Abby the Witch (35 page)

He could have
changed history for the better… if only he'd lived.

As the Prince
walked before her, Abby had found her eyes darting over the back of
his head, imagining how different history would have been...
would be if he were to live.

It was like
walking in the presence of a ghost: a fully alive, warm, friendly
ghost.

When the tour
had finished, when the Prince had been called away on some matter,
Abby had been left in a more conflicted mood than she had ever
experienced.

What had been
clear to her this morning, was now lost in an impenetrable fog. She
knew that the Colonel must not be killed in a misguided effort to
save the future. But she knew, with perhaps more certainty, that
the Prince should not die either.

For a while
Abby walked through the halls of the Palace, wandering towards the
kitchens in a haze of thought.

There didn't
seem to be anyone she could turn to, anyone she could trust to
discuss this reasonably with. She knew Pembrake's position... and
knew that she could not stomach talking it through with him
again.

The Prince was
just so nice.

Before Abby
had reached the kitchens or indeed a conclusion – she ran into an
unexpected, but friendly face.

Walking along
one of the great halls, head turned towards her feet, was Lilly.
She looked even more defeated than she had the night before. She
may not have been crying, or hugging herself tightly, but the way
her face hardly moved and her eyes stared blankly at her feet made
for a much more touching picture.

When she
finally looked up, Abby was barely several steps from her. A quick
change flew across Lilly's face and she smiled warmly.

Though Lilly
shared the same bubbly effervescent attitude of the Princess, there
was a genuine warmth behind Lilly's action that Annabelle’s
lacked.

'Oh, Abby, I'm
so glad to see you!'

Abby felt
almost overpowered by the sorrow reaching out from Lilly. She put
out a hand and patted Lilly's arm. 'Likewise.'

'Oh no, Abby,
you don't understand. It's so lucky I ran into you!'

'It is?'

'Yes,' Lilly
plunged a hand into her pocket, 'I need you to deliver something to
Pembrake for me.'

Abby bit her
lip from confusion. It took her a moment before she realised who
Lilly was speaking of. 'You mean Karing?'

Lilly nodded
and held out her hand.

Abby held out
her own hand and Lilly placed something in it. As Abby looked down
and recognised the object, tendrils of energy snaked through her
back with thrilling speed.

The bracelet.
Or more accurately, the bracelet of 28 years ago. Abby still had
the bracelet from the future in her pocket.

'It is a
family heirloom.' Lilly looked at the ground, eyes dazed. 'It has
been passed down for generations. It is a tradition to wear it
when... we get married.'

Abby gave
Lilly a sympathetic look, trying not to let her mind be bent to
studying the bracelet just yet.

'I want you to
give it to Pembrake....'

'But why can't
you?' Abby was still staring at the bracelet. This could
change everything. This bracelet was not broken: it was in
perfect condition....

'No,' Lilly
said bitterly, 'he's been called away... and I have to leave in the
morning to meet... one of the suitors Franklin has lined up for
me…. Look, Abby please just find him and give it to
him, please.' The emotion coming from Lilly was palpable.

Abby
nodded.

Lilly tried
for one last smile before running off down the corridors, her face
buried in her hands.

Abby stared
down at the bracelet in her hands, feeling the weight of the other
bracelet in her pocket.

She now
had two powerful talismans. This had to change things,
this had to get her and Pembrake closer to the
future.

Abby let her
eyes drift up and through one of the tall windows set into the
wall. They offered a wonderful view of the grounds, and marching
across the grass at that very moment was a very familiar form.

Pembrake was
stalking away to the west wing of the Palace, and she had never
seen him walk with more determination.

Things
appeared to be coming to a head.

Sometimes,
unexpected things occur….

The Colonel
was in his office. He was sitting on a plush chair next to a
roaring fire with his feet up on the coffee table.

He appeared to
be at rest.

Appearances
can be deceiving.

