They turned a corner and her heart nearly stopped. They’d walked directly into a group of men, who stood in a conspiratorial circle, smoking pipes and jibing with each other in rough accents. Their faces were cast blue by the candle, which only made them look more frightening. Her insides burned with panic. She knew it. She couldn’t trust the boy. He’d led her right into a trap. He’d sabotaged them with his lack of sense!
She tugged vigorously against his grip, desperate to pull him back into the shadows, but he was too strong for her. He held his ground and spoke her name repeatedly.
“Annabelle!”
She wasn’t strong enough to pull away from him, and he was determined to stay. If he wished to be punished, she couldn’t stop him. So, she stopped fighting and looked up, expecting the group of men to be ready to pounce. But strangely, their conversation hadn’t faltered. Neither had their body language changed. They continued to speak to one another as if no one was there. Surely, they mustn’t see young women pulled through these halls often. Rather, it seemed they hadn’t noticed her or the boy at all.
She moved closer, scanning their faces for recognition of her presence. But they talked on, never looking in her direction; their faces and posture betraying no notice of the strange light her candle cast upon everything. She approached the men until she was standing directly in front of them. She even stomped her feet a few times for good measure. But it was like they were blind and dumb. Or, she and the boy were invisible. She looked back at him. Strangely, he didn’t seem surprised at all. Rather, he watched her in a bored way as she danced about.
“What...” She said breathlessly. “What is going on?”
He said nothing, only pointed at the black candle, his eyes betraying a grim fear. He seemed unwilling to touch it, and nervous even referring to it.
“Do you mean....” she asked. “What.... They don’t see us?”
The boy shook his head silently, his dirty, cropped hair sticking out in chaotic pieces. He certainly wasn’t one for giving details. He said nothing more, only stole a last glance at the men before taking her arm.
“Let’s be off.”
CHAPTER 11
Into the Light
After many twists and turns that left her dizzy, they arrived in a room that opened out into the underground streets. Dim daylight emitted through it’s windows that, to her mole eyes, felt bright as the sun. Before she’d taken two breaths, she was pulled into the streets beyond. Light poured down from a great, spiraled roadway that led up into daylight. She couldn’t tell if the sk was sunny or overcast, for it seemed like the brightest day she’d ever seen; even though only a dim impression of it shone down.
They burned down the street, running for their lives. She’d never felt more exhilarated. It was uncertain if they’d make it out, but she wasn’t thinking now, only obeying the animal instinct that told her to run as fast as her body would carry her. Her feet smashed crooked cobblestones again and again, the impact jarring her legs and back; but she hardly noticed. Her pulse raced, pulling her toward the light; forcing her body along like a silent appendage. They barreled past packs of distracted men, around corners and past piled-up crates, past dark, empty shops and alleyways that led off into the nothingness; pulling her nearer to the great spiraling road that let in the light. It must be the great turn and dip she felt from inside the carriage when they brought her here. The light grew brighter as they went, so bright it hurt her eyes.
Then quite suddenly, the boy pulled her into a dark alcove and down into a crouch. He scanned the road anxiously and, looking down at the candle, noticed it’d gone out. Panic gripped her heart as she realized it must’ve extinguished as they ran. Who had seen them, then? Were they being watched right now?
“The candle,” she said, nudging the boy.
He nodded solemnly. Apparently, he’d already noticed it’s state. She went pale, for there was no way to re-light it. No nearby fires. Nor did they have any matches.
“We’re being followed,” he whispered as he studied the street like a stalking animal, ready to pounce on any chance for escape.
Suddenly, with a tight grip on her wrist, he yanked her out of the alcove, making for the upward spiral as fast as he could. But, just as they materialized out of the shadows, several of Blackall’s men did as well; making tracks across the open market street at top speed, gaining on her and the boy. To their luck, some of Blackall’s men seemed ill-accustomed to running. But there were also many adolescents whose thin limbs pumped with wild ambition beneath their ragged garments.
