Fire Girl

by Matt Ralphs

  No. My body is crumbling. I’m so tired. I just want to sleep forever.

  ‘There must be something I can do,’ Hazel said miserably.

  You must listen – I have something to tell you.

  ‘What?’

  Your mother – I think I know where she is.

  Hazel’s eyes widened. ‘You do?’

  Murrell told me he and his followers are planning to gather at Rivenpike. It’s a town not far from here.

  ‘Then that’s where I must go.’

  Be careful. He took your mother because he wants to use her magic, although I don’t know why. Murrell will want you too now that he knows you can wield fire. Don’t get drawn into his war – it’ll be the death of you.

  ‘I understand. Thank you, Mary.’ She looked up the stairs. I wonder if David’s been listening. ‘Mary, will you do one more thing for me?’

  Anything.

  ‘The boy I’m travelling with has been poisoned. Can you help him?’

  I can try. Mary put down the pen.

  A few hours later Hazel closed the cabin door, dropped the shovel on the kitchen floor and slumped down in the rocking chair. She stared numbly at her muddy, blistered hands. Mary’s final note lay on the table.

  The boy will live, but he’s half blind and will be in pain for a long time – demon wounds never fully heal. I think I drew out most of the poison, but there may be some left and I don’t know how it will affect him.

  Her final words were a jagged scrawl:

  I am tired of this cold world. Bury me next to Gander. I might find peace there.

  Bramley stroked Hazel’s neck with his cheek, absorbing her sorrow until she fell asleep.

  23

  SECRETS AND LIES

  ‘For a pure conscience, I’ll do no wrong. For a pure soul,

  I’ll pray every day. For a pure England, I’ll burn every witch.’

  Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell

  Hazel awoke to the sound of someone pouring water into a cup. She felt a thin, straw mattress underneath her and a blanket pulled up to her neck. The smell of wood-smoke and leather told her that she was back in the wagon.

  So, she thought, her relief giving way to trepidation, Titus has found us, and I bet David’s told him about me being a witch. Oh, Bram, we’re really in trouble now.

  Where was Bramley? She couldn’t feel him nesting in her hair or fidgeting in her pocket. He was gone. Panic ripped through her, and her first instinct was to leap up and look for him, to scream his name, but she stayed still.

  ‘Ah,’ Titus said. ‘You’re awake.’

  Hazel’s heart fluttered, but she kept her eyes closed.

  ‘See, David, how her breathing sped up and her eyes started moving under the lids? That’s how I know she’s only pretending to sleep and she’s actually listening to every word I’m saying.’

  Realizing she had no choice, Hazel opened her eyes and saw Titus watching her from a chair next to the bed, shirt sleeves rolled up over strong arms. A cloud of smoke drifted from his pipe.

  David sat at the workbench, glaring over his shoulder at her. A clean bandage covered his left eye; the skin around the edge was blotchy. Samson lay by the stove, chewing on a bone.

  ‘Morning, slop-sprite,’ Titus said, holding out a cup. Hazel pushed herself up on her elbows and took it. ‘Seems we all made it through our travails to be reunited again.’

  David snorted and went back to filling cartridges with gunpowder. Hazel took a sip of water and decided it was best to keep quiet until she had a better idea of what the old Witch Finder knew, and more importantly, what he intended to do about it.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask me how I fared against our ambushers?’ he said.

  Hazel nodded, keeping her face calm despite the panic breaking out just beneath the surface. Bram, you silly mouse, where are you?

  ‘Well, our ruse worked,’ Titus continued. ‘Our ambushers didn’t see you escape so they followed me in the wagon. I gave them a bloody nose for their trouble, and they lost interest when they realized you weren’t with me. And here I am, good as my word.’

  ‘I’m glad to see you safe,’ Hazel said.

  ‘You seem ill at ease.’

  Act normally. Just act normally.

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course I am. Who wouldn’t be after what just happened?’

  Titus took a pull on his pipe. ‘David’s been through the wringer too, of course. He told me what happened in the cabin.’

  Hazel saw David’s shoulders stiffen. ‘Oh?’ she said, waiting for the accusation.

