by Peter Oxley
Morley stepped forwards. “I should advise you that I have nigh-on 50 well-armed men outside. And if I were to let it be known that you were harbouring not only a demon but the hated Andras in here then, well, you will find that pretty much the whole of the local populace would join us in beating down your door and tossing you on a bonfire. Ask yourself, Captain: do you wish to sacrifice not only your job and your reputation but also your mens’ lives? All for the sake of this… fiend?”
Pearce glared at him for a few more seconds and then stepped aside. “Hand him over,” he said to his men.
It felt wrong. We were giving Morley exactly what he wanted, and didn’t understand anything about his plans or who he was working for. I opened my mouth to speak but felt something in my head, almost like a comforting hand telling me to stand down. I turned and looked at Andras and he gave me a small nod. Let it go, the feeling in my head said. Use this distraction. I blinked; maybe there really was more of N’yotsu in there than he was letting on.
Morley gestured to two of his men, who stepped round carrying what looked like blunderbusses with some form of blunted grappling hooks wedged in the muzzles. Andras held out his hands. “Don’t worry lads, I’ll come quietly.”
Morley nodded and the two men fired their weapons. I flinched, expecting the loud bang of gunfire to echo round the room, but instead there was a slight fizzle as the grappling hooks flew out, embedding themselves in Andras’ sides. The demon immediately fell to his knees, his face screwed up in soundless agony. “I know you will come quietly,” said Morley. “And this will make sure that you do.” He turned to his men. “Get the creature up and into the wagon.”
“What is that?” I asked, watching as Andras was bundled to his feet, no more than a helpless shaking invalid.
“A new weapon we’ve been saving for just this type of occasion,” said Morley smugly.
“How’d you get it?”
“It was developed by our finest scientists.”
I frowned at him. “I’ve spent the past three years with the only person in the world who could’ve made something like that, and I’ve never seen its kind before. There are no other geniuses out there who make weapons like this: I’d know. At least, none that are human…”
I thought I saw a flicker of doubt in Morley’s eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Really, Miss Thatcher, do you truly believe that you are the conduit for all knowledge in the Empire?” He held out his hand to me. “We would like you to accompany us as well, please.”
“Me? Where?”
“Back with me for questioning. I trust I will not have to use force?”
I saw Pearce bristle at this, but I put a hand out to tell him to hold back; I didn’t need him wading in and making things worse just yet. “Questioning? About what?”
“Your associations with the demon Andras, for one thing. I need to be sure that I have all of the facts.”
“Under whose authority are you planning to try to take her?” asked Pearce.
“My own, conferred upon me by Her Majesty the Queen. I am Witchfinder General after all, and this type of matter falls directly within my jurisdiction.”
“I cannot allow you to take her,” said Pearce hesitantly.
Morley cocked an eyebrow at him. “You do realise that if you interfere with my duties then you are effectively committing a criminal offence? Not to mention mutiny against your sovereign, which I believe is classified as high treason? And did not the Prime Minister directly order you to assist me?”
Pearce seemed to collapse inside. “I will come with you as well.”
“You will stay here at 24 Whitehall and keep the Bradshaw children under guard in Mr Potts’ laboratory. After all, they are still important to the cause, and there are dangerous demons about.”
Pearce took a deep breath, fists clenched, and I could see he was about to do something he’d regret. “It’s all right Albert,” I said. “I can handle myself. I’ll be back in no time. You’re more use out here than being locked up with me. Remember the Prime Minister’s orders,” I said this last bit as pointedly as I could, hoping the sense of my words got through to him in spite of his agitation.
Pearce glared at Morley. “If you harm so much as one hair on her head…”
Morley nodded without waiting for him to finish. “Very good. Now, Miss Thatcher, if you don’t mind?”
I shared a nod with Pearce and then started to walk out with Morley. “You do realise that you’re playing into the demons’ hands here?” I asked him. “While we’re busy talking, they could be ending the world.”
“Then all the more reason for us to get back so that you can tell me everything you know.”
Chapter 20
I sat in the carriage as far away from Morley as I could, refusing to give him even a glance as we rattled our way through the traffic round Trafalgar Square and then on up the Strand. I looked out at the buildings as we passed, the grand hotels and taverns, wondering if this was the last time I’d see them. People on the streets went about their business, some stopping to curse and glare at our horses and coaches as we forced them to squeeze to the sides of the road, blissfully unaware of who was inside and the threats they posed to their ordinary little lives.
A sudden shaft of sunlight glanced off a window and made me shield my eyes. By the side of the road, a man with a pail of water stepped back from a window to admire his handiwork. A pair of Peelers wandered past and I wondered whether I should try shouting out for help, pull open the door and throw myself on them. But then I remembered that Morley was one of them, and they’d like as not just hand me back to him. At least if I was going with Morley without kicking up a fuss then hopefully he’d treat me right in return.
Going along for the ride also meant that I could find out where he was taking Andras. The demon had been a helpless shell in those strange hook restraints, offering no resistance at all as they’d bundled him into the carriage behind ours. Again I wondered about the technology they’d used in controlling him: where did they get it from? The more I thought about it, the more it made sense—the Queen and who knew how many others must be being controlled by some sort of demon, and right now Morley was helping them by making sure we couldn’t get in the way of their plans.
