The Serpent in the Glass (The Tale of Thomas Farrell) (24 page)

— CHAPTER SIXTEEN —

Bloodlines

‘It isn’t natural to get up before it’s light,’ Penders moaned as he stumbled bleary-eyed down the stairs behind Thomas and Treice.

Thomas smiled. He was used to getting up early in the Westhrop household. After all, he’d made the breakfast every morning since he was nine. He wondered how the Westhrops were coping with making their own breakfast now that he’d gone. Mrs Westhrop was probably overdoing her husband’s eggs. He liked them soft and runny.

It was quiet in the Manor, the dawn’s light steadily growing as the remnant of the night faded. Up above, Thomas heard one of the large windows rattle. It sounded as if it would be a blustery Saturday. They were going to visit a graveyard today. At least, that is what they had to say if anyone asked. The Headmaster had spoken to them briefly after the Feast of Fires, telling them to be outside 2B at half past seven the following Saturday morning for their first lesson. He hadn’t said what the lesson would be. The older members of the Family History Club had left for the Grange last night — as usual, they would stay for the whole weekend.

Thomas, Penders and Treice arrived at 2B a few moments later to find Stanwell and the girls waiting outside. Once inside, Penders plonked himself down on a desk, rubbed his eyes and cast a tired gaze over the room. ‘I wonder if the Club actually ever does any work in here?’

Stanwell pulled on the pendulum of the clock. ‘Oh yes, Master Plunderfast, and the ’eadmaster too, when ’e can. I do be enjoyin’ a bit of geny myself when I can get to it.’

Penders, who’d long since given up correcting Stanwell over his surname, turned his confused face toward the girls. ‘Geny?’ he mouthed.

‘Genealogy, I assume,’ Merideah whispered back as the blackboard grated its way up to reveal the entrance to the tower.

Penders nodded and yawned again.

Twenty minutes later they were standing in the Darkledun Hall. The fires were dead now and the place empty.

Stanwell looked agitated. ‘Where be that Bogglebeard? Never rely on a dwarf, mark my words!’

Thomas stared down at his cadet uniform. They’d changed in the Undercarriage as before. It was the first time he’d seen the clothing in daylight. He’d taken to the strange clothing faster than he thought he would. In fact, he quite liked it, even if it did have the serpent emblem upon it. He reached beneath his cloak and his hand found the bag hanging from the wide leather belt. Bringing the Glass had felt right, after all it had led him here in the first place. As for the marbles, maybe the younger cadets might like to play a game or two, or he could teach them the rules if they didn’t have marbles in Avallach.

The old Dwerugh appeared a few moments later through the small wooden door that, Thomas had learnt, led directly to the kitchens. In his hands he carried a large tray upon which rested a half dozen small silver bells.

‘It’s ’bout time,’ Stanwell murmured. ‘You been kippin’ again?’

Dugan scowled as he placed the tray on one of the long, dark wooden tables. ‘Extra duties! I’m busy enough as it is, and now I have to prepare breakfast like some old maid!’

Penders perked up at the word breakfast, but looked upon the tray in confusion as Dugan scuttled off back the way he’d come.

‘Well, children,’ Stanwell began, after Dugan had gone. ‘Eat up! Your first lesson do be on the third floor of the East Tower at eight of the clock. The door be by the large window. You can’t miss it. Remember to be leavin’ enough time to get there now. I shall meet you by the fountain in the gardens after your lesson. Do be prompt! Don’t dilly or dally!’

When Stanwell had gone, the children approached the tray. Penders picked up one of the bells. ‘Well, I guess it works the same way as the one Trevelyan had.’

Penders rang the bell and a plate of toast appeared on the table next to the tray. Picking a piece up, he bit into it. ‘Mmm! Strawberry! Still warm too.’

Thomas picked up another bell and gave it a tinkle. Five goblets of juice appeared.

Penders looked at his bell. ‘I wonder what would happen if we took one of these back to the Manor?’

Merideah glared at him. ‘That’s stealing!’

‘Just borrowing.’ Penders defended himself with a weak smile.

Jessica grabbed a bell and examined it. ‘I don’t think they’d work in our world anyway. Trevelyan said something about things working differently here.’

‘Thomas’s Glass worked in our world,’ Penders said through a mouth full of toast.

