Wicked Runaway: A Mark Cannidor Adventure

Chapter Thirteen

Edward Cannidor struggled to wake up. There was little point in getting out of bed nowadays. His only son was missing, possibly dead. His wife was in a real state as well. He didn’t know where he had ended up, but it was his fault. All his fault. Nothing could have prepared him for this horrible reality of losing Mark.

He had lost much more in his life. But his son was the most important and precious thing he had lost. Nothing hurt more than imagining young Mark Cannidor dead somewhere in the ocean. His wife, Hazel, felt exactly the same way. Since he had gone missing, the villagers of Battalion Manor grieved in their own unique ways. Some brought cakes, others just sat and talked with the Cannidors for hours. Edward had anticipated that Mark was a valued member of the community. Nicholas and Rupert, two of Marks very good friends, were grieved as well by the loss. They, too, knew what had happened, but did not understand how much of an effect this had on the Cannidors.

He shouldn’t have done it. He should not have taken Mark on his delivery. Mark should have stayed at home with his mum, attending to the farm, baking. Anything which did not involve meeting Sigourney Malcheffi.

The most feared wizard of the day.

Edward tried to sit up, but his entire body ached, almost like it was reacting to some new chemical that had entered his immune system. He was determined to get himself out of bed and search for Mark. One way or another, he had to do something. What good would it do for him to sit in bed all day?

This was his life now. He just felt so helpless.

Hazel Cannidor walked past their room with some folded linens. Noticing her husband struggling, she dropped everything in the hall and raced to help him.

‘No, love!’ Hazel exclaimed, trying to seat Edward back into bed. ‘I know you want to look for Mark. But you know what the doctor said! You must stay in bed and rest for the rest of the week. Nothing is more important than your health’.

It was true that Edward did not take the news of his son all that well. In fact, when he was knocked out on board the Lady Sinatra, he was lifted home by two of Malcheffi’s crew. Edward was asleep for weeks. Unknown to Edward, his doctor had been visiting him every day. As soon as he woke up, he found his wife discussing his condition with the doctor. His health didn’t matter all that much. All he wanted was to find his son. As soon as he heard that his son was missing, presumed dead, Edward Cannidor suffered a nasty collapse.

Since then, he had been bedbound. With no way out.

He wanted to change that.

‘I’m sorry Hazel,’ Edward cried as Hazel helped straighten his covers. ‘I just feel…so…you’re right, I am determined to find Mark and bring him home’.

‘I know you are,’ Hazel agreed. ‘I want nothing more myself. But you heard what the doctor said. You’re in bad health at the moment, and we need to bring you to full recovery before we can consider looking for him again. I’m sure he is out there somewhere. Probably looking for a way home’.

‘Tsk! I suppose you’re right. Surely, there are other things I can be doing as opposed to staying in bed all day? We have a farm to tend to, for one thing’.

‘The farm will be just fine for now,’ Hazel explained. ‘In fact, the captain sent over enough money to see us through until Christmas. I don’t know just how he was supposed to afford all that money. But he was insistent that he gave it to us. Probably a cover up if you ask me. But it would have been rude to turn that down’.

Edward agreed. Although he felt awful that the captain of that ship had to buy his way out like that.

‘Anyway, Detective Conway should be here soon. Hopefully, we’ll have an update’.

Hazel was just about to leave, but Edward grabbed her by the wrist.

‘What if he’s in…you know…’

Hazel shook her head; however, her eyes were turning black.

It meant that she was fearing the worse.

‘I should hope not,’ Hazel snapped. ‘But if he is, we’ll know about it’.

Hazel managed to escape her husband’s grasp and made to go downstairs. As she stumbled down the stairs with the linens, she realised that seeing her son in Alliva would be devastating. It would be so dangerous there, especially if the battle escalated. If Mark was there when the battle started…

No. She couldn’t think of it. It was just improbable.

Just as Hazel reached the bottom of the stairs, there was a knock on the front door.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ Hazel muttered.

