The Vanishing Trick

by Jenni Spangler

  She gazed out over the empty hillside rather than let Leander see how close to tears she was. She wouldn’t cry. She was more courageous than that. The horses thundered on.

  After they had driven for two hours, Leander needed to relieve himself and they pulled up beside the hedgerow. The first hint of dawn gave the sky a pinkish hue. Charlotte stretched her limbs, wriggled her fingers and marched about to warm herself. Leander was barely back from the brambles when a low groan came from the carriage.

  It rocked with the shifting weight inside – Pinchbeck must still be clumsy from the tincture. Charlotte hopped up on to the driving seat, instinctively seeking higher ground, and Leander followed suit. Felix stood, stroking Marigold’s mane, perhaps to soothe himself more than the horse.

  Pinchbeck would know immediately that the carriage had moved. She’d be suspicious. Be calm. Act like you’ve done nothing wrong. Charlotte tried to calm herself.

  Pinchbeck gave a wordless yell when she stepped on to the track.

  ‘What game is this?’ she cried. ‘Where are we?’

  Charlotte wanted to invent a clever excuse, but nothing came. Her mind kept returning to the demented ghost pursuing them, ready to hunt Pinchbeck down and condemn them all to hell. Pinchbeck hobbled over to them. She looked to have aged ten years overnight – Pellar’s release must be weakening her faster still.

  It didn’t make her any less terrifying. Physical strength wasn’t needed to command them into their Cabinets, or smash Charlotte’s delicate lantern.

  ‘You,’ said Pinchbeck, pointing a finger at the spot between Charlotte’s eyes. ‘You did something to my drink. Tell me, or live to regret it!’

  ‘Perhaps . . . perhaps it was a little too strong?’ she stammered.

  ‘Liar.’ Pinchbeck’s voice was steady and controlled which was much more worrying than when she shouted. ‘There’s no room in heaven for liars, Charlotte.’

  Her eyes were narrow and bright as she moved closer, close enough that Charlotte could see a few wiry grey hairs sprouting from a mole beside her nose which wasn’t there before. The image of a tail swishing behind her in the darkness came into Charlotte’s head from nowhere, but vanished almost as soon as it arrived.

  ‘Well. Why are we not in Coven as I commanded?’

  None of the children answered. Charlotte could almost feel Leander’s heart pounding behind her. She hoped he’d have the sense to keep his mouth shut for once.

  ‘Not only do you disobey me, you’re too cowardly to explain yourselves.’ Pinchbeck’s mouth stretched into a chilling smile as she focused her gaze on Charlotte. ‘You’ve always been trouble. Rude. Defiant. And now there’s no reason for me to tolerate it any longer. I’ve a special punishment for you.’

  ‘Wait!’ shouted Leander. Felix stepped in front of Pinchbeck, arms outstretched.

  ‘Don’t think you’re off the hook, boys. You’re all going to learn what happens when you disobey me.’ Her stare was still fixed on Charlotte.

  ‘Don’t hurt them,’ Charlotte begged.

  ‘Abeo!’ Pinchbeck cried.

  A crushing pain flooded Charlotte from inside out as her body faded away from her mind. There was a click and a shiver as the lantern was locked shut. She could not escape.

  What would become of her now?

  Felix was wracked with an agony he had not felt since Isaak first disappeared. His conscience clawed at him. And, locked in with his violin but unable to touch it, he couldn’t soothe his mind with melody.

  What had become of Charlotte and Leander? Had Pinchbeck broken their Cabinets? Felix was still alive so the violin case must be intact. For now. He pushed with his mind, trying to emerge, but he couldn’t. His Cabinet was closed. He was at Pinchbeck’s mercy.

  What had he done? He had promised to serve Pinchbeck faithfully in exchange for her help to find Isaak, and now Felix had broken their agreement. If Pinchbeck was to discover the full extent of his mutiny, would he ever get the chance to search for his little brother again?

  But he had to help Charlotte. I sacrificed my brother for her, and may have lost them both.

  Worst of all, Felix could do nothing but wait.

  The locket was closed. Leander was sealed inside his Cabinet.

