by Glen L. Hall
‘I can see you have struggled greatly during the night,’ she said. Then she turned to Eagan, who was sitting next to her, and her face became troubled. ‘I couldn’t sleep last night and spent most of it in this chair watching the waves breaking until first light. I didn’t expect dawn to bring me such unexpected company. But by the look of you, Eagan, I know now why my sleep was broken. So tell me your friends’ names.’
‘I’m sorry, Alice.’ Eagan seemed to wake from a stupor. ‘You’ve heard of my cousin Emily Pauperhaugh, and this is her friend Sam Wood.’
For a second surprise and amusement flit across the old lady’s face, but then she was smiling again and saying, ‘Well, it’s a real pleasure to meet you both, Sam and Emily. My name’s Alice and you are very welcome in my home. Why don’t you rest and regain your strength for a while? Then we can have a late lunch together and you can tell me all that has happened to you.’
Sam felt the woman’s words take the last of his strength. He was ready to sleep then and there, but Emily was sitting up.
‘Can I ask you a question?’
Alice nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘I think I’ve been here before, a long time ago – is that right?’
‘Yes. You used to come here when you were a small child, with your mother and uncle. I am pleased you remember.’ She smiled and sat back in her chair.
‘Yes, of course,’ Emily said slowly. ‘Uncle Jarl came here with me – I must have only been about two or three when we stopped coming. I never understood why.’
‘My child, I’m just glad that you are here now and that we can spend a little time together.’
Alice smiled at Emily, then turned back to Eagan, and Sam couldn’t help but notice her give him a little wink.
‘Take them to the third floor, Eagan. Let them shower and enjoy their sleep.’
Eagan helped Emily up and took the blanket from her.
As Sam stood up, he grimaced at the ache in his legs. He felt as if he had spent all night running. Then he realised he had.. He followed Eagan and Emily out of the garden room, through the kitchen, with its welcoming fire, and out into the large Georgian hallway.
Eagan took them up two flights of stairs onto a landing with the most beautiful ornate banister. There was a large window at one end of the corridor and then a third staircase. Sam noticed this was in a more recent style than the rest of the house. Perhaps this floor had been added on. But this was soon forgotten as Eagan reached a thick oak door with a pattern that was only too familiar.
Emily had seen it too and her hand reached out for Sam’s.
Eagan pushed the door open and a stale smell hit their nostrils. They found themselves in a room that looked completely different from the rest of the house. Most of the roof had been replaced by a glass dome, and a beautifully crafted oak floor had several steps in the centre leading down to a circular table.
Even before Sam had fully set foot in the room, he knew where he had seen this before.
‘It’s like the reading room in the bookshop!’ said Emily, amazed.
If the last week had taught Sam anything, it was to expect the unexpected. And yet here he was again, stunned by what lay before him. He was yet to understand who the old lady was, but now he knew why Eagan had brought them here.
As he moved further into the room, he saw that there were several large windows that he guessed gave views across Alnmouth to the south, west and east, and that the round table in the middle of the room had several seats stationed around it. And, just like the one in the Seven Stories, it had a map spread across it.
The hair on the back of Sam’s neck began to prickle. Somewhere there was more, he knew it. He could feel its presence before he turned and saw it – another tapestry. Only whereas the one in the bookshop had displayed a map, this one showed five men standing outside the little boathouse on the northern bank of the estuary with their arms round each other. Smiling out into the room were Oscar, Jack, Ronald, Charles and a red-headed man he didn’t know.
‘It’s all true – Oscar was really an Inkling!’
He felt overcome by a flood of emotion, remembering Oscar facing the Shadow and the black fire engulfing him.
‘Well, I did tell you that,’ said Eagan a little impatiently. ‘When he was here in the fifties, the others would often come here to speak to him. They would spend many a happy hour in the Red Lion before walking the coastal route all the way to Holy Island. That tapestry’s based on a photo of them taken in 1960.’
