Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
W ithin two hours of being arrested Kit was woken by the cell door being unlocked. He’d been soundly asleep so was rather thick-headed when he swung his feet to the floor and came face-to-face with his father and mother. Ellen flung herself on to his shoulders and clung to him.
‘Where on earth have you been! My boy!’
His father looked sternly over his wife’s shoulder. ‘Three days we’ve been waiting to hear from you and there has been nothing. It’s an absolute embarrassment.’
‘Oh.’ The pressure of Ellen’s hand on his shoulder informed Kit that she was as taken aback as he was by Charles’s attitude.
‘I’m sorry, Father. I can explain,’ he said.
Charles walked out of the cell. He said nothing to Kit until the formalities had been completed and Kit was released. He reclaimed his possessions, reaching for the nuts first and putting them into his pocket, relieved that he still had them.
It was only when the car had made the long, difficult climb up Blue Bank from Sleights, and Charles’s hands eased on the steering wheel that he began to speak.
‘Your mother’s been worried frantic. With Adelaide’s illness, the last thing we needed was your selfish indulgence in traipsing off without telling anyone.’
‘I am sorry truly. We left in a hurry.’
‘We?’
‘Miss Dove and me. Do you remember her? Mr Wilde’s friend.’
‘This is intolerable,’ Charles railed. ‘Your fiancée is in a state of coma, and you are traipsing around the countryside with another woman! I suppose that gaudy trinket you had is for her?’
It did look bad, Kit had to admit.
‘She thought she might be able to help with Adelaide’s condition. She was a nurse,’ he lied. ‘How is Addie doing?’
Ellen spoke. ‘She woke once, but only briefly enough to take some broth. She’s slept ever since.’
‘Whatever it is, I fear it is spreading. The Times carried reports of similar cases throughout Europe,’ Charles said gruffly. ‘Did Miss Dove offer any solution?’
Kit smiled properly for the first time since coming back. ‘I believe she might have done. Mother, Father, I’m so sorry for not informing you. I didn’t have time.’ It occurred to him that Merelda might have been able to offer an explanation but had chosen not to, or perhaps his parents hadn’t even considered asking.
When they arrived home Kit ate his way through enough game pie, boiled potatoes, bread and butter and cold cuts to fill a man double his size. Curiously, even though he had eaten while he’d been away, his body didn’t feel as nourished as he might have expected. He resolved that when he returned, he would pack a hamper full of provisions. He and Adelaide might want their own food for the next day or two, and of course, Valentine loved ginger biscuits.
He went to his apartment. While he ran a bath he rummaged in his bureau among the assorted pens, bottles of ink, and other detritus until he found the box containing his Military Cross. He weighed it in his hand. It was lighter than something that weighed so heavily on his mind should be. He took the walnuts out of his pocket and lined them up on the table beside the box. He leaned close to them and sniffed, hoping to catch a hint of the scent from Valentine’s hand. There was the slightest trace of mimosa, but it was too faint for his liking. Now he knew she was on the other side of whatever boundary it was that he’d crossed, the gulf felt wider than the channel and the longing in his heart was physically painful.
He climbed into the bath and lay back to soak away the days of accumulated dirt. He closed his eyes, wondering what she was doing. He didn’t mean to sleep, but woke as a mouthful of water brought him coughing back to consciousness. Drowning would do no good for anyone, though his father might be glad to see the back of him.
After dinner he paid a visit to Doctor Smith. News of his absence had reached that far, and the doctor subjected him to a series of questions regarding his absence, which Kit evaded and half answered as best he could, thinking wryly that he’d learned something from the fae after all.
‘I fell in with some people who may have the answer to the problem of the sleeping,’ he explained.
‘Really?’ Doctor Smith beamed. ‘Come into my study. I’ll get us both a sherry and you can tell me everything.’
While the doctor poured two delightfully large measures, he explained that more cases were being reported.
‘Human nature is such that once one person talks of a thing, others feel emboldened to share their tales. I am sure there are even more cases in far-flung countries that have yet to come to light. If your friends have indeed found a cure, then I hope they will be able to put it into production very soon. These things can take a long time to manufacture.’
