by Vashti Hardy
“I trust you had a good rest, Queen Adelaide?” Lavender asked.
“One did,” the cat said.
Prue couldn’t help but let out a snigger. Queen Adelaide?
The cat glared at her.
“This is Frances, Agapantha and Cora – new apprentices,” said Lavender.
Queen Adelaide gave a nod.
Lavender instructed them to fill their plates as high as they liked, and Prue jumped at the chance, feeling famished from the journey and events of the day.
Cora proceeded to tell everyone all about her many talents in design, invention, mathematics, precision mechanics, how she had travelled far and wide – Prue thought it impossible that one person could really have done so much.
Lavender, who was sitting the other side of Prue, leant across and whispered. “Adelaide thinks she was a queen in her past life. Poor dear, we think there may have been a problem with her harnessing, addling her mind a bit. But she’s harmless, really, and it’s a bit of fun for the house. She was brought back as a companion a year ago but proved too demanding for the home she was assigned to.”
“Like a pet?” Prue whispered.
“Dear no, don’t let the personifates hear you say that. The term companion is much more acceptable.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“And you’re Larkin’s sister?” said Queen Adelaide to Cora. “Also, apparently a multi-talented apprentice. I daresay you will both be in the gold of a craftsman in record time.”
“Why don’t you tell Queen Adelaide about yourself, Agapantha?” said Lavender, looking across at her, but Agapantha’s face turned red and she pushed a piece of carrot around her plate. “Come on, dear, we’re all the best of friends here. No need to be shy.”
Prue took the opportunity to pile her plate with more buttery potatoes.
Agapantha spoke quietly. “My parents are from Medlock originally, but we moved to Gawthorpe. They tech-travel all over the world and they were at a meeting in Medlock when they met Master White, and they got talking about me. Master White visited me in Gawthorpe and the next thing I knew, here I am.”
“And your parents don’t mind leaving you here while they travel?”
“No, they’re just happy for the opportunity for me.”
“It’s not the same for those apprentices with family in Medlock who can pop back on a weekend.” Lavender gave Agapantha a little pat on her arm. “You and Frances are a long way from home.”
Prue thought of how she’d left her parents so suddenly – and hardened her heart.
“Where are you from?” Queen Adelaide said, turning to Prue.
“I’m from a farm north of Medlock.”
Queen Adelaide looked Prue up and down. “A farm girl as an Imperial Personifate Guild Apprentice?” She blinked several times in quick succession.
Cora smiled snidely.
“Don’t be such a snob, Queen Adelaide!” said Liddy as she walked into the room. She sat down next to Agapantha. “I’ve swapped the beds between rooms and put your cases on the beds. It was completely random, so the bed your case landed on is the bed you’ll get.”
Shortly, a boy walked in quite as though he owned the place, chin high, and firm strides. His hair was dark at the sides and roots, with bright blonde spikes, his eyebrows dark as night – the same as Cora.
“Heard you were here,” he said, nodding at Cora.
“Larkin has scored one hundred percent in all the tasks he’s ever been given,” Queen Adelaide said proudly.
“That’s impressive,” said Prue, trying her best to sound like it really was, when actually her initial thought of Larkin was that he seemed a bit stuck-up, like his sister.
Larkin turned to Prue and Agapantha. “I’m with Master Sollentude. If you ever need expert advice you should come to me.” And with that, Larkin left.
“There must be so many masters and craftsmen, but does anyone apprentice for Master Woolstenbury?” Prue said quietly to Lavender.
“Oh, Master Woolstenbury doesn’t take on apprentices, dearie. She’s far too busy.”
Once the apprentices had finished, Liddy showed them upstairs. Their bedroom was on the fourth floor at the very top of the house. It had dark wood-panelled walls and three beds with posts. There was an enormous tapestry on the wall depicting a forest with woodland animals including rabbits and squirrels, but some unrecognizable creatures too, like fairy-tale pixies.
