Isabella's Heiress (31 page)

The second voice came from the rigging of the whip
that was now behind her. Emma turned to see another man, hanging about halfway down from the main masts crows nest. As she turned a hoarse laugh came from behind her.

“Yep, it's been a long time since we had one as pretty as this one, Shandy. A long time.”

Emma felt a creeping revulsion rise in her as she took in the situation. The one called Shandy was dropping through the rigging with all the dexterity of a man who had spent his life at sea. The one called Unwin was making his way forward from her other side and she realised she had been caught in a crude pincer movement. She looked around her but she had her back to the Thames and there was nothing at hand to defend herself with.

She looked at them and decided that Unwin was the best bet for passing as he was only doing half the speed of the other man who was now halfway down the gangway that ran from the ship to the dockside. Emma set herself low to the ground and thrust herself forward in the same way she had when she had run track events for her university.

The man called Unwin was caught by surprise as she pushed passed him but he managed to catch her trailing leg with his crutch and Emma felt the searing pain of the dockside cobbles as they collided with her knees for a second time in five minutes. She forced herself to stand but she was only halfway up when she felt all the wind knocked out of her lungs by a sudden impact on her back. It became obvious within seconds that the impact was caused by one of the men as a pair of hands worked their way around her waist.

Had they managed to wrap their way around her arms at the same time then they may have got their way but as it was they were free and Emma managed to twist and thrust an elbow behind her before forcing her head backwards.
Her aim was good and she was rewarded with a howl as the grip around her loosened. She kicked out and found her target again, this time eliciting another howl. As she got up, she heard a scream from behind her but this was from further back and it was one of terror not pain.

“No, please, I'm sorry. We was only having a bit of fun.”

Emma turned to see the man called Shandy cowering on the floor and Rodolfo towering over him. She couldn't hear what he was saying but his eyes were glowering down at the crumpled form below. Her attention was dragged from them by the sound of groaning. Immediately in front of her Unwin was lying on the floor with both hands covering his nose. Emma felt the blood rush to her head and ran forward landing a well aimed kick directly between his legs. The howl that came from the man was several decibels higher than the previous one and she drew some satisfaction as tears start to roll down his cheeks. He tried to speak but was unable to get past the coughing and sobbing.

Emma heard another scream as Rodolfo lifted the man called Shandy off the dock floor and with a final curse threw him into the Thames. The screams followed him all the way in and Emma rushed across to see what had happened to him but had to stop before she followed him in.

“Emma, what brings you here, child? How did you know how to find me?”

“One of the residents told me.”

“Hmm…I always knew that this place would not last forever. Well that's how but it still doesn't answer why.”

Emma hesitated. She had all this planned in her head but now that she was standing in front of him, she didn't know where to start.

“We should get inside and when we do, you can tell me why it is that you are here.”

Rodolfo led Emma into the warehouse that Unwin
had used to hide himself whilst he had watched her. It was empty except for a set of ladders to the floor above. Rodolfo led her up and towards the back of the building. There Emma saw a table and chair as well as a bed. On the table was a scroll of parchment, a quill and a half-melted candle.

“Sit, child.”

Emma sat on the seat and waited for Rodolfo to stop pacing the floor. When he did, he turned and faced her.

“Now tell me, why would you risk the docks to find me.”

Emma struggled to find the words to explain. How would he react? Would he help or would he be like Father Eamon, a stickler for rules and etiquette? Somehow Emma doubted that.

“Rodolfo, I have a…favour to ask of you.”

Emma felt the familiar tingle of nerves in the backs of her hand as she waited for his response.

“Well I cannot say yay or nay until I know what it is, can I?”

Well at least he hadn't said no which was a relief but the next bit was the hard bit.

“Rodolfo, when we first met, I was in this realm but when we spoke afterwards I was in the blitz. How do you manage to travel between the realms?”

The question seemed to catch Rodolfo off guard and he paused before answering. “Why would you ask such a question, child?”

“It's been something I've been curious about since we spent that night in the department store.” Emma lied.

“No, no I think not. You would only ask such a question if it served a greater purpose.”

Emma groaned, had he seen through her that easily? How did she proceed from here? Well she might as well try to appeal to his better nature.

“I do have a reason, you are right but, please, could you tell me before I tell you why I'm asking?”

