Chapter 22
Henry was the first to recover. “What?”
“The writing on the page is glowing red,” said Thomas.
Benjamin leaned in. “No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is.”
Henry looked. “No, it isn’t.”
“Well, it is to me!” Thomas flipped through the book. Another page leapt out at him, glowing bright blue. He held it up. “This one is glowing, too.”
He looked closer at the page, then reached a tentative finger out and touched it. The coarse paper felt rough to his fingertips, and beyond that there was something… almost a vibration, but so faint Thomas could barely perceive it.
He realized no one had spoken and looked up from the page. His friends were all staring at him, faces wary. “I could use some help here.”
“There are no colours,” said Benjamin slowly, like he was speaking to a dog ready to attack at any moment. “Just the light of the lamp.”
“There are colours for me,” Thomas insisted. “And I’m not insane, so stop talking to me like that.”
“All right,” said Henry, stepping forward again. “Setting aside the idea that you are insane, what does the page say?”
“It’s…” Thomas read down the page. “It’s a spell for the calming of the mind in times of trouble.”
“And the one that glowed red?”
Thomas flipped the pages back. “It’s to drive off unwelcome guests.”
“Any more?”
Thomas leafed through the rest of the book. Two more pages glowed blue, one more red. The blue were for finding direction and making flowers bloom. The red was for killing vermin. Thomas leapt to the conclusion. “Spells that do some sort of damage are red. Spells that help glow blue.”
“All right,” said Henry. “So what does that mean for us?” Thomas put the book aside and looked at the stacks around them. “Has anyone figured out an order to this mess, yet?” “There doesn’t seem to be one,” said Benjamin. “They probably just chucked them in as they found them.”
Thomas thought about it, then put the book in his hand on the table. “Right. New plan. Henry, Ben, you two keep looking for references about stealing magic. Try for books written about witch-hunts, if you can locate any. They should have something.”
“Oh, good,” muttered Henry. “That should make for some lovely reading.”
“And what are we going to do?” asked Eileen.
“Something much faster,” Thomas said, “I hope.”
In the next hour and a half, Thomas leafed through every book in the room, putting the ones that flashed red or blue on the table, and setting the rest back on the shelves. When he was finished he had a stack of forty or so books, waiting to be read. Henry and Benjamin, meantime, had found a dozen books on hunting witches.
Thomas set Eileen to helping the other two and started sorting through the pile of books on the table. All of them were hand-written—some in the practiced scripts of clerks or scribes, others in the messy scrawl of merchants or tradesmen. A half-dozen he set aside at once, unable to read the languages they were written in. The ones he could read varied from simple charms to nasty curses to prayers for divine guidance. In all cases, the spells and charms that helped glowed blue, and those that harmed glowed red.
What surprised him was that the books contained many other spells and charms, both for help or for harm, that didn’t glow at all. He remembered Ailbe telling him that she’d never seen her magic working. He wondered how many others with some gift for magic had tried to seek out spells, only to find no magic in them. The search for real magic must have driven some of them mad.
Of course,
the rational, logic-trained part of his brain reminded him,
you don’t know if any of them actually work.
Thomas ignored the thought. They had to work, because one of them had to have the key to stopping the bishop.
“Oh, ick,” Eileen said suddenly, tossing aside the book she had been reading. A shiver ran through her. “That is disgusting.”
“What is?”
“This witch-finder’s method of discovering if a woman is a witch. He takes a large, cone-tipped rod—” She bit off the words. “It’s vile.”
“Do you want to give it a break?” asked Thomas.
She shook her head. “The sooner we get it over with, the sooner we get out. I just don’t have to like it.”
Thomas turned back to the stack of books in front of him and pulled another one into his lap. It was a small volume, possibly made to be someone’s journal. There was no title on the cover, no author’s name, not even a signature scribbled on the inside cover to say whose book it had been.
Every page in the book glowed.
Thomas flipped through the pages, scanning the titles of each one. The book was divided into sections. The first quarter glowed blue, the middle, red, and the last quarter blue again. There were charms to stop insects and charms to find lost things, curses that would make a man itchy or blind, and in the second half, spells to call wind or make water do one’s bidding. There was nothing about stealing another’s magic.