I forced myself to turn and look at him. “You never said where them restraints came from,” I said.
“No, I didn’t,” he replied, staring at a wad of papers on his lap.
“You’ve got to admit, it’s a bit odd that you’ve suddenly found a way to control demons, ain’t it?”
“It is a useful tool that will greatly aid us in our struggle to regain control of our world. I tend to make it a habit not to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Getting on four years now we’ve been fighting demons,” I said. “Me, Max, Gus and N’yotsu. Four years, two of them with full access to everything the British Empire has to offer, and all we came up with was the pistols and swords Max and N’yotsu made. Then you bowl in with these strange manacles that suddenly turn a big scary demon like Andras into a gibbering wreck.”
“Clearly you and your friends were not as talented or as diligent as you were made out to be. Or maybe you were not privy to all of the devices that Mr Potts has created.”
“I was with Max day and night. I knew everything,” I said fiercely. How dare he suggest I was kept out of things?
Morley looked up at me. “Everything? Really? So tell me: where is Mr Augustus Potts right now?”
I blushed and looked away, angry with myself for letting my guard down so quickly. I remembered what Gus had said about the Witchfinders back in the day, what they’d do with a few careless words here or there. I had to be careful with what I said, as people like Morley would look for any chance to twist my words and use them to incriminate my friends.
Morley sighed. “Miss Thatcher, you really should learn to trust me; we are both on the same side here.”
I snorted and folded my arms. “You keep saying that
, and the more you do the less I believe it.”
“How can I prove to you that my intentions really do align with yours?” he asked. “That we both want the same thing?”
“Let me go so I can get to St Albans and help fight the demons. Come with me and bring all your men and lynch mobs and strange tools; I reckon we’ll need all the bodies we can get. But do it now, before it’s too late.” The carriage jolted and there was a shout from outside, which reminded me about the other carriage in our little convoy. “And free Andras so he can help us as well.” This last bit came out of nowhere and for a moment I bit my lip. It made perfect sense though: if Morley wanted Andras locked away, and Morley was acting on the orders of the demons who wanted to take over the world, then the best thing to do was to set Andras loose. After all, we were running short of allies powerful enough to fight the demons.
Morley raised an eyebrow. “Let us say for one moment that I take leave of all my senses and do as you suggest. What is at St Albans?”
I thought for a moment; while I didn’t want to do anything to help this foul man, there was surely little damage in him knowing a bit of what we knew. “The end of the world. Max talked about a thing called the Fulcrum, where—”
“Yes, yes, I know all about that theory. I have read the papers.”
“How did you…?”
“I have authority in many things,” he said. “My employer allows me access to anything that might assist me in my work. But do continue.”
“Well… we reckon that the Fulcrum has an actual location where it’s going to emerge, and that’s in St Albans.”
“I thought it was supposed to be Nonsuch?”
“So did we. But when we went to Nonsuch there was nothing there.”
“Apart from the demons that attacked you.”
“Yes.” I frowned at him. “Why do I get the feeling you know everything already?”
He inclined his head. “Pray continue.”
“When Max disappeared, it was the papers about St Albans that went missing, and we’ve seen nothing convincing about Nonsuch. Lexie and Joshua have been doing their sums and they reckon it’s a definite that St Albans is where the Fulcrum’s going to be. Which is why we need to get there right now.”
“Why the urgency?”
I wanted to throttle him. “The demons are going to create another portal, right where the Fulcrum is, and they’re going to bring an army through to invade.”
“And you know this… how?”
“Andras—” I stopped myself but it was already too late.
“Because the demon said so,” said Morley with a smug grin on his face. “What else did he tell you? That I’m the enemy? That all your superiors are working against you to try to make this demon threat happen?”
I pursed my lips and kept my teeth clenched tight.
He put his papers onto the bench beside him. “Miss Thatcher, you of all people must realise that demons are not to be trusted. Particularly not the one we have in captivity back there. There is a very specific plan to save the world, and we all need to work together to achieve it.”
“What is it then?” I asked.
“Pardon?”
“What is this grand plan to save the world? You said we all need to work together, we’re all on the same side and I’ve been a part of a team at the centre of what the army and government have been trying to do all these years. So I’m wondering what this plan is and why I’ve not heard of it.”
Morley let out a short laugh. “It is I who is supposed to be questioning you, not the other way round. But… very well. The demons are a stain, a blot on our world. They corrupt and pervert all that they come into contact with. They spread fear and confusion, infiltrating families and tearing them apart.” I could see a real hatred in his eyes, which got bigger and bigger the more he spoke, lit up with righteousness. “Innocents are turned into hateful monsters at the behest of the demons, playthings of these creatures that think themselves gods. There is only one true God and He is the opposite of everything these creatures represent.” He glared at me and I reckoned I could see tears just behind those hard, cold eyes.
I hated the demons but what I saw in his eyes was something more than that. “What did they do to you?” I asked as softly as I could.
