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CHAPTER FOUR

THE WAY WE USED TO BE




I’m not used to not knowing where I am. When I pass through one of my dimensional doors, I know immediately where I’ve come to and where I’m going. But one minute I was walking out of the library with Amanda, and the next I was stumbling across a wide grassy plain with a huge brooding forest lying in wait ahead of us. The trees were tall and broad, weighed down with summer’s greenery and packed close together, holding an impenetrable darkness within. The sky was slate grey, the sun half hidden behind ominous clouds. I looked sharply at Amanda.

“Where is this?”

“Welcome to AD 60,” said Amanda. “Britain has been a Roman colony for over a century, and I think it would be fair to say that things are not going well. What do you know about this period, Jack?”

“Not much,” I admitted. “Are we talking about Boadicea?”

“That’s the Latin version,” said Amanda. “Her real name was Boudicca.”

I didn’t like the way the forest was looking at me. A vast, almost primeval presence, it dominated the horizon like the gateway to another world. Just looking at the dark between the trees was enough to put a chill in my heart.

“So, time travel,” I said, because I felt I should say something. “Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any weirder.”

“And our travels have only just started,” Amanda said happily.

“That’s what worrying me.” I looked around, taking my time. “What are we doing here? It’s not exactly tourist country.”

“We’re here because this is where we need to be.”

“How very Zen,” I said. “A word I have never had occasion to use before, and hopefully never will again. Why do we have to be here?”

“Because this is when history was first rewritten. However, before we go any further, we need to tuck this book away in your backpack. Partly because it’s getting very heavy, but mostly because I am going to need my hands free in case I have to hit someone.”

I had to raise an eyebrow. “You think that’s likely?”

“It’s a more primitive time,” said Amanda. “Disputes tend toward the physical.”

I looked at the oversized volume tucked precariously under her arm. “How am I supposed to cram something that size into my backpack? I’d have a hard time getting it inside a suitcase.”

“I’m sure it’ll go in if we lean on it,” Amanda said cheerfully.

I slipped the pack off my shoulder, and opened it as wide as it would go. Amanda forced one corner of the book in, then gave it a twisting kind of push, and the book disappeared inside as though the pack had swallowed it down. I blinked a few times, and hefted the pack carefully, but it didn’t feel any heavier. So I just shrugged, and swung it back into place on my shoulder.

“You see?” said Amanda. “You just need to remind these things who’s in charge. Now pay attention, please; lecture mode. Boudicca was Queen of the Iceni, the greatest of the British tribes. She had been promised a free hand by the local Roman authorities, as long as she paid regular tribute and maintained the peace, but the Imperial Senate didn’t approve of a female ruler wielding that much power. So they sent in the Legions.

“Boudicca’s forces were caught by surprise, and quickly overwhelmed. The queen and her daughters were then publicly whipped and raped by the soldiers. To humble them, and their people, and make them properly subservient to Roman rule. But instead, all the tribes were outraged by this insult. Boudicca formed them into one great army, and then burned and slaughtered her way from one side of the country to the other, wiping out whole settlements for the sin of embracing Roman culture. The Legions were sent to stop her; Boudicca’s army cut them down and trampled them underfoot.”

Amanda stepped in front of me, so close our bodies were almost touching. She cupped my face in her hands, and when she spoke her words hit my mouth in little puffs of breath, like invisible caresses.

“Open your inner eye, Jack. This is something you need to See for yourself.”


Wrapped in filthy furs and covered in tattoos and splashes of woad, Boudicca’s army swept through town after town, killing everyone who didn’t run for their lives. The queen led from the front, her battle-axe bathed in blood and sanctified with slaughter, marching in triumph from one burnt-out settlement to another, until finally she led her army into Londinium, that great and noble symbol of Roman rule.

Howling like rabid wolves, Boudicca’s horde butchered its way through the narrow streets. Swords and axes rose and fell, splashing blood across the smoke-stained walls, as the warriors of the woad butchered every Roman man, woman and child. Corpses piled up in the open squares and littered the streets, while severed heads bobbed in the river Thames, still silently screaming.

This wasn’t just war; it was the complete eradication of one culture by another. Boudicca’s army hacked a crimson path straight into the heart of the city, and crowds packed the streets as they fled the horror baying at their heels. A city died screaming, and Boudicca laughed in its face.

The horde didn’t stop until they ran out of people to kill. And then, finally, they lowered their blood-soaked weapons and looked around them with a sense of a job well done. They looted food and drink from the surrounding buildings, and sat down in the streets among the bodies, laughing happily at the thought of what they’d done. They sang songs celebrating death and destruction, while some of the younger men played football with severed heads. But without their long-hoarded rage to drive them on, Boudicca’s army soon lay down where they were and gave themselves up to sleep.

