The Threads of Magic by Alison Croggon (best books for students to read .TXT) 📗

“No,” said Pip. “Not a word. Not since El went.” He pulled the Heart out of his pocket and held it in front of his eyes. “Maybe he’s not inside this anymore. The Heart’s just a thing now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like any other thing. Like a stick or an old shoe or something. It didn’t feel like that before. It felt alive. Maybe Clovis has gone away.”

“I don’t think he can go away, because of what Old Missus Pledge did,” said Oni. “He’s locked in there.”

Pip didn’t answer. He was staring at the Heart, and Oni knew he wasn’t listening to her. His expression changed, hardened: his eyes seemed to become shining surfaces, hiding whatever was behind them. He turned to Oni.

“How much do you actually know about Specters?”

“A bit. What all witches know. Not a lot.”

“Maybe you got it wrong. You’re a witch, and witches are evil. Probably even more evil than Specters.”

All the air went out of Oni as if he had punched her in the stomach. It seemed ages before she breathed it back in, and then she could barely see for rage.

“How dare you say that? How dare you? When my own mother picked you up off the street when you might have died? When Missus Pledge gave you a home? When you’ve known me all my life and you know how much I love El? When Ma is in the dungeons because you can’t keep your filthy hands off anything shiny?”

Pip hunched his shoulders up, turning away from her, and she pulled him back roughly, still shaking with anger. “Look at me when you insult me,” she said. “Look at me.”

He slowly dragged up his head and met her gaze, his expression still hard. Oni clenched her hand, wanting to punch him. And then something melted, and his eyes were red-rimmed and wet, desolate.

Oni’s anger vanished at once, leaving in its wake an overwhelming tiredness. “Aren’t you going to say sorry?”

Pip looked at his feet and then up. He seemed like Pip again. “I’m sorry, Oni.”

“You should be.”

“I didn’t mean you or Amina,” said Pip. “But maybe there are evil witches, like in the stories. Maybe Old Missus Pledge was really evil.”

“That’s not true!” said Oni hotly. “Old Missus Pledge was trying to get rid of the Specters.”

“Many witches at the time thought what she did was bad magic,” said Missus Orphint. Oni and Pip jumped, startled: they had been too intent on their argument to notice that Missus Orphint had been standing by the door, listening. She entered the kitchen, carrying a bucket, and tipped its contents outside the back door. “Arabella Pledge told me that her mother said that twisting blood magic was the worst thing she had ever done. Blood magic is for healing and life, and Old Missus Pledge said she made it into an abomination.”

“But maybe it wasn’t wrong,” said Oni, in a small voice. “If it was to destroy the Specters . . .”

“It didn’t destroy them, though,” said Missus Orphint.

“That’s only because she couldn’t finish the spell.”

“Maybe. We’ll never know if it would have destroyed the Specters unless we can find out how to use the spell.”

“The Specters seem to think it’s dangerous,” said Oni.

“Maybe they know more about the Heart than we do.” Missus Orphint paused. “Old Missus Pledge used Specter magic to make the Heart, Oni. Don’t forget that. If Clovis is terrified of witches, perhaps he has reason.”

“What can we do, then?” said Oni.

“Perhaps the first thing to do is to make Clovis less frightened. Maybe he needs a friend.”

“I want to find El,” said Pip. “I don’t care about the spell. I don’t care about some silly dead prince or Specters or anything. I just want El back.”

Missus Orphint hesitated, then spoke very gently. “I don’t know if we can get her back, Pip.”

“She’s somewhere,” said Pip. “If she’s not dead, she’s somewhere, and that means she can come back.”

Missus Orphint opened her mouth to reply, but Oni let out a squeak, as if she had been pinched, and then held out her hand, palm open, so Missus Orphint could see. Words were scratching themselves on Oni’s skin, fading almost as soon as they could be read.

Out. You safe?

“Is that your ma?” said Pip.

“Yes,” said Oni, with a warm rush of relief that made her eyes prickle with tears. “Yes, it is.”

Missus Orphint let out a breath, and Oni realized that her hostess had been as anxious about Amina as she was.

“Well, at least Amina can look after herself,” said Pip bitterly. “El can’t. She’s alone and frightened and she won’t know what to do any more than a baby kitten.”

“Stop it, Pip,” said Oni. “It doesn’t help.” She was tracing an answer on her palm. “Ma says she’s going to the Undercroft. Why doesn’t she come here?”

“The Midsummer Carnival’s on tonight,” said Missus Orphint. “Some of us were going to meet there, before your ma was arrested and our plans got upturned.”

“Are we going to the Undercroft, then?”

“I think I should,” said Missus Orphint. “I was supposed to be there hours ago. And now, it’s even more urgent I speak to the council. They need to know what happened here. But I shouldn’t leave you two alone . . .”

“I’m not a baby,” said Oni sharply. “Why can’t we come too?”

“I daren’t take you out of the safe house. Not until we know what’s going on.” Missus Orphint tapped her fingers on the table, frowning in thought. All trace of the mild, vague woman who had greeted them at the door the evening before had vanished entirely: she looked stern and sharp. Pip realized that her vagueness really was a kind of disguise.

“I think I must go,” she said at last. “I’ll be as quick as I can be. Don’t do anything rash, either of you. I mean it. Oni, you will have to be on guard, and Pip, you listen to what she says.” Here