by Sam Short
In total silence, everybody in the room remained motionless, and Millie’s heart skipped a beat. Only one person raised an arm, and that woman was one of the officials seated next to Ammon.
Ammon slammed his staff to the ground once more. “I will ask again!” he shouted. “But remember my advice — you would all do well to take it! Raise your hand if you are against Henry Pinkerton being allowed to return to his home.”
The only sound in the vast hall was a distant cough, and Ammon became visibly irritated, passing his staff from hand to hand. He waited for half a minute and then spoke in a defeated tone. “Those of you who wish to allow Henry permission to leave, raise your arm.”
The hall erupted with the sound of rustling clothing and the jangle of jewellery, as arms were thrust above heads.
Sinking into his seat, Ammon raised his staff. “The vote has been taken. Henry Pinkerton may leave. This meeting is over.”
Millie turned to Terrence and gripped him in a fierce hug. “Thank you,” she said.
Remaining limp in her arms, Terrence made a low sound in his throat. “Thank you,” he said. “Nobody has hugged me in a very long time.” His hands finding Millie’s back, he squeezed her gently. “It was not only the words I spoke which swayed the opinion of the crowd,” he said, in a low voice. “Nobody respects Ammon. They used to, but he has become authoritarian in his outlook. This meeting, for instance, is deemed a waste of time by the majority of the community. The delegates will be happy it is cancelled. They just required a push in the right direction.”
“Thank you for giving them that push, Terrence,” said Millie, pulling away from the hug, aware that the hum of excited conversation had replaced the silence in the hall.
“It was my pleasure, Millie,” he said. He lifted a hand and pointed a long finger. “Mister Pinkerton is here.”
Millie gave an enormous sigh of relief as she turned to face Henry, smiling at the short man as he hurried across the stone floor towards her, his round spectacles threatening to slip off his nose as he ran. “Henry!” she said. “I’m so happy to see you!”
“I’m sorry to hear what has happened at home,” said Henry, taking Millie’s hand. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t come down here as soon as you entered the hall, but the rules forbade it.”
“You’re here now,” said Millie. “That’s all that matters. Will you go back to Spellbinder Hall and help Sergeant Spencer?”
“Of course I will,” said Henry, smiling at her. “And we will get to the bottom of the murder you spoke of, but I have a question for you first, Millie. Do you remember when I first came to visit you in that squalid flat of yours in London, and I used magic to open the gate which had rusted closed?”
“Of course I remember,” said Millie. “I had no idea how you’d done it.”
“Well now it’s my turn to ask you how you managed to pass through a gate, Millie,” said Henry. “How did you get here?”
“Graham and Peter discovered that if I stepped into The Chaos, I would be able to step back through the gate safely because of my magic,” explained Millie. “They surmised that I’d be able to find you by passing through other gates when I got to the chaos. They were right.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew the stone of integrity and its pouch. She handed the vibrating jewel to Henry. “This helped, too. It showed me the way.”
Taking the stone and placing it in the pouch, Henry looked Millie up and down. “Forgive me for saying this, Miss Thorn, but you look like you’ve been in the wars. Your clothes are wet and torn, and I suspect the patch of red on your shirt is blood. Are you alright?”
“I’m okay,” said Millie. “The blood is not mine. It’s Reuben’s. He came with me and was injured by a demon. He’s being taken care of, though. By my mother and Esmeralda.”
“By your mother and Esmeralda?” said Henry. “How can that be poss —” He stopped speaking, and shook his head. “No. That can wait. There are more important things to focus on.” He offered Millie an arm. “Take hold of my sleeve. We’ll be back at Spellbinder Hall in a jiffy.”
“You can take me with you?” asked Millie. “What about the headmaster? Shouldn’t you be taking him back with you? I can travel through dimension gates.”
“Of course I can take you with me,” said Henry. “I’ve told Mister Dickinson he’s to wait here. I can only take one person at a time, so I will come back for him when I’ve helped Sergeant Spencer. I won’t hear of you placing another foot in The Chaos, in order to travel home through gates, Miss Thorn. It’s dangerous.”
