by June Wilson
*
Toby and Alice followed Martha across the dark fields towards the canal. After a minor fit of the sulks, Jess had decided to come too. She said she knew far more about Madame Varia than anyone else and wasn’t about to take orders from some pastry chef. Toby suspected that Martha didn’t care whether Jess took any notice of her or not. The Guardian was all business, making sure they kept to the shadows and continually checking they had no one on their tail.
They’d reached the towpath by now and it was slick with mud. A full moon was reflected in the inky depths of the canal. Up ahead there was a low stone bridge and beyond that, a series of locks – the same locks where the dead boy had been found.
“Be careful here,” Martha warned, turning towards the bridge. “And keep close.”
“Where do you think we’re going?” Alice whispered.
“No idea.” Toby steered her round a huge puddle. “But Martha seems to know what she’s doing.”
“She’s bossy,” Jess sniffed. “Just like Iris.”
“Well if she is, I’m sure we’ll find Will,” Toby said. He was feeling guilty for doubting Martha. He knew she’d been hiding something, but it had turned out to be something personal and he should be the last person to resent that. He didn’t exactly go round advertising the fact that his real father had been a treacherous Hilderinc.
“We’ll try here first.” Martha drew to a halt and pointed to a low, squat building just past the bridge. “Toby – come with me. Alice and Jess, wait outside in case there’s any sign of Will.”
Toby didn’t like to leave Alice behind but he wasn’t about to argue with Martha either. The Guardian made short work of a rusty padlock on the door and he followed her inside. Moonlight filtered through a single barred window and he could see coils of rope and a long-handled tool with a cruel-looking hook on the end. A couple of heavy-duty coats hung by the door.
“What is this place?” he said.
“Used by the lock keepers for storage.” Martha checked under a wooden bench that ran along one wall. “I know Will comes here sometimes, when he’s keeping out of Molly’s way. But there’s no sign he’s been here recently.” She sounded disappointed.
“Is there anywhere else he could go? When he told me about his friend, he said they went to a special place. It sounded like a house to me. He said they had stuff to eat and drink – they wouldn’t be able to do that here, would they?”
Martha frowned. “Well, there is the lock keeper’s cottage. It’s about another half mile further on. But it seems unlikely.”
“Why’s that?”
“Albert Smith is why – the head lock keeper. He spends more time at the bottom of a bottle than he does doing his job. I can’t imagine him letting two young lads play there.”
“But it’s worth a look?”
“Aye, it’s worth a look.”
The cottage was a grim looking place. Set a few paces back from a series of locks known as the weeping widows, its rough-hewn walls were overhung by a wooden roof in a state of disrepair. The small garden was full of weeds and a tangle of overgrown roses. A thin trail of smoke drifted from a single chimney.
“Looks like he’s home,” Toby said.
Martha peered through one of the dark windows. “I can’t see anything. He’s probably drunk himself to sleep and left the fire.”
Toby tried the door. To his surprise, it swung open. Alice had been hanging back with Jess, but now she made to follow him inside.
“I think you should stay out here,” he said, turning to block the way. “Someone needs to keep watch.” He didn’t like the sound of Albert Smith and he didn’t want Alice anywhere near him.
“Oh yes, let the weak little girls do the watching again,” Jess said. “Seriously Toby?”
“Jess is right,” Alice said, folding her arms. “There’s no need to go all protective on me. I’m just as good in a fight as you are, when I have to be.”
“Children!” Martha hissed. “This isn’t the time for arguments. Jessica, you are the least likely to be seen, so you stay on guard.”
Jess scowled but did as she was told. Toby took Alice’s hand and followed Martha down a dark hallway. There was an unpleasant smell – sweet and pungent at the same time. Damp he supposed. Martha had disappeared through a door at the end and suddenly he had a bad feeling about the place – a very bad feeling indeed. He was about to ask Alice if she was getting the same impression when Martha screamed.
