Deelind and The Icefire

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Deelind and The Icefire Page 22

by Lance Dempster


  ‘Sorry,’ he said, looking remorseful.

  Walking through the shop towards the front door, April said, ‘That’s okay. We just need to spend more time with each other, and you’ll soon see that I’m just a regular girl with magical abilities.’ She tucked her arm into his. ‘Let’s start now. I have never read a moler’s palm before,’ she said to Mug, looking out from under her eyelashes.

  Deelind ducked her head in amusement. Watching April’s flirtations with Mug was always entertaining.

  ‘Come, the room is this way,’ said April, leading Mug to the office next to the entrance. Deelind tried to slip out of the front door but Mug grabbed her hand and pulled her in behind him.

  ‘I am not so sure this is a good idea,’ said Mug warily.

  ‘Nonsense,’ said April, sitting Mug down at a table. Taking his hand in hers, she started studying it, making little noises to herself at what she saw and tracing patterns on his palm with a finger. Looking around the room, Deelind could see that it appeared to be nothing more than a normal messy room with a filing cabinet, chair and desk. In the one corner was an interesting bookcase filled with witchcraft books and spell books. The doorbell rang and April reluctantly let Mug’s hand go.

  ‘Now don’t go anywhere,’ said April, winking at Mug and Deelind. Mug paled and Deelind bit her lip to suppress the bubble of laughter that threatened to escape. Curious, Deelind tried to see who had come into the shop but Mug had other ideas.

  ‘We’re getting out of here now before she comes back and continues with her hare-brained schemes,’ said Mug dragging Deelind out of the front door, which rang the doorbell again, making Mug cringe and hurry along quicker.

  ‘Why, hello, Sergeant Sam, the scout section is proving popular today…’ was all Deelind caught as they exited the shop. She sighed wistfully as Mug marched them past the delicious-smelling coffee shop and down the road towards the river. Not only would she have loved a quick snack, but part of her also wanted to slip back to the shop and listen to what Sergeant Sam was up to. Unfortunately, the doorbell would have given her away and she wanted to avoid Sergeant Sam at all costs.

  The afternoon had gone by quickly and it was starting to get dark. ‘It’s getting late. Let’s meet at the vegetable garden after breakfast tomorrow morning. I’ll have an hour available before heading back into my morning study sessions at the Learning Tree. I would like to go explore my old home. I haven’t seen it since the fire and it would be a good opportunity to study the hedge to see if there is a way through,’ she said. ‘There must be a reason Captain Roeland put a red ring around the cottage.’

  ‘Good idea. Hope tomorrow isn’t as mad as today,’ said Mug. They parted ways and she headed straight back to the manor house while he rushed back to the pit. She dropped her stuff in her room and made it to the dining room just as the meal was being served.

  * * *

  The next morning a trembling Elp rushed through the open bedroom window, whispered something to Dreki and then fled. When Dreki relayed that Mug was not going to be able to get away from the pit that day, she decided it was probably for the better. She needed to focus on studying for her DKCs. Her exams were just over a week away and she still had her featherlite training in the afternoons. Her schedule was so full she couldn’t see how she was going to find time before the summer holidays were over to explore her gran’s burnt-out cottage or find clues as to where Rudy had gone.

  In the last week of the summer holidays Deelind woke with a burst of excitement. Today she was going scouting. Corporal Lucy had said that her training could resume when school started up again and that she should go off and enjoy some of the summer holidays. Her exams were done, and she had achieved all her DKCs. It was a huge relief to have them behind her. It was clear Dreki felt the same. The day before she had asked Dreki to send a message via the Elps to Mug to meet her at the vegetable garden after breakfast. She dressed in her scout clothes and headed to the dining room, only to find no one there.

  Wandering into the kitchen, Deelind greeted Geoff and Miss Tibi who, alongside several Elps, were busy with food preparation. Geoff had asked the Elps for help when the hedge had cut off the manor house from the village and the kitchen staff could not get into work.

  ‘I have set you a place at the kitchen table,’ said Miss Tibi. ‘None of us can join you for breakfast this morning and I thought it would be nicer for you to sit here in the kitchen, so you have company.’

