by A. W. Exley
Screaming came from the deep hole, as though some primordial creature was being tortured.
Jasper glanced to his nephew. “I need a hand, Elijah. I’m using rock in the earth to crush the drill, but it’s slow work.”
Elijah let his element flow up his arms and through him until his mind joined with the earth. The screaming echoed inside his head and made him wince. He screwed up his eyes as he reached out with his mind, gliding through the shaft to the very end, miles away.
Seconds ticked by until he found the end where his uncle worked to smash the drill. He brought rock down on the metal in a similar fashion to how Elijah had squashed the venting pipes on the boilers.
Elijah tickled the rocks surrounding the shaft, urging them to move and crush the metal. At least the shaft had stopped spinning, but the earth keened around the drill head. It was slow work; rocks never moved quickly. Together, the men worked to fill the tunnel. Rock and earth reclaimed the space. The shaft was squashed and mangled as the ground moved and heaved.
Then, realising the torment was over, the earth gobbled up the tunnel. The slow, ponderous gulps became faster and faster mouthfuls. Elijah let his mind fly back up the shaft, as this time it was the metal that screamed as it was twisted and devoured by Gaia.
He rocked back on his heels and dropped to his bottom. Sweat dribbled off his forehead and he wiped it away with a forearm. He wasn’t sure what was harder work: fighting off two men or coaxing the damaged ground to heal its wound.
A soft plop erupted from the tunnel, and a dust cloud burped upwards. Where was once a ten-mile shaft was again solid earth.
Jasper rose to his full height and held out a hand to Elijah, hauling him to his feet. “That’s taken care of; now let’s get out of here before the boilers blow.”
Elijah glanced at the four boilers. Steam was leaking from tiny splits in the pipes, and the gurgling noise grew louder. The containers started to rattle, and vibrations ran through the pipes, further loosening connections.
Delens was waiting on the other side of the door.
Elijah held out a hand to stop his uncle. “You’re not going to wipe our memories, are you?”
Delens chuckled. “I’m not daft. I want out of here and I suspect you two are my only chance.”
“This should be easy.” Jasper ran his fingers around the inside of the shackle. When he found the seam, he gripped it tighter and grunted. The metal creaked like a rusty hinge, and then a pop sounded as the seam gave way under the pressure. He pulled the chain and shackle from around Delens’s ankle.
“Who are you?” Delens asked as he kicked the chain away.
“Family to Zadoc and Verity’s daughter. Dawn would very much like to meet you, if you don’t have any other engagements this evening?” Jasper held out a hand to the Meidh.
Delens jiggled his leg and rolled his ankle that was free at last. “Can we stop at a pub on the way? I can’t remember when I last had a beer.”
“Can we leave the celebratory beer until after? We should get moving. Those boilers will blow soon,” Elijah said.
As if on cue, a loud groan came from the drilling room. The three men glanced to one another, and then trotted from the basement back into the cool night.
26
The men stopped a short distance from the mill. There they waited, anxious for the next part of their plan to unfold. They didn’t wait too long in the dark before a boom shook the trees around them and rustled the foliage. Hard on the heels of the noise, an orange pillar shot into the air and bloomed over the clouds.
“I’d say the boilers exploded.” Elijah was quietly pleased with his work.
“Flammable things, cotton mills,” Jasper said as they watched the orange paint the sky. “Let’s give them some time to rush down from the house.”
They waited another fifteen minutes, and then Jasper picked up Delens again and they flew to as close to the Hamilton house as they dared before landing among dense trees. The men ran through the protection of the forest and around the side of the building to the tradesman entrance.
Trixie stood in the courtyard, her head tilted to one side as she stared at the moon and stars above. Her back was to the orange glow that hovered above the mill.
Elijah held out an arm to stop his uncle from rushing into the courtyard. Instead, they stood in the shadows and waited.
“Hits you in the gut, doesn’t it,” Jasper whispered to Elijah.
He turned to his uncle with a frown on his face, unsure of what he meant.
