Lily

by Webb, Holly

  Henrietta gave a sharp, excited little yap. ‘Ah! I understand now. The queen, yes?’

  Lily nodded, staring into her sister’s troubled eyes. ‘She’s training you to assassinate Queen Sophia.’

  The two girls and the dog sat curled up together in front of the dying library fire, staring into the greying coals, and trying to make sense of what they had seen.

  ‘That’s what it’s all about?’ Georgie muttered. ‘Getting rid of the queen?’

  ‘It fits.’ Lily nodded. ‘It fits with the stories Mama was always telling you, the ones you passed on to me. That Queen Sophia is a terrible tyrant, and we have to put the magicians back in power again. The easiest way to bring the magic back would be to kill her, wouldn’t it? She’s the one forbidding magic, because she was so upset about her father’s death.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Georgie shrugged wearily. ‘Perhaps it isn’t such a bad thing. She did have Father put in prison, you know.’

  ‘Maybe he deserved it,’ Lily said in a small voice, ‘if he was plotting to assassinate the queen too. The Queen’s Men just got in first…’

  Georgie shook her head. ‘No. That would be treason. I don’t think they put you in prison for treason, Lily, they just hang you. He might have been in on Mama’s plot, but he can’t have been discovered. They would never have left Mama free either, would they? Or us. They would have put us all in prison. Regicides. That’s what they call people who kill kings and queens.’

  Lily nodded, and found herself holding Georgie’s hand. Before Mama had started giving Georgie quite so many lessons, Lily’s favourite thing of all had been to play with her sister. It was hard to remember, now that Georgie was so quiet and listless, but she had invented the most amazing games. Make-believe games. And their favourite had always been the same. They didn’t play it often – partly so as not to spoil it, but mostly because they’d known it would be very unfortunate to be caught. They would find a cupboard – the linen cupboard in the old housekeeper’s room was particularly good – and take turns to shut each other inside, or almost.

  Actually, Lily refused to let Georgie shut the door completely as she was afraid of the dark, and Georgie refused to let Lily shut it because she didn’t trust her not to wander off and forget about her. They would borrow a cup of water, and a crust of bread from Martha in the kitchen, and whoever was being the cruel jailer would take great delight in describing the enormous rats she had seen recently or the lingering death of the prisoner in the next cell.

  It was only such a good game because of the terrifying feeling that one day it might come true. If the Queen’s Men came unexpectedly, perhaps, and found that Mama had not renounced magic as she promised. If one of the servants talked… It could happen. Like it had happened to Father.

  ‘Do you think he knew what Mama was doing?’ Lily asked. ‘He’s only been in prison for nearly nine years. If we’re right about Lucy, and Prudence, then Mama’s been planning this for ages. A lot longer than that. Was he part of the plot too?’

  Georgie pleated the edge of the piece of paper, and shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. I hardly remember him – I was only three, after all – but I don’t think he would have done anything that might have hurt us.’ She frowned. ‘He was so worried, all the time. But I suppose if he had two little girls before us, two little girls who died, then that makes sense.’ She smiled. ‘He used to feed me cod liver oil.’

  ‘Uurgh!’ Lily shivered. Mrs Porter had a large brown glass jar of that, and she occasionally made Lily take spoonfuls. It was horrible.

  ‘No, it was lovely. I think he’d changed the flavour, it tasted of roses. He gave it to you, too. Don’t you remember? Pink stuff?’

  Lily shook her head, staring at Georgie doubtfully.

  ‘Well, he did. And he used to fuss if I so much as coughed.’ Georgie frowned. ‘It all makes sense now.’

  ‘So Lucy and Prudence sickened for something,’ Lily said quietly.

  Georgie stared doubtfully at the list of spells again. She seemed unable to tear her eyes away from it – particularly the one she might have cast. ‘You know, if Mama had ever let the Queen’s Men see that we had any magic, we would have been taken away. There are awful places. Schools where they send magicians’ children to have the magic stopped somehow. Perhaps she ought to be assassinated. Maybe Mama’s doing the right thing. Sometimes people have to use desperate measures…’ But she was biting her hair again.

  Lily simply looked at her. And then she picked up the photograph album again, and held it out to Georgie, turning over the pages to show her their sisters.

