Castle of Shadows (7 page)

‘Why didn’t you tell me all this years ago?’

‘To what purpose? So you would have hatred festering inside you? So you would grow fearful of your situation and frustrated at your powerlessness? Heaven knows you’ve had little enough childhood as it is! And what good would it have done to tell you of my suspicions about the Prime Minister? Your worlds did not coincide. You had forgotten his existence and he yours. It was safer for you to remain ignorant. If only you had never found that letter!’ He sighed. ‘But once you had found it… Yes. You are right. I should have told you then. But…you are so
intemperate, Charlie. I feared what you might do.’

‘Well, she’s gone and done something worse,’ Tobias said. ‘And you can both stop blaming yourselves. The only person to blame for this mess is Windlass. Our job is to figure out what to do next, and that’s easy. Give Nell the letter. See if the Resistance can find your mum before he does.’

‘Tobias is right,’ said Mr Moleglass.

‘No,’ Charlie said. The butler’s mouth dropped open. Tobias frowned. ‘I’m not giving Nell the letter,’ she said. ‘I’m not giving anyone the letter.’

‘Then Windlass wins!’ shouted Tobias.

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘
I’m
going to talk to the Resistance. I want Nell to arrange a meeting as soon as possible.’

Mr Moleglass’s eyes widened in horror, but Tobias’s look of surprise melted into a broad grin. ‘Well done, Charlie,’ he said softly.

‘Absolutely not!’ Mr Moleglass snapped. ‘You cannot leave the Castle. It is too dangerous!’

He meant for the best, but he was wrong. She walked over to the chess table and picked up a white pawn. It was carved of bone and felt cool and heavy in her hand. She had known and loved these pieces for as long as she could remember.

‘This is what I’ve been, all these years,’ she said, holding it out. ‘But remember what you always tell me, Mr Moleglass: never despise a pawn. If it succeeds in
crossing the board safely, it becomes a queen – the most powerful piece in the game.’ She replaced the chess piece on its square and turned to the butler. ‘I won’t be a pawn any more. I’m going to find my mother.’

He stared at her, then turned to Tobias.

‘She’s right,’ said the gardener’s boy. ‘Sorry, Mr M, but it’s checkmate.’

Moleglass walked to his armchair and collapsed into it. He put his face in his hands. After a moment, he looked up, his eyes full of foreboding. ‘Very well,’ he sighed. ‘At least, include me in your plans. It’s true that I have no turn for adventure, but perhaps I can be useful in other ways.’

‘I’ll go find Nell in a minute,’ said Tobias. ‘Maria’ll fetch her for me. We’ll set up a meeting with the Resistance. All that’s easy enough. The hard part’s gonna be getting Charlie out of the Castle. It’ll have to be at night, and blamed if I can think of a safe way to do it. I don’t fancy trying to get her past the Guard
and
the hounds. It’s too chancy.’

Moleglass frowned in thought. ‘I think I know of a way. No one has done it before, but I cannot think why it would not work.
If
you are brave enough, Charlie. It will, for you, require much courage indeed!’

‘I can’t! It’s no good.’

‘Then you stay here, Charlie, and Tobias takes the letter to the Resistance.’ Mr Moleglass shrugged. ‘As you have been at pains to make clear, it is your decision.’

She glared at him. ‘No!’ she said at last. ‘I-I’ll do it.’ She felt sick. Mr Moleglass’s plan was brilliant. It was also her worst nightmare.

It was the middle of the night, and they were standing in the freight room, examining a small wooden carriage sitting on a narrow railway track. The track disappeared into a hole in the wall. The freight room occupied the whole of the Castle’s south cellar. It was an enormous room lined with towering shelves. The floor was cluttered with barrels, crates, and wheeled carts. But the most important object in the room was the steam engine which powered the pneumatic railway used to ship supplies from the City. The railway tunnel cut through the Castle hill and bored under part of the City itself. It had been installed in the 1830s by her grandfather, in the great age of pneumatics, when air-powered railway mania had swept the whole of the Eastern Hemisphere.

