13 Curses (44 page)

Tanya had jumped on top of a large, square plaque that was high off the ground, and was surveying the
graveyard like she was on a stony island surrounded by sharks.

“How can we not be afraid when they’re coming back… from the dead?” Fabian squeaked as he dodged another bony hand.

“Because that’s all they are,” Red said simply. “They’re dead. Look around you, look at their names. Look at how they died.” She turned and read from the grave nearest to them, inside the walls of the yard. “ ‘
Thomas Goodfellow, died 1907 aged thirty-six. He gave his life to save another
.’ These aren’t demons, or ghouls out to get us. They were just people, like us. We don’t need to be afraid of them—even though that’s what the fairies want. They wanted us to be scared and to run away—but I won’t.”

She bent down and, bracing herself, reached out and gently touched the clenched bone hand with hers. It was cold and smooth, and at her touch it opened like a flower to reveal the charm. Her jaw dropped as she saw that the link was connected to a fine bone, and for a moment she wondered how she was going to get it off. Then she remembered how the bracelet worked. Pulling it out, she brushed it against the dead hand of Elizabeth Elvesden, and as she pulled it away, the charm came with it, back in its rightful place on the bracelet once more.

With its reconnection the life went out of the dead. Skeletal hands and feet—and in one case a skull with raggedy tufts of hair still attached—sank back into their graves, sighing to be at peace once more.
Soon, only one remained: the one holding on to Red’s own hand.

“Rest in peace, Elizabeth,” she said softly, releasing the hand. It remained momentarily, then retreated back into the ground like a snail drawing back into its shell.

“You’re brave, Red,” Tanya murmured, climbing down from where she had perched.

“They were just people,” Red repeated, looking down at the bracelet. “That’s all.”

“I still think you’re nuts,” said Fabian, but his voice held a grudging admiration. He scuffed a clod of earth back into its rightful place, then paused to scan the rest of the graveyard. “A lot of the ground is disturbed. We should try and put it all right again.”

“Yes,” Red agreed, clambering out of the hollow grave where she still stood. She folded the bracelet into the leather pouch and picked up her shovel again, heaping the soil back in. Tanya and Fabian skirted around the yard, filling in clumps of overturned dirt and turf. Finally, when all the soil was replaced in Elizabeth’s grave, they covered it with the grass turf they had taken off to start with.

Afterward, Red’s clothes clung to her skin, damp with sweat. She was exhausted. Tanya and Fabian didn’t look much better off; Fabian had smeared dirt above his upper lip, giving himself an extraordinary moustache, and Tanya was shivering with cold and looking longingly back in the direction of the manor.

“Go back if you want,” said Red, but not unkindly.
“Both of you. But I’m staying. While I’m here I’m going to try and search the church.”

Tanya shook her head, her hair dancing around her face in windblown tangles.

“We’re in this together.”

Red felt a rush of warmth for them both. A dull ache began in her throat, and she swallowed it away before it crept into her voice.

“Let’s go, then,” she said gruffly.

Tanya led them to the side of the church, past a stone well with a battered bucket. Tucked away in the church wall, as she had described, was a tiny window roughly an arm’s length higher than Red was tall.

“You think you’ll be able to squeeze through that?” she asked Tanya doubtfully.

“I might,” said Tanya. “It’s worth trying.”

“We need to get rid of that mesh first,” said Fabian.

“Hmm,” Red agreed. She lifted her shovel, using the handle end to batter at the mesh. It was tough, but the tears had weakened it and eventually it gave. Bottles and jars balanced on the windowsill crashed and smashed to the floor on the other side.

“We could probably go to prison for that too,” said Fabian resignedly.

Tanya took her jacket off and handed it to Fabian, turning to Red. “I need you to give me a leg-up.”

Obligingly, Red moved closer to the wall and linked her fingers together. Tanya stepped into the foothold Red had created and launched herself toward the window, grabbing the sill. She pitched herself onto it,
balancing precariously on the narrow, sloping ledge and gripping the sides until she was secure. Already, Red could see that Tanya’s slim frame would fit through easily.

