Fantom chapter 5, part 2.

   Patrick stood up. “Don’t hurt her,” he protested.
  “Shut up,” the adjudicator said, brushing him off.
   Ruth tried to face her with as much courage as she could muster, but she was still woozy from her fall and felt weak and afraid.
   “So you think you have a choice?” the adjudicator said.  “I think you’ve been living in a world of fiction for too long.  But why should you put yourself through this?  Your little friend there was much more reasonable.  Perhaps with a little incentive-”
    “You think you can bribe me?” Ruth said in a small voice.  
    “Your friend was willing to help, after he was shown the benefits,” she said.  “It didn't take much, not more than the hint of a threat and the promise of a patter part.  Which role have you dreamed of playing?  Phoebe? Phyllis? Patience?”
   Ruth looked at her, her courage as low as her heart.  “I’m not good enough,” she said.  “And I know it.  I know the parts I’d like to do, but I know as well that most amateurs are better than me, let alone professionals.  I’d just be embarrassed and ashamed.  I want to play great parts, but I know it’s not me.  You can’t tempt me that way.”
   The woman looked at her angrily.  “Stupid girl,” she said.  “If you won’t help me of your free will I’ll force you.  This is your last chance to do yourself a favour.”
   The fantom was beside Ruth now.  She looked up into the holes that were its’ eyes, and knew she didn’t have the strength to resist.  Whatever she might wish, she was not as brave as her story character.  She couldn’t do it.
   But she made a last attempt, tearing her eyes away from the glistening, stony creature.
   “I can’t do it,” she said.  “I...the two of us can’t sing all the parts, and even if we could, I can’t sight read  well enough to sing them.”
   “You can do enough of it for my purposes.  And you don’t need to sight read,” the adjudicator said.  “You know it.”
   “Not every part,” Ruth protested.  The fantom was almost touching her.  “I never learnt all the soprano parts.  And I can’t reach all the notes- I’m an alto.”
   “You’re a mezzo-soprano,” the woman replied brusquely.  “Don’t try any more excuses.  You can do it and you will- or suffer inconcievable agonies.”
   She nodded to the fantom.  Its’ huge, hard hands reached down towards Ruth’s already injured leg.  She cowered back and tried to move but felt the wall behind her.  She heard her voice crying out “no, no!” as the fantom picked up her injured ankle.
   “You said you wouldn’t hurt her!  You promised!”  Patrick shouted.  The adjudicator smiled.
   “I lied.”  She raised the baton.  “Time to twist,” she said.
   “I’ll do it,” Ruth sobbed.  “I’ll do it.”
   “That’s more like it.”  The adjudicator lowered the baton and strode over to Ruth.  “You’ll do as I tell you?  Sing for me?”  
   “Yes,” Ruth sobbed.  
   “Good.”  She waved to the fantom to let go of Ruth’s foot.  It did so suddenly, and Ruth cried out as it hit the floor.  The woman laughed.  “Be ready in an hour,” she said.  “You’d better start warming up if you’re going to reach those high notes.  I don’t want any cracks.”  She swept out of the room, the fantom following obediently.
   Ruth buried her head in her arms and wept.  Not just from the pain, but the shame.  The fantom had not actually hurt her very much.  But the moment it’s strong, stony hands had touched her her imagination had gone into overdrive, picturing skin and muscles torn apart, bones grinding and cracking under the monster’s hands.  That had been what had made her give in.  
   It had all been pretty pointless, really.  If she was going to be forced into creating a new one, she hadn’t achieved anything by destroying the fantom in her fall from the castle.  She had just got herself injured for nothing.  Oh, her feint had allowed the others to escape and- she hoped- warn the authorities, but would anyone believe them?  And if the adjudicator was bringing her plan forward as Patrick had said would there be time to stop her?  
   She wondered if there was any chance the others would be able to rescue her.  Then she laughed bitterly at the thought.  She was thinking like her story-characters again.  No one was coming to rescue her.  How could they even know where she was?  She didn’t know herself.  And even if they did, what could her friends do?  It would be mad for them to try.  
   And what would happen when the adjudicator found out that Tom had lied to her?  Ruth knew that if she was asked she would give away the real location of the TTC.  She was ashamed of her weakness, but could not help it.  There was nothing she could do now, except obey.
  She sat up.  Patrick came over as she tried to stand, and tried to help her.  She tried to put weight on her injured ankle, and sat down quickly, stifling a cry of pain.  There was no way she could walk.  

