The blue flames, p.60
The Blue Flames, page 60
“On the contrary. I find it endearing.”
“Well, I thought I might try it for once, seeing how things are. And you can’t go wrong talking about the weather when there’s not much else to say. That’s an old ploy your mother used whenever I got myself worked up about something. Drove me mad every time. But it always worked—which was also irritating.”
Simon’s smile softened. “She misses you.”
Delia drew in a deep breath and nodded. “I miss her, too.”
Caradoc glanced at Simon. “I’m glad you got the chance to see your family. Must’ve been hard leaving them again.”
“It was, to be sure. But it was a little easier knowing I was going from one home to another. My mother mentioned you too, by the way. She still thinks of you as a troublemaker.”
“Of course he is,” Delia said, nudging Caradoc’s shoulder with her own. “We wouldn’t have him any other way.”
Caradoc smile faded as he lifted his eyes to the storm clouds. Snow had begun to fall over the water in swirling wisps of white. His scarred brow creased with worry.
“What if this really is the end for us?”
Simon rested his hand on his thigh. “Well, it was never going to last forever. Few things do in this world. Chapters end. Stories finish. But it makes way for new ones.”
Caradoc shook his head. “The next chapter may be the toughest yet.”
Delia put her hand on his shoulder again. “Probably. But what a dull, meaningless story that plays it safe all the way through. I could’ve kept on living my plain and simple life in Mardale, working the farm, looking after my children and grandchildren. A good life, to be clear. No shame in it. Except that it would have meant turning my back on people in need. I could’ve made excuses for keeping out of things, out of harm’s way. But it would’ve gone against everything I am. And I can honestly say—no matter what comes next—I’m glad to be here on this log, on this beach, with all of you.”
Simon and Caradoc both smiled. She reached out and put her arms around their shoulders.
“My boys,” she said softly. A tear came to her eye as she looked out over the bay again.
They sat there for a long time, taking comfort in one another’s company. There was no need to say anything else, or to continue fretting over plans and coming dangers. Only when this thought occurred to him did Caradoc raise the spyglass to his eye again.
“Still no signal?” Delia asked.
“No.”
Simon stood from the log and tugged on his coat sleeves. “I’m going to have a look at that burner. There’s got to be a way to fix it. Then at least a few of us might have a chance.”
He marched off across the sand towards the Drifter. A few moments later, the sound of shouting voices rose above the noise of the wind. Delia and Caradoc turned to see Chester, Jeremy, and Evering gesturing at a pile of sticks heaped between them. Chester and Evering had both picked up the heaviest one and were shouting at one another while Jeremy shook his head and looked as though he was trying to reason with them.
“Are they fighting over sticks?” Delia asked, incredulous.
“Looks that way,” Caradoc answered.
She sighed. “I better get over there. Before they start the Battle of Fenmire ahead of schedule.”
Caradoc stood and helped her to her feet. She squeezed his hands in thanks, then strode off towards the arguing trio. As she went, his attention was caught by Harriet and Martin. They were both looking his way while talking to one another. He couldn’t hear what was said, but soon saw Martin nod his head in approval. She began to move away, then hesitated and made a motion as if inviting him to come along. He stuck his hand into his coat pocket and nodded again as if to encourage her to go on without him.
When Caradoc realized she was heading straight towards him, he dropped his gaze to the ashen sand. She reached the log a few moments later, then stood facing the water with her arms folded and her eyes fixed on the distant storm. The brief call of cranes echoed from somewhere farther down the shoreline.
“This unspoken agreement we’ve made not to speak to one another,” she said. “I don’t much care for it.”
He hesitated, still staring at the ground. “Nor do I.”
She drew in a deep breath and rubbed her arms against the cold. “Back in Sparrowhaven, you told me you didn’t believe it was the last time I would ever hold a child in my arms. The day we left, after you’d gone to the stables, Beatrice said almost the exact same words.”
Caradoc couldn’t help but smile. “Did she?”
“Yes. I’ve been going over it in my mind. And I think it means we must surely survive this. There will be no children to carry in Stalikos Prison or the Entrian court. So there must be a way out. Something we haven’t thought of. Something we’ve missed.”
“That’s a generous amount of confidence to have in my words. Too generous, I think. I meant what I said. I’m sure Beatrice did as well. But we’re no prophets.”
“You don’t have to be,” Harriet replied. “I have faith in her judgment. And I will always have it in yours.”
She finally looked at him. He couldn’t bring himself to do the same.
“I know I spoke of surrender before,” she continued. “And I’m usually the last one to suggest anything dangerous. But have you considered the Key?”
Caradoc was stunned. He let out an incredulous scoff, nearly laughing at himself.
“By the saints! I’ve been so preoccupied with everything else . . . oh, what a fool I’ve been! A mad, raving fool!”
For the first time in three weeks, he looked her full in the face with a widening smile.
“Harriet Whistler, you are a genius. Come on!”
They hurried back to the others. After Delia had managed to break up the argument between Chester and Evering, everyone else had begun to gather together again. Only Simon seemed not to notice, still busy tinkering with the Drifter. Caradoc called him over.
