All Good Things…

So, with yesterday’s post, the final chapter of The Last Knight closes the first adventure of Alexander Crowe.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you have been reading along as I serialised my “magnificent octopus” and should any of you wish to provide your thoughts, feedback or comment on anything you felt did or didn’t work, please feel free to do so.

Whilst I have started on the follow-up to The Last Knight, currently entitled House of Crows, I won’t be posting this until it is completed.

However, those who have enjoyed Alex’s adventures will not have to wait until then, as I DO have a short tale set a week or so after the events of The Last Knight, in which Alex has a Close Encounter of the Festive Kind. This should be up on here by the end of the week.

And if you have enjoyed The Last Knight, be sure to tell your friends, family, colleagues and anyone you happen to know who works in the publishing industry…

Well, it’s got to be worth a try, right?

Chapter XXXII – Second Chances

After floating for an indeterminate time in warm, featureless darkness, I could feel a slight tugging, as though my body was reeling my mind back in from wherever it currently was.  

I initially resisted, as I was genuinely scared as to what would confront me when I finally opened my eyes. I appeared to have all of my memories intact, but that might just mean that everything I had experienced had merely been a construct of my subconscious mind and I would wake up back in my adult body, in the future I believed I had left behind. 

Which was a depressing thought, because it would mean that everything that I had experienced and done whilst there was completely worthless.  

As I surfaced from unconsciousness, I began to sense my body, which felt heavy and numb. However, I couldn’t feel any pain from my leg, which I fervently hoped was because I was dosed up with painkillers, rather than returning to a body whose leg had never been broken in the first place. 

I knew that at some point I would have to open my eyes, but for the time being I was content to keep them closed, existing like Schrödinger’s Cat in neither one state nor another. 

However, a couple of things prevented me from remaining like this.  

Firstly, my bladder was indicating that as some point in the very near future, it would need to be emptied, unless I wanted to lie in a pool of my own urine. Secondly, my ears had detected a noise close by, which sounded like the pages of a book being turned. 

Whilst I vaguely recalled that St. Peter was supposed to look up your name in a book before allowing you admission to Heaven, I seem to remember that having left your mortal form behind you were no longer subject to bodily functions, so unless there was a public toilet just outside the Pearly Gates, I was fairly certain that I wasn’t dead. 

‘I appreciate that you have only just regained consciousness, Mr Crowe,’ said a male voice that seemed somewhat familiar, ‘but there are important matters we need to discuss before I allow those waiting outside to enter.’ 

As whoever this man was knew I was awake, I really had no choice but to open my eyes and discover what my current situation was. With a feeling of trepidation, I forced open my gummy eyes and looked around. 

I appeared to be lying in a bed in a high-ceilinged room that I did not recognise. Light streamed in from several tall, arched windows positioned at the foot of the bed. Given the quality of the light, I estimated that it was mid-morning, but I had no way of knowing for sure.  

I raised my arms from where they had been lying on the bedspread, noting that they were the slim arms of my teenaged self, and there, encircling my right wrist, were the dull, grey links of the bracelet that was the Vorpal Sword in its passive form. 

I felt a wave of relief wash over me.  

It would appear that my mind had not been wiped from existence, as I had theorised might happen, and I remained as I had been prior to the point in which reality was due to be overwritten. 

I looked over to my right, where the voice had come from and was surprised to see that the owner of the voice was the King, who was perched on a wooden chair, a familiar book spread across his lap – my copy of the Leabhar Scáthanna. 

He noticed my gaze and gave me a wry smile. 

‘As you have been asleep for some time, I needed something to occupy myself until you regained consciousness,’ he said, looking down at the book, ‘And whilst I have heard of the Leabhar Scáthanna, this is the first time I have actually seen a copy, so I couldn’t resist taking a look.’ 

He carefully placed the book on the floor beside the chair, then leaned forward, a frown upon his face. 

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked. 

‘Um…’ I gave this some thought before answering, ‘Not too bad, I think. I don’t seem to be experiencing any pain from my leg, which I’m assuming is because I’ve been given something for it.’ Then I remembered to whom I was speaking, ‘Er… your Majesty.’ 

‘I believe that Dr Stone has reset your leg and dosed you with the appropriate medication,’ said the King, eyes twinkling, ‘although you do not appear to be one of her favourite students, for some reason…’ 

As I had been recovered from Temple Island, returned to the college, and received medical treatment AND it appeared to be mid-morning, at least nine hours must have passed since the events of the (possibly) previous evening. 

As you’ve probably gathered by now, I don’t like not knowing what’s going on, and wanted to question the King extensively, so I could fill in the gaps. However, as I wasn’t sure how much the King knew and what my current status was, i.e. how much trouble I was in, I chose to ask a question that I knew he would definitely answer. 

‘Where’s Penny? Is she alright?’ I asked. 

‘Given the extensive property damage you caused last night and the numerous college rules that you have broken, I find it interesting that your first question relates to the condition of my daughter,’ said the King, ‘However, I am unsurprised, as having spoken to both your teachers and your friends, it does appear that you have a tendency to put others before yourself. To answer your question, Penny is currently in her room and whilst a little battered and bruised, physically, she appears to be fine. What lasting effects the trauma she suffered last night will have on her remains to be seen, but she has been asking after you, as she was concerned when you lapsed into unconsciousness, which would suggest that she is better than could be expected.’ 

He paused, marshalling his thoughts. 

‘Had you not intervened, I could have lost her,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion, ‘Penny’s mother, my wife, passed away a number of years ago and had I lost Penny too, I’m not sure what I would have done. But you would know all about that, having lost your own wife…’ 

My wife? How did he know that? 

‘Yes, Mr Crowe, I am aware of your… unique situation,’ continued the King, ‘When I questioned Miss Morgan, the tale she told was, in parts, frankly quite unbelievable. However, it was clear that she believed it was true and, given the nature of the situation, I took it upon myself to verify this information using Visum memoria. Whilst generally this kind of intrusion is considered… impolite, I felt that the situation warranted it.’ 

‘Ah, I see…’ I said, ‘So, what happens now? Is it off to the Tower for me, to be questioned by serious-looking men in suits? Or to a research facility, to be prodded and probed?’ 

The King looked startled by this question. 

‘Why would you think that?’ he asked. 

‘Well, in my current state, I shouldn’t exist,’ I said, ‘I’m an anomaly, a time-displaced consciousness, from a reality that is no longer going to be. My head is filled with knowledge of that reality – doesn’t that mean I’m a security risk? Wouldn’t the Order of Vulcan want to get their hands on me and extract this information for their use?’ 

The King considered this, then smiled. 

‘I understand your concerns, Mr Crowe, but I really don’t think that is the case,’ he said, ‘From viewing your memories, I believe that in the reality you come from, you have a device called a “fridge,” which provides the same functions as the iceboxes we have here, correct?’ 

I nodded. 

‘So, were you provided with the necessary components and tools, could you construct one of these “fridges”?’ he asked. 

‘Er… no,’ I said, ‘That would be beyond my capabilities.’ 

‘Exactly,’ said the King, ‘The knowledge you have of this… alternate reality is from living within in. But it is not practical knowledge. You would know how to operate the technology from your reality, but you could not provide detailed instructions on how to replicate it.’ 

‘So, I’m useless to the Order of Vulcan due to being… useless?’ I asked. 

‘Well, I wouldn’t have put it in quite those terms,’ said the King, chuckling, ‘but essentially that is the case. Whilst the Order of Vulcan may be interested in getting hold of you, they would first have to have knowledge of your existence. At present, only a select few are aware of your unique condition, myself included. And I have no intention of revealing this and I am certain that your friends will not either. These fanatics have, up to this point, been a minor irritation, but now that they have made this… personal, I will ensure that my considerable resources are focused on stamping them out.’ 

I have to admit to being somewhat relieved by this, as I had been imagining a future in which I was consigned to a small cell, buried deep under the Tower of London, scratching the days on the wall with a blunt spoon. 

‘Whilst I am having difficulty in appreciating the enormity of what your failure would have resulted in,’ continued the King, ‘I do know that I owe you a debt of gratitude which cannot be adequately repaid. If not for your actions, I would have not only lost my daughter, but also my existence, and that of my country. Furthermore, you did this with the full knowledge that you were potentially risking both your life AND your continued existence should you succeed. I therefore feel that you should be rewarded in some fashion, but am unsure as to what form this reward should take…’ 

‘A reward? For me?’ I exclaimed, ‘That’s not really necessary. I mean, the fact that I’m still here and still me is enough. I don’t need anything else. Besides, I should be giving YOU something…’ 

I held up my wrist, from which hung the dull skiron bracelet. 

‘I believe this is rightfully yours,’ I said. 

The King leaned forward. 

‘And this would be the original Vorpal Sword, I take it?’ asked the King, then held up his own wrist, where an almost identical bracelet hung, ‘As you can see, I have one of my own. It may merely be a copy of the original, but it is a superior copy. Being King does have some perks, after all. For the time being, I believe that you should retain ownership of the original. You have earned the right to carry it, as you used it in defence of your future Queen. But this still begs the question of a suitable reward…’ 

‘As I said before, I don’t need a reward.’ Then a thought occurred to me, ‘however, I may have inadvertently destroyed the college library…’ 

‘Say no more,’ said the King, smiling kindly, ‘I shall speak to Master Tweed and see what we can do about replacing the books that you… borrowed.’ 

The King rose to his feet. 

‘You have my sincerest thanks for what you have done, Mr Crowe,’ he said, ‘I still feel that I owe you more than you have asked, so you may very well hear from me again. Be advised that you are now a Person of Interest to the Crown, so we will be keeping a close eye on you, mainly for your own protection. Now, I have kept your friends waiting impatiently for far too long and I also need to speak to Dr Vayne, as she no doubt will want some kind of explanation.’ 

He paused, his hands resting lightly on the back of the chair. 

‘Knowing you as I do now,’ he said, ‘counselling you to try and avoid trouble would be like telling the sun not to shine, so I will merely say this – should you require any future help from the Crown, all you have to do is ask. However, I sincerely doubt you will, as you seem to be somewhat… reluctant about requesting help from authority figures. For the time being, I will leave you to convalesce.’ 

The King turned and strode from the room. I could hear him conversing with someone beyond the door, although I couldn’t make out what was being said, then it was flung open and Helena ran in, followed by Yarrow at a slower pace. 

Helena faltered as she drew closer to the bed, her face a mixture of concern and anxiety. 

‘Alex..?’ she asked, falteringly. 

It was obvious that she wasn’t entirely sure which Alex she was addressing, and I did momentarily consider pretending that I didn’t know who she was, but that would have been a bit mean.  

‘Yes, I am Alex,’ I said, ‘and yes, I AM still the same Alex who you last saw falling into the lake.’ 

Helena’s lips quivered, tears filling her eyes and she flung herself forward, enveloping me in her arms.  

‘Gods, I was so worried about you,’ she said, ‘We didn’t know what was happening, if you’d got there in time, and if…if…you’d come back the same…’ 

‘Well, other than some bruises and a broken leg…’ I said, which caused Helena to leap backwards, muttering apologies, ‘I’m pretty much okay. What happened to Errol? Is he alright?’ 

Yarrow carefully perched on the end of the bed. 

‘Dr Tweed took charge of him when she saw he’d been injured, and she’s looking after him at the moment.’ She leaned forward, ‘Now, tell us everything, as none of the teachers will say anything…’ 

‘I will,’ I said, ‘but first, I need the loo.’ 

Once I’d hobbled back from the toilet, which was a challenge in itself, I explained what had happened after I’d got to the island and how I’d managed to stop the Changeling. 

‘So the Changeling is dead, then?’ asked Helena. 

Images of what I’d glimpsed from the corner of my eye as I’d struggled to free Penny flashed across my mind’s eye – raw meat, steaming in the cold air, the sound of something heavy and wet slithering to the ground and blood… lots and lots of blood. I shuddered. 

‘Yes,’ I said, licking my lips, ‘I think we can definitely state that the Changeling is dead.’ 

‘So, what happens now?’ asked Helena, ‘Are you in trouble?’ 

‘Um, I don’t appear to be…’ I said, ‘Well, at least not with the King. However, the fact that I’ve broken several college rules AND destroyed the library means that Dr Vayne isn’t going to be my biggest fan. There IS a possibility I might be expelled…’ 

‘But you saved Penny!’ exclaimed Yarrow, ‘Surely that’s got to count for something?’ 

‘I guess we’ll find out…’ I said gloomily. 

It wasn’t until the following evening that Dr Vayne paid me a visit. After asking how I was feeling, she took a seat and marshalled her thoughts. 

‘I have been headmistress of Oakdene for many years now,’ she started, ‘and in that time, I have been presented with a number of challenges. I inherited some staff from the previous head who were unsuitable for the positions they held, including the previous Unnaturalism master, whose disregard for safety protocols resulted in the gym being burnt down when a mature salamander got loose. After I had instigated a full review of all staff and regulations, the college flourished and other than a few unruly students over the years, we have had no further problems. And then you came along…’ 

I swallowed nervously, as I felt that this was the part where I got a serious telling off and then informed that my time at Oakdene was at an end. 

‘This year we had decided to open our doors to a wider selection of students,’ Dr Vayne continued, ‘We had been approached by the Geist High Council about the possibility of including our first Geist student, the King had expressed an interest in allowing his daughter to attend Oakdene and, after much careful consideration, we decided to allow in our first scholarship student – you, Mr Crowe.’ 

Dr Vayne paused.  

Here it comes, I thought. 

‘As the college had been running smoothly, I guess that I had become complacent and assumed that everything would run as it normally had. Whilst consideration had been given to the safety of the Princess Royal, we could not anticipate that a plot would be hatched that could have resulted in her death, if not for your actions. I am not entirely certain how you became aware of this plot, nor exactly how you managed to prevent it, but the King has assured me that whilst the Changeling masquerading as one of our students met a violent end, this was not perpetrated by you and that you do not represent a present or future threat to anyone here at Oakdene.’ 

She sighed. 

‘The reason I have not visited you before now,’ she continued, ‘was that you present me with a quandary, Mr Crowe. On the one hand, you have flouted several college rules on numerous occasions, encouraged others to also break certain rules and have destroyed the school library. On the other hand, you excel at your studies, your teachers all speak highly of you, and you are a considerate and loyal friend. If we add to that the fact that your recent actions prevented the death of one of the students under my care, with no apparent thought for your own safety, the scales do seem to weigh in your favour. I hope that the remainder of your time here at Oakdene proves to be less… eventful.’ 

It took me a moment or two to digest what Dr Vayne was saying. 

‘I’m sorry, Miss,’ I said, ‘but are you saying I can stay?’ 

‘Yes, Mr Crowe. After careful consideration, as well as several impassioned… discussions with your teachers, I have decided to allow you continue your education here at Oakdene,’ she said, smiling, ‘With one condition…’ 

‘Which is?’ I asked. 

‘Should anything else of such a serious nature comes to your attention, come and see me first.’ 

‘Um, yes Miss,’ I stuttered, ‘Of course, Miss…’ 

‘Now, I believe that your little dragon is becoming a little fractious, so I have agreed with Dr Tweed that he can be brought here whilst you complete your recovery.’ She turned to leave, ‘I will be watching you, Mr Crowe, so please do not make me regret my decision.’ 

It’s human nature to look back on the decisions you’ve made in your life and speculate on how your life would have turned out differently, had you chosen an alternate path. It’s usually a pointless exercise, as no matter what decisions you think you may have changed with the benefit of hindsight, the past is immutable and cannot be changed. 

Unless someone decides to cast your consciousness back in time to occupy your teenaged body, for the sole purpose of foiling a murderous plot to rewrite reality. In which case, should you survive with body, mind, and sanity intact, you may find yourself in the unique position of being able to rewrite your own history. 

Of course, it’s highly unlikely that would happen to you and, having experienced it myself, I wouldn’t really recommend it. 

However, having been given a second chance at a life I thought had, for the most part, already run its course, I felt an excitement building that I had not experienced for many years. 

I had no idea what the future would bring, what further challenges I may face, but I was certain of one thing – I was definitely looking forward to finding out.

Chapter XXXI – Ill Met by Moonlight

Now that I definitely knew that Penny was here on the island, I hastened along the path, trying not to make too much noise as I approached what we assumed was the “temple.” As the vegetation had not been cleared back very far, there was limited headroom, so Errol stalked along the ground behind me. 

