The Return of the Witch (25 page)

“I have set her dreaming for a little while,” Tegan whispered to me as Aloysius scuttled up to sit on her shoulder. “She will awake wonderfully refreshed. As will the two soldiers who were guarding the door at the back of the house.”

I noticed the army cook, his head on his arms on the kitchen table, snoring loudly. “And him?”

“Oh no, he's just drunk,” she said, smiling.

It was so marvelous to see her restored to her free self once more, and to see her so alive with magic! Those signs about her I had noticed upon my return from the Summerlands, the power I had glimpsed as I removed Gideon's enchantment, now they made sense to me. On this point at least Gideon had been correct; Tegan was no longer the apprentice witch of five years ago. She was something altogether different.

Leaving the lamp behind, the three of us hurried out of the house and crept under the cloak of darkness away from the garden and the soldiers' encampment. When we were at a safe-enough distance to speak properly, Tegan explained that Erasmus was waiting for us at the edge of the woods. They had been able to obtain only two riding horses, and both of those were thanks to Keanes, who had put himself at no small risk to get them for us. We would have to ride two to a horse, and were to make for the Welsh border. Erasmus had a friend there who could be trusted to take us in.

It was heartening to see my trusty Time Stepper again. If he had suffered any lasting effects from his struggle with Gideon, they were not visible. He sat upon the horse I recognized as the one Keanes had appeared on only a day before. A single day! So much had happened, so much had changed. He held the reins of a second horse, black and skinny, possibly taken from the army pony lines. The animal itself was reason enough to see Keanes hanged as a horse thief if he were caught, which explained why he was nowhere to be seen. We were out of breath by the time we reached Erasmus.

“Were you seen? Has the alarm yet been raised?” he asked.

Tegan shook her head. “We have little time, though.”

William said, “No one will think to check the cellar until morning.”

Tegan turned to him, her expression serious. “I am not worried about the soldiers,” she said.

“Gideon.” I understood. “He will come after us. He will have felt your use of magic.”

“Hurry,” Erasmus said as he threw the reins of the second horse to William, who quickly mounted it. He then held out his hand to me. I took it, and swung up onto the saddle behind him. William's horse fidgeted unhelpfully, and before Tegan could get on there was a subtle thickening of the darkness behind us. We all turned toward it, unable to do otherwise, and watched as Gideon emerged from the trees. He was on foot, and walked slowly as if, for all the world, there was not a single thing to worry him, not a single reason to make haste. Once again he had succeeded in moving about without being detected, and was able to know where we would be almost before we arrived. It seemed an impossible task to outrun him.

I began to dismount, but Tegan signaled for me to stop. She stepped forward, firmly placing herself between Gideon and the rest of us. Having no light save for the young moon above us, it was only then that we saw Gideon was carrying a pistol. Tegan stood unafraid and calm, and I became aware of a high note of magic coming from her, like the sound of a distant tuning fork being struck. Again she seemed to glow of her own accord, and I was astonished to see she was levitating, her feet now several inches above the grassy ground. Gideon had eyes only for her, and no wonder! There was such a power contained within her that it must have been obvious to all present, even William, whose knowledge and experience of such things was next to nought. I had my arm tight around Erasmus's waist, and I felt his sharp intake of breath as he, too, recognized the magnitude of force that Tegan had become. This was no novice witch. At last, Gideon's single-minded desire for her, his relentless pursuit of her, became clear to me. She was not, as I had first thought, a way to get to me. Nor was she a pawn in some vindictive game of vengeance. He wanted Tegan for herself, for the astounding witch she had evidently become.

She pointed at the gun Gideon held. “A pistol, Gideon? Not your usual style.”

“I like to make use of whatever circumstances send my way.”

“Are you so unsure of the potency of your own magic now?” she asked him. All the time I could sense her strength growing, building up to something. If I had been Gideon, I believe I would have been afraid of her.

But Gideon, as always, knew better than to put himself at risk. “Tegan, you must know me well enough to know I suffer no such concerns or doubts about my own abilities. That does not, however, mean I would underestimate yours. You are a formidable spellcaster now, and a worthy opponent.”

