The Puppeteer: Book II of The Guild of Gatekeepers

by Frances Jones

  ‘I had no idea that is how the tournament started!’ Eliza broke in. ‘What a wonderful idea!’

  ‘Ay, that it was,’ said the pedlar. ‘If it wasn’t for Queen Blanche there probably wouldn’t be a single magician left in Europe by now.’

  ‘What happened to her in the end?’ I asked.

  ‘She died of old age, in her own bed in Chateau Blanche. Well deserved, I say, for the lady who spent eight years imprisoned for a crime she didn’t commit and reunited the magicians of Europe. Well, that is the end of the tale, and here is the path. Do not stray from it again.’

  I had hardly noticed the path appear before us, so engrossed was I in the pedlar’s tale. He bobbed a strange little bow to us, shifted the enormous sack he carried from one shoulder to the other, then turned back towards the trees.

  ‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ he said, looking back at us over his shoulder. ‘Beware of the goblins. Paimpont is simply full of them, and they’re not as easy to spot as you might think. They can appear just like you or me and they’re cunning, crafty, deceitful folk. You won’t realise what they truly are until they’ve got you in one of their traps. Nasty things. They use them to suffocate poor unsuspecting travellers before cooking them. Some of the trees are even in league with them, so mind which ones you rest under! Anyhow, stick to the path and you shouldn’t be troubled by them. I shall bid you good night.’

  He had strode off into the trees before we had chance to thank him. It was only once he had gone that I found myself wondering about him, not least how he had known to speak with us in English, and how he knew so much about Queen Blanche. Emerson had said that things were not always as they seemed in Paimpont. I wondered whether the pedlar really was just a pedlar and nothing more.

  Chapter 30

  ‘Well that was peculiar,’ said Eliza. ‘But a stroke of luck nonetheless. I doubt we would ever have found Peggy or the path by ourselves.’

  ‘Yes, it was lucky indeed. Now we must hurry and find the tourney glade as quickly as possible. We’ve lost a lot of time, and there’s no telling how much further it is.’

  I set Peggy on the trail once more. She led us onwards along the path for some time before suddenly stopping and turning off into the trees.

  ‘She’s turning from the path! We must be close!’ cried Eliza.

  I guessed that dawn must still be an hour or so away, so we proceeded carefully, mindful of the pedlar’s warning. As we walked, the forest floor grew gradually flatter and easier to pick our way through. Perhaps we may just reach George and the others before Mabson did.

  It had been some time since we left the path when we stepped suddenly into a cluster of bare trees with branches outstretched like skeletal arms. In the midst of them stood a single holly tree. Its bough was immensely thick with a gaping cavity which revealed the hollow shell of the interior. Beneath the tree, three women were seated on felled logs before a fire, over which a large cauldron hung on a tripod of roughly-hewn tree branches.

  Two of the women looked only a little older than me and Eliza and were exceptionally beautiful, with smooth ivory skin and delicate rosebud lips. The third woman I guessed to be their mother or even grandmother on account of her face, which although as beautiful as the younger women’s, was framed with hair graduating in colour from grey to white.

  They were each dressed in long brocade gowns with headdresses and veils which looked as though they belonged to another century. The richness of their clothes seemed strange in comparison to the sparseness of the space they occupied.

  ‘Pardon us,’ I mumbled, stepping back out of the clearing.

  ‘No need to beg our pardon,’ said the older woman in heavily accented English. ‘Come and warm yourselves by the fire. ‘Tis unusual to see wanderers in the forest, especially by night. Where might you be going?’

  ‘We are looking for Chateau Blanche. Our friends are there, and we must find them urgently,’ Eliza replied.

  ‘At the tournament?’ asked one of the younger women. ‘We too are going that way. We are magicians and only ventured away to prepare for the duel tomorrow. Will you allow us to escort you once we are done? It won’t take very long.’

  With Mabson making his way to the tourney glade and Emerson not far away either, I was reluctant to linger. I opened my mouth to politely decline, but already the young woman who had spoken had risen from her seat and was leading us by the hand to take her place on the log.