I could just about make out the walls of the temple ahead of me, shrouded in ivy, but there appeared to be some kind of obstruction in front of the entrance. As I drew closer, I discovered that it was a large mirror, angled backwards away from the doorway.  

Looking above the mirror, I could see that the foliage above it had also been cleared to the treetops, allowing light from the moon above to be reflected into the temple. I could see the distinctive flickering of sprite lanterns from within, so wasn’t entirely sure why this had been done, but realised that I would have to be careful manoeuvring myself past the mirror, as disturbing either the mirror or interrupting the reflected light could alert the Changeling to my presence. 

Motioning Errol to stay outside, I carefully stepped through the angled gap, hugging the wall as to reduce my profile, and hoping that the flickering from the sprite lanterns would mask any changes to the reflected moonlight. 

The interior of the temple was round, with a low wall circling the perimeter, forming a balcony looking down into the main room of the building, which appeared to be below ground level. Two sets of stone steps led down to the tiled floor below, one immediately in front of the entrance and the other opposite, on the far side. I quickly ducked down behind this wall, then waited listening, to see if my presence had been detected. I could hear a low muttering coming from the floor below me, as well as what sounded like whimpering, so cautiously raised my head above the top of the wall, to get a better view. 

In the centre of the floor was a stone altar, upon which Penny had been securely tied, a gag across her mouth, her eyes wide with fear. Suspended above her was another large mirror, also angled at 45 degrees, which reflected the moonlight from outside down upon her, bathing her in silvery light. Five sprite lanterns had been placed equidistant around the altar and a shadowy form, clutching a sheaf of papers was pouring some kind of powder along the floor. I looked closer and realised that the powdered lines were forming a pentagram, with sprite lanterns positioned at the points of the star. 

I ducked back down, then concentrated on the skiron bracelet, watching as it formed into a short sword in my hand. As I did this, the low muttering ceased. 

‘So, it would appear that we’re no longer alone, Princess,’ came a rasping voice from below, ‘and from the stench, they have armed themselves appropriately…’ 

‘Bollocks,’ I muttered, ‘so much for the element of surprise…’ 

‘I’m assuming that you’ve come here to try and stop me,’ continued the voice, ‘and you can hardly do that if you’re skulking in the shadows now, can you? So, you might as well come out…’ 

The Changeling had a valid point and seemed unconcerned that there was someone there, but as they were attempting to draw me out, that suggested that the confidence I could heard in his voice was false. From my understanding, the ritual needed to be completed by the stroke of midnight, which was now only half an hour away. In order to do so uninterrupted, the Changeling would need to deal with my unforeseen presence before then. I could almost guarantee that if I stepped into view, I would get a hex bolt between the eyes, which would seriously hamper my attempt to prevent reality from being overwritten. 

I knew that confronting the Changing directly, even though I was armed with the Vorpal Sword AND my defensive shield was almost impenetrable, was not the sensible option.  

Fools rush in, and all that.  

So, what I needed was an indirect plan of action. How could I disrupt the ritual, but without exposing myself or Penny to harm? 

Then I remembered what Helena had said back in the Study Hall, when we were trying to work out why the 17^{th of} December was significant. 

‘The light of the full moon is supposed to enhance any sorcery performed…’ I breathed, looking back towards the entrance. That’s why he’d set up the mirrors, as he needed Penny to be bathed in the light of the full moon in order for the ritual to succeed. 

I scrambled towards the entrance, mentally commanding the Vorpal Sword to alter its form, as I needed something more suitable for wholesale destruction. 

‘Leaving so soon?’ echoed the grating voice from behind me, amusement evident in its tone, ‘I assume you’ve realised that your actions would have been futile?’ 

‘Not at all, Mark, or whatever your name really is,’ I called back, ‘I’ve just had a smashing idea…’ 

I gripped the haft of the axe with both hands, raised it above my head and swung it down, hard. The blade of the axe impacted on the angled surface and there was a bright flash of light, a loud cracking noise and the mirror split down the centre, then collapsed into two pieces, shattered glass tumbling from the ruptured frame. 

‘That’s the way to do it,’ I said, grinning.  

‘You little shit!’ shouted the voice from behind me and I felt something snaking around me, entwining my body and limbs, lifting me off the ground. I was able to briefly glance down before my head was restrained, realising that I had been engulfed by the woody vines of the ivy that covered the temple. The vines above me twisted and I was rotated, the frowning visage of the creature that was wearing Marks’ face coming into view. 

‘Well, well, well,’ he said, ‘Alexander Crowe. I thought I recognised the voice. I’ll have to admit that I’m impressed that you managed to escape the infinity trap I set for you, even if I’m not exactly certain how you managed it.’ The Changeling looked down at the axe still grasped in my hand, ‘and you seem to have acquired a genuine vorpal blade forged from skiron from somewhere…’ He twitched his hand and one of the vines encircled my wrist, tightening until I had no choice but to drop the axe, ‘which I think we’ll leave here.’ 

As the axe tumbled from my numb fingers, it pulsed, returning to bracelet form as it dropped to the ground. 

He looked me directly in the face, and I could see madness lurking behind his eyes. 

‘I don’t know how you worked out what I was up to,’ he said, an amused grin on his face, ‘and frankly, I don’t care. And whilst you may think the destruction of this mirror has stopped me, it is merely a minor delay, as I anticipated that one or more mirrors may get damaged in transit and therefore brought some spares.’ He paused, cocking his head on one side. 

‘It would be far too easy to kill you now, and who would be there to witness my triumph? So, I’ve decided to give you a break… ‘  

He grinned savagely, then twisted his right hand, ‘the leg, I think.’ 

I felt the vines move around my body, then with a sudden wrench, the vines pulled in opposite directions, breaking my left leg. White hot pain filled my head and I let out an involuntary scream, tears filling my eyes. 

I must have blacked out for a moment, as when I next opened my eyes, I was no longer outside, but suspended against the interior wall of the temple to left of the door, bound in ivy.  

A dull throbbing was coming from my leg, sending out pulses of pain and I felt rather sick. Having suffered a broken a bone only once before, when I’d misjudged the weight of a cabinet that someone had left in my way and managed to drop it on my foot, I recognised the symptoms. Thankfully, as I was not putting any weight on the leg I was assuming was broken, I had only briefly passed out and the pain was… manageable.  

I couldn’t see the Changeling but could hear muttering and the sound of something heavy being moved outside, then moonlight streamed in through the door, striking the suspended mirror and illuminating Penny once more. The light shifted as the Changeling made his way back inside, rubbing his hands together. 

He turned to look up at me and I started, as the face looking up at me was no longer Mark’s, but gaunt and pale, the dark, hollow eyes feverish with excitement and the mouth stretched in a rictus grin. Looking closer, I could see that he was now also taller, but painfully thin. 

‘As I no longer needed to maintain my ruse,’ said the Changeling, ‘I took the opportunity to resume my real form. It certainly made positioning the mirror easier, as Mark’s body was quite weak, although…’ He licked his lips, ‘he was quite tasty.’ 

He turned away from me and started to make his way down the steps. 

‘Now that the interruption has been dealt with and everything is in place,’ he said, running his finger along the recumbent form of Penny, who flinched from his touch, ‘we merely need to wait until the appointed hour…’ 

He bent down behind the altar, then stood, holding a pocket watch in one hand and a sharp knife in the other. 

‘As no doubt your little friends have alerted the staff of the college as to what they think is going on, you are probably thinking that reinforcements will arrive just in the nick of time to save you both.’ The Changeling looked up at me, his dark eyes boring into mine, ‘You are mistaken. Time is on MY side.’ 

It would have been easy to give into despair at this point, as the Changeling appeared to have the upper hand. However, whilst he may have managed to restrain me physically, he couldn’t stop my mind from working and I believed I may have detected a fundamental flaw in his plan.  

In order to complete the ritual, the Changeling needed to meet specific criteria – he must sacrifice someone of a highly magical bloodline, under the light of the full moon, exactly at the stroke of midnight. The moonlight merely increased the chances of the ritual succeeding, the condition that the whole plan hinged upon was the time. All I needed to do was prevent the Changeling from killing Penny at the specified time. 

That would be simply a matter of casting a defensive shield over Penny, but I couldn’t do that unless I was free from the vines restraining me. If I still had the Vorpal Sword, I could have easily cut myself free, but that was lying on the ground outside. 

I was interrupted from my thoughts by a chirruping noise from below me. Looking down, I could see that Errol had crept inside and was squatting just below me, looking up at me, a quizzical expression on his face. Lying at his feet was the skiron bracelet, which I had no way of reaching from where I was. 

But the Vorpal Sword was not the only way I could get free… 

I twisted my hand, until I had managed to point my finger at the vines surrounding me. 

‘Errol, Elsa…’ I hissed. 

Errol leapt into the air, hovering in front of me, then opened his mouth. I closed my eyes, hearing the distinctive hissing sound as Errol breathed all over me, coating me with his freezing breath. I could feel my waterlogged clothing becoming brittle, something I’d not considered when I came up with this idea but hoped that the vines restraining me would be affected in the same way.  

I flexed my arms and heard a cracking noise, as the vines wrapped about my arms dropped away in pieces. I reached down and wrenched those encircling my torso away, feeling my body drop slightly as the support was removed. 

‘Oh crap…’ I said as I began to fall. I twisted as best as I could, as if I landed on my broken leg, the pain would disable me for some time, time I couldn’t afford to lose. 

I landed with a thump on my side, my hands gripped about my left leg, trying to stop it from impacting on the ground. I grit my teeth as a wave of pain shot up my leg but seemed to have prevented any further damage and at least I was still conscious. I scrabbled out with my hand, searching for the skiron bracelet, a feeling of relief washing over me as my fingers gained purchase on the heavy links. 

‘You are beginning to get on my nerves, Alexander,’ growled the Changeling, ‘I probably should have killed you when I had the chance.’ 

I poked my head over the top of the wall and could see the Changeling had positioned the knife across Penny’s throat, waiting for the exact moment to end her life. He was too close for me to effectively block his strike with a shield, so I needed a distraction. 

I looked behind me. 

‘Errol, get him!’ I called, watching as the tiny blue dragon took to the air and swooped over the wall, diving towards the Changeling. 

The Changeling took an involuntary step back as Errol swooped towards his face, giving me the opportunity I needed. I concentrated, covering both Penny and the altar she was laid upon with a shimmering dome of silver light.  

Let’s see you get through that, I thought. 

The Changeling slashed at Errol with the knife he held, nicking one of his wings and causing him to spiral from the air, landing with a thump on the tiled floor below. 

‘That’s taken care of that distraction,’ the Changeling spat, then looked at the watch he held, ‘And I still have time to dispose of you AND complete the ritual…’ 

I looked down at the skiron bracelet I held in my hand, remembering what Mr Ware had told me about the properties of the Vorpal Sword, then looked at the mirror suspended above the altar. 

‘It will cut through anything…’ I breathed, then quickly commanded the bracelet to form the shape in my mind. The bracelet pulsed, then swiftly became what I’d imagined, five curved arms radiating from a central hub. I flicked my wrist and five curved blades popped from the ends of each arm.  

I was now holding probably the coolest weapon ever to grace the silver screen in the 1980’s – the Glaive, from Krull. 

I raised my arm, took aim, and launched the Glaive. The Changeling’s eyes had widened as I’d formed the weapon, and he threw himself down behind the altar as soon as it left my hand. The Glaive spun through the air with a whirring sound, spiralling around the perimeter of the temple, before angling upwards and striking the centre of the suspended mirror, where it lodged, cracks radiating out from the point of impact. 

There was a brief moment of silence, then I could hear rasping laughter coming from the floor below. 

‘Not only did you miss,’ said the Changeling, climbing back to his feet ‘but you’ve also thrown away your only weapon. Such a pitiful attempt…’ 

‘I never miss what I’m aiming for,’ I said coolly, ‘Cat, take him…’ 

The glass from the suspended mirror exploded outwards, as something burst through from the other side with a bestial roar.  

The Vorpal Sword could cut through anything, including the barrier between our world and that of the Cat. True, the Cat could not remain in our world before the barrier repaired itself and drew it back to where it belonged, but I was counting on it being here just long enough. 

Remembering what the Cat had said about its true form, I shielded my eyes, but not before I caught a glimpse of something large and raw looking, speckled with mirrored shards, leaping across the room towards the Changeling.  

I limped along towards the steps using the wall to hold me up, being careful to maintain the shield around Penny. The mingled sound of screams and snarling met my ears, but with a tearing sound, the screaming suddenly faded, replaced by gurgling and the slithery sound of something wet being dumped upon the floor. 

I really did not want to see what. 

Of course, averting my eyes from whatever was happening on the far side of the room was not the most sensible option when attempting to negotiate steps with a broken leg, causing me to try and place my foot on a step that wasn’t actually there. This resulted in me tumbling down the steps and ending up in a screaming heap, black spots appearing before my eyes. Panting, I grit my teeth, rolled on to my stomach and dragged myself towards the altar, pain pulsing up my leg.  

The defensive shield had popped out of existence after my fall, and I could hear Penny sobbing above me. I looked up and could see the Glaive still embedded in the wooden back of the mirror’s frame, so reached out my hand and summoned it. It twitched, then worked its way free, spinning down in a slow circle until I snatched it from the air. I used my left arm to lever myself up to surface of the altar, panting with exertion, sweat beading on my brow. Darkness was encroaching on the edges of my vision, and I could feel my consciousness ebbing.  

I shook my head to clear my vision, then concentrated on the Glaive, which pulsed, then reformed as a dagger, which I used to cut through the ropes binding Penny to the altar. She sat up, tear tracks streaking the grime on her face and pulled the gag from her mouth. 

She then launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around me, sobbing. 

‘It’s alright,’ I croaked, stroking her hair, ‘You’re safe now.’ 

‘Alexander,’ came the rumbling voice of the Cat, ‘I can feel the barrier reforming, so will soon be drawn back into my realm. I have dispatched your foe, so you are no longer in any danger. As the tachyon particulate has completely burnt off, you will no longer be able to perceive me, so this is sadly farewell. I hope that you remain as you are, but nothing is ever certain, in either this world or mine.’ 

Penny had begun to turn when she heard the voice of the Cat, but I held her head. 

‘Best if you don’t look,’ I said, ‘it’s not something you want to see.’ 

There was movement behind us, and then the looming presence of the Cat was gone. 

I could feel my mind drifting, images forming in my mind of everything I had experienced since being thrust back in time, then dissolving, like film left exposed on a projector for too long.  

I had successfully foiled the plot to sacrifice Penny, which meant that reality would now not be overwritten, Yarrow and her Geist brethren would not be wiped from existence and magic would continue to exist in this world.  

However, that did mean that the future that my mind had been sent back from no longer existed as a possibility, so it was probable that all my memories, everything that made me ME would fade away, as the Alex of this world returned to what he was before I occupied his body. 

And I’d not even had a chance to say goodbye to my friends. 

My consciousness was fading. Whether this was due to the pain from my broken leg or reality restoring the status quo, I couldn’t be certain, but there was something I needed to do before that happened. 

‘Penny, listen to me,’ I said urgently, ‘This is important. You must tell them what happened, tell them everything and… and…’ I gulped, blinking back tears, voice thick with emotion, ‘and tell Helena that I’m sorry.’ 

‘What?! No!’ she wailed, ‘You can tell them, Alex! Alex, wake up! Alex…’ 

I could feel her shaking me, but this, along with her voice, faded as darkness enveloped me, carrying me away in its embrace. 

And once again, I was falling backwards, away from the light…

Chapter XXX – Something Borrowed…

‘So, what’s the plan, Alex?’ asked Helena, as we made our way back towards the college, ‘We know that Changeling has already kidnapped Penny, but we don’t know where they’ve taken her. If we can find them before midnight, we can stop…well, everything.’ 

‘That’s the idea,’ I said, ‘the thing that’s been bothering me is why he took her so early. We think that the likely place for the ritual to take place is the chapel, but what if we’re wrong? It’s a shame that Yarrow’s still confined, because if she wasn’t, she might be able to track him.’ 

Helena stopped suddenly. 

‘Alex…’ she said slowly, ‘What if we could get her out?’ 

‘Master Tweed confined her to her room,’ I said, ‘in order to get her out, we’d have to break the binding enchantment on her door, and we have no way…’ I stopped, then raised my wrist, the moonlight glinting off the skiron bracelet. 

‘I’m an idiot, aren’t I?’ I said, turning to Helena, who was grinning, ‘Right, let’s go get Yarrow.’ 

