Chapter 41: Back at the windmill
25 February, 2008 – 12:31 amBack in Hillary’s study, they each stood in awkward silence, staring out of the window at the snow falling lazily all about. The room was cold, and even though the fire was crackling and blazing merrily away, it was as if no amount of heat from it would warm the room up.
As the seconds ticked by, it seemed as if the world itself had changed somehow. By how much Hillary couldn’t be sure, but he could feel it. Outside, the snow was falling harder now, blowing in from the direction of Winterton.
No doubt it would get worse and deep down he knew they had precious little time left.
‘They’ve ripped open the world.’ he said, miserably. ‘The snow will continue to fall, but it won’t stop, and there won’t be an inch of the world that it doesn’t touch. Soon, it will be like the bitterest winter, not just here, but everywhere. I don’t suppose any of you have been to Siberia, have you? No, no, such a stupid question…’
Everybody just shook their heads numbly.
‘Well, let’s just say that it’s going to get very cold outside before too long, and if we don’t do something, it’s going to stay like that for a very long time…’
Hillary continued to stare absently through the window and across the frozen marsh, watching the snow gather silently outside.
‘The last time this happened,’ he said, absently, ‘was ten thousand years ago. Something happened that caused a fracture between magic and nature which caused the widening rift between our world and Faerie.’
Hillary looked away from the window. ‘It took centuries to even begin to heal…’ he muttered. ‘Even now, it still isn’t completely mended. ’
Scarlet looked dumbfounded. ‘Centuries?’ she managed, weakly.
Tobias coughed and almost spat his pipe out as he heard the words.
‘What has happened today will most probably close the only bridge between here and there that remains.’ Hillary said. ‘But I think I have a plan though…’
‘Well any plan is better than no plan. Isn’t that what they say?’ Scarlet said, with forced optimism.
Hillary patted her on the head.
‘Indeed.’ he said, with a smile. ‘Indeed…’
‘Like a tyre with a puncture, magic is escaping through the fracture caused by the spell. I’m afraid that soon I will be unable to cast any magic. We must work fast before that happens.’
Hillary stood there deep in thought, rubbing his chin, as everyone stared at him expectantly.
And then he pointed down to the threadbare carpet that Tobias was standing on.
‘Excuse me.’ said Hillary ‘I’ll need to take that.’
Tobias stared down at his feet with a look of puzzlement, and shuffled to one side, as Hillary knelt down and busily started to roll the carpet up.
‘What are you doing with the carpet?’ asked Thomas.
But Hillary didn’t answer. Instead, his mind seemed to be somewhere else as he rushed around the room scouring shelves and looking for things.
‘Are you going to tell us what you’re doing?’ demanded Thomas, now more curious than ever.
‘I just need a couple of essential items…’ Hillary said finally, stuffing a couple of small notebooks into his pocket before running off out of the room and down the stairs with the rolled-up carpet draped over his shoulder.
‘Oh dear… don’t like the sound of this…’ muttered Wendle, stretching out with his paws in front of him and yawning. ‘Wait up.’ he said, and trotted off after him.
* * * * *
At the foot of the stairs, the green wooden door that Scarlet found to be locked the first time she’d set foot in the Windmill was now invitingly open. It made a loud creaking sound as she pushed it open further, revealing a set of worn stone steps that led down into total darkness.
Tobias and Scarlet peered down, whilst Thomas pushed his way between Tobias’ legs.
‘What’s down there then?’ he whispered.
Scarlet shrugged her shoulders, and seemed to be just as confused as he was.
Suddenly there came a crashing sound from the darkness, which curiously sounded like a shelf full of cooking pots collapsing, followed by an indistinct swear word.
‘Hillary?’ shouted Tobias. ‘Are you alright down there?’
A voice from the darkness echoed back.
‘Yes. Fine. You can all come down if you want to…’
‘Would you be so kind as to tell me what you’re up to?’ asked Tobias as he tentatively started his descent. ‘What’s down there?’
Eventually, they all stood at the bottom of the stairs in total darkness.
‘Hillary? Where are you?’ whispered Tobias.
But before he could get his words out, there was a crackling sound like a match being struck, followed by a brightness that cancelled out the dark.
They stood there for a moment, blinded by the intensity of the light.
‘There. That’s better…’ mumbled Hillary.
It took them a while for their eyes to become accustomed to the light, but they eventually found Hillary standing in the centre of what appeared to be a room full of junk, rubbing his head. He held his walking stick in his other hand, which was illuminating the room with a blazing light. On closer inspection, it seemed that the light was not a flame at all. Neither was it electric, nor was it natural, but something else that was altogether indescribable.
Hillary noticed that everyone was staring at his walking stick.
‘The light switch didn’t work.’ he explained. ‘Either that or the bulb’s blown. I started walking before I realised the light hadn’t come on. I don’t know why, but I do that sometimes. I didn’t find that out until I walked into that shelf there.’
He indicated vaguely towards the doorway where it seemed a shelf full of cooking pots had, indeed, collapsed.
‘Now, where was I?’ he muttered, pointing the stick into various inaccessible alcoves and dark crevices.
Tobias walked forward into the middle of the room, stepping carefully over the pots and pans that were strewn across the floor, noticing that the carpet Hillary had carried down the stairs was propped up against a wall.
‘My word. What have you been collecting here?’ he whispered, looking with interest at the shelves and their various contents. ‘There must be at least a thousand items here…’
‘Hmm? Oh, just some things that I picked up on my travels.’ replied Hillary casually with a wave of his hand. ‘No real importance…’
‘Nothing?’ replied Tobias, barely able to conceal his excitement. ‘I think you underestimate what you’ve got here.’
He picked up an item at random from the shelf.
‘Good grief!’ he spluttered and held the object up to the light of Hillary’s staff to get a better view. ‘Is this genuine? Where in the name of heaven did you get this?’
‘That thing? Why, think it’s worth anything?’
‘Hillary, this - I can’t quite believe it - is a twelfth century Arabian telescope. Do you have any idea how much it’s worth, or for that matter how important this is? Where in the name of heaven did you get it?’
‘A friend made it.’
‘Made it you say? So it’s not genuine then. I must say, it’s a very fine replica though…’
‘No, no. You misunderstand. He made it. His name was Badr al-Din - a scientist and astronomer. Very good in optics apparently.’
Tobias almost choked. He’d quite forgotten that Hillary was nearly seven hundred years old.
‘Heavens above! If what you say is true, this could be worth an absolute fortune.’
Hillary turned to Tobias.
‘All these items that are so interesting to you are in fact quite useless to us now at this precise moment in time. So let us please try to concentrate on the task at hand, which is our main priority at the moment. When we’ve done that, then I will quite happily show you everything in my collection… but not before.’
Hillary sighed.
‘Look, if you really want to help, I’m looking for a very small box made of rosewood.’
‘What’s in it?’
‘Just something that I need. Without it we won’t be going anywhere.’ said Hillary, glancing at the carpet that was propped up in the corner.
‘It’ll just point us in the right direction that’s all…’
