Chapter 14

Chapter

Fourteen

N one of us said much as we traversed the woods on our way back to open land and empty skies. It might have been the presence of the spiders, which herded us through the trees as if we were errant sheep who had to be shown the way, or it might have been their father’s revelations that kept us silent. We were all chewing over what we had learned and what it could mean for our future.

Despite my preoccupation, I couldn’t avoid the blast of relief when we finally stepped out of the woods and gazed upon Hammerwich. Enjoying the moment, I breathed in the fresh cold air then turned back to thank the spiders for their help but all six of them had already gone, their duty complete.

I scanned the trees for a long moment and shrugged. They were in the right place; the woods were clearly protected and the spider family as safe as they ever could be. Those trees had stood for many hundreds of years and hopefully would remain for hundreds more.

Hugo pulled out a water bottle and took several long swallows. Hester tilted her head up to the sun and Otis rubbed at the greenish skin on his bare arms with a faint frown. It appeared that nobody wanted to be the first to speak. I nibbled on my bottom lip and watched a lazy pigeon flap past us.

But we had to talk about it sooner or later. I cleared my throat. ‘It might mean nothing,’ I said. ‘Even if what he said is true and somebody possessed the means to rid the world of fiends – and actually did so – they couldn’t be eradicated forever. Blood magic still exists therefore fiends still exist.’

Hugo screwed the lid back onto his water bottle and looked at me. Usually, his blue eyes reminded me of smooth velvet but now their colour put me in mind of a gathering storm. ‘Fiends have always existed in some form or other. We can trace their history back to the turn of the first millennium. There are fiends embroidered onto the Bayeux Tapestry and that’s been in existence since the eleventh century. They are described in the Domesday Book.’

He was referring to the survey of swathes of the country that had been completed at the behest of William the Conqueror in 1086. ‘And there are records in a temperature-controlled vault in the Royal Elvish Institute that reference all known fiends throughout the centuries. You’ve seen them, Daisy.’

He was right: I’d managed to gain access to that information not long after Athair had first revealed himself to be my father. ‘Records can be altered,’ I said, playing devil’s advocate. ‘Especially historical ones. A lot of those records have been kept hidden from the general public. The less people know about them, the easier they are to change.’

Hugo shook his head. ‘But even when those historical records are hidden from public view, there are still too many of them to give credence to such a radical event. It never happened, Daisy. There has never been a purging of every fiend. Whatever rumours the spider heard, nobody has ever rid the world of them all.’

He paused. ‘But just because it didn’t happen then, doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen now,’ he added softly. ‘It doesn’t mean those rumours were false, it simply means that the final event has never taken place.’

‘Yet,’ Otis whispered.

A broad grin spread across Hester’s face. ‘Yet!’ she shouted.

I was a long way from sharing her excitement. ‘Do you think it might have something to do with the map you found at Culcreuch Castle? Could it be related to Lincolnshire? Could that be the reason why Athair doesn’t want us to go there?’

‘It’s certainly possible.’ Hugo gazed at me. ‘But we don’t have any concrete information. All we have is vague guesswork and ancient rumours.’

I nodded and bit my lip. ‘What the spider said about coppicing the wood and the magna pesti-something? What did that mean?’

‘The magna pestiliencia is one of the names for the Black Death,’ Hugo explained.

I stiffened. Athair had told me he’d been alive during that time. ‘Mid-fourteenth century,’ I said. ‘Right?’

He nodded. ‘And coppicing woodland is an ancient woodland management technique that dates back to the Stone Age.’

‘Three million years ago?’ Otis asked in disbelief.

‘Yep. Give or take.’ Hugo pointed behind us. ‘But although these woods are ancient, they’re not wild. They’ve not been here since the dawn of time. The people of Hammerwich are probably responsible for coppicing them in more recent times. If we can find out roughly when the coppicing started here, we’ll get a more accurate idea of when the spider might have heard that rumour.’ He eyed us. ‘It’s not much. Like Lincolnshire, it’s not much more than another shot in the dark.’

He wasn’t wrong, but desperate times called for desperate measures. ‘We have to take what we can get.’

He grinned suddenly. ‘That we do.’

