And so Madeleine had started wondering: were the witches there because there were no fae, or were the fae not there because the witches were?
Further research had found references to a treasure passed down through the generations, which had long been kept hidden away in this eastern part of Bretan, and which was said to be a barrier between worlds. And there were accounts of a witch accused of taking children to Faerie and returning changelings in their place, who had travelled between worlds in order to do so. At just fifteen years old, the girl had been hung and buried in a churchyard along with the wicked tools of her trade. Somewhere, on an island in the east of Bretan, she still lay imprisoned in the earth, trapped beneath an iron cage from which she was unable to escape.
Madeleine had been convinced that this girl possessed the hagstone and that the witches had been able to use it to keep the fae out of Eastern Bretan. And she had eventually convinced the Iron Court of the same. So they had granted her the time and the funds to travel here, in order to retrieve the stone. Their hope was that they could use it to permanently lock the fae out of the human world, and thus eliminate the risk of their return now that the age of iron had ended.
As Madeleine re-read her notes on this witch, she suddenly found that she could hardly breathe. Because, Madeleine realised, she now knew exactly where the witch was buried.
Time seemed to stand still. Madeleine knew everything now – knew precisely where to look. It would be a simple task for her to visit the island. It would be so easy to find out whether her theories had been correct.
5
CHAPTER FIVE
Tabitha was paddling at the fringes of the river, draping fronds of seaweed around her neck and wrists and ankles as if they were made of jewels, and squealing as the cold water lapped at her feet. All along the stretch of beach she had arranged the pebbles into patterns on the sand, making pictures of suns and stars and flowers. She was singing some song that Ondine must have taught her, which seemed to coax the water into rubbing its back along the beach like a purring cat, and the sight of which made Madeleine feel a little nervous. Tabitha looked for all the world as though the river was listening to her.
Madeleine sighed and lay back in the sand for a moment, her eyes half-closed as she squinted up at the bright sky. She should have been content, lying on a beach with Tabitha. But Madeleine could no longer ignore the voice which whispered to her daily now. It told her over and over again that, in all probability, she knew where the hagstone was. It could be hers, if only she would go and look for it.
But convincing as the voice was, Madeleine also loved her daughter – loved her fiercely – and couldn't help but think that if she did as she wanted to and went to look for the hagstone, she might put at risk all of the beautiful things that her daughter had built up around her. And so, racked with indecision, Madeleine just stared up at the sky and wondered what she ought to do.
“Mama!” Tabitha was calling to her. “I've found a tooth!”
“That's lovely, Tab,” Madeleine said without looking.
“It's very pointed,” Tabitha's uncertain voice drifted over. “What do you think it's from?”
“Something that lives in the sea, probably,” Madeleine said.
Tabitha went quiet, mulling over that possibility.
What it came down to, Madeleine supposed, was whether she would be able to just forget about the hagstone again, now that she knew where it was. She couldn't live with this voice forever. But would it quieten down again? And if it didn't, would it still do more harm than good to listen to it? It would provide some resolution to her decades-long search, to know for certain whether her theory about where the hagstone was buried had been correct. But if it came at the expense of the life she had built for herself here – was it worth it?
“What kind of creatures live in the sea?” Tabitha asked at last, her voice much closer now. She had padded over to where Madeleine was lying down and was looking down at her mother with a grey face.
“All sorts,” Madeleine replied, still being rather vague. “Similar to what you find in the river, but bigger, I imagine.”
“They must be a lot bigger,” Tabitha said, “if their teeth are as big as this. Do they ever come up into the river?”
“I've never seen one,” Madeline said. “I've never seen anything dangerous in the river.”
“But in the sea?”
Madeleine sat up. Sand fell from her back, and she could feel the crust of it in her hair. “There's nothing in the water that will hurt you,” she said gently. “How many times have you been in and out of that river?”
But Tabitha still looked unconvinced.
“Let me see the tooth.”
Her daughter passed it over. It was strange, Madeleine conceded, long and thin and from an animal that she wasn't sure she ever wanted to meet. But it was brown with age, and rock hard.
“Look,” she said, making Tabitha look at it again. “See how dark it is? How brittle it feels? This is a very old tooth, Tabitha. The animal it came from has been dead for a very, very long time. It's called a fossil.”
“I've never heard of a fossil.”
“Because we've never found one before,” Madeleine said easily.
“When have you found one before?”
Madeleine hesitated. There was so much about her past she couldn't share with her daughter. But perhaps just a little information wouldn't matter too much.
“I used to know a lot about ancient history,” she said eventually. “About what the world was like a very, very long time ago. Long before anyone we know was alive.”
“Even Nana?”
“Well, I can't say for certain,” Madeleine said, pretending to look thoughtful, “but I don't think even Nana was alive hundreds of years ago.”
She knew that she shouldn't really tell Tabitha any of this. That fascinated, obsessive expression on her face meant that she would probably recount this story both to Fraser and to Ondine, who would wonder at what Madeleine had been telling her daughter. She would need an explanation ready, for neither of them would know what a fossil was. But at least Tabitha was happy again for now, and had run back to play in the water.
