Storm Child

by Sharon Sant

  Time passed. None of them could tell how long. Isaac grew increasingly restless and far from being exhausted by his recent ordeal, he seemed full of nervous energy and ready for more action. Polly spoke in short, terse sentences, mostly to tell Isaac to sit down or shut up or resume his watch at the window. Whenever Isaac did return to the window it was only to report that the wolves were still sitting outside and he couldn’t understand for the life of him what they were waiting for. Charlotte was quiet, her thoughts absorbed by Annie’s perilous condition, her mother waiting for her with not a clue whether she was alive or dead, and Georgina swinging in a cage down below them. Would she think she had been abandoned? Would the other children think that too? And what if some of the Brethren had survived? What if they had already spirited the remaining children away? What if some of the children had been killed by the wolves? The ones who had escaped Polly’s cage should have been long gone before the commotion had begun, as they all looked to have fought their way out, but in the melee it was impossible to see for certain. Charlotte didn’t know if she could live with herself thinking that she had caused someone’s death, however unwittingly.

  ‘I can’t stand it,’ Isaac announced, breaking into her thoughts. ‘Them wolves are never goin’ to move and we can’t stay up here much longer. If I don’t go mad we’ll starve.’ He leaned against the windowsill and stared at Polly and Charlotte in turn. Polly watched him in silence for a moment.

  ‘He’s got a point,’ she said finally. ‘We ain’t eaten for hours and hours and we ain’t had a drink either. Staying here much longer won’t help us and it ain’t goin’ to help Annie either.’

  ‘We can’t go anywhere while the wolves are still outside,’ Charlotte said.

  ‘But why are they waiting?’ Isaac said as he crossed the room and took Polly’s arm. He led her back to the window. ‘Why are they just sittin’ there? What do they want? I don’t know much about wolves but I know that ain’t normal behaviour.’

  Polly looked outside and then back to the bed where Annie lay. She wore a thoughtful expression. ‘Perhaps it’s somethin’ to do with Annie.’

  ‘You mean the spell might not be completely broken?’ Charlotte asked.

  ‘Judging by the way they ripped up that room downstairs I think it was. But perhaps they’re still connected to her somehow.’

  ‘Like a deeper loyalty? As if she’s somehow leader of the pack?’

  Polly shrugged. ‘Damned if I know. But somethin’ is keeping them here and they can’t still be hungry.’

  ‘Maybe they’re still angry at being locked up for so long,’ Charlotte said.

  Polly sniffed. ‘I don’t think that’s it.’ She peered through the window again. ‘They don’t look very angry. They’re just sitting down, calm as you like. But they’re all looking away from the house, not at it, as if they’re guarding it.’

  ‘Georgina!’ Charlotte said suddenly. ‘Could it be something Georgina is doing?’

  ‘She’s just a baby,’ Isaac cut in doubtfully. ‘What could she do?’

  ‘She’s a baby with magic,’ Polly said, nodding at Charlotte. ‘I see what you’re gettin’ at. She could be weaving a spell hardly knowing she’s doin’ it.’

  ‘If she’s scared, then yes. Don’t forget, I lived with her,’ Charlotte said, ‘I know that she’s no ordinary baby.’

  ‘But you were attacked by a wolf,’ Isaac said. ‘You told us you were both terrified by it. Why would Georgie keep wolves here if they scared her?’

  ‘If she sensed Annie’s magic making them our allies, she could just be copying the spell? Or she may understand Annie’s intentions and realise that she can keep their loyalty? Or maybe she’s just plain scared and will grab at anything she thinks will protect her, and understands that the wolves have strength.’

  ‘Do you think her magic is just like Annie’s?’ Polly asked. ‘Annie can only enchant animals and heal. Do you think that’s all Georgina has?’

  ‘It’s enough, ain’t it?’ Isaac said. ‘If she is keeping the wolves calm then we have a chance to get past them and free everyone.’

  ‘What if that ain’t it?’ Polly said.

  ‘Then we’ll die trying.’ He smiled. ‘It ain’t the first time today I’ve said that either. But we’ve come this far to get her and I ain’t about to give up now.’ He began to make his way to the door.

