by Vic James
The kid looked at Meilyr triumphantly. You could see him thinking over what they’d suggested, examining it for flaws.
‘I warned you it was simple,’ said Asif, jiggling one leg, while they all awaited the heir’s verdict. ‘It’s not going to work, is it? I knew it wasn’t going to work.’
‘No,’ Meilyr said, slowly shaking his head. ‘No, I think it’s going to work just fine. I’m coming too, of course. I’m still a member of the Justice Council. My presence will corroborate the story for whoever is in the castle, while reassuring Luke.’
Dina looked like she wanted to protest, but Renie was nodding enthusiastically.
‘It’s like when you and Luke got Oz out of the security lock-up,’ the kid said. ‘The pair of you walked in like you had a right to be there and they believed you.’
Abi suspected that the earlier break-out hadn’t been quite that simple, and that Skill had been involved. But this scheme was essentially the same. It rested upon one thing: Crovan believing the summons.
Had Luke felt as nervous before Oz’s rescue as she felt now? He couldn’t have done. He was merely rescuing a friend. She was going in for her little brother.
Renie was elbowing her in the ribs. The kid nodded at Meilyr, who had apparently asked her a question.
‘I said, I know you’ve been working from some strange old sources, but is there anything you can tell us about the castle? Why the prisoners don’t all escape every time Crovan leaves? Maybe he locks them all into their cells, but I’m sure I’ve heard legends about Skillful safeguards.’
‘The books aren’t clear. There’s one old folk tale I found . . .’ She ferreted through the volumes stacked within arm’s reach, pulling out one stamped with Celtic patterns. ‘It’s called The Necklace of Eile An Ddchais and it’s a comedy, if you’d believe that. It says – and other sources confirm this – that the castle has two doors. One, you can only go in. The other, you can only go out. Here’s the twist: the one that leads out is deadly. It kills you, unless it’s opened by a Crovan. Which would be quite a deterrent to escape, if it were literally true.
‘There are references here and here’ – she plonked two heavy history books down in front of Meilyr – ‘that throw some light on it. The Crovans are one of the ancient baronial families, the mormaers. In the Middle Ages, Scotland was embroiled in one power struggle after another: assassinations, usurpations, you name it. The mormaer Crovan built the doors to protect his family. But it seems that because of that deadly door, entering the castle became proof of good faith. So the Crovans became known as peace-brokers and deal-makers, and Eilean Dochais was used to exchange hostages during the endless mormaer disputes.
‘Then there’s the lake. The loch is infused with Skill and apparently causes excruciating pain to any who come into contact with it. So the prisoners can’t swim across – and the boat is kept on the far side of the lake. Given the sort of crimes the Condemned have committed, I daresay Crovan doesn’t worry too much about the local people developing sympathies and rowing over to get them.’
‘Could they build a boat?’ Renie wondered out loud. ‘I dunno, turn a table upside down and paddle across?’
‘That might be possible,’ Abi admitted. ‘Which all suggests he has other safeguards. Someone left in charge when he’s away. Or, like Meilyr said, he simply locks them all in cells.’
Or ties them up with collars and leashes.
‘One last thing,’ she said. ‘I have to come as well. Luke will probably recognize you, Dina. Especially if Meilyr’s there. Hopefully he’ll understand that it’s a rescue. But it’s possible Luke believes you used him to murder Zelston. He might even think you’re abducting him to kill him, to prevent Crovan seeing you as the Angel of the North in his memories. Who knows what state his mind will be in by now?
‘So I’ll come, too. The real Bouda would travel with an aide or assistant. That will be me. I’ll wait in the boat – but if anything goes wrong and Luke starts resisting, I’ll be there to reassure him straight away.’
‘And I’ll wait with the chopper,’ Renie announced. ‘Be a lookout. We’ll have Tilda’s headsets so we can be in touch.’ And that was it. Their plan. It was chancy, but they’d tested it from all angles and it could – should – work. Please let Meilyr agree, Abi thought. Every day knowing Luke was captive in that place was unbearable.