“What is it Martha? What’s wrong?” Alice ran off before he could stop her. When he caught up, she saw that Martha was crouched over a log-like object in the middle of the room.
“Oh no!” Alice said, her hand flying to her mouth.
“What? Let me see.” Toby squatted next to Martha. To his horror he saw a severed leg – quite a large leg from the look of it – and definitely human.
“It’s too big to be Will’s isn’t it?” he said, relieved on that score at least. “I suppose it belongs to Albert Smith. I wonder where the rest of him is?”
“Toby!” Alice gave him a half-hearted punch. “It’s not funny. It’s horrible.”
“He’s right though,” Martha said, getting to her feet. “There’s a fair bit of blood around - and slime too. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
“It’s the Nifl demon,” Toby and Alice said at once.
“Aye – I’ve heard of them,” Martha shuddered. “Poor Albert. He wasn’t a bad man, for all his faults. Seems he was in the way.”
“But what about Will?” Alice said. “If that thing’s got him…Toby, what are we going to do?”
“I don’t think the demon will hurt him. Think about it – Madam Varia’s looking for the other boy and Will’s their best bet of finding him. If we can find Madam Varia, we’ll find Will.”
“And how are we going to do that?” Martha said. “She’s no Guardian, I can tell you. Such wickedness.” She shook her head in disgust.
“Jess is how,” Alice said, already making for the door. “And at least this will make her feel useful.”
*
Josh was having a hard time keeping Molly to the confines of her kitchen.
In the interests of trying to calm her down, he said there was a chance Will had gone to the fair by himself, but he could see she wasn’t convinced. He was fast discovering that Molly Watson was smarter than she seemed.
“You’re hiding something – the lot of you,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table. “Relatives from down south – Martha ain’t got any relatives, far as I know - only that sister that ran off. And you’re nothing to do with her, are you?”
“Well no, not exactly.” Josh wished he wasn’t having this conversation and tried to think of ways to change the subject. But Molly wasn’t about to give up.
“Not exactly? You either are or you’re not – which is it?”
He reddened. It was very hard to tell an outright lie. “Um, not. It was a cover story.”
“Cover story, my eye! Lies, is what you mean. I wasn’t bothered at first - it’s not my business if Martha decides to take strangers in. But then you got friendly with our Will and now Will’s gone. An’ I know I said I liked you, but now I wish I hadn’t, because there’s something funny going on and you’re mixed up in it.” Molly glared at him then burst into tears.
More crying – just his luck. Josh wasn’t sure if he should try and comfort her or keep quiet. “Do you want a cup of tea?” he ventured. It seemed that was the way most things got fixed round here.
“No I don’t want a bloody cup of tea.” Molly wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I want you to tell me what’s going on – the truth mind.”
Josh thought fast. He couldn’t tell her about Middengard, or the time travel thing. She wouldn’t believe him and it would just make her more angry. But he could tell her a version of the truth.
“Well, we think someone’s kidnapped Will. We – me, Toby and Alice, that is, we’re kind of investigating.”
Josh shrugged. He wished it were Toby doing the explaining. He’d only heard the story himself an hour ago and it still didn’t make much sense. “Some woman who’s looking for her son. She thinks Will might know something about it.”
“What woman? Why didn’t she just come out and ask him?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You sure you’re not telling more lies just to shut me up?”
“No – honest! Look, you might even know something about it. Will told Toby he’s got a special friend – a boy only he can see. We don’t know if he means the boy is, you know, imaginary, or whether he’s been allowed to play with someone who’s got no other friends. Someone who’s in hiding.”
“Special friend?” Molly rolled her eyes. “That’s our Will all over. Of course it’s imaginary. He’s always making up tales like that. First it was ghosts; now it’s a friend. Though he was right about the ghost, I suppose.”
