Castle of Shadows (19 page)

‘Technically, Tobias, it’s you who are the bastard,’ said Windlass. ‘And name-calling is the last resort of the feeble-minded. I should hate to think that any son of mine was feeble-minded.’

‘Son?’ gasped Charlie. She dropped the candle, and it guttered out instantly. ‘Tobias is your
son
?’

‘Hasn’t he told you that interesting fact? Sometimes I fear he’s ashamed of me. Yes. My son. Although technically illegitima— Tobias! Do stand still. I may not know you very well, but I am your father. I should hate to be forced to shoot you. As you’re halfway down the stairs, you might as well come the rest of the way. But be careful, Tobias.’ Windlass stepped back towards the door. He turned the pistol on Tobias and kept it pointed at his chest as the boy climbed slowly down the stairs.

Charlie’s knees turned to soggy cardboard. She clamped her hands onto the banister. Her knuckles turned white as she watched Tobias edge past Windlass and back away from him down the hall.

‘That’s far enough, Tobias! Do not move from there. I share your disappointment, Your Highness.’ Windlass’s eyes flicked up to Charlie before returning to Tobias. The pistol pointing at him never wavered. ‘I too hoped to find
the Queen tonight. But never mind. As Tobias said, she will be in touch.’

‘How did you find us here?’ Charlie tried to sound calm. ‘Have you been following us ever since last night?’

‘I employ people to do that sort of thing,’ Windlass said shortly. ‘I’ve had a man watching Tobias’s secret door in the Castle wall since the night of the ambush. Once the Resistance had Bettina, I knew it would not be long before you went in search of your mother. And I trusted that Tobias would be gentlemanly enough to offer to accompany you.’

Tobias caught her eye. His face was stricken.

‘One of my men,’ continued the Prime Minister, ‘is outside this house. His job, Tobias, is to make sure that you don’t attempt to follow the Princess and myself back to the Castle.’

Charlie froze.

‘What?’ shouted Tobias. ‘You leave her alone!’

‘You’re not in any position to give orders, Tobias. Set one foot inside the Castle walls and I shall have you arrested and transported to a penal colony on the other side of the world. It would distress me, but I will do it. Your mother, I fear, would be severely traumatised by your loss. If you’re tempted to embark on heroics I suggest you think of her. The Princess is in no danger. Particularly now that you’ve exposed Mrs O’Dair’s duplicity.

‘You should really have come to me when you realised
she was a threat,’ he said to Charlie. ‘Never mind. I shall deal with her in due course.’

‘I’m not going anywhere with you!’ Charlie clutched the handrail even harder.

‘Don’t be childish. You have no choice. And you’ll be safer with me than you appear to have been for some time.’

‘And my father?’

‘Ah.’ Windlass frowned. ‘I’m sorry. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. The fact that I’m so close to locating your mother makes it urgent, I’m afraid. Which means I need you, Charlie. You have become essential.’

Nell was right: he meant to kill her father. He had doubtless intended it from the moment she visited him in his office and presented him with a more convenient puppet. She stared at him in horror. But the only thing she could think to say was: ‘
Don’t call me Charlie!
’

Windlass shrugged. ‘Come here, Your Highness. I have a carriage waiting outside. Now!’

There was nowhere to run. But he would have to drag her away, screaming and kicking! She shook her head. ‘No!’

‘Leave her be!’ roared Tobias, lurching forward.

Charlie heard a soft click as the Prime Minister cocked the pistol. It was pointed at Tobias’s head. The boy froze. The blood drained from his face.

‘Don’t move, Tobias. Your life depends upon it. And if you, ma’am, do not come down those stairs at once,
I shall pull the trigger.’ The Prime Minister’s voice was arctic.

‘D-don’t do it, Charlie!’ stammered Tobias. ‘He’s fooling.’ But Tobias’s face was whiter than Windlass’s silk handkerchief, and Charlie had already arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

Windlass reached out his free arm and swept her to his side. He pulled her backwards. The door opened. A man stepped to one side as they backed out. His face was a blur beneath a flat cap. Windlass carried her the few steps to the street and lifted her inside the waiting carriage. He pushed her onto one seat and sat opposite. The pistol had disappeared, but his right hand remained in his overcoat pocket.