“Here we are. The bed by the tapestry is bigger, but as I said, the first case to land there is the lucky recipient.”
It was Agapantha’s case. Prue’s bed was by the window with Cora’s beside her. They were small beds, but she didn’t care.
“The washroom is on the third floor. Just shout if you need anything. Breakfast is laid out from seven until nine, so come down when you like. I’ll leave you to it.”
Cora commandeered the wardrobe, insisting she needed to hang everything in her suitcase and it needed space to breathe, so Agapantha and Prue decided to share the chest of drawers.
“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Prue said, starting to unpack her few possessions.
Agapantha nodded.
“Do you miss home?”
“A little,” said Agapantha.
“Me too, but it’s just so thrilling to be here, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Agapantha said.
Prue noticed that Agapantha didn’t make eye contact very often, preferring to look at an invisible point about forty-five degrees towards the floor.
Prue carefully kept the photograph of Francis hidden by folding it inside her jumper in the drawer. She allowed herself a quick peek when she was sure the others weren’t looking.
Prue shut the drawer. “I still find it amazing that Queen Adelaide, or Finblewick, or any other of the personifates we’ve seen today, aren’t real. Well, they’re real, but you know what I mean? How do you think they actually work?”
“I expect we’ll find out soon,” said Agapantha.
Cora cleared her throat loudly. She was sitting on her bed smiling.
Prue sat down on her own bed facing her. “Come on, spit it out.”
Agapantha sat on the end of Prue’s bed.
“I can’t possibly tell you. Larkin swore me to secrecy.”
“Oh, that’s a pity,” said Prue. She turned away and rested back on her pillows.
There was a slight pause, then Cora said, “Well, if you insist.” She leant in towards them. “He told me that it’s all down to a material called qwortzite.”
Prue let the word run through her mind: qwortzite – she’d never heard of such a substance, but it sounded almost magical.
“It’s incredibly rare and hugely valuable – only the wealthiest families in Medlock can afford it, so I’m afraid you’d stand no chance to buy it, Frances.”
Prue scowled at Cora but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Not that it’s available to buy freely, anyway,” said Cora.
“What does the qwortzite actually do?” Prue asked.
Cora widened her already moon-like eyes. “It can hold the soul of a spirit.”
“How does it do it?” Prue persisted.
“I think I’ve told you more than enough.”
“Oh, you mean you don’t know,” Prue said.
“No, I just don’t want to say,” Cora said haughtily.
Prue noticed a small grin on the edge of Agapantha’s lips.
They changed into their night clothes and Prue went to the window. It was now dark, and stars specked the sky. As she looked at the ash-grey twists of chimney smoke, spires and rooftops of the city reflecting the ivory light of the three-quarter moon as far as the eye could see, she thought of how much Francis would have loved it here. The summer before the illness, they’d snuck out late one evening and climbed Haywood’s Oak. It had been a three-quarter moon that day too, and they stood in the uppermost branches looking over the pearl-brushed fields under a cloudless sky. If she closed her eyes, she could still see it
just as it was.
“Look, sis, it’s the lights of Medlock.”
“Where, Francis? I can’t see them.”
“There – just within reach.” He held his hand out and grabbed the air.
Prue laughed and copied him. “I’ve got them too.”
“One day, sis, we’ll go to the big city, and we’ll show them what we can do.”
Francis would have jumped at the chance of going with Craftsman Primrose. He should be here. Prue tried to close the chasm opening in her chest again. It felt as though she was plunging off the edge of a precipice, being dragged in.
She pulled the curtain shut.
As she climbed into bed, she focused on the thought that she would soon be at the Guild – the place where she could find a way back to her brother.
If she didn’t get found out as an imposter first.
THE IMPERIAL PERSONIFATE GUILD OF MEDLOCK
Prue, Agapantha and Cora arrived promptly for breakfast at seven the next morning. A couple of apprentices also came down early: Sira, who had long, shiny black hair and was sixteen, about to be made a craftsman; and Wil, a second-year apprentice who told them about all the best books to read first.
