For a moment Mrs Howser sat there, looking stunned and shocked that events should have come to this. For a moment. In the next, her body shook as she desiccated on the steps of the Dentate. Howser’s body capsized like a vacuum-sealed bag, sucking her ever inward as her cheeks hollowed, her eyes sank and her body shrivelled. Accelerated ageing turned her limbs into virtual sticks, clothes merely hanging in place, wafting in the breeze. Her lifeless body collapsed, her skeleton no longer supported with life-giving muscle. All that remained was a pile of powder and crumpled clothes.
A breeze picked up the bone dust, swirling it into the sky, leaving nothing but a few clothes and a smear of ash on the Dentate steps.
“And I love ye lass,” Hamish said from where he lay on the steps, breathing hard and holding his hand out to her.
Melody quickly draped Mrs Howser’s abandoned cloak over him for modesty.
Ondine and Hamish celebrated with lush kisses and more tears, but these were tears of happiness. The cheers from the crowd lifted their spirits as high as the stars.
When they stopped kissing – this took a few minutes – Ondine looked out at the crowds before them. People were hugging and kissing each other with victory, cheering and yelling and throwing cold cheeseballs into the air.
The cadets who had formed Mrs Howser’s dark army were not as cheery. If anything, they looked confused and upset, as if they’d woken from a particularly hideous dream. Ondine’s gaze alighted on a familiar female cadet. Previously she’d appeared battle-hardened and strong. Now she stood, leaning against the wall, her arms wrapped around her torso, weeping copiously. “I tried to resist, but it was so strong, I couldn’t fight it!”
“Melody, I think she’ll need your help,” Ondine said.
“Aye,” Hamish added, as he took in the scene of celebrating citizens and confused cadets. “We have a lot of people affected by magic who won’t know what to do with it.”
“Too right,” Melody jogged down the stairs towards the upset cadets, holding her arms out for an embrace. To let them know they too had been under a curse, but there was a way back.
From the corner of her eye, Ondine saw Vincent stepping away from them. Quick as a flash she blocked him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Chapter Twenty-One
A hush fell over the crowd. Those in cadet uniforms sat down, exhausted. They took their helmets off and rubbed their heads or necks, trying to make sense of the world.
The dark army Mrs Howser had created stood (or more accurately, sat) defeated. Demoralised.
Vincent stood nearby on the Dentate steps, unmoving. “Thank you. Howser was becoming a liability.”
Panic flooded Ondine. Would he make a run for it? Would he escape the punishment he so sorely needed? Wait, what? “I don’t want you thanking me,” Ondine said.
“We are not on your side!” Melody spun around, hands balling into fists.
“Of course you are.” Vincent took a step closer, his palms up in what could look like surrender. As if. “You’re my main witch. We’re going to rule Brugel, we’re going to form an alliance with Slaegal and become the most powerful nation in Eastern Europe.
“I’m not your anything,” Melody said. “You used me. And against my better judgement I let you.”
It all sounded far too personal to be discussed in such a public theatre, but Ondine was in no position to interfere. Yes, she wanted to smack Vincent on the head, but Hamish needed her. He’d nearly died and although he’d come around, his skin had a grey marbled sheen to it instead of healthy pink.
“Oh lass, I’m so sorry. I wish things had turned out different.”
She pulled her sleeve down over her wrist so she could wipe his perspiring brow. He needed to go home and rest, but she lacked the strength herself to get him feet-wards. Plus Melody had come back to face-off with Vincent. Ondine wanted to see how things would turn out between them.
“Without Howser, you’re nothing,” Melody said.
“I still have you,” he said, getting close enough to gently tuck a stray lock of her hair over her ear.
“No, you don’t.” Melody pushed his hand away. “You’re finished.”
The image on the big screen flickered to life again. The video was from events that took place almost a year ago. There were three men in the picture. One was handed an envelope bulging with cash, then they all shook hands. One of them had a blue hand.
“My camera!” Ondine leapt to her feet in delight.
“Boak!” Hamish’s head tumbled from her lap and he splayed out on the steps.