‘Drive on,’ he called. The carriage lurched forward. The sound of the horse’s hooves echoed through the darkness as it trotted briskly over the cobbles. A young horse, no doubt, which would carry them to the Castle quickly. Charlie’s hands clenched the leather seat either side of her. She couldn’t take her eyes from Windlass’s face. It was smooth, expressionless. A scream pushed up her throat. To stop it, she spoke one of the questions scouring her brain.

‘If Tobias is your son, why is he working as a gardener’s boy?’ For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then Windlass shrugged.

‘I married Tobias’s mother when I was very young. Barely more than a boy. Oh yes,’ he said, noticing her
frown, ‘we were legally married. But shortly before the birth of our son a singular opportunity came my way. I’m an ambitious man. You may have noticed.’ He grinned, and it was Tobias’s grin. It shocked her.

‘I was fond of Rose, but I was fonder of advancement. She wasn’t the sort of wife who would have helped me to rise in the world. So I left her. Later, when I was in a position to do so, I destroyed all record of the marriage. Hence Tobias’s illegitimate status.’ Windlass paused. Frowned. ‘In other circumstances I would have enjoyed his company. But that has not been possible. I did, in an effort to look after them both, find Rose employment as a seamstress, even encourage her to remarry. That was not successful. Mr Petch met an early end in the canals. A quarrel over ill-gotten gains, I understand. He was not missed. He used to beat them both. I fear Tobias blames me.’

‘And do you think yourself blameless?’ Charlie asked in amazement.

‘I don’t think in terms of blame at all, child. You should know that by now.’

‘And my mother? Tell me the truth! She ran away from you, didn’t she?’

‘Your mother is one of the great scientists of our age. I had set her to work on vital research when she stumbled across something unexpected. Something with the potential to change the course of history.

‘Many scientific breakthroughs come about by
accident, I believe. Of course, she told me about her discovery. She saw the implications at once. She was horrified by the sheer destructive potential. Your mother has a delicacy of conscience which is perhaps not suited to the application of science. I argued against her scruples, explained the political realities. She must have sensed my determination. She fled. Your father, I’m afraid, never really recovered. He is a charming man…but weak.’

‘You’re drugging him!’ Charlie shouted.

Windlass shook his head. She saw pity in his eyes, and it made her want to scream. ‘Only recently. He began showing an interest in things other than his castles. I asked Mrs O’Dair to keep him pacified. A harmless drug. He hasn’t suffered. He will have a quick end. I promise you that. As quick and painless as possible. And now, we have arrived.’

The carriage lurched to a stop. The driver grunted as he jumped to the ground. The door opened. Windlass climbed out and motioned her to follow. She didn’t move.

‘If you do not climb down at once I shall instruct my man to carry you inside.’ His voice was bored. ‘Which is it to be?’

She climbed down. A white moth fluttered against her face and melted. Then another. Snow whirled out of the darkness. The dome of light at the entrance to the ministerial wing became a child’s toy: a blizzard trapped in a glass globe. The guards’ hut was empty. He had
dismissed them. There was not to be even the slightest chance of help for her.

The Prime Minister hugged her to his side, shielding her from the snow, and strode into the Castle. He did not slow down or let go until he opened the door to his office and pushed her inside.

She heard the click of the key in the lock. She waited in the dark, her mind darting to and fro in a white blankness, as he lit one of the gas lamps. She looked for a weapon. Something to hit him with. There were only files and portfolios. She ran to a chair and tried to lift it, but it was too heavy.

Charlie looked up to see Windlass watching her. His mouth was twisted into half a smile. He looked tired, and his eyes were sad.

‘Don’t do this, please,’ she begged. ‘Why kill him? You have everything! You already rule Quale! Let him live. I’ll take him away somewhere. You needn’t see either of us ever again. Be king! I don’t care! But please don’t kill my father!’

‘The Esceanian threat must be dealt with, Charlie. I will use whatever means are required. As things stand, it is only a matter of time before they invade. Months. A year at the most. Once their spies find out that our stockpiles of gunpowder are nearly depleted and that all my promises of a new weapon have been lies, the Emperor will invade. Do you really think that he would let your father live? Or you?’

