The Spellbinder (Tom & Laura Series), page 17
The Headmaster looked concerned. “You’ve cleared killing her with the boss?”
“Sure. Nothing gets in the way of the mission. If all goes to plan, well maybe we’ll go look for the girl later.” The Captain collapsed back into his chair with a sigh. “Personally, I hope my men kill her so we don’t have the bother.”
While this answer satisfied the Headmaster, Snood was anxious to know more.
“How can you be sure she will not act against us? You can’t simply dismiss a Class A that easily.”
The Captain opened his eyes and looked shrewdly at him. Snood was suddenly aware that the Captain was not anything like as drunk as he first appeared. A shiver ran up his spine as the man continued to examine his face. However, after a few moments of hard gazing the Captain seemed happy to answer.
“I’ve got snipers on the roof of the tower. If they see anybody making their way to Hobsgate they’ll shoot to kill. Their orders are ‘ladies first’, like proper limey gentlemen. She’ll be dead before she knows it, let alone has the wherewithal to cast a spell. If she goes to the train, I have snipers watching the station. They’ll kill anybody that even vaguely matches her description. Hell, they’ll kill anybody that tries to board the train. They have the latest Spencer sniper rifles and know how to use them. If the plan goes wrong, the snipers will kill Palmerston and the Prince rather than let them escape. Believe me, Reynolds, it’s all taken care of.”
The Captain closed his eyes, a slight smile playing on his lips and promptly fell asleep. Snood looked at the man with distaste and vowed to kill him as soon as he could. The world would be a much better place without the Captain in it.
“And then they shot those young ‘uns with their magic gun. It didn’t so much kill ‘em as cut ‘em to pieces.” Nan felt tears forming and strove to stop them from rolling down her cheeks. She knew she had to be strong.
Mick strained and rested his hand on his Aunt’s. It was a struggle as he felt so weak, but then it was a miracle he still lived.
“Is this gun of theirs easy to move?”
Nan pulled herself together and put her other hand on top of Mick’s. She shook her head. “Takes two to shoot it. More than that to move it, I’d say.”
“And Miss Young is safe?”
“Safe as can be. Fred took ‘em to the hut.”
“Word on the rest of us?”
Nan suppressed a sob. “No sign of any of ‘em. They may be captive in the cave. But I fear the worst. Below stairs is a shambles an’ no mistake. I’ve got the strongest of us comforting the rest. Yer don’t expect to witness bloody murder when yer just a maid.”
Nan found it difficult to come to terms with what she had seen. Why had that bastard killed those young men and women? It made no sense. She wanted to beat the Captain to death and was quite shocked with herself, her hands clenched and unclenched with the urge for revenge.
Mick tried to sit up, but as soon as his head was more than a foot above his body his head spun and he collapsed back onto the bed.
“Yer can’t do anything, Mick. One sick man against an army? Yer wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“I can’t let them do it, Nan. I need a rifle. There’s places I could go with a rifle that’d make a difference when the Prime Minister comes.” Mick sighed as he gave up the struggle to leave his bed. “There’s likely rifles in the cave. Tristan had a good one.”
“Might as well wish for a troop of cavalry while yer at it,” Nan said and laughed bitterly. “Do yer think we haven’t tried t’ get down there? A lot of good men went missin’ last night. Their loved ones don’t know whether to grieve or hope. The entrance is guarded and there’s no chance of getting into the tunnel.”
Mick gripped Nan’s arm and leaned towards her.
“There’s another way. Before the tunnel, there was a way down the cliffs. I’ll tell yer the secret and then yer go fetch Laura and Tom back. Tell them to take that route to Smugglers Cove and bring back a rifle or two, and me’be find out what’s going on down there.”
Nan shook her head.
“Why them? There’s men in the village who want to go.”
Mick shook his head which proved to be an unwise thing to do. When he recovered he held his Aunt in a stare.
