The Boy in the Dark: Book 4 of the Middengard Sagas

by June Wilson

  “Thought so.” Molly chewed her lip. “Could you teach me? I can’t pay you mind.”

  “That’s fine Molly – I’d be happy to help.” She couldn’t believe her luck – here was her opportunity to talk to her. “When do you want to start?”

  “Maybe this afternoon? Only if you’re not busy, like.”

  “No – I’m not busy at all.”

  Molly squealed and gave her a hug, squeezing her so hard Alice laughed. Having agreed the time she returned to the kitchen, deep in thought. It must have cost Molly a lot to admit she couldn’t read. So if Alice could help her, she would. She almost felt ashamed of wanting to get close to her for other reasons.

  “Who was at the door?” Toby said, ambling down the stairs. His hair was sticking out in all directions but he still looked good.

  “Molly Watson. She wants me to teach her to read.”

  “Right.” He pecked her on the cheek then went to examine the contents of the larder. “So that’s good then, isn’t it? You can ask her about Will – without being, you know, too obvious.” He emerged with a jar of jam in one hand and half a loaf in the other. “I don’t suppose there’s any bacon is there? I’m starving.”

  “No there isn’t,” she said, slapping his hand as he began to spoon jam from the jar. “Have some porridge. It’s good for you.”

  “You’re sounding more and more like Martha,” he said, cutting a thick slice of bread. “Anyway – how come Molly can’t read?”

  “None of them can Toby - they didn’t get to go to school. Or if they did, it wouldn’t have been for long. Not like you’d know - you spend all your time impressing the boys with your fighting skills.”

  “That’s right,” Toby grinned. “Reading doesn’t come up very often in boy talk. Speaking of which, I thought I might try and see Will later. Maybe he’ll talk to me if we’re on our own.”

  “Good idea. It seems the Watson family are our best leads. Our only leads.” Alice smiled but she couldn’t help feeling deflated. They’d seen no sign of any so-called psychic activity (much to Josh’s disappointment) and it could take ages to get to the bottom of Will’s story. Toby’s running trial was in five days and there was no way they’d be done by then. She could only hope what she’d promised Toby about lapsed time was true.

  “Don’t look so miserable,” Toby said, handing her a slice of jam and bread. “You can’t expect everything to drop into your lap, just because you’re the Stone Keeper. We need to do a bit more detective work, that’s all.”

  Four hours later, Alice told herself she would be teacher first and detective second as far as Molly was concerned. She was in the rarely used front parlour with its horsehair sofa and heavy antique table. It was on the gloomy side but more suited to lessons than the kitchen. The house was quiet – so quiet Alice could hear the ticking of the clock above the fireplace. The boys had gone into Leeds with Martha, to the big indoor market, and even the street outside had a Saturday afternoon quiet about it.

  She was feeling ridiculously nervous. Martha had given her a few sheets of precious paper for Molly to make her letters on, but Alice wasn’t sure how to go about teaching someone to read. It wasn’t as if she had any children’s books – Martha only owned a bible, two cookery books and a prized copy of ‘Jane Eyre.’ Alice supposed the Jane Eyre would have to do – at least it was a good story.

  Alice looked at the clock on the mantel. Half past two – half an hour past the appointed time. Maybe Molly had changed her mind? She was about to take a look outside when Molly banged on the window, making her jump.

  “Sorry,” Molly said, looking flustered. “I couldn’t find Will. I wanted him to go round to Mary’s so she could keep an eye on him. But once he wanders off, he wanders off.”

  Alice felt a flicker of excitement. Perhaps he’d gone to meet his mysterious friend. “And you don’t know where he gets to?” she asked, hoping Molly might have some clue.

  “Nope. He’s his own master is that boy. He’s only ten, but makes like he’s eighteen. And the stuff he comes out with!” Molly didn’t expand but looked round the parlour with interest. “It’s nice in here,” she said, running her hands over the polished table. “Is them the books I’m going to learn from?”

  Alice was dying to ask more about Will, and whatever the stuff was that Molly was referring to, but she thought she’d better not rush things. “Yes, these are the books – but you won’t be able to read them for a while. We’ll start with the alphabet and then I’ll show you some easy words.”

