Dark in the Cellar

You can read the story so far from the beginning here

“I’m out of my depth,” Hilary said.

Cabus waved an arm around the library. “Look around you,” he said. “Everything is clean and in its place. There’s a warm fire in the hearth and there’s tea and your favourite cinnamon muffins on the table. It’s safe up here. And based on what you said, it may well be safe down in the cellar as long as you don’t displace the curtains that hide the walls.” He put a gentle hand on Hilary’s shoulder. “I can’t feel anything out of the ordinary up here. This room feels as safe as it could be to my vampiric senses.”

“We haven’t opened the door yet,” Hilary said. “The bookcase is still in its place.”

“If there was dreadful evil rampaging in the cellar, I’m confident that a bookcase wouldn’t hold it back, no matter how worthy the books on its shelves,” Cabus said dryly. “I can also sense your wards. You can always retreat to here. It’s as safe as anything in the area.”

“And we will be here waiting,” Bracken said bravely, almost rigid with fear but determined. “I has the number of Lord Peregrine here and I will be waiting.” She glanced around. “There are also plenty of bags.”

Hilary managed a smile at that. She had an armful of large, sturdy bags and at least a dozen more were neatly lined up next to the bookcase that hid the door. “Well, the sooner I start, the sooner I can finish,” she said, squaring her shoulders and leaning down to pull out the wedge that kept the bookcase in place. “Do you have the rope?”

Cabus nodded. “I do. It’s strong nylon rope that’s almost impossible to break. It shouldn’t let you down.”

“That’s good,” Hilary said.

“I actually have two lengths,” Cabus said. “One to tie to bags and one to keep tied to yourself. I felt uneasy at the thought of you being perhaps vulnerable when the bags were being lifted to the top.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Hilary said. “But, yes, that’s a good call.”

“And if things get completely out of hand, we can always call on the witch upstairs,” Cabus said.

“What witch?” Hilary said as she swung the book case back, once again admiring how it pivoted out.

“Your new guest,” Cabus said. “Paul Tarnbrook is a witch. I can understand that you wouldn’t like to confide in him on his first evening here, but I am confident that neither Lord Falcon nor Lord Peregrine would send someone untrustworthy to stay under your roof.”

“What?” Hilary said.

“Didn’t you know?” Cabus asked.

“I absolutely did not!” Hilary snapped. “Are you going to hold the rope or should it be anchored to something?”

“I suggest attaching the rope to the main table,” Cabus said. “It’s solid oak and has some weight to it. It’s also too big to be easily dragged down the stairs and would jam at the doorway. This would buy time to aid you in an emergency.”

Hilary looked first at the large library table and then at the shadowy doorway. Her imagination could easily visualize the table hurtling across the room and smashing into splinters against the doorframe before the rope slithered down the stone steps. She could feel a chill running through her at the thought of what sort of strength would be needed to do that and how strong it felt in the cellar. Another thought intruded. “Wait a minute! Who is Lord Falcon and why does he know about Paul coming here?”

“Lord Falcon is the ruler of the fae in Cornwall and Devon,” Cabus said, shaking out two coils of rope. “He owed a favour to Paul, and Lord Peregrine owed a favour to Lord Falcon and so it was decided that Lord Peregrine would offer employment to Paul.” He ran the first rope around the nearest column under the table and tied and expert knot. “It seems self-explanatory.”

Hilary took the other end of the rope and tied a quick clove hitch around the handles of the nearest bag. “I’d never heard of Lord Falcon,” she said. “I’ve never been anywhere near Cornwall.” She watched Cabus tie the second rope around the other sturdy column holding up the table. “I didn’t even know that Paul is a witch.” She took the end of the rope and slipped the end through the belt loop of her jeans before attaching with an easily released donkey hitch. “Hang on, are you sure that Paul is a witch?”

“Vampires know these things,” Cabus said. He nodded at the doorway. I will wait at the top of the steps.”

Hilary stomped to the steps. “Damn!” she said. “It’s not as cold.”

Cabus looked at her. “That’s normally considered a good thing,” he said.

“I left the electric fire on,” Hilary said. “My bill is going to get sky high.”

“So that is part of the mission,” Cabus said. “You will go down the steps, turn off the fire, turn to the shelves and start loading up the bags with the notebooks. When one bag is full, you tug on the rope and I will pull up the bag while you continue to load up the notebooks. It’s very straightforward.”

Hilary swallowed. “These four bags should be enough,” she said. “But Bracken can send down further bags if I need them.”

