13 Treasures (29 page)

After the previous night’s events she wasn’t hungry, but had decided to force some breakfast down. For the first time, Florence had not bothered to make breakfast, and was nowhere to be seen. Now, Tanya was standing at the kitchen door munching mechanically on a crumpet while watching Oberon sniffing about in the back garden.

Warwick came into the kitchen. Now that she was no longer alone, Tanya became aware of the sound of her own mouth chewing noisily. She stopped and swallowed, resisting the urge to cough as a stodgy lump got lodged in her throat.

“Didn’t know anyone else was up yet,” said Warwick, in his usual sullen manner. He flicked the switch on the kettle, then spooned instant coffee into a mug.

“I didn’t sleep very well,” said Tanya. As soon as the words were out of her mouth she realized how stupid she sounded.

Warwick gave his usual grunt and turned his back on her.

“I don’t think any of us slept well,” he muttered. The strong smell of cheap coffee filled the kitchen as he poured boiling water into the mug. He left without another word.

Less than a minute later Fabian came into the kitchen and sat down at the table. He looked at her expectantly.

“What are you looking at?” said Tanya, annoyed by his staring.

“
What are you looking at?
” Fabian mimicked immediately.

Tanya scowled. “So you’ve heard.”

Fabian grinned. “Of course. Warwick told me. I can’t believe I slept right through it. Sounds like it was a hoot.”

“It wasn’t me, Fabian,” Tanya said tiredly. “It was
them
. The fairies. They came to punish me for… for what happened to the drain-dweller.”

The smirk on Fabian’s face died instantly. “You mean they… did that? Made you repeat everything?”

Tanya nodded. “And that’s not all. I found out why the drain-dweller was so obsessed with getting the charm bracelet. It wasn’t just because it was shiny. It’s because the charms on the bracelet symbolize the Thirteen Treasures.”

“From the Seelie and Unseelie Courts?” Fabian asked.

“Yes. Whoever commissioned the bracelet would have wanted something personal, something of significance to them. The legend of the Thirteen Treasures is an obscure one, which means that the original owner of the bracelet must have had a strong connection to the fairies.”

“What kind of connection?”

“The kind that gave some of the descendants in this family—including me—the second sight.”

“A changeling,” Fabian finished. “So we have to trace it back to its original owner, then you’ll have your answer.”

“I think I already know who the original owner was. She’s wearing the bracelet in the portrait in her room. It was Elizabeth Elvesden.” Tanya got up and closed the kitchen door, after taking a quick peek into the hallway to ensure they were alone. She took a seat at the table opposite Fabian.

“I’ll help you go through with this plan to save Morwenna Bloom so we can clear Amos’s name,” she said quietly. “But after that, I’m done with the fairies.”

“What do you mean?” asked Fabian. “It’s not like you’ll just stop seeing them, is it?”

“I know I won’t stop seeing them,” said Tanya. “I don’t have any choice in the matter. But what I do have a choice in is how I react to them. Everything that they’ve ever done to me has been as a result of something I’ve done. Someone I’ve tried to tell about them, or something that’s affected them. All they’ve ever wanted is my silence. So maybe if I give them what they want, they’ll leave me alone. And maybe I can start to live a normal sort of life.”

“That’s a lot of ‘maybes,’ ” Fabian said quietly.

“I know,” said Tanya. “But ‘maybe’ is all I have.”

Fabian stood up and opened the back door. He hovered in the doorway, and was knocked off balance as Oberon barged past him in his eagerness to get out into the garden.

“He’s violent, you know,” Fabian said. “Amos, I mean. It’s no surprise people thought he was capable of… of what he was accused of.” He paused and brought his hand to his temple. “Remember… remember that bruise I had? I told you I fell. But I lied.”

Tanya said nothing. She had suspected as much all along.

“When we found out who the girl we’d seen in the woods that day really was, I got desperate,” Fabian continued. “After I told you about Morwenna that night, I stayed on the second floor and waited until Amos left his room to use the bathroom—I knew that it would give me a couple of minutes to look around—he takes ages moving around these days. I waited in the alcove—it seemed like I’d been there for hours by the time he finally emerged. As soon as he was out of sight I crept into his room.”

“What were you looking for?” Tanya asked.

“Anything,” said Fabian. “Anything… that might suggest his innocence… or his guilt.”

“If the police cleared him, do you honestly think you’d be able to find anything after all this time?”

“I don’t know.” Fabian closed his eyes. “It was awful. There was junk everywhere… stacks of old newspapers… clothes he hasn’t worn for years, and probably never will again. Gifts he’s never opened… still in the wrapping paper. I’ve heard my father telling Florence about how he won’t have anything thrown away, but I didn’t realize to what extent. I found some really creepy stuff…” he broke off and shuddered.

“Like what?”

“A lock of hair.” Seeing the alarmed look on Tanya’s face he quickly added, “Don’t worry, it’s not yours. It’s too dark. It was in a box with his wedding ring and some photos of my grandmother, and other stuff that belonged to her. It must have been hers—she was dark.

“It was so cluttered in there it was hard to think straight. I was just about to give up and leave when I found something. A scrapbook of newspaper clippings, all about Morwenna—dozens of them. There was even one dating back to before she disappeared.”

“Why would she be in the paper before she’d disappeared?”

“She’d won a local talent competition—apparently she had a gift for poetry.”

