Alchemy, Book Two of the Mercian Trilogy (20 page)

The one who spoke was standing near the entrance to the billiard room, but though the witches were all visible now, Will could still see through her to the table beyond.

Her voice was urgent, almost panicked, as she said, “Go! Get out of this house. Get out of this house now!”

The air crackled around them, and as if in fear themselves, the spirits appeared to catapult away, disappearing through the walls. A door slammed somewhere nearby. More noises sounded, of things moving throughout the house.

Will turned to Eloise, about to tell her to run, when he noticed her breath rising as mist in the cold. A sliding noise sounded all around them and every picture in the room crashed to the floor. The doors to the dining room slammed shut.

“Will?”

He reached out and took her hand, then heard an ominous clattering noise from the billiard room. He saw, almost too late, one of the sabres spinning through the air towards them, towards Eloise. He leapt forward and caught it by the blade in his right hand, immediately taking hold of the hilt with his left, ready to use it, for all a sabre might do against such forces.

The house was clattering with noise and disturbance. The tables and chairs around them were rattling on the floor. And then there was that human scent, growing stronger now, getting closer.

“Someone’s coming,” said Will, looking to the billiard room.

And then he was there, standing in the open doorway between the two rooms, looking amazed, but as disturbingly calm as ever. Marcus Jenkins.

He laughed and said, “What’s going on?”

Eloise pointed and said, “What are you doing here?”

Marcus was still smiling, still apparently unconcerned as he started walking towards them and said, “Duh? Following you.”

He heard a noise behind him and his eyes betrayed a hundred calculations taking place at once: the sound he’d heard, the sabre in Will’s hand, his position between the two of them and the billiard room.

He moved incredibly quickly, grabbing a chair,
spinning round as he held it up to intercept the other sabre, which embedded itself in the chair back. He grabbed the hilt of the sword and pulled it free, throwing the chair to the floor and standing ready.

Will doubted Marcus had ever handled a sword before and yet he stood with the poise of someone who’d seen combat many times. He still wasn’t quick enough to spot one of the billiard balls as it shot past him, and turned only as it flew towards Eloise’s head.

Will was quicker, responding instinctively and slicing the ball in half with an explosive crack.

For the first time, Marcus appeared shocked as he looked at Eloise and shouted over the increasing noise, “That was aiming for your head.”

“Now you believe me,” said Will. “This is Wyndham’s work – he can’t kill me so he’s trying to kill Eloise. We have to get out of here.”

There was more noise from the billiard room and Marcus turned and fought to pull the doors shut, shouting, “Go! I’ll hold the doors till you’re out.”

Will moved towards the dining room doors, but immediately both those doors and the others being held by Marcus started to be bombarded with objects that thundered against the wood and fell to the floor. Once more, the objects in the room about them started to move too. A picture suddenly flew from the floor across
the room, Will knocking it down before it reached Eloise.

He picked up the chair Marcus had used and threw it hard at the window with such force that the glass and the entire frame shattered and exploded outwards on to the snow-covered gardens. Eloise didn’t need to be told what to do – she ran and jumped over the low sill and kept running until she was far enough to turn and look back.

Will looked at Marcus and said, “Come on.”

“You first!”

Will jumped out through the window and a few moments later, Marcus followed with the sound of the billiard room doors bursting open behind him and slamming against the walls. He reached Will and Eloise and immediately turned and held the sabre out in front of him, preparing to defend against whatever attack might follow them.

Nothing else left the house though. As the three of them stood there in the falling snow, Will and Marcus flanking Eloise, the house almost instantly became quiet. Then a calmer, more methodical noise started to emerge from the various rooms.

Marcus looked puzzled. “What now?”

Eloise said, “It sounds … it sounds like someone tidying up.”

She let out a small scream then as the chair that
Will had used to break the window flew back into the drawing room as if pulled on an elastic cord. A moment later, the shattered glass and the wooden frame did the same, flying away from the ground and reforming unbroken where they had been before.