“Pass me a flashlight,” Tanya said.

Fabian handed her one, and she shone it through the narrow slit.

“It’s a storeroom,” she said. “There’s lots of bottles and a mop and bucket. And there’s a door—it’s closed but maybe it’s unlocked. I’m going in.”

“Wait,” said Red, grabbing her ankle. “First make sure there’s something for you to stand on to get out, in case you can’t go through that door.”

Tanya leaned farther through the window, lifting the flashlight.

“There’s nothing… oh, wait—there’s a chair. It should be high enough to get back up.”

“All right.” Red released her ankle. “Be careful. If you notice anything odd, anything at all, come straight back out.”

Tanya slithered through the window, twisting to get her legs through, followed by her shoulders. Then she vanished into the dark window altogether and they heard her drop nimbly to the floor. Through the window they saw flickering light from Tanya’s flashlight, and then came the sound of a door creaking open. After that the light vanished and there was silence. Oberon sat very still, his head cocked to one side and his eyes trained on the dark spot that Tanya had vanished into.

Red and Fabian waited, increasingly anxious with every moment that Tanya was gone.

“What if she’s found something?” said Fabian. “What if she’s found another charm… and there’s now some horrible curse on her? How will we get in to help her?”

“She won’t go near it if she sees it,” said Red, but inwardly she was worried. Tanya was impetuous—and from what had happened earlier, she knew that none of them would need to get too near to a charm for it to take effect. Worse still, Tanya was alone, and there was no way for Red or Fabian to get in and help her.

She called Tanya’s name a couple of times and listened for a reply. When none came, Fabian started to chew his fingernails and Red began to pace back and forth.

“That’s it,” she said finally. “Fabian, come here. I’m going in after her.”

“You won’t fit,” Fabian snorted. “It’s way too small for you—too small for me, even.”

“I’ve got to try,” she said. “Give me a lift up.”

With difficulty, Fabian linked his fingers together, mimicking the way Red had for Tanya, and hoisted her into the air. It was a clumsy attempt. Fabian wasn’t strong enough to hold her and she failed to get a grip on the window ledge. She slid back down the wall, skinning her palms and bumping her knees, while Fabian ended up with his hands full of mud from her boots.

“What are you doing?” a bemused voice asked.

“Coming to look for you!” Fabian retorted as they spun around to see Tanya watching them.

“There’s a side door,” she said, beckoning. “It’s got one of those old-fashioned latches and a bolt—it was jammed at first.”

They followed her around the other side of the church to where a studded wooden door was ajar in a narrow stone archway. The door was very small, a testament to how old the place was. Tanya was the only one of the three who did not need to duck as she went through it.

Inside the church was no warmer than outside. Red was anxious. If they were caught in the church they were likely to get into a lot of trouble. Their only advantage was that the church really was quite isolated, a good half-mile from its closest neighbor in any direction. But the thought of being caught, this close to finding James, made her exceedingly twitchy.

“I’ve found the lights,” said Tanya. “Shall I put them on?”

“No,” Red answered. “Just stick to the flashlights, and keep them low.”

It was a simple church, laid out in a T shape, with plain wooden pews and an equally plain altar adorned only with a lectern and a low, wide table. There was little that looked to be of value; even the candlesticks on the table were brass. The one thing of beauty was a vast stained-glass window high up on the wall, overlooking the entire church. Once or twice their wayward flashlight beams caught it, lighting up the vibrantly
colored glass. Against the wall below it was an area of scaffolding where some kind of work was in progress.

“Is it even safe to be in here?” said Tanya. “What are they doing to that wall?”

“Looks like it’s being restored,” said Fabian, nodding to a pile of new bricks in a crate nearby. “The stonework is all crumbling and weathered. The wall must be breaking down gradually.”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” said Tanya, turning away from the scaffolding.

