The Flame in the Mist (45 page)

“Whoa, Jem!” Digby said. “I thought—”

“I know you did, Dig.” Jemma glanced at Nocturna and Shade, who looked deflated again, then turned to Nox. “Forgive you?” she said. “I don’t even know how to make sense of that idea, after all you’ve done. But revenge would only keep the evil going, and then all of this would have been for nothing.” She knelt and stroked Drudge’s silky hair. “And you didn’t wait here three hundred years for that, did you?”

Noodle and Pie licked her hand, then burrowed into the hollow of Drudge’s neck.

Digby knelt beside her. “What is it he wanted you to say?” he asked. “Don’t forget. You promised.”

“Yes, I did.” Jemma sat back on her heels and took a deep breath, knowing that despite the horror and sorrow of all that had happened, she must mean the words with all her heart. She thought of her parents and Marsh, of Drudge’s sacrifice and centuries of waiting, of Majem, the Prophecy, and Jamem, of all the help that had brought her to this point, and of those with her now: Digby, Noodle, and Pie. Even the triplets, with all the terrors they had suffered, had contributed to this moment. Every one of them had played a part. And so too, she realized, had her years at Agromond Castle, and her escape from it. If she hadn’t been abducted, she would never have known Drudge, would never have learned to
Trussst
, never have become as determined as she needed to be to fulfill Gudred’s Prophecy. It was all meant to be. All of it.

Thank you
, she muttered under her breath, rising to her feet.
Thank you
. And all at once the longing she’d harbored since the first stories Marsh had told her all those years ago seemed to well up from the ground, rushing through her and pouring out on the tide of her voice.

“It is done, it is done!” she shouted.

“Now, Myst, be gone,

Let there be Sunne!”

“What’s happening?” Tiny squealed, his eyes like saucers. “The light!”

Through every crack in the outside walls, dawn was finding its way in, seeking out the musty corners of the Ceremony Chamber and illuminating places that had only ever seen darkness. Gray granite paled, gargoyles’ faces grimaced, and spiders ran for cover, leaving their prey quivering on sparkling webs.

“Look!” Flora pointed to where Shade and Nocturna were backed against the fireplace, the altar cloth pulled around them like a shroud. “They’re scared!”

“Well, I’ll be, so they are!” said Digby. “Afraid of daylight. Imagine that.”

Just then there was banging on the door behind them, and yelling.

“Digby, Jemma—let me in!”

“It’s Pa!” Simon, Tiny, and Flora hurtled toward the door. It creaked and strained, then splintered off its hinges as Gordo burst into the room.

“Oh, my little ’uns, my little ’uns—Digby—all of yer—”

“Pa, Pa! You should’ve seen—it was all dark—everythin’ shakin’—”

“I know, I know.” Gordo knelt and scooped them into his
arms. “Me n’ Pepper, we couldn’t get near, with stones crashin’ down everywhere. Then a big light went up.…” He looked at Jemma and Digby. “Soon as I saw it, don’t ask me how, I knew you was all safe— Oh, my! Mr. Drudge … Poor ol’ fellow.” He let out a long whistle.

“He’s at peace,” said Jemma, knowing as she spoke that the words came from Drudge. “He says … it was a strain for him to be alive, after so long.” Her heart lifted. “He’s meeting his loved ones.”

“Who’da thought he was so … so special, eh?” Gordo said, shaking his head. “Las’ night, y’know, when him an’ me was hidin’, I was beside myself about the five of you. But he jus’ laid a hand on me, an’ the way it calmed me, an’ kep’ me strong … like magic, it was.” He stood, then winced, his hand going to the Dromfell wound on his calf.

“Oh, Gordo,” said Jemma, going over to him. “Let’s see what I can do about that.” She squatted down and placed her hand on the wound.

“I’m fine, lass. It’ll wait.” Gordo held the triplets close. “You don’t need to bother with— Why, young Jemma! How’re you doin’ that?” The gash on his leg scabbed over, then vanished.

“I had the best teachers.” Jemma stood again, and smiled. “Besides, it’s not me who heals you,” she added, remembering Bryn’s words. “I just help.”