‘It’s not a medicine, I’m afraid.’ Kit sat back and sipped the sherry.
‘What then?’
Kit smiled. ‘I don’t think you would believe me if I told you. You would think I’m quite mad.’
‘Or perhaps you would think me mad if I did,’ the doctor answered, raising a brow. ‘As I say, some things are not talked about until others raise the subject. I’ll try keep an open mind.’
Whether or not Doctor Smith was merely speculating or genuinely knew something, he was, apart from Merelda, the only person who had shown any interest in solving the problem. Kit thought he was close to admitting to knowing something of the fae world.
‘I travelled somewhere that I did not believe existed at first,’ he said cautiously.
‘I thought so.’ Doctor Smith smiled. ‘You have a look of the Changed about you.’
‘I need your help,’ Kit explained. ‘I need a very sharp blade such as a scalpel. Would you have something like that?’
‘Naturally.’ Doctor Smith looked at him with open suspicion, perhaps wondering if Kit was intending to slit his throat.
‘I need to open something and be able to seal it again. I can’t think of anything at home that would do the job. I thought a doctor would probably have equipment.’ He reached into his pocket for a walnut and held it out.
‘I suppose there’s no point me asking why,’ Doctor Smith asked, clearly fishing for the answer.
‘I need to hide part of my medal in it,’ Kit confessed. ‘Then I need to seal it again, probably with wax, and if you have any strong-smelling ointment, I could use some of that too.’
The doctor looked at him over steepled fingers. ‘I was right. You’ve been Touched. I’ve listened to a lot of interesting stories over the years, and I have never been sure whether I was a believer or not, but it appears that I am. Come on through into the surgery and you can show me what you intend to do.’
With the aid of the sharp scalpel, the walnut split fairly easily into halves. Kit gathered the meat in a handkerchief and put it back in his pocket.
‘I’ll need that later.’
He took out the medal and reached for the small hammer and chisel Doctor Smith had provided, the usual use of which Kit preferred not to dwell on. He balanced the medal on the operating table.
‘I need iron chips.’
He handed the doctor the chisel. ‘Do you want to do it? I think that if one of us has to hold it steady and run the risk of losing fingers, that should be me. I don’t have as much use for them as you do.’
‘Very well.’ Doctor Smith weighed the hammer in his hand, positioned the chisel and brought it down. A splinter of the medal cracked off. It was about fingernail-sized. Big enough to tip an arrow.
Kit gave a triumphant cry. ‘Give me another just to be on the safe side. Actually, let’s try for three. Three is an important number.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes.’ Kit shook his head with a laugh. ‘I imagine if I was the third son I would find this all so much easier, of course. It’s a shame Miss Dove didn’t set her sights on Fred.’
‘Would you like me to prescribe you a tonic?’ the doctor asked, raising his wiry eyebrows.
‘I’m not sure that would really help. I’m not mad, you know,’ Kit said hastily.
‘No, I don’t believe you are. There are things, Horatio in this world, et cetera.’
Kit grinned. ‘I think perhaps A Midsummer Night’s Dream is more appropriate. Now let’s get to work. I need two more chips and then I need to melt a candle.’
Ten minutes later, the job was done. Kit had wrapped the three shards of iron in a strip of bandage that had been dipped in mead. He’d added a few smelling salts and sealed it all inside the shell with candle wax.
Dr Smith led him to the door.
‘I hope to see you again. How will I know if it works?’
‘You’ll know I’ve been successful when they start to wake up. If for any reason I don’t come back…’
He faltered, thinking of the enormity of the task ahead of him. To walk into a vindictive monster’s castle and try shoot him. ‘If I don’t return, please tell my father I’m sorry.’
* * *
Merelda was drinking cocktails with Sybil, Ellen and Sarah in his parents’ sitting room. Alfred was lounging in a chair doing a jigsaw puzzle. Merelda gave Kit an excited wave.
