Bones and Ashes (18 page)

He seemed disappointed. “You should return to class then.”

She was forced to nod in agreement and then a phantom hand took her arm and steered her away. It must be Mr Smith. She tried to struggle, but he was much stronger than her. He led her around the corner, out of sight of the interrogators. They stopped before a wooden panel. It slid open. She was pushed into the opening. It was similar to the passageway she and Cassade had found. Fear filled her stomach. She desperately tried to get free, but he held her firm. He guided her through the passageway in darkness, his hand still covering her mouth. She could feel him against her back. He seemed to know where he was going. 

She heard voices ahead. She could see two holes letting light in. He steered her to the peep holes and finally released her. She peered out through the holes. They were the same peep holes she and Cassade had come across.   

They were directly across from Miss Radbone’s mirror. Mr Crandell, the history master, was talking to an interrogator.  

“It’s proven useful having her here.” The interrogator was speaking. She could only partially see him; Mr Crandell blocked her view. “It allows us access to the school and gives us a reason to visit.”

“If only we could imprison them all,” Mr Crandell said.

“Unfortunately, there aren’t enough mirrors. We will just have to eliminate them one at a time.” They both chuckled. “Is there any students you need to bring to our attention?”

“I’m keeping an eye on Cassade Dralus. She’s far too opinionated. I saw her with a copy of that book by Mary Wollenstone.”

“She takes after her father.”

Mr Smith pulled her away before she could hear more. He didn’t cover her mouth this time. She followed him through the passageway. He opened a panel and they came out in the storage room where she had hidden the zombie.

She turned around. “You didn’t want me to speak to the interrogators, did you?”

A piece of discarded chalk floated through the air to a chalkboard that lay on its side. Words slowly appeared on the board. ‘They cannot be trusted’, it read.

“Do you think Cassade is in danger?”

The chalk hovered in the air. Finally, the word ‘yes’ appeared on the board.

The chalk fell to the ground and the words were wiped away. The door opened and then closed and she was alone. She felt the outline of the amulet through the pouch. She didn’t know what she was going to do with it now.

****

Raiden jumped down from the carriage. Tobin had stopped at the entrance to an alleyway. Bones and broken glass and other debris littered the narrow space between two coal blackened buildings.

The Inquisition had left after lunch and the remaining lessons had passed without incident. Miss Radbone was still at the school. The Inquisition had decided to allow her to stay for the moment.

Tobin picked Deg up and set him on the ground. The imp followed her down the alleyway, holding onto the hem of her dress. She turned and gently tugged the fabric out of his small green hands. “You have to go now.”

He looked up at her. “Deggo.”

“Yes, Deg, go.”

He shook his head. “Deg stay wiv Raadin.”

“You can’t stay with me. You have to go.” She gently pushed him away. He walked a few steps, then turned back to look at her. “You have to go. I don’t want you anymore.”

That was how her aunt made her feel - unwanted. She was no better than her. Deg had done things that were wrong, but then everything she did always seemed to be wrong as well.

“Stay here.” She walked back to the carriage. He stood watching as the carriage pulled away. He seemed so small and vulnerable, crouched amidst the rubbish. “I’m sorry, Deg,” she whispered, although he couldn’t hear her.

She had to resist ordering Tobin to turn the carriage around and go back for Deg. He had destroyed her room and broken her music box, but she couldn’t help feeling bad for how she had treated him. He had sat with her that night after Blaize had pushed her down the stairs and he had broken the mirror in Blaize’s room and stopped the lady in the mirror from choking her.

Raiden pushed aside the curtain and peered out of the window. The carriage had come to a stop. None of the other carriages were moving either. There seemed to be some sort of commotion up ahead. Tired with waiting, she opened the door. People were hurrying past, going the other way. She jumped down. “I’ll go and find out what’s happening,” she said to Tobin. She squeezed between the carriages. People shoved past her. She slipped between a hansom cab and a cart and nearly ran into a demon who was also trying to get through. She was pushed back against a horse. The horse reared up. For a second, its hooves were poised above her head. Before they could strike her, someone grabbed her and pulled her back.

“Thank you…” her breath caught in her throat as she turned around to face her rescuer.  

It was him; the boy who had been outside her window and in the courtyard the night of the party. His white hair made him stand out amidst the muted shades of black and brown. He wore grey gloves, but no hat. His dark eyes gazed at her intently.

