by Janet Fox
At once he heard it, painfully. A throbbing hum came from whatever she held in her hand.
“What are you doing?” he cried. “Please, stop.”
She paused and opened her fist. “I’m spell-casting. Strengthening the wards.”
On her palm was a small object that glinted silver. It was the source of the hum, and he could barely stand it. “Please,” he begged. “Please, put it away.”
She did, placing the object in her pocket, but she stared at him, perplexed. “But I need to make sure we’re protected.”
“It is only,” he said, “that I seem to be sensitive to magic. And that thing of yours is really powerful.” He rubbed his forehead, then pressed his hand to his chest where the pendant lay cold and vibrating against his heart.
Kat put her index finger against her lips. “Interesting,” she whispered. Then she said, “We should tell Gumble. She’s really good at helping us refine our gifts. She’ll help you with yours.”
“That would be good,” Isaac said with energy.
Then Kat looked past him and her eyes widened. “Well, will you look at that. My warding spell worked better than ever this time.”
Isaac turned around and blinked. How had that happened so fast? The meadow stretched all around the castle, the trees had retreated to the forest, and the vines that had hung over the garden wall were gone. “Wow. That is amazing. Like Macbeth,” Isaac said. “You know, where Birnam Wood . . .”
“Comes to Dunsinane,” Kat finished. “Which was a warning that something bad was about to happen. Yes. I know quite a bit about that story. You’ve read it, then?”
“Of course.” He added, “My parents wanted to be certain I knew English.”
They stared out over the misty and silent landscape.
“That mouse,” Isaac said, turning. “It reminded you of something.”
“Long story,” said Kat, sounding officious. “Right now I want to get properly dressed.”
* * *
* * *
It was nice to be able to clean up with soap and hot water and put on the warm school-uniform clothes Isaac found in his dresser. Breakfast was another matter. It seemed to be pancakes, but with little wiggling edges.
“It is . . . moving,” Isaac whispered to Amelie.
She giggled and passed him a bowl. “Porridge?”
Fortunately, it was porridge. Or it tasted like porridge. Isaac didn’t want to know more.
Colin came running into the dining hall, a bit breathless, dogs on his heels. “Leo’s back,” he said. “With someone strange.”
Isaac and Amelie exchanged a glance, and Amelie shrugged. “They’re all strange,” she said. “They’re MI-Six. And we’re kids. Doing magic. Which they like but don’t really understand, even when they pretend to. But they’re usually pleasant enough and let us get on about our business. Let’s go see what’s up.”
Everyone else had already assembled in the front hallway. Leo acted deferential to the newcomer, holding his luggage and coat.
“Ralph Baines,” the man said. His hands and face were scratched, and dirt spattered his pressed uniform. “Your grounds are thick with brambles. Quite a sorry mess. Almost wondered if I wouldn’t get through. But I’m a persistent chap.” He gave a short laugh. “Mr. Falstone, here, found me before I became too entangled.”
Leo squirmed a bit. “The forest is acting odd,” he said with a shrug.
“Yes, so we’ve noticed,” murmured Kat.
Baines went for his valise and pulled out some papers, handing them to MacLarren. “Things are hectic at the home office at the moment. But this should answer your questions.”
MacLarren looked up and said, “I thought this was an inspection. Not certain I understand what this means.” He handed the papers to Gumble.
She glanced through them and then said, “What’s this? They want us to return to London?”
“Immediately,” Baines said. “On the next train.”
“Impossible,” said MacLarren, folding his arms across his large chest.
“I shall remain here. The children will be perfectly safe with me.”
“B-but,” Gumble sputtered, “we are in the midst of difficult mentoring. And we’ve made a number of important discoveries for the effort. Why, just a week ago a seabird brought news about an enemy landing to Mr. Drake, and that gave Miss Bateson the chance to draw down a fogging spell to thwart it. As you must know.”
Baines lifted one eyebrow. “Fog on the coast. Pretty regular, I imagine. Yes, I’m sure you’re onto something,” he said, not sounding sure at all. “The home office needs to update you two on some of the latest intelligence, so they require you there for at least a week.” He checked his pocket watch. “I believe the next train leaves in an hour.” He glanced between the two teachers. “Well?”
MacLarren’s mouth dropped open, and Gumble’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“Now, see here—” Kat began, her hands on her hips.
“I am in charge, missy, and I caution you against any childish interruptions,” Baines said to her. He turned to Leo. “Please show me to a place where I might wash up. That forest, you know.”
Leo raised his eyebrows at the others as he led Baines away.
Kat followed Gumble up to her rooms, the two whispering as they left. Ame, Isaac, and Colin waited in the hall and exchanged confused looks and awkward comments. “Goodness.” “I can’t imagine.” “Has this happened before?” “Nothing like.” “What do we do?”
Ten minutes later, Baines and the five children stood in the hallway of Rookskill Castle as their teachers, small suitcases in hand, bid reluctant goodbyes.
Gumble turned to Kat. “You’ll know what to do, Miss Bateson. We can make our own way through the, well, the protections. The castle will be in your capable hands.” She glared at Baines. Then she and MacLarren stepped out into the cold, damp mist, which seemed to have grown mistier, damper, and a little darker, and Baines slammed the great door in their wake.