‘Really…?’ Sam found himself gazing at the men’s faces. ‘Sorry, Eagan, it’s all so weird. The more I think about it, the less it makes sense. You told me Oscar was dead, too, but last night in the orchard we met him. And it was him, this Oscar – well, a slightly older Oscar.’
‘But Oscar is dead.’
‘He wasn’t dead last night,’ said Emily flatly. ‘I saw him with my own eyes. In fact he probably saved your life, Eagan.’
‘Oh, I don’t know!’ Eagan turned away. ‘I’m too tired to argue about it now.’
He walked a short distance to a row of bookcases and ran his hand along one side of the smooth wood. The bookcase swung inwards, just like the one in Sam’s room in the Fellows’ House, to reveal a narrow corridor.
Eagan walked down it, calling over his shoulder, ‘Come this way!’
Emily was beginning to look worried, but Sam gave her an encouraging smile and stepped into the corridor after Eagan. He found it led to a small room with a single window, two single beds and another door.
Eagan was standing in the centre of the room. ‘Why don’t you get some sleep?’ he said. He nodded towards the other door. ‘There’s a shower through there. I’ll come and get you when lunch is ready.’
‘Hang on – aren’t you going to tell us what’s going on?’ asked Emily suspiciously. ‘I’m guessing there’s a reason you’ve brought us here. Look at that room next door – it’s just like the reading room.’
‘I’m sorry, Emily,’ Eagan yawned. ‘I will tell you, but I need some rest myself first. We’ve all been through the wars a bit.’
‘Well, that’s true!’
Emily sat down on one of the beds, then lay down and seemed to fall asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
Eagan turned to Sam. ‘Look, I don’t know how long we can stay here. Why don’t you get some rest too? Sleep might be difficult to come by over the next few days.’
He left the room.
Sam rubbed a tired hand across his face. That reminder was the last thing he needed to hear. He crossed the small room to stand in front of the narrow window, whilst behind him Emily began to snore gently. They were still effectively on the run. And there was still that immovable paradox that he couldn’t see past. If the Shadow was back in Oxford, where it had all begun, shouldn’t there be an endless loop of it following him from Oxford to the Garden of Druids and then going back again? Oscar hadn’t stopped the Shadow – in many respects Oscar had in fact led it to him. But then again hadn’t he led it to Oscar? And round and round it went.
Sam sighed and leaned forwards, pressing his hot forehead against the glass. Looking out, he could see the black rim on the horizon that was Birling Wood. His thoughts again turned to the Forest Reivers. If they had lost the battle, then what? Would the horde come pouring out of the wood? He half expected to see crows scouting for them already, but the skies were empty and the beach spotted only with dog walkers. Sam scrutinised them, but they all looked innocent enough. Perhaps he and Emily were safe here after all. At least for now. And he was too tired to think straight. Exhaustion made the last few days feel like a dream. If the Shadow found him, he knew he didn’t have the strength to run.
Sliding down the window, he could see small boats bobbing up and down as the tide began to move against the river’s flow and the estuary widened. Then his breathing became heavier, and
the autumn sun glistening off the calm waters was the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep.
* * * * * *
Eagan stopped in front of the tapestry, rocking back on his heels for a moment, still feeling weak from the crow-men’s poison. He gazed up at the smiling men. What had they written in their letter to Sam? ‘We must tell you that Brennus and Drust are journeying to the Dead Water and are pursued relentlessly by our enemy. You cannot expect them to return to you.’
He knew that could be true. As the crow-men’s poison had flowed through his veins, he had dreamed a remarkable dream. At least he preferred to think of it that way, though at moments he believed it to be real. Someone had carried him to a dark place, a place where indistinct figures were reaching out for him, trying to pull him down into cold black waters, into a ghostly sea of the dead. He had felt their hands on him and then he had been falling into their embrace … and had surfaced to find the old man from the Blindburn waiting for him, sitting on the shore.