Jasper inclined his head towards Trixie. “Knowing that you have found something precious and rare. You stare at her not quite believing it’s true or that she’s really yours.”
The frown fell away from Elijah’s face and he grinned. “Yes.”
Trixie turned, peered into the dark, and focused on Elijah. A smile lit her lips and she gestured for him to approach her.
“I didn’t want to startle you in the dark,” he whispered as he kissed her upturned face. He gestured to the addition to their group. “This is Delens. He was a friend of your uncle Zadoc.”
Jasper stood at the back of the group, on watch for any household members who might sneak out to watch the mill burn far below.
Trixie gasped on hearing the man’s name. “I remember my mother mentioning you. You all grew up together. You brought her the news of Zadoc’s death.”
Delens shuffled forward, the moonlight illuminating the two different sides of his face. “And your uncle captured me as I left Alma.”
“Why did they burn you?” She reached out and traced the line down the middle of his nose.
He turned away from her touch, hiding the scarred half of him in shadow. “Because I was their friend. I couldn’t tell them where Verity went, or what had happened to the thing Zadoc stole.”
She stared at him. “How did you resist such pain?”
He shrugged. “You can’t tell what you don’t know. I erased my own memories to ensure I would never betray them.”
“So much pain and suffering, Eli. Let us put an end to it tonight. My uncle and the men have all left to put out the fire. Now is our chance.” She turned to him and took his hand.
Elijah glanced to the silent house. Lights blazed from its windows, but no forms drifted past, as though the place had been abandoned in the middle of a party. “We need you to erase our passing, Delens. We don’t want to harm any staff in the house.”
Delens waggled his fingers. “To erase a moment as it occurs will be simple to do. It’s older memories that take longer and are more work.”
“We need to find Millie, too. We have promised to return her to her grandfather,” Elijah said.
Trixie pointed to the roof of the house. “She is in an attic room. You will need me to open the room where my aunt is first. Then I will fetch Millie, although she is sick and we do not know what ails her.”
Plans made, Trixie led the way back to the brightly lit house, still holding Elijah’s hand. Delens followed, with Jasper taking up the rear position. A footman walked the corridor as they entered, and he scowled at the assortment of people Trixie trailed behind her.
“Good evening,” Delens said to the man, as though he had appeared for a late supper, despite the fact that he was dressed like a tattered beggar who had been dragged through a manure pile.
As the man opened his mouth to utter some comment, Delens reached out and touched the man’s shoulder. The footman squinted his eyes and shook his head, as though he had forgotten what he wanted to say. His eyes were unfocussed as he gazed after them.
Elijah expected to climb upwards, towards the tallest spire jutting above the middle of the house, but Trixie led them to a set of stairs that went in the opposite direction, down into the cellars.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
She winked at him. “Did you really think we would keep our spirit in the highest tower where it could easily slip from a window? The phoenix is kept in the bowels of the house. It also allows u
s to use the temperature it generates for heating water and the rooms above.”
Elijah glanced to his uncle, who raised his eyebrows. All these years, they’d thought the Soarers kept their phoenix in the tallest spire, only to discover it lingered in the basement to act as a boiler.
Delens smiled at the surprised staff they passed and appeared to be enjoying himself. He reached out and touched each person like a priest delivering a blessing. Except his benediction removed the snatch of memory that recorded their passing.
They spiralled downwards until they stopped at a short corridor that ended in a solid metal door.
Trixie gestured to the empty chairs pushed to either side of a small table. “Normally, one of the men would be on guard, but I told Uncle I would sit with my aunt so all the men could help contain the blaze.”
She placed her hands on the door and closed her eyes. It was only then that Elijah realised there was no handle or any form of lock on the door. Heat shimmered under her fingers and spread across the metal. A dull click came and the door swung inward.
“How did you open the door?” he asked.
She winked and mischief danced in her amber eyes. “It needs a Soarer touch of either fire or air to manipulate the lock.”