As she watched her daughter retreat to the river Madeleine expected to feel the same sense of warmth and contentment that she usually did. But instead, she still felt the weight of her guilt pressing down on her, and the voice began whispering to her again, more urgently now…
It made such a difference to know exactly where she needed to look. Madeleine knew she was restless, had been distant from Fraser ever since she had found the Compendium and was unable to tell him what was bothering her. She just could not get the hagstone out of her head. It would be her undoing, Madeleine was sure; but she had to know whether she was right.
What harm could it do, she thought, just to go and look?
With a pang, Madeleine realised she had already made her decision.
6
CHAPTER SIX
If she had still been at the Iron Court, Madeleine would have done it at night. Thieving was so much easier in the dark, with the cover of night to conceal you.
But Madeleine was no longer at the Iron Court, and she hadn't been able to think of a way to slip out at night without Fraser wondering where she had gone. And so she had been forced to think of an alternative time to legitimately take the boat out on her own for a day. But it was rare that she got any time on her own these days, and the weeks gradually slipped past without opportunity for her to go. As they did, Madeleine was aware that she was growing more and more irritable. She liked to do things now, and she was increasingly frustrated that, having come to a decision, she remained unable to put her plan into action. All she could do was grind her teeth and wait.
The opportunity finally came some weeks later, when Fraser and Tabitha announced that they were going to Ondine's for the day. Madeleine pounced.
“I thought I might go out on the boat for a bit this morning, actually,” she said casually.
“Do you think Ondine will mind too much if I don't come with you?”
“No, I shouldn't think so,” said Fraser, but he looked surprised. He looked as though he was waiting for her to continue, but instead of expanding further, Madeleine just smiled and leaned in to kiss him. The first rule of a good lie, she recalled: never give any more detail than you needed to.
“Perhaps I'll bring back a few extra fish to salt, that we can save for later in the year,” she said sweetly.
“I'm sure you will,” Fraser said. “I've never known you not to make a catch.”
Again he looked as though he might say something further, and so Madeleine gave a light laugh and kissed him again – and then, feeling guilty, kissed him once more, tenderly, trying to tell him without words not to worry. She gave Tabitha such a great hug that it made her giggle. I will come back, she tried to tell her with her body. Fraser looked worriedly at her again, and Madeleine couldn't help feeling irritated with herself for a moment. You would never have aroused any suspicion in the past, the little voice whispered. You've got sloppy.
But Fraser trusted her, and so instead of voicing his concern that Madeleine would not be visiting his mother with them as usual, he simply kissed his partner again, and then scooped Tabitha up in his arms and carried her out of the house over his shoulder so that she screamed with delight.
Madeleine watched them go and then stole back into the house to retrieve her knives from the cavity in the wall. She knew that she didn't need them, really, but she thought that she might as well indulge herself. This was a one-off, she told herself firmly. And that was why she wanted to wear them. Once she had confirmed or denied her theories to herself, she wouldn't be getting them out again. So Madeleine stripped down to her underclothes and wrapped the leather knife belts around her thighs, her hips and her calves, and she felt herself grow flushed with excitement. She had almost forgotten what this felt like.
She allowed herself a moment to dance around like this, enjoying the press of the belts against her skin, and then she pulled her usual fishing gear on over the top. Some of the magic disappeared as the smell of saltwater washed over her, and Madeleine tried not to feel too disappointed. But she reminded herself that she was in disguise, slung a bag across her back, and strode out of the house.
As she walked through the village, Madeleine couldn't keep her heart from hammering in her chest. Had it been like this before? She didn't remember ever feeling so nervous. But every nod and wave from the people who greeted her startled her, making her panic that she had somehow been caught out. Not that there was anything to be caught out with, she told herself sternly. She was only going to take a look. And besides, why would anyone suspect that she was doing anything other than going out fishing for the afternoon?
To her vexation, when Madeleine reached the moorings many of the other villagers were already readying their boats to go out, no doubt taking advantage of the good weather. She forced herself to relax her pace. Although she waved and smiled brightly at the men and women on the boats moored up closest to their own little fishing boat, Madeleine only received rather reserved nods in return, and she couldn't keep in a heavy sigh. Something always kept her a little bit apart from the rest of the village.
Madeleine clambered aboard the boat, and made a quick nervous check to ensure that all of the items she had already stowed on board were still hidden where she had left them. Yes, all still present and correct: a shovel, a brush, a change of clothes, and a hammer. For a moment, she hesitated. She could still stop things here if she wanted to – simply go out fishing for the afternoon, or return to the house and then race over to Ondine's on the pretence that she had changed her mind. But she cast off anyway, and started sailing downriver, and then it seemed to Madeleine that the wind was urging her forward.
