The Emerald Staff (24 page)

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Authors: Alison Pensy

Tags: #Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: The Emerald Staff
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Faen shook his head again.

“Someone is down here.” She moved her palms
around in the darkness trying to see if anyone was there but all
she highlighted with her blue orbs were the death heads behind the
bars. It was then that she noticed the name inscribed on the stand
of one of them,
Stafford.

Faedra swallowed hard and leaned in for a
closer look.

“What you doin’ down ‘ere, anyways? This
place closed up a while ago. Oh, good Lord, don’t tell me you’re
one of them nut jobs that wants us to scare ‘em half to death all
night?”

Faedra jolted upright and took a step
back.

“Oh, don’t look at us like that, we ain’t
gonna hurt ya.”

There was a soulful groan.

“Oh, cheer up, Stafford. Would it kill yer to
be nice and live a little?”

A more educated voice retaliated. “How can I,
you idiot? I’m dead. Killed way before my prime, I might add.”

“Well if ye hadn’t gone an’ raped and
murdered that young girl you wouldn’t have been executed, now would
ya? So don’t call me the idiot, you grumpy old sod.”

Faedra looked aghast at the death heads that
were having a conversation with each other right in front of her
eyes.

Faen nudged her on the arm, making her jump,
“Can you still hear someone talking?”

“Yes, it’s those guys.” She pointed to the
death heads that were now arguing amongst themselves.

“Unsavory looking characters,” Faen
mused.

“Hey, watch who you’re calling unsavory,
pretty boy.” Stafford grouched.

A wry smile curved Faedra’s lips “He wasn’t
happy about you calling them unsavory,” she told Faen.

The death heads carried on with griping
amongst themselves. Then Faedra had a thought. Maybe they could
help her. They must have been here a while, maybe they saw
something. She cleared her throat in an attempt to get their
attention.

“You’ll have to excuse Stafford, girlie, he’s
a grumpy old buggar at the best of times, but then I guess most
murderers are,” the gruff voice said.

“So which one of these heads are you and why
were you executed?” Faedra asked. She thought that people only got
executed for being a murderer and, therefore, assumed they had all
been murderers at one point.

“Pardon me, where are me manners? Hardyman’s
the name, up here on the top shelf, far right. All I done was a
little bit of fraud, that’s all. Nothing major and they strung me
up for it. Lived in the wrong era that’s what. Wouldn’t get more
than a few years nowadays, I bet.”

Faedra raised her eyebrows, she had to admit
it was slightly surreal having a conversation with a talking wax
head.

“Anyway, little lady, you din’t tell us what
you’re doin’ down here.” Hardyman asked.

“I’m looking for something. It was probably
hidden a long time ago and I guessed this would be the oldest part
of the castle, so I thought the dungeons would be the best place to
start looking.” Faedra explained.

“Ah, now that’s where you’d be wrong. This
part was built a long time after the original part of the castle,
so that pretty tour-guide tells everyone several times a day.
People think this is the oldest part, but it ain’t. Wasn’t built
till the 1200’s see, and only then as a storeroom.” Yet another
voice joined the conversation.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re a bloody
know it all, Thomas?” The voice Faedra recognized as Stafford
grouched again.

“Don’t mind them, luv. What is it that you’re
looking for?” Hardyman asked.

“An egg.” Faedra answered.

“An egg?” a chorus of voices replied.

Faedra sighed. “Yes, an egg. It’s a dragon’s
egg, if you must know.”

“Now I know you’re pulling my leg.” Thomas
said. “Everyone knows dragons don’t exist.

“Really? Well, I’ve just been nose-to-nose
with one and he wants his egg back. I’m the one who has the honor
of finding it so that I can borrow something from him in return.”
Faedra wasn’t quite sure why she was explaining everything to a
bunch of criminals, a bunch of dead criminals, at that.

Silence fell in the dungeon and, after a
moment, Faedra decided to continue.

“Look, apparently this dragon lost the egg in
a bet with a guy called Ralph De Gael. He used to own the castle
about nine hundred years ago, so if you know what part of the
castle is the oldest, it would help me out.”