  Although this was not the first time Pinchbeck had closed the locket, it was the worst. Previously, when she had closed their Cabinets on the way into a seance, Leander had always felt calm, knowing it was not for long. This time was different. Pinchbeck was angry.

  What if she destroyed their Cabinets? Decided it was easier to get rid of them all?

  He tried to force his way out, but nothing happened. Not even the pain he felt when he first tried to resist being pulled inside – nothing at all.

  Leander felt so desperately alone. More alone than he’d been when he slept by himself in the library because now he had come close – so close! – to finding himself part of a family again. It hadn’t been long, but he had come to think of Felix and Charlotte as true friends. And now . . . had he lost them for ever?

  Leander had been so naive to trust Pinchbeck. Whatever happens, he told himself, if I get out of this locket, I will do whatever it takes to free us all.

  16

  Wheel of Fortune:

  A Sudden Twist of Fate

  ‘Exsisto!’

  A sharp gust of air swept over Leander as the locket was unlatched. Relief was quickly followed by fear, as bitter as chicory, wondering what might await him. But he didn’t resist – there was no pain as he stepped, blinking, into the world. Felix emerged from his violin case half a breath behind him.

  Leander waited for Charlotte to appear, but she wasn’t there. The spot in the carriage where her lantern normally rested was occupied instead by a large jar half filled with broken glass. Felix gave the tiniest shake of his head – a warning not to say anything – and Leander bit his tongue to keep from crying out.

  Pinchbeck stood smiling before them, uncomfortably close in the cramped carriage. Her hand rested on the shelf next to the jar, making sure the boys noticed it. She had changed into a green gown and the peacock hat from their first meeting. He noticed that her hair was darker and her skin seemed fresher than before.

  Because she has one less Cabinet draining her, thought Leander. Because Charlotte is gone.

  Charlotte had been right. Pinchbeck didn’t want her any more. The monster had used Charlotte for a purpose and then discarded her like she was nothing. Leander clenched his jaw, fighting to look calm when he wanted to scream.

  ‘Good morning, boys. Please see to the horses.’ She sat by the hamper from Lord Litchfield’s estate, unwrapped a fruit pie and took a dainty bite. ‘Behave nicely and you can have some of this fine food.’

  The boys climbed out of the carriage in silence. They were in a town, with a short row of houses some hundred feet behind them and the edge of a market just in sight in the opposite direction. The horses were grazing on a patch of rough grass at the side of the road.

  ‘Charlotte’s gone!’ The words burst out of Leander as soon as they were a few paces away. It was all he could do to whisper. ‘Pinchbeck killed her.’ Vomit burned in his throat and his eyes stung.

  Felix pulled Leander by the sleeve until they were on the opposite side of the carriage to Pinchbeck, out of her line of sight. ‘That wasn’t Charlotte’s Cabinet in the jar.’ He sounded calm, but was as white as a sheet. ‘The glass was the wrong colour. Blueish. And thick.’

  ‘What is it, then?’

  ‘The lemonade bottle from the hamper, if I had to guess. Pinchbeck wants us to think it’s Charlotte’s lantern so we won’t look for her.’ Felix rubbed the flank of the chestnut horse and gently led her back to the carriage.

  Leander rubbed his fists against his eyes, trying to wipe away the image of Charlotte’s lantern smashed into a thousand pieces. He imagined her staring into his eyes and pleading for help as she gradually turned to dust and blew away on the wind. ‘Are you certain?’

  ‘She’
s trying to scare us into line.’ Felix began hitching up the first horse. Leander tried his best to help, tightening straps where Felix pointed.

  ‘Then Charlotte might still be here?’

  ‘Not in the carriage,’ said Felix. ‘Or she’d have appeared when Pinchbeck said “abeo”, hidden or not. The command works on all Cabinets within earshot.’

  Not dead then, but not here, either.

  ‘Which means Pellar was telling the truth. Pinchbeck must keep all her old Cabinets hidden somewhere.’

  Leander’s heart leaped. If Charlotte was alive, there was hope. ‘How can we find her?’

  ‘Shh,’ Felix reminded him. He shaded his eyes and squinted up at the sun. ‘We may have a chance still.’

  A lady with a basket walked by.

  ‘Excuse me, miss, what day is it?’ said Felix.

