The Secrets of Blood and Bone

by Rebecca Alexander

  “Back!” I shouted, waving my branch. The fuse burned slowly, the flame shivering in the air then running like a golden thread up the spiral edge. Enrico did not hear me, or did not understand and howled in return. He crouched upon the top of the waterfall before leaping in a prodigious bound, like a deer off a crag, landing just on the very bank of the water. His shriek of defiance made me stagger back, and, in scant time, I hurled the lit parcel at the deranged moor.

  The fuse caught as it flew toward him, the explosion sending us both tumbling and a sheet of flame flaring between us. I saw, when the smoke dissipated, fragments of burning paper falling around us, and Enrico kneeling, his hair on fire. He screamed, the unknowing cry of an injured animal, and fell back into the water.

  I bolted, grasping my staff in one hand, stuffing my remaining powders into my waistband within my shirt as I went, trying to recall another spell as Dee had described it. I knew I would need to cast it while standing still and facing the thing that was once a learned and courteous man. I staggered into a glade, and turned to see Enrico, limping and using his hands upon the ground like an ape or monkey, leaping toward me. I set my staff in the ground and let him run on, hoping to impale him, but, alas, he divined my purpose and threw himself upon me instead. He trapped my knife against my body and tore at my shoulder with his teeth like a starving dog. I screamed, finding the words I needed within that cry of agony and fear, and the pink flames arose about my body, engulfing the creature. He sprang back, for what beast does not, before the inferno?

  Chanting to continue the flames, I stared at the shadows within the sockets of his skull where I fancied red sparks glowed back. The spell the Contarinis had used had awakened a fiend within him. He stalked around the small circle of flame, growling. I thought frantically, trying to recall some counterspell that would reawaken his humanity. Perhaps prayer—but when I stopped saying the words the fire would wither and he would attack. Conjuration? Exorcism? I realized that neither would work if the creature that snarled and drooled at the thought of rending my limbs asunder was part of the human soul. The spell of negation of magic? It would certainly destroy the flames, but perhaps it could bring Enrico back to his senses by killing the transformation spell they must have worked upon him.

  I chanted the fox-fire spell under my breath, as I reached inside my shirt for the remaining powders—pitiful. I had the remaining brimstone, powdered iron, a mixture I carry to deter bed bugs, and dried agrimony to bind the flux should I eat bad meat. And salt, yes, salt can confine a creature that is unnatural—but I had no idea if it could revert Enrico. I scattered the iron and salt together within the circle of fire and hoped there would be enough magnetism within the iron to work. With the end of my stick I traced the symbols of the angels’ protection, and said the words.

  Nothing happened, except my protective ring of flames died.

  “Enrico,” I intoned in my best stage voice. “Let man overcome beast!”

  The words had no magical power, but he didn’t know that. For a moment, some confusion crossed his face, his eyes fell to his contorted hands, which were shaped into talons, and he froze. He stared first at his claws, then at me, some frown upon his features in the bright moonlight. He glanced up, then stared transfixed at the silver orb above us. A grin twisted his face, and he looked at me, his head cocked upon one side like a dog, nay, a wolf. He gathered himself from his haunches like a hound, and, with inhuman strength, bounded the four or five yards between us. I saw the shape, but only his white teeth and the red eyes held my attention as they flew toward me. I stumbled away, crying out, “Jesu, save me!” before his claws gripped my throat and all went black.

  Chapter 35

  PRESENT DAY: LAKE DISTRICT

  The scent of the old witch is fading. Only on the hives is it strong, where she spat on her hands and smeared the old slats with herself, before hiding that thing that smells of every witch the garden has known.

  Jack had the raven sitting calmly on the edge of the chair within a few feet of her when Felix opened the door. The bird flapped over her head, brushing her face with threadbare flight feathers, and screeching as if it were being murdered.

  Felix staggered back against the wall. “Bloody hell, it’s huge!”

  She had forgotten he hadn’t seen the bird before. It stretched out its neck and cawed at him again.