Roman reinforcements arrived not long after, quietly entering the city from a dozen directions. They carefully blocked off all the escape routes, and then fell on the slumbering enemy. The warriors of the woad fought like wolves at bay, but the Legionnaires just kept pressing forward behind the protection of their tall shields. Roman steel rose and fell with merciless precision, taking revenge for Boudicca’s revenge.

Her entire army was wiped out in a single night. Finally, cut off and alone, the warrior queen made her last stand surrounded by the corpses of her daughters. Drenched in blood from countless wounds, one eye carved out of her head, she still held her battered axe out before her, daring the soldiers to come to her. In the end she spat a mouthful of blood at the Roman army, and charged straight at them.

After she was dead the soldiers dipped their fingers into what was left of her, so they could smear their faces with her blood to mark their triumph.


Amanda took her hands away from my face, and the vision disappeared. The stench of so much death and horror still filled my head.

“That is your past, now,” Amanda said quietly. “After history was rewritten.”

I nodded slowly. “So what was here before?”


And just like that we were standing in a wide city street teeming with all kinds of people, and a great many things that weren’t even trying to be people. Men on horseback rode casually alongside centaurs: half man and half horse, with barrel chests and noble faces. Both the horses and the centaurs crapped openly in the street, and no one gave a damn. The centaurs conversed cheerfully with the men on horseback, discussing philosophy and wine and war in deep bass voices.

Light and Dark elves walked together, with inhuman poise and grace, and no trace of the bitter hatred I’d seen in “The Faerie War.” Whatever had split them apart hadn’t happened yet. They moved easily among men of a dozen different races and backgrounds, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

The street was lined with square solid buildings: single storeys of stone and timber, with trailing vines and flowers for decoration. The various shops had no windows to show off their wares, so the owners stood in their open doorways and sang to passersby of all the marvellous goods they had to offer. Street musicians, conjurers, and the old-time equivalent of fast-food stalls competed for the crowd’s attention. It should have been a bedlam of raised voices, but instead there was a cheerful feeling of We’re all in this together.

A great shadow fell across the street, and I looked up to see a cloud of angels sweep silently by. Huge idealised figures, with wide-spread wings. Down in the street, everyone just carried on with whatever they were doing until the angels had flown on, taking their shadow with them.

A pack of oversized dogs came racing along the street, darting in and out of the crowd. They suddenly rose up to run on two legs, stretching and twisting until they were men and women wrapped in furs. The werewolves laughed happily, as though this was the best game in the world, and chased each other down the street.

A stone fountain in the middle of an open square tossed its waters high into the air. As they fell back they took on human forms, beautiful nude women who danced with fluid grace, blending in and out of each other. Naiads, I thought dazedly. Water nymphs.

Gods went walking through the crowds, tall and magnificent, a glowing halo surrounding each perfect head. They wore the same clothes as the people they walked among: robes and tunics, furs and armours. Everyone seemed to be taking their presence for granted, and I remembered how ancient writings often told of people talking quite naturally with their gods, as though this was something that happened every day and nothing to make a fuss about.

Some of the gods radiated peace and serenity, while others gave vent to inhumanly fierce emotions. Many were clearly drunk as skunks. Norse, Roman and Celtic deities conversed happily together, as though they were all just toilers in the same vineyard. They moved through the crowd in a not at all mysterious way, mostly interested in intelligent conversation and the pleasures of the flesh. Some of the taller figures had animal or bird heads, like the gods of ancient Egypt, only there was nothing stylised about them. A god with a jackal’s head turned suddenly to look at Amanda and dropped her a sly wink. She smiled and blew him a kiss. The god laughed soundlessly and went on his way.

And that was when I realised I wasn’t just Seeing a vision of the past. I stamped my foot on the hard-packed earth and breathed deeply, filling my head with all the rich smells of the street, and then laughed out loud at the sheer wonder of it all. I turned to Amanda, and she smiled happily back at me.

“Welcome to the world that was,” she said. “When living itself was magical.”

“How did we get here?”

“I’m magical. I did tell you. Try to keep up, Jack.”

I looked around at the people streaming past us, entirely unconcerned by our presence. Though a few did pause just long enough to look down their nose at my clothes. People and gods found the time to bow respectfully to Amanda, while carefully maintaining a respectful distance. She took it all in her stride, smiling cheerfully on one and all.

“How can we be here, if history has been changed?” I said.

“The past was overwritten, not destroyed,” Amanda said patiently. “Remember the palimpsest.”

“But . . . all these magical creatures . . . and the old gods! How can they be here, while Christian angels are flying overhead?”

“It’s all just different masks, on the same face,” said Amanda.

I looked at her for a moment. “So Jesus is real, in this history?”

“Oh, he’s always real,” said Amanda.

There was something in the she said that. “You’ve met him?”

“We’ve talked.”

“Well?” I said. “What’s he like?”

“Funnier than you’d think.”

I shook my head. “Even when I do get answers out of you, they never take me anywhere useful.”

“Yes, well, that’s life for you,” Amanda said briskly. “Now can we please get a move on? We have important work to be about.”

