Yet he could take no comfort from such a thought if it was true that he’d dispossessed his victims of their souls, of their very ability to experience anything beyond the lives they had led. It was a regret compounded by the knowledge that most of his victims had hardly lived the fullest or richest of lives in the first place.
Will stood up quickly, as if swift movement could help him escape such thoughts, and headed towards the crypt. He had said it to Fairburn and he believed it to be true – he would know if he carried the souls of others within him. If their souls had been imprisoned, if it was not merely another of Wyndham’s tricks, then they had been imprisoned elsewhere, some place beyond his power.
Perhaps they would be released when Will uncovered his destiny, when he found Lorcan Labraid. But that thought too filled him with frustration. A notebook, a meeting with Asmund, riddles and confusions and nothing since. Where was Asmund’s master? Where were the guides? Why could he not hear the call of Lorcan Labraid?
He lifted the stone between the tombs and descended, and when he reached his own chambers, he toured each of the rooms as if returning after a long absence – the pool, the empty chamber with the partly buried casket, the main room with his furniture and chests.
He opened one of the chests and took out Jex’s notebook, then sat back in his chair and turned through the pages, stopping at each garbled line of prophecy. He wanted to understand, but most of all, he wanted to dream, to drift away into some sunlit afternoon as he had helped the old man to do. Only Will’s sunlit afternoon was not in the past, nor in any future he could hope for.
14
Late the next afternoon, once darkness had fallen, Will made his way out of the church, pausing only to listen to the sweet chants of choral evensong being practised by the cathedral choir. No one noticed him and he left unobserved.
He made his way to the taxi rank and smiled when he realised the first car was being driven by the same man who’d brought him into the city the previous night. He looked in the rear-view mirror as Will climbed in and said, “Where to?” His face showed not even a hint of recognition.
“Marland.”
“School?”
“No, the new house.”
The driver started the meter and pulled away even as he said, “You sure? I don’t think there’s anyone there at this time of year.”
“I’m sure, thank you.”
“You’re paying. It’s funny, I was out at Marland last night, picked up … who was it now? One of the teachers, I think, You’re not at the school then?”
“If you don’t mind, I prefer not to talk.”
“Suit yourself.”
They drove away from the lights of the city, the car picking up speed on the open country roads. The driver looked at Will in the mirror occasionally, just as he had the night before. Will looked at the driver too, trying not to think about how many weeks his blood might give him.
Once back at the new house, he went inside to check that nothing had gone amiss during the time he’d been away. Then, thinking forward to the night ahead, he took the sabre from the billiard room and went down to one of the cellars for a torch, conscious that it had served them well in the fight against Asmund and could again.
Even being in the cellars briefly made him grateful that he’d spent the day in his own chambers. The boredom of those cellars would have been a challenge at any time, but with his need for blood dictating his moods, it was a desperate prison. This could not continue, Will knew that – they had to make progress soon or give up.
It was still early, so he put the sword and the torch in the library and sat there for a while, watching the clock tick slowly towards a time when he might expect Eloise to be free. Several times he considered going back into the tunnels without her, but he’d promised her he wouldn’t, and he reasoned that if Wyndham was so keen to harm her, Will probably needed her more than he realised.
When he walked across to the school, she had already sneaked out and was heading towards the spot where he normally waited. She saw him and changed course slightly, walking fast as if she was about to throw her arms round him. Then, checking herself, she slowed and stopped short of reaching him.
For a moment, Will wished she had held him, even though it was always as much trial as pleasure. Instead they stood a little shy of each other, like two people still lacking the courage to say how they really felt.
Will said, “You haven’t been waiting?”
“No, I just got here.”
“Me too. I stayed in my chambers last night.”
She looked confused for a second and he wondered if it was because he’d referred to night when he meant day, but then she said, “In the cathedral? You went into the city?” She sounded suspicious, but looked at him closely and said, “You haven’t fed though.”
“No.”
She looked pleased, as if it had been an act of self-restraint on his part, not an absence of suitable victims. Surely she understood that he would have to kill sooner or later, that they were unlikely to make progress fast enough to avoid it. And yet Will had to admit to himself that he had no way of knowing what they’d encounter tonight beyond the gateway, nor how close they really were to the end of all this.
They needed to press on now, but before walking away, he looked towards the Dangrave House common room. Marcus was there, deep in conversation with a boy and a girl. For once, as if they had reached some sort of understanding, Marcus did not look to the window to meet Will’s gaze.
“I spoke to him last night too.”
Eloise looked at the school building, struggling to see who was in the common room, then saying in disbelief, “Marcus Jenkins?”
“Yes, he was watching us the whole time we were in the maze.”
“So you just had a chat? You didn’t think of putting a stop to him?”
“What would you have me do? Kill him, feed off him, is that it? Do you see his death as a neat solution, an acceptable way to sate my appetites?” He was disappointed in some way, perhaps at the contrast between Eloise’s comment and the boy’s fierce house loyalty the previous evening.