“Oh my darling, I’m so sorry!” She rushed to cradle him. “But look, look what’s playing on the big screen. It’s from when Vincent and Babak were bribing Valentin to distract Anathea into giving up the throne! Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yes hen.”
Wait a second. “Who is doing that?” Ondine asked Melody.
“Alexei,” Melody said with a too-wide grin.
“Aye, he’s a good lad that one,” Hamish muttered.
“I’ll say,” Melody beamed.
As the crowd watched the image play and replay, they began to boo and heckle.
“You’ve got a lot of grovelling to do Vincent,” Melody said.
“I’m sorry. Is that what you want? An apology? OK then.” Vincent said, “I’m sorry that I knew I was the only one who could give Brugel stability and was brave enough to step up.”
“Oh come on!” Melody said.
Vincent’s face puffed red. Bits of spittle flew from his mouth. “I’m sorry you got hurt along the way, but that’s just how things turned out. Without me, Brugel is nothing.”
“You really suck at apologies,” Melody said, stirring up a ball of magic out of thin air, then flinging it at him. A strap of blue plaster slapped over his mouth, leaving a small breathing hole so he didn’t suffocate.
Ondine couldn’t believe her friend’s restraint. “If I had your power, it would involve a hedgehog going somewhere tender. Sideways.”
“That would be unkind to hedgehogs,” Melody said, sending another blast of magic Vincent-wards.
He ducked and the ball of energy exploded, showering sparks over him and setting fire to his hair. Frantically he slapped at his scalp to put it out, but there was so much gel in there it only fanned the flames. He ripped the tape off his mouth. “Get it out!” He screamed in panic.
A flick of Melody’s wrist and a bathload of icy water tipped over his head.
The crowd cheered and hooted their applause.
Shivering from cold and fury, Vincent rounded on Melody. “Seize her!” He yelled.
To whom?
Anyone, anyone?
Looking around, Ondine couldn’t see a single person leaping to Vincent’s rescue. There were a few cadets still hanging around. Sad, dejected cadets who had marched with Mrs Howser. Now that her spell over them was gone, they were creasing their foreheads and wondering what they were doing out in the streets at night.
“It’s over Vincent,” Melody stood toe to toe with him. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”
“Same here sista,” Ondine said.
A shuddering sound came through on the wind. Staccato and rhythmic, like a ceiling fan cutting through the air. It grew louder and closer. A fresh spotlight fell on Vincent, from a helicopter, hovering into view. A rope ladder unfurled beside Vincent. He wrapped his arms around it and stepped up, climbing higher.
The crowd surged towards him, darting past Hamish and Ondine on the steps, pushing Melody aside in their efforts to grab Vincent. They were too late. The helicopter lifted Vincent above their grasping hands.
A woman with orange skin looked down at them through the open helicopter door. Her blonde wig flew off and fluttered to the ground.
The crowd burst into song, which involved a lot of ‘na-na-nanas’ and ended with ‘goodbye.’ Nobody was sad to see Vincent go.
“You
didn’t finish him awff?” Hamish groaned as he got to his feet.
“Oh, he’s finished. Utterly,” Melody said. “He’s stuck with Babak and Ruslana in the heli. They’ll probably take him to exile in Haute Montagne.”
“Where’s that?” Ondine scratched her head for a mental Atlas.
“In the mountains.” Melody shrugged, but her smile betrayed a secret delight. “It snows a lot. When it’s not snowing, it’s raining.”
The crowds were still here, staggering about, aimless. Like the born leader she was, Melody set off sparks into the sky like fireworks. Showering the air with goodwill and love. The revolutionaries had a new focus: celebrations.
“Lord Vincent and Mrs Howser are gone. Brugel is once again free.” Natalia Cebotari appeared with a microphone. Ondine hadn’t seen any speakers located anywhere, but the former First Minister’s voice rang out anyway. “Good magic has prevailed. Brugel belongs to the Brugelese!”
Politicians eh? Ondine thought. So keen to step into the spotlight the moment they got a chance. Quietly she turned to Hamish. “If I never see another politician or duke or duchess again, it will be too soon.”