We meandered back to the little park and perched on the bench where we’d chatted to Amy the day before. It was pleasing to see that we were no longer the only visitors: the small children’s area, complete with swings, slide and a climbing frame, was occupied by two or three families enjoying the midday sun. There were also a few cars and pedestrians on the streets. Hammerwich was still a quiet place but at least today it wasn’t entirely devoid of life.

Hugo looked around, double-checking that nobody was near enough to overhear our conversation, then took out his phone. He put it onto speaker and placed it on the bench as he called the team of Primes back at Pemberville Castle.

Becky answered on the second ring: she’d clearly been waiting for our call. ‘Hey! How are you guys?’ Her bubbly voice was like a balm. ‘Have you had any joy locating that extra missing gold?’

To be honest, I’d forgotten the reason we’d come to Hammerwich. Athair’s wild goose chase seemed even less important now than it had before.

‘We’re still investigating,’ Hugo replied, in a tone that suggested the same lack of interest.

Becky got the message instantly. ‘Fair enough,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Hang on. I’m putting you on speaker. The others are here. Mark is ready to give you an update on our Lincolnshire progress.’

There was a fuzzy noise before Mark’s familiar voice filled the line. ‘We’ve got a long list of locations in Lincolnshire that might be of interest,’ he said. ‘There are plenty of vanished items and mysterious places that haven’t been fully explored. For example, there are the remains of an old Templar church at a place called Bruer. Some stories suggest that the Templars kept an idol there that was of great importance – there’s a chance that idol was John the Baptist’s decapitated head.’

I recoiled. Eugh.

‘Then there’s something called the Brass Wellie from Boston,’ he told us. ‘There’s a lot of debate about what it actually is, but it’s a lost object of some significance and definitely has some magical power, although it appears to be agricultural in nature.’

He paused for breath. ‘And in more rural Lincolnshire there’s a decorative grave marker. Four hundred skeletons were recently uncovered nearby. I’m waiting to hear back from one of the archaeologists on that particular project, so I can’t tell you much more at the moment. However, I should also mention the items that have already been discovered but whose existence remains unexplained, such as the Corieltauvi Bull Rider. That’s a small figurine, two thousand years old, that was dug up by a metal detectorist. Or the Witham Shield from the Iron Age, which possesses mystic elements. And if it’s not objects we’re searching for but actual creatures, there is the supposed river god, Old Muddyface.’

I heard Rizwan in the background. ‘Not a god, obviously. Probably another damned troll.’

Duchess’s voice boomed, ‘Another what ?’

‘Another wonderful troll, Duchess. What did you think I said?’ He was lucky she was often hard of hearing.

Mark continued. ‘There’s a selkie called Jenny Hearn, who’s been hanging around the Trent for decades.’ He sighed with exasperation. ‘We’ve tried to contact her but she’s not known for either her enthusiasm or friendliness. To be honest, so far we probably have more than a hundred places, people and objects of interest in Lincolnshire. I don’t see how we can narrow them down without further information. And there are probably hundreds of other things out there that we don’t know about.’

Rizwan’s muffled voice spoke again. ‘Tell them about the dead guy.’

Mark sighed. ‘There is a chance that we’ve identified the corpse you found in Culcreuch Castle. A metal detectorist called William Hausman vanished several years ago. The timing of his disappearance matches the decomposition.’

‘Where did Hausman disappear from?’ Hugo asked.

‘King’s Lynn,’ Mark replied. ‘It’s in Norfolk, but it’s only a stone’s throw from the border with Lincolnshire.’

My fingers twisted together. The geographical coincidence couldn’t be ignored: perhaps poor Mr Hausman had gotten too close to whatever the spider had alluded to – and whatever Athair was trying to hide.

Hugo raised his eyebrows at me in question. I knew what he was asking and I nodded. What other choice was there? We had to add the spider’s information into the mix. ‘It’s possible that we have something else which might help. Or,’ he demurred, ‘it might not.’

‘Why do I suspect it will be the latter?’ Mark asked drily.

Hugo smiled slightly. ‘There are some woods to the north of Hammerwich,’ he said. ‘Find out what date coppicing started there and narrow your search to items and people from between that date and the outbreak of the Black Death.’