Rodolfo thought for a moment and Emma tried to read his expression but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Then he came to a decision.

“Would I be right in thinking that you have a theory to this?”

Emma felt a weight lift off her shoulders as he replied; maybe there was a chance after all.

“Well, err, from what I know you just disappeared and no one knew what happened to you. I'm guessing you didn't get here by dying and aren't restrained to one realm because of that.”

A half-smile spread across Rodolfo's face and he continued his pacing. “When Isabella disappeared, there was no reason for me to stay with the camp but I did. I decided to dedicate my life to try to understand what happened to her. It took me years but in that time I discovered many things that completely changed my perception of what it meant to be alive. I discovered forces at work that went way beyond what we had understood and I eventually managed to get an idea of what had happened to her and why.

“At the start I went back to Siena. I spent some time studying the ancient texts kept there. My eyes were opened to a great many things and, eventually, I realised I had to travel further to increase my understanding of what was being laid out in front of me. I set out for Rome, in the hope of studying at the Vatican library but on the way I was waylaid by men who tried to stop me. Poor fools, if they had known that in their efforts to kill me they were actually setting me free, then I am sure that they would have thought twice about it. I managed to escape them and knew that it was no longer safe for me in those lands so I went into
hiding. During my time in hiding, I heard rumours of a way into the afterlife that did not involve dying.

“Gypsies and travellers spoke of a cave that could be used to transfer between worlds. It took me years to track down the source of this rumour and it was the devils own job itself to find out the truth but when I did, I knew that I must find this cave. If the stories were correct then it was high up in the Carpathian Mountains and would require a superhuman effort to find.

“In the end I found it but it took me a further three years. When I got there, I spent six months preparing myself for the journey I was to undertake. I ate only berries and melt water until my body was nothing but skin and bone and then I set myself in a trance. A crevice opened up and I was shown a way into this world. What you see here is my spirit but because my body is still alive and my connection to it constant, I am able to travel to different realms the same way you travel back to the land of the living, all that I have to do is place myself in a particular area that I know is shielded from view in the realm I wish to travel to.

“Now I have kept my part of the bargain it is time for you to tell me why you have gone to all this trouble to hunt me down.”

Emma took a deep breath and went into the reason why she had come looking for him and why it was that she was determined to go after Taryn. When she was done, Rodolfo sat on the end of his bed. He rested his arms on his knees in the way that she had seen Father Eamon do on so many other occasions and stared at the wall before letting out a deep sigh.

“Emma, child, what you are suggesting is a fools errand. I understand your love for Taryn, she was your friend from childhood and those bonds are nigh impossible
to break but what you wish to do has never been done and even if you were to try it, Newgate Gaol is a fortress which cannot be easily breached and, if nothing else, you are destined for greater things. It would be madness to hand you to the enemy.”

Emma felt deflated but not defeated. She had hoped that Rodolfo would help her and there was no doubt that his participation would have made things a lot easier but as it was she would have to go it alone and think of a different plan.

“Well thank you. I won't waste any more of your time.” Emma got up and headed towards the ladder.

“Heed my words, Emma. Do not do this.”

“Don't do this? How can I not? Taryn's in there and I'm partly responsible. I'm going ahead with this with or without your help.”

Rodolfo grumbled under his breath. “You say the right words, child, but you know not of what you speak.

“What have you been told about Newgate Gaol?”

Emma went quiet. For all her planning she had never really considered what might face her if she was to get in.

Rodolfo's brow creased at Emma's hesitation. “Hmmph, I thought so. You remember I spoke of the Cado Angelus?”

Emma nodded.

“Well Newgate Gaol is their domain. From there they terrorise and subjugate all who are condemned to that place.”

Doubts started to creep in to Emma's mind. “If that's the case, why don't the guides kick them out?”

This brought an ironic smile in response. “Why indeed. Have you heard of the treaty of Cordoba?”

Emma nodded. “Father Eamon told me about it.”

“Yes but did he tell you that the treaty that was agreed to and that which was signed was different?”

“No.” Emma looked at Rodolfo, her doubt now replaced with confusion.

“I thought not. It is not surprising. To understand why, you must understand the circumstances surrounding the treaty signing.

“Whilst it was true that the Cado Angelus wished for a truce, it did not mean that was the end of their ambition.

