punch to the kidneys. Richard caught the low hand and
parried the other. As the fighter’s vision cleared, his eyes
widened in disbelief and he tried to turn away. Run.
Richard back-handed him off his feet.
The small crowd unravelled. Some melted away,
some sprinted for the safety of the dark maze at their
backs. Gin and ale fumes rode the breaths of two
spectators as they charged at him.
Glass rained.
Richard shook shards from his hair. Plucked the
bottle from its wielder’s hand and pushed the jagged end
in through the man’s throat and out through his spine.
Holding the dying man upright, he drank from the
enthusiastic dark fountain as it decanted over a wide
radius.
The fountain subsided. Richard released the
corpse.
The man on the ground rolled off his back and
made it to all fours. Thin lips peeled back from tobaccostained
teeth and he sucked in a breath-
“Hush now.” Richard sank to his knees, extending
a wide embrace. The fighter wriggled his eel-like arms,
insinuating small hands between Richard’s body and his.
His grime and blood-stained thumbs gouged at Richards’s
eyes. Bent, quick-bitten fingers manoeuvred to fishhook
Richard’s nose. Snarling, Richard snapped his mouth shut
and wrenched his head to one side. One finger severed,
one pulled apart at the joint, the fighter fell backwards. His
back did not touch the ground: Richard caught him.
Fingers tumbled over his lower lip, falling, as canines
90