Lily and the Traitors` Spell

by Webb, Holly

  At once several of the children reached over to do the same, filling their hands with water, as though now they’d seen Lily and the dog drink, they trusted it not to turn them into something dreadful.

  The girl next to Lily stretched out her hand, and held the tiny puddle of water for the boy on her arm to drink. He sucked at it greedily, and reached out his own thin little hands for more.

  ‘Thanks,’ the girl muttered. ‘Do you want us to help you carry her somewhere? She can lay down upstairs, in our room, if you like.’

  ‘No, look...’ Lily murmured. The water she had splashed onto Georgie’s face had trickled down into her mouth, just a drop or two, and her lips had reddened again.

  ‘Give her some more,’ the girl suggested, reaching her hand under the fountain, and offering Lily a handful of water.

  Lily nodded, and the girl dripped it slowly into Georgie’s mouth, nodding approvingly as she saw Georgie lick her lips. ‘Whatever she did, we won’t tell. There isn’t a pump near here that works, not till two streets over. And it doesn’t taste like this. She’s opening her eyes.’

  Lily glanced down, and saw that she was right. Georgie was looking up at them vaguely, and Lily hugged her, wrapping her arms around her sister hard. ‘Look what you did,’ she told her, half-crossly.

  ‘Oh...’ Georgie struggled up a little, gazing at the sunlight shining through the water. ‘I didn’t – it didn’t do anything bad?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘Not yet,’ Henrietta muttered very quietly from by her feet.

  ‘No. Here, take the bottle. I think you should do it.’ Lily handed her sister the ginger beer bottle, and watched as Georgie held it under the fountain, hearing it gurgle and fill, like the water was laughing.

  You did this for me? Lily’s father scribbled, stroking the bottle with his other hand, and smiling shyly at them.

  Lily nodded. ‘Georgie’s magic. She made the fountain work again, it’s beautiful.’

  I can feel it, there’s sunshine in the water. His letters came out straggly with strange loops and spikes here and there, from lack of practice. Lily wondered if his voice would be the same, when they brought it back. Are you all right, Georgie? he wrote carefully, holding out the pad to her with a worried look. The magic didn’t hurt you?

  Georgie looked down at her hands, as though she didn’t quite believe they were hers. ‘No – perhaps it was just glad to be out...’ She shivered. ‘But it was hard to wake up. I could feel Lily calling me, and the other children staring, but I was all wrapped up in the spells.’

  ‘The water woke you,’ Lily said, nodding at the bottle. It seemed to glow a little, in the dark room, and it made the air smell sweeter.

  A good omen, their father wrote. A sign.

  Lily nodded. She wasn’t sure who the sign was from, but she would take it anyway. They seemed to have been chasing about for such a long time. From Merrythought, to London, to Derbyshire and back. And then to New York to ask Rose for help. Each time they thought they were a little closer, and then suddenly a whole new part of the road would open up in front of them. Surely it was time for the spells to start unravelling. They’d worked so hard.

  ‘So will you get up?’ she asked hopefully. ‘Can you? Argent – the dragon, you know – he says he can provide the fire, to dissolve the spell, but he won’t fit down here.’

  Her father pushed the blankets aside, and swung his legs slowly to the edge of the mattress. He was still wearing the tattered shirt and trousers that he had arrived in two days ago, and he brushed his hand over the trousers wearily, and glanced up at Lily and Georgie, his eyes half mournful, half laughing.

  Lily laughed back, her heart suddenly beating harder. It felt like a joke, a shared joke, the sort of thing she would have with Georgie, or Henrietta. Look what the cat’s dragged in. A family thing. He had missed so much of their lives that it seemed even more special.

  Georgie smiled triumphantly, and laid the folded bundle she’d been carrying onto the bed next to him. ‘It’s for you. I asked one of the girls in the wardrobe to get it for you.’ She gave him a sudden worried look. ‘It’s from the rag market, it’s a bit old and faded... I mended the holes...’

