by Vashti Hardy
After Lavender had insisted she at least eat a pumpkin pancake for breakfast, Prue hurried over to the main building.
She walked in just as Craftsman Primrose was leaving the building. “Studying again, Apprentice Haywood? There’s no stopping you! The good news is we’re about to meet Master Woolstenbury’s expectations on the hundred. Mind you, this news is top secret; if Governor Watson-Wentworth gets wind of it, he’ll likely add another ten personifates on to the list!”
He peered at her for a second. “Is that a Rights for Personifates badge?”
“Oh yes, is it all right to wear it?”
“Well, some here might prefer a more neutral stance, but I can’t say that I mind at all,” he winked kindly.
She told him about the poor retriever and handed him the address of the personifate’s companion.
“Dear me, how terrible. I’ll make a few enquiries and check whoever was responsible was charged. Right, best be getting on.”
He hurried away. Prue waited for a moment, then went up the stairs to the memory lab. With a quick glance over her shoulder she hurried along, rushed through the door, then shut it gently behind her.
She froze.
Edwin was sitting in the middle of the room staring at her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I’ve been following you for days.”
Her words jammed in her throat.
“You’ve been avoiding me for a while now. What exactly are you up to, Frances?”
“I’m not avoiding you. I’ve just been—”
“Busy?”
“Yes, well, it’s a nice quiet room for studying.”
“And for experimenting with equipment.” He pulled the sheet from the box where Prue had hidden her modified GODAR.
“Please, you haven’t told anyone, have you?”
He looked at her curiously. “I thought we were friends?”
“We were friends, I mean we are. It’s just…” She thought of Francis and the wound felt new again, and the emotion of it all rose in her chest in an overwhelming surge. She felt tears filming her eyes. She didn’t want to cry, but she’d been caught, and she suddenly felt laid bare and exhausted from having to keep secrets.
“What’s going on?”
She sat down beside Edwin and drew in a long breath. “I had a brother. He got sick, just a silly bug, the sort that most people get over, except he didn’t. He was the one from one in a thousand who died from it.”
Edwin looked up at her. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
Prue didn’t want anyone to be sorry, she just wanted things back to how they were.
“I know what it’s like,” he said after a while.
“Edwin, how can you possibly know what it’s like? You don’t have family.”
He moved to face her, paws on hips. “It might not be exactly the same, but I do know what it’s like, because I’m dead. I’ve lost everything – any brothers and sisters I may have had – but I’ve also lost myself. Who was I? I have no idea, and that’s not easy to live with. Ever thought of that?”
She shook her head, angry with herself for being so thoughtless. “Edwin, I’m so sorry.”
He put a paw on her knee. “What was his name?”
“Ah … that’s another thing.” She bit her lip, then said, “He was called Francis.”
Edwin frowned at her. “But that’s your name? You both had the same name?”
“No. Frances Haywood isn’t my real name … I’m actually Prue Haywood.” She explained what had happened when Craftsman Primrose had first arrived at the farm, and how he’d heard about a talented young mechanic called Francis.
Edwin listened intently. “Wow. Do you ever count how many risks you take in a day?”
“You can see why I thought it might be best to distance myself from you and Ag.”
“So, Prue – which I must say suits you better as a name – are you going to tell me what the machine is all about? I promise I won’t tell a soul. Not even Ag, if you don’t want me to.”
Prue showed him her journal and explained how she’d worked out her theory of history data being isolated in a different part of the overall wildspark signal.
Edwin listened intently and nodded. “Have you tried it yet?”
“No. I was going to ask Luella; she knows about Francis, and she wants to help.”
“Try it on me.”
“What?”
“Right here and now.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“That’s not funny. What if it goes wrong and I do something to your frequency? Luella doesn’t think her qwortzite will hold out for much longer, so she says she’s got nothing to lose, but you’re young in your second life.”
“Then we’ll not need to say another word about it, because I’ll be dead. Again.” Edwin saw Prue’s stricken face, then sighed. “Look, I’m just joking. I won’t die.” He gestured towards the pages of her journal. “Your calculations look sound. I trust you. And if there is the remotest chance of me finding out who I really am, I could be the first personifate to ever know.”
“You should know that after I fainted in the harnessing, Master Woolstenbury warned me against messing with memory. If she found out what I’ve been up to, we’d both be thrown out of here.”
“The fact you carried on tells me that it’s a risk you’re willing to take.”
Prue nodded.
“Then I am too.” He smiled. “How do we hook up this machine of yours?”
Prue got to work checking everything then gently put the wires a millimetre into Edwin’s stomach.
“Ouch!”
“Oh, I’m sorry!”
“I’m kidding. We don’t feel pain, remember?”
“Not a good time for joking, Ed.”
She stopped speaking and concentrated on creating a loop wire. When she was happy, she said, “When the signal is isolated, I’m hoping the machine will read it, but also that you’ll be able to directly feel the memory when the isolated signal is sent back.”
“An interesting thought. There’s only one way to find out. Press the button, Prue.”
