Tregarthur's Crystal: Book 4 (The Tregarthur's Series) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Tregarthur’s Series

  Prologue

  The Search Begins

  Train

  Necklace

  London

  Lost Girl

  The Idea

  The Writer

  A Visit

  The Riot

  It Isn’t Curry

  Back to the Moor

  Tregarthur’s Cave

  The Sound of the Moor

  New Clothes, New Plans

  Paris

  Coffee

  Malade

  Repatriation

  Lies

  The Family

  A Battle in Time.

  About The Author

  We'd Love to hear from you!

  Tregarthur’s Series

  BOOK 4

  First published in Great Britain in 2017

  by Cillian Press Limited. 83 Ducie Street, Manchester M1 2JQ

  www.cillianpress.co.uk

  Copyright © Alex Mellanby 2017

  The right of Alex Mellanby to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-909776-20-3 - eBook ISBN: 978-1-909776-21-0

  Cover Photography: 'Eiffel Tower 2'. Copyright © Carol Herak-Kramberger 2011 'Lost Places' by Michael Gaida.

  This book is dedicated, as before, to Pat Read and all the walkers who have and will take up the challenge of the Ten Tors. I hope the weather on Dartmoor is never this bad.

  Thanks to Paul Smith, the archivist for Thomas Cook who provided help with foreign travel in the 1900s. Also thanks for the inspiration from the wonderful photographs of Paris by Eugène Atget (1857-1927). His ‘Marchand d'abat-jour’ could be no one other than a spy.

  Cillian Press have, as always, been fantastic and patiently waited for this story to appear. Carolyn’s perpetual re-reading and helpful critique has so helped me to bring this story alive.

  Prologue

  I am Alvin Carter, probably sixteen, but that might be sixteen thousand or more because I’ve seen cavemen, the Black Death and convicts transported to Australia.

  The stones of the moor guard a way through time and Miss Alice Tregarthur with her stolen crystal controlled that gateway. Her plan is my death.

  This time Jenna and I, we will stop her, we must stop her.

  The Search Begins

  -1-

  Why Jenna, why? Why am I still up here on this damp muddy hill? Seconds earlier we were heading home. Then you took me by the arm. I know where we are; but I have no idea about the when.

  ‘Why is it always raining?’ I moaned.

  ‘It’s only drizzle.’ Jenna smiled at me.

  ‘It’s always drizzle.’ I smiled back. ‘That’s unless it’s a storm, a gale, or an earthquake.’

  We sheltered under the overhang of nearby rocks. The sky cleared. I was wrong. Sometimes the moor can be bright and beautiful. Behind us were the Hanging Stones. Surely this strange balanced formation could never be just one piece of stone? Wisps of hazy smoke still blew in the air, smoke that signalled a way through time; smoke that would soon be gone.

  ‘You’ll tell me why?’ I spoke my thoughts to Jenna.

  Perhaps she was about to reply, or at least to nod. But a gunshot echoed against the rocks below and we scrabbled forward to look, staying close to the ground. We heard shouts. Further down the hill there were three people and a horse. We knew those three, not the horse. All three wanted me dead.

  The older woman had the gun. Her hair blew like straw in the wind, her cloak billowed around her. Miss Alice Tregarthur, once our crazy teacher, was reloading. The other two ran in our direction, screaming and shouting and stumbling over rough ground. The murderous Zach, previously just a playground bully, fell to the ground. Demelza, once the school queen bitch, dropped beside him – still screaming. Miss Tregarthur, failing to reload her ancient pistol another time, roared a curse before jumping on the horse and riding away at speed.

  Jenna jumped up. ‘Come on,’ she shouted, setting off down the hill towards the fallen pair.

  ‘Help him,’ Demelza pleaded, leaning over Zach, who groaned as blood seeped through his shirt. Her words were for Jenna. I was the last person to ask for help.

  ‘Leave him,’ I said, cross that only one of them had been shot.

  Jenna turned on me, her face inches from mine. No words, just her hard stare as she waited for me to climb down, as she knew I would. And I did. No point in my arguing with Jenna. She meant too much to me. I never understood how she had become a caring person. Her life story had made her such a hard girl at school and although that hardness often broke through, it didn’t at that moment.

  A few minutes later I was carrying Zach’s bleeding body back up to the Hanging Stones. We lowered him on the ground. Only the faintest haze of smoke remained until Jenna walked towards the stones and the mist grew thicker. Was this really a sign that the time tunnel would open again?

  The smoke was enough for Demelza, who ran forward, darting under the rock, trying to escape. I didn’t really care if I never saw her again and I stayed where I was. Zach was coming round, still groaning. I guess he saw the mist and he started crawling towards it. The grass stained red underneath him.

  ‘Jen,’ I shouted, watching Zach but doing nothing. I was losing them all in the mist. ‘Come back. Do I let him go?’

  Jenna returned, with Demelza in a headlock. Despite Demelza squirming, wrestling and trying to bite and scream, Jenna had a firm hold. Jenna’s hardness had returned and she squeezed tighter.

  I could still see the smoky mist. Shouldn’t we all try to leave? Jenna shook her head, reading my thoughts again. She had led me here and whatever her reasons, I was going to stay with her.

