The Serpent in the Glass (The Tale of Thomas Farrell) (25 page)

Havelock cast a glance toward the large cadet seated next to Thomas as she spoke the last few words. The boy’s grey eyes seemed to light up a little. Thomas saw the dark-haired cadet glance back. He must have been a Drough. Small features, long jet-black hair, pointed ears, and black eyes in which Thomas could well imagine cunning. The cadet turned back to Havelock and put his hand up again.

Havelock placed her stick of chalk, complete with silver holder, down on her desk. ‘Yes, Slayne?’

‘What about the Halfkin, Mistress Havelock? I mean they’re sort of impure aren’t they?’ Slayne said the word
impure
with a slight hint of derision.

‘Impurity comes from what’s in our heart, not what’s in our blood. It is true that the Halfkin’ — Havelock looked to the Club members and the back row — ‘may be of mixed blood, but perhaps that is where their strength lies.’

Merideah shot her hand up. Havelock smiled at her and the short bespectacled girl responded with a question. ‘So how do you tell what race of Avallach Halfkin come from?’

Havelock paused before answering. ‘With a great deal of hard work. There are visual clues of course. William here, for example, certainly has Firdheeg blood.’

William Prothero, the tall, lean, red-haired Club member, smiled at the attention. His cast had been removed, but he still wore his arm in a sling.

Merideah tapped her chin in thought. ‘So Thomas’ — she looked at him through her round-rimmed glasses — ‘likely has Alfar blood in him then, what with his blond hair and blue eyes?’

Thomas balked at being mentioned. Unlike William he ignored the eyes of the class and fixed his own on Merideah. He was glad Jessica had remained silent about the real colour of his eyes.

Havelock looked at Thomas as if determining what to say. Eventually, and to Thomas’s relief, she cast her steady gaze back at Merideah. ‘It’s not always so simple, Miss Darwood. Not everyone with blond hair has Alfar blood in them. Indeed, most have not a drop of the blood of Avallach in their veins. Tracing a person’s family tree might give us clues, though even that’s limited because in most cases, the blood of Avallach came into your world a long time before good records began to be well kept. No doubt many thousands more Halfkin exist unidentified on the Otherside.’

‘There’s the Blood Parchment, Mistress Havelock,’ an older Alfar cadet said. ‘I remember hearing stories about it when I was a child, about how a single drop of blood upon its blank surface would reveal the secret of your lineage right back to the First Fathers of Avallach.’

Havelock nodded. ‘Thank you, Taelon. As useful as that would be, it disappeared many generations ago.’

Merideah didn’t ask anymore questions, but Thomas could see her little face barely masking her excitement. Thomas knew what she was thinking. He was thinking the same thing. If they were right, then they might very soon know which races of Avallach flowed through their blood — and he would know something more about his father.

— CHAPTER SEVENTEEN —

The Hall of Tales

Thomas, Merideah, Jessica, Penders and Treice exited the Darkledun carriage as soon as it came to a stop in the Gardens of Arghadmon that morning. What with all the cadets about after Havelock’s lesson last Saturday, they’d not had the chance to return to the secret chamber at the back of the Hall. What made their frustration worse was the fact that Stanwell had turned up late today. ‘Those ol’ stones are gettin’ worse,’ he’d said, but hadn’t elaborated.

They were all now convinced the hidden chamber held the missing Blood Parchment, and all of them wanted to know if the Parchment could reveal their own ancestry. Their hopes were dashed as they walked into the Hall. Three boys of about their age stood in the centre of the room surrounding a fourth. Thomas recognized the fourth boy straight away as the one with the deep-grey eyes who he’d sat next to in Havelock’s class last week. Thayer was his name, if Thomas remembered correctly. The dark-haired boy, whom Miss Havelock had called Slayne, had Thayer by the collar.

‘Hey!’ Merideah shouted at the three boys, as she moved to the front of the group. ‘Leave him alone!’

They turned toward her, and Slayne curled a thin lip in derision. His somewhat pale face had an arrogant expression etched permanently into it. ‘Or else what?’

‘Or else —’ Merideah began, ‘or else my friends here will make you sorry!’

Merideah glanced back at Thomas, Treice, Penders and Jessica, all of whom quickly tried to look menacing rather than surprised. Slayne and his two sidekicks didn’t look very convinced, but they did hesitate.

A dawn of recognition seemed to register in Slayne’s black eyes. ‘You’re those new Halfkin, aren’t you?’

Penders stepped closer to Merideah. ‘So what if we are?’

