The Boy with One Name

by J. R. Wallis

  ‘So where is it then?’

  Jones wasn’t listening. He was standing on his tiptoes, peering at a coat of arms carved into the wall above him. Two small dragons sat, either side of a shield, gazing out into the chapel. There was something carved into the centre of the shield too, but it was difficult to see it clearly in the moonlight and it was taking a great deal of squinting to work out what it was. Tilting his head this way and that, Jones’s eyes lit up when he saw the image of a door. The cogs started turning in his head about what it might mean, but, before he had time to say anything to the others, the latch on the main door of the chapel clicked up, sending a loud noise echoing round the walls. Someone was coming. Ruby and the two boys scattered for cover. She and Jones ended up behind a tall plinth on which stood a large marble sculpture of an important-looking gentleman, while Thomas Gabriel flashed into the nearest pew and ducked down, the One Eye flitting after him.

  A tall, bony-looking man, whose dark, rumpled suit looked a little too big, closed the door behind him.

  He stood, listening for a while. When he seemed satisfied he was alone, he walked halfway up the nave of the chapel and then cut left through the pews to arrive at the section of wall opposite the main door which the One Eye and the others had been inspecting. Standing below the coat of arms, he rummaged through his trouser pockets and took out a small globe illuminated from within by a pale creamy light. Jones and Ruby had a perfect view from where they were hiding and they watched him lob it into the air where it remained suspended above him, casting a ghostly light over the wall.

  Jones watched carefully as the door engraved on the shield he’d found reacted instantly to the light and started to move. It drifted free onto a bare patch of wall, from where the door began to grow, its bottom edge reaching down towards the floor, until it was easily large enough for a man to step through. Having reached an appropriate size, the stone engraving transformed noiselessly into a real wooden door.

  Jones shot a look at Thomas Gabriel when he saw the boy straining every sinew to see over the top of the pew he was hiding in to watch what the man was doing. Jones flapped a silent hand at him to try and tell him to crouch back down out of sight, but Thomas Gabriel didn’t seem to notice, or to Jones’s mind didn’t want to.

  When Jones looked back to see what the man in the suit was doing, he saw that the globe full of creamy light had drifted down and fitted itself against the door. The light within it was almost gone and Jones realized it had transformed into a simple doorknob.

  The man turned it and opened the door, revealing a set of stone steps disappearing down into the dark.

  ‘Du Clement!’ he shouted down the stairs. ‘I’m coming down. It’s time for your bedding to be changed, worst luck.’

  But, before he could take a step, a large BANG! went off like a thunderclap and he whipped round like a cat as the noise echoed round the chapel.

  Jones could see instantly what had happened. Thomas Gabriel had been so eager to see what the man was doing that he’d leant too far forward, dislodging a hymn book left on the shelf of the pew.

  ‘Who’s there?’ shouted the man, as the noise died away, one hand raised and white sparks fizzing round his fingertips. ‘Come on out,’ he said. ‘Show yourselves.’

  Jones motioned at Thomas Gabriel, who nodded because he knew what Jones was asking him to do, and took a deep breath before standing up to reveal himself to the obvious surprise of the man.

  ‘Don’t hurt me, sir,’ whimpered Thomas Gabriel. ‘I didn’t mean any harm.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Aloysius, sir. I’m a Badlander like you, well, just an apprentice.’

  ‘Are you indeed?’

  ‘Yes, sir, I knew you must be a Badlander too after you used that Moon Globe,’ said Thomas Gabriel, pointing at the doorknob. ‘I’ve heard how rare they are. Only very special Badlanders would own such a thing, I know that.’

  The man in the dark suit fired a set of white sparks at the doorknob and it floated off the oak door and became a Moon Globe again. He held it up, casting its pearly light around the pews to see who else might be lurking in them.

  ‘What are you doing here? Are you on your own?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Thomas Gabriel emerged from the pew into the nave and held up his hands. ‘Just me, sir. I was out on a hunt. Practising. My Master and I are passing through Oxford and he sent me off on an exercise to locate a One Eye he’d hidden as a test.’ Thomas Gabriel plucked his One Eye from his pocket and held it up by its wings for the man to see. ‘I was just on my way back to my Master,’ continued Thomas Gabriel, ‘but when I saw this college and the chapel I couldn’t resist a peek. I’ve read about the research fellows at this place pretending to be ordinary people so they can study. I’d love to be one when I grow up. When you came in, I was scared and didn’t know what to do. That’s why I hid. But then I saw your Moon Globe and well, to be frank, sir, my excitement got the better of me.’