As she opened the door, her worst fears had come to light.

There, stood Doctor Bramwell with Detective Conway. They must have come from the Docklands, where most of the solicitors were based. Both looked deeply disappointed when they saw sight of Hazel.

‘Now is a rather inconvenient time,’ Hazel snarled.

‘For you, perhaps,’ Detective Conway said. Both detective and doctor entered the house without permission. ‘But, for us, the timing could not be any more impeccable’.

‘For your information, gentlemen, this is trespassing’.

‘And for your information, he is a doctor, and I am a copper,’ Detective Conway snapped. ‘We have an investigation to be getting on with. Now – about you and your husband’.

‘I don’t see where that is any of your business,’ Hazel said.

‘I believe it is,’ Detective Conway continued. ‘You see, we have some details which may be of interest to you both. It concerns your son, of course. I’m guessing he is of utmost importance to you both’.

‘Well, that is…’ Hazel began, but she trailed off.

Hazel’s eyes brightened to a light brown. It was some news at the very least, but to what extent? If they had any evidence as to where Mark was, then it was probable that they could find him themselves.

‘Well, I suppose you’ll both have to come upstairs then,’ Hazel said. She dropped the linens into the kitchen, then led the two gentlemen up to the bedroom where Edward was sleeping once again. Hazel managed to wake him up. Edward was surprised to see Doctor Bramwell and Detective Conway stood opposite them. He drank some water to prepare himself for what was to come.

‘For what do we owe the pleasure?’ Edward asked as Hazel plumped up his pillows so he could sit up.

‘We believe we have some facts concerning the whereabouts of your son,’ Detective Conway revealed as Doctor Bramwell approached Edward to do a full check-up. Edward found it difficult to concentrate on two different things at once. Nonetheless, Doctor Bramwell confirmed that he was in fine shape, and Detective Conway revealed the facts known to the police so far.

‘This is a case that has gone to the Newcastle upon Tyne City Police Commissioner,’ Detective Conway said. ‘We are taking this matter very seriously’.

‘Is there no chance that the police could just remove the investigation?’ Edward asked, panicking. ‘I mean, we don’t want to overwhelm them. After all, they are busy people. I couldn’t see them go out of their way just for us’.

He also did not want their secret to be revealed.

If anyone knew they were wizards…

Detective Conway shook his head and tutted.

‘Big mistake, Mr Cannidor,’ he sighed. ‘By all means, I can put the word in. But I cannot make any guarantees. Finding a lost child takes priority’.

‘No pain, I assume?’ Doctor Bramwell asked, patting Edward’s chest for his heartbeat.

‘Oh, no, of course not,’ Edward explained. ‘Although I am still on house arrest. I can’t get out of bed’.

‘I won’t let him,’ Hazel chimed in. ‘He needs rest. He needs to relax. I won’t allow any stress to him. Do you hear me?’

‘That is normal,’ Doctor Bramwell confirmed, ignoring Hazel’s remark. ‘The last thing we want is for you to injure yourself. On the contrary, I quite agree with you, madame. However, under the circumstances…we have an investigation to continue. Your husband, I’m sure you’ll understand, will be of utmost importance to our task’.

‘Rubbish,’ Hazel snorted.

‘Please darling, allow me to support the cause at hand,’ Edward requested. Hazel decided to keep her mouth shut, instead folding her arms and studying the ceiling instead.

‘Well, it’s rather frustrating if you ask me,’ Edward continued. ‘We should be out there right this second looking for our son. We’re losing money from the farm, for goodness’ sake! What exactly are you people doing? Playing chess or something?’

‘The authorities are doing everything in their power to trace Mark down,’ Detective Conway said. ‘So far, we’ve had no success. But we have put out the largest search party we’ve got. We’re even working with the police in European territories. Again, we have had no success. But we will keep you updated, and we will do our utmost to support you both’.

