I, Coriander (13 page)

I sat on a step near the frozen horse trough and wondered what to do. My fingers were numb, my feet hurt with the cold, my breath left a ghostly imprint on the air.

‘W
ondrous fair!’ said Medlar. ‘I have been looking for you.’

I looked up. I was so cold that I felt neither pleased nor sad to see him. Everything in me was frozen. Medlar wrapped his cloak round my shoulders and took me up into a room above the stables. Here a fire was lit. The floorboards were bare and the only furnishing was a table and two chairs. I sat down.

‘Where have you been?’ I said. ‘Why did you leave me?’

Medlar did not reply. Instead, he sat me by the fire and rubbed my hands together to get them warm.

‘I have to take you back,’ he said.

‘Take me back? Where?’ I asked.

‘Back to your home, back to London.’

‘No,’ I said, pulling my hands away from his. ‘If you do that it will be the end of me.’

‘I can assure you it will not.’ Medlar picked up a pan from the fire and poured out two glasses of a warm spicy drink that seemed to flow straight down into my feet and fingers. He lit his lantern and the light bobbed there, a small moon in the smoky room.

‘Who are you?’ I asked.

He smiled at me. ‘Who am I?’ he repeated to himself, stroking his beard. ‘A good question, and one for which there must be an answer. I am many things. I am a traveller. I am the King’s magician. I am the searcher of shadows. I was your mother’s teacher, and many moons ago I met your father on the London road. I can answer only a fragment of your question but, alas, it will have to do.’

‘It was you,’ I said then, remembering my father’s story about meeting a man who had been robbed.

‘I liked your father,’ said Medlar. ‘He did not wish, like other mortals, for things to be better. He accepted his fate with grace, and still had the heart to care for others. It was I who brought your mother to the London road. I thought that love and fate would do the rest, and I was right.’

I must have been staring at him open-mouthed, for he said, ‘Drink up, and you will feel better.’

I sipped and felt warmth once more flood over me.

‘Why did you not help Tycho?’

‘If I had done so, Rosmore would have known I was there and all would have come to naught. You had the power to help, and you did,’ said Medlar.

‘But I am just a blue light,’ I said. ‘I have no power.’

‘There is much you do not understand,’ said Medlar. ‘I made sure you were a blue light, to protect you.’ He sighed. ‘Did your mother tell you anything of this world?’

‘Nothing but fairy stories,’ I said.

‘Surely she must have told you something of her childhood,’ said Medlar.

I shook my head. ‘No.’

I could see my reply disappointed him. ‘Ah well, there’s a thing,’ he said sadly, pulling at the knot in his beard.

I did not like the idea that I knew nothing of my mother’s past, so I said, ‘I did see her shadow.’

‘You did?’ said Medlar. ‘Oh, wondrous fair! When?’

‘A long time ago, just after she died. It was in an ebony casket in my father’s study.’

‘What did it look like?’ asked Medlar, his eyes never leaving mine.

‘It was silvery, like gossamer. I never saw it again.’

‘The shadow must be found and returned,’ said Medlar.

‘I do not understand. Why do you want it?’

‘Your mother’s shadow was the cause of much rejoicing, for a shadow that holds the glory of everlasting light is a rare shadow indeed, and one with a power so great that it can be used to do great and terrible evil. I know that the Queen is searching for it, and if she were to find it she would become all-powerful. It is now unattached and vulnerable. It has fallen into the hands of mortals who have played with it for their own gain, and in doing so have let a chink of human time into our world. You have seen proof of it in our dear King, and now in his summer palace.’

My thoughts were in such a whirl, and there was so much I wanted to know, yet all I could think to ask was ‘Will I see my mother again?’

‘No,’ said Medlar gravely. ‘That cannot be. She chose to die in your world. We have no power over death there.’

He pulled his chair near me and took my hand. ‘I must ask you to try and find the shadow.’

‘Me? No!’ I said, terrified. ‘I am not brave, I am not bold, I am not fearless.’

‘At the wedding,’ said Medlar, ‘I deliberately left you to your own devices. I wanted to find out how much of your mother is in you. You have the heart of a lion, Coriander. You are brave enough to go into the Queen’s bedchamber, bold enough to stroke a white charger, fearless enough to save a prince.’

I sat there lost for words, trying to make sense of all that had befallen me. I still found it hard to believe that this strange land was where my mother came from. Why had she never told me about it? I wondered. Why had she chosen death rather than return here?

Medlar said nothing as he saw the tears roll down my face. He leant down, picked up a linen-wrapped package from under his chair, and handed it to me.

Inside it were the silver shoes.

So many strange things had happened, and this still seemed the strangest of them all. I stared at them. I had forgotten quite how beautiful and dainty they were. I held them up to the light of the candle, where they glittered like glass.

‘Coriander, these shoes were made for you and you alone,’ said Medlar. ‘There is no way that they would not have found you. They were made to grow with you. Unbeknown to me, a spell was put on them. Your mother managed to undo part of it, but not all. Now you may have them back.’

I picked them up. They were as soft and as light as swans’ feathers.