The fourth bell of the night struck.
Thomas started to put the book aside, knowing he was running out of time, then changed his mind and slipped the book into his shirt.
“Thomas!” Benjamin was scandalized. “What are you doing?”
“It all glows,” Thomas explained. “The entire book.”
I need to try them.
He didn’t say it to Benjamin, knowing what his friend’s reaction would be. “I need to look through it some more.”
“Well, put it back. Someone will notice that it’s gone!”
“They’ll notice the crowbar marks on the door or the scrapes on the hinges long before that,” Thomas argued. “Besides, it’s not the only one we’ll be taking, if we can find what we’re—”
“Here!” said Henry and Eileen simultaneously.
“This one talks about witches transferring their powers to others!” said Eileen.
“This one describes spells that a witch can use to summon up more power from otherworldly sources!”
“We’ve got to get out!” hissed George from behind them, causing the entire group to jump and yelp. “Now! I saw lights outside the windows, and when I went to look, there were horsemen and soldiers on the Academy grounds.”
“How many?” demanded Henry.
“I didn’t stay to count. Lots.”
“What are they doing?”
“The horsemen are riding up and down the grounds. The footmen are surrounding the dormitory and the gatehouse.”
“The bishop,” Thomas felt his heart sink. “They’re looking for me.”
“The bishop?” Henry was on his feet in outrage. “He can’t do that. Only the king’s men are allowed to enter the Academy.”
“They’d need a royal writ to do this,” Benjamin was equally outraged. “Are you sure it’s the bishop’s men?”
“Who else would it be?” demanded Thomas. “Who else would have a reason to charge in here at night?”
“There’s going to be trouble over this,” Henry vowed.
“And most of it for us if we get caught,” said George. “Get out of there so I can close the door!”
The four tripped on the piles of books as they hurried out of the little room. Thomas grabbed the two books on witch-finding and brought them out with him. George and Benjamin grabbed the door and manoeuvred it back into place. George guided the bolt into place, then he and Benjamin, with Thomas levering the door from underneath, began the much more difficult job of putting the door back on its hinges. Wood creaked alarmingly, and at one point something splintered, causing George to swear under his breath. By sheer force the three managed to get the door back into its proper place and the hinges lined up.
“Right,” said George, grabbing for the hinges. “Hold it there!”
Benjamin leaned against the door while George tried to put the bottom hinge-pin back into place. It wouldn’t fit. George cursed again and grabbed a hammer from the bag. He banged the pin into place, every blow echoing through the room and making the entire group wince. It was the same with the second hinge, and the third. At last George called Benjamin to step away from the door and surveyed his handiwork. It stood firmly in place and, at a testing tug of the handle, seemed to be as solidly locked as it was before.
“Think anyone will notice?” asked Eileen.
“Not unless they’re looking,” said George. He grabbed up the bag of tools in one hand and his stick in the other, “and with all that’s going on, I doubt that they will any time soon.”
“I pray you’re right,” said Benjamin fervently. “Can we get out of here, now?”
They raced up the stairs, Benjamin in front with one lantern, Thomas taking up the rear with the other. Shadows jumped and danced around them as the lanterns swung. They charged through the basement hallway, round the corner and straight for the stairway. Henry called them to a stop and made them douse the lanterns. Thomas pushed to the front and went up alone. There was no movement in the hallway above, save shadows flickering from the yellow torchlight outside.
“Come on,” Thomas called. “Quick!”
The others dashed up the stairs. Thomas didn’t wait for them, but ran to the nearest window. There was no real light coming in, save for the torches of the horsemen riding past. He couldn’t make out their livery.
“Come on!” hissed Benjamin, waving a now-doused lantern at Thomas.
Thomas grabbed at a hand, and the group formed a chain again, moving down the middle of the hallway towards the main door. The hall grew brighter when they turned a corner, light from torches outside giving a dim, flickering illumination to the hall.
