‘Burleigh, stop. Calm yourself,’ I shout at the House as the ground shakes and distant crashes echo through the forest. But my voice is already thick with mortar and the trees around me are losing branches or toppling over entirely, even as more magic churns into me, bubbling up from the earth, carrying the wild, tainted power of the House. I tremble and freeze as the hiss of vines grows to a fever pitch.
Dark spots are already dancing at the edge of my vision when the first bramble tightens around my ankle.
21
The bite of thorns drives back the darkness swimming across my line of sight, and I cry out as the vine pulls tight, its fierce teeth sinking into my skin. Something, somewhere, catches Burleigh’s attention and the immense weight of the House’s focus lifts from me. Clarity floods my mind and I plunge a hand into my dressing-gown pocket, pulling out a gutting knife I haven’t yet shaken the habit of carrying. Sliding it from its leather sheath, I saw at the grasping vine with the knife’s serrated spine, rather than its curved cutting edge, and finally pull free.
Once I’m loose, I panic. The House only ever shifts its attention like that for one person, and I can’t bear to think of him taking in its cursed power.
‘Burleigh,’ I choke. ‘Don’t. Look at me. Look at me.’
But the House’s attention does not return. Knife still in hand, I limp towards the wildflower meadow at the forest’s edge. The woods are alive with destructive energy, though, and I watch in dismay as briars thicker than my arms begin to weave themselves through the trees bordering the meadow.
I grit my teeth, hobbling faster. If that hedge of thorns closes before I reach it, my little blade won’t be enough to cut through.
Just then, Wyn appears and stands in the gap between forest and field. I fix my eyes on him, and push myself to move faster.
‘Wyn, stop,’ I call, as he reaches out to the trees on either side of him.
‘Just hurry,’ he shouts, and I do my level best. Tremor after tremor throws me to the ground, but I push myself back up each time, closing the distance between us. Wyn holds out a hand and I reach for it.
The earth shakes angrily. Enormous brambles snake towards us. But Wyn pulls me forward with so much force that we tumble into the wildflower meadow together as only inches behind us, the forest is sealed off behind an impenetrable wall of thorns.
An eerie calm falls. Overhead, the sky clears and the moon comes out, bathing field and forest in silver light. But I can’t feel relief, or pain, though I’m sure I ought to. All I feel is abominable cold, spreading up my arms and legs, creeping across my chest towards my heart.
‘Violet, give me your hands,’ Wyn says distantly. I try to pull away, because I don’t want him to hurt himself, but I can’t focus on his voice or seem to move at all. Wyn’s face wavers and fades from my vision as everything turns to cold and stone.
I wake on my back, still in the wildflower meadow, and the stars overhead are only just beginning to fade as dawn lightens the eastern sky. There is pain pulsing through me, from where thorns cut at the skin on my hands, and from where brambles tore at my ankle.
But I can feel it, at least. There’s no cold left in me. No life-stealing mortar.
Wyn sits a short distance away, head buried in his arms. When I shift and the dry grass rustles, he looks up, and his face is so pale and drawn it breaks my heart. Yet I’m glad that there’s no blankness in him – that he’s fully present within himself. Whatever the mortar did to him, whatever piece of Wyn it stole, its work is already finished.
‘Are you all right?’ I ask as I sit up with a groan.
Wyn shakes his head, and when he speaks, his voice is fierce. ‘What were you thinking, Violet? You could have killed yourself.’
‘I was thinking that I could do this without you working House magic again,’ I tell him. ‘That you wouldn’t find out until it was done.’
‘I feel everything Burleigh feels now,’ Wyn says. ‘I woke up knowing you were pushing at its bond and that the House was about to lose control, with you in harm’s way. Blood and mortar, Vi, why put yourself at risk when you don’t have to? When I can end all of this? I should do it now, while I’ve got the nerve.’ He presses his hands to the earth, as if he’s about to invite Burleigh’s magic to steal yet more of him from me.
‘Stop,’ I gasp, the words all terror and sharp edges. ‘Wyn, don’t even say such things. Promise me, right here and right now, that you won’t give yourself over to the House. That you’ll hold out to the bitter end, and give me a chance to try and save you. Just a chance, that’s all I’m asking for.’