“As of this moment,” Natalia declared, “All political prisoners or those charged with being out after curfew will be set free!”
The crowd erupted with cheers and began to chant, “No more Vincent, no more Vincent!”
“And another thing. The curfew is rescinded!” Natalia yelled over the screaming.
People hooted, clapped, stamped their feet, whistled, yelled and hollered.
Alexei appeared, racing up the steps towards Melody. They locked together, Melody kissed him all over his face.
Hamish looked at Ondine and winked.
Ondine nodded her assent. “Melody deserves a happy ending.”
“As do we lass. Now, what’s a lad got tae do around here tae get a lift home?”
An impromptu party erupted around them. Sensing a profit, fried cheeseball traders pulled their vans into the street, along with people selling all sorts of drinks by the cup. Euphoria filled the streets and people burst into song, turning Battlefront’s Anthem into a song for the people. Refuse bins were piled together to make a bonfire. Cadets, now free from their dark magic spell, emptied their weapons and threw them onto the flames.
None too steady on his feet, Hamish leaned against Ondine for support. “Thank ye lass.”
“We’d best get home, yeah?” Ondine beamed. “A good meal and a solid sleep is just what you need. And maybe some of Melody’s magic.”
Melody and Alexei were so busy kissing they probably didn’t even notice the chaos around them.
“Awww so nice,” Hamish said.
“Yeah. Let’s leave them to it. They’ll come home when they’re ready.”
They shuffle-walked down a laneway into Savo Plaza, stopping from time to time for Hamish to get his breath back. “Naw lass, I’m fine, let’s keep going.”
“I can barely support you as it is. If we keep going and you pass out on me, neither of us will get home.”
Home, where Ondine could deliver the good news tinged with bad.
“I’m nawt likely to pass out,” Hamish said.
Oh really? Ondine moved towards a bench, then shifted her weight just enough to make Hamish support himself. His knees immediately buckled and he slipped into the seat.
“That was uncalled for, lass,” Hamish said.
A current of people moved around them, spreading the festive spirit through the streets of Savo Plaza and the steps of the Dentate. Getting Hamish through them would be tricky at best.
“Rest right here, I’ll get you cheeseballs and something to drink.”
He obeyed her to the letter, his eyes fluttering shut as the rest of him slumped onto the bench. Any moment now he’d be snoring. Good. Checking the crowd, she found people towards the right side of the street were moving towards Savo Plaza, while on the left they were heading out to the Dentate. She stepped into the current and made her way into the Plaza, where she scanned the crowds, the shops and the stage for her sisters and their men. She’d last seen Margi and Belle just behind the stage.
People were pelting the statue of Vincent with eggs, while other more sensible folk had set up a first-aid station and a makeshift treatment area. Jupiter’s moons, please let them all be all right.
Scanning the patients, Ondine staggered in shock. Four patients, all very familiar. Thomas, Henrik, Cybelle and Marguerite sat on a blanket. Racing to them, her heart beating faster than her ears could hear it, she screamed out, “Are you all right?” She reached them, relieved to find them unbloodied and otherwise healthy. “Why are you here in the –” the rest of Ondine’s words vanished on the breeze as Margi sucked a fast breath through closed teeth.
“It’s not coming now, is it?” Ondine felt sick with fear at the thought. Out here, in Savo plaza, on the cold cobblestones! That’s no place to give birth!
Pale face, dark hair sticking to her forehead with perspiration, Margi looked up and nodded.
“No. You’re not having it here,” Ondine said. “I’ll get help. Stay here.”
“You just said she’s not having it here,” Belle said.
“Not right now. I’ll be back in a minute with Melody, Alexei and Hamish.”
Turning around, who should she run into but Hamish, one arm over Melody, the other over Alexei. “How did you kn –”
“You were screaming loud enough in your head.” Melody grinned.
“Right.” Ondine went into organising mode. There was a baby coming! “OK, Henrik and Alexei, you get Hamish back home. Melody, stay with me and put some magic on Margi so she doesn’t deliver in the street. Belle, keep Margi calm. Thomas, you and I are going to cross arms and make a seat so we can carry Margi back home.”
