The Shadow Lantern

by Teresa Flavin

  A TEMPLAR BOOK

  First published in the UK in 2013 by Templar Publishing, an imprint of The Templar Company Limited,

  Deepdene Lodge, Deepdene Avenue, Dorking, Surrey, RH5 4AT, UK

  www.templarco.co.uk

  This ebook edition first published in 2013 by Templar Publishing

  All rights reserved

  Text and illustrations copyright © 2013 by Teresa Flavin

  Cover design by www.the-parish.com

  The right of Teresa Flavin to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  ISBN (ePub) 978–1–84877–517–6

  ISBN (Mobi) 978–1–84877–661–6

  For Alicia

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  The Wee Cuppa Café was packed with chattering teenagers who had just escaped from nearby Braeside High School. Every seat was taken and the tables were covered with cups, crumbs and scrunched-up napkins. So many backpacks and wet jackets were piled on the floor that Ellie the waitress had to kick them aside with her foot as she bustled over to Sunni Forrest and Blaise Doran’s table.

  “What is it with you two?” she asked good-naturedly, as she put down another hot chocolate for Sunni and a second latte for Blaise. “Got no homes to go to?”

  “It’s Friday, Ellie!” Sunni said, inhaling the delicious fumes rising from her cup. “Besides, who wants to walk home through that?” She nodded at the wind and rain lashing at the café’s picture windows.

  “It’s just a bit of weather.” Ellie shrugged. “Or are you scared the ghosties will get you?”

  “I think all the ghosties are in here.” Blaise waved his hand at the Halloween decorations hanging on every wall and door. Ellie laughed and hurried away.

  “And all the ghouls, too,” said Sunni under her breath, looking sideways at a table of boys teasing a girl across the room. “Wonder how long it’ll take Shug and his mates to start on us.”

  “Who cares? I sure don’t.” Blaise doodled in his new pocket-sized sketchbook. “Just ignore them.”

  Sunni sighed and watched him draw. He was so laid back she wondered whether he’d even notice if she wasn’t there, and whether he’d care. She’d lied to her stepmum – again – about where she was going after school so she could be with Blaise, and sometimes he didn’t seem to appreciate it at all.

  “What are you doing tonight?” she asked, spooning whipped cream into her mouth.

  “Aw, probably not much. Maybe watch a movie with my dad or something. What about you?”

  “I’m going to Mandy’s birthday party,” she said.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. It’s a sleepover.”

  “Bunch of girls then.”

  “So?”

  “So… nothing.” Blaise finally looked up at her. “I guess you’re not grounded any more if you can go to a party.”

  “They’re letting me go because she’s my oldest friend.” Sunni winced inside. She hated being dishonest but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

  “Then tell Mandy happy birthday from me.”

  “Okay.” She sipped her hot chocolate to calm herself down. She got butterflies every time she saw Blaise now. It wasn’t just because she was lying to him. That was awful enough. What hurt more was that he was always polite and friendly, but nothing more. Eight weeks ago in London they had almost kissed, but there was no sign of that happening again, thanks to Sunni’s stepmum and dad.

  We just want you to have a bit of a break from Blaise. That’s how Dad had put it to her, but it wasn’t what she had overheard her stepmum Rhona say to him. That boy’s father let them roam around alone in London and look what happened. Blaise took Sunni to the Starling House museum because a stranger told him it was cool – and they were kidnapped! He’s a nice enough kid but he’s not a good influence on her.

  Sunni hadn’t been able to tell Blaise that her parents blamed him for getting them in trouble during their visit to London, so she had said she was grounded. After a while he stopped asking her when she’d be free to hang out again. That’s when she started to lie to Rhona and her dad.

  “What are you doing tomorrow night?” Sunni asked. “For Halloween.”

  “Not sure. Probably nothing. Maybe Dad and I will—”

  “Watch a movie?” Sunni finished for him. “Two nights in a row?”

  “Are you saying I’m boring?” Blaise grinned as he downed the dregs of his latte.

  “No, it’s just that Halloween is on a Saturday night this year! You should do something fun.”

  “I don’t have a costume,” he answered. “And it wouldn’t be any fun without you there.”

  Sunni flushed. “I hate this. I wish I could do what I want, when I want.” And with whoever I want.

  Blaise just gave her a sombre smile. Then his gaze shifted to something behind her shoulder. He stared for so long that Sunni turned round to look.

  “What is it?” she asked, noticing nothing but crowded tables and the windswept street outside the café windows.

  “I’m not sure,” Blaise said. “I thought I saw something – someone – hanging around outside, staring at us. But he’s gone now, if it was a ‘he’.”

  “There are lots of people out there,” Sunni said. “Was it someone we know?”

  “I couldn’t see his face. He had a hood on.”

  “You don’t think that we’re being followed again, do you?”