  ‘To which Guild do your friends belong?’ asked the other young woman as she stirred the mixture in the cauldron, which had a strange bitter smell.

  ‘The Guild of Gatekeepers,’ Eliza replied. ‘We really…

  ‘Oh yes, the Guild of Gatekeepers…’ said the older woman. ‘A most distinguished guild.’

  ‘Yes, but we really should…’ began Eliza.

  ‘This really won’t take much longer,’ interrupted the woman stirring the cauldron. ‘You look exhausted. Why don’t you lie down and rest for a while? We’ll wake you when it is time to leave.’

  My heart dropped like a stone in my chest at her words. Something was very wrong. Why were they so determined to keep us with them?

  ‘We have to leave now,’ I said, standing up and raising my voice a little to keep them from interrupting me as they had Eliza.

  ‘There is no need for haste,’ said the old woman, putting her long bony hand on Eliza’s arm to keep her from following me. ‘It is not yet dawn, and your friends will still be sleeping. Have a cup of mead with us and then we will be on our way.’

  She thrust a wooden cup containing a thick, sweet-smelling liquid into Eliza’s hands. Eliza glanced at me uneasily.

  ‘No thank you,’ I said, taking the cup from Eliza and setting it down on the log. ‘We really must go.’

  Eliza stood up to leave, but the three women rose at the same time, blocking our exit. Peggy growled as they closed in on us, no longer bothering to maintain their friendly pretence.

  ‘There really is no need for haste,’ said the old woman with a smile which revealed a row of small, sharp teeth.

  ‘Stay back!’ I cried, reaching for my pocket knife, but as I drew it from its sheath the old woman stretched out her hand to stop me. I stepped back to duck away from her grasp but lost my footing and fell backwards into the cavity in the bough of the holly tree. Eliza screamed as three pairs of hands grabbed hold of her and flung her in after me, then the bough snapped closed.

  Total darkness, the like of which I had only known in the catacombs beneath London, was all around us. The sounds outside were faint and muffled, but I could hear Peggy barking and whimpering in terror. Panic swept over me as I realised we were trapped inside a living coffin.

  ‘It’s a goblin trap!’ Eliza cried, her voice trembling. ‘They’re not magicians, they’re goblins! We will be suffocated in here just as the pedlar warned us! We should have run as soon as we saw the vile things!’

  I clenched my jaw, trying to stifle the rising panic in my stomach. I fumbled for my pocket knife and began to hack furiously at the shell of the bough, but it’s wood was tough and springy, and my knife blade slipped, jarring my arm.

  ‘If I could just make a breathing hole…’ I said as I stabbed at the bough, managing to make only a small cut barely large enough to peep through, but even as I did so the bough began to contract. As it squeezed the breath from my lungs, a pain like a bed of holly leaves prickling my flesh tore through my limbs.

  ‘Stop! Stop!’ screamed Eliza. ‘It’s torture! Put the knife away!’

  I let the knife fall from my hands, and at once the tree released its grip and the pain ceased.

  ‘The pedlar said some of the trees are in league with the goblins!’ gasped Eliza. ‘How will we ever get out now?!’

  I rubbed my aching limbs where the tree had squashed me and tried to think through the pain.

  ‘Let me see what they’re doing,’ I said, pressing my eye to the hole I had made. Peggy was nowhere to be seen, and the three goblin women were hu
ddled round the cauldron with their backs to the tree, talking with one another about how long it might take to boil us, and whether this was best done when we were dead or alive. I shuddered with disgust, but fortunately Eliza couldn’t hear their gruesome conversation.

  ‘What can you see?’ she whispered.

  ‘Not much. I can’t see Peggy. No, wait! Is that her? No, it’s a wolf! It’s one of the Wolf Tribe! And there’s another! They’re wearing silver collars! It’s a hunting ambush! They’re attacking the goblins!’

  Before my eyes, one wolf after another leapt through the trees and lunged at the goblin women. They sprung to their feet to flee, but caught off guard they stood little chance against the entire wolf tribe. Their screams were sickening to hear, and I looked away in fear and disgust as the wolves took them down one by one and tore the flesh from their bodies. Eliza clamped her hands to her ears to block out the sound of the slaughter. For several minutes it continued before stopping suddenly. I put my eye to the hole just in time to see the last of the bodies dragged off into the trees.

