Storm Child

by Sharon Sant

  ‘You’d better get Chester. I’ll do my bit.’

  ‘Good girl. You know it makes sense. We can take Chester with us, we’d be there and back in no time at a good gallop.’

  Polly turned for the stables, but Annie’s voice halted her.

  ‘Poll…’

  ‘Yes, sweet?’

  ‘What if I can’t make Isaac better?’

  ‘I don’t know. But you ain’t goin’ to do it from behind that door so first things first.’

  Ten minutes later Polly had Chester saddled up and was leading him out into the yard.

  ‘Stay there, that’s a good boy…’ She ruffled his mane before going to the cellar door. ‘I got him. You do your bit now.’

  Polly backed away from the door as Annie began to sing. Polly’s eyes became wide and vacant as the music poured through her – clean and pure like nothing she had ever heard before, as if it could cleanse her very soul. It wasn’t meant to enchant her, but she almost felt as though it was. Then Chester shook himself a couple of times, before seeming to succumb to the spell too. He turned himself to face away from the door, and, in two sharp kicks, it was open. Annie tumbled out and the spell was broken. Chester reared up and Polly ran to grab his reins.

  ‘There, there now… ain’t no need for that,’ she soothed.

  Once he was calm, Polly clambered into the saddle, reaching for Annie and helping her up too. A quick flick of the reins and a dig of the heels, and Chester was galloping out through the open courtyard gates and into the night.

  Nineteen:

  ‘That was a neat trick,’ Polly called over her shoulder as Chester raced through the countryside. The cold night air froze as it whipped their faces, making Annie’s eyes water. ‘All that time we were on the streets doing pretend magic an’ you could do real magic.’

  ‘I didn’t dare tell you.’

  ‘I’ll keep your secret.’

  Annie didn’t reply. Polly realised she probably deserved Annie’s distrust and thought better of pushing the subject. Right now, her mission to save Isaac was the most pressing concern. A chill ran through her that had nothing to do with the frosty night. Urging Chester on faster, she tried not to think about being too late. Whatever happened with Isaac, Ernesto would want to know how Annie had come to be freed from the cellar, how Chester had come to be missing along with the both of them, and where they had been, but she tried not to think about that either.

  Without any means of telling the time, Polly could only guess that it was around midnight when they arrived back at the tiny cottage on the heath. Despite the lateness of the hour, puddles of warm light still spilled from the windows and Polly detected movement inside. Polly and Annie both slid from Chester’s saddle and tied him loosely to the garden fence. Grabbing Annie’s hand, Polly pulled her to the door and hammered on it.

  Mrs Harding hadn’t managed to utter a word before Polly had pushed impatiently past her, dragging Annie in her wake. ‘He’s still with us?’ she asked, heading for the bed. Charlotte was sitting on a chair next to him. She nodded, although Polly herself could see clearly that he was barely clinging on to life, his chest rising and falling in stuttering breaths.

  Annie clapped a hand over her mouth, unshed tears shining in her eyes. ‘Poor thing…’

  ‘Never mind poor thing. Just like that clotpole to get himself knocked over the head,’ Polly replied briskly. ‘What I need to know now is can you fix him?’

  ‘I don’t… I don’t know…’

  ‘You got magic! I’ve seen you heal.’

  Charlotte shot a sharp glance at her mother, and they both stared at Annie.

  ‘I didn’t know he would be this bad,’ Annie whispered.

  ‘I told you he was dying,’ Polly snapped.

  ‘Yes but… now that I seen him…’ Annie took a deep breath and sniffed back her tears. ‘I’ll try my best.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Mrs Harding asked uncertainly.

  ‘Annie here can heal him,’ Polly said, not moving her eyes from Isaac. Annie was now kneeling beside him, her hands laid on his forehead and her own eyes closed in concentration.

  ‘You’re certain of that?’ Charlotte asked.

  ‘Well, it’s better tryin’ than waiting around for him to die, ain’t it?’ Polly shot back.

  ‘It’s just that…’ Charlotte sighed. ‘Is there anything we can do to help?’

  ‘You can stop your yakking for a minute and let her concentrate,’ Polly replied.