“But why do you need my help to do it?” I said.

“Because you’re the Outsider. You have more practical experience in dealing with the weird stuff than anyone else I know. That’s how I knew I could drop you into a scene like this and be reasonably sure you wouldn’t jump out of your skin.”

“I’m still considering it,” I said darkly. “Why is this version of history so different?”

Amanda smiled. “This is how things used to be, before magic was banished. A more generous time, that had room in it for all kinds. Londinium was a gathering place for all kinds, natural and supernatural, and there never was any rebellion against a tyrannous authority. That new and bloody history was put in place to distract people from noticing that all of this had been wiped from humanity’s memory. But people still secretly long for the wonders they used to take for granted.”

“I get that,” I said. “But why have you brought me here?”

“To meet the real Queen Boudicca. This way.”

She set off down the street, and I moved quickly in beside her, but we had to stop again when one of my doors appeared right in front of us, blocking the way.

“What the hell is that doing here?” I said. “Does this mean there’s some kind of unexploded bomb that needs defusing?”

“No,” Amanda said flatly. “If there was, I’d know. This door was sent to take you back. The secret masters really don’t like it when their Outsider steps off the reservation.”

“Well, they’ll just have to wait until I’m done,” I said.

I went to walk around the door, but it shifted quickly to obstruct my way again. No matter how quickly I moved the door was always right there in front of me. I felt like giving it a good kick, just on general principles, but I didn’t want to lower myself. So I just gave it my best glare, and turned to Amanda.

“Can’t you do something?”

“It’s not my job to solve your problems,” said Amanda. “Think, Jack: what can you do?”

I racked my brain for an answer. If there was something in this version of history that someone didn’t want me to know about, that made me even more determined to find out what it was. I ran through all the useful items tucked away in my backpack, and then smiled as the answer came to me. I reached in and brought out my athame, the old reliable witch knife that could cut through anything.

Everyone around me flinched away. The athame’s blade was glowing fiercely, its presence beating on the air like the first rumble of an approaching earthquake. Even the door seemed to back away a little. I stepped briskly forward and stabbed it with my very useful knife, and the door vanished as the athame severed its connection to this place and time. I smiled at Amanda, and put the knife away again.

“I think I just cut all the ties to my old life.”

“Do you think you’ll miss it?”

“No,” I said. “I can’t go on without answers, and it looks like you’re the only one who can help me find them.”

“So it all comes down to who you trust,” said Amanda.

I looked at her steadily. “You’d better be right about this.”

“Of course I am,” said Amanda. “I’m always right.”

“I wouldn’t put money on it,” said a loud voice from the crowd ahead of us. A large overbearing man dressed in modern clothes was heading straight for us. The crowd fell back to give him room, the looks on their faces suggesting they weren’t at all happy about his presence among them.

“At least it isn’t a Man In Black this time,” I said.

The newcomer crashed to a halt before us. He’d crammed his oversized figure into a smart business suit, but style and elegance were beyond him. He had a round face, a shaved head, cold eyes and the kind of smile that suggested you really wouldn’t like the things he found funny. There was no denying the man had presence, but it felt borrowed, like an actor on a stage. He drew his second-hand authority about him and addressed himself solely to Amanda.

“Allow me to introduce myself. Emil Morcata, at your service. Ah, you know the name! I am pleased.”

“Don’t be,” said Amanda. “Your reputation is nothing to be proud of.”

“You know this person?” I said to Amanda.

“Emil represents a group of supernatural treasure-hunters,” she said, not taking her eyes off the man.

“Would I have heard of them?”

“Unlikely,” said Emil, condescending to throw a glance in my direction. “We are a very private group, very select. And since names have power, I don’t believe I’ll share it with you.”

“They’re just scavengers, grubbing through the ruins of history,” said Amanda. “Looting the past for fun and profit. Digging up things that should never have been disturbed, and generally giving dogs in mangers a bad name.”

“At least we know better than to let such things run loose in the world,” Emil said cuttingly. “Particularly after the secret masters went to such trouble to remove all traces of them from history.”

“Secret masters?” I said. “Are we talking weird rituals and funny handshakes?”

Emil’s sudden glare was like a slap across the face. “Hush, boy. Your betters are talking.”

“I am the Outsider,” I said calmly. “One more word out of you that I don’t like and I will use my Sight to discover what you’re really scared of, and introduce you to it.”

Emil started to say something, and then didn’t. He turned back to Amanda.

“We have dedicated ourselves to seeking out lost objects of power, because such treasures only rightfully belong with those who can appreciate them. But we still have enough sense not to do anything that would allow magic to regain a hold on the world.”

“Because you’re afraid of it,” said Amanda.

“Of course we’re afraid! Any sane person would be.” Emil turned a surprisingly sympathetic eye on me. “You mustn’t trust her, Outsider. She’s not human. Everything you see in her is a lie.”

“Enough!” said Amanda. Her voice cracked like a whip, and Emil actually fell back a step.