“Yes,” said Millie. “It is.”
As she grasped a piece of Henry’s red suit jacket, the small man gave her a warm smile. “I was proud to hear you announce to this hall full of people that Sergeant Spencer is your father, Millie. Am I to suppose that everybody back in Spellbinder Bay knows, too, or is it still a secret which I should not mention?”
“It’s still a secret,” Millie said. “But as soon as you’ve helped Sergeant Spencer, I’m going to tell him, and then I’m going to tell everyone else.”
“Then we should hurry,” said Henry. “I’ve been looking forward to the day on which you gave him the news, and it seems that day is almost here!” He nodded his head at Terrence. “That was a heart-warming speech you gave. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” said Trevor, a glint in his black eyes indicating a hint of pride. “You’re both welcome.”
Henry nodded. He took his glasses off and slipped them into his pocket. “Hold on, Millie. The journey will be brief and disorienting.”
Grasping Henry’s sleeve a little tighter, Millie smiled at Terrence. “I’m ready,” she said.
Chapter 40
Almost as soon as Henry had instructed her to hold on, Millie felt her feet leave solid ground. A huge pressure built in her chest, and just as the pressure turned to pain, her feet were on solid ground again, and her chest felt normal.
“My word!” came a voice from her left. “You did frighten me! I wish you would give me a warning when you’re going to pop into existence like that! It’s no good for my heart!”
“Your heart is in splendid health, Mrs Brockett,” said Henry. “Which is more than I can say for poor Sergeant Spencer. He doesn’t appear to be at all well.”
“He’s not,” said Edna. She took Millie’s hand in hers, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “I am glad to see you back, Millie,” she said. “We thought perhaps the worst had happened to you. Since you’ve been gone, though, the poor sergeant has worsened, and Judith is in an awful state. I’ve given her something that will help her sleep, but I must say, I’m ever so relieved that you have both returned.” She smiled at Henry. “Please save him. I want everything to get back to normal as soon as possible.”
Henry took his glasses from his pocket and placed them on his face. “I’ll see what I can do, Mrs Brockett. Millie has thoroughly explained the events which led up to this moment. It seems that the concealment spell has been allowed to run havoc in the poor man’s mind.”
“You can help him, though?” said Millie.
“I’ll do my best,” said Henry, approaching the bed. “But I’m going to need some peace and quiet. You two are more than welcome to stay, but please lock the door, Mrs Brockett. I don’t want any disturbances. The work I have to do requires concentration.”
“The others are busy,” said Edna. “Timothy is sitting with Judith, and Fredrick and George are still waiting for you at the gate, Millie. We didn’t expect you to come back with Henry.”
“I’ve left the headmaster behind,” said Henry, rolling up his sleeves and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’ll return for him at a later date.”
“Reuben is still in there, Edna,” said Millie. “He’s injured, but somebody is caring for him. I’m glad that Fredrick and George are waiting at the gate. I wouldn’t want Reuben to return with only the scientists there to greet him. He’s been through a lot.”
“I’m sure Reuben will be fine, my dea
r,” said Edna. “He’s a fighter.”
“You have no idea,” said Millie. “He was willing to sacrifice himself for me. He’s a hero.”
“Then he’ll be treated as such when he returns,” said Edna, striding purposefully to the door, pulling it closed, and turning the key in the lock. “Nobody can get in, Henry. You can begin.”
Still sitting on the bed, Henry took one of Sergeant Spencer’s large hands in his. He closed his eyes and began speaking quietly, as if reciting a prayer in a language Millie couldn’t understand.
As Henry spoke, Sergeant Spencer’s body suddenly jolted, as if Henry’s hand was a conductor of electricity. Henry spoke louder, and the policeman jolted again, this time more violently, his back arching and his hands making trembling fists.
“Is he okay?” asked Millie, stepping towards the bed.
Edna pulled her back with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Let Henry work,” she said. “The spell has wormed its way deep into the sergeant’s mind. Henry must follow it.”