This time he had not been alone – Brennus had been there. He had been silent, watching, as the old man had placed a gentle and worn hand on Eagan’s head. Then the dream had quickly turned into a nightmare. Eagan had found his blood turning to fire, burning open his wounds and then flowing from him, along with the poison, into the still waters.
From those waters, as he had burned there in agony, a woman had arisen, untouched by the grasping hands of the dead. She was carrying an unconscious figure who looked like Drust, but at that moment the old man had withdrawn his hand and Eagan could remember no more.
If the place had been the Dead Water, was Brennus was alive or dead? Was Drust?
How he wished they had told him more. They had been his mentors, but he hadn’t even known they were in Oxford, masquerading as professors and protecting Sam. Why Sam? He didn’t understand it. Up until this last year Sam had simply been Emily’s friend from Gosforth. He had grown big and strong, but was awkward around people; you really had to get to know him before he opened up. Why the sudden interest in him from Brennus, Drust and his own father? But it was obvious that Sam was right in the middle of everything that was going on and that he could use the flow.
And then there was Emily. Half a Reign and half a Pauperhaugh. How his aunt could have married a Pauperhaugh was anyone’s guess, Eagan thought. He was fond of his cousin, but she was difficult. Defiant to the last word, and she’d had plenty of them. She was bright and kind and yet stubborn in the same breath. She was full of contradictions, but what else could be expected from combining the blood of two of the oldest families in Northumberland? Feuding families at that. Most people had said it wouldn’t last, and after twenty years they had been proven right. Emily’s parents were divorcing and both were more interested in trying to gain the upper hand than in the collateral damage or the welfare of their daughter. That was partly why Emily had spent most of the summer with his father, helping to manage the bookshop. He had said she could no longer bear the relentless battle for loyalty.
Eagan sighed. What was he to do with this pair? How could he keep them safe when he didn’t really know why they were being hunted? He had brought them to Oscar’s home because he really had no idea where else to go. He had visited this place several times with his father over the years. He had only been young when one day he had realised that Oscar was gone and wouldn’t be coming back, and then it had been a while, perhaps a few years, before Jarl had been able to bring himself to visit again, but Alice had always made them feel very welcome. They had of course brought her to the old school house and she had visited the bookshop once or twice. But these days she very rarely ventured out – perhaps a short walk to the edge of the estuary or the post office, but nothing more.
The night after being released from prison after the Morcant incident Eagan had come here seeking solace and had found it in a warm meal and a soft bed. He didn’t like the idea of leaving now for the wilds of Northumberland, not with the stories he’d heard from the Forest Reivers. There were things moving in the borderland he’d rather not meet, especially since he’d lost his long knives when the crow-men had attacked him. He resolved to borrow some from Alice’s kitchen. What then? He could always take refuge in the Hoods’ home at Bamburgh, but what if Brennus and Drust weren’t coming back?
His thoughts had just taken him in a giant circle. He left them hanging in the sunlit room and closed the door behind him.
* * * * * *
Sam opened his eyes. He was on top of one of the beds, still fully clothed, but somehow with a pillow under his head. When he turned to look at Emily, he realised she was awake and watching him. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were glowing and damp hair was plastered around her face. When she saw he was awake, she smiled at him.
‘Have you had a shower?’ he asked. ‘You look—’
‘What? Clean?’
‘Well, now you mention it, yes!’ Sam laughed.
As Emily joined in, it was almost as though they’d woken from a bad dream and the events of the last six days had never really happened.
‘How long have we slept?’ asked Sam, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position.
‘I don’t know how long, but I think that was the best sleep I’ve ever had. I feel really rested.’
‘So do I. My headache’s completely gone. My legs and back – not a thing!’ Sam grinned. ‘Do you think we can just go home now?’
‘What?!’
For a split-second Emily almost smiled, but her expression quickly changed. Looking away from him, she frowned and started twisting her wet hair through her fingers.
