The Warlock (The Cave Chronicles #1)

5: Smoke and Blood

Blythe and Penny made their way along the bridge as the warm air swept across it, ruffling their clothes as they walked. The city was abuzz with excitement, but it felt as though they were in their own muted little bubble, unconscious of the world around them. In the distance, the skyscrapers stood out like austere needles, land-marking the City of London, where people sweated and huffed and clicked their tongues as they poured over spread sheets and computer screens. The buildings, the black signature taxis, the fun-loving people of the city, made Penny feel rather insignificant, and she was grateful for her companion to guide her along the way. Blythe didn't speak and neither did she, but Penny felt so comfortable in his presence that she didn't feel the need to.

A drunken man ran up to the pair and grabbed Penny by the waist. He started to laugh and dance with her, and then let her go, running into the distance with an air of madness.

"Is this what people do out here?" she asked Blythe. "Get drunk and dance?"

"Only on the weekends," he shrugged. "Hmm, that answers it then: you're not from here, are you?"

Penny shook her head.

"I thought so. You have a bit of an accent anyway. You looked a bit mesmerised when I saw you as well."

"Ha! Mesmerised. I guess I am. I'm all alone here after all; I have to be happy about something."

Blythe frowned, looking slightly confused.

"You're alone?"

"Yeah. I got kicked out. I'm from Lockview Village –"

"—never heard of it."

"Well, not many people have. It's pretty off the radar, and those who do know about it wish they didn't."

Blythe smirked. "It's a good thing you're not there anymore then, isn't it?"

"Hmhmm."

He stopped, pulled his shoulder bag towards him and extracted a Canon camera from its contents. He then took a picture of the bridge in the distance and showed it to her. It was a lovely photograph, not as good as the real thing, but pretty in its own right. After giving her a small smile, he slid down the wall and sat crossed legged on the floor, where he patted the space beside him for Penny to sit. Penny pretended she hadn't seen him at first, opting to look out across the river for a while. She saw quite a few couples walking along the lower bank, holding hands, kissing and giving each other piggy-back rides. She shot a furtive glance in Blythe's direction, and thought of Alex Whittick, her one source of light from the other side of the Holy Borders. She miserably pictured his reaction next Saturday once he realised she was never coming back.

She finally sat down, but by this time, Blythe was fiddling with the camera. Penny stole a glance at the screen as he flicked through the pictures on the file. Two pretty women, one blonde and the other red-headed, appeared on it, their eyes bright and wide. Penny guessed that they were tourists, judging by their stereotypical khakis and hats.