With that, George picked up the skull and amulet and led us out of the tent. We followed him a short distance into the forest, though the tourney glade and the lights from the feast were still visible through the trees. My heart thudded, and a dull sense of dread hung over me.
George stopped before a hollow tree, its bough rising up like a chimney. At its base, the bough had split, forming a cavity large enough for a person to crawl inside, though the bark of the interior was blackened as though fire had passed over it.
George set the skull and amulet down inside the tree then drew his tinder box from his pocket. A few sparks flew as he struck it, one catching the dry leaf litter on the ground. It kindled, and at once flames engulfed the relics in a blaze which swept upwards through the hollow bough. I watched as the skull and amulet turned black while George chanted over them in a low voice. I caught the words flame and purify amongst others I didn’t understand.
‘Will this stop Devere’s spirit returning?’ I asked when George stopped, not daring to raise my voice above a whisper, but even as the words passed my lips a fragment of flaming bone dislodged itself from the rest of the skull and rolled towards me, stopping at my feet.
Before I had chance to stamp out the flames, George had pulled me aside and kicked a clump of wet leaves onto the escaped fragment of skull, smothering the flames with a hiss of smoke.
‘Let us hope so,’ he replied, and though he spoke lightly I had already caught the unmistakable look of anxiety flicker across his face for just a moment.
We stood in silence until the flames died back, leaving behind little more than a charred patch of earth and the blackened remains of the skull and amulet inside the hollow tree. Then George knelt down and began to scrape back the earth, digging a hole at the tree’s roots with his hands before placing the burnt remains into it and covering it over again.
‘Here may they lie undisturbed,’ he said.
A sudden rustle of wind moved through the branches overhead as he spoke. I shivered and looked up, but there was nothing there, and the other trees nearby were perfectly still. I glanced at George and Eliza. Neither of them seemed to have noticed. I said nothing, but inside me a seed of doubt had already taken root. Was he really gone, or had I assumed victory over Devere too soon? Maybe, answered my gut, but the feeling only grew stronger at the look of uncertainty I saw in George’s eyes.
‘Come, ‘tis getting late, and we have the long journey home starting tomorrow,’ he said at last, leading us back through the trees.
The feast on the other side of the glade was over, and the lanterns were being put out as the magicians returned to their tents. Eliza wished us goodnight and made her way to Bridget’s tent where she and Tabatha would be sleeping.
‘You can sleep in my tent tonight,’ said George before I had chance to wonder where I should go. ‘Tis a warm night; I will be content to sleep beneath the stars.’
Chapter 36
That night, I slept sounder than I had for many months, untroubled by the nightmares which had plagued me for so long, even in spite of the lingering fear I felt about the return of Devere’s spirit.
When I woke, it was still dark, but the morning star twinkling in the eastern sky, visible through the open flap of the tent, warned me that dawn wasn’t far off. I threw off the blankets and crept out to take a look at the sky, Peggy tagging along behind. Across the glade, Clement Atwood and some of the other astrologers were packing away their gear after a night’s sky-gazing.
‘Tom,’ Eliza whispered from somewhere close by.
‘Eliza! What are you doing?’ I said, spotting her seated on an old tree stump with a blanket wrapped around her.
‘I wanted to watch the sunrise. Bridget said it turns the stones of Chateau Blanche to gold if the sky is clear.’
I sat on the ground beside Eliza, and for a long while we were silent as the sky above the trees in the east grew pale.
‘Oh look! The shadow across your face has gone!’ said Eliza suddenly.
‘Has it?’ Instinctively, I put my hand to my face, half expecting to feel the change that had occurred since the branding had been lifted from me. I drew the pocket knife that the Venatorian had given me the previous evening and looked at my reflection in its bright blade. Sure enough, the shadow was gone.
‘I am sorry it had to end like this,’ said Eliza after a long silence, ‘for Professor Goldwick, Jack and the others, even Claribel, Mabson and…’ Her voice trailed off as though she realised she had said something she ought not, and she looked away.