  ‘Wait!’ I cried out to the retreating wolves. ‘Wait! Please help us!’

  One dark grey wolf with piercing blue eyes turned back at the sound of my voice. It stared at the holly tree for a few moments before disappearing into the trees behind the rest of the pack. I shouted after it, but it did not return.

  ‘They’re gone,’ I said, slumping away from the peep hole in despair. ‘We haven’t a hope of getting out of here.’

  I slammed my fist against the bough in frustration, sending a shiver through the tree. Eliza screamed.

  ‘It’s got me! The tree is strangling me!’ she choked.

  ‘What?! What do you mean?! I can’t see anything!’ I cried. At the same moment, I felt something grab me around my ankle and pull me against the bough. Instinctively, I pulled away, which only provoked another tendril to wrap itself around my waist

  The tinder box!’ croaked Eliza, struggling to release the tree’s grasp around her neck. ‘Did you bring your tinder box?’

  ‘What good is that? We can’t burn the tree down while we’re stuck inside it!’ I shouted.

  ‘Smoke it out!’ Eliza managed to say between her gasps for breath. ‘Remember Professor Goldwick!’

  Monsters and spirits despise smoke. Yes, those were Professor Goldwick’s words. I slid my hand down to my jerkin pocket and fumbled about inside. Sure enough, my tinder box was still there. With trembling hands I struck the box, blessing my luck that my hands were still free. Sparks hissed into the darkness of the tree’s interior. It shook with fury, and gripped us tighter as another tendril wrapped itself around my neck. I coughed and retched but kept striking until the char cloth kindled. The cloth smouldered, sending wisps of smoke curling up through the tree. The upper branches began to tremble. The tendrils around our necks loosened and fell away. Eliza coughed and gasped for air.

  ‘Let’s hope this works. We’re just as likely to suffocate ourselves,’ I gasped as I hastily extinguished the flame, leaving the char cloth to smoulder and fill the bough with smoke.

  ‘It’s working!’ cried Eliza as the tree began to shake even more violently than before. ‘Do it again!’

  Again, I struck a flame and then extinguished it. The smoke caught in my throat and stung my eyes, but the tendrils around my waist and ankle loosened and began to fall away.

  ‘Keep going!’ cried Eliza.

  Outside, Peggy barked frantically and circled the tree as it very nearly shook itself out of the ground, slamming us into one another with the force. Just when I thought I could bear it no longer, the shaking stopped and the bough contracted with such force that I thought my heart would burst. The sound of splintering wood resonated through the tree as the bough split from top to bottom, then it was still.

  Chapter 31

  It may have been nothing more than the wind in the branches, but I felt sure I heard a wailing scream rise up into the treetops before fading into the distance. Through the crack in the bough, I could see Peggy pacing backwards and forwards. I set my hands to it and pulled with all my strength, hoping I might prize the bough open wide enough for us to escape, but at that moment there was a sound like the flapping of many birds’ wings, and then a dozen magpies settled on the holly tree and began to peck furiously at the crack. Peggy barked excitedly and scratched at the bough with her front paws.

  ‘What are they doing?’ whispered Eliza.

  ‘I think they’re breaking open the bough for us to escape,’ I replied in amazement, for sure enough the crack was gradually getting bigger until it was wide enough to step through. Then they stopped and perched on one of the lower branches of the holly tree. On the branch above them sat one enormous magpie wearing a crown of twigs and a bright piece of coloured glass suspended from a thread around its neck.

  ‘Hail, humans,’ it said. ‘I am Corvin, King of the Magpies.’

  For a moment I was too astounded to speak. ‘Hail, King Corvin,’ I replied when I had recovered my wits and remembered my manners.

  ‘Thank you for freeing us,’ Eliza added with a curtsy.