  Patrick sat down beside her and Ruth looked at him out of the corner of her eye.  That woman had lied to him.  Now he must be thinking what else she might have lied about.  He would be afraid what might happen to him, what other promises she might not keep.  Perhaps he was thinking that what he had done had also been all for nothing.  Yet Ruth was glad of his company, silent and melancholy though it was. She shivered.  Patrick reached out to take her hand, and looking down saw the bruises and red marks on her wrists.  “Is...is that from where I...”

 “Yes,” she said.  He let go her hand, and turned away, ashamed.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

 She reached out and laid her hand on his.  “It’s ok,” she said.  She could not yet forget that he had let her down, had not lived up to who she had hoped he was.  But she couldn’t blame him for being afraid.  And she desperately wanted not to be alone.

The story continues...

Fantom chapter 5, part 1

5. When hope is gone.

   Ruth opened her eyes, her head throbbing.  She was lying on a dirty rug on the hard wooden floor of a small upstairs room.  It was dark, only a dim light filtering in through a small, high window.  She guessed that it was either evening or early morning.  Her left ankle was agony as soon as she tried to move it and she almost lost consciousness again.  She tried to sit up but as soon as she moved she felt sick and the pain became unbearable, so she lay still.

   She closed her eyes and tried to remember what had happened.  She had destroyed the fantom- but she had fallen from the castle walls.  And- well, judging by her surrounding she was still in the hands of the enemy.  Maybe the others had escaped, but they had not got help quickly enough to save her.

   The darkness that had come over her was receding, although she rather wished it wasn’t.  On the other side of the door she heard footsteps and Patrick’s voice, seemingly continuing an ongoing conversation with the adjudicator.  

   “...but you said you wouldn’t hurt her!”

   “The deal was that we wouldn’t kill her.  And we won’t, unless she does something stupid again.  Of course, if you’d rather we killed you instead...”
   “But you promised...”

   “Shut up and stop whining.  Go and see if that fool of a girl is still alive.”

   There was the sound of a door slamming.  Ruth tried to make sense of what she had heard but her head was still woozy and she found it hard to concentrate.  The door opened and Patrick peered in, gingerly looking to see if she was awake.  When he saw that she was he hesitated, but then came towards her and sat down next to her.

   “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

    Ruth said nothing.  Her head was starting to clear and she remembered his part in events.
   “Is there anything I can do?” he asked hesitantly.  
   “You could find a doctor and some way out of this place,” Ruth said shortly.  
   “I wish I could,” he said earnestly.  Ruth realised that he was as much of a prisoner here- wherever 'here’ was- as she was.  He was obviously out of place here, not trusted by the guards, unable to leave without the adjudicator's permission.  
  “Did the others get away?” she asked.
  “I think so.  She didn’t catch them before we left the castle and I think she’s speeding up her plan rather than try to find them.” 

   She tried to sit up.  Patrick tried to help her, but she felt sick immediately and lay down again.

   “I'm sorry,” he said again.  “Does it hurt a lot?”

   “Quite a lot,” she said, trying to smile.  “My own fault, I knew I’d get hurt.  It seemed worth it, to destroy that monster.”

  “It was very brave,” he said.  “I don’t know how you did it.  I thought you’d...you were dead.”

  “I expected to be,” she said quietly.  “Maybe that would have been better.”

   He took her hands in his.  “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice, pleading.  “I didn’t think anything like this would happen, I didn't mean it to be like this.  She promised you’d all be safe.”

   Ruth looked at him.  She could believe that he hadn't wanted anyone to be hurt- but he could have done something to stop it, to help her and her friends, and he hadn't.  But he had been scared, she had seen that, scared for his own skin.  And he still was.  She knew how that felt.  

   I didn't betray my friends when they refused to help the adjudicator, she thought.  I helped them escape and destroyed that Fantom.  

   But could you do it again, her second thoughts whispered.  Now you know what the consequences are?  

   “I’m sorry,” Patrick repeated.  “Please forgive me, if you can.”  

