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Viking Ink tattoo parlour was located on the floor above an arcade that was packed with kids and teenagers. It was accessible by a narrow staircase, and at the top, the staircase turned and the door opened in a long, airy room.
Big picture windows showed views of the street below, and between the buildings opposite were glimpses of the sea and the harbour. The walls were covered in tattoo designs, the floor was wood, and there were a few partitioned rooms leading off from the main space.
Nils, the owner, was the Viking of his shop name. He was Swedish, and huge. Well over six feet, with enormous shoulders, chest, and well, everything really, Avery concluded. His biceps and forearms were well muscled, and he had a long, red beard and a completely shaven head. And of course he was covered with tattoos. Avery could see the complex designs spiralling down his arms and peaking above his V-neck shirt. He was wearing jeans, so she had no idea if his legs were tattooed, but the likelihood was high.
She’d seen him around White Haven—you couldn’t miss him—but she didn’t really know him. He was vaguely terrifying, purely because of his size and aggressive look. He had the palest blue eyes, almost icy, and that really didn’t help. Avery could imagine him let loose with a massive axe, invading his way across Europe hundreds of years ago.
He looked up as she entered and almost grunted. “We’re closed.” His words held a trace of his Swedish accent.
She stopped suddenly in the doorway. She was the first to arrive. “Reuben told me to come. I’m his friend, Avery.”
“Ah! Avery, come in!” He grinned, showing the whitest teeth, and his scary demeanour vanished. He strode across the room and engulfed her hand in his large one. It was without doubt the strongest handshake she had ever experienced, and she tried not to wince. “So good to meet you. Lucky you! You’re the first, come and have a seat.”
“Oh, great,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
“You are in some club, yes? You’re all having matching tattoos.”
Avery laughed nervously. “I’m not sure you’d call it a club, but yes, matching tattoos.”
He led her to the counter and pulled a sheet of paper towards him. “It’s a cool design. Rune work and a pentacle. Very Viking—I approve.”
“May I see it?” Avery asked.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, his deep voice booming around the room as he handed her the design. “Where we putting this bad boy?”
The design was a complex layering of runes around the outer circle of a pentagram and a protective sigil in the centre, all in black ink. “How big will it be?”
“About the size of your hand.”
“Oh.” That was bigger than she’d thought, which sounded more painful. “Can I have it on my hip?”
“Sure, right or left?”
“Right, I guess.” Avery was so unprepared for this.
A woman came out of a back room as they were talking and nodded at Avery. Avery was momentarily silenced. She was a beautiful, young Japanese woman. Her long, dark hair was tied back, and a section on either side of her head was shaved. She was covered in gorgeous, inky black tattoos, flowers trailing all the way up her arms and at the base of her neck.
Nils started collecting his equipment together. “This is Chihiro,” he said. “She’s helping me tonight.”
Chihiro nodded, but didn’t speak. She sat behind the counter and picked up a magazine.
“When are your friends arriving?” Nils asked.
“Soon, I guess.”
“Great, I’ll start on you. Next one’s yours, Chi,” he instructed.
He led Avery to a small, partitioned room. “Lie on the table, drop your skirt, and wriggle under the sheet on the bed.” He gestured to the long table like a masseuse’s bench down the centre of the room. Bright lights were above it, casting a good, even light.
As Avery was getting ready, she heard the door open and Briar shouted out, “Hello?”
“I’m in here, Briar,” Avery called, glad of the company.
Briar appeared at the door and looked at Avery with a grin. “Wow, so we’re really doing this?”
Nils smiled at her. “Chihiro’s doing you. Will be about an hour or so.”
“An hour?” Avery exclaimed, her voice muffled as she dropped her head into the space in the table.
Avery was vaguely aware of Briar disappearing, then she heard the whir of the needle start, gritted her teeth, and closed her eyes.
When she finally got off the table, her skin burning, Alex and El were also in the main room, debating who was going next. Alex grinned at her. “How’s it feel?”
“Painful.”
He laughed, “It’ll soon go. You bandaged up?”
“Sure she is,” Nils said, coming out of the room after her. “Follow the instructions. It looks good. Who’s next?” he asked.
“Ladies first,” Alex said, nodding to El.
El had already got a couple of tattoos on her upper arm, and appeared to know Nils. “Hey Nils, it’s been a while.”
“Ah, beautiful Elspeth, come in honey,” he said with a wink.
Avery could hear the needle whirring in another room, and presumed Briar was still in there. She sat next to Alex. “That really hurt.”
“It won’t last long. Sorry I missed the start, the pub was busy.” He leaned in and kissed her, his hand cradling the back of her neck as he pulled her close. “I missed you.”