He turned and surveyed the children with a stern expression. “A terribly small group of children. Not much of a school, is it? Costly endeavor. Well. Why don’t we start by having each of you demonstrate your, ahem, magic?”
As the children exchanged glances, Baines’s expression changed and he launched into a barking laugh.
His laughter echoed through the castle, up and down and around. The echo went on for so long that it was as if the castle had joined right in.
CHAPTER 20
Isaac
1942
The children exchanged glances again. Amelie said under her breath, “I think he’s daft.”
Baines broke off abruptly and glared at each of them in turn. “Well?”
“You want us to demonstrate our . . . magic?” Kat asked. She sounded as if she could hardly wait to get started.
Baines tugged at his cuffs. “Let’s get this nonsense over with.”
Colin whispered to Canut. The dog lowered his head and bared his teeth at Baines, a rumble in his throat.
Baines took a step back. “Remove this menacing creature at once! Outside. All these animals outside, now.”
Colin’s dogs encircled him protectively. Several began to whine. Canut growled. “What?” Colin said. “No. They stay with me.”
“Out,” Baines cried, brandishing a short crop he yanked from his belt. Isaac remembered with a sick feeling the crops wielded by Nazi soldiers in Prague, and he shrank away.
Colin whistled, turned, and ran for the stairs, all the dogs following at his heels.
“I’ll find you later,” Baines called, flicking the crop, and Isaac flinched.
Amelie muttered under her breath. Willow appeared with a pop, directly in front of Baines. They began to make rude noises at the man, and Isaac suppressed a snort. But Baines glared after Colin and the dogs, looking
straight through the wight.
“He doesn’t see Willow,” Amelie whispered. “He doesn’t even see them there, right before him.”
Willow hung upside down, bobbing like a cork, but Baines registered no notice at all. Willow made a loud pfft, and lifted up to the ceiling, muttering.
“How disturbing,” murmured Kat.
Leo cleared his throat. “I can predict the future, and I have visions of what’s happening in other places.”
Baines stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s my gift,” Leo said. He closed his eyes, his face scrunching in concentration. “A great storm is coming,” he whispered. “A storm to end all storms.”
Isaac shivered. A storm to end all storms?
Baines snorted. “I should think that’s an easy prediction to make. A storm in these northern climes in winter?”
Leo opened his eyes wide. “No. This storm is different.”
“Really. You should try some other act,” Baines said.
“It’s coming,” Leo said, plaintive. Isaac exchanged a supportive glance with Leo, who gave him a little awkward smile back.
“What about you?” Baines said, pointing his crop at Isaac. “You don’t have anything to say?”
Isaac shrank away, shaking his head. The pendant against his chest began to vibrate with a low hum. He pressed his hand to it, trying to quiet it. “I do not . . .” he began.
At that moment Kat, her hand in her pocket, her voice low and commanding, said out of the blue, “Haud yer wheesht!”
Baines’s eyes went blank. Then he stuck out his tongue and reached up and took it between his thumb and forefinger.
Amelie and Willow both burst out laughing. Leo said, “Golly!”
Isaac turned to Kat, the hum still filling his head, not sure whether to laugh or be shocked. “What did you do?” he asked.
Kat made a face. “He’s bloody ridiculous, so I just wanted to see him that way.” Then she said soberly, “All right. That’s enough of that.”
Baines blinked and dropped his hand. “Where was I?” His eyes narrowed, and he went on. “Right. It’s quite clear that this is all a great hoax. Waste of resources. There’s no such nonsense as magic. I’ll recommend commandeering this castle for our forces. We need another military outpost in Scotland. You children will be sent home and back to regular school at once, as soon as I’ve completed my paperwork.” He pointed at the small parlor that stood off the front hall. “I shall set myself up in there. Mr. Falstone, you will assist me. Falstone.” He paused. “Is your father perhaps Bernard Falstone, with the home office?”
Leo nodded miserably.
“Well, well.” Baines smiled at Leo, suddenly warm, all teeth. “Terribly sorry about the comment about your . . . prediction. A storm could very well be on its way. I’m certain your father will be happy to see you home and away from this nonsense.”
Leo smiled faintly, clearly not happy about the prospect of returning home himself.
Baines moved away, Leo trailing. Kat turned to Amelie and Isaac and said, “He doesn’t believe in magic? What is going on at MI-Six?” She grimaced. “If only Papa wasn’t away on one of his missions.” She looked at Isaac. “Our father is with MI-Six, and he understands what we’re doing here. He’d take care of this.” She went on, “This silly Baines could seriously damage our mission, and we can’t let him.”
“What do we do?” Amelie asked.
“I’m going to check on Colin,” Kat said. “And then we can decide our next move. Meet me in the small library in ten minutes.”
* * *
* * *
The hum in Isaac’s head faded as Amelie led the way down the hall. If only he understood and could use his gift, whatever it really was . . .
Willow popped into view overhead. “That was insulting.” They floated alongside Amelie and Isaac. “Even though it happens all the time.”
“What do you mean?” Isaac asked.