  But he smiled at her, and reached up to stroke her cheek, before unfolding the bundle and revealing a dressing gown. It had once been a grand, showy garment, in dark red brocade, with satin lapels, but it was faded now to a streaky rose colour, and it smelled faintly of ancient cigar smoke. Standing up shakily, he pulled it on, and the long heavy folds swished around him like a robe. He looked stronger, and younger, without the torn and greyish shirt, and he laughed to himself as he tied the black cord around his waist and buried his hands in the full sleeves.

  He tucked the little notebook – one of Peter’s – and the stub of pencil in the deep pocket, and reached out his hands to Lily and Georgie.

  Lily slipped her hand in his, feeling the thin bones under her fingers, and the dry, papery skin of a prisoner kept without light.

  Her father squeezed her hand gently, and smiled down at her, as though he knew what she was thinking. Lily pressed close against him, enjoying the feeling of being small – of having a father, of having someone else to be in charge. Even if he was sick, and couldn’t speak to her.

  Lily and Georgie led him slowly through the passageways up to the stage, and he blinked nervously as they came out of the wings and into that bright, busy space. Lily was so at home there by now that she had to stop, and try to see it as he did, with people scurrying here and there with odd bundles, and piles of rope, and paint pots. A group of jugglers were arguing with each other over the gaslights at the front, and as they walked out of the wings Henrietta started hissing at the performing poodle that Daniel had foolishly engaged.

  And of course, there was a dragon stretched out along the back wall, apparently asleep. He opened one large, dark eye, though, as they came closer.

  ‘Did you find it?’

  Peter and Daniel, who had been putting a new coat of paint on one of the illusion cabinets, jumped up and came over to see, both looking relieved.

  Lily pointed triumphantly to the bottle weighting down her father’s dressing-gown pocket. ‘Georgie did it. It’s beautiful water, it tastes sweet, and it’s so clear. I know all water’s clear, but this glitters.’ She dug her nails into her palms anxiously. ‘I’m sure it’s right.’

  Her father gently let go of their hands, staggering just a little as he balanced himself, and then he pulled the bottle out of his pocket, offering it to the dragon.

  Argent reached out one massive front foot, turning it sideways so that the bottle could be placed inside a cage of claws. ‘Mmmmm,’ he murmured admiringly. ‘I can feel it. Alive, almost.’ He closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Ah, good. She’s coming.’

  ‘Who? Rose?’ Lily asked, her eyes widening. ‘Can you call people like that?’

  ‘Of course. She’s a Fell, Lily. And you know I can, child; I called you, did I not? I summoned you at Fell Hall. I could feel your magic, and I needed you to help me wake. The Fell blood is in you two, and your father, I told you that. Distantly related, but still. Enough for us to need each other.’

  Rose hurried onto the stage, with Gus wrapped round her shoulders like a fur tippet. ‘Did you...? I heard someone. That was you, wasn’t it?’ she demanded, staring at the dragon. ‘You could be a little more polite!’

  Argent ducked his head, gazing at her through half-lidded eyes. ‘So sorry. I am out of practice. I will be more fulsome next time.’

  Gus slid sinuously down to the stage, and stalked over to glare up at him. ‘Good. I heard it too, and cats do not respond to Come! I am not a dog. Thank goodness.’

  Henrietta snarled, and Lily crouched down to hug her. ‘Just ignore him. You know he’s doing it on purpose.’

  ‘Of course I know.’ Henrietta laid her ears
back. ‘It doesn’t make him any easier to take.’

  The dragon drummed his claws on the stage, a sharp volley of tapping, and then stared meaningfully at the bottle. The stopper began to turn gently, and then tumbled out. Lily was sure that the water inside was glowing faintly. She could see a shimmer above the open neck of the bottle.

  ‘What do we have to do?’ she whispered. She had never taken part in a ritual like this, a complex spell with so many magicians.

  ‘Dear one.’ The dragon gestured to Rose. ‘You know the spell, do you not? I should be most interested to hear if it has changed, since my time.’

  Lily suspected he was being extra flowery, to make up for his rude summoning before.