He looks at me wearily. ‘You’ve asked for a lot of promises since coming home.’
‘And you’ve made a lot of needlessly self-sacrificing decisions since I came back; what do you expect me to do?’ I answer.
Wyn lowers himself down a little, leaning back on his elbows. ‘To let me finish the job I’m meant for. Do you know what I am, Vi? I’m a Caretaker. That’s what your father intended for me to be. But where you look after the House, I look after you. And so you’re meant to come first. Before Burleigh. Before the countryside. Before my own life.’
A creeping chill runs down my spine and I shudder. ‘No one ever asked me if I want that.’
Wyn shrugs. ‘No one ever asked any of us if we want to be in this mess. Not you, not me, not your father, not this ruin of a House – sorry, Burleigh,’ he adds as the ground rumbles beneath us. ‘Not even your mother. We’re just . . . in it. And we’ve got to make the best of the hands we’ve been dealt.’
‘Wyn, I’m asking you,’ I say. ‘Do you want this?’
He stares off at the dark and twisted back woods and stays silent.
‘Look at me,’ I press, edging a bit closer. ‘Answer the question.’
At last Wyn turns his face towards me, and the restrained fear I’ve seen glimpses of in his eyes is burning there like a torch. ‘I don’t want to die, Violet,’ he confesses, his voice low and raw. ‘I’m a coward at heart. Your father – the thing is, I could have saved him, couldn’t I? If I’d just finished the binding with Burleigh and let the House overtake me, the arrest would’ve ended. George could have walked out of here alive. In a way, I’m as guilty of his death as the king.’
I shake my head. ‘Is that what you think? I would never blame you for what happened to my father. You were a child when all this began – we both were. Listen to me now: none of this is your fault. And you’re not going to die. I’m going to save you.’
The sound of Wyn’s laugh is short and sharp on the night air. He gestures to the tortured ruins of the back woods. ‘Like you’re saving Burleigh?’
The words cut deep, but I know it’s his fear speaking, and so I let it go. Instead I meet Wyn’s eyes and hold his gaze, refusing to look away.
‘This didn’t happen because I’m trying to save Burleigh,’ I tell him. ‘This happened because I’m trying to save you. I asked the House to show me where the deed is. Asked it directly.’
A great creaking of timber rises up from the back woods as I own what I’ve done to Wyn. The enormous brambles twining through the trees writhe and twist like wicked black snakes.
‘I found it,’ I blurt out. ‘Wyn, I found what I’ve been looking for. Burleigh showed me. I know now where the— where it is. You don’t have to end anything. I can do this. I can unbind the House, and free you both from each other, and from the king.’
For the first time since seeing Burleigh’s vision of the Cornish coast, elation swells within me. I found the deed. Or I’ve as good as found it. Everything is going to be all right.
But Wyn looks unconvinced. In fact, there’s more anguish in the lines of his face than ever. ‘It’s not dying I’m most afraid of,’ he says. ‘I don’t want that, but it isn’t what I can’t get out of my head. The House is bound to kill you if you do what you’re set on, Violet. And what if I have a chance to save you by giving myself up, and in the moment, I haven’t got the courage to do it? I never d
id, with George.’
Wyn runs a hand across his face. ‘Stay here. Don’t go after the deed and put yourself in harm’s way. Let things run their course. Let Burleigh get to the point where it can’t afford to take my will into account any longer – where it has to make the decision for me, without any danger to you.’
My desire to see Wyn safe and well and in a place where he can put all this behind him is so strong it sets a consuming ache in my chest and throat. ‘You know I can’t do that,’ I say, taking care to keep my words soft and reassuring.
But Wyn still shuts his eyes as if he’s been struck, and his jaw tightens.
‘I’m not going to fail, and I’m not going to die,’ I promise. ‘You’re the one who said that you think I can do anything I set my mind to. Well, I’ve never wanted something more than I want this – not just because it’s for Burleigh, but because I hope unbinding the House will unbind you too. I need you to have enough faith in me to let me try, and to swear that you won’t do anything rash until I’ve had my chance.’
As certain as I sound, I’m desperately afraid. But I refuse to let it show.