She felt wilder than she had done in years, the island beckoning her as the dead witch urged Madeleine to uncover her secrets. The other boats slowly disappeared as she sailed farther away from the village, and the land began to look wilder, too, the grazing marshes giving way to more unkempt shores and the river swiftening. No one would disturb Madeleine out here. The village fishing boats were not really suited for rough seas, and so the only time anyone sailed out this way was to visit the island, for a spot of adventure or a day trip. She stayed as close to the shore as possible, unwilling to stray too far out in case the current should be stronger than expected. More experienced sailors than her had been lost that way.
As she grew closer to the island, Madeleine concentrated harder on keeping the boat sailing evenly, always keeping one beady eye on the shore. She was looking for the spot she would recognise, where Fraser had taken her and Tabitha for a beautiful day on the island a couple of years ago. It had been a stunning little cove – muddy, of course, like everything here – but littered with beautiful shells and pebbles for Tabitha to collect, and with a spot where the boat could be moored at high tide. There – she spotted it.
Madeleine manoeuvred the boat into the cove and hopped ashore, pulling the boat up the sand as far as she could and securing it to a sapling growing from a shallow muddy cliff. It was tempting to linger here, she thought, as she gazed out to the endless sea. It was as beautiful as when they had visited here years before. But she needed to set sail again on the right tide, and so Madeleine reluctantly tore her gaze away from the horizon, packed the brush and hammer into her bag, grasped her shovel, and marched inland.
It was a short walk to the church, up narrow overgrown lanes. Madeleine could have kicked herself as it came into sight. They had visited the church when Fraser had brought them to the island before, and she had marvelled then at how the building had remained so intact, the most perfect example of a brick ruin she had ever seen. But Tabitha had been complaining that she wanted to go back to the beach, and it had never occurred to Madeleine that the perfectly intact building might have had something to do with the hagstone. So they had barely spent any time here at all before returning to the shore.
The church loomed high above Madeleine. Everything here was so flat, she guessed that there must be an incredible view from the top of the tower, and wondered whether you might even be able to see back as far as the village on a clear day. Perhaps she would have time to climb up when she was done. But for now, Madeleine squared her shoulders, pulled out a knife, and began hacking her way through the tangle of overgrown weeds to the church door. Here she left the shovel propped up in the porch, dumped her bag on the ground, and began to walk widdershins around the churchyard, cutting down the weeds as she went so that she would be certain she hadn't missed the grave she was looking for. It was slow progress, cutting away the grass to reveal the ancient gravestones beneath. But before she had made even one complete circuit of the church, Madeleine found what she was looking for.
She knew which grave it was straight away, without having to cut away any grasses at all. For that one alone was covered with wildflowers, which tumbled out from between the iron bars of a mortsafe wrapped around the earth. Madeleine stared. It was so strange. And the iron bars looked like a ribcage, she thought, with the two sides padlocked together. A little shiver ran down her spine. This was it.
Madeleine approached the grave and ran her fingers over the cage. And she shivered again. This was like nothing she had ever seen before. Madeleine felt some part of her mind willing her to stop, to turn back, and not to disturb whatever was here. But she ignored it, and cut away the grass and the wildflowers all around the grave so that she could move around it better. She retrieved the shovel and the bag from where she'd left them by the church door, and brought them over to the grave. It was now or never.
With steely determination, Madeleine gripped the hammer and struck at the padlock with every ounce of her strength.
7
CHAPTER SEVEN
A clang and a shudder ran through the churchyard, seeming to emanate from the ground itself. Madeleine's sense of unease grew stronger. But she didn't stop, and she continued to smash at th
e padlock, ignoring the ominous ring of steel on iron and the vibrations that made her fingers grow numb. She hit it again and again, until finally the padlock gave, and broke apart. Madeleine paused, breathing heavily. Nerves had drained some of the air from her lungs.
Forcing herself to inhale slowly, Madeleine pulled the padlock from the bars and then grabbed her shovel and began digging around the base of the cage. The bars had been buried deep. But humans had constructed this cage, Madeleine reminded herself as she grew tireder, and so eventually she must come to their base. And eventually she did.
With the same single-mindedness that had made Madeleine the Iron Court's best historian (or, depending on who you asked, thief), she evened out the ditch around the base of the bars until they were completely clear of the earth. Then she gripped the first set of bars, and she heaved them from the ground. She felt the wrench in her shoulders as they strained against the weight, but she found that once she had hauled the bars partway out of the earth then she could simply roll them away from the grave. Without pausing, as soon as the first set had rolled away, she did the same with the other set of bars.
Then, finally, Madeleine allowed herself to rest for a moment. She was still breathing heavily, and leaned against the shovel as she assessed the unearthed metal.
The Iron Court would give a lot to gain possession of this much iron, Madeleine knew. And it would be useful in the village too. It was hard to accept that she was going to have to leave this treasure here when in her past life she had been so accustomed to retrieving whatever scrap of metal she could for the Iron Court. But it would be impossible to transport the bars, and even if she could work out some mechanism for doing so, it would still be too difficult to explain how she had come to possess them when she got home. Reluctantly, Madeleine concluded that she would have to leave them in the churchyard. She returned to digging up the grave.
The Hagstone Page 3