  ‘And who is your Master?’

  ‘Thackery, sir. Thackery of Dartington,’ lied Thomas Gabriel without missing a beat.

  The man seemed to be considering this until a loud murmuring rose up the stairs that led down into the crypt.

  Thomas Gabriel cast a glance at the doorway. ‘I suppose there must be something very important down there if you can only open the door with a Moon Globe.’

  ‘Just dusty old books,’ smiled the man. ‘Nothing of interest to a boy like you.’ He pushed the door to, leaving it just ajar. ‘So, Aloysius, you want to be a research fellow, you say?’ He walked towards Thomas Gabriel, checking the pews as he passed them, to be sure no one else was hiding, as the boy nodded. ‘Well, luckily for you, I’m Elgin Pindlebury, the resident research fellow here. Ever since the foundation of the college, a Badlander research fellowship has always existed. We research rare creatures, studying the combat techniques, weapons and magic most effective against them. Ordinary people don’t know of our studies of course. There are other secrets too and I’ll let you into one of them. The clock tower in the college quadrangle isn’t exactly what it seems. Let me show you, before I set you on your way,’ He put his arm around Thomas Gabriel’s shoulder and guided him towards the main door.

  Jones and Ruby moved away from the statue. With Pindlebury talking, and Thomas Gabriel doing his best to keep him occupied by asking questions, they hurried towards the oak door in the wall and pulled it open. Ruby darted down the stairs into the dark. But, when Jones tried to follow, he couldn’t, bumping against an invisible barrier. He tried again. But he was unable to pass through the doorway and didn’t know why.

  Jones crouched down, wary of being seen, and when Ruby peered back round the corner to see where he was, he waved her on.

  ‘I can’t get through!’ he hissed. ‘Just go on your own. See what you can find.’

  As soon as Ruby had gone, Jones shuffled low to the end of the nearest pew and risked a peek towards the main door. Thomas Gabriel seemed to be engaged in a particularly animated discussion with Pindlebury, obviously doing his best to buy them some time.

  But, as the other boy’s voice rose in a panic, Jones began to realize something was going wrong. Pindlebury was casting a spell, firing white sparks from his hands that were wrapping themselves tight around Thomas Gabriel, pinning his arms by his sides. With Thomas Gabriel bound tight, the man held out his hand flat as if about to feed a sugar lump to a horse.

  In the man’s palm was a black, wriggly thing and Jones wasn’t entirely sure what it was. He scuttled silently down the far side of the pews to try and see more, stopping when he had a better vantage point. His hand curled around the catapult in his pocket, just in case.

  ‘I told you I didn’t mean any harm,’ whimpered Thomas Gabriel. ‘I won’t say anything about that door if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  ‘I’m not worried about it in the slightest,’ said Pindlebury, and smiled. He pointed at the wriggly creature in his hand. ‘This is a Memory Leech. I�
��ve been studying them on and off for a while. Now, of course, I could use magic and wipe away your memory of what you’ve seen here because that door isn’t something you should know anything about. But this seems a most opportune moment to watch the Leech at work, don’t you think? A research fellow is always looking for a chance to do some practical research. Willing subjects can be hard to find.’

  ‘Please, sir, I don’t want that thing anywhere near—’

  ‘Stop whining, boy. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill Memory Leech. It’s a rare subspecies, a penetrating worm or smeawyrm of the slimy variety, what we call a slipigne smeawyrm. It’s very precise. All I do is tell it how many minutes to take out and it’ll eat them up from your memory. It won’t hurt. Just tickle a bit. At least, that’s what all the research says. But I’m intrigued to see it for myself.’ Thomas Gabriel whimpered as the black Leech reared up in Pindlebury’s hand as if already sensing it was about to go to work. ‘Look on the bright side. I get to do some research and won’t need to speak to your Master about you trespassing, meaning you won’t get into trouble with him. We both win.’

  Jones was busy trying to work out what he should do as Pindlebury placed the head of the Leech close to Thomas Gabriel’s ear. He could see the slimy thing desperately trying to get a hold with its toothy mouth, and Pindlebury was struggling to control it.

