Shadows
Chapter Twenty Six: The World Keeps Turning

No-one was entirely sure what had happened at Alderbay. What was known for definite was that a fire spread from the forests into the village and burnt down almost the entire village, unfortunately claiming many lives in the ensuing chaos. The fires burnt themselves out around mid-morning, plumes of grey smoke trailing across the pale pink sky. Only the valiant work of the townspeople in forming bucket chains, led by Mr Godfrey Lambeth, prevented further fire spread along the coast.

Most agreed that the cause of the fire must have been because of the recent spell of warm, dry weather. There were some, however, who swore they’d seen a man dressed in funny robes conjuring fire from his hands. There’d been a woman, too – dressed all in blue and bringing death and destruction where she walked. There’d been a battle, and it had ended with two girls facing off against the fire conjurer.

There’d been an explosion.

“I don’t know what you saw,” said the majority. “All I saw was fire and panicking people. Magic and the like? It doesn’t exist...”

“Yes, but…” replied the minority.

“Much more likely to be down to the weather. Stands to reason, doesn’t it? Honestly, magic…” scoffed the majority.

“Well yes, of course,” said the majority of people in Clifftop when they heard the news. “Why, just the other day we had a fire in our village too.”

“Wait a minute,” pressed the minority, “wasn’t there some shadow creature causing havoc? Wasn’t that why the fire broke out? Some girl blew up a wagon to scare it off?”

“Don’t be daft,” the majority scoffed. “Shadow creature? Pull the other one! A wagon caught fire, sure, but that’s what they call spontaneous combustion, right? Something gets hot and goes whoosh! Up in flames. Stands to reason.”

“But…” sighed the minority, then shrugged and gave in.

The news reached Shepsmoot, and although they all agreed it was a great tragedy, the news did not revolve around farming and so wasn’t discussed for long. Mrs Gambol, however, thought about it longer than most. Then she hobbled up into her attic, dug something out, and waited.

By the time the news of Alderbay’s destruction reached Velayne there was no doubt in people’s minds that the cause had been the weather. Someone stood by the docks would have been able to hear the conversation:

“After all, we had a massive fire in our dockyards just a week ago, didn’t we?”

“Yes, and it has been extremely warm this year too, hasn’t it? Stands to reason.”

“What stands to reason?”

“Well, the weather’s been hot. Fire is hot. Ergo, warm weather equals fire. Simple!”

“Ooh yes, it has been a scorcher if I ever knew one.”

“Ah, but not as warm as the summers in my day. They were proper summers.”

“What do you know of proper summers? Back in my day the soles of your feet would stick to the cobbles, it’d be that hot.”

“We didn’t have cobbles in my day. We had dirt roads, and we were grateful for it!”

“Dirt? I’d have given my right arm for a road of dirt!”

And the world kept turning.

“I’m sorry about your father,” said Angie, breaking the silence as the wagon rocked its way back along the western road towards Velayne. “He was very brave.”

“He was,” replied Kel, nodding in agreement. “I’m glad I got to meet him properly.”

“Me too.”

“M-me too. I owe him my life.” added Robert.

There hadn’t been a body. Would it have been better if there had? Whatever had happened when the Orb was destroyed, it had removed any trace of the Olossa. Fortis, Marielle, Varkun, Ambriel… all gone. Kel didn’t fully remember what had happened precisely – all she knew was there had been a massive explosion.

Well actually, there’d been an implosion first. That was a word she’d learnt from Robert. Everything had seemed drawn in to the fracturing Orb, and then it had all exploded outwards. Kel had felt a great rushing of energy through her and then must have passed out.

She’d woken up a few days later in a makeshift tent Angie had put together with the help of other medically-inclined townspeople in order to tend to the wounded. Robert had been sat in a chair opposite, still nursing his own wounds and reading a slightly charred copy of ‘Tobruk’s Guide to Travelling Part Two: Getting Home’.

He’d informed her, to the best of his ability, what had happened following the destruction of the Orb. After the explosion and the sudden silence that had followed, the townspeople had steadily strolled back down into Alderbay, searching for any more survivors and trying their best to recover priceless items from their burning homes that they’d left behind in the panic.[39] After a while they’d come across Angie knelt over Kel, too exhausted to carry her alone. Godfrey had helped lift Kel to the town outskirts where they’d laid her down comfortably and she’d rested there for three days, running a dreadful fever and occasionally mumbling in her sleep.

“M-mind you, after what you’d been through that w-would have been normal for anyone,” Robert had admitted. At least she wasn’t dead, though, thought Kel. She didn’t even feel half dead. Surprisingly she felt full of energy, though perhaps that was what three days of sleep did for you after a stressful week. Although she’d seemed to escape without much physical harm – a few scrapes and bruises here and there – there were undoubtedly fresh emotional scars lying deep within.