  Georgie nodded.

  ‘We have to get away. Even if we did agree with assassinating people – and I don’t! – Mama’s going to give up on you. We heard her say so. She’s going to do the same thing to you that she did to the others! She probably will use one of the spells on that list, Georgie. She’s given up on trying to teach you them, so she’ll use one to get rid of you instead. Something that makes it look like you’re ill. The blood-thinning one. We have to run away.’ Lily stared at her sister, almost angrily, and then shook her. ‘Georgie!’

  ‘I know! But where will we go? Neither of us has ever left Merrythought, Lily. I don’t know how to be anywhere else.’

  ‘But I do.’

  The two sisters turned to look at the little black dog sitting smugly between them.

  ‘Merrythought is all very well for a country home, but I always found it rather too quiet.’ Henrietta yawned. ‘I much prefer London. Let’s go there. Your mama would never find you in an enormous city, would she? And if your father is not involved in this plot, we had better find him, and tell him what his wife is doing.’ She smiled wolfishly. ‘After all, if she is discovered, he will not last long, will he? No one will believe he’s innocent. Those evil magicians, even plotting in prison!’ She gave a determined little nod. ‘I think we should go soon – before she starts to turn her attention to you, Lily.’

  Lily stared at her. Henrietta had only said what she had been thinking – she had even hoped that they might go to London – but someone else saying it out loud made it sound far more frightening. ‘How would we get off the island? We’d need a boat. There is one, a rowing boat, in that little boathouse at the bottom of the cliff path, but it’s always locked. Mr Francis has the keys in his pantry.’

  Georgie frowned. ‘I’ve seen letters from Father – not to read. Only the envelopes, and glimpses as she was reading them. I always searched for the letters afterwards, but Mama hid them, I think. They had London postmarks.’

  Lily started suddenly, as a hand tapped her shoulder. She swung round, nearly tipping herself into the fire, and the small, dirty hand grabbed her sleeve.

  Peter had lost his pale, starved look after three years of all the kitchen scraps he could steal, but he was still thin, and he sti ll didn’t talk.

  ‘Were you listening?’ Lily snapped.

  ‘Lily! He can’t hear!’ Georgie whispered to her.

  ‘He may not be able to hear, but he can still listen,’ Lily told her, staring straight at Peter, and speaking very clearly so he could read her lips.

  Peter grinned at her, and wriggled his hand to suggest he’d heard a little. Some. Enough.

  ‘How did you creep up on us?’ Lily demanded crossly.

  Peter put down the box of firewood he’d brought in, and scrabbled in the pocket of his battered shirt, bringing out a piece of paper and a stub of pencil. He scrawled something on the paper, and handed it to Lily, smirking.

  If you’re running off, you need to get a lot better at it. Watch your backs.

  ‘We didn’t know you were sneaking around,’ Lily muttered.

  Henrietta had prowled all around him, sniffing at his feet. ‘Could you steal the key to this boathouse?’ she asked suddenly, scratching at his knee to make him look down at her.

  Peter’s eyes widened, so that they were almost as round as Henrietta’s. All the servants knew that magic was going on in
the house, but they hardly ever saw it. The girls’ mother was careful, and Lily knew he had never seen anything like Henrietta. At last he nodded, and shrugged.

  ‘You’d do that?’ Lily frowned at him. ‘Why don’t you come with us?’ she added hopefully, after a moment. ‘We have to get away – Mama’s had Georgie under a spell, and we think she might… She might do something very bad…’ She couldn’t bring herself to say that they suspected Mama was planning to get rid of Georgie, like so much rubbish. ‘We’re going to London!’ she said instead. ‘Please, Peter, come with us. Won’t you?’

  Peter stared at her, his eyes twitching from side to side as though someone were chasing him, but after a moment he shook his head regretfully.

  ‘Not everyone on the mainland would be so bad.’ Lily couldn’t say like the family who sent you here, but they both knew that was what she meant.

  I’ll slide the key under your door, Peter wrote. Then he looked up at her, and added, Tonight?

  Lily glanced at Georgie and Henrietta. The pug was nodding enthusiastically. Georgie swallowed, clenching her nails into her palms, and whispered, ‘Yes.’