Merideah shrugged. ‘I’m not sure that glowing’s the same thing as producing food out of thin air.’

‘Yeah, you’re right’, Penders began before he realized he was agreeing with Merideah. ‘What I mean is, I’d rather have a supply of food anytime I wanted, not an extra lamp.’ He turned to Thomas. ‘Sorry, mate.’

‘Nothing surprising there, then.’ Merideah drained the remainder of her goblet, ignoring Penders’ puckered brow.

‘I wonder what the glowing means?’ Jessica asked no one in particular.

Treice looked up from his bowl of cereal. ‘Maybe it detects magic?’

Merideah tapped her chin with a finger. ‘Well, I’m not sure what was magical about Thomas’s dreams.’

Treice stared back at them with blank eyes.

Jessica filled Treice in about the Glass glowing when Thomas had nodded off with it in his hand one evening, and how he saw everyone frozen at the Manor. She chose not to mention Treice’s appearance in the episode. He was leaning back on his chair now, the same way he’d done at the Manor that evening.

‘You got the Glass on you, Thomas?’ Penders asked. ‘We could see if it glows near these bells.’

Thomas pulled the Glass from his bag and held it close to the bells. It remained quite unaffected. He hadn’t expected it to glow. The Glass only seemed to illuminate when near the Way Gates or — according to Penders, Jessica and Merideah — when he slept with it in his hand. When he had those terrifying dreams of the serpent.

Merideah, a frown on her face, stepped closer to examine the Glass, but as she did so her arm brushed against Treice and he lost his balance. Sprawling backwards, his foot knocked the orb from Thomas’s hand and it rolled down the length of table. Thomas made it to the end of the table too late. The Glass fell heavily to the ground and rolled across the floor until it came to stop at the wall. He dared not look at first, thinking he’d see a large crack in its surface, but when he looked it seemed quite unscathed, and, more than that, it was glowing. He picked it up. ‘What this time?’

Merideah’s little face was intent as she and the others approached. ‘Move about. See what happens.’

Thomas moved first toward the East Wing. After about ten paces the Glass began to dim. He tried the opposite direction and the same thing happened. Moving back to the midpoint of the room, he stared up at the southern wall of the Hall with its huge image of a fire-wreathed crown embossed between the two serpent-embroidered drapes. The other children silently gathered behind him. Perhaps instinctively, he touched the Glass against the wood-panelled wall and an outline of a doorway illuminated in silver light, shimmered and disappeared, leaving open an entrance to a small chamber.

Merideah called out something about being careful, but Thomas wasn’t listening. He stepped through and, one by one, the others followed. Inside they were welcomed by a bare room with a stone podium thrusting out from the middle of the floor. Upon it lay a large and very old-looking parchment. Although out of reach, they could see the parchment was quite empty.

‘Well, what a silly room.’ Penders looked from the podium back to the doorway. ‘Why go to all the trouble of hiding it, if all it contains is a blank piece of paper?’

Thomas shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me.’

‘Well at least we know what the Glass does now,’ Merideah said.

Penders looked at her. ‘We do?’

Merideah pushed back her Alice band. ‘Yes, it seems to find hidden doorways: the stones, the entrance to this chamber. They’re both doorways of a sort.’

Merideah was right, Thomas was sure of it, but what about his dreams? Maybe the Glass had other powers too?

Penders headed back out. ‘I’m going to finish my breakfast.’

Merideah gave him a withering look before she and the rest of them followed.

As they stepped out of the room the doorway disappeared and the wall returned to normal. Not a second later, Dugan appeared through the kitchen door.

He stared at them suspiciously, no doubt wondering why they were all walking away from the wall. ‘You should’ve finished by now. You’ll be late, and she’ll not like it!’

‘Ah, right. Well —’

‘No more talking!’ the Dwerugh interrupted Jessica. ‘Poor old Dugan will do the washing up.’

Dugan pulled the plate of biscuits from the table before Penders could reach it, and started shooing them all off in the direction of the East Wing. ‘Off with you now. Don’t be late!’

The children left Dugan behind with their bowls, plates and goblets, and made their way down the corridor. Once through the East Wing, they came to the spiral staircase at the base of the East Tower and began their ascent. When they stepped off at the third level they wandered through the rough stone corridors for some time before finding a door next to a large window.

‘Enter!’ a commanding yet familiar voice sounded through the thick wooden door after Jessica gave a tentative knock.

