Then he opened his mouth to speak. ‘We don’t have a lot of time left–’
‘Moons collide! That cat just spoke,’ said Abe. ‘Did you hear that?’
‘No, I think it’s only you, Abe,’ said the cat.
‘Luh-luh-logic defied!’ The student fell over, as if winded. ‘When my experience deceives me, my reason will guide me…’ Abe plunged full flow into one of the Academy’s many mantras.
Balthazar rolled his eyes.
Cassandra raised the letter opener.
‘Abe, get a hold of yourself,’ she said.
The student yelped, backed away and ran as fast as he could, shouting the mantra down the corridor.
‘I guess we have even less time now,’ said Balthazar.
‘Wot’s the plan, sir?’
‘We may have to run.’
‘’S’alright, sir, I bin walkin’ up ’n’ down in circles round this room ’ere for ages – be good to ’av’ a bit o’ the old eggsysize.’
They ran in the opposite direction to Abe Goodfellow, cutting through the corridors and back down the stairs. Cassandra was doubtful, but Balthazar never once made an error and guided them back past her cell in no time at all.
‘Through here,’ Balthazar nodded to the door, ‘across the hall, and down into the aqueducts.’
‘Will we ’av’ to swim?’ asked Niclas.
‘The water gate will close at any moment. Come!’
Cassandra opened the door, let Balthazar slip through first, then followed after with Niclas.
They arrived on a balcony overlooking a magnificent nave of red stained glass windows, black iron chandeliers and huge stone arches of gothic design. The cat led them over the edge, onto the top of the nearest arch. To Balthazar, it was a simple bridge to the balcony on the other side. But for Cassandra and Niclas, this bridge was but a mere beam of stone, hovering above a dizzying drop in the middle of a hall so grand that rays of light could not cross it without fading through the atmospheric clouds of dust. All they had to do was cross to the other side. But the other side was a long way off. And the height wasn’t the worst of it. Below them, there were at least thirty students dressed in the red, ceremonial robes of the Academy. They were all versed deep in some sort of initiation, all looking towards the altar; and there were a dozen inquisitors dotted around them.
‘Logic will govern my thoughts,’ said the leading Inquisitor.
‘Logic will govern my thoughts,’ the crowd repeated, in a harmony that reverberated up the stone columns, through the arch and into Niclas and Cassandra's legs.
‘Come on,’ mouthed Balthazar, prancing across the beam with all the dexterity belonging to a cat.
‘Reason will be my weapon.’
‘Reason will be my weapon.’
Cassandra and Niclas began to make their way across as slowly as possible.
‘Why couldn’t there just be a door?’ murmured Niclas. ‘Why’s it always gotta be heights.’
‘Shh!’ said Cassandra.
‘I will seek to rid the world of the unreasonable.’
‘I will seek to rid the world of the unreasonable.’
Niclas could feel his sweat dripping off his body and raining on the students below.
They were halfway, edging across the beam.
‘I will spread the word of law…’
‘I will spread the word of law…’
Just a bit further.
‘…And bring light to where there is darkness.’
‘…And bring light to where there is darkness.’
A little bit further…
‘By the hammer and the scales.’
‘By the hammer and the scales.’
A little bit more…
‘By the book of the realm.’
‘By the book of the realm.
Almost there…
‘I swear this oath.’
‘I swear this oath.’
Almost… Almost…
‘I, Inquisitor Harrow, welcome you scholars into the Order of Logic. May you go on to be the greatest of logicians, teachers, inquisitors and enforcers of reason–’
The main doors to the front of the hall banged open. All faces turned to look. In came an out of breath, sweaty, red-faced Abe Goodfellow.
‘Logicide! Logicide! Help! Help!’ he screamed.
The students fell into whispers, whilst three inquisitors rushed to meet with Abe to calm him down.
Niclas stared below, dividing his concentration, which for someone like Niclas, whose concentration is pretty thin to begin with, is not ideal.
Cassandra, who was coming up behind him, could see him drifting over the edge.
‘Niclas!’ she said.
Her warning had an adverse effect. The boy, startled, swung around and knocked Cassandra with his shoulder. She fought to regain her balance, and the letter opener fell from her hand. It cut through the air like a… well… letter opener, and clattered on the floor below.
There was a moment of confusion, as people questioned the likelihood of letter openers materialising in thin air. Then, suddenly, the students began looking up and pointing, uncertain of what they were seeing.
Inquisitor Sinclair followed their fingers, shot his eyes upon Cassandra, and made haste out the door with Abe Goodfellow.
Niclas reached the end of the arch. He climbed over onto the balcony and tried the door. It was locked. Cassandra soon followed, sticking one key after another into the lock.
‘Faster, faster!’ said Balthazar.
‘’Urry!’ said Niclas.
‘Look!’ snapped the Princess. ‘Both of you! Can’t you see I’m doing it! Shouting certainly doesn’t help. Be patient!’
They calmed.
The correct key slid in, turned and the three of them fell through the door.
They continued through the passageway, until they came to a spiral of stone steps.
At the bottom of the steps was a large room, filled with crates and sacks of various supplies: mostly food stores for the Academy’s kitchen. There was a cold breeze in the air too, and the sound of lapping water nearby.