Wyn looks at me for a long time. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I look back, because I want to memorize his face in this moment.
‘Very well,’ he says at last, his voice toneless. ‘I promise I will not finish giving myself to Burleigh unless you’re in mortal danger, or the House forces it. Can you live with that?’
‘I’ll have to,’ I say. I inch closer to him until he puts his arm around me and I rest my head on his shoulder. As I do, I realize the only thing that makes me feel safe any more is being close to Wyn.
I cannot and will not lose him again.
‘Do you think we’ll ever just be ordinary?’ I ask after a long silence passes between us. We sit together, staring sadly at the ruins of the back woods. ‘Just Violet and Wyn, a girl and a boy who can sort out who they are, both apart and together?’
‘I don’t know, Vi,’ Wyn says. He kisses the top of my head and I sigh. ‘I really don’t know.’
22
In the pale light of early morning, I break the news that I’ve found the deed’s location to my co-conspirators. Esperanza descends upon the House in full state to pack me up for the journey to Cornwall, while Alfred goes off to see about post-horses and stopping places and the like. Frey grants me a leave of absence. Mira kneads bread fiercely, looking wan and disapproving. Jed’s taken a rare morning at home, and he sits whittling in silence, though he’s wistful where Mira is fierce.
Wyn’s nowhere to be found. I’ve given up trying to understand him, but I can’t blame him for disappearing – our last parting weighs heavy on me. It tore me in two, that last goodbye when we were children and found ourselves separated for such a long time. I try to assure myself that I’ll be back soon, and we’ll be together again. It wears on me, though, thinking of leaving him behind. I worry that he lied and that while I’m gone, he may find the strength to give himself to Burleigh entirely. That he may be doing it right now. I want him by my side, to watch over as carefully as he’s watched over me. I steal time away from the others to look for him, but he’s nowhere in the House, and his shepherd’s hut is empty, the woods around it malicious and brooding.
During a moment of solitude, when I’m left in my bedroom with a half-packed bag, I glare at the walls around me. ‘So help me, Burleigh,’ I mutter, ‘if you let Wyn do anything foolish, I will set a match to you myself.’
A cloud of old smoke billows out from the fireplace, and the walls groan sadly.
In a matter of hours, everything’s ready. A dreary rain falls out of doors as if to mirror the way I feel, and again I’m reminded, with a heart-stopping pang, of the last time I left Burleigh behind.
This time, it won’t be for seven years. It’ll barely be seven days. Yet there’s an abominable lump in my throat as I hug Jed and Mira tightly on the doorstep.
‘Look after yourself in Cornwall,’ Jed says, his voice a bass rumble. ‘We want our girl home safe when all this is over.’
Mira presses a paper bag full of ginger biscuits into my hands. ‘For the road.’
‘I love you both,’ I say, kissing her worn cheek. ‘And I’ll be back before you know it.’ The words sound far more cheerful than I feel. ‘You’ll take care of Wyn for me, won’t you? Find him once I’m past the gate and don’t let him out of your sight. Tell him I said goodbye, and that I won’t be gone any longer than I have to.’ I can’t keep a pleading note from creeping into my voice.
They assure me they will, and then there’s nothing for it. I hurry down to the waiting carriage, ducking my head against the rain.
‘You’re so pale,’ Espie fusses as I climb inside. ‘It’s a good thing we’re going on a trip to the seaside.’
‘It’s not a holiday,’ Alfred reminds her, and she rolls her eyes at him.
‘Can’t it be both?’
But I ignore their bickering, pressing a hand to the carriage window instead as white flowers bloom among the ivy that covers Burleigh from ground to roof line. It does nothing to dampen my sorrow over Wyn’s refusal to appear, knowing that at least Burleigh can bear to say goodbye.
We jolt down the drive towards the lane. Rain drums against the carriage roof and I stare forlornly out the foggy window until we’re nearly at the bramble gate. But just shy of the gap, I let out a gasp and throw the carriage door open, tumbling out while it’s still in motion.
I can hear Espie’s startled shriek, but I scramble upright and there’s Wyn, waiting near the wall, soaked to his skin. Rain plasters his hair to his forehead. He stands in that familiar way, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets, and the relief I feel at the sight of him is a sharp and burning thing.