“You don’t check the store room or the work room,” Cabus said. “We start on the notebooks on the shelves. The older ones are likely to have the information we need about the magic flows and may give some insight into the problems in the work room. We need those notebooks.”

Hilary took a deep breath and nodded. “Right.” She took a tentative step past Cabus to the top of the steps. “Did Lord Peregrine really know that Paul is a witch and didn’t tell me?”

“Lord Peregrine has his own little ways,” Cabus said. “Remember, switch off the fire, load up the notebooks.”

“Right,” Hilary said, marching down the steps and across to the small electric heater which she switched off without hesitation. The room was almost too warm and cosy and the lights were still bright. “Can you make sure that there’s a flashlight handy,” Hilary called up the stairs. “Just in case.” She looked quickly over the notebooks. She couldn’t waste time on finding some sort of order. And what was Lord Peregrine thinking? He must have known that witches didn’t usually share space. She scooped up the first stack of notebooks and slid them carefully into the bag.

“Bracken has gone to fetch a flashlight,” Cabus said. “Though the lights seem in perfect order.”

Hilary slotted the next stack of notebooks next to the first. “And lights are never the first to go in a magical attack,” she called up the stairr with extra sarcasm. “Does Paul know that I’m a witch?”

“I am unaware of what Paul Tarnbrook thinks,” Cabus said, his deep voice echoing down the steps.

Hilary filled the first bag quickly, her mind racing. It wasn’t that witches didn’t get on as such. It’s just that they all had their own way of doing things and accommodating someone else wasn’t always easy. It was bad enough having another witch in the next street, but two witches under the same roof? She carried the filled bag to the bottom of the steps. “Pull it up!”

Cabus pulled the bag easily up the steps, the robust bag sliding easily over the stone stairs. Hilary didn’t wait until the bag was at the top, though, but carried on stacking the notebooks into the bags. Some of the books were fragile and they were not all a standard size so she had to pay a little attention, no matter how quickly she needed to move.

“I’ve thrown the rope back down,” Cabus called.

Hilary nodded to herself. “Great. Hang on a sec.” She hauled the full bag over the ropes and threw a quick knot around both handles. “Pull it up!” she paused. “And the witch is male? That never happens.” She raced back to the shelving. “I’m going to need two more bags, I think,” she called.

“Don’t be bigoted,” Cabus called down. “Witches may be mainly female, but it’s not a given. And who knows how many men may have become witches if it hadn’t been for stereotypes and prejudice? There may be men out there who don’t realise that they’re witches.”

“Sorry, yes,” Hilary called up, shivering a little. “This cellar is getting colder.”

“You switched off the heater,” Cabus reminded her.

“No, it’s starting to have a chill,” Hilary said, scooping up an armful of the notebooks and dumping them into a bag. “It should get that cold this quick.” She added another armful on top, careless about packing. “Hurry up with the rope.”

“It’s on its way down with the bags,” Cabus called.

Hilary rushed to the bottom of the steps and caught the bags tied to the rope. “I’ll need the flashlight next,” she called as she switched over the empty bags for the full one. “And perhaps another two bags. I can’t take time to pack carefully.”

“I understand,” Cabus called, hauling up the bag.

Hilary tumbled the notebooks into the bags, regardless of how old or how battered they looked. “The light is definitely dimming,” she said. “I’m going to have to be quick.” She shook the bag to settle the load and then quickly scooped up another armful into a second bag.

“Concentrate on the notebooks, Hilary,” Cabus said. “Do not look around you. Shadows can play tricks on the mind and you don’t need that now. Concentrate on the notebooks and don’t worry about anything else. The flashlight is coming down.”

Hilary thrust another armful of books into the second bag and dragged them over to the foot of the steps. “There’s two bags here.” She caught the flashlight and switched it on, wedging it into the corner of the lowest step as she swiftly tied the bags together. “Pull them up!” It took all of her trained willpower not to look at the work room door. “It’s definitely getting darker.”

“Don’t take risks,” Cabus said. “We have many of the notebooks already.”

“Throw the extra bags down,” Hilary called, striding back to the shelves. “There aren’t too many notebooks left. I want to get as many as I can.” She quickly piled the last of the top shelf into a bag, followed by the ends of the second shelf. Without thinking, she glanced around the room and shuddered. A dark shadow was gathering at the top of the door, like smoke contained in a narrow strip. “Quickly!”

“Hilary, you are not to take risks,” Cabus shouted. “I’m sending Bracken to fetch Paul.

“I should be okay,” Hilary said, tipping the last of the second shelf’s notebooks into a bag and opening a second. “I’ve almost got them all.”

