Chapter 28

All Change Please, All Change.

While Alice goes to check out her cottage, I check out mine. It’s got a little living room with a wooden bench by the fireplace and a small wooden table with a map of Angelmere carved into it. I trace all the places our adventure started with my finger, the new paths we walked to get where we are now. Contentment wraps me like my favourite duvet cover. It’s been weird and strange and scary, but it’s been amazing too. If I can face this, I can face a new school, with new people. And I’ve got a friend like no other in Alice. Friends are made through shared experiences, but you’ve got to be open to new experiences to get to this place.

I wander through a small door opposite the fireplace passing by some stone steps that lead down into the basement. Garvey told us the mirror rooms are down there. They lead straight back to the De Silva mansion, no going through the strange corridor of choice anymore. And we don’t need to keep going back to the passage under the graveyard anymore after we return. We can use any mirror we like now, just by saying the incantation Palgamor gave us, and we’ll be brought straight to our home from home, here behind The Cut. And the mirrors somehow calibrate to take us straight back to where we left.

Excitement fizzes in my stomach like popping candy. We’ll come back, for sure but we’ve also got a life to lead back in Bledgley too. A shiver passes through me at the thought Romalesque could call on us at any moment. Sabotini isn’t going to let losing the eye go unavenged. This isn’t over yet.

I head through the dark wooden door frame and sit on my comfy little bed, piled high with cushions and blankets. Drawing my new sword, I lay it across my lap and stare out the window at the flowers beyond then pull my phone from the Angelmere bag and check the time. It says 10:30am. I only left the house at 10am. Who would believe so much could happen in so little time?

A message from Mum pings, making me jump.

How on Earth is my phone working here?

“Must have Wi-Fae,” I mutter to myself, a small chuckle escaping me. The top right of my phone says ‘5F’ on it. Perhaps my joke isn’t too far from the truth.

I flick my thumb on the screen and read:

What time you two coming back? Me and your dad might go and visit the De Silva manor this afternoon. Want to come?

I stare at the message, trying to make sense of it, decide I can’t and type:

We’ll be back soon. Can’t wait to get home! Missed you!! Are you and Dad taking up fencing or something?

I hit send and bounce gently on the bed. Mum’s typing already:

It’s lovely to hear you say ‘home’. Patrice popped round, told us that Sir Bradley (good choice of name!) opens the house up twice a year so visitors can see its various treasures.

This conversation is getting more and more random. I stare at the words Sir Bradley, then type exactly that:

Sir Bradley?

Mum’s reply is almost instant:

Your fencing teacher! Have you forgotten already? Your lesson was only yesterday!! And he’s got the same name as you!!! Anyway, see you when you get back. Tell Alice she’s welcome to come too.

I drop my phone on the bed and go to stare out the window. I didn’t think this day could get any weirder.

###

When Alice gets back, I show her the messages. She can’t make any sense of it too. To be honest, she’s more excited that her phone works again and immediately texts her mum to ask if she can come with us to the De Silva mansion. Her mum says she can and Alice texts a big smiley back then turns to me. “Shall we go home?”

Warmth fills my chest. “I’d like that a lot.”

I empty the contents of the Angelmere bag into a dark wooden chest. There’s the dream catcher that’s still got one more thread left on it (the gold one) and I wonder when and where I might use it. Next, I empty the water skin out the window onto the flowers screw the cap back and place it into the chest too, along with my scabbard. It feels weird leaving these things behind, but they’ll be here waiting for me when I need them again.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The chest closes with a satisfying thunk and I turn to Alice. “Now let’s go home.”

###

The mirrors beneath my home in Angelmere drop us straight back into the mirror room beneath De Silva’s tomb.

“Mummy. Two people just appeared out of nowhere!”

Both me and Alice spin round to find a young girl, no more than like three or four staring at us with wide brown eyes.

“Shhh,” I say softly, my brain spinning.

“Don’t shhh me,” she replies.

“Emily, who on Earth are you talking to?” A lady with blonde hair and glasses pokes her head through the doorway. “Oh! I didn’t see you come in.”

My heart starts to pound, my mind back pedals, desperately trying to think of a reason why we would be here, and a reason why this lady and her daughter would be too. I open my mouth, realise I’ve got nothing useful to say, and shut it again.

My heart jumps. I’m carrying a sword made from a dragon’s toenail.

But the sword I’m carrying in my belt loop looks identical to the foil I lost, just as Romalesque said it would. Green handle, shiny round metal guard, thin blade. I breathe out heavily. No awkward excuses to make to my parents.

“We just nipped in to have a look at the mirrors,” Alice says.

“Yes. They’re lovely, aren’t they? Come on Emily, I don’t want to miss this bit.”

“This bit?” I ask, fog clouding my thoughts. Who would’ve thought Fae, dragons and ogres made more logical sense than this?

The lady gives me a smile that suggests she thinks I’m a bit odd, but harmless. “The tapestry, of course.”

“Tapestry.” I repeat mechanically.

The lady grabs Emily’s hand and drags her through the door. “Come on dear.”

“But they appeared from nowhere.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Mum!”

I look over at Alice. She rubs her forehead slowly. “Does your brain ache?”

I grimace. “Yeah. Let go see what’s going on out there.”

