We made it back to Marigold’s study, stepping over the corpse of the moustachioed guard, and from behind the door came a strong oily smell.
When we walked in I saw that all the floors and furniture were covered in the witches’ sticky oils. However, the mess was nothing to what I saw next.
Crouching behind Marigold’s work table, swaying in confusion, was Caroline Ardglass.
She jumped up, aghast at the sight of her wounded father, and went to him with clumsy steps. She managed only to caress his cheek, and then dropped to her knees.
I caught her before she hit the floor, and perceived the nasty stench of laudanum still oozing from her hair.
I stammered. ‘If she is here – then who was burning?’
‘Redfern,’ McGray answered quickly. ‘Oakley here helped me get loose. Then we went to the room where Redfern was “preparing” Caroline, and we used her own laudanum to sedate her.’
‘Didn’t you hear Marigold shouting that Redfern could not be found?’ said Oakley. ‘Under the laudanum bag no one could see her face. You’ll have to carry her,’ she told me, already squeezing herself into the gap behind the fireplace. ‘I gave her some smelling salts, but Redfern always used the stronger stuff.’
Caroline did not resist as I guided her to the fake wall. Oakley extended her hands to receive her on the other side, but I faltered. I did not trust that young woman at all.
‘Make haste,’ McGray said, and once again I had to surrender to fate.
I handed Caroline over, then squeezed myself into the hidden chapel, and turned back to receive Joel’s bleeding body from McGray’s arms.
Nine-Nails was the last one to come through. With his gloved hand he picked up a handful of red-hot ashes and threw them on to the oil. I caught a fleeting glimpse of bursting flames, just before he pulled shut the stone door and sealed it. There was a moment of darkness but then Oakley lit a candle stub.
‘Quickly,’ she said. ‘This won’t burn for long.’
We heard muffled screams behind the thick stone walls, but they faded away as soon as we descended into the long tunnel.
‘You played your cards well,’ I said to Oakley, recalling Joel’s words, ‘never letting them know about this passage.’
She grunted. ‘My mother always told me that witches never forgive. If things ever went wrong, this truly was her only way out.’
I followed the waning flame of her candle as we rushed along. Caroline managed the first few yards, but after that I had to carry her.
‘How is he?’ Caroline asked. Despite my most gentlemanly efforts I had to hold her close to me in that narrow tunnel, and could not help feeling her pounding heartbeat against my own chest.
‘Holding on, lass,’ McGray replied, and I heard Joel’s troubled breathing. ‘Barely.’
Oakley dropped the tiny candle, but as the fire died out I saw the faintest of gleams bouncing off the stones. We had reached the end of the passage, and the earliest light of dawn was trickling through. I could not remember ever feeling so relieved by the simple sight of daylight.
The relief did not last long. After Oakley climbed the stone steps, the light showed us Joel’s clothes, his shirt soaked in red. Caroline gasped and again, all decorum aside, I had to bring a hand to her head and gently make her look away. It was unfortunate that McGray and Joel ascended first, for Caroline had a full view of the trail of her father’s blood.
We emerged by the stone wall. My memory of being there as Joel opened the passage was as blurry as if it had happened days ago.
McGray laid him on the ground, resting the poor man’s back against the trunk of a thick oak.
‘We cannot stop now, we are still too close,’ I muttered, looking back at Cobden Hall. The bonfire was still roaring, throwing a column of black smoke towards the indigo skies. There was also smoke coming from broken windows. We were still so near I could perfectly see the silhouettes of witches and men running about.
However, nobody was listening.
Caroline pulled herself free and dropped to her knees. Of all the horrors she’d witnessed, the maimed body of her father must be by far the worst. She took one of his long hands and kissed it, heedless of the dirt and the blood.
Joel took in painful, whistling breaths. ‘My poor creature,’ he began with tremendous effort. ‘You must love me so much.’
She fell apart, pressing his hand against her cheek and sobbing as she felt it go colder.
I felt so sorry for her, but part of me could never forget that he was a murderer. He had poisoned and tortured. He had dragged us all into that mad quest, and we were not safe yet.
