by Vashti Hardy
“You know I love you, Prue, but it’ll take me time to get used to all this change,” Mrs Haywood said, glancing across at Edwin.
“I can’t believe that thing was prowling in our fields! I told you I thought I heard something strange the other day,” said Mr Haywood, nudging Mrs Haywood.
“I’m just glad you’re all right,” said Mrs Haywood. “Both of you.” She nodded at Edwin.
“Sometimes, you’ve just got to do the next brave thing,” said Prue, but really she was thinking of what she’d had to do to Francis back at the Guild. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to tell her parents.
Edwin looked at her. “Prue is one of the bravest people I know.”
“Well, it’s incredibly late. You both need to rest after all this travel and excitement!” said Mrs Haywood.
She took Prue upstairs and Mr Haywood insisted on making Edwin a bed in the hay shed by piling blankets all around.
Mrs Haywood kissed her on the head. “I’m sorry, about everything. About what happened to Francis, about not saying goodbye when you visited, about—”
“Mum, Francis wasn’t your fault.”
Mrs Haywood closed her eyes. “I still miss him so much.”
“We all do,” Prue said. They hugged and cried in silence for a while.
Eventually, Mrs Haywood pulled Prue’s blanket over her.
“Like I say, all this change and technology, it might take me a while.”
“I’m sorry. I know you hoped I would take over the farm, with Francis gone and everything.’
“We only ever want what makes you happy, Prue. Always know that.”
Prue closed her eyes and let the events of the day roll through her mind until deep and restful sleep engulfed her in its warm arms.
NEW BEGINNINGS
Snow had fallen more heavily in the early part of the morning, completely covering the body of the stag-man so that only a large white antlered mound remained.
Prue dressed hurriedly and ran down to find Edwin in the shed.
“Ed, are you all right?”
He nodded, although Prue sensed something in him was reluctant.
“Are you injured?” she asked.
“I don’t think so.”
Prue sat beside him. “I’ve just realized that we no longer have a mentor. Are we even part of the Guild any more?”
“Of course … I’m certain we are.”
But Prue wasn’t so sure. “Are you really feeling all right?”
“I feel a little strange. But that’s only natural … after the night we had, right?”
Prue didn’t like the way he faltered in his words. It reminded her of Luella.
“Are you ready to go back?” he said.
Prue nodded. “I still have so many questions about Craftsman Primrose and what happened. If I’m thrown out of the Guild, I’d like to go knowing the whole truth. But are you well enough to fly?”
He nodded.
After a quick breakfast, they said goodbye to Mr and Mrs Haywood and set off back to the Guild.
They flew high over perfect, snow-blanketed hills and frozen lakes, avoiding flying directly over towns and houses where possible; there would be enough of an uproar in Medlock, let alone creating one in the countryside.
On a couple of occasions, Edwin’s wings faltered again, and they dipped, making Prue cling tightly to his mane.
“I’m sorry!” he called. “This body is … different.”
Prue softly patted his head. “You’re doing brilliantly.” But she had a terrible feeling that he was failing in his new body, and she sensed he knew it too. “Thank you for everything, Jack Swift,” she whispered.
He didn’t talk much for the rest of the journey. Prue felt he needed all his concentration to fly. Rising panic was building in her that if he was in this new body much longer it would all go terribly wrong. It had been bad enough being so close to Francis again and then losing him for a second time. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to Edwin too.
After a couple of hours, to her relief, the great thrum of the city came into view with smoke rising from chimneys, piercing spires, domes and rooftops one on top of another as far as the eye could see. They saw the great square from above and navigated from there to the Guild house. They drew some attention from below with people looking and pointing, having not seen a personifate quite as magnificent before.
Edwin dropped Prue off in the street outside the Guild house.
“I’ll fly to the factorium and update Master White. You tell Agapantha and the others,” he said.
“I’d rather go with you,” she protested.
“Agapantha will be worried. You should see her. I’ll be fine.”
“You need to get back into your old body as soon as possible,” she blurted.
He paused, looking deep into her eyes and nodded. “I know. See you soon.” And with that, he took flight.
Prue watched him grow smaller in the distance, her heart tight. She took a breath and let herself into the house. She found Lavender, Liddy, Queen Adelaide, Abel from the gardens, and some of the other apprentices in the dining room. A hush came over the room. Lavender rushed over and embraced her.
“Oh, my dear. Thank goodness you’re all right.”
Liddy hugged her next. “What a business! I can’t believe you’ve survived without a scratch.”
Cora glanced up from her lunch. “Oh great, you’re back,” she said flatly.
“Nice to see you too, Cora,” said Prue. And meant it.
“Where’s the little one?”
“He’s needed to see Master White right away,” Prue said, a lump in her throat.
Agapantha ran into the room, “You’re back!” she cried, in the loudest voice Prue had ever heard her use. Agapantha instantly turned a shade of scarlet as everyone stared.
“Now, where were we with the snow plans?” Liddy said.
Agapantha pulled Prue into the parlour. “Are you all right, Prue? Is Edwin all right?”