Windlass sighed. He ran his hand across his eyes. A lock of hair fell onto his forehead, making him look younger, wistful. ‘I haven’t time to explain. I doubt if you would be willing to listen. But Quale is only a part of this. There is much more at stake…so much more. I am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. Or the King, if you can believe that. But this is more important than you can imagine. I have no choice.’

‘I’ll tell!’ Charlie cried. ‘If you kill my father I’ll tell! I won’t be your puppet!’

‘I no longer need a puppet, Charlie. You have found your mother for me, for which I am extremely grateful. Now that I know she is in the country; that she is using Mrs Goodenough for her contact, it will not take my men long to track her down.

‘I had nearly given up hope. There were tantalising traces of her discovery in the papers she left behind, but not enough for my scientists to duplicate her work. Once I have you both safe, she will cooperate.

‘I must go now and find some of your father’s old notepaper in the library with which to forge his suicide note. He must be dead before the servants are up, which gives me only a few hours. Half the Kingdom believes he murdered the Queen; they will be easily convinced that he killed himself from a combination of remorse and an unbalanced mind.’

He looked at her, and his eyes were blue ice. ‘Now, go into the cloakroom, please. I’m going to lock you in.
You’ll be safe here from Mrs O’Dair.’

She turned and ran, but in two steps he had caught her, grabbing her by the shoulders. She twisted, kicked, tried to bite, desperate to stop him, to hurt him. He dragged her to the cloakroom and threw her inside. She crashed into the opposite wall and slid across the wooden seat of the thunderbox, stunned. The door slammed shut and darkness swallowed her. She heard the lock click. She heard him walk across the room. The second door closed.

Charlie screamed. She screamed and screamed until her voice shrivelled to a croak. The dark grabbed her by the throat and squeezed. She knew she was about to die, like her father. She staggered to her feet. Her heart hammered even harder, and she thought she might faint. She felt her way to the sink, fumbled the cold tap on and plunged her head beneath the freezing spray. Gradually her heart slowed. She stopped gasping for air. Her brain began to work.

She stumbled to the door and felt for the lock. Her hand found the buttonhook in her trouser pocket. Tobias had made it look easy. She found the keyhole with her finger, poked the hook into it, jiggled, twisted, levered from side to side. Nothing. Her fingers were wet with water and sweat. The handle slipped. She heard the ping as the hook hit the wooden floor and bounced. She used a word even Tobias had never heard, lowered her shaking hand and felt the floor with fingers soft as spiders’ feet,
fearful of knocking it out of reach. She gave a sob as she touched it. In a moment it was back inside the lock. She listened with her fingers, tried not to think of the time it was taking…

CLICK
. Loud as a lighting bolt cracking the sky, she heard it. Turned the knob with disbelieving fingers and was blinded by gaslight.

The second door was easy. Her fingers had the hang of it now, and her eyes were able to help. She tore up the stairs, raced through the west wing and into the south, along the corridor towards her father’s bedroom. She had never run so fast.

Moonlight poured in at the windows; it must have stopped snowing. The thick carpet swallowed the sound of her feet. She grabbed his door knob, flung his door open, ran to the bed and pulled back the heavy hangings. The bed was empty. Her father was gone.

The air shifted as the door to her father’s dressing room breathed open. Charlie heard the creak of whalebone, the rustle of bombazine.

Mrs O’Dair’s face was a pale oval above the black pyramid of her body. The pistol in her hand winked in the moonlight. Charlie heard a hiss of delight.

‘You!’ the housekeeper breathed. ‘I expected Windlass, but this is even better! All of this is your fault, you ugly little brat! If it weren’t for you, things would have continued as usual. Two more years and your mother would have been declared dead. Then your father could remarry.’

Charlie felt sick. ‘My father would never marry you!’

‘Your father does whatever I tell him! I look after him!

No one else does! No one cares for him but me. I shall be Queen, instead of that insipid bluestocking mother of yours. She never loved him!’

‘Liar!’

O’Dair lunged forward and grabbed Charlie’s arm. Her face floated in front of Charlie, the eyes dark holes. The smell of oil of cloves and mothballs pressed into her nose. The pistol pressed against her chest. She tried to pull away, but O’Dair’s hand might have been made of stone.