“The night before the treaty signing, under cover of darkness, a Cado Angelus agent slipped into the signing chamber and made subtle changes to the wording. Nothing that would have been picked up should someone do a quick read through the following morning, but enough that once the treaty was signed the Cado Angelus turned the twilight plane in to the place you see today.

“There never used to be time limits to initiates stays in this plane. It used to be that they stayed here until they finished their tasks and then moved on. Time was irrelevant in this. Once the treaty was signed all that changed. The changing times you walk through, the creatures released after dark. All this is a result of the Cado Angelus' duplicity at the treaty signing and if they had their way this is how your old world would be as well.”

Emma went to ask a question but Rodolfo raised his hand.

“I have not got to the bit you must consider. The icing on their cake was Newgate Gaol. A clause in the treaty allowed them a small presence in the plane. Using this they took over Newgate Gaol and it is now what you see today.

“You ask why the guides do not kick them out? It is because they are barely strong enough to hold on to what they have now. Did you not see how far and wide they had to stretch to get enough people to fight the Soul Gorger?

“You may be on the right side, Emma, but that is no guarantee you are on the winning side.”

Emma mulled over Rodolfo's words. They brought clarity to her thought that had been missing before. Sitting on a hessian sack she worked through all the possibilities that her actions could have before standing back up.

“I understand everything you say and I realise this is going to be difficult but I'm not going to change my mind. I have to do this.”

Rodolfo looked like he might explode with frustration and went to argue back but this time it was Emma's turn to stop him. “My mind is made up. Will you help me?”

She turned and headed towards the ladder without waiting for an answer.

At the bottom Emma peered round the door looking for any evidence of the two men who had accosted her. There was none. The sun was waning outside but there was still time to make it back to the sanctuary before dark.

Rodolfo caught her up. “You are certain you will not be dissuaded from your foolhardy course?”

Emma turned to face him as she stepped outside. “Yes, absolutely.”

“Well do not do anything until you hear from me. I am not saying yes you understand but I must ponder upon this.”

Emma's face lit up, “thank you, thank you!”

“Aah!” Rodolfo waved her off with an exasperated look and headed back inside.

As Emma turned to head back to the sanctuary, she heard a final comment come from the warehouse. She couldn't be sure but it sounded like “Just like her!”

Emma stood in front of a red brick Victorian terrace looking up at the second floor. Samantha had rented a flat in it six months earlier, before she had walked out in front of the lorry. Its tall ceilings and period features had instantly struck a chord with her sister and she had signed the lease within days. Emma smiled as she remembered carrying boxes up to the flat and seeing the chaos that was synonymous with Sam as she walked through the front door.

The artist in her seemed to rail against the uniform lines of a tidy place and instead everything seemed at odds with everything else even though Emma was sure that Sam had probably spent hours working out where she wanted it all to go. Even as children it had always been Sam who had won the battle of wills when it came to tidying her room, with their mother eventually excepting a untidy status quo.

Now, as Emma waited patiently on the pavement, her mind drifted to all the times her sister had come home from school with paint in her hair and, worse, on her school uniform much to the disgust of her parents. Of course they didn't mind so much after that parents' evening when they had been told about their daughter's prodigious talent as an artist. From that day on, they
had spared no expense in their pursuit of every opportunity available to allow Sam to study and practise until she finally got accepted to University. After that came her studio in a warehouse on Cable Street, just to the east of the City of London and then her flat.

Emma looked down the street, wondering where Sam was. It was Saturday and she hated working on weekends, unless she was coming up to a deadline on a commission. They had been starting to come through for about eighteen months, ever since her work had been shown in an exhibition of emerging artists at the Whitechapel Gallery, but Saturday's were always ‘her days' and she would use the time to go to the gym and meet friends.

Emma knew she should be home soon and was starting to get fidgety. She had never been good at waiting for anything, so she breathed a sigh of relief as a beaten up old Clio turned in to the road, its dark blue paint doing little to disguise the dents and dinks in its bodywork. The car pulled into a bay outside of the house and Samantha got out. Emma felt her shoulders lose some of the weight that had settled on it in recent times. She watched as her sister got out and took the bags of food from the boot. She followed her up the path and waited behind her as Samantha struggled to open the front door with her hands full of shopping. As the door opened, Emma managed to slip in, keeping just far enough away from her sister to avoid direct contact.