“Because those two are clever, and Laura’s a powerful Spellbinder. She can do things none of us could think of. And Tom can practically heal the dead. He healed me and I were far gone. Our men might be in sore need of a good Healer. And, in any case, Laura wouldn’t go without Tom, so it has to be the both of ‘em.”
“If Fred gets caught fetchin’ ‘em back, he’s dead. Can yer live with that, Mick?”
“We’re all dead if he doesn’t.” Mick fell back onto his bed and drifted in and out of consciousness as Nan shook her head in disapproval.
The dorm room was in chaos with people talking quietly or sobbing in little groups. Cam collapsed when Leon was shot and had barely recovered her senses before she witnessed the death of the Spellbinders. Daisy had not been able to get her to speak since. She brought Cam back to the dorm and wrapped her in a blanket. Even so the girl shivered uncontrollably. The men build up a big fire in the fireplace. Everyone was suffering from shock and Cam seemed to be affected most of all. Her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering and she couldn’t stop crying.
Daisy saw how everybody’s eyes kept flicking to Cam. Despite her current distress, she was the one everyone looked to when they needed help. The students needed Cam to lead them. She was the outrageous one, the one who set up the pranks and she was the most fearless of them all. Without her leading them, they had no idea what to do.
“Cam, you have to take charge,” she whispered. Cam raised her head, revealing bloodshot eyes and a look of hopelessness that broke Daisy’s heart.
“Can’t do it…” Cam put her head back into her blanket and started sobbing again.
Daisy found anger rising in her breast. How dare they do this to Camilla? How dare they kill Leon? Who in hell did they think they were?
She had been living in terror for months from the dread of bullets she knew were coming. Dangerous dreams woke her at night. All the things that happened this night had plagued her nights. Now it had actually started she was so much less afraid. She hadn’t been losing her mind after all. She had been right.
The Headmaster had been sapping the Precogs confidence for months, ‘Your dreams are rubbish, nothing more than mass hysteria. Say anything to anyone and I will flog you in public.’ All lies to stop the Precogs from warning anyone. The more she thought about it the more her anger grew. We were tricked. I was tricked. How dare he?
She stood up and coughed loudly, bringing everyone’s eyes upon her.
“Leon’s dead for no reason except to scare us. They killed the Spellbinders because they feared them. We will be dead soon if we do nothing. We are supposed to be spies. Are we just going to let it happen?”
It was the longest speech Daisy had ever made. The other students seemed to be examining the floor, not one lifted their head to meet her eyes. Daisy waited a few moments and then tried again.
“They have killed our friends. They are going to kill us. They are going to kill the Prince of Wales. Are we just going to let them?”
“How do you know?” An anonymous voice asked.
“Because I’ve been seeing it for months.”
Bradford Damon stood up with fists clenched. His voice was an octave higher than usual as he shouted at her.
“Then why didn’t you say? This is your fault.”
Daisy strode over to the boy, and without saying a word, she hit him in the face. It was not a slap, but a forceful punch.” Bradford fell to the floor and those around him held him down when he tried to get up.
“They are the enemy, not me. The Precogs tried to warn you and none of you listened to us.”
“And they are not getting away with it.”
Everybody’s eyes shifted from Daisy. It was Cam who had spoken. She had risen to her feet and thrown the blanket to the floor. “That scum can’t kill Leon and get away with it. I will see them all hanging from a gibbet. We will save the Prince or die trying.”
They were a few murmurs, but the students’ eyes shifted back to the floor.
Cam moved her legs slightly apart and put her hands defiantly on her hips.
“Daisy has more guts than all of you put together. Are you going to let us fight alone?”
Tompkins got to his feet and shouted back at her “No! We will all fight and we will win.”
Then everybody was on their feet.
Just beyond the stables, a shadow moved. The two soldiers patrolling the area didn’t see it as it flitted across the grass before flattening against the ground as the men walked by. When they passed it slid into the hollow, where the blackest cloak Nan could find fell to the ground and Fred breathed a sigh of relief, gathering his resources for the journey ahead.