“It’s only been a day,” she said, secretly pleased.
“That’s enough. Did Reuben ask you about tonight?”
“Yeah. I’m intrigued, and a little worried.”
“I’ll feel happier once these tattoos are on. We need to enchant them to activate their power,” he explained.
She nodded. “Are we doing that together?”
“May as well.”
Avery looked up as the door opened again and Newton walked in. She’d almost forgotten he’d be getting tattooed, too.
Newton looked around the room, taking everything in, and then sat on a worn leather chair next to Alex. He was once again dressed in his work suit and a dark grey shirt. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in one of these places.”
“You’ve got a tattoo?” Avery asked, surprised.
“Yep. A big wolf on my right shoulder.”
Alex nodded. “Sounds cool. Where you gonna put this one?”
“Top of my left arm. You?”
Alex looked down at his arms. “No room there. It’ll go on my left shoulder.”
They were interrupted by Chihiro joining them in the main room, followed by Briar. Newton rose swiftly to his feet. “Briar, are you okay?”
She looked slightly embarrassed as well as pleased, and she held a hand to the base of her neck, securing the dressing in place. “I’m fine. I can cope with ink and my own blood.”
Chihiro eyed Alex with pleasure. He stood to greet her, and she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Alex, it’s been too long.” She stood back to appraise him, and Avery felt a trickle of jealousy run up her spine. “You look good,” she said, her voice low.
“You too, Chi,” he said softly. “You doing my ink? You did the rest!”
“It would be my pleasure,” she said, a smile playing across her lips.
I’ll bet it would, Avery thought, trying not to snort with derision. She was pretty sure Chihiro had done more than give Alex his tattoos.
As if he’d read her mind, he looked at Avery. “Meet at yours at nine? We can complete everything.”
“Yeah, if you know what you’re doing?”
He winked. “Trust me.”
***
Close to midnight, Avery stood with Alex at the entrance to the Jackson’s mausoleum, waiting for Reuben to arrive.
The door was sealed shut, but a huge crack still ran across the stone work from the foundation to the roof.
“I hope the roof doesn’t collapse on our heads,” Avery said, looking out to the church and the cemetery.
“It’s stood here for centuries, battered by the elements. I’m sure it can withstand a little magic,” Alex said.
They had met at her flat a few hours earlier as arranged, and together with Briar, El, and Newton, they had recited the spell that activated their protective tattoo. Newton had looked uncomfortable throughout the whole ceremony, but hadn’t complained once. His grey eyes watched Briar discretely, and he stood near to her whenever possible.
They drank a potion that Alex had brought with him, and then repeated the spell after him: By day, by night, dispel might, harbour love, harbour life. By air, by fire, by earth, by water, let us pass unseen, unheard, our spirits hidden.
As soon as they had completed the spell, Avery felt a flare of power on her tattoo, and the sensation of being branded with fire had flashed into her mind before it vanished.
As uncomfortable as it had been, she felt relieved it had been done. Hopefully they’d have no more surprise visits from Faversham. Reuben hadn’t joined them; Alex said he’d already completed his spell. El merely nodded, and Avery wondered if anything would be the same between her and Reuben again.
As she was thinking of him, she saw headlights beyond the church, and heard the low growl of an engine and the crunch of gravel.
Within minutes, Reuben was at their side. “You haven’t gone in, then?”
“No thanks, mate,” Alex said. “It’s a bit creepy in there.”
“Fair enough,” Reuben said. “Have you been tattooed?”
“All done,” Avery said. “Nils and Chihiro are interesting characters.”
“I’d trust them with my life,” Reuben said. “Follow me.”
He held his hand over the lock, and muttering a few words softly, they heard the lock release. Reuben turned the large handle and pushed the door open.
“What are we doing here?” Alex said, a hand on Reuben’s arm, before he went in.
“I think I’ve found a hidden entrance. It might be where my grimoire is. After the last time, I thought I’d bring some back-up.”
They followed him into the cold, damp building and closed the door behind them. Several doors led off from the main room. Stone sarcophagi were stacked high and deep, and Avery was surprised by the size of it. Her gaze involuntarily fell on Gil’s coffin, before she turned to follow Reuben into a small side room.
“This is the oldest part of the mausoleum,” he said. “I’ve been studying old plans, and something looked unusual here.”
Avery was incredulous. “You have a blueprint of this place?”
“We have plans of everything. The grounds, the glasshouse, the ice house, the main house, old garden plans, even the old gatehouse. I grabbed all the prints I could find and hid them in part of the attic. But, things have been added to over the years, so I’m not sure how accurate everything is.”
