Wicked Runaway: A Mark Cannidor Adventure

Chapter Fifteen

‘Are you sure?’

‘I went upstairs to pack, and I saw that it had left it’s dock,’ Mark explained. ‘I swear to you – I’m not making this up. Quinte has taken the ship’.

This was a stressful predicament for Elizabeth. She closed her eyes, focussing on the correct outcome they needed to achieve.

She knew exactly what was about to happen.

‘We need to leave,’ Elizabeth snapped. ‘Now’.

At that moment, there was a knock on the glass door.

This couldn’t be happening.

‘We’re closed, Elizabeth said through the door, trying to hide herself and urging the children to follow her.

‘Actually, this is about Mark Cannidor,’ the person outside shouted through the wood. It sounded like a man with a husky voice, and it seemed rather urgent.

All eyes turned towards Mark. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to know. There was just know way he could answer that door. However, Elizabeth was nodding her head towards the door. Mark just looked to the ground, hoping everyone would go away.

‘Answer the door!’ Elizabeth hissed.

He had no choice. Mark slowly approached the door, being careful not to make eye contact with anyone. He opened the door. The man stood before him wore a navy-blue hat and a black robe. He looked like an official sort. He held an envelope in his hand and seemed quite nervous.

‘I’m…ahem…here to deliver a telegram to Mr Mark Edward Cannidor’.

‘Well, that’s me,’ Mark declared. ‘Who are you?’

‘Ah…my apologies,’ the man said. ‘I’m Mr Francis Lloyd. I’m a telegram distributor. Basically, we receive letters for the people of Alliva from clients all over the world. For example, I once had the unfortunate duty of delivering a debt collection letter to a family in Salvador. Nasty business. The family tried to kill me. Never punish a distributor for all it’s worth. Punishable offence, if you ask me. We’re only the middle man’.

‘Can you just get on with it, please?’ Elizabeth snapped, removing herself from her hiding spot to assist with the query.

‘Fine,’ Mr Lloyd replied nervously. He handed the envelope to Mark. He opened the envelope and saw to his distaste the fateful letter his parents had scribed to him. Their writing, or rather, his father’s writing, was real. It was staring up at him. And it was quite obvious that they were alive. Somewhere. He read the letter with a heavy heart. The danger his parents were in…

‘I, of course, am not aware of the words your parents wrote,’ Mr Lloyd said. ‘But I can see that you are deeply saddened. My condolences’.

‘They…they could be anywhere…’ Mark stuttered.

Elizabeth approached Mark to offer some comfort.

‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart,’ Elizabeth whispered. ‘I know this is all upsetting for you…’

‘That’s not it!’ Mark snapped, stepping away from Elizabeth’s strong motherly grasp over him. ‘I need vengeance. I need security for everyone around me! This is all my fault. I’m so angry I just want to…I don’t know…I don’t know what I want to do right now’.

‘No one is blaming you, mate,’ Jeremiah assured Mark. ‘Don’t think you need to do anything different’.

‘Why not?’ Mark continued, turning on Jeremiah. ‘My parents could be dead by now. Why should I sit back and pretend to feel sorry for myself when there is a criminal out there? WHY? Why do the bad ones always win? Why can’t defeat the enemy for once?’

No one answered. Instead, every person in the room studied him as if he were an animal in pain at a zoo. It was clear that no one had the right answer for him. In fact, as Mark asked himself these questions, it remained rather uncertain as to what the answers should be.

A pointless task.

‘I think we are all best to follow the instructions as per the letter,’ Mr Lloyd explained, breaking the unforgivable silence. ‘Of course, should you wish to try contacting your parents, wherever they may be…’

‘That will do, Francis,’ Elizabeth said, showing him the door.

‘Well, actually,’ Mr Lloyd replied. ‘I cannot leave without a sufficient…’

‘Run a brush through your hair,’ Elizabeth snarled, noticing the untidy frizz of Mr Lloyds ponytail. ‘There’s your tip. Now leave’.

But Mr Lloyd did not have a chance to leave by command. As Mr Lloyd was a delivery service, they would not see him unless someone had an important message to deliver to them. Except on this occasion, something prevented him from leaving.