Silence continued for a moment. Faedra sighed
at the lack of response. “Come on, Faen, it’s obviously not down
here. We’ll have to look elsewhere.”

They turned to leave.

“Hey, hold up, little un’. We was just
thinking.” Hardyman broke the silence followed by some moans of
agreement from the others.

“Molly might know.” Thomas piped up.

“Good idea, Thomas! Molly gets to wander all
over the place; she might be able to help the girl out. Molly! Hey,
Molly, you about?” Hardyman called.

A moment later, a lady’s ghostly white head
poked through the stone wall behind the bars where the death heads
sat.

“What is it, Hardyman? I’m busy,” she
said.

“Busy? Busy doin’ what exactly?” Hardyman
retorted.

“None of your business. Now what do you
want?”

“This young girl is looking for an egg that
old Ralphy hid in his time and we thought you might be able to
help.”

Molly turned to face Faedra and her stern
features softened when she saw her.

“Well, well. She can see us?”

“Seems like it.” Thomas replied.

The rest of Molly’s body floated through the
wall and then through the bars until she was standing before the
wide-eyed Custodian.

“Well, I’d say you are in luck, little lady.
Just so happens that one of Ralph’s kitchen boys lives here, as
well. There’s a good chance he may know something about this here
egg of yours. We’ll have to go up to the keep though, he died long
before the dungeon was built, can’t come down here. Follow me.”

Molly floated off in front of Faedra and
Faen. Faedra turned to the death heads before she walked out the
door. “Thanks.”

A chorus of ‘you’re welcome’ and ‘don’t
mention it,’ rang out as they exited the dungeon.

They followed Molly up one set of stairs
along a corridor and up another set of stairs.

“Do you mind me asking why you’re here?”
Faedra asked as they wandered down the corridor.

“Executed for killing my drunken abusive
husband,” she stated nonchalantly. “Much good it did me, I might as
well have let him finish the job, coz I didn’t get to live much
longer after I’d killed the old sod, anyway. Funny old world,
really.” At that point Faedra thought Molly was speculating more to
herself than talking to Faedra.

They followed her up another set of stairs
where she stopped at a set of heavy wooden double doors.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Molly’s misty apparition disappeared through
the door. A moment later she stuck her head through the wood and
said with a hint of irritability “Are you coming? I haven’t got all
night, you know.”

Faedra gave Faen a look of astonishment, then
realized he couldn’t see Molly.

“She wants us to follow her through the
door,” Faedra explained.

Faen obliged and leaned forward to open the
door for them. They stepped through it into the immense keep of the
castle. Suits of armor were on display and the subtle lighting cast
menacing shadows in their wake. There were medieval weapons of all
descriptions adorning the walls, and various exhibits of how the
castle would have looked when it was originally built. The inner
walls of the keep were made of rougher hewn blocks of stone, unlike
the newly renovated outer wall. This is what Faedra imagined a
medieval castle should look like. A wooden balcony jutted out about
half way up the wall and stretched all around the inner wall,
allowing visitors to wander round and look through the tiny slits
for windows. They moved a few paces further into the room, and with
every footfall were greeted with a groaning creak from the wooden
floorboards below them.

Faedra’s attention was brought back to the
here and now when she heard Molly calling out.

“Oswulf, Oswulf, you about, lad? Show
yourself. You got visitors.” Molly said in a calm soothing
manner.

A moment passed and no one appeared.

“Lad’s a bit shy,” Molly explained before
trying again. “Come on lad, they aren’t here to hurt you. Young
girl needs a bit of help, is all.”

Oswulf appeared behind Molly and cautiously
leaned to the side to look Faedra and Faen up and down with
scrutiny.

“Oswulf, come on, lad, I told you they won’t
hurt you.” Molly cooed again.

Faedra caught Molly’s attention. “What is it,
luv?”

“He’s behind you,” Faedra whispered not
wanting to scare off the nervous looking boy.

Molly turned around with cautious steps,
obviously not wanting to startle the boy, either. “There you are,
m’boy.”

“You called, M’lady Molly?” Oswulf
whispered.

“Oswulf, this young lady wants to ask you a
question about the time when you lived here.”