She didn’t answer at first, but she knew that had been the implication. Eventually she said, “No, I didn’t mean it like that, and actually, he seems OK in a weird way. It’s just that he’s working against us, spying on us – you just said so yourself.”
“True, and if I kill him, I’ll rid the school of one spy.” Will put his hands on her shoulders, giving the appearance to any watcher that they were exchanging intimacies. “Don’t look now, but there’s a darkened window on the top floor, the room I checked last night, a storeroom. Someone’s watching us from up there right now. I can feel it, and they’ve been watching every evening that I’ve been here. What’s more, I think it’s the same person who drew the chalk diagrams under your bed.”
“Not Marcus?”
Will shook his head. “No, he’s still in the common room, and he thinks he’s the only person in the school working for Wyndham. Oh, and for what it might be worth, he swore that he would do nothing to harm you.”
Eloise laughed a little and said, “And you believe that?”
“As it happens, I do. Of course, everything he does could harm you indirectly, but Marcus Jenkins was not in your room.”
She nodded, accepting his assurances, then said, “Well who knows, after tonight, it might not matter who’s spying on us.”
“We can but hope.”
They set off across the parkland and Eloise said, “Did you go and see Rachel and Chris while you were in the city?”
“No, it was very late when I arrived. I just needed the solace of spending some time in my own chambers. I’m finding the cellars a trial, particularly now that my hunger has returned.”
“I do think of you, you know, during the day. I think of you pacing around down there, but it must be difficult, never sleeping, day after day on your own.”
“Not since I met you, though that makes the solitude even harde
r to bear, having something to compare it with.”
“But you’ve had companions before, friends?”
Will shook his head. “Fleeting friendships, none quite like yours, though I met people I might have cherished had I been mortal.”
“Girls?”
He thought of poor Kate who he’d seen again so recently, all the life stripped out of her, of Arabella, whom he had certainly loved in his own way.
“Yes, girls. But I’ve had no friendship of any kind for two centuries and more.”
“Unbelievable.”
“But it’s true.”
She laughed and said, “No, I didn’t mean that, I just meant … it’s shocking, I guess, spending year after year, twenty-four hours a day, never sleeping, never having anyone to talk to.” She was sidetracked by that thought and said, “What’s the longest you’ve ever been awake?”
“Between 1501 and … no, there has been one longer. I emerged from hibernation in 1813 and did not return to the earth again until 1911.”
“Nearly a hundred years, that’s unbelievable.”
“But it’s true.”
Eloise realised he was teasing her this time and they both laughed, but she looked at him intently then and said, “When did you start filing your teeth?”
“I don’t remember the year exactly, but many centuries ago. It was a gradual realisation that without them I looked almost normal, and that in turn would allow me to move with less suspicion about the city.” It had not been enough though, Will thought, to prevent Arabella being horrified by the sight of him that night in 1742.
“Interesting. And when you … sorry, I don’t know what’s got into me. Suddenly I’m full of questions again, like I’ve just realised there are hundreds of things I still don’t know about you.”
They had rounded the stand of trees and were walking towards the new house now. Will gestured towards it. “Perhaps you’re asking because of what we’re about to do, because this might be the end of it.”
She held his arm, urgent as she said, “Don’t say that.”
“Eloise, we face dangers, both of us, and the best hope we have of seeing another day is to be prepared, to acknowledge that this might be our last.” Even as he spoke, Will couldn’t accept the possibility of this being Eloise’s last day, much as he was prepared to accept his own fate. “I am about to attempt to open a gateway, at the very least to evil, possibly to the underworld itself, and I would think no less of you if you decided not to come with me on this part of the journey.”
“Are you serious? I mean, thanks for the reality check, and I appreciate there might be bad things down there, but we’re in this together, remember?” She took hold of the broken medallion hanging round her neck and held it out as if to show it to him, a movement so identical to his mother’s that he stared at her in wonder. “What?”
“Nothing.” She looked at him searchingly. “You just reminded me of someone else, that’s all.”
“Who?”
“It hardly matters – she’s dead now.”
“Well, that narrows it down.”
Will laughed, as did Eloise, and they reached the house. They headed directly to the library where they retrieved the sabre and torch and entered the first passageway. Will opened the wall as he had before and stepped inside to the top of the steps. The lights were still on and he was about to explain to Eloise that this was part of Wyndham’s trickery when he was interrupted by the sound of the wall slowly closing again behind them.
He turned and looked at it, and then responded to Eloise’s expression by saying, “I’ve closed it myself each time previously. It didn’t close on its own before.”
She looked at the wall, then down the lit steps to the tunnels below. “Maybe we’re expected.” The first hint of nerves appeared in her eyes, but she smiled through them and held up the torch. “I’ve got this, you’ve got your sword, we’ve got each other, so really, what have we got to worry about?”
“Nothing.”
He looked into the faultless blue of her eyes, as captured by her gaze as other people were by his. There had been other fleeting companions, it was true, but he was full of love for this girl, her beauty and her bravery, above all the sense that in some way they had always been together.