  “Who knows? That creep Soranzo had his spy follow us all the way from Braeside to London and we didn’t notice.” Blaise frowned. “Boy, was I stupid. I let Soranzo lure us into the year 1752 so he could kidnap us and try to make us tell him Fausto Corvo’s secrets.”

  “But that’s all over now. Soranzo can’t mess with us again. He’s stuck back in his own century,” she said. “When we left Starling House, that painted door was closed and there was no way he could open it again.”

  “I know. But the guy in the hoodie could be one of his pals.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Another slimeball who wants to find Corvo’s lost magical paintings.”

  Sunni whispered back, “I wish we could just tell the world that we saw Corvo alive inside his painting at Blackhope Tower… and that those three paintings were with him. And that no one else can ever steal them because the only way in is shut forever!”

  “Well, we can’t tell anyone,” said Blaise. “We promised Corvo.”

  Sunni remembere
d the sorcerer’s last words to them. You have witnessed the magic of the heavens, a miracle few have ever seen. That I have allowed you to see it means that we have a bind of trust. You are privy to my work and must help protect it. She, Blaise and Dean were the only people, other than those still inside The Mariner’s Return to Arcadia, who knew that Corvo had harnessed the power of the planets and stars to bring his drawings and paintings to life. And they knew that he had hidden all his secrets under the surfaces of the three most magical paintings he had ever created, making them precious to Soranzo. This greedy man would do anything to possess paintings he could slip in and out of whenever he wished – and where he could learn the secret of immortality.

  “And we haven’t told anyone,” Sunni said, remembering how Soranzo had nearly killed them for defying him. “But he might not be the only one who thinks he can force us to say where the three paintings are.”

  “That’s why we still have to be on guard.”

  “I really hope you’re just imagining things,” she said. “About the hoodie guy outside.”

  Blaise tapped his pencil against his sketchbook. “Me too. But it’s not the first time I’ve seen someone hanging around.”

  A shiver ran down her neck. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s happened a few times recently. He always vanishes before I get a look at his face,” Blaise said.

  “Don’t go all spooky on me just as it’s getting dark outside,” Sunni said.

  “I’m not trying to freak you out! I’m just telling you so you know what’s going on.”

  “Great. I’ll keep my eyes open for dodgy hoodies.” Sunni sighed, glancing at the wall clock. “I’d better go home or Rhona will be on my case. Are you coming?”

  “My dad’s supposed to pick me up here in a while.” He glanced at the café windows again. “But I can walk you home.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll be fine on my own.” The last thing she needed was for Rhona to see her with Blaise.

  “Be careful.”

  Sunni pulled on her jacket. “Blaise, I only live two minutes away. I think I can manage.”

  “Okay, then don’t be careful!” he said. “Sheesh.”

  Sunni bit her lip. “Bye. Guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “Yeah. Have fun tonight. And happy Halloween.”

  “Thanks. Happy Halloween, Blaise.”

  As Sunni reluctantly left the Wee Cuppa she turned round to wave but he was bent over his sketchbook, lost in his own thoughts.

  Blaise angrily rubbed out the sketch he was working on. I can’t do anything right today, he thought.

  He looked up at the café windows, but Sunni was long gone. She’d be home with her sniffy stepmum, Rhona, just where that lady wanted her – safely out of Blaise’s company. He was pretty sure that Rhona blamed him for their London escapade by the cold way she’d acted towards him and his father when they arrived home with Sunni and her dad. No matter how many times she insisted she was still grounded, he knew Sunni was trying to spare him the truth.

  He thrummed his pencil hard against the sketchpad. Everything was screwed up now. They had to sneak around like being together was wrong. And the worst thing was, he’d completely lost his nerve about kissing her. He knew he still liked her as much as ever, but did she like him in that way? He couldn’t tell.

  “Where’s your girlfriend?” A sneering boy scraped Sunni’s chair along the floor. “Gone off to fairyland again?”

  Three boys surrounded the table.

  “Naw, she’s flown away on her broomstick,” answered another.

  The first boy squinted over Blaise’s shoulder. “Draw us a pink unicorn like you saw inside that painting.”

  Blaise looked up briefly. “Give it a rest, Shug.”

  The boys guffawed.

  “Go on,” Shug said. “Draw it.”

  The other boys began a low chant of “Draw it, draw it”.

  Blaise flipped his sketchbook shut and sat up straight. “Get lost.”

  But the chanting went on and heads started to turn in their direction.

  “I said to get lost.” Blaise stood up to his full height.

  The boys feigned being scared and continued to taunt him like grinning monkeys, glancing at the counter to make sure Ellie didn’t notice.

  Stand your ground. Blaise gritted his teeth. Don’t give them anything to use against you.

  Shug knocked Sunni’s empty cup over and hooted.

  All of a sudden, a host of masked figures appeared at the boys’ backs and a female voice cackled, “These numpties will boil up well in my cauldron. Plenty of blubber for us all!”

