The Spellbinder (Tom & Laura Series), page 10
They were soon at the very edge of the cliff. Tom wondered if it ever crumbled and then wished he hadn’t thought of it. It seemed as if he could feel the earth moving beneath him. Cam lay flat with her head over the edge and the others slowly took up the same position. It made Tom breathless and dizzy as he stared down at the rocks and crashing waves below.
Despite his feeling of panic he noticed something interesting. There was a patch of water near the cliff face that was relatively calm. Tom’s family had visited relatives who lived by the sea and he had seen that effect before.
It had the look of water at the entrance to a harbor. If there were a cave below them open to the sea that was big enough, it was what you might see. Perhaps this place was called Smugglers Cove for a reason.
On the top of the battlements of Hobsgate, two people watched the group with army field glasses. They wore cloaks with their hoods up and their faces were hidden. One turned and spoke to the other.
“There has been an attempt on her life on her way here. The Hungarians will not give up, they favor the status quo, and for that, her death is essential. They will send other assassins.”
“Can we speed up the schedule? Is the boat in position?”
“I have sent messages and I hope it will happen, but messages take time. There is a strong rumor that the Brotherhood was behind the London event.”
“The Brotherhood has never succeeded in getting anyone into Hobsgate. Why should we worry about them now? Our man will replace Snood before he gets here and assist us in the mission.”
“Perhaps you’re right, but it is getting complicated. This was a difficult mission before the Class A became involved.”
As they walked back to the castle, Cam took Laura to one side. “Blackberry juice, it’s the right time of year and I used it to make the blood.”
“Oh,” Laura said and turned away.
Why are you so embarrassed? What did you think I had used?”
Chapter 14 Exploring
Magical powers are not fully predictable. Children are tested from the age of seven until they have gone through puberty, which is the most likely age their talents will become detectable. In some, the power fades during childhood and will be gone before they reach sixteen while in others it strengthens until adulthood.
On average, the strength reached at sixteen is the maximum that individual will ever achieve, but there have been exceptions. One Spellbinder acquired his full powers without warning or discernable reason at the age of forty and he is now of the seven Class A’s known in the world.
The Ministry of War has spent a considerable sum of money on research to try to understand the mechanisms behind these variations, but has made little progress.
Whatever the cause, the reality is that great power is rare. Within the Empire there are around a hundred Grade 1’s, about three hundred Grade 2’s, eight hundred or so Grade 3’s and maybe two thousand Grade 4’s. Grade 5’s are difficult to detect, but the those considered strong enough to be trained number about three thousand.
This means that on average only two Grade 1’s enter military service a year and only six Grade 2’s. To say they are a valuable resource is to make a massive understatement.
- from A Short History of Military Magics by Sir Anthony Barrett
Trelawney sat in his office in one of the comfortable red leather chairs that surrounded his coffee table. He held a pipe in his hands, though he hadn’t lit it in years. Across from him sat Belinda Mann, his secretary and confidant. She was knitting something. In all the years he had known her, she was always knitting, yet he had never seen a completed item. His opinion was that each night she pulled the work apart so she could start afresh the following day.
“The Precogs say that something significant is going to happen,” he told her. He was tired and he knew it showed.
“They are always saying that.”
“They say a part of England is to be invaded. How absurd is that? They talk of castles and battlements and all sorts of rubbish. It’s as if they are looking back to four or five hundred years ago.”
“There is no country or empire strong or stupid enough to attack England. You know that. The Royal Navy would wipe out their supply lines in hours, the British Army has never been better equipped and there are plenty of soldiers resident in England. The Precogs must be wrong.” Belinda said this mildly, concentrating on her knitting.
“Maybe it will be a token attack, on the Tower of London or Windsor Castle, maybe an assassination attempt on her Majesty, or Prince Albert, or one of their children.”
Belinda stopped knitting and looked at Trelawney. “All that would do is bring the might of the Empire down on their heads. Who would risk such a thing? Nevertheless, the balance of power has been upset and people do desperate things in such times. You have, for example.”
Trelawney tapped his empty pipe against the arm of his chair.
“You mean by declaring Miss Young as a Class A?”
“And sending her to Hobsgate as a spy. The balance has been upset, the Hungarians will be twitchy. They have no Class A’s and yet they are an empire. Can you imagine how galling it must be for them that we have yet another? And she is so young, who knows how powerful she will become and how many years she will be able to serve the Empire?”
“Moreover, you have sent her into danger when she should be being protected by a battalion, at least. Your judgment has been warped by your obsession with there being a spy in MM3.”
Trelawney shook his head though he half agreed with her.
“Perhaps, but she should be safe enough at Hobsgate. She knows about Snood and he wouldn’t dare make a significant move against her. He will try and turn her, not kill her. The rest of our enemies don’t even know where Hobsgate is.”
Belinda sighed.
“Can you be sure about that, Ernest, can you really be sure?”