‘I don’t know. I don’t think…’ She stopped speaking and looked back at Sam. ‘Do you remember what happened when we entered the orchard?’
‘What – the leafless trees and the cold weather…?’
‘No. Well, yes, but not just that.’
She shuffled to the end of her bed and sat hunched over, remembering.
‘You were speaking a language I couldn’t understand,’ she said slowly. ‘There was a light coming from your left hand – a light which moved with your voice. It lit up your face and for a moment I didn’t even recognise you. You looked so different…’ She shivered. ‘When that creature dropped Eagan, I didn’t know who I was more frightened of, you or it.’
Sam felt his face flush. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled. He remembered there had been light, colour and voices, but he couldn’t remember speaking, or any light coming from his hand.
‘Even though I must have been standing twenty feet from you,’ Emily continued, ‘I could somehow feel your words as vibrations in the air, or in my head, or both.’
She looked up, clearly expecting an explanation, but Sam was silent.
‘I think I saw it in your garden, too, the night the Grim-were came. Or rather, I didn’t see it, but I felt it. I was behind you, on the other side of the lawn, but I could feel tingling across my face – the same feeling I got when we met Oscar. It was as if the light was reacting to your words.’
‘A tingling?’ asked Sam. He moved to the edge of his bed, opposite Emily. ‘When I met the Keepers at the Eagle and Child, I could feel an electricity. And then when I saw Oscar and the Shadow in the tapestry at the Seven Stories, I felt it again.’
In the small bedroom they looked at each other across a sea of swirling dust caught in a cascade of autumn sun.
‘At your house,’ Emily went on, ‘there could have been someone standing there with you as well, or it could have been a reflection from the light.’
Sam nodded. ‘The Fall.’
They were both silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.
Then Emily said, ‘Oscar told you she was dying… The old man told you as well. That’s why these things are getting into this world – she’s the barrier that’s been keeping them back.’
‘Yes.’ Sam suddenly felt tears coming
into his eyes. He looked away.
Emily frowned, trying to piece it all together. ‘But didn’t Oscar tell you what needs to be done about it? Didn’t he show you that circle with the crumbling statues?’
‘No, he didn’t show me it exactly, but I came across it after meeting him – when he disappeared in the Fellows’ Garden and I was looking for him. But he did say the Circle was broken.’
‘Yes, Sam,’ said Emily impatiently, ‘and didn’t he say only the bloodline of the Druids could mend it?’
‘Er…’
‘Listen, Sam,’ Emily took a deep breath and stared straight into his eyes, ‘you are related to that bloodline.’
‘Oh, I don’t know—’
‘You don’t know anything about your father, right? Or not much? That’s why. And it’s why they’ve been protecting you. It’s why Brennus and Drust have been parading as professors – to keep an eye on you. They made up an entire college to keep you close to them! Think, Sam, when Oscar showed us the stone circle, you said you’d already seen it back in Oxford. You – it all revolves around you. Come on, Sam, help me out a little – don’t you think it could be true?’
Sam looked away. It was a conclusion that should have pleased him, made him feel special, but it didn’t. He didn’t believe it. Not after meeting the Grim-were.
‘I’m not sure,’ he muttered.
‘Not sure? I don’t understand you at all!’ Emily complained. ‘When you told me about the Shadow back in Gosforth, I didn’t believe you, but now the whole thing’s making sense. In fact, Oscar had already given you the answers. That’s why he appeared in Oxford in the first place. And why he protected you in the Garden of Druids – why he sent the Shadow back.’
A shudder ran through Sam at the mention of the Shadow. He kept his face turned away from Emily, unable to look her in the eye. When Oscar had sent the Shadow back, he hadn’t been protecting him, but her. Somehow the Shadow had known he would lead it to her. That’s why it had let him get away from the Fellows’ House and let him live at the gates of Magdalen.