Erner returned to the dining room alone. “The Virtus would like to talk to you upstairs, Patch,” he said.
Patch felt all the blood drain from his face. Without a word, he made his way out of the room, moving as slowly as he possibly could without actually stopping. As he reached the halfway point on the stairs, Rundel Stone’s voice came from above, startling him.
“Don’t be all day,” said Rundel, standing at the top step. “Have your feet been weighed down with rocks?”
Patch hurried upstairs, following Rundel as he went into a small room with a desk and two chairs.
“Take a seat and close the door,” instructed Rundel, and Patch silently did as asked, his gaze downward. Rundel let out a long sigh, and shook his head. “Do you think I’m going to shout at you, boy?”
Patch didn’t look up. “Yes,” he said.
“Why? Because of what you did to Erner?”
Patch nodded.
“Perhaps I should shout,” said Rundel. “Do you have your pardon from the Pipers’ Council? Tobias told me you carry it at all times.”
Patch felt uneasy giving his pardon to Rundel Stone, almost as if he expected the man to tear it up and laugh.
Rundel read it and gave it back. “I took no pleasure in seeing you taken to the dungeons, Brightwater. I did what had to be done.”
Patch said nothing. If Rundel Stone wanted his conscience eased, Patch wasn’t going to help him.
“I spoke with Erner,” said Rundel. “He bears you no malice, but is understandably pained by your betrayal.”
The word, and the way Rundel Stone said it, almost made Patch jump.
“That’s how the prophecy referred to it, yes?” said Rundel. “A betrayal?”
“No!” said Patch. “The prophecy was talking about someone who would betray me. Or us, or… Anyway, Erner spoke the words in the prophecy, and that was why I pushed him off Barver’s back. Then the Pipers’ Council spoke the words, and…”
“Yes, yes,” said Rundel. “I’ve yet to decide what the prophecy tells us about the Council. A worrying thought, I have to admit, but my focus at this very moment is you, and what you did to Erner. Did you think he would betray you? Send you back to the dungeons, perhaps?”
“I didn’t think, not really,” said Patch. “I was just scared.”
“Scared…” said Rundel. “And so you condemned someone – supposedly a friend – to an uncertain fate.” He stopped talking, and looked at the various papers that lay across the desk, deep in thought. “Oh, did Tobias remember to give you the letter that came from your parents?” He frowned. “No, not your parents. My apologies. From your grandparents. Your parents died when you were very young, yes? I recall hearing the sorry tale when you first came to study in Tiviscan. What was it again?”
“My family made a living crafting with wood and leather,” said Patch. “My parents sometimes travelled far to get the best prices on finer work. They were in Southern Praze when…” He stopped, unable to say the rest of it.
“Ah, yes, I remember now. They were caught up in the Great Rains, and perished in one of the many landslides that followed.”
Patch nodded.
“So you have craft running through the family, then?” said Rundel. “You made the Pipe you used when you fought the Hamelyn Piper, Tobias said. Can I see it?”
“It was broken. I made another. It’s in my satchel, tied to Barver’s harness.”
“I’ll be sure to examine it. In your trial, Lord Pewter was very much taken by your skill at Pipe-making.” Rundel looked at his own right hand, and flexed the curled fingers. “I cannot Pipe, not any more. My hand is in constant pain. The poison has twisted and slowed my fingers. Even if they straighten, they will never regain their speed.” He seemed distant for a moment, then shook his head and looked back at Patch. “To business. You are here, Brightwater, so that we may discuss your actions against Apprentice Erner Whitlock, and your actions in Tiviscan that led to the defeat of the Hamelyn Piper.”
“I expected as much,” said Patch.
“Tobias has told me your account of events. Erner has confirmed those events he witnessed, and has told me of his experiences in the court of the Pirate King, Noss. I understand that before now, he’s spoken very little about what he suffered?”
“Hardly a word,” said Patch. His mouth felt terribly dry as he spoke. He knew there was much he would eventually learn about what had happened to Erner – a deep pit of dreadful tales was waiting for him, and he wasn’t sure if he could bear falling into it.
