Wicked Runaway: A Mark Cannidor Adventure

Chapter Nine (Part One)

He was heading towards a door. A white door within a clearing of a forest where, behind the hinges, shone a bright white light. He wanted to stop in his tracks and turn back. There was little need for him to be here, after all. But there was a voice. A voice behind the door. He couldn’t make out what the voice was saying – it was a muffled echo, a deep voice luring him nearer and nearer. Someone behind the door was trying to catch his attention. Someone behind the door wanted him to come closer. Closer. Closer. Closer…

His hand reached out for the brass doorknob. He had no control over himself. His hand touched the doorknob. It burned his hand at the touch. Yet he couldn’t let go. As much as he tried to release himself, he couldn’t do it. He was stuck. And there was no turning back.

He was trapped.

It’s not too late, he told himself.

Open the door, he heard a voice whisper to him. Open it now. You’ll soon see what magic lies within you.

No, Mark told himself. He wanted to hide from the truth. He wanted to run away. He wanted to hide away from whatever was behind that door. He feared more than anything else about the truth. The truth about himself. Clearly, whatever was behind the door wasn’t true.

Or maybe it was.

Just do this, the voice told him. You never know…you may well be pleasantly surprised…

Okay, then…

He opened the door. Slowly. Just slowly. Reluctantly…

There was no turning back.

And there he was. He pointed his wand towards the man inside the doorway. A frail, vulnerable old man, a man with little power to fight back. He had long hair and a long beard, wore a blood red coat with black attire underneath. Mark instantly recognised the figure but knew immediately that he had lost the battle. He was out of breath and losing every little hope he had of survival. A man once so greatly feared and mighty was now so weak.

So fragile…

And so powerless…

‘Final call for breakfast!’

Mark bolted upright. Panting. It was dark with the curtains drawn over the windows, blocking sunlight from entering the room. Mark searched his surroundings. He was alone. He remembered his friend Jeremiah had slept in the same room the night before. There was another bed opposite him. But it was empty. Or was it? He did not want to draw too much attention to himself, so decided not to ask if Jeremiah was still there in case he was still asleep. Mark couldn’t see very well in the dark. He tried to move his body, but his legs felt stiff from the previous day’s journey, like logs of wood that had been embalmed. His entire body ached from exhaustion, almost like a medicine had numbed every bone and muscle. It took a lot of effort for him to wake up. It didn’t help that he had no idea as to where he was.

He had woken up in a new place.

Mark painfully managed to fight his way out of bed and towards the window. He opened the curtains, and there it was. The bustling sea front, shoppers browsing through market stalls, workers unloading and loading boxes onto ships and carriages, and officers checking in new arrivals.

This was Alliva.

The port capital of Gold-by-the-sea.

The outside world looked exactly as it should at this time of the morning. Only the fact that this was an unfamiliar territory. Mark wanted nothing more than to be back at his home in England. It was where he belonged, with his family, friends, and the surroundings he loved. Yet, this was his life. For now. It was his mission to work with the crew of the Sellina in whatever they intended to do, then fight his way to return home.

But a thought struck him in an instant. What if he could never find his parents? What if they were dead? Or missing? Or maybe they didn’t even exist? Knowing everything he had learned about his life over the past few days, perhaps they were just a figment of his imagination? Mark figured either Captain McGough or Elizabeth might know where they might be. After all, weren’t they close to the Cannidors? At least, that was the impression that Mark given, after everything Captain McGough told him about his parents.

Yet, wasn’t it Captain McGough who tried to ship him elsewhere as soon as they arrived in Alliva? Mark wasn’t sure exactly what grudges the captain held against him, but he debated with himself whether to trust Captain McGough. Or not. At least Elizabeth was honest with him, that was for certain. He rather admired Elizabeth. She was caring, friendly, gentle…just like his mother was. Elizabeth seemed to have the children’s best interests at heart. And that made Mark feel comfortable.

Putting all these thoughts to the back of his mind, Mark decided to head downstairs for some breakfast.

Mark figured that, since he was here, he might as well make the most of it. After all, an adventure like Mark Cannidors did not happen every day.