After breakfast, Craftsman Primrose was waiting for them in the hallway.
He observed them through his thin-rimmed glasses then looked at his pocket-watch. “Right on time. Don’t worry, you two, Masters White and Sollentude will meet us later. We’re a little ahead of the other apprentices today, as I thought it would be nice to avoid the morning rush on your first day. Now, if you could sign the papers laid out for you on the table.”
They approached the table where three forms titled Secrecy Statement were placed, the Guild Symbol stamped in silver in the corner. Prue started reading it:
I hereby declare that anything I see within the walls of the Guild from this day forwards until such time as my first life comes to an end, will remain secret and not be passed beyond those walls.
It seemed straightforward enough. Prue picked up a pen and began signing.
Like a bolt of lightning to her chest, she realized she’d started writing Prue. Craftsman Primrose was standing not far away, while Agapantha and Cora were busy signing their own names. Quickly, Prue tried to turn the P into an F. She looked at the signature and decided it was passable, if a little scruffy.
“All finished?” Craftsman Primrose asked. “Excellent. Follow me.”
Prue had no idea where they were going or what to expect, and excited butterflies were dancing inside her. This was what she had come here for – the Guild was her way back to Francis; it was really happening!
Craftsman Primrose came to a stop by a stretch of wall covered in paintings, then pulled one edge of a small picture of a mouse back, revealing a keyhole behind.
“Something about secrets being quiet as mice,” he said.
He took a key from around his neck – it was silver with the end shaped into the symbol of the Guild. With a soft click, a hidden doorway in the wall paneling opened and there was a rush of air. The apprentices looked at each other in wonder.
“Exciting, isn’t it?” said Craftsman Primrose. He pulled three keys on chains from his bag and passed them one each.
They followed him down a dimly lit spiral staircase. The curved brick walls had chaos lamps set into recesses that gave off a warm glow. At the bottom, rather than finding themselves in a basement room, the space opened up and they found themselves on a platform in an underground tunnel. Around the height of two people, the tunnel’s arched brickwork was illuminated by many flickering chaos lamps, and it was warm and smelt earthy. Beside them, running the length of the tunnel, was a metal tube that half-filled the space.
“This is your daily transport – the pneumerator!” said Craftsman Primrose proudly. “Developed by the masters using the old Medlock sewage system.”
“Gross,” said Cora.
“No, perfectly spotless, and it’ll get us to the Guild in under a minute. Of course, you can walk above ground if you’d prefer, but that’d take you around an hour, and you’d have to pass through security at the outer gate,” said Craftsman Primrose. “There’s a pneumatic station at the other end of this tunnel, and it works to either push or pull us. It’s a wonderful invention.”
Prue marvelled at the sound of it, and instantly imagined one back home to get you from the far field back to the farmhouse.
“Now, if the pod is at this end, the lever on this control panel will be up; if it’s at the other it’ll be down.” He pulled the lever up. “It can get rather busy at peak times, which is why I’ve brought you along early.”
In hardly any time at all, there was a whooshing sound and the glass panel in the tube illuminated.
“It has a built-in braking system. It used to be manual, but it was … problematic. Come along, everyone!” Craftsman Primrose reached for a handle and slid open a door in the tube. One by one, they stepped inside the pod, which was just big enough to stand up in with dozens of red leather seats facing forward.
“You can sit with me, Agapantha,” said Cora, grabbing her arm.
Prue didn’t mind sitting with Craftsman Primrose; at least she would be able to ask him questions.
“This silver lever is to close the pod. Then, in about five seconds, we’re off.”
After a moment, the pod shot forward, pinning them to their seats. The trajectory was straight at first, then the whole pod seemed to rotate to the side and tilt, rolling this way and that as they navigated the tunnel.
“How does it work?” Prue asked.