“Flatterer.”

“Trust me, the compliment was sincerely meant.”

“A snake like you has forfeited any right to trust,” she told him. “And you don't have a scrap of sincerity in your entire, rotten soul.”

“You have such a low opinion of me, Tegan. We will have to change that. But first, I would rather not submit myself to possible assault from Bess's pet Time Stepper and his nasty little knives. Why should I trouble myself with dealing with him when I have a whole army at my disposal?” He had barely finished his sentence when he raised his gun in the air and pulled the trigger. He had not aimed at any of us, so that our reflex to defend ourselves and deflect his attack was not prompted. Instead, for a moment we were all baffled as to the point of what he had done. It was William who saw the practical application of his action.

“Cromwell's men! The soldiers will have heard the gunshot. It will rouse the camp. It will bring them running.”

He was right, of course. Gideon had known precisely what he was doing.

“I fear they will not look kindly upon a suspected traitor and his witch who are trying to evade justice, nor upon any who choose to assist them in doing so.”

What happened next occurred with such speed that I still have no clear recollection of the order of events or, indeed, of what did take place. One minute we were there, the five of us, listening to Gideon's weasel words, ready for him to make some manner of threatening move toward Tegan. The next, a searing flash of light, a swallowing up, it seemed, of air, of sound, of thought, of everything, and then perfect stillness, the dark returned. Nothing had happened, and yet everything had been affected. Our horses snorted in alarm. Erasmus tightened his hold on the reins. William wheeled his mount about, searching, bewildered. Tegan and Gideon were gone.

“But…” William shook his head. “… What has happened? What has that devil brought about?”

Erasmus's voice was tense with fury. “He has Stepped,” he said.

“What? No!” I did not want to believe what I was being told. “Surely that is impossible.”

“It seems not. Not for Mister Grimsteeds or should I say, Masters.”

“But, you said it would be incredibly dangerous if the person being taken was ill, or not of sound mind, or coerced..”

“And so it is.”

“Then surely you are mistaken!”

“Elizabeth, I know what I saw! For pity's sake, woman, how could I not?”

There was no time to agonize further over what had been done, not then, for we could hear shouts and horses coming from the direction of the Hall.

“They will be upon us!” William compelled his dancing horse to move closer to me. He spoke urgently. “Bess, you must go. Have Erasmus take you to his place of safety. There is still time.”

“There is not, William. We must stand together.”

“No. It is dark, those men are like hounds; they will chase the hare that runs beneath their noses and not look for more elusive prey.” He hesitated, and the look he gave me tore at my heart. “I shan't let you down again, Bess. Not this time.” Without allowing me time to respond, he spun his horse around. “Get her away, Erasmus!” he shouted over his shoulder. “See that she lives!” And with that he urged his mount on, whipping the reins against its neck, sending it plunging forward across the gloom-covered ground, uttering loud cries as he did so.

His tactics were horribly successful. The figures that came riding over the brow of the hill, some carrying guttering torches, spied William and gave chase. It was impossible for him to escape, but he rode at breakneck speed in order to give us the best advantage.

Erasmus coaxed our horse into a canter in the opposite direction.

“We can't leave him!” I wailed.

“We must hurry. He will not evade them for long,” Erasmus said.

“They will hang him! He will die!”

“Then let us not squander the precious time he has bequeathed us.”

I felt tears spilling down my face. I held tight to Erasmus, leaning close into his body so that the horse could more easily carry us. My heart was breaking for William, and was in turmoil for Tegan. I had let her slip through my fingers again! Even her own magnificent magic had not kept her safe. Gideon had acted with such unexpected speed, and in a manner none of us could have foreseen. From what Erasmus had told me she was in terrible danger Time Stepping unprepared and unwilling. And even if she did survive, where would he take her next? Would we be able to follow?

