I only had a few hours of darkness left, and I needed to move quickly. I had two days until the drug shipment came in and would be distributed across London. Two days wasn't a long time to crack the Syndicate's distribution network. They were going to reshuffle, reorganize, and change all the patterns they'd been using. That meant different stash houses, different routes, and any information I'd managed to find out so far would soon be rendered completely useless. I had to move fast. I had to start building my intel from scratch, and that would start with Sherbert.

  I went back to the playground, hoping he might still be loitering about, but he was nowhere to be found. I zipped back to his home and knocked on the door. It felt strange, knocking on a homeless person's door, but I heard grumbling and mumbling from inside and knew Sherbert was home.

  "It's me, Sherbert!" I called through the door. "Are you there?"

  I heard the big man moving slightly quicker, knocking into things as he made his way to the corrugated door and pulled it back with one mighty hand. He blinked at me blearily; his eyes were red, and the smell of alcohol was so strong it made my eyes water.

  "Mr. Mage," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "What are you doing here?”

  "Sorry to wake you up, but I've got news. I need your help," I said.

  Sherbert nodded and invited me in. There were three empty liquor bottles lying around his bed. By the smell of them, they were the strongest and cheapest things you could buy. He mumbled, slurred, and fell back into his nest of a bed, staring up at me.

  "Sorry, Mr. Mage, I was just sleeping," he muttered, not so discreetly brushing the bottles aside.

  "It's okay, it's late, I guess." I replied, suddenly feeling awkward. "But I need your help. I managed to track down Brick.”

  "You did?" Sherbert said, and to his credit, his eyes cleared slightly, and his ears perked up.

  "I tracked him to a warehouse, and I managed to listen in on a meeting he was having with his men and, I think, a higher-up in the Syndicate. They've got a big shipment coming in within the next 48 hours," I said.

  Sherbert nodded along, paying attention intently.

  "The problem is, though, with what I've been doing and with the police presence, they've decided to switch everything up. They're changing their patterns. They're going to change the routes and they're going to change their stash houses."

  "Yeah, don't surprise me," Sherbert replied, scratching his stubbly chin.

  "I need you to tap into your network," I said. "Homeless people have the best eyes on the streets. I need all of them on the lookout for any Syndicate activity. I need to know about anywhere there might suddenly be more goons than there were before, or anywhere that looks like they're reinforcing or preparing for something. I don't know where their stash houses are, but if we can track down where the Syndicate is, we might be able to figure out where they're planning to store the drugs."

  Sherbert nodded along and frowned slightly.

  "I'm not sure if everybody will want to, Mr. Mage," he said. "Folks are scared of the Syndicate, they might not want to get too involved.”

  "I understand that," I said. "And I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m just asking for them to keep their eyes open while they go about their business. If they hear anything, I'll pay cash. We've only got 48 hours, Sherbert, and by the sounds of it, this is a big shipment, and it's not just for the Mulberry Estate either. It looks like it's going across New London. If we can hurt them here, then we might be able to really take a chunk out of the Syndicate."

  "Don't you worry, Mr. Mage. I already know a couple of their usual places. I can start there, and I can put the word out for you. Don't you worry," Sherbert said, nodding excitedly.

  "Thank you. I'll be back tomorrow night at midnight. Meet me in the park."

  Sherbert nodded enthusiastically again.

  "What do you plan on doing with all them drugs, Mr. Mage?" Sherbert asked.

  I looked at him. It wasn't exactly something I had thought about. After all, I already had a closet full of drugs that I hadn't yet disposed of.

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  "Get rid of them," I replied noncommittally.

  "Well, let me know if you need any help with that," Sherbert said, and I wasn't certain if he was making a joke or not.

  I thanked him again and walked out, hoping that Sherbert's network of homeless would at least give me an idea of where the drugs might possibly be going. Because right now, I was in a city of 12 million people with just as many houses, flats, shops, holes, corners, and underground lairs. Any one of them could be used to house these drugs. Finding the Syndicate stash house was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. A really big fucking hay stack.

  *

  I was wired with nervous energy by the time I arrived back at my flat. With a glimmer of golden yellow breaking over the horizon, I realised it would be hours before I could do anything useful. Just as I was getting close to home, I looked at the building opposite mine and saw a row of dark avian figures on the rooftop. Pigeons. They sat there, alert, making no noise, barely moving, and just watching. I had the sneaking feeling they were watching for me.