  ‘Interesting,’ announced Pindlebury, ‘I never realized quite how strong they were when so close to a host.’

  Jones could see the One Eye desperately trying to get out of Thomas Gabriel’s coat pocket, but the boy’s arms were bound so tight by his sides it was trapped. He raised his catapult, his mind fizzing, still unsure about what was the right thing to do.

  Pindlebury leant forward and spoke clearly to the Leech. ‘I’d like five minutes extracted from this boy’s he—’

  A scream erupted and echoed through the chapel.

  Pindlebury looked around at the secret door in the wall. So did Jones, cursing. He heard the rapid clatter of feet coming up the stone steps and then the oak door was flung open to reveal a skeleton looking somewhat confused. But when it saw Pindlebury it seemed to know exactly what to say.

  ‘Mon Dieu, Pinndlebairry,’ it announced. ‘Knnooowww theeesss, you iigggnorrraaamus. You wheell beee the lassst fellowww of St Crosse to keeep me, Charles Du Clement, ’ere.’

  Jones knew what a Lich looked like from his studies and he recognized the name Victor Brynn had mentioned to Maitland. So Jones knew this was the Lich they’d come to find. He watched the creature scuttle rapidly towards the main door where Pindlebury was standing. The man looked horrified. Thomas Gabriel didn’t look particularly happy either.

  ‘Wait!’ shouted Jones, standing up. ‘Mr Du Clement, I need to ask you something. How do I find a Witch’s Dark Bottle?’ But the skeleton kept going.

  Jones saw Pindlebury glance over at him, clearly wondering who he was, judging by the increased look of confusion on his face. And then Jones saw what was going to happen next before the man did. A strange shrill sound started up as Du Clement sailed through the air towards Pindlebury, air whistling through the gaps in his jaw.

  The skeleton hit the man full in the chest and they both landed in a heap, Pindlebury’s head hitting the stone floor with a nasty crack and knocking him out cold.

  As Du Clement struggled to stand up, Jones could see that some of the skeleton’s ribs had sprung loose in the impact. He took careful aim with his catapult. A silver ball hissed through the air and hit Du Clement in the left thigh, sending the skeleton’s whole leg flying, splitting apart into its various bones. The Lich tottered, but managed to stay upright, and lifted the latch on the door, heaving it open. Another ball bearing hit its hand, splitting all the bones apart, but then Du Clement was gone, hopping into the night.

  Jones rushed towards Thomas Gabriel, yelling at him to help, pointing out that Pindlebury’s spell had disappeared, meaning he could move again. Thomas Gabriel raised a foot ready to squash the wriggly black Memory Leech on the floor.

  ‘No!’ shouted Jones. ‘We might need it,’ and he pointed at Pindlebury as he ran past. ‘Now come on!’

  TWENTY-THREE

  When Pindlebury opened his eyes, Jones stepped forward and stood over him.

  ‘Are you all right? Your head’s got a nasty bump on it.’

  The man blinked up at him from the cold, stone floor and swore, then muttered a few dark words at Ruby and Thomas Gabriel too.

  When Pindlebury tried to stand up, he found that his jacket had been pulled down over his shoulders, trapping his arms in the sleeves. His belt, which had been around his waist, was now tied around the tops of his knees. Before he could say anything, Jones pointed to a pile of bones heaped on the floor. Du Clement’s skull was sitting on top, muttering to itself in snippets of French.

  ‘He fell apart when we got hold of him,’ said Jones. ‘He was trying to climb up the ivy and escape over the college wall when we grabbed his leg. He’s all there.’

  To the three children standing over him, Pindlebury seemed to breathe a huge sigh of relief, and then his face turned serious. ‘You need to let me go,’ he snarled.

  ‘We will,’ said Jones. ‘We just want to find out something from Du Clement first.’

  Pindlebury scowled, addressing all three children. ‘You are in a lot of trouble, whoever you are,’ and he gave Thomas Gabriel a particularly cold stare.

  ‘Don’t worry, the Lich isn’t broken,’ said Jones. ‘He says he can put himself back together. That he falls apart a lot.’

  ‘Do you know who I am?’ asked Pindlebury.

  ‘Un nincompoop,’ cackled Du Clement.

