Emily gave a brief smile, and then began to cry a bit more. When she’d finished, after wiping her nose on her sleeve, and giving Snaps a reassuring pet, her mind turned to why all these people had shown up here in the first place.
“Why did you come to see Lichen anyway?” Emily asked.
Ginger didn’t want to get Emily involved in this, but it was probably already too late for that anyway. Somebody with dark powers had done that to Lichen under her very roof, and if she were to come and stay with them it would be irresponsible of her not to explain what was going on. She looked at Cressida, who could see her mother wanted to reveal all. She nodded her assent.
“Shall I start?” Cressida offered.
So, with a little embellishment from Joe on his bravery during the irie segment of their story, everything was related. Emily took all this in without any incredulous shrieks of laughter at the absurdity of it all, which made Cressida glad. She would have hated to have a go at her.
“So the only way you can remove the protection spell on the book and destroy it is to learn ancient Elvish?” said Emily. She had stopped crying now and was wearing her serious, scholarly face. Cressida thought it made her look like a constipated librarian.
Cressida said. “The only person left in the whole world who knew it was Lichen, and now he’s dead. I might as well just offer myself up to them now and wait for the knife to plunge in.”
“Oh you’re so defeatist, Cressida,” said Emily. “I wouldn’t be choosing your headstone just yet if I was you. Show me the book.”
Cressida figured it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, it might cheer up all their day if Emily were to touch it and end up taking a dunk in the nearest body of water. After all, a cleansing was good for the soul.
She put the book down beside Emily, who put her hand towards it but pulled away at the last second. The ancient Elvish symbols on the cover gave Cressida a headache. How could I have known they were ancient Elvish, she wondered yet again. I must have seen them before and been told what they were, but when? And why couldn’t I remember? Strangely nobody had seemed to ask her this question. They had just accepted her word it was written in ancient Elvish and that was that.
“The Book of Fire,” Emily said in wonder.
Cressida, Ginger and Joe turned to Emily in shock.
“You can read it?” asked Cressida.
“Of course I can read it,” said Emily, as if the question was ever in doubt.
Chapter 5 – The Book of Fire
“How can you read this?” Cressida asked.
“Well, obviously Lichen taught me. He said I was the best pupil he ever had, though he said there was only one other.” Emily thought for a moment, hand idly stroking the cat by her side. “The other must have been that horrid Mr. Blueoak. I could raise the Great Var again right now if I wanted!”
“Probably not,” said Cressida. The last she’d seen of the frozen Great Var he had been in pieces and being carted off by the government.
“As if I would,” said Emily. “Turn the page will you?”
Cressida sighed, wanting to mumble something like “I’m not your slave” but held her tongue. It was starting to become blindingly obvious that her worst enemy might be her salvation. Starting an argument with Emily might make her think twice about sharing her knowledge of ancient Elvish.
“What is the Book of Fire?” Cressida asked.
“I don’t know,” said Emily. “It’s just the title of a book. However, Lichen did mention it once, and he said it was dangerous. By Rafreya you’ve stumbled upon the most powerful spell book of all time. Unless it’s a fake of course. The real one has a jacket made of human skin like a lot old really old Elf books.”
“It really is human skin,” said Ginger.
Joe said, “Did this human die naturally or…”
“More likely he, or she, was captured and skinned alive just for the purpose of this book,” said Emily as Cressida turned the page and Joe’s face turned green. There was more writing, or more like a list. ”
Emily continued. “These are names, about thirty of them. They’re the people who wrote the spells into the book. It was probably done over the course of thousands of years. There’s probably enough room in the back to put our own spells in. Not that I’ve developed any new dark magic spells lately. Turn the page.”
The page was turned. A picture of a rather serious looking Elf was revealed. He was gripping a serrated, bloody knife in his left hand and he wore a cloak that failed to obscure his scarred, pockmarked face. A belt around his waist hosted six more similar knives and in his left hand he was carrying a book similar to the one they were reading now. Cressida found him rather grim looking, maybe the victim of some disease but certainly evil.
“It says here this book was originated by the Elf pictured here, a prince and an enchanter of incredible dark power, but it doesn’t say what his name is.” Emily appeared to be quite upset, as if the Elf was some long lost friend she’d lost touch with. “It’s a shame. I’d like to learn more about him.”
“Whatever for?” said Cressida.
“If he’s a prince of the Elves then there’s bound to be information about him,” said Emily. “If we had his name it would be a starting point. If we learn who he is then we might be able to figure out why he began this book in the first place.”
“He’s obviously mad,” said Joe.
“Does he look mad to you?” said Emily.
Cressida studied the picture again and had to agree with Emily. This Elf didn’t look mad or insane. He looked like he was in deep thought, his mind full of schemes. The very first spell in the book must be his, and for some reason she wanted to know what it was and why it was called the Book of Fire.
“Turn the page,” Emily ordered. Cressida did so gladly, coming to the spell that she had looked over before but could only now get the true meaning of.
“Well?” Cressida demanded. “What does it say?”
