Grim Hill: The Forgotten Secret (Grim Hill Series)

by Linda DeMeulemeester

  “Did you see that?” I asked my sister, half hoping she saw that her “auntie” was something evil, but half hoping she’d been spared the horrific sight.

  Except Sookie nodded saying, “Bea is a wicked fairy.”

  I’d thought Bea had magical abilities like my sister, but I thought she was human, even when I suspected her magic had become dark. But if she was a fairy … My poor friend. My heart broke for Lea.

  “Don’t you know?” Sookie turned to me. “Lea’s a fairy, too.”

  What?

  But even as my head whirled, I understood one thing. When it came to fairy stuff, Sookie knew.

  CHAPTER 18 - A Dark Hunger Awakens …

  ALL THAT NIGHT I wondered if there were good fairies. None of them had been good so far … except that one time when the Oak King had helped me as payment for a favor. Could Lea be good? I twisted in my blankets and kicked off my quilt. Could Lea be evil? I twisted the other way and tangled myself in my sheets. It didn’t help that there was a constant eerie wailing outside my window and by morning, every hair stood on my head and goose bumps rippled all over my arms. Then I had to go to school, even though I now fully understood something terrible was going on.

  I met up with Jasper and I told him the news about Lea and her aunt and how they were fairies.

  “No, not Lea,” Jasper sounded crushed. “Are you sure, Cat?”

  “Sookie is sure.” Both Jasper and I understood Sookie had an uncanny sense about fairy things. But was Lea evil? I didn’t think so. I was sure Lea was trying to help me. Maybe some fairies weren’t as wicked as the others. At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself.

  We split up once we reached school, and I agreed to keep an eye on the zombies and see if I could figure out how they’d all react to the dance tomorrow night. Jasper would skip the dance lessons after school and do more Celtic research.

  As I sat in science class, I watched with growing dread as Ms. Dreeble slumped at her desk and kept opening and closing her yellow binder. She’d stare at us, begin her lecture, “Today class … we’re going to …” then she’d sit back down and flip through her book. But instead of reading anything, she’d stare off into the distance.

  We all sat uncomfortably in our seats wondering what to do next. Then I spotted something on Ms. Dreeble’s desk that made me gasp.

  “What?” Mia said suspiciously.

  “Oh, nothing … I just um … dropped my pen.” I bent over as if I was looking for it.

  Even when the noise level began to rise, Ms. Dreeble didn’t care that we were all chatting with each other. That is, Amanda and Mia were complaining to each other and ignoring me. So were a bunch of the other girls. Mitch and Rabinder sat in their seats staring straight ahead. I wished Mitch would stop drooling – not that Ms. Dreeble noticed.

  When the bell rang, I lingered behind until the rest of the kids left. Then I casually sauntered up to Ms. Dreeble’s desk. “My essay is going great,” I told her – though that was only an excuse to get closer to her, I hadn’t touched my assignment yet.

  “Um … hmm … ah …” Ms. Dreeble kept flipping through her book.

  I left but I’d seen enough. A paper valentine decorated in liberal swipes of red sparkle-pen – specially designed by Sookie – sat on my teacher’s desk. Inside the card was signed by Mr. Morrows and a tell-tale fragment of red thread was still taped onto the card. Ms. Dreeble had taken her Valentine’s charm and put it in a pocket or something. She too had been turned into a zombie.

  During our dance lessons that day, Ms. Dreeble stood in front of the gym opening and shutting her mouth, blinking her eyes, and just staring straight ahead. When Mr. Morrows announced they’d give a demonstration of how to do a waltz turn, she only shuffled around.

  I was staring at them so hard I fumbled the next dance step.

  “Wow,” said Clive. He ran his fingers through his black curly hair. “Even with you missing that step, we’re still the best dancers in the whole class today.”

  No kidding, I thought. Every girl had anticipated the dance so much, and now they all had mindless zombies for partners. Not to mention they had to deliver the boys to school, to each class, and back home again. The girls would be exhausted by tomorrow night. Some Valentine’s dance this was going to be for them. I winced as Mia sent a scathing glare my way. They all blamed me.

  “Glad I have your undivided attention,” Clive said sarcastically.