As I had encountered the reflected version of Aubrey in the entrance hall and it was likely that he had returned there after my distraction, we decided to sneak back into the college via the Kitchen door. 

We made our way upstairs without incident and were soon outside Yarrow’s door. I reached out and touched her door with the tip of my finger. As I did so, the confinement charm glowed into life, orange light surrounding the outline of the door. 

‘Yarrow!’ I called out, ‘It’s Alex. I need you to step away from your door, as we’re going to try and get you out.’ 

‘I don’t think that’s going to be possible, Alex,’ came the muffled voice of Yarrow from inside her room, ‘Master Tweed was pretty sure that no-one could get in, unless he lifted the enchantment.’ 

‘There’s always a way,’ I replied, ‘you just need the right tools.’ 

I turned to Helena. 

‘I think it’s best if you stay back whilst I do this,’ I said to her, ‘as I’m not sure what’ll happen when I break the enchantment.’ 

‘Probably best if you raise a shield whilst you’re doing it then?’ suggested Helena. 

‘Good idea.’ 

Concentrating, I summoned a silvery defensive shield, reducing its size to about three feet in diameter and centring it on my left wrist. Once this was in place, I shifted my attention to the bracelet, forming a picture in my mind of the item I wanted it to create. The bracelet flashed and pulsed once, then began to flow from my wrist into my palm, forming a handle, then a shaft and finally, the head of an axe.  

‘Here’s Alex…’ I sang, grinning, then drew my arm back and swung the axe towards the door.  

As it struck, there was a blinding flash of light and I felt a wave of force buffeting my shield, which flickered, but remained intact. It did cause me to take a step back, however. 

‘Are you alright, Alex?’ asked Helena, cautiously creeping closer. 

‘I think so…’ I said, ‘Let’s see if it worked.’ 

I dismissed my defensive shield, then tentatively and slowly reached out with my left hand, pausing just before I placed it on the door handle. When there was no reaction, I grasped the handle, turned it, and gently pushed the door open. 

Yarrow was standing wide-eyed on the far side of the room, a look of amazement on her face. Her eyes drifted down to the axe I was holding in my right hand and her brow furrowed. 

‘How on Earth did you do that?!’ she exclaimed, ‘And where did you get that?’ 

‘This,’ I said brandishing the axe, ‘is the original Vorpal Sword, although it does look like an axe at the moment, which I managed to convince Mr Ware to lend to me.’ I concentrated and the axe returned to liquid form, melting back down until it encircled my wrist, a bracelet once more. 

Helena barged past me and rushed into the room, throwing her arms around Yarrow. 

‘It’s so good to see you,’ she said, ‘we’ve missed having you around.’  

‘They’ll be time for a proper catch-up later,’ I said, looking at my watch, ‘we don’t have much time and we need your help.’ 

Yarrow’s expression grew serious. 

‘What do you need me to do?’ she asked. 

‘The Changeling has Penny,’ said Helena, ‘It looks like he took her about 9 o’clock and Alex thinks this might be because he’s taking her somewhere other than the chapel.’ 

‘That’s my theory, I said, nodding, ‘but we have no idea where else he might be taking her, so we were hoping that you might be able to track him using mícheart…’ 

‘As far as I know,’ said Yarrow, ‘it only works if I’m in close proximity to someone corrupted by dark magic, so I’m not sure I can track him…’ She paused, then a thought occurred to her, ‘Hang on, how do you know it’s a he?’  

‘Alex says he’s worked out who it is, although he’s not told me yet,’ said Helena sourly. 

‘There wasn’t time,’ I said, ‘I thought it was more important to escape the infinity trap and get the Vorpal Sword.’ 

‘So, who IS it then?’ asked Helena. 

‘It’s Mark, Mark Levin,’ I said, ushering the girls towards the door, ‘He was always in the library doing research and he was right next to you at the Samhain Ball when you had your turn – I distinctly remembering him asking whether you were alright, just before you threw up.’ 

‘Now that you mention it, I do recall him being there…’ said Yarrow. 

‘It’s kind of academic who it is,’ I said, ‘unless we can find out where he’s taken Penny.’ 

‘Are you sure it’s not the chapel?’ asked Helena, ‘We know the ritual must take place somewhere dedicated to Saturn and as far as I am aware it’s the only place on the grounds that is. I mean, it’s not like there’s another temple elsewhere…’ 

‘It just seems strange that he abducted her so early,’ I said, as we made our way towards the stairs, ‘The only reason I can think of for doing that would be that it was going to take him some time to get to where he needed to be….’ 

I trailed off, as my mind processed what Helena had just said. 

‘Another temple…’ I breathed, ‘Oh, you sneaky little wanker…’ 

‘You know where he’s gone, don’t you Alex?’ asked Helena. 

‘Yeah, I do,’ I replied, ‘we need to get down to the lake.’  

We were rapidly running out of time, so we hurried down the stairs and headed for the Garden Exit. However, as we made our way towards to the door, a figure stepped into the corridor in front of us from the Picture Gallery, halting our progress. 

It was Aubrey. 

‘I don’t know how you manged to get your freaky little friend out,’ he growled, ‘but I know what’s going on. Mark told me everything. I know you’re trying to get to Penny and I’m here to stop you.’ 

‘For Fuck’s sake, Aubrey!’ I exclaimed, ‘Mark’s the one who’s trying to hurt Penny, we’re trying to stop him!’  

‘I don’t believe you,’ he said, clenching his fists, ‘And this is as far as you go.’ 

‘I really don’t have time for your shit, Aubrey,’ I said in exasperation, ‘Penny’s in danger and if we don’t get to her in time, she could end up dead.’ I flexed my wrist, watching Aubrey’s eyes widen as the bracelet formed into a shining broadsword. I pointed it towards him. 

‘I don’t want to hurt you, Aubrey,’ I said, stalking forward, ‘But you’re in my way.’ 

Aubrey braced himself and began to summon a hex bolt, but as we watched, one of the curtains hanging by the Garden Exit behind him tore itself free, scattering curtain rings onto the ground and launching itself down the corridor towards him.  

Hearing the noise behind him, Aubrey had begun to turn, and we briefly saw the shocked expression on his face before the curtain swooped down upon him, binding itself around him and trussing him up like a turkey. He dropped to his knees and toppled to the ground, thrashing as he tried to free himself. 

I raised my eyebrows and looked back at Helena and Yarrow, who both looked as mystified as I was. 

‘Wasn’t me…’ I said. 

‘No, it was me,’ said a voice I recognised, and Ashleigh stepped into view, ‘If what you say is true, Alex, and you’ve never given me a reason to doubt you, then you don’t need Aubrey delaying you. He may be a bit of an idiot, but he IS my brother, so I’d rather you didn’t hurt him.’ 

‘Fair enough, Ashleigh,’ I said, ‘And thank you. I promise we’ll explain everything later.’ 

With our obstruction removed, we ran down the corridor and burst out of the Garden Exit, heading for Oakdene Lake. 

We arrived panting at the lake’s shore, our exertions temporarily protecting us from the chill December air.  

‘So,’ said Helena, once she had recovered enough to speak, ‘why are we here?’ 

I was still catching my breath, so merely pointed out across the lake, towards the largest island we could see from our vantage point. There, just visible above the trees, was the domed roof of the structure from which the island had got its name, reflecting in the moonlight. 

‘Temple Island…’ breathed Yarrow. 

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘When I was exploring on our first day here, I remember seeing the island and noting its name, but I never gave it another thought after that, as why would I? I’m guessing that it’s called “Temple Island” because the building we can just about see IS a temple and I’m pretty certain that we’ll find it IS dedicated to Saturn. That’s where the Changeling has taken Penny.’ 

I turned to Yarrow.  

‘I know it might not work at this distance but see if you can sense whether or not the Changeling is there,’ I then turned to Helena, ‘If the Changeling managed to get Penny to the island, he must have used a boat. I seem to recall that student’s handbook said something about students being able to use rowing boats on the lake in the summer, so I’m assuming there must be some knocking about somewhere. We need to find one, and quickly.’ 

Casting about along the shore, Helena spotted a small wooden jetty off to our right, with several shadowed forms nestled against its edge in the water. As she headed in that direction, I heard the familiar leathery flapping of wings and braced myself as Errol descended from the skies and landed with a thump on my shoulder. 

‘Alright Mate,’ I said, tickling him under the chin, ‘Just in time. I’ve got a feeling I might need you tonight.’ 

‘Alex!’ called Yarrow, walking towards me, an expression of disgust upon her face, ‘I think we can be pretty certain that the Changeling is on the island – there’s a horrible smell coming from that direction, which I’m guessing you can’t sense?’ 

‘No,’ I answered, ‘I can’t. If you can sense him from this distance, I’m guessing he must have become even more corrupted. That’s not a good sign.’  

‘Alex, we have a serious problem,’ called Helena from down by the jetty, ‘All of the boats have got holes in them, and it looks pretty recent. Looks like someone’s deliberately sabotaged them. With no boat, we have no way of getting across the lake. What on Earth are we going to do now?’ 

‘What’s he doing?’ asked Yarrow, watching as I began to pace back and forth along the edge of the lake, muttering to myself. 

‘It’s what he does when he’s trying to work something out,’ answered Helena, ‘I’ve found it best to just leave him to it… he usually comes up with something.’ 

Right, I thought to myself, we NEED to get to the island. Can’t use a boat, as the Changeling has knackered them all, so that’s out. No brooms or flying motorcycles, and I doubt Errol could carry me, so flying’s out… I looked at Errol, with a frown on my face, Errol CAN freeze things, but there’s no way he could freeze the surface of the lake to create a bridge…  

a bridge…  

abridged… 

I turned suddenly, looking back towards the college, eyes narrowing. 

‘That couldn’t possibly work,’ I muttered, ‘could it?’ 

‘I recognise that look,’ said Helena, looking intently at my face, ‘You’ve had an idea, haven’t you Alex?’ 

‘I have,’ I said, ‘and it’s a terrible idea, but I don’t see any alternative.’ I rolled my shoulders to get the kinks out, then thrust out my arms towards the main college building and began to summon, ‘I am going to get in SO much trouble for this…’ 

There was a brief moment of silence, then the sound of breaking glass echoed across the South Lawn, as several blocky shapes burst from the ground floor windows and started to stream towards us. 

Both Helena and Yarrow took an involuntary step back, looks of astonishment on their faces. 

‘What have you done, Alex?!’ asked Helena. Yarrow, who could see better in the dark, suddenly realised what she was seeing. 

‘Are those books?!’ she exclaimed. 

‘This isn’t as easy as it looks,’ I said through gritted teeth, ‘so I’d appreciate a little quiet.’ 

Helena and Yarrow, mouths agape, watched as hundreds upon hundreds of books – almost the entire contents of the Library’s shelves (as I’d avoided summoning the restricted volumes – I’m not that daft), streamed over their heads and began to form floating path just above the surface of the lake, leading from the shore to the distant shape of Temple Island. 

I could feel sweat breaking out on my brow, as whilst I’d summoned and controlled several books at once, I’d never attempted anything on this scale before. As I strained to keep the books airborne, one slipped from my mental grasp and dropped into the lake, vanishing beneath the surface with a loud splash. 

‘I won’t… be able… to keep… them up… for long,’ I gasped, ‘So, I’ll have to go… on my own…’  

I steeled myself, then launched myself forward, leaping on the first book, then the next, speeding up until I was running along the floating pathway I had created. As my foot left each book, I let it fall, concentrating on just keeping just those in front of me aloft.  

It was hard work, as although there were less books to control as I ran towards the island, the combination of mental and physical exertion was rapidly tiring me out. The books in front of me were slowly sinking towards the surface of the lake and I increased my pace, hoping that I would reach the island before they dropped. 

I almost made it. 

I was about ten feet from the shore when I felt the volume I had just leapt onto drop suddenly, so shifted my weight forwards, turning my leap into a dive. The water was just as cold as I had expected it to be, but that didn’t prevent my breath from being expelled forcefully from my lungs. I experienced momentary panic as water filled my mouth, until my feet gained purchase on the lakebed and I thrust upwards, spluttering as my head broke the surface. Blinking water from my eyes, I could just make out the dim form of what looked like a rowing boat, tethered to the trunk of a tree, so made my way towards it.  

Reaching the boat, I grasped its side and manoeuvred my way along it, teeth chattering, as I knew there was no way I’d be able to drag myself into it. The lakebed rose here, so I staggered from the water, using the rope to drag myself ashore. Once on dry land, I collapsed onto my hands and knees, coughing up the cold lake water. 

‘That…’ I croaked, ‘was not fun.’ 

I heard wooden thump behind me, followed by a chirruping sound. Turning my head, I spied Errol perched unsteadily on the edge of the rowing boat, wings extended to maintain his balance. He had obviously decided to follow me, which made me feel a bit better, as at least I wouldn’t be facing the Changeling alone. 

Glancing back the way I came, I could see various dark shapes floating on the surface of the water, the remains of Oakdene’s library now reduced to water-logged pulp. Looking towards the college, I could see that the Library’s windows were now alight, as were other windows of the college and two stick figures, which I assumed were Helena and Yarrow, waving their arms on the shore. I clambered to my feet and waved my arms, hoping that Yarrow’s night vision would allow her to see that I was alright. 

I checked my wrist, relieved that I hadn’t lost the Vorpal Sword after my unscheduled dip in Oakdene Lake, even though it did appear that one of my shoes had been consigned to its watery depths. I pulled the other one off, as limping about in a single shoe probably wouldn’t increase my chances of sneaking in on the Changeling, then looked about.  

Temple Island had clearly not been visited in some time, as the majority of the ground beneath the low hanging trees was overgrown. However, leading from where the boat had been tied up, a path had been formed, the vegetation along its perimeter curled up and blackened, as though rotted. 

I gingerly stepped forward into the gloomy tunnel, cursing quietly as something sharp pierced the sole of my right foot, going straight through my water-logged sock. I lifted my foot up, probing in the semi-darkness to see what it was I had trodden upon. There, attached to the underside of my foot by its thorny stem, was a black silk rose… 

Chapter XXIX – Through a Glass, Darkly

The first thing I noticed as I stepped into the realm beyond the glass was that the light was… weird.  

Everything had a yellowish tinge to it, as though the light had been filtered through an unbleached cotton blind. And the shadows were all wrong – darker than they should have been and shifting subtly, as though whatever casting them was not entirely solid. If you’ve ever experienced a partial solar eclipse, you’ll know what I’m talking about. 

The second thing, which was quite jarring, was that the room was reversed. Whilst I had been advised this would be the case, I don’t think I’d really mentally prepared myself for this. Navigating this ‘mirror realm’ would take a degree of concentration, as all directions would be the opposite of what I was expecting, which could lead me to wasting time going the wrong way – time that I couldn’t really afford, given that should the tachyon particulate burn off before I managed to exit this realm, I would be trapped here. 

I glanced behind me at the mirror I had just stepped through, starting slightly at the image reflected there. There I was, back to my adult form, complete with greying hair and the fine lines around my eyes, yet surrounded by sparkling orange motes, like an updated version of the old Ready Brek adverts from the 70’s and 80’s.  

‘Get up and glow indeed…’ I muttered to myself. 

As I watched, however, one of the motes flickered, then blinked out. This highlighted (pun unintended) that I only had a very limited window in which to get to Mr Ware’s, hoping that Helena had done what I asked. Given the reversal of all directions, this could present a challenge… unless, of course, you had a local guide. 

‘Cat? Are you there?’ I called. 

‘I’m waiting for you out in the corridor, Alexander,’ came a deeper voice than I was expecting. It was definitely the Cat’s voice, but sounded…bigger, somehow. ‘I thought it best to wait for you out of your line of sight, as my natural form is not meant to be seen by human eyes and may damage your mind beyond repair.’ 

‘That’s very considerate of you, Cat, so thank you for that,’ I said, ‘Now, I need to get to Mr Ware’s cottage as quickly as possible. As directions are reversed, I’m guessing that I’ll need to turn left instead of right when I get outside, otherwise I’ll end up at the tennis courts… I think. As I will be initially heading for the stairs, which would normally be to the left along the Nursery Corridor, I’ll have to turn right, so this is the direction I’ll be turning when I step into the corridor.’ 

‘Understood, Alexander,’ said the Cat, ‘I shall endeavour to stay behind you, providing guidance where necessary. I will also keep an eye on your aura, as you will need to be back your side of the glass before it fades completely.’ 

‘Good point, Cat,’ I said, ‘Let’s get this done.’ 