Prue smiled. “He’s fine.” She crossed her fingers tightly at her side. “And I am too.” She had so many mixed emotions: the weight of responsibility in pressing the button, the constant pain in her chest over Francis, relief that the stag-men were gone, worry for Edwin, and she didn’t even know where to start when she thought about Craftsman Primrose. He’d been a ghost all along. No wonder he felt so strongly about personifate rights. But she still had so many questions.
Lavender popped her head around the door. “I’m so glad you’re safe. You can update us on the details later, but Master Woolstenbury sent a note over asking if you would visit her at the factorium the moment you return.”
Prue glanced at Agapantha.
“It’ll be fine, I’m sure,” Agapantha said.
*
The factorium looked magnificent, as though frozen in time. It seemed like the previous evening hadn’t happened; the stag-men bodies had been removed, and a fresh layer of snow had reset time.
Prue looked around, but Edwin was nowhere to be seen, so she trudged through the snow to the factorium and went straight to Master Woolstenbury’s office. She took a long breath, then knocked.
“Come in.”
Prue opened the door and Master Woolstenbury was sitting at her desk waiting for her. She entered nervously.
“Take a seat, Prudence.”
Prue winced at hearing her true name.
“Yes, word has got back to me.” Master Woolstenbury raised an eyebrow.
Prue sat down. The leather on the seat creaked.
“Apprentice Snow-Moon informed Master White that your parents were quite safe and the last stag-man has been dealt with.”
Prue nodded, relief flooding through her that Edwin had returned safely.
“Good.”
There was an awkward silence as Master Woolstenbury observed her with steel eyes. A wood-pigeon cooed outside.
The knot in Prue’s stomach twisted.
“I wanted to
personally thank you for what you did for the Guild, and for me.”
Prue frowned; she wasn’t expecting a thank you after all the rules she had broken.
“Things have become clear through the night – the Sovereign Chancellery guards caught up with Finblewick, who was waiting on the forest edge and was missed by the blast. He filled in the missing pieces.”
Prue sat forward.
“You understand that Governor Watson-Wentworth wants to keep the whole incident as quiet as possible. Such things would only be fuel for the ASL and RfP.”
Relief rapidly turned to disappointment. Could it be that Master Woolstenbury wasn’t going to tell her anything about Charles Primrose?
“But I feel that those in the Guild need a truthful overview, and you at least deserve the full details.”
Master Woolstenbury stood and picked up a painting that was propped against the side of the wall. She brought it to her desk and turned it around for Prue to see. Prue frowned; it was a painting of the intelligent-looking hare from the Hall of Lost Personifates. She remembered its name – Carl something – a technician.
“I don’t understand,” Prue said.
“About eight years ago, a hare personifate called Carl Cold-Moon was found in a similar situation to the jackalope personifate who was brutally killed not long after you arrived at the Guild. We put Carl’s untimely death down to a wild animal attack too. Everyone was mortified – not only for the brutal loss of a second life too early, but he was well known among the craftsman and a friend to me. You see, he showed such technical promise and was an absolute talent for precision design.”
“I’m not sure I’m following you, Master Woolstenbury.”
“Does it help if I tell you that Carl is a variant of Charles?”
There was a strange moment where all the mixed-up jigsaw pieces in Prue’s mind began to organize themselves.
“Craftsman Primrose?” she said breathlessly. It wasn’t Charles Primrose’s first time in a personifate body!
“Indeed. I wanted Carl to be an apprentice, but the Governor then wouldn’t allow it. It appears Carl harboured a grudge that grew. He confided in Finblewick, a fairly new personifate who had rather an experimental body built at a time when we allowed the apprentices to have more autonomy in their designs. Finblewick begrudged his appearance and Carl formed a friendship with him, knowing he needed an ally for his plans.
“Carl used his incredible aptitude and skill to craft a human personifate body in secret. Then when it was ready, eight years ago, he enlisted Finblewick to help, with the promise of a new body. But he needed Finblewick to stay as he was for the time being. Whether he used his original qwortzite or found a way to transfer his wildspark signal from one piece to another is unclear. He then planted his old hare personifate body to look like a wild animal attack and faked his death. He knew that in human form he could achieve anything he wanted to. But his ambitions seem to have exceeded him.”
Prue was astonished. It all made sense now.
Master Woolstenbury put the painting back against the wall and sat back down opposite Prue.
“I’m sorry for not seeing what was going on under my own nose and not protecting you from danger. The Sovereign Chancellery and their ridiculous demands for one hundred personifates rather blinded us to bigger matters.”
There was another moment of uncomfortable silence before Master Woolstenbury continued.
“I also wanted to show you something, something I wish I’d shown you before.” She turned a picture on her desk around. “This is my daughter, Ferne.”
A girl around Prue’s age smiled back at her.
“She died when she was only twelve.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Prue. It was terrible for a parent to lose a child. She’d not wish to see anyone go through what her parents had endured.
“It was a long time ago, but as you know, a wound is left in your heart that never heals. No matter how inventively we look to fill it. I searched for years; it was what drove me to succeed. I was always interested in what happens beyond, from a young age, but after Ferne, and when I was so close to discovering qwortzite and the connection, I became obsessed with finding her and bringing her back.”