  Rose nodded. ‘I do know it, although I’ve never used dragon fire, of course. We had to purify the flames with spices, and a little dried salamander, though I was never quite sure that was necessary. Salamanders were terribly expensive, and they smell dreadful. Some of the stranger spell ingredients were only there to make money for the suppliers, I’m sure.’

  ‘This way will work better,’ the dragon told her, smoke spiralling smugly from his nostrils. ‘Do go on.’

  Lily caught her breath anxiously. She couldn’t help worrying about this spell – whether it was gong to hurt her father somehow. Having an enchantment taken off you with dragon fire did sound quite risky.

  ‘Well, in this case, since we’re restoring something that’s been taken...’ Rose walked round Lily’s father, staring at him thoughtfully, as if he was an interesting sort of project. ‘I think I would suggest instilling your fire into the water, and having him drink it. Particularly as it’s his voice he’s lost. It seems appropriate. Do you think that would work?’

  Daniel looked at her doubtfully. ‘You can’t put fire in water. I’ve tried all sorts of ways; it would be an excellent trick, really spectacular for the audience. But it’s just too difficult. You can light oil floating on water, of course, but how’s he going to drink that? We did have a fire swallower once, and believe me, he’d trained for a very long time. And he still wasn’t all that good at it.’

  Lily nodded. Drinking fire was just the sort of horrible thing she’d been worrying about.

  ‘Magical fire. Mama taught me about that,’ Georgie said quietly. ‘You can put it into a liquid form. For – for bad things.’ She shivered, turning a shade paler in the bright stage lights. Then she swallowed, and dug her nails into her palms as if she was swallowing the unruly spells back down inside her.

  Lily swallowed too, forcing back her panic. They would heal Georgie, they had to. Lily would not give her up, and let her become some fearful weapon in their mother’s hands.

  ‘Unless dragon fire is different,’ Georgie added, her voice small.

  ‘Far better,’ the dragon agreed. ‘Are the words the same? Unbind me, free me, loose me of my chains, and so on?’

  ‘Exactly. We could all say them together,’ Rose suggested.

  Lily glanced anxiously at her father, but he didn’t seem worried by the thought of all this. In fact, he was nodding eagerly.

  The dragon sighed, a little irritably. ‘Lily, dear child. Take the bottle for me. Claws are not made for such things. Put it down in front of me. Between me and your father.’

  Lily did as she was told, watching the silvery glow mist out of the bottle as she lifted it out of his talons. What would drinking that water every day do for the people in Fountain Court, she wondered, placing the bottle carefully on the stage. Maybe it was lucky – those children had looked like they could do with some luck. Lily smiled to herself. Perhaps she and Georgie had poured a little bit of magic into their lives.

  The dragon shifted himself out further into the middle of the stage, and all the stagehands and theatre performers melted further back into the wings. There was a strong sense of magic about to happen, so strong that Lily was sure even those with no magic inside them could feel it. It was prickling across her skin, making her heart beat faster.

  Argent twisted and rippled, stretching out his spine – and he was almost all spine – and mantling his wings. Then he hunched down low, his huge muzzle next to the bottle, as though he was going to swallow it. It wasn’t even a mouthful.

  Lily saw the jugglers who had been fighting huddle closer together, gripping each other’s hands, and she felt Georgie and Henrietta press up against her. Georgie was shaking. Such a strong sense of magic all around must make it even harder for her to control the spells, Lily guessed. She caught her sister’s hand, dry and feverish, and pressed it tightly.

  The dragon’s sides heaved, and then he let out a sudden sharp burst of flame, completely enclosing the stoneware bottle, which blackened and glowed red and then gold. And then it disappeared, leaving only the water, lapping and flame-shaped, shimmering above the wooden floor of the stage.

  The dragon stepped back, and growled at Lily’s father, as though the flames had scorched his throat. ‘Drink it.’

  How was he supposed to drink that, Lily wondered, feeling Georgie digging her nails into her palms, but her father seemed to know. He stumbled forward, sinking to his knees with the folds of the red dressing gown puddling around him, and then he scooped up the silvery flames in his hands.

