Wildspark

by Vashti Hardy

  Agapantha’s heart began racing; everyone was going to be looking out the front in the direction of the messenger tower, where she needed to be. But there was no time to worry; she’d have to cross that bridge when she came to it. She slipped quietly up the stairs at the side of the atrium as everyone made their way to the front steps, then ran along the corridor to the memory lab and gathered the equipment.

  She opened the window, inhaled several deep breaths, then lowered the bag of equipment on a rope. With shaking legs, she climbed down the fire escape ladder, then snatched up the bag of equipment and ran around the back of the factorium, stopping at the front-west corner of the building to check if the coast was clear. There were people everywhere! If she ran now, she’d be seen for sure. What could she do?

  Then, operatic singing, as crystalline as ice, rang through the air. Cora was standing near the fountain, singing the anthem of Medlock at the top of her voice.

  Every head swung in her direction and people flocked towards her. Cora glanced in her direction and winked.

  Agapantha blinked. Cora was helping her! She looked at her watch – nine-thirty.

  Without thinking, she dashed towards the tower.

  *

  The stag-men filed out of the abandoned village and into the night, marching in a uniform beat, feet crunching and pounding the snow of the forgotten streets.

  Prue and Edwin told Craftsman Primrose they would follow at the back to make sure that the stag-men stayed in line. Prue hardly took her eyes from Francis. She sidled as close to him as she could and whispered, “It’s going to be all right, I’ll get you home, we’ll fix this.” But he just stared blankly ahead. It felt a punch to her very heart. As they left the building, Prue glanced at her watch: nine thirty.

  Primrose ordered the stag-men into ten rows of ten. They were a terrifying sight, standing in the deserted streets, their imposing machine bodies and antlers bathed in the eerie reddish-orange light of the blood moon.

  Primrose addressed them. “I am your master and you are here with one purpose: to take the Guild for our own. Without me you are slaves to a system which values only those in their first lives. Those at the Guild bring spirits into this world in order to do their bidding, to serve and exist for the good of those in their first life. You are in your second life, you are the power. They are nothing like you. On my command – forward!”

  The stag-men marched, legs and arms in time. Prue glanced at Edwin and they followed.

  “Give it a minute,” she said. “As soon as we’re among the dense trees we’ll be able to break away more easily – Primrose will be leading, so hopefully he’ll be too busy looking forward to notice. If we head southwest, we should hit the back of the factorium and be able to get to the tower before they make it through the forest. If we can run fast enough.” She prayed that they could.

  Edwin nodded.

  After a minute of trudging along, they hung back. Then, with a nod of agreement, they sped away from the group.

  Brambles scratched and tore at Prue’s clothes as she ran, her throat stinging from gasping the cold air. She kept her eyes focused on Edwin leaping in front. She could still hear the stealthy rhythm of the stag-men’s footsteps in the distance. Somewhere above the trees, lights erupted in the night sky, making Prue flinch.

  “It’s just fireworks. Must be part of the events,” Edwin called.

  She tried to push thoughts of Francis stuck in that terrible body out of her mind. She’d find a way to get him out and into something else. She had to – she couldn’t lose him again. But they had to reach the tower before it was too late.

  The trees opened up and they were suddenly in the vegetable patch behind the factorium. They sped onwards.

  *

  Agapantha connected the machinery and angled the transmitter. Cora was still singing alongside the fireworks, which were reaching a dramatic crescendo.

  She prayed that she had got the calculations right and that it would work. She took her notepad from her jacket pocket and double checked them, just in case.

  As the final fireworks exploded, she glanced out of the window, even though the height of the tower made her head swim. But this was too important to let that get in the way.

  Then she dropped her notebook to the floor – at the forest edge, an orderly group of great antler headed figures emerged, almost as though the forest itself had come to life and the trees had broken free from their roots to march on the factorium. They trudged forward, unseen, as the crowd whooped at the last of the fireworks. Agapantha stared in horror. There were so many of them.

