The Secrets of Life and Death (20 page)

‘So you … did what?’

She took a deep breath, nibbled a fingernail. She was exhausted, but somehow Felix radiated energy. ‘Maggie drew the sigils on her, there in the alley. Then we carried her to my car, which has the same symbols drawn in circles.’

She could still feel the revulsion of seeing the girl’s white skin revealed in the light of the torch, veins inching like a giant red spider from the abscess on her leg, pus oozing. She stank of drink. It looked as if Carla’s last choice had been to put herself down like a sick dog.

‘And you have these same symbols? The ones from the medals.’

‘Because I was going to die, yes. Take the next right.’

Felix peered at the road ahead. ‘Maybe this is what Kelley was writing about. He was asked to help someone whose life might be saved by some magical means.’

‘I suppose.’ She had never been able to decipher much of Kelley’s cryptic handwriting.

He frowned at her, but at least he didn’t seem angry any more. ‘Why? Why would you save someone you didn’t even know existed?’

She smiled slightly at him, wondering how much disbelief he could suspend. ‘People believe that individuals living on borrowed time have magical healing powers.’ She shrugged. ‘Imagine chemo with no side effects, no baldness, no sickness.’

‘Is that why you were saved?’

‘Maggie had a baby with leukaemia. Who is now healthy and safe, thanks to me.’

‘I’m taking you home. And then I’m going to call this Maggie, just to make sure she will look after you.’

She turned to face him, studying his dark silhouette as they passed the village street lights. ‘There’s more. Can I really trust you?’

‘You can trust me to try and do the right thing.’ His voice was soft, and as he glanced across in the dim light she could see his eyes gleam. ‘Is this the right road?’

‘It’s up here.’ After a quarter of a mile Jack pointed at the long hedge. ‘The cottage is there, that’s the gate.’

‘Nice. Right in the country,’ he murmured, as he slowly drove the car over the gravel, towards the cattle grid.

‘Wait!’ Jack put a hand over his, and he braked.

‘What is it?’ he asked, in a low voice.

‘I don’t know. It just seems … quiet.’ She looked through the brambles at the side of the house, in darkness, and tried to remember if she left the kitchen light on.
Something’s different …

‘Drive over the cattle grid.’

As the headlights swung around the backyard, they picked up bunches of feathers, black shapes on the concrete … birds, scattered and torn. Jack pushed open the door and her boots rattled onto the yard. As her eyes adjusted to the brightness she realised it was strewn with dead rooks. She lifted a wing, a mouthful of bile rising in her throat.

Felix came up behind her. ‘What is it?’

‘My birds … the rookery.’ She choked, and looked back at the trees, the silhouetted branches emptied of their mounds of sticks. ‘They’re destroyed. What could do this?’

Felix took the wing from her fingers, and dropped it. ‘Let’s get inside. Where are your keys?’

‘Oh my God!’ She leapt forward, feeling the door handle. At least it was still locked. She dragged her keys from her pocket and fumbled with them. Her breath was coming in little sobs, and she couldn’t get enough air. Light from the car spilled into the kitchen as the door swung open. She reached in to flick the switch, but the bulb didn’t come on.

‘Stay here,’ he said, as he brushed past her. ‘The power must be out.’ He stumbled in, and swore as he hit something. ‘Where’s the fuse box?’

‘Cupboard …’ She leaned against the doorjamb, trying to catch her breath. The wedge of light from the doorway showed an unfamiliar landscape. ‘Corner of the kitchen, under the stairs.’

More swearing, then the fluorescent bulb flickered on, illuminating more of the yard beyond the doorway. More black feathers, spots of scarlet blood, gaping beaks.
Oh God, Sadie, Ches. Why can’t I hear them?

She turned towards the kitchen.

Everything lighter than the dresser had been overturned. The table and the chairs were tumbled, two of them broken. The elm rocker, at least, was intact, although it was upside down. Parts of the floor were calf-deep in shattered crockery, torn papers and the contents of smashed jars. The range stank of soot, as if it had been snuffed out. The ceiling was cracked, there were holes in the plaster on the walls down to the cob.

‘Let me help.’ Felix held a hand out as she slid across the floor, and they clung together in the rubble, skating towards the living-room door.

It took a few kicks from Felix’s shoe to clear the floor enough to scrape it open.