Rundel shook his head in sorrow. “Erner’s training as an Apprentice Custodian was intended to prepare him for many of the horrors the world can inflict, but I can’t think of another Apprentice given such a trial by fire. Now listen carefully, Brightwater. I know you’re in anguish about your betrayal of Erner. But I have a way to rid you of that.”
Patch was puzzled, but said nothing.
Rundel continued. “Tobias told me you returned to Tiviscan because your dracogriff friend, Barver, had a message for Lord Drevis. Couldn’t he simply have sent a letter?”
“Barver reckoned it had to be done in person,” said Patch. “It was the dying wish of Barver’s mother that the message was only for Lord Drevis. A letter could have been read by anyone.”
Rundel nodded. “So, given that Barver would have caused a very considerable degree of alarm had he approached the castle, and you yourself would have been sent back to the dungeons for the rest of your life, you decided that your rat friend, Wren, would locate Lord Drevis. She was in human form at the time, as I understand it?”
Patch nodded. “Me and Barver stayed in the forest. Wren went to the castle and came back with the news that Drevis was in Monash Hollow, at the festival.”
“Indeed,” said Rundel. “And there, the Hamelyn Piper had constructed his terrible Obsidiac Organ, and you were able to protect yourself from its effects by wearing the Iron Mask, turned inside out. Very clever, by the way.”
“Thank you,” said Patch. “The Hamelyn Piper said the same.”
Rundel paused, clearly not appreciating the comment. “Events progressed, the Organ was destroyed, and the evil Hamelyn Piper defeated, at least for now. That much we know. But suppose you had not pushed Erner into that lake. What then?”
Patch frowned, not liking where this was leading. “What do you mean?”
“If Erner had still been with you, surely he could have been trusted to take a message to Lord Drevis? Then you wouldn’t have placed yourself at such risk. Erner would have insisted on that, there’s no doubt.”
“Maybe,” said Patch.
“In fact, you wouldn’t have had to return to Tiviscan at all,” said Rundel. “You, the only one with the Iron Mask to protect yourself. Without you there, events would have progressed very differently indeed! The Hamelyn Piper would surely have triumphed! And think of the courage you showed! Would you have had that courage, without the guilt you felt for what you did to Erner?”
Patch didn’t say a word or move a muscle. He could feel a little nugget of anger building deep within him.
“Do you understand me?” said Rundel. “You betrayed Erner. You betrayed a friend. But if you hadn’t? Disaster would have befallen us! The Hamelyn Piper would have won! So, why should you feel any guilt now? Instead, you should be proud! Your decision to push Erner into the lake was necessary. Your decision led to saving the whole world!” Rundel Stone smiled, he actually smiled.
Patch stared in disbelief. He couldn’t recall ever being quite as angry as he felt right now, like a kettle left on the fire until the scalding water started to slop out of the top. “I betrayed my friend!” he said, his voice almost trembling with the rage he felt. “I was scared, and I was panicking, and if I’d thought about it for even a second more I very much hope I wouldn’t have pushed him into the water!” He squirmed in his chair, trying not to let his voice build into a shout. Never in his life could he have imagined talking like this to a Custodian Piper,
let alone Rundel Stone himself. “Let me tell you, Virtus,” he said. “Just because things worked out, doesn’t mean what I did was right! You make a decision with what you know at the time, nothing else! Doing the right thing doesn’t depend on the toss of a coin or the roll of a dice!” He stood from his chair and pointed at the Virtus Piper, jabbing his finger at him as he spoke. “A stupid decision isn’t suddenly good because of some lucky outcome! And a courageous choice isn’t made wrong because luck turned against you! And…and…” Patch’s anger was overwhelming, making it hard to find the words. “And the betrayal of a friend is not something to be proud of, Rundel Stone. Even if it did lead to saving the whole world!”
Rundel said nothing. One eyebrow was raised, but his expression was unreadable.
Patch gradually caught his breath, and then noticed he was still pointing an accusing finger. He lowered his hand and sat back down, shaking.