“You wouldn’t recognise the truth if you tripped over it in the gutter,” said Amanda. She shot me a steady look. “I might not have told you everything, Jack, but everything I have said is true. You must believe that.”

“I trust you,” I said. “As much as I can.”

Emil laughed briefly, and it was a cold and bitter sound. “Lord, what fools these mortals be. I can’t reach you, because she’s already dug her claws in too deep. It doesn’t matter. I was sent here to stop this madness and I will, because she can’t be allowed to destroy the proper order of things.”

“You really think you can stop me?” said Amanda. She sounded honestly curious.

Emil reached inside his jacket and brought out a mummified hand whose fingers had been fashioned into candles. He pointed the withered thing at Amanda and me, and the wicks in the fingertips burst into thin blue flames that rose straight up, untroubled by even a breath of air.

“Be still,” said Emil. “Be bound. Be silent. The Hand of Glory will uncover whatever treasure you came here for, and there’s nothing you can do to prevent me. The Hand holds you in its grasp.”

Amanda leaned forward and blew out the fingers. Emil looked shocked, every bit of his menace gone with the flames.

“This isn’t over,” he said numbly.

“It is if you’ve got any sense,” said Amanda.

Emil drew himself up, and then turned and hurried off into the crowd. Not actually running, but I knew a retreat when I saw one. I looked thoughtfully at Amanda.

“Why didn’t his Hand of Glory work on us?”

“Because he didn’t know how to use it properly,” said Amanda. “Typical of his group; they never bother to read the instructions because they’re always in such a hurry to sell the stuff on.”

“He knew you,” I said. Not making a point, just letting the comment lie there.

Amanda shrugged. “I’ve crossed swords with his group. They’re unpleasant, but predictable. They just want what they want, and they’re incapable of seeing beyond that.”

“He seemed very sure that I shouldn’t trust you,” I said carefully.

“He was trying to drive a wedge between us.”

“But how did he get here?” I said. “Into this past that doesn’t exist any more?”

Amanda frowned. “His group leases dimensional doors from the Department, but for him to arrive right after you dismissed the door they sent to bring you back . . . can only mean Emil’s people and the Department are a lot closer than they used to be. Which means they must have found a common purpose.”

“Like what?”

“Stopping us,” said Amanda. She looked quickly around her. “We need to get a move on, Jack. Before someone else turns up to get in our way.”

She set off down the street again, and I strode along beside her. It quickly became clear that we were heading for a large hall, set some way back from the main drag. It was the biggest structure I’d seen so far; still just the one storey, but constructed on a much larger scale. The walls were basic timber, with gaps for windows, but the whole thing looked solid enough to survive being hit by an earthquake and a stricken angel plummeting from the sky. I frowned as I took in half a dozen chimneys spouting smoke into the sky. I was pretty sure chimneys hadn’t evolved yet in this period, but given that the main street was full of centaurs and jackal-headed gods, I didn’t feel like arguing the point.

We’d almost reached the main entrance when a very tall woman suddenly appeared out of the crowd and planted herself right in front of us. She dismissed me with a glance, before smiling coldly at Amanda. A good eight feet high, and built like an Amazon on steroids, she was wearing a white dress sheer enough to show off everything she had. Her face was so beautiful it bordered on the inhuman, and if that wasn’t enough to suggest she was one of the old gods, her long red hair waved languorously around her shoulders as though disturbed by some underwater tide. Her fierce green eyes blazed like headlights from oncoming traffic.

A dog big enough to give a wolf serious inadequacy issues sat down heavily at her side, without having to be told.

“Amanda, darling,” said the goddess, in a deep rich voice like clotted cream that had gone off. “Fancy bumping into you, in old Londinium town. What brings you to this cosmopolitan corner of the supposedly civilised world?”

She stared down her long nose in a way that suggested we were supposed to bow and scrape in the presence of our betters, but Amanda just smiled easily back at her.

“I’m showing my new friend the sights. I do like the new frock, sweetie; it’s very you. I thought you said you’d never lower yourself to return here, after that unfortunate business where you got caught trying to fix the bear-wrestling contest with a rather obvious ringer.”

The goddess shrugged, and looked me over as though considering making an offer.

“Pretty enough, I suppose; like most of your toys.”

“The name is Jack,” I said coldly. “And I’m not anyone’s toy.”

“Good for you,” said the goddess. “Now hush, there’s a dear. Grownups are talking.”

“Really?” I said. “Where?”

The goddess drew herself up to her full height and I got ready to leap up out of the way, because I knew an oncoming lightning bolt when I saw one. Perhaps fortunately, Amanda stepped forward and fixed the goddess with a cold stare.

“Hands off, sweetie. He’s mine.”

Surprisingly, the goddess backed down immediately. “You always did have lousy taste in men, darling.”

Amanda looked at the patiently sitting dog. “You can talk.”

