A Skinful of Shadows

by Frances Hardinge

  At last the group cleared the tip of the camp’s crescent, and now there was only a dark expanse of uneven ground between them and the distant walls. Makepeace could make out the dark, arched outline of the small sally door at the top of its flight of steps.

  ‘Run,’ said White Crowe, ‘and stop for nothing.’

  As they sprinted for the door, there were a few cries from the direction of the camp. A single optimistic shot rang out, but the bullet flew wild into the darkness. Only when Makepeace reached the portcullis with the others did she dare to glance back. A few dark figures were running from the direction of the tents, but faltered as rocks were hurled at them from the tower above.

  The portcullis was hastily hauled up, and when it was half raised, Makepeace and the others quickly ducked beneath it, into the short, unlit tunnel beyond. The portcullis dropped behind them with a clang, and shortly after, the door at the far end of the tunnel opened, to reveal Young Crowe with a lantern.

  ‘Welcome back, my lord,’ he said. ‘Your arrival with Lady Maud is not a moment too soon.’

  ‘His lordship is sinking like a stone,’ said Young Crowe, as he hustled the new arrivals towards the chapel. ‘He will not last the night – I doubt he will see out the hour.’

  Once again Makepeace was being hurried to Lord Fellmotte’s side, so that ghosts could be crammed into her shell.

  I do not know what will happen, Makepeace silently told her invisible companions. I do not know if James has a plan. The Crowes may tie us down and flood us with Fellmotte ghosts. We might have to fight.

  Well, at least our practice fighting each other will not have gone to waste, said Dr Quick.

  If we leave our enemies sicker than we found them, Livewell said laconically, then today is a good day.

  Bear made no sound, but Makepeace could feel him in her head, and it strengthened her.

  Morgan was also silent. It occurred to Makepeace that such a battle would give the spymistress the chance to switch sides again, and rejoin her old coterie. If it happens, it happens, she told herself. Until then, I trust her.

  En route, Young Crowe also gave a rapid report on the progress of the siege.

  The army had been outside for about a week. The siege force had only three big guns – two mortars that flung larger stones and flaming grenadoes, and a demi-culverin with better range. The Old Tower had taken a few knocks, and some of the turrets now had a broken-toothed look. So far, however, Grizehayes’s thick walls had shrugged off the worst of the damage.

  ‘They have asked for our surrender repeatedly, of course,’ said Young Crowe. ‘The traditional offer – all the women, children and civilians allowed to leave, and then terms of surrender to be negotiated. Of course, Lady April has said no each time.’

  Lady April was at Grizehayes. This was bad news. Makepeace had been hoping that no other Elders were in the great house.

  ‘How is Lady April now?’ James asked carefully. The same thought had clearly occurred to him.

  ‘Oh, still recovering from her injuries.’ Young Crowe gave Makepeace a brief, cold look. ‘She remains in her sickbed except when she is needed.’

  ‘And the rest of the family?’ asked James.

  ‘Sir Marmaduke is hoping to bring troops here to break the siege – though it’s God’s own guess whether they arrive before the enemy’s reinforcements,’ said Young Crowe. ‘The Bishop is in the north, winning hearts and minds to the cause. Sir Alan is still in London, fighting in the courts against the sequestration.’ Makepeace had heard of these powerful members of the Fellmotte family before. Thankfully, it sounded like they were busy elsewhere.

  Makepeace listened to Young Crowe’s account with slight relief. If Lady April was still keeping to her quarters and the other Elders were away, perhaps James might yet avoid coming face to face with someone who could see that he was not possessed.

  ‘Our cellars are well stocked with gunpowder and two months’ supply of food, and we have all the water we need from our well.’ Young Crowe was thinner than usual and a bit less dapper. ‘The towers are manned with the local trained band, and some of the best shots amongst our fowlers and game keepers. Whenever the rebels get too close to the walls, we drop rocks and hot oil on them.

  ‘The rebels have set sappers to dig a trench running from their camp towards the west wall. They are probably hoping to set mines at the base, but they won’t reach it before Sir Marmaduke’s forces arrive to relieve us. Grizehayes has been besieged before. These walls never fall. You might as well hurl cherries at a mountain.’