  “I know, I know, he’s an idiot,” Jack soothed. “Shush, chick, it’s all right.” Jack glared at Felix. “You could have knocked.”

  “I just went to look at the body.” He seemed wound up with excitement. “Maggie and Sadie covered it with foliage yesterday and it’s almost gone. Sadie sat there talking to it—at least that’s what she called it. Somehow, it’s just being sucked into the ground by the tons of biomass in the soil.”

  “Well, Maggie said it would.” Jack clicked her tongue softly to the bird, watching him put his head on one side then the other. “Be very quiet and still for a moment.”

  The bird shuffled its feathers with a sound like dry leaves, then dropped them back into a sleek shell. It glanced at Felix and hissed, then stepped forward, waddling on the paper, and looked up at her. After maybe a minute of Jack holding her breath, she reached out a hand as if she had done it a thousand times before. She could see the bird measuring height and distance, assessing whether it was safe. Just before she dropped her arm under its own weight the bird half unfolded its wings, hopped once, and landed heavily on Jack’s forearm. Its talons curved cruelly around her arm, and it struggled to keep its balance, leaving the wings open a little. It swiveled its head to stare at Jack and croaked. She grinned, looking up at Felix, her eyes suddenly blurred with tears.

  “He did it!”

  Felix, who had his back pressed against the door, didn’t seem all that impressed. “Put it down. It could peck you in the eye.”

  “Oh, you clever, clever boy,” she crooned to the bird, reaching with the other hand very slowly. For a moment the huge beak was poised as if he would peck it, then he lost his nerve and launched itself off her arm to the floor.

  “Are you going to keep it as a pet?”

  “He’s a wild bird,” Jack said, wiping her hands on a rag she had hung on the chair. “But he’s probably too familiar with humans to go back to the wild. Maybe a sanctuary that already has ravens will be able to take him. That’s not what I’m worried about. I just wonder why an elderly lady with all sorts of health problems had him in the first place.”

  “How are you feeling?” His change of tone knocked her off balance.

  “Oh. Fine. Bruised.”

  “You were nearly raped.” He looked as if he were struggling to say the word. “And someone was killed in front of you by a pack of wolves.”

  She shrugged. “Nearly raped. There’s the difference, Felix; I got away. And Powell got what he deserved.” She walked to the door, and he moved aside so she could open it. When he put a hand out to her, she jumped back at the approach. Her heart suddenly faltered in her chest and she took a deep breath.

  “So you’re OK, then?” His voice was low, his mouth tight.

  Her heart was hammering uncomfortably under her ribs. “Maybe I’m not, but I’m getting there. A few nightmares, a few intrusive memories, that’s all.” Powell’s hands crushing her into the ground, every fingertip leaving a bruise that told the story over her body. Felix had seen that, he had comforted and cared for her. No wonder he was worried. She leaned a little closer. “Look, after all this is over, I’ll sit down and gibber about it for a few weeks. But right now, I’m worried about finding the book, and this potion we’re supposed to be making for the boy up at the castle, and the dead man in the garden—”

  He opened the door, and followed her onto the landing. “I just want to be able to help you, and you won’t go near me. This is the first time I’ve been alone with you since that night.”

  Her phone beeped, and vibrated in her pocket. “I’m not avoiding you, but such a lot is going on.” She glanced down at he
r phone. “Oh, shit, Maggie’s lost Sadie.”

  “She’s a teenager, she’s probably seen something she likes in a shop.”

  Jack ignored him, phoning Maggie back. “What’s happening?”

  She listened to Maggie’s explanation.

  “So she needed to be in the car, anyway, for the circles.” Jack looked at Felix, her forehead creased. “She wouldn’t just wander off.”

  He stood beside her to catch Maggie’s tinny words. They carried a note of panic.

  “I found the keys a bit farther down in the gutter. But I can’t see Sadie anywhere, and no one in the shops around here has seen her either.”