They stepped into a room the size of a small bedroom. There were no windows, only stone walls that were charred like the bricks within a fireplace. The ceiling was some twelve feet above their heads, and the floor was made of slate tiles in a sad grey that reminded Elijah of a dreary winter’s day.
The room was dusted in shades of mottled gold, bronze, and copper, as though someone had thrown flecks of metallic paint around in a halfhearted attempt to relieve the grey. An oversized chandelier lit the room, but it looked entirely out of place, as though it had been stolen from the ballroom. Light from the candles hit the dangling crystals and rainbows tried to dance over the walls, but they were sucked into the layer of soot and vanished.
A large chaise covered in red velvet rested by one wall, and next to it was a tall marble pillar. Two gilt chairs with embroidered seats were pushed beside the chaise, ready for a visitor. A tall and slender woman reclined on the chaise. Long silver-blonde hair tumbled over her shoulder. Her features were tightly drawn, the skin pulled over high cheekbones.
A bird slept on her lap. A fine golden chain ran from the bird’s foot to the base of the pillar.
Elijah expected to find a fiery phoenix that blazed like the sun. What he found resembled a sickly rooster. Its feathers drooped and the colours were muted browns and reds. He didn’t need Trixie to tell him that the woman and bird were dying. It seemed each exhale set free a small portion of their souls, leaving only dry husks behind.
Trixie knelt beside the woman and touched her lightly on the arm. “Aunt Sylvie, I have brought visitors.”
The woman moaned and shrugged her arm away from Trixie’s touch. “No visitors. Leave me.”
Trixie leaned closer. “But this visitor is my mate, and I very much want you to meet him.”
That made Aunt Sylvie open her eyes. A clear blue gaze fixed on Elijah as the older woman struggled to sit up. The bird gave a squawk as its position was disturbed, and the noise confirmed its resemblance to a chicken in Elijah’s mind.
Trixie gestured for Elijah to approach, and he knelt beside Trixie. She laced their hands together and the Cor-vitis sprang into life and wrapped their hands in a fiery tendril.
Sylvie gasped. “Oh, Beatrice. How marvellous for you both, and yet how terrible that your uncle will force you to marry that dreadful Archie Lawson.”
Trixie took her aunt’s frail hand. “I’m not marrying Archie. I am following your most excellent advice, Auntie. We are both going to run away and escape, tonight.”
Sylvie peered at the other men behind her niece and shuddered when she reached Delens. “There is no escape. Leave us to die.”
Trixie wrapped an arm around her aunt and helped the frail woman sit upright. “My mate and his uncle are family to Zadoc’s daughter. She has sent them to finish his work. Fire will be free.”
Sylvie gasped on hearing the phrase, and her eyes widened. “Truly, Beatrice? Our clans called him a traitor for what he did, and he died most horribly. But I think he was a prophet. Will they truly set us free?”
Trixie gathered the sick bird in her arms and it draped its head over her arm. “Neither of you is going to die here in this windowless cell. We’re taking you both outside to see the stars.”
“Oh, to gaze upon the moon and stars one last time. Shall we, my old friend?” A paper-thin hand reached up and stroked the bird in Trixie’s arms.
The bird’s eyes whirled with amber irises. Then it emitted a soft trilling noise, which turned into a sharp cough. Its body jerked as it coughed and a feather fell to the ground.
Trixie glanced to Elijah and then back to her aunt. “You just need to trust me, Aunt Sylvie. These men are Elementals who will finish Zadoc’s work, but they are not of our clan, or even Soarers.”
A thin laugh erupted from the woman’s throat like a trickle of spring water. “They are gnomes, aren’t they? Who would have guessed that we needed Warders to free the spirit of the Soarers.”
Sylvie laughed to herself, Jasper spluttered, and Delens chortled.
“They prefer to be called gargoyles, Auntie,” Trixie whispered, and she settled the bird back into her aunt’s arms.
Trixie stood and tugged on the thin golden rope that had bound the bird to its pillar for all its long life. “We need to free the phoenix somehow. His chain is both fire resistant and incredibly strong.”