‘You don’t need to avoid Emerson’s name for my sake,’ I said. ‘I don’t quite know how to say it to Tabatha and George, but I feel like they think they shouldn’t grieve because of what he did to my family. I don’t want them to feel like that. I wouldn’t want to feel like that if I was in their position. I don’t think I could have ever forgiven Emerson for what he did, but he sacrificed his life to save us- and lift the branding from me. He did a wicked thing, but I don’t think he was a wicked person, just as I don’t think Claribel was.’
‘No, she wasn’t, was she? We do live in a very mixed-up world, Tom. I’m glad I have a friend like you.’
I smiled. ‘Me too.’
As we spoke, the first rays of dawn peeped over the tree line and settled on Chateau Blanche, turning its stones to gold, its roof twinkling like dozens of glittering jewels. Eliza gasped.
‘’Tis quite a sight, isn’t it?’ said a voice behind us.
Eliza and I turned to see Tabatha walking towards us with Bandit at her heels. She looked refreshed, but I detected a hint of sadness in her voice.
‘It’s almost too beautiful to leave behind,’ she said, seating herself beside us. ‘But I’m ready for home. Colonel will be missing me and Bandit.’
At that moment, a loud hoot filled the glade. I looked up and saw an enormous snowy owl glide out of a window at the top of Chateau Blanche, turn around and disappear back inside as George, carrying Anna Perenna, appeared from one of the tents across the glade, deep in talk with two of the other guild leaders he had duelled with last night. One was dressed immaculately in all black apart from the crisp white stockings beneath his breeches and the collar of lace at this throat, while the other wore a long bottle-green coat, patched in many places, and a fur hat, which looked uncannily like a black bear cub curled up on her head. They stopped as they reached the door of the Chateau, where the other guild leaders were already assembled, then George beckoned us over.
Daylight spread over the glade as we made our way to the Chateau, and for the first time I noticed the peculiarities of its appearance. It was more like a large, odd-looking house than a normal castle with a moat and defences. It was quite compact, comprising just one tall, tower-like building with a domed roof encircled by a balustrade. The front of the Chateau was plain except for the arched doorway and the window just below the balustrade from which the owl had flown. Towards the top of the Chateau’s façade, numbers had been carved into the stone in a circle, with a large iron arrow on a pivot in the very centre.
‘It looks like a giant cuckoo clock,’ I whispered to Tabatha and Eliza. ‘Except, with an owl instead of a cuckoo.’
‘Good morning,’ said George as we joined him and the other leaders at the door to the Chateau. ‘I thought you ought to know what has been decided regarding the fate of Anna Perenna.’ He gestured to the man dressed all in black. ‘This is Hadwin Von Gunten of the Keysmith’s Society of Switzerland.’ Hadwin bowed reverentially. ‘And this is Taika Benedicta from the Northern Coven of Forest Magic in the far north of Europe.’
The lady in the patched coat clapped her hands together and bobbed a funny little curtsy, then George proceeded to introduce the three remaining guild leaders: Ippolito of the Brotherhood of the Turul in the Kingdom of Hungary, Giovanni Bruno of Seguaci del Modo Magico in Florence, and Guillaume Dupuis of Le Masque.
The leaders crowded round the door as Taika stepped forward and opened her arms in a gesture
of embrace while she recited a chant, then tapped the door with a rod of yew wood. As she did so, a keyhole appeared in the centre of the door, and Hadwin set a small iron key to it which unlocked the door at once.
‘Follow me,’ said George.
Inside, the Chateau was bare except for a stone staircase spiralling to a floor close to the top of the building, and from the roof a vast pendulum hung almost to the floor, swinging gently.
‘It is a clock!’ Eliza cried.
‘Yes, indeed,’ said George leading us up the staircase, followed by the other leaders. I counted over two hundred steps before we reached a single room occupying the entire floor. The domed roof rose several feet above us, and beside the window the snowy owl we had seen was perched on the back of a chair. He regarded us with a proud stare as we crowded into the room and looked around at the numerous objects assembled there, some quite ordinary looking, others bizarre and obviously magical.