  ‘You’re going out there?’ Charlotte asked, her eyes wide.

  Isaac nodded. ‘One of us has to and if I’m running from a wolf at least it’s something to do. I’m goin’ mad up here waiting.’

  Polly joined him at the door. ‘Don’t even think about arguing, Clotpole,’ she said, gazing up at him. ‘I’m coming with you.’

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of it, Poll.’

  ‘What do I do?’ Charlotte asked as they opened the door.

  ‘I have no idea,’ Isaac said. ‘I wish I could tell you but I can’t. We could be eaten in a minute or we could not.’ He looked at Polly and she shrugged in agreement. ‘If we do get eaten then you’re goin’ to have to come up with a plan of your own.’

  ‘And it’ll be a darned sight better than anything this idiot can dream up,’ Polly said as she followed him out.

  Charlotte let out a deep sigh as the door slammed behind them. She was beginning to think that Polly was right about Isaac; he was an idiot. A handsome, charming, brave, infuriatingly attractive idiot. She wondered if she might quite like an idiot like that for herself.

  As they drew closer to the open door, outside which sat the three remaining wolves staring out towards the road and the heath beyond, the bravado he had shown upstairs was now replaced by misgiving. Isaac shouldn’t have let Polly come on this foolish mission. If he was wrong – and he often was about many things – they would both be ripped to shreds and Charlotte would be alone apart from an unconscious Annie and a lot of terrified, locked up orphans, some possibly-not-yet-dead devil worshipping maniacs and a pack of vengeful wolves. Not an ideal situation, he mused. He glanced across at Polly, whose encouraging glance back steeled his own resolve. She looked strong, ready for a new fight, and he had to be that too. As they crept past the doorway, one of the wolves turned its head and regarded them through impassive yellow eyes. It let out a faint whine, but it did not stir, and in a moment had turned back to its watch of the heath. Isaac exchanged another glance with Polly and heaved a silent sigh of relief as he gently and quietly closed the door to keep them from entering the house again. It seemed that their first test was over. But they still had the sacrificial chamber to go back into and who knew what they would find in there.

  Isaac had seen violence on the streets, far more than a boy of his age ought to have seen, but nothing could have prepared him for the scene that met them in the chamber they had so recently escaped from. There was now only a dim light from three remaining torches in brackets, but it was still possible to see enough to make his skin crawl. Blood washed the walls and it was hard to tell what used to be people and what was the remains of wolf. But the eerie silence of a battleground where the battle was long over filled the room, only punctuated by the quiet weeping of children huddled together in their cages. Isaac gagged at the carnage, and then looked across at Polly. She stared straight ahead, breathing heavily but stoic and undeterred. He should have known that she would not have needed his comfort and he was never prouder of her strength than he was at that moment.

  ‘We need to get them out,’ Polly said quietly. Isaac nodded and then looked over the floor.

  ‘The keys could be anywhere.’

  ‘You’re right. Grab a sword or a knife. We’re going to have to bust the locks.’

  Isaac reached for an ornate dagger abandoned by his feet. With a grimace he wiped blood from its handle on his trousers. Holding it up to inspect, he suddenly realised that this was the very same dagger that had nearly killed him. It was a beautiful thing: a bone handle decorated with intricate carvings of symbols that he had never seen before, a precise blade that s
eemed to prism the light bouncing from its surfaces into a rainbow of colours. Despite this, the sight of it sent a chill into his bones and a sickness into his heart. He wondered how many children this object of beauty had killed during the years of terror spent in search of the right infant witch.

  It was then that he suddenly noticed the humming. Not like the menacing chant that had greeted them the first time they entered this chamber, but more like Annie’s soulful, soaring notes. But these were from a higher, purer, more hesitant voice than Annie’s. They weren’t notes in an ordered form, but primal, instinctive lilting melodies that shifted and changed like the wind across fields of wheat. His gaze was drawn towards the birdcage and he could see that Georgina was still lying curled up on the base of it, but now she was weeping gently and moving her lips at the same time, small movements that were hard to make out in the gloom. But Isaac was now in no doubt that it was Georgina holding the enchantment on the wolves. As he gazed up at the cage where she sang, he was awestruck by the wonder of it. And just as he did whenever Annie wove her spells, he could feel the music bewitch his own senses, as though he was in some between-worlds place and not quite with his own mind.