  Makepeace could feel the weight of the ancient house crushing in on her again, pressing her thoughts and will like flowers. Had she really imagined that this place might lose its power over her?

  The door of the chapel swung open. In the great chair, as if he had not moved since her departure, Lord Fellmotte was waiting for Maud.

  Makepeace could not help noticing that the chair next to that of Lord Fellmotte now had metal shackles attached to confine the sitter’s wrists and ankles. Clearly the household were no longer willing to put their trust in mere rope and wood.

  ‘Lady April asked to be notified as soon as we returned,’ declared White Crowe, then gave a hasty bow and strode away. James and Makepeace exchanged a panicky look, but there was no good excuse to stop him.

  Old Crowe was in the chapel, fussing over Lord Fellmotte, who looked greyer and thinner than ever. Lord Fellmotte’s feet were bare, and rested on a pair of dead pigeons that lay in a pool of their own fresh blood. It was an old and desperate remedy, used when death was thought imminent, as a last-ditch attempt to draw out sickness.

  The steward glanced up as they entered, and looked almost tearfully relieved to see both Makepeace and James.

  ‘My lord! Oh, my lord, you have her! I shall fetch the drug straight away!’

  ‘No!’ snapped James, in a harsh, Elder-like voice. The chapel echoed the word, adding its own gilded echoes. ‘The drug will not be needed. Fasten the girl into the chair.’

  ‘But . . .’ The steward faltered, and exchanged a glance with his son. ‘The girl has a monster inside her! Last time she—’

  ‘Did you hear me?’ James asked, his tone coldly menacing.

  There was a flurry of obedience. Makepeace was dragged over to the chair, and shoved down into it. The cold of the shackles as they fastened around her ankles and wrists gave her a chill of panic, but she fought it down.

  ‘Now leave!’ commanded James, snatching the key from Young Crowe’s hand. ‘All of you!’

  The two Crowes stared at him with astonishment and dismay. Makepeace thought she saw a glimmer of suspicion in Young Crowe’s eyes.

  ‘Now!’ bellowed James.

  Still looking shocked and doubtful, the Crowes left the room, taking the soldiers with them. James quickly barred the chapel door, then ran over and unlocked Makepeace’s shackles, his hands shaking with haste.

  ‘The Crowes know something is wrong,’ he said under his breath. ‘They couldn’t say no to an Elder, but when Lady April gets here they’ll flock to her instead. That door will hold them out for a while, though.’

  ‘James,’ whispered Makepeace as the shackles loosened. ‘We can’t stay in here! Lord Fellmotte might die at any moment!’

  She saw realization dawn across her brother’s face. If the lord died, seven ancient, desperate ghosts would be released . . . and would sense the two tempting vessels trapped in a room with them. Makepeace had ghostly friends to defend her, and could at least try to repel boarders. Her brother, however, did not.

  James muttered a word unfit for chapel.

  ‘What in scarlet Hell do we do?’

  CHAPTER 38

  The siblings stared at the sick man’s slack face and seething, antagonistic gaze.

  ‘We need to get out of here,’ Makepeace said.

  The stained-glass windows were too small. As she looked around frantically, inspiration struck.

  ‘James, there is another way out!’ M
akepeace pointed to the raised gallery at the back of the chapel. ‘There’s a door at the back of it, and a corridor leading to the family’s chambers! Can you climb there, then lower something so you can help me up?’ She remembered him nimbly scaling the tower to visit her on their first meeting.

  ‘I can’t leave you down here with him!’ James pointed to the dying lord.

  ‘If you get possessed again,’ Makepeace said sharply, ‘you will turn on me. You need to keep away from him for my safety.’

  ‘You’re going to win every argument from now on by talking about “that time you were possessed”, aren’t you?’ James muttered, as he clambered on to a sarcophagus, then placed his foot cautiously on a marble head protruding from the wall. It promptly broke away under his weight, and fell to the floor with a loud smash.

  There were sounds of confused voices outside the main chapel door. Evidently Inheritance did not usually involve property damage. Makepeace heard Old Crowe shout a question. This was followed by loud, insistent knocking.