Eloise moved towards him, a little uncertain, and looked about to speak, but stopped. Will could feel her breath hot on his face. He leaned forward, fearing the worst, and kissed her lightly, his lips pressing against the softness of her mouth.
With just that briefest touch, he felt his synapses locking on to the scent of her blood, a brief twinge of pain shooting across the inside of his skull, yet it was worth it because the pain would subside, but the memory of her lips on his would sustain him.
Eloise smiled, an odd mixture of happiness and disbelief, as she said, “You kissed me.” He nodded. “But … didn’t it hurt you to do that?”
He nodded again and laughed and lied, “Not as much. Sometimes I like to think each day I spend with you I become a little more human.”
“You are human, Will.”
“You know what I mean. It almost feels as if, were I to spend long enough in your company, I’d become a sixteen-year-old boy again. That I’d be able to live and breathe and love you as I should. To grow old with you. It’s foolish, I know.”
She looked emotional and was unable to speak for a moment, but smiled and put her fingers on his cheek. Then she took a deep breath and said, “To the underworld then?”
“To the underworld.”
And they started down the steps, not knowing what they would find there. Only one thing was certain, if there was a gateway, Will had to open it, no matter what lay on the other side. There was no turning back on this journey, and if he faced damnation in the hours ahead, he would take one consolation with him – he had kissed her, a simple intimacy, but one which could never be taken from him.
15
The tunnels were empty and they moved quickly. Having explored them thoroughly and then having seen the maze, Will would have been able to walk them with his eyes closed. Perhaps because of her own familiarity with the maze, Eloise was also more confident, anticipating the turns as they got to them.
And then they stopped. They had reached a junction in the labyrinth, passing from an outer circuit to an inner one, and they had turned left, only to be met by a dead end.
Eloise looked mildly puzzled as she said, “Oh, I could have sworn the passage continued this way.”
“It does,” said Will. “Or at least it did. This wall has been moved.”
He put his hands on the stone, his palms and fingers pressing against the inscriptions and paintings that covered every part of the surface. There was nothing to suggest a mechanism inside.
“Will, this whole place looks like it’s been carved out of the rock, so how could a wall be moved?”
He didn’t know. Perhaps the labyrinth looked carved, but had actually been constructed, like a puzzle. His mind raced through the possibilities, all of them coming back to Wyndham.
Wyndham knew from Marcus that they’d been exploring the maze. He’d no doubt realised that they now understood the labyrinth’s true secret. Perhaps he also knew that they were there, with Will alerting him when he opened the wall.
And yet Wyndham was not here! If he would only show himself, Will could confront him, challenge his motives, fight him to the death if need be. But Wyndham refused to appear, and summoned the dead to fight for him, and moved walls with his remote powers, just as he’d probably shut the wall at the top of the steps.
One thing alone was in Will’s favour. Wyndham had the power to intimidate, to cajole and threaten, and he had the power to frustrate, one he used to irritating effect, but he had not yet found a way of destroying Will, and until he did, Will would not be stopped.
Will turned to Eloise. “Trust me, no wall was here before. This is Wyndham’s work, but he’ll have to try harder than this if he’s to stop us. We can still find our way throu
gh the labyrinth – it will just take a little longer.”
“I agree,” said Eloise, still remarkably cheerful. Was it the kiss, he wondered. Could so simple an act have made her as happy as it had made him? He could hardly believe that to be so.
They had tried to turn left and found the way blocked, so they doubled back and turned right. After another four or five turns, they found another wall that should not have been there, as if the entire labyrinth had been rotated about itself, but still they found another route and worked ever closer to the centre.
Yet despite Will’s attempt to brush off the rearranged layout, there was something else troubling him. As they walked, it was as if the walls, the floor and the ceiling were all vibrating at some impossibly low frequency, not even clear enough for him to pick up, but filling the air with energy.
When they finally reached the pentagonal chamber the strange pulsating energy was obvious enough that even Eloise could feel something of it and she stared round the room, trying to locate its source. For a moment, she looked at the bronze relief on the floor and Will didn’t bother to tell her that it wasn’t originating from a single point, that the whole labyrinth seemed to be the source.
She pointed and said, “So the tunnel isn’t dark any more.”
“No, I thought I told you about the lights coming back on.” He took a couple of steps towards the tunnel, but stopped, feeling the vibrations coming up through his feet now, developing into a rumbling. He turned and looked at Eloise.
She said, “It sounds like an earthquake. I was in one once – it sounded like …”
She fell silent as a loud clacking noise approached rapidly, like a row of huge stone dominoes knocking one into the other. It got closer, the floor of the chamber beginning to jump with each percussive thud. Then Will heard a thundering crack and spun round to see that the tunnel to the circular chamber had closed in on itself, the two sides of the tunnel slamming together, a plume of dust filling the chamber, sparks from the severed lighting cables.
Alchemy, Book Two of the Mercian Trilogy Page 9