An owl hooted and he nearly screamed. It was a long walk through the forest to the hut and it was already two o’clock in the morning. He would need to get there fast, if Laura and Tom were to brave the cliffs while it was still dark. He got ready to run because there was much he had to do and so little time.
Chapter 25 The Path
When Fred reached the hut it was in darkness. There was nothing more than a latch on the door, but when he tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge. He peered at the door in the moonlight and it seemed to him that the door was welded seamlessly to the frame. The gaps between the timbers had also disappeared and its surface was a smooth as glass.
The sky was clear and a million stars shone. He shivered and blew into his hands to warm them. Though it seemed completely wrong to have to do it, he began to bang on the doors and yell as loudly as he could.
Tom stirred in his sleep. Someone was shooting at him and he crouched on the ground. A boy yelled at him to run. Then he was awake, or almost so. He cracked an eye open and heard Fred yelling. The gunfire had changed to the dull thud of flesh pounding on wood.
“I’m coming,” he shouted and the banging stopped. No one else was awake. He staggered in the general direction of the door and stumbled into someone’s legs. The straw they slept on impeded his progress. When he pulled at the door handle nothing happened.
“Let me in.” Fred said plaintive.
“Bind,” Tom muttered absently as he was still more asleep than awake. It was pinned to the door he remembered. Laura had bound the door and window shutters before they slept, thereby reducing the draft to something livable. He tore the bind in two and it burst into flames. With a bit of quick thinking he used a piece to light the lamp on the table and then stamped on the pieces before they set the hut ablaze.
“Wha..?” Dawn said as she put an arm over her eyes to stop the light blinding her.
“It’s me,” Fred said unnecessarily as he burst into the hut.
Tom shut the door quickly to try and preserve the heat. Fred shivered and poked at the bodies on the floor with his foot. There was a large amount of unladylike language from the women as he woke them up.
“Nan sent us. Esme, yer need t’ go and get a long rope.”
Esme didn’t ask any questions, but gathered her shawl about her and left the hut.
The embers of the fire still glowed when Tom stirred at them with a poker. He dropped twigs onto the embers and soon had the fire blazing again. Fred huddled close to the flames and told his tale.
When he described what had happened to Leon, Laura cried out at the horror of it and Tom clenched his fists. How could any man do such a thing? When Fred got to the murder of the Spellbinders it seemed to Tom that hanging the Captain would be too swift a punishment. Laura listened, wide-eyed and pale. She could so easily have been among the victims.
“What can we do?” Tom asked. It seemed to him that they could do nothing against so many trained men and their terror weapon.
“Mick wants tha t’ go down t’ cave ‘t rescue smugglers if tha can, but t’ get ‘im a rifle at t’ least.”
“We don’t know where the tunnel entrance is,” Laura pointed out.
“That’s guarded. Tha’s got t’ go t’ cliff way.”
The door burst open and massive man walked in. He was almost a giant and had enormous muscles. He carried a large coil of rope. Esme followed behind him.
“This is Joe,” Esme said, “He helped me fetch t’ rope.” Joe looked at the floor and mumbled something incomprehensible. He shuffled his feet like a child.
Laura noticed he wore a blacksmith’s apron. “Are you the blacksmith who makes metal run with binds?”
“Aye, Miss. Not that me powers are aught t’ yers.”
Laura smiled at him. “I’d never have thought of doing that. You are so clever.” Joe looked more uncomfortable and tugged at his cap.
“We need to get ready,” Tom said. He was feeling far from confident and tried not to show it. He had had too little sleep and now had to climb down a cliff in what seemed a suicidal mission. What was worse was that he couldn’t find his cloak.
“Snood told me how to write an incomplete bind. I should prepare one,” Laura pondered. “What would be best, Tom? I can only do one.”
“Tha can do many,” Joe blurted out. Laura stared at him, a puzzled look on her face.
“I can? But surely I’d get confused if I wrote several? I don’t see how…”
“In t’ smithy, I can’t make t’ binds last long, so I writes several, nearly done like. An a’ trigger ‘em one after t’other. Like this, Miss.”