Josh pricked up his ears. “A ghost? Are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure! A few weeks back, he told me he saw someone who looked like our ma’, standing outside the mill gates. He said she came every Friday. He tried to show me, but there was no one there. But it got me thinking. I thought if ma’ had somehow – you know – come back to us, I might be able to talk to her. That’s why I wanted to go to Madame Varia.” She stared at her hands then looked at him defiantly. “And I did see ma’! I don’t care what any one says - that Madame Varia’s the real thing!”
“Yeah, I’m sure she is.” The real thing at kidnapping, Josh thought. And goodness only knew what else. Unfortunately it seemed that Molly’s thoughts had headed in the same direction.
“You don’t think it’s her that’s taken him, do you? Madam Varia? Maybe she wants to take him to wherever ma’ is, maybe...maybe I should never have gone to the fair – maybe it’s my fault!
Josh reached for her hand across the table. “It’s not your fault Molly, honest. Toby will find him, I promise…hey, what was that?”
“What? I didn’t hear anything.”
Josh frowned. He could have sworn he’d heard the front door open, but there was no one in the small hallway so he must have imagined it. “Nothing - just the wind, I guess.”
Molly sighed and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Despite his assurances, it was clear she was blaming herself. But for all Josh knew, Will’s disappearance could be their fault for turning up in a time and place where they didn’t belong. The thought made him feel slightly sick.
“What’s up?” Molly said, nudging him in the ribs. “It’s me what’s in trouble. You look like you’ve lost a guinea and found a penny, you do.”
“I’m fine,” he said quickly. He wasn’t about to start explaining theories of time that was for sure. “Hey – did you hear that?” A door opening – he definitely wasn’t imagining it this time. “Maybe it’s Will.”
Molly shook her head. “If it was, we’d know about it. He’s the noisiest kid that was ever born.”
“Indeed he is my dear,” a new voice said.
Josh felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. As for Molly, her jaw had literally dropped. There was an exotically dressed woman standing in the kitchen doorway. She was quite old – older than his stepmother anyway – with dark skin and hooded eyes. She was wearing a kaftan and her hair was hidden beneath a turban. But most striking of all was a huge ruby gemstone, which was hanging from a chain round her neck.
“Ah – you’re the other one,” the woman said, touching her hand to the ruby. “I knew there were three.”
“Madame Varia!” Molly said. “What are you doing in my kitchen? How did you get in?”
“Not important.” Madam Varia wriggled her fingers in Molly’s direction, her eyes never leaving Josh’s face.
“It bloomin’ well is important!” Molly said. “Have you got Will? Where is he?”
“Please be quiet child. You’re not the one that interests me here.”
Josh got to his feet. “You’d better tell me what you want. But keep Molly out of it,” he added. “She just wants her brother back.”
“I’m sure she does. Perhaps she’ll have her wish, once he’s served his purpose.”
Madame Varia gave Molly a disdainful look and Josh felt a knot of anger tightening in his stomach. What was it with these Middengard people? They were so full of themselves. He felt like punching her in the face, but she could be one of those demon things for all he knew, so that might not be a good idea.
“Tell me what you want,” he said again. “Otherwise piss off back where you came from.”
“Temper, temper.” The medium held out both hands. “I want you to come with me – both of you. Someone’s waiting for us. And we wouldn’t want to be late.”
MIDDENGARD
Chapter 20
The journey back to Skellstor didn’t take as long as Ellie expected. They were able to obtain fresh horses at the first village they came to and, having already abandoned both the wagon and their disguises, the three of them rode swiftly, with only the shortest of stops for food and sleep. They reached the White City at dawn on the fourth day.
As exhausted as she was, the sight of the early morning sun on Skellstor’s walls lifted Ellie’s heart. She had spent her childhood in the human world, but it was Middengard that was in her blood and Middengard that made her feel truly alive. She had already proven she would give her life to defend it and she was ready to do so again, if that was necessary. She was far from understanding what was happening in the Vale, or why Orla had done what she had done, but if a battle were coming she would be ready for it.
“It’s so good to be home,” Rose said. “Isn’t it Daisy?”