Supplies still arrived at the Castle daily, but now it was after midnight, and the freight room looked ghostly and
abandoned in the light of a single kerosene lantern. Charlie stared at the tunnel’s mouth, a hole carved into sheer stone. It didn’t help to know the track was only a quarter of a mile long and ended in a modern, purpose-built building in the heart of the mercantile district. A quarter of a mile of dark tunnel was a very long way.

The hole was only two and a half feet tall and wide, and the carriage that travelled through it was built to carry freight, not humans. She would make the journey lying down inside that little wooden car. Mr Moleglass would operate the steam engine that stood to one side of the tunnel, its furnace glowing red as Tobias shovelled more coal into it.

The carriage fitted into the tunnel like a bullet in a gun barrel, and had a row of bristles either end to form an airtight seal. The engine pumped all the air out of the tunnel, which created a vacuum. And the carriage, with her inside, would be sucked along iron rails from one end of the tunnel to the other. In the dark. Charlie shuddered. What if it got stuck? It had been known to happen. It was only slight comfort that Tobias would be going with her.

‘That ought to do it, Mr M,’ Tobias said, throwing the shovel back onto the coal heap and shutting the furnace door. ‘You sure you know how to work this thing?’

‘I am not an imbecile, boy! The mechanism is perfectly simple. Now, make sure they send you both back safely.’

‘Nell’s promised,’ said Tobias. ‘She’s staying at my
house tonight. Told O’Dair her mum was on her deathbed and got leave to sleep out. We’ll see Charlie back safe and sound, don’t worry.’

They turned and looked at her. ‘Have you got the letter?’ Mr Moleglass asked kindly. He knew she was terrified. She nodded.

‘All set then?’ Tobias jumped in the carriage and lay down.

Charlie took a deep breath and climbed in beside him.

‘Ow! Mind your elbow!’ he grunted. But he took hold of her freezing hand in his warm one and held it tight.

‘Ready, Charlie?’ Mr Moleglass stood at the controls, his hand on the lever.

‘Just do it!’ She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see the darkness swallow her. The engine chuffed louder. Then there was a moment of sheer panic, as the vacuum took hold, and the carriage was sucked into the tunnel. The air in the carriage shifted, pressed on her. There was only this air now – the air trapped in the carriage with her and Tobias. It was all they had to breathe until they reached the other end. Panic welled up, flooding every inch of her. The cart trundled along the tracks, faster and faster.

‘Hold on, Charlie!’ Tobias shouted over the whirr of the wheels. ‘Only five minutes. Remember, the dark can’t kill you!’

She wasn’t sure. Her heart was racing faster than the click of the wheels. She was trapped in a wormhole
beneath tons of rock! Five minutes? It had been forever! She wanted to scream. She clutched his hand even harder. She would do this or die!

And then they were out with a
whoosh!
and a rush of cold air on her face. Charlie opened her eyes as they hit the bumpers and jarred to a standstill. Her head thudded against the end of the carriage.

‘Dang it!’ said Tobias. ‘Should have faced the other way.’ He sat up, rubbing his head. ‘You all right?’

She struggled upright, dazed. Gulped air. Gradually her heart slowed. She had done it!

‘Wasn’t so bad, was it?’

Charlie ignored the remark and clambered out of the carriage. The very thought of getting back in it for the return journey made her ill. ‘Let’s get out of here!’

They fumbled through the semi-darkness of the warehouse and found the door by touch. Tobias knelt, and Charlie heard the metallic clicking of the buttonhook. Then the door opened and released them into the moonlit streets of Quale City.

She stared about her in awe, the tunnel forgotten. She had not been out of the Castle since she was five, when there had been a long, stuffy carriage ride and the sea at the end of it. Quale City, even at night, silent and asleep, was a magical, unknown world.

So many buildings! And all crammed together, higgledy-piggledy, with no spaces in between. She stood in the middle of the cobbled street, turning slowly round
and round, gazing open-mouthed at the shops and warehouses, tall and short, old and new, brick and stone, stucco and wood. She stared at the streetlamps glowing blue-white with gas light, at the gutter dividing the street, something smelly trickling along its length. She started across the street to take a closer look at the shop fronts. Tobias grabbed her arm.