The goddess shrugged. “Trust me, he makes a much better pet than a boyfriend.”

Amanda smiled sweetly. “I never did understand your fondness for submissives.”

The goddess turned on her heel and strode off into the crowd. “See you later, darlings,” she threw back over her divine shoulder. “Things to see, people to do, you know how it is. Come along, boy!”

The dog grinned widely, dropped me a disturbingly human wink, and sauntered off after his mistress.

“Be seeing you, Circe,” said Amanda.

I looked at her sharply. “The ancient sorceress, who turned men into animals?”

“Bit of a one trick pony,” said Amanda.

“So that dog was . . . ?”

“Oh yes.”

I looked at her steadily. “I am not your toy. Or your pet.”

“Just as well. I need a hero.”

“I don’t do that, either,” I said firmly.

“You will,” said Amanda.

I sniffed loudly. “How can this be a golden age, if goddesses are allowed to turn people into animals whenever they feel like it?”

“This is a golden age,” said Amanda, “But it’s not heaven on earth. Despite, or perhaps because, of all the gods. People are still people, whether they’re human or inhuman. Which is just as well or the world would get terribly boring, wouldn’t it?”

“Are we really going to let her just walk off, and leave that man as a dog?”

Amanda grinned. “Don’t be so judgemental. He seemed perfectly happy as he is. Though he does seem to be taking the term mistress somewhat literally.”

I remembered the smile and the wink and didn’t feel like arguing, so I changed the subject.

“How was Circe able to speak such modern English?”

“She didn’t,” said Amanda. “Instant translation is part of the transportation package. This isn’t my first time-travelling rodeo.”

I shook my head slowly. “Conversations I never thought I’d be having . . . ”

Amanda headed for the front door of the hall, and I fell in beside her. The wide slab of solid oak looked heavy enough to stop a charging rhino in its tracks, and leave it with a headache to remember. It was guarded by two oversized warrior types, splashed with blue woad and covered in great whorls of intricate tattoos. They were both wearing battered leather armour, and carrying double-headed battle-axes that looked heavy enough to chop down a tree if the guards so much as waved their axes in the tree’s general direction. They stepped together as we approached, placing themselves firmly between us and the door. I made a point of nodding casually, to make it clear I wasn’t at all impressed or intimidated, but they kept their gaze fixed on Amanda. It was clear they recognised her, and not necessarily in a good way. She nodded easily, and they bowed respectfully in return.

“We’re here to see the queen,” said Amanda.

The guards looked at each other, as though debating which of them was going to bite whatever passed for a bullet in this period, and finally the taller of the two addressed Amanda in a polite growl.

“Does she want to see you?”

“No one ever does,” Amanda said wistfully. “But she knows it’s always going to be in her best interests.”

The guard carefully worked his way through that, and then nodded glumly to his companion. They pushed the massive door open, and the wooden hinges made loud grinding noises, as though to warn everyone we were on our way. Amanda strolled cheerfully past the guards, and I stuck close beside her. I gave the guards my best I’m somebody too look, but if they gave a damn they were doing a really good job of hiding it.


Inside the hall, honey-coloured candles and brass oil lamps provided a rich golden light. Two huge fires blazed fiercely, cooking entire wild boars on slowly turning spits. Hundreds of people packed the hall from end to end, and the smell from so many people packed together was almost overwhelming. It was distressingly clear that the Roman fondness for communal bathing had never caught on here.

The walls were decorated with latticeworks of hanging vines, tangled greenery, and a profusion of brightly coloured flowers. Everyone in the hall wore simple but colourful robes, assorted bits of leather armour, and a sword or an axe on their hip that didn’t look the least bit ceremonial. Men and women alike were tall and well made and happily larger than life, eating and drinking and laughing together in loudly raucous company. Nothing like the savages I’d Seen in the other history.

The roar of conversation quickly fell away as Amanda and I made our way through the hall. Most people seemed to recognise Amanda, and those nearest drew back to give her plenty of room. The few who looked at me apparently only did so they could point disbelievingly at my clothes. I was getting a bit tired of that. I leaned in close to Amanda.

“If Londinium is such a marvellous place, and men and gods and everything else are all such good chums, why is everyone here carrying a really big weapon?”

“Remember what I said, about politics tending to be a bit boisterous?” said Amanda. “In this period, fighting your corner isn’t just an expression.”

“How do they feel about unwanted guests?”

“Just keep smiling,” said Amanda. “And act like you have every right to be here. That should keep the flies off.”

“Story of my life,” I said.

I couldn’t help noticing that while everyone seemed ready enough to bow to Amanda, no one seemed that pleased to see her. I also noticed that the crowd had closed in behind us, blocking our way to the only exit. I made a point of smiling easily about me, as though I didn’t have a care in the world, and got ready to pull out my witch knife if anyone got too close.

We finally reached the far end of the hall, and came to a halt before a large woman sitting at her ease on a very large throne. I didn’t need to be told that the warrior woman happily stuffing her blue-painted face with food and drink, and not giving a damn about the grease and wine dripping onto her leather breastplate, was Boudicca.