  Charlotte clamped her mouth shut with a frown. Mrs Harding took her daughter gently by the arm and led her away from the bed. ‘Let them do what they must, Charlotte. Celia is right.’

  Polly looked up for a moment, a faint look of surprise on her face. But if she had thought to put them right about her name, her attention was drawn back to the bed as Annie began to sing softly.

  All three women froze and stared at Annie as the beautiful but unearthly sound poured from her. Delicate notes echoed around the small room; Annie’s eyes were closed tight and a frown furrowed her forehead. And then the music swelled, Annie straining to reach the highest phrases. It seemed to fill every head, until their surroundings dissolved and all that filled their consciousness was music. Louder, higher, the very air itself humming, until finally Annie became quiet again. Then all was still. For a long time, nobody had the strength to speak. But then Polly broke the silence.

  ‘He ain’t woke up,’ she said in a dull tone.

  ‘No,’ Mrs Harding replied. ‘But his breathing seems easier.’

  They all looked closer to see that she was right. Isaac was now calm, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. Some colour had returned to his cheeks too, so that he now looked as though he was sleeping.

  ‘Should we leave him?’ Charlotte asked doubtfully.

  ‘Yes.’ Annie turned to them now. She seemed pale, like a ghostly copy of herself, paler than Polly had ever seen her. ‘He needs to rest. I can only heal him so far – the rest is up to his own body.’ She pushed herself up to stand, and lurched sideways.

  Charlotte ran to catch her.

  ‘I don’t feel right…’ Annie mumbled.

  She fainted in Charlotte’s arms.

  ‘NO!’ Isaac screamed and bolted up. It took a moment for his eyes to focus and he stared around without comprehension. ‘Where’s Ernesto?’

  Charlotte rubbed her eyes. She had fallen asleep at the table, as had her mother and Polly, neither of whom had stirred, despite Isaac’s outburst.

  ‘He’s gone. You’re safe now,’ Charlotte said gently.

  It seemed that Isaac’s memory suddenly came flooding back. ‘He took her, didn’t he? I couldn’t stop him,’ he replied bitterly.

  ‘None of us could stop him,’ Charlotte said.

  Isaac sighed and let himself fall back onto the bed, watching absently as the fire in the grate reflected dancing shadows on the ceiling. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. He turned to look at her and then noticed Polly leaning on the table, a tumbling mass of black curls spilling across the wood. ‘How did Poll get here?’ he frowned.

  ‘Poll?’ Charlotte followed his gaze. ‘But that’s Celia…’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Not Celia at all then? I thought she reacted strangely when I called her by that name last night.’

  Isaac couldn’t help a small smile of his own. ‘I don’t know what I’m goin’ to do with that one.’

  ‘I think she loves you very much.’

  ‘Polly?’ Isaac forced out a short laugh. ‘She don’t love nothin’ but Ernesto’s fortune. I found that out the hard way.’

  ‘That’s not how it looked last night. She was beside herself with worry for you. That’s why she went to fetch your friend.’

  ‘Worry? Why should she worry about me? Nothin’ wrong with me, is there?’

  ‘Don’t you remember?’ He shook his head in a tiny movement.‘You hit your head. We thought… well, we thought that you were dying.’

  ‘Was I? That’s strange. I
could eat a horse and sleep for a month but I’m sure I ain’t dyin’.’

  ‘That’s because the witch healed you.’

  ‘Witch?’ Isaac scratched his head. ‘Am I still asleep? When did all this happen?’

  ‘Last night.’

  Isaac gave her a lopsided smile. ‘Well, if that’s all true, then I should probably thank this witch when I see her.’

  ‘She’s asleep in the bedroom right now. I think it somehow drained her, healing you. As soon as she had done it she fell into a swoon and she hasn’t woken since.’

  Isaac’s smile faded. ‘But she’s alright, ain’t she?’

  ‘We don’t know.’

  ‘I want to see her,’ Isaac said, pushing himself up again. He made to get out of bed.

  ‘You might as well let her rest,’ Charlotte insisted. ‘You need to rest too, don’t forget. She said that her healing would only go so far and that your own body needed to do the remainder, which means that you avoid exerting yourself.’