‘When do you declare that he is dead?’ Hazel asked.

‘Hazel!’ Edward snapped.

‘We’re trying our best not to,’ Detective Conway responded.

‘Is that all you can say?’ Hazel asked bitterly.

‘We can assure you that we are doing everything we can,' Detective Conway continued. ‘At no stage is the safety of your son guaranteed. I can advise you that, once we hear something, you people will be the first to know’.

‘I don’t think there is much left to do, Detective,' Doctor Bramwell advised.

‘Then our work here is done’.

Hazel fell silent as Doctor Bramwell finished examining Edward.

‘Well, that’s our job done,’ Doctor Bramwell said, packing his case. ‘I suggest you stay in bed for a few more days, then we’ll get you walking about again’.

‘Thank you, Doctor Bramwell’.

‘I’ll show you both to the door,’ Hazel said uncertainly, opening the door for the doctor and the detective. Hazel led the two gentlemen down the stairs and towards the main door to the house.

‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ Detective Conway said before they left. He took a piece of paper out of his coat pocket and gave it to Hazel.

‘Don’t open this until we leave. Understood?

Hazel nodded as she closed the door behind them. She looked at the envelope, recognising the untidy blue scrawl.

E & H C.

‘How do you know?’ she stuttered.

‘How do you expect us not to know?’ the detective responded. ‘Besides, we’re specialists in wizardry. It is a natural gift. And I’m sure it’s about time you used that gift to find your son’.

Detective Conway tipped his hat off to Hazel, and the two gentlemen bade her farewell.

If this was what she thought it was...

Hazel ran up the stairs to find her husband.

‘Oh love, could you fetch me another Shakespeare play?’ Edward asked. ‘Much Ado About Nothing, perhaps? I believe I’ll need a light-hearted bit of comedy to be going on with over the next few days’.

‘That’s not important now,’ Hazel said, showing Edward the envelope. Edward took the envelope and studied the writing.

‘What is this? Edward asked.

Hazel shrugged.

Edward took that as a sign to open the envelope. Inside was a yellowed piece of parchment. There was very little writing on there. But it was obvious to Hazel and Edward what this meant.

He’s here.

‘He’s in…surely not,’ Edward said.

‘That’s clearly what the writing is saying,’ Hazel said. ‘He’s out there, Edward. He’s on his own, and we cannot be there to stop him. I feel so stupid. I knew this was going to happen as soon as he told me he was going with you’.

‘He told you?’ Edward asked, alarmed. It was his fault, and he knew it. He should have said no. He should have put his foot down that night. Mark was too young. How could he put his own son into this amount of danger? Especially with such little magical knowledge.

Then again, Hazel blamed herself, too. She should have been firm on the matter. All she wanted was for her son to be happy on his birthday. This situation made no one happy.

‘We discussed this the night before it happened,’ Hazel continued guiltily. ‘I should have been much firmer than that. It should have been a final answer. No’.

‘Ah, Haze,’ Edward sighed. ‘I’m sorry. If I had known this sort of thing was going to happen, I wouldn’t have allowed it myself. All because someone wants dark magic to win in the world we live in’.

Hazel shook her head. What use were apologies now? Apologies would never bring their son back if he was dead.

‘But how can this be?’ Edward asked, making a move to get up out of bed. Hazel fought him down once again.

‘Malcheffi must have taken him,’ Hazel suggested. ‘I know they were planning a route to Alliva’.

‘Yes, but that would mean the start of the second wizarding war!’ Edward exclaimed. ‘It doesn’t explain how we received this note!’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Had the second wizarding war in Alliva started, then all mail would be intercepted in and out of the country. Travel would be blocked both ways. Our son would be in more danger than it is worth!’

‘So how do you think Harry knows where Mark is?’ Hazel asked.

Edward couldn’t answer that question. True, he and his wife were good friends with the king and his family. They had lifted the king out of many difficult situations and were even noble enough to help build some of the laws known in the country today. But he had never met Mark before. How did he know what they looked like?