“I need to know who Snood is working for, Belinda. I will not have my life’s work destroyed.”
Belinda went back to her knitting while Trelawney went as far as putting tobacco in his pipe before remembering he no longer smoked.
“Can we walk all the way around the castle?” Laura suggested.
Daisy giggled and Leon smiled.
“It’s not a …” he began.
“Castle,” Cam said loudly, taking over the conversation. “It’s a country house built in the style of a castle. The parade ground used to be a garden, believe it or not. It’s only about a hundred and fifty years old, built long after castles were any use in warfare. An eccentric Lord of the Manor, we are not supposed to know the name of, had it built as a summer retreat. I gather it became Crown property when he was caught with oodles of smuggled French brandy.”
“Why can’t we know his name?” Laura asked. Cam gave her a withering look.
“We aren’t supposed to know where we are. Hobsgate’s location is an official secret.”
Cam grinned and lowered her voice. “Of course, all the seniors and most of the second years, like me, know exactly where we are. We wouldn’t be much use as spies if we couldn’t find that out, now would we? But we play along with the fiction that we don’t know where it is because it keeps the Headmaster and Sir Ernest Trelawney happy.”
“So where are we?” Tom asked quickly. Cam smiled and patted him gently on the back as if he was a dog.
“Good try, but you will have to work a little harder than that to find out.”
Hobsgate was built in the shape of a castle though there was no moat. The giveaway that it wasn’t a castle were the large windows on every floor. To give some semblance of defense, the windows were set behind iron bars, making the place look a little like a prison. Round towers at each of its corners joined four rectangular buildings together to form a keep. This was the parade ground, Cam had told them about.
“You can walk around the top of the walls, just like in a real castle,” Cam told them.
There was a square building inside the keep which rose much higher that the corner towers. Cam saw Tom staring at it.
“You can go to the top of Hobbs Tower too. That’s where the cannons are, four pointing out to sea and four to the East as the land curves away in that direction. You can see their barrels sticking out if you look closely.”
Tom had good eyesight and once they were pointed out, he saw the barrels clearly. The ends had caps on to protect them from the weather.
“They are working guns?”
“They were until the Headmaster sent the army away. You are not allowed up there. Only the Headmaster and the housekeeper have keys since the army left.”
As they moved further around the building they saw a set of stables had been built against the far wall. Laura had been counting doors into Hobsgate as they walked. There were seven doors into the building, not counting the ones in the stables. Excluding the main doors at the front, the others were all small oak doors, ribbed with wrought iron and fitted with study looking casement locks.
Laura spotted a cellar entrance to the side of the stables taking the form of two large wooden doors set at an angle just above the ground. The doors were bound with enormous padlocks set into steel plates.
They stopped in a sheltered spot a hundred yards or so from the stables. A clump of bushes in a dip in the land sheltered them from the wind while letting the sun shine its rays on them. When they sat down they were hidden from sight by the bushes.
As soon as they were settled, Daisy spoke to them urgently. She sounded terrified.
“We are in great danger, you two are going to have to save us and the school.”
Having made this amazing pronouncement, Daisy became embarrassed, looking everywhere, but at them.
“I’m sorry? What danger?” Tom asked. However, Daisy sat mute. She shuffled over to Leon and whispered in his ear. Leon listened carefully and then looked solemnly at them.
“Daisy is a Precog. She told me she dreamed she had to say that to the two of you. At this very spot; here and now.”
Laura sat facing Daisy and took the girl’s hands in hers, “If you know something, Daisy, it is important that you tell us. We don’t bite.”
Daisy looked away and then she spoke in a voice so low that Tom almost missed her words.
“Something bad is coming. All the Precogs in school know it, but none of us know what it is. You two are the key, the only ones who might save us all.”
“Haven’t the Precogs told someone in authority?” Tom asked.
“The school doesn’t take any notice of Precogs, Tom,” Cam said. “In spring, the Headmaster made an announcement that Precogs must not tell people anything about the future and any who did would be whipped and expelled. I would imagine that’s one reason that Daisy finds it so hard to speak now. She’s not very good with the thought of pain. She’s here because her father and mother were killed last year. The enemy shot her parents in front of her before sending her and their corpses back to England.”
Daisy burst into tears, got to her feet and ran back towards Hobsgate.
“Oh God. Now what have I done with that big mouth of mine.” Cam got up and ran after Daisy.
“What do you think of Daisy’s precognition?” Laura asked Leon. “She’s your friend.”
Leon gave the matter some thought before answering.
“Daisy wouldn’t have said anything unless she was terrified and felt she had no choice. She’s got predictions right before. I would say something is going to happen. However, we cannot discuss this further at this time, as I must go to her.”
He stood up and went after Daisy and Cam leaving Tom and Laura alone for the first time that afternoon. Laura stood up and prodded Tom.
“Now, let us find out about escape routes. I told you we needed to move quickly and this prediction only makes it more urgent.”