‘This is Albinus,’ said George, gesturing to the owl, who simply stared at us unblinking. ‘Albinus is the guard of Chateau Blanche. You may have already realised from looking about this room, but the Chateau is more than just a clock; it is a repository for all the precious and dangerous magical objects which have been created by the magicians of Europe over the centuries- and which it would be unwise to leave unguarded in the outside world. Together, the first leaders of each of the European guilds enchanted the Chateau to create a giant clock counting down four years to each tournament before re-setting itself, but as time passed it became clear that a place of safety was needed to keep those things which it would be unwise to leave in the outside world. Here they are kept, guarded by Albinus and under lock and enchantment, until such a time when it will be safe to release them.’
‘How secure is the Chateau?’ asked Tabatha, eyeing Albinus doubtfully.
‘It cannot be unlocked without each of the respective leaders of the European guilds present,’ George explained. ‘The first leaders of the Guild of Gatekeepers, the Brotherhood of the Turul, Seguaci del Modo Magico, and Le Masque each placed spells of protection and strength upon it so that it could not be broken into by force. And as you saw, the key hole in the door only appears under a specific enchantment created by the first leader of the Northern Coven of Forest Magic, which Taika demonstrated, while the Keysmith’s Society’s key cannot be copied, for it and the lock change every hour.’
Tabatha nodded, satisfied that the measures in place to prevent theft would thwart even the most sophisticated burglar.
‘Here may Anna Perenna remain in safety, a testament to her creator’s craft,’ said George, stepping forward and placing her on a shelf beside a wooden case with a glass front, in which six pale, sandy-coloured moths, their wings outstretched, had been pinned to a cushion.
‘What are they?’ asked Eliza.
‘They are vampire moths,’ said Taika. ‘One of our number, a zoologician by trade, charmed them by accident while experimenting with ordinary moths. They were brought here after they vampirised all the light from a village in Karelia, leaving it in total darkness for a month.’
‘And that is a most unusual pocket watch made by a Swiss watch-making magician,’ said Hadwin, pointing to a beautiful but rather harmless-looking pocket watch with a gold case and fob. ‘Whoever winds it will find it reveals the exact time and date of their death.’
‘Yes, there are many such unwholesome and dangerous things housed here, but also plenty of wonderful and priceless creations too,’ said George.
‘’Tis a shame they must be kept hidden,’ said Eliza.
‘Indeed, but some are so precious that they simply couldn’t be replaced if they were ever lost or destroyed,’ said Guillaume Dupuis, stepping towards a painting of a castle in the middle of bright green fields. The sun shone brightly overhead in the cornflower sky. ‘This is the only one of Barthélemy d'Eyck’s ‘moving shadow’ paintings to survive. Watch the shadows of the castle and trees and see how they move as the sun crosses the sky.’
‘Incredible,’ Tabatha breathed as we each stared at the shadow of the castle moving slowly towards the front of the painting as the sun passed overhead.
‘While we are here, friends, I wondered if I might make use of Zimmer’s Pendulum?’ said George suddenly.
‘George, you know well that it is forbidden for any of us to use the objects housed in the Chateau,’ said Guillaume sternly.
‘I know, Guillaume, and I do not ask for myself. As you no doubt have heard by now, Tom here traded his memory of the faces of his deceased family in order to free Eliza from the fairies of Paimpont. Those memories are all he had left of his family. I cannot imagine a braver or more selfless act, and moreover, it is because of these two young people that we are alive now. I would not even ask if the circumstances weren’t quite exceptional.’
The other leaders looked around at each other as I wondered what Zimmer’s Pendulum might be, and what it had to do with my memory.
‘I think under the circumstances we should waive the rule this once,’ said Taika, and all the leaders nodded in agreement.
‘Thank you,’ said George. ‘Tom, please sit.’
He gestured towards a chair and went to retrieve a pendulum of some sort of dull metal off a shelf along the opposite wall. It looked very old, and the chain from which it hung was a little rusted.