“Don’t look around!” Cabus ordered. “Give me permission to order you to stay safe. I can use my influence.”

Hilary never thought that she would be happy to allow a vampire to use their vampiric mesmerising on her. “Go for it! Order me to stay safe.” The second bag was full with a jumbled mass of paper and she dragged the bags across the floor to the steps. “Who would have thought that notebooks would be so heavy?” She attached the filled bags with a firm knot and, leaving the flashlight bright against the dimming light and wedged firmly at the base of her escape route, grabbed the last two bags.

“Listen to me!” Cabus called. “You will listen and heed my words. You will act with caution and consider your safety.”

Hilary darted back to the shelves and started pulling out the last few notebooks. “I am listening to you,” she said, consciously welcoming his presence into her mind. “I am listening.” She filled the last bag, scooping up the few stray sheets of paper and turning back to the stairs. Her steps faltered and the sensation of fighting against an invisible but tangible barrier grew, like trying to wade through deep water. Panic ran through her. “Call me, Cabus,” Hilary cried. “Call me to you!”

“Listen to me!” Cabus thundered, his voice stern with authority. “You will come to me. You will follow my voice. You will ascend these stairs.”

The bags weighed heavily in Hilary’s hands, but she refused to drop them as she forced herself through the resistant air. She clung onto the orders in Cabus’ voice, the control he was pushing into her mind as she managed another step, then another across a room that suddenly seemed wider than a great hall. “I hear you,” she called back. “I wish to obey.” The sensation of control in her mind jumped, the intensity climbing as the next step was easier. “I hear you, Cabus.”

“What the hell is going on?”

Hilary could hear Paul’s voice at the top of the stairs but it didn’t disturb Cabus’ concentration and she held onto his voice as a lifeline. “Keep calling me, Cabus,” she cried, forcing herself to take another step. Please, keep calling.”

“I order you to obey me.” Cabus’ voice echoed inside her head in ways that had nothing to do with sound. “You will obey me. You will ascend the stairs and return to the library. I demand it!”

Hilary felt a sudden burst of energy as she managed two quick steps to reach the bottom of the stairs, then an icy shiver ran through her. “Call me, Cabus,” Hilary yelled. “I wish to obey my master!”

“I’m pushing wards,” Paul called. “Keep going!”

Hilary stared up the steps. Rationally, she knew that they were brightly lit and barely a dozen of them. Rationally, she knew that it would take less than a minute for her to carry the bags up those last few stairs. As she looked up, however, all she could see was an endless procession of chilly stones into an ominous dark tunnel. She swallowed and shifted both bags into her left hand. Their weight seemed to be increasing with every second but she ignored the strain and picked up the flashlight with her right hand. “I obey,” she yelled into the apparent darkness. “I obey,” she repeated.

“Keep going, lass,” Paul yelled. “We’re waiting here. Keep going.”

“Don’t go onto the steps,” Cabus said. “Keep coming towards me, Hilary. Listen to me!”

Hilary let the mesmeric control of the vampire flood her mind as she put her foot on the first step, then, heaving the bags, managed the second step. “I obey.”

“Don’t interfere,” Paul snapped, ahead somewhere in the darkness. “Let me work.”

A faint sensation of strange magic washed over Hilary, flooding from the top of the stairs downwards. She could make out faint shapes of Cabus and Paul at the top and the next two steps were a lot easier. “I’m getting there.”

“Keep going,” Paul called. “I’m pushing wards past you, so don’t fight them, okay? Just keep climbing the steps. There’s only six more.”

Hilary wanted to say that she didn’t have the strength to fight a cobweb, but even as another wave of cool magic ran through her, she still struggled. Exhaustion was weighing her down now as much as the magical attack, but the next three steps were the easiest yet and the light was breaking through.

“I’ve got the bags,” Paul said. “Just a couple more steps now and you’ll be safe.”

Hilary sighed with relief as the weight from the bags disappeared and she saw the outline of Paul just ahead of her on the top step. “Thank you,” she gasped. Then a strong arm was around her shoulders, taking her weight and easing her back into the library. She was safe.

“I don’t know what’s going on here,” Paul said. “And I don’t know why that manifestation can’t get anywhere past that doorway. But I hope that these old notebooks are worth it.”

Hilary looked around the library and sighed. The fire was still crackling cheerfully. The lamps still threw reflections over the polished bookcases in the room. There was even steam rising gently from her cup of tea on the table. Apart from the jumbled bags of notebooks, the library was warm, welcoming, and as pristine as ever. “It was worth it,” she said. “It was absolutely worth it.”