by Glen L. Hall
He got up and started pacing about on the lawn.
‘Oscar said the Dead Water was lost right back at the beginning,’ he added.
Emily shivered. ‘Oh, it’s making my head spin! I just wish it would all stop and you could go back to Oxford and I could visit you.’
Sam looked up and smiled suddenly. ‘I’d love that too. But in the meantime,’ he went on, frowning again, ‘I’m supposed to create a fellowship out of thin air and go to Holy Island for this talisman. That much I do know. So that’s what I’ll have to do. But the main thing is to speak to Oscar and find out who the child was.’
‘Aren’t the professors already onto that? Shouldn’t you just concentrate on the fellowship and getting to Holy Island?’
Sam stopped beneath the gate with the iron circle and tree. ‘I want to know whether that child was you or me.’
Emily looked up in bewilderment. ‘Need it be either of us?’
‘Well, look what’s happened to us!’ Sam exploded. ‘What’s still happening! Doesn’t that tell you anything? And remember the Grim-were. Who is it looking for? I think that child was you.’
Emily instinctively shrank away from him. ‘Don’t shout like that! I think it was you. But it might be Angus. It might be someone else entirely.’
‘That’s why I need to speak to Oscar. To find out who that child was.’
‘What if you don’t like what he tells you? What if it is you? What if it’s someone we don’t even know? Will we have to track them down and take them to the Darkhart with us?’
‘We might have to.’
The tranquillity of the gardens had been shattered after all. Walking separately, Sam and Emily went back the way they had come, cutting through the Wild Garden and across the Bog Garden, not speaking except when they said hello to a solitary gardener who was on his hands and knees trimming the edges of the lawn.
They eventually made it back to the private garden, which was still deserted save for darting blackbirds and sparrows.
‘Come with me,’ said Sam as he opened the large oak door and went back into the house.
He started opening doors until he found the way to the main hall. They stood before an elegant staircase that split in two, leading to a landing of dark polished oak.
‘I don’t know the exact way there,’ said Sam, ‘but last night when we were on the hill looking down at the hall, I noticed a glass dome. And where there’s a glass dome, there’s a reading room, and where there’s a reading room, there’s a Way-curve, and where there’s a…’
‘I get it,’ interrupted Emily. ‘You’re going to try and communicate with Oscar. But I thought it was dangerous to use the Way-curves. I thought it could potentially draw the Shadow to you. And you may not like what Oscar says anyway.’
‘Whatever it is, I need to know.’ Sam took hold of the smooth banister and looked out across the hallway. ‘And now we no longer have the letter, the Way-curve is the only way.’
‘Be careful,’ Emily warned.
‘I will. Come on.’
The staircase joined the west wing with the main hall. Sam came to two large doors and first tried to push and then pull, but nothing happened. There was no sign of a lock, so he placed his shoulder against the door and gave it a little shove, but again nothing happened.
‘Let me try.’
Sam looked at Emily. ‘What?’
‘Don’t look at me like that – move over.’
Sam stepped aside and Emily placed her hand on the hard wood and gently pushed. The doors swung inward and they were met with warm but stale air.
‘How strange—’ began Sam.
Emily did not wait for him to finish, but pressed on through the doors. He quickly followed her into a second musty corridor with painted oak panels that were peeling in places.
‘You don’t have any idea where this reading room is?’
‘No,’ came the short answer.
‘It’s probably on the opposite side from Kenrick’s living quarters.’
They met another set of double doors that would only open for Emily. Sam reflected on this as they moved across an open landing and looked down into the great hall, which was lit by several immense Georgian windows. Even from here he could feel the warmth of the sunlight coursing through them.
Not stopping to admire the architecture or the paintings hanging from their dusty perches, they went on. A third set of double doors was open, revealing the high ceiling of a short corridor, and just after those the door to a room also stood open.
Sam put his finger to his lips, warning Emily not to say a word as they approached.