  James swore, still hanging off the wall.

  Makepeace’s gaze crept back to the slumped shape in the great chair. It still hurt her to see the kindly features of Sir Thomas looking so pale and ill.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sir Thomas,’ she whispered, even though she knew he was just a shell. ‘I liked you. I’m sorry you never had a proper deathbed. I’m sorry to leave you like this. And I know you died for the sake of the family . . . but I have to stop them. Forever.’

  Something had changed in his face, she realized. A light had gone out of it. She had already started backing away when the first ghost seeped out of the corner of his mouth like smoke.

  ‘James!’ she shouted. ‘They’re coming!’

  Her brother was just scrambling over the rail into the gallery. He tugged down a hanging that decorated the back wall, knotted one end to the rail, and tossed the loose end down to dangle from the gallery.

  ‘Climb this!’

  Makepeace ran over and grasped the cloth, and started to climb, using the few treacherous footholds in the wall. Behind her, the air was thickening with whispers.

  She was precariously perched on a slender ledge when something shadowy swooped towards her head. She felt it tickle, moth-like, in her ear as it tried to tunnel its way in. Her left foot slipped off, and only her grip on the cloth rope stopped her falling.

  Let me do the climbing! hissed Livewell urgently.

  He was right. Makepeace could not fight and climb at once. She gave him her hands and feet, and braced for the fight.

  She did not know who he was, the Elder-ghost clawing his way into her mind. As their minds bruised each other, she glimpsed memories – a thousand arrows darkening the sky like a thundercloud, ships on fire, bishops kneeling, a library the size of a cathedral. His certainty hit her like a battering ram, and for a moment it shook her will.

  What was she doing, refusing to accept her destiny? How could she want so many centuries of memories to be lost? It was like sawing down a millennia-old tree.

  But it was a tree with roots that strangled. She was killing the past in self-defence.

  I am sorry, Makepeace told the Elder-ghost. Wherever your soul goes next, I hope you find mercy. But I cannot show you any.

  Makepeace lashed out with her mind at the attacking ghost, and she could feel the doctor add his will to hers. Bear’s wrath was a furnace. But this ghost was no desperate wisp. It was powerful and cunning, and she could feel it sliding its claws into the weak parts of her defences.

  Then Morgan chose her side. She suddenly surged from hiding, and appeared at the other Elder’s side, mingling her strength with his. Makepeace sensed the Elder’s recognition and exultatation – shortly followed by horror as the spymistress tore him in two.

  That, remarked Morgan, as his screaming fragments melted away, is a trick that will only work once.

  Makepeace reached the rail, and James pulled her on to the gallery. They hastily opened the door, and sprinted down the corridor. Behind them, the air quivered with a thin, musical sibilance as more spirits rose out of Lord Fellmotte and set off in pursuit. The siblings fled down corridor after darkened corridor, then dived into the Map Room to catch their breath.

  ‘We need to think!’ James pressed his knuckles against his temples and let out a breath. ‘We can’t get out of Grizehayes. Everything’s guarded and locked. But if we keep running long enough, the loose ghosts will melt away. Then, even if we do get captured, at least we can’t be possessed!’

  ‘We can still be killed!’ Makepeace pointed out. ‘We let Lord Fellmotte’s ghosts bleed into mist! Do you think the family will ever forgive that?’

  ‘We’re valuable spares, and you’re the only person who knows where their charter is hidden, remember?’ countered James. ‘At least we have a chance of bargaining! They need allies right now, and so do we. That army out there is a bigger threat to all of us. Like it or not . . . we’re all on the same side.’

  ‘No, James!’ hissed Makepeace with feeling. ‘We’re not!’

  ‘Then what’s your plan?’

  Makepeace steeled herself.

  ‘We do what the enemy sappers wanted to do,’ she said. ‘We blow a hole in the outer wall. We force Grizehayes to surrender.’

  For several seconds, James stared at her in disbelief and horror.

  ‘No!’ he hissed at last. ‘That’s treason! That’s not just betraying the Fellmottes, that’s betraying the King!’

