They turned and ran back towards the constable’s house again.
Now that their own Cabinets had been stored away, Felix’s mind turned to the little wooden box in his pocket. A little box that radiated with heat and hope. Isaak’s box.
He hadn’t told Charlotte that he’d taken it from the constable’s house, or what was inside. The news was too good to share; if he spoke the words aloud, it might cease to be real, a dream that dissolves in daylight.
Charlotte knew what Isaak meant to Felix. She’d encourage him to open it.
But he must wait. He had waited years; he could wait a few hours more until Leander was safe. If he released his brother – for surely, certainly, this must be his Cabinet – Isaak would be confused and frightened. If he panicked or shouted, or was too weak to keep up, it could put them all in more danger. Felix had to keep himself under control for a little while longer.
He allowed himself the tiniest peek through the holey stone to confirm it. Yes, the same misty haze he had seen around Charlotte. Definitely a Cabinet. There were scratches in the wood, marks that hadn’t been part of the decoration. Symbols crudely carved into the lid, similar to the symbol painted over Pinchbeck’s hidey-hole and carved into Pellar’s headstone. A tiny silver chain, as thin as embroidery cotton, was wrapped twice round the box.
Charms. Pinchbeck had put extra charms on Isaak’s Cabinet. That must be why he never appeared when Pinchbeck said ‘abeo’ and summoned the others from their Cabinets, even though he was close by.
Such cunning. This was no accident or misunderstanding. Pinchbeck knew all along that this Cabinet held Felix’s brother. She had gone to great lengths to keep it hidden from him, and to prevent accidental summoning. She’d let Felix search and suffer all those years. For what purpose? To control him? To keep him loyal to her?
The last eight years had been a lie.
He tightened his fists and gathered his resolve. There was time for anger later. He had Isaak’s Cabinet now. That was the important thing.
When they were safe – could they ever be safe again? – he’d open it and savour the reunion. It had been so long, he could barely recall Isaak’s face. He cupped the wooden box in his hand, enjoying the weight of it.
The wood was a little swollen from damp, old and fragile. He would need to open it with great care. He wouldn’t rush and risk breaking it. Isaak had been here all along. At least he would have heard Felix’s music. At least he knew his brother was near.
Though the walls of the cell were thick, Leander had heard all manner of strange things: scratching, banging and a most unholy scream. And then the door opened.
After the total darkness of the cell, even the oil lamp was unbearably bright. Leander squinted out at the woman who had offered him a blanket earlier – Martha. She was dirty and dishevelled, and her face glistened with tears. What had happened to her?
‘Out with you!’ cried Martha. ‘Begone!’
Pinchbeck was up and out before she’d finished speaking. She was impressively light on her feet for an old woman who’d been in a cold stone box all evening. Leander scrabbled to his feet and followed. He shrugged off the blanket and held it out to the woman who glared at him, nostrils flared and lips a thin line.
‘Thank you for your kindness, miss.’ He tried to hand her the blanket again, but she put her hands behind her back and the blanket fell to the ground. Leander bent to pick it up.
‘Boy!’ Pinchbeck glided on and Leander trotted obediently after her. He looked for Felix, but could see little beyond the lantern’s dome of light. ‘The carriage, no time to waste. Felix will catch up. He can’t get far without me, and he knows it.’
‘It’s–’ Leander hesitated to tell her. ‘They made a mess of your carriage. And the horses have been taken.’
‘We must find some. Any horse will do. Use your head, boy. Where’s the nearest stables?’
There were stables at the inn, and the farrier’s place.
‘Hurry, boy! The devils will be after us.’
He didn’t want to help Pinchbeck, but he didn’t want to be caught by the constable again, either. All he could do was stay out of trouble, and trust that the others would find a way to help. Leander pointed a trembling finger. Maybe he could lead Pinchbeck to a stable a little further away. It was his small act of rebellion.
‘Get moving, then. Quick and quiet.’ Pinchbeck was breathing heavily with the effort of the brisk walk.
Leander kept his eyes to the ground for fear his face would reveal his secrets. And then, from the edge of his vision, a flash of movement.
