sons of destiny

PART 1 CHAPTER 1

PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE

Sitting on the stage. Gazing around the theatre. Remembering the thrilling show I saw the first time I

came. Comparing it to tonight's warped 'entertainment'. Feeling very small and lonely.

Vancha didn't lose his head, even when Steve played his trump card. He kept going, picked his way

through the pit of stakes to the stage, then raced down the tunnel which Steve, Gannen and R.V. had fled

by. It led to the streets at the rear of the theatre. No way of telling which way they'd gone. He returned,

cursing with fury. When he saw Shancus, lying dead on the stage like a bird with a broken neck, he

stopped and sank to his knees.

Evra was next across, following Vancha's route through the stakes, crying out Shancus's name,

screaming for him not to die, even though he must have known it was too late, that his son was already

dead. We should have held him back — he fell and pierced himself several times, and could easily have

perished — but we were frozen with shock and horror.

Fortunately Evra made it to the stage without injuring himself too severely. Once there, he slumped

beside Shancus, desperately checked for signs of life, then howled with loss. Sobbing and moaning with

grief, he cradled the dead boy's head in his lap, tears dripping on to his son's motionless face. The rest of

us watched from a distance. We were all crying bitterly, even the normally steel-faced Alice Burgess.

In time, Harkat also climbed through the stakes. There was a long plank on the stage. He and Vancha extendedit over the pit, so that the rest of us could join them. I don't think anybody really wanted to go

up there. For a long moment none of us moved. Then Debbie, sobbing with deep, wracking gulps,

stumbled to the plank and hauled herself up.

Alice crossed the pit next. I brought up the rear. I was shaking uncontrollably. I wanted to turn and run.

Earlier, I thought I knew how I'd feel if our gamble backfired and Steve killed Shancus. But I'd known

nothing. I never truly expected Steve to murder the snake-boy. I'd let R.V. march the boy into Steve's

den, certain no harm would come to my honorary godson.

Now that Steve had made a fool of me (yet again) and slaughtered Shancus, all I wanted was to be

dead. I couldn't feel pain if I was dead. No shame. No guilt. I wouldn't have to look Evra in the eye,

knowing I was responsible for his son's needless, shocking death.

We'd forgotten about Darius. I hadn't killed him — how could I kill my own nephew? Following Steve's

triumphant revelation, the hatred and anger which had filled me like a fire, drained away from me in an

instant. I released Darius, having lost my murderous interest in him, and just left him on the far side of the

pit.

Evanna was standing near the boy, idly picking at one of the ropes which encircled her body — she

preferred ropes to ordinary clothes. It was clear from the witch's stance that she wouldn't interfere if

Darius made a break for freedom. It would have been the simplest thing in the world for him to escape.