   Ruth stared at him.  Forgive him?  After all he had done- after betraying her and threatening her with a gun?  Could she really forgive him for that?  How could he even ask?  Her first response was surprise and anger, but as she looked at him she remembered his story.  This was the real Patrick, not one of her stories.  He was human, fallible, as was she.  Who was she to judge?  And he evidently was genuinely sorry.

   Maybe she would be able to forgive him one day- but not yet.  She could not forget what he had done.  

   But before she could speak the stomp of heels outside the door heralded the adjudicator.  Patrick stood up hurriedly as she entered.  Ruth sat up and shrank back, afraid.  The woman scowled at her.  “So you are still alive then.  Useful but rather a shame- it would have been more fun if you had been the victim of your own little triumph.  A pyrrhic victory would be so much more poetic.  Almost operatic.”  She gave a cold laugh.  “Escaping death is more than you deserve.  And if you don’t do what I want you’ll wish you hadn’t.”  

   “What do you want me to do?” Ruth asked, and wished it wasn’t so evident from her voice that she was  terrified.  The adjudicator smirked.  “Nothing too difficult,” she said.  “I want you to sing.  Between the two of you,” she looked across at Patrick, “you can create me a new fantom to replace the one you destroyed.”
    “No!” Ruth said, almost without thinking.   If she had stopped to think, she would not have had the courage to say no, looking up at the menacing mound of wet minerals behind the adjudicator.  
    “No?” the adjudicator repeated.  “Oh, I think you will.”  She motioned with her baton, and the fantom lumbered towards Ruth.

The story continues...

Fantom chapter 4, part 5.

   “Hey,” Ruth called out to the creature, as it lumbered towards the others, trapped in their corner.  “Hey, rocky!  Leave them alone- I’m the one you need to worry about!”  She ran towards it.  Confused, it looked away from the others and turned towards Ruth.
   “No!” screamed it’s mistress.  “You stupid girl, what do you think you’re doing?  Idiot boy, why did you let her go?”
   Ruth could not run far.  Climbing up the steep path to the castle had been too much for her.  Patrick was still sitting gasping on a block of stone.  He reached out towards Ruth as she passed him.
   “What are you doing?” he gasped.
   “What I can to put right what we’ve done,” she said, evading him and scrambling up the wall where it was broken down.  
   “No!” he cried, suddenly realising what she was going to do.  He stood up and reached out towards her, but was pushed out of the way by the adjudicator.
   Ruth was standing on the top of the wall, holding on to the branches of a thin tree that clung to the top of the slope for balance.  She looked down.  The valley was a long way below.  Behind her, the monster was pulling itself up after her, too intent in it’s pursuit of her to notice any danger.
   Looking over her shoulder, she saw the evil woman watching, a striking figure, her dress and scarf flowing in the wind.
   “Come down from there,” the woman said, aiming her gun at Ruth.  Ruth looked at her, her limbs shaking in fear.  
   “No,” she said.  The creature was close now.  Too close.  With a sudden movement she swung herself off the wall, clinging to the tree branch as she dangled out over the steep drop.  The clumsy form of the creature, thrown off balance by her move, toppled from the wall and fell like a stone to the valley below.  Scarcely daring to look down, Ruth heard a sound like a thousand nutshells cracking as it shattered.  
    “No!” screamed the adjudicator.
   Ruth clung onto the tree.  She could feel the wood creaking and beginning to give way.  If she couldn’t climb back onto the wall she would soon fall after the creature- the tree was a spindly thing and could not bear her weight for long.  
   But the adjudicator was still aiming at her.  Ruth tried to move towards the wall.  The branch creaked alarmingly.  “If you move, I’ll kill you,” the adjudicator said.  Ruth looked shakily at her.
   “If I don’t get back on the wall I’ll fall and die anyway,” she said.  “So what do I have to loose?”
   “You killed my servant,” the woman said.  “And thanks to you the others have escaped.  Again.”  It was true.  Ruth could see them making their way down the path as fast as possible, now that the creature was no longer keeping them trapped in their corner.
   “Good,” Ruth said.  “That was what I wanted to do.  If I die doing it, so be it.  My life’s worth little enough anyway.”
   “Spare me the self pity,” the woman said.  “Fall, or be shot.  I don’t care which.”  The branch creaked again.  Instinctively Ruth reached out for the wall with her feet.  The woman raised the gun.
   “Don’t shoot!”  Patrick cried, pushing her out of the way.  He scrambled up onto the wall and reached out towards Ruth.  “Take my hand!”
   But it was no good.  Even as the woman turned on him, the branch broke with a snap.  Ruth, reaching in vain towards the wall, fell.  Patrick leant out to try to catch her and almost overbalanced himself, and the last thing he saw before the woman pulled him backwards was Ruth’s terrified face staring up at him as she plummeted towards the remains of the creature.  

