Fighting Pax. Robin Jarvis
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injection?” he asked, almost hysterical with fear. “That’s just wonderful that is. You’re putting me down like Old Yeller!”
“No lethal,” she corrected coldly. “Enough barbiturate to induce sleep or coma only. Point three five gram for now. Lethal dose might damage brain.”
“Oh, gee, bless you. You’re not going to kill me until after you’ve scooped out my skull. That’s really considerate.”
Her hand reached for his face. She wasn’t going to inject straight into his head, was she? He flinched as much as the strap across his throat allowed. He closed his eyes, expecting to feel the needle’s sting, but Doctor Choe was only removing his glasses. He felt them pulled from his nose and heard them being set on the counter. Then her gloved fingers pushed the cuff of his overcoat up his forearm as she selected a vein beneath his pale, European skin.
And then a wild and crazy idea flashed into his mind.
“Beyond the Silvering Sea!” he said, as loud as he was able. “Within thirteen green, girdling hills, lies the wondrous Kingdom of the Dawn Prince.”
Back in Britain he had been forced to read that book so many times he knew most of it by heart.
Doctor Choe Soo-jin blinked at him in surprise and annoyance. Above the surgical mask her eyes narrowed.
“No speak,” she ordered.
“Yet inside his White Castle, the throne stands empty!” he continued defiantly. “For many long years he has been lost in exile and thus the Ismus, his Holy Enchanter, reigns in his stead.”
The woman felt a strange prickling sensation crawl up the back of her neck. She gazed about the lab and it seemed to darken. Deep shadows crept out from beneath the counters and behind the sinks, seeping up through the floor. The dead fingers of Marshal Tark Hyun-ki quivered as the book they held twitched and tugged to get free.
In the vault, the metal box containing the wand of Malinda began to tremble and judder. On a shelf close by, the jaw of the unicorn skull opened slowly and the darkness seethed and breathed around it.
“Till the day of his glorious returning,” Spencer persisted, almost spitting the words out, “and the restoration of his splendour evermore!”
Overhead a fluorescent strip popped and the lab dipped into deeper gloom. Another bulb began to flicker. The syringe fell from Doctor Choe’s grasp. It dropped to the ground and she gripped the metal table for support as her head swam. The paper mask blew in and out of her mouth. A fresh morning breeze seemed to be moving through her hair. Sunlight was filtering through the fresh green leaves of spring. It was another ravishing day in Mooncaster and she had come to the bluebell woods with the other young girls from the village to wash her face with dew…
“For that day approaches,” Spencer recited, and now his voice was strong and reverberated in her ears. “The Lord of Rising Dawn is drawing nigh. He is returning to the land that was his. His light shall crown the hills with crimson flame and we shall bow before his unmatched majesty.”
“No!” the doctor declared vehemently. “I am Soo-jin!”
The spring light faded and the creeping shadows in the lab retreated. Breathing hard, she ripped the mask from her mouth and turned a stern, vengeful face on Spencer. The boy’s voice had dwindled back to a compressed whisper.
Doctor Choe stooped to retrieve the syringe. As she crouched, she heard something drop to the floor. Glancing under the table, she saw that the book had fallen from the Marshal’s hand. It was splayed open, white pages facing the ceiling. As she looked, one of them curled over, disclosing a black and white illustration of peasant maidens gambolling through bluebells.
The doctor straightened and hurried around. But, when she reached the space between the tables, the floor was empty. The book had gone.
She glared at Spencer suspiciously. The boy was still strapped down. He couldn’t have moved it. Her doubtful glance darted aside to the Marshal’s body. She scowled, angry with herself for even thinking such a thing was possible. So where was the book?
Beneath one of the sinks came the sound of rustling paper. The doctor drew back. Spencer fell silent and their eyes locked. He had only tried to get her hooked on the words of Austerly Fellows. He had no idea what forces he had awakened. Reading her concern was gratifying though and he couldn’t stop a smirk stealing on to his face.
There was another dry fluttering of pages. This time it was behind the blood analyser.
“Big mice you’ve got here,” the boy said mockingly.
Doctor Choe stepped away and went to the tray of surgical knives. She took up the largest scalpel and held it out in front as she approached the analyser. Cautiously, she leaned over and peered down into the gap between it and the wall. There was nothing there.
Suddenly one of the cupboard doors flew open. Test tubes, flasks and beakers exploded out, smashing on the floor. The doctor jumped back in alarm. Another cupboard was flung wide and Petri dishes came spinning into the lab like Frisbees.
“Vaccinate that!” Spencer taunted as the contents of a third were violently ejected.
The woman clasped the scalpel more tightly and went crunching over the powdered fragments, staring inside each cupboard. They were all empty, but the final one was still closed. Moving nearer and nearer, she reached out to yank the door wide and was primed to lunge the sharp blade at whatever was revealed within.
Holding her breath, she snatched the door open and stabbed wildly. The thin blade lacerated the melamine shelving then snapped. There was nothing in here but boxes of surgical gloves, masks and disposable aprons.
Her tense, squatting frame relaxed. But it was not over yet.
There was a clattering din. One of the metal trays came shooting off the counter above her head. It struck her temple with force and the instruments it contained showered down as she fell backwards. Sterile blades sliced her cheek and skewered her lab coat. Her skull smacked the tiled floor and she cried out. Her head thumped and for several moments she lay there in a shocked daze. Razor-sharp knives had kissed through her skin and rivulets of blood had begun to flow. Yet none of that mattered. As she blundered back, she’d caught a glimpse of something up on the counter, where the tray had been. It was the Marshal’s green book.
The doctor raised her head to look again. It was no longer there. Then she saw it. The book was now lying on the floor, by her feet. As she watched, the book raised itself upright.
“Not possible!” Doctor Choe exclaimed, shaking her pounding head. When she looked again, it had clambered on to her legs. Tilting diagonally, it balanced on one corner and swung the other forward, waggling itself along her body.
The doctor tried to hurl it away, but her arms were unnaturally heavy and she couldn’t move them. Her legs were the same. She was as helpless as Spencer on the examination table. Throwing back her head, she yelled for help then sobbed as she recalled the lab was soundproof.
Dancing Jax continued its relentless, shuffling progress until it came to a stop on her chest. With slow menace, its pages opened and her eyes were compelled to gaze.
Strapped to the table, unable to see what was happening, Spencer could only listen and try to guess.
“Doctor?” he ventured. “Doctor Choe?”
There was no reply. Spencer breathed a sigh of relief. He had saved himself, invoking the power of the book to ensnare her. But the real peril was only just beginning. The force he had unleashed was unstoppable and would sweep away everyone in the base. There was no escape now.
Minutes edged by, in which the only sounds were the woman’s soft, trance-like murmurs. Then, abruptly, she rose from the floor, appearing behind the Marshal’s body. A far-off look was in her glassy eyes and Dancing Jax was clasped to her bosom.
“I am the Four of Clubs,” she announced ecstatically. “I am Dulcie, the innkeeper’s daughter. All the boys and menfolk