‘You are going to pay for the trouble you have caused me.’ O’Dair’s breath scoured her face. ‘This is Watch’s
pistol. It should have put an end to you weeks ago! I shall enjoy killing you with it. But not yet. I need you for a little while yet.’

‘Where’s my father?’

‘Safe. Out of Windlass’s way.’

‘Where?’

‘The dungeons, brat! Where I’ll dump your body. The rats can have you!’

The housekeeper tucked the gun in the reticule dangling from her waist and moved towards the door, pulling Charlie after her like a steamship towing a rowboat. ‘Poor Ancel,’ O’Dair sighed. ‘I have kept him like a blackbird in a cage for five years now. I knew I would have to kill him in the end, but I hoped it would not be for a while yet.’

Shock stopped Charlie twisting and beating at the hand fastened around her wrist. O’Dair surged on – out the door, down the corridor, towards the servants’ stair, dragging a stumbling Charlie behind her. ‘We’ll go the back way,’ O’Dair said. ‘I don’t want to meet the Prime Minister just yet. Not until I’ve dealt with you.’

‘You can’t kill Mr Moleglass!’ Charlie cried. ‘He’s your husband!’

‘That’s why, stupid girl! Otherwise the marriage to the King won’t be legal.’

‘My father won’t marry you! And even if you made him do it, my mother’s still alive.’

‘Your mother doesn’t worry me,’ panted O’Dair. ‘She’ll
not dare show her face here. I know things––’

‘What? What do you know?’ But the housekeeper had reached the door to the servants’ stair. She dragged Charlie down into the dark. Charlie stumbled, slid two steps, grabbed the handrail with her free hand and got her feet under her again. She was pulled stumbling and slipping all the way down the twisting narrow stair.

O’Dair yanked her along the servants’ corridor to the lift and heaved her inside. Charlie crashed against a wall and slid to her knees. O’Dair had her back to her, closing the lift doors. She ignored Charlie. It was as though she was already dead. Charlie climbed to her feet and stood, shaking and sick, weak with fear, as – with a clanking of chains and grinding of gears – the lift plunged towards Mr Moleglass’s cellar.

The mouth of the pistol pressed against the back of her head.

‘Knock on the door,’ hissed O’Dair. ‘Call out to him.’

Charlie shivered. She thought of Mr Moleglass lying peaceably asleep in his bed on the other side of the door, unaware that death waited in the cold dust of the corridor. She took a deep, slow breath. ‘Mr Moleglass!’ she shouted. ‘
Don’t open the door!
O’Dair has a gun! She wants to k––’ A massive hand clamped across her mouth and squashed her to O’Dair’s bosom. Whalebone poked her shoulders, bombazine slithered on the back of her neck, oil of cloves suffocated her.

‘Do you think that matters?’ O’Dair chuckled. Her bosom heaved and her corsets groaned. ‘Ancel!’ she called. ‘Ancel, open the door. I have your little friend here. There is a pistol at her head. If the door is not open in two minutes, I will pull the trigger.’

Charlie twisted and kicked and writhed, but O’Dair took no notice. A light flickered beneath Moleglass’s door, strengthened, rayed outwards. Charlie heard footsteps approaching and fought the stone hand in a frenzy of despair. The door opened inwards and the butler stood puddled in light. His hair stuck out from his head like black feathers; he wore a dark blue dressing gown tied across his egg-shaped stomach, and his seal’s eyes were bitter with disappointment as he looked at Mrs O’Dair.

‘Let go of the child, Agatha,’ he said. ‘This is unnecessary and unbecoming. Come inside, and I will put the kettle on.’

‘You silly little man!’ spat O’Dair. ‘You think a cup of tea can solve all the world’s problems!’

‘Better than a gun, at any rate. Let go of the child. She is powerless to stop you, whatever you intend.’

Mrs O’Dair’s hand slid from Charlie’s mouth, grasped her shoulder and shoved her forward. Charlie fell into Mr Moleglass’s arms and was gathered tight. His hand smoothed her hair, and he kissed the top of her head. ‘Sit in my chair, Charlie. Try not to worry. I will deal with Mrs O’Dair.’

She looked up at him. His brown eyes met hers, and he smiled. His smile was sad. ‘Please, Charlie,’ it said. ‘Pretend to believe me.’

