by Holly Bell
‘I think the key is what you saw in your dream. What if it’s real? I mean, what if you were seeing a past, a place and person that really existed?’
‘I suppose it’s possible.’
‘Even if it’s only in a vision, imagine if the Oracle could help us? You said you felt she’s all-knowing and, if she is, she should be able to tell me something about what happened to Samantha.’
‘We do give ourselves messages in dreams,’ Jonathan acknowledged, trying to make some sense of it all.
‘Even if that’s all it is, we need to try and access that message. Yes, so, let’s assume, hypothetically, that it’s real on some level. You say the Oracle didn’t speak to you, but I believe she’ll talk to me. So, I would need to get an audience with her.’
‘I suppose so … but how?’
‘I would need your help, Jonathan.’
He nodded.
‘But I don’t know what I can do.’
‘She likes you, that is, she accepts you on some level. So you would be able to introduce me, wouldn’t you?’
‘Well yes, but … but how? I’ve only ever been down there in dreams.’
‘That’s right. So … I – I know how to do … hypnosis … We could sort of share a trance … and go …’
‘Down there?’ Jonathan looked nervously at the floor.
‘I know you said you never wanted to again, but I’d be with you, and the inspector would be there too as a … a bodyguard for us.’
‘Well, it does sound very strange, indeed, Amanda. I have undergone hypnosis, but in a medical context, you know … and even that was …’ Jonathan sat in thought. When he spoke again, his voice was resolute. ‘But I’m willing to give it a try. If it’s all we’ve got that could help Mrs Pagely, then I’ll do whatever I can. When would this be?’ Amanda suppressed a sigh of relief. Jonathan was on board.
‘Er … now.’
‘Now?’
‘Or Mrs Pagely is arrested today.’
He spoke breathlessly. ‘All right.’
‘Let’s go down into the stacks together. I’ve brought a costume. The Oracle doesn’t seem to mind what you wear, but I thought for the inspector and me it might help.’
‘Yes, that makes sense. I’ll get the key … and tell Mrs Pagely that we’re going down to the stacks and the inspector will be joining us, that we’re helping with the investigation.’
‘That sounds good,’ agreed Amanda. She let him take the lead to the counter and stood back while he spoke to the librarian, got the key and opened up the green door to the basement. She found Tempest beside her, as though he had waited until things got interesting to turn up. Jonathan beckoned to Amanda, and she followed him down into the weak artificial light illuminating the concrete steps. The three of them descended into the oldest part of the structure.
‘I’ll go and sit at the table while you change,’ suggested Jonathan.
Amanda stayed as nearby as possible, but found a place where she was screened from view and got into Granny’s assembled outfit. She plaited her long hair and pinned it around her head to form a coronet. Against this she placed her grandmother’s tiara. Jonathan regarded the ensemble as she emerged, carrying a small bag.
‘Yes, I suppose that might work for a number of historical periods,’ he remarked.
‘Thank you, Jonathan. At this moment, I appreciate any vote of confidence!’
He smiled at that, and she joined him at the table, and he asked,
‘When do we expect the insp—’
Footsteps were descending from above, and with perfect timing, Trelawney made his entrance. Having reached the table, he shook hands with Jonathan.
‘Thank you, Mr Sheppard, for your help with this venture. I realise it’s all highly esoteric and the most tenuous of leads, but, at this moment, it’s all we have.’
‘Of course, Inspector.’
Trelawney put a midnight-blue, constellation-studded hessian bag on the table. Amanda recognised it and looked at him questioningly as he removed his jacket, stripped off his tie and undid the first few buttons of his shirt.
‘Aunt Amelia?’ she asked, doing her best not to be distracted.
‘Most helpful,’ Trelawney replied, shrugging into the waistcoat he’d brought. Watched by Amanda and Jonathan, he reached into the tote and pulled out the purple cloak. He threw it around his shoulders and immediately he appeared even taller than his six-foot height. His presence, usually so carefully contained, seemed to radiate.
A barely audible sound escaped Amanda’s lips:
‘Wow.’