Slayne released the grey-eyed boy. ‘They recruit anyone these days. Halfkin are about as useful in battle as a bunch of hodge-pockers!’ His mates laughed. One, a wide-eyed boy with shorter hair than most of the Drough Thomas had seen, made an awful cackle-like noise. Slayne glared at him and the noise stopped.

Thomas didn’t know what a hodge-pocker was, but he got the distinct impression that they’d all just been insulted. Merideah, who by the look on her face had an even stronger impression that they’d been insulted (perhaps she knew what hodge-pockers were?), fixed the bullies with one of her I-am-not-impressed looks. Slayne appeared a little disconcerted, which wasn’t surprising: Merideah’s displeasure wasn’t something to be incurred if at all avoidable. Her amber eyes were already boring deep holes in Slayne’s. After an uncomfortable pause, Slayne eventually cast an eye at Thomas and the others, avoiding Merideah’s stare, before taking a sidelong glance at his sidekicks.

Whatever he was going to say or do was cut off as Dugan Buglebeard walked into the Hall. ‘What is this? Your breakfast isn’t touched, and now it’s time to go to your lesson! Ah, well, at least there’ll be no washing up for poor old Dugan!’

Thomas glanced at the tray of silver bells on the table and then to the pained expression upon Penders’ face.

Slayne smiled. ‘Oh, what a pity. We had a lovely breakfast, didn’t we?’ The two boys flanking him both nodded. Slayne slapped Thayer sharply on the back. ‘Well, escort, you should get on well together! See you in class!’

The large-boned boy remained still while Slayne and his two lackeys walked slowly away with grins on their faces. When they’d gone he looked back gratefully toward Merideah and the others. ‘Thank you.’

Merideah nodded. ‘No problem. Thayer isn’t it?’

The boy nodded. ‘Thayer Gaul at your service.’

‘Yes, yes!’ said Dugan as he shuffled past and grabbed the tray of bells. ‘Why don’t you talk on the way to your lesson or the door will be shut, and it doesn’t open easily once it’s shut!’

Merideah looked at Dugan. ‘Where exactly do we go today?’

‘I know,’ said Thayer. ‘Follow me!’

Thomas kept pace with Thayer as he led them down the corridor. ‘What did Slayne mean by “escort”?’

The large-boned boy turned his deep-grey eyes toward Thomas and spoke in a slow, thoughtful manner. ‘Whenever Halfkin come from your world they are assigned escorts to help them find their way around and explain things they might not be familiar with or that should be avoided. It is usually older ones from your world that escort the younger ones. That is why I was so surprised to be asked. The High Cap said it would be a good learning experience for me.’

‘What’s up with Slayne?’ Penders asked as they reached the end of the corridor and entered the West Wing.

Thayer shrugged. ‘Slayne Dretch does not like my kind.’

‘What’s ‘your kind’?’ asked Thomas.

Thayer looked about uncomfortably. ‘I am a Fomorfelk.’

‘And?’ Jessica asked.

Thayer looked about as if to make sure no one was listening. ‘The Fomorfelk serve the Horned One.’

Penders puckered his brow. ‘The Horned One?’

‘Cernunnos,’ said Merideah. ‘Fabula called him the Horned One in the Lay of Avallach.

Penders eyes widened. ‘You serve that bad guy, Thayer?’

Thayer looked dolefully at Penders. ‘No, I was lost overboard a Fomorfelk ship when young. I was rescued by a Humbalgog ship and brought up by Humbalgogs.’

So Thayer never knew his parents. Thomas could relate to that, though not to being lost overboard. Thomas couldn’t swim. ‘What do you know about Cernunnos?’

Thayer looked surprised. ‘He is a powerful enchanter. He is very old, though how old I do not know. It is said that he rides in a chariot that can fly, and is attended by giant black dogs with red eyes that can take an arm off in one bite.’

Jessica squirmed. ‘That’s nice.’

‘No, it is not nice,’ began Thayer, who evidently had no grasp of the concept of sarcasm. ‘Cernunnos is bad, very bad. He hates the Humbalgogs, the Alfar and the Dwerugh. He especially hates the High Cap. He tried to kill him once or twice I heard.’

‘Cernunnos tried to kill Mr Trevelyan?’ Penders asked.

‘Yes, before the High Cap came here. It is safe here in the sidhe though. Well, relatively safe as long as you know the dangers.’

‘Dangers?’ Jessica asked.