Thankfully, my theory that the infinity trap would only confine me in the ‘real’ world proved to be true, so I just walked out of my room. Progressing through the college was a surreal and disconcerting experience. The layout of the building was reversed, so where my body was screaming at me to turn left, I was turning right and vice versa. It took a great deal of concentration, which wasn’t helped by the fact that I could hear the soft padding of paws behind me, which I really shouldn’t have been able to hear.  

Unless, of course, the Cat was a LOT bigger this side of the glass.  

By the time I’d got to the bottom of the main staircase, I had a stiff neck, as when you can hear someone walking behind you, it’s your natural inclination to at least glance back.  

“Like one, that on a lonesome road,  

Doth walk in fear and dread,  

And having once turned round walks on,  

And turns no more his head;  

Because he knows, a frightful fiend 

Doth close behind him tread.”  

Or something like that. 

Having navigated the main staircase, which descended counterclockwise in this reversed world, I was disturbed from my reverie by what sounded like muttering coming from up ahead. It appeared to be coming from the entrance hall. As I passed through the main reception, I could see movement up ahead of me – a pair of little legs floating across the doorway towards the entrance to the college.  

I slowed and carefully peeked around the door jamb and was confronted by a very strange sight. Bobbing along the ceiling towards the door was a large hairy balloon, beneath which dangled a tiny body, clad in what appeared to be the standard uniform of the college.  

Whether it was my sharp intake of breath at this sight, or perhaps some instinctive feeling on the part of the entity, it ceased bobbing and slowly began to rotate towards me.  

As it turned, I could see that the large hairy balloon appeared to be a head, but one disproportionate to the tiny body hanging beneath it. There, an ear, and there, spread across the swollen surface of the “balloon,” a face. It took me a moment to recognise the face, as I was not used to seeing it spread across such a large surface. 

‘Aubrey?!’ I exclaimed, ‘Is that you?’  

The balloon-headed entity frowned, looking both puzzled and a little fearful. 

‘Who are you?’ it asked in a high-pitched voice, ‘Are you one of the kitchen staff? You’re not supposed to be here, no-one’s supposed to be here, and I’m not to let anyone out. HE told me not to.’ 

‘I’m…’ I started to say, then paused.  

Based on what the Cat had told me before, this was likely to be Aubrey’s reflection this side of the mirror, which suggested that the Changeling had convinced him to wait here (or rather in the entrance hall of college in the real world) to prevent me from leaving, should I manage to escape from the infinity trap. However, as this side of the glass I was in my adult from, Aubrey had failed to recognise me, which I was hoping I could use to my advantage. 

‘You’re right,’ I said, ‘I’m one of the kitchen porters. I’ve just been to see Dr Vayne and now I’m on my way home.’ 

‘Well, you can’t come out this way,’ said Mirror Aubrey, self-importantly, ‘I’m guarding the door and I’m not to let anyone out, especially that nasty Crowe boy…’ 

‘Ah, I see…’ I said, ‘That sounds like a particularly important job. Um… this Crowe fellow you mention – is he a skinny lad with floppy hair?’ 

‘Might be…’ said Mirror Aubrey, frowning, ‘Why?’ 

‘Well, if it is, I think I saw him the Dee House common room, trying to open the windows. Looks like he might be trying to get out that way…’ 

Mirror Aubrey bobbed backwards in surprise. 

‘No!’ he said, ‘He’s not allowed out! HE told me so! He must be stopped!’ 

‘Seems to me that if you’re going to stop him climbing out the window, you’ll have to leave the entrance hall unguarded,’ I said, ‘Unless…’ 

‘Unless what?’ asked Mirror Aubrey quickly. 

‘Well, it’s obvious to me that it’s important to that this Crowe fellow doesn’t get out, but you can’t be in two places at once. I was on my way home, but I suppose I could guard the entrance hall for you. That way, you can go and stop him, and if he manages to get past you, I’ll be here to stop him. I mean, he’s scrawny, so it’s doubtful he’d be able get past me, isn’t it?’ 

I could see Mirror Aubrey giving this some thought, his vast brow furrowed. 

‘A good plan,’ he said, ‘I’m glad I thought of it. Yes, you stay here and guard the door and I’ll stop Crowe.’ 

‘My pleasure,’ I said, watching as he drifted towards the reception door, ‘I’ll keep watch here…’ 

Once he was out of sight, I quickly made my way outside, got my bearings and headed left. The one thing you could guarantee about Aubrey, be it the real thing or his reflection, was that he was very easy to fool. 

‘Your aura is beginning to fade, Alexander,’ said the Cat from behind me, ‘unless you want to be trapped here, you had best hurry.’ 

Taking the Cat’s advice, I took to my heels, hoping that Helena had reached the cottage ahead of me. 

I made my way along the front of the college, heading along the road that led to the East Gate (although in this mirror world, I was heading West, of course).  

Whilst the air was still, suffused with the weird yellow light of the mirror realm, every tree I passed shivered as though caught in a breeze. I could also hear what sounded like whispering, which appeared to be coming from the trees themselves. I was tempted to stop and try to discern what was being said, as I could almost make out the words, but the Cat’s warning that the tachyon particulate was slowly blinking out of existence hurried my feet onwards. 

I finally reached the spot upon which the Keeper’s Cottage stood in the real world, to find that on this side of the mirror the structure had been replaced by what looked like a long barrow, its gaping stone entrance facing towards me. As I drew closer, I could voices echoing from within and could see shadows flickering, as though cast by flames. 

Glancing down at my hands, I could see that the remaining glowing motes of tachyon particulate were widely spaced and, as I watched, another blinked out. I didn’t have much time left.  

I quickly entered the barrow, passing through a long corridor faced with stone slabs, dodging pale roots which dangled from the low ceiling. As I approached the fire-lit chamber at the end of the corridor, the voices I had heard before grew louder and I recognised them as belonging to Helena and Mr Ware.  

Or rather, their mirror versions.  

The chamber at the end of the corridor was a lot larger than it should have been, given the exterior dimensions of the barrow. A firepit stood in the centre of the room, flames licking from roughly cut branches, casting a warm orange light on the two occupants of the room. One was Helena, who did not look very much different this side of the glass. In her hands she held a glowing rectangle of glass, the mirror I had asked her to bring. 

Mr Ware, however, towered above her in all his reptilian glory, a long tail lashing and bat-like wings flexing behind him. He looked almost identical to the Tenniel illustration, even down to the shabby tweed waistcoat that covered his torso.  

As I had deduced from the clues my subconscious mind had accumulated, then joined together, Mr Ware was not what he appeared to be. Rather than merely a gamekeeper in the employ of the college, he was THE Jabberwock, the last True Dragon on British soil, revealed in his true form on this side of the mirror. 

And there, encircling his right wrist, was a brightly shining bracelet, which pulsed and flexed, extruding sharp points which were then reabsorbed. This confirmed my other hypothesis. 

‘Alexander,’ came the rumbling voice of the Cat behind me, ‘You must hurry – you are almost out of time.’ 

I made my way swiftly across the chamber, the Jabberwock’s flaming eyes narrowing as I approached. 

‘Don’t mind me, just passing through…’ I muttered, then quickly dived head-first through the glowing portal held in Helena’s outstretched hands. 

I tumbled out of the mirror onto the cool flagstone floor of Mr Ware’s cottage, landing in a heap at Helena’s feet. 

‘Alex!’ Exclaimed Helena, carefully putting the mirror to one side and rushing forward, ‘Are you alright?’ 

‘Yeah,’ I said, as she helped me to my feet, ‘Probably one of the weirdest experiences I’ve had, but yes, I’m fine.’ 

Helena looked at the mirror, then back at me. 

‘You went into the Cat’s realm, didn’t you?’ she asked, ‘I thought you were only going to do that when…’ she stopped, realising who was listening, ‘when the thing was supposed to happen…’ she finished a little lamely. 

‘That was the initial plan,’ I said, ‘but the Changeling didn’t give me a lot of choice, and this was the only way I could think of to get free.’ 

Helena stepped closer and lowered her voice. 

‘But do you have enough… er… stuff left, if you need to go back in?’ 

I looked over her shoulder, where I could see the Cat gazing out of the mirror at me. It shook its head. 

‘Yes,’ I lied, ‘there’s enough residue left for when the time comes.’ 

The Cat rolled its eyes. 

Mr Ware, who had been listening to this exchange with a puzzled expression on his face, cleared his throat. 

‘Now, I don’t know exactly what’s going on here,’ he said, ‘but I do know that the pair of you shouldn’t really be traipsing around the grounds after nightfall, so I think it best that I escort you back to the college.’ 

‘I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, Mr Ware. We’ve got less than three hours to prevent the death of one of my friends and in order to do so, I’ll need that.’ I said, pointing at the skiron bracelet that was just visible past his shirt cuff. 

‘This bracelet? Why?’ he said, covering it with his left hand. 

Helena looked confused. 

‘Alex, I know it’s made of skiron, which is fatal to Changelings,’ she said, ‘but I can’t see how having that bracelet would be that helpful.’ 

‘Ah, if it was only a bracelet, then you’d be right,’ I said, ‘but it’s so much more than that, isn’t it Mr Ware? Just as YOU are more than you appear as well…’ 

‘I don’t know what you mean…’ mumbled Mr Ware, looking uncomfortable. 

‘I think you’d better explain, Alex,’ said Helena. 

‘You told me that that bracelet was given to you by a very great man, to look after until it was claimed by its rightful owner. You also told me that was a very long time ago.’ Mr Ware nodded guardedly. ‘However, what you failed to mention was that this “great man” was King Athelstan, and this was just after he’d defeated you, over a thousand years ago.’ 

‘What?!’ exclaimed Helena, ‘What on Earth are you talking about Alex?’ 

‘It took me a while to work it out, as I was concentrating on trying to work out who the Changeling was,’ I said, ‘But combining what Master Tweed told me about the Athelstan’s defeat of the last True British Dragon AND Mr Ware’s comments regarding both how he came by that bracelet and my queries regarding that picture of the White Horse of Uffington,’ I pointed at the illustration on the wall, ‘lead me to the conclusion that Mr Ware was not what he appeared to be. If you then add in the first line of the second stanza of The Ballad of King Athelstan, then everything becomes clear.’ 

‘I’m not as familiar with that as you, Alex…’ said Helena, frowning. 

‘The first line reads “Beware the Jabberwock, my son!” If you disregard the final two words, break the first word in half and move the comma, it reads as “Be Ware, the Jabberwock” or B. Ware, the Jabberwock. B. Ware, as in Benedict Ware. Mr Ware IS the Jabberwock and that skiron bracelet,’ I said, pointing at it, ‘is the original Vorpal Sword, which King Athelstan bequeathed to you for safekeeping, with the intention that you pass it on to one of his descendants.’ 

‘But…but…’ stammered Helena, looking between myself and Mr Ware, ‘that can’t be right! Are you telling me that Mr Ware is actually a dragon?!’ 

‘Was a dragon,’ said Mr Ware quietly, ‘I’ve been in human form for centuries now – I doubt I have enough magic left in me to assume my true form.’ 

‘That’s beside the point,’ I said, ‘King Athelstan’s direct descendant is here, at the college. However, she’s been kidnapped by a Changeling, who intends to sacrifice her at the stroke of midnight tonight. We need the sword.’ 

Mr Ware flexed his right hand and the bracelet flashed once, then flowed down from his wrist into his open palm, extending and expanding from there until it formed into a dull iron sword, about four feet long. 

‘I was supposed to pass this to its rightful owner,’ he said, turning the blade in his hand, ‘but it would appear that your need is greater than hers…’ 

He looked up at me thoughtfully, then obviously came to a decision. 

‘However, you need to understand what it is you are taking on. The sword can only be passed on willingly by its current bearer, it cannot be taken by force. Once accepted, it reacts to the thoughts of its wielder and can form any bladed weapon, which can cut through anything, be it matter or enchantment, so you must be careful when you wield it. When not in use, it retracts back into the form of the bracelet you initially saw it as.’ He looked me in the eye, ‘Are you prepared to accept this burden, as those who are aware of its existence will want to take it from you?’ 

‘I’ll only need it to deal with this current situation,’ I said, holding out my hand, ‘once that’s done, I’ll pass it on to its rightful owner.’ 

‘In that case,’ said Mr Ware, as the sword retracted back into bracelet form, ‘I bequeath the Vorpal Sword to your care.’ 

He reached out and clasped my right hand in his and, as I watched, the bracelet returned to its fluid form, running down his wrist, across the back of his hand and encircling my wrist, where it resumed its solid form. 

‘Thank you, Mr Ware.’ I said seriously, ‘And be assured, your secret is safe with us. Isn’t that right, Helena?’ 

‘Of course,’ said Helena, still somewhat shocked at the revelations she had just witnessed, ‘I mean, who on Earth would believe us anyway?’  

‘Yeah, you’ve got that right,’ I agreed, making for the door, ‘Now, we’d best hurry – we have a princess to save.’  

Realising what I’d just said, I stopped so suddenly that Helena walked into the back of me. 

‘Now what?’ she complained. 

‘Do you know what?’ I said, a wry grin on my face, ‘That’s a phrase I genuinely never thought I’d ever have reason to say.’ 

Chapter XXVIII – In the Serpent’s Coils

The morning of the 17^{th of} December dawned cold and crisp, something that was all too apparent due to the open window in my room. As Errol was curled up asleep at the foot of my bed, I quickly jumped up and closed it, before retreating back to the warmth of my bed. 

I could have attributed my shivering to the cold that ran icy fingers over those parts of my body not covered by my pyjamas, but to be completely honest, I was feeling rather apprehensive. 

Today WAS the day on which the ritual sacrifice of the Princess Royal was potentially due to take place, which, if I failed to prevent it, would result in the current reality being overwritten and ALL magic being erased from existence.  

However, should I succeed in foiling the Changeling’s plans, there existed the possibility that whilst I would have effectively saved everyone else, there would no longer be a future for my mind to be sent back from, so my current consciousness, everything that made me ME, would fade away as reality repaired itself, like grains of sand blown in the wind.  

Understandably, I had every right to be a little anxious. 

And whilst we had a rough outline of a plan to prevent both the ritual AND my possible erasure from existence from happening, we were pretty certain that the Changeling suspected that Helena and I were aware of their presence, even if we hadn’t been able to identify them yet. 

Our shadowy nemesis had chosen not to take any action against us over the preceding week, so they were either confident that we were unaware of what they were actually planning, or they were merely biding their time, waiting to an opportune moment to strike. 

Either way, we had done all we could possibly do to prepare, so it was just a case of staying alert and being ready to act when the time came. 

Of course, unless you’re omniscient, have neurotactical wetware or a brain the size of a planet, you cannot “expect the unexpected,” no matter how many motivational posters try to convince you otherwise… 

The day had progressed without incident, and I was doing some last-minute research in my room, having arranged to meet Helena there around 9.00pm to prepare for the evening’s events. 

The first sign I had of anything being amiss was the clatter of the key to my room dropping to the floor. I rose from my chair, putting aside the Leabhar Scáthanna in which I’d been reading up on Changelings, and approached my door. The key was lying on the floor in front of the door, which was slightly odd, so I picked it up and reinserted it in the keyhole.  

Or would have done, had there actually been a keyhole to put it back into. I tentatively reached out and ran my finger across the surface, but the backplate was completely blank, with no indication that there had ever been a keyhole in the first place. Reaching up, I tried the handle and was unsurprised to find that it wouldn’t budge. 

As I was considering this strange turn of events, the open window behind me slammed shut, making me jump. I quickly went to both windows and tried them, but both refused to open or even move. Furthermore, although the moon was full, no light penetrated the room from outside and I could hear a faint rasping noise, although something vast and reptilian was pressed against the glass, its scales rubbing against the outer wall. 

It would appear that the Changeling had made their move, trapping me in my room. 

I was contemplating this latest development when I heard a muffled voice outside my door. 

‘Alex? Are you in there?’  

I recognised the voice as belonging to Helena. 

‘Yes, and it doesn’t look like I’ll be going anywhere soon,’ I groused, ‘I think someone has cast a spell of confinement on my room, as all the windows and door are sealed, and I can’t get out.’ 

‘That would explain the glowing sigil on your door,’ said Helena, ‘I didn’t think it wise to try touching it or your door, just in case.’ 

‘Probably for the best,’ I said, then paused in thought, ‘what does the symbol look like?’ 