  My hand strayed towards my Wrist Rocket, the other towards my cloaking spell on my belt, but the pigeons didn't seem to be aggressive. They didn't seem to be doing anything other than watching. I gritted my teeth under my mask and let my hands fall away. The Pigeon King was going to be a problem I'd have to solve another day. For now, I used the last vestiges of my strength to reactivate my cloaking charm. As I felt the darkness engulf me, I knew I had maybe a minute or two's energy left before it dissipated. So I quickly flew across to my roof, down the fire escape, and into my flat window. I stumbled and almost fell as I tumbled through the window, pulling it shut tight behind me and drawing the curtains.

  The cloak vanished instantly. This enchantment might be useful, but it drained me so quickly, I was worried about using it in a combat scenario. If I had to use it to its full extent and then fight, I didn't think I'd have the energy to even defend myself. Again, that was a problem I could worry about another day. I had 48 hours, and my only concern needed to be the Syndicate and their stash houses.

  I didn't even have the energy to pull off my gear. I simply yanked my balaclava off my head and leaned against my bedside, sitting on the floor. I glanced under my desk. I had wanted to crack open the Codex again to continue my learning, but I was so exhausted, I didn't think I'd be able to even unjumble the dense language of the Codex, let alone learn anything from it. So, with a few heavy blinks, I slumped against the bed and fell into another troubled sleep

  *

  I was back in the inky blackness, back on the lake. It seemed to be only a few inches deep but endlessly wide. I was naked and cold. This time there was no moon, but thousands…no, millions of stars in the sky, and they felt so close that I could reach up and brush my fingers across them. The air was completely dead and the silence was smothering. Somewhere, far away I could hear the gentle drip of water and the clank of chains.

  I took a step forward and the water rippled ominously around me. I looked up and and there, in the distance, I could see the tree again. This time it was completely white, like it had been in a fire and its bark had turned to ash. It's gnarled, dead branches, twisted towards to the stars as if desperately trying to escape this hellish void. At it's base was that thing. It was sitting with its knees pulled up to its chest, hunched over, its head hanging as if it had sat there for an eternity. Something about the bent of its body looked almost sorrowful.

  I took another step and watched my ripples pulse outwards. They seemed to gain speed rather than lose it, becoming almost like mini waves as they reached the feet of the silhouette in the darkness. The ripples of my feet washed over its, and I saw it raise its head, like a spider when a fly lands on its web.

  "You always return," the silhouette said, a lecherous smiles spreading across its face and its white tombstone teeth gleamed in the darkness. "They always return.”

  I clenched my jaw and swallowed down my fear. I needed answers. This had gone on too long.

  "Are you..." I said, my voice echoing in the darkness. "Are you the Hollow?”

  The creature's head tilted to one side, a wicked, broad, white-toothed smile spread impossibly wide across its face.

  "You would speak such a name in such a place? You are indeed a foolish boy," the silhouette said. "A void is nothingness, little one. Do you believe we are nothing?”

  I didn't know how to answer that. I just stood and waited. I noticed its voice didn't echo like mine, but as it spoke, whispers followed, and those did echo, bouncing around the water and in my head.

  "What do you want?" I tried to shout, but my voice came out more as a strained, pleading noise. "What have I done? What do you want from me?”

  "From you? You've come to us seeking. What do you want?" the silhouette asked. "Whenever something is given, something is taken. What are you willing to lose for that which you seek?”

  "I don't want anything from you," I said, finally finding my voice, as the whispers became maddeningly loud. "I don't want anything!”

  "Then why do you search, mortal? Why do you disturb our punishment? Why do you insist on hurting us?" Its voice deepened, becoming a growl that broke across the water and thundered into my chest. "WHY DO YOU CALL TO US?”

  The words blew me down with the force of them. I stumbled and fell into the water, and suddenly it wasn't an inch deep anymore, it was fathoms deep. As deep as the middle of the ocean. It was a living entity that wrapped around me and dragged me under its surface. I tried to scream. The inky black water filled my mouth, my nose, my lungs, and I drowned in the darkness.

  I woke up screaming, thrashing, and fighting. I was in bed, but I didn't remember getting into it. I tumbled down to the floor, gasping for air, retching. I coughed and dragged myself onto all fours, then blinked heavily, opening my eyes properly. I wasn't at home; this wasn't my bed. I was in some sort of dark stone room. It was cold and damp. Was I still dreaming?

  "Good morning, mageling. You and I have much to discuss.”

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