Deelind and The Icefire

by Lance Dempster

  DEELIND

  AND THE ICEFIRE

  First published 2019

  Copyright © Lance Dempster 2019

  The right of Lance Dempster to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the copyright holder.

  Published under licence by Brown Dog Books and

  The Self-Publishing Partnership, 7 Green Park Station, Bath BA1 1JB

  www.selfpublishingpartnership.co.uk

  ISBN printed book: 978-1-83952-089-1

  ISBN e-book: 978-1-83952-090-7

  Cover design by Jane Harley, Boutique Books

  Internal design by Andrew Easton

  Printed and bound in the UK

  This book is printed on FSC certified paper

  DEELIND

  AND THE ICEFIRE

  L. DEMPSTER

  BOOK 1 OF THE THUNDER OF DRAGONS SERIES

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1: Brakenhill Tor

  Chapter 2: The Molers

  Chapter 3: The Melding

  Chapter 4: The Cottage Attack

  Chapter 5: Oakman

  Chapter 6: The Sickroom

  Chapter 7: The Funeral

  Chapter 8: Brakenhill Valley

  Chapter 9: The Upper House

  Chapter 10: The Learning Tree

  Chapter 11: Reunited

  Chapter 12: Walk of Fire

  Chapter 13: The Prophecy

  Chapter 14: Brakenhill Adventures

  Chapter 15: IceFire

  Chapter 16: Blackthorn

  Chapter 17: The Escape

  Chapter 18: The Grimplins

  Chapter 19: Dragon Valley

  Chapter 20: The Cells

  CHAPTER 1

  BRAKENHILL TOR

  Deelind ran down the hill, her bare feet digging into the dew-dampened grass as her dress wrapped around her legs, almost tripping her up. Her long hair flew behind her and a fresh morning breeze blew in her face. Flying free and happy she spread her arms out like an aeroplane and glided down the hillside. The breeze turned into a strong wind almost blowing her dress over her head, making her squeal in surprise. A shadow fell over her. The wind became warm and the sunlight turned a red-orange colour. At the bottom of the hill she saw a young woman running towards her. Terror etched the woman’s face as she screamed in anguish, ‘No, no! Look out!’ Deelind turned, looked up and froze. A huge wing came down towards her. She shrank into herself just as a blanket of soft brown feathers covered her. Intense, burning heat surrounded her, constricting her breathing and bringing tears to her eyes. The earth beneath her crumbled away and then all was dark.

  ‘Deelind! Deelind, you are going to be late!’ called her gran. Jerking awake, she groaned groggily at the familiar feeling of sweat-drenched material sticking to her skin. Rolling out of bed, she staggered to the bathroom for a shower. Dressing quickly in jeans, T-shirt and running shoes, she sighed at the thought of another long day working in the manor house’s hot kitchen while her schoolmates enjoyed their Saturday off. She scooped up her sweaty PJs and left the room, taking the stairs two at a time. On entering the cottage’s cosy kitchen, she saw her gran sitting at the kitchen table sipping her tea. One hand held open a worn, leather-bound book. A large constellation map was inked onto one yellowed page while the other page was filled with flowing, handwritten notes.

  Gran looked up, spotting the PJs while giving Deelind a warm smile. ‘Bad dream again?’ Concern edged her voice.

  ‘Yes. The same one as always,’ she said, tossing her PJs into the washing machine. Combing her fingers through her wet hair, she looked out of the window at the kitchen garden. The bluebells were just beginning to open. Soon there would be a carpet of them, their intensely shaded, bell-shaped heads bobbing in the breeze with their scent filling the air. A soft mist hung over the small stream running behind the garden and as her eye caught a glint of light sparkling off the water, a sense of peace flowed over her. She loved the two-bedroom cottage they lived in. She didn’t have much time to herself, but when she did, she loved to go into the backyard and watch the birds roosting at the manor house on top of Brakenhill Tor. They looked like falcons, but they were larger than expected and she couldn’t pin them down in her gran’s bird book. Sometimes the birds stared directly at her and goose bumps would pop up all over her body.