There was an explosion from outside. A deafening clanging on metal containers and shouting erupted from the outside world.

‘He’s coming!’ a man shouted excitedly. ‘Malcheffi! He’s finally coming!’

‘Oh crap!’ Jeremiah exclaimed. Panic rose in Mark’s chest. This was it. He was going to die.

‘Quick, children. Down to the basement’.

‘I should go,’ Mr Lloyd said, calmly despite the commotion from outside.

‘Oh no you’re not!’ Elizabeth snarled, grabbing him by the collar. ‘I’m not letting you leave at a time like this. Mark? Mark!’

For Mark had opened the back door.

There was mist everywhere. An orange mist which clearly came from the wands of wizards making a scene outside. Screams came from everywhere. Innocent women were being forced out of buildings, children were crying, and some wardens were already bleeding heavily and were in pain.

He was surrounded by war.

‘Don’t!’ Elizabeth shouted, slamming the door closed. ‘Downstairs. Now!’

Mark had no choice. He was escorted below the building to a basement where he met Sophie and Jeremiah, both of whom were shaking with dreaded fear. The basement, which contained barrels of beer and boxes of ingredients, was an ugly mess. There were rats, of course, but there was also a damp chill in the air.

This is not the place to be at a time like this, Mark thought to himself.

If only he knew how to use magic to defend himself…

‘Are you sure we’re going to be safe down here,’ Mr Lloyd asked, confused, scratching his head.

‘This is the only way,’ Elizabeth explained. ‘I don’t believe for one moment that this place has been intercepted. Tom made sure of that. Of course, any spell can be broken. The most powerful wizards can detect all sorts of enchantments. Unfortunately, these places are most vulnerable to dark magic’.

‘So, why are we down here?’ Jeremiah asked.

‘We have no other choice,’ Elizabeth continued. ‘This is the place which will lead us to our safety. Now, from what I remember…’

Elizabeth trailed off, concentrating with all her might to find the right spot. Mark couldn’t determine what Elizabeth was trying to achieve. He wanted to ask, but then again that would not solve anything.

‘I swear it’s here somewhere,’ Elizabeth muttered. ‘Francis, can you remember…’

Francis was on the floor, a piece of yellowed parchment in front of him. He was writing what looked like a letter.

‘Francis!’ Elizabeth snapped.

Francis looked up in surprise.

‘Oh, sorry,’ Francis responded. ‘I was just trying to send a communication to my wife. She’ll be wondering why I haven’t returned’.

‘This is no time for love letters!’ Elizabeth shouted stressfully, marching over to him and ripping paper and quill out of his hands. ‘We need to find a way out of here’.

‘Of course,’ Mr Lloyd said glumly. ‘Sorry’.

‘Wait!’ Jeremiah shouted. ‘I have an idea’.

Jeremiah took out his wand. A light blue stick, with silver handwriting on the side depicting his full name.

Jeremiah Clark Stimpton

Did every wizard have a wand like that?

‘No, Jay!’ Elizabeth snapped, ripping the wand out of Jeremiah’s hand. ‘This is not the answer’.

‘Why not?’ Jeremiah asked. ‘A little bit of magic to help us out of here can’t hurt. Surely?’

Elizabeth shook her head.

‘Sometimes magic can do more harm than good,’ Sophie explained. ‘If we use the wrong spell against an enchantment, then we could all be killed’.

‘Exactly,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Remember – magic can only be used sparingly. It might be our gift, but it should not be used without good reason or by the wrong person. This could be incredibly dangerous’.

‘Fine,’ Jeremiah mumbled, stuffing the wand back into his pocket.

‘That is what I do not understand about magic,’ Mr Lloyd said. ‘Why have a precious tool which we cannot use?’

But there was no time to explain. Finally, Elizabeth had managed to find what she was looking for. She pulled what looked like a pipe outside of its socket, then without warning, the brick wall in front of them collapsed. Elizabeth dragged the children and Mr Lloyd back so that they were not hit. When all the dust from the rubble had cleared up, it was revealed that a tunnel was leading in front of them.

‘Now you can use magic,’ Elizabeth said, pointing to Jeremiah.