Trelawney slipped the rings he had been given onto his fingers. ‘Amelia reminded me that, throughout ages past, the influential have richly dressed up their, er … staff as a status symbol. And your servant ought to do you credit, Miss Cadabra.’
‘Oh he does, he does indeed, Inspector. If you’re sure you don’t mind being my …?’
‘It is a role I am content to play. Now …’
‘I’m ready,’ said Jonathan steadily.
Amanda looked at the inspector. She wished he wasn’t watching. Doing this in front of him was disquieting. Tempest softly nudged her ankle. Somehow it steeled her nerve.
I’m a witch, she said to herself, a witch with a job to do. That’s what I have to focus on.
‘Please, close your eyes, Jonathan,’ she requested. ‘And rest your head on your arms. That’s right.’
Once she was sure his lids were closed, Amanda took her mini-wand out of the pocket of Granny’s opera coat. She unsheathed it from its IKEA pencil hiding place and began with some conventional words:
‘You are relaxed. Your breathing is getting deeper and deeper … In … and out … In … and out … You are drifting off … relaxing … cusslæpath.’ At the sound of the spell-word, instantly, Jonathan was asleep.
Trelawney raised his eyebrows at the apparent ease with which she had performed the spell.
‘Impressive,’ he murmured, as Amanda checked that Jonathan was comfortable.
‘Thank you. What’ll be more impressive is if I manage to pull off what I need to do next. By the way, you know you won’t be able to come all of the way down the hall with me?’
‘Aunt Amelia has given me instructions: stand at the back, don’t speak and get you two safely out of there when it’s all over.’
‘Oh?’ Amanda was unsettled by that last. ‘Sounds like she thinks that final one could be a challenge.’
‘Only a possibility,’ Trelawney said moderately.
‘Nothing in the glass globe?’ she checked.
‘No. But she’s watching, all she can,’ he reassured Amanda. ‘And Amelia said the Oracle will speak to you in some form of ancient British-Celtic-Cornish.’
‘What?’ Amanda was dismayed.
‘But she’ll make sure you can understand her.’
‘Phew. All right. I have to get Jonathan now. That is, I have to connect with him in his dream state.’ Then in a rush of candour, she added, ‘I’ve never done this before. I have no idea if it will work, and even if it does, how long I can sustain it.’ Amanda felt she must cover all her bases. But Trelawney responded encouragingly,
‘I have confidence in you.’
‘Thank you. Oh, could you carry this, please?’ Amanda got her grandparent’s geode out of her bag. ‘It’s a gift for the Oracle.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Erm, you’ll have to be very quiet, Inspector, while I attem— perform this spell.’
‘I shall be.’
‘You know I’m not used to doing this with people around? I mean, things like this.’
‘You’ll be fine.’
Amanda turned to Jonathan’s sleeping form. This enchantment was several notches up from seeing through Tempest’s eyes. She crossed her legs, put her hands, palm up, on her knees, closed her eyes and inhaled … exhaled … Her breathing gradually slowed. In a murmur, Amanda, began to chant:
‘O Twantra Weoroldrow Vrifte, ime besidgi wou. Liefa adraelan eodha rifteunow. Liefa fordoc Jonathan Sheppard. Framth keaold keoaoldes dho keaold brystioc. Aswa gworsp pehyhtya maegal.’
There was a pause, and then a strange feeling of expansion, as though she was suddenly outdoors on a fine day.
Even through closed eyes she could clearly see what was before her. Her awareness drifted towards Jonathan. Gently, she called him. ‘Wake up, Jonathan.’
He opened his eyes, drowsily, unfocused. ‘Is it time?’ he asked quietly. At that, she gingerly opened her own.
‘Yes, please.’
Jonathan nodded. To Amanda’s relief and Trelawney’s manifest astonishment, a second Jonathan rose from the chair and stood beside the table. He looked at the inspector.
‘He’s coming as our bodyguard, remember?’ Amanda prompted.
‘I remember.’ His voice was growing in strength and his form in solidity. Strangely enough, Jonathan now seemed to see nothing wrong with his current state. Then again he’s been down there before, thought Amanda, retreating her consciousness to her body. After some wiggling of fingers and toes and rubbing of hands, she stood up.