“When people don’t believe, they don’t see. The truth can be square in front of their eyes, but they simply don’t see.”
Amelie said, “I was hoping you’d scare the living daylights out of him.”
Isaac said, “What was it that Kat said, you know, when she made Baines . . .”
Amelie giggled. “She said, ‘Hold your tongue.’ Clever, that spell, don’t you think? Double meaning. She’s getting better and better at spell-casting.”
When Amelie opened the door to the small library, Isaac had to stop to take it all in. It was like his own personal dream come true.
The room, not very large, was filled with books. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stuffed with books. Books on tables, in stacks, books on the floor, piled almost as high as Isaac was tall, books open on stands. Isaac moved slowly, letting his hand stray over the leather covers, turning the spines so he could read the titles.
“I know. I love it here, too, although it would take me a thousand years to read them all,” Amelie said, standing next to him, her head tilted as she surveyed the room. “Do you have any favorites?”
He nodded. “Frankenstein. By Mary Shelley. Do you know it? It has helped me with my English, but I like it for more than that.”
She shook her head. “Heard of it but haven’t read it yet.”
Isaac, relishing telling about his favorite book, said, “Victor Frankenstein, who wishes to be a scientist, plays with the idea of creating life. Of course, that is treading in something dangerous—how do you say it—sacrilegious, and he ends up making a monster, who haunts his every step and destroys everything and everyone Victor loves.”
“How sad,” Amelie said. She was silent for a moment. “Then you understand about monsters.”
“Only in books,” Isaac said.
Willow dropped down and floated right in front of Isaac, so close to his face that Isaac had to take a step back. “We may all be monsters under the skin,” Willow said, their voice a slimy whisper.
Isaac swallowed. “What?” he whispered back.
Willow floated away. “It’s a saying we particularly like. Speaking of books.” They paused. “We, for one, don’t have any skin.”
Amelie said, “Kat saved everyone in Rookskill from a monster who was using a magical artifact.”
“What does this mean, a magical artifact?” Isaac asked.
“An artifact is an old object, of any kind,” Amelie said. “Jewelry. A sword. A mirror. A potion. But a magical artifact is infused with power. Some of the stuff of legends, like, you know, Excalibur. Or Aladdin’s lamp with the genie inside or the Chinese emperor’s nightingale. Other objects may have magic but no stories about them. Yet.” She paused. “A magical artifact can be just about anything.”
“Wait,” Isaac said. His mind was spinning. The casket and its contents. “Anything?”
Amelie nodded. “In the case of Kat, her artifact is a piece of jewelry called a chatelaine. The monster she used it on wanted to enchant all of us who were here then.” She stared away, at the gray mist outside. Then she said, “Kat didn’t believe in magic back then, at first, but thank goodness she found her gift before it was too late. It was a scary time,” Amelie ended in a whisper.
Isaac said, “That object she carries in her pocket, yes?” That powerful silvery object Kat carried that made Isaac’s head hum. “What happened to you?”
“It’s hard to explain,” Amelie said slowly. “The monster tried to enchant us children. There were a bunch of us here then, and it wanted to . . . It tried to steal our souls.”
“What!” Isaac couldn’t believe it.
Ame nodded. “It was such an awful feeling. Like being ripped into shreds. I was awake, but I wasn’t. It hurt horribly but it was also so, so sad. If it hadn’t been for Kat . . .” Ame set her lips in a thin line and shook her head.
Willow floated down in front of
Amelie. “Want us to make some goofy faces to cheer you up?”
“What happened to the monster?” Isaac asked.
“Mostly it’s at the bottom of the well,” she said. “In bits and pieces. Good and gone.”
Mostly, Isaac thought.
“That’s right,” said Willow, and they contorted into the shape of a puffy cloud before making a distinctive noise that made Isaac want to hold his nose. “Good. And. Gone. In pieces.”
Isaac, gazing up at the wight, found his eye straying to the library’s ceiling that was decorated with designs. Colorful and intricate, they reminded him a little of the cathedral windows at home. Except that these were more elaborate natural images of trailing vines and peculiar fruits.
Isaac squinted and stood to see better.
The jumble of vines converged at four points, and at each convergence was a particular design. One that Isaac knew. He pressed his hand against his chest, the pendant cold against his skin, and that distant throb rose again in his brain, like the sea pounding the cliffs or a low, slow heartbeat.
“That,” he said, pointing.
“Oh!” Amelie turned and stared. “Why, isn’t that what you were telling us about last night? The eternity knot?”
He nodded. Monsters. Artifacts. The eternity knot.
It was time to open the casket. To find the next piece of his puzzle.
“I will be right back,” he said, making for the door.
CHAPTER 21
Isaac
1942
Isaac closed the door to his room and pulled his pack from under his bed, sitting cross-legged on the floor with the pack before him. He pulled out the casket, pushed the pack aside, and took a deep breath. At once the throbbing hum flooded his brain.
Slowly, carefully, he opened the casket, its hinges squeaking a little, and he squinted at it with one eye shut, as if that would help.
A moan fled from inside.
The hum grew louder, and the cold press of the pendant burned against his skin, and a moldy smell like age filled the room. Isaac shivered.
