The Jack Hansard Series: Season Two

Episode 1.2

Now we just had to figure out what to do about Steve.

He was still talking excitedly about Mercer, another story of his past exploits – stealing a chariot from the sun-god or some similar nonsense. Mercer could have that effect on people. In our circles he was as close to a celebrity as you could get. Forget fast cars and loose women – racing Pegasuses and wooing tree nymphs was more Mercer's style. He was the guy everybody wanted to be.

Except me. I'd hate to be anything like Edric Mercer.

A bony elbow jabbed my stomach. Ang jerked her head toward the main door. Hovering over the light switch was the flickering bluecap.

She raised an eyebrow.

I nodded.

The lights went out.

'What the– Jesus Christ, that made me jump. Hold on a tick, I'll check the fuse box.'

Ang and I froze, both mid-rise from our seats. The shadow of Steve turned, completely unawares, towards the door.

Where the bluecap still hovered.

'Well, now,' I heard him murmur. 'What's this little fairy light, then?'

I took my chance and leapt forward.

I did not try to hit him about the head, because 1) this is not a very reliable method of knocking someone unconscious, and 2) I didn't really want to hurt him. Steve was just a guy who wanted a new van. It's all business, in the end.

So I tapped him on the shoulder–

'Eh?'

–and swept his legs from under him with his own stool.

'Ang, run!'

'Hansard you prick–'

'Nothing personal!' I shouted behind me.

We slammed the door and rushed out into the night. There was a faint sound of scrambling behind us, but turning a few corners in this maze of an abandoned industrial estate was all it took to find a suitable alcove and simply . . . fade into the background. Sometimes it's better to stand still in shadow and listen for the sound of frantic footsteps to simply pass you by.

Ang and I stood motionless, our presence unfocused and blurred against a damp wall. We watched Steve come rumbling by. The confusion was plain on his face.

'I can see you!' we heard him shout hopelessly, further down the alley. Poor bloke. He was doing his best.

Eventually he was out of sight, and earshot.

'Shall we find the car?' I said brightly.

'S'long as we find food, too. Am famished, gwas.'

'We weren't tied up for that long, for goodness' sake.'

'Felt like f'rever.'

'Well it could have been shorter if you'd got that bluecap working faster.'

The ghostly blue flame slipped out of hiding from under Ang's waistcoat. She unscrewed the cap on her lantern and it slid inside – looking rather more solid than before. If you looked closely, you might see the shape of an amber egg sheltered inside it.

'Don't like it, gwas. Shouldn't be usin' bluecap for this work.'

'It is a treasure-seeking spirit,' I pointed out.

'Aye. Underground, maybe. Not through men's pockets.'

'But it's proven my point, yes? That bluecap of yours is a brilliant asset for obtaining new acquisitions.'