   Adam, Tom and Agnes pelted down the hill, scrambled over the castle wall and kept running.  Agnes tripped and would have fallen if Tom hadn’t steadied her.  They heard behind them the heavy footfalls of the Fantom.   Snatching a glance over his shoulder Tom saw it reach the broken down castle wall and pause.  It couldn’t climb over it.  It lumbered off towards the one gate, much further along the wall.  That might give them enough time to get away.  
   But where could they run too?  The adjudicator had cars, vans.  They couldn’t escape from her on foot.  They needed to raise the alarm somehow, get help.  And what about Ruth?
   Behind them they heard shouting, and then a noise like the beginning of a landslide.  They stopped and wheeled round, but they could see nothing to explain the noise.  
   The Fantom behind them, however, seemed to know what it was.  It had stopped, and was making a scratching, groaning sound, as though keening for some injury.  The three looked at one another.
   “Come on,” Adam said.
   “But what about Ruth?” Tom said.
   “She told us to run,” Adam said.  “Whatever happened, to run.”
   More shouting drifted down the hill to them.  Then a scream.
   “We can’t just leave her!” Agnes said.
   Then it went quiet.  The Fantom hesitated, unsure whether to follow them or return to it’s mistress.
   “We’ve got to go,” Tom said wretchedly.  “That thing will be after us in a minute.  We can’t help Ruth by getting captured again.”
   They knew he was right.  Sadly, they turned and continued down the hill.

The story continues...

Fantom chapter 4, part 4.

