by Sharon Sant
‘Thank you,’ he replied in a mocking voice with a deep bow.
In her apron pocket, Polly’s fingers tightened around the vial she always kept with her. It looked as though she would need the help of her sleeping potion again soon. She seemed to recall making a promise to Isaac only that morning which involved employing the contents of that very same infamous bottle. It only served to remind her of the fear for him that twisted her gut. What had the idiot gone and done now?
With Ernesto snoring lightly, Polly pulled a shawl around her and headed out into the chilly evening. Taking Chester was too risky – he would make too much noise as he was led out – she would have to walk, and at a fair pace if she was going to get back before Ernesto woke and missed her. Striding through the courtyard, her gaze was drawn to the cellar door, now in shadow. Annie had stopped hammering on the door hours ago, but every so often Polly would pass and hear her whimper or cry softly. Without incurring the wrath of Ernesto, there was little Polly could do to help her. Shortly after dinner, she had pushed a bag containing bread crusts and an apple through the metal grille on the ground outside the door, underneath which the room at the bottom of the cellar steps lay. It was as much as she dared do for the time being. Whether Annie had found the food or not, she had no idea. All was silent for now, and Polly made her way out of the gates undetected.
Ernesto had remained tight-lipped about Isaac’s whereabouts and Polly hadn’t dared ask him, so she had done her best to piece the puzzle together herself. She could only assume that Isaac had somehow fallen foul of Ernesto’s temper at some point during their errand together because he had disagreed with something Ernesto was doing. And as Isaac had lived with the man for many years, he was immune to any personal insult, which meant that it had to be some moral objection on someone else’s behalf. And the only thing Polly could think of was Ernesto taking Georgina from the home of the Hardings. Isaac always did have a hero streak in him, Polly reflected ruefully. She always warned it would get him into trouble. Perhaps the
Hardings would know what had happened to Isaac? Though she didn’t relish the idea of returning there, Polly didn’t see she had a choice if she was to get to the bottom of the mystery.
Some hours later Polly stood outside the door of the tiny white cottage, her heart beating madly. The sudden feeling of despair that gripped her had taken her completely by surprise. What if they didn’t know where Isaac was? What if she never saw him again? She had always been fond of Isaac – they had grown up together, after all – but this was something she’d never felt before. Smoothing her dress, Polly took a deep breath and knocked.
‘You…’ Mrs Harding glared at Polly as the door opened.
‘I’m sure I ain’t popular with you right now, but I need to find someone and I think you might know where he is,’ Polly replied quickly.
‘You are the reason that man visited us and took Georgina, I presume?’ Polly didn’t see any point in lying now. She nodded. ‘What could we possibly have to say to you now?’ Mrs Harding retorted coldly. ‘You’re lucky I don’t fetch the magistrate.’
‘What would you have me locked up for?’ Polly shot back. Belligerence wasn’t going to help her but there was little she could do to stop it coming out. ‘It weren’t your baby either.’
‘What do you want?’
‘I told you, I’m looking for my friend.’
‘Why would your friend be here?’
‘Because he came with the man who took Georgina and he ain’t come home again. I thought it was a good place to start.’
At once, Mrs Harding’s expression softened. It made Polly’s stomach lurch. She knew that look. It was the same look that had preceded every bit of tragic news she had ever been subjected to in her short life.
‘You’d better step in,’ Mrs Harding said, moving back from the door.
Polly followed her into the kitchen. Charlotte’s head snapped up from a pot she was stirring on the stove and she shot her mother a questioning look. Mrs Harding merely gave her head a warning shake. A makeshift bed lay in front of the fireplace. On it was a grey-faced, unconscious Isaac. Polly’s hand flew to her mouth.
‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘Your gentleman friend threw him across the room. He hit his head and hasn’t gained consciousness since.’
Polly stared at Mrs Harding. ‘Has he been tended to?’
‘We’ve had a doctor out. There is little that can be done for him now but to ease his passing.’
‘Ease his passing?’ Polly repeated.
‘He has bleeding on his brain. I’m sorry, but he’s going to die.’
Polly felt as though someone had stripped the bones from her legs. She dropped into a seat at the table and stared at Isaac. None of this made sense. Isaac couldn’t die. This was Isaac, who had always been there for her, no matter what she did.
‘No!’ Polly cried. ‘You’re lying!’
‘I’m so sorry.’
Polly shot from her chair. ‘You’re lying! You’re lying to get revenge. I tell you, I can’t bring the baby back now, so you can just stop!’
‘We know Georgina didn’t belong to us. My mother would never do something so low,’ Charlotte cut in. ‘Shouting at her will not help.’
‘No,’ growled Polly, ‘but it will make me feel better...’ She flew over to the bed and dropped to her knees. ‘Isaac, you clotpole! Get up!’ She raised her hand to slap his face and Charlotte dived to grab it.
‘What are you doing?’
‘He’s foolin’! He ain’t dying, he’s asleep. Water…. That’ll wake him. I’ll throw a bucket over him…’
‘Celia, stop!’ Charlotte cried.
Polly stared at her. Then she started to laugh. ‘Celia… that’s a good ‘un ain’t it?’