Faedra noticed Oswulf swallowed hard before
he took a step toward them. Molly moved to one side out of his way.
The young kitchen boy was dressed in ragged, worn clothing. It
looked like nothing more than sack-cloth adorned his body. His skin
was dirty from his face down to his bare grimy feet and Faedra
wondered if he had ever seen a bath.

“Yes, M’lady,” Oswulf addressed Faedra.

Faedra smiled in an attempt to calm his
nerves. “Oswulf,” she spoke softly, “I am looking for something
that was given to your master, Ralph De Gael. It was an egg, a
dragon’s egg to be precise, so it would be about this big.” She
gestured with her hands the approximate size of the egg. “Did you
ever see it?”

Oswulf shook his head “No, M’lady.”

Faedra’s shoulders slumped. She looked around
the mammoth keep of the castle and wondered how she would ever find
it, or where to even begin looking. A moment of silence enveloped
them as Faedra’s desperation grew.

“But I do remember his Lordship acting very
strange one night,” Oswulf said.

“Really, what did he do?”

“Well, it was one winter’s eve. I remember
that because I was glad to get the spit-turning duty that night. It
was about the only way I could keep warm in the winter. It was late
at night, probably early morning, as I could hear everyone snoring
around the castle. I noticed that it was odd because his Lordship
came in and ignored the guards that were sleeping on duty. Usually
if that happened he’d have hauled them up and given them a whippin’
but he crept past them as if not wanting to wake them up. Now that
I think about it, he was carrying something under his arm.

He didn’t pay me any heed, mind you. The only
time he did that was if I fell asleep at my post, then he’d tan my
hide. I watched him cross over to the well then he threw his leg
over the side and shimmied down the bucket rope. I could hardly
believe my own eyes. Only the lowest kitchen boys go down the well
to sort out any problems. I was so surprised that I left my station
to peek over the side of the well to make sure he was all
right.”

“What did you see?” Faedra interrupted.

“Nothing,” Oswulf replied.

“Nothing?”

“It was too dark, I couldn’t see anything,
but I did hear a scraping sound like stone on stone. I didn’t wait
to see the master come back up. I went back to my station and
continued turning the spit. He would’ve been angry to see me away
from my post and, the last thing a lowly kitchen boy like myself
wants to do, is anger his Lordship. A few minutes later, he comes
back up and he doesn’t have anything under his arm anymore.

Not long after that, the castle was besieged
and his Lordship went to get help, leaving M’lady to defend the
castle. Now she may be the most courageous woman I’ve ever seen but
defending a castle against an army is not woman’s work. She was
able to make an agreement with the enemy, though, and they let us
go.”

“If they let you go, why are you still here?”
Faedra asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Not long after we left, we went through a
village that had the pox. I got it and that was the end of me. Then
I turned up back here, never have figured out why.”

Oswulf led Faedra and Faen over to the well.
They all looked down and could see the tube of stone disappear into
the belly of the earth. Faedra groaned. The opening to the well was
at floor level and had long been covered over and sealed off by a
strong metal grid that allowed people to stand over it and look
down, if they dared. It was also popular to drop money through the
grates and make a wish. Right now, Faedra doubted her wish would
come true as she could see no way of getting down there.

“Faen, I don’t think my energy is strong
enough to blow up this grate, and even if I could, it would
probably make so much noise the security guard would be here in a
flash.”

“What do ye want to be blowing it up for?
There’s a gate downstairs,” Molly chimed in.

Faedra’s eyes lit up “There is?”

“Well, how else do ye think they’re going to
get the money out? Those steps over in that corner take you
downstairs. You can get in the well that way.”

Faedra took off running to the corner of the
keep, Faen followed. She took the worn stone steps two at a time
and jumped the final ones, hitting the hard stone floor with a
thud. It looked like a basement down there. There were ruins of the
original stone pillars that would have once held up the castle,
more exhibits, and a metal grill with a gate making up half of the
well wall. She ran up to it and gave the gate a tug and almost
screamed with exasperation. It was locked with a heavy-duty
padlock. She took the padlock in her hands and rattled is against
the bar.

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