  ‘Isaac,’ Polly said, cutting into his thoughts. He turned to see that she was staring up at the cage too. ‘This isn’t the time,’ she continued, still watching Georgina herself.

  Isaac shook himself. ‘I know… It’s just…’

  ‘…beautiful,’ Polly finished for him. She turned and smiled at him. ‘Ain’t she clever?’

  Isaac returned her smile and fought the impulse to sit himself down on the floor and listen more to Georgina’s song. Instead, he headed for the nearest cage. ‘I don’t suppose any of you have the keys to this infernal thing?’ he asked the silent occupants. When no reply came he shrugged. ‘Looks like I’ll have to do some damage then.’

  While he worked at the lock with the point of the dagger, trying to get the catch to spring, Polly walked the floor, searching for a sign of any keys. Isaac shot her the occasional glance and marvelled at her fortitude; not once did he see her flinch as she picked her way through the corpses. Then there was a little cry of triumph, and she raced over waving her prize.

  ‘Pulled it from a belt,’ she said. ‘Move out of the way and let me try it in this one.’

  Isaac moved aside and Polly tried the key. It wouldn’t turn and she muttered a curse under her breath as she moved to the next cage. This time there was a click and the door opened. The children inside stared dumbly at her.

  ‘Go on, yer bunch of silly urchins, what are you waitin’ for? Run for your lives!’

  ‘No!’ Isaac shouted suddenly. ‘The wolves, Poll. They might still be outside.’

  Polly twisted around to look at him and then back at the children. ‘Right… in that case stay there for now.’ She ran back to Isaac who was still working his lock. ‘Do you think the wolves will let them pass?’ she whispered.

  ‘We’ve no way of knowing. But there are so many of them now that I don’t know what it will do to distract them. We can’t be sure how strong Georgina’s hold is.’

  ‘As soon as we take her from the cage, won’t it break the spell? Now she’s singing because she’s sad but if we get her out she might forget she’s supposed to be singing.’

  ‘In that case we’ll have to get them all up the stairs into the safe rooms.’ He handed Polly the dagger and reached for one of the torches. ‘I’ll lead them and you keep trying these locks.’ He turned to the children in the open cage. ‘Follow me…’

  There was a brief hesitation, and then Isaac beckoned them again. ‘Come on, you’ll be safe with me, I promise.’

  Gradually, they began to file out and Isaac led them as best he could, through the bodies on the floor and towards the giant wooden doors. They followed him up the two flights of stairs, up to the floor where Annie and Charlotte waited, but he led them along the corridor to another room, mindful that Annie might need peace and safety from any germs the other children might bring with them. He told them to wait, closed the door, and then dashed along the passageway, halting for a moment at the door of the room that contained Annie and Charlotte. Torn between reassuring Charlotte and making sure that Annie had not taken a turn for the worse, and fretting about Polly down in the cellar trying to get the rest of the children free, he finally decided to run back to help Polly.

  Down in the sacrificial chamber, the scene was no less shocking the second time he viewed it than the first. But this time he swallowed the feeling of nausea and rushed to Polly, who had already opened the second cage. She turned to him and waved a hairpin. ‘One of the girls had this…’ she shot a dark look at the cage with the open door. ‘It might have been useful if she’d told us before I messed around with the knife and nearly sliced my fingers off.’

  Isaac noted she now had the dagger stowed in a belt that looked to be stolen from one of the Brethren, fastened around her waist. With a cry of satisfaction the third cage door opened. Polly turned to Isaac with her hands on her hips and a grin.

  ‘You are good, Poll,’ Isaac said with a grin of his own.

  ‘I know. Take ‘em upstairs and I’ll see about getting Georgie down.’

  ‘You know as soon as we get her out the spell might break?’

  ‘The door is closed, ain’t it? The wolves can’t get in?’

  ‘Yes. But if they don’t move on we can’t get out either.’

  ‘One problem at a time. Get these ragamuffins upstairs and quick.’