‘Ste must have said something,’ Edward suggested.

‘How can they be on the island with Mark?’ Hazel asked.

‘I just have a feeling,’ Edward speculated. ‘Those children…Mark told myself and Malcheffi about two children that were on board the ship. Those children…it finally makes sense! They were not a figment of his imagination! To him, they were real. I know Mark, and there is no way that he could dream up something as wicked as that!’

‘Two children?’ Hazel asked, amassed by what her husband was suggesting.

‘It makes sense!’ Edward exclaimed. ‘He’s been…wait…’

Edward began to stand up out of bed. Ignoring his wife’s plea to stay in bed, Edward struggled to get from A to B. He hobbled down the stairs to his study. He kept the door open in case there was an emergency. He sat down in his seat, browsed through his book collection, and pulled out from the shelf a dusty old brown book.

The Sacred Book of Spells

This is exactly what Edward Cannidor needed. It was a book he had owned for many generations, one which had been passed down from his mother. It was a useful tool for him. These were the answers he so long desired to support his son.

‘Show me,’ Edward commanded the book. The book wobbled for a moment on the table in front of him, then it opened to the contents page. Edward studied the book carefully, looking for the exact spell needed.

Health and safety…defence…here it was. Rescue.

‘Are you sure about this?’ Hazel asked as she approached Edward in his office.

‘My dear…I’ve never been more certain of anything in all my life,’ Edward replied. ‘Especially when it concerns our son. No – this must be done. His safety is more important. We have to find a way to fix this’.

Hazel watched her husband studying the book carefully. Pitifully watching him at work.

‘How is a little spell book going to solve this?’ Hazel asked, intently watching her husband flick through its pages.

‘My dear, magic is not what it used to be,’ Edward explained. ‘We cannot just conjure up spells and make things disappear. There are great risks when it comes down to magic. Severe consequences can reach you should you not make the right decisions. No – magic is a fragile art. It is not one to be messed with. Without clear instruction, things are certain to go wrong’.

‘I still don’t understand how magic is going to solve this,’ Hazel thought.

‘Not magic, my love,’ Edward said. ‘A healthy mindset’.

As Hazel studied her husband desperately looking for clues inside that book, one thing was for certain. Her husband was not fit for the job. He was too sick, he should be back home, inside his own bed, resting. Searching an old book for answers…this was not going to resolve this. This would not answer any questions. And it certainly was not going to bring their son home.

But there was one person who could. However, Hazel debated this in her head for a few solid moments. On the one hand, her husband would lead them into a difficult situation using his book of spells. There could be ample opportunity to get this right, but if it all went wrong…

On the other hand, Hazel thought of another person who might help. One of wisdom, strength, and happiness. One who was healthy minded, healthy spirited. One who did not need magic to help them out of this.

This person had a gift. A gift to see. She could unravel what could not be seen by the clear mind. She could share her insight into the future and support them in reaching the land of Alliva, where they could rescue Mark and bring him to safety. The only trouble was whether she was willing to accept the task.

Hazel continued to watch her poor husband rifle through his book. Desperately hunting for ideas. A hopeless search for a resolution.

His poor mind…he had been through so much already…

Hazel snatched the book out of her husband’s hands and slammed it shut.

‘What are you doing?’ Edward snapped.

‘I have an idea,’ Hazel said. ‘Fetch your belongings’.

***

‘What took you so long?’ Hazel hissed as her husband met her outside of the house. It was midnight, a chill gale was blowing in from the east, and Hazel had been waiting for Edward to pack some of his belongings. It had taken an awfully long time. He had been upstairs for an hour, organising and unpacking his satchel. Probably full of items that he wouldn’t actually need, Hazel guessed. Then again, he was always like that. Edward wanted to take more than required ‘just in case’. The number of expeditions they were on where he had brought enough to weight them down was simply shocking. Edward never knew how to travel light. The only problem she had was that he never listened.

