by Cate Cain
“That can’t be right.” She shook her head. “The feast was laid out in an old house. I can see it now. You were both there and when Tolly touched my hand it broke that woman’s power over me, just for a moment. It was like waking from a nightmare. I tried to warn you to get out. In old magic, if you leave the table of a dark witch without her express permission she can never invite you into her home again or enchant you within its walls.”
“It was on the ship.” Jem glanced uncertainly at Tolly. He thought about Madame de Chouette’s cabin. The room had at first been oak-lined, but when Tolly pulled him free there had been flagstones on the floor and a great arched space above their heads. Where had they really been?
“How did you manage to outwit her?” Ann scanned their faces with interest. Jem was pleased to see that something of her old spirit was returning.
“That was Tolly again.” He grinned at his friend.
“I didn’t tell her my true name. It was Cazalon who gave me the name Ptolemy, not my mother and father. When she called us into the room she asked us to repeat our names aloud and thank her for the invitation. She said it was an old family custom, but it felt wrong to me.”
Ann smiled broadly, revealing the little gap between her front teeth. “You were right. If you willingly offer your name to a witch she can control you. It’s a simple but effective binding spell.”
Tolly nodded. “Binding, yes! There was a semicircle of salt on the floor too, just inside the door. It all seemed so familiar. It reminded me of Malfurneaux Place – something Cazalon would —”
“The mirror!” Ann gasped. “I remember – after the Twelfth Night feast. I was taken to an old house. She forced me upstairs to a dark room and there was a mirror. It was twice my height and it was set in a gilded frame. It was old – the glass was smoked and pitted. She made me put my hand flat against the glass and then … then …”
She broke off and brought her hand to her mouth. “Look.” Fumbling with her sleeve, she pushed up the flapping cuffs of Fabien’s shirt, baring her left arm to the elbow. She held it forward for Jem and Tolly to see.
The translucent skin of Ann’s arm was crisscrossed by a network of fine, raised scars – the legacy of the terrible magical rite Cazalon had used to communicate with her dead mother.
But there were three fresh, blood-crusted wounds on her arm now too. Someone had used Ann to make the blood bridge to the dead lands once again – recently. Jem felt a sick, plummeting sensation in the pit of his stomach.
Only one person would dare to undertake such a dangerous journey. They didn’t need any more proof.
Cazalon was most definitely alive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“What do we do now? If Cazalon is here, we need to get away fast.” Jem rubbed his hands together over the flames, but nothing seemed to warm him.
“We have to find a ship returning to England.” Tolly shuffled closer to the fire. “Did you see any other vessels moored at Port Melas or standing off the coast?”
Jem shook his head. “I didn’t really take much in. When the wolf appeared so much started to happen so fast and then Ann told us not to look back, remember? I … I’m glad I didn’t. Those noises we heard – it must have been the Fortuna.”
He stared into the fire and wondered what had really happened back at the little settlement. Where had the huge wolf come from? Had it defeated Madame and if that was the case …
Jem shook his head, trying to knit some sense from what they had seen and not seen.
Ann stroked Cleo’s rounded back. The little monkey was nestled in her lap. “Never look into the heart of a dark working for it will leave a stain on your soul – my mother told me that once.”
Jem thought of his own mother back at Goldings. He blinked hard and told himself his eyes were stinging from the smoke of the fire.
“You’ll see her again, Jem.” Tolly’s voice was warm. Jem spun round. Tolly smiled apologetically. “Sorry, it was an accident. But I agree – we need to keep moving. If Cazalon is already here, waiting for Madame to deliver Ann straight to him, we need to make sure that neither of them find her. I don’t think we should go back to Port Melas, do you?”
“No.” Jem shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll welcome us. Goodman Winterbourne said something about other settlements, didn’t he?”
“But even if we find a ship, how will we pay for our passage?” Ann frowned.
“I’ll sell this.” Jem reached into his collar and pulled out the golden medal given to him by Sarah. It gleamed in the firelight as it twisted about on the chain. “It’s old-fashioned, but I think it’s gold and these gems must be valuable. It’s been in our family for generations.”