His heart soared. It was the others. They hadn’t left him! Pinchbeck marched on unaware. Leander fell behind, out of her view. They passed a gnarled tree, its great roots pushing up the paving slabs. And there, crouched in its shadow, were Charlotte and Felix. What a sight! Head to toe in water and filth, ash-stained and ragged, Charlotte looked more like a homeless waif than the Lady of the Manor.
Leander had to control himself, not draw any attention to them. He continued to trudge behind Pinchbeck who was muttering about inconvenience and injustice.
Felix and Charlotte kept pace alongside them, flitting from bush to alley, sticking to the shadows. Charlotte put her finger to her lips. As if he needed to be told!
He was so focused on thoughts of escape and the others that he almost missed the stable entirely.
‘Here, miss.’ He tugged on Pinchbeck’s sleeve. In a wide gap between two houses lay a dirt track, which led to a modest stable behind. Pinchbeck smiled the same syrupy smile she had first given him over a cup of bark tea.
‘Good boy.’ She cupped his cheek affectionately with her gloved hand. ‘Keep watch out here. Whistle if someone comes. We shall make London after all.’
She still trusts me. Even after his outburst in the cell, it seemed Pinchbeck believed Leander would obey. ‘Yes, Madame.’
She headed down the path and paused at the stable door. ‘And, once we’re in London, we’ll have a special seance, just for you to speak to your mother, shall we?’
Leander did his best to smile.
22
Nine of Swords:
Worry, Fear, Nightmares
The moment the stable door slammed behind Pinchbeck, Charlotte and Felix flew towards Leander. Charlotte flung her arms round his neck and held him tight.
‘Your locket, where is it?’ she asked in a hushed, urgent voice.
‘We’ve hidden our Cabinets,’ said Felix. ‘Five minutes’ walk away. We think it’ll be too far for her to order us inside.’
‘I think I lost my locket in the woods. I—’ Leander’s eyes were wide and wet.
‘We’ll find it,’ said Felix. ‘As soon as Pinchbeck is behind bars again, we’ll hunt until we find it. Don’t worry. The good news is that, without it, you can’t be ordered back inside, either.’
‘Listen, we have very little time.’ Charlotte gave Leander no opportunity to reply. ‘Our only hope is to have Pinchbeck recaptured alone, and pray my uncle comes to our aid. But Pellar intends to burn her alive.’ She pulled him down the track so Pinchbeck wouldn’t hear. ‘We’ve seen him. He’s near. Felix will keep Pinchbeck here. I’ll get the constable.’
Leander tried to speak. She put her hand on his lips.
‘It’s up to you to find Pellar and stop him. Whatever happens, you can’t let him reach Pinchbeck. If he kills her, we all perish.’ She took her hand away.
He nodded, puffed out his chest. Brave. ‘Stop Pellar. How?’
‘Trick him. Trap him. Anything.’
‘Take this.’ Felix pressed the holey stone into Leander’s palm. ‘This one works – it’s Pellar’s. It might help you find him.’
‘How will I know it’s safe to come back?’ Leander’s bottom lip was trembling, but he stood firm and resolute.
‘We’ll find you. Towards the town gates, that’s where we lost him,’ Felix said.
‘Wait—’ Leander called as they turned to leave. ‘What happens
when they catch Pinchbeck? We still don’t know how to free ourselves from her magic.’
A long pause. ‘If she’s locked away, we can stay somewhere nearby with our Cabinets . . . It might be the best we can do,’ said Felix.
‘The book – the Rat King,’ said Charlotte. There was a truth in those pages, she knew it. The secret picture on the spellbook showed a man shrinking down into a rat, just like the Rat King in the story. Was it possible? ‘If we can make Pinchbeck transform . . .’
‘It’s just a story,’ said Leander.
‘They’re all just stories – none of this is possible. Cabinets and ghosts and her, whatever she is. Stories come from somewhere, don’t they? If there’s a speck of truth . . .’ said Charlotte.
Suddenly Leander grabbed her wrist. ‘I saw something . . . in the cell. It looked—’
A noise from the stable. ‘There’s no time,’ said Felix. ‘I’ll try to keep her here.’ He ran up the path and into the lair of the beast.