Prue swallowed. She knew exactly what she meant.
“I never found her, Prue. And no good can come of trying to make it happen. As you may have guessed, I have confiscated your adapted GODAR machine.”
Cora must have told her. She would certainly be told to leave now.
“What we do at the Guild … it’s complicated, and not just scientifically, but morally. You understand that, don’t you? Your invention presents a real danger to all personifates too.”
She nodded, even though she didn’t really understand.
“Perhaps we’re all still finding our feet and learning. I hope we can all grow from this ghastly experience.” Master Woolstenbury clasped her hands together. “Taking all this into consideration and the fact you find yourself without a mentor, I’m afraid it leaves both you and me in an unusual situation. One I believe I have an answer to. I wonder if you would accept an offer of transferring your apprenticeship to a new mentor?”
Prue’s eyes lit up. Despite having to let go of Francis and her mission to bring him back, she found she wanted to stay at the Guild more than anything. Right now she would have taken anyone as a mentor, even Sollentude. “I’d like that very much!”
“Good. Then I shall expect to see you after the winter break. You will report directly to me.”
“To … you?”
“I haven’t taken on an apprentice in years. I feel it may be time for a change. I plan to speak to Apprentice Snow-Moon too. There’s never been a more important time to ensure the success of a personifate apprentice.”
Prue beamed. “Thank you!”
“Of course, you understand that remaining here is on the strict condition that you give up your memory plans and all related machinery?”
Prue nodded.
Master Woolstenbury put her hands together. “Good. Now, I’ve called a meeting in the atrium in an hour to bring everyone together. I will see you then.”
*
Prue felt like the past day had been a dream. As she walked back through the atrium, she half expected Craftsman Primrose to appear. Despite his crazed plan, she found she missed him. After all, without him she would never have been here.
Abel had put some star-shaped blue and pink flowers in a vase close to the entrance. She took a couple then glanced at the corridor which led to the Hall of Lost Personifates.
Inside it was utterly silent. Not a cold silence, but peaceful. She passed a gap where the painting of the storm-grey hare with intelligent eyes had been, and thought about the second day at the Guild, when Craftsman Primrose had brought them here. The plaque remained below the empty space.
Carl Cold-Moon
Technician
Capax Infiniti
“Holding the infinite,” she said quietly. What and who had Craftsman Primrose been in his first life? It was probable that she’d never know. She wondered if Master Woolstenbury would return the painting to the room.
She moved further down the hall to where Edwin’s painting of Luella rested, carefully laid the flowers on the floor below, then put her fingertips to the pigeon’s chest. “Thank you for being a friend. Maybe you’re somewhere with Francis now, looking out for each other. I think you’d get on brilliantly.” She smiled at the thought.
She regarded it for a minute longer, thinking of everything that had happened, how a few moon-cycles had felt like a lifetime. Then she took something from her pocket and left the room.
The door gently clicked shut behind her.
Back in the Hall of Lost Personifates, tucked inside the frame of Luella Harvest-Moon’s painting, was the picture of Francis grinning and leaning against a mechanimal plough horse.
*
As Prue walked back through the atrium, she suddenly caught sight of something moving in
the white through the window. She ran outside.
Two beady eyes blinked in the snow, then Edwin bounded towards her.
“You’re you again!” she cried. Relief, warm and soothing, coursed through her.
“Master White returned me to my real body straight away. It was fun being a flying lion for a while, but she thought that a quick transferral back would be the least risk to my wildspark signal.”
“It’s good to have you back. I mean, how would you be able to sit on my shoulder as a flying lion?”
“You’ve not been thrown out of the Guild, then?”
“Not yet!” Prue tapped her shoulder. “Hop up for a moment, Jack Swift, if it’s not invading your personal space?”
Edwin scampered up to sit on her shoulder and they took a walk along the path. Abel was in the distance by the gates, shoveling away.
“Are you really all right?” Prue asked. “This week has been pretty overwhelming.”
He nodded. “More to the point, are you all right? What happened with your brother, what you had to do… I mean, Prue, that must’ve been a terrible choice. I can’t even imagine how you did it.”
“I’m glad I’ve got you to talk to about it. You’re the only one who saw Francis; if you hadn’t witnessed it, I would have thought I’d imagined it.”
“I’m glad too.”
“In truth, I still don’t know what to make of it all. I can’t help but think that Charles Primrose had a point, even if he chose a rather extreme way to try and tackle it.”
Edwin looked at her. “I feel the same.”
“But I know that it was right to let go of Francis, that I have to move on, find my own way.”
Prue trudged along the path. It was just like the first day she’d arrived at the factorium, yet her world had changed so much. “Is there a part of you that would want to be back inside a human body, if you had the chance?”
Edwin was quiet for a moment. “It was a bit confusing changing bodies back then, but given the chance to be the first-lifer boy me? Yes, I think I would take it.”
Prue wondered again what he would have looked like in his first life. How he might have died. She wondered what it would feel like not to know.