“Oh. Right.” Gordo scratched his head. “But ’ow are
you
, lass? I mean, Mr. Drudge, an’ everythin’ you been through …”

“I’m all right, thanks.” Jemma looked across at Drudge’s frail form. It seemed to have shrunk, the face strangely empty without his spirit to animate the beaked nose and cracked lips. But his love and dedication, and all she knew of him,
lived inside her now. Little more than five weeks ago she would never have thought it possible, but almost everything she had believed about her life had been turned on its head since then, and everything she’d hated or feared no longer had power over her. Nocturna and Shade seemed little more than terrified wraiths. Even her anger toward Nox was rapidly dissipating; all she saw was a broken man. The worst thing was how shaken the triplets still looked, though Gordo’s arrival had cheered them up.
And you too can help to clear those horrors from their eyes
, said a new voice in her head—a voice that was clear and ageless, no longer cracked and worn,
and I, and all of us who are part of you, will help as well
.

Jemma smiled at Gordo. “Yes,” she said. “I’m all right. I really am.”

“Well then,” said Digby, pointing at Nox. “Let’s get this beam off him. Noodle, Pie, mind yourselves.”

The rats hopped off Drudge’s body and scuttled up onto Jemma’s shoulders while she, Gordo, and Digby hoisted the beam to one side. Nox groaned, coming to, his face a picture of agony.

“Thank you,” he said, then passed out again.

“Don’t mention it,” Digby said, gritting his teeth. “Come on, Jem, let’s go and deal with them other two, make sure they don’t escape. Flora, Tiny, Simon, stand back, just in case.”

Noodle’s and Pie’s tails lashed across Jemma’s neck as she, Digby, and Gordo approached Nocturna and Shade. The two stood in statuesque silence, apparently oblivious to Nox and to Feo’s blood-soaked body lying in front of them. But the fire had gone from their eyes, leaving only four hollow, burned-out coals. Digby and Gordo knotted together the ropes with
which Flora and the boys had been tied, and wound it tightly around their prisoners. Bound from shoulder to thigh, Nocturna and Shade looked like two giant grubs. Digby secured the ends of the rope around one of the remaining pillars, making sure that they were directly in a beam of light just for good measure.

“There,” he said, grinning. “Fear has its uses, eh, Jem? Should keep ’em nice an’ meek for a while. Now, let’s get out of here!”

“Yes,” she said. “Let’s go.”

“Us too!” Flora, Simon, and Tiny skittered up to them.

“Aye.” Gordo picked Tiny up. “We’ll all go.”

Jemma felt a tug at her sleeve. Flora was beaming up at her.

“Thank you for savin’ us, Jemma,” she said.

“You’re welcome.” Jemma smoothed down Flora’s matted hair. “I’m sorry I had to be so nasty yesterday.”

“That’s all right,” Flora said. Jemma could see the shadow of Nocturna’s sword scudding across Flora’s eyes, and shuddered. Then Noodle and Pie hopped onto Flora’s shoulders. Her face lit up, and she turned and skipped after Gordo, Simon, and Tiny. Jemma and Digby walked slowly behind.

“Just a minute, Dig.” Jemma stopped by Drudge’s body and knelt down, laying her hand gently on his chest. With a slight crackle, what was left of him collapsed into a golden puff of dust, his clothes deflating onto the flagstones. One lapel of his jacket wafted back, revealing an inside pocket from which a corner of parchment was showing. Jemma pulled it out and unfolded it. Its edges were tattered, and it was worn along the folds, barely holding together. Most of
the scrolled handwriting was obliterated by holes and dried rivulets where the ink had run, but she instantly recognized whose it was.

“My dearest G,”
she read, whispering,
“with heavy heart … your leaving. Should I depart this life before thee … shall ever watch over … I remain, your M.”

Jemma folded the note as carefully as she could and replaced it. “Ever watch over,” she repeated, in awe at the endurance of such love. “But you’re reunited now.” She stood, and with a last sideways glance at the still-unconscious Nox, walked with Digby out of the Ceremony Chamber and into the hallway.

Gordo and the triplets were standing in the middle of the hall, open-mouthed. The stairway’s curved balustrade lay in pieces on the floor, daylight slicing in through the ripped ceiling. The huge oak front door hung off its hinges as if begging for mercy from the chaos outside.

“Blimey!” said Digby, taking Jemma’s hand as they picked their way across the dust and rubble. “What a mess!”

“Look—the Mist!” said Simon. “It’s going away!”

They all stopped by the entrance and watched the whiteness folding back, revealing granite blocks and broken gargoyles everywhere. To the left, toward the sheer edge of Mordwin’s Crag, the grass was covered with shards of glass from the Repast Room window. Straight ahead, fragments of battlements were embedded in the earth. To the right, hewn boulders littered the ground up to where Pepper stood waiting with the cart. Beyond, the forest looked as though it were waking from a long sleep, the pines’ dark arms stretching outward. Above their gently swaying tops, a golden disc hovered
low in the sky, shining through the merest veil of gray, which was decreasing every moment.