“Harriet’s had a brilliant idea. We can use the Spider Key to open up a passageway. Escape to an Otherworld.”
“Oh! That is brilliant!” Evering said.
“But is it even possible?” Margaret asked. “I thought the Key only allowed two to pass through the Veil. To prevent hosts of people flocking between worlds.”
“That’s true. But it may be that only two are allowed through at a time. If I take everyone separately, we should be able to make it work.”
“Can you control what kind of world we end up in?” Jeremy asked.
“That’s a bit trickier,” Caradoc answered. “I can try, of course, but doors in the Veil are always opening and closing at random. It’s possible we might be separated, but only for a short time, until I can get us all back to Eriaris.”
Delia frowned. “And when we do get back? Won’t we find ourselves marooned on this island again?”
“Not necessarily,” Simon replied. “Otherworld travel is a funny thing. Wherever you go once you’ve crossed, however far you move from the point of entry, that’s exactly how far you’ll have moved once you return. So all we really need to do is find some place where we can make an easy journey a few dozen miles to the west, then we pop back to this side and we’re on the mainland again.”
“That’s a long way to walk,” Margaret said. “It could take days.”
“Not if we took the horses with us,” Harriet replied. “Once we’re out of Eriaris, Caradoc could get to Riverfall through the Veil and use them to take us the distance.”
Martin looked at the Keyholder. “That’s an awful lot of jumping between worlds. Are you sure it would be safe?”
Caradoc nodded. “As long as we choose some place quiet and don’t remain there for more than a few hours, we should be fine.”
“Why no more than a few hours?” Ink asked.
An uncomfortable look passed around the group.
“If a person stays too long in an Otherworld,” Simon answered, “they’ll begin to lose their memory. First about their own world, and then about who they were in it.”
“The Keyholder Book doesn’t say how long it takes before that will happen,” Caradoc said, “but I shouldn’t like to test it any farther than I’ve already done.”
Chester waved a hand through the air. “Aw, it won’t come to that. We’ll be fine. A lot more fine than going home with the Entrians anyway.”
Ink stepped towards Caradoc. “But about what Seherene? Can’t we wait a little longer for her signal? If they’re really willing to hear you out, ain’t this your chance to prove your innocence? Can you really just throw that away?”
“I don’t think there was ever much hope of them hearing us,” Martin said. “I was holding my tongue about it, but if we had seen a signal, I’m sure it would’ve only been a trap.”
Margaret nodded. “I was thinking the same.”
“No,” Ink said with a frown. “No, she wouldn’t double-cross us like that!”
Evering scoffed. “Do you know who you’re talking about? This woman has been after our necks for the past nine years. She won’t start playing nice now, especially not when she’s got us where she wants us.”
“She’s not some monster!”
“Ink,” Caradoc said, “I know what you’re saying. And I know it would mean breaking the agreement I made with her. But I also think she would understand.”
They were all agreed in the end, even Ink—if reluctantly. Caradoc spent a few minutes determining where the Veil might be thin and the crossing easier. He soon pointed out a spot where the ridge at the head of the beach swelled up to a rocky promontory a little farther to the south. They gathered what few supplies they had and followed him towards it.
The sides of the promontory were quite steep, but a gentler slope was found along the ridge. Once they crested it, they were surprised to see how high they had climbed. The promontory ran on for another hundred feet or so before dropping sharply down into the water. Six haggard trees stood at its head behind them, set almost in a half-circle.
As the Colonists clutched their coats and collars tighter around them, Caradoc paced the area, hunting for every pulse and ripple of energy to be found. After a long minute, he paused, shut his eyes and tilted his head as though listening, then turned and pulled the glove from his left hand. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the wind.
“This is the spot. Ink, come here. You’re going through first.”
The boy hurried forward, blinking snowflakes from his eyelashes.
“We’ll have to join hands for this to work,” Caradoc said. “The mark will begin to shine on the back of your hand, but it isn’t permanent. You’ll see doorways opening and closing, like a vision or a dream. You might feel a strain, like something’s pulling you away, but it won’t be painful. Are you ready?”
Ink tugged his top hat down around his head. “No. But go on and do it anyway.”
Caradoc took his left hand in his, then focused on the Key with fierce concentration. It begin to throb, but still he saw no light. He shut his eyes and tried again. The air quivered and tingled around them, pricking up the hairs on his arm. It soon fell still again. He opened his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Ink asked. “Ain’t it working?”
“I think it’s me who ain’t working. I haven’t slept in a while. Let me try again.”
The second attempt fared no better. The Veil was silent, his vision dark. He stepped back and shook his head.
“God. This can’t be happening now.” He glanced at the others with a worried frown. “I don’t know what’s wrong. My heart . . . it may be too weak—”
“That can’t be it,” Simon said. “Perhaps the place isn’t right. Maybe we should find another.”
“Maybe you only need a bit more time to rest,” Delia replied.
“Hey!”
The sudden exclamation came from Ink, who tipped his hat back on his brow as if a thought had literally struck him in the head.
“‘Hey’ what?” Caradoc asked.
“The Key! I’ve just realized! It’s enchanted, right?”
“Yes.”