  ‘The stars are in a strange alignment today,’ said Gran, sounding puzzled as she flicked through the pages of the book. ‘Both good and bad.’

  Not taking much notice because Gran was always practising her starcraft, Deelind startled when she felt Gran’s arms encircle her waist. Turning into the embrace, Deelind hugged her back. Gran had long, thick and shiny grey hair which she wore in a variety of styles. Today she had three plaits running through the length of it, and the style went well with the flowing blue dress she was wearing. Deelind rested her head against her gran’s shoulder.

  ‘Go carefully,’ Gran cautioned with a final squeeze, as Deelind stepped back. Nodding her head in understanding, Deelind headed to the front door and grabbed her quilted coat off the coat hook on the way out. Her gran was her world. She could not remember her mother who had died in a car accident just after she turned four, and she had never known her father who had left before she was born.

  * * *

  Deelind stepped out of the front door onto the country lane. The mist had thickened and pressed against her, sending tendrils of damp to curl over the edges of her collar. With a shiver she pulled her soft, faux-fur collar closer around her neck and walked briskly down the narrow road that led towards the manor house. Between the mist and familiarity of the lane she had walked all her life, she was lost in her thoughts when she felt something give way and squelch under her foot. Lifting her foot up, she saw she had stepped on a dead blackbird. ‘Ew, ew, ew, gross!’ Hopping on one foot and holding her nose, she hobbled to the grass on the side of the lane and hurriedly wiped the bottom of her shoe until it was as clean as she could get it. Uneasy, she eyed the bird. Gran had a thing about blackbirds, and she would have seen this as a bad omen.

  The cottage put her halfway between her school in Buttercup and the Brakenhill manor estate, which was a few miles outside the town. She worked in the manor house kitchen after school, on Saturdays and during her school holidays. She worked alongside Geoff, the head chef, his partner Miss Tibi Walker and several other kitchen helpers. Unlike the kitchen helpers who lived in Buttercup town, Geoff and Miss Tibi lived at the manor house. Miss Tibi helped Geoff in the kitchen, but she was also the head housekeeper. The housekeeping staff largely kept to themselves. She had been told they lived in staff accommodation somewhere behind the Tor. She had been coming to the manor house for as long as she could remember, and with no children of their own, Geoff and Miss Tibi had taken her under their wing. It had been natural to join in with their kitchen and household activities, taking on more as she got older.

  In many ways, Geoff and Miss Tibi were her adoptive parents and she loved them dearly. The couple were complete opposites in personality and in physical appearance and they balanced each other perfectly. Geoff was six feet tall with a large, soft build. He kept his hair shaved close to his skull and with nothing to distract the eye, his rich, deep grey eyes stood out. Miss Tibi was short at five foot one, and thin. She had soft, ash-blonde hair brushing her shoulders, and blue eyes. Where Geoff was steady and calm, Miss Tibi was a whirlwind of activity and life. Miss Tibi fussed around her, org
anising her tasks, mending her school uniform, checking her homework, arranging her meals, and insisting she take food home every evening for her gran. Miss Tibi could be overwhelming and, on those days when Deelind was sure she had the ‘deer in the headlights’ look, Geoff always helped her out. In his quiet way, he would send her a wink and distract Miss Tibi.

  Despite the cold mist, by the time she reached the Brakenhill gates she felt hot in her warm coat. Shrugging out of her coat, she saw that although the early morning sun was gently illuminating the top of the Tor, it had not risen high enough yet and the gates were still in the shade. The Tor was a large, steep, grass-covered hill and the only one for miles around. She had heard the kitchen staff say that Lady Lee owned the Tor and all the land around it. Deelind looked around. Where was Grimbell? He had waited for her outside the gates every day for as long as she could remember. The chilly morning breeze made her warm skin pebble as she peered through the gates, her gaze taking in the impressive moat which was as wide as two bus lengths. It ran the full perimeter of the estate, or so she had been told, for she had never followed it herself.