Walking as softly as possible, they entered a room that could easily have been the reading room of the Seven Stories. High above them was a glass dome, with the afternoon sun streaming through and glinting off the dark oak floor, whilst in the middle of the room was a circular table with number of chairs.
They jumped as the doors behind them softly clicked shut. No one had entered. But then Sam felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Someone was here already. At the far side of the room was a solitary figure silhouetted against the light from one of the large windows.
‘Please tell me it’s not…’ Emily whispered.
Sam almost turned back to the door, but it was too late. The figure had seen them and was making its way across the room. Sam felt his stomach knot as a thin smile crossed Morcant Pauperhaugh’s face.
‘Well, well, Sam, Emily, we finally meet again. Kenrick tells me you’ve been on quite a journey.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Sam asked nervously. This time there was no locked gate between them, and Morcant, for all his smiles, looked every bit the villain.
‘I was sent here to seek help from Kenrick.’
‘Of course,’ thought Sam, ‘Kenrick mentioned that he had had two visitors. He just didn’t say that one of them was still here.’
‘Come on,’ Morcant raised both hands in the air in mock submission. ‘You both look as though you are about to faint. Sit down. I’m just relieved that you’re both fine.’ He smiled again, showing yellow and broken teeth.
Sam couldn’t help but feel Morcant was enjoying catching them both off-guard. He could feel his dislike for the man surging with every passing second.
‘How—?’
‘Before you ask, I was sent here by Brennus.’
‘Why?’
‘Sam,’ Morcant smiled his thin smile, ‘you know that in the coming days we will need all our friends if we are to get through this war in one piece.’
‘Then why did you attack Eagan?’ Emily almost hissed. It seemed her shock had already reverted to hostility.
Morcant turned his unsettling pale blue eyes on her. ‘Whatever you have been told, dear cousin, just remember, there are always two sides to every story. And remember you are as much of a Pauperhaugh as I am.’
‘No, I’m not!’
Morcant seemed unruffled. ‘As I said before, we ought to stick together. I have the confidence of Brennus, Drust and Jarl. Surely I deserve a little of your respect too.’
‘Then why did you disagree with everything they said in the bookshop?’ Emily asked bluntly.
‘Of course, it had been Morcant who had disagreed with Brennus going to the Dead Water,’ thought Sam. With a sinking feeling, he wondered whether he had been right after all.
‘I was concerned that they would be taking Sam to the very place the enemy would expect him to go,’ Morcant explained, ‘and that he would walk into a trap. Being a true Pauperhaugh,’ he glanced at Emily, ‘I am naturally suspicious of the motives of others.’
Emily scowled.
‘I am just glad you have found your way to Kenrick,’ Morcant continued. ‘He is a good man and does not suffer fools gladly. Nor is he interested in the politics of the foolish.’
�
��The foolish?’ Sam thought. ‘Does he mean the professors?’
‘You seem to be full of answers,’ Emily snarled.
Finally she seemed to have got beneath Morcant’s skin. ‘Sometimes, Emily,’ he hissed, ‘just like your mother, you have too much to say!’
But then he seemed to recover his poise.
‘Look, this is all unhelpful,’ he went on more smoothly. ‘If you wish, I will tell you what I would have wanted. I would have wanted everyone to come here, in the present, to discuss matters, rather than listen to the voices of the past.’
It sounded reasonable, but Sam still felt uneasy. Why not learn from the past? What had Morcant learned? How much did he know?
‘You know Eagan is here?’ It would seem Emily had changed her mode of attack.
A flicker of fear passed across Morcant’s face, but it was gone in an instant. ‘Yes, Kenrick mentioned that Eagan had nearly drowned you both in the sea.’
His swift response hit home and Sam saw Emily’s cheeks turn slightly redder.
‘If wasn’t for Eagan, we would never have made it ashore,’ she retorted. ‘My mother hasn’t a bad word to say about him.’
