The Blood Line by Ben Yallop Page B

were told that the King was very interested in finding a particular line. Its existence was whispered about in the halls of the Rivenrok Complex. The Blood Line they called it. It was said to be unique but no-one knew why. The King had been looking for it for a very long time and when it was found, and it would be found, only he was to use it. Anyone who found it would be rewarded handsomely. Morley wondered what riches or powers or status he might offer.
    She continued to wait, nervous about who might come. Life hadn’t always been like this. She’d had a husband and kids, three daughters she thought although it was hard to remember. But the Riven had found her and had revealed that she was capable of magic, that she had a presence. It was either follow them or be killed and probably witness the death of her family too. She had gone with the Riven to protect those she had loved, reluctantly at first, but as time had gone on it had become easier. She had heard some kind of mind-control was being used, but if it had been used on her she couldn’t tell. What was clear though was that she couldn’t remember much about her earlier life, other than brief flashes of her family. It was as though parts of her memory had been affected. She had had another name, a first name, and she thought that once upon a time she might have been an artist or something, And she remembered baking, even now she felt sure she could have produced an impressive cake. How mundane given what she was capable of now with presence and the might of the Riven standing with her.
    She was startled from her thoughts by the tinkle of a bell as someone entered the witch’s shop from the street. Morley heard an expression of surprise from the hag who said something indistinct in a respectful tone. Morley could not hear the other voice. Whoever it was he was speaking quietly. Morley felt her stomach lurch with nervousness again but she stood upright and put her shoulders back, trying to look confident.
    That confidence pooled at her feet like warm icing when a black-cloaked man stepped into the room and give her a keen stare.
    ‘Master Pech,’ stammered Morley. ‘I…’
    Pech spoke over her. ‘You’ve found a new line?’
    She nodded.
    ‘Near a plague pit?’
    She nodded again.
    ‘Did you use it?’
    Morley shook her head.
    ‘Very well,’ said Pech. ‘Lead on.’
    Morley stepped over to the spiral staircase and began to descend, Pech’s footsteps soft and almost silent behind her. She wound down and down through the rumble of the underground trains passing nearby, acutely aware that the Riven who walked behind her was one of the most dangerous and deadly men she had ever met, and that was saying something. He was said to be one of the most efficient killers in the upper echelons of the Riven hierarchy. It made her skin prickle to have him behind her. Eventually, they reached the bottom. Morley lit a lantern and turned to Pech.
    ‘It’s, um, it’s quite a way I’m afraid.’
    Pech inclined his head and held out a hand towards the tunnel beyond. ‘Then we had better not delay,’ he said.
    It took several hours to reach the line that Morley had found. She was nervous every step of the way, worried that she would take a wrong turn and lead Pech astray. They did not talk for the entire journey but eventually, thankfully, they reached the line.
    Morley pointed to a blank space of wall. ‘I can feel it in there,’ she said. ‘Behind the dirt.’
    Pech moved over to study the wall in the darkness. They had traversed several underground train lines, several sewers and now they stood in some kind of rough tunnel, a pocket of stale, deathly cold air underneath London. He looked closely at the wall. Morley looked too. She could clearly see bits of bone sticking from it, some teeth set in a jawbone here, a femur there. On the ground some bones had worked themselves free from the wall and Pech nudged them with his foot studying them in the dim glow from the