‘It’s a circle broken at the bottom left, the right-hand end of the break having what looks like the letter V attached and a dot in the centre,’ answered Helena. 

This sounded familiar, as though I’d seen this somewhere recently… 

‘Does it sort of look like a snake swallowing its tail?’ I asked. 

‘I suppose…’ said Helena dubiously. 

‘I think I know what it is,’ I said, ‘but I’ll need to look it up. Whilst I do that, check that Yarrow’s still safe and see if you can find Penny, but be careful, as I think this definitely confirms that the Changeling knows we’re on to them.’ 

‘But what about you?’ asked Helena plaintively, ‘With both you and Yarrow stuck in your rooms, that only leaves me to try and stop them. I’m not sure I can do it on my own…’ 

‘Let’s deal with one thing at a time,’ I said, ‘go and check on the others and then come back. Hopefully by then, I’ll have a plan.’ 

After Helena had left, I held out my hand and said ‘Ouroboros.’ The books on my shelf jostled against one another, then one slid free, slowly opening to the relevant page as it floated down into my waiting hands. In the centre of the page was an illustration which matched the glyph Helena had described, so I quickly scanned the contents. 

According to Hersent’s Glyphs and Sigils, I was currently confined by an enchantment which had gone by many names over the centuries but was commonly known as an “infinity trap.”  

The caster inscribed the ouroboros symbol, usually depicted as a serpent or dragon eating its own tail, on the door to the chamber to be secured. This confined whoever was inside until such time as the caster removed the enchantment, the time limit on the spell expired, or the prisoner somehow managed to escape. It was particular difficult to cast AND also almost impossible to break, as any magic cast nearby was sucked in by the spell, furthering the term of imprisonment – hence the ‘infinity’ part. 

So, not only had the Changeling been hiding in plain sight for the last three months, they’d also been a regular user of the Library, to research both the ritual AND useful spells to ensure they would succeed, as well as stealing one of the restricted books to plant in Yarrow’s room. 

Suddenly, as though a switch had been flipped in my mind, a series of images flashed past my mind’s eye… 

…another student already hard at work, surrounded by books and making copious notes. As I walked in, he scowled at me and covered his notes with his arms, as though I was spying on him… 

…from the expression on his face and the way he kept shooting glances at the restricted bookcase, it was clear he had been standing there for a while… 

…hard at work, with various volumes piled next to him, furiously making notes with a frown on his face. He always seemed to be in here when I came in… 

… ‘Is your friend alright?’ asked a voice… 

All the evidence had been right there in front of me, but I’d been so caught up in all the other stuff that I’d failed to piece all the clues together. I now knew who the Changeling was… 

‘Ooohh, you sneaky bastard…’ I breathed. 

And now that I’d solved that mystery, which I’d been worrying at like a dog with a bone, my mind was linking together other seemingly insignificant details it had previously registered, coalescing into a fully formed certainty. 

Not only did I know what I needed to defeat the Changeling AND where to find it, I also knew how I was going to escape from my room. And all I needed was a little help from my friends… 

Whilst I was waiting for Helena to come back, I discussed my plan with the Cat, who confirmed that it was possible, although they did state that this could prevent me from avoiding the reality storm should I manage to stop the Changeling. 

‘I have to admit that I have grown rather attached to you, Alexander,’ the Cat said, ‘and it would be a shame to lose you. If there is anything I can do to help, you just have to ask.’ 

‘That’s appreciated, Cat,’ I said, ‘At present, I’ll just need you to guide me to where I need to be.’ 

When Helena returned, she sounded out of breath, as though she had been running. 

‘Yarrow’s still in her room and wanted me to tell you to be careful, and wish you luck,’ she said, ‘but Penny’s not in hers. I tried banging on her door, in case she was asleep, but she didn’t answer. No-one I asked has seen her since dinner.’ 

‘Bollocks,’ I muttered, ‘I think the Changeling may have spirited her away somewhere already, but why so early? I mean, they need to get Penny to the chapel before midnight, but that’s three hours away and the chapel isn’t that far…’ 

There was something I was missing, I was certain of it, but the current priority was to extricate myself from the infinity trap, so it would have to be shelved for the time being. 

‘So, what’s the plan? Asked Helena, ‘I’m obviously making the assumption that you’ve thought of something…’ 

‘I have,’ I replied, ‘but I’ll need your help.’ 

‘What do you need me to do?’ 

‘Go to the chapel, get the mirror we left in there and take it to Mr Ware’s cottage. Make sure you don’t drop it on the way, otherwise this won’t work. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll meet you there shortly.’ 

‘Mr Ware’s?’ asked Helena, ‘Why there? 

‘Because Mr Ware hasn’t been entirely straight with us,’ I said, ‘I told you he was hiding something, but I’ve only just worked out exactly what it is…’ 

‘And are you going to tell me?’ asked Helena. 

‘Not right now, no,’ I replied, ‘It’s probably best you don’t know until I’m there too, as I’m not sure how he’s going to react.’ 

‘Oh,’ there was a pause, whilst Helena digested this, ‘Could it be dangerous, then?’ 

‘I honestly don’t know,’ I said, ‘I don’t think so, but I’d rather not take the risk. Just take the mirror down to Mr Ware’s and tell him that I’m on my way, as there’s something I want to ask him. He’ll probably want to know what, but as you don’t know, you can’t tell him. As he knows I’m a nosey bugger, I’m hoping that it’ll pique his curiosity and he’ll be content to wait.’ 

‘And exactly how are you going to get out? You haven’t explained that either…’ 

‘I know,’ I answered, ‘Let’s just say that I have an exit that the Changeling had no way of anticipating.’ 

‘Is it dangerous?’ Helena asked quietly, ‘Could you… get hurt?’ 

I glanced across at the Cat, who, after some thought, nodded once. 

‘Possibly,’ I said, ‘but it’s the only way I can think of, and if I don’t get out, we can’t save Penny.’ 

‘I just want you to know I’m not entirely happy about this, Alex,’ said Helena, ‘but if you think it’s the only choice we have, I guess I’ll just have to trust you. However, if you don’t turn up in the next twenty minutes at Mr Ware’s, I’m going straight to Master Tweed…’ 

‘Fair enough,’ I replied. 

‘Be careful, Alex.’ 

‘I will.’ 

As Helena went off to fetch the mirror from the chapel, I turned back to the Cat. 

‘So, how do I do this?’ I asked apprehensively. 

‘Reach out you hand and push through the glass,’ it said, ‘I anticipate there will be some resistance, similar to putting your hand into a bowl of water, but that should be all.’ 

I swallowed nervously, then reached out my hand towards the mirror. Rather than stopping at the glass, my fingers continued onwards, beyond the reflective surface. I could feel a slight tingling in my fingertips, like when you’ve been out in the cold for too long without gloves and your hands begin to warm up again. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but I hoped it would only last as I passed through the interface, rather than for the entirety of the time I was on the Cat’s side of the glass. 

Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the mirror…

Chapter XXVII – On the Scent

The next couple of weeks were somewhat frustrating, as the date of the planned ritual was creeping ever nearer, and we were no closer to identifying the Changeling.  

We knew it wasn’t anyone from Dee House, but that still left nineteen possible suspects, nine from Watkins House and ten from Scot House. 

As the tincture of rowanberry would not be ready for at least another couple of weeks, we had kind of reached a dead end regarding exposing the wolf in the fold. 

However, we had been allowed to visit Yarrow in her room, so were hoping that she might be able to offer a fresh perspective. 

‘A Changeling?!’ exclaimed Yarrow, ‘are you sure?’ 

‘Alex thinks so,’ said Helena, ‘and it would explain how the book ended up in your room.’ 

‘It’s the best theory we have at the moment,’ I said, ‘The problem we have is that with you confined to your room, we currently have no way of identifying them. We are working on something we hope will help, but it’s going to take a couple of weeks, so it might not be ready in time.’ 

‘And you think this Changeling is the one who’s planning on completing this ritual?’ asked Yarrow. 

‘Seems likely,’ I replied, ‘The semi-good news is that because they planned for you to be confined to your room, we’re pretty certain that you’re not the target, as they’ll have no way of getting to you. This does mean that Penny’s the one in danger.’ 

‘And have you warned her yet?’ asked Yarrow, ‘You warned me.’ 

‘It’s not quite as simple as that,’ I said, ‘Due to Penny being the Princess Royal, the likely outcome of being informed of a possible threat to her life would be that the college would be swarmed with security personnel, to ensure that she was protected.’ 

‘But surely that’s a good thing?’ asked Helena, ‘If Penny has people watching her to ensure that she’s safe, then there won’t be any need for you to be involved?’ 

‘Okay, let’s assume I leave here and go and tell Penny that I believe there’s a possible threat to her life,’ I said, ‘Even if she doesn’t believe me, she WILL report it. Likely outcome is that a security detail will be sent to protect her, along with people whose job it is to investigate and neutralise said threat. The reporting of the threat will be traced back to me, I will be questioned and as there is no actual evidence to support this, it would probably result in them declaring it a false alarm and removing the security detail, so we’d be back to where we were before… except for one thing.’ 

‘Which is?’ asked Helena. 

‘I would have been removed from Oakdene and likely “detained,” as any attempt to scry me would reveal my… unique condition.’ 

‘Ah, yes…’ said Helena, ‘I’d forgotten about that. So, if we tell her, there’s the possibility that not only will it not do any good, it could result in you not being around when the ritual is due to take place, so you’d not be able to stop it?’ 

‘Possibly…’ 

Yarrow was looking extremely puzzled. 

‘Will you two stop talking in riddles,’ she said in exasperation, ‘What exactly is this “unique condition” you keep talking about? I remember Helena saying you were more than you appeared to be, but what does that actually mean?’ 

Helena and I looked at one another.  

‘I think we’re going to have to tell her,’ said Helena, ‘It will explain why you can’t afford to be scryed by the authorities…’ 

‘Yeah, I guess so…’ I said, then turned to Yarrow, ‘You’re going to have to take our word for all this, because unlike Helena, you won’t be able to perform a visum memoria on me.’ 

‘Hang on,’ said Yarrow, ‘Are you telling me that you let Helena view your entire memory?’ 

‘Yeah, I did,’ I said ruefully, ‘Not one of my best ideas, to be honest, as it did cause a few issues…’ I reached out and took Helena’s hand in mine, then gave it a squeeze, ‘but we’ve got past that now.’ 

‘Is that why you two were not talking for a while?’ asked Yarrow. 

‘Yes, that was the reason,’ said Helena, ‘it did take me a while to get my head around it. But now that I fully understand the situation, I trust Alex completely… and I hope you will too.’ 

‘Well, you’ve not lied to me so far,’ said Yarrow, ‘not that I know of, anyway…’ 

‘Okay,’ I said, ‘I’ll try to keep this as simple as possible, as it is a bit complicated. Physically, I am what I appear to be, a 17-year-old boy named Alexander Crowe. However, my mind is from approximately 34 years in the future and has been sent back in time to occupy my teenaged body. Now, this is where it gets a bit complicated… the future my mind has been sent back from currently only exists as a potential future, and I have been sent back to prevent that future from ever occurring.’ 

‘O-kay….’ Said Yarrow doubtfully, ‘Say I believe you… why have you been sent back to prevent this future from happening? What’s so wrong with it?’ 

‘There’s no magic in the future Alex’s mind is from,’ said Helena distastefully, ‘I’ve seen it. It’s… wrong.’ 

‘The ritual sacrifice of the Princess Royal, if it goes ahead,’ I said, ‘will rewrite reality. Everything magical will no longer exist, replaced by cold, sterile technology. There will be no dragons, no sorcery and definitely no Geist.’ 

‘So, are you saying that if you don’t stop this ritual,’ asked Yarrow incredulously, ‘I’ll… what, disappear?’ 

‘You, your family, your entire race will cease to exist,’ I said softly, ‘and no-one will even know that you existed in the first place.’ 

‘Oh my God…’ said Yarrow, horrified. 

‘So, you can see why it’s so important that Alex prevents it from happening,’ said Helena. 

Yarrow turned to me. 

‘So, why were you chosen?’ she asked, ‘What makes you the best person to do this?’ 

‘I’m not,’ I said, ‘in fact, I wasn’t even the first OR second choice. Unfortunately, the people responsible for this plot, from the future that my mind comes from, eliminated everyone they felt could possibly pose a threat to their plans. I’m the only one that was left. I am the basket that all metaphorical eggs have been put.’ 

‘And we know when and where the ritual is due to take place,’ said Helena, ‘and we’ve worked out who the target is. The only thing we don’t yet know is who the Changeling is. If we can discover their identity prior to the ritual taking place, we can stop them.’ 

‘With you confined, we can’t use your ability to sense mícheart to identify them,’ I said, ‘but we do have a backup plan. However, if you could remember who was around you when you started feeling ill on the night of the Samhain Ball, it could help.’ 

‘I’ll try to see if I can remember,’ said Yarrow, ‘but there were quite a few people about, so I don’t know if I’ll be much help.’ 

‘Anything you can remember would help,’ I said, ‘but don’t worry about it too much. As I said, we have a backup plan.’ 

As we were walking back to my room, Helena stopped me. 

‘Why didn’t you tell her about your possible erasure from existence?’ she asked. 

‘I think she’s got enough to worry about already,’ I said, ‘If we don’t stop this from happening, her entire race will never have existed.’ 

It took an additional couple of weeks for the tincture of Rowanberry to finally be ready, by which time both Helena and Sophie were fed up with me badgering them every day, asking when it would be done. 

‘If you’d paid more attention in Alchemy class,’ explained Helena, ‘you’d know that these things take time… and you probably wouldn’t have been chucked out.’ 

‘Fair point,’ I conceded, ‘so, what do we need to do with it?’ 

Sophie had supplied us with a couple of atomiser spray bottles, which had previously contained perfume and had been thoroughly cleaned.  

‘So, we’ll decant the tincture into these atomisers,’ explained Helena, holding one up, ‘They’re small enough to be carried in a pocket, so it won’t be obvious what we’re up to.’ 

‘And then?’ 

‘I guess we spray anyone we think may be the Changeling, and see if they react,’ said Helena. She looked up and noted my somewhat dubious expression and sighed. 

‘I know it’s not the greatest plan in the world, but at the moment, it’s the only one we have.’  

‘I think the first thing we need to actually do is smell the tincture ourselves,’ I said, ‘If it smells disgusting, then everyone will react badly to it, and we’ll be no closer in identifying the Changeling.’ 

‘Good point,’ said Helena, and held the bottle up to her nose and sniffed. 

‘Well?’ I asked. 

‘It smells fruity,’ she said, ‘Here, you try…’ 

I took the bottle and cautiously sniffed. The scent was familiar… 

‘It smells like cranberry juice,’ I said, handing the bottle back, ‘I think we can safely assume that if anyone does have an adverse reaction to it, they ARE the Changeling.’ 

As we were decanting the tincture into the atomisers, a thought occurred to me. 

‘I think I may have detected a few flaws in our plan…’ I said slowly. 

‘Which are?’ asked Helena. 

‘Well, firstly, I can’t imagine that people will take too kindly to being spritzed, as even if we do it surreptitiously, someone is bound to notice,’ I started, ‘secondly, say we do manage to sneakily spray a couple of people, what happens if they wander off? We won’t be able to keep an eye on everyone we’ve sprayed, so if someone does react badly to the scent, we might not be around to see it.’ 

‘Okay, smartarse,’ said Helena in exasperation, ‘have you got a better idea?’ 

‘I think so. If we pretend that this…’ I brandished the atomiser, ‘is a new perfume you’ve developed as an alchemy project, and you need some feedback from other students as to whether or not they like the scent. We can then approach our suspects, get them to sniff it and gauge their reaction. I’ll write a list of all the students from our year and pretend to write notes on their reactions. Obviously, we’ll try and target our suspects first, but if we include everyone, including our House, it won’t look like we’re singling people out.’ 

‘That’s… actually pretty clever, Alex,’ said Helena, ‘as well as being a bit sneaky.’ 

‘However, the important thing to remember is that if we DO identify the Changeling, we can’t react, otherwise they’ll know we’re on to them…’ 

Helena looked slightly alarmed at this. 

‘They wouldn’t try anything, though, would they?’ she asked nervously. 

‘As the ritual is due to take place in nine days’ time, they can’t afford to be exposed before then,’ I said, ‘However, due to that fact, they can’t act directly against us, as this will not only expose their hand, but also draw unwanted attention. It’s likely that if they DO suspect that we know, they’ll pull some kind of stunt to take us out of the picture, similar to what they did to Yarrow.’ 