“It’s all about air pressure. We pull air from one end, creating a vacuum that propels the pod between each terminus. There’s a slight rise soon.”
The pod abruptly tilted upwards and slowed as they hit the uphill section.
“We’re out of the old sewer tunnels now and into the purpose-built uphill section. It’s all automated, no intervention needed,” said Craftsman Primrose as the pod came to a sudden standstill. He pulled the lever and they stepped out into a large metallic room. They followed Craftsman Primrose towards the doorway.
He paused, his hand grasping the handle. He smiled. “Now, a true welcome to the Imperial Personifate Guild of Medlock – the factorium!”
They stepped through the door into the fresh air of outside. They had been in a hut of some sort, but before them was a great lawn leading like an emerald carpet to an enormous building. Prue couldn’t speak because her breath had completely been taken away by the size and magnificence of the factorium before her. It rose proudly from the ground, something like a chaos factorium but much more stylish and grand: warm clay brickwork; row upon row of neat, gleaming windows; pipes running in orderly patterns from the main building to enormous cylinder-shaped sub-buildings; huge, polished steel chimneys that seemed to almost reach the clouds; and a fountain, the likes of which would usually be seen at a fancy country home, shimmering in the morning sun. Prue could feel there was something about this whole place, a prickle in the air, like the expectation of lightning – everything was alert. Prue had so many questions bursting inside of her, she couldn’t wait to get started.
“It’s magnificent,” Prue whispered, looking up at the white smoke chugging into the sky.
“That exhaust you see is not harmful in any way. We do it to keep up the illusion that this is just another Medlock factorium, but really it’s perfectly safe artificial vapour,” said Craftsman Primrose. “Come on, I wanted to show you all a little of the grounds before everyone else arrives.”
A central pathway led from the main factorium building to great gates; the transport hut they’d arrived in was about halfway along.
Craftsman Primrose walked them up the long path to what he called the “official entrance”. He used the same key he’d used back at the house to activate the huge gates to the outside where there was a big sign that stated “Medlock & Co Chaos Production”.
Craftsman Primrose tapped his nose. “Our little cover story.
”
Beside the gate, on the factorium side, was a small building like a tiny brick house with one door and windows on all aspects. A girl in regular trousers and jumper came to the door when she saw them.
“Good morning, Grace. All quiet this morning?” said Craftsman Primrose.
“Yes, Craftsman Primrose. New apprentices?” she said looking at the girls and smiling.
“Indeed – I’m just showing them around.” He turned to Prue, Agapantha and Cora. “We like to keep someone on security duty out here, either personifate or a plain-clothed older apprentice.
There were a few large buildings some distance away, other factoria, but the Guild factorium was in quite a secluded position nestled on an arm of land with forest arcing around them. Prue guessed they were on the furthest outskirts of Medlock.
“What happens if strangers stumble upon it?” Prue asked.
“Master Woolstenbury likes to keep everything as secret as possible, although it’s not easy. Usually people just walk on past without a thought, or whoever is on duty will ensure people move on. Many of the factoria in Medlock employ personifates, so it’s not unusual to see them in such places. The biggest threat comes from other cities that would dearly love to get their hands on our technology. The perimeter fence helps, of course, but it only goes as far as the forest.” Craftsman Primrose pointed to a tall, narrow building close to the main factorium. “Our messenger tower over there doubles as a look-out. There are personifates on duty twenty-four hours – not needing to sleep certainly has its advantages. Plus, our personifate guards keep an eye on the surrounding forest, although it spreads back for twenty miles south, so it’s unlikely we’d find anyone spying on us from in there!”
A rabbit hopped across the road before them.
“Morning!” Prue called brightly.
It froze and stared at them, startled for a moment, then took flight into the bushes.
“What was the matter with her? Or him.”
“I do believe it was a just a wild rabbit, Frances,” said Craftsman Primrose.
Cora burst out laughing. Agapantha turned red on Prue’s behalf.