  ‘He says you used magic,’ Titus said. ‘Saw you create fire –’ Hazel flinched when he snapped his fingers – ‘from thin air.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, keeping her voice calm. ‘Poor David was raving about it when his fever was at its worst. I’d just lit the fire to keep him warm when he started shouting all sorts of nonsense at me. I thought he’d gone mad.’

  Titus shook his head. ‘As I thought,’ he sighed.

  Does he believe me, or David? Hazel wished she could read his expression.

  ‘I told him that Wielders who control the elements are very rare,’ Titus continued. ‘Especially now. Most died in the Witch War, and the rest are being hunted to extinction by Cromwell and his Witch Hunters.’

  Hazel didn’t move as Titus refilled her cup. Slowly, slowly, she forced herself to relax.

  ‘I know what I saw,’ David muttered.

  Titus waved his hand. ‘Maybe. Maybe not. That spider’s poison was eating at your wits as well as your eye. And let’s not forget, this girl saved your life.’ He tapped his pipe out into a bowl and refilled it from the tobacco jar.

  Hazel sized Titus up from over the rim of her cup. He looked sober. His eyes were bright and he’d even combed his beard and hair. This was not the addled wreck she’d encountered in Watley gaol. This, perhaps, was the legendary Witch Finder David had told her about.

  ‘That man in the forest who attacked us, do you know anything about him?’ Titus asked.

  Hazel shook her head. ‘Only that it was his demon who kidnapped my ma.’

  ‘And why would he do such a thing, I wonder?’ He took a match from his pocket and struck it on the table. A yellow flame flared.

  ‘I’ve already told you. I don’t know. But he said he knew you. Is that true?’

  Titus watched her through a fresh cloud of pipe smoke. ‘Yes, I believe it is. I’m pretty sure he is one Nicolas Murrell. I recognized his voice from under the hood, although I sense he has changed much since I last saw him.’ He took a long pull on his pipe, lost in thought. ‘But then, I’ve changed too, have I not, David?’

  Apprentice glanced at master, face unreadable.

  ‘Were you hunting him?’ Hazel asked.

  ‘That’s a story for another time,’ Titus replied. ‘Suffice to say that Murrell is obsessed with demonic magic – he’s studied that forbidden art for years. I knew him before the war when he worked for the King. The last I heard he’d been captured by Cromwell, but it seems he’s escaped.’

  ‘But what would a man like that want with me?’ Hazel said. Or Ma?

  ‘That, slop-sprite, is a very good question.’

  Doesn’t he ever blink? she thought, struggling to hold his gaze. If I look away, he’ll think I’m acting guiltily. The wagon felt uncomfortably hot. A drop of sweat ran down her neck.

  ‘Well?’ he continued. ‘What would an outlawed demon-worshipper want with you and your mother?’

  Ma always told me that guilty people parry when they’re accused, Hazel thought. But innocent people get angry . . .

  ‘For the last time, I don’t know,’ she snapped. ‘That’s what I employed you and David to find out. So far I don’t feel like I’m getting my money’s worth. Ma’s still missing and you’re wasting time asking me stupid questions you know I can’t answer.’

  ‘Questions are my stock-in-trade, slop-sprite. What about Mary? David said you knew her.’

  Hazel
’s mind whirled. Should she lie about this too? Being connected to a witch like Mary would cast more suspicion on her, yet instinct told her that trying to deceive Titus about it would be a mistake.

  ‘Mary? Yes, I know – knew – her.’

  ‘I thought so. The care with which you buried her and the flowers on the grave confirms that. How did you come to meet her?’

  Hazel took a sip of water, biding her time. She set her cup down on the floor and clasped her hands in her lap. ‘Ma and I knew her only in passing. She was eccentric, but harmless enough.’

  A smile flickered across Titus’s face. ‘Eccentric she may have been, but she was far from harmless. Would it surprise you if I told you that I knew old Mary too?’

  ‘I don’t know anything about Mary’s friends.’ Hazel shrugged, wondering if this was a ploy to trip her up.

  ‘I met her during the course of my duties. You see, Mary was a witch.’

  ‘A witch?’ Hazel said, widening her eyes in feigned surprise. ‘I had no idea.’

  David leaped from his seat. ‘She’s lying. She said this Mary was her friend, and I did see her conjure fire. Why do you believe her and not me?’