She stumbled to the chair and crouched in it, shivering, her eyes fixed on O’Dair as the housekeeper advanced into the room, her pistol pointing at Mr Moleglass’s heart.

‘I’m sorry, Ancel,’ she said. ‘You and the girl will come with me to the dungeons. No cups of tea.’

‘Leave Charlie here. She is no threat to you.’

‘Of course she is. Her father loves her, after his fashion. That is threat enough. Besides, I hate the brat.’

‘Then you will have to kill us here. I shall not make things easier for you.’

Mrs O’Dair’s eyes narrowed. Her face flushed the colour of rusty iron. ‘You are too fond of your own way, Ancel! It has been your greatest fault as a husband.’ She raised the pistol. ‘Very well––’

‘I am surprised at you, Agatha,’ Moleglass said. His voice shook, very slightly. ‘It is unlike you to throw away a fortune.’

O’Dair’s eyes flickered. The mouth of the pistol lowered a fraction of an inch. ‘A fortune? What are you talking about?’

Charlie wondered the same thing. She leant forward, staring at the butler, heart thumping.

‘The Queen’s papers. The Prime Minister would pay a handsome sum for them.’

Charlie gasped.
Of course!
Clever Mr Moleglass.

The housekeeper snorted derisively. ‘A fortune? For papers?’

‘You don’t know what Windlass is after, do you?’ Charlie made herself speak. She tried to ignore the pistol as it swivelled to point at her head. ‘He’s tricked you from the beginning. Letting you have the pickings from the Castle. Silver, china, wine, linens. How much have you made from those? Hundreds? A thousand? Alistair Windlass has robbed the entire Kingdom. He’s stolen a fortune! And he would give half of it to you for my mother’s scientific papers.’

‘Why?’ scoffed O’Dair. ‘Why should he want that woman’s scribblings?’

‘Power,’ Charlie whispered. And watched the pupils of O’Dair’s eyes widen with greed. ‘She invented something by accident. A new sort of weapon.’

O’Dair hissed. Revelation lit her face, curved her lips in a moist smile. ‘
That’s
why she ran away.’

Charlie nodded. ‘Yes. She ran from him. She ran to protect her science.’

The housekeeper’s eyes glittered. ‘Where are these papers, then?’

‘They’re—’

‘I will take you to them,’ Mr Moleglass interrupted. ‘The Queen entrusted them to me before she left.’

Charlie stared at him, appalled. He was trying to draw the housekeeper away. Using himself as bait in order to save her. Once he was alone with O’Dair, he would try
to get the gun from her. And she would kill him.

‘He’s lying!’ she shouted.

Moleglass’s head whipped round, his eyes wide with alarm. ‘Charlie! Stay out of this!’

‘What do you mean?’ O’Dair advanced until she towered over her. The smell of mothballs and oil of cloves was tainted with the sharpness of sweat. The housekeeper’s forehead was moist, her dark eyes glared at Charlie. She placed the pistol against Charlie’s forehead.

‘Leave her alone, Agatha! The child knows nothing!’

The housekeeper ignored him. The cold circle of steel pressed Charlie’s head into the back of the chair. ‘Well?’ hissed O’Dair. ‘Ancel is lying, is he? Then what is the truth, brat?
Where are those papers?
’

The gun pinned her to the chair. She couldn’t move. ‘Unload your pistol and give me the bullets. Then I’ll tell you.’

O’Dair’s full lips stretched in a slow smile. She took a step backwards, and a wave of giddiness swept over Charlie as the pistol released her. ‘You must think me a fool!’ The housekeeper shook her head. ‘Tell me, or I shoot your beloved Mr Moleglass. I will count to five.’

‘If you kill him, I’ll never tell you!’ Charlie shouted.

O’Dair’s smile broadened. She aimed the pistol at Moleglass’s heart. The butler flinched, took a single step back, then stood quite still, facing his wife. ‘One,’ she said. ‘Two…three…fou––’

‘All right!’ cried Charlie. ‘They’re in my bedroom. My mother gave them to me the night she left. I’ve been hiding them for her ever since. They’re stuck to the back of my wardrobe.’

