Chapter 31
Constance stood, hidden from view in the shadowed corner beneath the college's main staircase. The golden, grey stone of the stairs loomed in reverse relief above her head and the late afternoon sun shone through the tall, paned windows of the entrance hall casting a checkerboard of golden lit squares across the floor. She could hear the distant chatter and echoing clinking of cutlery and glassware spilling from the refectory over the flagstones towards her. She tried to keep her tall figure concealed as she waited.
After her encounter with Mistress Broomhead, a little over an hour earlier, Constance begun feeling a sensation which was completely new to her. She felt completely uncertain, her usually rational and deductive brain could not see the next step forward, and she found herself entirely at a loss as to what she should do next. This turbulent feeling combined with the unrelenting burning sensation caused by her bracelet had caused her to be lose her temper with her first-year spell class. Constance was used to the groups jubilant and at times unruly chatter, recognising it generally as enthusiasm for the topic and the general excited freedom that came with the first year in college. But in her lesson that afternoon, she had found herself sharp and unable to keep her patience, snapping at them several times so that when they had left her class, it had been in a far more subdued manner than usual. Constance had sunk down into her chair and placed her head in her hands before being disturbed by a gentle, but enquiring voice.
"Is everything alright Miss Hardbroom" Constance looked up to find the large, compassionate eyes of Victoria meeting hers. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No" Constance had at once begun to feel guilty about her outbursts "thank you Victoria"
Victoria had nodded with a small smile and turned to go, when suddenly Constance called her back. Her solitary young life had made her so used to relying solely on her own wits, but she recognised Victoria's enquiry for what it was – an offer of help. And Victoria was not the only person who would give Constance help if she would only remember to ask for it. Picking up her pen, Constance had hastily scribbled a note.
"Wait, Victoria" the girl had turned back towards her willingly "could you take this note to Mistress Fairwind for me?"
Constance didn't have to wait long before she heard the light, rapid patter of feet approaching across the entrance hall, and in a moment, Gwendoline stood before her full of concern. It didn't take Constance long to update her on what happened a few hours before.
"You need to leave Constance and today" Gwendoline held up her hand to stop Constance asking her any questions and continued in an urgent, hushed voice "Never mind the details, I thought it might come to this so have been putting things in motion. But it is probably safer that you know as little as possible until the time comes. Try and carry on as normal and I will meet you in your room at a quarter to nine. It won't give us much of a head start but any earlier and it will arouse her suspicion if you aren't where you have said you will be. Pack anything of value and do not let Morgana out, but you can't take everything. It needs to look like you haven't left for as long as possible."
Constance nodded, overwhelmed with relief that Gwendoline seemed to know what to do when she herself was so at a loss. Gwendoline reached out to touch her friend's hand reassuringly and her fingers brushed against the hot silver bracelet. She frowned slightly, before giving a resolute nod.
"Don't worry Constance, it will all be ok. Trust me" she said, before turning and disappearing back across the entrance hall.
Constance had no other option but to continue with the familiar routine of her day; eating in the refectory, seeing two first year students for their short tutorials and running her drop-in hour for students who wanted additional assistance. Finally, she prepared her ingredients and materials for the class that she knew, regardless of what happened that evening, she would not be teaching the next morning. The routine was so familiar and time consuming that she may almost have been able to put what was to transpire that evening to the back of her mind, if it were not for Mistress Broomhead's cat Hemlock whose gleaming yellow eyes she spotted several times at the window of her classroom. Presumably sent by Mistress Broomhead to ensure she was following her normal schedule.
At 20 to nine, she gathered a textbook and some papers from her desk so as to give her feline spy the impression she was departing with a purpose, and made her way across the quad and up the back staircase to her room. Once she was there, she scanned the corridor to make sure there was no sign of her Hemlock shaped shadow, before closing the door. She picked up a small, brown leather shoulder bag from beneath her desk and quickly packed it with her items of value. All the while she was surveyed by an indignant Morgana who was sat on her desk near the window wondering why she had not yet been let out on her nightly hunt. Firstly into the bag went three crisp and neatly folded white handkerchiefs which were hiding the truth from prying eyes: the first was the bundle of letters and photographs she had received from Roberta and Celeste over the last year, the second her collection of research papers from her thesis, manuscript and book and lastly the research fellowship offer letter from Morgause Chant. Secondly, was the heavy grey almanac itself made to fit in the bag through the use of a compression spell. Then finally were her very small collection of sentimental items. An ornate, silver hairbrush which had been her mothers. A small gold broach shaped like a frog with tiny, pin-prick emeralds for eyes that had belonged to her great Aunt. The two silver medals emblazoned with the college crest which had been her prizes from her undergraduate graduation. Lastly, a small bracelet beaded with countless fragments of sea-worn shells which had been a gift from Gwendoline on her last birthday.
She had just put the bag on her shoulder to test the weight, when her door was pushed open with an almost indiscernible click and Gwendoline appeared. She pushed the door to behind her, before crossing the room towards Constance.
"Are you ready?" she asked quietly.
Constance nodded, indicating the bag strapped to her shoulder.
"Here, hold out your wrist" Gwendoline continued, drawing a small vial of potion from her pocket.
Constance did so curiously and watched as Gwendoline allowed a few drops of the liquid to fall on the silver bracelet around Constance's wrist. The potion appears suspended around the bracelet for a moment as if the entire thing was coated in a perfect ring of glass before becoming invisible. The hot burning of the bracelet was gone at once, replaced by a slightly cool sensation as the solidified potion lay in a band between the bracelet and her skin.