“So, this is what you were looking for the other day,” Alex concluded, looking around with interest. He flashed his torch around the corners and high ceilings.
“Yes, before I was attacked by that bastard.”
“You feeling okay now?” Avery asked.
“Yeah, thanks to you guys and Briar.” He turned away, shining his torch down to where a coffin lay on a low shelf, inset into the solid stone wall, a gap of about three feet between it and the floor. “It’s here somewhere.”
An ornate design of curling plants and flowers had been carved into the stone around a name—Prentice Jackson, 1388 – 1445.
Avery gasped. “Is this the oldest grave in here?”
Reuben looked up at her from where he now knelt in front of the stonework, a grim smile on his face. “I think so.”
“When was this built?”
“About the early 1400s. Before then, our family was buried in the graveyard. Prentice built this.”
“Wow. Most of your ancestors in one place.” She wondered where hers were buried, and realised she hadn’t even thought about it before—other than about Helena.
Reuben trained his light on one flower, and turned to them, smiling. “Look.”
They leaned closer. Within the centre was a simple pentagram, hidden within the design of the plant, the petals curling away from it. You would never see it if you didn’t look closely. Reuben pushed it with his finger, and it receded into the stone around it with a click.
For a second, nothing happened, and then the whole stone shelf and the sarcophagus on it started to scrape back into the wall.
Avery’s breath caught in her throat and goose bumps rose along her skin. This was seriously creepy. She looked back over her shoulder, but the dark shadows remained unmoving.
Alex asked, “Is that another passageway?”
“We’re going to find many more before this is over,” Reuben said, watching the space grow bigger and bigger before sticking into position. Stale, damp air wafted up from the dark hole. “Alex, help me push.”
Alex got down on his hands and knees next to Reuben and pushed the stone further back; it scraped across the floor painfully and Avery winced. Reuben flashed his torchlight into the space. Shallow steps led downwards.
Reuben grinned, his face shadowed grotesquely. “Shall we?”
Avery’s skin prickled. “Seriously?”
“You could stay here if you prefer?” he offered reasonably.
“No, thanks,” Avery said, wishing she was still in her warm flat.
“It’s okay, Avery. I’ll follow you,” Alex said. “We’ll be fine.”
Avery followed Reuben down the steps and grimaced as the cold, damp air hit her skin like a clammy hand. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, and sent up a witch light, in addition to her torch.
The steps were steep, but on the right, the wall opened out and they were soon on the floor of another square stone chamber beneath the mausoleum. Two long stone benches ran along either side of the room. In the centre was a crude fire pit, and at the far end was a carving in the wall—images of the Goddess and the Hunter. Beneath it was an altar, made from rough hewn stone. Brass lanterns hung overhead, spaced across the ceiling at regular intervals.
Alex snapped his fingers and each one lit with a bright orange flame.
“Is this a place of worship?” Avery asked, looking around in shock.
Reuben looked just as surprised. “Looks like it.”
“What better way to hide your magical practices than down here,” Alex said, pacing around the room.
“But look at the floor,” Reuben said. “Devil traps and pentacles.”
He was right. Carved into the stone were ornate diagrams and a huge pentagram.
Avery wandered over to the altar. A ritual knife still sat there, next to a goblet and a tarnished silver bowl. “But there’s no grimoire.”
Alex shook his head. “I don’t like this place. I have a bad feeling about it.”
“But the image of the Goddess and the Hunter?” Avery said. “Surely these are good symbols?”
“They should be, but I just can’t shake this feeling,” he said. His dark eyes looked troubled, almost hooded in the light.
Reuben’s face had taken on an almost fanatical gleam. “How long do you think our family used this place for?”
“It must have been built at the same time as the mausoleum, so maybe a couple of hundred years until the Witchfinder General scared them off?” Avery ventured.
Reuben traced the carvings with his hands. “Maybe they continued on their own after your families hid their grimoires.”
Avery looked at Alex, concerned. “Do you think all of our families met here together at one point?”
He shrugged. “I think so. It’s big enough.”
As Avery walked around the room, she realised there were narrow channels cut into the floor, leading towards the altar, and lined with a dark stain. Her heart almost missed a beat. “Oh, crap. Is that old blood?”
Alex dropped to his hands and knees to examine it more closely. He sighed. “It looks like it.” He looked up at Reuben, who was still examining the altar. “Reuben, let’s get out of here.”
He turned. “My grimoire is still in here somewhere.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” he insisted. “I’m not leaving ’til we find it.” He turned away again, his shoulders set.
Alex stood and moved next to Avery. “Let’s make this quick,” he said softly.