‘We ain’t here to sightsee. Where’s Nell? She’s supposed to meet…
Look out!
’ Half a dozen figures darted from the shadows. They were hooded and masked. Before Charlie could turn and run, or even scream, a sack dropped over her head. Tobias’s hand was torn from her arm. Her own hands were grabbed and tied behind her, and she heard grunts and the muffled sound of a struggle.

‘Be quiet and do as you’re told,’ a man’s voice hissed in her ear, ‘and you won’t be hurt.’ His hands gripped her shoulders. Charlie twisted and squirmed, trying to kick out. ‘Stop that!’ he muttered. A grunt and ‘Little devil!’ as her foot made contact. He grabbed her round her middle, and she was dangling from her waist, writhing like a sack of eels.

She stopped wriggling long enough to gasp for air. The coarse fabric of the sack sucked into her open mouth. She twisted her head away and managed one scream, as shrill as Mr Moleglass’s kettle.

‘Shut up! Make another noise and I’ll shove me kerchief down your throat and see how you like that!’

She didn’t have breath left to scream again. Charlie
hung limply, fighting back fear so she could think. Who were these people? She had read horrible stories in the newspapers about children who disappeared, never to be seen again. Had she been stolen to work in the mills? Or deep underground in the northern mines, where she’d never see daylight again? That thought was bad enough, but a worse one wormed into her head: rumours of people snatched to make pies and dog meat…

Just as she felt she might vomit, the man carrying her lurched to a stop. He grunted as he lifted her and dumped her face-down onto a hard surface. A body thudded next to her. Tobias? She clung to that hope as the floor she was lying on swayed and began to move. She heard the clomp of horses’ hooves, the grind of iron-rimmed wheels on cobbles. She was in a cart! Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down. Being sick inside this sack was an unbearable thought.

The jouncing lasted fifteen or twenty minutes, then stopped. She was hauled out and guided through a doorway and up some stairs. A hand pushed her forward into a wash of light that filtered through the cloth over her head. When the sack was pulled off she was blinded for a moment by the brightness of several kerosene lanterns. Her hands were untied, and Charlie stood rubbing her wrists and blinking at her kidnappers. She was shaking so hard it was difficult to stand.

She turned her head and saw Tobias behind her, looking furious. The wave of relief dried in an instant
when she saw who was untying his hands: Nell Sorrell!

‘How
dare
you!’ she shouted. ‘We trusted you! We were coming to meet you! How dare you treat us like this! I’ll…I’ll…’ She stopped. She would
what
? She was powerless to do anything. The knowledge made her angrier still.

‘I’m sorry, Char— Your Highness,’ said Nell, as she finished untying Tobias and stepped back. She was pale and nervous, hardly recognisable in a blue coat and skirt, her curly brown hair tied back with a ribbon instead of hidden beneath a maid’s cap. ‘There’s good reason for bringing you here like this. Let us explain.’

Tobias said nothing. His face was white with anger. He glanced at her and shrugged. They were in no position to do anything but listen. Charlie took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

She turned to study the people in the room. Besides Nell, seven Resistance members were gathered around her and Tobias, some of them men holding masks and hoods. There were two other women and five men. One of the women was old, with a gentle face. She wore a black dress and an old-fashioned lace cap atop her white hair. The other was younger, dressed all in grey with a long face and spectacles perched on a sharp nose. Two of the men wore cloth caps and workmen’s jackets; the third, a powerfully built man of about twenty-five, wore a brown suit.

The remaining two men were older. One was tall and
balding and dressed like a banker, in severe grey and black. The other was altogether untidier, but it was he who held Charlie’s gaze. This was the leader. She was sure of it. She glared at him. ‘Who are you?’

He smiled. He was not a tall man. He was not a handsome man. His nose and mouth were too big for his narrow face; his mouse-brown hair was long and untidy. But his eyes sparkled with intelligence and humour. He was thin and dressed in shabby clothes that hung from his body, but he moved towards her with a grace and confidence that reminded her of her father gliding through his scaffolding.