He asked several different people for directions on his way down to the parlour where the food was served. One person he asked was polite, whereas another person reading that day’s newspaper while walking simply grunted and pointed in the wrong direction. Mark had never received that horrible attitude from another person before. At least, not anywhere away from the Lady Sinatra. He couldn’t remember seeing a parlour the night before. In fact, he was so frustrated with Captain McGough that he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings when they arrived. Yet here it was. Tables laden with silverware, plates, napkins, salt and pepper shakers, and menus. The seats, booths and tables were a solid brown colour, the floors covered with green carpets and various stains which made him feel sick. He noticed the bar, where a bald, elderly stood, bored out of his misery, waiting to serve his next customer. He studied the place, not in admiration, but looking for an empty seat.

And then he noticed Elizabeth, chatting happily to Sophie. Mark was relieved to see a familiar face. Feeling much more comfortable now, Mark approached the bar, ready to order the largest fry-up imaginable.

‘Sorry, mate, breakfast’s finished,’ the barman grunted miserably, remarkably not at all apologetically, polishing a brass tankard.

Mark scowled in response. It was unfortunate that he now had to go and entire morning without food...

‘Oi!’ a voice shouted, and there was the loudest sound of a glass bottle being smashed into a million pieces on the table.

It was Elizabeth, standing up and rising to Mark’s defence.

‘You gonna let a growing boy starve?’ Elizabeth growled. Mark noticed her fangs gleaming white under the bright sunlight shining through the windows. This was an odd encounter. He didn’t believe that any vampire’s teeth could glisten like that. Nonetheless, Mark looked back at the barman, who started shivering in horror. Elizabeth MacDougal was certainly not a person to be messed with.

‘It’s well past…’ the barman croaked.

‘Serve him breakfast. NOW!’

‘Full English coming right up, mate’.

Mark could have laughed at that point but decided it might not be appropriate. Elizabeth had made herself quite clear. As the barman muttered under his breath about entitled know-it-all’s, he joined Elizabeth and Sophie at the table, smiling gleefully.

‘Slept in, did we?’ Elizabeth asked, sipping a cup of coffee, and observing him over the top of her cup.

Mark chuckled. ‘I guess it was an accident,’ he replied.

‘Well, don’t let it happen again,’ Elizabeth continued. ‘Captain McGough doesn’t bode well with tardiness. Then again – he doesn’t set too much in store for organisation himself if you follow my drift’.

Yeah right, thought Mark. Last night, the captain tried to ship him off to a factory on the other side of the island. If communication didn’t help the captain, then what would?

‘How did you sleep, Mark?’ Sophie asked merrily.

‘I suppose I slept okay,’ Mark mumbled, once again dreaming about his own bed back at Battalion Manor. If he had woken up back home, he would be getting ready for a full day on the farm. This morning, it was the unpredictable which scared him. He wasn’t certain what the day was going to bring.

The barman brought Mark’s fry-up and slammed it onto the table angrily. Elizabeth hissed at him to go away and leave him alone. Suddenly, Mark felt too sick to eat. There seemed to be a horrendous feeling at the pit of his stomach. As he stared down at his plate of bread and jam, he gave himself some time to deliberate exactly what was bothering him. After all the reassurance he had from Elizabeth and Jeremiah last night, things still felt uncomfortable. And then he realised what it was.

It was homesickness. Right now, he was out of his usual routine, one he had been so accustomed to for many years. Perhaps it was just a fear of the unexpected, but Mark had to admit to himself that he felt rather uncomfortable. He would be looking forward to a day out on the farm by now. After a day of work, he would escape into the local forest areas, taking in ideas for his novel, exploring the world around him, and getting some fresh air. Now that had all been taken away, he simply did not know where to begin.

‘You look like you need a good feast, young man’ Elizabeth said. ‘Eat’.

Under orders from the vampire, Mark picked on a slice of his bread. Honestly, it tasted good. And he was thankful to have a good meal like this. Except there was still one thing bothering Mark.

‘Why does Captain McGough hate me?’ Mark asked without thinking.

‘Excuse me?’ Elizabeth asked, astonished.

Mark cleared his throat before continuing.

‘It’s just…yesterday, when we arrived, he tried to ship me over to a factory on the other side of the country,’ Mark explained. ‘He said now that I was here, I can go. I just…I don’t think he wants me here. He just wanted to get rid of me the first chance he got’.

Elizabeth shook her head in disappointment.

‘You wait until I get your hands on your father,’ Elizabeth said to Sophie. Mark nearly choked on a fried mushroom.

‘Wait – you’re a family?’ Mark asked, astounded. He knew Ste and Elizabeth were married, but he never guessed that Sophie and Jeremiah were their children.