  “Sorry, what’s that again?” The lesson was passing in slow agony.

  “I said,” Clive almost shouted as if I was dumb instead of uninterested, “too bad there isn’t a prize for the best ballroom dancers – we’d win.”

  “You’re not even dancing tomorrow night,” I reminded him. “Your band is playing.”

  “And won’t that be a waste of my talent,” he said in disgust as he watched everyone stumble and collide with each other. “About the dance, I’ve been meaning to ask if after the dance, we could, I mean … you’d be my …”

  Before Clive could ask me something I suspected I didn’t want to hear, I broke away saying I had to meet up with Jasper. Clive looked disappointed, but I fumed. Trust Clive not to even notice his friends were zombies. He was so full of himself.

  Jasper wasn’t at his locker so I had to search the school until I found him in the library. He’d been pouring through Forenza’s Celtic mythology book.

  He looked up at me and said, “How are the …”

  “Zombies?” I whispered. “Pretty much the same, but Lea had said the charm could maybe be dissolved under a dark moon. But I’m not sure what she meant. Did you find out anything?”

  I didn’t like the look on Jasper’s face.

  “I cross-referenced the Celtic festival, Imbolic, and fairies, Cat, but I could only come up with one connection.”

  “What’s that?” I asked almost afraid to hear the answer. As if a cloud blocked the window, the room grew darker. And Darkmont’s library, with its dingy venetian blinds and grey-lined walls containing tattered books, seemed dark enough.

  Jasper opened his book to a page illustrated with a blond Celtic queen. “Candlemas and St. Brigit’s Day are other names for the February festival of Imbolic.”

  Candlemas. I leaned closer. I had learned – the hard way – that the Celts typically used fire or light to battle fairy enchantments. “Did you find a way to undo the Valentine’s charms?”

  “No,” Jasper shook his head.

  That simple word made me brace myself. “What did you find?”

  “The Celtic goddess, Brigit, is called a fairy in some legends. She reigns during Imbolic and she can appear young or very old.”

  “Like Lea’s aunt,” I said, thinking of the ancient hag I’d seen under the streetlight. Come to think of it, that was the frightful vision I’d seen in the window of Lea’s house during the storm. Probably Skeeter had seen it too the way he went on about seeing a witch there.

  “But Lea’s aunt is a fairy not a Celtic goddess,” I said trying to see the connection.

  Jasper squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. “Some of these myths say Brigit was the first banshee. That’s where everything matches up – fairies, Valentine’s, and storm moons.”

  Banshee. Thoughts spun around in my head. What did I know about banshees? They were scary – why? Something about sounding like a banshee – right – wailing and screeching … because … because … “Isn’t a banshee,” I began slowly, “a creature who wails and screams when someone is about to die?” I swallowed, but it was more like a gulp.

  Then we both grew silent as a harsh wailing screeched like a siren in the distance. The same screeching that had been going on night after night.

  “Cat,” Jasper said suddenly. “Do you think someone is going to die?”

  A cold chill settled over me as I shook my head. “Does that book tell us anything else about banshees?”

  “Some myths state the banshee can be a supernatural creature that feeds on the souls of young men
to keep herself young forever,” Jasper said sounding puzzled.

  “Under February’s storm moon a dark hunger looks to feed,” I said as the puzzle pieces began snapping together. I didn’t like the picture. “Fine, my new best friend might be related to a banshee, except I don’t see how it’s Lea’s fault, whether she is a fairy or not.” I leaned over to read the page Jasper was holding, but he slammed the book shut.

  “The rest only mentions how banshees often wear grey,” said Jasper. ”Bea always wears grey, right?”

  I nodded in agreement. “I sensed danger way back, you know. Even their house didn’t add up, the way it appeared decrepit on the outside but fantastical on the inside – with rich tapestries and silk banners and exotic carpets and glowing lamps.” I struggled, trying to figure out Lea’s place. “Like the inside of a fortune-teller’s tent at a carnival, cool and exciting but …”

  “But what?” asked Jasper.

  “Whenever I was there, I couldn’t wait to leave. The house gave me the creeps. As if it was haunted.”