‘No, Charlie!’ Mr Moleglass shouted. He jumped forward and yanked her out of the chair, shook her. ‘You betray your country! There was no need to tell her the truth! I could have got the gun from her, you
stupid
child!’ He let go of Charlie and whirled to face the housekeeper. ‘Don’t give those papers to the Prime Minister, Agatha. I beg you! If you do, you will cause the deaths of countless innocent people and put at risk the liberty and personal freedom of every citizen of Quale!’

Mrs O’Dair laughed. ‘Always a flair for the dramatic! Really, you should have gone on the stage. What is a butler, after all, but someone acting a part for the whole of their lives? Do you think I care about any of that? You amuse me, Ancel. As a reward, I shall let you and the brat live. For a little longer.’ She backed from the room, pausing to take the key from the lock. The door shut her from view, and Charlie heard the click of the key in the lock, the creak and rustle of bone and bombazine, then silence.

Moleglass turned to her, panting, his eyes dark as coal in a chalky face. ‘Charlie! You should not have interfered! She nearly killed you!’ He reached out, hugged her close, then pushed her away so he could look into her face. ‘Where is Tobias? What has happened? I waited in the
freight room all night, and you did not come. I have been frantic!’

‘Tobias is safe, I think. But we have to get out of here!’

‘The door is locked, Charlie. I can try to break it down, but––’

She fished the buttonhook from her pocket and ran to the door.

‘Charlie, what are you––’

‘Not now!’ She knelt and wriggled the hook into the keyhole. Five minutes later she was still jiggling and probing. Her fingers had lost the knack. ‘Sweet Betty!’ she exploded and twisted the hook viciously. It found an edge of metal, pushed it to one side, and the lock clicked open.

‘Psychology obviously comes into it,’ Moleglass observed drily. ‘Quickly now, child. We must get out of the Castle.’

‘No!’ Charlie sprang to her feet. ‘Go and find Nell, Mr Moleglass. Rose Petch will know where she is. Then go with her to fetch the Resistance. Windlass is in the library right now, forging my father’s suicide note. We can’t fight him alone. He’s far more dangerous than Mrs O’Dair, and the Guard will obey him, not me. We need help. And witnesses. And for goodness’ sake, stay out of O’Dair’s way. Oh…’ She fished in her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. ‘This is the address of the house where one of Windlass’s men is holding Tobias. Have you got a lantern?’

Moleglass stared at her, then at the paper she had thrust in his hand. ‘Why do you need a lantern? What are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to find my father.’

The lift returned all too soon. Charlie stood in a circle of lantern light and heard the clanking approach. Mr Moleglass had gone. Soon the lift would be carrying her deep beneath the Castle. She shivered.

The inner grille closed, and the outer doors groaned and creaked shut. The lift lurched and began to sink. Charlie leant against the side and tried not to think of the tons of earth and stone swallowing her. She felt her heart stutter, speed, start to gallop. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She gasped for air, grew giddy. The needle in the semicircle over the door jumped from B1 to B2. A lifetime later it lurched from B2 to B3. Her heart was winning the race. She would die before she reached the dungeons.

She stared at the golden glow of the lantern – the frail circle of light keeping her safe. She felt the weight of the Castle over her head. Worse, she felt the infinite darkness of the dungeons lying in wait, ready to pounce the moment the flame failed or the oil ran out. What had Tobias said? ‘It’s only dark,’ she murmured, hearing his voice again. ‘Dark can’t kill you.’ Then why did she feel like she was about to die? ‘It’s only fear,’ she told the lift. ‘Fear of the dark. Fear of being closed in. It can’t kill me.’ She didn’t believe it.

The lift juddered to a stop. She picked up the lantern, stumbled to the grille and tugged. She waited another lifetime, her heart rattling too fast to count the beats, until the lift doors groaned open. Air as cold and wet as an invisible river rinsed her face. The cold calmed her, gave her breath. She lifted the lantern and began to run.

‘Father!
Father!
It’s Charlie. Where are you?’

She ran inside her circle of light through the darkness, stumbling over paving stones, listening for her father’s voice, hearing the rats skittering along the walls. Cell after empty cell. Then: ‘Charlotte? Is that you? Child! Why are you not safely in bed?’

Her father peered at her through rusty iron bars. His hair tumbled about his face and he was wearing striped pyjamas, a flannel dressing gown and slippers. Charlie grabbed his hand through the bar. It was ice cold.