‘I did everything for you,’ he said. ‘I tried to get rid of them before they reached you and made your life miserable.’
‘You should have told me,’ she sobbed. ‘We could have gone away. I would have taken you anywhere.’
‘Don’t ever think what could have –’
He coughed and spat blood; I could tell that one of the bullets had hit his lungs. Every breath seemed an agony, but to my surprise he raised his eyes to McGray, and then said the same words he’d uttered back in Edinburgh.
‘You’d do anything for her, would you not? Your sister. If you could have her back, you’d do anything.’
McGray was just as astonished. ‘Aye.’
‘So you understand me.’
‘Cannae condone what you’ve done, but aye, I see why you went this far.’
He was touching the stump of his missing finger, mortified. How much of himself could he be seeing in Joel? Did he now fear that he might become something like him? Perhaps he already had and I myself was too blind to see it.
Joel had another fit of coughing. Caroline produced a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his mouth.
‘Amy …’ he began. ‘She told me …’
There was more coughing. None of us could tell whether he’d manage to utter the next word, and McGray was holding his breath.
All his searching, all his anguish, all these years looking at Pansy, longing for a word, for answers … It all came down to this moment.
I shall never forget the look on his face, distorted by all those emotions rushing in as he stood there, powerless, hanging on the next word of the dying Joel Ardglass.
Joel inhaled most painfully. We all thought that was the end of him, but he managed to whisper: ‘She told me – don’t do it.’
McGray frowned deeply, as if he’d heard the most unbelievable lie.
‘In a rant,’ Joel added, ‘I told her what I was up to … I told her about the witches, about Marigold, about everything. And she said – don’t do it. Wonderful girl. She tried to warn you too.’
Tears pooled in McGray’s eyes. He pulled at his hair in frustration, surely a million questions rushing to his head. And no time left to ask them.
‘Will she speak again?’ he said. A pointless question, but that was all he managed to say.
Joel smiled. ‘She’ll be fine. I left her some charms … to protect her.’
A lonely tear ran down McGray’s cheek, but his voice did not falter. ‘What d’ye mean? Was it a witch that turned Pansy insane?’
But Joel did not reply. He gulped painfully and looked back at Caroline. ‘You’re so beautiful too … My beautiful gir–’
His voice failed then. He could not even cough any more.
‘Stay with me,’ Caroline implored. She squeezed his hand, as if desperately trying to keep him in this world, but he could not be helped. ‘Stay with me for ever.’
Joel looked up, at the dim stars still visible in the dawning sky, and for a brief moment there was peace in his eyes. That blissful expression settled on his face, then the spark faded, and he never moved again.
41
Poor Caroline did not have a moment to grieve.
Out of respect I let her close Joel’s eyelids, but we could not spend another minute there. Right away I pulled her upwards, easily. It was as though she’d lost all her will; the only trace of s
pirit was her hand, still clenched around her father’s. She did not let go even when McGray lifted Joel’s lifeless body; she held the pale, icy fingers as she trotted to keep up with Nine-Nails’ strides.
We all followed Oakley, who made her winding way north, taking us through the wilderness rather than along the roads. The sky was lightening unnervingly fast, and with each step we took I expected to see or hear the witches’ men, coming to get us – and make us pay for Marigold’s life. Would they already know it was Redfern they’d burned? That it was not Nine-Nails lying dead in the courtyard? We could not possibly tell. Yet.
‘Where are ye taking us?’ McGray asked.
‘If Lord Ardglass kept his word, there should be help on the way.’
‘Help?’ I repeated.
‘Yes. We had a plan.’
‘Pray explain.’
Oakley did not slow down as she spoke. ‘You two surely remember that night, the night Lord Ardglass lured Redfern and me to that fire on Winfold Fell …’
‘Course we remember,’ said McGray, and Oakley shuddered.
‘Lord Ardglass dragged me away and was ready to kill me. He nearly made me swallow a nasty strychnine pill … I begged for mercy, told him I had a daughter to look after … and he made me an offer.’
‘An offer?’ I echoed.