Melody yanked Ondine by the collar and pulled her in closely, then dropped her voice. “I don’t have magic to stop a baby coming.”
“That’s OK,” Ondine kept her voice doubly low. “She just needs to think you do.”
“Gotcha.” Melody suffused the air with gold and blue glitter and sparkles that smelled vaguely of oranges and vanilla. It had a calming effect as Cybelle helped Margi to her feet, then into the makeshift seat Ondine and Thomas created with their linked hands.
“Keep that magic coming, it’s lovely,” Margi said, leaning on to Thomas’s shoulder. She sucked in another breath and curled into the pain. As much as she could curl into that enormous stomach of hers.
Ondine said, “You’re going to be fine, Margi.” The lie came so easily she nearly believed it. “I doubt an ambulance can get through this crowd. We’ll be home in a minute and we’ll call an ambulance from there. Tell you what, Belle, why don’t you run on ahead and make the call?”
“On it,” Cybelle gave Ondine a salute and raced on ahead.
“Keep that wonderful magic coming,” Ondine urged Melody.
Curlicues of pink smoke filled her vision as something seeped into her brain. It made Ondine calmer, her heart rate steadied. Her arms, on the other hand, burned from the strain. “Hey Melody, have you got anything up your magic sleeves to make me stronger? Sister here is heavy!”
“Got an extra life-form on board.” Margi protested.
“You’re doing great and I love you to pieces,” Thomas said, giving her a messy kiss on the forehead as they marched over the cobbled streets towards the family pub.
From Melody’s twirling hands and wiggling fingers came a ribbon of gold, sparkling around everybody, infusing Ondine with a cool sense of recovery. Her muscles had turned to hot blocks of wood, but the magic flowed through and big Margi miraculously lightened in her arms.
“We’re nearly there,” Melody said, spritzing them with fresh magic. “Almost home.”
The sight of The Duke and Ferret hotel was like a refreshing drink. Arms and legs burning with the strain, Ondine couldn’t wait to put her sister down.
A spasm clutched at Margi just as they reached the door to the pu
b.
Ma came charging out the front. “Oh my baby, my baby! You’re having a baby!”
How clever, Ondine thought, for her mother to state the obvious. At least now they had extra people to help. In fact, there were people everywhere, holding the doors open, holding Margi’s hand, making soothing noises and promising that an ambulance would arrive.
Arms aching from all the effort, Ondine stayed out on the footpath for a moment, rubbing her tired arms and catching her breath after all the excitement. So much had happened tonight, so much adrenaline had coursed through her veins she was likely to fall down if she didn’t lean against the wall for support.
Her stomach plummeted when a police car pulled up to the kerb and two Fort Kluff cadets got out of the car.
“Ondine de Groot?” The female cadet asked, walking closer.
Ondine was about to say “Now what?” When she suddenly recognised the cadet. The scary-fit woman who could destroy all she encountered. The one who, perhaps a half-hour ago, had looked so distraught after Mrs Howser’s dark magic spell wore off.
“My name’s Raluca Pflugg. I wanted to help. This is the only way I know how. And I want to say sorry,” she said, extending a hand to Ondine.
Scared of potential reprisals, Ondine extended her hand. But then her attention moved to the other cadet, who opened the passenger door.
Da stepped out. He made a few grunts as he did so, but he was able to step out of the car unassisted.
“Da!” Ondine cried. She pushed Raluca aside and ran to her father, grabbing him in a firm hug.
“Ooof, gentle,” Da said.
There wasn’t as much of him as she remembered. Less padding around the middle, more gristle, but it was her wonderful Da in her arms nevertheless. In one piece. Otherwise healthy. Tears blurred her vision. “I’m so glad you’re out. And you’re safe.”
“We came as soon as we could,” Raluca said from somewhere behind Ondine. “When Ms Cebotari said all curfew prisoners were to be freed, I remembered your speech. About how your Dad had been charged and, um, we went and brought him home.”
Stepping back to take in her father’s face – grey whiskers had infiltrated his marvellous black eyebrows – Ondine smiled anew. “I missed you so much.”
The Ondine Collection Page 81