  Lily nodded. ‘Tonight.’

  ‘Are you sure she keeps it in here?’ Lily whispered, glancing over her shoulder in a hunted sort of way. It was past ten and the evening was darker now. They had only a candle, and the light was flickering on the furniture, sending shadows leaping here and there like ghosts.

  Henrietta nodded, and put her front paws up against the dressing table chair. ‘I can smell it. Gold has a very distinctive smell, Lily. Like butter.’

  ‘Oh, do hurry! What if Mrs Porter’s burned the dinner again? Mama might storm up here and be back any second,’ Georgie moaned. She was lurking by Mama’s bedroom door, supposedly keeping a watch on the passageway. They had taken a thin film of face powder from the pink china pot on the dressing table, and laid it over the threadbare carpet at the top of the stairs. If Georgie’s spell had worked – which she said she was quite sure it hadn’t, although Lily and Henrietta had chosen to ignore this as just Georgie panicking – then if anyone walked through the powder, the lid of the pot should clatter up and down. It was a very clever spell. If it worked.

  ‘Georgie, how do we undo a lock spell? Mama’s locked this drawer.’

  ‘Ohhh…’ Georgie ran back over to the dressing table, eyeing the powder pot miserably. ‘It isn’t a spell – it’s really locked. Oh, honestly, Lily! The key’s there, by the side of the mirror.’

  ‘Oh.’ Lily looked at the key rather disappointedly. She had been hoping for something a little more interesting. Swiftly she unlocked the drawer, and pulled out a small, red velvet bag, which was heavy, and chinked pleasingly in her hand.

  ‘What’s that under it?’ Georgie asked, curious now, in spite of herself.

  ‘Letters! Georgie, the letters from Father, they must be!’ Lily drew one out with shaking fingers, and unfolded it. ‘Dearest – that must be from Father. I have not had news from you in so long. Please write to tell me how my little daughters are faring. Are they still well and strong? That’s us, Georgie.’ Lily blinked, her eyes suddenly stinging with tears. Hardly anyone worried about how she was, only Martha, and she was usually too busy running around after the cook to give Lily much thought. ‘I suppose he hasn’t much else to do in prison, except worry about us all,’ she murmured sadly. ‘I have been questioned again about this ridiculous plot. I protest my innocence, but they seem convinced. They must have some sort of evidence, but of course, they won’t tell me what it is, so I cannot defend myself. I begin to think that I will never persuade them that I only wish to fight with words. I cannot agree with the law of the land – and if it were not for the damnable restrictions they place upon us, I would not be able to hold back my magic. How could I imprison it, if they were not imprisoning me? Perhaps they are right to keep me here, after all. But I would never stoop to plot against the queen.’ Lily looked up, her eyes shining with relief. ‘He isn’t part of it! There’s no reason he should lie in a letter to Mama, is there?’

  Georgie shook her head slowly. ‘I suppose not. Unless he was trying to throw his guards off the scent. But it doesn’t sound like that.’

  ‘Something’s coming!’ Henrietta suddenly hissed.

  ‘Mama?’ Lily looked down at the powder pot, and then whirled round to stare at Georgie and the door.

  ‘No. Something. It’s that spell-creature, and it isn’t coming from downstairs. It was here all the time.’ Henrietta was backing up against the bed, her nose tracking from side to side. ‘Where is it?’

  ‘She’s in the anteroom. She’s probably been listening,’ Lily whispered, reaching down and scooping Henrietta up. ‘I didn’t even think about her. Peter’s right, we’re dreadful conspirators. We can’t wait until midnight, Georgie, we’ll have to go now. Marten will tell Mama everything.’

  The door was opening already, and Lily watched, sickened, as a black-gloved hand slid around the side. She had never seen any of Marten’s skin, she realised, swallowing. Perhaps she didn’t have any.

  ‘Run, run,’ Henrietta growled. ‘We don’t know what she can do. Does she chase? Can she track us?’

  ‘She doesn’t need to, does she?’ Lily gasped, as they flung themselves out of the bedroom door, leaving the door of the anteroom still slowly widening, and the darkness of Marten creeping around it. ‘We were talking before we knew she was there. She must have heard us say we were running away, and the only way off the island is by the boat in the boat house.’ They raced along the passage, not even noticing the face powder trap at the top of the stairs, until it puffed and shimmered around them. Far behind them in the bedroom, they could hear a faint clatter of china, as the pot shook out its alarm.

