The cucubuths closed in on Dee.
Dozens had crowded into Covent Garden; scores more lined the roofs of the surrounding buildings, and their bestial howls still echoed across the city. The shaven-headed leader spread his arms wide, exposing the black tattoos that snaked along the underside of his arms. “What are you going to do now, Doctor?”
Dee reached under his coat and touched the hilt of the stone blade that hung beneath his arm. He had fashioned a sheath for it out of two leather belts. He had no idea what would happen if he actually used the sword. He had carried Excalibur for centuries and still had only the vaguest understanding of its powers. His limited experience with Clarent suggested that it was even more powerful than its twin blade. Though now that they had fused, they had to be even more powerful… or did the two cancel each other out?
The Magician quickly considered his options. If he did wield the sword, he was sure it would light up the London skies for miles around, and probably blaze into the nearby Shadowrealms. But if he didn’t use the sword or his powers, then the cucubuths would capture him and bring him before his Dark Elder masters. And he most certainly did not want to do that: he hadn’t reached his five hundredth birthday yet. He was far too young to die.
“Come quietly, Doctor,” the cucubuth said in the ancient Wendish language of east Europe.
Dee’s hand tightened on the hilt of the sword. He felt its chill numb his fingers, and instantly, strange and bizarre thoughts flickered at the very edges of his consciousness.
Cucubuths in leather and hide armor… vampires wearing chain mail and metal… wading ashore from narrow metal boats, fighting on a beach, battling hairy, primitive one-eyed beasts…
The sound that sliced through the night was so high-pitched it was almost beyond the range of human hearing: a single drawn-out wavering note.
The cucubuths fell as if they had been struck. Those closest to Dee dropped first, and then in a long rippling wave the creatures toppled to the ground, hands pressed to their ears, writhing in agony.
Virginia Dare stepped out of the shadows, her flute pressed to her lips, and smiled at Dee.
“I am indebted to you.” The doctor bowed deeply, an old-fashioned gesture last used in the court of the first Queen Elizabeth.
Virginia drew in a breath. “Consider this repayment for the time you saved my life in Boston.”
One of the cucubuths reached for Dee’s ankle and he kicked the hand aside. “We should go,” he said. A few of the creatures were already staggering to their feet, but another series of piercing notes from Dare’s flute dropped them to the ground again.
Stepping lightly over the mass of squirming bodies, Dare and Dee made their way out of Covent Garden. Dee paused at the King Street entrance and turned to look back. The cobbled square was a mass of twisting, shifting bodies. Some of the creatures were already beginning to lose their human appearance as their hands and faces reverted back to their beast forms. “That’s a neat trick,” he said, hurrying to catch up with Dare, who had continued on down the street, still playing the flute. “How long will the spell last?” Dee asked.
“Not long. The more intelligent the creature, the longer the spell endures. On primitive beasts like these: ten, twenty minutes.”
The street was littered with cucubuths squirming in pain, their hands pressed to their ears. Two fell off the roof of a building directly in front of Dee and Dare, hitting the ground hard enough to crack the paving slabs. Without breaking stride, Virginia stepped over their twitching bodies. Dee walked around them; he knew a simple fall would not harm the creatures, only slow them down.
“I learned the tune from a German,” she said between breaths. “He used to be a rat catcher.”
“What made you choose my side?” Dee asked.
“You promised me a world,” Virginia Dare said seriously. “You better keep that promise,” she added. “I learned some other tunes from the rat catcher, and believe me, you do not want me to play them.”
The Magician attempted a laugh. “Why, that sounds almost like a threat…,” he began.
“It was,” she said, then grinned. “Actually, it was more than a threat. It’s a promise.”