‘I couldn’t decide what we needed,’ Edward responded breathlessly, opening his satchel to show her what he intended to bring on this trip. ‘I still don’t understand why we were in such a hurry to leave. If we know he’s safe where he is, why do we need to be so speedy about our exit?’

‘How do we know he’s safe? Besides, it is simple,’ Hazel said. ‘We should try to reach your mother before it’s too late’.

‘How do you suppose we do that?’

‘We’ll get the next boat to Hamburg,’ Hazel explained. ‘We’ll reach Germany by morning, hopefully catch a wizard who can fly us out to Dusseldorf’.

Edward shook his head.

‘I still think this is a mistake’.

‘Didn’t you say your mother was one of the greatest sorcerers of our age?’

It was true. Irene Matthies-Cannidor had a gift that most other witches her age didn’t have. She knew spells others didn’t, had created some of her own crafts, and was a powerful woman. No one could stand against her, not even Sigourney Malcheffi. The most remarkable thing about Irene was that she kept herself well hidden from all danger. Although she was a weird one at the best of times. Then again, the greatest sorcerers out there all had their ups and downs. Edward admired her for this. Most wizards would fight back.

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Edward agreed. ‘But I still think we should go straight to Alliva’.

‘And risk exposure to Malcheffi?’

It was true. The Cannidors had every reason to avoid Malcheffi if they could help it. Edward couldn’t help but think of that time when Mark was born. No…it was too much to bear. Just thinking about it was hurtful enough.

‘Right,’ Edward said. ‘I have the basics at the very least. Did you say the chef was coming down tomorrow to check the house?’

‘Tom will be staying here until we’re back,’ Hazel said. ‘I’m not leaving the land on its own. We have livestock to take care of. I personally don’t want to leave like this. But we have no other choice. We need to find Mark and bring him home. He is our son, after all’.

‘Okay,’ Edward said. ‘Well, this is going to be difficult. But let’s go. Before I change my mind’.

It was time. They jumped on their horses and left.

As Edward and Hazel trekked down the path leading out of Battalion Manor, they realised there was not a lot to say to each other. Which as good. They were working towards their common goal of rescuing their son. Soon, they would be a family again. Reunited after so much time apart. It would be fantastic.

Shortly after their departure, Hazel began to feel slightly ill. Having little conversation was unusual for them. They normally knew how to communicate. This time, even small talk felt rather awkward. It was as though they were running out of conversation. All of a sudden, there was little need to have at least a basic conversation with one another.

‘Is something the matter, my sweet?’ Edward asked, concerned as Hazel was rubbing her temples with one hand, the other hand grasped tightly onto the reins, her eyes closed. She looked as though she was in agony, and was starting to lose control of her horse.

‘I don’t think so,’ Hazel croaked weakly. ‘We need to stop’.

‘Why?’

Hazel didn’t answer. She abruptly halted her horse and jumped off. The horse snorted as she walked away, annoyed at the sudden halt to their journey.

‘Hazel…’

It was too late.

There was an explosion far behind them. The horses were startled, alerted, frightened by the noise from behind them.

‘Easy, lad! Easy,’ Edward said, trying to calm the horse down. ‘What on earth was that?’

Hazel looked around her for the source of the noise.

‘There couldn’t be anyone following us, could there?’ Hazel asked nervously.

‘I shouldn’t have thought so,’ Edward responded breathlessly, jumping off his horse. ‘It sounded so far away, yet it seemed so nearby’.

‘Shouldn’t have thought that…Edward, what’s that?’

It occurred to Hazel that, in the distance behind the trees, there was shining orange light in the sky beyond them.

‘Edward - is that…’ Hazel began to ask.

Edward had to squint himself to figure out exactly what was happening.

It couldn’t be…no, it just wasn’t possible…

‘It’s not…’

A moment later, in the sky, there was a shade of purple writing appearing. Each letter was written one by one. It soon became clear what had happened.