  She snapped herself out of it, then furiously finished checking the dials and readings, just as the last of the stag-men filtered on to the great lawn.

  Ten orderly lines of stag-men stood on the white lawn of the factorium with Craftsman Primrose at the front.

  Like a ripple fading in a lake, the crowd below fell silent as they saw what was before them.

  *

  As they rounded the west side of the factorium, the burn in Prue’s legs made her want to collapse, but somehow she forced them to keep going.

  The fireworks had stopped. The crowd was silent in shock. She heard the voice of Primrose boom across the field.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, now that we have your undivided attention, it is time for a new order of events to unfold.”

  “Quick, Ed, you’re faster!” Prue panted.

  Edwin bounded towards the messenger tower.

  Up above, Agapantha’s hand wavered. She glanced quickly at her watch. Prue had said nine forty-five, hadn’t she? She moved her finger down towards the button.

  “Stop!” Edwin called, as he flew into the room.

  Agapantha whipped her head around.

  “Edwin?”

  “It’s Francis, Prue’s brother – we accidentally harnessed him!”

  “What?” Agapantha said, aghast.

  “He’s one of the stag-men!”

  “Were we too late?” Prue said desperately as she ran into the room and fell to her knees at the top of the staircase, her voice hoarse from the cold and her legs unable to take another step.

  “No, they’re still there,” said Edwin.

  Prue crawled to the window. She had no idea which of the stag-men was Francis.

  The three of them watched from the tower as Master Woolstenbury walked confidently to stand before Primrose.

  “Surrender in peace, or my army will advance and rip apart anyone in their way,” said Primrose.

  “Charles, what exactly is going on? What are you trying to achieve?” Master Woolstenbury sounded shocked, but her voice remained forceful.

  “We are here to take the Guild for our own, and the Sovereign Chancellery with it. You’ve made every decision for personifates for eighteen years; it’s time to redress the balance.”

  “Charles, you know very well that I can’t just hand over the Guild to you. Come and talk, we can sort things out. Whatever you have become so aggrieved about can be addressed.”

  He shook his head. “I tried to talk, eight years ago.”

  “Eight years ago? What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you remember? You told me I showed such promise. It turns out you were right.”

  Master Woolstenbury took a step backwards. She put her hand to her mouth. “It can’t be?”

  The rest of the masters joined Master Woolstenbury, and a line of personifates formed to the sides of them: Zareen, the guard bear personifates, a winged wolf and Gisella the golden eagle.

  “Charles? What’s going on?” said Master White.

  “Amelia, this is your final chance. You and the masters need to surrender the Guild. I don’t want to harm you unless I have to.” He raised an arm and the first line of the stag-men took a step forward.

  Master White looked at Master Woolstenbury.

  “We can’t let you take the Guild,” Master Woolstenbury said firmly.

  “In a way, I was hoping you’d say that.” Craftsman Primro
se let his arm fall; the stag-men began their advance. Master Woolstenbury nodded to Zareen and the lynx personifate surged forwards, followed by the other personifates in line.

  “The rest of you get back inside the factorium!” Master Woolstenbury shouted to the crowd behind.

  Zareen reached the first stag-man and leapt for it, but it caught her around the throat and threw her to the ground. She cried out and scrambled backwards. The black bear and Master Sollentude both ran towards the same stag-man, Sollentude brandishing a spade as a makeshift weapon. The winged wolf took flight with the eagle and they soared above, then pitched into a dive attacking from above, claws bared, but the antlers were impossible to get through, and the eagle took a nasty tear to her chest. The bear reared on its hind legs and brought the weight of its body on to one of the stag-men, knocking it back, but it kicked the bear away like a puppy. Sollentude ducked, dived and lurched with the spade as one tried to grab him. It swiped and just caught him, so a strip of red appeared on his face.