She was unsure of what to say. She didn’t know what was correct in this situation. She thought of Miss Fairbank’s lessons in etiquette. She knew she shouldn’t be in a position where she would meet a gentleman unchaperoned in the first place.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted out.

“I could ask you the same question,” he said. 

A church bell began to ring. It was a warning bell. She needed to get back to her carriage.

His hand steadied her as people pushed by. Raiden didn’t look at him; they still hadn’t been formally introduced. It was too much of a coincidence he should be here, on this street at the exact moment as her. “Shouldn’t you be at school?” she said at last.

“Shouldn’t you?” he replied.

“Why are you following me?”

He raised a white brow. “I wasn’t aware that I was.” 

She flushed. “It can’t be an accident we should keep meeting like this.”

“Maybe it’s fate.”

She laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”  

“You don’t believe in fate?”

“No.”

“Then I must be following you. Why would I do that? Is there something remarkable about you?”

“No,” she said softly. “There’s nothing remarkable about me.”

The bell started to ring faster. People who had been milling about, unsure of what to do, now started running in panic. A man knocked into her. She would have fallen to the ground and been trampled if the young man hadn’t caught her. She immediately tried to pull away from him.

“Let me see you back to your carriage,” he said. He still had hold of her arm.

“That’s not necessary.”

He let go. She tried to push through the crowd. She was elbowed and shoved as people fought to get by. She was being pulled further away from her carriage.

Someone took her arm and began pulling her through the crowd. He had come back for her.

“A basilisk has escaped from the zoo.” She heard him clearly above the chaos, yet he didn’t raise his voice.

People heading in the other direction tried to pull them apart, but he didn’t let go. He shouldered his way through, taking her with him.

He opened the door of her carriage. He didn’t pull down the steps, instead he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her in. “Thank you,” she said for the second time that day. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Valic.

“Do you need a lift?” she asked. It was improper for her to offer him a lift, but she didn’t care. “It’s not safe out there with a basilisk running loose.” Surely, propriety could be set aside when a basilisk was loose in the city.

The briefest smile touched his lips. “I think the basilisk would be more afraid of me.” He shut the door and was quickly lost in the crowd.

She sank down onto the seat. She had that same feeling again in her stomach, like butterflies trying to escape. She didn’t notice as the carriage began to move. She only realised they had arrived at the museum when she looked up to see Tobin stood before her, his thick arms crossed over his chest, waiting for her to get out.

Chapter Fourteen

Inside the entrance of the British Museum of Natural History stood the skeleton of a dragon that stretched the entire length of the central hall. It was said to be the last dragon slain in England some 1600 years ago by Saint George, although many scholars doubted that it was a dragon; some believed it was an extinct species of wyvern instead. The museum had of course labelled it as a dragon. They claimed it was the only intact skeleton of a dragon in the world.

Xan had once told her that people didn’t go to museums to see extinct species of wyverns; they came to see dragons.

A skeleton, dressed in a dark grey suit, walked amongst the displays. He hurried over as soon as he saw her. “Raiden, my dear,” he said, taking both her hands in his. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Xan, her godfather, was the current director of the museum. He had glass blue eyes in his eye sockets today. They had the unfortunate habit of rolling around in his head, so the pupils weren’t always staring in the same direction.

Xan tucked her hand under his arm. “I was hoping you would come and visit me. We have a new specimen that’s just come into the museum. You will be the first to see it, other than myself of course.”

She had wanted to see him since she had returned to London, but she wanted to talk to him, not see his strange creatures. But she didn’t have a choice as he led her through the galleries, past bizarre, exotic beasts. One looked like a small child. It had green skin with froglike hands and feet. Its head was ridged, although the strangest thing about it was its thick orange, human-like hair. She didn’t have a chance to read the plaque as she was whisked by.

“Did Chester arrive?” she asked Xan.

Before she had left Northumberland, she had told Chester to go and find Xan. He had disappeared and hadn’t come back, so she had assumed he had made it here safely.

“Yes, he arrived,” Xan said with a sigh. “My dear, I’m not sure I’m the best person to be looking after a dog, especially a ghost one. I keep discovering some of my bones missing. I find them later, buried outside and covered with teeth marks.”

“It’s not for much longer. It’s just until Christmas. I didn’t know what else to do with him.” Chester, her dog, didn’t like being left at her family’s estates by himself. Somehow, he always managed to find his way to London. Aren used to look after him for her, but his new landlady wouldn’t allow any ghosts in her boarding house; not even a ghost dog.