R.I.P BATTALION MANOR

‘That’s our house!’ Hazel shrieked. ‘You devils! Let me at them, I’m gonna flay them alive!’

She tried to make a run back to their home, but Edward was quick to grab hold of her. Hazel struggled in his grasp, but after several long moments, she gave in, and started sobbing in her husband’s arms.

‘It’s too dangerous!’ Edward shouted, sitting Hazel down on the muddy ground, attempting to comfort her. ‘We’ve haven’t lost yet, remember. We have more strength than they do’.

‘But how far away are they?’ Hazel asked, shaking and crying. ‘Th-they’ve cl-clearly d-d-destroyed our h-h-home! Everything so dear to us…the animals, the finances…everything is in total tatters now…’

‘I know’.

It was unfortunate that nothing else could be said apart from that. Battalion Manor was their entire life. It had been destroyed by dark wizards who were clearly looking for them. One of Malcheffi’s wizards, judging by the purple writing in the air. What were they doing here? Shouldn’t they be on course to Alliva, looking to destroy that precious country?

‘I have just had a thought,’ Edward said, trying to resolve this as soon as possible.

Hazel didn’t respond. She was in such as state of shock that she couldn’t move anywhere. It was Edward’s job to be the leader here. It was his responsibility to get them and the horses to safety.

He rustled inside his bag, looking for the book of spells.

‘What are you doing?’ Hazel croaked. What use was a book at a time like this?

‘You have to trust me on this one,’ Edward replied, opening the book to the right page. ‘Now – I need to concentrate here. Show me’.

The booked recognised Edward’s voice and opened at the exact spot Edward had in his mind.

‘I’m useless at most spells. But this is one I’ve always managed to get the hang of’.

Hazel came to her senses and saw the exact spell Edward was looking at.

‘The messaging enchantment,’ Hazel read out loud. ‘How is that supposed to help us here?’

‘It’s a rather complex spell for most people,’ Edward explained. ‘It involves writing a letter and ensuring it lands in the right place. Most people screw it up. Which is why most wizards decide to use pigeons instead. A lot of their letters ended up in water or printed in newspapers…’

Hazel shuddered at the thought of a person’s private correspondence being printed in the Times.

‘Now, Mr Lloyd is the main messenger in Alliva. He can be used infinite times by various wizards, and in some cases, he may show up more than once in the same place. They teach you this at wizarding college. If you don’t pass the exam, then you cannot be considered for working as an Oficial. Tricky business, if you ask me, but there you are’.

Hazel should have understood this. They were both Oficials for the king of Alliva and were good friends with Harry Steeple for many years. Nevertheless, she agreed with what Edward had to say. Edward took a piece of parchment from inside the book, and with a quill, began to write.

Dear Mr Lloyd,

Firstly, thank you ever so much for sending your wife’s book of poems. She is a rather talented individual. I hope she continues to write – her works will be world famous.

The reason I haven’t wrote in so long is because…

‘Just get to the point!’ Hazel snapped.

‘Oh, yes. Sorry, dear’.

…it’s been busy on the farm. We’re in a pickle here, though. Mark was kidn*pped by Sigourney Malcheffi, and he managed to escape. We think he may have ended up in Alliva, and with the current turn of events, Malcheffi will arrive in the country, meaning a nasty war will start. I was hoping you could find Mark and take him to safety. Please don’t respond to this letter. We are travelling and will not return home as our home has been destroyed. Oh – and if you do find Mark, tell him we love him.

Regards,

E. and H. C.

‘That should do it,’ Edward said, taking his wand out of his pocket. He had to concentrate with all his might. If the letter ended in the wrong place…

No, don’t think about that. Just send the damned letter.

A blue flame emitted from Edward’s wand. The letter burnt up and disappeared. Edward stepped back, sighing with relief.

‘I hope this works,’ Edward said. ‘Now, let us get to Germany so we can find Irene’.