Samantha entered the cold hallway and closed the door behind her. The floor was a tiled affair with a rug running down the middle and a solitary telephone sitting on a narrow table to the right. She wrestled with the bags as she made her way unsteadily upstairs, twisting at odd angles in an effort to ensure that they didn't burst, until she arrived at her front door with Emma in tow. Samantha put the
bags down and fished for the door key in her shoulder bag, pulling out a small collection of keys attached to a chain that finished with a picture of Samantha's pet cat, Dali.

Emma smiled as she remembered being introduced to the tabby kitten and the ribbing she had given Sam when she had told her what its name was. Dali was fully grown now and slunk round the door to meet Sam, but the instant he stood in the hallway; he froze and arched his back. Crouching down on his haunches, Dali let out a low hiss as he slowly scanned the landing.

“What's wrong, Dali?” Samantha looked down at the cat with a concerned look on her face. She turned and looked behind her but it was a small landing and it was obvious that she was the only one on it apart from her cat who was now working his way slowly towards Emma, sniffing the air as he went. As he got closer, Dali seemed to lose some of his aggression until he was almost at her feet. Emma went to step back but the cat did something that made her stop. It started purring, rose off his haunches and rolled over onto his back before playfully kicked his legs in the air, whilst looking at where Emma was standing.

Emma looked down at the cat, frozen to the spot. There was no way he could see her but he knew she was there none the less and that left her feeling spooked as she watched Dali work his way along the floor.

Samantha's face was now one of amusement. “Come on in you stupid cat, I've got something for you.”

Dali rolled back on to his feet and followed Emma into the flat as she once again slipped passed her sister.

“Come on you, I'll get you some lunch.”

Samantha placed the bags on the floor and pulled out a sachet of cat food. She ripped it open before pouring the contents in to a small plastic bowl and putting it on the floor. Dali, however, wasn't interested in the food. He
chose instead to watch Emma contentedly as she looked around the flat.

Emma winced as she saw the pictures of her and Lisa on the mantelpiece. They were taken when she was in the sixth form with Lisa three years below her. It was the last picture of Lisa taken before the accident and she had kept one as well which she had treasured, keeping it in her purse right up to the day she had died. Nothing much seemed to have changed until she got to the windows. The dowdy red curtains that had come with the flat had been replaced with a set of wooden slatted blinds and for a second Emma felt a sense of betrayal. Samantha had moved on, life had moved on. But as soon as it was there it was gone, as Samantha's body language told Emma that she was anything but over her older sister's death. Her movements were leaden and there was a resigned air about her that Emma hadn't noticed before.

Samantha cleared the shopping away before putting the kettle on. She opened a copy of a magazine that sat on the work surface and flicked listlessly through it, waiting for the water to boil. When the steam came to a head, she took a mug from a cupboard and threw a teabag into it before taking a carton of milk from the fridge. The water bubbled and frothed over the teabag and Samantha swore as she splashed her hand.

When she was done, she took the mug of tea and sat on a couch placed to take maximum advantage of the early morning sun. Samantha stared blankly out of the window, alone with her thoughts. Except she wasn't alone and it was all Emma could do not to sit next to her only surviving sister and hug her.

Emma knew what she had to do and she hated herself for it but it was the reason why she was here and she only had limited time. She took a couple of deep breathes but
her emotions were getting the better of her and she had to gulp hard before she could continue.

Take a look at the letter, Sam. Take a look at the letter you found in my bedroom.

Emma forced herself to look hard at Samantha but it was no use, she couldn't focus. Her heart pounded hard as she watched her sister suffer and she knew that it would be impossible to do anything but she had to try.

“Come on, Sam, please. Look at the letter.”

Emma walked around the flat, forcing herself to get a grip whilst Dali looked on from Samantha's side, torn between consoling his mistress and investigating the unknown yet strangely familiar presence that was now walking towards the kitchen.

Emma turned back to her sister who hadn't moved from the seat. She walked over and looked hard at a spot just above her eyes.

Sam, you want to look at the letter you found in the bedroom. You have a burning curiosity to read it
.

Sam didn't respond and Emma looked at her sister in exasperation.

“C'mon, Sam. Don't make this any harder than it has to be.”
Read the letter!