Amanda tapped me surreptitiously on the arm. “I am about to introduce you to the Queen of the Iceni,” she said quietly. “Be respectful.”

“I don’t do respectful,” I said. “Especially with authority figures. It only encourages them.”

“I had noticed,” said Amanda. “But these people take their honour very seriously, and she will quite definitely cut your head off if you annoy her.”

“I won’t start anything if she doesn’t.”

Amanda shook her head. “This can only go well . . . ”

“I can do polite,” I said helpfully.

Boudicca gnawed the last bit of meat from the heavy bone she was holding, and tossed it to one side. She scratched her ribs unselfconsciously, drained her wine cup and held it out for a refill. Only then did she nod easily to Amanda, and look me over as though wondering if I was worth taking an interest in. Her gaze was like being hit by a truck, and her sheer presence was so overwhelming I was impressed in spite of myself. I bowed politely, and felt Amanda relax just a little.

Boudicca was handsome rather than pretty, with dark brown skin and a proudly broken nose. Her night-dark hair had been packed with clay to give it spikes, under a simple iron crown. Her leather armour had seen a lot of use, and her bare arms showed serious scars on the bulging muscles. A battle-axe large enough to unnerve a Viking berserker lay casually across her lap, as though it belonged there. There was nothing of the feral viciousness I’d seen in the other Boudicca, but this queen’s cool and measured gaze made her seem even more dangerous. Her heavy eyebrows descended into a frown, as her gaze settled on me.

“I’m not accustomed to being stared at,” said Queen Boudicca, in a deep and only incidentally threatening voice.

“I did bow,” I said.

“Most men kneel.”

“I’m not most men.”

She surprised me then, with a loud and earthy chuckle. “Of course not, or you wouldn’t be hanging out with Amanda. Most men would run a mile, rather than risk their heart and their soul loving a power like her.”

I smiled. “You don’t know her like I do.”

Boudicca’s smile widened. “It’s not often I can find someone with the brass balls to argue with me. How refreshing. Of course, I usually end up cutting their heads off.”

I nodded. “It can be difficult for a woman to find a man who gives good head.”

Queen Boudicca laughed raucously, and everyone in the hall joined in. Amanda refused to look at me.

“Can’t take you anywhere . . . ”

While Boudicca gave herself up to laughter, and beat on the arm of her throne with her fist, I took the opportunity to study exactly what her seat of power was made of. It appeared to be thick vines threaded together, with heavy rugs to act as cushions, and presumably draught excluders in the winter. The vines were punctuated here and there with white roses, and as the general laughter finally died down I realised the roses had started singing in harmony with each other. I took a step forward to try and make out what the song was, and all the roses broke off to hiss at me ominously.

“Knock it off, boys,” said Boudicca. “I like this one. Play nicely or it’s pruning time again.”

The roses subsided reluctantly, like guard dogs convinced they knew better than their mistress.

“Should I offer them a biscuit, or something?” I said.

“Not if you like having fingers,” said Amanda. She nodded to the queen. “Hello, Boo. Good to see you again. Allow me to present Jack Daimon, the Outsider. I vouch for him.”

“Good,” said Boudicca. “That means I can give him some leeway. Now why have you returned to my court, O little gore crow and bearer of bad tidings? Didn’t you panic everyone sufficiently the last time you were here?”

“I have to warn you that really bad things are on their way,” said Amanda. “In fact, they should be crashing your party any time now.”

I looked at her sharply. “You never mentioned that to me.”

“It wasn’t time yet.”

Dozens of my dimensional doors suddenly appeared up and down the length of the hall. Men and women fell back, clawing for their weapons, and then all the doors swung open and an army of Men In Back spilled out. Long spindly shapes in shabby black suits, with unpleasant smiles on their bony faces. Boudicca jumped to her feet, battle-axe in hand, and some of her larger warriors moved quickly to stand between the invaders and their queen. The Men In Black stood unnaturally still, ignoring the raised swords and axes. They didn’t even look at Boudicca. Their attention was fixed on Amanda and me.

“I’ve never seen so many Men In Black in one place,” I said quietly. “Why are they giving us the stink eye?”

“They serve the secret masters,” said Amanda. “Emil must have ratted us out to the Department.”

“Any chance we can negotiate our way out of this?” I said.

“You know better than that.”

“There must be something we can do! Boudicca’s people have no idea how hard these things are to kill, or the damage they can do.”

“What about all the things in your pack?”

“It’s a backpack, not an arsenal. Wait a minute, what about the book? Could that help us?”

“I suppose you could hit them over the head with it,” said Amanda.

The Man In Black nearest to us suddenly took a step forward, and fixed us with an unblinking gaze. “You will die first, and then everyone else in this place. That’s what you get, for being trouble makers.”

