Stranger on the Cliff (ONC 2021)

Beating Heart

"What is it?" Darcy stared in horror, his voice barely a gasp, but to give him his due, he recovered quickly, not waiting for an answer, but grabbing Tav's wrist and pulling him forcefully enough to stumble.

Tav didn't waste breath on explanations that wouldn't be believed at this stage, righting himself and ending up being the one pulling Darcy to keep up. Darcy might be fit and strong for an eighteenth-century landowner (and impossibly handsome, don't forget that), but he was no runner. He was wheezing by the time they'd arrived at another thoroughfare, still busy despite the late night.

Tav pulled Darcy across the road, slipping between the many soused revellers, slowing down to catch their breath, certain the beast wouldn't follow them out here, perhaps couldn't with all these witnesses. When he looked behind him, though, he realised the error of his judgement, as it was coming toward them, as if it were floating; an inexorable force that didn't seem to register with anyone around them.

"Why aren't they screaming?" Darcy asked, panting, as he followed Tav's worried gaze.

"The mind doesn't see what it can't believe," Tav suggested, pulling again, speeding up.

"So why can I see it?"

Tav shrugged without losing a step, unsure of the answer, as the comprehension came to him that the beast was after him, not Darcy. It was him who the demon thought it needed to stop, if Jane Austen had been right. So right now, he was putting Darcy in unnecessary danger.

"Stay here, let it chase me," he demanded, going to pull away, but Darcy gripped his wrist.

"What? No. We stay together."

Tav glanced around, panicked, aware that the beast was getting closer, gaining on them as they'd slowed down. He didn't think, just span, ripping his arm out of Darcy's grip, shoving him hard. He landed with a muffled yell in the huge pile of manure that had been shovelled to the side of the street to make way for the horse-drawn carts that used the road. Tav took off, secure in the knowledge that Darcy would be grumpy, and filthy, but safe from the beast, which, as he thought, had never taken its glowing eyes from him, and was still following.

It wasn't moving especially fast, but it didn't seem to be tiring, not like Tav was, and it was steadily gaining on him. He had to come up with a solution, and he didn't think shoving it in a pile of horse crap was going to save him now.

As it got closer, he saw its mouth was open – or what must be called its mouth, though it was just a vacant void visible because it seemed to be letting out a soundless scream, much as it had the first time he'd seen it. The beast looked bigger to him now, though, and Tav felt something, in that moment. Something that felt like pressure, or friction, and he realised the beast was trying to suck him towards it, maybe to draw him in so he could be subsumed.

He remembered Jane Austen saying that the beast – the chaos demon, she'd called it – wasn't strong, though he didn't think he'd be able to actually fight against something that seemed to be made of smoke. But if it wasn't strong, physically, that implied it could be hurt, and perhaps easily if Tav was relatively tougher. Although, he wasn't feeling particularly powerful. Just a meat sack being hunted by an angry demon.

He glanced back again, dodging the people on the streets. He didn't know what area they'd found themselves in by darting down that long alleyway, but it couldn't be far from the theatre, even if it was even busier, and lit up by gas lamps. It seemed more down at heel, though, and people barely registered him darting through the crowds, other than with the odd frustrated yell when he knocked into someone, and plenty of other people were also being less than careful of others, making him nothing out of the ordinary. They might have paid him more attention if they could have seen the demon chasing him, but it was clear no one could, and presumably just thought him drunk.

Tav yelped as a delivery cart rumbled by, almost knocking him down. As he watched people jumping out of the way ahead of him it sparked a small idea. The streets were getting busier now it was surely the earlier hours of the morning – still pitch dark outside the pool of the oil lamp lights, but morning enough that deliveries were beginning. Another cart travelled rapidly further down, across a crossroad, shouting people out of the way.

Tav had slowed again, to watch the carts, and he felt the painful draw again, even closer. He jumped away with his heart beating too hard. The demon hadn't touched him, but he'd been able to see the hunger when it had thought it might. He put on another burst of speed, aiming for the crossroad, where he'd seen another cart. They were regular, now, and moved fast, with no regard at all for the pedestrians.

He had to time this just right, slowing, making more of the exhaustion he was feeling. Lulling the demon into knowing it was going to be able to achieve success. And maybe it would. Tav didn't know if the plan would work. He burst onto the crossroad, the demon close, right behind him. A cart, drawn by two heavy draughthorses, bore down on him, the driver waving his arms furiously. Tav paused, as if stunned, scaring the driver and misleading the demon. He felt the whoosh of air as the demon reached for him just as he leapt away, throwing himself to the ground just in time, twisting as he hit the dirt just in time to see the beast slammed into by the two screaming horses, the cloud of shadow scattering into the air.

* * * * *

Darcy was subdued. The night before, he'd let Tav hurry him back to the house and help him get cleaned off. Tav had wished they'd had more time, especially as Darcy stripped to the waist and allowed Tav to wash him down in the tin bathtub before a fresh fire. His skin was pale and smooth, and he'd shown certain twitching suggestions of interest, but he'd been shaking the entire time, and Tav would not take advantage.

Now, he was still dazed, as the carriage pulled into the long driveway of Pemberley. He'd ridden, but they'd stopped often enough, if briefly, that he could have asked what had been going on, had he wanted to, but each time he'd looked at Tav with something close to betrayal and gone off to buy food or piss behind a tree or whatever the stop had been for.

They'd done an almost two-day journey in only one, very long, day – setting out before the sun had even made itself known and arriving at Pemberley well into night. Georgiana had slept the first half of the journey, and Tav had only managed to whisper what had happened with the demon while they'd been eating cold pie for dinner, bouncing along in the carriage. She had no solution, and Tav was left feeling bereft and exhausted.