“We will just have to hope there's still something left of me by Christmas.”

Xan led her through a door which was kept locked and out of bounds to the general public. Inside, a huge wooden crate took up most of the room. Piles of straw that had been used to pad the crate covered the floor. Xan carefully lifted away the wooden panel that made up one side of the enclosure. The creature inside had a body that was similar to a hippos, but it was covered with thick black fur. It had four flippers, a long snout, tiny black eyes, and a long horse like tail.

“What is it?” Raiden asked. She hadn’t seen a creature like it before and she was familiar with most of the species of creatures in the museum.

“It’s a bunyip, a type of lake monster from Australia. It was believed to be just a myth, but we have finally proved its existence.”

Raiden stared into its glassy dead eyes. It didn’t look monstrous. It looked sad. 

“What do you think?” Xan asked.

“It’s big.”

“It’s the only one in the world.”

“And you killed it?”

“Not myself personally, but there was no other way to prove it existed. We’ve had accounts of people coming across them, but we needed actual evidence.”

It was the only one of its kind in the world and it had been killed to prove it existed. That didn’t quite make sense to her.

A minotaur appeared in the doorway. He had to bend almost double to get into the room. On seeing Raiden, the minotaur roared and charged toward her. Raiden was picked up and crushed against his hard chest.

“Put her down, Grust,” Xan ordered.

She was abruptly dropped to the floor.

Grust, Xan’s assistant, stood over eight feet tall. Thick muscled arms, thicker even than Grub’s, were covered with downy black hair. Two huge horns sprouted from his bull like head and he had a gold ring through his nose. His trousers only reached to his mid-calf and his shirt sleeves only came down to his elbows. Xan bought Grust’s clothes from a tailor that specialised in making clothes for ogres, but they were still too small.

Grust grunted and made strange noises in his throat. Xan nodded, understanding him. “He apologises, my dear. He didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just been so long since he saw you last.” Grust continued to grunt. “It seems there's a small matter I need to deal with. If you will excuse me for a moment.” Xan patted her hand and went off to deal with the situation.

Raiden wandered back to the main hall, past the displays of strange creatures from around the world. She passed a collection of ancient troll skins from the Amazon and a stuffed yeti from Nepal. The museum had only opened a few years earlier. Before that the collections had been kept at the British Museum. It had taken Xan centuries to get the Inquisition to agree to give the collection its very own museum. They were still filling the galleries up with glass cases. Each time she visited, the collection had grown with some new addition.

Xan appeared as she reached the central hall. “Did you sort the problem out?” she asked.

“Yes,” Xan said. “Amenhotep III was trying to escape from his sarcophagus again. He really should be in the British Museum, but anything still moving they send to us.”

He escorted her round the displays to a bench. He sat down and patted the seat next to him. “Come and sit with me. I’m sorry I rushed you off to see the bunyip. I forget not everyone is as excited as I am about it.”

Raiden sat down next to him. “Have you heard anything from my father?”

“I spoke to him a few weeks ago through a mirror. He’s still on the Antonine Wall, keeping the demon hoards at bay. He said he will be back for Christmas.”

That’s what he had said last year.

“Is something troubling you, my dear?” Xan asked.

There was a great deal troubling her. “It’s nothing.”

He squeezed her hand. “I can think of nothing worse than being the age you are now. I know how difficult it is. I’ve gone through it many times.”

She looked at him doubtfully. “You have?”

“I’ve been watching over your family for over two hundred years. I’ve gone through it with your mother and your grandmother and your great grandmothers. The women of your family have always been quite extraordinary, but they have always had moments when they were lost and unsure like you are now.” 

“They all had magic.”

“It wasn’t magic that made them special. You may not be an evoker yet, but you are still a Feralis.” They sat in silence for a moment. “I wish I could make it easier for you, but you have to find your own way. I have no doubt you will. I know you’re going to become a remarkable and extraordinary young woman.”

He had such belief in her. The weight of that belief settled heavily on her shoulders. What happened if she wasn’t remarkable, if she never came into her magic? She didn’t want him to know she wasn’t special. She couldn’t bear to have him look at her with disappointment.

He squeezed her hand gently. “Raiden, if there's something troubling you, I may be able to help. At the very least, I can listen.”

Should she tell Xan about the lady in the mirror? He would know what to do with the amulet.

“Is it true there are mirrors that can control other magic mirrors?” she asked.