‘Oh, do not worry. The High Cap asked me to keep you away from the bad places.’ Thayer stopped as they turned the corner and Thomas and the others found themselves in a dimly lit corridor. The rest of the cadets waited outside a large oaken door about halfway down.

A young, blonde-haired girl swept toward them before Thomas could ask what dangers might lurk in the Grange. ‘Hello Jessica!’

‘Hi, Tara!’ Jessica replied. Jessica turned to introduce Tara to Thomas and the others. He’d seen her before. Although in the second year, Jessica had started to become good friends with her. She was short, perhaps a tad taller than Merideah, and looked younger than her age. The other members of the Club were there too, including Duncan Avebury. Thomas wondered how Jessica coped with having Melantha as a best friend at the Manor whilst not being able to say anything about classes with her brother. The lessons here didn’t seem to be age restricted. Duncan was fifteen, and Thomas had seen older cadets about the Academy too, but what lessons they attended he didn’t know as they weren’t in Havelock’s class or here at whatever class this might be.

Thomas turned his attention to the door. A variety of ornate carvings of all different shapes and sizes covered the surface of the heavy oak door. Small figures, on both horse and foot, populated the central panel. In their hands they carried bows, swords, spears and shields. Various creatures twisted their way around the borders of the door and, at points, through the armed figures too. There were many familiar creatures such as owls, stags and bears, but there were also strange beasts: unicorns, animals that looked like — but somehow were not quite — lions, and, at the top of the door, winged reptilian creatures with long barbed tails. Thomas searched in vain for any image of a serpent. Merideah had also spotted the door. She traced her finger over the figures and beasts with a look of admiration and curiosity on the small features of her face.

Penders glanced from the door to Thomas. ‘Think the lesson’s on wood carving?’

‘It’s storytelling,’ said the short sandy-haired Miles Merlock. Thomas liked Miles, he was friendly and one of the few Club members who’d been that way even before Thomas and the others had been made junior members.

Penders looked at Miles, recognition in his eyes. ‘Ah, with Master Fabulous?’

Tara smiled. ‘Fabula, though he is fabulous at telling stories.’

‘Oh,’ said Penders. ‘My dad’s good at doing that too, especially when he’s been fishing —’

‘No, it’s not quite like that, you’ll see — or maybe I should say ‘hear’,’ Miles politely interrupted. Tara giggled.

Thomas stole a glance at Treice. He leant against the wall just a little out of the torch’s glow. Most of the cadets were boys. It was just as well or Treice might have slunk away into the shadows altogether — and there were certainly enough of them in the poorly lit corridor. Merideah was tapping her finger against her chin as she examined a carved human figure with a bow in his hand. But before she could examine it further, the heavy wooden door swung open, seemingly of its own accord. It made the most awful creaking noise. Thomas winced.

Merideah stepped back. ‘Those hinges need oiling.’

‘Greetings and felicitations!’ a familiar voice cried from within the room. ‘Enter the Hall of Tales!’

The students filed in ahead of Thomas, and it wasn’t until everyone was inside that Thomas could clearly see the classroom, though it didn’t look like a classroom at all. Indeed it was more of a hall, though far smaller than Darkledun Hall itself. It lacked any wooden panelling and had no windows. Lamps and torches of necessity hung from its stone walls, and a modest fireplace also gave its light to the sunless room. The door swung closed behind them and Thomas heard some hidden lock snap shut. A wooden chair, every bit as ornate as the door, occupied the centre of the room, and around it were strewn about two dozen chair-sized beanbags of varying shades of colour — purple, crimson, dark orange, and emerald green. In the chair sat Master Fabula who, on seeing the cadets enter, called them over and bid them sit down on the enormous cushions. Thomas found a beanbag not far from Master Fabula’s feet, feet hidden within a pair of tall, lilac-coloured suede boots that reminded Thomas for some reason of a pantomime he’d seen with his school a couple of Christmases ago at Holten Layme’s small village theatre.

The tutor’s long multicoloured robes looked even more tattered and faded now that Thomas saw them up close. Master Fabula held a long brown pipe to his mouth. He sent a puff of smoke into the air to mingle with the firelight before he spoke.

‘Greetings and mirth! Welcome once again. I trust you all had a pleasant Feast of Fires?’

Many of the cadets nodded, and some gave a hearty ‘Yes, sir!’ as they looked at each other in agreement.

‘And how are our young cadets from the Otherside?’ Fabula smiled at Thomas and his friends, showing a set of white teeth that seemed to have too many incisors.