The Fall (The Last Druid Trilogy Book 1)

by Glen L. Hall

  His eyes darted from name to name, whilst his hands moved over familiar places.

  ‘Look, there’s Magdalen College, Addison’s Walk, Angel Meadow…’

  The names were handwritten on the map in a beautiful flow of calligraphy crossing river and hill.

  ‘This is everywhere I’ve ever been in Oxford,’ Sam said wonderingly. ‘In fact, it places Magdalen at its centre.’

  Then recognition turned to unease. Someone had marked the map with a red line. It ran from the Fellows’ House to the Cherwell and Bat Willow Meadow before continuing down Addison’s Walk and through the Water Meadow to Magdalen College, across the Grove, up through Longwall Street and then along Holywell Street, cutting through the Lamb and Flag Passage and crossing St Giles before stopping at the Eagle and Child. Sam felt sick.

  ‘It’s not only a map of Oxford, Emily, but a map of my flight from the Shadow. Only the professors know the exact route. What’s your uncle doing with it?’

  Emily turned to him, her face a mixture of exasperation and concern. ‘I don’t know, Sam.’

  Suddenly there were tears in her eyes. She looked down quickly and turned the key over in her hand.

  ‘What did you mean by the circle with the unknown tree?’

  ‘It’s the emblem of Cherwell College. Representing both the beginning and the end.’

  ‘But there is no Cherwell College, Sam.’

  ‘Then explain why there is a map of Oxford, right here, a map of the route I took to escape the Shadow.’

  Emily sighed. ‘I just don’t know. Anyway, you’ve seen it now. Let’s go – I don’t think we should stay here too long, not with my uncle downstairs and people coming and going.’

  * * * * * *

  As Emily turned the key in the lock and headed for the lower floors, she felt bewildered. She couldn’t help feeling upset by what Sam had said. He was becoming delusional, that much was obvious. Was he having some kind of breakdown?

  But as she walked back down the corridor, she found herself wondering about the map. If Cherwell College didn’t exist, why was it marked on it? And why was the map there, anyway? What was the connection to Sam?

  As she reached the stairwell, a sudden thought made her stop in her tracks. She’d seen the emblem of Cherwell College before. But where?

  She was still puzzling over it when she finally made it to the ground floor and saw a group of people mingling near the entrance of the bookshop and talking in hushed tones. She knew at once where they were going.

  ‘Phew – that was lucky, Sam.’

  Her uncle was already waving her over to say hello to a slightly built man with silver-grey hair and a neatly cut beard who looked as though he’d been in a ring with a bull.

  ‘Hello, Emily. It’s been a while.’

  ‘Yes, I know. Rumour has it, Brennus, that you’ve been travelling with the Forest Reivers,’ Emily replied smoothly. She hadn’t seen Brennus since he and Drust had turned up in the spring, and then it had been just a fleeting glance. Now he looked as though he hadn’t slept for a week, she thought, and how did he get that bruised cheek and black eye?

  ‘Don’t pay too much attention to those rumours,’ he replied calmly. ‘My brother and I have travelled with the Reivers in the past, but many seasons have passed since then.’

  He was looking at her with eyes ringed by age, but there was an intelligence behind them. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry, her mischief ill-placed and childish.

  Awkwardly she said, ‘Oh, Brennus, I’d like to introduce—’ but when she turned, Sam was missing.

  Luckily Brennus had been distracted by a man who had just joined him. As Emily turned her head away, she realised her uncle was watching her, a slightly bemused look on his face.

  ‘Emily, we’re holding a meeting in the reading room,’ he said. ‘Could you do me a big favour and provide tea for five?’

  Grateful for the chance to escape, she slipped from the ground floor into a side room used as a small kitchen.

  Once she had delivered the tea to the reading room, she went to look for Sam. She found him on the first floor, hidden amongst the travel books.

  ‘Where on earth did you go? I wanted to introduce you to Brennus Hood.’

  ‘Brennus Hood? That man is Professor Stuckley.’

  Emily groaned. ‘Come on, Sam, let’s talk outside.’