They reached the spiral’s base. The light was blinding, reflecting off of wet cobblestones. She masked her eyes with a forearm as they ran with all their might up the steep slope. But their progress seemed to take years, as if they were moving in slow motion. Her limbs were heavy. Her lungs screamed within her chest. The light was hot and oppressive. Sweat dripped down her back in itching lines. Each step, though driven with extreme exertion, seemed to move her body mere inches upward. And she couldn’t help but continually look back at their pursuers. Several of them had reached the base of the spiral and followed in hot pursuit. Their strained faces shone brightly, reflecting the daylight above, as their limbs flailed behind in grayish blurs. Their rough expressions looked strange lit by the bright, angelic light; like demons glaring into the white face of heaven.
She tried desperately to stay ahead of their frantic, gaping strides; picking her feet up as high as she could, over and over, despite tremendous resistance. Her skirts were cumbersome and her legs burned. Her feet felt like bricks. And each breath scratched her lungs. But the boy yanked her onwards by the wrist. His will was iron, despite the obstacles all around. When they finally reached the top, the light was so brilliant, it seemed she was up in the clouds. But it was merely a courtyard with narrow alleyways escaping off in several directions. The boy didn’t hesitate, he pulled her towards the nearest one and they flew down it, and around corner after corner. Her boots slipped on wet cobblestones and over muddied straw. All was a blur of stone, smoke and filth. Then, they turned suddenly into a yard adjacent to a baker’s shop, never stopping until the boy had pulled her down a pair of basement steps and beneath the building. There, they crouched in the small, shaded space it afforded; gasping dusty breaths.
Her pulse raced in her ears as he tuned in for the sound of footsteps with razor sharp focus. Though they’d stopped, she did not rest. Her instincts were still aroused, and she remained ready for flight at a second’s notice. She watched the boy’s chest heave up and down, his pupils small and the whites of his eyes bright. The hand that held her wrist was marked with dirt, it’s muscles holding fast and tight. They sat in silence for a time, listening to the hum of the streets with heightened senses. She waited for the animal within her to calm and it’s voice to fade as clouds rolled overhead and alley cats mewed for food. A cool breeze chilled her, rolling up her back and neck, penetrating the fabric of her dress. Her throat was hoarse from thirst. Each breath was nearly a wheeze. Her skin flashed bluish-white in the overcast light. She’d never realized how pale she was.
Enough time had passed without anyone nearing their hiding place that she finally began to calm. She took a deep breath of autumn air, savoring her escape from the underground. Down in those dark places, she’d begun to wonder if she’d ever feel such pleasures again.
“Boy?” She asked, realizing she didn’t know his name. He sat slumped, his thin face smeared with grime. He looked up lethargically at the word, saying nothing; only acknowledging her with his glance.
“What shall we do now?” she asked. “Shall we seek out my uncle?”
The boy shrugged weakly in reply, clearly too exhausted to give input. She didn’t wish to spend a night on the cold, dangerous streets. But she did wish to get ahead of any of the fabled “enemies” one apparently found upon leaving the underground. The thought made her shiver.
They could go to Orenn House. But she might not be welcome back there, nor might the
boy. True, her uncle may not even have noticed she’d gone. Few took notice of her there. But if they had, they might be angry with her for disappearing. Perhaps she and the boy could sneak into another house by the light of the black candle. But the thought made her feel harried. She hadn’t the strength to navigate more unfamiliar territory, more unfamiliar hazards. Not tonight. Perhaps, after she’d regained some strength, she could tackle the trouble of finding a new house, of wandering through it’s unfamiliar halls and dealing with it’s guardians. For now, she simply must go home; somewhere she felt safe, somewhere she could relax. She could leave again after then. But she felt undeniably drawn to her own home, so drawn it was unavoidable. She wished to feel safe as she once had, sheltered under the protection of her powerful uncle like a child.
“If you like,” the boy mumbled. “Perhaps that would be best.”
