won’t spend a penny on this place and everything is falling apart.”
“Any news on when they intend to renovate?” Rhian asked.
“No,” Gary replied, gloomily. “They promised me the manager’s position in a swish new wine bar if I kept the old pub ticking over for just a few weeks until the builders moved in.”
“How long ago was that?” asked Rhian.
“Several months,” said Gary.
Rhian opened up and switched everything on. A man in a grey mackintosh came in, bought a lager, and pushed pound coins into the fruit machine in the corner. The cheep-cheep noises and flashing lights were seriously irritating. Normally, they just became part of the background, something that blended in with the general buzz. Tonight they worked under Rhian’s skin, perhaps because the bar was empty. The lights built up to a crescendo and the machine gave a triumphant whoop, spilling coins out with a chukka, chukka, chukka . Thankfully, after the customer came over to spend his winnings, he retreated to a seat to sup his beer. The machine shut up, restricting itself to an occasional coy flutter of lights.
As the evening wore on, a handful of customers wandered in, mostly students slumming. It was getting near the end of term, and their government loans would be running low, especially for those who had squandered money on nonessentials like textbooks. The Black Swan might not be luxurious, but it did sell the cheapest pint on the Mile End Road.
The students formed a circle around one of the tables and became more boisterous as their glasses emptied, refilled, and emptied again. They spoke ever louder until Rhian could hear every word.
“I can pull that new barmaid.”
“What new barmaid?”
“The cute little dark-haired Welsh totty.”
“Is she new?”
“Yes, and I bet that I can pull her.”
“The last thing you pulled was a calf muscle playing five-a-side.”
“Very funny, laugh all you
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