‘I bet she hasn’t. You can’t say the same about your father, though, can you?’
Sam didn’t like how the conversation was turning tribal. ‘Emily’s right. If it wasn’t for Eagan, we would never have got here in the first place.’
Morcant turned away. ‘Eagan Reign is a man whose temper will end up getting him into big trouble. I just hope you aren’t with him when it happens.’
Remembering the old school house, Sam could not disagree.
Meanwhile Emily was determined to push home her advantage. ‘He will be here soon,’ she said brightly, ‘and you can tell him that to his face.’
‘I can’t wait,’ said Morcant drily.
For a moment silence fell. Sam couldn’t help wishing Eagan would walk through the door at that very moment, but he didn’t. Instead Morcant crossed his arms and fixed his pale blue gaze on him and Emily.
‘Don’t you think that I’m a little obvious to be your traitor, Sam?’
Sam flushed. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I’m sure you do. Brennus mentioned in our little meeting that there was a traitor amongst us, remember? And I always say you can’t judge a book by its cover.’
‘I’m not in the mood for word games,’ Sam growled.
He took a step towards Morcant, who instantly took a step back.
‘Would you prefer to dance then?’ he mocked.
Suddenly Sam had had enough. He didn’t want to waste a moment more talking to Morcant Pauperhaugh. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I wouldn’t. I’m going to wait for Professor Stuckley and then decide what to do.’ He turned to Emily. ‘Are you coming?’
Emily nodded and with a little contemptuous shake of the head turned on her heel.
‘You have it all wrong!’ Morcant called after them as they left the room.
Sam didn’t look back.
‘Where are we going?’ enquired Emily.
‘We’re going out into the garden while we wait for Morcant to leave. Then we’re going right back to that Way-curve.’
‘Okay.’
They reached the main staircase without pausing and were soon down its steps and back out into the warm sunshine.
* * * * * *
The day was warm and they put together a picnic of fruit and sandwiches and spent the early evening strolling beneath the trees of the Island Walk. Sam told Emily more about the Faerie woman he had met. Somehow he knew that the feeling of ease and security at the hall was because of her.
Inevitably, though, he also wondered about Morcant Pauperhaugh. Why didn’t he really like or trust the man, especially when it was clear that Brennus, Drust and Jarl did? Or was it clear? But then Morcant had been at the meeting at the Seven Stories and Brennus had sent him here. So what was it?
It wasn’t just the way he looked, Sam decided. That wasn’t particularly pleasant, but there had to be more to it than that. The confrontation outside his mother’s house in Gosforth hadn’t helped matters, but to be fair to Morcant, it had been Jarl who had sent him on the errand. Then there was the story surrounding his altercation with Eagan. Of course there were always two sides to every story, and he had only listened to Eagan’s. Sam tried hard to be fair, but he had to admit Morcant didn’t help himself with his sneering smile and patronising manner. He wondered what sort of relationship he had with Kenrick.
Emily didn’t have a good word to say about her cousin. ‘I wish we didn’t have to go back into the house and risk meeting him again,’ she said.
Sam sighed. He wasn’t keen on another encounter with Morcant either. ‘Let’s stay out here a while longer then.’ He smiled at Emily. ‘That was an easy decision to take.’
Emily smiled back, but her mind was still running on Morcant. ‘I bet he’s taken root in that reading room,’ she muttered. ‘How do we know what he’s up to?’
Thinking about Morcant led Sam’s thoughts back to Eagan. What was he up to? Was he still down by the sea trying to salvage the Celtic Flow? He felt a little guilty that he hadn’t appreciated Eagan’s pain, hadn’t understood how something made of wood could mean so much. Perhaps instead of walking through the woods, he and Emily should be down on the beach helping him, but would that be what he wanted?
They had walked several miles and were beginning to loop back through the wood towards the daffodil bank when between the turning of the light and the rustling of the fading leaves, there was a flutter.