Jack pushed ahead of him, into what remained of the front room. There was a breeze coming through the smashed panes in the window, but even so, it felt unnaturally cold and still. The furniture had been flung into the corners of the room, and covered in pages of books. The carpet was twisted up onto one side of the room, and the chain that had restrained the girl was gone. The wall showed through cracks in the plaster. The bulb was broken, and the only light had spilled in from the kitchen.

Jack stumbled towards the edge of the room, looking for Sadie under the debris, among the shadows. ‘Ches!’ She could feel tears pouring down her face. ‘Felix, help me find them.’

‘Who?’

‘My dog, and Sadie …’ She started pulling at one of the tumbled sofas.

Felix was standing over by the panelling door, frowning. ‘Can you hear that?’

As she held her breath, halting the sobs that were suffocating her, she could hear the faint whining of the dog. She fell to her knees in front of the concealed door, dragging the wreckage away. After a moment, Felix pushed her aside, and cleared the floor in a few sweeps. Jack pressed the hidden catch, and it clicked open, the sound sharp in the dark room. The door swung out, and the lantern lit the white face of the girl, curled on the bed, clutching the dog around his neck. Ches whined and leapt, the momentum dragging the girl forward even as her eyes rolled back.

‘It is said that the castle at Csejte, one of the smallest strongholds of the Nádasdy’s estates, was given as a wedding gift to his countess, Elizabeth Báthory. Here, servants loyal to the couple will do their bidding, even to the point of mortal sin. They are, it seems, more afraid of the Báthory family than the fires of hell.’

Edward Kelley
1 December 1585
Csejte Castle

Dee and I were shown to separate rooms, and a succession of solemn maids entered with tall cans of hot water. One elderly woman indicated that I should remove my ruined clothing and sit in a wooden tub she had carried in with the help of a guard. I was too tired to argue, although I did try and keep my linens. The woman prevailed.

I sat, shivering and naked, and the maid began to pour scented water over my head. I lifted heavy arms to soap myself, washing off the stink of the fear I had suffered as well as the dirt. I was then wrapped in a rough towel, and rubbed down like a horse. The old woman fussed and muttered. I fear they were not flattering comments, as the guard laughed several times. I was handed a length of cloth instead of good hose and a cod, and had to be dressed by the woman in the loincloth, much like the swaddling of a baby. Then I was given heavy trousers, such as a peasant in England might wear, and a fine shirt, with much embroidery about the neck and with silver points on the laces. Finally the woman presented me, on one knee, with a long robe such as the nobles wore.

‘
Dolman
.’ She said, smoothing the brown fabric. Then she stumbled in Latin. ‘Nádasdy. The
dolman
of Lord Nádasdy.’

The garment almost swept the floor. I was then fed a hot stew, which I started to fall asleep over, and lay down upon the bed to rest.

When I awoke, it was evening already. Feeling somewhat restored, I slid off the high bed, put on thick woollen stockings and my own, cleaned boots. Somewhat guilty of the neglect of my master, I looked around for his quarters.

A small door beside the fire was open a crack, and I pushed it further. Although dressed in a nightshirt and wrapped in a blanket, Dee was seated in a chair looking at a large map spread over the table.

‘Edward!’ He coughed into his hand, then shook his head. ‘Are you well?’

‘I am, but are you?’ I had never seen him ill before, but now there was a heavy-eyed, flushed look about him. ‘Shall I burn some pastilles? Do you need a physician to bleed you?’

He waved away the notion. ‘A quotidian fever, no doubt, from travelling in such wet conditions. I was aware of it for several days, good food and rest will surely resolve it. Look, Edward, this map shows what I believe must have been our journey.’

I had never met a man so casual about his health, yet I had known others fall into a decline and die from less. ‘Master Dee—’

‘Edward.’ There was a sharpness in his voice, which softened as he continued. ‘Your eyesight is better than mine. Can you see the name of the castle?’

I struggled with the unfamiliar lettering, very ornate and tiny. I had heard the name as ‘Chay-tay’ and struggled with the Hungarian spelling. ‘Here, I think. C-s-j-e is pronounced “Chay”, is it not?’ The castle overlooked the main road to the south, and the Turkish occupation. He leaned over, looking at the peak indicated by my finger.

‘You would think the countess would be safer further north,’ he said. ‘We can be no more than forty or so leagues from the Turkish occupation. A good place for Nádasdy to base his military forces, I suppose.’

