The Fall of Chance by Terry McGowan Page B

didn’t say much for him as a speaker that his words of warning were as fruitless as his ones of hope but in Unt at least, they’d struck a chord. It seemed unnatural that such good fortune could fall in one swoop. He was looking out for the setback.
    Bull had spun round and was shaking hands with a host of friends so he wasn’t on hand to catch Unt’s sombre mood or to tell him to snap out of it. Unt too was suddenly bedecked with handshakes of his own and was swamped with hearty words of congratulation.
    He smiled and accepted it and made polite remarks wherever he could remember how people had got on. The warmth of affection was so genuine that he found himself embracing the mood.
    The spectating families were already on their feet, pressing for the exits so they could catch their sons or daughters as soon as they left the Hall. As the initial flurry of talk subsided, the kids started to move to the exit as well.
    With no parents to meet, Unt was happy to let the others get ahead. He’d join up with Bull’s folks eventually but that wasn’t quite the same. He sat back down and let the throng pass.
    “Congratulations,” a dead voice said. An open palm was thrust before him. He looked up and Rob was standing before him.
    “You too,” he said, not knowing what else he could say. There were no words he could give Rob that would fit.
    He took the offered hand. It was firm, strong and cold, clinical in the same way as a doctor’s. As he shook it, Rob pulled him forward; not violently or forcefully but with his natural authority alone. Unt’s face was brought close to Rob’s and for a second, Unt felt a thrill of fear.
    But the Councillor’s son had only words for him. “Be good to her,” he said into Unt’s ear. It wasn’t quite a whisper but it was like a private transmission between the two of them. It wasn’t a threat and it wasn’t a plea: it said all sorts of things and Unt nodded his understanding.
    With that, Rob took his leave and Unt sank back on his bench, drained by the brief encounter. At last, he remembered Lasper but when he looked, the Councillors’ bench was already empty. Only Croker and Morley were still in the room, shuffling the last few steps to their exit.
    Bull was on his way to the public way out, propelled along by a group of lads around him. “Hey, Unt!” he called, “You coming or are you gonna mope inside all day?”
    Unt looked around and realised that already he was nearly the last person in the Hall. “Yeah, be right with you,” he called back. This room of panelled wood would be his domain soon but not now. Now was a time to get out and enjoy the day.
    Taking his time, he ambled after the general press so that as he reached the outer doors, the way before him was clear. He stepped out into the sun, felt its warmth on his face - and an ice-cold hand on his throat.
    “You!” hissed a voice, “I don’t know who you are but you’ve just stolen my son’s life.”
    Startled, he saw the sallow face of Lasper. The old man had stolen around the building lightning-quick and had set an ambush for Unt. His boney hand was disguised by the voluminous material of his sleeve and a rictus smile tried to disguise the livid hate within. The gums around his teeth had receded and the remains were long and knife-like. The eyes were wild and his pupils mere pin-pricks in a milky-blue sea.
    Confronted with this image of raw aggression, Unt couldn’t speak. He wanted to reach up and snatch the hand away but the claw seemed possessed with a paralysing force. All he could do was stare back as Lasper released his grip and pointed skyward.
    “Enjoy your day in the sun,” he said, “Because when I get the chance, I’ll break you. The second you make your first mistake, I’ll gut you. I shall make it my life’s mission to find you out and destroy you.”
    “I, I-” Unt tried to speak but his voice was like poultry: a senseless, clucking noise.
    Lasper gripped him by the shoulders with