©AJMiller2018

Loki's Curse

The story that began in The Legend of the Witch Wolves continues:

Ruby Gilbert has fled Cornwall for London, where she seeks news of the diamond called the Faerie Star. She must bring the lost jewel to Queen Mab before Midsummer's Eve or lose her life. Half a year has passed in the blink of an eye and she is alone in a dangerous city, deep in snow. Help comes from unexpected quarters but the enemies set against her are more fearsome than ever. How can Ruby hope to overcome them?

From the slums of Gutter Lane to the palaces of the aristocracy, featuring a cast of thieves, highwaymen, nobles and were-wolves, Ruby's journey takes her to the very edge of the world, where Lord Ruin waits, hungry for souls.

Read the first chapter here:

Chapter 1 - Ice Rider

The rider halts at the gatehouse. The grey tower rises high into the winter sky, its stones grimy with soot and frosted with ice. In past times the heads of traitors were paraded on the battlements at the top, left there to rot as a warning to all who pass into the King's City. There is nothing on the battlements now but a single scruffy crow who glares down at the rider with glittering, night-dark eyes.

Two guards in heavy overcoats stand to one side of the gate, warming their hands at a brazier of smouldering logs. They take in the rider's travel stained cloak and a broad brimmed black hat, the mud splattered grey horse and the chestnut mare who comes behind on a rope. With a horse like that, the traveler must be wealthy. The guards wave the rider on through the city gates and return to their fire.

Ruby breathes a sigh of relief and urges Molly forward. If the guards had known the price on her head then things would have gone differently. Each gate and checkpoint brings fresh danger but her disguise has served her well so far. Even if she were not a fugitive from justice, the high roads of England are dangerous for a lone traveller. The only place more perilous is London itself, the city whose gate Ruby has just passed under.

On the far side of the gate rises the span of London Bridge. The sun is not yet risen and the way ahead is dim. Tall houses have been built along both sides of the roadway and the ramshackle buildings loom over her like cliffs, leaning in at crazy angles, giving the way ahead the forbidding look of a tunnel. Painted wooden signs hang above the doorways; angels, eagles, elephants and magpies, falling stars and fierce eyed kings, glimmering in the half-light like fugitive fragments from a dream.

A lantern flares up, sending shadows dancing over the decaying house fronts, and a man appears at a doorway. He jams a wooden crutch into his armpit and comes hopping over the icy cobbles, scuttling nimbly round the piles of dirty snow, his lantern swinging in his hand. He comes to a halt in front of Ruby and she reins in her horse.

"Spare a penny for a crippled soldier? One who lost his leg in the service of King and Country."

The man is dressed in threadbare coat the colour of mud and his single shoe is held together with string. His cheeks are hollow with hunger and his lips are blue from cold. He looks up at the rider with an imploring expression.

"Please, sir. I've a family to feed."

Ruby will have to make the money in her purse last if her quest is to succeed. But what use is wealth if you do not share it? She reaches into her cloak and throws down a coin. It flashes in the lamplight like a falling star and vanishes into the beggar's outstretched hand. The man opens his fingers and gasps to see a golden guinea. Enough to feed his family for a month.

"Thank you, sir -“ the old man stops when he sees Ruby's face; her hazel eyes and long brown hair. "God Bless you, My Lady," he mumbles, shuffling back to let her past.

Ruby pulls her hat brim down; it is better for people to think that she is a man.

The darkened windows of the ramshackle houses are not as empty as they might seem and rumours are already spreading in the shadows of the lone traveller with gold to spare. Long before Ruby has crossed the bridge the news of her coming has reached the ears of Mr. Famish, sitting like a spider at the heart of his whispering web in his attic room above the Raven Inn. The master thief narrows his eyes and issues instructions to the pale faced messenger boy who stands trembling before him.

"What are you waiting for?" Famish hisses, reaching out a bony hand towards Jimmy Twigg’s face. The fingernails are long and yellow, their curved points as sharp as needles. "You have your orders. Get to it - before I rip your eyes out!"

Mr Famish smiles to himself as Jimmy Twig bolts down the stairs. He rises from his armchair and steps to the window. He pulls aside the ragged curtain and peers down at the road below.