They made their way towards the stables. Laura pointed out the cellar doors to Tom, noting that someone had opened them while they were sitting in the bushes. She concluded that the stables were weakest part of the building’s defenses.
“We could jump off the parapet and slide down the stable roof in an emergency.” Laura said, looking up at the stables sloping tiled roof.
Tom was not impressed by the idea. “There’s a ten foot drop to the roof and if we don’t go straight through it when we land, we slide for another twenty feet before falling over a ten foot drop. Rather you than me.”
“But look, Tom, there’s that pile of horse dung to fall in and break your fall.” Laura said and she grinned. Now Tom had pointed out the hazards she didn’t fancy that route either. Maybe she could turn them into birds? A Spellbinder transforming herself was recognized as a major risk. There was no telling what height you might be flying when the bind burnt out, or how long you might have to exist as a bird. It was last resort thinking and she needed to do better than that.
They went to look at the cellar. There was no one around. There was a stone ramp for moving barrels into the cellar with steps set down the center. Tom had seen such arrangements in Taverns for rolling beer barrels. It seemed unlikely that a school would need such a facility.
Laura was already halfway down the steps, ‘too good an opportunity to miss’, she thought as she descended the rest of the way. She knew Tom would follow her. She understood him well and saw no need to look back and check.
The cellar was lit only by the light of the open doors and when she moved out of its light she could see barely anything in the gloom. She was standing with her arms outstretched when Tom bumped into her.
“Perhaps the Class A Spellbinder could make us a light?” he asked. Laura thumped him before scribbling on a piece of parchment. The parchment began to glow with a bright cold white light. Using it as a torch they continued deeper into the cellar.
In the light of the parchment they saw stacks of barrels, not massive beer barrels, but smaller ones, the sort you might put gunpowder in, or flour. Many were new, but there were some that looked as though they might have been down in the cellar for a very long time.
There were scuffmarks on the floor that showed that the barrels had been moved recently. At the back of the cellar, they saw a trail of water on the floor, which appeared to originate from behind a stack of crates. Deeper in the cellar they found a set of narrow steps leading upwards. They were considering going up the steps when they felt a firm hand grip each of them on the back of their neck.
“And what are yer doing ‘ere?” Laura recognized the voice as that of Mick, their driver from the station.
“Hello, Mick, isn’t it? We were looking around the school. Nobody said we should not come down here,” Laura said, trying to sound apologetic.
“Coming down here using your Spellbinder tricks… But can’t help with something as simple as a twisted back, can you?”
Tom deduced this was not a random question.
“I can, Mick. I’m a Healer. Let us go and I’ll help you, I promise.” The hands withdrew from their necks and Tom and Laura reached back to rub the ache out of them.
Tom turned and saw Mick without his clock and muffler for the first time. He was a surprisingly young man, unshaven and wearing the working clothes of someone who lived by the sea, big boots and waterproofs as well as a large knitted pullover that had seen better days.
Having released them, Mick appeared uncomfortable with the situation as Tom approached him, hand outstretched.
“It’s nothin’ really,” he said as Tom reached to run his hand over the man’s back.
As soon as Tom touched Mick, he knew the problem was far from nothing. Tom was still unused to the new power that flowed through him whenever he touched somebody’s skin. It was as if he could see inside them and their injuries shone out a bright and unnerving red. Mick had a severe back problem, some of the bones of the spine had slid sideways and he must be in acute pain.
Tom drew hard on his power and Mick grunted as his bones shifted back into place. Cartilage grew and damaged bone was replaced by new at a speed that would have stunned the greatest Healers in the world. The red faded in Tom’s mind and he knew that Mick was whole again.
Mick straightened his back, and then flexed it. He gave Tom a strange look before he spoke.
“I thank yer.”
“It was a fair exchange, though perhaps neither of us should say anything to anyone?” Tom did not want the levels of his skills exposed. He suspected that Mick knew he had done something extraordinary. Most everybody knew the limits of Healers.
“Eye, I’ll not say a word, yer have me word on that. Yer shouldn’t be down ‘ere though.”
In a strange way, a level of trust had been established between them. All of them felt it, though Mick was not used to being beholden to people. “I’ve got a pot of tea on, if yer’d like to share.”
“That would be most kind of you,” Laura said. “We would love to.”
The three moved through the cellar together, new, but certain friends.
Chapter 15 Snood Get Taken for a Ride
Dominican Snood was a suspicious man who always checked out things that might threaten him and always assumed the worst of people. He was far too arrogant to be paranoid, but had a well developed instinct for survival. In particular, he was a man who knew that death walked on sunny afternoons with the birds singing. It was when you least expected it that the runaway coach and horses would plough into you.
The platform at Paddington Station was empty of other passengers, as were the coaches of the train. Unlike Tom and Laura, Snood knew that the train he was about to board was unscheduled and that the railway staff would stop anyone but him from getting onto the platform.