  “Righto.” Molly sat down and looked at her expectantly. Now she was here Alice felt even more nervous. Which was ridiculous, given she’d fought off dark elves and barogs and goodness knows what else. Then she realized what was making her anxious: it wasn’t just the need to find out information - she wanted Molly to like her. She hadn’t made friends with any girls, not since Jess died. Even though Orla, Iris and the twins had always been very nice to her, she wasn’t sure if she would call them friends exactly.

  Putting her nerves aside, she started the lesson. Luckily Molly was an eager learner and pestered her with question after question, so the time flew by. After two hours, Molly was able to recognize a handful of basic words and neatly copy her name.

  “M-o-l-l-y,” she spelt out, frowning in concentration. “It’s not so hard, is it?”

  “No - but you’ve done really well. I didn’t think you’d get to writing so quickly.”

  “Got a good teacher, haven’t I?” Molly gave her an appraising look. “I didn’t much like you, when you first come, and that’s the truth. But you’re all right, you are. Not as uppity as you look.”

  “Um – thank you. I think.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d better get off. Can I take this?” Molly waved the paper with her letterings on it.

  “Of course.” Alice hoped Martha wouldn’t begrudge the loss of paper. It was worth it, given she seemed to have won Molly’s confidence. “And we’ll have another lesson soon if you like – maybe after work one day?”

  “Really?” Molly’s face lit up. “Monday then. It’s right exciting this is.” She folded the paper into a neat square and put it in her pocket. She hesitated a moment then seemed to come to a conclusion about something.

  “I’m going to the fairground tonight. You can come if you like - and bring them others too. It don’t cost much.”

  The fairground? Martha hadn’t mentioned it. It seemed an unlikely thing in this grimy town. But it was a good opportunity to get closer to Molly, especially after the success of the lesson. And she was sure the boys would be up for it.

  “Of course we’ll come,” she said, crossing her fingers. All she had to do was convince Martha it was a good idea.

  In the end, Martha didn’t stop them going to the fair but she didn’t exactly approve either.

  “Fair indeed,” she huffed, chopping up carrots with a vengeance. “A few stalls and a merry-go-round – not to mention charlatans selling all sorts of miracle potions and what-not.”

  “But Molly asked us,” Alice said. “And I’ll get chance to find out if she knows anything.”

  “Please Martha,” Josh added. “It’ll be fun. You could come too.”

  “Not tonight. I’m already going out, if you must know.”

  “Really? Who with?” Alice said before she could stop herself. Martha had stuck by them like glue most evenings. She seemed to think it her duty not to let them out of her sight.

  “My gentleman friend. He’s taking me to the tea rooms.” Martha threw the carrots into the soup on the stove and began to stir vigorously. This was news. She’d never mentioned a boyfriend before.

  “Well – good for you,” Toby said. “What’s he like? Do we get to meet him?”

  “Maybe.” She was trying to look stern but Alice could tell she was pleased with herself. “He’s under-chef at the Royale. He said my pastries were the best he’d ever tasted.”

  The Royale was a smart hotel in the centre of town. Martha
had been baking to order for them for the last few weeks and was hoping for a permanent job. It would be better paid than the mill work.

  “Smart man. I’d agree with him there.” Josh licked his fingers. He’d just demolished one of Martha’s apple pies and was eyeing off another.

  “So – you don’t mind if we go to the circus then?” Alice persisted. “We’ll be careful.”

  “You’d better be.” Martha took down a tin mug from the dresser and emptied a pile of coins onto the table. “You can have three pennies each and no more. And watch out for pickpockets. I know you can take care of yourselves, but they’ll fleece you before you know it.”

  Martha’s blessing having been obtained Alice, Toby and Josh set off for the fair. It was a cold night and Alice was glad of the heavy overcoat Martha had pressed on her as she left. It was too big for her but she didn’t mind. It made her feel less conspicuous. As for Toby and Josh, they looked as tattered and grubby as all the other boys that were milling around. She was pretty sure they all looked like nineteenth century street urchins by now. Her aunt Rebecca would have a fit.