  Jasper shook his head. “Part decrepit and eerie and part beautiful – that sounds a lot like a magical place, don’t you think?”

  Like Fairy.

  We sat in silence for a minute, both of us thinking how we’d missed the obvious. Get a grip, I told myself as my brain shouted, Why didn’t you see that?

  “Cat,” said Jasper. “I’m not sure, but I think there might be one more connection. There’s a bit in one book about a ‘sweetheart fairy,’ a type of banshee that lures young men to their doom. And ‘sweetheart’ sounds like it could be about Valentine’s, right? And the Irish name for banshee sounds a bit like Bea’s name.

  “I’m not exactly following you.” It was as if my brain didn’t want to make any more dreadful connections.

  “What is Bea’s last name?” prompted Jasper in an odd whisper.

  I thought back to the first day Lea came to class and Ms. Dreeble asked her to spell her name. “Shea,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Bea … Shea … yeah, so?”

  “Celtic for banshee is Bea-Ann-Shea,” Jasper concluded.

  Ann – wasn’t that the name of the girl at Lucinda’s dance seventy years ago? The blond-haired girl who went off with Gordie? I thought about the face I’d seen under my street lamp as Bea had changed from girl to woman to hag. I felt inside my jacket pocket and pulled out the old newspaper clipping of the curly haired boy and blond girl. Could there be an even bigger link to our Valentine’s dance than Jasper realized?

  Blood thundered in my ears as I stared at the picture. “No way.”

  CHAPTER 19 - A Dark Visit

  JUMPING UP FROM the table, I began to pace. “I have to talk to Lucinda. She said there was no connection between her dance and ours, but something’s clouding her memory – something she’s forgotten, and we need to know.”

  I tried to make it sound as if my heart wasn’t pounding so hard that blood buzzed in my ears.

  Jasper didn’t disagree with me about questioning Lucinda, but he didn’t say it was a good idea either. As a matter of fact, Jasper was strangely quiet. I couldn’t blame him – Lucinda wasn’t well. But we had to figure out what the banshee was after and how that was tied to the dance tomorrow night.

  This time we didn’t pound on the Greystones’ doorknocker. We tapped it gently. It took awhile, but Alice finally opened.

  “Shh,” she said, but she smiled. “My sister’s back from the hospital, but she’s resting upstairs. The doctor says her heart is weak.”

  “I need to ask Lucinda a question,” I said. “It might upset her.”

  “Oh Cat, that would be too dangerous right now,” said Alice.

  “We think a banshee has come to our town,” Jasper said.

  “And the same banshee may have visited seventy years ago – when Lucinda had her Valentine’s dance.”

  Alice Greystone didn’t say “What nonsense,” nor did she shoo us away. Instead she nodded slowly as worry blossomed on her face, and she ushered us in as we explained about Sookie crafting love charms that turned the boys into zombies – that she’d got the idea from Bea, and why we thought Bea might be a banshee. Neither Jasper nor I mentioned Lea. We knew none of this was her fault.

  Although Alice looked worried and sad, she said, “Well, we can’t very well stand back and let something terrible happen. Lucinda wouldn’t want that.”

  We crept up the staircase with the mahogany banister, and when Alice tapped lightly on the bedroom door and opened it, I could smell camphor and cough syrup. Alice went in first while Jasper and I waited in the hall as I shifted my stocking feet on the braided rug.

  “Cat, Jasper, please come in, “ Alice called.

  Lucinda lay in a dark four-poster bed, her white lace coverlet and white nightgown providing a stark contrast against the black headboard. She sat propped up on several white satin pillows. It disturbed me to see her skin almost as pale as the bedsheet.

  “I’m sorry, Cat,” Lucinda said in a voice as fragile as tissue paper. “Alice told me why you are both here. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I cannot remember the night of my Valentine’s dance.”

  “If you wouldn’t mind, perhaps this would help.” I handed the folded newspaper clipping to Lucinda.

  Lucinda clutched the paper in her hand and as she smoothed it out and stared at the picture, she grew paler. Alice had been standing close by, and she quickly poured her sister a glass of water and fussed over her lace bedcover. Lucinda stared at the photograph and the jumbled headlines for a long time.

