And that was the moment when everything began to fall into place.
‘The potion!’ I shouted, jumping to my feet. ‘The potion in the peardrop bottle. It makes you see things.’
It explained everything. The potion made me see my father and my mother although I knew it couldn’t be real. Sybil and Madame de Bona, they came to life because Juno had swung the potion around the room. But what about the old man over the river, why didn’t I see him revive? Because I was hidden in the linen chest. I had a cloth around my mouth and nose so I couldn’t smell the potion.
The brothers smelt it, though, and the mother. And they thought their father had come back to life. They asked him about money, but it was Juno’s voice I heard in reply, because she was the voice of the dead. And of course she didn’t know where the money was.
The answers were coming thick and fast now. What of the unguent? What part did it play? I remembered how it cleared Juno’s head earlier this evening. ‘Of course,’ I said out loud. ‘They use it to protect themselves from the effects of the potion.’
I laughed. It was all so simple. Juno was right: the answer really was under my nose all the time.
Now that I had solved the puzzle, I was even more anxious to see her. Despite her absence I could still smell her; the scent of juniper was strong in the room, suspiciously so, I thought. In fact, easily as strong as when she was with me. I sniffed again and followed my nose, like a dog, down to the floor. It was definitely at its most pungent under the bed and when I saw the string I knew why. I pulled it out and held it up and looked at the tarnished locket that swung before me. I opened it with my fingernail and saw within the yellow juniper unguent. I sniffed it cautiously and in an instant my head cleared and everything around me was as sharp as a newly cut quill.
‘Where have you gone?’ I whispered as I turned the locket over in my hand. There were two letters engraved on the back.
And that was when I was fit to kill her.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
A Difficult Task
It hadn’t snowed for some time, but the skies were grey and heavy overhead, and evidence of the earlier scuffle outside the lodging house was still visible. As was the set of footprints that led away from the house. Pin knew instinctively that they were Juno’s.
Grim-faced he followed them, towards the Bridge – it wouldn’t surprise him if they led out of the City – but then the trail turned in the other direction. It started to snow lightly and Pin cursed under his breath. He had to hurry. Soon he wouldn’t be able to see the prints at all. He followed them all the way to Hollow Lane where they led him right up to the churchyard gates.
Pin watched as Juno scraped uselessly at the frozen earth around his mother’s grave. Her trunk and a brown bag lay on the ground beside her. His heart was like a rock and his jaw was set firm. Every muscle in his body was taut.
‘Juno.’
Startled she dropped the spade and turned her head quickly. When she saw him she looked shocked. She got to her feet.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I could ask you the same thing,’ said Pin. ‘As for me, I came to tell you that I’ve found out your secret. It’s the potion, isn’t it? It makes you see what you want to see. And the juniper unguent, in the locket, it clears your head. That’s why you use it, you and Benedict, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ said Juno.
‘So why did you run off like that? And what are you doing here?’
‘It’s not what you think,’ said Juno, confused by the harshness of his tone. ‘I can explain it all.’ Her face was ghostly, her hands were trembling.
‘I thought you were my friend.’
‘I am your friend. That’s why I’m here. Can’t you see? I’m trying to make it right.’
‘How can you make it right?’
‘By putting things back where they were.’
‘How can you do that when I have it?’
Juno looked thoroughly bewildered. ‘Pin, what are you talking about?’
‘The locket, you fool. The one you stole from my own mother’s grave.’ And he pulled it from his pocket and swung it in front of her. ‘What happened to the silver chain? Did you sell it?’
Juno’s hand went automatically to her neck even though she knew the string would not be there. ‘My locket! Where did you find it?’
‘Your locket?’ Pin almost spat with fury. ‘This is my mother’s locket. You stole it from her dead neck. I can’t believe it, you’re just a lousy grave robber.’
‘But it’s mine,’ insisted Juno. ‘Look at the back.’
Pin held up the locket and there, clearly visible in the moonlight, were the initials J C.
‘They’re my mother’s initials,’ he said. ‘Jocelyn Carpue.’
Juno stared him straight in the face. ‘Or Juno Catch-pole.’ Her voice was cold and low.
Pin sneered. ‘Your name is Juno Pantagus. Benedict is your uncle.’ But even as he said the words his voice faltered. Suddenly he wasn’t so confident.
‘Benedict is not my uncle,’ she said evenly. ‘We just say that he is. It sounds better that we are related. After all, our ‘‘magic’’ is inherited.’
Pin staggered and sank to the ground, his head in his hands. ‘Oh Juno, I’m so sorry. I should have trusted you. But what was I supposed to think? My mother was buried with a silver locket, her last piece of jewellery.’ He looked up in despair. ‘Why are you here? What are you digging for?’
‘Pin,’ said Juno slowly, ‘I’ve got to tell you the truth.’
‘The truth? What do you mean? I know everything. Just give me another chance. We can still go together. You can be the Bone Magician and I’ll be your assistant—’
‘Stop,’ commanded Juno, and Pin quietened. ‘I want you to come with me, of course I do, but you have to know something first. I’m here because I was trying to put something back. I know it was stupid, idiotic, but I had to try. I couldn’t live with myself otherwise.’ She picked up the brown bag and offered it to Pin.