  The two boys were laughing about some ridiculous work story and Alice tuned out their banter as they followed the crowd. It seemed the fairground was a huge attraction, despite Martha’s reservations. She knew from Molly that it had been set up close to the river, on common land with little to recommend it other than a tangle of wild blackberries. But as they turned the corner, Alice could see the space had been transformed, with hundreds of lanterns hanging from a rope fence and painted signs announcing the various attractions. There were rows of canvas tents as well as a merry-go-round and a multitude of food stalls. The air was rich with the smell of roast chestnuts and hot pies and braziers burned at every corner, dispelling the gloom.

  Alice had arranged to meet Molly at the entrance and she stood to one side as the crowd poured in. At Josh’s insistence, the boys had gone to supplement their supper and she hadn’t argued. She figured it would be easier if she talked to Molly on her own first. They could meet up with Toby and Josh later.

  “You made it then.” Molly suddenly appeared at her side, a big grin on her face. Alice saw she had discarded her drab woolen clothes and was wearing a faded silk dress that was about two sizes too big for her. She had compensated by tying a wide ribbon round her waist and disguising the sleeves with an embroidered shawl. Her normally lank hair had been washed and curled and Alice suspected she was wearing make-up.

  “You look nice,” she said, wondering whether Molly had some other reason for meeting her. Perhaps she was secretly meeting a boyfriend and needed Alice as chaperone? She could hardly be cross about it, given she had her own agenda.

  “Yeah, well, don’t get much chance to go out, do I? Anyways, where are those friends of yours?” Molly looked round, scanning the row of stalls in front of them.

  Oh – so that was it. Molly had her eye on Toby. That could be more than awkward, but she would have to play along.

  “Um – they’ve gone to get some food. Josh is always hungry.”

  “Yeah – I’ve seen him in the yard.” Molly blushed and smoothed down her dress. “He looks strong.”

  Alice suppressed a smile. So it was Josh she’d taking a liking to. “He is – very,” she agreed. “Toby says he can lift the heaviest bales. I think Joe’s pleased with him.”

  “I know – I heard.” Molly lowered her voice. “I hear lots of things, I do. And that’s why I wanted you to come with me, see. I got something important to do, but I don’t want to do it on my own.”

  Alice’s heart skipped a beat. Her Intuition told her that whatever the important thing was, it had something to do with Middengard.

  “What is it?” she said, trying not to sound too excited.

  Molly pointed to one of the tents. “I want to see Madame Varia. She’s a medium – a right famous one. She gave Edith Slater a message from her dead husband last night. Edith said no one could’ve known the sweetheart’s name he gave her. And the night before, old Mary saw three of her dead children. Three!”

  Whatever Alice had been expecting, it wasn’t this. A séance - no doubt conducted by one of the charlatans Martha had been so scathing about. On the other hand, it was about contacting the dead, so it could be linked to the escaped spirits. It was a possible lead, if only a faint one.

  “Do you think we’ll get in?” she asked. The queue outside the medium’s tent was one of the longest – it snaked all the way back to the main gate.

  “We’ll get in – don’t you worry about that. Just stick close to me and do what I tell you.”

  Alice followed Molly through the crowd. The line was moving slowly and the medium’s tent didn’t look very big. A man in a luridly striped suit was collecting the entrance fee – which was sixpence and far more than she had in her pocket. And she couldn’t believe that Molly had enough money for the two of them.

  “Here we go.” Molly dug her sharply in the ribs. “Get ready to move when I tell you.” Just as Molly spoke, there was a scuffle at the front of the queue.

  “You have to let me in!” A woman wailed. She was wearing black from head to toe, her face covered by a veil.

  “No money, no audience,” the man said. “Now get out of the way.”

  “Please – I’m begging you!” The woman grabbed him by the arm.

  “I’ve told you no.” He shook her off and she fell to the ground, sobbing. “Now get lost, or else.” He aimed a sharp kick at her side.

  “Hey – none o’ that.” A bald-headed man intervened and soon the two men were in a heated argument. Molly grabbed Alice’s hand and pulled her round the back of the tent.

  “Quick! While no one’s looking.” She lifted the canvas and wriggled underneath, giving Alice no choice but to follow. She didn’t know whether Molly had arranged the distraction or whether it was a lucky coincidence, but it explained why Molly wasn’t worried about getting in. She just hoped the ticket collector didn’t work out they’d fooled him.