  The creatures laughed and the boys stopped chanting.

  “What’s wrong, wee man? You’ve got a face like a burst tomato,” said the witch from behind her mask. Shug snorted and elbowed her in the ribs. She rubbed her side and hissed something at him in a low voice.

  The tallest figure, disguised in a furry purple animal head, clamped a hairy paw onto Shug’s neck and said in a deep voice, “Beat it, all of you, or Ellie will ban you for life. And she’s far scarier than us.”

  The boys swore but they stalked to the exit, kicking bags and knocking into people. Shug made an insulting gesture and disappeared into the dusk.

  Blaise looked round at his rescuers. “Um… thanks.”

  The witch pulled her mask off and he recognised Iona, one of Mr Bell’s art students from a couple of years above him. “No bother.”

  The others shed their masks, grinning. They were all older kids whose artwork he’d seen displayed in the school corridors and school exhibitions, but they’d never talked to him before. The tall one in the fur mask turned out to be the impossibly talented James, who everyone said was destined for great things.

  “Eejits. They wouldn’t dare try it on if they weren’t in their little posse for courage,” James said, scratching his chin with a furry claw. “I should have lined this mask with something. It itches like mad.”

  “You made that?” Blaise asked.

  “Yeah. I’m into making masks at the moment,” said James. “Handy for this weekend.”

  “You going, Blaise?” asked Iona, shaking out her shiny copper-coloured hair and tossing a leaflet onto the table. “It’s the Enigma Festival at Blackhope Tower.”

  For a moment he was taken aback that she even knew his name but then realised it must be for the same reason everyone else did – his disappearance last winter at Blackhope Tower. But she had spoken to him in a friendly way, unlike some people at Braeside High School who didn’t believe they’d been pulled inside Fausto Corvo’s painting that day.

  “I heard about it,” he said, eyeing the leaflet. “But I’m not sure.”

  “Because of what happened to you there?” asked Iona.

  “No.” Blaise felt himself going red. “I just don’t like crowds.”

  “I get you,” said Iona, and the others nodded. “But this festival is going to be cool. Mr Bell’s in charge of all the decorations and they look amazing.”

  Blaise knew some Braeside High teachers had volunteered to help with the festival, including his art teacher, Lorimer Bell. “Yeah, he mentioned it during a lesson.”

  “We made a lot of the decorations after school.” Iona nodded at the leaflet. “And James did the artwork on this, too.”

  “It’s excellent,” said Blaise, smiling approvingly at the flying witch on the cover. He glanced at the information inside and was about to hand it back when he read something that made him catch his breath.

  “If the festival gets a lot of visitors they’re going to do one every year,” said James. “Mr Bell says they’ve got some big names to do talks and stuff. There’s even this one guy who’s going to take photos of Blackhope Tower’s ghosts.”

  “Umm,” Blaise murmured, only half listening as he reread the announcement that had just taken him by surprise. “Sounds good.”

  “Oh, it will be,” said one of the girls. “There’s a fancy dress party tom
orrow night.”

  “Uh-huh.” He had to speak to Mr Bell as soon as possible. Apart from Sunni, his art teacher was the only person who would understand.

  “It’s getting late,” said James, stuffing his mask and paws into a backpack. “We’d better head over there now.”

  Blaise looked up and blinked. “Isn’t Blackhope Tower closing soon?”

  “Yes,” said Iona, “but they’ll let us in to help finish decorating. Mr B’s up there already.”

  Blaise handed her the leaflet but she shook her head.

  “Keep it,” she said and joined James, who was already moving towards the exit.

  “Would it be okay for me to come along and have a look?” Blaise asked hastily.

  James threw a glance over his shoulder. “You mean now?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “But if it’s not cool, no problem.”

  Iona shrugged at James and the others. “Why not?”

  Blaise phoned his father as he trailed them out of the café. “Hey, Dad,” he said in a low voice. “You don’t need to pick me up at the Wee Cuppa. I’m doing something with some people from school. No, I’ll get home by myself. Fish and chips would be awesome. I’ll phone you when I’m on my way.”

  The night was sweeping in on a vicious west wind. A dead leaf hit Blaise in the back of the neck and he whirled round, ready to fight. He walked backwards and watched the empty road behind them for signs of someone following. The hedges and drives were black and silent but he imagined the silhouette of a jacket hood could move into view at any moment, skimming past the light of a window like a shark’s fin.

  Chapter 2

  “Hey!” Dean’s hoarse voice called. “Where’ve you been?”

  Sunni backed up two steps and stuck her head into the front room. “None of your business.”

  Her stepbrother was slouched in her dad’s leather chair, eyes glued to a screen, poking and prodding game controls. He swore and continued jabbing.

  Sunni shook her head and carried on walking towards the stairs. With every inch Dean had grown this year, his attitude had increased with it. He was now much taller than she was and never stopped reminding her of it.