  “Who would—” Jack stared up at Felix. “The Dannicks want to put pressure on us.”

  “Sadie could already be dead. And we did meet Callum, in one of the shops.” Maggie’s distant voice sounded frantic. “What do we do?”

  Jack looked up at Felix. “The Dannicks may have kidnapped Sadie.” She turned back to the phone. “I’ll meet you at Maisie’s. Sadie’s stronger than she looks, and she has a dose of potion with her. She should be OK for a few hours. They’ll soon see how ill she is.”

  “OK. The shops all know her and I’ve given them my number.” Maggie sounded a little calmer. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

  Jack ended the call and turned to Felix. “We need Maggie to talk to Maisie. Sadie’s so vulnerable out of the circles; you saw her the other night. I should never have let her go out…”

  He started down the stairs. “We can call the Dannicks. Then we’ll go over there and get her. We only have to threaten them with the police—”

  “Wait.” Jack hesitated, looking down at him. “It’s not as if we can storm in there threatening to call the police. Sadie doesn’t exist, officially. Neither do I. And we have no proof that they have her.”

  “Who else would take her?” He stared up at her. “Look, what could they possibly want? The potion they keep talking about, that book. They don’t want to harm Sadie: she’s their leverage.”

  “We’ve cleared, what, a quarter of the garden? We don’t know where to look for the beehives. Sadie doesn’t have days while we look for the book, and then find all the ingredients and make the potion.” She followed him down the stairs, and he bundled her into a warm jacket. “Wait a minute, Felix.”

  “What?” He followed her into the kitchen. “We need to get there.”

  She poured a whole pan of cooling decoction into a bottle. “OK. Let’s go and talk to the Dannicks. But first we need to meet Maggie at Maisie’s house. Then we can get them to find the book so we have something to bargain with.”

  —

  Maisie would only talk to them in person; it was as if she didn’t trust the phone. Jack drove Felix to her house, tapping the wheel at every red light or junction, her heart racing at the need to do something, anything. The memory of Sadie slumped at the table kept intruding on her thoughts.

  Maggie had parked down the road. Maisie was at home and ignored Jack and Felix. “Magpie,” she said at the door, with acid disapproval. “You want the book.”

  “Don’t Magpie me, you old crone,” Maggie snapped back. “Sadie is in danger; we need Thomazine’s recipe and we need it now.”

  The sneering smile dropped from Maisie’s face. “The child? You let the Dannicks get her?”

  Maggie flushed, her neck going red. Jack intervened. “Just tell us, Maisie, we’re running out of time.”

  “I told you, it’s hidden at the back of the garden.” Maisie straightened herself up, looking at Felix. “This is women’s business, what’s he doing here?”

  “He’s an expert on magic,” Jack snapped, “and he cares about Sadie.”

  Maisie seemed to wrestle with herself for a moment, then turned to Jack. “It’s under the hives, girl, that’s where we put it. They are beside the old damson. I can show you where it is, it’ll let me in. I planted some of those trees with Ellen, the garden knows me.”

  Jack turned to Maggie. “Take Maisie to the cottage and start on the garden. We need the book right now.”

  “Do you have any idea what that potion does?” The old woman’s eyes were unblinking, staring straight at Jack. “Ellen didn’t refuse for no good reason. That boy is better off dead than saved by that ritual.”

  Jack winced. “Look, let’s just get Sadie back in one piece, shall we? Then we can worry about Callum.”

  She raced for the car, closely followed by Felix, who muttered something.

  “What?” she said, as the older women fastened seat belts in the back of the car.

  “How much time does she have?”

  “More if we get her the potion.” She was forced to wait behind a bus at lights, swearing under her breath.

  “But out of the circles?”

  The air rushed out of Jack in a moment as she counted the minutes and hours away from the sigils. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

  The unspoken truth hung between them. Sadie could already be dying, or dead.

  —

  Jack pulled up in front of the castle in a spray of gravel and was out of the car almost before it stopped. She ran into the reception lobby, and pushed straight through the door marked “Private,” where Sir Henry had taken her before.