  Isaac looked as though he would argue for a moment, but then relaxed and nodded. He gazed at Charlotte thoughtfully. ‘What will you do now?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About the little ‘un?’

  Charlotte shrugged. ‘She seems lost now for sure. Your friend said that she had already been taken from Dr Black’s home as far as they could tell.’

  ‘I’ll find her.’

  ‘You know where she’s been taken?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Isaac grimaced. ‘But I’ll take great pleasure in persuading old Ern to tell me.’

  ‘He almost killed you last time you tried to stop him.’

  ‘I weren’t ready last time. I won’t make that mistake again.’

  Charlotte shook her head slowly. ‘Why would you risk your life for us? For Georgina?’

  Isaac shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But what Ernesto is doin’ don’t seem right, that’s all.’

  Polly stirred and groaned as she lifted her head from the table. Isaac looked at her expectantly, something very like hope shining in his eyes. It was clear that whatever he had said about Polly only loving Ernesto’s fortune, deep down, he wanted it not to be true. Slowly, she focused on him. And then her eyes grew wide, all traces of sleep gone.

  ‘Isaac!’ she launched herself and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him full on the lips.

  Isaac sat stock still, apparently in shock from Polly’s unprecedented show of emotion. She pulled away and he grinned broadly. Then she smacked him on the arm.

  ‘Ow!’ he cried. ‘What did I do?’

  ‘You damn near died, you great lump of uselessness!’

  ‘It weren’t my fault!’

  ‘You was the one standing in the way of Ern’s fists!’ Polly fell back onto her heels on the floor beside his bed with a sullen pout.

  ‘Ain’t you gonna kiss me again?’ Isaac asked with a mischievous smile.

  ‘You’re lucky I don’t thump you again. And you damn near killed Annie.’

  ‘Annie?’ Isaac asked with a frown. ‘How did I do that? She weren’t here.’

  ‘She came to heal you, didn’t she? And fell all of a swoon doin’ it.’

  Isaac’s frown deepened. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Annie has magic.’

  ‘She does?’ Isaac scratched his head, a confused look on his face which was suddenly illuminated by understanding.

  Polly nodded. ‘See what you can work out when you use that noggin of yours?’

  ‘She said…’ Isaac nodded towards Charlotte, ‘sorry, Miss, I don’t know your name…’

  ‘Charlotte Harding.’

  ‘Yes, Miss Harding said that the witch were asleep in the other room. That’s Annie then?’

  ‘You don’t have to call me Miss Harding,’ Charlotte cut in, blushing slightly. ‘Charlotte will do just as well.’

  Isaac shot her his most winning smile.

  Polly rolled her eyes. ‘Didn’t take you long to start with the flattering looks, did it?’

  He turned to Polly, ignoring her chastisement, and his expression became earnest. ‘Poll, what are we goin’ to do about the nipper?’

  ‘Georgina?’ Charlotte asked. Isaac nodded. ‘You said you didn’t know where she was taken to.’

  ‘I don’t. But I reckon we could get old Ern to tell us, eh, Poll?’

  Polly folded her arms and stared at him. ‘How do we do that?’

  ‘We’ll… tell him we’ll leave him if he don’t.’

  ‘He’ll just buy new orphans. It ain’t like there’s a shortage.’

  ‘Then we’ll threaten him.’

  ‘He nearly killed you!’

  ‘He can’t kill all of us at once. And Annie has magic.’

  Polly huffed. ‘Not that she can do much with it. Animals and healin’ she says. Hardly goin’ to frighten Ern, is it?’

  Isaac looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘The wolves!’ he suddenly yelped. ‘Annie can do magic on animals you say? What about she gets the wolves on him?’

  ‘At the moment she ain’t gettin’ wolves on anyone. She’s still sleeping and who knows when she’ll wake.’

  ‘Perhaps we should try to wake her?’ Charlotte asked tentatively. ‘It may be that she is ill and we’re simply waiting here for her to rouse not knowing.’

  ‘I reckon she’s plain worn out,’ Polly replied sagely. ‘She’s used so much magic on Isaac that she’s exhausted herself. Give her more time.’ Polly stretched and yawned. ‘I wouldn’t thank you for waking me if I were in a nice bed.’