Jessica opened the door and Thomas and the others followed her inside. The heads of all the cadets turned to view the new arrivals. At the front of the class, behind a large dark wooden desk upon which lay two neat stacks of books and rolled up maps, stood Mistress Havelock, her hair down, her glasses gone, and wrapped in a black dress that Thomas thought made her look more like a dark-clad sorceress than a teacher.

Mistress Havelock frowned hard. ‘You’re late!’

Penders looked petrified, and for a moment Thomas thought he might be having one of his strange dreams again.

Havelock raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, sit down then!’

Except for a large-boned boy sitting at the end desk, the back row of the class wasn’t occupied. Thomas and the others swiftly took their seats, Thomas ending up next to the large boy. On the row in front Thomas could see the Club members and a couple of boys with short sticking-up ginger hair. Mistress Havelock picked up five thin books from her desk and handed them out to the new members of her class.

She returned to her desk and folded her arms. ‘Tests are conducted every week — so pay attention and make good notes! Now, as I was saying before we were interrupted’ — she glanced at the back row — ‘today we will be looking at the races of Avallach.’

Mistress Havelock turned to the blackboard and started scribbling. Thomas looked down at the reddish-brown book on the desk before him. On the cover it read
History of Avallach, Notebook
. Inside, blank parchment pages stared back at him. A quill and inkwell protruded from holes in one corner of the desk. Picking up the quill, Thomas examined its nib and then dipped it in the inkwell. He tried to write the date at the top of the first page. He’d barely managed to write
Saturday
before Mistress Havelock had turned back to the class.

She’d written
The Bloodlines of Avallach
at the top of the blackboard in her normal flowing script.

‘Right, who can name one of the seven races?’

Several cadets put their hands in the air. Havelock chose a brown-haired boy on the first row. ‘Humbalgogs,’ he said. A number of others nodded or muttered in approval.

Havelock wrote the word on the board. ‘Thank you. Yes, the Humbalgogs. The most numerous of all the races of Avallach. Another?’

This time a girl with blonde hair answered. ‘Alfar!’

Havelock nodded and wrote the word under
Humbalgog
. ‘One of the oldest races, of course.’

‘And the most noble!’ a blond-haired boy added, and several others of the same hair colour nodded in approval.

‘And the Drough, the most intelligent!’ a dark-haired boy added. Others of similar appearance murmured their agreement, though the blond cadets shook their heads and expressed disapproval.

‘Yes, yes. Thank you,’ Havelock began. She added the Drough to the list. ‘Any others?’

A red-haired cadet, his hand eagerly held high for some time, could contain himself no longer. As soon as Havelock glanced in his direction he blurted out, ‘The Firdheeg, the fastest and fiercest warriors in all of Avallach!’

Havelock nodded and added the name to her list.

Another cadet mentioned the Dwerugh, the Dwarves as they were sometimes called. And a member of the Club, Tara Reeves, offered ‘Dewgs’. Thomas had seen her speaking enthusiastically with Master Fabula after the Feast of Fires. Fabula was the only one in the Grange with Dewg blood as far as Thomas knew. Six races were now listed upon the board.

‘One to go,’ Havelock confirmed. ‘Who can tell me what it is?’

The large-boned boy sitting next to Thomas put his hand up, somewhat hesitantly.

‘Yes, Thayer?’ Havelock asked after her raised eyebrow didn’t elicit a response.

The boy looked about nervously. ‘The Fomorfelk, Mistress Havelock.’

‘The slowest and dumbest of all the races!’ Thomas’s ears picked up the whisper from a dark-haired boy in the front row. The cadets either side of him sniggered before Havelock cut them off with a severe look. ‘Thank you, Thayer. Very good.’

Havelock returned to her desk, but didn’t sit down. ‘All of the races have their strengths, and their weaknesses. Each is distinct in their appearance. The Alfar are known for their ability to lead, their skill with the bow, and their store of knowledge; the Drough, also known for their bowmanship, are said to be very cunning; the Firdheeg are famous for their forest lore and skill with the spear; the Humbalgogs for their many children, for their loyalty, reliability and adaptability; the Dwerugh for their hardiness and their skill in the mining and working of metals; the Dewgs for their ability to remember most of what they hear or see; and the Fomorfelk for their strength and fearlessness.’