  Not sure what to do, she walked to the dragon-shaped gate pillar that was connected to a large stone wall running alongside the moat. For the first time, she noticed a faded insignia on its chest. She could just make out the shape of a shield with a tree in the centre of it. She felt a pulling sensation which became stronger the more she looked at it. The hairs on her arms stood up. She yanked herself back and shook her head to release the weird feeling. Now that was odd.

  Pushing the experience aside for later thought, she peered at the dragon’s face. Each morning when she arrived at the gate Grimbell would slip his hand into the dragon’s mouth, holding a large, old metal key. Moments later, the gates would open and the drawbridge would slide out horizontally, bridging the moat and linking the outside world to Brakenhill Estate. Perhaps she could feel in the mouth for something that would help? It looked rather dark and menacing. Nervously she stretched her hand out towards the mouth, but before she reached it, the dragon bellowed, ‘Who seeks entry?’ Jumping back, she stared at the stone dragon. Impossible! Stone can’t talk and the dragon’s mouth hadn’t moved, had it?

  ‘Deelind! Wait! I’m coming,’ panted a tall man, waving frantically while running up the estate’s cobbled driveway. Deelind’s brow snapped together as she raised her hand in greeting. Why was Geoff meeting her today? As Geoff reached the edge of the moat, the drawbridge began to move across towards the gates. He stepped on it and let it carry him the rest of the way. Still thinking about the dragon, she waited and watched. She loved how the drawbridge seemed to hover above the water and never got tired of watching it slide open and close. When it touched the moat edge with a gentle thud, the gates opened just wide enough for her. She slipped through and stood on the drawbridge next to Geoff, who was still breathing heavily after his run. The gates closed and the drawbridge began to retract, carrying them across the moat.

  Entering through the gates offered the first unimpeded view of the manor house which stood near the base of the Tor. It always took her breath away. The house was majestic, and it amazed her how the back-end of the ground floor extended past the first floor into the Tor. The roof of the extended ground floor became a large, terraced area which was partially cut into the Tor. To the right of the house was the extensive vegetable garden which supplied most of the produce for the kitchens. The land to the left of the house flowed into open fields.

  ‘Morning, Deelind,’ said Geoff with a gentle smile and affection in his eyes as he bent to give her a quick hug.

  ‘Morning,’ she said, squeezing him back. She looked up at him, her eyes tight with concern. ‘Where is Grimbell? Is everything alright?’

  ‘He is running an errand for Lady Lee,’ he said and changed the subject to other things, clearly not wanting to discuss Grimbell any further.

  When the conversation lulled, she said, ‘The stone dragon spoke to me.’ Startled, Geoff glanced at her and she saw something flicker across his face. It was too subtle and swift to interpret, and he hid it quickly and coughed as if to clear his throat.

  Stepping from the drawbridge and onto the driveway he said, ‘Surprised you, did it? That was just a speaker in its mouth, with a motion detector which plays a recording. I forgot Grimbell installed it recently. It is proving effective at discouraging unwanted visitors.’

  They walked the rest of the way to the kitchen in silence. Something about Geoff’s answer seemed odd. She couldn’t quite convince herself that she hadn’t seen the dragon’s mouth move or felt the tugging feeling of the dragon’s insignia.

  Hearing her footsteps on the cobblestones of the expansive driveway, she pondered on what it must be like to live in a place like this. It was almost like stepping back in time with the old rotary dial telephone in the main hallway, the glow emanating from fireplaces in the main rooms, and the apparent lack of modern devices like TVs, mobiles and computers. She could imagine Victorian ladies walking through the gardens in their bell-shaped dresses, and porters standing between the two massive columns that framed the heavy, double front doors. Walking through the vegetable garden to the right of the manor house, they made their way to the side door and entered the hustle and bustle of the hot kitchen. Geoff went back to his cooking and left her to hang up her jacket and get on with her duties.

  * * *

  It was a particularly busy morning in the kitchen and Deelind almost missed Geoff and Miss Tibi whispering in the pantry. She tried not to listen to their conversation but could not stop herself being drawn towards the pantry door.

  ‘… but she needs to be told soon,’ pleaded Miss Tibi.

  ‘If she is meant to, she will learn in good time and when she is old enough to understand,’ replied Geoff.