Constance recognised it as once "A preservation potion!"
"Yes" Gwendoline replied with a small smile "It was those hideous things that made me think of it"
She indicated the three potted toadstools which sat on a shelf at the far end of the room, a perennial reminder of that infamous tutorial with Mistress Broomhead in Constance's first year.
"Now. Have you packed the letter about your government scholarship" Gwendoline continued and seeing Constance nod again, she said in a serious tone "You are going to have to leave it behind, I'm afraid. Not somewhere too obvious though. Perhaps in a drawer or something. Hopefully then Mistress Broomhead will find it and it will be a cold trail. Buy us a bit more time"
Slightly reluctantly, Constance withdrew the appropriate handkerchief from her bag, shook it out to return it to its proper state and then placed it in her desk drawer.
"Right are we ready?" Gwendoline asked.
Constance took Morgana in her arms and watched as Gwendoline hopped up onto her desk and pushed open the window.
"I thought broomsticks would be safer" Gwendoline explained "I am not convinced she can't detect our apparition magic with these bracelets"
Constance looked past Gwendoline into the pink hued twilight, and saw their broomsticks hovering silently beside the window. Within minutes the two witches were mounted on the brooms, with Morgana sat proudly erect behind Constance. Gwendoline gently eased the window closed behind them and then they began a silent flight away from the college. Keeping level with the gap beneath Constance's window and above the windows of the floor below, they kept close into the walls of the college to avoid being seen. They made it around the perimeter of the quadrangle below and then they were at the corner of the building and into the darkening lilac blue of the night sky, before swooping low to conceal themselves in the trees below.
For a little over fifteen minutes, Constance followed Gwendoline as she darted in and out of the trees and then skimmed low over the tall crops of the cornfields, ready to dip into the safe camouflage of the golden stalks at the first sign of detection. Constance could feel the cooling evening air caressing her cheek as they flew, and for the first time in many days she felt a small swoop of hope in her chest. The crops changed to grass and then they were dipping off the edge of a cliff onto the beach. The crunch of their black booted feet on the pebbles punctuated the steady, dull roar of the waves beating against the beach where it petered out to damp, brown sand.
"This way" Gwendoline said softly, shouldering her broom and leading the way towards another stretch of cliff which jutted out into the lapping water.
Constance saw Morgana eying the damp sand warily and so kept her broom hovering beside her at waist height, her cat seated majestically on the back, as she followed. As they got nearer to the cliff, the damp sand weaved in and out off dark seaweed topped rocks in narrow paths. Gwendoline paused for a moment at the point where the cliff reached the sea, until the tide was sucked outwards and Constance could see the damp sand continuing into the cliffside into, what was presumably, a cave. Taking advantage of the tide's flow, the two witches quickly and lightly treaded across the freshly revealed sand still white kissed with sea foam. They left a trail of damp footprints, ready for the next incoming wave to erase in one smooth movement.
The cave was all darkness and damp saltiness, and it took a moment for Constance's eyes to adjust as Gwendoline lead her deeper into the cliff. The cave grew narrower as they progressed, until finally at the back the two walls met each other in a jagged point. There, in the narrowing space between the two walls, Constance could see air was shimmering and swirling slightly.
"This is it" Gwendoline said, her voice catching slightly "through that portal and you will be safe. And free. You need to be far away from here. There's someone waiting for you on the other side"
Constance looked into her friends clear, blue eyes and realised that this was goodbye. For the first time in her young life, self-contained Constance reached out and hugged her friend. She felt Gwendoline return the force of her grip for a moment before they released each other. As she drew back, Constance saw a look of pain flash across Gwendoline's face.
"Gwendoline, what is it" Constance asked and then her eye caught a dim silver glint in the darkness. She reached out and took hold of Gwendoline's hand. She could feel the heat coming from the silver bracelet and could see the skin on her friend's wrist beneath was a tight, violent shade of red that looked close to blistering.
"I didn't think to use preservation potion on mine" Gwendoline said, wincing "She knows Constance, she knows you've gone"
"How long has it been like that" Constance asked
"About half an hour" Gwendoline replied.
Constance thought of her friend, calmly flying ahead of her, leading her to safety, all the while with the hot silver searing into her wrist.
"I can't leave you" Constance said "who knows what she might do"
"No Constance, you have to go" Gwendoline cut her off with the pragmatic tone Constance was used to. Gwendoline beckoned Constance's broom which came silently forward to hover beside her. "I need you to go and be happy"
"Thank you" Constance said, with one final look over her shoulder, before she stepped forward into the waiting portal.
The shimmering air rushed around her for a moment – cold, sweet-pitched and silver, and then with one more step she was out into the night air and she felt a cool rush on her back as the portal closed behind her. Constance was standing in a forest, the sky above her interrupted by swaying boughs and the floor beneath her feet crisp with sun-dried needles.
She barely had a moment to register her surroundings before she felt a strange lurching sensation inside her. The deep, dark well of her magic she had found felt like it was bubbling and boiling. She could feel the deep magic rushing upwards towards the cap on the well. With a sudden fiercely joyous surge, her power pushed up through the cap as the connection between her magic and Mistress Broomhead's was broken. Constance's whole body tingled with the curiosity of it. Before she could stop it, her magic flared out from her in a blinding explosion of white light, like a lightning strike. There was a sickening loud crack, followed by a thud which shook the forest floor and Constance slumped to the ground.