   Inside the shell of the castle keep, Ruth sat down, shaking.  She tried not to think about the gun that had been pressed to her head, tried to think herself somewhere else.  She buried her head in her hands, and was surprised into a small cry of pain as the rope cut into her wrists.  
   The others, exhausted from their night on the run, sat down around her.  Agnes put an arm round her, and Tom gingerly picked at the knots on her wrists before reaching into a pocket for a penknife to cut them.  Patrick watched them from the top of the steps.  He still held the gun, albeit rather as if he didn’t know what to do with it.  
   “I’m sorry,” Ruth whispered to the others.  “I was trying to warn you.”
   “We couldn’t have got far anyway,” Adam said.  “Are you ok?”  There were red circles on her wrists from where the ropes had grazed them.
   “I don’t know what she’s planning, but it’s nothing good,” Ruth said.  “Did you manage to tell anyone what happened?”  Tom, Agnes and Adam looked at each other and then at the ground.  “We didn’t really get a chance,” Agnes admitted.  “And...we panicked a bit.”
   So there was no help coming.  Ruth leaned her head against the stone wall, looking out without any hope of finding a way out.  Looking out through the slit window she saw the adjudicator, with both Fantoms beside her, giving orders to the two or three human guards who had come with her.  They began to move off down the path to where the vehicles they had come in were parked.  Ruth guessed they were being sent to look for the TTC.  How would the adjudicator react when she found out that Tom had lied to her?  Ruth was glad the adjudicator hadn’t asked her- she could not have lied as convincingly as Tom.  
   So all that was left to guard them was the Fantoms.  And Patrick.  Would he actually use that gun, fire on his friends?  For his sake as well as theirs, she hoped not.  
   Behind where the adjudicator stood was a broken-down wall, on the other side of which was a long, almost sheer drop towards the valley.  Anyone trying to escape that way would smash onto the rocky slopes below.  There was no way out there.
   At least- not directly.    
   An idea, a horrible idea, was forming in her mind.  Perhaps there was a way to let the others escape, a way to distract or even destroy the stone monsters.  
   “Listen,” she said to the others, still gazing out through the window slit.  “I’ve got an idea that might work, I don’t know yet.  But if you get a chance- even the smallest hint of a chance- then run.  Spit up, she can’t chase all of you.  And get help.” She turned to face them.  “Don’t pay attention to what’s going on behind you, don’t look behind you, don’t even listen.  Just go.  Please.”  
   The other three looked at each other.  “Ok,” Tom said.  “But what’s the plan?”
   “I- I don’t really know yet,” Ruth said, standing up.  “It’s just an idea.  But remember what I said, when the time comes.”  There were bits of gravel and chips that had broken off the wall by her feet.  She picked up a few and climbed up to a sort of gallery that ran round the inside of the keep.  She stopped at a big window opening, high above ground level, and looked down on the adjudicator, weighting the stones in her hand.  And then she threw.
   The first one was miles off, but her second whistled past the adjudicator’s head.  The third was miles away, but the next two were closer, and the sixth actually struck her shoulder.  The woman looked round angrily, and saw Ruth.   
   Patrick hurried towards her, the gun uncomfortably in his hand.  “Stop it,” he said anxiously.
   “Bring her out,” the adjudicator called to Patrick.  He came towards Ruth and, not very roughly, pulled her away towards the exit.  
   “What do you think you’re doing?” the adjudicator asked angrily.     
   Ruth was too scared to reply.  Her plan didn’t seem such a good idea now.  She looked over her shoulder, and saw the others had come to the doorway and were watching.  She made eye contact with Tom.  He would understand.
   Patrick was holding her by the arm.  Ruth looked back at the adjudicator.  
   Then she pulled her arm free and ran.
   She didn’t expect to get far.  She heard the adjudicator shouting at Patrick and the Fantoms to get her.  She could hear the heavy treads of the rocky monsters behind her.  She reached the edge of the castle bailey, and scrambled over the wall.  Climbing that should slow the monsters.  For a moment as she struggled onwards she wondered if she would actually be able to get away.  Then she felt a grip on her arm.  Turning, she saw it was Patrick, wheezing from the effort of chasing her.  The Fantoms were not far behind.
   They dragged her back up the hill to the adjudicator.  Ruth saw with satisfaction that she was standing by the castle steps alone.  The woman shouted at the Fantoms, pointing to where Tom, Agnes and Adam were running away.  One broke off and lurched towards them surprisingly fast, like a sheepdog hemming them in against the wall of the bailey.  The other Fantom dragged Ruth up to the adjudicator, and then turned to help it’s fellow.
   Ruth looked up at it.  It was made of stone.  Stone and water.  It looked somehow less glisteney than usual, as if it were drying out up here in the wind.  She thought.  Perhaps it had become brittle- perhaps it was more vulnerable.  She tried to remember what was on the other side of the wall.  The drop was not sheer, but it was steep.  She gulped.  She had to try it.

The story continues...

Fantom chapter 4, part 3.