The three men gathered around the delicate chain. Each took turns in trying to break the links, but nothing had any effect. Jasper and Elijah both shifted to their Elemental forms and tried to rip the thin metal apart, but still nothing happened.
“The chain might be fire and gargoyle proof, but what about the pillar?” Elijah pointed to where the chain was embedded in the base of the marble stand.
Jasper grinned. “Let’s find out.”
Trixie crouched by her aunt, protecting woman and bird from any stray fragments as the two earth Elementals commenced smashing the carved marble. Musical notes echoed around the chamber as shards hit the walls. Different shapes and sizes produced different tones as they were chipped off the main block.
Before too long, Elijah called out in success. The bird was still attached to the chain, but the chain was now free of the solid block.
“I’ll carry your aunt while you fetch Millie,” Elijah said.
Trixie kissed his cheek. “I’ll meet you in the corridor where we came in. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
His mate ran from the room. Elijah picked up the woman with great care, treating her as though she were made of delicate porcelain. He wondered if her bones were hollow like a bird’s, as she was so light in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder.
Elijah stared at the bird, wondering who would be better to carry it: his uncle or the scarred Meidh. The decision was made for him when Jasper picked the bird up and tucked it under his arm like a rugby ball. The long tail feathers hung down nearly to his knee and brushed against his stone thigh.
“Let’s get out of here before the Soarers return,” Jasper said, gesturing to the door.
They crept back up the stairs, hoping the servants slumbered, catching what sleep they could before having to start their day early in the morning. They saw no one until they emerged from the stairwell.
The same dazed man who they’d passed on the way in stood in the corridor. He pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed up his eyes. Then, he looked at them with a frown. They were an odd sight. Two gargoyles, a frail woman, a sickly phoenix, and a half-burned tramp.
Delens strode up to the man and rested one hand on his shoulder. He wiggled the fingers on his other hand before the man’s crossed eyes. “You didn’t see anything,” he incanted.
They waited in the shadows off the entranceway for what seemed an eternity. The
gargoyles were still and silent sentries. The only sounds were the shuffle of Delens’s feet and the uneven breathing from the sylph.
At length, they heard the patter of feet on the tile floor. Trixie appeared at the end of the hallway. She had an arm around a young woman who looked as pale and sickly as the dying sylph. As they halted, the girl coughed violently into her hand.
“Come on, Millie. Not much farther, I promise, and then we can tuck you up into bed again.” Trixie urged the girl forward.
Elijah let out a sigh of relief on seeing his mate. A few more feet and they would be free of the house. The group turned to the corridor that led to the side entrance.
“I did wonder at your sudden devotion to this family, Beatrice. Your desire to keep your aunt company made me suspicious, so I left the men to douse the fire while I came to see what you were doing.” Francis Hamilton stood in the entranceway with his arms crossed. Above his head, the painted sky with its fluffy white clouds and the gilded sun that represented the Soarer’s creator, Ouranus, shone down on him and lit his silver-blond hair.
Trixie pushed Millie towards the gargoyles and Jasper drew the girl closer.
“You’re wrong, Uncle. I care deeply for Aunt Sylvie, which is why I am taking her outside to see the stars.” Trixie moved to stand in front of the group, shielding her aunt and the phoenix.
“I always knew you were a shame to this family, Beatrice, but really? Consorting with disgusting gnomes?” Hamilton spread his hands wide, and air swirled around them and tugged at their clothing.
Jasper handed the phoenix to a startled Millie and took Sylvie from Elijah. “You should be with your mate; I’ll look after this lot,” he said.
With a nod of thanks, Elijah went to Trixie’s side.
Shapes moved behind Hamilton as staff gathered, but Elijah didn’t sense any Soarers among them. At least their plan had partially worked, and the others must still be busy at the mill.
“Trixie, her aunt, Millie, and your phoenix will all be leaving with us.” Elijah flexed stone fists, ready to defend his mate. While Kruos seemed broken by the things he had been made to do and Elijah couldn’t enact his revenge on the old man, he had no such problems with venting his rage on Francis Hamilton.