For a long moment there was silence on the other end of the phone until eventually Miriam responded. ‘Hugo, dear,’ she said with infinite patience. ‘Hammerwich is in Staffordshire. It’s nowhere near Lincolnshire.’

‘I’m aware of that, Miriam.’ Hugo hesitated. ‘We met a very old creature who’d heard a rumour about someone who lived during that period of time and who possessed the means to expel all fiends in one go.’

Hester leaned into my ear. ‘You know, when he says it like that, it sounds completely ridiculous,’ she muttered.

I grimaced. Yeah. It did.

‘Exactly how many wild goose chases do you want us to go on?’ Mark asked.

Hugo winced so I answered for him. ‘Just these two.’ I tried to sound cheerful. ‘They might be linked.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Call it gut instinct,’ I said.

This time it was Duchess whose voice I heard in the background. ‘My gut instinct is telling me very loudly that it’s time for lunch,’ she declared. There was a chorus of groans. I suspected this was not the first time today that Duchess had mentioned her stomach.

Becky spoke up. ‘Are you both sure about this?’

‘We’re not sure about anything, Becky,’ I told her, trying to be honest. ‘But it’s got to be worth a shot.’

‘Then we’ll do our best,’ she said, but even she sounded doubtful.

‘Thanks.’

Hugo picked up the phone. ‘Email the list of places and things you’ve already found,’ he said. ‘It’ll be helpful to look over it.’

‘No problem.’

There was a chorus of goodbyes before Hugo ended the call. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, when he saw my expression. ‘The Primes have been here before. We’ve had lots of treasure hunts that began with smoky whispers and eventually led to great success. This hunt will be even more successful.’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘Because this time the two of us are working together. We won’t fail – we are the greatest hunters Britain has ever seen.’

I grinned. ‘Even when we don’t have the foggiest idea what we’re hunting for.’

Otis pumped the air. ‘Go, team!’

A slim figure caught my eye and I looked up in time to see Amy push open the park gate and head towards us. I waved at her. ‘We found her necklace,’ I said. ‘That’s not nothing, either.’

Hugo grunted in response then leaned back against the bench and draped an arm around my shoulders as we watched the teenager approach. ‘Top o’ the morning to ye!’ she called in a mock Irish accent.

I glanced at my watch: it was past noon but I wasn’t so old that I didn’t recall what it was like to be a teenager: any time before 3pm had felt like morning when I was seventeen years old.

I smiled at her but Hugo was less welcoming. ‘You should have told us about the spider, Amy,’ he chided.

Her eyes widened. ‘What do you mean? I did tell you. You said spiders didn’t bother you. In fact,’ she said, ‘I believe I specifically said the words huge and spider. I didn’t lie, not even by omission.’

Hester spiralled a metre into the air and closed the gap between them. While her wings beat behind her, she thrust out her hand towards Amy. ‘I like your style,’ she proclaimed gravely. ‘I like it a lot. Shake my hand.’

If Amy was taken aback by Hester’s actions, she didn’t show it; she simply inclined her head like a queen and extended her pinkie to the little brownie. Hester smacked her lips in satisfaction and, with some awkwardness, managed to grab hold of the tip of Amy’s fingers and shake it.

Hugo muttered something inaudible under his breath. ‘Stop that,’ I told him. ‘Amy reminds me of you.’

He snorted. ‘Rubbish. She’s far more like you than me.’

Amy glanced at us and we snapped our mouths closed like two guilty school kids. She pulled her hand back from Hester. ‘Can I assume from your complaint about spiders that you didn’t manage to find my necklace?’ She sounded resigned to our failure.

‘Don’t worry, we found it.’ I reached into my pocket and carefully withdrew the necklace, stood up and handed it over. ‘Here you go.’

To my astonishment, Amy’s eyes filled with tears. She bit her lip, obviously trying desperately to hold them back then she gave up and let them trickle down her cheeks. ‘Thank you,’ she gulped. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘The clasp is broken,’ I told her. ‘You should get it fixed before you wear it again.’