We rode on, away from the edge of the woods, across the meadows, down past the ruin of my family home, and on to Batchcombe Point, the very southernmost tip of the corner of Dorset where I had known so many tragedies. Erasmus slowed the horse to a walk, and ultimately we halted atop the cliffs. He jumped from the tired animal's back and helped me down from the saddle. The horse's flanks heaved from the exertion and steam rose from its sleek body into the cool night air. Already the darkness was beginning to thin, and a soft summer dawn was breaking. I walked away from Erasmus, not wishing him to witness my distress. I knew he had done what he had to do in following William's instructions, but still I wished with all my heart that there might have been some other course, some other way.

Standing at the cliff's edge, I could hear the gentle waves caressing the tiny pebbles of the beach below. The sea was a glossy darkness, awaiting the warmth and brightness of the sun to bring it to sparkling life. I had stood here before in desperate circumstances, when my world had seemed to be breaking about me into a thousand tiny pieces which could never be retrieved, never be picked up and put back together again. All had seemed lost and impossible then, and yet I had survived. I had gone on to live, to fulfill my destiny as a witch and a healer, to know love, and to find Tegan. I could not give up now. There would be a way forward. I would find it. I would take it. If I did not, William's sacrifice had been in vain.

Erasmus had come to stand beside me. He did not reach out a hand, nor try to find soothing words for me, and I was glad of it. The quiet strength of his presence was comfort enough. He looked out over the slumbering ocean and waited for me to voice what he knew I must be thinking.

At last I said, “Can you do it? Can you find where they have gone?”

He nodded.

“And can we then follow?”

“I would be a poor Stepper if we could not.”

I took a breath, drawing the warmth of the sunrise into my very soul. I nodded then. “Very well,” I said firmly. “Let us begin.”

 

PART THREE

 

18

LONDON 1851

I was reluctant to rouse myself from such a delicious sleep. As I began to wake, a seductive drowsiness blurred my senses, tempting me back to the soft embrace of slumber. And yet I wanted to wake up. I knew that I must, for beneath the easy lulling of the darkness lay an undertow of urgency. A barely suppressed panic. There was something that needed to be done. There was someone who needed me. Though my eyes remained closed, there danced before me a luminous phantasmagoria. Figures twirled and spun, their faces indistinct, their identities hidden. Such a mix of colors, a muddle of clothing and physiques. Were they people I knew? Were they real, or merely phantoms conjured by a confused mind? Where was it I should go? Who was it who needed me? I became aware of someone saying my name. The voice was calm but bright, and gently insistent.

“Elizabeth? Elizabeth? Can you hear me?” he asked, and I felt my hand held, cupped in warm palms.

At last I opened my eyes. There followed a few seconds of dizziness, and then a familiar face came into focus. Erasmus peered at me with concern, but the moment he saw me wake, his features arranged themselves into their more customary cheerful expression. When I tried to speak, he shushed me and put a glass of water to my lips. I drank greedily, becoming aware of a fierce thirst.

“Just a little, Elizabeth,” he cautioned. “After such a very big Step it is advisable to take only tiny sips for a while.” He put down the glass but his left hand kept hold of mine. It was a comforting connection. No, somehow it was more than that, I realized. And that realization made me self-conscious, so that I withdrew my hand and made the effort to sit more upright on the red velvet chaise.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Home. That is, my home. We are in London.”

He made a broad sweep of his arm to indicate the room, and what a room it was! It had the large proportions of an early Victorian house, with a high ceiling and two long brocade-draped windows through which streamed sunshine. Despite the generous size of the space, it did not feel overly large, as every inch of it was taken. There were two more velvet settees, with extra cushions and tartan rugs over the arms, several overstuffed and worn leather chairs placed so as to take advantage of the daylight, and a broad desk between the windows, piled high with papers and ink pots and blotters and such, with a chair pulled up to it. The floorboards were covered with a threadbare but beautiful Persian rug, and there hung from the ceiling two impressive brass lanterns. But, by far and away, the most striking feature of the whole room was the number and variety of the books it housed. This was a veritable library. Shelves lined three of the walls from floor to ceiling, with barely any available space on any. Small tables groaned beneath the weight of more leather-bound tomes, and there were two glass-fronted cabinets housing further volumes. The very particular aroma of books, of paper, of leather, of
words
, permeated the room.