‘Where were you?’ I ask. In answer, Wyn steps forward and puts his arms around me and I can hardly think for missing him, though we’re still together. It was bad enough, being apart when I went to the fens. But since I returned, Wyn’s quiet presence has become essential to me.
‘I don’t want to leave you,’ I tell him. ‘But I have to go.’
‘I want you to leave,’ he says. ‘And I’d be lying if I said I don’t still wish you wouldn’t come back.’
His words should sting. I know what he means by them, though.
‘It’s only for a little while,’ I promise, putting a hand to the side of his face. ‘I’ll be back, and everything will be fine, once Burleigh’s free. I’m a Caretaker, aren’t I? Who’s to say I can’t take care of you both?’
Wyn gives me the ghost of a smile, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. This feels all wrong. It feels like goodbye for ever, not just for a week, but if I stay much longer I won’t have the heart to go.
Choking back a sob, I pull away from Wyn and walk the few steps to the carriage. Esperanza helps me up with a shake of her head.
‘All sorted?’ Alfred asks.
‘For now,’ I say bleakly. ‘Drive on.’
We jolt our way through the gate, and it’s as if I’ve left half of myself behind. I huddle in a corner of the carriage, a few feet between Esperanza and me, and I can’t understand why this feels so like dying. It should feel like victory, like moving towards hope, and yet here I sit, with my heart in tatters.
It’s not till we’ve left Burleigh Halt and are rattling along the southern road that Esperanza speaks, her voice uncharacteristically soft.
‘Violet?’ she says. ‘I know it’s hard to be parted. But you were right – it’s not going to be for long. You don’t have to fret on Wyn’s account.’
‘My father bound Wyn to the House,’ I tell her. ‘To die on its behalf, if I can’t manage to save it. Papa took the two things I care for most in this world and put their survival at odds with one another. And I’m afraid – I’m afraid Wyn may give himself over to Burleigh while I’m gone, to keep me from becoming another Marian Ingilby, and Burleigh from becoming another Sixth House. He’s worried the House may kill me, and I’m terrified he’ll let it kill him,
to stop that from happening.’
‘Oh, Vi,’ Espie says, and there’s a world of pity in her eyes.
‘But what can I do?’ I ask, my voice beginning to break. ‘If I stay, he’ll be dead within a fortnight, when the king comes to burn Burleigh and the House . . . inhabits him. The only chance for him, not just Burleigh, is for me to go.’
‘I’m so sorry, darling,’ Esperanza murmurs as I swallow back tears and panic. ‘So sorry.’
Alfred offers no empty words of comfort. He sits on the bench across from us and his face, as he looks at the rainy countryside, has a haunted look. After a while, Espie drops off to sleep, and we travel on in silence.
23
Even miles and miles away from Burleigh House, in Cornwall, the weather is bleak. It rains all throughout our journey, and rains as we arrive at St Ives in late afternoon. I pay the weather no mind, and walk down to the abandoned beach below the town. A stiff breeze whips the waves into whitecaps. I fill my lungs with the good clean smell of brine, as if it could drive the last traces of mortar from my bones, the last vestiges of fear and doubt from my veins.
And it startles me to find that after years on the fens, standing on the shore and hearing the cry of the mournful gulls feels as much like coming home as going back to Burleigh did.
‘Violet!’ Esperanza calls, coming down the beach wrapped in an enormous and cumbersome oilskin cloak. ‘Come inside, it’s nearly nightfall. What are you doing out here in the rain?’
I take her by the arm and point to the vast, restless ocean. ‘Isn’t it beautiful? When I look at it, everything seems simpler. No matter what happens, that will still be there. The waves will still come and go. The tides will still rise and fall.’
‘Yes, it’s lovely, but won’t you come inside?’ Esperanza asks again. ‘You ought to have something to eat and turn in early, if we’re to track down the deed tomorrow.’
‘Not just yet,’ I tell her. The sky is clearing on the western horizon, and the rain is beginning to let up. ‘I want to stay out and count the stars.’
A Treason of Thorns Page 19