“The sun,” whispered Jemma. “Flora, Tiny, Simon, look—that’s the sun!”

The triplets, Digby, and Gordo were already squinting at it, shading their eyes from the unaccustomed brightness.

“Go on, Jem,” said Digby, nudging her. “You first.”

Jemma let go of his hand and stepped outside.

The air was balmy, the scent of firs and pines strong in the clearing air. She breathed it in, then turned and looked up at the hulking shell of the Ceremony Chamber, the spiky ruins behind it where the Bell Tower used to be, and the white sky above. Even what remained of the castle looked less heavy, glints of crystal blinking off it in the dawn light.

“It’s glorious!” she said. “Come on out, all of you!”

Noodle and Pie sprang from Flora’s shoulders and streaked toward Jemma like two golden arrows. Digby followed, grinning from ear to ear. Gordo and the triplets stepped onto the grass, then started laughing as they experienced the soft glow of sunlight for the first time. Flora and the boys scampered to and fro, the terrors of the last few days seeming to ebb from them as they rolled onto the ground, pulling Gordo with them.

“Ooh, me back. Ouch!” Gordo said, laughing. “Careful, now. Your pa’s gettin’ a bit cronky.”

“Shush everyone!” Jemma said. “What’s that?”

They stopped and listened. Voices, hundreds of them, were rising up from the forest, getting louder by the second.

“Sounds like an army,” said Digby, “coming up the road.”

They waited, ears alert. A bead of sweat dribbled down
Jemma’s forehead, and she realized how warm she was. Apparently, they were all feeling it. Gordo mopped his brow. He and Digby removed their jackets, Simon and Tiny pulled off their jerkins, and Flora rolled up her sleeves. Noodle and Pie, perched on a boulder, were licking their fur. The golden disc of sun was now higher above the treetops, brighter, more defined. All around, the sky was changing, turning blue. It seemed to go on forever.

The last wisp of Mist melted, and the mass of approaching voices erupted into a cheer.

“It’s over!” One voice soared above the rest. “Praise be! It’s over!”

Jemma touched the Stone around her neck and smiled.

“It’s over—down with the Agromonds!”

“Down with the Agromonds!” the chant began. “Down with the Agromonds!”

A phalanx of people rounded the corner from behind the trees, headed by Berola.

“Ma, Ma!” Flora, Tiny, and Simon ran toward her.

“My babies!” she cried, breaking away from the crowd and rushing forward. “My babies! I been so worried—” The triplets flew into her open arms.

Behind Berola, the crowd was gathering: men, women, children, even pony traps carrying elderly folk and infants. There were far more than the population of Hazebury could possibly be; everyone from the surrounding villages, it seemed, had come along. They gathered around Jemma in a large crescent, jostling and chattering. Noodle and Pie clambered onto her shoulders, and she couldn’t help smiling, thinking what an odd group they must appear to be.

Voices petered out as stunned faces took in the ruins around them. Then one voice shouted, “She done it—the Fire One!”

Jemma recognized the man from the group she and Digby had seen after leaving the storehouse, weeks ago. A cheer rose, and she noticed several other people who had been on
the path that morning: Mrs. Scragg, Mrs. Jenkin, and the boy Ned. All trace of grayness had vanished from them, and their faces were animated as they joined in the general chatter.

“Heard this commotion … looked up … castle, starting to crumble … Berola says, It’s the Prophecy come to pass … Mist thinning … sky, getting brighter … word got about fast … folks from everywhere: Dingleborough, Oxton—”

“Jemma, lass!” Berola elbowed her way to the front with the triplets and threw her arms around Jemma, almost dislodging Noodle and Pie from her shoulders. “Thank you, thank you!”

“Ouff!” Jemma gasped, winded by Berola’s hug. The rats scuttled into the safety of her pockets. “You’re welcome.… I couldn’t have done it without Digby, though.”

“So where’s them Agromonds?” a woman yelled. “The monsters!”

Jemma pointed to the ruins. “In there. Three of them are alive. The fourth, their son, is dead.” She felt a pang of sadness, especially thinking about how Feo must have felt when he saw his mother about to slaughter him.

“Then let’s get ’em!” the man yelled. “Death to the Agromonds!”

“Aye!” said another, red-faced. “They took my wee twins, just weeks ago. Death to ’em!”

“An’ so say I!” A young woman was clinging to his arm, her face puckered with grief. Jemma thought of the two small bodies under Shade’s bed: this must be their parents. Their anguish tore through her.