The Last Dragon Chronicles: Dark Fire (13 page)

men in our families have never been able

to come to terms with the etheric world, but they can never quite step away from it either. One only has to look at Henry’s collection of books to know it. Everything from Native American legends to the Loch Ness Monster to the works of Bram

Stoker. He was drawn to ‘weirdness’. He

just didn’t know why. It frustrated him all

his life.”

“Who
 
are
 
you?” said Zanna, broaching the question that Lucy had been dying to ask.

Agatha responded with a hairlinesmile. “You of all people should know theanswer to that.”

“You’re a sibyl,” said Arthur.

Liz brought her cup down onto her

saucer.

David broke a cheese straw in half. He

placed one end in his mouth and said nothing.

“Yes,” said Agatha, “just like Suzanna and the woman in the graveyard.”

“She’s my Naunty Gwyneth,” said Alexa before Zanna could speak out and stop her.

“Is she now?” Agatha said. She didn’t seem the least bit surprised. “Yes, I can understand why ‘Aunty Gwyneth’ would be quite attached to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Zanna.

Agatha cast her regal gaze over her.

“You don’t trust me, do you, girl?

Understandable.   I   was   young   andheadstrong once. But given there is aninvisible spirit – probably a small dragon – watching my every move, and that theexceedingly quiet young man to my righthas scanned me several times for anysigns of wickedness – and found none – Ithink you can assume I wish you no harm.” She turned again to Liz. “Tell me, did your ‘aunt’ ever visit this house?”

“Occasionally,” said Liz, still in shock. “She and Henry… ” But what could she say? That Gwilanna was another piece of ‘weirdness’ he’d been attracted to?

Agatha raised a hand, indicating Lizneed go no further. “I think it’s time weheard Henry’s will. Hedley!”

“What? Oh, yes. Yes, of course.” Mr

Hamilton reached for his briefcase again. From it, he drew out a legal-lookingdocument and a glasses case even morebattered than his bag.

He put on his spectacles, cleared histhroat and started  to speak. “Well, now. Yes, here we are. Mr Bacon – Henry Augustus Charles – left a remarkablyconcise will, to which he added one ortwo significant codicils over the years. He

was  unmarried,  as  you  know,  and therefore without dependants. He was a thrifty  man  who   looked   after   his investments and inheritances wisely. By late middle age he would have had no real need to work. I suspect it was his love of books and his desire to be of service to

the people of Scrubbley that kept him at

his library desk. He died a wealthy man.

“It will come as no surprise perhaps to learn that he has left a sum of £20,000 to the town council to aid the redevelopment of the children’s library area overlooking the public gardens. He was very fond of promoting   reading   amongst   young people.”

“Oh, Henry,” Liz said. Arthur patted her hand.

Mr Hamilton turned a page. “There areone or two other minor bequests but I’llskip to the main part of the will, theparagraphs which concern those present.” He coughed like a boiler in need of aservice. “To my dear sister, Agatha Bacon, I leave the sum of £50,000, plusany items of sentimental value which she

might wish to take, at her absolute discretion, from my house.”

“Wow,” whistled Lucy. She knocked her fists together. “He never even bought me a flipping ice cream.”

“Lucy, be quiet! Show some respect!” Liz shook her head in dismay. “Sorry, Mr Hamilton. Please go on.”

Hedley raised his gaze above his spectacles.   “To  my  neighbour,  Mrs Elizabeth Pennykettle, I also leave the sum of £50,000—”

“
 
What?!
” screeched Lucy, jumping out

of her seat.

This time, her mother was just asvoluble. “Oh, my goodness! That can’t beright. Read it again. There’s been amistake.”

“My brother never made mistakes,” said Agatha, “not with matters of a legal nature. Go on, Hedley.”

“Of which an appropriate sum will be set aside for the education of Lucy Pennykettle, through the best university obtainable.”

Zanna opened her bag and took out atissue. She was practically in tears.

Hedley Hamilton turned his gazetowards David. “To my one-time lodger, David Rain, I leave my entire collectionof books and Arctic memorabilia in the

hope they might further his literary career, this to be modified by any claim Agatha might wish to have on said items.”

“I have none,” said Agatha brusquely.

Mr Hamilton noted it. He tapped the

document and peered at David. “There is, however, a slight condition attached to this bequest. Mr Bacon wishes for these items to remain intact, in the house library upstairs,   if  the  new   owner  is   in agreement.”

“But how’s that going to work?” said Liz. “Won’t the property be sold? It would be unfair to expect the buyer to preserve a whole library.”

“Well, that brings me to the final announcement,” Hedley Hamilton said. He turned   another   page.   “To   Suzanna Martindale, I leave my house and its entire

contents—”

“Hhh!” gasped Liz and Lucy together (Alexa joined in for good measure). David merely smiled and glanced at

Zanna, who was shocked into a state ofmotionless beauty.

“Barring any claims as stated above,for the upkeep of herself and her daughter, Miss Alexa Martindale, plus the residueof my estate.” Mr Hamilton produced asheet of figures. “Which, after legalexpenses, executor’s fees and the paymentof outstanding utility bills will amount, Isuspect, to somewhere in the region of £38,000. Congratulations, Ms Martindale. I can tell you from personal acquaintancewith Henry that he held you in the deepest,most gentlemanly regard.”

“No,” said Zanna, running with tears. She stood up and gaped at the ceiling, as ifshe was appealing to Henry’s spirit. “Henry, you can’t do this.”

Liz stood up and put her arms aroundher. “Sweetheart, it’s OK. Come on. Sitdown.”

“No,” Zanna said, shaking fiercely. “I

mean, I know he was kind, but—”

Mr Hamilton re-cleared his throat.