  ‘It was fortunate that the Wolf Tribe was hunting in this part of the woods and found you, or things might have been much worse for you,’ said King Corvin. ‘The wolves and the magpies are united in their hatred of the goblins. They steal our eggs from our nests and kill the wolf cubs for meat. The wolves warned us that two travellers had been trapped inside a holly tree by goblins and needed help. It seems you unwittingly walked straight into their lair. You should be wary how you proceed through the forest from now on, for you will have angered the spirit of this tree, and there are many in Paimpont which have fallen into the wicked ways of the goblins.’

  ‘We will be vigilant,’ I replied. ‘Our friends aren’t very much further away. Once we have found them we will return to the path at once.’

  ‘That would be wise. Beware how you tread, and may good luck go with you’ said King Corvin. With that he and his retinue took flight and were gone.

  ‘Well that will make a tale to tell if ever we get out of this forest,’ said Eliza as we watched the magpies vanish above the tree tops.

  ‘Yes, but we need to find George and the others first. Peggy!’

  Peggy sniffed the ground and looked up at me with mournful eyes.

  ‘Come on, Peg,’ I said encouragingly, but she just whimpered and nuzzled her head into my leg.

  ‘I think she’s lost the scent,’ said Eliza.

  We looked all around. The green twilight of the night was gradually being replaced by the pale gloom of daybreak. In the trees above us, the birds began to sing, and a few roe deer slipped quietly past on their way back to their home range, but there was no indication of which way the Guild might have gone on their way to the tourney glade. My heart sank.

  ‘This way,’ I said, plunging into the trees where they grew a little less densely just ahead.

  ‘But we don’t know if this is the right way!’ said Eliza, scrambling to catch up as I ploughed through the ferns and brambles which covered the ground and made walking at pace almost impossible.

  ‘We’ve no hope of finding them if we stay where we are,’ I replied. ‘It’s almost dawn. We haven’t time to wait.

  We made our way as fast as the pathless ground would allow, looking out for any sign of the tourney glade.

  ‘I hope we’re not too late,’ said Eliza, looking up anxiously at the rapidly lightening sky, patches of which which were now visible above the treetops.

  ‘Look!’ I cried, stopping suddenly and pointing ahead. ‘Someone has passed this way!’.

  Only a little further through the trees, the undergrowth was trampled and bruised as though many feet had passed over it, and overhanging branches were snapped at the ends and pushed aside. We strode forward, not bothering to wait for Peggy to catch the scent again, and after only a few minutes we stepped out into daylight- real, wholesome daylight, though it seemed blindingly bright in contrast to the murkin
ess of the forest.

  We stood in a clearing which looked to have been purposely made, on account of its perfect hexagonal shape. On the far side, a single beech tree stood out in stark contrast to the evergreens all around it.

  From out of the cover of the trees, five figures with leather masks across their eyes emerged, walking with a strangely wooden gait. They didn’t say a word and seemed to either not see me or Eliza, or else look right through us. For a moment I watched them in puzzlement, then my blood ran cold as I realised who they were.

  ‘Hello, Tom and Eliza,’ said a soft voice behind us.

  We turned to see the speaker and for several moments stood dumbstruck, unable to move, much less to comprehend what we saw before us.

  ‘Claribel?’ I managed to say at last. I had to blink several times just to be sure that my eyes weren’t deceiving me, but there indeed she stood with Mabson at her side and her puppets surrounding the clearing, blocking our escape.

  ‘You’re the Puppeteer,’ said Eliza.

  ‘I didn’t want to be,’ Claribel replied, her eyes wide and imploring. ‘Please don’t think ill of me. You must understand, I had no choice. A war is coming between the forces of magic and the forces of science, but all the great magicians are too complacent to see it. Their powers combined could stave off the advance of the false religion of science, but they couldn’t see their danger. The times I urged them, begged them, to act before it was too late! But they were content to sleepwalk into oblivion. If I couldn’t unite them by their agreement, there was no option but to do so by force. The Professor Noakeses of the world are many, and their numbers are growing. An army is required to defend magic from the onslaught of science. We cannot be found wanting when the war comes, or else everything we know and love will be destroyed. I am building an army, my own ‘masked ones’ in honour of Queen Blythe.’