  ‘Friday the first,’ she replied without stopping.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Felix, then waited until the woman was out of earshot before continuing. ‘It’s the same day. Pinchbeck shut us away at dawn and it isn’t even noon yet. She had to hide Charlotte’s Cabinet, travel here, let the horses graze.’

  ‘So Charlotte must be near,’ said Leander, picking up Felix’s meaning. ‘We can’t leave this town without her.’

  Pinchbeck wasn’t foolish enough to stay near the scene of her crime for long. If the horses hadn’t needed to eat, they’d most likely have been gone already.

  ‘How do you take off a horseshoe?’ asked Leander, an idea forming. He peeped round the side of the carriage to see if Pinchbeck was paying attention, but she hadn’t left the carriage.

  ‘If it’s already loose, I can do it,’ said Felix. ‘Is she losing one?’

  ‘No. But if she did . . .’

  ‘ . . . Pinchbeck might stay until the farrier can see her. Worth a try.’

  There was a modest collection of tools in the carriage, but neither boy wanted to risk Pinchbeck’s wrath by going back inside.

  ‘Scout about in the dirt,’ suggested Felix. ‘Find me a flat stone with sharp corners. A bit of slate will do.’

  They searched the muddy undergrowth at the side of the lane, picking up handfuls of twigs so they could claim to be gathering firewood if Pinchbeck saw them. Once Felix found something that would work, they returned to the horses. It would have to be Marigold, they both agreed, for she was the more flighty of the two, and so more likely to refuse to pull.

  ‘Talk to her, keep her soothed,’ Felix instructed Leander. He took one hoof between his hands and held her leg tight between his knees. Leander heard him whisper, ‘Forgive me, Marigold.’

  Marigold stirred and twitched her ears. Leander murmured nonsense words to keep her calm. If Pinchbeck catches us . . . Felix wedged the stone in as best he could, positioning it where it would make her foot sore as she walked on the hard road. He straightened up and gave her a little rub by way of apology.

  ‘Are you done?’ Pinchbeck called. Leander heard the carriage door swing open.

  ‘Almost,’ said Felix, and Leander looked away and gripped the leather bridle iron-tight to disguise his shaking hands. ‘The horses are tired; they need to rest.’

  ‘They’ll rest when we get to the city. News of my seance and ghost photography will be spreading by now. I’m sure the papers will want to speak to me.’ The corner of Pinchbeck’s mouth curled up into the slightest hint of a smile, almost daring them to ask about Charlotte. Leander couldn’t trust himself to speak. After a centuries-long moment, Pinchbeck said, ‘Hop up here, then!’ and climbed on to the driving seat. Felix and Leander did as they were told.

  Marigold did not let them down. Almost immediately, she began to limp slightly, lifting her left hoof a little higher off the ground. She slowed, despite Pinchbeck’s urging, and when the dirt track became cobble, just past the market, refused to pull.

  Marigold shifted her weight from hoof to hoof, raised her head and shook it in warning when Pinchbeck tried to check her sore foot. Pansy was unsettled, too, sensing her companion was hurt.

  Pinchbeck unhitched Marigold and led her on to the grass, though the ground was so hard with frost it was unlikely to offer much relief.

  ‘Felix, run back into town,’ Pinchbeck ordered, still holding on to the horse. ‘Get directions to the farrier. Tell him to come out here as soon as possible.’

  ‘Can I go with him?’ asked Leander.

  Pinchbeck narrowed her eyes.

  ‘I want to see how they make the horseshoes,’ Leander said with a smile and a shrug.

  ‘Leave your locket here,’ said Pinchbeck, holding out her hand.

  Leander reluctantly took off the locket and gave it to her.

  ‘Remember, dear boys, I have your Cabinets. If there’s a moment of disobedience . . .’

  She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to for the threat to be understood.

  The boys set off running.

  ‘We won’t have long to search for Charlotte, but it’s something,’ said Felix.

  ‘Do you think we’re looking for another grave?’

  ‘No. Pinchbeck couldn’t dig up a grave in daylight.’

  ‘What then?’ Leander shoved his hands into his pockets for warmth.