Charlotte gave Leander’s hand a little squeeze for courage. ‘You can do it, Leander. Go.’
She rushed off towards the inn, and heard Leander’s footsteps going in the opposite direction as he heroically set off. He was so brave. If anyone could stop Pellar, Leander could. Her heart was rock-heavy for the two boys, each on their way to face their own terrible danger.
This won’t be the last time I see them. It won’t. Just keep running.
Frozen feet hit the stony road over and over again.
Felix touched his brother’s Cabinet one more time before slipping into the stable. A burning oil lamp hung from a rusty bracket. Pinchbeck was as bold as ever: an escaped criminal stealing a horse, with the gall to light the lamps as she went.
There was only one horse here. Would she try to rig it up to the carriage anyway, or did she plan to escape on horseback?
‘I told you to stay out,’ said Pinchbeck, her back to the door. ‘Since you’re here, get to untangling the rope.’ She turned and, seeing Felix, said, ‘Oh, it’s you, dear boy! Fine work tonight. I knew I could rely on you.’
Felix crouched by the pile of soggy, fraying rope and made a show of working loose the knots. ‘Yes. They’ll be hunting for you soon enough. Wise to stay low, not risk the open road.’ He meant to slow Pinchbeck down, but it was sound advice. There would be few travellers in the harsh weather. They’d stand out more on the road than if they bedded down and kept quiet.
Did he want her to escape?
No! Of course not. Pinchbeck had betrayed him, lied to him for years, and there was nothing to stop her finishing off Felix and the others for good. Any loyalty he still felt was his foolish heart playing tricks. Echoes of their years together, nothing more.
‘Where’s Leander?’ asked Pinchbeck.
‘Playing lookout. He said you told him to.’
‘Hmmm . . .’ Her tone made Felix uneasy.
‘I’m better with horses.’
‘You don’t know where mine are?’
‘I don’t,’ said Felix with genuine regret. Pansy and Marigold were good girls. He hoped someone could find them a home. They had a few healthy years in them yet.
Pinchbeck had the horse loose and was leaning on the wall. ‘I’m weary.’
‘You must be tired from sitting in that cell.’ Felix did his best to keep his voice light and steady. ‘I had to wait till the constable’s wife was alone.’
‘It’s more than tired, boy.’
A few seconds passed in uncomfortable silence. Pinchbeck tapped her finger on a wooden beam. Tap. Tap. Tap.
‘Faster, boy. You’re dawdling.’
‘The rats have been at this. It’s nearly gnawed through. Is there another?’ He was conscious of every move under Pinchbeck’s gaze, like an actor who had forgotten his lines.
Pinchbeck didn’t answer. When Felix looked up, she was staring at him intently.
‘Where’s your violin?’
Felix’s stomach rolled. They had taken a gamble by hiding their Cabinets. If the distance didn’t work, Pinchbeck could force them back inside and they’d be helpless.
‘Where’s your violin, Felix?’
‘I left it with the carriage.’ He feigned a renewed interest in the rope and pretended not to notice her gaze boring into him.
‘With the carriage?’
‘Yes,’ he said, then, quickly changing the subject, ‘I could cut off the rotten part of the rope probably.’
Not far away, Charlotte would be bursting into the inn and shouting for the constable. Somewhere Leander was leading Pellar on a merry dance round the town. Felix believed in them. They believed in him. He must act more convincingly than ever before.
‘It isn’t like you to be parted from it. That was foolish.’
‘Yes, I suppose. I was fretting over you.’
‘One might think you’re hiding it on purpose. Keeping it away from me.’ There was quiet danger in her voice, and the depth of silence that followed made Felix wish for the return of the storm.
‘Why would I do that?’ Felix even managed a smile as he stood up and dusted his hands on his trousers. He must be carefree, but not overly so. Worried about their escape, but not afraid of Pinchbeck. For comfort, he touched the wooden box in his pocket, making the smallest movement he could. He kept eye contact with Pinchbeck as he did so.
Her brow furrowed. Had she noticed? She had the alert stillness of an animal ready to pounce and Felix prepared himself to flee should she lunge.
Instead, Pinchbeck did something unexpected.
She started to cry. A fat, lazy tear trickled down her cheek.