Charlotte looked helplessly at her mother as Polly’s laughter became louder still, until she suddenly buried her face in her hands and began to sob. Charlotte leant down and gently pulled Polly up to stand. ‘Sit at the table and let me get you a warm drink.’
Polly sniffed hard as she looked up and nodded. ‘I ain’t cryin’ over him. I’m just tired; I’ve come a long way.’
‘It’s late,’ Mrs Harding agreed. ‘I cannot allow you to go back on the heath this time; it’s too dangerous.’
‘I have to. Ernesto will miss me when he wakes and there’s no tellin’ what he’ll do then.’
Charlotte placed a cup in front of Polly. ‘Who is this Ernesto?’
‘Not someone you want to mess with,’ Polly replied darkly. Her gaze was drawn to Isaac again. For a moment she was mesmerised by his erratic breathing and she watched it, her own breathing somehow falling into step as she willed his to regulate. But nothing changed. He was dying – any idiot could see that. ‘What happened?’ she asked quietly, never moving her eyes from him.
‘Your friend – Isaac – tried to stop him from taking Georgina. He was knocked out of the way and hit his head. He never moved after that. We called Dr Weston as soon as we could but it was as we had feared… there was nothing Dr Weston could do for him. We’ve made him as comfortable as we can until the time comes.’
‘He’ll be alright,’ Polly insisted. ‘He’s Isaac. He’s always alright…. Only the other day he gets a clout round the head from a robber, and he’s up the next mornin’ right as rain.’
‘Not this time,’ Mrs Harding said gently. ‘It would take a miracle this time.’
A miracle…
Polly straightened suddenly. A miracle. There was a miracle locked in the cellar of Ernesto’s house. Maybe there was hope. She leapt from the chair.
‘I got to go. Don’t let him die.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Charlotte began.
‘I know who can help. I just got to get her.’
Before anyone could stop her, Polly had yanked open the door and was running across the heath. There was a miracle locked up at Ernesto’s house alright. But it was going to take another miracle to get her out of that cellar.
Letting herself in at the kitchen door, Polly sneaked towards the staircase. Ernesto’s study door was ajar and a lamp still burned, but all was quiet. She wondered whether to look in, but dared not risk it, so she waited a little longer. If he had been awake, she would have heard the sound of his quill scribbling, or his glass tumbler clinking on its matching silver tray as he drank, but she heard nothing. Perhaps he was still asleep after all. She had thought that she might have spend precious moments explaining where she had been, all the while Isaac’s life slowly leaving him, but perhaps, for the first time, fate was smiling on her. Turning on her heel, she went out the way she had come and headed for the cellar.
‘Annie,’ she whispered loudly as she tapped on the door. ‘Are you awake?’
‘Yes, I’m awake.’ The tiny voice came from the other side of the wood.
‘I’m goin’ to let you out, but I don’t want you makin’ a fuss. Got that?’
‘I only want Georgina and I’ll go, quiet as you like. You’ll never see us again.’
Polly bit her lip. ‘I can’t let you do that… not yet.’
‘I have to. Ernesto will have her killed.’
‘He’d never do that. Ern might be many things, but he ain’t a child killer.’
‘He won’t do the killing, but he might as well if he hands her over to the Brethren.’
Polly’s eyebrows knit together. ‘You know about that?’
‘I heard him one night, talking to someone. That’s why I hid her. And then you –’
‘Alright, alright, I was wrong,’ Polly cut in. ‘You don’t know how persuasive old Ern can be.’
‘You’ll help me?’
‘If you help me first.’
‘What is it?’
‘Swear you’ll do it.’
‘I can’t till I know what it is.’
‘Then I can’t let you out and Georgina will be lost in the morning.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Swear you’ll do it first, then we come back and get your sister.’
There was a brief silence from the other side of the door. ‘Alright,’ Annie said finally. ‘What do you need me to do?’
‘I need your magic.’
‘I told you, I don’t –’
‘I know you do, so don’t play that game with me. Now’s not the time. You think Isaac’s leg mended itself that night in the jail? You think I don’t know that them guards were asleep because of you? If you don’t come Isaac will die.’
‘Come where?’
‘To the cottage where you left Georgina.’
Annie paused. ‘That’s hours away. Georgina will be gone when we get back.’
‘That’s the deal.’
‘No,’ Annie said, her tone hardening. ‘I like Isaac, you know I do, but she is my sister. I have to save her first.’
‘I don’t see as you can do much saving from a locked cellar.’
‘I don’t see as you can do much for Isaac with fake magic.’
Polly couldn’t help the tight smile that spread across her face. ‘You’re not as weak-willed as you pretend, are you?’
‘Let me out and help me find Georgina. We can take her with us. I’ll do what I can for Isaac then.’
Polly sighed. ‘I’ll get the keys.’
A few moments later she returned. ‘Annie,’ she called quietly through the door. ‘I can’t find the keys. Ern must have moved them in case I came looking.’
There was a muffled sob from behind the door.
‘No point in cryin’,’ Polly said with a scowl. ‘Can’t you use your magic to get out?’