The stranger stood in front of her, his head cocked to one side, his entire body expressing an almost comical curiosity. But the smile in his eyes had steel behind it. ‘My name is Peter. I am in charge here. But you are wrong, my child. The question is, who are
you
?’

Charlie stretched as tall as she could. ‘I am Her Royal Highness, Charlotte Augusta Joanna Hortense, Princess of Quale, and
you
, sir, if you dare threaten me, tread dangerously close to treason!’

A snort exploded beside her, and she whirled to see Tobias trying to smother a spurt of laughter. ‘Trust you, Charlie!’ He shook his head and shook the laughter away with it. His eyes grew angry again. ‘Nell!’ he barked. ‘Speak up for us! You brung us here, and I for one don’t much appreciate the reception we’ve got! If this is the way the Resistance treats its friends—’

‘Is this your cousin, Nell?’ asked Peter.

‘Yes. It’s Toby. Toby Petch. And she may not look like it, but she
is
the Princess.’

‘Yes, well. Looks can deceive.’ He smiled at Charlie again. ‘I apologise, Your Highness, for the rough handling. But we cannot afford to be careless. Alistair Windlass is not a man to miss a trick, and for all I knew, you might have been the bait to catch a fish which has long been eluding him. Indeed, Master Petch,’ his sharp eyes darted to Tobias, ‘how do I know you are not in his service, come here to spy on us?’

‘I serve no one. And never shall.’ Tobias’s face was as hard as stone.

‘No? Perhaps not the Prime Minister, but what about your uncle? Zebediah Petch has turned profiteering into an art form in the last few years. In troubled times a master thief can gain new spheres of influence. He might think to dabble in politics…broker power. And he has a reputation for demanding loyalty from his family.’

‘I don’t belong to the Petches. I ain’t never met Zebediah. My stepdad was his brother, but I got nothing to do with the Family. Ask Nell if you don’t believe me!’

‘He’s telling the truth, Peter.’

The man shrugged. ‘I must apologise if I appear overly cautious. Trust belongs to gentler times. However, I do believe you, young man. You, I think, are an accomplished liar, but your cousin is not. Now, you have a letter to show us, I believe, Your Highness?’

‘First,’ said Charlie, ‘Tell me what the Resistance wants. Are you only after Windlass, or do you intend to destroy the monarchy too?’

‘Ah, politics.’ His eyes laughed at her. ‘Dreary, dreary politics. We are not politicians here, Your Highness. We are neither Republicans nor Anarchists nor Radicals. At least, none of us except Joseph.’ He smiled at the young man in the brown suit, who did not smile back. ‘We have no ambitions to topple the monarchy. We merely intend to rid Quale of a dangerous man who is preparing to betray us to our dearly unloved neighbours, the Esceanians.’

‘But who
are
you?’

Peter motioned towards the others, each in turn. ‘Bankers and builders. School masters and governesses and clerks. Shopkeepers, tradesmen, labourers, market gardeners, seamstresses, dancing masters and maiden aunts. Fathers and mothers. Grandmothers, even.’ The elderly woman in black smiled. ‘We eight here tonight are the Council of the Resistance, which represents all the people who have suffered under Windlass’s government these last five years. And who will suffer still more if this country goes to war with Esceania! A war which, if Windlass succeeds in his treachery, Quale cannot win.’ His face had lost all humour: the joker had turned deadly serious at last.

‘Please, ma’am,’ he gestured to a table and chairs standing in a corner of the room. ‘Let us talk properly.
You have been locked away in the Castle for years. You will be ignorant of many things which concern your father’s subjects. Will you allow me to enlighten you about a few of them?’

It would do no harm to listen. She nodded.

‘Excellent!’ He smiled his gratitude. ‘Nell? Perhaps you and your cousin would care to join us?’ He held a chair for Charlie, and then Nell, with nearly as much grace as Mr Moleglass, then seated himself. Tobias grunted as he settled next to Charlie. His face was expressionless as he watched the Resistance leader, but Charlie could tell he was still furious about being kidnapped. Joseph squeezed into a space next to Nell. The other Resistance members gathered near.