This time Sam put her mug down and reached for her shoulder bag, from which she extracted a crumpled envelope. Emma's heart leapt as she watched her sister trace the outline of the envelope with her right index finger. She worked it loose at one corner and then tore it open before pulling out the single sheaf of paper.

Emma looked on as Samantha took in the contents of the letter. She had written it five years earlier but every word was as fresh in her mind as if she had only just put the pen down. It was as if nothing had changed since that June afternoon and yet everything was different now
and it had brought her here, to her sisters flat, in the hope of redemption.

Only now, as she watched Samantha reading the letter, she couldn't be sure what she was hoping for redemption from. The constant threat of failure seemed to regress in the face of redeeming herself in her father's eyes and for the first time in an age that seemed a possibility.

Samantha started to cry as she continued to read and Emma felt the hot welt of tears in her own eyes. She watched as Sam read and reread the letter before placing it on the coffee table in front of her. Emma stepped back from her sister in a vain effort to give her some privacy.

“I'm sorry about this Sam but I need to do this.”
Take the letter to dad. It's really important that you do this now.

Samantha picked up the letter but then put it back down. Emma tried again but it was no use, she couldn't focus and Samantha was in turmoil after reading it. When Emma tried to plant another suggestion, it became too much for Samantha and she threw the now-empty mug across the room only to watch it smash against the wall and fall to the floor.

Emma looked on in desperation as Samantha got up and reached for her jacket.

“No, Sam, please don't leave, not without the letter.”

But it was no good. Samantha grabbed her bag and scooped up the keys as she headed for her front door.

Emma felt a crushing sense of failure as Samantha raced down the stairs and headed out of the house. She only stopped when she got to the car. There she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

“Sam, please go back, pick up the letter.”

Samantha got in the car where, after struggling with her keys, she forced it into reverse and shot into the road
behind. After a second of stillness, the car hurtled forward and raced off east, leaving Emma in its wake.

Emma was left standing on the pavement trying to cope with all the emotions that were now coming to the surface. She looked up and screamed at the sky. She had come here to finish her task but instead had managed to leave her sister in an even more confused state than she had been before. If anything it was even less likely that she would pass the letter on now.

For all she had done in getting this far, it felt to Emma like she wasn't going to get any further and now, as she watched the car turn right and disappear out of sight, it felt like she had already failed.

Had Emma not been so pre-occupied with her thoughts about Samantha's reactions to the letter, she would probably have seen the shadow that slowly enlarged to her right as she walked off London Bridge. As it was her heart nearly flew out of her mouth as a hand was placed firmly on her shoulder and she was dragged sharply backwards into an alleyway.

Emma's senses returned and she started to kick and bite but the grip just got firmer as she was lifted off her feet.

“Quiet, child, do you want the whole realm to know I am here?”

Rodolfo's voiced hissed in her right ear and a wave of relief swept over Emma as she let her body relax. His grip loosened as they entered a bakery. He stepped back and Emma turned around to see a man whose face was fixed in a dark mask.

“Are you still intent on your action?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Foolish child, you have no idea what you are getting yourself into. I had hoped a few days reflection would have caused you to see the folly of your actions.”

Emma felt a horrible churning in her stomach. Did this mean that he wasn't going to help after all? How would she get Taryn out if not with his help? She daren't approach Father Eamon; he would go through the roof if he found out what she was planning.

“All I've been thinking about is how I'm going to get her out, nothing else. I'm determined to go ahead with this, regardless of whether you're helping me or not.”

As Emma's eyes adjusted to the lower light in the shop, she became aware of the tears in Rodolfo's clothes and the bruises and scratches on his face. These marks were fresh and could only have been made in the previous couple of days.

“What happened to you?”

Emma's question was met with a grunt. “'Tis not your concern, child. I had a minor disagreement with a few people who, lets just say, weren't too keen on my presence in the realm. It happens every now and again.”

Fresh blood seeped from a gash on his left cheek. Emma went to dab it with her sleeve but Rodolfo waved her off. “Ignore it. ‘Tis nothing compared to what they got. This sort of thing goes on all the time, more so since you arrived. They are scared of you, Emma. Scared of what you bring with you.”

“What I bring with me, what do I bring with me?”

“The end of all things, certainly as they know it. Should you ascend, then the balance of power, so carefully looked after by both sides for nearly half a millennia, will change.”