Nicola Cornick - House Of Shadows - Discover the thrilling untold story of the Winter Queen

‘That was by fortunate chance,’ Shurmer said. The bright white lights of the exhibition cases threw the shadows of his face into stark relief. Suddenly he looked frail, the skin stretched too taut across his cheekbones, his eyes tired.

‘For many years the mirror was missing,’ he said. ‘It was believed buried with Frederick, but Frederick’s tomb was lost during the Thirty Years War. Then the mirror miraculously reappeared in the late twentieth century at a car boot sale in Corby in Northamptonshire.’

Holly almost choked. ‘Forgive me,’ she said, ‘but you do not strike me as the sort of man who spends his time attending car boot sales.’

Shurmer laughed. ‘What I should have said is that I was alerted to the fact that there was a very old, very fine mirror for sale. An … associate of mine bought it and mentioned it to me. He knew that I was interested in seventeenth-century artefacts, particularly those from the Bohemian court.’

‘I suppose it had no provenance?’ Holly said.

Shurmer shook his head. ‘Naturally not. But it matches the known descriptions and pictures of the Murano crystal mirror.’

‘Did you have it authenticated?’ Holly asked. It would be the natural thing to do; call in a group of experts to assess the mirror and confirm its age and origin. Yet Espen Shurmer was shaking his head again and she sensed that his belief in the mirror and its myth was so strong that either he believed it absolutely without the need for proof or he did not want to question it too closely in case he destroyed the legend.

Of course he might be right. It could indeed be the very mirror that the Winter King had used to foresee the future. Holly glanced at it again and felt the same disturbing pull. A breath of wind seemed to ripple through the still air of the gallery. The lights seemed to shimmer and the mirror glowed in its case as though it were alive. She shuddered, closing her eyes. When she reopened them the gallery swam back into her vision, all bright lights and clean modern lines. It looked normal, just an empty room with old objects in display cases.

‘That brings us to the Sistrin pearl,’ Shurmer said, ‘for the crystal mirror was not the only gift bequeathed to Elizabeth by her grandmother. It was matched with a jewel of rare beauty and price.’ He waved a hand towards the miniature of young Elizabeth that was displayed in the glass cabinet. Holly saw that she was wearing a string of pearls with one huge drop pearl in the centre. The simplicity of the necklace and the radiance of the jewels suited the innocence of the portrait. Curiously though, the big pearl was shaped exactly like the crystal mirror. It was a pear shape, or teardrop.

‘The Sistrin pearl was also said to hold great magic.’ Shurmer, too, was looking towards the cabinet where the pearl gleamed at Elizabeth’s neck. ‘It was supposedly a powerful talisman for good, but like the mirror it also possessed the power to wreak destruction if it was misused.’

‘Old pearls almost always have some sort of legend attached to them, though, don’t they?’ Holly said. ‘I mean, usually they have belonged to pirates or they are cursed or something. It was a very superstitious age.’

‘That is true,’ Shurmer said. ‘Certainly the Knights of the Rosy Cross believed the legends and used the pearl and the mirror together in their necromancy. They used their magic to create firewater, a medium through which the future could not only be seen but could also be transformed.’

‘That sounds rather dangerous to me,’ Holly said. ‘If you believe in these things …’ She hesitated. ‘Well, you’re meddling with forces you cannot control, aren’t you.’

‘Yes,’ Shurmer said. There was an odd note in his voice. ‘Indeed you are.’

‘Was this what Ben wanted to know?’ Holly asked. ‘The legend of the Sistrin pearl?’

Shurmer shook his head. ‘Dr Ansell already knew the history of the pearl,’ he said. ‘No—’ His eyes met hers and Holly felt something akin to an electric shock. ‘Your brother wished to find out what had happened to the pearl after it passed out of the possession of the Winter Queen.’

Holly felt even more bewildered. ‘Why on earth would he want to know that?’

‘I have no notion,’ Shurmer said calmly. ‘He would not say. That was why I wanted to meet him. I thought that perhaps he had found it.’

‘Found it?’ Holly felt completely bewildered. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Shurmer, I don’t quite understand …’

‘After the Winter Queen’s death, the pearl disappeared,’ Shurmer said, ‘but unlike the crystal mirror it never reappeared. We do not know its fate. It is lost.’ He made a slight gesture and the light flashed on the expensive gold watch he wore. ‘It is the holy grail of collectors, Miss Ansell. Everyone wants to find the Sistrin pearl. I myself have sought it for forty years.’

There was silence in the gallery. Holly could hear nothing except the soft hum of the air conditioning. She was very aware of Espen Shurmer watching her, gauging her every expression. She was not sure what was showing on her face. It had been astonishing enough to discover that Ben had been involved in some sort of family history research. Now to discover that he had been making enquiries about a long-lost pearl was extraordinary. It felt as though there should be a connection between the two but Holly could not imagine what it was. The story of the mirror and the pearl seemed no more than superstition and legend.

‘You should know,’ Shurmer said, and Holly realised that he was picking his words very carefully, ‘that after Dr Ansell contacted me I did make some enquiries into his background and history.’ He spread his hands in a gesture of apology. ‘Forgive me, but I am a rich man and sometimes criminals will try to target my collection. Naturally I quickly realised your brother was no such person.’ His smile was disarming. ‘Yet equally I could find no obvious connection between your family and the Winter Queen to suggest why your brother might possess the Sistrin.’

‘Did you ask him?’ Holly said. ‘Whether he had the pearl, I mean?’

‘Yes,’ Shurmer said. His tone was pensive. ‘He was … evasive. He suggested we meet and I agreed.’

There was silence. Holly tried to remember her conversations with Ben. None of them had involved anything as arcane as lost treasure. She thought about the mill. She had spent much of the day tidying it up and she had found nothing unusual or unexpected. The lack of clues towards Ben’s disappearance had frustrated her.

‘I’m very sorry,’ she said helplessly. ‘Ben said nothing to me. I really don’t think I can help.’

‘No matter,’ Shurmer said graciously. ‘I would ask, though, that if you discover anything, you let me know?’ He took a card from his inside pocket and passed it to Holly. It felt crisp and smooth beneath her fingers, the edges sharp.

‘Oh, of course,’ she said. ‘Of course I will.’

She stood up, suddenly wanting to be gone from this place, the supernatural stories and the crystal mirror’s sinister gleam. It was easy to believe in superstition when she was encased in a world like the Ashmolean, where thousand-year-old tribal masks watched her with blank eyes as she passed and she could hear the whispers of history.

‘I understand that you are most anxious to uncover the reasons for your brother’s disappearance, Miss Ansell,’ Shurmer said quietly, getting to his feet too. ‘I hope that you find what you are looking for.’

‘Thank you,’ Holly said. ‘I …’ She hesitated. ‘I’m sure he will turn up soon.’

She saw the smile that touched Shurmer’s eyes and knew that he knew she was lying.

‘Let us hope so,’ he said. He held out a hand and Holly shook it.