  ‘I’m the Badlander research fellow of this college. Appointed by the Order to look after this Lich, and to whom you’re going to answer for all of this. You’re making it worse for yourselves every moment you make me lie here!’

  ‘We’re just here to ask Du Clement a question,’ said Jones.

  Pindlebury snorted with derision. ‘Go ahead! He’s as mad as a hatter. Du Clement may have been a scholar once, but after he was bitten by a Lich the Order placed him in the chapel’s crypt as a means of preserving his vast knowledge. The process of turning into a Lich, combined with being imprisoned in the crypt for over two hundred years, has turned his mind to mush. As the resident fellow, I’m the only one who can get any sense out of him.’

  ‘With this you mean?’ Jones held up the bottle he’d found in Pindlebury’s pocket which had ‘Thinking Stimulant’ written on the label and the Deschamps & Sons logo above it. Jones popped off the lid. ‘Smells like sage and a few other things.’ He pointed to the label on the back of the bottle. ‘We burn it apparently.’

  Thomas Gabriel shook a yellow box of matches like it was a kid’s toy.

  ‘Luckily, we found these in your pockets too.’

  ‘This is outrageous,’ hissed Pindlebury. ‘Du Clement is an abomination. A Lich. He’s also a secret. Who told you about him? I demand to know at once.’

  ‘No point really,’ said Thomas Gabriel, and held up the wriggling black Leech. ‘You won’t remember if we do tell you.’ Pindlebury struggled to get up as soon as he saw the Leech, but all he succeeded in doing was rolling around on the stone floor. Eventually, he stopped and started to conjure some magic, but before he could finish the spell he was intoning, Thomas Gabriel’s One Eye landed on his chest and bared its teeth at him.

  ‘No magic,’ it hissed. ‘Or else I’ll bite that tongue clean out.’

  Pindlebury took one look at the creature’s teeth and decided not to finish the spell.

  With the man watching, Jones tipped out a small amount of powder from the bottle onto the floor in front of the pile of bones. Thomas Gabriel struck a match and as soon as the powder was lit it began to smoulder. Du Clement stopped his muttering as a sweet-smelling smoke wound up through the holes that passed for his nose.

  Jones cleared his throat. ‘Monsieur Du Clement? Can you hear me?’

&nbs
p; ‘Oui.’

  ‘I think you might be able to tell us how to find something we need.’

  ‘Oui. I afffvvve mucccch knowledddge ov lots of zings. Whoo tollld youuuuu about me-ee. Ze Order keeps me locked awaaayyyy. I ammm zere duurrty leeetttle sea-kret.’

  ‘I remembered hearing it from someone called Victor Brynn.’

  ‘Ahhh, Viii-ctorrrr. Mon Dieu. He was a goooood reeeseeeaarchhh felllowww, un bon studenttt. Bet-ter zan Pindlebairy. Not fiiit to wipe Viiii-ctorrrr’s behhhind.’ Pindlebury muttered something loudly under his breath. ‘Zzzzo, whaat eees eeet u vant to knowwwww.’

  ‘How to find a Dark Bottle. A Deorcan Flascan.’

  ‘Ahhh, for a Wee-tch. To keeel ehhhhrrrr.’

  ‘Yes. I want to know how to find the Dark Bottle for a Witch called Mrs Easton.’

  Pindlebury laughed. ‘Good luck with that.’

  ‘Can you tell me, Monsieur Du Clement?’ asked Jones, ignoring Pindlebury. ‘Can you tell me how to find a Dark Bottle?’

  ‘Oh, yessss. But fiiirrrst you mussst tell me somezing too. Somezing I do not know. C’est fair, oui? How you say een Eenglish? Teeet forrr Taaat. Zat is ze priii-ce of knowwwleddge. You zink zat’s fair, Pindellberry?’

  Pindlebury laughed. ‘What can a boy know that the great Du Clement does not?’

  Jones stared into the black empty eyes of the skull, thinking about everything Maitland had ever taught him. And then he thought of something else that his Master would never have known, let alone believed. When he looked at Ruby, she nodded and he knew she must have already had the same idea. ‘I know girls can do magic,’ he said.

  ‘Like a Wee-tch uuu meeen? Using her Wiccacraeft. But evvverywone knows zis.’

  ‘No. Not like Witches. I mean girls can Commence just like boys and use Badlander magic. They can be Badlanders too. Magic works for girls.’