‘This is yours, by right.’
Slowly and with shaking hands Pin took the bag. He knelt on the ground and pulled apart the strings and turned it upside down. There tumbled out before him a pile of dry bones. But still he didn’t understand. And there was something else, a brown skull, with wispy hair, that rolled out and stopped at his feet.
‘Madame de Bona?’ he whispered.
‘No,’ said Juno. ‘Your mother.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Juno Tells a Story
Pin looked up in utter bewilderment. His stomach lurched. He thought he might be sick.
‘My mother? But how?’
‘Let me tell you . . .’
‘My mother died when I was very young. I have no memory of her at all, it was my father who brought me up. He was a physician in a town not far from here. He did well enough, and he taught me everything he knew. About the healing properties of herbs and spices. About how to make unguents and tonics and potions, how to apply cups and leeches. And he showed me how to make the Credo potion, the one I use at the raisings. You’re right to think it’s the key. It’s a suggestible potion, you see. It frees the mind to see what it wants to see. All you have to do is focus on what you wish for and when you inhale the potion, it allows you to experience your dreams. Only for a little while, though, but long enough. All those people who came to see Madame de Bona, in their hearts they wanted to believe that she could come back to life. And because that’s what they desired, that’s what they got. As for their questions, they already knew the answers they wanted, but it felt better to hear them from someone else, even if it was a skeleton. You’re right about the juniper unguent in the locket too. It protects you from the Credo potion.
‘Anyway, we did well enough. People were grateful to my father for curing their ills and they paid him good money. They even left him some when they died. But then a rumour started that he had become greedy, that he was killing people for their money. And no
t long after that he was murdered, by trickery.
‘Of course everything changed for me then. People began to say that I might have had a hand in my father’s scheming and life became impossible. You know how it is to be treated like a criminal even when you are innocent. I suffered in the same way. So I left the town and came to Urbs Umida. I found out soon enough that it is a lonely and cruel place and I did not fare too well. I had taken to sheltering in the churchyard at night. I felt safe there. Pickpockets and thieves tend to ply their trade among the living, not the dead. As for grave robbers and body snatchers, well, they were too busy to take any notice of a pauper girl trying to sleep. When I first saw Benedict I thought he was just another one of them. I came upon him, digging up a grave, towards the end of last summer.’
‘My mother’s?’ said Pin softly and Juno nodded.
‘‘‘If you’re looking for a body then that’s the wrong grave,’’ I said to him. ‘‘Been dead six months. It’ll only be bones.’’
‘‘‘That’s what I want,’’ he said.
‘‘‘Bones? What do you want bones for?’’
‘He stood up and looked at me. I could tell that he was old, too old for digging.
‘‘‘You look like a strong lass,’’ he said. ‘‘Help me out here. This’ll be the death of me.’’
‘I didn’t move. He understood well enough. We agreed on a shilling and I took the spade. It wasn’t that hard. The ground was soft after a rainfall, the earth was loose enough, and he’d done most of the work already. It wasn’t long before I had the coffin unearthed. And I was right, only bones. Benedict seemed pleased.’
‘What about her locket?’ asked Pin suddenly.
‘There was nothing, believe me,’ said Juno softly. ‘I swear it. I think that perhaps the grave had already been robbed. The coffin lid was not nailed down.’ She looked at Pin. ‘Is this too much for you? Do you want me to stop?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I want to know everything.’
‘Well, Benedict put the bones into the bag and made ready to go. I was intrigued and I asked him what he was going to do with them. He said that he had thought of a way to make money. He was going to travel with the skeleton and exhibit her as a sort of soothsayer who could tell fortunes.
‘‘‘And how is she going to do that?’’ I asked. ‘‘She is dead.’’
‘‘‘I thought perhaps I could throw my voice,’’ he said.
‘I laughed. I told him the whole idea was preposterous and that it could never work.
‘Benedict was a little put out. ‘‘Do you have a better idea?’’
‘‘‘In fact I do,’’ I said and I told him about the Credo potion. I was certain that we could use it to our advantage. Together Benedict and I hatched our plan. He would be the Bone Magician and I would make the potion and do the voices. That’s why I wore such a long hood, so people couldn’t see that Madame de Bona’s voice was actually mine. No one was looking at me anyway. We left the City and travelled all over the country. It suited me well enough. We made money, especially from private raisings, and as we went from place to place I made enquiries about the man who murdered my father. And sometimes, just once or twice, we were close to him, but always we were too late.’
‘But what about all the questions?’ asked Pin. ‘How did you know what to say?’
Juno smiled. ‘I became quite skilled at answering questions without actually saying anything. You should know, Pin. You asked Madame de Bona about your father. I hardly told you anything helpful, but when you’re under the influence of the Credo potion anything I say sounds plausible. All those exhortations to Hades, master of the shades of the dead. It means nothing. It’s all for show. The only thing that really matters is the potion.
