The Black Tattoo Read Online Free Page B

for him to say no.   He waited for Charlie to burst out laughing — for him to do anything, in fact, except what he did, which was shrug and say—
    "All right, sure."
    "Splendid," said Nick, already setting off back round the table toward them.
    Jack stared at his friend.  
    "Wait!" he said, his voice coming out (infuriatingly) as a kind of squeak.   "Er... what sort of 'test' are we talking about here?" he asked, in the gruffest voice he could manage.
    "I'll show you," said Nick.
    Slowly, grimacing with pain, he began to pull off his gloves, one finger at a time.   Then, when the gloves were off, he turned his hands and held them out in front of him, palms out.   There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone in the room.
    The skin of Nick's hands was horribly burned all over.   The palms were two masses of thick scar tissue — red, inflamed, and glistening.
    "Could the three of you stand in a line, please?" asked Nick politely.   "This won't take long."
    Suddenly, Jack was standing with Charlie on his left and Esme on his right.   Their faces were grim:   to Jack's mounting dismay, everyone apart from him seemed to be taking this seriously.   He looked at Nick, who had closed his eyes, concentrating — and Jack's stare widened even further.
    Something was happening.   Something weird.
    The air in front of Nick's dreadful scarred hands began to wobble and shake.   The effect was a bit like heat haze, but it only lasted for a moment, because just then a shadowy shape appeared, a shape that instantly began to thicken and stretch.   In another moment something long and silvery had formed in Nick's hands, which were closing around it.   Then, before Jack's brain really had time to register what it had seen, Nick was holding what appeared to be some sort of long metal bar, horizontally, so it stuck out to either side of him.   The bar's length stretched along all three of them — Esme and Charlie too.
    "Now," said Nick, "take hold of the staff."
    Esme went first, taking her end of the object with both hands.   Charlie took hold of his end too.   All right , thought Jack, and followed their example.   The object was smooth and cool in his hands — solid and real in every respect, save for the fact that it had just appeared out of thin air.
    "Ready?" Nick whispered.   His horrible burned hands were clamped on either side of Jack's.   "Go," he croaked.
    Jack felt a sudden pain, like red-hot scissors stabbing into his hands.
    Before he could stop himself, he let go.
    Nick's eyes snapped open.
    "S-sorry," Jack stammered.   "Wasn't ready."
    "On three this time," said Nick, through his teeth.   "Hold on for as long as you can."   He closed his eyes once more.
    "One... two... three ."
    And it started again.
    The pain was astonishing.   It felt as though the skin of Jack's hands was being peeled off with red-hot pincers, like his palms were being devoured by ants.   Jack resisted as long as he could — which was about two seconds — then he let go with a gasp.
    This time, however, Nick did not stop the test.
    Jack glanced down at his hands.   They were completely unharmed.   They weren't even tingling.   Jack turned to Charlie, fully expecting his friend to have let go too.
    But he had not.
    Charlie's hands were clenched tight around the staff, the bones in his knuckles standing out white under the skin.   His eyes were squeezed shut, and the muscles around his mouth were bunched into knots from the way he was clamping his jaw closed — but he wasn't letting go.   And that, really, was when Jack began to get scared.
    He looked from Charlie to the girl on his right, Esme.   Her eyes were closed too, but she appeared much more relaxed than Charlie.   Her face was a mask of concentration and control, and Jack could see that she wouldn't be letting go of the staff anytime soon.   What scared him was that he knew Charlie wouldn't either.
    In the breathless hush of the big, dimly lit room, Jack