‘So, we’re not going to get murdered or anything, then?’ asked Helena. 

‘I would say that’s highly unlikely,’ I said, with a confidence I didn’t really feel. I just hoped that I was right in my assessment of our shadowy foe. 

Having prepared a list of the students in our year, we headed down to the Dining Hall, as the majority of the students would be present for the evening meal, giving us our best shot at eliminating a good handful from our list of suspects.  

We had decided that we’d approach Penny’s table first, as it was likely that the Changeling would be part of her normal entourage or sitting close by, as in order to get Penny to the designated spot on the night of the ritual, we reasoned they would have befriended her and therefore gained her trust. 

Sitting with Penny that evening were James Darling, Annabelle Ende, Nicola Quince and Emma Fry from Watkins House and Emma James from Scot House – as the two Emmas had gravitated towards one another during the first week of term and were now pretty much inseparable. As they looked very similar, it was sometimes difficult to remember which one was which.  

Aubrey was sitting on a separate table with his two cronies, Ian and Roger, whilst the Mark Levin perched on the end of the same table, nose in a book as usual. 

As this fake “project” was supposedly Helena’s work, I let her do the talking. 

‘Hi everyone,’ said Helena brightly, ‘I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind giving me a little bit of help with a class project? It won’t take up too much of your time – I just need some honest feedback on a new scent I’ve been working on…’ 

‘What, like a perfume?’ asked James, ‘Not sure I’d be much help with that…’ 

‘Don’t be so sure,’ said Helena, ‘I think having a man’s opinion would be good.’ 

James visibly perked up at being referred to as a man and he leaned forward. 

‘Well, in that case,’ he said, ‘Let’s have a whiff.’ 

Helena sprayed some of the tincture on her wrist and held it forward for James to sniff. 

‘Hmmm…’ he said, ‘That’s quite nice. Not too strong… smells a bit fruity, like blackcurrant cordial…’ 

I pretended to make a note of his comments, whilst actually just crossing out his name. One down. 

Once the ball had been set rolling, it didn’t take too long for the rest of the table to get involved, with the majority of them commenting favourably on the scent, although Annabelle stated that she wouldn’t wear it, as she preferred perfumes that were stronger and more floral. 

James pulled a face behind her back, holding his nose and pointing at her, which made me chuckle, but earned a thump from Annabelle once she realised what he was doing. 

Penny was quite interested in the “perfume,” asking what its ingredients were and before I could stop her, Helena has stated that the main ingredient was rowanberries. 

She hadn’t said it particularly loudly, but a lull in the conversation meant that her voice had carried. Cursing her, I surreptitiously glanced about, to see if anyone had perked up at the mention of rowanberries, but no-one seemed to be paying us more attention than usual… other than Aubrey, who was scowling at me from his table. 

‘So, that went quite well,’ said Helena, after she’d finished speaking to Penny, then noticed the concerned look on my face, ‘What’s the matter?’ 

I drew her to one side. 

‘I know it wasn’t intentional,’ I said quietly, ‘but you did just announce the main ingredient of the tincture to all and sundry… which might include the Changeling.’  

I let this sink in, watching as the realisation dawned on her face as to what she had inadvertently done. 

‘Oh God, Alex, I’m so sorry!’ Exclaimed Helena, ‘it just sort of came out…’ 

‘There’s nothing we can do about it now,’ I continued, ‘so we’re just going to have to hope that if the Changeling IS here this evening, they weren’t paying attention. At least we’ve managed to whittle down our list of suspects a bit.’ 

Helena leaned forward to look at the list. 

‘How many are left?’ she asked. 

‘Fourteen,’ I said, looking around, ‘As it looks like everyone’s heading off for the evening, we’ll have to start again tomorrow. We’ve still got just over a week before the ritual is due to take place, so we’ve got plenty of time.’ 

I should have realised that things wouldn’t go quite as smoothly as I anticipated, but I wouldn’t find out the latest impediment to our plans until the following morning… 

As Helena had not shown up for breakfast the following morning, which was unlike her, I’d gone straight to her room afterwards to check on her, but there was no answer, and the door was locked.  

I was starting to get a little concerned, so was very relieved when she stormed into Dr Noyce’s classroom for double Lithometry, her face like thunder. She threw her bag down on the desk and then slumped in her chair, scowling. 

‘Right, it’s obvious that something’s wrong,’ I said quietly, ‘so you might as well tell me.’ 

Helena looked across at me, biting her lip. I could tell she was close to tears, so I reached out below the desk and took her hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. 

‘Tell me…’ I said softly. 

‘Someone…’ she began, voice thick with emotion, ‘reported me to Dr Stone. I had to go and see her this morning and got a right bollocking. Apparently, the “unauthorised” use of alchemy supplies for private projects is not allowed. Not only have I got detention for the next week, she’s also confiscated ALL of the tincture we made.’ 

‘Oh shit…’ I said. 

‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘so, we’ve now got NO way of telling who the Changeling is before the ritual.’ 

I gave this some thought. 

‘Whilst it’s not ideal, ‘I said, ‘it could’ve been worse. We at least know where and when it’s due to take place and who the likely victim is. Whilst the Changeling might suspect that we’re on to them, they don’t know that we know what they’re up to. It still gives us the advantage…’ 

Or so I hoped. Our elusive quarry was proving to be as cunning and slippery as a greased weasel.

Chapter XXVI – The Grandfather Paradox

It took a couple of days for Helena to get over the bombshell I’d dropped on her about my possible erasure from existence. However, once she had, she did make some valuable suggestions. 

‘Firstly, as we know that Yarrow is confined to her room for the foreseeable future,’ she said, ‘and can only be released by one of the faculty, I think it’s pretty certain that Penny is the target of the Changeling, so you need to keep a close eye on her, as we might be able to work out which of the other students IS the Changeling based on how friendly they are with her.’ 

‘Sounds like a reasonable plan,’ I said, ‘especially as you’ll be busy with Sophie.’ 

‘Secondly, keep practicing your defensive shield. I know it’s pretty good, but extra practice will hopefully make it stronger and there will be less chance of you getting hurt.’ 

‘Okay.’ 

‘Thirdly, you need to talk to the Cat about the mind-wipe thingy. I know you said it’s only a possibility, but it may be able to confirm if it will definitely happen and therefore might know a way around it.’ 

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ I said, ‘That’s a brilliant idea.’ 

Helena flushed at the compliment. 

‘I don’t want to lose the Alex I know,’ she said, ‘I like him…quite a lot.’ 

‘I know you do,’ I said, ‘I quite like him too.’ 

As Penny and I had resolved our difference, the first part was relatively easy, so I took every opportunity I could to talk to her, making a note of who was in her circle of acquaintances. Unsurprisingly, it was mostly students from Watkins House, other than the ever-present Aubrey, although following on from the events of the Samhain Ball, Aubrey didn’t seem to be as much in favour as he had been. 

Which he naturally blamed me for, as he seemed incapable of recognising his own part in his fall from grace. 

Strangely, rather than confront me about this and threaten me, which I would have expected, he began to furtively follow me about. At least, I assumed that was his intention, as he wasn’t very good at it, guiltily starting when I noticed him watching me.  

Initially, his inept attempts at spy-craft amused me, but it became burdensome, as his constant presence prevented me from discussing my plans with Helena unless behind closed doors – and even then, I’d have to check the corridor to ensure he wasn’t skulking about. 

‘I really don’t know what’s got into him,’ I said to Helena one evening, as we were talking in my room, ‘everywhere I go, there he is. For some reason, he’s decided to spy on me. Seems like he’s been questioning some of our friends too, asking if they thought I knew anything about Yarrow stealing the book and whether I’d convinced her to do it on my behalf.’  

‘That IS really odd,’ said Helena, ‘I know he doesn’t like you much, but it’s almost like he’s trying to find some evidence that you were involved.’ 

‘Well, he’s wasting his time then, because we both know I wasn’t. However, it IS quite annoying having him follow me around all the time.’ 

‘Have you spoken to the Cat yet?’ asked Helena. 

‘No, I was going to do that now,’ I replied, ‘I was waiting until you were present, as that way you could ask questions that I might not have thought of. It’s a shame you can’t see and hear it too, as that would save me relaying stuff back and forth.’ 

I walked over to the mirror and looked into it. 

‘Cat, are you there?’ I called. There was movement in the mirror and the Cat jumped up onto the bed and stared at me.  

‘If you’re going to ask me whether the event is still due to take place,’ said the Cat in a bored voice, ‘the answer is still “Yes.” You do realise that I have other things to do rather than act like some kind of “magic mirror” for you, don’t you? And before you ask, I have no idea who the “fairest of them all” is…’ The Cat peered around me, ‘But your friend there IS quite attractive…’ 

‘Regarding my friend,’ I said, ‘Is there any way that she would be able to see you?’ 

The Cat appeared to give this some thought. 

‘The reason you can see me is because of the tachyon particulate clinging to you due to your passage back through time,’ it replied, ‘Think of it like travelling along a dusty road, with the “dust” surrounding you in a cloud at the end of your journey….’ 

‘So, a bit like the character Pig-Pen from the Peanuts comic?’ 

‘Hmm, good analogy…’ said the Cat, ‘Anyway, anyone in close proximity to you, ideally touching you, should potentially be able to see and hear me.’ 

I turned to Helena. 

‘The Cat thinks that if you’re touching me, you may be able to see it,’ I said. 

‘Are you sure this is not just an excuse to cuddle me?’ smiled Helena getting up, ‘I’ve only got your word that this cat actually exists…’ 

‘If I wanted to hug you, I wouldn’t need an excuse,’ I said, ‘I’d just do it. Now get your arse over here.’ 

Helena grinned at me and came and stood in front of me, letting me wrap my arms around her from behind. 

‘Now what?’ she asked. 

‘Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3,’ said the Cat, ‘Are you reading me? Over…’ 

‘Oh my God…’ breathed Helena, ‘I can see it…’ 

‘And a good evening to you, Miss Morgan,’ said the Cat, ‘Nice to finally make your acquaintance.’ 

‘Hello,’ said Helena shyly, ‘Do you have a name?’ 

‘I like her, Alexander,’ said the Cat, ‘At least she could be bothered to ask me…unlike you.’ 

‘Um…’ I said, ‘You have a point. I never thought to ask.’ 

‘It’s actually irrelevant, as I don’t actually have what you would consider to be a name,’ said the Cat, ‘and even if I did, I don’t think you’d be able to pronounce it. But it was nice to be asked. Anyway, what can I do for you?’ 

‘We have a question for you,’ said Helena, ‘Alex’s mind is from the future, but what will happen to it if he prevents reality from being overwritten? Alex thinks that because there won’t be a future from his mind to come back from, there’s a chance that his current mind will be wiped and revert back to what it was before he was sent back. Is that right?’ 

‘Interesting question,’ said the Cat, ‘and relates to what is known as The Grandfather Paradox…’ 

‘What’s that?’ asked Helena, confused. 

‘Crap, I’d forgotten about that,’ I said, ‘That complicates things.’ 

‘I don’t understand…,’ said Helena. 

‘Basically,’ said the Cat, ‘The Grandfather Paradox suggests that if a time-traveller went back in time and killed his own grandfather, this would prevent either his mother or father from being born, and thus his own birth, so if he were never born, how was he able to go back in time and kill his grandfather in the first place? It’s a paradox, i.e., logically self-contradictory. The same thing kind of applies here. Alexander has travelled back in time, but if he is successful in preventing the rewriting of reality, then the future his mind was sent back from will no longer exist, so how could it have been sent back?’ 

‘So, logically AND scientifically,’ I said slowly, ‘the only way this whole situation will work is if I fail, as that way it will create my future mind to be sent back, but this will result in a recursive time loop, with the events just repeating themselves ad infinitum?’ 

‘Logically and scientifically, yes,’ said the Cat, ‘However, this is all pure theory, as YOU are the only being from the physical timeline that I’ve ever encountered that has successfully travelled through time, if only mentally. We also have to take into account that as the event you are trying to stop will rewrite reality, effectively changing the fundamental laws of the universe, nothing is certain.’ 

‘So, in other words,’ said Helena, ‘We won’t know what will happen, until after it’s happened?’ 

‘I’m afraid so,’ said the Cat. 

‘Okay,’ said Helena, ‘Say Alex’s theory IS correct and that his prevention of the rewriting of reality does result in a reversion to the original version of Alex from this pre-cataclysm timeline… is there any possible way to prevent that?’ 

‘An intriguing question…’ said the Cat, ‘I suppose that if Alexander stepped through the glass into MY realm at the exact moment that reality was due to be overwritten, his mind would remain intact as it is now, as he would be outside of reality and not subject to any of its laws.’  

‘Then let’s do that,’ said Helena in relief. 

‘However,’ interrupted the Cat, ‘Alexander can only enter AND exit my realm due to the tachyon particulate clinging to him. This will be burnt off the longer he remains on this side of the glass and when it is all gone, he would be trapped here, able to see the world he came from, but unable to return to it.’ 

‘That doesn’t sound pleasant,’ I said, ‘What’s it like your side of the glass?’ 

‘It’s a reflection of your world but would appear slightly skewed from your point of view, as certain things are reversed,’ said the Cat, ‘If a door is open your side, if would be closed this side, for example. And entities from your world show their true faces on this side of the glass. You, Alexander, appear this side of the glass as an adult, surrounded by a haze of sparkling motes, representing the tachyon particulate clinging to you.’ 

‘If I were to become trapped your side of the glass, what would happen to me?’ I asked.  

‘You’d probably lose your mind,’ said the Cat simply. 

‘Then you’d best make sure that you don’t stay in there too long, Alex,’ said Helena, ‘I need you to come back to me – preferably the same Alex that went in.’ 

‘This is all theoretical at present,’ I said, ‘We’re currently planning for a possible eventuality, so there’s nothing to say that my mind will actually be affected by the rewriting of reality. And then we have to consider the logistics of “stepping through” – there will need to be a mirror big enough for me to get through available at the exact moment reality is due to change. As we don’t currently know where this event is due to take place, how can we ensure that? It’s not like we can plant mirrors everywhere…’ 

‘Ah, but we don’t need to,’ said Helena, ‘We know that due to the date, the ritual is a sacrifice to Saturn, so it will have to take place somewhere that has already been dedicated to him. And as we know it’s got to be on the grounds of the college, that only really leaves one place.’ 

‘Which is?’ 

‘The chapel across from the theatre,’ said Helena, ‘It’s multi-denominational, so it’s dedicated to lots of gods, as people have different religious leanings, so they have to cater for everyone.’ 

‘Back in my world, they only worship the one god,’ I said, ‘Well, there are different religions, but they tend to have separate places of worship, so I just assumed that it was a normal church.’  

‘Just the one god?’ queried Helena, ‘How weird. What’s the name of this god?’ 

‘Um… just God.’ I said, ‘Well, different religions call him by different names, but the main religion of MY England just refers to him as God.’ 

‘That is so odd…’ said Helena, ‘Anyway, as far as I am aware, the chapel is the only place that’s dedicated to Saturn, so it should be relatively easy to get a reasonably sized mirror in there.’ She addressed the Cat, ‘Cat, how big does this mirror need to be?’ 

‘Big enough for Alexander to get through, so I’d estimate about four feet square at minimum,’ said the Cat, ‘and the glass will need to be intact. Any cracks will prevent it being used as a portal.’ 

‘You’ve said that I can cross back and forth due to the tachyon particulate that I’ve gathered from my journey through time,’ I said, ‘and you can travel back and forth along the timeline yourself, due to your nature, correct?’ The Cat nodded. ‘Okay, so how come you can’t cross into our world?’ 

‘Well, technically, I could,’ said the Cat, ‘However, a barrier exists between your world and mine that I cannot cross. If this barrier were breached, I could temporarily manifest in your world, but these breaches tend to repair themselves fairly quickly. As soon as this occurred, I would automatically be drawn back into my realm. As my true form is not as…palatable to the eye as the one you perceive, it’s probably for the best that I stay this side of the glass.’ 

‘So, if I’m your side of the glass, I’d see you in your true form?’ I asked. 

‘You would, Alexander,’ answered the Cat, ‘but I wouldn’t recommend it, if you value your sanity.’ 

‘Good tip. If and when the time comes – don’t look directly at you,’ I said, ‘Right, we need to find a mirror of the relevant size and conceal it somewhere in the chapel, prior to the 17^{th of} December. Let’s hope that we can identify and disable the Changeling before we need it.’ 

