Isabella's Heiress (35 page)

Now, as they headed towards Newgate, he said a silent prayer of thanks for the fact that Sister Ignacia was back.

At Mansion House, a wave of noise washed over them as they exited into a junction where seven roads converged into a seething cauldron of omnibuses. Horses pulled frantically at their bridles as they competed for space on the cobbled roadways with barrow boys and flower sellers.

They navigated their way along the twisting cobbled roads, doing their best to avoid oncoming hooves as well as the attention of the realms residents as they desperately tried to waylay the two guides in a vain attempt to get them to intervene on their behalf. Usually a stern look was enough to dissuade them but it was never something that Father Eamon enjoyed doing.

They crossed into Poultry and headed north west towards Cheapside as smoke and steam, pouring from vents in the pavement and road, filled the air and clogged
up the lungs of all those within twenty feet. Soot drifted on the breeze, settling on anything it touched and before long both Father Eamon and Sister Ignacia's faces were grimy, giving Sister Ignacia the look of a street urchin. Even her clothes, normally awash with colour were now dour and grey.

“I cannot believe that Emma was allowed to proceed down this road. Are you mad?”

“I could not have stopped her. What could I have done? Physically restrained her? Locked her in her room? How would that have helped? No, my hands were tied on this one.”

Sister Ignacia looked at him and grumbled, clearly not convinced.

A low mist hung on Cheapside as they headed towards Newgate, the ornate gas lamps that were dotted along the pavement barely making a dent in it. Horses slid on the broken cobbles as they struggled to cope with the quagmire that the road had descended into whilst people, ragged and emaciated, headed to shelter as the night closed in.

Father Eamon looked up and gave a half-satisfied smile. “'Tis getting dark. That will clear the streets.”

Sister Ignacia gave him an uncertain look, “How is that going to help?”

“When Emma gets out, she will not be alone of that I am sure. They will not let her go without a fight, so we should be prepared also. For that it is best if no one gets in the way.”

Father Eamon tried not to let his voice betray his feelings at the way that things were going. The doubts in his mind had been increasing the closer they got to Newgate Street. He had tried to banish them but they only got stronger as the stakes rose with every passing minute.
What if he was wrong? What if she was captured? Had been captured? Father Eamon forced that prospect to the back of his mind.

It soon became impossible to work out where the pavement finished and the road started. The mist was starting to turn into fog and Sister Ignacia drew her cloak around her in an effort to stop the chill working its way to her skin.

“I hate this place.”

“Be grateful you don't have to stay here.”

Sister Ignacia shivered as the damp settled on her cloak. They arrived at the junction of Cheapside and Newgate just as the fog started to lift, revealing the silhouette of the dome of St Pauls. They went to cross Aldersgate Street when the shape of a man broke through the gloom. It was Father Henry. As he got closer, the lines across his brow framed a distracted look.

“Father Henry, how go the preparations?”

“Not good. We have a problem.”

Emma was frozen to the spot, her eyes fixed on the monk who was now less than three feet away from her. It was moving slowly towards the archway that framed the steps on which she was now crouching. It wasn't rushing forward but instead was stopping every few steps and sniffing the air. Emma knew it would pick up on any noise so she forced herself not to move.

It closed in on her position, pulling down its hood to reveal a bald and wrinkled head that it tilted left and right. It continued to sniff the air before pausing only to listen out for any noise that may betray Emma.

Emma was forced to hold her breath as it felt its way along the wall until it found the archways edge and
stopped. It hesitantly raised a foot; feeling for the first step and Emma felt her heart start to pound. What was she going to do? Should she race back up the stairs or rush the monk? She now realised that any movement on her part would be picked up straight away so she settled for staying where she was but by now her legs were starting to burn and a furnace was being stoked in her lungs where she was holding in the superheated air.

“DEATH IS JUST THE START! THERE ARE SO MANY LEVELS OF PAIN THAT YOU HAVE YET TO EXPERIENCE.”

The voice started up again as the monk placed its hands on the inner walls. Emma watched as it ran its fingers over the rough brickwork in an attempt to see if anything was there. It placed its left hand on a brick, which crumbled at the monks touch. The monk fell forward just as Emma had found herself crouched almost directly in front of it. She fell back against the steps, letting out the air in her lungs as she hit the stone. It was all she could do not to make a noise but the monk froze as its hands scrabbled for purchase in an effort to stop it heading face first on to the stairs. It succeeded but for Emma that was scant consolation as she ended up face to face with it. The fall now meant that the monk was only inches from Emma's nose. She held her breath as it started sniffing again. Its robes gave off a smell of rotten eggs whilst the sweat that was building up in its forehead started to drop directly onto Emma's face. It was all she could do not to gag as one drop splashed onto her lips.

The monk stopped sniffing and canted its head to one side as it strained to listen for anything untoward. It held its breath and waited to see if anything moved or breathed until, after what seemed like an age, it gave up. Placing its hands on the step below the one that Emma was now
prone on, it picked itself up and slowly headed back in to the hall. When it had disappeared around the corner, Emma placed her hands over her mouth and forced the air from her body. For the next few seconds, the only thing that mattered was breathing.

After she had caught her breath, Emma crept to the archway and looked out. Once again the hall was broken up by stone pillars that disappeared overhead. From here, Emma could see that the walkways she had seen from above threw shadows across the floor which would allow her to move around the outside of the hall and, if she was lucky, make it to the other side unnoticed.