  They crossed the road, past a public house called The Four Ashes and a tailor’s shop. ‘Pellar said there are ways of keeping magic contained. Pinchbeck must be using charms and symbols,’ said Felix.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘The spellbooks talk of crosses, prayers, rosaries?’

  ‘Those are everywhere! Every house . . .’ Leander felt like he’d swallowed a brick. It was impossible. They had no clues, no idea how many hiding places Pinchbeck had, no guarantee Charlotte would be in one of them. Was their best plan really just to wander around in the cold, looking for crosses?

  He’d barely befriended Charlotte and now she was lost. He felt panicky and guilty – it hurt. This was what he got for trying to make friends and belong. He should have stayed in the library, alone. He didn’t need other people – all they brought was pain.

  He thought of his mother and wished his locket was round his neck, not hanging within reach of that wicked woman.

  The two boys reached the farrier’s workshop. A little girl scrubbing the front step with a donkey stone told them he was with a customer, but she’d pass on their message. They gave Pinchbeck’s name and described where the carriage was waiting, and the girl wrote it on a slate in a spidery hand.

  ‘Pinchbeck, you say?’ A well-dressed man paused on his way out of the workshop. ‘What Christian name?’

  ‘Augustina, sir,’ said Felix.

  ‘Would she be Augustina Pinchbeck, the spiritualist?’

  ‘Why?’ said Leander. Felix jabbed his elbow into Leander’s ribs. ‘I mean, if it’s not impolite to ask, sir, do you know her?’

  The man frowned, then shook his head. ‘I’ve heard the name, that’s all.’ He swept out of the door and away.

  The farrier emerged, wiping his hands on his apron. ‘Tell your mistress that I’ll be there before sunset. I have to tend to another matter, and then I’ll come.’

  Leander wanted to search for Charlotte right away. He was practically quaking with impatience, but Felix insisted it was better to return to the carriage first.

  ‘Play at being good. After last night, Pinchbeck will be on the lookout for misbehaviour,’ he said to Leander as they headed back.

  With luck, Pinchbeck would decide to find lodgings and he and Leander could search through the night for Charlotte. But there was a chance that Pinchbeck might press on anyway. And who knew when they might pass through this town again? They needed another excuse to leave Pinchbeck before the farrier arrived.

  ‘When we get back, I’ll suggest we go busking in the marketplace. Pinchbeck won’t turn down money.’ Felix spoke with more confidence than he felt. She might let Felix go, but make Leander stay with her, and the boy might get himself in trouble without Felix to watch over him. He felt responsible for
keeping Leander safe.

  ‘Yes!’ Leander bobbed on his toes, bouncing with nervous energy.

  Felix’s fingers itched for the pressure of the violin strings, the smooth and steady sway of the bow to loosen the tightness in his muscles. And perhaps, the faintest whisper of hope stirred in his chest, perhaps Charlotte would hear his music and know they were coming.

  As they walked, Felix took out his holey stone and raised it to his eye, checking the surrounding area. One never knows. I could be lucky.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Leander.

  ‘A holey stone. Hagstone.’

  ‘But what is it?’

  ‘It’s a rock with a hole worn through the middle by flowing water. People say if you look through one, you’ll find all the hidden and magical things human eyes don’t notice.’ He let Leander hold it and turn it over in his hands. ‘Pinchbeck gave it to me, years ago, to . . .’ He didn’t want to talk about it, but he and Leander needed to trust each other. ‘To help me find my little brother, Isaak.’

  ‘Did you find him?’

  ‘No.’ He sighed. ‘I still hope.’

  ‘What do you think happened to him?’ said Leander.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Felix knew there was a good chance that Isaak was dead. He had been too small to look after himself, and it seemed impossible that he wouldn’t come back to Felix if he could. He had no one else in the world, and nowhere else to go.

  ‘It was nice of Pinchbeck to give you this magic stone, wasn’t it?’ said Leander, holding it up to his eye. ‘What with all the horrible things she’s done.’

  Felix nodded. It was nice of Pinchbeck – uncharacteristically nice, considering how she often treated others. But Felix was different – he had always gone with Pinchbeck willingly, and wanted her seances to succeed. He didn’t think of himself as stolen so much as employed.