Xan was silent while he considered her question. It was difficult to work out what he was thinking; his skull was devoid of expression. “The Inquisition denies they exist, but there are master mirrors. The Inquisition has one at St James’s palace. There used to be another one in the country. The British Museum had it, but it disappeared from their vaults some years ago. It was most likely misplaced when they transferred the collections here.”

It hadn’t been misplaced; it had been stolen. The lady in the mirror had obtained a master mirror somehow. It was the only way she could have attacked Raiden through a mirror.

“Why do you want to know about master mirrors?” Xan asked. “If the Inquisition found out you were asking about them, they would be suspicious.”

“A man died in a fire last week,” she said. “It was like the fire that killed my mother. The Duke of Exeter was there. I think he killed him.”

Xan sighed heavily. “Raiden, you have no idea what you’re saying. There are things that happened in the past…”

“Then tell me.”

“It’s not up to me.” He took her hand and clasped it in both of his. “What happened to your mother cannot be undone. You should be worrying about parties and boys, not something that happened ten years ago.”

Parties and boys…she couldn’t believe how patronising he was being. He had never spoken to her like this before. In the past he had always listened to whatever was troubling her and taken her doubts and fears seriously.

She pulled her hand away and stood up. “You’re right; it’s done. I should stop thinking about it.” She tried to smile as though he hadn’t just hurt her. “I should get back to school. Miss Grimble will be wondering where I am.”

Xan rose with her. “You will come and see me again?”

“Of course.”

“I’m always here if you need anything. Anything at all.”

She had needed something, but he hadn’t helped her.

She was still holding onto his hand as he walked away. “Xan,” she called. She held up his arm which had fallen off. The fingers were still moving.

He came back to take his arm from her. “I do hate it when that happens.” 

****

That evening after supper, she sat in the sitting room with Cassade, drinking chocolate. Cassade lay on the sofa with a blanket tucked around her, while Raiden was curled up in the armchair, cradling a teacup in her hands. She was still hurt with the way that Xan had spoken to her earlier in the day. He had never spoken to her before as if she was a child.

She reached down to feel the shape of the amulet through the soft leather of the pouch. She was still waiting for the lady in the mirror to realise she had it. She couldn’t know yet. It was the only reason to explain why Raiden was still alive.

Her mind drifted to Valic. She knew his name now. But he hadn’t introduced himself properly. He had only given her his first name.

“Who is he?” Cassade asked. Her grey eyes met Raiden’s above her book. “It’s obvious you’re thinking about someone from the way you’re smiling to yourself.”

Raiden frowned. “I wasn’t smiling.”

Cassade raised a brow.

Raiden hesitated. She knew Cassade wouldn’t approve of her speaking to a boy when she was unchaperoned. “Do you remember the boy who was in the courtyard the night of the party?”

Cassade laid her book on her stomach. “What boy? I don’t remember seeing anyone else out there.”

“You must have seen him. He walked right by you. He had white hair.”

Cassade shook her head slowly. “I never saw anyone else in the courtyard that night. You were the only one out there.”

Perhaps Cassade hadn’t seen him in the darkness.

“Which volume are you on now?” Raiden asked, gesturing to the book.

“Number eleven. There are over twenty volumes, although some are missing. You should read them. It’s fascinating the information in here. Lord Grimwood was obsessed with creating the perfect zombie. He believed he could raise a zombie so lifelike you would never be able to tell the difference between a living person and a zombie. He believed we should all be living dead; it was the only way we would all be equal. He wanted a society made up entirely of the dead. He was quite mad.”

Raiden looked at her friend.

“What is it?” Cassade asked. “I know you, Raiden. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I overheard Mr Crandell talking to an interrogator about you when the Inquisition was here.”

“I’m not surprised. My father sits in the House of Lords and he’s vocal about his dislike of the Inquisition. He believes they have too much power.”

“You need to be more careful about what you say.”

“My father is right to speak openly against them. They have too much influence. We shouldn’t fear them. They have no more power than what we give them.”

She agreed with Cassade about the Inquisition, but she didn’t want to see her friend locked away in a mirror.

Peters appeared through the wall. He gestured for her to follow him.

“What does he want?” Cassade asked.

Raiden uncurled herself from the chair. “I don’t know.”

It would be so much easier if he could speak. She set her cup down on the table and followed him out of the room and down the staircase. She paused when they reached the main stairs. Something was wrong; her grandmother. It had to be her grandmother.