Indistinct shadows still moved about beyond the lit windows, but as the sounds slowly faded, so did the human forms, the spirit world retreating again, leaving the house as it had been a little while before. Apart from the two sabres, Will could imagine not a single thing would be out of place in there. And again, if it hadn’t been for his intentions, Will would have admired Wyndham for being able to perform such sorcery.

The lights started to dim. All the shadows had disappeared, but just as it seemed the spirits were gone, a silhouette appeared in one of the upstairs rooms, a female figure who stood as if looking down at them. It was a shadow, nothing more, but Will was certain it was the young lady they’d seen at dinner, the lady who’d looked back at him with such concern.

“What’s up, Will?” He turned to look at Eloise, smiling reassurance, and when he looked back, the window was empty and the light that had filled the house faded abruptly. “Nothing. I was just thinking how odd it was, those spirits we just saw, the little girl and the man with the book, the young men playing billiards,
the party at dinner, they were … nothing, I was just thinking, that’s all.”

Marcus turned to look at the two of them, intrigued now that he was able to watch them closely.

Eloise appeared unaware of his gaze and instead looked at Will, the tenderness back in her expression as she said, “You were thinking that they were your family, not your own descendants perhaps, but still your family.”

“Yes, that’s what I was thinking.” He looked at Marcus who was idly stroking his scar. “I want to thank you for what you did in there.”

Marcus shrugged and Eloise said, “I’m sorry. Of course – Marcus, thank you. That sabre was flying towards me, without a doubt.”

“You’re welcome, but Will would’ve stopped it. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll save you properly.” He laughed at the thought.

Will said, “What will you tell Wyndham?”

Marcus shook his head. “Nothing, not any more. Maybe I’ll write in the book to keep him sweet for a while, but I don’t like what he’s doing, hurting a girl and all that, it doesn’t seem right.” He turned to Eloise. “And I know I was with Taz and them that night down by the river, but I didn’t know what I was doing, not until I saw Will. It’s weird, I had a sort of …”

He struggled to find a suitable word, and Eloise said, “An epiphany.”

“Is that what you call it? I like that – an epiphany.” He smiled. “And I suppose I knew then that it’d come to this sooner or later – I’m on your side now. If you’ll trust me.”

Eloise looked wary, but Will didn’t hesitate. “You’re a welcome ally. Though I have little idea what we can do, or where we can even go that will be safe for Eloise.”

“The school chapel,” said Marcus as if stating the obvious. “He has no powers in the chapel. He told me that.”

Will said, “You must be mistaken – he’s attacked me in a church before now.”

Marcus shook his head. “No, I don’t mean churches in general, just the school chapel.”

Eloise looked uncertain again, fearing a trap, and said, “Will …”

But Marcus appeared to read her thoughts and said, “It’s natural for you not to trust me, but what can I do? I give you my word, that’s all, that the chapel’s where we’ll be safe.”

Will and Eloise exchanged glances, enough to agree with each other, and without saying anything else, they started walking back towards the school, three figures lost together in a snowy landscape. Whether or
not they were right to trust Marcus, Will couldn’t help but see the symbolism, that here he was again, seeking sanctuary from the dangers of the world in a place that was holy.

B
y the time they reached the school they were covered with snow. It was not yet in total darkness and they stopped for a moment in Will’s usual position and looked at the few remaining people in the common room. Marcus’s usual chess partner was reading a book.

Will looked up at the darkened window on the top floor, but for the second night running he could tell that no one was there. Briefly he wondered if the watcher had been Alex Shawcross, if that was why he’d been absent these last two nights.

Perhaps Eloise would have felt differently about him if she’d realised the boy might have been the one who’d drawn the chalk diagram beneath her bed, who’d played a part in trying to kill her. But Will said nothing, not wanting to raise any subject that might remind her of the negative emotions they’d so recently left behind.

Eloise said, “Which is the best door, do you think, if we want to get to the chapel without being seen?”

Her question was addressed to Marcus. It was a nice
touch, thought Will, given that she knew the school a lot better than the new boy – it suggested a desire to include him, which in turn suggested she now accepted him.

Marcus turned to Will and said, “Can you open any door?”