“What does that writing say, there on the rim? May I?” Ann reached over to tilt the medallion so that she could see the letters more clearly. She pulled the chain to bring it close and Jem had to bend so that their heads almost touched. He noticed that Ann smelled sweet, like a fresh-cut meadow.
“I can’t make it out. Did you ever notice the patterns?” She turned the medallion in her hand. “It looks like a triangle on this side, and on this side …” she held it up, “there are three figures, each with a tiny jewel in their hand.”
Jem shook his head. “I haven’t looked that closely. What do you think, Tolly, is it enough to buy our passage home?”
“It should be. People are always ready to buy gold.”
As Tolly leaned forward to peer at the medal, Cleo jumped towards it. She chattered excitedly as the yellow metal glinted in the light. “She loves shiny things. She’s like a magpie.” Tolly grinned at Ann. “Do you remember how she stole the glass jewels sewn onto Juno’s costume when we were in Colchester? Every night she crept back and took as many as she could carry, until by the end of the week there were hardly any left.”
Ann laughed. “And Juno thought there were rats living under her caravan. She got Gabriel to crawl underneath to scare them off and then he got wedged between the wheel struts and Cornelius had to …” She stopped. “Do you really think we’ll see them again?” Her voice was small and muffled.
“Yes, you will.” Jem pushed the medal back into the neck of his shirt, feeling more confident now they could pay. They’d escaped Cazalon before, and they could do it again. “We all will.”
They were silent for a minute before Ann’s next question. “What makes you so certain Cazalon’s in the new colonies?” She looked from Jem to Tolly in turn, her eyes full of confusion.
“Because Madame de Chouette took you prisoner for him.” Jem reached out to the fire again. “Your birthday is in May, isn’t it?”
“Yes, on the Feast of Beltane – the first day of the month.”
“And how old will you be this year?”
“Thirteen.”
“Do you ever think about your inheritance?”
She smiled wanly. “There’s nothing left to inherit. Cazalon took it all when he became my guardian. Everything – except this shawl. My grandmother made it.” She pulled the red woollen cloth tight around her shoulders. When she spoke again her voice was defiant. “But I don’t care about possessions. I have my memories and the stories my mother and grandmother told me. No one can take those away …”
“Think hard.” Jem’s mind was racing. “Did your mother and grandmother ever tell you anything about a special birthday?”
Ann sighed and began to draw patterns in the dust again. “They made every birthday special.” Her voice was almost a whisper. When she looked up tears glistened in her eyes. “We always sang a song together on the morning of my birthday. My grandmother had sung it to my mother and my grandmother’s mother had sung it to her. It was a nursery song, the same every year. I deliberately try not to remember everything because it hurts so much.”
She began to sing in a clear voice.
“One for the child who is yet to know
Two for the child who begins to grow
Three for the laughter in each day
Four for th
e games she loves to play
Five for the stories she is told
Six for the joy of being bold
Seven for the child who needs no charm
Eight for the child kept close from harm
Nine for the day she learns to spell
Ten for the lessons learned so well
Eleven for all that she will see
Twelve for the lady she will be
And of these years the happy morn
Thirteen when she will be born.”
The notes rang around the cave, lingering long after Ann came to the end. Only when the last note faded away completely did Jem feel able to speak.
“It’s in the song, Ann. Your inheritance, I mean.”
She shook her head and rubbed her eyes roughly with the heels of her hands. “But it’s just an old song.”
“No, listen: ‘And of these years the happy morn, thirteen when she will be born.’ Tolly and I think we know what it means. You will be ‘born’ on your thirteenth birthday – you will come into your full power as a sorceress. And that’s why Cazalon wants you.”
“And why Madame de Chouette was bringing you to him in good time.” Tolly rose to his feet. “Now do you see, Ann?”
She didn’t answer and Tolly continued. “He is already here somewhere. He means to take your newborn powers.”