‘Yes. He asked me to get the witches off his daughter’s track. In exchange he would pretend to kidnap my child – and my best friend’s – from the Slaidburn inn. Lord Ardglass would make it look as if he’d taken them as part of his revenge. He’d give his name, make it clear it had been him. We also left my apron in the open, stained with raven’s blood, so that you two’ – she looked at McGray and me – ‘would think me dead and stop following me. Then I was supposed to go to Cobden Hall, and tell Redfern and Marigold some makeshift story to take their attention away from Miss Ardglass. Lord Ardglass would eventually give me the girls, and we’d stage my death and then I’d be free! I could escape with them and go wherever I wanted. It was a good plan. He kept his word and did his part, taking the children just before Miss Ardglass arrived in Slaidburn. I was going to do my part too, I swear! I went to Mrs Marigold, but she was furious and didn’t let me speak! Redfern had told her all about my notes left in the open. They said they’d do horrible things to me and my child. Before I could explain, somebody else came in to say they’d found the trail of Miss Ardglass …’ her voice faltered, ‘so they locked me up and went after her. And I feared the worst! I feared Lord Ardglass would think I had betrayed him, and then – well, you saw what he did to my dear friend Elizabeth …’
Caroline staggered. She dropped Joel’s hand and I thought she would hurl herself at Oakley, but the poor girl was utterly drained, body and soul.
Oakley glared at her. ‘I feared the absolute worst. No – I was almost certain. I could see Lord Ardglass in my head, thinking I’d failed him, doing the worst things to our little girls. But then some of our sister witches saw this beacon by the edge of Pendle Hill. The same beacon Lord Ardglass had agreed to light up when the children were safe with the exiled witch.’
‘Nettle,’ McGray said, and Oakley nodded.
‘Yes, some people call her that. I could not be sure Lord Ardglass had gone on with our scheme; however, as long as there was hope, even a fool’s hope, that the girls were alive, I had to do what I could. That is why I decided to help Mr McGray free himself from the guards’ grip.’
‘Fire bottle,’ he added.
‘Then he asked me to take him to Miss Ardglass. I knew Redfern would be in the small parlour where they prepare people for the pyre – rubbing them with oils so they burn faster. I took a bottle of Redfern’s own laudanum and threw it at her. There was only one guard …’
‘A piece o’ cake to knock down,’ McGray added with a note of pride. ‘We had an unconscious brute and an unconscious witch in front of us, so I immediately thought of swapping us all.’
I looked at the plain trousers he had put on at the inn. ‘Do you realize that not wearing tartan just saved all our lives?’
He looked at them dejectedly. ‘Aye, I’ll let ye have that this once.’
Oakley continued. ‘As Mr McGray swapped coats I ran to Mrs Marigold’s study to fetch the poisonous frog.’ She nodded at me. ‘I believe you saw me going back there.’
‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘I did.’
‘Then Mr McGray took Redfern’s body to the fire, with her face covered, while I took the real Miss Ardglass back to the passage, and then used the unconscious guard to create a distraction. I nearly tore my arms off dragging him to the roof, where I shot Mr McGray’s gun before throwing the body to the ground. That allowed the real Mr McGray to fasten Redfern to the stake without people paying too much attention to him.’
‘Then I planned to find my way to Marigold and touch her with the wee frog,’ said McGray. ‘She probably would’ve suspected something, but Joel’s shooting gave me the perfect excuse; I pretended to be protecting that auld hag. I’m only sorry I couldnae get to him sooner.’
‘I told Lord Ardglass to stay where he was,’ Oakley said, ‘but he didn’t listen.’
McGray looked at the lifeless body he was carrying. ‘He thought his lass was dying.’
‘However,’ Oakley went on, ‘he reminded me of our agreement. He mentioned it before running out to his death. That’s why I think Nettle will meet us here. Lord Ardglass must have thought the same as me: do my part of the deal and hope the other one does as well.’ She brought a shaky hand to her chest, her eyes now flickering all about the woodland. ‘She should be around here … or not too far, good Nettle. I’m so happy she lives so close to Slaidburn. No hands could be tenderer.’
‘We are several miles from her hut,’ I remarked. ‘It is not an easy distance for a woman her age, let alone carrying two children along.’