  Isaac shifted uncomfortably. He glanced at Charlotte. She seemed to guess his thoughts.

  ‘I’m sure you could sleep by the fire for a time if Isaac is well enough to leave his bed,’ Charlotte offered.

  Polly waved her hand vaguely. ‘I don’t need it. Let goat-brains have the bed a while longer.’ She stood up and smoothed a hand down her billowing skirts. ‘I’m off to see if Chester is alright.’

  Isaac watched Polly pull a white crocheted shawl around her and head for the door. ‘Where did you get that?’ he asked. Polly stopped and turned around.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The shawl. You usually have that old coat on.’

  Polly glanced at Charlotte. ‘Your mother gave it to me. She went to a chest in her room to fetch something… said my old coat was so worn it was worse than useless. Happen it was an all.’

  Charlotte smiled. ‘She’s always kind and generous…’

  ‘Even to them that don’t deserve it, eh? That’s what you’re thinking ain’t it?’ Polly said.

  ‘No,’ Charlotte replied. ‘I was thinking that it suits you. It brings out the colour of your hair.’

  ‘That it does…’ Isaac agreed.

  For possibly the first time in her life, certainly the first time Isaac had ever witnessed it, Polly blushed. She turned quickly back to the front door. As she opened it, the first pink lights of dawn could be seen over the heath. She closed it quietly again, and Isaac turned to Charlotte with a wry smile.

  I might be a clotpole,’ he said. ‘But I’ll get your little ‘un back.’

  ‘How?’ Charlotte replied. She shivered slightly and shifted her chair closer to the fire. ‘Where does one even begin with such an overwhelming task?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Isaac shook his head slowly. ‘But it’s my fault she’s gone and I intend to make amends. I promise I will find her and that’s all you need to know.’

  ‘It took great courage for you to stand up the man… Ernesto,’ Charlotte said. ‘And yet, despite knowing that he almost killed you, you intend to go back and try again.’ Isaac nodded grimly. Charlotte paused. ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Calls himself our guardian. More like a slave owner if you ask me. He buys us from the orphanage or he finds us on the streets; Annie and her sister were the last to arrive. Was a time I were grateful for it, at least I had a roof over my head and no whippin’ every morning like the nippers at the workhouse, but not any more…’ Isaac rubbed a han
d through his long fringe. ‘Not at the price Ernesto asks anyway.’

  ‘Why was he so desperate to get Georgina back? And why doesn’t he come for the rest of you?’

  ‘I stood up to him so I reckon he’s finished with me. He perhaps don’t realise Annie and Poll are gone yet. As for the little ‘un…’ Isaac fell silent, staring moodily into the fire. ‘As for the little ‘un…’ he repeated quietly, ‘I can only imagine. I reckon Polly knows more than she’s lettin’ on though.’

  ‘You and Polly…’

  Isaac looked up and the darkness cleared from his expression, just for a moment. ‘She pretends she’s all high and mighty, but I know Poll’s soul better than anyone, and she knows mine.’

  They were interrupted by Charlotte’s mother stirring in her chair. Her eyes opened and she gave a broad smile as she saw Isaac sitting up.

  ‘Oh thank goodness! We were so worried about you.’

  Isaac grinned. ‘That’s awful kind of you, but there weren’t no need. It’d take a lot more than ol’ Ernie Black to keep me down.’

  Mrs Harding nodded. ‘I’m sure that’s true. Charlotte…’ she turned to her daughter, ‘have you checked on Annie?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Charlotte returned with a slightly guilty look. She had been so engrossed with listening to Isaac that she had found herself not wanting to leave his side. Still reluctantly, despite the guilt, she rose from her chair. ‘I’ll go now, Mother.’

  Mrs Harding raised her hand. ‘Stay. I’ll go. I will be able to gauge her condition better than you.’

  At the moment she rose to go into the bedroom, Polly returned, a blast of cold air roaring through the house in her wake.

  ‘As soon as Annie is awake, we’re going to rescue her sister,’ Isaac said. The tone of his voice invited no argument. Polly simply nodded.

  ‘That’s if she wakes,’ was all she offered in reply.

  ‘You’re not going to make a fuss?’ Isaac said, slightly taken by surprise that she had not contradicted his statement.