She felt her body relax at the thought of being home again. She felt more confident already. She studied the boy, covered in soot and grime from their travels through the underground, and felt eternally grateful. Not only had he risked his life in aiding her escape, he’d sabotaged his own position in that underground world. He’d most likely put himself onto the street. A place where he wouldn’t be safe anymore, not after what he’d done for her. She owed him a great deal.
“When it’s safe to go, take us to Orenn House,” she said. “You shall eat, and I will see that you are treated well. Do you know the way?”
He nodded in reply.
“Aye,” he mumbled. “Everyone knows where the find that great old ‘ouse.”
She felt a bit guilty, for she couldn’t guarantee the reception they’d get. But she was determined to use every bit of influence she had, including deceit, to bring him under her uncle’s protection. If she had to, she’d sneak him in and hide him somewhere.
“What is your name?” she asked, feeling awkward that she didn’t know it already.
“Gio Burland, miss.”
“Joe, is it?”
“Uh, aye.”
“A pleasure, Joe,” she said warmly. “My name is Annabelle Morton.”
The boy rocked his head forward in acquiescence.
“Aye,” he muttered.
“I...” she said. “I am much obliged to you.”
He said nothing, only looked down at his feet. She tried to smooth her dress, the one Blackall had given her. It was much more low-cut than her own plain dresses. It made her feel even more self-conscious to be wearing a strange garment on the streets of London.
“I’ll come,” he said. “If you wish it.”
His voice pulled her from her reverie.
“It would give me great pleasure,” she replied.
Joe’s hazy eyes met hers, looking bright in contrast to the grime on his face. She wondered just why he was helping her. For there was a sharpness to him, a cleverness that seemed to be scheming. But his eyes flitted away from her face before she could read more in them.
They’d been still long enough. She stood and shuffled up the steps, extending her hand out behind her, a gesture for Joe to follow. Feeling his warm hand clasp onto hers, they climbed out from under the building and walked across the stone yard, hand-in-hand; weary and dazed from the drama of the past day. Standing at the top, they looked each other up and down and burst out laughing. They were covered head to toe in filth. But there was nothing to be done, so she gave her appearance up to raggedness and accepted it for the time being.
The air in the yard was smokey but invigorating in comparison to the stifling airs of the underground city. There weren’t any fires nearby to light the candle. But surely, trudging through the bustling streets of London in a state of invisibility would cause more of a stir than not. They’d be run in to so constantly they’d certainly cause a scene.
CHAPTER 13
A Warning
The noise in the hall was deafening. Men scrambled about, squabbling in loud voices. Fights broke out. Many were still drunk, adding to the sense of violent disarray; while some sat dumbfounded, their faces pale with shock. Most had flown into a violent, outspoken terror; the kind that hopes to deflect punishment by embodying the anger directed at them. They were crazed with it.
At the conclusion of several hours of searching, the last sentries had returned from the streets above with no sign of the girl. After hearing this, their lord’s rage was incalculable. None could say exactly what happened, for everything descended into chaos then. There were screams among the company, unheard of among such calloused men. Bodies lifted into the air like limp scarecrows as Blackall’s fury erupted in an invisible wave, unseen, but felt in their very souls. It seemed to overtake everything, even their thoughts. Everywhere was thick darkness and a wind that seemed to blow up from the dark fields of hell, thick with the scent of it’s decay.
When it was finally over, the candles kindled into light again. The black cloud dissipated. Bones were broken. Men lay strewn across the ground. Five were dead. Windows were shattered to tiny pieces. Tables and chairs ripped apart. The hall looked like a typhoon had torn through it. But the worst part was the enduring terror. A crippling chaos fell over their minds - an indescribable, bestial fear. They had seen something they couldn’t un-see, felt something they couldn’t make their hearts forget.