‘This is Zimmer’s Pendulum,’ said George, holding it up. ‘It was created by the famous Swiss clock maker and magician Armend Zimmer. It can retrieve memories from the deepest, most forgotten corners of the mind. With your permission, Tom, I’d like to see if it can recover the memories you have lost. I can’t say for certain it will work but I think it is worth a try.’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said eagerly, my stomach doing flips at the thought of perhaps recovering the precious memories of my family’s faces.
‘Good, just relax and stare straight ahead, through the pendulum,’ said George, swinging it gently in front of my face.
It was difficult to relax with so many people watching me, but eventually I felt my eyelids become heavy, and the room, George and the others, and even the pendulum itself became distant and fuzzy. George began to speak in a low, chanting voice, and I felt my mind suddenly swirl with memories of things I had long forgotten, but not one glimpse of my mother’s, father’s or Lizzie’s faces was to be seen.
At last, the pendulum stopped of its own accord, and I blinked and looked around. Everyone was watching me in anticipation.
‘Well, can you remember them?’ asked Tabatha.
‘Try to envisage your family and focus on their faces,’ said George gently.
I stared at a patch of sunlight on the wall and thought back to the last time I had seen my mother, father and Lizzie together in the kitchen of our cottage in Osmington Mills. The cottage itself- the knots in the wood of the table and the slope of the uneven walls -seemed sharper, but the faces of my family were still absent. It was as though they had never really been there at all.
‘I still can’t see them,’ I said, trying to hide how bitterly disappointed I was.
Eliza looked close to tears. George’s eyes were filled with pity, but he spoke lightly.
‘No harm done in trying. Fairy magic is strong, after all. As with the stars on a cloudy night, just because you can no longer see a thing, it doesn't mean that it's not there. Perhaps a charm might work better. Let me think on it a while.’
My heart sank, and behind me I thought I heard Giovanni muttering. ‘Stolen memories cannot be recovered except from the thieves themselves.’
We followed George and the other leaders back down the staircase and into the sunshine of the tourney glade. While we had been inside the Chateau, the tents, lanterns and duelling field had been removed. There wasn’t a sign that the tournament had ever taken place there. The door to Chateau Blanche was closed, and its keyhole disappeared.
With a final look back at the empty glade, each of the guilds, along with the dozens of solitary magicians,
witches and wizards who had attended the tournament, set off for the forest path. As we passed through the clearing where Claribel and Mabson had found us, and where the dead had been buried, we stopped to pay our respects. In the middle of the clearing, the Architecturian had erected a flat stone tablet over each grave with the names of the dead carved into them. Wreaths of wood anemones lay upon each one, enchanted by the Agriculturian to never wilt. In a far corner of the clearing two freshly covered graves lay, but there was no stone to mark them. I guessed they belonged to Claribel and Mabson.
I looked down at the stone before me with the simple inscription Jack Fletcher and felt my heart sink into my stomach.
Eliza put her hand upon my shoulder. ‘Let’s go,’ she said quietly.
‘No, wait a moment,’ I said, gathering a handful of dog rose and honeysuckle blooms growing wild around the edge of the clearing. Splitting them into two simple posies, I laid one on Jack’s stone and the other on Emerson’s beside it. Emerson’s stone was adorned by a second wreath of plaited vines fashioned into the shape of a heart. Tabatha stared down at it, tears misting her eyes.
‘Come, we should leave,’ George said heavily. ‘We must reach the path before nightfall.’
We left the clearing in silence and continued on our way through the forest. Before it was lost from view, I looked back through the trees to see a shaft of sunlight beaming down into the clearing, glinting off the wings of the insects moving in gliding circles through the air.
Chapter 37
It was almost evening, and the green twilight of dusk was creeping out of the hollows when we finally reached the path and said our goodbyes to the other guilds and magicians, whose path lay to the east.
‘Goodbye! We will see you again in four short years!’ and ‘Keep to the path! Have a safe journey,’ they called as we watched them disappear into the gloom.
The Puppeteer: Book II of The Guild of Gatekeepers Page 18