Pembrake sat
in the chair opposite the Colonel and began to fully appreciate
that statement for what it was: the greatest warning any man can
ever receive. Thing are always more complicated, more
convoluted, and far more dangerous than they appear.

'It was nice
of you to join me,' the Colonel lolled his eyes sleepily before
finally opening them fully. 'I had heard that you had been
quite busy these last several days.'

Pembrake
nodded curtly in reply.

He'd been
staking out the west wing of the Palace, where he knew that the
Colonel resided, when a servant had rushed up to him. Pembrake had
been too busy to notice at first, but the man, sallow skinned with
longish, oily black hair, had appeared at Pembrake's side as if he
had popped out from the ground itself.

In a polite
tone, the man had informed him that the Colonel had been wishing
for some time to make his acquaintance formally and that he thought
now was an especially good time. Pembrake had blinked back the
shock and had accepted. What else was he supposed to do, after
all?

But the walk
though the west wing of the palace had been a long and tortuous
one. Had the Colonel somehow learned about his plans? Did he know
what Pembrake was planning? Was 'make your acquaintance' code for
run you through with a sword?

The servant
that had been dispatched to find Pembrake had also caused him to
pause for thought. The man was strangely familiar and there was
something about the loose movement of his body and the unblinking
stare to his eyes, that told Pembrake he was no ordinary staff
member.

The man looked
like he had been born to kill.

So by the time
Pembrake had finally walked through the doors to the Colonel's
office, he had been ready for anything. His churning stomach told
him to be on the alert. The Colonel had, in fact, been sitting in
his chair staring at the fire. But Pembrake had known at that
moment that he was done for.

He'd been
asked to take a seat.

'I find you
very curious,' the Colonel tapped at the corner of his chair, 'you
do not appear to fit in here, sir.'

Pembrake
maintained his silence.

'Neither you
nor your companion fit in here. Is there perhaps something that you
could share with me to explain this little oddity?'

'We aren't
from around here,' Pembrake finally offered. Too much silence was
never a good thing around psychotic despots.

'How
clarifying. There is nothing else you would like to add? There is
no reason you could think of why a man such as yourself should be
travelling through Bridgestock with a witch of all
people?' the expression on the Colonel's face hadn't change any,
nor had his tone, but the word witch had ignited a fire of hatred
somewhere in the man, and Pembrake felt it burn at this face.

He knew Abby
was a witch. Oh god..

~~~

Abby went back
to the kitchen to wait for Martha but on the way was waylaid by a
very nervous Charlie. Never before had she seen her little cat so
anxious. His little paws shook like he was trying to balance on a
large ball.

'Charlie?'
she'd bent down to pull him into a hug and comfort him from
whatever loud noise or sudden movement had shocked him so. 'What's
wrong?'

'Abby! I might
have done something a bit terrible!'

Ordinarily she
would have ignored a statement like this coming from Charlie. He
was prone to exaggeration. But this was not normal Charlie
behaviour. 'What on Earth are you talking about?'

'Abby! I've
gone and told Pembrake something and... I think it might have been
a tiny mistake....'

'What?'

'Well... the
thing is, I might have been hiding something from you. Not
something big, mind you... well not monumental anyway... well only
a little monumental anyway.'

'What,
Charlie?'

'Apparently
the Colonel is looking for a witch, Abby. He's looking for a witch
for some horrible reason. I heard it off a flock of
seagulls. Apparently the other witches in town have cleared off. I
was going to warn you, Abby... but I didn't think it would
work.'

Abby was
dumbstruck. It seemed moment after moment she would receive some
new and all-important piece of information. Now, not only did she
have to think about the Prince and how to save him, but she had to
figure out how to use the bracelets and worry about
Pembrake and the Colonel.

The fact that
the Colonel was looking for a witch did not surprise Abby though.
He was responsible for the Witch Ban, after all, somewhere along
the line he would have to find a witch to pin his planned
assassinations on.... But it was unsettling that all the other
witches had left town... because that left Abby as the only witch
of Bridgestock.

Abby
straightened herself up and sniffed.

'Abby, no, no,
no – what are you thinking? Abby, I know that look in your
eyes. I knew I shouldn't have told you! You're going to get
all righteous and go and confront the Colonel or something, when
you should be running away!'

Abby
repositioned her grip on Charlie and looked down at him. 'Someone
has to do something, Charlie. You told me that last night. You said
that it was time that I take matters into my own hands. You said
that it was time for me to start rewriting my destiny.'

'Yes, by
running away! Some of the best destinies, I'm sure, have started by
people running the pleck away from the psycho who wants to pin a
royal assassination on them. Abby!'

Abby took a
breath and sniffed again. She really could feel the sniff rattle
her nostrils, just like a proper sniff should. Her sniff would
reveal her mind perfectly. It was time to get out of her way; it
was time for this witch to do something.

She headed off
down the corridor with Charlie still in her arms. This wasn't going
to be easy. Her heart was fluttering and rattling around like a
startled bird. But... she had to start making decisions, and that
had been a damn good sniff!

Ms Crowthy
would be proud.