‘What’s the point in…’ Jeremiah started.

‘Clean this mess up!’

Jeremiah tutted. He took his wand out of his pocket.

‘Cleario!’ Jeremiah shouted.

Jeremiah was amazing at magic, Mark thought. He had managed to stack all the bricks neatly in a pile on the far side of the basement. If only he was as talented as that. It just proved to Mark that he wanted to learn more about magic. Maybe use it for the greater good.

‘Well done,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Now, this will take us to where we need to be’.

‘A tunnel?’ Sophie asked.

‘No time for questions,’ Elizabeth said.

They started walking. There was hardly and light, save from the dying light from the candles along the corridor. Mark had no idea where they were being taken. Elizabeth had refused to answer any of their questions. It was pointless, really. They could be walking for hours, below the war scenes that were breaking out in the world of Alliva that lay above them. Surely, there were better things to do than this?

‘We’ll be there shortly,’ Elizabeth reassured Mark. ‘We just need to get there safely before we can do anything else’.

Alliva must have been a big city, Mark thought. They went down all sorts of twists and turns. What Mark also noted was that they were not the only people down below. Business owners and families had taken refuge down below, escaping the battle above. Some recognised Elizabeth, as they said hello in passing. Others were in such desperation they tried to ask for help.

But they were in a rush.

‘Don’t make eye contact,’ Elizabeth instructed the children, as a toothless old man pleaded for mercy and a little bit of money to see him through.

‘How far away are we from this place?’ Jeremiah asked irritably. ‘I’m thirsty’.

‘Do not ask questions!’ Elizabeth asked. ‘You will have to wait. Besides – we should be there by now’.

Elizabeth stopped. The children stopped suddenly as well.

‘What on earth is happening now?’

They had come to a dead end. There was nowhere else to turn to.

‘We’re trapped!’ Elizabeth snapped. ‘I knew it! We should have taken a turn sooner!’

‘No, we’re not trapped,’ Mark said. He had realised that he had the map still in his pocket. He took this out and unfurled it. But Sophie was quick to stop him.

‘That won’t do,’ Sophie said. ‘Maps don’t work underground’.

‘Oh, I see,’ Mark mumbled uncertainly, stuffing the map gingerly inside his pocket.

‘Hang on a second,’ Jeremiah interrupted. He placed a finger on his lips, motioning for the others to remain quiet whilst studying his surroundings. Nobody moved nor made a sound. Mark tried to remain calm, but it was difficult for him to manage. He was nervous as to what Jeremiah was trying to achieve. Elizabeth dared not to speak. Her eyes bounced between each of the children. Terrified. Afraid. Uncertain.

‘I’ve just had a thought,’ Jeremiah said after several painful moments of silence. Then he began to study the wall in front of them.

‘Can you please tell us what is going on?’ Sophie asked, tears glinting in her eyes. ‘I’m scared! And I need to use a toilet!’

‘We’ll be there soon, love,’ Elizabeth said comfortingly.

‘This corridor,’ Jeremiah continued. ‘Don’t you realise what this is?’

Sophie, Mark and Elizabeth shook their heads.

‘It’s the opposite end of Gold!’ Jeremiah shrieked excitedly. ‘We’re on the outskirts of the city’.

‘How can you be so sure?’ Elizabeth asked tensely.

‘Don’t you get it?’ Jeremiah asked. ‘We’ve been walking for miles beneath the city. Gold is a huge place. It has to end somewhere’.

Elizabeth studied the wall. It made no sense. How could this be the edge of Gold?

‘Listen, love,’ Elizabeth said. ‘You’re tired, I get that. We all are. We’ve been walking for miles. But you must be losing your marbles. If you think for one second…’

Sophie and Mark stepped back.

‘What was that?’ Mark gasped, pointing towards the wall.

‘Well, you’ve done it now!’ Elizabeth snapped. ‘Now we’re all in the loophole!’

‘No, wait!’ Jeremiah exclaimed, holding his finger up to his lips once more. ‘Listen! Do you hear that?’

Elizabeth decided to back down. She neared the wall to listen intently. What happened next was enough to stun everybody.

There was an Italian man behind the wall.