  ‘Sit down, boy,’ Titus growled.

  ‘Well, don’t blame me if she kills us both as soon as our backs are turned,’ David muttered.

  Titus leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs. ‘I oversaw a case where Mary was accused of witchcraft. This was long before the Witch War, and I was still a young man – beardless, in fact.’

  Hazel sat up, and even David swivelled in his chair to listen.

  ‘A local farmer called Fawcett had accused Mary of laying a curse on his cattle. He claimed he’d seen her smearing blood on their haunches and chanting at the moon, and two days later all his cows were dying of the black flux.’

  He paused to relight his pipe. ‘Now, this was my first case as a Witch Finder, and I decided to speak to Fawcett first. On the way to his farm I found the dead cows in his pasture, covered in flies and bloating in the sun. Each beast had had a tooth ripped from its mouth – part of a black magic ritual.

  ‘Fawcett was surprised to see me, nervous too – said he’d expected me to have already arrested Mary on his word alone.’ Titus shook his head. ‘But men lie, and I wanted the truth.’

  Hazel watched as Titus stared deep into a distant memory.

  ‘So I took him to Watley gaol and left him in a cell to stew, taking care to leave my bag in there with him.’ He smiled grimly. ‘I watched him through the keyhole. He sweated and shook and couldn’t take his eyes off that bag. “What instruments of torture are in there?” he was thinking. “Thumbscrews? Teeth-pullers? A choke pear? Heretic’s fork?” I waited as he drove himself half mad imagining all the awful things I was going to do to him. And what do you think happened when I opened the door?’

  Hazel shook her head and was surprised to see a wide smile spread across the Witch Finder’s face, crinkling his eyes and making the years fall away.

  ‘Peed himself,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Then he confessed to lying about Mary. He even admitted that he and his wife had pulled the cows’ teeth out to make it look like black magic. Case closed, and all without having to ask a single question.’

  ‘And what was in your bag?’ Hazel asked.

  ‘My lunch. Ham, cheese, an apple. Certainly no torture devices. I never have and never would use such things.’

  He’s lying, Hazel thought. Trying to get me to trust him.

  ‘What about Mary?’ she said, watching for any flicker of untruth in the old man’s eyes.

  ‘I went to see her, just to satisfy my own curiosity. It was obvious that although she had a touch of magic about her, she was not an evildoer. So I left her alone.’

  ‘But why did Fawcett accuse her? What did he hope to gain?’ David asked.

  ‘Fawcett was dirt poor with a family to feed. When his cows got sick he became desperate, so he and his wife devised a plan. In those days, if livestock fell ill due to witchcraft the farmer would receive compensation from the King. But if they got sick through natural causes they’d get nothing.’

  ‘So he accused Mary to claim the King’s compensation?’ Hazel said.

  Titus nodded.

  ‘That’s awful. What happened to him?’

  ‘The rope, as the law demanded.’

  ‘And his wife?’

  Titus looked grim. ‘She escaped before I could arrest her and, mad for revenge, paid a nefarious old witch from Essex to lay a curse on Mary and strike her blind.’

  Poor Mary, Hazel thought.

  ‘I tracked them both down and dealt with them myself,’ Titus said.

  Hazel waited for him to continue, but he said nothing else. Eventually he refocused his eyes and fixed them on her.

  ‘All of which,’ he said, ‘brings us back to you.’

  Here it comes. Judgement, she thought. Whatever happens, I’m not going to let him kill me without a fight.

  ‘No need to worry,’ Titus said. ‘I know a liar when I see one, and I’m satisfied you’re no witch.’

  Surprised but still suspicious, Hazel sat back. Now I just need to find Bramley. Where is he?

  ‘Now we’ve cleared that up, we’ll continue with the job you paid us for,’ Titus said. ‘We’ll go and find your mother.’ David snorted in disgust and went back to refilling musket cartridges. ‘Now think hard – what did Murrell say to you back there in the forest? Did he give you any clue as to where she could be?’

  ‘I have more than a clue,’ Hazel said. ‘I know exactly where they are.’

  ‘You do?’ Titus said. ‘Where?’

  ‘Rivenpike.’

  Titus and David exchanged glances. ‘Rivenpike,’ Titus said. ‘That forsaken place? I should have guessed.’