  She led him down the spiral staircase to the back door. All she could think of was to get him out in the open and shake him from his delusions.

  * * * * * *

  As they walked out into the sunlight, Sam’s mind was reeling. Why was Professor Stuckley using an alias? If he really was a spy, who was he spying for? Had he made the map of Oxford? How did he know Jarl? And Emily? Could he be the traitor? Were they safe here? There were too many questions. He was glad to be out in the fresh air.

  Emily was leading him down quiet cobbled alleyways back to Elmfield Road.

  ‘Let’s get a cup of tea, Sam, and you can tell me all about it.’

  She was sounding like his mother, she thought grimly.

  As they approached his house, she watched him fumble for his key. He was pale and looking around him with troubled glances. ‘How do you treat paranoia?’ she wondered, as he locked the large iron gates behind them.

  He walked towards the front door in a daze, then stopped. Something had caught his eye. He turned back.

  In the tall ash trees directly across from his home, several crows were perching. The moment Sam looked at them, they became restless, hopping about. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as they started cawing.

  ‘What is it, Sam?’

  ‘The crows. Emily, I saw them in Oxford not long before the Shadow attacked the Fellows’ House.’

  ‘Okay, Sam. Can we just get in the house and have a cup of tea?’

  ‘Wait a minute.’

  Sam was watching a crow flying up into the air. It circled once and flew directly towards the house, then wheeled sharply as it approached the high walls and alighted back where it had come from.

  ‘Those crows look bigger than usual,’ thought Emily uneasily, just as a second crow mirrored the first and turned sharply a hundred feet above their heads. ‘And they are acting a bit oddly. Feels like they are watching.’

  ‘Spying on us,’ muttered Sam.

  Emily jumped. ‘Sam! Can we just forget about the crows…?!’

  Then she jumped again, as a face was pressed against the iron bars of the gates.

  Emily and Sam wheeled round to face the pale skin and bald head of Morcant Pauperhaugh, Emily’s cousin.

  ‘There you are, Emily,’ he said. ‘Your uncle has sent me to find you. He needs you back at the bookshop.’

  He pushed at the gates, trying to open them. As he realised they were locked, a look of anger flashed across his face. For a split-second, he looked so malevolent that Emily and Sam both took a step backwards.

  ‘It’s okay, Morcant,’ Emily said, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘You can tell my uncle I’ll be back later.’

  Morcant tried to smile. ‘Come on, Emily. Why don’t you and Sam accompany me to the shop?’

  As he spoke, a third crow took off, squawking as it flew straight over the house. Morcant stepped back, watching the path the crow took. When he looked back down, Sam detected a smirk. Or was it all in his head?

  Morcant pressed himself up against the gates, his eyes darting from Emily to Sam.

  ‘What’s the matter with you? Open the gates!’

  His hands tightened around the iron bars and Emily could see him testing their strength.

  ‘No. My uncle can wait. I’m joining friends for tea.’

  Across the road the crows were becoming raucous.

  ‘Very well, very well, have it your way,’ Morcant hissed, ‘but I’ll remember your hospitali
ty when you need my help. And mark my words, there will be a day when you need my help.’

  Then he was gone.

  Sam quickly unlocked the door, ushered Emily through it, closed it with a thud and shot the bolts home.

  * * * * * *

  ‘I didn’t like that confrontation one bit, Sam.’ Emily was sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands.

  ‘No,’ Sam agreed, as he placed a mug of tea in front of her. ‘I know he’s your cousin, Emily, but I don’t like that Morcant chap. I don’t trust him either. He’s definitely up to something.’

  He sat down next to her with a mug of his own and gazed thoughtfully out of the large French windows and down the long lawn.

  ‘And so’s Professor Stuckley. Tell me what you know about him. And the man who was with him. The small one with dark curly hair and blue eyes.’

  ‘Brennus and Drust?’ Emily raised her head. ‘They are brothers from Bamburgh. They are musicians.’

  ‘No, Emily, they are the professors from Cherwell College who helped me escape from the Shadow.’

  Emily laid her head back in her hands.