  “Dannick!” she shouted, hearing Felix argue with someone behind him.

  She threw open the first door she found, then another. Both rooms were empty.

  “Sadie!”

  “Can I help you?” It was a cold voice, coming from up the stairs, and Jack turned to see a woman in jodhpurs and riding boots looking down at her. She was tall, maybe six feet, and had her blond hair twisted back in an elaborate bun. “You seem to be lost.”

  “I’m not lost. Where’s Dannick?” Jack put a foot on the bottom tread.

  “Well, I’m a Dannick, but I suppose you mean my father, Sir Henry. He’s busy.” She stepped down another stair. “So you’d better deal with me. What is this nonsense?”

  “You have Sadie. Sasha, whatever. The girl.”

  “Really? I think if that was the case, you would be at home making the potion for Callum.” She started to walk down the steps.

  “It’s not that easy. It will take time, time Sadie doesn’t have.”

  The woman’s lips curved into a smile without humor. “Time Callum doesn’t have. She won’t make it if Callum dies.”

  “She will if you want your fucking potion.”

  The woman paused in her descent. “You have the book? Excellent. Then I’m sure we can do an equitable exchange.”

  Jack could feel Felix step up behind her rather than hear him, and his presence calmed her down. “You must understand, the garden is completely overgrown. It’s taking time.”

  “My father will be available to speak to you this evening. Nine o’clock. When you will have the potion, finished and ready for Callum.” Jack caught her breath, fighting an impulse to charge past the woman. When she started to move she saw a shift in the woman’s expression. “My son, Ms. Hammond, as I’m sure you understand, is dying. Time is important; he may not survive another month. One more chest infection—” A fleeting emotion crossed her face. “He’s my only child.”

  Jack lifted the bottle out of her pocket. “Sadie needs this, every three hours. If you don’t look after Sadie, I will make sure Callum doesn’t make it.” She rummaged in another pocket for a marker pen. “And she needs this. Do you understand?”

  The woman reached the bottom of the stairs, and took the bottle and pen. “If you aren’t here by nine o’clock this evening, it’s possible neither of them will make it. Do you understand?”

  Short of storming past the woman and searching the entire castle, Jack couldn’t think of anything else to do. She glanced up the stairs to see two men standing there, both young, both looking capable of stopping her even trying to get past. Jack turned on her heel and stalked past Felix. She could hear his voice behind her, barking orders at the woman.

  “I want Sadie to phone this nu
mber in the next five minutes or we are not leaving, and yes, I will get the police myself. Do you understand?”

  Jack ran through the lobby and out to the car, staring up at the windows of the castle. They stared back, reflecting the gray sky beyond, and the park in front of the house. She could feel her breath catching in her throat with a new rage as Felix joined her. He wrapped his arms around her and for a moment she clung to him, letting her racing heart slow a little.

  The ringing of her phone made her jump.

  “Jack?” Sadie’s voice was a thin croak. “I’m OK. I got the potion. And the pen. I managed to make a circle.”

  “Good girl. We’re going to come and get you, don’t worry. It will be fine. Felix and I will work it out.”

  She could hear Sadie choking for a moment, then gasping. “I need to go back to the room,” she said to someone away from the phone.

  “Satisfied?” It was the woman, and Jack’s fingers tightened on her phone until the casing crackled under the strain. “You have just over eight hours.”

  Chapter 36

  I am an alchemist, I understand the transformation of base metals to pure metals. But the degradation of man made in God’s image, to vile beast, I shall never forget.

  —EDWARD KELLEY, 1586, Venice

  When I came to my senses, I lay upon the grass under a tree, the sky filled with stars so beautiful I could have cried. There was no sound, no snarling or movement, and I still breathed. I raised my head cautiously, not knowing if it was broken, or my neck, but all seemed sound. One gasp, and the agony in my torn shoulder filled my world with fire. It subsided to a throbbing agony and I looked about me.