~~~

Wasn't your
life supposed to flash before your eyes? Weren't you supposed to
freeze while your memory offered up the highlights of your sweet
and short existence? Weren't you supposed to
feel something when the end was so near?

No. Because
that happens in stories. In stories they have the luxury of
introspection while being caught in a perilous moment. In the real
world, disaster happens fast, too fast to even conjure up one
favourable memory.

Your life
doesn't flash before your eyes. Only the glint of steel does.

A part of
Pembrake wanted to think of how he'd gotten here. Part of him
wanted to have the time to go through the inventory of events that
led to this current moment in time. How many mistakes had he made
and chosen to ignore on his path to peril?

Maybe there
was one thing you had time for before death: regret.

'Don't worry,
dear boy, he won't kill you yet. No, I need you alive for the time
being,' the Colonel drawled from his chair by the fire, hardly
bothering to turn around.

The servant,
his yellowed eyes alight with the exhilaration of violence, stepped
back, allowing his sword to fall from Pembrake's neck.

'In ordering
him to attack I merely wanted to point out that having you killed
is always an option. Please don't forget that. Now take a seat
again. There's something we must discus.'

Everything was
whirling, gushing, pushing, speeding. His reality was being forced
through a pinhead of desperation. He had failed in his task. But
not only was the failure bitter, it was complete. He had not only
failed to kill the Colonel, he had failed even to try.

There was no
doubt about it. He knew that he, Pembrake Hunter, was the most
stupid, ineffective Commander in the history of the world. Going
back in time had plecked his brain – how else could he fail so
spectacularly?

'Don't berate
yourself, boy. I'm sure your plan would have worked had it been
given a chance. I am simply afraid to admit that I have an
embarrassing advantage; I've hired a Turn About,' he gestured to
the servant, 'and that's stacked the odds slightly in my
favour, don't you think?'

Pembrake
looked at the Turn About. He should have known. No one moves like
that, no one normal, that is.

If he'd known
that the Colonel had a Turn About, then he would never have
bothered. Though Pembrake had never had the misfortune of running
into one in the future, he's heard all the stories about Turn
Abouts. They were formidable, far more formidable than a mid-sized
Commander.

It would have
been tracking them. As soon as the Colonel had grown suspicious of
Pembrake and Abby, he would have sent that thing out to shadow
their steps and learn their secret. Pleck, he would
know everything!

Sure enough
the Colonel began to smile with horrendous sadism. 'Oh you are
begging to follow, I see?' he leant forward, 'it is true I know of
you mission here, I know everything about you.'

Pembrake
didn't move; his whole body had become as stiff as a steel
sheet.

'I know, of
course, of your planned assassination. But I know also of your
origin: I know where you are from and who sent you!'