  Prue looked on in horror as the dark figures collided on the moonlit lawn. The Guild personifates and masters were no match for the stag-men. What sort of life was this for her brother? Brought back to be a killer? And what was her brother’s second life to be, in this machine? She remembered her mother’s warning with horror: he had become the monster her mother had feared. And what would become of her parents if Primrose got his way? She took the transmitter from her bag and carefully checked the switch was still down. She looked back at the stag-men.

  And in that moment, she realized what she had to do.

  “Agapantha, get down there and make sure every one of the Guild personifates return to the factorium – now!”

  She nodded and ran downstairs.

  “Ed, help me make sure the parabolic reflector is angled to get all of the stag-men.”

  She watched from the window as Agapantha emerged from the tower below.

  “Agapantha! Stay back!” yelled Master White, as soon as she caught sight of Agapantha running towards her. Prue could barely make out their hurried conversation in the darkness. Then Master White stepped back and called out, “Personifates, stand down! Get back to the factorium, that’s an order!”

  Master Woolstenbury was further away with Zareen, facing one of the stag-men and Charles Primrose. She stared at Master White, confused, a suspicious frown on her brow.

  “It’s no good, the personifates must retreat!” Master White called to her. “Trust me, please!”

  The bear, winged wolf and eagle obeyed.

  “Ed, is it ready?” Prue asked desperately.

  “Yes, but Zareen is in range.”

  Master Woolstenbury gave Zareen the signal to fall back. Zareen waivered, then ran. As she did, the stag-man grabbed Master Woolstenbury by the throat.

  Prue looked at the stag-men. Francis was there somewhere. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Francis. I’m so sorry.” Her finger hovered over the button and, for a terrible moment, she didn’t know whether she could do it.

  Then she felt a paw on her knee. Edwin nodded at her.

  She closed her eyes.

  CHARLES PRIMROSE

  Francis smiled at Prue, even though he was so weak that he could barely breathe.

  “Hey … be brave… Everything will be all right.” He spoke in starts when he was having trouble breathing. Prue couldn’t speak for fear she’d start sobbing and then she wouldn’t be able to stop.

  “Thought it might be a good moment … to tell Mum about … whose fault the scar really was.”

  She glanced at his brown eyes, the scar, his brow beaded with sweat.

  He winked. “Kidding, Sis.”

  “You better be.” She smiled.

  “And that time you … made me go on to the roof.”

  “That was you!”

  “Was it?” he said with a wry smile. “Take care of that hoppity wrench … won’t you?”

  Prue, Dad and Mum took it in turns to stave off the fever with cold flannels and sleep. The doctor said nothing could be done, but Prue hoped with every fibre of her body until that very last moment that she was wrong.

  It happened during the night. Mum and Dad were asleep, Mum in the chair and Dad with his head resting on Mum’s leg. Prue was lying on the bed beside her brother when the silence she feared most in the world fell.

  *

  Prue pressed the button.

  There was a sonic whoosh of air, as the pulse radiated towards the stag-men.

  Prue forced her eyes open. Like dominoes, the stag-men fell, from one line to the next. As each dropped, it stabbed her heart, like watching Francis die all over again, the pain hot and fierce as lava. As the last line fell, Prue looked for Primrose, but couldn’t see him. Had he run? She rushed from the window, down the stairs and from the tower towards the fallen stag-men. She nudged the bodies, checking their spirits were gone, until she saw why Primrose had seemingly disappeared.

  He too had collapsed with the blast.

  She crouched beside him. “Craftsman Primrose?”

  He wasn’t moving. What had happened?

  A few metres away, Master Woolstenbury was pushing herself up from where the stag-man had dropped her. She stared at Primrose.

  Edwin and Agapantha rushed over.

  “What’s the matter with him?” Edwin said.

  Master Woolstenbury signalled to Master Sollentude. “Check these creatures have really all gone.”

  Master White stumbled over to them, her face pallid. “Charles?” she said.

  “Help me roll him on to his side,” said Master Woolstenbury. Prue and Agapantha helped her, then Master Woolstenbury carefully lifted his clothing. “Get me a spirit lamp!”