  Isaac beckoned the remaining children, taking the stairs a second time and depositing them in one of the rooms with instructions to stay put before racing back to Polly.

  As he entered the chamber for what he hoped would be the last time, he saw Polly open the birdcage and take Georgina into her arms. She looked up at Isaac with the widest, most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her. He felt his heart would burst with pride.

  And then, from amongst the mass of bodies on the floor, he saw a figure prop itself up and raise a hand. He saw the pistol and the rest was a blur.

  ‘POLLY!’ he yelled. The smile slid from her face as she saw what he saw, and she turned with Georgina to run, slipping and tripping over the limbs and blood that littered the floor. The gunshot echoed around the chamber as Isaac threw himself onto the figure. As he wrestled to get control, he saw with horror that the face beneath the blood and matted hair was Mrs Brown, somehow still alive. Despite the fact that she must have been half dead she was strong, and Isaac struggled to hold her as she tried to get another shot at him. There hadn’t been time to see if Polly or Georgina had been struck by the first one, and Isaac strained to prevent her from getting a second chance, but he was losing the fight as her strength seemed to increase unnaturally with every passing moment they fought. Before he knew what was happening Mrs Brown had flipped him onto the floor beneath her, pinning him down and holding the gun to his head with a manic, bloody grin.

  ‘I’ll teach you to meddle with what you don’t understand,’ she hissed as she cocked the trigger. Isaac closed his eyes…

  And then her weight slid to the side and onto the floor. Isaac looked up to see Polly standing above them, the bone-handled dagger that had been in her belt now in the back of Mrs Brown. She stared down at him, her eyes full of fire.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ he panted as he lay, shaking and trying to catch his breath.

  ‘No. Georgie’s fine too,’ she said as she scooped up the tot from a space on the floor and held her close. ‘Are you?’ she added.

  Isaac shook his head weakly. ‘Just give me a minute…’

  ‘We ain’t got a minute. Annie is dyin’ up there and you’re lying around on the floor like you got nothin’ better to do.’

  Isaac grinned up at her. His heart was thumping madly in his chest and his limbs felt like they were made of paper, but he pushed himself up and stood. Georgina was clinging to Polly’s neck and sucking her thumb. As they feared, she had stopped singing.

  ‘Let
’s get out of here,’ Polly said, nodding at the doorway.

  ‘What do you think will happen when all this gets discovered?’ Isaac asked as they made their way back through the room and to the stone staircase.

  ‘I don’t know. But we’d best be far away when it is.’

  ‘Do you see Finch anywhere amongst them?’ Isaac asked.

  ‘No. But I ain’t searching for him now. I want a warm fire and a decent meal.’

  ‘And where are we goin’ to get that? We ain’t exactly made of money and we ain’t got anywhere to live now.’

  ‘Who ain’t made of money?’ Polly winked as she pulled a purse from a pocket in her skirts.

  ‘Poll! You stole from a corpse!’

  ‘They tried to kill us, the least they could do was buy us a pie to make amends. It weren’t like they were going to miss it.’

  ‘You’re a bad ‘un,’ Isaac grinned.

  ‘That’s why you like me.’

  They stopped at the outside door. Behind it the wolves had stood sentry only moments before. Isaac pressed his ear to it and listened.

  ‘I can’t hear anythin’ either way. Do you reckon they’re still there?’

  Polly shook her head. ‘I think they’ll have gone when the enchantment broke. But we’ll have to look out the windows and check. I daren’t risk the door just in case.’

  ‘What are we going to do with all the children?’ Isaac asked as they continued up to the first floor. ‘We can’t just send ‘em out onto the streets and there ain’t another orphanage until Ringwood. Even then I don’t like the idea of who might be running it after what we’ve seen here.’

  ‘We’ll walk them to the convent and leave them there.’

  ‘People will ask questions. They’ll find out what happened here and they’ll blame us or even them. We’ll have to get them far away from here or we might find we saved them from the altar and sent them to the gallows instead.’

  ‘First they got to find us. None of them know who we are or where we came from. Besides, who would have thought that a lot of weakling orphans could have caused what lies on the floor of that cellar? They’ll think the wolves got in and did it.’