Robert was still nowhere near fully recovered yet either and had a large bandage wrapped around his abdomen that needed changing daily. In contrast to the previous few days it was Angie who was up and about on her feet more than Kel or Robert, helping tend to the wounded every hour of the day. Despite her still injured leg she shuffled back and forth between the tents without paying it much attention. Kel and Robert assumed she must have been feeling more at home, and for the most part let her go about her business.

Kel had caught her briefly one afternoon though, whilst Angie was taking a break and looking out across the ocean.

“You didn’t mean it, did you?” Kel had asked. “About wanting to be Fortis’ friend? About wanting to help him?”

Angie had sat there in silence for a long time.

“I don’t know,” she’d replied eventually. “I think I was saying it more for my sake than his. After what happened with Art I think I still wanted to prove to myself I was a good person. That I was capable of forgiveness. Thanks to his choice, I’m still not sure I am.” Angie had stared up at the sky and sighed. “I like to think that if he’d taken my hand I’d have made the right decision.”

As Kel had turned to leave, Angie had grabbed her arm.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Angie had said.

“You’re welcome. It was the least I could do. And… for what it’s worth… I think you can be a good person and not forgive people like him.”

And that had been that. The girls didn’t bring it up again.

A few more days later, once most of the wounded had been seen to by Angie and were happy with their ongoing recovery plans, and once Kel and Robert were feeling up to travelling again, they hopped on a wagon heading east back to Velayne, leaving Alderbay behind.

And the world kept turning.

They had stopped off near the abandoned farmhouse and politely requested the wagon driver to wait for them to return. After several hours pacing through the forest and trying to re-trace their steps they happened upon a discreet little clearing very much like all the others they’d passed through on their way to this point. There was something very different about this clearing, though.

Only they knew what had happened on this patch of land.

Only they knew the bravery of one tiny, faithful, perpetually mangy dog.

And under the soft dappled light of the sun shining down through the leaves, they dug a small square hole in the warm earth, and buried him.

And the world kept turning.

The trio paused again at Shepsmoot on their way back so Angie could return the gambeson (slightly perforated; slightly singed) and the crook (also slightly singed) to Mrs Gambol. To Angie’s great relief Mrs Gambol hadn’t been annoyed but instead greeted her with a big smile. To Angie’s even greater relief she’d been able to earn some money whilst tending to the injured of Alderbay and felt able to repay the old lady for her kindness. It had thrown her when Mrs Gambol had shaken her head and refused to accept anything.

The old lady had invited the three of them in for afternoon tea and had asked them to recount their tale to her in full, if they felt up to it, of course. She’d sat and listened in polite silence as the biscuits were passed round, tea was drank, and the trio took turns in relaying the story. Once they were done, with plenty of stopping and starting along the way, Mrs Gambol nodded, thanked them, asked a few questions; then sat quietly for a while.

She’d politely asked Robert and Kel to step outside for a moment, and they’d done so as Mrs Gambol had quietly spoken with Angie. Eventually Angie and Mrs Gambol had emerged from inside and with a cheerful smile and a wave she’d sent them on their way again.

“What did she have to say?” asked Kel inquisitively.

“She was just telling me about her daughter,” replied Angie.

“W-well? Who is her daughter?” asked Robert.

“No-one we know. Just someone called Celeste, really. I suppose I did ask her about her daughter when we first met, but if I’m honest I’d forgotten about it. I don’t understand what was so secret, she sounded fairly normal to me. She gave me an old diary of hers for me to read as well, so maybe that will shed some more light on the subject?” Angie sighed. “A new mystery for a new day.”

She packed the diary into her bag and climbed back onto the wagon, accompanied by Robert and Kel. There was just one day’s travel left now until they were back in Velayne. Angie could tell Robert was nervous about returning – the last order given to him by Mr Colywick had been to stay away for his own safety. Angie had reassured him that she and Kel were there for him now, and they’d keep him safe. Kel had said that although she didn’t know who this Oxbrow boy was, Robert had stood up to far worse people during their adventure, and shouldn’t have anything to fear from him.

Besides, Robert had reasoned, they were only staying in Velayne for a few days before they were heading off to their next destination after all.

The trio waved to Mrs Gambol as they left Shepsmoot and watched as the buildings faded into the distance and rolling fields covered the horizon. Angie dozed off. Kel delighted in watching the sheep – creatures until now she’d only heard of. Robert went back to reading.

And the world kept turning.

The shop bell tinkled as the door swung open and closed with a soft click behind Robert. He looked across the empty bookshop and took a deep breath. All of a sudden the familiarity came rushing back in the scent of dust, book glue, and aged paper. It was hard to believe that he’d only been gone a little over two weeks – it felt like an eternity.