“Erm, there is one other inclusion attached to your bequest, Ms Martindale. It has no monetary bearing, but I’m legally obliged to mention it to you.”

Liz waved a hand at him. “Yes, go on.”

Hedley tapped his polished black brogues against the carpet. “This concerns you as well, Mr Rain.”

David tilted his head.

“I understand you’ve been away for

some while?”

“I have,” said David, careful to look at

no one but the solicitor.

“Mmm. Your return prompted Henry to add a short, but… urgent codicil to his will, which was also done in light of the knowledge about the unfortunate state of his health.”

“Oh, Hedley, do stop bumbling and get on with it!” snapped Agatha.

“Yes, of course,” said Mr Hamilton, pushing his glasses a little higher up his nose. “Well, it’s simply this. Although the deeds of this property will be transferred into Ms Martindale’s name and will be

entirely at her  disposal, Henry wished that his library remain in place in the hope that you two, erm, rekindle your relationship and perhaps eventually… marry one day?”

“What?” said Zanna, whirling round,

almost elbowing Liz in the ribs.

“Wow,” muttered Lucy, under her breath. “Everybody back to the church… ”

Alexa bounded straight to her father, bouncing energetically off his knees. “Hhh! Are you getting married, Daddy?”

He looked up, hoping to engage Zanna’s eyes, but by then the new owner of number 41 Wayward Crescent was heading out of the door.

An audience with Agatha

Agatha Bacon and Hedley Hamiltonannounced they would stay on for anothertwo days, Agatha’s primary objectivebeing   the   management   of  Henry’soutstanding affairs. But this she achievedwith the minimum of fuss by four o’clockon the first afternoon: another testament,she said, to Henry’s skills of organisation. So, having some time to spare, she spentthe early evening in Liz and Arthur’scompany, mainly admiring the Dragons’ Den. She said little else about her talents

as a sibyl and did not push for any more information from Liz. But on the second

day, the telephone rang in Liz’s kitchen

and Zanna was the one to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“I would like to see you.” It was

Agatha’s voice.

Zanna did her best to stall. Since the

unveiling of Henry’s will, all she’d wanted to do was shut herself away – and think. “Well, I’m… ”

“Eleven o’clock,” said Agatha. “Here. Alone.”

The phone went down.

Zanna glanced at Gauge. The timingdragon showed her 10:35. She sighed andlooked out across the garden. Now, thanksto Henry, she could be the mistress of herown patch of England.
 
If
 
she decided tostay. Somewhere upstairs, she could hear Liz and Lucy arguing. Arthur was at workand Alexa was playing. And David? Out

with the shadows again. At least he’d done the decent thing and stayed out of her

way.

Leaving Gretel with instructions to entertain Alexa, Zanna got ready to go next door. She was walking down the hallway, shouldering her bag, when Lucy came thundering down the stairs.

“You going out?”

“Next door, to see Agatha. Not that it’s any business of yours.”

Even so, the news seemed to please the girl. “Where’s David?” She was bubbling over with excitement, the kind associated with the advantage of holding a secret.

“How should I know?” Zanna said

curtly.

“Well, you’re his fiancée, aren’t you?”

The temperature in the hall droppedseveral   degrees.   Gruffen,   fearingviolence, shot away to fetch Liz.

Zanna rounded the foot of the stairs and

backed Lucy up them another two steps. “Don’t you dare taunt me, little girl. Not unless you want to feel the power of this… ” She dragged three purple-coloured fingernails back and forth across the mark of Oomara.

“Zanna?” Liz was quickly on the top step, her hand  reaching down into the well for calm. “Zanna? Honey? What’s the matter?”

The young sibyl pulled away, her darkeyes drilling into Lucy’s terror.

And the girl, despite her fright, shouldhave left the argument there. But the

ability to concede with minimal loss of face had never been part of her make-up. So she chose to blurt out, “He won’t want you, anyway, when I tell him what’s happened.”

And Zanna, her heart in enough cruel shreds, should have known better than to listen to this taunt. Instead, she swung round and faced the girl again. “What? What’s happened?”

Thereafter, the victory was Lucy’s. “I’ve had an email for him.” She paused, long enough to enjoy the flicker of doubt in Zanna’s eyes and to revel in her own superiority. “From Africa. From Sophie.”

“Oh, Lucy… ” Liz groaned, but Zanna had already turned the latch and gone out in a blur of anger, before there was any

chance of making amends.

Outside, she fell back against the door in a wretched state of tightened muscles and unshed tears. It took her fully ninety seconds to manoeuvre the heartache into

the least disruptive channel and draw down calm into her mind again. She blew her nose and looked at  the Crescent. It

was a normal, slightly overcast, spring day in Scrubbley. A young woman was wobbling by on a bike. A whistling postman was doing his rounds. It was a world away from dragons and Arctic mists. Zanna drew a breath and righted herself, then set off for number 41, unaware she was being watched by two large black birds in the sycamore tree just opposite…

Agatha Bacon sensed at once that theyoung woman before her was in some kindof turmoil.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Zanna said as she settled once again on the end of the sofa.
 
Her
 
sofa. She briefly explored the leather with her fingers.

Agatha, slightly less imposing today in a pale pink blouse and shapeless skirt, poured tea. “Affairs of the heart can be the undoing of any sibyl. You are at the age where that discovery is becoming most painful. Women like you and I rarely find love. This man—”

“He’s not a man,” Zanna heard herself

saying.

“David,” Agatha continued, “is unlike

anyone I’ve ever met.”

“You can say that again.”

Agatha snapped her fingers. Zanna felt her neck muscles lock. Just like that, the old woman had thrown a physical spell. “Listen to me, girl. And listen well. I’ve brought you here today to give you advice. You’re strong in spirit but weak in resolve. You must learn to control your wildness or at least channel it. That mark