‘Of course, we are,’ Elizabeth confirmed. ‘Well, not by blood, as you can understand. But we’ve formed a family in our own right. Sophie is around the same age as you. So many people still ask if we are seriously related, so there you go. I suppose we’ve formed as good a relationship as any family could do'.

‘Jeremiah and I are almost like twins,' Sophie sighed.

‘Are you a vampire too, Sophie?’ Mark asked.

‘I wish I was,’ Sophie replied listlessly. ‘Unfortunately, that talent hasn’t been passed over to me’.

Elizabeth shrugged.

‘What else is one to do?’ she sighed. ‘Of course, it’s like I explained to you yesterday. I won’t bite any old person just for the sake of blood. Just those who have done me wrong. For example, my sister’.

Mark shook his head.

‘Don’t worry, I haven’t told too many people,’ Elizabeth continued, noticing the confusion in Mark’s face. ‘However, she annoyed me so much. I drew the line when she stopped me from marrying Ste. It was worth a night in prison. Fortunately, the authorities saw it as a natural cause. So, they let me go. That was that'.

‘Captain McGough has something against me,’ Mark said. ‘He told me yesterday that my services were no longer required. What was the point in him bringing me here if I’m useless?’

‘Rubbish,’ Sophie said. ‘You’re not useless. He’s told me all about your parents, and how they were close during their years at university. No, he doesn’t have a grudge against you. He wants to protect you’.

‘By sending me to work in a factory?’ Mark asked. ‘I’ll be in more danger working with machines than staring the enemy in the face! I don’t even have to fight. All I want to do is to get back home so I can be with my parents. Is that too much to ask?’

Elizabeth shrugged again.

‘That’s enough. I’ll have words with him,’ she said, standing up. ‘We’re exploring some of the city today. You want to come along?’

Mark was thankful that someone wanted to spend time with him. So, he took Elizabeth up on her offer.

Half an hour later, washed and dressed in some clean clothes, they were joined by Jeremiah, who was reading the days newspaper out by the docks. Alas, they were ready to leave.

They spent hours wandering the city that morning. There were shops selling gold, clothes, fans, food, fabrics, and books. Mark thought he saw a cauldron shop at one point, except it actually sold teapots. Other stores sold imports from Japan, America, and Australia. Mark had never seen anything like it back in England. He felt that this place was certainly multi-cultural.

There was also a bank, which funnily enough he found out from Elizabeth that his parents held an emergency sum of money. After conducting some security checks, the bank manager came with a nice surprise for Mark.

‘300 Hules,’ the bank manager told him. ‘Equates to around £27 in your money. But due to the inflation rate, this amount will see you until the end of the summer. Happy spending’.

‘I can’t believe my luck!’ Mark exclaimed as they left the National Bank of Alliva (or the NBA, as one sign read). Then again, there was the question of how his parents could afford such a sum of money. And, indeed, how they knew to leave such an amount to him at all.

‘They were wealthy people once upon a time,’ Elizabeth explained merrily. ‘Very well admired, too. I remember enjoying so many good times with the Cannidors. It all changed when you were…’

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks.

‘What’s wrong?’ Sophie asked.

‘Oh…nothing,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t...let’s go for lunch…’

It had indeed reached lunchtime and they were looking for a café when they spotted a familiar face.

‘Ste!’ Elizabeth shouted, outside of a shop called Burgess’, which sold some sort of wood. Captain McGough turned, and was horrified at the sight of his wife, Sophie and Mark in the same eye shot.

‘Is there anything you would like to tell me?’ Elizabeth asked.

Captain McGough cleared his throat nervously.

‘Umm…well, about what, my dear?’ he asked, stuttering.

Elizabeth slapped him across the face.

‘Don’t try to fool me,’ Elizabeth yelled. ‘You know fine well about what!’

Captain McGough managed to put two and two together, and his eyes rounded onto Mark with fury. Then, he rounded towards his wife again.

‘Listen, my dear, I was worried’.

‘Oh?’ Elizabeth responded. ‘This should be interesting. What were you worried about?’

Captain McGough didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed a finger to his lips. Mark was curious at this reaction. It was like he was asking all three of them to be quiet.

‘I…think we should return to the parlour,’ Captain McGough suggested quietly. ‘Now. It will allow us to talk in private’.