“What do you mean?”
“To make you hate them so much. This isn’t just a job for you, is it? They did something horrible to you. Or was it your family?”
For a moment I thought he was going to say something but then the shutters came down. “No more talking,” he said. “When we reach the Tower you will tell me exactly what you and Andras have been discussing.”
“The…?” I asked, and then looked out the window. While we’d been talking we’d made our way beyond St Paul’s and wound down past the brand new Cannon Street Station and onto East Cheap. The road curved round to the right and there, down at the bottom of Great Tower Street, I could see the dark walls of the Tower of London. My heart beat hard as I heard my Pa’s barking voice: “You behave, girl, or I’ll take you off to the Tower. You know what they do to people in there?”
I looked back at Morley. “Why are we going there?”
“Why, did you not know?” he asked. “It is my base of operations when I am working out of London. A very useful location, and full of everything I need.”
I looked away so he couldn’t see the fear I felt as I remembered Gus’ talk of the confessions that the old Witchfinders forced out of people through torture. Of all places, it just had to be the Tower, didn’t it?
Chapter 21
Our carriage was waved through the big dark wooden gates by a pair of soldiers who didn’t give me a second glance. Time was, they’d have saluted me; had things really gone downhill so quickly?
We clattered over the drawbridge, through the next set of gates and over the cobblestones running along the inner wall. We stopped and the carriage doors were wrenched open by two men dressed in dark clothes just like Morley, who grabbed me and pulled me out. I struggled against them but they held me firm. “Hey,” I said, “I’ve come here by my own choice!”
“Indeed you have,” said Morley. “That is why you are not in chains. But even so, you will forgive us if we take some precautions, given the severity of the situation.”
As my feet hit the ground I looked up to see a stone archway in front of me, dipping into the river on either side, a thick gate shut firm below it. Traitors’ Gate. The nightmares came flooding back once more as I stared at it, wondering if this was an omen. Thankfully, I was pulled away before I could dwell on it any further.
I watched as the door to the other carriage was pulled open and the helpless lump of Andras was half-dragged, half-carried out. He was thrown to the ground and then picked up by the shoulders and hauled through an archway ahead of me, heels digging shallow furrows in the mire.
We went through the arch and up the stairs beyond and as we passed I noticed how the soldiers standing guard did anything to avoid eye contact with me. Rather than turning right towards the White Tower, we were dragged round to the left and towards a grey stone building that looked like the White Tower’s little brother, dumped in the middle of a load of brown stone and timbered houses. We passed a small green in front of a chapel and Morley leered at me. “Do you know what that is?” he asked. I refused to give him the satisfaction of replying but he continued anyway. “That is where they used to execute the traitors held prisoner here. And this is where you’re going to stay.” He pointed at the building in front of us.
I was practically thrown down a flight of stairs and into the grey stone building while Andras was pushed and pulled through a small doorway to the left. I could see a narrow spiral staircase beyond before the door was slammed shut and bolted behind his escort.
“Wait here please,” said Morley behind me as the door to the outside was slammed shut, leaving me alone in the room.
“Like I have a choice,” I muttered as I heard the ominous clank-scrape of a ke
y turning in the lock.
I turned and looked around the room, which was lit by flickering torches. It was roughly curved on the sides directly opposite the main door, with archways picked out at regular intervals containing narrow slit windows. A large fireplace stood to the left of the arches, filled with wood but unlit. To the left of the door I had entered through was a stained-glass window, like you’d see in a cathedral or stately home. I looked out to see two of Morley’s men standing guard, their backs to me.
I turned back to continue examining the room. The remaining wall to the left of the window was straight and covered in hooks, bolts and nails. I saw something dark lying against it and went over to get a closer look, flinching when I saw it was a pair of leather manacles hanging about seven feet off the ground.
The flickering torches and the faint light from the windows showed that the walls were covered in rough etchings, words and simple inscriptions that looked to have been done by many different people over a long period of time. With a sinking heart I realised that they must have been left by the poor souls who had been locked away in this room over the centuries, with nothing else to do but try to leave their mark on a world that had turned its back on them.
In the middle of the room was a long table, a solid wooden bench with straps set in it. Next to it was another table covered by a cloth. I walked over and slowly pulled back a corner of the stained material to see a few pairs of pincers, and then a dozen wicked-looking knives and various other implements that made me shudder just to look at them. I picked up a small but razor-sharp knife that looked big enough to do some damage but small enough to hide in a fold of my dress. I arranged the other knives on the table so it wasn’t obvious there was a gap and then pulled the cloth back over them. That’ll teach them to leave me in a room with weapons in it, I thought with a mirthless grin.
I wanted someone to come in at that moment so I could keep myself occupied with action, but there was no sound from outside the room so I busied myself with learning the feel of the weapon, swiping it to and fro in the air a few times and then secreting it in the waistband of my dress, the space where Morley had taken my pistol from. I practised whipping it out a few times and then, happy I’d got the action down pat as well as I could, wandered round the room, straining my ears for any sort of sound from beyond the locked door.