Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

T he negotiations went surprisingly smoothly. I’d had to leave the clearing to get a phone signal and Baudi had trailed me all the way, muttering, but Agatha Smiggleswith had answered her phone almost immediately and was more enthusiastic than I’d expected.

‘I have a few conditions,’ she said on speaker once I’d put my suggestion to her. ‘We’ll need to engage the services of a sorcerer to bind the wisp for the duration of each visit. It wouldn’t go down well if she decided to attack any of the museum visitors.’

I raised my eyebrows questioningly towards Baudi. Rather than looking offended, she seemed pleased by the idea that she was a dangerous creature who had to be magicked into submission. ‘That’s not a problem,’ she said.

‘We’ll also have to put her on probation to begin with. A trial period of, say, two months?’

Baudi’s mouth twisted. ‘One month.’ We eventually settled on six weeks, thus appeasing both parties.

‘I have a few conditions of my own,’ Baudi said loudly, keen to wrestle some control over the situation. ‘I want to be paid. I’m not giving my time up for free. In return for every hour I spend at the museum, I demand one bushel of apples. No stinting – I want a full bushel.’

I didn’t have the faintest idea how large a bushel was but apparently Smiggleswith did. She agreed without question.

‘Somebody will need to pick her up,’ I said. ‘I don’t think Baudi can travel into Doncaster on her own.’

‘That can be arranged, as long as she agrees to meet us by the road,’ Smiggleswith said. ‘I won’t risk any of my people tramping past the Fonaby Stone every two weeks.’

‘The curse doesn’t frighten me!’ Baudi said loudly.

I ignored her. ‘That’s settled then. Every two weeks Baudi will give a presentation to the public at Doncaster Museum. I am sure there are any number of topics on which she can wax lyrical.’

The will-o’-the-wisp nodded emphatically. ‘Damned right there are.’

‘She’ll be a very popular addition,’ Smiggleswith agreed. ‘No other museum in the country can boast of a will-o’-the-wisp on its staff. That was a fabulous idea of Lord Pemberville’s. The man is a genius.’

She wouldn’t have said that if she could have seen him at that moment, standing slack-jawed and stock-still in a smelly marsh. There was even a dribble of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth.

I refrained from commenting and ended the call. Hester flew up to my ear. ‘It’s not too late to kill her, you know. You can still do it.’

I waved her away and looked at Baudi. ‘Your turn,’ I said. ‘Let the others go.’

‘Perhaps I could keep them until the end of the week?’ she said.

I folded my arms and stared at her. She sighed. ‘Alright, then. Come on.’ She turned around and hovered back towards her lair. I followed, texting Mark and Rizwan as I walked: Disaster averted. All good now.

The three little dots appeared again. A moment later, a reply appeared: Very glad to hear it. More dots. We could only find one mention of a Chuchi. He was a nasty ogre who was known for manipulating weaker magical creatures to do his dirty work.

Hmm; like persuading will-o’-the-wisps to entrap travellers and imprison them until he arrived to crunch on their bones. I gazed at Baudi’s retreating blue back and typed another message. Was?

The response came quickly: He was killed in a fight in the nineties.

A wave of sympathy for Baudi washed through me. If she’d been holding out for a scammy ogre for thirty years, it was a wonder she’d done as well as she had. She deserved better; any living creature did.

I looked down at my traitorous hands and noticed a single spark flickering at the tip of my left index finger. Apart from fiends, I thought; fiends didn’t deserve a damned thing.

Hugo was staring at me. ‘You saved us,’ he said.

I wasn’t convinced they’d needed saving – Baudi would probably have released them before too long – but I agreed anyway. There was no harm in receiving Hugo’s eternal gratitude. ‘Not only did I save you, but I also found the treasure all on my own.’ I pulled out the little golden skull. ‘Go me.’

‘Go you indeed.’

I suppressed a grin. ‘I’m a treasure hunter extraordinaire , Hugo, and it’s not the first time your arse has needed rescuing. It won’t be the last, either. Honestly, you’re lucky you’ve got me around.’

He snorted. ‘I’ve saved your arse too.’

‘I’m in the lead. I’ve saved you more times than you’ve saved me.’