‘Once you put them on,’ said Medlar, ‘you will be back in the chest.’

A hunting horn sounded. It tore at the silence outside, cutting it like a knife. We both rushed over to the window and pulled back the wooden shutters. It was dark outside; snow was still falling and the silver birch trees were outlined blue against the black background. Between them galloped the great white horse, a fox running beside him. I could see the outline of the huntsmen and their dogs.

I knew then that Queen Rosmore had done her worst. Tycho had become a fox.

I felt a sharp pain in my middle finger and saw that I must have pricked it on the shutters, for three drops of blood fell into the freshly fallen snow. Red rubies, I thought, on white velvet.

A cry of ‘Tallyho!’ rang out through the landscape.

‘If I find the shadow, will Tycho be saved?’ I asked.

Medlar nodded.

I put my toes into the shoes.

‘Tell me one last thing before I go. What was the name of King Nablus’s daughter?’

And he told me what my heart already knew.

‘Eleanor.’

A
nd so the third part of my tale is told, and with it another candle goes out.

PART FOUR

18

The Terrible Scream

I
woke in utter darkness, curled up, unable to move. I knew myself to be back inside the chest. I could hear muffled voices and then a loud bang as the study door hit hard against the wall.

‘No you don’t! Out of my way, sir! This is an honourable God-fearing house. You have no right to come barging in here,’ said the unmistakable voice of Arise Fell.

‘If you do not let me in I shall call a constable. I have reason to believe that the body of Coriander Hobie is locked in a chest here,’ said a gruff voice I did not know.

‘Captain Bailey,’ said a voice I recognised as that of Master Thankless, ‘that must be the chest my apprentice talked about.’

Then I heard a small voice that sounded like Hester’s.

‘It be that chest, sir, she be locked in.’

‘Quiet, you numskull. Keep that tongue from flapping in your head.’ This was Maud.

‘Open that chest immediately,’ said the gruff voice.

‘I shall not. It is not my chest and a preacher may not go into other men’s property unless that property is offensive to the Lord.’

‘I have heard that you have already got rid of many of Master Hobie’s possessions. Now, open the chest.’

I knocked on the side of the chest with all my might. I must get out and find the shadow and save Tycho. There was no time to lose. I would have to explain all later.

‘I am in here,’ I shouted. ‘Let me out!’

There was a terrible scream from Maud.

‘Oddsfish! She is alive!’ said Master Thankless.

‘Hold on, we shall have you out in a minute,’ said the gruff voice. ‘Come, Master Thankless, let us find some tools. How could any man do such a thing? Call yourself a preacher!’

I heard the study door shut behind them.

I could hear Maud whimpering.

‘Oooh, Arise, it is a ghost come back to haunt us! That girl’s bones are going to sing and we shall be done for.’

‘Quiet, keep your voice down, woman. Listen to me. We must keep to our story. She ran away. We thought she had gone off with Mistress Danes and drowned. Unbeknownst to us, by the use of witchcraft and devilry, she got back into the house and hid in the chest.’

‘How then is it locked?’ said Maud.

‘Because the Good Lord saw fit to lock it.’

‘Do you think it be her bones, Arise, that have been knocking in there?’

‘No, woman, I do not.’

‘I told you, you should have done what the lady asked while you had the chance,’ said Maud. ‘You should have tipped her body in the river and let the rats finish her off. If she was dead, we would have none of this trouble.’

‘Be quiet, woman,’ snapped Arise. ‘You are no help. Let me think. We must keep our wits about us.’

‘It is the Devil coming for us, Arise, and I can smell them gallows at Tyburn,’ said Maud. ‘You had better make those pretty words in the Bible work in our favour, for they will surely find putrid flesh and bones rotting in that chest.’

‘Hold your feeble tongue. Let me do the talking.’

I heard people rush back into the room and with great urgency break open the lock and lift the lid.

For a moment, the light was so blinding that I could not see my rescuers. The room went very quiet. I stood up but I did not get out of the chest, for I was unsure of my feet.

Then I saw the familiar face of Master Thankless.

‘Oh Master Thankless, I am so glad to see you!’ I said.

‘I am mighty pleased that you are alive,’ said the tailor, ‘and mighty puzzled by what has been going on here. Nothing adds up, no, it does not.’

‘You do not know me, mistress,’ said the gruff voice, ‘but I am Captain Bailey. I sailed on one of your father’s ships. A kinder and more honourable gentleman I have yet to meet.’

Then I remembered my father.

‘Do you know where he is?’ I asked.

‘I know he is alive, but of his whereabouts I cannot tell you,’ said Captain Bailey.

My eyes were now used to the light and I could see that the room, by some strange magic, had shrunk in size. So too had Maud, for if my eyes did not deceive me I was taller than she was. I was nearly as tall as Arise Fell and only a head shorter than the sea captain. How this could be I had no idea, though the effect of my appearance on everyone in the room was of complete disbelief. If it had not been for Hester I would have taken more note of their surprise, but the sight of her crumpled frame leaning against the wall gave me such a jolt that for a moment I was not even sure if it was she. She looked so thin and her eyes were hollow and her skin pale.