‘She’ll be here,’ said Oakley, but with a hint of desperation in her eyes, as though trying to convince herself more than anybody else.
We all looked around anxiously, all except for Caroline, who took Joel’s hand again and rubbed it gently, as if trying to keep it warm.
The sound of a cracking twig came from the distance, loud in the quiet morning. It could have been anything, or anyone, but none of us dared say a word.
McGray held his breath, taking a small step back. I followed his gaze and saw the black coat of a rather big cat. I touched the butt of my gun, ready to take the animal down, but as it approached its features became familiar.
‘That’s Nettle’s cat,’ said McGray.
Oakley assented, her face glistening with hope. She ran to the cat, kneeled down and took it in her arms. By then we could already hear the footsteps of a dozen feet.
‘She’s not alone,’ I gasped, fearing Nettle would arrive with an army of tall men behind her.
Her hunched, stumpy figure did appear, blurry at first in the morning haze, and a tall man to her right. To her left, however, came two shorter female figures.
Caroline looked up and opened her mouth, but struggled to make a sound. She finally let out a deep cry: ‘Bertha!’ and she ran to the silhouettes with her arms wide open. ‘I thought they’d burned you!’
I first saw the haggard face of Mrs Greenwood, but then I recognized Bertha, receiving Caroline into a tight embrace, her elderly voice sweet and welcoming.
‘Dear child, they didn’t. Only nearly. They shot poor Mr Greenwood, but Jed took his wife and me out of there just in time.’
The cat jumped out of Oakley’s arms and she rose, just as Nettle came up, carrying a little bundle of blankets.
‘Primrose! My girl!’ Oakley burst into tears of joy, taking the baby with motherly tenderness.
McGray’s face showed the merest hint of a smile. ‘Good to see ye, hen,’ he told Nettle, and the elderly woman squeezed his arm affectionately.
Then Bertha saw Joel’s body, and her reaction was second only to Caroline’s, whom she embraced more tightly.
‘Oh, my dear, I a
m so, so sorry.’
Caroline buried her face in Bertha’s shoulder, and at last allowed herself to cry. She let out a torrent of tears she had surely been repressing all this time.
They were all so emotional I was the only one left to think of the practicalities.
‘We need to move on,’ I told Jed. ‘How did you come here? Do you have transport?’
‘Aye, boss. We took a cart. I think the same one youse two stole before.’
‘Yes, that’s the one,’ said Mrs Greenwood, carrying a sleepy five-year-old with pink ribbons carefully braided into her dark hair. Daisy. The little girl already bore an uncanny resemblance to the late Elizabeth Greenwood, but her wide blue eyes suggested she might grow up to be even more beautiful.
Perhaps I’d been too miserable for far too long, but the sight of that innocent child, her entire life still ahead of her, full of possibilities, filled my heart with inexplicable warmth.
‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Take us there. The further and sooner we go, the better.’
We started off, but Oakley, Nettle and Mrs Greenwood lagged behind.
‘What are you waiting for?’ I asked, all impatience.
‘We stay here,’ said Oakley, and Nettle nodded fervently.
‘Excuse me?’
‘We have a place to go. A fresh start for us all.’
I was about to protest, but McGray spoke to me in a manner that admitted no objections.
‘Let them go, Frey.’ And then concluded: ‘This is not our jurisdiction. Don’t ye keep saying that?’
With no arguments – or support, or even energy – I obliged.
We marched on through the woods, a very sad parade led by Jed and McGray, sharing the load of Joel’s body, followed by Caroline and Bertha, and then me. Ian Frey: always alone.
I turned back once, but Mrs Greenwood and the former witches were already gone; they had vanished, as if they had never existed. The only trace they left behind was the black cat, seated proudly on a tree stump, its watchful eyes making sure we went away.
Epilogue
Oakley’s garden was lit by the dancing flames of a small bonfire, surrounded by nothing but slush and upturned soil. The plants had been dug over mercilessly: no bulb, root or stem had been forgiven, and they’d all been piled in the centre of the patch.
A Fever of the Blood Page 32