‘How lovely to see you again. Is everything well? I hear you’ve been travelling. Oh, the things you must have seen.’
‘Wandering around Whitby and getting arrested?’ Alfred scoffed. ‘He saw the inside of a cell, I know that much.’
Kit ignored him.
‘I’m finding a solution to all this. Mother, I need to go away for a couple of days again. Or maybe not a couple of days, I’m not quite sure. I’m going to take the Vauxhall if you don’t mind.’
‘Now? But dinner will be served in just over an hour. Where are you going?’ Ellen asked.
The scent of curried lamb wafted through from the kitchen. Kit inhaled, his mouth starting to water. He was tempted to wait until he’d eaten before departing, but it would be too easy to find reasons to delay.
‘I just have to take something to a friend.’
Ellen wrapped her arms around him. ‘Kit, I’m worried about you. Your father thinks your mind is unbalanced. He wants you to speak to a doctor. You’ve never been right since you came back from the war.’
Kit straightened up. ‘I feel better than I have for months.’
‘Your father won’t like it.’
‘He’ll have to just put up with that,’ Kit replied briskly. He pecked his mother on the cheek and did the same to his aunt and grandmother. He walked around the table and took Merelda by her hand. The papery skin of her wrist sagged in his.
‘Everything is moving,’ he replied. ‘I hope to have good news soon. I don’t suppose Enid has any more mead, does she?’
Merelda beamed. ‘Oh, yes! You have been learning. I’ll go and ask her to bring some.’
She walked out, cane tapping on the floor.
‘I’m going to go see Adelaide before I leave,’ Kit announced, and left the room before anyone voiced an objection.
He entered Adelaide’s bedroom with slight trepidation given the coolness between them but told himself not to be silly. He wasn’t annoyed with this version of Adelaide and she didn’t find him abhorrent.
She was lying in her bed, but dressed in a different nightgown to the one he’d seen before. Her hair was covered in a boudoir cap and she looked healthy. She was the age she should be, and her stomach was as flat as ever. Kit wasn’t an expert but she didn’t look as if she had recently given birth. Valentine had told him that was only in the other world, and it appeared so. He frowned. It would be a complication, when she returned home with a child. They’d have to concoct a story about the baby being abandoned and needing adopting.
On her bedside table was a carafe of water. Kit sat on the edge of the bed and wetted the sponge. He put it to her lips, wondering if he should try mead, but why complicate matters now?
‘Hello, Addie. I don’t know if you can hear me where you are, but I’m coming back now. Tell Silas I’ve got what he needs, and if I’ve planned well, I’ll be able to bring it through. I’ll see you soon.’
He didn’t expect a response and of course there wasn’t one. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, feeling a brotherly surge of affection.
He thought more carefully about his clothing this time and dressed in an old pair of walking boots rather than his brogues. He raided the pantry for two packets of ginger biscuits, a bag of apples and a small packet of tea, as well as sundry other things. His first days eating only berries with a hungry belly wasn’t something he wanted to repeat.
Merelda and Enid were waiting for him by the door to the hall. Merelda took his hand and drew him close.
‘Everybody tells me I’m away with the fairies but only you know they were all correct.’
‘Have you ever heard of someone called Caul Gilling?’ Kit asked.
Merelda dropped her face into her hands with a sob that pretty much answered the question. Enid hugged her and glared at Kit.
‘That’s a name we don’t speak and neither should you.’
Kit nodded, glad to have some suspicions confirmed. ‘He’s the reason everybody is falling asleep. I don’t know if killing him will break the curse on Merelda, but I’ll do my best to break it.’
‘Thank you.’ Tears sprung to Merelda’s old eyes.
Another thought crossed his mind. Silas had spent time talking to Merelda on the night the whole affair had begun. Was it possible that Merelda was the half-human-half-fae’s mother?
Enid gave Kit a small bottle of mead. He put it in his inner pocket, checking the walnuts were there while he did so. He had three but one of them was surplus to requirements, so he gave it to Enid.