“Yes.”

He turned back to Eloise and said, “The door to the kitchens. There’s a back corridor from there that takes us close to the steps down to the chapel.”

Eloise looked at Will, smiling as she said, “He’s right. Round the back.”

They walked the long way around rather than pass the front of the school, walking past one of the other common rooms which Eloise and Marcus looked at with mild contempt, though to Will it looked much the same as their own.

They also passed Dr Higson’s office. Despite the late hour, he was still in there, reading through paperwork at his desk.

Marcus said, “Have you seen Dr Higson? He’s sprained his wrist or something, got his hand all bandaged up.”

“How?”

“Fell on his morning run.”

“Poor him,” said Eloise and turned to Will. “That’s the headmaster in there. He’s such a sweet man – when I
came back after Christmas, he couldn’t have been nicer about it really. Didn’t lecture me about running away or living rough, just asked if I needed any help catching up. So cool.”

Will nodded, staring in like a visitor being shown the sights. Clearly Chris and Rachel had forgotten to tell Eloise that Will would be speaking with Higson about her more recent absence – perhaps she thought they’d made her excuses for her. It was equally clear that neither Eloise nor Marcus suspected Higson or thought there might be another explanation for his injury.

The kitchens were empty and they moved through them quickly, into the wood-panelled back corridor and out through another door, which itself was designed to look like a panelled wall from the other side. They turned right and down the steps into the short corridor that led to the chapel.

Once inside with the door closed, Eloise turned on one of the lights and said, “Don’t worry, we won’t be heard in here – you can’t hear a thing from the other side of that door.”

Will nodded and walked up the aisle, struck by how large it was for a family chapel, if not for the school that now used it. Had it been an act of guilt perhaps, built to make amends for having gained so much from the destruction of Marland Abbey itself?

It was charming in its own way, but very much of its age, full of fine artwork. It didn’t come close to the simple, monumental beauty of Will’s church, a building which he sometimes thought looked as if it had sprung out of the rock fully formed, a natural wonder rather than a man-made one. But this chapel was beautiful nonetheless.

He noted the steps leading down to a gate and a crypt beyond. He could explore it in due course, and if it proved unsafe to return to the new house for a time, he could quite possibly stay here. If what Marcus had said about Wyndham’s powers failing in this chapel was true, it could be the perfect lair for Will.

That in itself raised a question though. This was just a family chapel, built by his brother’s descendants, so why could Wyndham not work his magic here. He had managed to attack Will in the heart of the city cathedral, in his own chambers deep beneath it, so why should this holy place prove a barrier to him?

Marcus had sat down on the front pew, placing the sabre next to him, but Will walked over to him and said, “Did Wyndham tell you why his powers don’t work in here?”

“He doesn’t know. He told me to avoid confronting you in here – not that he told me to confront you at all – because his powers didn’t reach here and he wouldn’t be able to protect me.”

Eloise came and sat on the altar step facing Marcus. “Has he protected you elsewhere?”

“Not that I know of – he didn’t do much tonight, did he?”

Will said, “About the chapel?”

Marcus nodded. “I asked him, is it because it’s a church, and he got a bit funny with me, said why would a church stop the powers of good from destroying evil? Then he calmed down and said he didn’t know why this particular chapel was a problem for him. It just is.”

Will smiled, thinking how he’d misdirected Chris by pretending the chapel was significant, and now it seemed it really was. He looked up at the roof and around the walls, and said to himself as much as to them, “I suspect Henry would know, if only he was here to share his secret.”

Marcus followed Will’s gaze and said, “Who’s Henry?”

“The man who built it,” said Eloise. “What do you know about Wyndham?”

“Not much. He’s old. What I mean to say is, he looks about fifty, I’d say, grey hair, always wearing a suit. But he’s
old
. I think he’s at least two hundred, but probably more.”

“How can you be so certain?”

Will answered for him. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you. Marcus said Wyndham knew this place when he
was young, but before it was a school – he knew the family that lived here. And as Marcus pointed out, it’s been a school since the mid-nineteenth century.”