There is a gap between the houses at the middle of the bridge and Ruby halts to look out over the river. The Thames is a solid mass of ice, dotted with the beetling shapes of tiny boats. The bigger ships lie helpless and icebound along the banks but the boatmen have fixed runners to the bottoms of the smaller craft and are punting them over the frozen river with poles, ferrying goods and passengers unwilling to make the narrow and dangerous crossing by the bridge.

Along the river's frozen bank sprawls London, smoking and groaning in the dawn like a great dragon waking from sleep. Ruby gazes in wonder at the endless stretch of snow covered rooftops and the countless church spires, rising dark into the winter sky. There are more houses here than she has ever seen before and more people than she can imagine. The only landmark that she can guess at is the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral, rising through the veil of mist to catch the first rays of the rising sun.

Ruby has come to find her family. After that, she must begin her impossible search. The hope that she might find help in London is all that has sustained her in the long days of riding but now that she sees the vastness of the city she feels only dread. She understands forests and moor tops, she has walked under the stars of Faerie and talked with the Queen of Twilight, but London is another thing entirely. Where in this great rat warren should she start looking?

Ruby turns away and urges her horse on. There is nothing to gained in gawping and wondering; her life depends upon the task ahead, and Davey's too.

Despite the bitter cold and the early hour, the crossroads on the far side of the bridge is crowded with market stalls, carts and carriages. People on foot grumble at Ruby as she edges her way forward. The crowd thickens, jostling and pushing. A hand takes hold of Molly's bridle and someone grabs Ruby's leg and pulls, trying to topple her from her horse. She kicks out and draws her pistol.

"I'll shoot the next one of you who gets in my way!" she shouts.

A woman screams and the press of people pull away. The grabbing hands are drawn swiftly back and Ruby sees two hooded men pushing away into the crowd. The road ahead clears and Ruby kicks Molly forward. At once, she senses something wrong; she turns to look back over her shoulder and sees the halter rope hanging limp from the back of her saddle; Dervish is gone! The attack on Ruby was just a distraction, the thieves were after the chestnut mare.

Ruby gazes wildly about. There are carriages and horses everywhere and it is hard to see clearly in the half-light of dawn. She hears a whinny of fear and turns just in time to catch a glimpse of Dervish disappearing down an alley. A man lies low on her back, spurring her forward with a whip and gripping onto her mane with his free hand. Ruby gives a cry of rage and kicks Molly into a gallop.

"Out of my way!" she yells, and the remnants of the crowd scatter.

Molly turns into the alley and Ruby has to duck to avoid cracking her skull on a hanging shop sign. She crouches low, her face pressed against Molly's neck, as they dodge their way along the alley. Up ahead, Dervish is already turning into another side street.

"Faster," Ruby hisses into Molly's ear.

The narrow streets twist and turn like a maze and Ruby knows that she will have to keep Dervish in sight if she is to have any hope of rescuing her.

Her heart clenches as she sees a cart full of barrels being pushed out into her path. The men at the back of the cart dive for cover but there is no time for her to stop.

"Jump for it!" calls Ruby.

Molly gives a great kick and leaps over the wagon. Her back hooves crash into the barrels, sending them bouncing away over the cobbles. Molly skids around a corner and Ruby catches sight of Dervish again. The chestnut mare is faster than the grey coach horse but in the narrow lanes the rider cannot make full use of her speed.

Three more breathless turns bring them onto a cobbled dockside. Out on the frozen river the sun glimmers gold on the ice. The thief gives a whoop of delight and whips Dervish hard, urging her into a terrified gallop. Ruby bites back her rage and concentrates on keeping as close as she can. The horse thief looks back over his shoulder and flashes Ruby a sneering grin.

"You'll not catch me now!" he laughs.

They race on, between tall warehouses and the looming shapes of icebound ships. Dervish pulls steadily away from Molly and Ruby is beginning to think that all is lost, until Dervish's rider brings her to a sudden, skidding halt. The way ahead is blocked by the open doors of a warehouse and a cart piled high with bales of cotton. On one side is the warehouse wall and on the other a cobbled slipway running down to the frozen river. The man wheels Dervish about, kicks her down the slipway and gallops out onto the ice.

Is he insane? They will both be drowned.

But the rider knows exactly what he is doing; the ice is several feet thick and quite strong enough to take a horse's weight. Dervish gallops on, the ice surface splintering up under her hooves as Ruby gazes after them in mute wonder.