They gathered at last around the main door. Henry tried one key after another until one matched the lock and clicked. He pulled the door open a bit and Thomas peered out. He could see the foot soldiers, gathered around the dormitories and the gatehouse. More soldiers on horseback were riding around the professors’ homes. Thomas could hear the professors protesting, but no one was being allowed to leave.
“Well?” demanded Henry.
“They’re everywhere. And they’re wearing the bishop’s livery.”
“Wonderful.”
“Can we stay here?” asked Eileen.
“I think we’ll have to,” said Thomas, still peering through the doorway. A group of a dozen soldiers had broken off from the others and were walking purposely down the main thoroughfare. There was a short, podgy man with them, dressed in a long night-robe. “Damn it!”
“What?” demanded four voices at once.
“They’ve got the Master of Keys. They’re walking this way.”
“They’re going to search the buildings,” said Benjamin.
“Good guess,” snapped Henry. “We have to get out of here.”
Thomas looked out the door to the buildings around them. “The graveyard’s still the easiest way to get out.”
“Can we get to the church?” asked Henry.
“Not directly,” Thomas said. “Science is closest, but it’s in the wrong direction.” He checked the soldiers’ progress, and saw them changing directions. Thomas jerked his head back inside and closed the door. “Lock it.”
“What?”
“Lock it, quickly. They’re coming here.”
Henry fumbled with the keys, found the right one, and locked the door. The five retreated down the hallway. “How else can we get out of here?” Thomas asked, looking to Benjamin.
“There’s a door that opens towards the library.”
“Get us there.”
Benjamin turned and led the group at a run down the hall and around a corner. The hallway here was small and dim, with no windows to let in the yellow torchlight from outside. Benjamin led them straight to the end of it. “Here.”
Henry quickly stepped up, felt at the door until he found the keyhole. He put a key in the lock and clicked it open.
“Good guess,” whispered Thomas.
“There’s too few keys for every door to have its own,” said Henry. “I guessed the one that opened the front probably opened the rest of them.”
From behind them, they heard a door being roughly opened and the sounds of boots on the floor.
“Get outside,” Henry hissed. “Fast!”
“What if they’re waiting?” demanded George.
Henry opened the door and looked out. “They aren’t. Now come on!”
They poured through the door and closed it behind them. Henry locked it immediately, and then turned to the others. “Now what?”
Thomas could see torchlight on either side of the building, but none of it was close. “The library.”
“What?”
“It’s the closest, and we can hide in there until they’re done searching.”
“How do you know they won’t search in there?” whispered George.
“No one’s allowed inside with a flame,” Henry whispered back. “King’s orders.”
“And if they decide not to listen to the king?”
“They have to,” said Benjamin. “The whole place is filled with dry paper. One spark and it will go up. And if that happens, there
will
be a riot.”
“Pity there isn’t one now,” muttered Henry.
“We’ve got to go,” said Thomas. He grabbed Eileen’s hand. The torchlight was still distant, the ground between them and the library shrouded in darkness. “Run!”
They ran.
Thomas risked a look around them as soon as they were on open ground.
From the dormitories and the Masters’ houses torches blazed in the hands of the bishop’s men, but no one sounded an alarm. Those who might have been looking were probably blinded, Thomas guessed. A torch only threw light about fifty feet, and ruined the night-sight of anyone trying to look beyond that.
Thomas prayed the darkness and their black cloaks would be enough. He made himself run faster, Eileen’s hand clutched in his own. The library grew closer and closer. The black of its walls and the yellow of torchlight reflected off its windows made it even more ominous and forbidding than usual.
Lights moved behind them, and for one horrible moment, Thomas was sure they were being pursued. A quick glance over his shoulder told him otherwise. The bishop’s men were riding back and forth between the Masters’ houses, but none were turning their way.
The library wall rushed towards him. He let go of Eileen’s hand and used the wall as a brake, bouncing off it and letting himself fall to the ground. He lay flat, making himself as small as possible. Eileen dove down on the ground beside him, Benjamin and George joining them. Henry went straight for the door and began fumbling with keys. Benjamin put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Should we try for the graveyard?” he asked, gasping the words out.