“I’m sorry, I was just about to shut up shop,” came a familiar voice from upstairs. The floorboards creaked their familiar creak as Robert saw Mr Colywick descend the stairs and turn to face his client. “I’m afraid – Robert?” the old man gasped, hastily squinting and adjusting his spectacles. “Is that really you?”

“Yes, M-Mr Colywick,” Robert smiled, and the old man nearly burst into tears. “It’s me.”

“What the devil are you doing back here boy, I said it wasn’t safe! What’s happened to your stomach?!” Mr Colywick fretted, noticing the large bandage and padding underneath Robert’s shirt for the first time. “Did Oxbrow do that to you?”

“No,” replied Robert, shaking his head. “That was done by Fortis, Lord of the Fire Spire and King of the Olossa.”

Mr Colywick gaped.

“You’ve not experienced any head trauma again whilst you’ve been gone, have you?”

Robert and Mr Colywick spent the afternoon catching up on what had been happening in the two weeks they’d been apart. Mr Colywick was very interested and intrigued in all of Robert’s tales of magic, sorcery and death-defying escapades. Robert, meanwhile, was a lot more interested in the new shipment of books and the binding materials Mr Colywick had got in that morning.

Eventually Robert brought himself round to explaining the real reason he’d come back.

“I wanted t-to thank you,” he said. “I wanted to say thank you f-for everything you’ve done for me. I realised I didn’t say it before I left last time. Or appreciate just how much you m-meant to me. So, um… yes.”

Robert held out his hand.

Mr Colywick hugged him.

And the world kept turning.

“I always thought it should be raining at a funeral,” said Mrs Gable, crumpling and re-crumpling a tissue between her hands. A bangle clinked sadly against its neighbour as she blew her nose loudly.

“I don’t think Verne would have like that,” replied Angie. “Besides, technically it’s a ceremony to commemorate them all, not a funeral.” She bit her lip. That last sentence had been Robert’s influence. She was wearing black, an uncommon colour for her, and her red hair was tied up in a bun that her black hat was pinned into. She’d wanted to leave it in a braid and forgo the hat, but Mrs Gable had insisted and Angie hadn’t had the heart to refuse. Angie had missed Mrs Gable if she was being honest with herself. Mrs Gable had certainly missed Angie.

When Angie had stepped in through the beaded doorway of the apothecary Mrs Gable had nearly fainted from shock. She’d embraced Angie tearfully, clutching the girl so tight to her bosom that Angie had nearly fainted from lack of air. After the initial hysteria Mrs Gable poured them herbal tea (‘for the nerves’) and they began to talk – Mrs Gable providing 90% of the conversation – about what had happened in the previous week.

Angie had learnt that most people thought she had died in the dockyard blaze, and that her name had been added to the list of lives lost in the fire. A list that contained Verne’s name too, though this – Angie clarified solemnly – was not a mistake.

Mrs Gable had informed Angie that a ceremony for the departed was to be held the next day. Angie thanked Mrs Gable and told her she would be there, then returned to the Sailor’s Jaunt to retrieve her possessions and what money she had. She’d given the landlord Mr Catteriron a dreadful fright when she’d walked through the door and had had to reassure him for some time that he was not seeing ghosts before he eventually calmed down. He guiltily admitted that as he’d thought she was dead he’d rented her room out to someone else. Angie consoled him that she didn’t mind as long as she could still collect her belongings she’d left behind when she’d fled Velayne. After Mr Catteriron retrieved them from where he’d kept them safe behind the bar Angie had thanked him, paid her last outstanding rent payment and then been on her way.

“Don’t you need somewhere to stay anymore Angie?” Mr Catteriron had asked.

“No thank you, Bob,” Angie had replied. “I’m not staying in Velayne long.”

With the last of her money Angie had gone to Mayweather’s Emporium and had herself three new dresses made – one in black for the funeral, one in green and one in deep blue. She’d purchased some new white underdresses too, and made sure to get a couple of dresses for Kel as well.

All too soon the day of the funeral had come round.

“Oh, but it has to rain at a funeral, Evangeline,” Mrs Gable sobbed. “If it doesn’t rain at a funeral then the deceased won’t go to heaven!”

“Mrs Gable, that’s just superstition,” Angie whispered as the priest read out the names of the departed. She’d told the priest earlier that she was, in fact, alive, and not to read her name out, but even so she caught people looking at her as if they’d seen a ghost. “I mean, you’re not supposed to wear anything new to a funeral either but here I am in my new black dress and everything’s fine.”

“Oh, dear!” flapped Mrs Gable. “I should have leant you one of my old ones!”

Angie avoided the comment that if she were to wear any of Mrs Gable’s dresses it would look as if she were trying to wear a small tent.

