Amanda Cadabra and The Hidden Depths by Holly Bell (good book recommendations TXT) 📗

gradually fading in volume. Then came the wait, in breathless silence.

It was several minutes before Jonathan returned.

‘She’ll see you. Do be careful, though, Amanda.’

Trelawney spoke quietly,

‘Yes, I sense that she’s a very dangerous woman. Volatile.’

Amanda nodded. Trelawney handed her the geode. She took a breath, drew herself up to her full 5 ft 4 inches, and levitated the amethyst steadily. Having got the rock under perfect control a foot in front of her chest, she glanced at Tempest who took up a position to her left, tail up, eyes glittering with yellow fire. She proceeded at a stately pace around the corner and into the chamber. The walls seemed far away and the roof vaulted mightily overhead, disappearing into the gloom. Trelawney followed at a respectful distance until Amanda spoke over her shoulder.

‘Wait here.’

He bowed and took up his station against the wall to the right of the entrance.

Following Jonathan, Amanda maintained a dignified rate of progress across the vastness of the rock floor. She walked between parallel lines of flaming torches of various heights, set at regular intervals down the hall. Near a steam vent at the far end on the right of the cavern, the Oracle was enthroned. Her great carved chair of stone, upon a dais, was covered with fur and fleeces.

Amanda, as she neared, judged the woman to be anything between 40 and 80. Her skin was almost impossibly white, probably the result of a troglodyte existence. Her eyes were the lightest of greys, lips thin, nose sharp and hooked. Beringed hands proclaimed her wealth. The woman’s long inner robe appeared to be of fine wool, her sleeveless outer garment of fur. At her waist she wore a belt of finely wrought filigree, most likely silver, matching the diadem in her complexly plaited hair. However, the most impressive item of her apparel was a thick gold torc of cunning design, glinting around her neck in the torchlight.

Amanda was overwhelmed by the woman’s magnificence. The Oracle’s presence filled the massive space, more astounding than that of anyone Amanda had ever encountered.

This is no time to be intimidated, she told herself. Mrs Pagely. This is for Mrs Pagely … Be Granny. Be Granny.

Jonathan came to a halt before the platform. Should she bow? Granny bowed to no one. Amanda compromised with a slow nod of her head towards her chest. A register of respect but not obeisance.

The Oracle inspected Amanda, her eyes resting momentarily on the tiara, then the rings, the fur, the silk of the dress, the boots, and Tempest. Her penetrating gaze strafed to Trelawney, observing the quality of Amanda’s servant. Amanda gathered, with some relief, that the woman was sufficiently impressed.

Next, she looked at the geode, then at Amanda’s face, and her eyes narrowed, with what the latter hoped was interest rather than animosity. Amanda smoothly levitated the gift until it was level with the Oracle’s waist. The woman took it, inspected it briefly then put it aside. She appeared to have accepted the offering.

Amanda had been careful not to speak first. Granny was never rushed into speech and could out-silence anyone. Finally, the Oracle addressed her:

‘Flogh-gwragh.’

Aha, thought Amanda, that was ‘witch-child.’ She’s acknowledging my magical status. I think.

The Oracle was continuing in Cornish: ‘You are worthy.’ The contempt in her voice belied her words, however it was sufficient trade off to hear the concession that followed: ‘You may speak.’

Perran had helped Amanda prepare her opening speech in the oldest Cornish he knew.

‘Lady, gracious and wise. I come for truth. Murder, most heinous of crimes, has been committed. I come in the name of justice.’

The Oracle inclined her head. This had apparently pleased her. Amanda took the gesture as encouragement to continue.

‘All-knowing, all-seeing are you. Even unto what has taken place above in my time.’

‘Ask your question, child.’ That was in English.

‘Why and how did she die? She one named Samantha Gibbs.’

‘That is two questions!’ came the forceful reply. Nevertheless, the Oracle closed her eyes and became very still. Amanda waited in the tense silence, broken only by the crackle of the torches and occasional hiss from the vent.

Finally, the woman spoke. Her eyes remained shut. But her voice rang out so that even Trelawney could hear words:

‘Liver dew!’

‘Liver dew?’ enquired Amanda, mystified.

There was no reply.

‘Is there any more?’

‘It is enough!’ came the answer in Cornish. The Oracle now rose. ‘You have compelled me to look into the dark!’ Even Amanda could discern the look of anger on her face. Involuntarily, she took a step back: something Granny would never have done.

Her sleeve billowing, the Oracle threw out her arm aggressively, pointing to the entrance to her mighty chamber.

‘Be gone!’

The woman’s fury seemed to have communicated itself to the very fabric of the cave. There were faint sounds of roaring and boiling below.

Amanda swallowed and retreated, though continuing to face the Oracle. Another shout issued from the throne.

‘And do not return!’ Suddenly, the woman switched to Cornish but so old that Amanda could only mark the sounds of the words that followed. From the chasm, steam began to jet upwards. The cave shook. Jonathan looked at Amanda wide-eyed and gestured to her to move faster.

She turned and began to walk more hurriedly, but the cave floor seemed to be heaving like the ocean. They had made it about halfway down the hall, when cracks started to appear. Vapour was gushing forth noisomely, and water was visible in the fractures, flowing below. They seemed to be on an ice-flow of thin rocks.

Trelawney tried to move towards them, but the ground reared up steeply before him, sending him back towards the entrance to the tunnel. What should have been a walk had turned into a leaping hike. Easy enough for a cat, but the upheavals beneath their feet sent Amanda and Jonathan in opposite directions, as the floor separated in two slabs rearing up to a point. Regaining their balance, they each began to make progress, but Amanda’s side of the cave was the more brittle.

Attempting to