He pulled paper and ink from his apron, something that made Tom smile. Tom was convinced that given a choice of food or materials to bind, even a starving Spellbinder would reject offer of food.
Joe wrote several incomplete binds to melt the candlestick, and then wrote the completing word one after the other on the pieces of paper. The paper flared almost instantly, but he wrote as fast as they flared and the candlestick melted and flowed. When the last bind flared the wax froze solid.
Laura nodded, she understood what he had done with the paper and it wasn’t the same as what she had done in Snood’s study. This wasn’t leaving the spell incomplete; it was more like not switching its power on. When he wrote the final word, energy could flow.
The others watched in fascination as Laura crafted a number of incomplete binds, which she carefully split about her pockets and person.
“I’ll carry t’ rope to the cliff for yer,” Joe offered. “Yer’ll need me strength t’ get yer over t’ cliff.”
They had to go now. It would be dawn within two hours and it was already getting light. It was essential they started their descent before anybody looking from Hobsgate could see them. Tom and Laura said goodbye to Dawn and Esme. Both women hugged and kissed Tom to his discomfort.
“Look for mi, Dad, please…,” Esme whispered in Tom’s ear. Yer can’t miss him. He’s got red hair.”
The walk back to Hobsgate seemed to take a long time. Tom was sure they must be lost. Joe and Fred walked without making a sound while Laura and Tom kept stumbling into rabbit holes and briars. However, it was Fred who gave up first.
“Go on without mi, I’m done.” The boy sat down and put his back against a tree.
Joe carried the coiled rope over one shoulder. Without giving the boy a chance to object he lifted and slung him over the other shoulder and started walking again.
“It’ll be better now I’m balanced.”
They stayed as far away from Hobsgate as they could until they had no choice but to cross the grass to get to the edge of the cliffs. It was already getting dangerously light and they crouched down to get as much concealment as they could.
Fred crawled along the edge of the cliff giving Laura palpitations because he kept vanishing from view and she was sure he had fallen over. He told them he had to find a carved mark on the rock face that would tell him where the path began.
When he found what he was looking for, Fred risked raising his head and waving for the others to join him. They crawled over to him, even Joe, who looked as though he had never crawled anywhere in his life.
To Tom, this part of the headland looked just like any other and he hoped Mick’s information was accurate. Joe fastened one end of his rope around Tom’s waist and started uncoiling the rest.
Fred was a mine of worrying information he was anxious to impart.
“Over tha’ go an’ feel for t’ ledge. There used t’ be a rope t’ hang onto but it’ll have rotted away. T’ iron rings should be there. Grab t’ rings and edge your sen down t’ cliff t’ right. Find t’ steps and go down ‘em till tha’ feels safe.”
“Got it,” Tom said through chattering teeth. “Slide over the edge of the cliff until I find a ledge. Grab onto an iron ring. Climb down the steps. Then what?” He couldn’t believe he was asking.
Joe grinned. “Undo t’ rope. Gi’ a tug an’ I’ll send Laura after yer. Then yer’ll be on yer own.”
‘I had to ask,’ Tom thought in a daze.
What Joe didn’t add was ‘hurry up about it because it’s getting light’, but Tom could hear it in his voice. Pretty soon they would be visible to the house and if they had snipers on the tower they would be sitting ducks.
It is one thing to plan to go to the edge of a cliff and slide over it, using the wet grass as support, and then it is quite another thing to find the courage to do it. Even with the comfort of the rope around his waist Tom didn’t find it easy. It was only the fear of being shot that spurred him on.
As he lowered his body over the edge the grass he held onto came loose and he started falling. The waves crashed on the rocks below and for a second he thought he was about to join them. Then Joe took his weight and a crushing force caught him around the waist and swung him towards the granite face. He hit the stone with some force. Clinging desperately to rough stone he began to slide as his fingers slipped. He was beginning to panic when his toes found the ledge. Its width was less than the length of his shoes and he swayed precariously only kept upright by the rope.
