‘Quiet, woman,’ said Arise, walking down the stairs towards me. I stood as tall as I could. I would rather die, I thought, than flinch from this crooked man. He came near, smelling much of drink, and I comforted myself by thinking he was not as tall as I remembered. ‘What have you come for?’ he asked.
‘The same thing you seek,’ I replied.
‘And what might that be?’ he said mockingly.
‘Fairy silver,’ I replied.
‘Do not listen to her,’ said Maud. ‘She is the Devil, trying to trick us.’
‘No I am not,’ I said, and I said it clear. I said it for Hester, for Joan and for Danes. I said it for my father and I said it for me, Coriander.
‘It is you who have been listening to the Devil’s words. It is you who have murdered and deceived in the name of your own greed.’
Arise laughed, a hollow unpleasant laugh, and lifted his hand.
I stood firm. I said, ‘You are the only devil here.’
At that moment the pile of furniture gave a lurch and fell crashing to the floor. The river door swung open. Arise’s hand dropped to his side and he took several steps back towards the stairs and held on to the banister. For out of the muddle of tables and chairs came the snout of a monstrous large alligator. I stayed where I was as Maud rushed to Arise and clung to him, begging him to do something.
He brought his hand of wrath hard down on her. Still she would not let go.
‘Save me!’ she screamed, but the hand of salvation still held tight to the lantern that swung back and forth, light and dark across their terrified faces.
I looked at them both standing there and felt such loathing. I knew that I had nothing to fear from the alligator. He came into the hall and stopped by my side as if he had been looking for me.
‘Go on then,’ shouted Arise. ‘Kill her, kill her like you did Tarbett Purman.’
The alligator slowly turned his head towards me. I knew what he was thinking and I nodded. The beast moved with great speed towards the stairs.
Maud pushed Arise down in her haste to get past him and safely out of reach on the first landing.
‘No!’ shouted Arise. ‘The girl!’ He pointed a long-nailed finger in my direction. The alligator advanced towards him. I followed.
The alligator took hold of his ankle.
Arise let out a terrifying scream and tried hard to pull his leg away. ‘Come here and help me!’ he shouted up the stairs.
The alligator let go. Arise’s stockings were soaked with blood. He hobbled up the stairs and, pushing past Maud, made for my father’s old bedchamber, where he fumbled desperately for his ring of keys. Maud lurched after him, but Arise closed the door in her face and locked it.
‘Let me in!’ shouted Maud, banging her fists on the door.
‘No, woman,’ said Arise. ‘I care not what happens to you.’
Maud turned to me and whimpered, ‘Rosmore will be here any moment and that will be the end of both of you.’
The alligator slithered towards her. Maud stood frozen on the landing.
It only took one knock from the alligator’s scaly claws for the door to give way. The bedchamber was empty save for the lantern. Arise had climbed up on to the windowsill, his hand of wrath out before him, the hand of salvation holding on to the window latch.
‘Stay away from me, you fairy child. Stay away!’
‘What is my name?’ I said.
‘Ann,’ he said.
The alligator opened his jaw. His teeth glimmered in the moonlight, sharp as knives.
‘What is my name?’ I said again.
‘Coriander,’ screamed Arise, letting the ring of keys fall to the floor. He pushed back hard against the fretted glass that cracked under his weight. With a splintering sound the window gave way and the preacher fell into the river below.
I ran to the window and looked down. There was nothing to see in the dark river water. I hoped with all my heart that that was the last of the preacher.
I picked up the lantern and the keys, following the alligator back down the stairs towards the study. I unlocked the door. The room was completely bare like the bedchamber above it.
The alligator stood in front of the ebony cabinet and once more opened his enormous jaws. I looked at those sharp teeth, that creamy mouth, and I remembered well the time when I had put my hand inside to get the key to open the cabinet so that I could wear a pair of silver shoes.
I knew what I had to do. I knelt down and as the lantern light flickered then waned, I felt the sharp wind of the raven’s wings as it flew into the room, followed by Rosmore. I stood up. The alligator shut his mouth tight.