“It’s fine, Mrs Gable. New dress or not; rain or not-” Angie began, but then a drop of water plopped onto her face. Soon there was a wall of rain softly drizzling down, the kind of rain that was finer than sugar but still managed to drench you more thoroughly than being chucked in the sea. “I don’t believe it…” Angie mouthed as she looked up into the first rain of summer, though she couldn’t help herself smiling widely.

“How marvellous!” Mrs Gable clapped quietly, though the clashing of her bangles was not so quiet. People were turning to look at them disapprovingly. There were a few ‘shushes’.

Eventually the ceremony was completed and the priest called the congregation to a close as the rain intensified. As the crowd began to file out sombrely there was a clash of thunder overhead and Angie and Mrs Gable found their eyes drawn skywards.

“Oh, Angie – that means they’ve reached heaven!” Mrs Gable cried, slapping Angie’s arm eagerly before turning her gaze to the sky again. “Goodbye, my handsome sea captain,” Mrs Gable sighed, neither happily nor sadly, as a tear ran down her cheek.

“Goodbye, Verne,” said Angie.

And the world kept turning.

It was the day after the funeral. Angie, Kel and Robert assembled on one of the piers in the dockyards, the sun once more shining bright over them and the seagulls cawing noisily from the rooftops. The shouting of sailors readying a ship mingled into the background as they looked at one another.

“Are you ready?” asked Angie, shuffling her bag across her shoulders and looking over to Robert and Kel. They both nodded, and Kel beamed widely.

“Oh, yes!” she smiled, eagerly jumping from foot to foot. “As much as it’s been fun to explore this city the past few days, I much prefer wandering in the wild!”

“Well, we’ve certainly got a fair journey ahead of us,” replied Angie. “How was Mr Colywick?” she asked, turning to Robert.

“He was well,” Robert smiled. “I d-don’t think saying goodbye was any easier for him than last t-time. Or for me,” Robert added pensively before continuing. “Though he agrees I still c-can’t really stay here in Velayne. It had been his intention to send m-me to the capital originally, anyway. How d-did Mrs Gable take the news?”

“She didn’t want me to go,” shrugged Angie. “And whilst I’m not sure I really want to go either, there’s too many memories for me here. I need a fresh start.”

“I understand,” nodded Robert, tentatively placing a hand on her shoulder and patting her gently. Angie smiled. She knew he wasn’t the best at dealing with feelings or intimacy, and perhaps might never be, but damn it if he didn’t try his best.

“Thank you.”

“What do you think you’ll do when we reach the capital?” Kel asked excitedly. “I can’t wait to see it!”

“I thought you said you preferred wandering in the wild as opposed to being in cities?” asked Angie wryly.

“Well yes, and I am more looking forward to the journey than actually getting there, but from what you’ve said it all sounds so exciting!”

“It’s just what Verne has told me,” shrugged Angie, “though yes, it does sound quite exciting.”

“I t-think there’s going to be too many people,” sighed Robert. “B-but I’ve also heard there’s some p-particularly large libraries there.”

“Well, whatever we’re looking forward to on this journey, we’ll do it together?” asked Angie as they began to walk up the gangplank and onto the ship.

“Of course!” nodded Kel.

“M-most definitely,” agreed Robert.

How could they possibly have gone back to normal lives after everything they’d been through? Thought Angie as they pulled away from the harbour. After all they’d been through, how could she have gone back to working in the apothecary? How could Robert have gone back to working in a bookshop? Probably pretty easily, thought Angie as she saw Robert open a new book and settle down for the journey. What would Kel have ended up doing, though? Angie asked herself as her gaze drifted over to the girl, currently leaning over the side of the ship and peering down happily into the clear blue water at the fish swimming by.

Angie smiled again – I wish I had Kel’s enthusiasm, she thought to herself. Even given everything that had happened, and losing her father, she still found herself able to enjoy the simple things in life. If she was sad, she didn’t let it show, and if she ever did, Angie would be there for her.

Angie looked back towards Velayne as the ship sailed out into the open water. The city she’d grown up in seemed smaller by the second. Was going to Vaygenspire the right idea? She had no idea. Angie knew that she might well run into the person responsible for controlling the Skadirr there; the person actually responsible for Verne’s death. What would she do if it came to that?

“Angie, come and have a look at this!” Kel cried, cutting across Angie’s thoughts. “Look at this massive fish!”

Angie shook herself from her melancholy thoughts and, with a smile in Robert’s direction, wandered over towards Kel. She was going to have to try to let herself enjoy life again. It wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe you had to start with the small things. Or, as it happened, a massive fish.

The world paused for a moment as one story ended, and another began.

And the world kept turning.

[39] More than once some people had been found trying to recover priceless items from other people’s homes. “Is this yours? Sorry, here you go – funny how all these buildings look alike when they’re on fire, isn’t it, haha? No harm meant, of course.”