  Edwin ran to fetch one and Master Woolstenbury examined Craftsman Primrose. A faint line ran down his side.

  Prue could hardly believe it. “He was a personifate!”

  “It certainly seems so,” said Master Woolstenbury, glancing at her.

  “What?” said Edwin aghast.

  Master White fell to her knees beside the empty shell of Charles Primrose and put a shaking hand to the side seam. “What in all of Medlock?” she said, her voice barely audible. A tear reflected like a moonlit stream on her cheek.

  “Wait,” Prue said, looking around. “Where’s Finblewick?”

  “Finblewick? Perhaps you four better come inside and explain exactly what’s been happening,” said Master Woolstenbury.

  “Is everything all right now, Master Woolstenbury?” Governor Watson-Wentworth called from the factorium door. “I was about to step in, of course.”

  “Thank you, Governor, it’s all under control. I suggest everyone returns to the atrium and I’ll send for some warm drinks … and perhaps a dash of rum,” she added under her breath. She turned to the three of them. “I will arrange a search for Finblewick and do what I can to appease the Governor, then I expect you all in my office in fifteen minutes.” She strode back towards the factorium.

  Master White remained staring in disbelief at the body of Charles Primrose. “He was a personifate?”

  Prue nodded, still barely able to comprehend it herself. But her mind was also on her parents. “Master White, I’m sorry, I know this must be awful for you, but it’s not over. There is still one stag-man left. Primrose sent it to my farm. It was why we couldn’t say anything to you; he was going to attack them if he received a signal from this.” She held up the transmitter. “We managed to steal it from Primrose, but the stag-man is still there. I need to get to my parents as soon as possible.”

  She looked at her in disbelief, then nodded. “Of course. We should talk to Master Woolstenbury.”

  “Please, I can’t wait – I need to leave now.”

  “It’s quite out of the question; I can’t possibly let you face one of them alone. We can catch the early morning Gigantrak and…”

  Prue shook her head emphatically. “I need to get there tonight. What if it decides to attack them regardless?”

/>   “And how do you propose to get there?”

  “The night Gigantrak maybe, I don’t know!”

  Agapantha stepped forward. “It’s too late to catch the Gigantrak. But I have an idea that requires your help, Master White.” Agapantha looked at Prue and Edwin. “Do you remember we had that conversation with Craftsman Primrose in the library about transferring spirits between bodies, and he said the Guild had tried it before?”

  Master White frowned. “What are you getting at, Apprentice Young?”

  “Craftsman Shad has a very impressive flying lion in the design studio. It could get to Prue’s farm in no time.”

  “Could we still harness some qwortzite under the moon?” Prue said eagerly.

  “The only available qwortzite is in those fallen machines. We’d need to test it before reharnessing, and there wouldn’t be time. I’m afraid the only possibility at this moment is to send someone who’s already here, and that’s quite out of the question.”

  Silence fell for a moment, then Edwin said boldly, “I could do it.”

  “Oh no, we’d be breaking at least seven Sovereign Chancellery rules,” said Master White.

  “I think we may have broken quite a few already this evening, Master White,” Agapantha said quietly.

  Master White fixed Edwin with her stare. “And there’s the chance of things going wrong in the procedure, the risk of losing the frequency altogether, let alone what it may do to your psyche to move bodies. You may not realize how much your mind and body are intrinsically linked now.”

  “But it has been done successfully before? Without losing the second life memories?” said Edwin.

  “There were some developments around thirteen years ago when we were experimenting with transferring qwortzite. It’s not the same as harnessing a new wildspark – the frequency is already retained in the qwortzite – therefore the second life memory isn’t broken and should remain. Indeed, the Guild managed to change a few personifates and keep their memories intact, but I must reiterate that there is still the risk of momentarily disrupting the signal. The research wasn’t extensive because Master Woolstenbury realized the stress of having new bodies was too difficult, so the Chancellor and the Guild decided to stop the practice.”