  Rose gestured to Lily and Georgie, holding out her hands, and began to chant in a low voice, ‘Unbind me. Free me. Loose my chains.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Free my tongue. Release my voice. Let the magic pour through me once again.’ Then she nodded to the girls, and they joined in, the three of them standing in a ring around Lily and Georgie’s father. ‘Unbind me... Free me... Loose my chains...’

  Lily felt the words whisper through her, full of power, and she looked anxiously at Georgie. Would taking part in a spell like this waken the magic inside her? But her sister’s face was white and set, and she was chanting fiercely, spitting each word out as though it hurt. She was determined to control the spells, Lily saw. She was fighting them.

  ‘Unbind me,’ Lily whispered. ‘Free me...’

  Her father held the water-flames dancing and licking around his hands, and lifted his cupped palms up to his mouth, pouring the silvery liquid down his throat and swallowing painfully in great tearing gulps. Then he dropped his hands, little silver dribbles running from between his fingers, and tipped slowly over onto his side, unconscious.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Georgie cried, and she tore herself from the others and began to run towards him, but the dragon batted her aside with one massive claw.

  ‘Wait...’

  Lily caught Georgie and held her, and they clung together, watching as their father lay motionless on the stage for what seemed an age.

  Then, very gradually, he began to move. Lily gasped as she saw his fingers clenching and fumbling at the wooden boards, as though he wasn’t sure what they were. With slow, painful movements, he pulled himself up to his knees. Then he reached out his arms to Lily and Georgie, and as Lily ran to him, she saw that his eyes were clearer and wider than they’d been before, without that strange yellow cast of sickness.

  Lily huddled against him, feeling his arm round her, and Georgie next to her. She didn’t remember this – she knew it had happened before, it must have done, but she had no memory of her father before he was taken away. She could feel his magic now, so like her own, as it wrapped lovingly around her.

  ‘My girls...’ The voice was wavery, a little cracked from disuse, but it was there. ‘My clever, brave girls...’

  ‘It feels like a different country...’ Peyton Powers sighed, frowning down at the newspaper spread out in front of him. He was still wearing the dressing gown, but now over a clean shirt and trousers borrowed from Daniel. They shouldn’t really have fitted him, Lily thought, given that Daniel was only seventeen, and skinny, but feeding the prisoners hadn’t been something the warders in Archgate prison cared a great deal about. It wasn’t as if
anyone particularly wanted them kept alive.

  ‘Imagine how I felt,’ Argent muttered, peering over his shoulder. His sight didn’t adjust well to the fine print of newspapers and books, but he could puzzle out a few words here and there. ‘When we hid ourselves away under Fell Hall, magic was flourishing, even though the Fell bloodline had failed. Then I wake up and discover that I’m illegal...’

  Mr Powers, who seemed to have adapted remarkably well to living with a dragon, glanced up at him and snorted. ‘I’m not convinced you ever were legal. I’ll bet that Fell ancestor who first found himself a dragon never declared your people to the Crown. Any king with the first bit of sense would have had dragons as Crown property as fast as he could get the laws drawn up.’

  ‘And you think that would have made any difference?’ the dragon sniffed. ‘I am not anyone’s property, I thank you. We do not belong to the Fells. I do not belong to anyone. I merely – associate with the family.’

  Henrietta sniffed loudly, and for once Gus seemed to agree with her, staring sceptically at the dragon, and muttering, ‘For a few hundred years...’

  ‘Are we related to the Fells?’ Lily asked her father, hoping that this would distract the dragon. Henrietta was getting too familiar with him, Lily thought. She’d forgotten that she was perfectly mouthful-sized. ‘Argent says we must be, and Rose thinks we probably are.’

  Rose nodded. ‘I should know, but I wasn’t brought up at Fell Hall, so I missed out on a great deal of family history. Lily has a look of the family portraits, though, sometimes. As do you, Peyton.’

  Mr Powers looked up from the newspaper, frowning a little. ‘Your great-grandmother was a Fell, Lily. Did you not know?’

  Argent gave a satisfied sigh. Dragons did not lower themselves to saying I told you so, but it was quite clear he meant it.