For a moment she thought she saw the flicker of nerves in his eyes, but she forced herself to look at the GODAR and focus. Within moments, the frequency was being displayed on the monitor unit. The shape had a different pattern to Luella’s; it had a strong, yet elegant, movement. With a turn of the dial she isolated what she hoped was the history data. The reading fizzed and blurred for a moment, then there was one very thin, clear rise and fall.
She looked keenly at Edwin. “Has anything changed? Edwin, do you feel anything?”
Edwin shook his head.
Prue’s heart sank to the floor. “Of course. It was ridiculous to think it would work on the very first try.”
“I wasn’t shaking my head because I don’t feel anything. I was shaking it because Edwin isn’t my name.”
“What do you mean?” she said in barely a whisper.
“It’s strange. I don’t remember any other details, but suddenly I do remember my name.”
Prue was aghast.
“My name’s Jack. Jack Swift.”
CONFESSIONS
Prue and Edwin made their way out of the factorium. They were both buzzing about the revelation and needed to get some fresh air and take it all in. Edwin hopped across the lawn with extra spring in his paws.
Prue thought that Jack Swift was the most brilliant name and it somehow suited him perfectly.
“I know my name is just one detail to remember, but it feels huge. Like all of a sudden I’ve reclaimed a piece of me.”
“I’m happy for you, Edwin – I mean, Jack. Gosh, what do I call you now?”
“Best stick to Edwin for now or people will start to wonder, and we don’t want the masters to find out about it. And I’ll obviously stick to Frances.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
“Imagine if your brother had a sec
ond life; you would know it’s him if he could remember his name. And perhaps we could work on a way to restore more memories. I mean, it’s obviously going to take time. I know so many personifates who would want this more than anything. We must be cautious, but this is amazing! For the first time in my second life I feel properly connected to what’s come before. Like a part of me has been unlocked.”
“That’s great.” Prue beamed.
“I could put the word out to some of the personifates. Covertly, of course,” said Edwin.
“That’s a good idea. Perhaps if we can persuade Queen Adelaide to try it, then it could be the key to finding out more. Imagine if it turns out she really was a queen all this time, while everyone around her has been laughing behind her back and humouring her? And if she’s had her memory the whole time – think what it might mean!”
Edwin paused. “It’s a good idea, but remember Queen Adelaide talks to everyone about everything. I’m not sure she has it in her to keep it quiet. Are you going to tell Agapantha?”
“I’d like to. I don’t want to put her at risk, though. And I feel a bit daft for never mentioning my brother and for being so off with her lately.”
“She’ll understand.”
Then something caught her attention at the forest edge; a tall and slim figure walked from the orchard and disappeared into the trees.
“Is that Sollentude?” Prue said.
Edwin looked to where she was pointing, but the figure had gone. “It could be. He’s probably seeing if he can catch us laying traps again.”
But something about it struck Prue as odd. “He seems to do an awful lot of lurking around the forest,” Prue said suspiciously. Then her eye was caught by Luella in the window of the messenger tower and it was clear who would be next. Prue whistled and Luella flew down to them.
“What are you two up to? If you’ve got messages for me, I’m not sure … I’m feeling up for it.”
Prue explained her latest developments.
“Oh! My previous name? I’m rather used to Luella, dearie … but wouldn’t it be a thrill to find out!”
“You must promise not to tell anyone.”
“Of course, cross my feathered chest.”
“Then there’s no time like the present!”
The three of them headed back to the memory lab, making a slightly awkward diversion to the library after bumping into Craftsman Shad in the atrium.
When the coast was clear they hurried around the walkway to the memory lab.
This time, Prue was quicker with the equipment.
“I hope it’s something exotic.” Luella giggled.
“Keep still. When you laugh, the emotion signal goes wild. Almost there.” Prue isolated the memory wave. She wondered if this time more might be revealed.
After a few moments, Luella blinked. “Well, I’ll be darned. My name is Edith Scamp.” Then she giggled. “I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, Prue, but it wasn’t Edith Scamp!”
“Is there anything else?” Prue asked keenly.
“No dear, not a thing. But that feels like quite enough for now!”
“It’s a brilliant name. You sound adventurous,” said Edwin.
“Or perhaps I was a dangerous criminal mastermind!” Luella laughed.
“Maybe we could start looking for other Scamps in Medlock? Or Swifts? You might have living relatives!” said Prue.
“Family?” Luella said, shocked. “I should like that. Although, I’m not sure what they’d make of having a pigeon as a relative!”
*
Back at the house, Prue and Edwin found Agapantha in the bedroom and made sure she was alone. Prue sat down opposite her with Edwin.
“What’s going on?” said Agapantha.
“I want to say sorry. I’ve not been very much of a friend at all lately. Since the harnessing, then the trap, I thought it would be better if I just went it alone and focused on what I came here to do.” She took a breath.
“Over a year ago my older brother died. We were close and did everything together. He was a better mechanic than me.”
Agapantha’s shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry. It must’ve been so hard for you to lose him so young,” said Agapantha. “I’ve never had any brother or sisters, but I can imagine it’s heartbreaking.”