Queen Boudicca cleared her throat loudly, just to remind everyone that this was her hall. “Amanda, Jack, you know these demons?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” said Amanda. “They have no hearts, no conscience, and they are very hard to kill.”

“Then they should make excellent sport,” said Boudicca, and a low growl of agreement ran through her people.

The Men In Black flexed their clawed fingers and bared their pointed teeth, anticipating the rending of flesh and the blood and horror to come. I took out my athame, and its presence beat on the air like the wings of a dark angel. But for all the fierce glow of its blade, it was still just one knife against an army of Men In Black.

“Can’t you do something?” I murmured to Amanda. “You’re the great magical power.”

“I brought you here to save the day,” Amanda said calmly. “So get on with it.”

I gave her my best hard look, and then turned to face the hall and raised my voice.

“I am the Outsider! Everyone here with a long bony head and a shabby outfit is advised to go home before I have to do something I won’t regret in the least. No one threatens innocent people on my watch!”

The nearest Man In Black smiled slowly. “Every living thing in this place has been marked for death because you have contaminated them with your presence. So you could say everything that’s about to happen is all your fault.”

Boudicca’s hand whipped forward, and her battle axe flashed through the air to bury itself in the Man In Black’s forehead. He fell back a step, and then recovered himself and reached up to tug the axe out of his head. The blade left a deep fissure in his skull, but there wasn’t a drop of blood. He let the axe fall to the floor, and wagged a bony finger at the queen.

“Don’t be impatient. We’ll get to you.”

“Your masters shouldn’t have sent that door to fetch me,” I said. “It’s given me a really good idea.”

I brought my athame swinging round, and cut through one particular aspect of the Men In Black. All their clothes vanished in a moment, and what had been a vicious and deadly army was suddenly just a bunch of pale and spindly naked creatures.

“Hey!” I said to Amanda. “They don’t have anything between their legs!”

“They never did,” said Amanda. “They were made that way.”

“No wonder they’re always in such a bad mood.”

“They’re homunculi,” said Amanda. “You can tell because they don’t have navels either.”

“I can’t help feeling they’ve been rather short-changed,” I said.

“Don’t start feeling sorry for them,” said Amanda.

“Really not going to happen.” I raised my voice again. “Everything in this hall that never had a mother or a father, go home! Or I will think of something even more amusing to do to you.”

For a moment I thought my bluff might actually work, and then the nearest Man In Black smiled at me.

“We will savour your screams.”

The Men In Black surged forward, and Queen Boudicca and her people went to meet them. Swords and axes flashed in the candlelight as they slammed into bony bodies, but even though the blades sank deep, no blood spurted. Clawed hands lashed out savagely, slicing through throats and guts, and men and women crashed to the floor to stain the rushes with their life’s blood. The warriors of the woad howled like wolves as they cut and hacked at the intruders, but the Men In Black refused to fall. They had been built to take damage and feel no pain, and once set in motion they would not stop until everything in their path was dead.

One young warrior leapt up to bounce off a wall, so he could drop onto a Man In Back from above. But even as his sword hacked deep into the creature’s neck, the Man In Black grabbed him out of mid air and slammed him to the ground with such force his bones shattered. His friends rushed forward to avenge him, and the Man In Black went to meet them with a death’s-head grin.

Queen Boudicca stood her ground before her throne, swinging a new battle-axe with both hands. The sheer strength of her blows sent bony creatures flying through the air to crash and flail on the floor, where howling warriors crowded in to take them apart with vicious sword and axe work. But even though Boudicca’s guards did their best to protect her blind spots, but they couldn’t be everywhere. I saw a Man In Black rise up unnoticed behind Boudicca’s throne and yelled a warning to her, but the sheer din of battle drowned me out.

I opened up a path through the struggling crowd, my glowing athame slicing through the Men In Black without even jarring on their bones, but even then some of the spindly things refused to fall. One loomed up before me, and I had to duck a blow that would have ripped my face right off. I moved in close, and gutted the creature. Something fell out that I didn’t even recognise, and I stepped quickly to one side as the Man In Black stumbled on. I slammed the athame into the back of its skull, and the creature dropped to the floor and didn’t move again.

I got to the throne just in time to see a clawed hand reach out to tear through the back of Boudicca’s neck. I screamed a warning so loud it hurt my throat. Boudicca started to turn, but the Man In Black was already too close. I lifted the athame for one last desperate throw, and a crowd of white roses erupted from the throne. Thorny stems wrapped around the Man In Black, pinning his arms to his sides while the flowers gnawed at his face. Until Boudicca’s swinging axe took his head clean off.

I turned to see how Amanda was doing. A Man In Black was heading straight for her, clawed hands reaching for her face. She leapt lithely into the air, spinning as she rose, and one foot came sweeping round in a kick that crushed the creature’s throat and broke its neck. It dropped to the floor, and Amanda’s heel came hammering down with enough force to stamp right through its skull. I fought my way through the press of bodies to join her.