A knock on the main door was followed by two maidservants, one carrying a vast wooden tray of savoury foods. The women bowed to us, and seemed anxious to go. I caught the door as they left, holding it open. There were no guards outside, so I left it ajar.

Dee looked at the food, and brushed his shaking hand over his brow. ‘Do you know, Edward, I think I will go to bed now.’

‘Let me get a doctor, please.’ I put a hand under his elbow and helped him limp to the bed.

‘Nonsense.’ He sat on the side of the bed and swung his legs in. ‘I shall be better when I have rested. I am not a young man, you know. Mull me some ale, and I shall have a little bread.’

I looked around and found a sturdy poker. Having wiped it on a napkin, I placed it in the fire to warm, and cut Dee a soft inner slice from the small, round loaf. It was dark, and smelled bitter but the crust tasted very good. I dusted the poker off, and plunged it into a tall flagon of ale.

‘There. I shall be better in no time.’ He waved at the table. ‘And the big, leather-bound book next to the map, I think.’ He took a small bite of the bread. He placed the food and drink on a chair beside the bed, and took the volume I offered. Then, with as little attention to me as if I had already gone, he opened the pages and leaned back against the pillows. As I left, I could hear his rattling chest, wheezing like that of a dying man.

Jack clambered down into the cell and gathered the collapsed girl up in her arms. Sadie’s skin was icy, and Jack wasn’t sure she was breathing. Felix followed, and crouched beside them.

‘Is she … ?’ He touched the girl’s neck. ‘Let’s get her upstairs. Let me have her, Jack.’ He prised her fingers off the girl, his hands warm.

Jack followed them up the steps, and was relieved to hear Sadie start retching as she got to the gap between the circles.

‘Bring her here, in the middle of the room.’ Jack slumped onto the debris in the middle of the circle, holding out her arms for Sadie, who sank against her without speaking. As Jack clung to her, she realised the girl stank, and pulled back a little, grimacing.

‘It was Ches.’ Sadie’s whisper barely reached Jack. ‘He got scared and shat himself.’

Jack looked around the dark living room, seeing the dog’s eyes gleaming from the corner, behind the tumbled sofa. She whistled for him, and he slunk forward on his belly, whining. He fitted into the two of them, licking both faces, until Jack told him to stop. She could hear Felix in the kitchen, opening things, banging around. He came back in, and stretched over their heads to replace the bulb. This time, when he flicked the switch, the room lit up.

He stared at them, and then at Sadie. He was shocked, Jack realised. He looked around the room with wild eyes.

‘You’re Sadie Williams. The girl the police are looking for.’

Sadie looked at Felix, then back at Jack. ‘Who is he?’ Her hand clutched Jack’s sleeve. ‘Is he the police?’

‘My name is Felix Guichard,’ he answered. ‘I was helping Jack. What happened here?’

Sadie’s eyes widened as she looked at the devastation in the room. ‘There was this insane storm, inside the house.’

‘What?’ Jack pushed off the floor, lifting Sadie to her feet.

Felix hefted one of the sofas up, and eyed the exposed boards of the floor, the circle of symbols inscribed in black.

‘Put it right in the middle of the circle,’ Jack said. He set it down, and held out a hand to Sadie. After a moment’s pause, she took it, and climbed onto the sofa. Jack had to restrain the dog, his feet covered in shit, from crawling after her.

‘I’m going to clean up the dog. You,’ she pointed at Sadie, ‘stay put and keep an eye on Felix. If you think he’s going to do anything stupid – like call the police – scream the place down.’

She grabbed the dog by his collar and dragged him towards the stairs. The carpet was hanging loose on the bottom few steps, pulled out from antique stair rods by whatever had trashed the house. She managed to half lift, half pull the dog into the old claw-footed bath, even though it made her reel with dizziness for a few moments. She ran a few inches of warm water into it and added a squeeze of dog shampoo. She sponged him down in the pine-scented steam, while he wagged his tail and tried to lick her face. She couldn’t find any major injuries, but his mouth was cut and his tongue had purple marks on it, as if he’d bitten it. She roughly towelled him off and let him go. He shot downstairs in the puppyish euphoria that always took over him after he had a bath.

Jack paused to wash her hands, and looked into the mirror. She was shocked. Her eyes were red in a white face. Her skin seemed sucked back onto the bones of her skull, accentuating the swollen purple scrape down the side of her face. When was the last time she had eaten properly? The truth was, she had lost her appetite months ago. Her hands were still blue, despite being in the warm water.