Two men were unloading the last box from their boat onto the dock. They had been working all day and were rushing to get the job finished so they could go home. Despite the warning printed on the last box: fragile, they tossed it carelessly onto a sack of coal and started untying the boat.
‘Don’t forget to close the water gate,’ said one.
‘Aye, I won’t make that mistake again. I got no pay last month, because the Academy complained to the management. They said I had caused them a whole heap of worry. Don’t see why, it’s not like anyone would want to steal from them.’
‘It’s not to keep people out, it’s to keep people in.’
‘Wot?’
‘Like a precaution, there’s all sorts of crazies in ’ere, imagine if one day, one escaped and made it down ’ere. They could swim out and be free to roam about the city!’
The other reflected on this. ‘Still, I don’t think it was worth a month’s salary; you know what I mean?’ he said. ‘A man’s got to put food on the table.’
‘If I were you, I’d shut up about it and forget it ever happened. Don’t want to be upsetting the Academy of all people.’
‘Ah, I don’t care, I’m out of this job in three months – can’t be dealing with lifting all this cargo off and on boats all day long, it’s done me back in proper.’
‘And what will you do in this day and age that don’t require a good working back or at least a set of brains?’
‘Might leave the city, get out of the stench, find myself a bit of land – that’s the life see, growing your own food and living free.’
‘And just how are you gonna afford your own land? It’s expensive business, land business, not easy to come by. And even if you get it, these days Government can make a compulsive purchase.’
‘A what now?’
‘A compulsive purchase. It means they buy your land off you, an
d there ain’t nothing you can do to refuse it.’
‘That’s practically theft!’
‘It sure is…’
The two men continued in this way of conversation, whilst the cat, the boy and the girl watched and listened behind a large barrel of malt.
‘What are we waiting for?’ said Cassandra.
‘Phase two.’
‘Face wot?’ said Niclas.
The two men had finished untying their vessel and were about to push it out and lock the gate with a large iron key the size of a forearm, when a third man rose up out of the boat’s bow.
‘Eh!’ cried the first.
‘Who the?’ cried the second.
The Witchhunter pulled both his guns and kept them trained on each of the men.
‘Hey, no trouble, gov,’ said the first, raising his hands.
‘You want the food? The boat? Take it for all I care – it ain’t worth a bullet,’ said the second.
The three escapees emerged from behind the men and hopped onto the boat one by one.
‘What’s going on?’ asked the first.
‘If you’d kindly alight here,’ said Balthazar, ‘oh, and mind the gap.’
The first man stepped from the boat to the dock, fearing that he’d be shot at any moment. The second followed, eyes fixed to the talking cat.
‘Thank you,’ said Balthazar.
‘Fanks, gents,’ said Niclas.
‘Much obliged,’ said Cassandra.
The Witchhunter, one gun still aimed, put one hand on the iron gate and pulled the boat along the fence and out of the dock.
‘Wait! Stop them! Stop them! Logicide! Logicide!’ Abe Goodfellow ran out onto the dock pointing and screaming. The two couriers stared at him then at each other – apathetic.
‘Aren’t you going to stop them! They’re escaping!’
‘Pardon me, gov, I don’t believe this is anything to do with us this time.’
‘Nope, nothing we could do. And it ain’t our remit to be stopping looneys.’
The student, infuriated, and overcome with madness raced to the edge of the dock and leapt into the water.
‘The boy is adamant, I’ll give him that,’ said Balthazar.
The Witchhunter took aim.
‘No!’ shouted Cassandra, pushing the gun down.
She picked up an oar and tried to raise it over her shoulder like a spear. Like most oars, it was surprisingly heavily; so she gripped it with two hands and clumsily brought it hammering down on Abe’s head.
The Witchhunter frowned. He failed to see how that was any kinder.
And so it was. The escape was a success.
The four of them made off down the canals and were too far gone to be chased by the time the Inquisition had informed the City Watch.
The two men delivering the cargo were banned from all future visits to the Academy and docked a month’s wages each. But it wasn’t so bad. They’d succeeded in keeping what they’d seen concerning a certain talking feline to themselves.
Abe Goodfellow, however, had not.
He insisted that the talking cat had orchestrated the entire thing. The two men didn’t back up his story (not that it would have helped), and Abe was convicted of logicide.
He was committed and scheduled for immediate re-education.
***
The six bells in the six towers of the Academy rang out for hours. Soon, Laburnum was crawling with more guards than rats. The City Watch, commanded by inquisitors and justiciars, tore through the capital’s establishments from roof to cellar. They searched the canal network and put up blockades at every bridge. There hadn’t been such a force of gun and sword on the streets for nearly a decade. It would only be a matter of time before the escapees were found. Nowhere was safe to hide.
But there was one place they could hide.
One place the City Watch didn’t go. Some called it Bog End. Others, The Rags. Rat Bottom was a popular choice too. Most called it the slums.
Niclas called it home.
They travelled by canal. It was the safest way to travel unseen. And they had to do so, because Niclas and Cassandra were dressed in matching grey tunics, the kind only found in the Academy.