He stepped towards me. ‘So we’re keeping track now?’ He scanned my face then continued lightly, ‘Because none of us would have been in this situation if you weren’t so determined to help Gordon.’

Yeah, alright. I could admit it. ‘Fine. It was my fault. No good deed goes unpunished.’

‘We’re even, then.’

I rolled my eyes.

‘Say it, Daisy.’

‘Can’t you just admit that I’m better?’

He folded his arms, his eyes dancing, and I shook my head in mock irritation. ‘We’re even,’ I muttered.

He smiled with satisfaction and headed in the direction – and relative safety – of the path. My amusement ebbed away. ‘I’ll always come and save you, Hugo,’ I whispered. He didn’t look around and I wasn’t sure that he’d heard me.

‘Can we leave now?’ Hester demanded. ‘I want to get as far away from this place as we can.’

‘Lead the way.’ I turned and waved at Baudi, who was eyeing us from the centre of the clearing. ‘Stay in touch,’ I told her. ‘Let me know if you have any problems.’

Otis gave me an approving nod. Miriam, Slim and Becky managed tight smiles in Baudi’s direction, and then we left.

We drove through the night and arrived outside Gordon Mackenzie’s little house on the fringes of Edinburgh at the same time as the postman. I yawned and watched as he slipped a collection of letters through the door, then I glanced at Hugo.

‘You should come in with me,’ I said. ‘This was your treasure hunt as much as mine.’ I gestured to the Jeep behind us. ‘I’m sure that Gordon would be happy to see Miriam, Becky and Slim, too. We all had a hand to play in retrieving the skull for him.’

Hugo turned off the engine, took the keys out of the ignition and fiddled with them. It was the only hint that he was concerned about what would happen next. ‘You’re the one who did the heavy lifting,’ he said. ‘And I don’t think Gordon will want me inside his home – he’s nervous enough as it is. It’s best if you hand over the skull on your own.’ The keys jangled in his hands.

‘It’s your call,’ I said. I was disappointed but I understood. ‘I’ll make sure he tells me what the skull does and what will happen next. This is your story, Hugo, not mine.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s not my story, and it’s not yours either. Neither is it Gordon’s. This tale belongs to Lady Rose. Maybe this will finally shed light on what happened to her.’ He sounded doubtful.

‘Your parents—’ I began.

He interrupted me. ‘Let’s not go there. Let’s wait and see what happens with the skull first.’

I gave a tiny nod then, without thinking, I leaned across and brushed my lips against his stubbled cheek. ‘I won’t be long,’ I promised.

He gazed into my eyes. ‘You smell of stinky marsh. He won’t want you to stay for long.’

I laughed. ‘You smell worse.’

‘I can’t argue with that.’

I stepped out. Otis and Hester came with me. ‘Hugo’s not coming but we can, right?’ Otis asked. ‘I want to see why this skull is so special.’

Hester’s eyes were wide with anticipation. ‘I want fireworks!’

‘I hope there will be nothing of the sort,’ I said primly. I crooked my finger at them and they settled in their usual positions on my shoulders. I cast another look at Hugo’s tense expression; the faster this was done, the better.

Gordon opened the front door before I reached it, smiled awkwardly at me in greeting, and looked at Hugo and the second Jeep. ‘They’ll wait out here,’ I said.

He blinked, suggesting that he understood Hugo’s reasons for staying outside. Maybe he did. He held open the door. ‘Welcome to my home,’ he said. ‘You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here, Daisy. I’m so glad you found the skull. This will change everything.’ He sounded certain, and I hoped he was right.

I headed down a narrow corridor with polished wooden flooring into a small kitchen. I hadn’t given much thought to Gordon’s house, but I suppose I’d expected an empty bachelor pad with the inevitable collection of nerdy memorabilia neatly displayed and meticulously dusted. That image couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

Gordon’s home was certainly clean, but it was cluttered and homely. Family photographs decorated the walls alongside little watercolours of local beauty spots. There were some items I’d expect to see in a sorcerer’s house, such as old books relating to runes, but mostly what was on display was pretty crockery, simple wooden carvings and well-tended plants.