“It certainly is.” Daisy gave a half smile. She’d been much quieter than normal on the ride back, her former bravado seemingly left behind in Hel’s halls. It was sweet the way Rose kept trying to buoy her confidence, but Ellie doubted the young Guard would ever fully recover from her experience. She knew Daisy blamed herself for Orla’s loss and there was nothing Ellie could say to convince her otherwise. She could only hope a few days rest and some time with Stanor would help.
“Why don’t you ride on ahead and find your father?” she said now. “He’ll be happy to see you safe and well.”
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Rose asked. “You shouldn’t go off on your own, you know. It might not be safe.”
Ellie almost laughed. Rose had been taking caution to a ridiculous degree lately. But she didn’t have the heart to point out that the company of a fourteen-year old Guard was hardly likely to make any difference if she was suddenly attacked by one of Hel’s minions. Which was highly unlikely, given they were at the very gates of Skellstor.
“No - I must see Isolde without delay.” She didn’t add that she knew Isolde had removed herself to her cave in Wolfheim – a safe distance from the sages. It seemed the old woman had had enough of being fussed over.
“Are you going to give her Orla’s message?” Daisy’s face was anxious.
“What message? You didn’t tell me about that,” Rose said, giving her twin a reproachful look.
“It was nothing,” Daisy said quickly. “Orla was – well, she just wanted to say her goodbyes.”
“Oh. Of course.” Rose took her sister’s hand. “I shouldn’t have asked. We said we wouldn’t talk about it any more.”
Daisy mouthed a quick sorry to Ellie. They’d agreed to keep Orla’s final words between themselves. It was better that way, at least until she’d had chance to take Isolde’s counsel.
Luckily, Rose seemed satisfied with Daisy’s explanation. “Go along girls – the farmers will be arriving soon for market,” Ellie prompted. “You don’t want to get stuck in the crowds. Oh, and tell Tom I’ll be back before nightfall.”
The twins having ridden off, she turned her back on Skellstor once more and headed for Wolfheim. Her husband had spent over half his life waiting for her.
Another few hours wouldn’t make any difference.
*
Hel’s domain was darker than Orla had ever imagined and more than deserving of its name. It seemed cruel that the dead had to pass through it before they reached the Valley of the Dawn, which was a place of golden light and happiness.
As for the Goddess herself, she seemed to delight in misery. Orla had been in Hel for three long days and now the fourth day was to be a Doomsday – a day of judgment. She had been summoned to Hel’s presence in the Cavern of Echoes and stood, alone and shivering, by the water’s edge.
The Goddess suddenly appeared in front of her. She was naked, save for a garland of skulls that hung about her neck. One half of her face was young and beautiful, the other corpse-like with bones protruding beneath the skin.
“Ah – the little priestess. How anxious you look my dear.” Hel’s breath was fetid on Orla’s face. Repulsed, she turned away.
Hel laughed at her discomfort. “You are squeamish! And yet there will be worse sights before this day ends. Here – come sit by me. I may need to take your counsel, given you are now so wise.”
Hel took up position in a throne-like seat carved into the rocks and draped a fur across the lower part of her body. Her white breasts remained exposed, the milky skin gleaming in the darkness. Orla did as she was bidden and reached deep inside herself for the reassurance of the earth power. She closed her eyes and told herself a season was nothing - the moon would turn four cycles and she would be free again to roam the forests and to smell sweet rain. She was just thinking about Isolde, and the knowledge she would have to share with her, when the blast of a horn ripped into the silence and Hel clapped her hands.
“At last! Now the fun begins.” Hel’s dark eyes flashed. “Watch carefully, little one.”
A longboat appeared at the mouth of the cavern, with a splintered hull and a single black sail. There were oars in the oarlocks but they lay idle. Orla watched in horrible fascination as the ship moved towards them of its own volition. Within seconds it had come aground on the sharp black rocks, its sail flapping despite the lack of wind. Mist rose from the deck and as it swirled towards them took on shape: a long line of ghostly shadows, heads bowed in supplication.