  Zach disappeared. ‘He’s gone,’ Jenna said. I could see that he had disappeared and so had the mist. Jenna seemed certain the tunnel had taken him. I didn’t understand how she knew that. Something else had happened. Had I heard Jenna actually talking to the rocks?

  Jenna dropped Demelza on the grass. ‘What happened?’ she asked.

  ‘Miss Tregarthur just shot him,’ Demelza snapped. ‘And why didn’t you let us all go? We could have got away, gone home.’

  That was the same question I wanted to ask.

  Jenna wasn’t going to explain yet. ‘Why did she shoot him?’

  Demelza huffed and turned away.

  ‘I’ll ask you one more time. If you don’t start talking, then it’s time for pain.’ Jenna, the very hard girl, said. ‘So, why did she shoot him?’

  In the silence Jenna said to me, ‘Alvin, could you get a few pieces of wood together and light a fire?’

  I turned away rather than laugh as Jenna hid her smile.

  ‘You wouldn’t?’ Demelza looked at us, her face screwed up as though we’d already started.

  ‘I thought we’d burn her to death,’ Jenna said, with her hand hiding her mouth. ‘After she talks.’

  That might seem a little harsh and I didn’t really believe Jenna would do it, but only just a little harsh. If I’d been alone … well. Demelza and Zach had sentenced us to burn to d
eath in the village of the Black Death. Demelza needed to take the threat seriously.

  ‘I’ll get the wood.’ I could see a few scrubby trees a few yards away.

  ‘Wait,’ Demelza blurted as I walked away. ‘We came out of the tunnel, went down the hill and she just fired her gun at him.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked, gathering a few sticks, thinking I’d need a lot more. ‘Why would she shoot him? You’ve done all the terrible things she wanted you to do. Something else must have happened.’

  Demelza hiccupped a sob and tried to scrabble away. Jenna resumed the headlock while I made a pile of the twigs.

  ‘Zach snatched the crystal from her. We just wanted to go home.’ Demelza spoke with difficulty being half strangled. ‘She shot at him, missed but he dropped it and we ran off. She still got him with the next shot.’

  ‘It’s always the crystal.’ Jenna let go of Demelza and lent forward with her head in her hands. ‘Zach had it and we should have helped him to keep it.’

  Was that right? Why would we let it get into Zach’s hands, or Demelza’s? The shimmering crystal was the way Miss Tregarthur controlled the time tunnel, forcing it to obey her orders. But it was done by torture. No one could forget the terrible scream of agony that came from the Hanging Stones each time she crashed her iron bar down on the crystal. That was how she made time work for her.

  ‘It has to get back to the tunnel,’ Jenna turned to me. ‘The crystal is part of it, something alive within the rock, without it there is only pain, I felt that awful pain. We must get it back. Alvin, that’s why I wanted you to come with me. We have to do this.’

  ‘And if we do get it back?’ I said.

  ‘The tunnel will take us home. It took Zach with his injury; it will take us.’ There was something missing in Jenna’s words.

  ‘And if we don’t get it back?’ I said, adding the missing part.

  ‘The crystal won’t work,’ Demelza butted in. ‘It’s running out.’

  We said nothing and waited.

  Demelza went on: ‘The crystal was starting to fade, the light inside it is going out. It’s not going to work much longer, that’s why Zach grabbed it.’

  Her voice became more hopeless. ‘We’re never going to get anywhere. If her crystal thing is finished, we’re stuck here forever.’ Demelza could see the effect of her words. ‘You can do what you like to me but it won’t make any difference.’

  ‘Did she try to call the tunnel again?’ Jenna asked.

  ‘She tried and tried, hitting that thing before you arrived. I was expecting the screaming noise to start, but nothing happened. I tell you we’re stuck; not going anywhere. She said there was no way it was ever going to work again.’

  ‘Why didn’t she shoot you?’ I asked, thinking it would have been a good idea.

  ‘She just ran off saying something about curry, or that’s what I heard.’

  ‘Curry?’ Jenna and I shouted together.

  We were still sitting around the Hanging Stones and it wasn’t getting any warmer. We would have to leave, to get off the moor.

  ‘Jen,’ I said. ‘It’s not always … not always about the crystal, is it? This time it took Zach. You didn’t have the crystal.’

  ‘It does what it wants,’ Jenna said. ‘Sometimes it will even do what you want.’

  ‘It won’t do that now, will it?’ Demelza said, getting angry. ‘Will it Jenna? Tell us why it won’t take us anywhere now.’

  Jenna just stared out into the moor.

  ‘It won’t do anything until we bring back the crystal,’ Demelza was on her feet shouting. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? That’s what you’ve agreed. I heard you. You’ve agreed that with this tunnel thing.’ I think Demelza added words under her breath like stupid and worse.

  Jenna was up and ready for a fight. But her fists dropped and I could see tears in her eyes. ‘I had no choice. Whatever has happened to the crystal we must still get it back.’

  Something in the absolute pain of the tunnel had worked into Jenna’s mind. I could see Demelza thinking this through – no crystal, no going home. She would have to stay with us, at least until we found Miss Tregarthur.