For a moment no one spoke. Outside, somewhere in the forest, a wolf howled. The long eerie sound echoed in the cave.
Jem stood and took a deep breath. “We have to get you away from this land before that can happen.”
At daybreak they stood at the mouth of the cave and scanned the snow-capped forest below.
“Which way?” Ann knotted her hair back again to keep it from flying about in the wind. She now wore Tolly’s cloak over her ill-fitting clothes, but she had given him the red woollen shawl to tuck around his shoulders and to shield Cleo.
The day was bitingly cold. Skeins of white cloud unravelled across the blue sky.
“That’s the sunrise, so we’re facing east. We need to head that way.” Jem pointed with Cazalon’s staff. “Goodman Winterbourne said the other settlements on the coast were to the south.”
Tolly nodded. “So we need to make our way back down through the forest until we reach the coast and then follow it until we find somewhere?” He looked up at the sky. “At least it’s not snowing.”
“But it’s still bitter.” Ann blew on her fingers and rubbed her hands together. “I can’t believe we are so far from home. That everything is carrying on back there without us.” She took a deep breath. “It’s very beautiful here, isn’t it? Miles and miles of forest and not a soul in sight. It’s like England, but not like England. It feels so … so … huge.”
Jem stared down at the shrouded land. “It feels so empty too, but he’s here somewhere. We have to get back to England, Ann. We have to get you away before …” He stopped.
Before what exactly?
He glanced across. Ann’s green eyes danced as she drank in the view. Madame had been clever, he thought. Fabien was Ann’s opposite in every way. He looked over the trees again at the distant sea. Cazalon had to be out there somewhere. Why else would Madame have stolen Ann, enchanted her and made that terrible voyage?
But then again …
A spark flickered into his mind. Madame hadn’t been so clever after all, had she? Ann was with them now. Perhaps Cazalon didn’t even know she was here in the new colonies?
He continued more confidently. “As soon as we reach a settlement we’ll buy a passage on the first ship out. We’ll be home before your birthday.”
There was a sharp cracking sound overhead. Jem glanced up and saw a splinter jag across the snowcovered rockface above the cave entrance. Slowly the snow began to move.
“Duck!” He dropped the staff to grab Ann’s hand and pulled her away. Tolly leaped forward too, clasping Cleo to his shoulder with his good hand. Behind them they heard the soft whumph of heavy snow, and the rumble and rattle of stones.
A couple of seconds later, the mouth of the cave was completely sealed. White flakes flew up in the air around them.
“Look.” Jem brushed powdery snow from his head and shoulders. “There are rocks in the fall. We might have been trapped inside.” He shuddered. They could easily have died in there, sealed together forever in a stone tomb. That really would have been the end. At least now they had a chance, even if Cazalon, or Madame de Chouette – or both – was on their tail.
As he bent to retrieve the staff a huge ragged shadow fell across the snowy ledge. Jem sprang up, but the bird had gone.
He shot a look at Tolly. He was staring up into the wide blue sky and seemed to be listening. Jem knew why. Suddenly, the vast landscape didn’t seem empty at all. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen as he tightened his grasp on Cazalon’s staff and began to walk.
“Come on. We’re going to find a port and we are going home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jem stepped into a shadowy clearing, allowing himself a brief pause. Which way now? Everywhere looked exactly the same. He stepped up onto a flat rock and craned his neck. He needed to track the path of the sun, but the sky was now a strange leaden yellow. Night was coming already. He brushed snowflakes from his cheek.
Tolly crunched alongside. “We have to find shelter soon. Ann can’t go much further today. She keeps falling behind and we’d be better off hiding than moving slowly at dusk – we’re easy prey for Cazalon out here.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Owls hunt at night.”
Jem turned. Ann was twenty yards behind, just emerging from the treeline and into the clearing. Her face was almost translucent.
Tolly continued quietly. “She won’t say anything, but she’s exhausted and hungry. We all are.” He patted Cleo’s nose, which poked out from the shawl at his neck. “Not long, girl,” he whispered unconvincingly. “What are we going to do, Jem?