As the chapel was never locked, due to different religions observing different times of worship, getting into the chapel would not prove a problem. However, we had decided to scout the chapel first, as there was no point finding a mirror of the necessary size and hiding it in there if there was already one place. 

This was the first time I had set foot in a place of worship for a number of years, the last being when I’d attended the wedding of some friends in 2015 – my past from a mental point of view, but my future from a temporal point of view. 

As with most churches, the interior rose two storeys, with the arched roof being supported by exposed wooden beams. Eight stained glass windows, high above our heads, ran along each of the chapel’s long walls, below which were alcoves containing a shrine to whichever God was depicted in the window above. A double row of wooden pews ran down the centre, back-to-back, facing the shrines. 

‘Right,’ I said to Helena, ‘where’s the shrine to Saturn?’ 

‘Last one on the left,’ she said, pointing. 

I walked down the nave, glancing at the shrines as I went. Each alcove contained a small altar, with a statue of the relevant deity at the rear and various offerings left in front of them. 

I reached the shrine to Saturn and looked it over. The statue depicted a muscular bearded man, in sandals and a toga, cradling a cornucopia in his left arm, overflowing with flowers, fruit and corn, indicating his role as a harvest deity. Various offerings had been left on the altar, including a loaf baked in the shape of a wheatsheaf, a bowl of fruit and a tin of peach halves. 

Having satisfied myself, I began to look around the rest of the chapel, looking to see if there was a mirror already present. 

‘I found one!’ called Helena, from back towards the door, ‘but I don’t think it’ll be much use…’ 

She was brandishing a hand mirror, about six inches in diameter. 

‘I may be slim, but I don’t think I’ll fit through there…’ I said wryly, ‘What’s it doing here?’ 

‘Offering to Venus,’ said Helena, ‘as she is the goddess of beauty, amongst other things.’ 

Having had a good look around, I returned to Helena’s side. 

‘I think we’re going to have to plant a mirror in here,’ I said, ‘If we lean it face inwards against the wall in the West transept, I reckon it’ll just be ignored.’ 

‘The West what?’ asked Helena. 

‘Transept,’ I said, ‘it’s the bit that runs across the nave.’ Helena was looking at me blankly. 

‘The nave is main body of the chapel, running from the doors down there up to the other end,’ I said pointing, ‘the transept is the bit that runs perpendicular to this, the rectangular area just in front of the curved bit at the top. And the West transept is the bit on the left.’ 

‘How do you know all that?’ asked Helena, looking puzzled.  

‘It’s something I studied in school,’ I said, ‘we had to draw the floor plan of a church and label the various bits. Obviously, that bit stuck. I could probably tell you what all the other bits are called too, but it’s not really that interesting… or useful.’ 

‘I’ll pass,’ said Helena drily, ‘So, where are we going to get a mirror from?’ 

‘Probably the best option is to borrow one from Mama Lucia,’ I said, ‘She’s got plenty and the theatre’s just across from here. Although, I think I’ll leave that until Friday morning.’ 

‘Any particular reason why?’ 

‘Because I’ve got the first two periods free, whilst Aubrey will be in Alchemy class along with you, so I won’t have to worry about him following me and wondering what I’m doing.’ 

‘Good point,’ said Helena, ‘There’s no point giving him more fuel for his conspiracy theories.’ 

So that’s what I did. 

Chapter XXV – A Fruitful Evening

‘This one?’ I asked, pointing, ‘It’s got red berries…’ 

‘No,’ said Helena, looking at the book on her lap, ‘the leaves are the wrong shape… I think that might be a Hawthorn.’  

After we’d finished our lessons the following day, we had quickly changed into more appropriate clothing and footwear, then headed off into the Arboretum.  

Helena was sitting on a tree stump referring to the book we’d “borrowed” from the Library, whilst I ranged about, examining trees. 

As neither of us was well-versed in botany, we hadn’t realised that there were so many different trees and shrubs that produced red fruit, so whilst we had found several potential candidates, none of them proved to be the Rowan tree we were looking for.  

It was becoming a little frustrating, and, due to the fact that in order to examine some of the trees more closely, I’d had to plunge into dripping undergrowth, resulting in the lower part of my jeans now being soaked through, my mood had taken a definite turn for the worse. 

‘I thought you were country girl?’ I complained, ‘Surely knowing which trees are which is something you ought to know?’ 

‘Just because I live on a farm, doesn’t mean I know anything about trees,’ said Helena waspishly, ‘It’s a sheep farm, you know, rolling green fields and all that. It’s not like we have a great deal of trees about.’ She looked around the clearing, ‘What about that one over there?’ 

I rolled my eyes, sighed, and made my way over to the one she’d indicated. 

‘Nope, definitely not,’ I called back. 

‘Are you sure?’ asked Helena. 

‘Of course I’m sure!’ I snapped, ‘Even I can tell what a bloody Holly bush is…’  

Somehow, upon turning suddenly to vent my frustration on Helena, I’d managed to get my feet tangled in the undergrowth and teetered for a moment, before falling backwards into the Holly bush. 

Helena jumped up and made her way cautiously over. 

‘Are you alright, Alex?’ she said in concern. 

‘I’m fucking fantastic,’ I replied, ‘Not only am I now completely soaked through…’ I struggled for a moment in the embrace of the Holly bush, ‘I also appear to be stuck.’ 

‘Stop thrashing about and give me your hand,’ said Helena, ‘I’ll see if I can pull you out.’ 

She put the book down and grabbed my free hand with hers, then leant back, tugging on my arm. I shifted a little, but I appeared to be well and truly lodged in place. 

‘Wonderful,’ I said dryly, ‘Not only have we failed miserably to find a Rowan tree, but now I’m jammed in a fucking Holly bush. The Bandersnatch will be so pleased to see me again…they’re probably tucking little napkins into their collars and licking their lips as we speak.’ 

Helena covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh. 

‘You’d best not be laughing at me…’ I growled, struggling to get free. 

‘I can’t help it,’ said Helena, giggling, ‘You look so funny…’ 

‘I thought I heard voices,’ said a familiar male voice, ‘What brings you two back into the Arboretum, especially as it’s nearly dark?’ 

Mr Ware had appeared from amongst the trees, a questioning look on his face. 

‘Hello, Mr Ware,’ said Helena, ‘We were trying to find a Rowan tree and weren’t intending on staying out past sunset, but Alex has managed to get himself stuck…’ 

‘So I see,’ said Mr Ware, walking forward and looking me over, ‘I think we’re going to have to cut your free, lad.’ 

‘That would be appreciated,’ I said, ‘I am quite uncomfortable…’ 

Mr Ware produced a knife, seemingly out of nowhere, and began to cut away the branches ensnaring me in their prickly embrace. Due to being held pretty much immobile, I couldn’t really see what he was doing, but the blade appeared to be quite sharp, as I was soon free. 

‘You’re drenched, lad,’ he said, pulling me upright, ‘I think you’d best come back to mine to dry out, before heading back up to the college.’ 

‘That sounds like a good idea, Mr Ware,’ I said, shivering, ‘I am quite sodden. Don’t forget the book, Helena – we don’t want to give Master Tweed any more reason to tell us off.’ 

‘Oh right…’ she said, picking it up, ‘Actually, we might need to dry this out a bit too.’ 

‘Luckily for you, I’ve already got the fire going,’ said Mr Ware, ‘Follow me.’ 

Once we’d got back to the Keeper’s Cottage, I stripped off my wet coat and jeans and Mr Ware gave me a blanket to wrap myself in, then sat me in a chair by the fire and made the pair of us steaming mugs of cocoa.  

‘Now,’ said Mr Ware, draping my wet clothes over a wooden clothes horse near the fire, ‘why were you two out looking for a Rowan tree?’ 

Helena and I glanced at one another. 

‘It’s for Alchemy class,’ said Helena quickly, ‘We need some Rowan berries for one of the potions and they’d run out, so we decided to see if we could find some ourselves.’ 

‘Dr Stone has run out already?’ asked Mr Ware in surprise, ‘I suppose it’s lucky for you that I harvested more than she asked for. Wait here, and I’ll get some from my stores.’ 

I waited until Mr Ware had left the room, then looked at Helena in exasperation. 

‘Are you telling me that you didn’t think to check the Alchemy stores before we came out here today?’ I said, ‘if you’d done that, we could have saved a lot of time and effort AND I wouldn’t have got soaked to the skin.’ 

‘Sorry, Alex,’ said Helena, flushing in embarrassment, ‘I didn’t realise that they were used for potions – I was just making something up to explain what we were doing and that’s the first thing that sprung to mind.’ 

‘Well, I suppose I can let you off…’ I muttered grumpily, ‘But you’re going to have to make it up to me.’ 

‘And what exactly did you have in mind?’ asked Helena, smiling. 

‘I’m sure I’ll think of something… appropriate.’ I said grinning. 

‘Here you go, Miss Morgan,’ said Mr Ware, walking back into the room carrying an earthenware jar, ‘This should be enough for whatever it is you’re brewing.’ 

As he handed it to Helena, his sleeve pulled back and I noted a heavy bracelet on his right wrist, a dark metallic grey in colour. 

Mr Ware noticed my attention. 

‘Something caught your eye, lad?’ he asked. 

‘Is that the bracelet made from skiron?’ I asked. 

‘How do you know about that?’ he said sharply. 

‘I was speaking to Master Tweed about King Athelstan, and he mentioned that the Vorpal Sword was made from skiron,’ I said, ‘He also said that skiron was quite rare and he’d only ever seen some when he’d asked you about your bracelet.’ 

Mr Ware looked at the bracelet thoughtfully. 

‘I remember Master Tweed being quite interested in this,’ he said, smiling, ‘he’s almost as inquisitive as you.’ 

‘As skiron is really rare, is it some kind of family heirloom, handed down?’ 

‘No,’ answered Mr Ware, ‘It was given into my safekeeping a very long time ago, by a very great man. I was tasked with looking after it until it was claimed by its rightful owner. So far, they’ve not come forward, so it remains with me.’ 

‘Master Tweed said that objects made from skiron have special properties,’ I said, ‘but wasn’t able to elaborate. I know skiron’s fatal to Changelings, but other than that I don’t know much about it…’ 

‘Then you know more than most,’ said Mr Ware softly, looking up, ‘but sometimes it’s better not to know, as it can be a burden.’ 

‘What do you mean? Is the bracelet cursed or something?’ 

‘I think your clothes are now dry enough for you to put them back on,’ said Mr Ware, refusing to be drawn further, ‘I suggest you get dressed and head back up to the college. I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day.’ 

Once I’d got dressed, Helena and I headed back up to the main building, carrying both the book and the jar of Rowan berries. 

‘That was a bit weird, don’t you think?’ I said to Helena, ‘Mr Ware seemed a bit cagey about that bracelet.’ 

‘Maybe he just didn’t want to talk about it,’ said Helena, ‘You were being a bit nosey.’ 

‘I think he’s hiding something,’ I said. 

‘You suspect everyone’s hiding something, Alex. Sometimes people just don’t want to talk about personal stuff.’ 

‘I suppose you have a point,’ I conceded, ‘Now, what are we going to do with these Rowan berries? We can’t just wave them in people’s faces and see if they recoil. We need something a bit more subtle…’ 

‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ said Helena, ‘If we create a tincture with them, we can put that into a perfume bottle or something similar, then we could spray it on ourselves and see who reacts to it.’ 

‘A tincture? What’s that?’ 

‘Were you not listening in Alchemy class?’ 

‘The last Alchemy class I was in resulted in the Purple Fog of Doom.’ 

‘Ah yes, I’d forgotten about that,’ said Helena, ‘Do you know that Dr Stone still doesn’t know how you managed that? She spent a week trying to replicate your “accident” and finally decided that it was “bloody impossible.” Her words, not mine.’ 

‘Impossible stuff seems to follow me around like a bad smell…’ I groused, ‘Anyway… tincture?’ 

‘In Alchemy, a tincture is usually an extract of plant material dissolved in ethyl alcohol, although you could use grain alcohol, like vodka.’ 

‘And is that something that you have access to in Alchemy? The ethyl alcohol, not the vodka…’ 

‘Um, not exactly…’ said Helena, ‘The Alchemy store cupboard can only be accessed by First Years under the direct supervision of Dr Stone. I’d need to be a Second Year Alchemy student to have unsupervised access.’ 

‘Well, that doesn’t help us then, does it?’ I said, then noted that Helena was looking smug, ‘Okay, I’m assuming by your expression that you have a way around that?’ 

‘Yes, I do,’ she said, ‘as we both happen to know someone who IS a Second Year Alchemy student and I think would be willing to help us.’ 

‘Who?’ 

‘Sophie.’   

‘Sophie?! Really?’ 

‘Yeah, she’s really good at Alchemy and is thinking about doing a degree in it.’ 

‘How come I don’t know about this?’ 

‘Because, Alex,’ said Helena seriously, ‘I do actually have conversations with people other than you.’  

‘That was a dig, wasn’t it?’ I said. Helena nodded, ‘Fair point. But you think she’ll help us?’ 

‘If YOU ask her nicely, I’m sure she will,’ said Helena smirking, ‘she does like you quite a lot, after all.’ 

‘I do have that effect on women,’ I said drily, ‘I’m surprised you could keep your hands off me once I’d taken my jeans off.’ 

‘You wish,’ said Helena, laughing. 

‘I don’t need to wish,’ I said grinning, ‘You owe me, remember? And I think I know exactly how you can make it up to me…’ 

After dinner, we made our way up to the second floor and knocked on Sophie’s door.  

‘Hang on!’ called a voice, ‘I just need to throw something on…’ 

‘No need, I’ve seen you in your underwear already!’ I called back, which earned me a thump on the arm from Helena. 

‘What?’ I said, rubbing my arm, ‘It’s true…’ 

‘That’s not the point,’ said Helena, scowling. 

The door was flung open, with Sophie shrugging herself into a robe. 

‘Hi Alex,’ she purred, then noticed Helena, ‘Oops, didn’t see you there, Helena… what can I do for you?’ 

‘Can we come in?’ I asked, ‘We need a favour…’ 

Sophie looked puzzled, but stepped back and ushered us in, closing the door behind her. 

‘Sorry, it’s a bit untidy,’ she said, picking up various items of clothing and stuffing them into drawers, ‘I wasn’t expecting company…’ 

Sophie’s room was almost double the size of my room and overlooked the front courtyard, but unlike my room, was quite messy. Clothing was scattered across the floor and draped over the backs of chairs, and books were piled haphazardly on nearly every surface, with a piece of what looked like toast being used as a bookmark in one of them.  

However, whilst the rest of the room was pretty untidy, there was one area that was ordered and neat, that being Sophie’s desk. Various Alchemical equipment was arrayed across its surface, with flasks and beakers neatly arranged by size. An open case stood to the rear, with several shelves of small, stoppered vials, each labelled in neat, curling script. In the centre of the desk stood a small cauldron, bubbling merrily away, under which was a circular glass tank, containing a salamander. 

Sophie noticed my gaze and stepped forward, leaning over the cauldron. She sniffed once, frowned in thought, then took a pinch of brown powder and tossed it into the cauldron, then gave it a quick stir. She then nodded in satisfaction and turned to us. 

‘I’d just like to point out that I don’t usually do Alchemical research in my underwear,’ she said, ‘Prior to your arrival, that…’ she said pointing to the cauldron, ‘got a little bit vigorous. I’d just finished cleaning up the spillage and was getting changed out of my wet clothes when you knocked.’ 

‘Wet clothes seems to be a theme for today,’ I said drily, ‘I had a similar issue earlier, although that WAS Helena’s fault…’ 

‘For which I’ve already apologised,’ said Helena sourly, ‘so stop going on about it.’ 

‘Once you’ve made it up to me, I will,’ I said, ‘up until that point…’ 

‘Was there actually something you wanted?’ interrupted Sophie, ‘or did you just come to see me so you could squabble in my room? I get enough of that at home…’ 

‘Sorry, Sophie,’ said Helena, ‘Alex and I have a favour to ask…’ 

‘Go on,’ said Sophie. 

‘We need a tincture of Rowanberry,’ said Helena, ‘We’ve got the berries, but need some ethyl alcohol and, as it’s not part of the curriculum, I don’t think Dr Stone will let me have some from the Alchemy stores…’ 

‘And I’m banned from the Alchemy lab,’ I said, ‘So I can’t get it either.’ 