Beneath the arch of the bridge the shadows of men and horses move in the mist. There are wagons and carts and, further out, a line of market stalls have been built directly onto the ice. Ruby remembers a tale that her father once told her, of the Frost Fair, held on the frozen Thames when the ice grows thick enough.

Ruby urges Molly down the slipway after Dervish. Molly is badly spooked by the ice but she does as Ruby asks, galloping for all she is worth, the thunder of her hooves echoing like drumbeats in the depths of the frozen river. The horse thief turns to glance back over his shoulder and Dervish skids and stumbles. She rights herself and the rider whips her on. Ruby sees the blood on Dervishes flanks and gives a snarl of rage. She would like to take out her pistol and shoot the thief but the risk of hitting Dervish is too great.

The crazy chase cannot last long. Molly's hooves are slipping beneath her and it is only a matter of time before one of the horses loses its footing. A fall onto the iron hard ice would be deadly.

Should she let Dervish go?

There comes a sudden splintering sound and a tremor shiverers through the ice. A crack opens ahead of Dervish, widening almost at once into a jagged chasm of dark water. Dervish shrieks in terror and skids to such a sudden halt that the thief is sent tumbling forward over her head. He lands hard on the ice and slides into the icy water with a splash.

Ruby brings Molly to a stop beside Dervish. She takes hold of the chestnut mare's bridle and puts her hand on her neck. Dervish is trembling with terror and blood is running from the whip cuts in her flanks.

"Easy now," whispers Ruby. "I won't let him hurt you any more."

Dervish calms under Ruby's touch. She snorts and tosses her head, telling Ruby exactly what she thinks of riding on the ice.

The ice has stopped cracking and the horses are still. The thief is trying to pull himself out of the water but his frozen hands can't find a grip and he keeps slipping back. Ruby stares down at him in a rage.

"You whipped my horse bloody," she snarls. "I've half a mind to let you drown."

"Please miss!" The thief gives a whimper of terror and falls back into the water. He sinks and comes up again, gasping and choking. His lips are blue with cold and he is thin and starved looking. He's no older than Ruby; fourteen at the most.

Ruby slips down from Molly's back, unhooks the spare lead rope from her saddle bag and loops one end around the pommel of Molly's saddle. She throws the other end to the drowning boy who grabs it in his trembling hands. Ruby leads Molly back, the rope goes taut and the thief is hauled out of the freezing river. He climbs to his feet and shakes himself like a dog, sending water sluicing out over the ice around him.

Ruby takes out her pistol and points it at the shivering boy.

"If I ever hear of you whipping a horse that way again, I will shoot you," she says.

The boy nods his head. His skin is as pale as the ice beneath his feet and his teeth are chattering uncontrollably.

"Run home to your mother," she says. "You'll freeze to death if you stand here a moment longer."

The boy doesn't need telling twice. He stumbles away into a sliding run, heading past Ruby and back toward the dock.

Ruby leads Molly and Dervish back to shore on foot. The rising sun is dazzlingly bright and their blue shadows stretch beside them, filled with silver ice stars. The thief is long gone and they walk alone, suspended in a realm of ice and light, the city dissolved in the mist. Ruby feels the welcome warmth of the sun on her face and listens to the slowing thud of her heart. She has only taken a few steps into London and they have already come close to ruin. They still have to cross the city and find her father.

A crowd has gathered by the slipway, drawn by the excitement of the chase. Ruby jumps up onto Dervish's back and ties Molly on behind. Her hat is gone, lost in the ride through the winding lanes, so she pulls up the hood of her cloak and ties her scarf over her mouth to hide her face. At the foot of the slipway she draws her pistol.

The grim light in Ruby's eyes and the sight of her pistol is enough to keep the onlookers back and she rides past them without a word.

Ruby does not notice Mr. Famish, standing in a doorway at the foot of Darkhouse Lane. It takes a great deal to make Mr Famish leave the warmth of his den on a winter morning but he wants a first hand look at the girl who outwitted his whole gang. His eyes glisten with malice as Ruby passes.

"No doubt you think yourself a fine and clever lass," he mutters to himself. "But I'll have that horse off you, and I'll take your life too, if it pleases me. I don't like to be bested by anyone."

Ruby rides on, oblivious to the danger, with no idea that she is followed, every step of the way, by one of Mr. Famish's spies.The