‘What a horrid place that was,’ said the Princess. ‘I must speak to mother about it. If she knew… what they do there… what they’ve done there… ’
‘It weren’t so bad, miss,’ said Niclas.
‘What? How can you say that? It was awful.’
‘I dunno, it ’ad a bed, a water closet which flushed funny but worked all the same. There was a window… the view weren’t great but you can’t ’av’ everyfing.’
‘Then you must be mad,’ said Cassandra.
‘I just ain’t picky, miss. Though, I’m glad you came when you did… I was startin’ to get a bit bored… and the food weren’t great.’
‘Didn’t they interrogate you?’
‘Interrorwot?’
‘Question you?’
‘No, miss, didn’t speak to no one. Just got a bag over me ’ead, got shown me room, then they left me. I did fink they might ’av’ forgotten ’bout me. Easy fing to do I guess. I gots one o’ ’em faces.’
Cassandra couldn’t believe it. Here was the boy who had started all of this. It was because of him she had been taken – him and that book; and they hadn’t even questioned him.
‘Say, Balfazar, how’d you get in that place anyway? How’d you know where to find me?’
‘Another one of those things, boy.’
‘What things?’ said Cassandra.
‘You wouldn’t understand,’ said Balthazar.
‘Try me. I understand most things rather well.’
‘Trust me. This, you wouldn’t.’
The Witchhunter appeared detached, but he was listening – even whilst he steered the boat into an open lock, and set upon the mechanism to close one gate, lower the water level, and open the next – even then, over the clanking of rusty cogs and gushing of falling water, he listened. And intently…
‘Have you always been able to talk like that? How did you learn?’ asked Cassandra.
‘I learnt the same way you did, I suspect. I was not always a cat.’
‘No?’
‘No miss,’ said Niclas, about to proudly do a bit of mansplaining. ‘Balfazar ’ere was a person once. But someone turned ’im into a cat see. Ain’t that right, sir?’
‘Yes. Exactly.’
‘That’s impossible,’ said the Princess.
‘I suppose most things are impossible to a closed mind,’ said Balthazar.
Cassandra lit up. She had the face of a person who had put two and two together to make five, but was happy about it.
‘What do you know of hypnosis?’ she asked.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t follow?’
‘I read that a person could control another person, make them do things against their will?’
‘Where did you read that, in the book you stole from us?’
‘I did no such thing. It didn’t belong to you in the first place. He was going to steal it from the library… I was protecting it.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Niclas, ‘you robbed me, I just remembered.’
‘I didn’t rob you. I–’
‘Where is the book now?’ asked Balthazar.
‘…’
‘Girl?’
‘They burnt it. The Inquisitors,’ she lied.
‘Burnt it,’ said Balthazar, with a look of genuine displeasure.
‘Yes. Burnt it. Right in front of me…’
‘A shame.’
The Witchhunter, still listening, sat down and guided them out of the lowered lock, pushing off the wall with an oar.
‘What was it, the book?’ asked Cassandra.
‘A grimoire.’
‘What’s that?’
‘A spell book.’
‘A spell book?’
‘A philosophy of olden times. A measure of the universe, the only one of its kind, older than al
l of us put together. And now it’s gone.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Cassandra, but only she knew what for.
‘It’s no bother. I’ve got all I need from the Zolnomicon. I think.’
‘You didn’t answer my question.’
‘Your question?’
‘Can people… control other people? By means of hypnosis?’
‘I don’t know if you'd call it hypnosis. But for those with a particular knowledge, it is not impossible to control the thoughts, words and actions of another. They call it charming the thread.’
‘Charming?’ said Cassandra.
'Because it’s a bit like charming snakes – I gather.’
Balthazar watched the Witchhunter carefully. He knew that underneath the man’s distant demeanour, he was listening.
‘That would explain everything,’ the Princess said to herself.
Niclas and Balthazar looked at each other and for the first time found themselves equally puzzled.
‘Wot miss?’
‘The Royal Protector tried to kill my mother, except it wasn’t him, he was under some sort of… some sort of…’
‘Trance?’ said Balthazar.
Cassandra nodded.
‘Who’s this Royal Protector again?’ asked Niclas.
‘My family’s bodyguard.’
‘Don’t sound much of a bodyguard to me. Why’d they call ’im royal?’
‘Because he protects the Royal Family…’
‘But that would make your family the…’ It wasn’t everyday Niclas had an epiphany, but when they came along they usually walloped him on the head. ‘Moons collide!’ He reached for his metaphorical hat and removed it charmingly. ‘I didn’t know you woz royalty, miss. I shoulda, shoulda washed me ’ands or summin.’
‘That’s quite alright,’ said Cassandra.
Balthazar was less surprised. He was more curious about the other bit.
‘Are you telling us that a witch has tried to kill the Queen?’
‘Witch?’
‘That’s what they call them. The ones who use the world in a different way.’
‘Well I don’t know. But I do know that something unexplainable has happened and the only thing that can possibly explain it, is something… illogical.’
‘I highly doubt your suspicions. Witches are hardly concerned with the workings of mortal folk. They have far more meaningful things to be doing.’
Widdershins Page 24