He was obviously a competent cook as well: the kitchen was bursting to the seams with equipment. There was an old mixer that looked as if it had come from the 1950s, a heavy marble rolling pin, and several tubs of carefully labelled baking ingredients. The heavenly scent of baking bread wafted from the old oven. I was impressed.

Hester gave a low whistle. ‘Nice! Are you a baker?’

Gordon’s cheeks flushed. ‘I try.’

‘Wonderful!’ Otis beamed.

‘Thank you.’ He clasped his hands. ‘Would you like something to drink? I can brew a pot of coffee, or I have a collection of nice teas.’

Given that Hugo and the others were waiting outside, I thought it wise not to linger. ‘That’s very kind of you, Gordon,’ I said. ‘But we won’t stay for long.’ Hester pouted.

I delved into my pocket and tried my hardest not to add a dramatic flourish as I pulled out the skull. I’d cleaned it, and when I placed it on the kitchen table the sunlight streaming in through the window made it glint.

Gordon breathed out. ‘Oh.’ He paused. ‘Oh. I wasn’t expecting it to be so pretty. Was it difficult to find?’

I considered telling him the whole story then decided against it. ‘All in a day’s work,’ I said. Which was kind of true. ‘Now, can you tell me what it does? I can feel its magic every time I touch it. It’s obviously powerful.’

‘It certainly is.’ He was still gazing reverently at the skull. ‘This will do it. This will reveal the truth about Lady Rose’s disappearance once for and all.’

‘How?’

Gordon picked it up and turned it over. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘you might not believe this but?—’

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence because the doorbell rang. He jerked and his brow creased, and he handed the skull to me. ‘Wait a minute. I’ll go and see who that is.’

I wondered idly if it was Hugo; perhaps he’d decided to join us after all. Warmed by the thought, I followed Gordon. I paused by the kitchen door and squinted towards the end of the hallway; the brown-haired man standing at the front porch was wearing a postman’s uniform.

As soon as I saw him, my skin started to itch. I opened my mouth and gave a strangled yell. ‘Gordon!’ He hesitated. ‘Gordon! Get back here!’

He turned. ‘What is it?’

‘That’s no postman – your postman has already been and gone.’ I stared fearfully at the man. He looked human and he didn’t appear threatening, but I already knew that powerful fiends could take on other forms. And from the way my body was prickling, I knew exactly which fiend was on Gordon’s doorstep.

The ‘postman’ leaned forward. ‘Hello, daughter.’

My body screamed at me. I lunged for Gordon to pull him safely behind me, but my limbs wouldn’t obey me; terror had taken over. The floor of the sweet little house juddered as uncontrolled earth magic flowed out of me. Heat surrounded me and, when I looked down, flames were licking outwards from my body.

‘That’s it. Keep going,’ Athair said encouragingly.

‘Daisy,’ Gordon hissed. ‘What’s happening?’

I opened my mouth but no words would come.

Otis shrieked and threw himself into my pocket as Hester yelled in my ear, ‘Your hands! Daisy!’

I gazed at the tiny flickers of lightning sparking between each fingertip. I was still clutching the skull and, horrifyingly, I felt it change temperature. Within three beats of my adrenaline-fuelled heart, it was icy cold. I gasped, dropped it and it thudded at my feet.

That was when its eye sockets started to glow.

I dimly heard Athair say something before he stepped off the doorstep and vanished.

Gordon’s eyes widened. ‘No,’ he whispered, staring at the skull. ‘No, not yet. We’re not ready.’ He raised his hands and started to etch a rune in the air, his fingers dancing at high speed. The skull started to spin on the spot, moving faster and faster.

‘Daisy!’ Hester shrieked in panic. ‘Daisy!’

Gordon completed the rune and lurched forward in a bid to reach me, but he couldn’t get close. The sparks from my fingertips scorched the air and forced him back.

The house was still shaking and cracks were appearing in the plaster around us. The noise was tremendous, roaring through my ears.

I bent down to grab the skull, but before I could touch it Gordon gave a sharp cry. I looked up as a large chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling and landed on his head. He crumpled in an instant.

Then I saw a blinding flash of white light and heard a high-pitched ringing in my ears. Losing control not only of my magic but my body too, I tumbled forward. Cumbubbling bollocks.