  Once inside, Alice looked round the interior with interest. There were six rows of seats, arranged in a neat semi-circle around a small, raised dais. At the back of the dais was a thick velvet curtain. A poster was displayed on a large gilt easel announcing Madame Varia - World Famous Medium. A portrait beneath showed a woman with dark hair and hooded eyes, heavily made up. Alice felt a pang of disappointment. This was just pantomime stuff.

  Molly dragged her to a seat in the back row and the tent began to fill up. Alice tried not to stare as both men and women, somberly dressed in mourning clothes, grasping trinkets of all shapes and sizes, took their seats. Some looked frightened; most looked hopeful.

  “Why do you want to see her - Madam Varia?” she whispered, realizing Molly hadn’t said. The other girl had gone suspiciously quiet and was fidgeting with a handkerchief.

  “I want to see my ma’. To tell her I’m looking after Will proper, like she asked.”

  “Oh. Right. Did he get home all right then?” She crossed her fingers, hoping Will had told her where he’d been.

  Molly looked at her as if she was being stupid. “Course he did. He knew he’d be in trouble if he didn’t - I don’t let him out after dark. Like I said, he thinks he knows what’s what, but there’s buggers round here that’d take advantage. Ooh, look – she’s coming out!” Molly clutched Alice’s hand as a hush fell on the audience. The velvet curtain had parted to reveal a woman wearing a bejeweled caftan.

  “Welcome,” the medium said, lifting her arms in a theatrical gesture. “Tonight you will meet those you most long for. Those who have passed to the other side.” Her voice was deep and musical. Alice thought she was probably a con artist, but she was quite impressive all the same.

  “I know what it is to lose a loved one.” Madam Varia clutched her chest. “The pain is beyond endurance. But I, Varia, tell you this – if you believe in love, in the chain that cannot be broken, then you will see your heart’s desire this night.”

  The audience wa
s spellbound. Madam Varia might be a fake but she was a good one. She took a seat at the table in the centre of the stage and smoothed her hands across its surface. “There may be those who doubt the great Varia. Those who think I play tricks – no?” She smiled and opened a carved box. “Here I have a keepsake from my own daughter – snatched from me so young.” She extended her hand towards the audience and a collective sigh went up: the keepsake was a lock of curling blond hair, tied in a scarlet ribbon.

  “Let all doubts be banished this night. Let the dead speak for themselves.” The medium closed her eyes. “Come darling Isabella,” she intoned. “Come to your mother, from the place where you dwell.”

  The light inside the tent darkened. The ticket collector’s work, Alice supposed. A mist obscured the stage and there was a sudden smell of wet earth. The curtain twitched – there was someone behind it, probably preparing to orchestrate some sort of ghostly appearance. Alice was trying to work out how that might be achieved when a silvery figure appeared – a girl who was there but not there. She was thin, with shimmering blond hair. The audience gave a collective shriek and Molly jumped from her seat, her hand stifling a thrilled scream.

  Alice sat quite still, as if she’d been turned to stone. She’d thought it was all an elaborate trick, but she couldn’t have been more mistaken. There was a link to Middengard all right – but not the one she’d been expecting. Because Madam Varia’s dead daughter was none other than Jessica Westwood, who was looking directly at her, trying not to smile.

  MIDDENGARD

  Chapter 14

  They left the cottage before first light. By Ellie’s calculations they were less than a day’s ride from the Vale and she wanted to reach the boundary before nightfall. Despite her standing as a daughter of the Gods, this was new territory for her. She was both apprehensive and curious at the thought of seeing the mysterious land that welcomed the dead but not the living.

  As children she, Geraint and Jonas had been fond of scaring each other with stories of the Vale. It was full of monsters twice the size of any troll; it was full of wraiths that lured the almost dead into the mists then stole their bodies. She knew better now of course – or at least knew as much as anyone was allowed. The Vale of Tears was under the jurisdiction of the goddess Hel, who claimed the dead as her due. All souls passed through Hel’s Hall on the journey to the afterlife, but it was said the goddess could be fickle. It was said some suffered in the Vale for eternity, lost in the mists of time.