  ‘Old enough!’ Miss Tibi said in a fierce whisper. ‘If she is not at school she is working here. She is sixteen now and if that isn’t old enough, I don’t think you will ever think she is ready to know. Look at her. She has no real friends and you know that’s not healthy. I think she should be introduced to Jack’s boys.’

  A loud, shrill clang sounded. Geoff had dropped the large pot she had seen him carry to the pantry. It had been full of potatoes, if the sound of heavy things rolling on the floor was any indication. Deelind jumped, nearly knocking over a bucket and mop standing next to the pantry door.

  ‘Lady Lee has said no, Tib. You know the rules,’ he said firmly and calmly, his voice seemingly coming from different areas of the room as if he was retrieving rolling potatoes.

  Miss Tibi huffed and called out, ‘Deelind, we need some vegetables for tonight’s meal.’

  Deelind moved quietly away when she heard Miss Tibi’s footsteps approaching the pantry door. Why had they been talking about her? She wondered what they meant by her needing to know something, and who were Jack and his boys? Miss Tibi had said, ‘Jack’s boys,’ as though they lived next door.

  Other than the ground floor and the first floor of the manor house and the vegetable garden next to the kitchen, she had never been allowed to explore the estate on her own. The manor house was a huge, two-storey building with high ceilings and long, narrow, floor-to-ceiling windows.

  Each evening she would help Miss Tibi carry vast amounts of prepared food from the kitchen to both the dining room and up onto the terrace, situated on the first floor at the back of the house. Oddly, she never saw anyone on the estate other than Geoff, Miss Tibi, Grimbell, Lady Lee, housekeepers and some kitchen helpers, yet the plates returned to the kitchen completely empty. Where did the food go? Why on earth did they prepare enough food every day to feed two armies when there only ever seemed to be four people living on the estate? When she asked Geoff, he would cheerfully raise his arms up dramatically and say, ‘Well, who do you think feeds all the birds and moles?’

  It was frustrating. Clearly, birds and moles did not eat three-course meals. No matter how hard she had pushed, Geoff never gave a straight answer and as the
years passed, she had stopped asking.

  With her attention focused on the conversation she had just overheard, she almost forgot to answer Miss Tibi. ‘I’ll get them now, Miss Tibi,’ she called.

  ‘Not so fast!’ Miss Tibi’s voice sounded much closer. Her heart stopped. Did Miss Tibi know she had overheard them talking?

  ‘There you are!’ said Miss Tibi, walking towards her, her face open and friendly. Apart from some tightness around her eyes, Miss Tibi’s face revealed nothing of her argument with Geoff. ‘It is a beautiful day. Please can you pick some flowers before you pick the vegetables? There are plenty this year in the field next to the vegetable garden. You have been working so hard. I think some fresh air will do you good but mind you don’t wander too far or there will be hell to pay if Grimbell hears of it.’

  Grimbell was the caretaker of the manor estate. A stocky man, he was the same height as Miss Tibi, making Deelind taller than him by a good three inches. Grimbell was as old as the hills and barely said a word, grunting his way through every conversation. He was unable to move his left arm and its skin looked like it had been melted in a hot fire. It was probably why he was so grumpy.

  ‘Don’t wander outside the field and stay away from the Tor,’ added Miss Tibi, reaching up with a hand to brush a strand of hair away from Deelind’s face.

  ‘Yes. Thank you,’ Deelind said, rushing for the door before Miss Tibi could say anything else or change her mind. She could not believe her luck.

  While removing her kitchen apron and collecting the basket to hold the soon-to-be-picked vegetables, she heard Miss Tibi and Geoff having another heated discussion. They did seem to be arguing a lot today.

  ‘You said she could go where? You know Grimbell will be angry if he finds out. Let’s hope nothing happens to her again or, worse, she goes missing, too!’ Geoff growled at poor Miss Tibi as Deelind hurried out of the kitchen door. She did not want to wait around to hear any more or to be told she was no longer allowed to go into the field. It was a lovely day and a great opportunity to explore the estate garden.