“She must have written the poem I found,” Tanya said slowly. “But that doesn’t explain how it came to be in my room.” She frowned. “So then what happened?”

“I started reading through the clippings,” said Fabian. “But I must have been in there longer than I thought because Amos came back… and found me.”

“He hit you?”

“He started screaming at me to get out,” said Fabian. “I froze at first. And then when I tried to get past him to get out of the room, well… I think it must have scared him. He struck out at me. And… and the worst of it is… I don’t think he even recognized me anymore.”

Neither of them said much for a while after that. There were no words that would bring any comfort to Fabian, and they both knew it.

From the hallway, the grandfather clock chimed the hour, breaking the silence.

“Warwick will be leaving soon,” Fabian said in a low voice.

“Are you prepared?” Tanya asked.

“I’ve got the map, flashlight, and all that kind of stuff.”

“I’ve got the compass, and an old iron nail to carry in my pocket. And I’ve also sewn a couple of salt pouches to carry in our pockets as extra protection. If any fairies attack you, break the pouches open and throw it at them. I’ll need a lock of your hair too, in case… you know.”

“In case we get trapped in the fairy realm,” Fabian finished grimly.

Tanya nodded and hurriedly continued. “Try to wear something red if you can.”

“I don’t have anything red.”

“Then turn your clothes inside out. And whatever you do, don’t forget the tonic that Morag gave you.” She quickly moved on as Fabian gave her a scornful look.

“We need to leave earlier than we did last time if we’re going to make use of the in-between. We have to find Morwenna before then, so we can lead her out of the fairy realm at the stroke of midnight—that’s when it’s most easily accessible.”

Fabian nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll make sure my watch is absolutely accurate before we leave. I’ll set the alarm to go off at midnight.”

Tanya felt a prickle of fear at what was to come. It seemed they had thought of everything. Yet still she failed to trust that it would be enough.

The morning dragged on. Warwick left while it was still early. After loading a stack of hunting supplies into the Land Rover, he drove noisily through the gates and onto the dirt road, away from Elvesden Manor.

At midday, Tanya looked at the clock on the landing.

Twelve hours to go
.

Throughout the day Oberon was restless, sensing her unease. He seemed unable to keep still for more than a few minutes at a time and wandered from room to room, only adding to Tanya’s trepidation. Finally, the sun slipped down in the sky until it disappeared altogether, leaving darkness to wrap around the manor like a heavy blanket. The grandfather clock ticked on.

The house was still and quiet. Tanya edged down the stairs. On the landing Spitfire was fast asleep at the foot of the grandfather clock, splayed out like a matted ginger rug. She sidestepped him and proceeded toward the darkened kitchen, where a low rumbling noise caused her to pause before she realized that the noise was Oberon snoring. She was just about to step into the kitchen when the sound of smashing glass came from a nearby room.

Her eyes darted across the hallway. A sliver of light was visible from below the living room door. She caught Florence’s exclamation of annoyance. Tanya slipped into the kitchen and hid in the first place she could think of: under the large oak table. Oberon looked up at her lazily from his basket, and for one awful moment it looked as if he was going to come over and give her away.

“Stay!” Tanya hissed.

Oberon stayed.

The door opened and Florence came into the hallway, grumbling in a low voice. She fumbled about, banging and clattering in one of the cupboards, then plodded back to the living room. Tanya listened as shards of broken glass were swept up, and then Florence came into the kitchen, her dowdy slippers just visible from where Tanya sat crouched under the tablecloth. Her grandmother threw the broken glass into the trash, then left, turning the hallway light off. The slap of her slippers was audible on the carpet as she shuffled upstairs.

Tanya closed her eyes in relief. She climbed out from under the table, her legs shaky beneath her, and went over to Oberon, who was now looking very puzzled as to her odd behavior. From her pocket she pulled out the red beaded scarf and wrapped it around his neck, tucking the loose ends into his collar. The two of them slipped out into the cool night air, through the garden, and onward toward the gate.

Fabian was waiting on the other side, silent and paler in the face than usual. He jumped when Oberon stuck his wet nose into the palm of his hand in greeting, then regarded the dog strangely.

“Isn’t that your scarf he’s wearing?”

“He needs protecting too,” Tanya said stiffly.

“Well, I don’t think red is his color,” Fabian cracked.

Tanya was too anxious to force a laugh. “Just keep quiet,” she said. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

Fabian shut up immediately, his hand straying subconsciously to the top of his head as if remembering the raven’s attack on their last attempt to enter the woods.

They began to walk to the forest, Oberon bounding off ahead. He was getting rather accustomed to these late night walks by now.

It was a clear night. A crescent moon hung in the inky sky above them, and the stars glittered like a gauzy silver veil. Tanya folded her arms tightly around herself, glad she had dressed warmly. Over jeans and her only red T-shirt she had chosen to wear the old raincoat, the same one she had worn on the night of the storm. In the right pocket of the coat she had the compass and the iron nail; in her left, the scissors that Morag had given her, and a small cloth bag of salt.

As they approached the brook Fabian paused to squint around in the darkness.

“What’s the matter?” Tanya asked.

“Nothing,” Fabian muttered.

“
Tell
me.”

“I’ve just… just got a feeling we’re being followed. Don’t look. Let’s just get into the forest.”

“Have you seen someone?”

“No, I haven’t seen anything,” said Fabian. “It’s just a feeling. Keep moving.”