Rundel Stone, at last, nodded. “And that is the correct answer,” he said. The look on his face was an odd one, thought Patch, and not something he’d ever seen on the Virtus Piper’s face before – certainly not while that face was looking right at Patch’s own.
It was… Well, it was almost approving.
“Now,” said Rundel. “I would ask that you return to the others. I shall join you shortly.”
“Yes, Virtus,” said Patch. As he was about to close the door behind him, Rundel spoke again.
“And Patch? The betrayal wasn’t what saved the world. Nor was it luck. It was courage, and friendship, that won the day. Never forget that.”
Patch went downstairs in a state of bewilderment. In part, it was because of how Rundel Stone had looked at him, but the main reason was that he’d called him by his first name.
Not Brightwater. Not boy.
He’d called him Patch, and it would take him a while to get his head around that.
The others had left the dining room, and were now seated in front of the enormous hearth in the entrance hall, under the de Frenn family portrait. Barver was lying on the floor, with Wren sitting on top of his head. They looked up at Patch warily.
“Virtus Stone will be down in a moment,” said Patch. Wren squeaked at him, and he reached his arm out so she could scamper up to his shoulder.
We couldn’t make out what he said, she signed. Are you okay? He seemed to raise his voice an awful lot!
“I’m fine,” said Patch. For some reason he was reluctant to explain that he had been the one raising his voice.
It wasn’t long before Rundel made his way downstairs, each step taken with immense care. He walked over to a closed door under the stairway. “This is the library, where Ural Casimir met his end,” he said. “Come and look, please.”
They gathered in front of the door as Rundel opened it.
The room was circular, about thirty feet across, and shelves covered every part of the curving walls. A desk was in the middle of the room, alongside two plush reading chairs. It was carpeted, and on the floor beside the desk was a very obvious bloodstain, browned with the passing weeks.
The most startling thing was this: the shelves were empty, while the books were in a heap in one half of the room. Each book was damaged – torn in half, or the cover ripped away from the spine.
From the titles Patch could make out, the books all seemed curiously ordinary. Adventure novels, classic myths and legends, poetry and plays. He presumed all the ones on magic were out of sight at the bottom of the pile.
“When I came here with Erner, this is as we discovered it,” said Rundel. “Ural’s body lay there, where the Raqans had found him. When I finally woke from my poisoned sleep and returned with Tobias, we met with the Raqans. They’d remembered something important. Several months before his death, Ural had received a rare and unusual book, after years of trying to find a copy. The Raqans thought nothing more about it until the days after his death. But Ural’s killer had clearly been searching for a book, so could this ‘rare and unusual’ one be what the killer was seeking? Finding that book is the first step in finding the murderer!”
“Whoever killed Ural, the timing is suspicious,” said Alia. “Days before the Hamelyn Piper intends to use the Obsidiac Organ, and Ural Casimir is murdered? I tested the box that poisoned you, Rundel. Only myself and Tobias made it react. What if it was designed to poison the Eight? What if the murderer knew who Ural was, and that was why they killed him?”
Rundel shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “For a start, Ural was bludgeoned from behind. Why do that, if the box would simply poison him? But I do agree with you about the suspicious timing. My instinct tells me that Ural’s murder was linked to the plans of the Hamelyn Piper, which means the book is linked. Find the book that his murderer sought, and it may do more than lead us to the killer – it could even bring us closer to the Hamelyn Piper himself!”
Patch gestured to the pile on the floor of the library. “But they must have found it,” he said. “They went through every single book!”
“Say that again!” said Rundel.
“They went through every single book, so…”
“Yes!” said Rundel. “Every single book! Think about that! If you’re looking for something, and you find it, what do you do?”
Patch was lost for an answer.
“You stop looking!” said Rundel. “Every book has been taken and discarded. If they’d found what they sought, they would have stopped! There would still be books on the shelves. Therefore they did not find it!”
“What about the rest of the house?” said Barver. “Perhaps it was hidden elsewhere, but they discovered it?”
Rundel smiled. “If this book was important to Ural, there is only one place it could be. And that place is not in the house. Perhaps you could fetch a lantern, Tobias? We must go to the Remembrance Lawn!”