“If there’s a charm here we’ll find it,” said Red. “I’m certain of it.”

They shone the flashlights under the pews and over the hard floor, even conducting a fingertip search on hands and knees until their knees bruised and their hands were numb with cold. The air grew even cooler as the time ticked by. The night was ebbing away from them.

“I think we should give up,” said Fabian. “There’s nothing here.”

They neared the far wall with the scaffolding once more, sweeping their flashlights around one last time. On their way toward the door Oberon jumped up at the scaffolding suddenly, nosing past two sticky workmen’s mugs and into a half-eaten packet of cookies. He wolfed down one or two before Tanya got to him and pushed him down. It took both hands for her to wrestle the greedy dog away, and in doing so, she placed her flashlight on the scaffolding. Only when she went to pick it up again did Red notice what the flashlight’s beam had picked out.

“Stop,” she said, her eyes fixed on the wall.

Tanya followed her gaze, and Fabian, who had been almost out of the side door by then, hurried back over.

Lodged between the crumbling stonework, something small and silver was directly in the light from the flashlight.

“It’s the Staff,” Red said, peering closer. Her voice was steady though her insides were not. “The Staff for strength.” She clambered onto the scaffold and edged over to the wall. “It’s wedged between the stones.”

“Can you pull it out?” Tanya asked.

“That’s the whole point,” said Red. She touched it very gently. Only a small section the length of her thumbnail was visible, along with the link. The rest was buried beneath the stone. She felt her forehead prickle with a sudden sweat. “If we pull it out, we don’t know what damage it could do. The wall’s obviously unstable or it wouldn’t need repairing. If we remove one of the stones to get to it, the whole thing could collapse.”

“The Staff for strength in a weak wall,” Fabian said grimly. He pulled himself up next to her and leaned in to touch it.

“Careful,” Red snapped. “We need to think about this.” She pulled out her knife and ran the point of its blade around the edges of the stone. Even with only this light pressure, the mortar holding the stone in place crumbled a little, a fine dust falling to the wooden scaffold.

“It’s brittle,” said Fabian. “We could scrape it away and have the stone loose in no time.”

“Getting it out is easy,” said Red. “All we have to do is touch the bracelet and it’ll reconnect. Doing it with enough time to get away if the wall comes crashing down is the problem. If it came in on us, we could get killed.”

“Not if we’re fast enough,” said Tanya, absentmindedly giving Oberon another cookie without really meaning to. “The scaffold would act as some kind of support and buy some time—enough to grab it and run.”

“It’s risky,” said Red.

“But there’s no other way,” Tanya argued. “Listen, I can run fast. Let me do it. As long as my path is clear to the door, I can make it in a few seconds.”

All three of them stared at the distance from the scaffold to the door. It wasn’t far. Tanya’s plan sounded very possible.

“Be quick,” said Red, handing the pouch with the bracelet to Tanya. Then she and Fabian made their way to the door with Oberon, kicking the path to the door clear from obstructions—workmen’s tools and a couple of unused scaffold poles.

Tanya climbed onto the lower level of the scaffold, nearing the charm. With a last glance at the door, she took the bracelet out and held it to the protruding silver Staff. As it attached itself she drew her hand back carefully, allowing the length of the charm to slide out of the crevice. A fine, powdery dust came with it as a section of the crumbling brick shifted.

“I’ve got it!” she called, tucking the bracelet tightly into her hand and rolling off the scaffold. As her feet met the ground, a heavy thud confirmed that a brick had fallen free from the wall and onto the wooden scaffold. Before the second brick could fall, Tanya was already halfway across the church.

Fabian, seeing her near the door, held it open wide for her to make a clean exit. No sooner had she cleared it to join them safely outside than Oberon, unable to bear the thought of uneaten cookies, shot through the door in a flash, bounding toward the scaffold. Behind it, several bricks slipped from the wall, hit the wooden platform, and then crashed to the floor.