‘Jonathan, where do you remember the opening to the cave being?’
He walked a few feet from the table and pointed down. ‘Here.’
Amanda joined him, then looked around at both men.
‘I’m going to open the … the way, through time boundary.’
Amanda had never attempted to open one so ancient. Having got this far, getting Trelawney to agree, getting the costumes, persuading Jonathan, performing potentially life-threatening magic and on a human … would this next spell even work?
Chapter 34
In the Hall of the Oracle
Amanda and her familiar took up a position by where the entrance to the cave lay, according to Jonathan. She put out of her mind that Trelawney was standing only yards behind her, drew out her wand, and held it to her heart. Looking into the air, Amanda made her request of Lady Time,
‘Hiaedama Tidterm, Hiaedama Tidterm, Ime besidgi wou. Agertyn thaon portow, hond agiftia gonus fripsfar faeryn ento than aer deygas.’
At first, there was no change. Amanda had a sense of the spell having to bore through a barrier. Then it came: the fisheye effect, the blurring, the swelling and expanding of the space before them. She had done this before but now came a significant difference in the effect of the enchantment. In front of her, a translucent circular portal was opening. It was pulsing, vibrating. Large enough for a human to pass through, on the other side of it, the cavity lay before them, not vast but large enough, and well-lit by candles in sconces.
Amanda turned to Trelawney,
‘I’ve never seen this … this gateway thing before. I have no idea how long it will hold. Let’s go through.’ Amanda gestured for their guide to lead the way. ‘Come on, Jonathan. For Mrs Pagely.’
‘Yes, for Mrs Pagely,’ he responded readily and proceeded.
She looked back at Trelawney, who nodded and followed, with Tempest as the rearguard.
The descent, at first, was a gentle slope under a low ceiling. It became a series of well-cut steps of varying but manageable height and depth, cut into the chalk. It was growing warmer as they went further down, where Amanda would have expected it to cool. Finally, they reached a bend in the tunnel, free of steps but with a ramp. Jonathan looked around at Amanda and the inspector.
‘You’d better wait here while I let her know you’ve arrived. That will show we recognise her authority to grant or refuse you an audience.’
‘I understand. What if she says no?’ asked Amanda.
‘Then, erm … we’ll have to make another appointment.’
‘Let’s hope she says yes,’ murmured Trelawney. ‘Sorry. Speak when I’m spoken to, I know.
Amanda nearly smiled, but this was all too grave for levity.
‘Please, go ahead, Jonathan.’
He disappeared around the bend. Amanda and Trelawney listened for his footsteps. It must be a huge chamber, she thought. They were able to hear his progress for some time, gradually fading in volume. Then came the wait, in breathless silence.
It was several minutes before Jonathan returned.
‘She’ll see you. Do be careful, though, Amanda.’
Trelawney spoke quietly,
‘Yes, I sense that she’s a very dangerous woman. Volatile.’
Amanda nodded. Trelawney handed her the geode. She took a breath, drew herself up to her full 5 ft 4 inches, and levitated the amethyst steadily. Having got the rock under perfect control a foot in front of her chest, she glanced at Tempest who took up a position to her left, tail up, eyes glittering with yellow fire. She proceeded at a stately pace around the corner and into the chamber. The walls seemed far away and the roof vaulted mightily overhead, disappearing into the gloom. Trelawney followed at a respectful distance until Amanda spoke over her shoulder.
‘Wait here.’
He bowed and took up his station against the wall to the right of the entrance.
Following Jonathan, Amanda maintained a dignified rate of progress across the vastness of the rock floor. She walked between parallel lines of flaming torches of various heights, set at regular intervals down the hall. Near a steam vent at the far end on the right of the cavern, the Oracle was enthroned. Her great carved chair of stone, upon a dais, was covered with fur and fleeces.
Amanda, as she neared, judged the woman to be anything between 40 and 80. Her skin was almost impossibly white, probably the result of a troglodyte existence. Her eyes were the lightest of greys, lips thin, nose sharp and hooked. Beringed hands proclaimed her wealth. The woman’s long inner robe appeared to be of fine wool, her sleeveless outer garment of fur. At her waist she wore a belt of finely wrought filigree, most likely silver, matching the diadem in her complexly plaited hair. However, the most impressive item of her apparel was a thick gold torc of cunning design, glinting around her neck in the torchlight.