‘Well, Coriander, we meet again.’ She was dressed in a long dusty cloak that looked as if it was made of spiders’ webs. Her face was cruel and sharp. Cronus landed on her outstretched arm.
‘Well, my beauty, what have we here?’
‘A princess, no less,’ the raven answered.
‘Who does this princess resemble?’ she asked.
‘Why,’ said the raven, ‘Princess Eleanor, your stepdaughter.’
‘Oh clever bird,’ she whispered. ‘And tell me, what thought I of Princess Eleanor?’
‘That she disobeyed you to run away with a mere human.’
‘Ah,’ she said, ‘it saddens me to remember it. But now the wrong she did can be put right through the daughter. Come, girl, give me what is mine.’
While she was speaking, half to the raven, half to me, I had been watching a figure behind her. Like some giant rat emerging from the door that led to the river came the wet and watery figure of Arise, his green glasses gone, his pale eyes the colour of fish scales.
The raven let out a loud squawk as Rosmore spun round. Arise fell to his knees as green light flashed from her hands.
‘You failed to keep your promise,’ said Rosmore. ‘Avarice and greed overcame you.’
‘I was not to know that being in the chest would not kill her.’
‘You fool!’ she laughed. ‘You displeased me at your peril. You thought that you were clever enough to outwit a Fairy Queen. I warned you not to meddle in things you did not understand.’
Another flash of green light snaked across towards him, lifting him off his feet to spin round and round in the air, river water dripping from his black shiny coat.
Maud tried to slip away and creep up the stairs to the attic. Seeing her Rosmore laughed again.
‘No, please,’ whimpered Maud, ‘not me.’
It was then that the alligator opened his mouth to smile. I knelt down and quickly pulled through his teeth the silver gossamer of my mother’s shadow.
‘Good girl,’ said Rosmore, seeing what I held in my hands.
‘Let him down,’ pleaded Maud, coming closer to Rosmore and pulling at her spidery cloak. ‘We do not deserve this. Let him down and we will both be gone.’
‘Quiet,’ commanded Rosmore. ‘I am not to be played with. I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me.’
‘All I wish is that you do not break his bones,’ said Maud again.
‘Another wish! Oh, what a pleasure! Have I not told you to be careful what you wish for?’ Rosmore laughed again. ‘It might just happen. You want the crooked man’s bones unbroken? You may have them.’
‘No,’ shouted Arise. ‘She does not wish it.’
Green light danced from Rosmore’s hand, looping and coiling, up to where Arise hung suspended. His hands grabbed the rope of light and then he fell as if he were in the hangman’s noose at Tyburn, his body twitching and twisting in space. At last he was still.
I knew that Arise Fell was truly dead.
Maud screamed and screamed.
‘Silence, you babbling jade,’ shouted Rosmore, ‘silence, unless you want to join him.’
Maud stood looking at the pile of bones on the floor and stuffed her chubby hands in her mouth.
Rosmore turned to me and whispered to Cronus, ‘Tell her, my beauty, tell her to give it to me. Tell her.’
&n
bsp; I looked at the shadow in my hands and watched as the silver sank into my skin and disappeared. I saw the raven slowly flap his broad wings and I saw a tiny stuffed alligator sitting on the floor.
I said, though my voice seemed to come from far away, ‘This is my mother’s shadow. It belongs to me.’
The room began to fade, Rosmore becoming a thin veil. Her voice was all I could hear. She hissed, ‘I will kill you. There will be no escaping.’
Her words trailed away and then she was gone. I felt as a bird in flight must do when looking at a city from a great height, as first the house on Thames Street and then London itself disappeared and I knew where I was.
And so the fifth part of my tale is told, and with it another candle goes out.
PART SIX
28
The Night of the Fox
I found myself alone in a forest, snow falling, the light shining an eerie blue through the darkening trees. This place I knew all too well. I had dreamt of it often since I had been back on Bridge Street. This was where they killed the fox.
I heard a huntsman’s horn ring out and I started to run. I was in my nightmare but this time I knew there was to be no waking.