Meilyr pulled the two history books towards him; his fingers stroked the gilded edges of the pages contemplatively.
‘Let me think on it tonight,’ he said. ‘And talk to my mother. But I think you’re right – this feels like the best chance we’ve got. Renie, would you be brilliant and carry these books to my room for me?’
Nobody saw Meilyr the next morning, and Abi thought the suspense was going to finish her off. She couldn’t eat a mouthful of breakfast, her stomach was so knotted. She was sitting in the Great Hall staring with equal desperation at her lunch when the tap of a cane told her that Highwithel’s heir had arrived. His mother was on one side of him, Dina on the other.
‘It’s done,’ he said to Abi and the Club members present. ‘A message has been dispatched summoning Crovan to an emergency session of the Justice Council in two days’ time. Dina will call tomorrow morning to confirm that he has received it and is preparing to travel to London. When we know he’s leaving, we leave too. We’ll follow the same route Dina did when she took Oz and Jess to scope out the castle – up to Mallaig, then on to Eilean Dochais tomorrow evening.’
Abi’s mouth went dry. In thirty-six hours, she’d have Luke back. She pushed her plate away. She wouldn’t be able to eat another thing all day.
What would they do once reunited, both of them fugitives? Assuming they both made it out of this. There would be no pardons from Lord Jardine’s regime. Bouda Matravers would discover that her identity had been used as part of the imposture to free Luke, and would waste no time hunting them both down. Where could they go? They could hardly live here at Highwithel. Only one option seemed possible: to flee the country.
The Skilless nations of the Triad – Russia, France and the Union States of America – granted automatic asylum to those fleeing abusive Skilled regimes. Would one of them admit Luke and Abi? And their parents and Daisy would be free to travel abroad, even emigrate, once their days were done. Was this how it would end, with the Hadleys reunited and settled somewhere in small-town America, with new lives?
A life that wouldn’t have Jenner in it, because as one of Britain’s elite – despite having no Skill – he wouldn’t be permitted across US borders. But that was a sorrow for another day.
In the morning, Bodina confirmed that her call had been successful. A brief conversation with Crovan had revealed that he planned to depart after four o’clock. So Luke’s rescue was on for that evening, and Highwithel spun into action.
The Club’s data people were staying behind.
‘I guess we’ve gotta sit this one out, Doc,’ Hilda said.
‘But you keep those comms open in case there’s anything you need,’ Tilda added.
Asif and Meilyr exchanged a goodbye awkward even by the standard of man-hugs. Thanks to Meilyr’s pain and Asif’s jitters, there must have been a clear foot of air between them.
‘You tell your brother we can’t wait to see him,’ Tilda said. ‘And that the food here’s a whole lot better than back in Millmoor. That’ll get him hurrying.’
They chuckled, but Abi knew the sisters, too, would each be a bag of nerves until they were all safely back – and Luke with them.
And to finish it off, as the helicopter rose swiftly and smoothly away from the island with Dina at the controls, Abi discovered that she got airsick. Even the moment when Highwithel simply disappeared, as they reached its Skillful concealing boundary, was little distraction. Abi closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing exercises for the remainder of the flight, not wanting her stress to trigger a panic attack or flashback to the horrifying explosion at Kyneston. Sometimes it did. Occasionally, she
opened her eyes to see Renie watching her. Once, the kid reached over and squeezed her hand sympathetically.
She’d recovered sufficiently by the time Dina’s voice crackled over the headset announcing that they had crossed into Scotland, and Abi found she could look down. They had mostly flown north over the Irish Sea, but off to the right she could see the curve of the Scottish coast. How absurdly beautiful it was from the air. She could trace the course of rivers, the contours of hills. The colours were bright and fresh and clean.
And then, far off, something that wasn’t. A writhing ball of smoke, steam and fire. Carlisle’s shadow: Rockdale slavetown. It soiled the landscape around it.
Abi wanted to look away, but didn’t permit herself. Luke had been in a place like that for months. Somewhere worse than that. It was no wonder he had been spurred to protest. Abi vowed never to judge him for it again. In fact, as toxic gusts billowed up from Rockdale, for the first time she felt proud of her little brother’s choices.