‘You wouldn’t give up on me, would you?’ Her expression, so cold a moment before, was despondent and sad.
‘N-no,’ said Felix, wrong-footed by this sudden change.
‘All our years together. Did I not take good care of you? We’ve had some happy times, have we not?’
It was like a punch to the stomach. There had been good times. The home Pinchbeck took him from was no home at all. She was capable of dreadful things, but most days had been pleasant. The work had even been fun sometimes. Back when it had just been the two of them, they had invented so many of her seance tricks. One thing they had in common was that they both enjoyed an audience. He was a street child – he would never have had the chance to play his violin in all those fancy homes without Pinchbeck.
‘Of course,’ said Felix, forcing a tiny laugh, pretending not to notice her tear.
‘Didn’t we have some grand adventures?’
Pinchbeck had realized something was wrong. Perhaps she didn’t know exactly what, but things were not going her way. He knew this was her way of reaching out to him, of begging him for help. She leaned heavily on the wooden wall, countenance grey and tired.
‘We can still be great, you and I, when we take our act to London. This nastiness with the constable is nothing.’
It would be easy to go with her. If he told the truth, it’d all be over. She’d be so pleased, she might even let him have Isaak back—
‘The others have never been anything but a bother,’ Pinchbeck continued. ‘But we have a special bond, don’t we, Felix? We can go on together. Just the two of us as it used to be.’
Stop. Her words pulled Felix from any thoughts of betraying his friends. How easily she discarded Charlotte and Leander, how quickly she expected to be able to manipulate Felix. Whatever loyalty he had felt for Pinchbeck was gone. He’d spent as many years with Charlotte as he had with Isaak. Was she not his sister, too? He wouldn’t let this woman – this villain! – take another family from him.
It was hard to keep a gentle expression when he was in turmoil. Pinchbeck was waiting for a promise. Felix pretended not to notice anything was wrong.
‘Is there anything I can use to cut this rope?’ The horse was fretting as though it understood what was unfolding. Felix hunted for any tools lying around, deliberately turning his back on Pinchbeck to show a lack of concern. ‘Ah, here—’
; He reached for a hoof knife hanging above him. Pinchbeck’s arm whipped out with the speed of an adder’s tongue. She had Felix by the shirt and yanked him closer.
They were nose to nose. Felix’s toes slipped on the straw- covered ground as she pushed him against the wall.
‘What have you done, boy?’
Even in her weakened state, Pinchbeck was more than a match for a thin, ten-year-old boy who hadn’t eaten or slept in for ever. If Felix hadn’t been stolen, he’d be a man of eighteen, as strong and sturdy as his father.
‘What have you done?’
‘What do you mean, Madame?’
‘Why am I so weak? Why are you acting so strangely? You’ve turned on me, haven’t you?’
‘I’ve always been loyal.’
Pinchbeck continued to glare.
‘You’ve been a mother to me.’ The words were rat droppings in his mouth. Felix’s body was aflame with panic and the desperate prayer of the condemned man. ‘You’re helping me find my brother.’
Pinchbeck eased Felix back on to his feet and smiled. ‘Of course, you’ve always been faithful, my boy, that’s why I’ve had you longest of all.’ The smile grew wider. ‘Show me what’s in your pocket.’
Felix dared not move. Where was Charlotte with the constable? Someone had to come. Please.
Pinchbeck reached into Felix’s coat pocket and drew out Isaak’s box.
‘I . . .’ Felix fought to drag air into his lungs. There was no hope of regaining her trust.
‘Now we both know where we stand. Where is the other little wretch? Gone for the constable, no doubt? Remember, child, there’s no happy ending for you without me. Your fate is sealed to mine. Be a good boy and call them off.’
She lifted Isaak’s Cabinet above her head and held it to the lamp.
‘You know what happens if I burn this.’
23
The Star:
A Glimmer of Hope
It felt to Leander as if he’d been running for ever. This time he was running alone, into unthinkable danger. The darkness was suffocating.
Charlotte and Felix were safe, but for how long? And Leander was searching for Pellar – a terrifying creature who would sacrifice the children to get his revenge.
The Vanishing Trick Page 19