We walk through the doorway that should lead to De Silva’s secret treasure stack to find a small group of people all clustered around a man with a name badge that says:

NATIONAL TRUST

Nigel Johnsingham

I lean in to Alice. “What the cack-sticks…”

She shrugs. “Don’t ask me.”

The man, Nigel, smooths his long hair back and ties it into a ponytail. “Move in please. Move in.”

We inch closer.

Nigel steps to one side and my eyes widen. Alice’s hand grips my arm like a vice.

Behind a huge, thick, illuminated sheet of glass hung on the wall is a tapestry showing the adventure we just lived. Made up of four lines of pictures the first shows two knights kneeling before the Fae Queen, the second shows them fighting a Minotaur (an actual one this time, not an ogre doing a terrible imitation). Line three shows one knight lying on a mountain of coins, a huge black dragon above, sword raised to connect with the clawed foot descending on him. My heart flutters. That’s me. That’s actually me. I did that. Looking at it now it seems amazing, but back then, in that moment I was just doing whatever I needed to. It’s only looking back from a distance that gives it real meaning.

Alice nudges me. “How cool is that?”

I grin at her. “Looks like we’re famous!”

She nods. “But what’s going on here? Why are all these people in Sir De Silva’s basement?”

National Trust Nigel runs his hand over the glass covering the tapestry. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

A few of the crowd nod and uh-huh in agreement.

“This tapestry,” Nigel continues, “is around one-thousand four-hundred years old.”

More gasps.

“Its origins are shrouded in mystery, as is the story that it tells. Many scholars have been baffled by the images on display here. Particularly as both knights seem to be wearing jeans. Now I know denim is hard-wearing…” A smattering of laughter that Nigel happily soaks up before producing a small white stick from his pocket and pulling on it. It telescopes out to three times the size and he taps it on the area of glass covering the picture of the Fae Queen. “What most can agree on is that this is a representation of a Fairy. Most likely the queen.”

The crowd squeeze in, making awed sounds as they do. As confusing as this all is, my heart swells with pride.

Nigel turns away from the tapestry towards a stone plinth I’d not noticed before. “And if you think that’s strange,” he says. “This is even more bizarre. A stone tablet, seemingly carved by Sir Darren De Silva himself.”

Alice gasps next to me.

Nigel points at her with his stick. “So, you know a little of the history?”

Alice nods, wide-eyed. “I…er…know quite a bit about Sir De Silva.”

Nigel smiles. “Ah, you have foils. Are you students of Sir Bradley?”

Every face turns towards us. Alice hesitates a bit too long, so I jump in. “Yeah. He’s a great teacher.”

“He is indeed. His family has taught sword-fighting in the great hall for centuries. You are the next in a long line.” He taps the stick on the stone plinth. “Move in please. This stone tablet has been dated to around six or seven hundred A.D. It’s a message from Sir De Silva to two knights who he must’ve trained and who completed an as un-yet discovered quest for him.”

Me and Alice push forwards.

Things have gone from weird, to mega-weird to ultra-massive-mega-weird.

The stone tablet is about the size of a page of my school exercise book. It’s got a huge crack down the centre and its edges are rough, broken stone. But what stops the breath in my throat are the words carved into it:

To my friends, Sir A and Sir W. Truly I am happy. And this is because of your courage in the face of a world so very different to the one you knew. As I write this, I await the birth of my first son. He shall be called Bradley as will all those who follow after. If I am lucky enough to have a daughter, I will call her Alice. Second chances are hard to come by. Your gift will never go forgotten.

Yours, through all time.

Sir D.D.S

Alice stares at me, mouth wide open. My head’s spinning.

I’ve no idea what to say. Fortunately, Nigel does. “Scholars have no idea who these mysterious knights Sir A and Sir W might be.”

I cup my hand round my mouth and whisper to Alice. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

She snorts with laughter.

“And,” Nigel continues. “Scholars are also confused as to why Sir De Silva mentions the name Alice. As we all know women cannot be knights.”

“Shows how little he knows,” Alice whispers.

Now it’s my turn to snort with laughter.

Nigel fixes me with his watery brown eyes. “Settle down please, we’re getting to the really interesting bit.” He taps a shield, half black, half yellow that has been painted onto the bottom of the tablet.

The same shield we saw the suits of armour holding a couple of days ago. Might’ve been a couple of years for all that’s happened.

The stick tap, tap, taps against the glass. “This motto has stumped every vexillologist who have studied it.”

The words are gold, painted on a red banner that unfurls across the bottom:

VITA EXTRANEUS FICTA

“Vita means life, I think,” Alice says.

The pointing stick swings towards her and stops, quivering in the air. “Correct! The sentence actually translates as: Life is stranger than fiction.”

Me and Alice glance at one another then burst out laughing.

“Please behave,” Nigel implores. “And what is so funny?”

“Nothing,” I say. “We totally agree.”

Alice guffaws.

Nigel tuts and turns back to the stone.

My phone beeps. It’s Mum:

Are you coming back? Dad wants to leave about 11-ish.

I show Alice.

“Just say we’re already here,” she says.

I shake my head. “Nah. Let’s get home, drop these foils off. Then we can come back and take the full tour. Looks like life is very different without Sir De Silva around. I want to find out how different.”

She taps my arm. “It’s gonna be alright, Brad.”

“I know,” I say.

And I do.