They landed at Mallaig, refuelled and rested, and waited. Dina had already assumed the persona of her sister, wearing a formal dress and austere nude lipstick, her hair sleeked back in a ponytail. The transformation was almost flawless, even to Abi, who had seen the Matravers heir on numerous occasions at Kyneston.
She remembered coming round in the Great Solar at Kyneston, in the company of Jenner and his mother, an excruciating pain in her head. And Silyen in the library weeks later, explaining that she had witnessed a row between Bouda and Gavar, and Bouda had Silenced her for it. For such a small thing, to cut a swathe through Abi’s memory. Bouda Matravers embodied all that was worst about the Equals. Their unquestioning superiority and utter indifference to any who were not their own kind. Abi should judge Dina more gently. The Matravers sisters had grown up in the same environment, with the same opportunities, and yet how different Dina’s choices had been.
Jessica arrived, and briefed the four of them.
‘We never saw a helicopter take off,’ Jess said anxiously. ‘He should have gone by now. That’s why Oz stayed there, to watch.’
That didn’t sound good. Was their plan derailed before it had barely begun?
‘You wouldn’t see it,’ said Meilyr. ‘Remember when you came to Highwithel – and when you left. How the island just disappears from the air? There are ways of Skillfully hiding comings and goings.’
And the alarm that had bubbled up inside Abi died back down again.
‘The boat is on the opposite side of the loch from where you’ll land,’ Jess said.
‘Not a problem.’ Dina batted away the information with a flick of her hand. Her mannerisms, voice, were all changing. It was disconcerting – but also reassuring. Luke’s freedom depended on the conviction of this performance.
‘Why’s it kept there?’ Renie asked. The kid always had 101 questions. ‘A bit inconvenient for Crovan, isn’t it?’
‘It’s for food supplies,’ Jess said. ‘So it’s on the side closest to the nearest village. Goes back and forth a couple of times a week, just like Highwithel – which was how Abi found us, remember? You’re more like your brother than you think, Abi.’
The woman squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. And wasn’t that a novel experience – being compared to her brother, with the comparison intended to flatter. Pride warmed Abi from the inside out.
They had set their departure time for 6 p.m., just as the light would be fading, which gave them another half hour. Meilyr and Dina had stepped away, perhaps to discuss a few last things, while the other three chatted. Abi slipped into the corridor of the little airfield’s departure lounge to find the loo for the second time (because really, if anything justified needing an anxiety wee, this whole situation did) and saw them standing there, silhouetted against the glass.
Dina was leaning into Meilyr’s chest, her head was tucked under his chin, and one of his arms was around her.
‘Thank you for doing this,’ Abi heard Meilyr say softly. ‘You mean the world to me. Always have.’
‘Nothing’s changed,’ Dina replied, with a fierceness that was all her own. ‘First we get Luke back. Then we fix you.’
The Equal girl went up on tiptoe and wound both arms around his neck and kissed him. As Meilyr’s palm cupped her face, the kiss went on.
Abi looked away and retreated, letting the door close soundlessly. She’d try again in five minutes, opening it really noisily this time.
That was the problem with Equals. They were cruel autocrats filled with unimaginable power.
But they were also just human.
By the time they got back in the helicopter, Abi was about ready to puke with nerves. Was this how Luke had felt, when he had played those ‘games’ for the Club that Renie talked about? She used to think ‘courage’ was a reckless, slightly stupid thing. She understood it a little better now. It was doing what was right, even when every shred of self-preservation screamed against it.
Would Luke recognize the rescue for what it was, and be able to play along with it? Abi desperately hoped her brother’s mind wasn’t already broken, so he’d be able to understand what was happening. But she remembered the state of Dog and had to concede that it might be too late for that.
She looked down at the small coil of cable in her lap. An earpiece, to connect her to Renie back on shore if there was any alert. Meilyr was also mic’d up. Abi and Renie would be able to hear every word.