Oh, how I ran. I slipped, I stumbled, I fell, got up again and carried on until, exhausted, I could go no further. My breath rose like steam from a cooking pot. I stood frozen with fear, my eyes shut, hoping that I was only a blue light, knowing in my heart that I was not.
I shuddered with fright as I felt a horse’s hot breath on my neck. Terrified, I opened my eyes to see Tycho’s white stallion standing behind me. The sense of relief was overwhelming but short-lived.
The cries of the huntsmen rang out again, the noise darting from tree to tree, echoing through the frozen forest. Were they behind me or in front of me? Without another thought I grasped the horse’s silvery mane and with much difficulty pulled myself up on to his back. In truth, I had never been on a horse before and I felt certain that I would fall. As if sensing my anxiety, he slowed down until I had the rhythm of him and only then did he set off at an almighty gallop. I held on for all I was worth.
We galloped out of the forest and over fields bordered with hedges of holly and looking like pieces of Danes’s needlework. My cap came off my head and my hair blew out in the wind. I allowed myself to glance back once to see in the distance the misty outline of the huntsmen.
We rode on without stopping until at last the white horse came to rest at the top of a hill. From here I could view the valley below. Silhouetted above the snow-filled trees stood a tower. Nearby I could see several small hamlets, hugging the dips in the landscape. Smoke curled up from their chimneys. What would I not give now to be sitting by a fire somewhere safe and warm?
Night was beginning to draw in, the moon a watery tear in the sky. The cold had crept into my bones. Snowflakes whirled into my face, and my fingers were numb. I started as I saw a black carriage driven by four black horses, a slash across the white winter landscape, make its way towards the tower. The sight made me feel sick. Rosmore was near. The white horse, as if sensing my terror, moved swiftly into the cover of the silvery trees that gave way to a wild tangled wood. I could hear the howl of wolves and the hoot of an owl and I buried my head in the horse’s soft mane, comforting myself with his warmth, his smell.
The horse stopped at a tumbledown hut. He pawed urgently at the ground. I slithered down and stood staring at the unwelcoming place. Seeing my hesitation, the horse nuzzled me forward as an icy wind whipped up a flurry of snow. The cold was now so intense that my teeth began to chatter. I was shivering so much that I could not feel my hands as I opened the latch. I stood in the doorway, unable to see anything.
‘Is anyone there?’ I called to the darkness, and nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a low moan in reply.
‘Who is it?’ I whispered.
The moon shone in, as if curious to know the answer, and by her watery light I could see the wounded fox, an arrow in his side, blood seeping on to the wooden floor.
‘No!’ I cried. ‘Please no! Let it not be so.’
I knelt down beside the fox and held his paw. I had come too late. The fox was dying, his dark eyes cloudy. I stroked his fur, tears rolling down my face, and felt as if I was drowning in sorrow. I knew that, like Tycho, I too would be hunted and killed by Rosmore.
For what? A shadow whose power I did not understand. Should I lie down like a lamb and die with the fox? I felt close to despair. What was the point in going on? I sobbed, silvery tears rolling down my cheeks on to his bloodsoaked fur. I was overcome with grief for all that I had lost, all that should have been.
I woke with a start, unsure of what had happened. I was lying curled up on the floor, a fur pulled over me. A wintry morning light shone through the broken shutters and snow was blowing into the empty hut. I could not see the body of the fox anywhere, only a scattering of tiny animal bones. If he had died in the night surely he would be here? Yet there was nothing.
Had it all been a dream? What could have happened? Where was the fox? Where was the white horse? I felt very frightened and very alone.
Stiff with cold, I got up so suddenly that the little hut began to spin. I put out a hand to steady myself on a wooden shelf. Down in the grate a feeble fire was stuttering to life. Who had lit it? The arrow that last night I was sure had been in the fox’s side was leaning against a pile of firewood.
I was pulled up short when I stared at the dusty shelf. I wondered if my eyes played tricks with me, for there lay the most wondrous and delicate gold locket, embroidered with diamonds. What such riches were doing here abandoned I had no idea. Who could have left such a locket?