‘A tincture of Rowanberry?’ asked Sophie, ‘That’s not something I’ve come across in my studies. Any particular reason why you need it?’ 

Helena and I looked at one another. 

‘We can’t tell you,’ I said, ‘I wish we could, but the less people that know about this, the better. All I can say is that it is important that we get some and once this is all over, Helena will explain everything.’ 

Helena looked at me with a start. 

‘Why me?’ she asked, ‘Why can’t you do it?’ 

‘I’ll explain later,’ I replied, then turned back to Sophie, ‘My understanding is that a tincture of Rowanberry is not actually dangerous, but we can’t make it ourselves, as we don’t have access to one of the necessary ingredients. You do. We’re not technically breaking any rules here, we’re just asking for your help. And we’ll understand if you don’t feel comfortable doing this and say no.’ 

Sophie looked back and forth between Helena and I, obviously judging whether we were being serious. 

‘And if I do this for you,’ she said, ‘what’s in it for me?’ 

‘What do you want?’ asked Helena. 

‘Give me half an hour alone with Alex…’ 

‘What?!’ exclaimed Helena. 

Sophie started laughing. 

‘That was worth it just for the expression on your face,’ she laughed, ‘I was winding you up. You’ve obviously got your reasons for not being able to tell me and, as Alex stated, it’s not a dangerous elixir, so of course I’ll help. Probably best if you give me the berries and I’ll do it here in my room – that way no-one will be the wiser. You can help, Helena, if you’d like. However, given your previous history with Alchemy, Alex, it might be best if you stay out of it – but we may need to borrow Errol.’ 

‘Why?’ I asked. 

‘We’ll need to freeze the berries before we add the ethyl alcohol,’ said Helena, ‘it’ll reduce the acidity and make it easier for the essence of the Rowanberries to be absorbed.’ 

‘And my lack of knowledge is one of the many reasons I’m banned from the Alchemy lab,’ I said, ‘that and the glass-eating toxic purple smoke…’ 

We agreed that once Sophie had secured the ethyl alcohol, she’d let us know and I’d send the pre-frozen (courtesy of Errol) jar of Rowan berries along with Helena. Sophie warned us that it could take up to six weeks for it to be ready, which was cutting it a bit fine, as we only had about five and half before the ritual was due to take place. But we didn’t really have a choice. 

Helena was quiet on the way back to my room and immediately turned to me once we’d arrived. 

‘Why did you say that I would explain everything to Sophie, once this was all over?’ she asked, ‘Surely it would be better coming from you, as you know more?’ 

‘Well, I might not be in a position to explain,’ I replied. 

‘I’m not sure I understand…’ said Helena. 

‘I’ll try to explain,’ I said, ‘but bear in mind this is currently just theoretical, as I don’t know for certain. We know that currently there is a plot to perform a sacrificial blood ritual on 17^th December which, if successful, will result in this reality being over-written, producing the future that I remember and from which my mind was sent back, correct?’ Helena nodded. ‘The future version of you from this over-written reality will then send my mind back in time from this future, May 2020 to be precise, and everything that has happened up to this point will then occur. Now, this is where it gets tricky…’ 

I paused to marshal my thoughts. 

‘If I fail to prevent the ritual from taking place, then reality will get over-written, and the whole process will start again. However, If I succeed, there are three possible options. First, everyone survives, and reality continues as it is now, with no changes, other than a hopefully dead Changeling. Second, whilst preventing the ritual from happening, I suffer a fatal injury, which results in my death…’ Helena’s face had gone white at this, and I could see tears forming in her eyes. I turned away, as I knew that if I looked at her there was chance I’d start crying too. 

‘Third, I prevent the ritual from happening, but because of this, the future that my mind came from will no longer exist as a possibility. As there would be no future for my mind to come from, it is possible that my mind would therefore revert to the Alex that existed before I was sent back. In essence, the Alex that you have come to know and care about would be wiped from existence, leaving behind a very confused 17-year-old Alex with a three-month gap in his memories.’ 

‘Are you saying that there’s a chance that if you succeed,’ asked Helena, ‘that you won’t be you?’ 

‘Yeah, I guess so…’ I said, my voice thick with emotion. 

‘And the Alex who’ll be left behind won’t know what he’s done and… and…’ Helena was now actually crying, ‘won’t even know who I am?’ 

‘It’s a possibility…’ 

‘Oh Alex,’ sobbed Helena, ‘Why didn’t you tell me all this before?’ 

‘I didn’t want to burden you even more,’ I said, turning back to her, ‘I’ve already messed with your head enough. I’m trying to save your world, trying to save the friends I’ve gained since I’ve been here, trying to save you. I couldn’t save the woman I loved before, so I’m not about to let the same thing happen again.’ 

Helena looked up at me through tear-filled eyes, realising what I’d meant by what I’d said and launched herself at me, enveloping me in her arms and hugging me tightly. 

Nothing more was said or needed to be.

Chapter XXIV – A Wolf in the Fold

There are many things in life that irritate me – people who play music just loud enough so that you can hear it, but not quite loud enough to be able to identify the particular track; drivers who seem to think that dipping your headlights to prevent blinding other road users applies to everyone else except them; and those wankers who start sentences with ‘You know what your problem is…’ and then proceed to advise you what you’re doing wrong and how, by following their expert advice, you can improve your standing with the world as a whole. 

I know some may think it irrational to get wound up over what they may consider “petty annoyances,” but as far as I’m concerned, this kind of behaviour just underlines the fact that these people have no consideration for the others, so it’s entirely justified that they be consigned to the Pit, to roast screaming in Hellfire for all eternity.  

That’ll learn ‘em. 

However, the things that really annoys me, is when someone proves to be cleverer than I thought they were, as it this makes me look like an idiot. 

Which I’m not. 

Well, most of the time – we all have our off days… 

Anyway, this latest stratagem by our shadowy nemesis proved that they were a little more cunning than I had supposed, as by implicating Yarrow in the theft of the book, they had effectively removed her from the playing field, leaving us with no conclusive way of identifying them prior to the ritual taking place. 

They were probably hugging themselves in glee, congratulating themselves on how very clever they were. 

But they had failed to take into account who they were dealing with. As future Helena had stated, I’m a stubborn and suspicious bastard and, like an angry badger, backing me into a corner just makes me more determined to fight. 

When we got back to my room, I started to pace back and forth, as this helps me to think. Helena, recognising the expression on my face, left me to it, knowing that once I had worked out what I needed to, I would then start talking. 

‘Right,’ I said, coming to a halt, ‘I’m going to talk this through, just to see whether it makes sense. I’m relying on you to be the voice of reason here, so if you think I’m jumping to conclusions or talking out my arse, you need to say, okay?’ 

‘Of course, Alex,’ agreed Helena. 

‘So, we believe our opponent – let’s call him Mister X for the time being – planted the book in Yarrow’s room, knowing that it would be found, correct?’ Helena nodded. 

‘Okay, so they must have known that once it was found, due to her Geist heritage, Yarrow would not be able to categorically confirm that she had nothing to do with it. This suggests that they know enough about Geist to know that Scrying doesn’t work on them. Now, is this something that is common knowledge?’ 

‘Anyone who has studied Scrying would know that, so it IS pretty much generally known,’ said Helena. 

‘Now, this is where it gets interesting,’ I said, ‘Mister X took Yarrow out of commission, as they were aware that due their corruption by dark magic, she could identify them. However, by doing so, they have started a process whereby another Geist, specifically one who investigates “crimes” committed by Geist, will be coming to Oakdene. What’s to prevent that Geist from identifying Mister X?’ 

‘Depends on how long it takes for them to arrive, I suppose,’ said Helena, ‘Dr Vayne did say it might take some time…’ 

‘Okay, let’s assume that Mister X knew that their actions would result in Yarrow being confined AND that a Geist… er… what was that term?’ 

‘Iarrthóir fírinne… I think,’ said Helena. 

‘Right, the iarrthóir fírinne would be called AND that when they arrived, they would be able to identify Mister X immediately. Now, if they DID know this, they must have been confident that the other Geist would either not arrive before the ritual was due to take place, due to bureaucratic red tape, or that if they did arrive before the ritual, Yarrow would be removed from the college for questioning, meaning that Mister X would just need to make themselves scarce on the day the Geist collected her.’ 

‘Let’s assume that’s all correct,’ said Helena, ‘What are you getting at?’ 

‘How would they know enough about Geist society, specifically how the Geist High Council would deal with something like this, which is NOT common knowledge, unless…’ 

‘…they were a Geist themselves,’ finished Helena, looking startled. 

‘That would also explain how they were able to touch the book, as we know the blood-lock enchantment doesn’t affect Geist. It all fits.’ 

‘But hang on a second,’ said Helena, ‘If there was another Geist attending the college, especially if it was one of the other First Years from Watkins or Scot House as we suspect, surely the college would know?’ 

‘That depends,’ I said, ‘The college was expecting thirty students to arrive on the 1^st of September and that’s what they got. They would have received the files from their previous school, but if our hypothetical Geist had replaced the student who was due to arrive and claimed to be them, who would know?’ 

‘But given the age of the students, surely they wouldn’t have transitioned yet?’ said Helena, ‘Wouldn’t it have been obvious that they were a Geist?’ 

‘Only if they were actually the age they appeared to be,’ I said. 

‘Are you saying that they may have somehow managed to alter their appearance?’ 

‘Possibly. I have a theory, but it’s based on folklore from MY world, so it might not apply here… but there is a way to check.’ 

I reached out my hand towards the bookshelf and said ‘Changeling.’ Almost immediately, the Leabhar Scáthanna jumped from the shelf into my waiting hand, then fanned open. 

‘Well, I think that proves my theory,’ I said, ‘let’s have a look at what it says… “when encountering mícheart, there is the danger that if one is not mentally fortified and protected by the necessary talismans, the corruption can spread, infecting the individual. We refer to these aberrations as Changelings. Changelings are especially dangerous, as they can assume the appearance of others, masking their true form and masquerading as friends or relatives. However, in order to replace their intended target, they must….” Oh dear God, that’s horrible…’ 

‘What’s wrong, Alex?’ asked Helena, leaning forward, ‘what does it say?’ 

‘I’m not really sure I want to read it out to you…’ I said, holding the book to my chest, a look of disgust on my face. 

‘Surely it’s better if we both know?’ said Helena, standing up and walking over, ‘Let me see…’ 

‘No, I’ll carry on, but it IS particularly gruesome,’ I said, ‘so brace yourself. Where was I? “…in order to replace their intended target, they must feast upon their flesh, devouring them in their entirety, until not a scrap is left.”’ 

The colour drained from Helena’s face and her hand involuntarily covered her mouth. 

‘Oh my God,’ she said, ‘that’s horrendous!’ 

‘I did warn you it was nasty,’ I said, swallowing, ‘I honestly think I may actually throw up…’ 

‘So, if your theory is correct…’ started Helena. 

‘A corrupted adult Geist, a Changeling, has replaced one of the students that was due to start on 1^st September and in order to do so, they’ve killed and eaten them.’ I finished. ‘We knew that whoever was planning on completing the ritual had no qualms in committing murder, but this takes them to a whole new level of malevolence.’ 

Helena looked shocked, but then a thought must have occurred to her. 

‘Give me that,’ she said, taking the book form me, ‘if the book describes what a Changeling is, there’s a chance that it also details their weaknesses…’ 

She scanned down the page. 

‘Aha, here we go!’ she exclaimed, ‘blah, blah, blah… “once mícheart has taken full sway, the Changeling is altered both physically and spiritually, resulting in particular substances becoming an anathema to them. The blossoms, fruit and sap of the Rowan tree cause revulsion and the touch of skiron is fatal…”’ 

‘Well, I’ve at least heard of Rowan,’ I said, ‘but what the Hell’s skiron?’ 

Helena looked through the book, scanning the pages. 

‘It doesn’t appear to be in here,’ she said in disappointment, ‘I guess whoever wrote this assumed that everyone would know what it was…’ 

I gave this some thought. 

‘Right, as it’s Autumn,’ I said, ‘there’s no chance of getting any Rowan blossoms, but we might be able to harvest some berries. What’s your tree knowledge like? Would you be able to identify one if you saw it?’ 

‘Not really…’ said Helena, ‘I think it’s got red berries, but I’m not sure…’ 

‘I guess we’ll have to hit the Library then,’ I said, sighing, ‘and whilst we’re there, it might be worth asking Master Tweed if he knows what skiron is…’ 

Right, Mister Changeling, you may think that you’ve scuppered our plans, but we’re on to you and we have new plan.  

I’ll have you yet, my pretty, and your little dog too… 

‘Skiron?’ asked Master Tweed, ‘I’m not surprised you couldn’t find it in any of the books in the Library.’ 

After checking to make sure we were the only ones in either the Study Hall or the Library, I’d approached Master Tweed at his desk, whilst Helena searched for a book on trees. As we currently had no way of knowing which of the other students was the Changeling, it wouldn’t do to advertise what we were looking up, as it may tip them off that we were on to them. 

‘Why’s that, Sir?’ I asked, a look of polite interest on my face. 

‘Well, it’s a particularly archaic term and is, in fact, a contraction, which was quite unusual for the time in which it was used,’ he explained, ‘skiron is a contraction of “sky iron,” which actually refers to meteoric iron, which is one of the only naturally occurring forms of iron in metallic form, rather than as ore. Prior to the advent of iron smelting, which naturally gave the Iron Age its name, it was the only form of iron available to the Ancients and, due to the fact that it was usually hammered into shape, rather than forged, is also sometimes referred to “cold iron,” as no heat was used.’ He looked at me in interest, ‘Is this something to do with your project on King Athelstan?’ 

‘Not that I’m aware of…’ I said, playing along, ‘How is skiron connected to King Athelstan?’ 

‘Ah, it looks like I can impart some information that is NOT common knowledge,’ said Master Tweed, rubbing his hands together with glee, ‘such is the life of a teacher, that we derive pleasure from filling the minds of our students with interesting facts… anyway, the connection is the original Vorpal Sword, which, as we’ve previously discussed, apparently went missing at the same time as the Jabberwock, was made predominantly from meteoric iron. It is believed that this contributed to its special properties.’ 

‘Ah, I see… I’ll be sure to add that information to my project,’ I said. ‘So, is meteoric iron quite rare then?’ 

Well, I’ve not ever come across any…’ said Master Tweed, then paused, ‘actually, that’s not entirely true. I think that Mr Ware has a bracelet made from it, as I remember noting its unusual design and asking him about it. Apparently, it was bequeathed to him a long time ago. Is there anything else I can help you with?’ 

I noticed that Helena was waiting for me and tapped her bag meaningfully when she’d got my attention. 

‘Uh…no…nothing else at the moment, Sir,’ I said, ‘thank you again for your time.’ 

‘Not a problem, Alexander, always happy to help,’ said Master Tweed, ‘And I am sorry about this unfortunate business with Miss Yarrow. I know that both you and Helena here are quite close with her and I’m sure once the representative from the Geist High Council arrives, this will all be cleared up.’ 

‘Do we know when they’re going to arrive, Sir?’ asked Helena, coming forward. 

‘Not at present, I’m afraid,’ replied Master Tweed, ‘My understanding is that a formal request has to be submitted, which we have done, then this has to be examined and approved by the Geist High Council, then a relevant iarrthóir fírinne assigned to the case, if one is available, who will then join us at the college. It could be anything from a matter of weeks to a couple of months.’ 

Looking at our crestfallen faces, Master Tweed smiled kindly. 

‘I’ll speak to Dr Vayne and see if she’ll allow you two to visit Miss Yarrow in her room,’ he said, ‘as the Head of Dee House, the welfare of all three of you is my responsibility and I think that regular contact with you, her friends, would do her the world of good.’ 

‘Thank you, Sir,’ I said, ‘that’s very kind of you.’ 

‘So, did you get it?’ I asked, Helena as we made our way back to my room. 

‘Yep,’ said Helena, tapping her bag, ‘a reference book WITH illustrations, so we should be able to locate and identify a Rowan tree.’ 

She glanced out the window, then frowned. 

‘Guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow though,’ she said sourly, ‘it’s getting dark, and you know what happened the last time we went wandering in the woods after nightfall…’ 

‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘Not an experience I’m keen on repeating… you haven’t got any free periods tomorrow, have you?’ 

‘No, full day, I’m afraid.’ 

‘In that case, we’ll have to go after lessons have finished,’ I said, ‘that should give us about an hour before the sun goes down. Hopefully, that’ll give us enough time to find what we need.’