The Necromancer Trilogy: Prophecy

Chapter Eight - Bastard Cruel

“We’re here,” Chrysanthemum announced, pulling the car smoothly to a stop outside a graffiti-covered shop front.

“We’re where?” Sophie asked, her voice almost back to normal.

“Bastard Cruel’s.”

There was a long, expectant pause.

“You know,” Sophie said, thoughtfully. “I was almost sure you were joking when you said that name earlier.”

Celia shrugged. “He might have an odd name but he’s a great guy.”

“Bastard Cruel? What am I meant to call him? Mr Cruel? Bastard? What?”

Celia sighed. “Just follow my lead. He’s an odd person, but he’ll give us what we need.”

“What do we need?”

“A way to keep you safe.”

During this conversation, Chrysanthemum had marched up, side-stepping a broken bottle, and rapped on the spray-painted door to the closed shop.

“Yes?” a voice from the other side said, suspiciously.

“Hey, Bastard,” Celia said, chirpily. “It’s me. Let us in?”

There was a grunt and the door was yanked open. A man stared out at the three of them. Sophie stared at him.

“Well,” he said, depressively. “You’d better come in then.”

  Bastard Cruel was tall and broad, with swamp-green eyes and dusty-blonde hair. His face was square, his expression hard, his skin a network of scars. Sophie tried hard not to feel afraid.

“So,” he nodded once. “Celia is back. What is it this time? Information?”

Celia shrugged and nodded. “Please,” she added.

Bastard sighed. “And dear, pretty Chrysanthemum too,” he grumbled. “To add to my humiliation.”

He looked at Sophie for a long time. She looked straight back, examining his scars while he examined her eyes.

“Who are you?” he asked, shortly.

“Sophie,” she managed a small smile. “Merith.”

He grunted. “Fourteen or fifteen?”

Sophie blinked. “Um….I’m fourteen…”

“Yeah. Most newbies are found round then. When they start to feel really unbalanced. What are you doing with Celia, Sophie Merith? Someone just beginning like you should keep well away from these two.”