Page 20 of Fiendish Delights
‘Are you okay, Daisy?’ Hugo’s voice was rough.
‘Yes.’ I glanced at him. His tawny hair was mussed and his once-pristine white shirt was covered in a layer of fine ash. ‘Are you?’
‘I’m fine.’
I swallowed. ‘Otis?’
His head popped out of Hugo’s pocket and he waved. ‘I’m good.’
I breathed out and opened my pocket where I’d last seen Hester. When I saw she wasn’t there, my stomach dropped. Then I noticed her next to Mud, peering anxiously into his face. ‘Mr McAlpine?’ she squeaked. She sounded worried – and that wasn’t like her.
I darted over. Mud had collapsed in a heap; the effort of whatever he’d done to expel Sophia had clearly taken its toll. Given the fracture he must have received to his skull, there was also a chance his brain was bleeding. He desperately needed medical attention.
‘So close,’ he whispered. He seemed to be fading in and outof consciousness but every time he focused his attention, it was on the tiny scraps of paper that were all that remained of the scroll. ‘Mud McAlpine’s life’s work.’
‘An ambulance is on its way.’ Hugo reached out and gripped Mud’s shoulder. ‘Hang in there. You’ll be alright.’
‘The scroll. Is there…?’ His voice drifted away for a few seconds and his eyes glazed over. Then he blinked and started again. ‘Is there anything left of the scroll?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Hugo said, without looking at me. ‘It’s gone.’
‘But Sophia’s gone too,’ I told him. ‘You got rid of her. You saved the day.’ I wrapped my arms around my body as terrible guilt shivered through me. ‘I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault. I didn’t recognise Sophia for what she was.’
‘Zashtum.’
I tilted my head. ‘Pardon?’
‘Her name was Zashtum,’ Mud whispered. ‘She has gone but…’ He gestured to his failing body, and his voice cracked with the effort of producing coherent speech. ‘Not Daisy Carter’s fault. Mud McAlpine didn’t re-set the wards. Mud McAlpine knew better.’
‘Hush,’ Hugo said. ‘Don’t use up your energy. You don’t need to talk.’
Mud wasn’t interested in Hugo’s advice. He lifted his head and gazed at us. ‘Zashtum is not the only fiend. There are others and they all want the treasure. They want the ancient magic for themselves.’
He sighed mournfully. ‘The scroll would have revealed its location. Mud could have found it and kept it safe so no fiend could use it. But Mud McAlpine has failed.’ A single tear squeezed out of his eye. ‘Mud McAlpine has failed,’ he said again.
‘Can’t you conjure up another scroll to find it?’ I asked as if the poor man wasn’t already at death’s door. I washoping to imbue him with a fighting spirit to energise him enough to keep breathing until the paramedics arrived.
Mud sighed. ‘Only … ever … one. It’s lost now. Mud is lost.’ His face sagged. As far as Mud McAlpine was concerned, the world was ending. He’d clearly thrown every part of himself into the hunt for this mysterious mythical treasure; now it was over and, with nothing left to show for it, his depression was catastrophic.
‘I saw it,’ I said.
He stared at me.
I cleared my throat. ‘I mean, not all of it but I saw some of it. I saw some of what was on the scroll.’
A desperate light flared in his eyes. ‘Daisy Carter will tell Lord Hugo Pemberville. Lord Hugo Pemberville will find the treasure for Mud.’
Hmm. ‘Or Daisy Carter could find the treasure herself,’ I suggested.
Mud’s selective hearing skills were extraordinary. ‘Promise,’ he said to Hugo. ‘Promise Mud McAlpine that Hugo Pemberville will look for the treasure.’
Hugo nodded. ‘I promise.’
Mud exhaled in relief. ‘The fiends cannot have it.’
‘They won’t.’
He licked his lips. ‘Mud McAlpine says thank you.’ And with that, he could no longer cling on to consciousness. His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed.