Sergeant Spencer’s back arched again, and he made a groaning sound as his legs kicked upward.
Releasing the sergeant’s hand, which dropped limply to the quilt, Henry stood up. He bent over the policeman and put his hand on his forehead, murmuring more strange words under his breath.
Then, with a gasp and a shake of his head, the policeman woke up. He opened his eyes and stared around the room.
Millie rushed to the bed and put a hand on his arm, relief rushing through her like a drug. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”
Sergeant Spencer gazed around the room, his salt and pepper fringe slick with perspiration. “Judith!” he shouted. “Where’s Judith?”
“How much do you remember of what has happened, Sergeant Spencer?” asked Henry.
“Everything,” said the policeman. “I think.” He tried to prop himself up on his elbows but fell back to the bed. “Where’s Judith? Is she alright?”
“Yes,” said Edna. “She was resting after the moon-pool had healed her wounds, and during that time, the concealment spell put you into magical stasis. Judith became very concerned, so we thought it best that she rest a little longer. I gave her a little something to help her relax.”
“I want to see her,” said Sergeant Spencer. He blinked a few times and lifted a hand to his head, rubbing it. His lips visibly dry, he gave a thin smile. “Millie,” he said. “Are you alright? You saved us from the wolves. You and George saved us. Thank you.”
“You don’t need to say thank you,” said Millie, her hand still on his arm.
Sergeant Spencer smiled and looked past Millie. “Henry, you’re here. Have I been asleep for that long? The last I remember, you weren’t due back for a couple of days.”
“Millie and Reuben ventured through the chaos gate,” said Edna. “They crossed dimensions to find Henry and bring him back.”
“You did?” said Sergeant Spencer, gazing at Millie through eyes filled with pain. “Thank you.” Suddenly, he gave a shout, startling Millie. He lifted both hands to his head and held them against his face. “My head,” he mumbled. “It hurts.”
Pulling Millie aside, Henry put his hand on the policeman and closed his eyes for a few seconds. “This is not good,” he said.
“What’s wrong?” asked Millie. “What’s wrong with him, Henry?”
“The concealment spell is simple, yet complicated,” said Henry. “The job it does — keeping our community hidden from the outside world, is simple, how it achieves that task, is complicated. What’s happening to the sergeant is one of those complications.”
“What is it that’s happening to me?” moaned Sergeant Spencer. “It hurts.”
Henry waved a hand across the policeman’s face and muttered a few words. Almost instantly, Sergeant Spencer dropped his hands from his head. “Thank you, Henry. The pain has stopped.”
“Unfortunately, that’s all that has happened,” said Henry. “I cast a pain relieving spell on you, Sergeant Spencer. It is powerful and will last, but complicated things are happening in your mind that I can’t stop. Not until I can prove that you didn’t kill Trevor Giles.”
“But he didn’t kill Trevor Giles,” said Millie.
“Of course he didn’t,” replied Henry. “I know that. I don’t think he killed Trevor Giles or knows anything about what happened to him. Most people in Spellbinder Bay would agree with me, but those werewolves which Fredrick locked away in the dungeons disagree. They’ve made their thoughts known to the magic which powers the concealment spell. The magic is doing what it’s supposed to do — protect the paranormal community from humans. The magic is not conscious in the way we understand that word, it works on instinct, and instinct is forcing it to treat Sergeant Spencer as if he’s guilty of a crime against us as a community. We must prove his innocence in order to save him.”
“But you’re the human face of the magic in Spellbinder Hall!” said Millie. “You’re the living embodiment of the magic, its conscience. You are the magic, that’s how it’s been explained to me! Why can’t you stop the concealment spell working on him?”
“I’m a part of the magic, yes,” said Henry. “But I have as much control over the magic as you have over your body, Millie.”
“Total control!” said Millie. “So do something to stop it.”