Then as Dina banked the helicopter, there it was: Eilean Dochais. She’d seen many images of it in the course of her research: from foxed watercolour plates, to line engravings, to the high-res satellite photographs that Tilda had turned up on some restricted database.
But she had never imagined it would be this stunning. Evening’s approach had stretched the sun’s rays, and the loch glittered and sparkled. The arrow slit windows were like golden wounds in the black hide of the castle, dripping fiery blood. How could so beautiful a place hide such evil?
The chopper settled on its runners and they were out, ducking under the blades that whirred to a halt. Renie gave a small salute as the three of them set off. Dina grumbled about the impossibility of walking on heather in Bouda-style power heels, and Meilyr laughed at her.
She had no more luck on the loch shore, her shoes sinking into the fine gravel. But by this time, she was more Bouda Matravers than Bodina, and said nothing as she closed her eyes – and reached out – and -
The boat rounded the far side of the island, gliding towards them. It nudged the shore. After the stories she’d read about the waters of Loch nan Deur, Abi was glad to see sturdy handrails on the boat’s side. The thwarted med student in her was curious about the water’s pain-imparting properties, but now really wasn’t the time to investigate.
Meilyr clambered on board with great difficulty. It was plain that the journey had taken a terrible toll. The helicopter’s vibrations must have exacerbated his pain. His cane clattered against the railings as he used both hands to haul himself up. Abi looked away as Dina reached down to help him.
Then the boat moved off and Abi stared up at the castle. She didn’t expect to see Luke’s face at a window looking down at her, of course. And there hardly were any windows. But just knowing her little brother was in there somewhere, so close, made her heart sing.
Steps rose from the waterline near the front of the castle, and Abi looked up at the two doors that greeted them. Both were closed. The inscription above was hard to read without her glasses, but the books had told her what it said. Omnes vulnerant, ultima necat.
All hours wound, the last one kills.
Abi shuddered, and set about securing the boat. She was pretty inept, but from here on in, Dina was Bouda, and there was no way Bouda Matravers would risk breaking a nail by performing servants’ work.
‘Don’t forget,’ Abi whispered, as the pair disembarked. ‘Stay outside. Don’t go in. We don’t know the truth about those doors, and it’s not worth taking chances.’
Then the two of them were off up the
steps. Abi positioned herself near a rocky outcropping, where she was mostly concealed, but had a good view of the left-hand door. She touched a finger to her earpiece, and heard Renie whisper ‘Good luck’, and some faint heavy breathing that could only have been Tilda or Hilda listening in from Highwithel.
The great door had no visible handle or other means of opening it. Dina rapped on it once. Twice. The she stepped back and straightened her shoulders, sleeking her ponytail as Abi had seen Bouda do.
Abi’s heart stopped in her chest when the door creaked inwards. She could just about see what was going on, but the sounds of it were horribly magnified through her receiver.
‘May I help you?’ said a man at the door, politely. From what Abi could see, he was young-ish and clad in a smart suit. Some kind of butler?
‘I am Heir Bouda of Appledurham, Secretary of the Justice Council. This is Heir Meilyr of Highwithel, another council member. I know that your master left a few hours ago. It is frustrating that we were unable to reach him – our departures must have almost coincided. It would have saved me a journey.’
Abi could almost imagine Bouda’s disdainful expression as Dina spoke. She was good at this. Meilyr extended his hand so that the man could inspect the Tresco signet ring he wore, confirming his identity.
‘We are here for the Condemned prisoner, Luke Hadley. Chancellor Whittam wishes Lord Arailt to examine him in full council, so that we can see what progress has been made in the investigation.’
‘I . . . see.’ The man sounded uncertain, hesitant. Abi exulted. This was exactly how they’d imagined it. Perhaps Dina was even exerting a little Skillful persuasion on him, if she didn’t consider that a violation of her principles. ‘Let me just go check. I need to consult. Wait here a moment, please.’
He turned away from the door, and in Abi’s ear Renie let out a low exhalation and a ‘Niiiiice.’
Excruciating moments passed, then Abi saw two new figures arrive. They stood back in the entryway and were almost entirely in darkness, but was one of them about Luke’s size?