“And we know now that Cassrians can play a part in enchantments, right?” He threw up his hands. “Well, that’s all we need! We all join hands—like we do when Riva’s healing someone—you switch on that Key as best you can, and that oughta do the trick!”
Jeremy grinned at the others. “I think he’s on to something.”
“That’s brilliant, Ink!” Harriet cried, half in relief.
“I know it is! Now, come on! We gotta get linked up!”
The wind gusted bitterly as they hurried to form a circle. Jeremy put his hand on Martin’s shoulder to make up for his missing limb. Caradoc looked around doubtfully. He wasn’t confident it would work. But he was more than willing to try.
“Is everyone ready?”
“Just make it someplace warm!” Chester called out.
“And without any people around,” Evering added.
“Perhaps we might avoid any black sand beaches as well,” Margaret said with a nervous smile.
He nodded. “I promise.”
After another deep breath, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the effort. The palm of his left hand began to throb again, then grew warm. A few gasps from the others told him the symbol had started to appear on their own hands. It was working.
From out of the darkness appeared the luminescent swirls and waves of light which made up the Veil between Otherworlds. As the portals danced open, images began to materialize. He focused on the nearest one and held onto it.
The scene showed a great green hill dotted with trees. There were strange buildings in the distance. Tall and square. Even farther away, a steep cliff dropped to a vast sea spreading out to the horizon. There was a noise of gulls there, too, and random barks from creatures he could only guess were like the sea lions on the southern coast of Eriaris.
Suddenly, the dance of ephemeral ripples at the edges of the landscape grew frantic. The light pulsed, then dimmed. Something flew past his eyes—dark and quick as lightning. There was a loud rush of wind, and before he knew what was happening, he was wrenched out of the Veil and thrown back to Fenmire.
Caradoc opened his eyes to find the others already looking at one another, bewildered. Thick fog swirled around them like the beginnings of a cyclone. A moment later, it slowed enough that they could speak again.
“Bloody hell!” Ink cried.
“What kind of place was that?” Chester asked.
Caradoc shook his head. “I don’t know. But something tried to steer me away from it. That’s never happened before.”
“You’ve never tried this before, either,” Simon said.
“Right. Right, well, we can try again. I’ll try again.”
Once more, he shut his eyes and slipped back into the currents of the Veil. This time, none of the portals would stay open. He saw snatches and glimpses of different places but each time he directed his focus for a closer look, something shut the door on them. A sense of dark terror suddenly gripped him. He tried to pull his mind back to Fenmire, but nothing happened. Panic began to take hold, tightening around his heart. The dark figure flashed again across his vision, dimming the light of the portals as though it were swallowing them up. The twirling waveforms became rigid and jagged, then began to break and fall apart like threads of fine glass. A deep rumble echoed in his head, sounding more like an unearthly roar at every moment.
“Hey!” Martin shouted, sounding a mile away. “He doesn’t look very well! Shake him, Jeremy! Wake him up!”
“Caradoc, stop!” Harriet’s voice called. “Stop! It’s hurting you!”
Simon shouted above the rest. “Let go! Everyone, let go!”
The black figure flew at him again, this time from straight ahead. He couldn’t dodge it. He couldn’t turn. He had no control at all. The moment it struck him a searing pain shot through his head, and he pitched back into the snow with a cry. He opened his eyes. His hands were shaking, his skin cold and damp. He sat up and glanced down at his hand. The light of the Key had already faded. The others began to rush towards him.
“Stay back!” Ink cried, holding up a hand. “Stay back! Give him space!”
The boy hurried forward and knelt in front of him. Caradoc blinked, breathing hard as he tried to clear his vision. Little by little, the pressure eased around his heart.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Ink said. “It looked like something pushed us out, but wanted to keep you in.”
Before Caradoc could answer, a gust of wind enveloped them, driving the fog away in every direction. The Colonists looked around, confounded by the sight. Ink and Caradoc both rose to their feet. In a matter of moments, the ground on which they stood was entirely clear, as though a great breath had blown away the heavy mist. The noise of rushing wind faded. Ink peered around Caradoc, then started back and let out a curse.
There, standing at the top of the path they had climbed, was a fierce-looking Entrian lord, fully armed and finely dressed. Behind him was a host of Colonist-hunters.
“Looked like you were having some trouble there, Keyholder,” the man said, a cold smile crossing his lips. “Do you want us to wait while you try again?”
Chapter 57
Angel of Reckoning
Ink seethed at the very sight of Lord Pallaton. With a smug sneer, the Entrian raised his hand and pointed two fingers towards the Colonists. At this sign, the hunters broke into two groups and surrounded them on both sides, every hand holding a weapon and every pair of eyes watching for the first excuse to put them to use. Ink counted thirty of their number. The other twenty must have been sent off in another direction. As they moved in, the Colonists gathered closer together, trying to steel their nerves and appear ready for a fight.
“What’s the final account, Lord Vaddon?” Pallaton called out.
“Ten, my lord,” one of the hunters replied. “The woman known as Fen Pitman appears to be missing, but there are two more unidentified. That man there. And this woman here.” He nodded towards Chester and Margaret.