Even the oldest among the thieves had never seen the Blackall’s power displayed thus. Until this moment, it had existed as a mere rumor, the truth of which they’d only seen mirrored in other men’s eyes. The fearful deference of the few who believed had served as a standard for the wise to reflect. He had merely been a powerful man. But now, none could doubt; not even if they wanted to. They knew now that they were mere dogs. In their hearts, he towered to lofty heights; limbs thick like forces of nature. Their eyes were opened, and to look upon him was terrible. They were part of something they didn’t understand. It was visceral to them now, illustrated in broken bodies, chairs and table parts. And they didn’t know how to protect themselves. So they turned their fears on each other.
~
Blackall was rank with vexation as he sat above them in the officer’s corner, surveying the chaos, glowing with otherworldly rage. It pumped in and out of his nostrils, in the rise and fall of his chest. It coursed through his limbs. The air around him was electric. He leaned his head back and drank it in, absorbing the release of the men’s fear and panic.
Those who could be distracted from their own mania watched in fearful awe. Something was moving in the air around their lord. It shimmered like oil in water, nearly invisible; drifting like the rolling waves of a great, translucent robe. Those who looked deeply into it saw strange, unknown things. Tremors of other worlds. Shadows. But they averted their eyes fearfully, unable to cope with further knowledge. If admittance into the holy of holies meant feeling the extremities they’d just seen, they wished instead to scratch upon the ground in ignorance. It was all they could take.
As Blackall stood, the men cowered. The hall’s noise diminished greatly, though a few still tussled about. Their lord called out in a phrase none recognized. It didn’t even sound like English. But they hadn’t time to think about it. For his lieutenants appeared before him in an instant - all of them, all at once, materializing out of thin air and falling to the ground as if dropped. Some fell on their feet, others landed less gracefully with a pounding thump. They couldn’t be sure they’d seen it, for the hall was dimly lit. But they knew in their hearts it was a spell. Instead of cries of alarm, the hall went silent, none daring to call attention upon themselves.
“Come!” Blackall growled at his officers, turning away down a side passage.
They followed without question, though sheepishly; watching his form disappear before them like a specter. Far into the darkness, they passed through a large doorway and into a black room. The door closed behind them once all had entered, as if a gust of wind slammed it shut. The officers had been too rattled from their sudden appearance in the hall to worry about Blackall’s intentions. He’d never been a c
ruel master before. But a deep burst of fear appeared in their hearts as they observed the spell.
Candles lit themselves, their white light growing slowly from darkness. Blackall studied his officers with a hard gaze. He didn’t speak a word for several moments. Then suddenly, he called out towards the door, as if speaking to an invisible man.
“Bring the guard!” he barked.
The door flew open and a man appeared, stumbling as if a strong gale blew at his heels, tripping him. He pulled another man behind him, the guard from outside Miss Morton’s cell room. He was being dragged in to face judgment. The failed guard was dropped at Blackall’s feet. He cowered there, shaking; his shoulders looking broken, as if crushed under a great weight. He was a man about to die, and the whole room knew it.
Blackall studied him with abhorrence, his features twisted into a glare so sharp it seemed to penetrate the man’s skin.
“What means did she employ...”
He muttered to himself, thinking out loud. The resentful tint in his eyes softened to indifference as he turned back to the officers.
“She must be got back,” he growled. “Do you understand me? I do not care how. You will employ every goddamned man in this hole, every method in your goddamned stinking arsenals. You will find her. NOW!”
The men stood in frozen silence, fearful even to breathe. The brave and ever diplomatic Kenward stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“Sir,” Kenward said. “Is she not but one young woman? Insignificant, surely. True, she now knows of our city. But surely we can find another for-”
“Do not speak,” Blackall spat, baring his teeth.
Kenward stepped back and dropped his head. Blackall’s eyes burned with the heat of a mad man’s. The men watched like small animals watch a circling predator, braced and waiting.
“It shall be sufficient,” he growled, “For you all to DO AS I SAY. If she is not brought back, great consequences await all of you, and there shall be no hole dark enough to hide you from it. You have her name, and the name of her only kin. Now find her.”
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