“I’m reading it as fast as I can but this might take some time,” said Emily, eyes scanning the rows of strange, almost hieroglyphic type letters. “Well, most of this first page is written by the Elf whose drawing was on the previous page going on and on about how humans are always interfering and wouldn’t it be wonderful to finally get away from them and all that. His name is Prince Fatespore. There’s a bit on his three wives, and his son, and the daughter who was killed by humans, and the terrible vengeance he wrought on the world but nothing much else. This is one angry Elf. There’s also a tiny spell at the bottom for causing a person’s heart to catch fire, which is very nasty. It’s probably also why the book is called the Book of Fire. You can’t help but feel sorry for him in a way.”
“Well, maybe the bit about humans killing his daughter but that spell to set someone’s heart on fire is just horrible,” said Cressida. “I’m turning the page, quickly.”
“But there’s…”
So the pages were turned again and again for about ten minutes. The two of them, with Ginger looking over her shoulder, were utterly fascinated by what they found; spell after spell on everything from how to kill with one word to controlling the actions of another and stealing or altering someone’s memories and the spell that could bring creatures back to life. There were several resurrection spells, some of them pertaining to particular creatures, others just for humans.
As they got to the middle of the book Cressida stopped. She could see that a page had been torn out, and that the paper of the missing page was a lot thicker than the rest of the book. Perhaps some enchanter had created a spell so horrible they’d ripped it out of the book for fear it would ever be used?
The number of spells that had fire as a component was startling. You could turn any number of a person’s internal organs into a flaming ball of fire if you wanted, or you could transform somebody’ house into pure flame and cook them alive. There was even a spell to turn the spell-caster, temporarily, into a being made of fire. Cressida wasn’t surprised to see all these spells w
ere created by Prince Fatespore.
A newspaper headline from a year ago suddenly popped into her head. It had read “Museum Fire Kills Thief Curator.” An employee at Blueoak’s museum had suffered from a bout of spontaneous human combustion after being found out he was stealing relics from the museum to sell on the black market. Had Mr. Blueoak used one of those ancient fire spells to give his own brand of punishment? Cressida thought it highly likely.
“Let’s leave it for now,” said Emily, yawning. “I’m really tired and this is giving me a headache. Shall I pack my bags?”
Cressida groaned. She had almost forgotten, during the reading of the book, that Emily was moving in with them.
“Are you going to teach us?” Cressida asked.
“Teach you what?” Emily wondered.
“You need to teach us all ancient Elvish so one of us can…” Cressida remembered going through the various spells with Emily, and the protection spell hadn’t been there. “Is the protection spell actually in this?”
“It’s at the back of the book, according to something Prince Fatespore said in his introduction,” said Emily. She yawned again. “Besides, only the person bonded to the book can begin or end the protection spell. That was written on the second page.”
“So only I need to learn ancient Elvish,” she said, feeling defeated. “You know how pathetic I am at learning languages!”
“I’m sure even you can learn something if you try hard enough,” said Emily.
Cressida didn’t think so. She had the added bonus of her life being on the line if she didn’t do this right and it was making her more nervous than she’d ever been. What if she couldn’t be taught? What if it takes her months, maybe years to learn it? Did she even have that long?
“I know you can do it,” said Ginger. “I’ll help you. I may not have to learn it but I’m sure having me there, learning with you, will help.”
“I’ll learn it, too,” added Joe. The irie twitched behind his ear. She had been quiet for a while now.
“I don’t want to imply that Cressida is mentally challenged or anything but perhaps one on one lessons would be the best?” Emily suggested. “That way she’ll have to learn quicker.”
“She’s right,” said Ginger.
Cressida’s life now lay solely in her own hands and she wasn’t sure she was up to the job. Could she get on with Emily? Could she even do the spell without the magic gene?
“Does it say anything in there about why I can do magic?” she asked.
“Not so far,” said Emily. “However, I can guess that, upon finding itself lumbered with a useless girl devoid of the magic gene, it somehow imbibed you with its own magical energies. It’s quite remarkable really.”
“I suppose it is,” Cressida conceded, ignoring Emily’s jibe that she was useless.
There was a knock at the door. All four of them, including the cat, began to tense, fearful that something bad was about to happen. Had whoever turned Lichen into that ghastly plant thing come back? They heard Miss Weber shouting out if everything was all right in there. Emily giggled and went to the door.
“Don’t all pile in at once,” said Emily, as Miss Weber, Seth, the Drake triplets and Martin entered. The house felt crowded all of a sudden and all Cressida wanted to do was go home and sleep in her own bed. Except she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not until she’d learnt ancient Elvish; not until the protection spell was broke, and certainly not until the Book of Fire was in flames, burning to ashes. Maybe then she could curl up in bed, snug, and sleep and dream like a normal kid.
A battle as old as time began to break out; cat versus dog. Martin the wolf had noticed the cat but, because he had the soul of a human, wasn’t really that interested in the giant ball of ginger fluff. Snaps, however, did not appear to like another animal intruding upon her territory. Fur and tail raised, Snaps hissed and yowled like a mad thing until Martin snapped his jaws at her. The cat fled to the kitchen.
“Keep your dog away from my cat,” Emily ordered.
“He’s not a dog,” said Cressida. “He’s a human soul born into a wolf.”
