Doctor Who_ Cats Cradle_ Witch Mark - Andrew Hunt [50]
Back inside she blew out the candle and, with only the flickering light of the torch in the corridor outside to hinder her, drifted into a heavy sleep haunted by a man with red eyes who rode a centaur into battle against men of stone.
5:
An Unexpected Party
Jack dreamed.
He didn't have peaceful dreams. They were haunted by a figure, half man, half horse, which lay with shattered limb and then burst into flames. The fire spread from the centaur and engulfed Jack too until his vision was blurred by the heat. Eventually it shifted to a red haze which became the sun shining through closed eyelids. He opened his eyes and sat up in bed.
He reached across to the bedside table and picked up his watch, gazing blearily at the face until the hands became unblurred. It was two o'clock in the afternoon. The bed on the far side of the small table was empty but showed signs of having been slept in.
Jack stood up and stretched. Pulling a toothbrush from his rucksack he left the room and went through the door across the landing into the bathroom.
He brushed his teeth and spat out the disgusting taste that lingered in his mouth from the night before.
A dash of cold water across his face brought the world into sharper focus and after a brief sojourn on the lavatory he stepped into the blissful embrace of a warm shower.
Working up a fine lather all over his body he thought over the events of the previous evening. As they had walked back into Llanfer Ceiriog from the scene of the crime, David had told Jack of what had passed between him and the centaur. The details were vague, but the centaur's name had been Cheiron and he claimed to have come from a gateway between some stones. He had repeatedly mentioned other names and in his delirium had cursed and ranted against someone called Arawn, but no other details had emerged. When Jack and David had reached the Black Swan, they had booked a room, bought several cans of Newcastle Brown and then retired to their room to discuss what course of action they should take. They had sat up talking into the early hours of the morning and had decided that they would register a complaint at the nearest police station - which close examination of their map revealed was at Gwydyr - and then try to seek out the place that had a stone gateway. Jack towelled himself dry and felt that a great deal of the tension in his muscles had been washed away along with the dirt of travel. He strolled back across the landing and found David waiting for him.
'Well?'
'Well, what?'
'What've you done?' Jack asked. He began to pull on his clothes.
'I called the police in Gwydyr and they weren't interested. I called a Detective Inspector in Swansea and he wasn't interested. And I called the Chief Constable of Clwyd and he wasn't interested. I did, though, manage to get the landlord to give us breakfast -' he looked at his watch - 'seven hours late. '
'Good stuff,' Jack congratulated him. 'But nobody wanted to know about the centaur?’
'It isn't easy persuading people to take a complaint against a policeman who's burnt a centaur to death seriously,' David complained.
Jack nodded.
'I did try to find out about a government research station around here, but no luck.'
'Hardly surprising.'
'No, that was just a load of bull he was spinning us. I guess the thing to do is to see if we can find out where Cheiron really did come from.'
‘Yeah,' agreed Jack, tugging a sweater over his head. He pulled it down tight and then spread its edge, revealing a picture of a sheepdog tracking a sheep. ‘What do you think?'
'Very cute, yes. A stone gateway - it's not much.'
'We’ll just have to scout around, see what we can find. Are you sure there was nothing else he said that might give us a bit more idea?'
Like I said, he was babbling