‘Will you keep this safe for me? There may be a circumstance when it’s needed.’
Enid closed her palm over it. ‘I’m guessing we had better not put that with the Christmas nuts.’
Kit grinned. ‘No. The last thing we want over carols is anyone unwittingly opening a portal to the Faedemesne.’
At night, the journey back to Whitby met with no traffic. He parked the car on the clifftop in front of the long rows of Regency houses. He’d heard once that Lewis Carroll had stayed in one and wondered whether the tales of Alice were based purely on imagination or whether the author had experienced something like he had. From now on, whenever he read anything with a touch of fancy to it, no doubt he would wonder the same thing.
He dozed in the car and woke at the first brimming of dawn over the sea. He had no idea whether he would emerge through the same gateway when he next returned, so he locked the car, put the keys in an envelope and wrote the telephone number of Meadwell Hall on the front, then posted it through the nearest door. He walked to the whalebone archway and pulled out the undoctored walnut, wondering whether he was wise to have left one with Enid, after all. If something went wrong and he was unable to get back through, he’d have to somehow get the keys back from the house, drive home and do the whole thing again.
He felt the nut containing the iron chips deep in his pocket, nestling next to the velvet bag and bracelet and whispered a quick prayer to any gods or supernatural influences who may be listening that his plan would work.
He cracked the walnut with the nutcrackers he had purloined from the dining room before leaving the house. The shell split into three, but the meat came out whole. He wished he had paid more attention now to what Valentine had done back in the gardens on their first journey, but back then he hadn’t really believed it would work. He ground the meat between his hands, feeling the oil spurt across his palms as he crushed it. He closed his eyes then fixed them on the palm of his hand and opened them.
There was a glimmering of luminescent light. He raised his hands to his lips, drew in a breath and blew hard towards the whalebone archway. The fragments of nut pooled up, caught by a gust of wind far greater than the one he had blown, but nothing happened at first. He counted five faltering heartbeats and without any sort of fanfare, the colour of the dawn between the bones took on a slightly different shade to the horizon surrounding it. The waves on the sea inside were surging to the right not the left. A black-backed gull flew into his peripheral vision from the direction of the town but as it passed behind the whalebones it did not reappear.
Kit laughed aloud, not caring whether any lurking police constable might hear. It had worked. He had performed real, actual magic. But he had no way of knowing for how long! He strode towards the bones with a confidence that felt so unfamiliar it was like a stranger to him. He knew for certain it had worked when warm sunshine hit his face, but as he stepped onwards, his entire body grew heavier and his feet became hard to lift. It didn’t make any sense; the journey to England had been easy so there was no good reason why the return should be so arduous.
He was smothered in a feeling of dread that he’d inadvertently been caught in a snicklegate and time would pass slowly for him. He’d arrive in the Faedemesne to discover that years had passed. The land would be ruined, Adelaide and Silas would have a dozen children and barely remember him and Valentine would still be in servitude to Caul Gilling. He couldn’t let that happen. Redoubling his efforts, feeling he was dragging each foot from quicksand, he pressed onwards. He thrust his hands into his pockets and felt the nut with its contraband and everything became clear. That was the reason. He was trying to bring something across that should never be brought.
His fingers closed around the velvet pouch which held Valentine’s bracelet. Her face rose in his mind. The glowing smile and look of delight as they’d kissed, and the look of disappointment she would bear if he arrived without the iron. He tightened the pouch in his fist.
‘I’m coming back,’ he shouted. ‘Just wait for me.’
With her face floating in his mind, he began to sing the song they had sung on the way across the mountain. Three verses in, he tripped and tumbled forward landing on his knees. His hands were still in his pockets and he ended up in a heap face down before he could get them out to brace himself.
There was a laugh behind him, and when he turned his head, Valentin was sitting cross-legged on a rock.
‘That was elegant,’ He remarked, jumping down and coming to help Kit stand up. ‘I thought you’d never come back.’
‘How long was I gone?’ Kit asked.
He looked at Kit solemnly. ‘Six years, and I waited every day.’