  ‘I don’t care!’ Makepeace spat back. ‘I only care about the people who live in this county!’

  She drew a ragged breath, and tried to force her thoughts into words.

  ‘Maybe Sir Marmaduke will turn up and break the siege,’ she said. ‘But Parliament needs this county. They’ll have to send another, bigger army.’

  ‘So what if they do?’ exclaimed James. ‘You’ve seen how strong our walls are!’ There was an unmistakable note of pride, and Makepeace noticed the ‘our’.

  ‘Then there’s another siege,’ she answered. ‘A long one. Food runs short in Grizehayes. People start eating dogs, rats and horses. The army outside takes food from all the villages around because otherwise they’ll starve. Winter comes and everybody goes hungry. The trees are cut down and there are fights over firewood. Then people start dying of camp fever.

  ‘Right now the enemy’s willing to let Grizehayes surrender, which means everybody here would get out alive. What happens to all the women and children and old people if we don’t surrender, and the walls fall later anyway?’

  ‘Then . . . it could get very ugly,’ James admitted, scowling. He did not go into details.

  ‘The Fellmottes won’t surrender,’ said Makepeace. ‘And they don’t even care about the King! They’d sacrifice everybody here to keep Grizehayes. Because Grizehayes is their heart, James! I want to strike at their heart.’

  The siblings were relieved to find the nearest stairway unguarded, and descended as quickly and stealthily as they could. All was quiet in the darkened passageways around the kitchens. In the fuel store, next to the stacks of logs, they found a number of promising barrels.

  ‘Are you sure you can make this explode?’ James whispered, as he started carefully rolling a barrel out of the room.

  I watched the sappers preparing them, Livewell told Makepeace. There’s no great trick to it. The hard part was always getting close enough to the wall without being shot by the enemy.

  Makepeace nodded to herself.

  ‘That won’t be a problem,’ she told James.

  ‘Those little pauses,’ said James, ‘when you listen to voices I can’t hear, are not getting any less disturbing.’

  They manoeuvred the barrel down into the wine cellar, laying it against the foundations of the western wall.

  Following Livewell’s advice, Makepeace pulled the cork out of the side of the barrel, and inserted a short length of match cord.

  ‘We need to pile things on top of it,’ she said, relaying his words. ‘
Earth, rocks or anything heavy.’ They clustered other full barrels around it, then crept to the kitchen to find other pileables.

  It was strange to be back in the kitchen again, and to see everything that had filled her days and worn her hands rough. The dogs flocked to Makepeace as if she had never been absent. Bear was wary, feeling that the kitchen had started to smell different in his absence, and wanted to rub his shoulder against the table until it was his again.

  Not now, Bear.

  James and Makepeace carried down heavy pans, sacks of grain and pailfuls of salt from the meat safe. All of these were piled on top of the little barrel, until it was almost buried, but for the jutting match cord.

  Her hand shaking, Makepeace lit the end of the fuse, so that it glowed red.

  Grizehayes must fall. It was Makepeace’s only way of striking at the Fellmottes’ terrible certainty. Grizehayes was their arrogance made stone. It was proof of their centuries. It told them they were eternal.

  ‘Now let’s get out of here!’ whispered James. The pair of them hurried up the cellar stairs, then came to a halt as they noticed half a dozen figures standing at the top.

  White Crowe and Young Crowe had their swords drawn. Around them stood three of the Grizehayes manservants, now armed. At the back, Lady April’s metallic white face gleamed like a poisonous moon.

  How did they find us? wondered Makepeace. Too late she remembered Bear’s unease. The kitchen, and particularly the table, had smelt different – and slightly frightened.

  Of course. With Makepeace gone, Grizehayes had recruited a new kitchen boy or girl to keep an eye on the fire at night. So some child had lain terrified as intruders lumbered around the kitchen talking of gunpowder, and had taken the first chance to slip away and report . . .

  Sorry, Bear. I forgot to listen to you.

  James did not even hesitate. He immediately straightened, raising his chin imperiously high.

  ‘What is this foolery?’ he demanded, in an impressively irritable impression of his voice as an Elder.