  “It is guilt that made me forget,” Lucinda said at last as she handed me back the newspaper. Her face grew tragic. “I remember what those headlines said. They’re about a terrible secret that I’ve kept buried deep inside.”

  Alice reached over and held her sister’s hand. “What is it?”

  Then in that faraway voice Lucinda had used when she retold the night of the dance, she began:

  “After I’d turned Gordie down so cruelly, he began following Ann everywhere. I thought they had become good friends. But Gordie didn’t show up at the dance with Ann. He didn’t show up at the dance with anyone. I went to the dance with Roger, and I remember how beautiful the gymnasium looked with the glowing red lanterns as we danced in the swirling crimson light. But halfway through the event we heard a terrible wail and then a scream. It cut through the music, and the fun everyone was having evaporated on the spot. A deep sadness hung over us all like a black veil.”

  A tear trailed down Lucinda’s cheek. “After the dance poor Gordie’s lifeless body was found near the school at the foot of Grim Hill. That’s what the headline said: ‘Young boy found dead, girl still missing.’”

  My chest squeezed until it hurt. I almost fainted.

  “What happened to Ann then?” Jasper said nervously from where he stood over in the corner of the room. I was pretty sure I knew, but I waited for Lucinda to speak again.

  Lucinda closed her eyes. “I’m sure Ann was never seen again. But of course I would disappear from our town in a few short months. Do you recall seeing Ann again?” Lucinda asked Alice, but Alice shook her head.

  “I never told anyone how I’d been cruel to Gordie and how he chose instead to be with Ann that night.” Lucinda hung her head. “Now I fear I led him to his doom. That’s why I couldn’t … didn’t … want to remember such a terrible secret.”

  “You couldn’t have known what would happen to Gordie,” comforted Alice.

  “And you couldn’t have known Ann was a banshee,” I said, explaining the girl in the picture had the same face I’d seen on Bea when it melted and changed under the streetlight.

  But Lucinda didn’t want comfort. As if releasing her guilty secret eased her worried heart, her color deepened, and she said, “We cannot let what happened to Gordie happen to anyone else. Who might this banshee be after?” Lucinda paused as if she was trying to use just the right words. “Cat, is there someone you may have spurned?”

  “Spurned?
”

  “A boy who you’ve rejected,” said Lucinda as she winced with guilt. “A young man who is feeling alone in this world could be drawn to a banshee’s lure.”

  My face got hot and I said, “Sort of … maybe. I might have been a little … mean to, um, Clive.” I knew Clive wanted me to hang out with him at the dance even though he was playing in the band. He’d been trying to work up the courage to ask me. “I’ve been ducking him.”

  Silence hung in the room. “I think your friend may be in danger,” Lucinda said gently.

  Alice left the kitchen and came back shortly holding her huge book of fairy tales. “I’m sure some answers will be here.”

  But we didn’t have time to wait. Jasper and I said goodbye and raced off to find Lea. In minutes we stood in front of the fence of Lea’s house as night slipped down from the horizon. I’d hoped Lea would be hanging out near her fence like she sometimes did. In my mind we’d find her, warn her about her aunt; and fairy or not, I’d let her come and stay with me. No wonder she seemed so sad the last time I saw her. I drummed up my courage and began walking with Jasper up to that ramshackle house with the clattering shutters and menacing shadows. One look at the doorknocker made me hesitate for real this time.

  The green brass dog’s head stared viciously from above the door handle.

  “Um,” said Jasper. “This is probably a bad time to bring this up, but the Celtic mythology book said the banshee was often accompanied by a huge green dog that was her mascot.”

  I knew there was something menacing about that ugly thing.

  Suddenly I imagined clanging that doorknocker, and the dog’s mouth widening until I disappeared inside it forever – fairy magic could be so treacherous.

  But I lifted the doorknocker anyway.

  CHAPTER 20 - Inside the Secret Garden

  I BANGED FURIOUSLY, but no one was home.

  What were we going to do?

  Jasper and I had no choice but to go home and wait to try and contact Lea. All evening I kept checking out the window and turning on all the lights. I don’t know why – maybe it was because of the eerie wailing that went on and on.