“CAN YOU FEEL IT? CAN YOU FEEL ALL HOPE LEAVING YOU? THERE IS NO HOPE, JUST PAIN!”

The heat hit her again and she felt her eyes start to tear up. There was no one in the hall other than Emma but for the first time, she could hear voices. They came from her feat. She looked down to see a semicircular metal grille; similar to the one she had entered by.

A hand grabbed her ankle and Emma jumped backwards in shock. It was accompanied by a low, indistinct voice. At first she wasn't sure she heard it at all but there it was again and this time, there was no mistaking it.

Emma dropped down to one knee to find herself face to face with a woman not much older than her. For a heart stopping second, she thought she had found Taryn but she soon realised that it was somebody completely different.

“Please, help us.”

The voice was weak and barely audible and had Emma not seen the woman's lips move, she would not have known that she had said anything at all. She looked at her and tried to frame an answer that wasn't as callous as it sounded but no words came to her.

“I'm sorry, I really am, but I'm not here for you.”

The woman's face contorted in desperation as she forced her arm out as far as it could go.

“You're her, aren't you? You're the one that mad old woman's always going on about. The one she says will come for her.”

Emma froze. “What mad old woman?”

“The crazy woman they hang from the central post below the tall mans tower. She always talks about her friend who's coming for her.”

“Where is she now?”

The woman hesitated before answering, “They took her from her cell and placed her on the post.”

“When?”

“I don't know, about three months ago now.”

“What? What do you mean three months?” Emma remembered what Rodolfo had said about the time difference between the twilight plane and this place but she still couldn't get her head around what this woman was saying.

“Maybe it was longer, I don't know. You lose track of time down here.”

As the woman talked Emma noticed that the iron semicircle was repeated time and again along the wall all the way around the hall. Hands and arms poked through the grilles and she shuddered as she realised that she would have to pass them all if she was going to get to the other side.

“Where's the tower?”

“Through this hall and the one beyond.”

Emma ran to some steps and hid in the shadow that they gave off, leaving the woman behind. She ignored the outstretched limbs, hoping that none of them were Taryn's.

The further she got into the hall, the more it seemed to make no sense as steps and walkways led off in abstract directions creating a labyrinthine mess. Emma concentrated
on making it to the other side and not getting seen in the process. She moved from the steps and made a quick dash to an archway that supported a stone bridge running the length of the hall, then to a large wooden post that ran up towards the ceiling. She was near a large arch that led to the next hall by now and she raced to the shadows, which swallowed up the wall on the left hand side.

When she reached the arch, Emma looked through into a room that was as confused and vast as the one she was about to leave. The first thing she saw was a large set of stairs, which ran up to a series of huge archways. On each side of the steps were two stone lions, set in bas-relief, each of which had a leopard's head in its mouth. Emma heard voices and slipped back into the shadows. Two monks walked past the lions and their words carried over to where Emma stood. They were low and rasping and reminded Emma of a record being deliberately played on a slower setting than it should be. She waited for them to pass before looking around again. The floor was empty and she took the chance to enter the new hall. At the base of the steps, the height hit her for the first time. She only came up to the lions shoulder and the steps came up to her knees but she climbed them, having to stop on every second one whilst her lungs recovered. When she finally reached the top she had to duck behind the last step as another three monks walked past but she was in luck, their hoods covered their ears and her movement was hidden from them. She waited for their voices to disappear into the distance before plucking up the courage to see what was beyond. When she looked out over the last step, she was greeted by a large piazza made up of elevated walkways with intricately carved friezes running their entire length, Fluted Corinthian columns ran up to statues which sat just below a ceiling with liquid flames rolling across its
length, giving the hall a deep red flickering tinge which, Emma thought, seemed to fit perfectly with the ridiculous heat in this place.

This was going to be more difficult for Emma. There were fewer places to hide and more people to see her but the ever present voice muffled her movements which was something. Emma scanned the hall in front of her looking for a route to the other side. At first there didn't seem to be anything that would help her but then she saw a monk appear from nowhere on the left hand side of the hall. On closer inspection, she saw a covered walkway running the length of the wall. It was a cloister that, if she could reach it, would allow her to move to the other side of the piazza unseen.

On the other side of the arch was a stairway that dropped down three steps before splitting left and right. Emma's groaned as she realised that there was no way to get safely down the stairs as they were completely exposed to anybody who looked up. She got down on all fours, wincing as the heat from the stone burnt any exposed skin, and slid down to where the steps split. Down here it was safer as a balustrade sat on top of a brick wall and it provided cover all the way down to the bottom. Once she had got to the floor, it was just a matter of reaching the cloister, which was twenty feet away. Emma checked to make sure that there was no one around and ran to the stone canopy where she slipped behind the first supporting column. Looking down the corridor, Emma saw that there were several large wooden doors set in to the wall. It must have been where the monk had come from. She moved to the next column, silently praying that no one entered the cloister.

The voice was in the distance now and Emma was silently grateful for the reprieve as she moved slowly
onwards. She spent the next half hour working her way down to the end of the walkway until finally she found herself within touching distance of the next hall. Three stone arches indicated where the entrance was and Emma made a dash for the nearest one. She got there and found it opened onto a small recess. Looking through to the next hall, she saw that it was smaller than the last two and was dominated by a huge round tower in the centre. A set of stairs coiled round the outside until they opened onto a balcony. As Emma followed the stairs down her heart stopped. At the bottom was a set of rings attached to the wall just like the ones in the previous halls, but unlike those there was only one woman hanging from them.