Miss Weber cleared her throat. “Forget about that. Do we have what we came for?”
She was told of Lichen’s death, and of Emily being his star pupil. Miss Weber wasn’t usually the sort of person who saw omens in things but she was starting to get a sense now that the cosmos didn’t want her to bring down the Shadow Assemblage. Too many things were being constantly thrown her way to block her efforts. Now she was leaving it all up to two young girls who positively hated each other. Could Cressida do it? Miss Weber had faith in her but it was on the verge of wavering.
Miss Weber looked at Emily. “You go and pack. Just the one case, though; the sky platform can only carry so much. Seth, go with her to make sure she doesn’t get killed or starts trying to pack the kitchen sink. Triplets, you go and get the sky platform started up. I want to be away from here and back to the Widdershins house as soon as possible and, Cressida, stop scowling at Emily.”
Cressida didn’t realize she was scowling at Emily, but stopped doing it anyway. She watched as Emily, followed by Seth, went through a door on the other side of the living room. The girl was explaining to him how wonderful she was no doubt. Seth was probably taking it all in.
“So she really can read the book,” Miss Weber mused. The front door shut as the Drake triplets left.
“It appears so,” said Ginger. “Why would Lichen teach such an old, dead language to an eleven year old girl? What could she possibly need with it?”
“She does want to be an Elf surgeon,” said Joe. “Maybe she just wants to be totally integrated into Elf life, including its long-lost language.”
“Integrated?” said Cressida. “Have you been reading the dictionary?”
Joe showed them a leaflet he’d found on the mantelpiece. The title said “Integration of Lunander and Rafreya into one.” He told them that, while Cressida and Emily were flicking through the Book of Fire, he’d picked up the leaflet and read it. He’d found it quite fascinating, if a little wordy.
“It looks like Lichen belongs to a group that wants to merge both religions into one,” said Joe. “It makes sense I suppose. They’re basically the same anyway.”
“No they’re not,” said Miss Weber, seething. She took her duties to the Goddess Rafreya very seriously.
“Does that really matter right now?” said Cressida, remembering to take the leaflet from Joe and burn it later. “Once Emily teaches me ancient Elvish then this nightmare will be over. Is anyone else but me happy about that?”
They were, of course. And so, with Snaps inside a cat carrier, yowling all the time, and Emily forcing Seth to lug along her stuffed suitcase, they all boarded the sky platform. The hole in the middle made by the Swine house’s defensive spells was gone now, healed over as if it had never been. They had moved some of Emily’s dining room chairs onto it so they didn’t all have to stand and they would be comfortable. It all rather felt like a family picnic to Cressida.
“I wish I had a sky platform,” Emily moaned as their transport took off. “It seems to me a rather simple, yet elegant, way of getting from here to there.”
“They are not available for the general public,” said Miss Weber.
“What a shame,” said Emily.
Joe could hear the irie asleep inside his hair. She was making minute snoring sounds that sounded quite cute. He banished that thought quickly. Corona was the enemy, the one had had made him doubt Cressida, and he needed to be rid of her. But why hadn’t he told everyone about her? He’s had his chance, plenty of times.
On the journey home they had the most wonderful time. It was night now, and with not a single cloud in the sky they could look up and see the stars. It was almost as if they were floating in the depths of space themselves it felt so wonderful. Seth pointed up at a particular star cluster. He appeared particularly animated.
“That is the only cluster that has no name,” he told the
m in an awed whisper. They knew this already but it was a good story so they didn’t say anything. “Five thousand years ago a human astronomer called Frederick originally named it after his wife, Elsa. He loved that woman more than life itself. He would do anything for her, including stealing the crown jewels of the emperor. She wanted them badly, you see. Elsa said they complimented the deep red of her hair. So Frederick, being the doting husband he was, stole the crown jewels in a daring heist which his two brothers took part in. When he presented the jewels to Elsa she gave him a kiss and told him she would love him forever. That night Frederick looked up at the stars, at the cluster of stars he had named after his wife, and thought that life couldn’t get any better. He woke up the next morning to find Elsa had gone, taking the crown jewels with her. Also gone was one of his brothers, who it turned out was Elsa’s secret lover. How Frederick despaired of the loss of his one true love! Yet he didn’t want to stay down long. He still had the stars to look at, his own Elsa up in the heavens. Elsa and the brother, Marcus, had set up Frederick, though. During the heist Marcus had planted his brother’s wedding ring, which he’d stolen the day before. The emperor’s guards found this ring, matched it to Frederick, and promptly arrested him. During the struggle a spear was raked across the astronomer’s eyes and he was instantly blinded.
“The emperor at that time was a good man, and after hearing Frederick’s story and feeling sorry for him he let him go. The emperor thought the poor man had been punished enough. Frederick was, however, a broken soul. His Elsa had left him and now he didn’t even have the sight to see the stars he had named after his treacherous wife. So he visited the astronomical society and scrubbed out the name of the star cluster, calling it instead “no name.” The astronomical society has never dared to give it a name since, fearing that whoever did so would end up with the same sort of luck that Frederick had. So there the star cluster sits, with no name.”
Shadow Page 3