‘It don’t work like that, not for me. I need help. I channel my magic through animals and I can heal, but I can’t unlock locked doors with it.’
‘You got us out of jail.’
‘I had help… from some mice.’
Polly raised her eyebrows but decided it was probably better not to scoff. She needed Annie as much as Annie needed her right now. ‘Ain’t there no mice in the cellar you can ask?’
‘I would need to tell them where the key is.’
Polly let her head fall to the wood of the door with a groan. ‘What do we do now?’
‘Chester!’ Annie said suddenly. ‘Chester could kick the door in.’
‘It would make too much noise.’ There was silence from behind the door again. ‘Perhaps,’ Polly said, breaking the quiet, ‘if we get Georgina first, we can let Chester kick the door in and we’ll be ready to make a run for it if Ernesto wakes.’
‘You’d run with us?’
‘To save Isaac, yes.’
‘What about Ernesto’s fortune?’
Polly sighed. ‘It don’t seem quite as shiny as it used to.’
Annie was quiet again for a moment. ‘Go and find Georgina then,’ she said finally.
Polly searched the house but there was no sign of Georgina or the missing cellar keys. There was only one place left to look for either, apart from Ernesto’s study, and Polly wasn’t about to go crashing in disturbing what must be a very light sleep by now. Besides which, she couldn’t imagine for a moment that Georgina was in there – when Polly had left him sleeping he had been alone in his study and she couldn’t imagine he had woken at any point during her absence in order to move Georgina in there. What she had given him was likely to knock Chester off his feet, let alone a man, at least for a couple of hours anyway.
Polly had only been into the ‘wolf den’, as Ernesto liked to call it, on three occasions during the entire time she had lived with him. Each time, even though they were behind bars, the way they stared at her with their cold, dead eyes filled her with dread. When she had asked him where they came from and why he kept them, he had simply given her a warning glare that told her not to ask again. This part of the house – a building tagged onto the back, far away enough to avoid the scent of the wolves spooking Chester in his stables – was a part that only Ernesto himself ever visited. What he did in there none of them knew, but Polly and Isaac had often commented over the years that he was just a little too fond of his pet beasts. They had to assume that Ernesto himself somehow cleaned their cage and fed them on a regular basis – an unlikely scenario to anyone who knew Ernesto Black, but the only explanation for their upkeep. Though, neither Polly nor Isaac had ever witnessed him doing these tasks either and had commented many times on just what dangerous and seemingly impossible tasks they were. In light of what she had now learned about Annie’s powers, it raised the question of whether Ernesto himself had a similar type of magic. If so, he had chosen to keep it a secret, even from them. Perhaps he was as afraid of the way magic was viewed as Annie. In many ways, it all made perfect sense. What better cover for him than to turn in others with magic?
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy iron door. It creaked and scraped on its hinges, cracking the silence of the night. Polly paused for a moment, but when no movement came from the house, she continued to open the door. From within, Polly could hear the scuffles and clicks of claws on stone and panting jaws, could smell the stench of old meat and sweating, furry bodies. Holding up a lantern, she wrinkled her nose and peered through the gloom.
Ref
lecting the light of the lamp, yellow eyes stared back at her. Polly couldn’t decide whether it was the eyes or the absolute stillness and quiet with which they watched her, almost as if they were intelligently weighing her up, that made her most uneasy. A dog would have barked and growled and leapt about, but they did none of this.
Polly wasn’t quite sure what she had expected to see. A cage within the cage – Georgina captive like a prize specimen at the zoo? But as her eyes raked the gloom, she saw no sign of the little girl at all, only the wolves, pacing in silence, their collective gaze fixed intently on her. She knew that there was a key hook in here, where Ernesto sometimes kept keys for his cash boxes and such like when he was feeling particularly distrusting, but this was oddly empty too.
Every second that Polly searched with no result filled her with renewed dread for Isaac’s condition. Running back to the cellar, she called through the door, all consideration for secrecy forgotten.
‘Annie! Georgina has already gone.’
There was silence.
‘Annie?’
‘I’m here,’ Annie replied in a small voice. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘We need Isaac.’
‘I can’t go to Isaac knowing that Georgina is out there somewhere in terrible danger.’
‘It’s the only way. He might know where Ern was plannin’ to take her. But he ain’t goin’ to tell us if he’s dead.’
‘This is a trick…’
‘It ain’t a trick! You got to trust me.’
‘Trust you? But you was the one who told Dr Black where to find my sister!’
Polly bit her lip. ‘I know…’ she said quietly, leaning her forehead on the door. ‘I know I did. But I never meant all this to happen.’
‘You don’t care about my sister, you just want Isaac back.’
‘I ain’t goin’ to lie, that’s part truth. But I don’t want to see the little ‘un lost to the Brethren.’
There was a sharp breath from behind the door. ‘You know about them, what they do?’
‘I heard enough to know they ain’t having her over for tea and crumpets. But the only way you’ll get her back now is if we find out where they are. And as no one hardly knows anything about them, the only thing we got left to do is ask Ernesto himself or Isaac. I don’t fancy my chances with Ern, do you?’