Jack of Ravens

4

Shavi inhaled deeply and tasted the night, the grass, the stones. A dangerous, uncertain future lay ahead, but he felt more at peace than he ever had.

‘You’re a bloody idiot.’ The Bone Inspector sat on one of the fallen menhirs, clutching his staff like a weapon. ‘Coming to Stonehenge on a fool’s errand when we could be hiding out in Callanish. Do you want to get us both killed?’

‘There is something here.’

‘Because some graffiti on a toilet wall says so? The wind must blow right through your head.’

Shavi checked his position and began to pace out the distance.

‘I tell you, Stonehenge’s dead. As dead as Avebury. There’s a thin bit of power in the ground, enough to keep us hidden, but that’s it. And if you’re looking for something buried, forget it. The bloody archaeologists have been all over the place with a fine-tooth comb.’

‘All of it?’ Shavi found his spot and dropped to his knees to tear at the turf with his fingers. Eventually he found the stone Church had buried more than 150 years earlier.

On it was carefully painted the legend: ‘To Shavi. Laura DuSantiago, Sister of Dragons, is in a burger bar in Northampton. Ruth Gallagher, Sister of Dragons, is in an old people’s home in South London. Church.’

‘Church,’ Shavi read out loud. It was a name, and it felt oddly familiar to his lips.