  Sam stood up and went to the French windows, opening them so he could feel the sun on his face. For a moment there was silence.

  ‘Okay, Sam.’ Emily ran her hands through her hair and raised her face. ‘I admit that the map of Oxford is a bit peculiar, but no one has seen the Shadow but you. No one knows anything about it but you. Are you sure—’

  ‘Yes, they do. I know they do.’ Sam spoke without taking his eyes from the garden. ‘Listen, your uncle doesn’t want you travelling with me this summer. He warned me off it as soon as he saw me. Why was that? I just don’t know what to think. But when I meet the professor tonight, I swear I’m going to get to the bottom of it all.’

  Emily looked down at the table.

  ‘Look, I don’t want this to be happening,’ Sam went on. ‘I’m scared, and I know it sounds crazy, but you have to believe me.’

  ‘I can’t, Sam!’ Emily wailed. ‘It’s all so irrational. Colleges and shadows that don’t exist and the only proof you say you have is a letter. Well, that could have been written by anyone.’

  Sam didn’t reply.

  Emily took a sip of tea, trying to restore a sense of normality to the proceedings. She’d sat and drunk tea so often in this homely kitchen and Sam had been rational, intelligent, full of fun. He’d been a good friend for so long, someone she’d looked up to…

  ‘You need to look at this.’

  ‘What?’

  Sam turned and banged his hand down on the table. ‘You need to see this now!’

  Jumping to her feet, Emily went over to the French windows and followed Sam’s gaze out across the lawn, beyond the tall Victorian wall and into the trees beyond. Dozens of crows were perched there. One by one, they flew up, circled the green behind the house, headed for the garden, then wheeled sharply away and returned to the trees, some landing awkwardly.

  ‘They’re doing the same thing as the ones at the front,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Spying.’

  Emily shook her head. ‘No, please don’t get paranoid, Sam, I’m sure it is some kind of normal crow behaviour.’

  Even as she spoke, though, she felt uncomfortable.

  Sam turned to her. ‘Look, you should come with me to meet Professor Stuckley this evening. Then you can hear it from him that he’s been with me in Oxford and that the Shadow is real, and perhaps he can explain how your uncle is involved in all this. Come on, Emily, you know something’s happening. You saw the map of Oxford for yourself. And look at these crows!’

  ‘It just sounds so irrational,’ Emily said slowly, her eyes still on the crows. They kept heading towards the garden wall and then wheeling sharply to the left and right, almost, she thought, as if they had come up against an invisible wall.

  ‘Exactly, so let’s go and meet the professor and get to the bottom of this once and for all. If it’s all in my mind, well, I apologise. I’ll go and seek medical attention or something.’

  ‘But if you’re right, Sam, and this Shadow is real, then what?’

  Then what? The question jolted Sam. He had momentarily forgotten the wider issue.

  ‘You can’t answer me, can you?’ Emily was silent for a moment. Then she sighed. ‘All right. I’ll come with you to meet the professor. It’s all I can do, isn’t it?’

  But Sam had stopped listening. He was watching the crows and their acrobatic performance at the end of the garden. There were now several in flight at once, rising and then quickly arcing towards the garden wall before pivoting left and right over and over again.

  * * * * * *

  It was early evening before the crows gave up their strange dance. Sam’s mother had returned and cooked tea, and for a while normality had returned.

  Still, Sam kept thinking about the map of Oxford – how could it have got there? How could Emily’s uncle have known the route he had taken? And what about Professor Stuckley and Professor Whitehart calling themselves Brennus and Drust?

  He still hadn’t come up with any answers when he and Emily left his mother drying the plates and cutlery and set off for the Seven Stories.

  ‘What is it, Sam? You look like you’ve been stung by a wasp.’

  ‘I don’t know, Emily. I feel like a caged animal – I just can’t see the wire mesh.’

  Emily was watching him closely. ‘I don’t like you talking in riddles. It usually precedes you losing the plot.’