  ‘Well, if that’s what we have to do, we’d better get on with it, come on.’ I led the way down the hill and the other two followed. If this was what Jenna had agreed, then I would do it with her.

  We were going after Miss Tregarthur. It hadn’t been difficult to see which way she went; it was a direction we had taken before in a different time.

  After we had been walking for a while Demelza stopped. ‘Why didn’t you let me go with Zach? You don’t need me; you could have let me go.’

  ‘Oh, but we do need you,’ Jenna pushed her onwards. ‘We need you to tell us everything you know. And if you don’t, then striking you with an iron bar will be much too gentle for you.’

  ‘But I’ve told you everything,’ Demelza stumbled.

  ‘No you haven’t. You really haven’t. Keep walking.’ Jenna pushed her again.

  Hours later we stumbled into the village on the edge of the moor.

  ‘Rats?’ I said. This was a place we knew, where so many had died of the plague, in the time of the Black Death.

  ‘It’s not the same time.’ Jenna pointed to an inn with a sign above it, promising ale and beds for the night. ‘It’s not the same. Different houses.’

  There were fewer old wooden buildings, fewer buildings altogether. There were no wires, no electric lights to light the early evening. We were not in our own time.

  ‘It’s nearer though?’ Jenna said, looking around.

  ‘Nearer to what?’ I was confused.

  Jenna stood in front of me. ‘Not so far back in time. I think we’re getting nearer to our own time. We never go back further than we have been already.’

  ‘That’s because she’s worn it out.’ Demelza did have more to say: ‘The tunnel thing is getting weaker along with the crystal. Miss Tregarthur had wanted to return to the time of the cavemen but it didn’t work, no matter how many times Miss Tregarthur hit it.’

  ‘Anything more you’ve forgotten to tell us?’ Jenna turned on her.

  ‘No, nothing,’ Demelza squirmed away getting closer to me. I felt she did that on purpose. She hadn’t told us everything, but I was tired and hungry and didn’t feel like another struggle. I went towards the inn.

  ‘No money,’ Jenna said, as we stood outside. ‘Just the two leftover coins we had from our time before.’ She repeated, ‘No other money.’

  Jenna was making it pretty clear that I needed to keep quiet about the gold belt I had wound around my arm, a reward for saving the King of England back in the time of the Black Death. The belt needed to stay hidden, it was just too valuable. We were lucky to have it at all, rescued from one of Miss Tregarthur’s relatives.

  We went in through the inn’s old wooden door, which creaked loudly as we entered. The bar was just a room, full of smoke. In one corner, I could just make out three old men who stopped talking and stared at us when we walked in. A grubby looking woman in a worn apron and ragged clothes sat in front of the smouldering fire peeling a few potatoes. She muttered something about more people.

  ‘What do you want?’ She was the landlady and not too pleased about it.

  It turned out that the two coins were worth enough for a night at the inn. Did that mean they were still in use, that we hadn’t moved very far forward in time? I didn’t think it meant anything, the coins were probably silver and that was valuable. The inn was a poor place. The landlady called for ‘Tom’ who showed us up to a room.

  She said the room came with food in the bar – bread and mouldy potatoes. I worried about going into the bar – how would we answer questions? What would Demelza say and would she try to run off?

  The three men still sat in the dark smoky room, big enough to take more people. It looked like they could have been there for some time, days possibly, and were drinking their way through anything the inn had left. One of the men slipped off his seat when
we entered the bar and started snoring. When he did wake up he started going on about machinery.

  ‘The devil’s business,’ he slurred. ‘Who are you?’ he pointed at me.

  I was wondering what to say but there was no need. He turned to the others, and they went back to arguing about machines and why everyone had left the village. Often repeating that it was the ‘devil’s business’. Actually nearly all their conversation was repeating things and calling for more drink.

  ‘Moving for money,’ the landlady muttered. ‘That’s where he’s gone.’

  ‘Her husband,’ cackled one of old men. ‘Best rid of him, Bettie.’

  She’d been abandoned with her son, Tom. This place wasn’t going to make a life for them. The men drinking weren’t paying, just taking advantage in the absence of the landlord. Once again this village was losing the young men, just like in the time of the Black Death.

  We did get a few more questions.

  ‘From Poland,’ I used the cover story we’d used once before and we tried to talk in the chopped speech one of us had used last time.

  ‘Foreign, eh?’

  That seemed to satisfy the men, being foreign and not knowing anything about machines meant we weren’t interesting. Whenever Demelza looked like saying anything, Jenna poked her under the table; Jenna’s pokes are very hard.

  Later we creaked up the stairs to our room, one room. I let the girls have the bed. Well that’s not actually true. I’d suggested we all shared, with Demelza in the middle in case she changed her mind and did run off.

  But Jenna didn’t like the look on Demelza’s face when she said, with a coy smile: ‘Share the bed with Alvin, fine by me.’ Nor probably the look on my face either. I got the floor.

  ‘Do we really need to keep her with us?’ I asked when we were woken in the night by creaks, groans and scuttling – I didn’t think all the rats had left. ‘She’s no use and doesn’t seem to know anything.’