“If I ask you to move an arm, or jump on the spot, or hold your breath, you’ll do it,” said Henry. “You have that control over your body. If I ask you to stop your heart beating, you won’t be able to, and for a good reason. That’s the control I have over the magic, Millie. I can affect certain things, but even I can’t get to the heart of the matter. I can’t do anything to change the way the heart of the magic beats. We must give it what it wants — proof that Sergeant Spencer is not a threat to us.”
“How do we do that?” asked Millie. “You can’t use the stone of integrity on him to prove his innocence; he’s a human.”
“No,” said Henry. “I can’t, but I can use it on paranormal people. When you told your story to Ammon and the assembled delegates, you mentioned suspects from the paranormal world. Bring them to me, and I will use the stone on them. If one of them is guilty, Sergeant Spencer will become innocent by proxy, and all of our problems will be solved.”
“That might be tricky,” said Millie. “Before I passed through the chaos gate, I made contact with a ghost who is new to this school,” she said. “I’ve found out who she is and I believe she was about to confess to murdering Trevor Giles before she was startled by Reuben, and left in a hurry. I’m not sure how to find her again, and I’m not sure if she’ll allow you to use the stone on her. Or if it will even work on a ghost.”
“Oh, it will work,” said Henry. “But a ghost committing murder? I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of such an accusation being made. Who is this ghost, Miss Thorn, and how do you suppose she killed Trevor Giles? You said he was poisoned.”
“Florence said she saw the ghost flitting between the chemistry lab and my cookery classroom,” said Millie. “Herbs found in Timothy’s lab were found in the poison, and as for the magic which Edna found in the poison, the ghost was a halfling when she was alive. She had a little magic which she might have been able to use.”
“Half witch and half werewolf?” said Henry. “They are rare. Who is this ghost, Miss Thorn?”
“It’s the ghost of Miss Timkins,” said Millie.
“Miss Timkins the cookery teacher?” said Henry. “The poor soul who turned herself into a soufflé and was accidentally placed in an oven?”
“Yes,” said Millie. “But before I went into the chaos, she wrote something on the blackboard. She told me that Trevor Giles had put her in the oven, and that it hadn’t been an accident. She had a reason for wanting Trevor dead, Henry.”
“Of course it was an accident,” said Henry. “Mister Dickinson witnessed it. He was quite clear as to what had happened. Trevor Giles had no idea that the soufflé he was putting in the oven happened to be his teacher.”
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Suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped, and the hairs on Millie’s arms stood on end. A voice spoke from behind her, and she turned quickly, stepping backwards as a tall robed figure stared down at her. “It was no accident,” it said. “But I did not kill Trevor Giles.”
Chapter 41
“You can speak?” said Millie.
The ghost nodded. “My abilities as a ghost fully developed not long after I had communicated with you in your classroom. Now I’m complete, and I have connected with an old friend.”
Millie stepped back even further as another ghost stepped through the wall and stood alongside Miss Timkins. “I told you that the robed ghost had not killed Mister Giles,” said Florence. “I informed you that I had not taken my eyes off the ghost for the entirety of the school fete. She made no poisons in the chemistry laboratory or tampered with any food, and she did not follow Sergeant Spencer to the police station after he had arrested Mister Giles.”
“Then we must be certain of that,” said Henry. “Sergeant Spencer’s very existence is at risk if we do not solve Trevor Giles’s murder quickly.” He approached the robed figure and removed the stone of integrity from his pocket. “Would you mind holding out your hand, Miss Timkins? As your abilities are fully formed, I assume you have the power to interact with solid objects.”
“No,” said Miss Timkins. “I won’t. Not until you’ve heard my story. The story of what happened to me thirty years ago.”
“Which I can verify,” said Florence. “You won’t need the stone to prove she is speaking the truth.”
“How can you verify her story, Florence?” asked Millie. “You weren’t even aware of who the ghost was until now.”
“Robes protect a ghosts identity from other ghosts, too,” said Florence. “But now that Miss Timkins has approached me and made her identity known, I can verify her story, because I was there when it happened,” she said. “I was watching as she was put in the oven, but for reasons which will soon become apparent, I was never able to speak of what I saw. I will speak today, though.”