Jem rubbed at his chapped lips. “We’ve got to keep going. It’s all we can do. Surely, we must reach the coast soon? Then we’ll be on a ship, and away. Safe.” He looked up into the dark cathedral of trees and his heart plummeted as he remembered Spider’s words: Beats me why the fancy Madame’s so keen to make the crossing in winter. Never been done before.
How long would they have to wait?
Their journey that day hadn’t been as simple as he’d thought.
At first, after they scrambled down from the rocky outcrop, the sun had penetrated the forest, but the deeper they went, the darker it became. Snatches of blue sky overhead had disappeared hours ago, replaced by the dense, dark canopy of firs. Jem didn’t like to admit it, but for a long time now he hadn’t even been certain that they were heading in the right direction.
A distant howling made them both scan the trees around the clearing.
“The forest must be full of wolves … and they hunt at night too.” Tolly reached down to haul Ann up beside them.
“It’s not the wolves I’m worried about.” She clambered onto the rock.
Tolly clutched her arm to steady her. “You sense it as well?”
She nodded. “We’re being followed. Ever since we came down into the forest I’ve felt something nearby. Sometimes it’s almost as if there’s a voice in my head, but if I try to listen and make sense of it, there’s nothing. Once or twice when I looked back I thought I saw something pale slipping among the trees, but when I stood still and looked properly, there was nothing. But I …”
“But you can feel something there?”
Ann answered Tolly’s sharp question with a single nod.
“I can too – something has been watching us.” Tolly’s jaw clenched tight as he turned in a slow circle, his eyes searching the shadows beyond the trees.
“Is it … Do you think it’s Cazalon?” Jem hardly dared to speak the name aloud. “Or is it her?”
Tolly shook his head. “I don’t know. What do you say, Ann?”
She shivered. “All I know is th
at if we don’t find food and shelter soon, it won’t actually matter. Tolly, you can’t go on like that. Here, take this back.” She started to struggle out of the cloak, but Jem stopped her.
“No! You need it. We can share mine. I’ll rip it in two, there’s plenty of material. It’s stupid of me – I should have thought of it earlier.”
He dropped Cazalon’s staff and fumbled at the neck of his cloak to loosen the tie. As he did so, the mournful cry of a hundred wolves ripped the air.
Jem froze. When the howling stopped abruptly he wasn’t sure whether to be glad or terrified. “What should we do?” He glanced at Tolly. Cleo was scenting the air, her face pressed against the dark skin of her master’s cheek, her button eyes darting wildly as if she expected a wolf to leap from the shadows at any moment.
Ann reached up to free her hair from the knot at her neck. She quickly plucked a couple of strands and held them out. “Instead of trying to run, I could try a sealing charm. It’s simple. I just need a single hair from your heads and from Cleo’s too, then I can build a circle barrier around this stone to shield us. What do you think?”
“I don’t think we have much choice. Here.” Jem yanked a hair from his right temple and Tolly winced as he pulled a springy black wiry strand free.
“This is going to be tricky,” Tolly muttered as he turned his attention to Cleo. She stared at him as he reached to stroke her, then she squealed. “I haven’t even it done it yet! Come on, girl.” He tried again, but Cleo screeched and burrowed into the shawl.
“Cl—’ Tolly halted as a thudding noise and the sound of fast, ragged breathing came from somewhere nearby.
Jem yelled. “Quickly, Ann!”
“I can’t, it’s too late.” She pointed. “Look …”
Jem followed the line of her stricken gaze and gasped as he caught sight of a huge grey shape slinking between the trees. It was coming straight at them.
Jem’s stomach knotted into a ball. They were defenceless, exposed and about to be torn to shreds by a wolf the size of a bull. His mind whirled with jumbled thoughts and questions. He found himself thinking of Dr Speight and wished he was at Goldings right now doing one of the man’s deadly equations. But he’d never see Goldings again, would he?