  Deelind settled herself at the table as feeling of being home eased over her. She’d spent so much time and had so many meals here over the years. However, it was going to make getting away unnoticed harder. Miss Tibi and Geoff were going to want to know what her plans for the day were and she just knew they wouldn’t agree to what she had in mind. She pondered while eating a large plate heaped with pancakes. Dreki hopped onto the kitchen counter, avidly watching Geoff chop potato slices faster than the eye could keep up with.

  ‘Please can I try?’ said Dreki, dancing on the spot in excitement.

  Geoff stopped in surprise and stared at Dreki. ‘Why not, I guess. Some of the smaller Elps in the Dining Tree manage just fine. Let’s get you set up.’ He placed a small chopping knife and board on the counter alongside a few carrots for dicing.

  Dreki eagerly picked up his knife and a carrot and under Geoff’s careful instructions they were soon engrossed in the lesson. Miss Tibi went over to watch Dreki. Now was the time, she realised. Everyone was distracted. Standing up she could see Dreki’s sharp concentration and joy on his face. It was good to see him enjoying himself. He deserved a break as much as she did. She slipped out of the door and headed to the vegetable patch.

  On seeing the vegetable garden again, memories of the day she met Mug and his family rushed back. The garden seemed so small now. So much had happened and she could barely recognise her life now compared to life with Gran. Mug had already arrived. While they walked, Deelind told him her plans about finding Rudy.

  ‘You’re crazy of course, but I like that in a friend,’ said Mug, nodding sagely.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said drily.

  ‘My pleasure. You know normal people would leave it to the Dragonknights or grown-ups to find Rudy. But I can’t see the harm in snooping around looking for clues. It’ll be fun!’

  Rather than leading them to the main gate as Deelind expected, Mug led them through the vegetable garden and over the stone wall into the crater-filled meadow. She saw the crater that she had first seen Mug and Ivan in.

  ‘Where are you going, Mug? This is not the way to the cottage.’

  ‘I am taking you to a side entrance near the boundary wall. It goes under the moat and out the other side of the wall. Few people use it. Mostly it’s just molers using it when we go to Buttercup.’

  Picking her way through the meadow and skirting the worst of the craters, she asked, ‘What happened to this meadow? Was it from the Second World War?’

  ‘No, not the war. This was where Blackthorn attacked the manor house and killed Princess Lee’s family. It was the day when you and the other children from Buttercup were here for the spring picnic.’

  Deelind stopped in the middle of the meadow and looked around. None of it looked familiar to her. From the number of craters, it must have been terrifying. She was not sure how anyone survived it. On the far side of the meadow she could see the moat and boundary wall.

  Walking again, she followed Mug to a large grassed crater near the moat. Going down steps that were roughly carved into the crater’s sidewall, Deelind couldn’t miss the six-foot-high stone dragon head resting on the bottom of the crater. Its mouth and eyes were closed, with its lower jaw resting on the ground. Mug walked up to the dragon’s head and put his hand on the top of its nose between its eyes. The stone mouth opened smoothly and quietly. A dark cavern awaited. Her nose wrinkled.

  Mug turned to Deelind and with a sombre look on his face and a cheeky twinkle in his eye, he gave a slight bow and waved his arm to the dragon mouth, saying, �
��Would you like to go first?’

  Snorting, she said, ‘No way, you first. You like dark, cramped spaces more than I do. I’m happy to follow.’

  Mug dropped to his knees and crawled into the dragon’s mouth. Nervously Deelind followed him in. Sharp, highly polished stone teeth brushed the sides of her body as she crawled onto its cold marble tongue and then down into its rough sandstone throat. Glow stones lit up the tunnel as they progressed steeply downwards. At the bottom the tunnel levelled out and became high enough for them to be able to walk if they stayed slightly hunched. The tunnel was carved to look like the insides of a ribcage.

  ‘We are walking under the first half of the moat,’ said Mug, his voice slightly muffled from being ahead of her.

  Deelind blinked, it was hard to wrap her head around the idea that they were walking underneath lots of water. Soon they came to a black metal gate which Mug pulled open so they could walk through.