“Nice moves,” I said, just a bit breathlessly. “But the Men In Black are still winning! You have to do something!”

“No,” she said. “You have to make the Men In Black respect you, Jack, or they’ll never stop coming after you.”

My thoughts raced, and then I hacked a path through the Men In Black to reach the nearest dimensional door. It was still standing open. I slammed my witch knife deep into the wood and twisted it, cutting the ties that held it in the past. The door actually shuddered, and then an unseen force grabbed hold of all the surviving Men In Black and sucked them back through the doors, all of which slammed shut and disappeared. And just like that, the battle was over. Boudicca and her people slowly lowered their weapons, and then everyone in the hall started cheering and applauding. Boudicca strode over and hugged me so fiercely my knees actually buckled for a moment. She laughed and let me go, dropping a heavy arm across my shoulders.

“Well done, Outsider! I should have known you had some serious magics, if you were keeping company with the likes of her.”

“Isn’t he marvellous?” said Amanda, beaming happily.

“I’m sorry so many of your people got hurt,” I said to Boudicca. “I brought this on you; they followed me here.”

“Never blame the enemy for its own actions,” said Boudicca. “And what the hell; there’s nothing like a good scrap to brighten up a dull day.”

The whole hall burst into laughter. The warriors of the woad put away their weapons, and set about congratulating each other on their exploits. Boudicca went back to her throne, spoke soothingly to the roses until they relaxed, and dropped heavily onto her seat. Someone thrust a side of roast boar and a cup of wine into her hands. All around the hall men and women were tending to their hurts, and seeming quite cheerful about it. They appeared more upset over the fact that the dead Men In Black had disappeared along with the living, so there wouldn’t be any trophies. I looked at all the dead warriors, lying crumpled on the blood-soaked floor, and couldn’t see anything to celebrate. Amanda put a comforting hand on my arm.

“You did well, Jack.”

“People died here, because of us,” I said.

“It’s sweet of you to think that,” she said. “But none of this is your fault. Concentrate on all the people you saved, because you had a good head on your shoulders.”

“Good thing I didn’t cut it off after all,” said Boudicca.

“I did vouch for him,” Amanda said reproachfully. “You can trust him as you trust me.”

Boudicca knocked back her wine, and held the empty cup out for a refill. “What makes you think I ever trusted you, little gore crow?” She turned her gaze to me. “You saved my people from those demons, Outsider, so it seems I owe you a boon. Ask for anything.”

She studied me carefully over the rim of her refilled cup, and I didn’t need Amanda to warn me this was test. I raised my voice, and every eye turned to me.

“I could ask for gold or jewels,” I said loudly. “I could ask for titles, or land. But I’d rather have something of greater value. The finest gift of all, if it’s freely offered. I ask for your friendship, Queen Boudicca of the Iceni. As I offer you mine.”

She looked at me for a long moment, and then a smile spread across her blue-painted face, and she nodded approvingly.

“Well played, Outsider. If you ever need me, or my people, call, and we will be there.”

“Very generous of you, Boo,” said Amanda. “But now, if you’ll excuse us, we really must be going.”

I looked at her. “We must?”

“You can’t leave!” said Boudicca. “We’re having a feast!”

“You heard the queen,” I said to Amanda. “Feast!”

“You really wouldn’t like their idea of delicacies,” said Amanda. “And, we have work to be about.”

She took me firmly by the arm, and urged me back to the main entrance. The warriors of the woad cheered and applauded me all the way the door, and I did my best to smile as though I thought I deserved it.

“Did we actually achieve anything?” I said to Amanda.

“We’ve done what we came here to do,” she said.

“Why did you bring me here, really?”

“Partly so you could see what the original Londinium was like, compared to the horror show that replaced it, but mostly so you could make friends and influence people.” Amanda smiled at me. “I knew you’d rise to the occasion, given a chance.”

“So this was really all about me?” I said.

“It’s always all about you,” said Amanda. “The one man who can help me put the world back the way it should be. The old you couldn’t do that; I have to teach you to be a better man.”

“I saved lives as the Outsider!” I said.

She met my gaze unflinchingly. “Think of all the last chances you threw away when you defused the things you thought were bombs. All the magics you destroyed, to help prop up your grey and joyless world.”

“What has that got to do with this?” I said.

“The original Londinium was written over and replaced, because it contained magical beings living happily alongside humanity, and one group of humans didn’t like that. They thought they were special and should be in charge, but the only way the secret masters could achieve that was if they were the only ones.”

I looked at her. “They rewrote all of history, just to get rid of everything that wasn’t them?”

“They thought big, for such small-minded people,” said Amanda. “But now we have the book to tell us where to go and who to see, we can undo the terrible wrong that was done to the world, and the Story.”

“I’m still not convinced bringing magic back is such a good idea,” I said.

“Where we’re going next should help you make up your mind,” said Amanda.

“And where is that?”

“Somewhere . . . interesting.”


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Framed