Mark noticed Elizabeth shrug in agreement, and together they walked back to the Twelve Green Bottles. It was a quiet walk, despite the hustle and bustle of families out for a day of retail therapy. They even walked past a drunken man picking a fight with a young barmaid outside a pub called Stroke of Midnight. What a weird name for a pub, thought Mark. The again, it was probably an accurate name for a pub as well. The pub had a clock outside which was stuck on the hour of twelve.

They reached the Twelve Green Bottles moments later, where inside there was a quiet booth at the back, behind the bar, away from earshot.

‘Same as usual, Ste?’ chimed the barman, a little more enthusiastically this time, as they sat down.

‘No thanks, mate,’ Captain McGough answered nervously and with a dry throat. ‘Just dealing with some business for now’.

The barman nodded and returned to his work. Mark, Sophie, Elizabeth, and Captain McGough all piled into a booth.

‘Well?’ Elizabeth whispered sharply. ‘What are you playing at?’

Captain McGough took a deep breath before he begun to explain.

‘I’ll admit it. I was going to send Mark to do some work for a factory on the other side of the island,’ Captain McGough explained. ‘As soon as he met King Harry, I knew it was a mistake bringing him here. We should have sent him back to England the first chance we got. But it’s a dangerous time to travel at the moment. Especially with Malcheffi out at sea. I wasn’t prepared to take that risk in case we were intercepted. So, there you have it. I was going to send him into hiding’.

Mark wasn’t receiving any acknowledgement at all. He felt that he didn’t exist. Captain McGough didn’t acknowledge his existence. He just talked about him as though he was part of the furniture.

‘What use is that going to do?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘You know we had to do something to protect him!’

‘The boy is in danger out here!’ Captain McGough snapped.

‘He’s in no more danger here than he was whilst he was out at sea’.

‘At least when he was out at sea…’

‘I am still here, you know,’ Mark interjected. ‘If it makes you feel any better, I can just leave, and you won’t have to worry about me ever again!’

‘That won’t be necessary, sweetheart,’ Elizabeth said.

Captain McGough smiled at Mark, almost as if a client had just walked into the room at an awkward time.

‘Listen, Mark, I had my reasons to send you off to that factory,’ Captain McGough continued. ‘If Captain Malcheffi…’

‘I’ve told you about this already - I know him!’ Mark shouted, slamming his hands on the table. Heads started to turn from throughout the parlour. Elizabeth reached over to cover his mouth whilst Captain McGough ushered him to be quiet. ‘I was the one who was kidn*pped by him! I was the one who had to run away from him. I know exactly who he is and what he is!’

‘Don’t make a huge scene, mate,’ Captain McGough whispered urgently. ‘If anyone who works for him found out we were here…well, I dread to think what would happen. Anyway, you don’t know him know him. You have no idea what he is capable of. He is lethal, and he is not one to cross’.

‘I don’t understand, though,’ Mark said. ‘What is the big deal with Captain Malcheffi? I was on board that ship for weeks before I left. I’m sure he has better things to think about than chasing after a thirteen-year-old kid like me. If he really wanted to see me dead, why could he not have just finished me off while I was still on board his ship?’

Captain McGough took a deep breath, almost as if he was about to go on stage.

‘It’s not as simple as that,’ Captain McGough continued. ‘Sigourney Malcheffi is a dark wizard. The darkest wizard there is. If anyone puts him wrong, then they pay a horrible price’.

‘I didn’t do anything to upset him, though,’ Mark declared. ‘Any grudge he has against me is more his problem. Not mine’.

‘You ran away from him,’ Captain McGough said.

‘So?’

‘Yes, and sadly, that is an awful price to pay when Malcheffi is involved,’ Elizabeth explained sharply. ‘Unfortunately, you are the victim in this. He should not have kidn*pped you the way he did. From what you’ve told us, it was all a misunderstanding. However, he will chase after you, and he will want to kill you. In any case, if he steps foot in Alliva, then the entire country is in danger. Believe what you will, but he wants followers, and he can play this island however he likes’.

Marks jaw dropped. He sat there covering his mouth with his hand. He was on board the Sinatra for weeks. Captain Malcheffi and his crew knew he had escaped from the Lady Sinatra. So, if they knew all those things had been happening whilst he was on board, why did they not take any action then? Now, even. Surely, they would be here. They would have arrived on the island and found him by now.

Mark was a dead man walking.

It occurred to Mark exactly what game Malcheffi was playing.