Amanda was overwhelmed by the woman’s magnificence. The Oracle’s presence filled the massive space, more astounding than that of anyone Amanda had ever encountered.
This is no time to be intimidated, she told herself. Mrs Pagely. This is for Mrs Pagely … Be Granny. Be Granny.
Jonathan came to a halt before the platform. Should she bow? Granny bowed to no one. Amanda compromised with a slow nod of her head towards her chest. A register of respect but not obeisance.
The Oracle inspected Amanda, her eyes resting momentarily on the tiara, then the rings, the fur, the silk of the dress, the boots, and Tempest. Her penetrating gaze strafed to Trelawney, observing the quality of Amanda’s servant. Amanda gathered, with some relief, that the woman was sufficiently impressed.
Next, she looked at the geode, then at Amanda’s face, and her eyes narrowed, with what the latter hoped was interest rather than animosity. Amanda smoothly levitated the gift until it was level with the Oracle’s waist. The woman took it, inspected it briefly then put it aside. She appeared to have accepted the offering.
Amanda had been careful not to speak first. Granny was never rushed into speech and could out-silence anyone. Finally, the Oracle addressed her:
‘Flogh-gwragh.’
Aha, thought Amanda, that was ‘witch-child.’ She’s acknowledging my magical status. I think.
The Oracle was continuing in Cornish: ‘You are worthy.’ The contempt in her voice belied her words, however it was sufficient trade off to hear the concession that followed: ‘You may speak.’
Perran had helped Amanda prepare her opening speech in the oldest Cornish he knew.
‘Lady, gracious and wise. I come for truth. Murder, most heinous of crimes, has been committed. I come in the name of justice.’
The Oracle inclined her head. This had apparently pleased her. Amanda took the gesture as encouragement to continue.
‘All-knowing, all-seeing are you. Even unto what has
taken place above in my time.’
‘Ask your question, child.’ That was in English.
‘Why and how did she die? She one named Samantha Gibbs.’
‘That is two questions!’ came the forceful reply. Nevertheless, the Oracle closed her eyes and became very still. Amanda waited in the tense silence, broken only by the crackle of the torches and occasional hiss from the vent.
Finally, the woman spoke. Her eyes remained shut. But her voice rang out so that even Trelawney could hear words:
‘Liver dew!’
‘Liver dew?’ enquired Amanda, mystified.
There was no reply.
‘Is there any more?’
‘It is enough!’ came the answer in Cornish. The Oracle now rose. ‘You have compelled me to look into the dark!’ Even Amanda could discern the look of anger on her face. Involuntarily, she took a step back: something Granny would never have done.
Her sleeve billowing, the Oracle threw out her arm aggressively, pointing to the entrance to her mighty chamber.
‘Be gone!’
The woman’s fury seemed to have communicated itself to the very fabric of the cave. There were faint sounds of roaring and boiling below.
Amanda swallowed and retreated, though continuing to face the Oracle. Another shout issued from the throne.
‘And do not return!’ Suddenly, the woman switched to Cornish but so old that Amanda could only mark the sounds of the words that followed. From the chasm, steam began to jet upwards. The cave shook. Jonathan looked at Amanda wide-eyed and gestured to her to move faster.
She turned and began to walk more hurriedly, but the cave floor seemed to be heaving like the ocean. They had made it about halfway down the hall, when cracks started to appear. Vapour was gushing forth noisomely, and water was visible in the fractures, flowing below. They seemed to be on an ice-flow of thin rocks.
Trelawney tried to move towards them, but the ground reared up steeply before him, sending him back towards the entrance to the tunnel. What should have been a walk had turned into a leaping hike. Easy enough for a cat, but the upheavals beneath their feet sent Amanda and Jonathan in opposite directions, as the floor separated in two slabs rearing up to a point. Regaining their balance, they each began to make progress, but Amanda’s side of the cave was the more brittle.