‘I knew you would come,’ I heard a voice behind me say softly. ‘I knew that one day I would see you, that you would come back and save me.’
I spun round and there, standing in the doorway, was a young man who looked as wild as any animal, his hair long and with a beard that covered nearly all his face. His clothes hung from his thin bony body as if they belonged to someone else.
‘Coriander, your disguise does not fool me. Do you not know me?’ he said.
I looked at him. That voice I recognised, those brown eyes I knew. ‘Tycho?’ I said, though I had no faith in my words.
‘Yes,’ he said, coming into the room. He moved as if his body was a stranger to him.
‘I do not understand,’ I said. ‘Last night you were a wounded fox, an arrow in your side.’
‘Coriander, I have been a fox since I refused to marry Unwin. It was Rosmore’s curse. I took refuge here in Medlar’s hut.’
‘Medlar?’ I said. ‘So you know him well?’
‘Very well,’ said Tycho. ‘Medlar gave me hope, for he was certain that you would come back with the shadow. Every day with this hope in my heart I fought to stay alive, wondering and waiting.’
‘I wish I could have got here sooner, but it was not to be,’ I said.
‘I watched you sleep, and wondered how your silvery tears had made me well. I can only think that you have brought the shadow back. Am I right?’
I nodded.
‘I thank you,’ said Tycho, and he moved forward to touch me. I backed away. ‘Forgive me,’ he said, hanging his head. ‘I disgust you like this.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘No, but I am shocked to see you so. I thought that if I were to bring back the shadow, all would be well.’
‘Only when Rosmore is gone will the spell be truly broken.’
I felt ashamed of my reaction. It was true he did not look the same, but he was still the person I remembered, and I thought of all he had been through and how abandoned and alone he must have felt out here, with only the white horse for company.
He went over to the shelf and tentatively picked up the gold locket and opened it. Sweet music filled the hut, gentle as a lullaby. It sounded strange in this cold and lonely place, and I was reminded of my mother and of our home in Thames Street before my world was shattered.
‘Here,’ said Ty
cho, showing me a tiny painting that lay like a thumbprint in the gold locket. ‘This is a portrait of you. It does not do you justice. You are far more beautiful. Your eyes are river-green.’
‘But where did you get it? How did anyone know what I looked like?’
‘Medlar followed you back. He has his ways.’
I went over to him and took both his hands. ‘With all my heart I am pleased to see you,’ I said.
He turned and looked at me. ‘I have thought of you every day since we last met.’
‘So have I, and I have often wished that I might see you again,’ I said, blushing.
‘Though not like this,’ he added with a laugh.
‘Rosmore is back,’ I said. ‘Last night I saw her carriage.’
‘Then we must be gone from here,’ he said.
He went towards the door of the hut and sent out a long, low whistle.
Nothing happened. No white horse appeared. He called again. Across the snowy fields all was deadly still. Even the wind seemed frozen in its tracks. Something was wrong.
‘Coriander!’ shouted Tycho. He slammed the door and rushed back towards me, pulling me to the floor. As he did so, the raven flew in at the shuttered window, splintering it to pieces, and swooped down on us, his claws outstretched. Tycho rolled over on top of me as Cronus came at us again, claws tearing at Tycho’s doublet. Tycho hit out at the bird with his bare hands. Then, with a sweep of wings, the raven was gone.
‘You are hurt,’ I said, and I touched his arm. A silvery gossamer light came from my fingers and the wound was gone. I could feel my heart beating. I was scared. I was truly scared.
‘What is happening?’ I asked.
‘You must not be afraid, Coriander,’ said Tycho. ‘The shadow is yours to keep. It is within you and cannot be taken from you unless you let it.’
He picked up a stick and opened the door a crack.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘We will make a run for it.’
‘No,’ I said, pulling him back. ‘Look!’
I stared at the fire and saw the flames stand upright in the grate like a painted picture. I remembered seeing that once before, when I first met Rosmore on London Bridge. I was sure that she was nearby.