A dark feeling of dread crept up Avery’s back. It felt like something was in the room with them. Reuben was whispering spells at the front by the altar as he traced the carvings, desperate to find another mechanism. While he examined the altar, Avery and Alex walked the perimeter of the room, examining the walls for any hint of an opening or a hidden door. The rest of the walls were plain, the thick stones and their fine joins the only marks, other than a couple of small alcoves with old candles in them.
They joined Reuben, who had walked over to the devil’s trap positioned in the far corner of the room. Crude runes were cut in the floor in front of it. Despite the bright orange light from the lanterns, Avery felt as if the room was growing darker.
“I think the runes are a summoning spell,” Reuben said, dropping to his knees.
“Great, let’s not say it, then,” Avery said, wishing she was outside in the fresh air.
“Makes you wonder if they summoned a demon regularly though, doesn’t it?” he asked, running his hand across the runes. “Maybe it was their own personal demon?”
“For small personal requests?” Alex said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“Why else have a devil’s trap in the floor?”
Avery turned away towards the altar again, wondering what her ancestors got up to in here. She ran her hand across the engravings on the wall, trying to find comfort in the images of the Goddess and the Hunter and failing. Her gaze dropped to the floor and she saw the channels stained with old blood narrowing to join at the base of the wall, a shallow stone pool just visible before it disappeared under the wall. She felt her breath catch, and the others turned to her.
“What?” Alex asked, at her side immediately.
“Look,” she pointed, curious now despite her misgivings. “There’s the edge of a shallow bowl—it disappears under the wall. Maybe the wall moves back?”
“Maybe we need blood to move it back,” Reuben suggested.
Both Alex and Avery looked at him in alarm, but before they could stop them, he had pulled a small knife out of his pocket and slashed across his palm, just as Alex had done for his spell.
“No, wait!” Alex said, leaping to stop Reuben. “We don’t know what it will do.”
But it was too late. Reuben crouched down, squeezing his palm, and a bright stream of blood dropped onto the channels and into the shallow bowl.
Avery stepped back, alarmed.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
“Maybe it needs more blood,” Reuben muttered as he repeatedly squeezed his palm to increase the blood flow.
Alex moved closer to Avery, pulling her back into the centre of the room. “Reuben, enough.”
There was a loud click as the entire wall cracked in half right down the middle, a previously invisible vertical line appearing in the wall between the Goddess and the Hunter. The walls swung back, hinged like doors, and the almost silent shush of the mechanism sent chills up Avery’s spine.
Beyond the door was a small room, an altar up against the far wall, cast in shadows. They could now see the whole of the stone bowl in the floor. Leading from it, another thicker stone channel led to the second altar.
Avery sent the witch light into the space and gasped when she saw a dimensional doorway carved onto the stone wall at the back, above the second altar. “Not another one!”
“Please tell me your blood isn’t running that far,” Alex said, his tone abrupt as he addressed Reuben.
“No,” Reuben said, throwing an annoyed glance back over his shoulder to Alex. “My palm does not produce rivers of blood!”
“Good. Watch where you drip. We don’t want to accidentally open that thing.”
But Reuben was already wrapping a portion of his t-shirt around his injured hand. He stepped around the original altar that stood before the wall and went into the smaller room, letting out a short cry of joy. “The grimoire.”
Alex and Avery tentatively followed Reuben and saw a small wooden box on the altar, and resting in it was a thick, leather-bound book. Reuben reached forward for it, but Alex shouted, “Stop! Let me.”
Reuben stopped mid-reach and frowned at Alex.
“Let’s not get your blood on anything else,” Alex said, stepping past him and checking the book from all angles before he reached in and lifted it up.
“Sorry, you’re right,” Reuben muttered. “Is it my grimoire?”
“Sure looks like it,” Alex said, turning the first few pages carefully.
Avery saw some objects on the altar and frowned as she tried to identify them. There was what looked like small bone, and maybe a ring, placed together, and next to it a bundle of hair. “Oh, crap!” she said, realising what she was looking at. “That’s a finger bone!”
The others turned quickly. “Where?” Alex asked.
“On the altar.” She picked the ring up and held it under the light. It was made of gold and it had a large, red stone set into it; the ring was large, undoubtedly made for a man. She dropped it back onto the altar, grimacing.
“Let’s get out of here,” Reuben said, his bravado from earlier long gone. “We’ve got what we came for.”
As they stepped out of the hidden room, the doors closed softly behind them with a whisper that seemed to come from beyond the grave. Avery desperately hoped they wouldn’t need to return here, but had a horrible feeling they would.