Prue could feel the crack in her heart. “There’s one other small detail,” she said. “When Craftsman Primrose visited the farm to offer an apprenticeship, I pretended to be him. Or, at least, Frances. Francis was his name. Mine’s Prue. I came here to find a way back to him.”
“Crikey, Frances!” she looked over her shoulder to make sure no one else had come into the room. “I mean, Prue,” she whispered. “Although, I’m not sure on one thing,”
There was an awkward pause.
“I can’t see that he was a better mechanic than you, because I refuse to believe that’s possible.”
Prue smiled and took a breath. “I’ve got something else to tell you.” She explained about the adapted GODAR and how it revealed the first life names.
“Meet Jack Swift,” said Edwin proudly, taking a bow.
Agapantha was wide-eyed. “It seems I’m the only one without a new name!”
“That’s because you’ve already got the best name in the house. We need to keep this all top secret,” Prue said seriously. “It’s going to take lots more research to find a way to Francis. I know the odds are against me, but I need to try. And perhaps there’s a way to read the wildsparks from beyond; we all saw the signals when Master Woolstenbury harnessed the ghost. We may be able to read them and select who comes back.”
“Prue, this is amazing. Can I help? We might be able to improve it, if we all put our minds to it,” said Agapantha.
“I can show you my memory lab at the Guild tomorrow, if you’d like? Everything is hidden over there, and it’s where we can work in secret.”
“Memory lab?” Agapantha said in awe.
“It sounds grander than it is. It’s really just the end storage room on the design lab corridor.”
They heard shuffling outside and fell silent.
The door swung open. It was Cora.
“What are you three up to?”
“Just chatting about Sahwen. It’s next weekend, you know,” said Agapantha, flashing the others a quick grin. “We were just saying that we still haven’t sorted out what to wear.”
Cora breezed over to the wardrobe. “I know the feeling. I have to choose between six outfits.” She took one out and held it against her. “I overheard Queen Adelaide say there has been another sighting of a weird creature in the streets of Medlock. Something with horns, apparently.”
“Horns?” said Edwin, throwing Prue and Agapantha a frown.
Prue knew he was thinking of what she’d seen the night of the spirit lights.
“Strange,” Prue said, giving a sly sideways glance in Cora’s direction. She was certainly trying to press their buttons. “Anyway, what are we going to wear to Sahwen?”
Agapantha stood up. “I can’t believe we forgot. Come on, there’s still time to go to the shops before sundown.”
Edwin jumped from the bed. “We’d best get going then.”
STAG-MAN
“So, this is where you’ve been sneaking off to,” Agapantha said, looking around the memory lab.
Prue went to her hiding place and opened the box. Her heart missed a beat. “It’s disappeared!” The GODAR was there, but her journal had gone.
“What?” said Edwin, hurrying over.
“My journal – it’s got all my notes on restoring memories! Check the other boxes!” said Prue.
“But no one knew about any of this, apart from us three and Luella.”
Prue put her hand to her mouth.
“What?” Edwin urged her.
“Cora; when she came back yesterday. What if she heard more than we thought before she came into the room?”
“You should search her things back at the house later,” said Edwin.
&nb
sp; Prue stood up. “Or now.”
They hurried back along the corridor.
“Halt!” someone called.
They looked up to see Sollentude on the staircase below. He narrowed his eyes. “Well, this is timely; Master White has decided on a suitable consequence for your antics in the forest. Some of the apprentices have been clearing out the archive rooms to facilitate the harnessing of the hundred and there is all manner of old machinery for oiling, cleaning and testing. It’s now your responsibility.” He smiled meanly. “It’s been sent over to the shed.”
They exchanged looks of despair.
“Well? What are you waiting for?”
*
The machinery was a tangled pile of metal.
Prue felt a tightness in her chest at not being able to go and find her journal straight away, but there was nothing she could do. “Come on. The sooner we get stuck in, the sooner we finish,” she said.
“These things look ancient,” said Agapantha. “My parents would have these in a museum.”
But to Prue there was a certain beauty in the broken. “There’s nothing wrong with them. With a bit of adapting and imagination they can become whatever you’d like them to be,” she said, recognizing some as similar to those they used at home. “This hasn’t been touched for a year, maybe two.” Prue pulled a hunk of metal from the pile. “It’s just like the hoppity wrench we have at the farm!”
It had completely seized and was battered and bent, but she instructed the others on which tools to fetch and they began untangling the pile and laying out the parts on the ground beside the vegetable patch. Prue found some oil in the shed and Agapantha and Edwin started helping her clean and grease the joints of the hoppity wrench, while she reconnected and straightened components. When they had finished, Prue rooted around in the shed and found an ion battery plate.
“It’s had a rough life, but you never know,” she said, slotting it into place.
Nothing happened.
“Well, that was a waste of time.” Edwin huffed.
Then there was a whirr of cogs within and a squeak as the hoppity wrench slowly bobbed down, then straightened.
“Wait, it’s the restrainer!” Prue unhitched it.
Its legs suddenly sprang into action and it dipped up and down a few times, making them laugh, then with unexpected speed, it hopped off towards the orchard.