   Ruth stared out through a window slit.  Dawn was coming, a grey and damp morning.  Light but soaking rain had begun to fall and she wished the castle still had a roof.  Neither the adjudicator nor her creations were visible, and the castle ruins looked deserted.
   Something attracted her eye.  She saw Tom emerge from a gap in the tumbledown walls, followed by Adam and Agnes.  They looked around, obviouslt unsure where they were.  Ruth’s heart sank.  So they hadn’t escaped, as she had hoped.  The adjudicator couldn’t be far away.  Was this a trap?
   She shouted through the gap in the stones.  “Tom! Adam!”   Outside the keep Tom and the others stopped and looked round to see who was calling them.  
   Behind her Patrick stood up and looked round anxiously, unsure whether he would get into trouble for letting her make noise.  
   Ruth shouted again.  The others were already running towards the keep.  “Agnes!  Get out of here, it’s the adjudicator, she’ll-”
   Ruth was pulled away from the window by the strong fingers of the adjudicator, who had suddenly appeared behind her.  She struck her again with the baton.
   “Come with me,” she hissed.  “You-” turning to Patrick- “Make sure she does what I say.”  She handed him a gun.  “Use it if necessary.”  She turned and led the way up the steps.
   Ruth stared at him for a moment.  He was looking at the gun in his hands, hesitating.  Then he looked up.
   “Go on,” he said.  "Don't make me use this."  Ruth turned away from him and followed the woman up the steps, her heart lower than it had been even during the darkest part of the night.
   The sky was almost red now, as the sun rose through the cloud and remains of the fog.  The adjudicator stood at the top of the steps, looking down on the castle bailey.  Tom, Agnes and Adam stood looking up at her, trapped by the two Fantoms, who, looking just like stone, had been perfectly camouflaged against the walls and had come forward to cut off their escape.  
   “Welcome,” the adjudicator said.  “I was hoping you would join us.  You see I have your friend here.”  She indicated Ruth with her gun.  “So I suggest you do as you’re told or she’ll regret it.”  
   Ruth, surrounded by guns and with the menace of the Fantoms in the background, was terrified.  The heroic thoughts she had had of telling her friends to run, to abandon her and save themselves melted away.  Her only thought was for her own safety.  She looked at Patrick out of the corner of her eye.  He was not looking at the others, but only at the adjudicator, and the gun was in his hands and aimed at her.  Now she knew- she was no better than him.
   “What do you want?” Tom asked.
   “You,” the adjudicator replied.  “I can’t let you go wandering across the countryside telling people what I’m doing.  You’re going to have to stay with me.”
   “Why are you doing this?” Agnes asked.  “What do you want those- things- for?”
   “The Fantoms?” the adjudicator said, patting one on the shoulder.    “They are loyal, practically indestructable, and obedient to whoever has the power to control them.  Which I do.  Nor do they require payment, although they will be rewarded once I have gained power over this land.  Yes,” she had caught their expressions of shock; “That is my plan.  This land was once great, but we have sunk.  We forgot the importance of Art in all its’ forms to our national life.  I shall restore it.  When Art is at the centre of our leaders’ thinking, it will be clear how to solve our problems.  And then this country will be great again.”
   The adjudicator looked at Ruth and then down at Tom, Adam and Agnes who were staring in disbelief.  “You helped me create the Fantoms,” she said.  “So I will offer you a choice- the chance of a lifetime.  Join me.  You will be well rewarded.”
   The others looked at one another.  Ruth looked at Patrick.  He would not meet her eye but was still holding the gun, not quite pointing at her, but enough to be a threat.  
   “Put the guns away and stop threatening our friend, and then maybe we’ll consider it,” Tom said.  
   “Oh no,” the adjudicator laughed.  “If you’re that squeamish you won’t be much use to me.  No.  Join me, and then perhaps I’ll put the guns away.”
   “You force us to help you, take our friend prisoner and chase us all night through rain and fog, and then expect us to say ok, fine, we’ll join your insane plan to take over the country with stone monsters?”  Adam said.  
   “You will when you see the alternative,” the adjudicator said, raising her gun again.  “Oh, and there’s one other thing I want- your time capsule.  Where is it?”
   They looked at one another in confusion.
   “Why do you want it?” Tom said, playing for time.
   “I’m not stupid enough to tell you all my plans,” the adjudicator said angrily.  “This isn’t a Bond film.”
   “Then we’re not telling you,” Adam said.  “It’s not to be used for evil.”
   “Tell me or your friend dies.”  The adjudicator put the gun to Ruth’s head.  
   Ruth felt sick, frozen with fear.  And yet- at the same time she knew that this woman should be prevented from getting the TTC at all costs; whatever her plan was it could be nothing good.  She wanted to tell her friends to keep their secret- but she did not have the courage to say it- or perhaps not the courage to mean it.
   In the chill of the earliest dawn on that lonely hill she felt the cold metal pressed against her skin, not moving or trembling in the slightest.  She clutched at the rail on the stairs in front of her and stared at the ground, desperatly afraid but trying not to sway her friends’ decision by showing it.
   It seemed an eternity before Tom shrugged.  “All right,” he said.  “We left it back in York.”  He gave the adjudicator the details of where they had first found the TTC.  Ruth did not look up, afraid that her expression would betray his lie.  She admired his acting, more convincing than she had imagined he could be.  She hoped none of the others would give him away, by accident or not.  She looked sideways at Patrick.  But he too was staring at the ground.  She realised that her friends would only now be realising that he was there willingly, not as another prisoner.  They probably didn’t know he had stopped her escaping from the cavern.  
   “Good,” the woman said.  “Now, get inside the castle.  You too,” she turned back to Ruth.  “And you, boy, keep an eye on them.  Any attempt to escape, you know what to do.”  She moved away from the steps and Ruth and her friends had no choice but to obey. 

The story continues...