  Perhaps he was losing the plot, Sam thought. As the iron gates clanked behind them, he looked anxiously up and down the leafy road for any sign of the crows. The evening sun had turned Elmfield Road orange and red, and the first leaves of autumn were falling onto the cobbled pavement. Giant trees were leaning over red-bricked walls and blackbirds were darting from one secret garden to another, but, to his relief, the crows had gone.

  The walk from Sam’s house to the heart of Gosforth had always been a favourite of his. It was full of hidden service alleys and passageways, and each house was different from the next. This evening felt different – he no longer felt safe. As he walked, he was sneaking glances down the alleys, half expecting something sinister to rush out and accost him.

  Beside him, Emily was still puzzling over the events of the day. She couldn’t deny the map of Oxford in the reading room was just a little bit odd. And the crows. But no, she wasn’t going to be drawn into Sam’s world. Somehow she and her uncle were going to convince him that he must seek help. Obviously he was keeping his true mental state from his mother. That wasn’t surprising – she’d been so glad he’d got to Oxford, it would be embarrassing to admit the pressures of life there had caused him to blow a gasket.

  Emily admitted she hadn’t expected that of Sam. He’d always been such a steady character. Certainly, she’d never known him lie to her. Could what he was saying now be the truth? The thought flitted briefly through her mind before being pushed into a dark corner. Walking beside him as dusk fell, she didn’t want to entertain such a thought. As they took a short cut along a narrow path, she too began to watch out for crows. She was glad when they finally reached the bookshop.

  In the darkness, the bookcases stood like sentinels. Emily stood in the foyer and listened, making sure they were alone. Then she turned and headed for the spiral staircase.

  ‘Professor Stuckley doesn’t seem to be here yet, does he? Let’s go to the reading room. I want to take another look at that map of Oxford.’

  Sam had rarely been to the bookshop when it was closed. Every noise was amplified sevenfold. It sounded as though he and Emily were wearing clogs as they walked up the spiral staircase. The metal handrail was cold to the touch. He wondered why she hadn’t put on the light, then decided she was actually afraid of getting into trouble if they were found out. It was so unlike her, he
almost laughed.

  As they finally reached the seventh floor, they stole a quick glance at each other. The corridor looked a little sinister as they passed down it for the second time that day. Sam felt the edginess in Emily even though she remained silent. As she produced the key to the reading room, she turned to look at him and in the dim light her eyes were wide with fear. Then there was a click and the door was opening.

  A cold stale wind stroked their faces. As Sam entered the room, he noticed that Cherwell’s emblem was no longer etched on the door. The reading room had changed –there was no longer a map there, or a tapestry, only piles of dusty books and chairs arranged in a circle.

  ‘Are we in the right room?’ Sam knew the answer, but needed to hear himself ask the question.

  ‘Of course,’ Emily replied, ‘but they’ve moved the tapestry and the map. Why would they do that?’

  ‘Do they know we’ve been up here?’

  ‘I hope not – my uncle’s already warned me against letting my curiosity get the better of me.’

  ‘Just remember what it did to the cat.’

  For the first time in days, Sam found himself actually laughing out loud.

  ‘Shh!’ Emily was afraid of them being heard, but she couldn’t help smiling too.

  Sam was shaking with laughter, then, without knowing why, he started to sob.

  ‘Sam?’

  He turned away from Emily and wiped the tears from his face.

  ‘It’s just been a bit much.’ His voice quivered. ‘There’s just too much of this weird stuff going on. I don’t blame you for not believing me. If I were you, I wouldn’t believe myself either.’

  Emily found herself swallowing a feeling of guilt. Unsure how she could comfort her friend, she reached out and gave him a hug.

  Voices from outside the reading room made them spring apart. Both of them looked around wildly. There was nowhere to hide. The best they could do was to throw themselves down between an upturned table and a wall of unloved books. They lay there, hearts thumping, as people entered the room.

  THE TAPESTRY

  ‘I’m sorry for calling you back so quickly, my friends,’ Jarl said, ‘but Brennus has returned and it would appear that things are moving quickly. The Forest Reivers have been spooked – their rangers are talking of demons in the Cheviots and wolves in the fells.’