She sniffed loudly. ‘I will.’ Her fingers tightened around it and she gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I know it’s silly to react like this over such a simple object but it belonged to my gran. It was a present from her before she died.’

I offered her a gentle smile. ‘There’s nothing wrong with being attached to objects, especially when they remind us of the people we love.’

‘Thank you.’ She sniffed again and rubbed her eyes. ‘For a high elf, I guess you’re not so bad.’

‘See?’ Hugo said. ‘I’d never say anything like that. She’s definitely more like you than like me.’

My smile grew. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

Amy dropped her gaze and her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. ‘Unfortunately, I’m not sure that I managed to keep my side of the bargain,’ she said, guiltily. ‘I spoke to everyone I could think of about the Staffordshire Hoard but even the old biddies who’ve lived here all their lives had nothing to offer. I tried the church – the vicar likes to yap about the parish records and how wonderful they are. Apparently they date back to the sixteenth century, but he wouldn’t let me look at them and he said they only list births, deaths and marriages.’

I was impressed. Given the vague information we’d given her and the limited time she’d had, Amy had put considerable effort into the search. ‘Thanks for trying,’ I said. ‘It was always a long shot.’ My desire to find Athair’s supposed treasure had never been strong and it was diminishing by the second; we had far more important matters to deal with.

Amy wasn’t finished. ‘The only real lead I could come up with is the old witch’s cottage. You might find something there.’

I paused, genuinely surprised. ‘Go on.’

She looked awkward. ‘There’s not much to tell. It’s about half a mile that way,’ she waved a hand vaguely. ‘It’s been falling down for years but nobody’s done anything about it. Some people say it’s cursed and anyone who demolishes it will receive seven generations of bad luck. I don’t think that’s true, but nobody is willing to test the theory.’

I couldn’t suppress my interest and clearly Hugo felt the same. ‘Why do you think there might be something there?’ he asked.

‘I don’t,’ she said. ‘You’re the ones who seem to think there’s more gold to be found. Not me.’ We both waited. ‘But,’ she added reluctantly, ‘there are some interesting stories about the witch who lived there. You know how we didn’t treat witches very well back in the day?’

That was something of an understatement.

‘Well,’ Amy continued, ‘the old story goes that there was an old woman who lived there a few hundred years ago. Whether she was an actual witch or not, she was poor for most of her life and always struggled to make ends meet – until all of a sudden she started flashing the cash. She bought a bunch of stuff at the local market and started wearing nicer clothes. Nobody could work out where she got her money from. Her neighbours got jealous and started pointing fingers, saying that the devil had paid her to do bad things.’ Amy rolled her eyes. ‘The woman was tried as a witch and burned at the stake.’

‘There was never an explanation for where she got the money?’ I guessed.

‘Nope. She could just have nicked it from somewhere.’

‘Or she could have somehow found the Staffordshire Hoard and dug part of it up,’ Hugo said. ‘And she didn’t dig it all up because she was executed before that could happen.’

‘It’s a theory.’ Amy sounded doubtful. ‘But it could just be an old story that’s not remotely true. Sorry I couldn’t come up with anything better.’

I glanced at Hugo. ‘It’s plausible.’

‘It is.’ He looked closely at Amy. ‘You’re an elf.’

‘A low elf,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m not like you.’ That was exactly the sort of thing I used to say.

Hugo persisted. ‘But you’ve got some magic?’

She shuffled her feet. ‘A bit.’

I understood where he was going with this. ‘How’s your earth magic, Amy?’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘What do you mean?’

‘There’s a nifty trick that I can show you with earth magic,’ I told her. ‘It might help you when you go to the cottage to hunt for the hidden gold.’

‘Me?’ She stared at us. ‘Why would I do that?’

Hugo and I exchanged glances. ‘You’re smart and you can think on your feet,’ he said. ‘You also seem to have a talent for searching.’ He smiled faintly. ‘As long as there are no spiders to worry about.’

I nodded. ‘And we’ve got other places to be. You could take up the search for us. Anything you find will be yours.’

Amy crossed her arms and nibbled on her bottom lip before eventually shrugging. ‘Alright,’ she said. ’Tell me what I need to know.’