Alia and Tobias smiled and nodded. “It’s about time!” said Tobias.
Barver, Patch and Wren looked at each other in bemusement.
Rundel and Tobias led the way outside, following a gravel path around the mansion. It seemed strange to Patch that Tobias had been told to bring a lantern – it would be hours yet before darkness fell. They emerged at the rear of the house, in a well-tended garden area which had a grey stone building at the far side.
As they walked across the grass towards the building, Barver suddenly stopped in his tracks. He was at the back of the line, and Wren, holding fast to Patch’s shoulder as usual, was the only one who noticed. She prodded Patch’s neck.
Something’s up, she signed to Patch, then pointed at Barver.
Patch walked back to his large friend, who was staring around nervously. The others were almost at the stone building.
“What’s the matter?” Patch asked him.
“What did Rundel Stone call this place?” whispered Barver, looking like he expected some kind of ambush.
“The Remembrance Lawn,” said Patch.
Barver glared at him. “Exactly! Have you seen? Have you seen?” He pointed around rapidly, and Patch noticed small rectangles of stone laid into the grass around the edges of the garden.
Leaving Barver where he was, Patch strode to the nearest stone rectangle. There were words carved into it, and he read aloud: “Larsian, Faithful Hound and Companion.” He moved to the next: “Brandywine, Expert Mouser, Much Missed.” He looked at Wren. “It’s a pet graveyard,” he said, but Wren shook her head, pointing at the next stone.
Not just pets, she signed.
Patch read it out: “Enniver Watts, Gardener, Who Wished To Be Buried With His Work.”
“This is a graveyard!” hissed Barver right into Patch’s ear, making him jump.
“Don’t sneak up like that!” said Patch.
Barver’s eyes darted around in near-terror. “We’re in a graveyard!” he said. “With graves! Graves!”
“You really are easily spooked, Barver,” said Patch. They made their way to the stone building to join the others, but when they reached it Barver’s look of
dread seemed to worsen.
Patch could see why. The building was ornately decorated, and had the name “de Frenn” carved in large letters above the wide doors.
It was a crypt.
Barver did not look at all happy. “Why are we in a graveyard?” he said. “Beside a crypt?”
Rundel unlocked the crypt doors with a large key. They swung open, the horrible creaking from the hinges not helping Barver’s nerves one bit.
Around the sides of the crypt were three sealed coffins, one visibly newer than the others; in the centre was a large sarcophagus, on the top of which was a stone figure of an armour-clad man, clutching a broadsword to his chest.
“Get inside the crypt, please,” said Rundel. “All of you.”
“I am not going in there,” muttered Barver.
“Oh, don’t be daft,” said Patch. “Of course you’re not going inside. You’re far too big.”
“I said all of you, and I meant it,” said Rundel. He gestured to Barver, who managed – barely – to squeeze his wings inside the doorway and stand by the wall, absolutely still in case he knocked one of the coffins.
Patch shared another look with Wren, both of them baffled. With Barver inside there was hardly any room to breathe, let alone move. Worse was to come: Rundel reached out to the doors and closed them.
“If you would, Tobias,” said Rundel, and Tobias held his lantern aloft. Rundel started to examine the stone knight, pushing and prodding at various parts of it. There was a gentle click, and the hilt of the carved sword opened, revealing a circular recess. Rundel pushed the centre of the circle. There was another click, and he stood back, satisfied. But nothing else happened.
“It will take a few moments,” said Rundel. “A little history while we wait! The de Frenn fortune came from the mining of tin and other metals. This mansion was built three hundred years ago, on the site of one of their mines, long emptied of all it had to offer. The entrance to the mine was hidden, and within the deep caverns the owners could hoard their precious gold and jewels. The most recent owner hoarded a different kind of wealth. He also added a layer of magical protection, which takes a little time to work. This gateway will only open to those Ural would have trusted. Those of good heart, courage and honour.” He looked at Patch and raised an eyebrow. “Let’s see what the protective spells make of you all…”
A Vanishing of Griffins Page 8