  ‘People say it’s cursed. No one goes there any more,’ David murmured.

  ‘Why not?’ Hazel asked.

  ‘The King made his last stand against Cromwell at Rivenpike,’ Titus said. ‘When the siege was over, Cromwell sacked the place, and threw the surviving defenders off the cliff. It’s been a ghost town ever since.’ He glanced at David. ‘Get me a drink, would you, boy?’

  ‘We’ve a little coffee left. I’ll boil some more water.’

  ‘A proper drink,’ Titus growled.

  ‘We don’t have anything left. You’ve quaffed it all.’

  ‘All right, put the damn kettle on.’ Titus turned to Hazel. ‘To Rivenpike we go.’

  Hazel swung her legs out of bed and looked around for her boots, impatient to get started.

  ‘Mary had a familiar when I met her,’ Titus said. ‘A beautiful greylag goose. All Wielders have familiars, as I’m sure you know. Geese are common, as are cats, toads, dogs.’

  Hazel straightened up, boots in hand, and fear starting its now customary crawl in her stomach.

  Titus bent down and picked up a glass-sided box from under the table. ‘Dormice too.’

  Hazel stopped breathing. Trapped in the box with a face stricken with terror was Bramley.

  24

  THE SYPHON

  ‘For his services to the advancement of science and

  invention I present Witch Finder Captain Titus White

  with this master-crafted wrist-mounted pistol.’

  Simon Winters, Grand Master of the College of Witch Finders

  ‘So you knew I was a witch all along?’ Hazel fumed as David tied her to a chair.

  Titus towered over her. ‘Of course. Why else would a man like Murrell be interested in you? And despite my apprentice’s various faults, I trust his word. I’m surprised you thought you could convince me otherwise.’ He appraised her like a man deciding if a horse was worth his hard-earned money. ‘Perhaps you’re not as bright as I thought.’

  Bright? I’m the stupidest girl who ever lived. Why did I ever think I could fool him?

  David gave his knots an experimental yank.

  ‘Ow!’ she yelped, kicking out at him.

  �
�Better tie her ankles too,’ Titus said.

  ‘Why bother? Why not just kill me now? That’s your job, isn’t it, Witch Finder?’ she said as David lashed her feet to the chair legs.

  ‘Don’t presume you know me, girl,’ Titus said. ‘I’m letting you live. Although if you test my patience much further I might change my mind.’

  ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘For now, I want you to be quiet and let me and the boy get on with our job.’

  ‘To hunt my ma? Well, I won’t let you. I’ll—’

  ‘Quiet,’ Titus snapped. ‘It’s not her I want.’ He sat down at the table, fists clenched. ‘It’s Murrell I’m after. David, bring me the map of Wychwood. We need to work out a route to Rivenpike.’

  ‘Look,’ Hazel said, ‘if it’s Murrell you want, let me help you.’

  ‘We don’t need help,’ Titus said. He weighed down the map with books and then conferred quietly with David. Bramley stared helplessly at Hazel from his glass-fronted cage.

  She craned her neck and noticed that a direct path to Rivenpike through the forest was shorter than the route the wagon would have to take by road. If I can escape I can get to Rivenpike and find Ma first, she thought. But only if I can escape . . .

  Titus straightened up. ‘Is that clear, boy?’

  David nodded eagerly. ‘We track this Murrell to Rivenpike and see what he’s up to. And if we can, arrest him.’

  ‘And what about my mother?’ Hazel said.

  David cast Hazel a poisonous look. ‘She’ll have to take her chances.’

  Hazel embraced her anger like a long lost friend, feeling hot magic flowing back into her veins.

  ‘She’s getting ready to cast,’ Titus said, jumping to his feet. ‘Get the Syphon, boy, quickly.’

  David rummaged through the wooden trunk labelled ‘Misc’.

  Hazel recoiled as Titus grasped her chin in strong fingers. ‘Anger’s the trigger, isn’t it?’

  ‘Gerroff me,’ Hazel spluttered. She tried to gather her magic but it felt slippery, impossible to grab.

  ‘Where does it spring from?’ He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to stare into her soul. ‘Ah yes, your heart. It brims, doesn’t it?’