  ‘It worked!’ Georgie laughed half-hysterically as they ran down the stairs.

  ‘Of course it did,’ Lily muttered. ‘Just because you can’t do evil assassination spells, it doesn’t mean you can’t do everything else. And hopefully it will distract Marten for a moment or so. We’ll use the orangery door, no one will be there, and it’s the quickest way out to the cliff path, anyway. I hid the bags under the gorse bushes.’

  ‘She’s coming after us – or to the dining room,’ Henrietta growled, watching over Lily’s shoulder. ‘I can smell her.’

  ‘Hurry then.’

  They raced along the passage to the orangery, flinging the glass doors open, and stumbled out through the night gardens. It was a moonlit night, but still the overgrown garden seemed full of confused and disturbing shapes, which only resolved themselves into familiar landmarks as they dashed past.

  Lily risked a glance back at the house, its dark bulk shining here and there with tiny lights. One of the lights was moving now across the dining room windows.

  ‘She’s gone to Mama. They’ll be after us any minute,’ she hissed to Georgie. ‘Run faster!’

  But Georgie had stopped dead with a sharp little gasp, as a bulky figure rose up in front of them.

  Lily tried not to scream. How had Marten – or was it Mama already? – ended up in front of them?

  But then the dark form came closer, and she realised it was too small for Mama or Marten, and the strange growths on either side of it were baggage – hers and Georgie’s.

  Peter stuffed Georgie’s bag into her arms, made a strangled, urgent sort of noise, and jerked his head to tell them to hurry and follow him down a narrow little path through the gorse bushes.

  ‘Is this the quickest way?’ Georgie asked him, but of course he was in front of her, and it was dark, so he didn’t answer. ‘It looks like we’re just walking into the bushes. Lily, this can’t be right.’

  ‘Shh. Peter knows where he’s going. And I bet Mama doesn’t know this path. It goes straight down to the cliff edge. I didn’t know he meant to come and help us,’ Lily gasped out, as they chased Peter through the gorse. The path was so narrow it looked as if had been worn there by the rabbits, and the spiky gorse seized at their hair and their dress
es.

  ‘There’s a light coming out of the orangery door. Lily, come on!’ Georgie seized Lily’s hand and pulled her on faster. ‘We can’t be caught, we just can’t. Mama will know we’ve been snooping. Who knows what they’ll do to us both.’

  ‘They can’t risk losing both of you,’ Henrietta pointed out. ‘Whatever the plan is, clearly they need a child.’

  ‘I’d rather be dead,’ Lily muttered. She said it without properly thinking, but as they blundered on through the gorse in dismayed silence, she realised it was true. Lily could imagine nothing worse than to be bound in a spell the way Georgie had been. Days seemed to have flowed past her sister like water, marked only by those frightened moments when she’d dimly seen that something was wrong. But those strange glimpses had never lasted long, and as they swam away from her, she’d been left to struggle on, alone and forgetful.

  At last they came out of the gorse thicket and onto the cliff path itself, its wide stone steps carved into the side of the island by the first Powers who’d built Merrythought. The boathouse sat at the bottom of the path, half built into the cliff itself, and protecting the family’s boats from the wild seas.

  The path petered out as they reached the jetty. Lily put Henrietta down, fumbled in her dress pocket for the boathouse key, and unlocked the door with fingers that suddenly fumbled and slipped. At last she managed to haul it open, its creak echoing eerily in the black, watery space beyond the doors.

  ‘I can’t see…’ Lily whispered worriedly. ‘Where’s the boat? We should have brought a lantern.’

  ‘Oh!’ Georgie sounded embarrassed. There was a moment of muttering, and then the boathouse was suddenly a place of ripples and shadows, as a soft silvery light glowed from Georgie’s hands.

  Peter made a frightened gasping noise, and Lily sighed admiringly. So useful, and so pretty. Perhaps Georgie could even teach her… Then she remembered they were running for their lives, and turned back to look for the little rowing boat she’d seen the butler use the one time she remembered him crossing to the mainland.