  ‘We are halfway now. Please close the gate behind you or we will not be able to get out on the other side.’ They continued along at a steady pace.

  ‘We are at the boundary wall. We will have to crawl our way out from here.’ Falling to their knees they started crawling upwards in what looked and felt like the same throat tunnel they had climbed down. Instead of crawling into a dragon’s mouth they came to steel bars blocking the exit of what could be mistaken for a stormwater drain. She watched Mug wiggle his way between the bars to get out and she did the same. The exit was near the boundary wall, hidden in a small thicket of brambles.

  ‘How do we get out of this thicket? The brambles are so dense I can’t even see through them,’ said Deelind, jumping back in surprise when an Elp head popped out of the brambles directly in front of her.

  ‘Branch Leader Elp Bram at your service,’ said the Elp who looked much like the bramble growing around him. Full of small thorns and delicate, pale pink flowers, he even had ripe blackberries growing off him.

  ‘Can we have passage through your brambles please?’ said Mug.

  Without a word, Elp Bram disappeared into the brambles. After a few seconds and much rustling of leaves, the brambles began to move aside, forming an arched pathway leading out of the thicket. Deelind could see a snap of Elps, who resembled Elp Bram, holding the brambles back. As they walked single file down the pathway, Deelind noticed that the thorns on the branches pointed away from them, making sure their clothing and skin were safe from being snagged on sharp thorns. The brambles closed behind them as they passed through. As soon as they had cleared the thicket, Mug set a quick pace towards her gran’s cottage.

  It wasn’t long before Mug said, ‘Here we are. We made good time, too. Let’s hang our bags on this tree branch while we explore.’

  ‘Mug!’ Turning to see who shouted, they saw Tom running towards them. ‘Dad wants you back at the pit now. Rodney is sick and Dad needs your help today.’

  Mug groaned, ‘Of all the luck! Now we’ll have to wait till next weekend.’

  ‘Go, I will just spend some time here looking around the cottage.’ Seeing Mug’s reluctance to leave her on her own, she added, ‘This may be my only chance. In a few days we’ll be back at school. Remember I am a featherlite and Zara is always with me.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ said Mug doubtfully.

  ‘I am. You’d best go, your dad is waiting. You, too, Tom. Go back with Mug.’ To her relief Tom left with Mug without argument and, not for the first time, she wondered what Tom was up to.

  CHAPTER 15

  ICEFIRE

  Hanging her bag on the branch as Mug had suggested, she stood for a moment taking stock of her surroundings. The blackthorn hedge was just on the other side of the stream that ran next to the cottage. Suddenly grateful for the opportunity to be here on her own, she braced herself and walked towards the burnt-out building. She paused for a moment near the door, taking in the enormity of what had happened. As she stepped across the threshold, the acrid smell of burnt wood and the blackened walls surrounded her, invading her senses. Looking around, she saw burnt scraps of her old life scattered on the floor. Near the wall by her feet, she spotted a charred, dusty piece of paper that looked achingly familiar. It was largely intact, having somehow escaped the fiery blaze. Bending, she picked it up gently and blew off some of the dirt. She sucked in a deep breath. Gran’s flowing script filled the page. A page that had been in gran’s starcraft book. She gently traced the writing with her finger as her chest constricted. Carefully, she folded the page and put it in her pocket.

  She swallowed hard, her hand rising to rub the centre of her chest to ease the pain. The cottage attack, her gran’s death, the loss of it all felt so much more real now. Her time spent recovering in the infirmary had let her hide from the reality of it all while grieving over her gran’s death. Trying to absorb the new life thrust upon her had allowed her thoughts to slide away from looking too closely at what she now saw in front of her.

  Surprised, she felt tears on her cheeks. She thought she had cried out all the pain and anger, but in truth, it was too soon. It was only a few months ago that she had still been living with her gran. She missed Gran dreadfully. Her life was so different now. She was caught up in a war that had been raging for decades in a world that had been hidden from her. Between the talking heads saying she was going to betray Princess Lee and Oakman’s branch dying after touching her, what hope was there for her? No one trusted her. She saw that at Cracker Jacks pub. Her gran was dead, her home gone. Feeling desperately alone and filled with the hopelessness of it all, she crumpled to the floor. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she laid her head on her knees and sobbed.