‘But things have changed. Benedict’s health started to fail and I still hadn’t found the man I was looking for. And other things were troubling me too. I began to feel that what we were doing wasn’t right. When I heard the same questions being asked of Madame de Bona over and over again, I realized that I was cheating these people, influencing their minds with my potion and telling them what they wanted to hear, lies disguised as the truth. I said to Benedict that I didn’t want to do any more private raisings and we agreed that Sybil would be the last one. Mr Belding wasn’t just a curious spectator who came to be entertained. He was a desperate man. That was the hardest thing I have ever done, maybe the cruellest, pretending to forgive him.’
‘Is that why you don’t want to take Madame de Bona with you when you leave the City?’ asked Pin. He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘my mother’.
‘Partly,’ said Juno. ‘But I only made my mind up for definite tonight, when I saw the white flower in your handkerchief. You said you found it on your mother’s grave.’
Pin nodded slowly. ‘But what’s that go to do with anything?’
By now Juno was speaking between wrenching sobs. ‘You see, Pin, I put the flowers on her grave, only I didn’t know who she was then. When I found out tonight I couldn’t believe what I had done. How could I take Madame de Bona, your mother, with me after that? I decided to leave without you – cowardly, I know, but I was in shock. I’ve tried to make it right, to put her back. But I can’t. The ground is too hard.’
Juno looked at Pin through glassy, red-rimmed eyes. ‘Can you ever forgive me?’ she whispered. ‘It’s a terrible thing I’ve done.’
Pin stood up shakily and went to Juno and put his arms around her. ‘Of course I forgive you. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt, but you weren’t to know. And you were trying to make things right.’
‘Here,’ said Juno. She handed him a posy of dried white flowers. ‘Daisies from the Moiraean Mountains. I was going to put them in the coffin. They mean ‘‘sorry’’.’
Chapter Forty
Article from
The Urbs Umida Daily Chronicle
SILVER APPLE KILLER UNCOVERED
by
Deodonatus Snoad
My Dear Readers,
I am sure that by now there are very few of you out there who have not heard of the escape of the Gluttonous Beast. At this point in time I cannot comment on his whereabouts or his intentions, but no doubt you will find these out for yourselves soon enough.
There is every possibility you also know that it was I, Deodonatus Snoad, who released the Beast. Perhaps it was Mr Idolice who told you. I wonder: did he also tell you how he kept me in captivity for eight years in his travelling circus, Rudy Idolice’s Peregrinating Panopticon of Wonders, and showed me under the name of Mr Hideous? I suffered daily, as did the Beast, the torment of being poked and prodded and stared at. But, unlike the Beast, I was able to break free and to pursue my life as I wished. Perhaps now you begin to understand why I would do such a thing as to allow a Beast of wholly unrestrained temperament to roam free in the City. All I will have done is to afford him the same opportunity as I had, and I am sure that he will be grateful for it. Of course, there is always the possibility that you will not even notice him among you, such is the nature of this city.
There is one other thing I can reveal on this page, my final piece for the Chronicle. I am quite certain that this is a fact not yet in your possession: the identity of the Silver Apple Killer. I can divulge this to you now because I intend to be far away from Urbs Umida when you read this. Like the Beast, I will start a new life.
You see, my Dear Readers – and I mean that with the utmost sincerity, as I realize now that you have in your own way been my only friends these past few years – I, Deodonatus Snoad, your humble servant in all newsworthy matters of this city, am the Silver Apple Killer.
But why? I hear you cry. What have we done to deserve this?
Well, let me tell you. You went to gaze upon the Beast. That is what you did.
At least I am not like him, you thought, as you stared heartlessly at him in his cage. And then you walked out on to the Bridge and wondered why you were struck down. And now the Beast is free to take his own revenge. Perhaps he has a
lready. And it is no more than you deserve, every gawping one of you.
Remember,
There will be no next time,
Deodonatus Snoad
Note from the Editor:
This piece was delivered to the offices of the Chronicle the same night as the Beast was released. Bearing in mind the subject of the article, we considered that you, the people of Urbs Umida, should have the opportunity to read it. Unfortunately, there is no news of the Beast as yet. We can only hope that he is captured before anyone else comes to any harm. As for Deodonatus Snoad, he was found dead in the Beast’s cage, along with Rudy Idolice, the morning following its release. We can only speculate that the Beast was not as grateful for his freedom as Deodonatus might have wished.
The Editor
PS As far as we can make out, the Greek quotation means:
‘An ass thinks an ass a pretty fellow.’
Make of it what you will.
Chapter Forty-One
Pin’s Journal
Well, Dear Reader (as Deodonatus was so fond of saying, although I do not suppose so many will ever read this journal as read the ‘Chronicle’), I cannot say when I will be writing again. We are packed and ready to go, Juno and I, and we have said our goodbyes. I shall not miss Urbs Umida, but I shall miss Squid’s Gate Alley, where we leave some good friends: Benedict and Aluph – to whom I gave for safe keeping my mother’s bones – Beag, and Mrs Hoadswood, who has sustained us with her cooking in this miserable place. We gratefully take some with us in our bags.