Sam stood still. He didn’t like it.
Emily had seen the change in his face. She stopped too and looked around her. ‘What is it?’
‘There’s something happening.’
‘What?’ Emily’s voice had risen a notch.
Several caws broke out high above them, making them both jump. They took cover under an ash tree, flattening themselves against the hard trunk. High above came answering calls, from what Sam reckoned to be the north.
‘Why can’t they just leave us alone?’ whispered Emily, taking his hand.
‘They will never give up until they have answers.’
He felt a stronger fluttering in his mind.
Beside him, Emily was trying to wipe invisible cobwebs from her face. ‘I hate this,’ she said more loudly. ‘What answers are they looking for? Hey, talk to me! You’ve got your “not at home” face on, Sam.’
There was alarm in her voice. But Sam could no longer hear it. Another voice was calling. It was the voice he had heard the night they had escaped from Alnmouth, a forceful vibration that wanted you to do its bidding. But this time it wasn’t speaking to him.
‘Emily, show yourself! Come to me!’
It was beguiling, but he could see strands of both light and dark draining the colour out of the wood and he knew instantly that the voice could not be trusted.
He gently raised his hand and the light came to him and he felt a great zest lifting his fatigue until he could feel vitality surging through him. He called to the light with words that seemed nothing more than vibrations flickering in his mind’s eye, and then the voice was gone and he could see something else – the figure of a man shimmering in the distance, on a shoreline.
But even as he watched, trying to decipher the scene, he felt a sudden wave of terror as out of nowhere a roiling blackness appeared and seized the man. As he disappeared, a single word escaped the darkness and he heard it: ‘Traitor.’
Then he was back looking at Emily, who was looking at him.
‘What just happened?’ he asked.
‘You raised your hand, and as if by magic the crows fell silent, but so did the entire wood.’
Sam nodded, still a little disorientated. ‘And then what?’
‘You said the word “
traitor”.’
As she spoke, Sam felt the wave of terror all over again. That swirling blackness, the shoreline… Almost without thinking, he said, ‘The traitor’s Eagan.’
The sentence froze the air. In the sudden chill Sam and Emily looked at each other.
Then Emily howled, ‘No!’ Anger flashed from her eyes. ‘How can you say that?’
‘I know he’s your cousin—’ Sam began.
‘He may be many things, but he isn’t the traitor. He can’t be! How many times has he saved us?’
‘I saw a vision of a man on a shoreline. There was a great darkness behind him and it took him.’
‘That doesn’t mean—’
‘Listen, there’s more. I heard the Grim-Witch calling your name.’
‘My name?’ Emily looked startled. ‘She knows my name now?’
‘Don’t ask me how. But I can tell you that I could see her vibration in the flow. She’s not all darkness – there is some light in her yet. What if she is trying to help, just like the Grim-were?’
‘Sam, will you stop it?! That Grim-were was a hideous creature!’ Emily was almost in tears. ‘You’re losing your mind! How can you say these things? How can you say Eagan is the traitor when you have Morcant walking around the place?’
But Sam wasn’t having a word of it. ‘I know what I saw. And you remember what he was like at the old school house. How volatile he can be.’
‘But apart from that, all he’s done is help us,’ Emily wailed. ‘And how do you know Morcant isn’t walking around on the beach right now?’
Sam took a deep breath. ‘Eagan’s a liability,’ he said, ‘and I think we have to be prepared to listen to what the Grim-Witch has to say.’
‘So let me see if I’m following you.’ Emily was angry now. ‘You think Eagan, who has rescued us over and over, is the traitor, and you’re prepared to speak to an evil witch who sent her horde of crow-men to snatch me and kill the Forest Reivers.’
Sam flinched. Put like that, it did sound ridiculous. And yet… ‘I know what I saw and heard,’ he said stubbornly.
The feeling of security and harmony had gone. Sam was scowling and Emily was glaring at him.