  ‘You are not alone, you have friends and family and me,’ said Zara softly, pressing a feeling of warmth into her and weaving it around her. ‘You have had a shock by coming here. You are feeling the loss of all that was. Breathe and grieve. I am here with you through it all.’ Through her pain and tears, Deelind grabbed hold of Zara’s warmth and strength, allowing herself to be soothed.

  In her grief she heard the noise too late. Opening her eyes, she saw feet all around her. Alarmed, she looked up and straight into Spike’s eyes.

  Sneering, he said, ‘Ooh DeeDee, what’s with all the tears, huh?’ His bottom lip stuck out in mock sadness. ‘Never mind, I’m about to make things all better.’

  Weird, black ghost skulls were attached to the right upper arm of each member of Spike’s gang. The skulls sprang out at her, snapping and snarling. Shrinking back, she tried to jump to her feet, but Spike threw white dust into her face and kicked her in the stomach. The skulls screamed in wicked mirth. She cried out in pain and inhaled the dust.

  ‘Got you!’ shouted Spike, his skull glared balefully, its red eyes glowing. Leaning in close to her, Spike said softly, his voice laced with anger, ‘It’s payback time. I’ve not forgotten how you broke my nose.’ He straightened up and stepped back. ‘Ah, I see it is taking hold. You’re going to love this next bit,’ he said with a smirk.

  At once her body went cold, ice-cold, starting at the top of her head, then working its way down. Shivering uncontrollably, her teeth chattered, and her body ached. As soon as the cold reached her feet, her head started to burn. The burning did the same thing as the cold, making its way to her feet. The heat felt unbearable. Sweat rolled down her face while her legs were frozen. The cold was replaced by heat, which was then replaced by ice, then heat, then ice, and so it went on and on.

  Mentally she screamed, ‘Zara! Where are you?’

  A small stream of water splashed onto the ground as hanging icicles melted. Zara’s worried voice, which was getting ever fainter, said, ‘I am here. A barrier is forming between us. Be strong, Deelind, you can do this. We are still one. We will find a way and…’ Her voice was gone. Deelind curled into herself trying to ease the intense pain.

  In the distance she heard Spike instruct his gang. ‘Take her back to the town. This is fun, isn’t it? Dog, give her another dose of IceFire and let’s get going.’ A
s the drug took hold of her, everyone’s voices receded, and little seemed to matter other than the never-ending freezing fire. Her head was in the ice phase and Dog’s hands felt like burning coals as he held her face still. She screamed in agony as Dog dropped more IceFire into her mouth. The powder fell onto her tongue, she tried to spit it out, but Dog quickly held her mouth shut.

  ‘There,’ said Dog, ‘that will keep you high for a couple of hours and get you hooked onto it.’

  She could feel the second dose intensifying the effects of the first one. The cold and burning were ten times stronger now. It should have been unbearable yet, oddly, she almost enjoyed it. In the fog of the drug’s onslaught, she tried to sit up and found she could hardly move.

  ‘Hurry,’ said Spike, ‘bring her!’

  ‘Why don’t you?’ snapped Dog.

  ‘Any of you disobey one more time and you will find yourselves in the fields and never allowed into the service of Blackthorn!’ said Spike menacingly.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ said Dog, who quickly bent over and pulled her up into a standing position. He pulled her right arm over his shoulder and placed his left arm around the back of her waist. Her head flopped around. She heard Dog mutter to himself. ‘I hope never to join his service anyway.’

  ‘What did you say?’ said Spike slowly, his skull moving towards Dog.

  ‘She is heavy, that is all,’ said Dog quickly. Deelind didn’t buy his explanation. Dog was a well-built guy and had lifted her up off the floor without any difficulty. Trying to struggle, she realised she no longer had any control over her body. Any place where Dog touched her skin it either burnt or froze, and pain was a constant companion.

  ‘Zara!’ she mentally cried out in anguish, but her plea was met with silence.

 

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