Gargoyle Hall

by Angie Sage

  Fang stopped howling and looked at me, which was good. The Vultures stopped screaming and gawped at me, which was good. The werebat looked down at me with its piercing orange eyes. This should have been good too, because I needed to get its attention, but it didn’t feel like that at all. It felt really scary.

  “I’ll help you,” I told the Vultures. “Follow me, OK?”

  “Yes, yes,” they said. “We’ll do anything. Anything!”

  I set off down the corridor, waving my arms and trotting in a really silly Wanda-style way—which I hoped would make the werebat want to chase me. I glanced behind to see Fang bounding at my heels, then the Vultures following me in exactly the same Wanda-style. If I hadn’t been so scared by what was following them I would have burst out laughing. But close behind them was the werebat, flapping its big leathery wings and making an excited high-pitched squeaking noise.

  I reached the bathroom door, raced in and there was good old Wanda standing in the bath, holding the shower spray. It was going full blast. She looked at me and for a moment I thought she was going to spray me, but she didn’t. She watched me hurtle in, then Fang, then the Vultures come screaming in at top speed and still she waited just as I had asked her to. I pushed the Vultures out of the way and as soon as the werebat was through the door, Wanda turned the shower on to it and blasted it.

  Sploooooosh! The werebat fell to the ground with a loud splat. And there it stayed—a huge, soggy heap of blue leathery skin and fur lying on the bathroom floor. Wanda kept right on blasting until I said, “OK, it’s not moving. You can stop now.”

  Wanda grinned, then she wheeled around and turned the shower on the Vultures.

  “Argh!” they yelled. “Stoppit! Stoppit!”

  Wanda is not a mean person, so she did stop it. But the Vultures were soaked through—they looked very thin and very wet, like two half-drowned cats.

  “What are we going to do with them, Araminta?” Wanda said.

  “We will put them in their room where they can’t cause any more trouble,” I said.

  “It’s all right, we’re going,” said the Yellow Vulture.

  “There’s no way we want to stay here,” said the Blue Vulture, and they dripped soggily into their room and shut the door. We heard the key turn and then there was silence.

  We left Uncle Drac’s werebat lying on the floor in a puddle and closed the bathroom door. When we got outside, Wanda said, “But when it dries out and feels much better, it will come looking for us.”

  “Wanda,” I said, “it has tiny little claws at the end of its wings, which are no good at all for undoing bathroom doors. There is no way it is going to get out of there.”

  We bumped into Edmund, zigzagging along the corridor, moaning and waving his arms. “Oh, Wanda, Wanda,” he wailed. “Something awful has happened!”

  “We know,” I told him crossly. “You let the Vultures escape.”

  “Don’t be mean to Edmund, Araminta,” Wanda said. “He is very upset.”

  “Yes, Wanda, I am. I am very upset,” said Edmund. “The Vultures ran right through me. They are very pointy and sharp. Oooooh!”

  Even though I had now solved the Mystery of the Beast of Gargoyle Hall and the Spook House Mysteries—because they were all caused by the werebat—Chief Detective Spook knew that there were still a few last parts of the Mysteries to piece together. And here was a witness who could help her do that. “Edmund,” I said. “Calm down and tell me what happened.”

  Edmund’s voice was all trembly and squeaky. “I did what Wanda asked me to,” he said. “I herded the Vulture-girls into a big cupboard with books in it. Then Sir Horace and I kept guard. But the little blue bat with the orange eyes from Spook House was in there, hanging upside down in the corner. And that frightened me because I know what happens to that little bat when the moon comes up.”

  “Ooh, Edmund. What happens?” asked Wanda. I sighed. I should have thought my sidekick would have worked that one out by now.

  “Oh, Wanda, it is terrifying. It changes into a huge furry monster bat and gets very hungry. Then it looks for something to eat.”

  “Oh, Edmund,” said my sidekick.

  “When the moon came up that’s exactly what it did. Suddenly there was a huge blue monster with orange eyes in the book cupboard. I think it tried to bite one of the Vulture-girls.”

  Wanda giggled.

  “It was not funny, Wanda,” Edmund said. “It was horrible. They ran out screaming. They went right through me. And then the monster chased after them and that went right through me too. It was very spiky, although not as spiky as the Vulture girls.”

  It was then that I remembered something very important. “Edmund,” I said, “where is the school register?”

  “It is in the book cupboard, Araminta. Sir Horace is guarding it.”

  “Good, that means it is safe. Now I am going to phone Uncle Drac.”

  Wanda stared at me, puzzled. “Why are you phoning Uncle Drac?”

  I sighed. Wanda will never make a Chief Detective. “Because,” I told her very patiently, “it is his werebat. It comes from the caves where Uncle Drac went on holiday.”

  Wanda looked cross. “Well, you might have said that Uncle Drac told you all that.”

  “But Uncle Drac didn’t tell me,” I said. “I worked it out. So I have now solved all the Mysteries. I am Chief Detective, after all.”

  Wanda stared at me. She didn’t say anything for quite some time. And then she said something really nice. “All of the Mysteries … that is very clever, Araminta. You deserve to be Chief Detective.”

  Ringy-ring ringy-ring. The phone rang in faraway Spook House. It was late, very nearly midnight, and I guessed that everyone there had gone to bed. After an awful lot of rings I heard Aunt Tabby say, very crossly indeed, “Yes? What do you want?”

  “Hello, Aunt Tabby,” I said very politely. “It is Araminta, your niece, here. I would like to speak to Uncle Drac please.”

  “Araminta!” Aunt Tabby yelled so loudly that her voice went right into the middle of my head. “What are you doing? Why aren’t you in bed? What time do you call this?”

  “It is nearly midnight, Aunt Tabby,” I said. “You really should get your clock fixed.”

  “Araminta, have you just telephoned to tell me to get my clock repaired?” Aunt Tabby asked crossly.

  “No, actually Aunt Tabby I haven’t,” I said very patiently. “I have telephoned to speak to Uncle Drac. Like I said.”

  “I don’t know where he is and I am not getting out of bed and walking all around Spook House to look for him either,” said Aunt Tabby. “You will have to speak to me instead.”

  I knew that tone of voice. There was no way Aunt Tabby was going to get Uncle Drac to come to the phone. So I said, “Could you please tell Uncle Drac that his werebat is here at Gargoyle Hall? It stowed away in my trunk and got out. But tell him that he is not to worry because even though it has been chasing the Vultures we have it under control now. But it would be good if he can come and get it tomorrow. Thank you very much.” And I put the phone down.

  Wanda was looking at me, impressed. “Wow. What did Aunt Tabby say to that?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I gave her the message like she asked me to and then I rang off.”

  Wanda grinned. “I expect she is saying a lot to Uncle Drac right now,” she said.

  “Yes,” I said. “I expect she is.”

  Mathilda had gone to tell Miss Gargoyle and Matron what had happened and show them the Beast suit, so we decided to go and see how she was getting on. Edmund was calmer now. He floated along behind us, casting a nice ghostly green glow over everything while Fang trotted beside me. We bumped into Miss Gargoyle bouncing out of Matron’s room like an excited beach ball. She gave us a really big smile. “Mathilda has told me everything. Well done, girls!” she said.

  “Now you can get the school going again,” I said.

  “Yes, Araminta, I think we can,” Miss Gargoyle said, her eyes
twinkling.

  Suddenly Matron called out, “There’s a car coming up the drive!”

  “At this time of night?” Miss Gargoyle called back. “Whoever can it be?”

  “Ermintrude,” Matron sounded worried. “Ve haf trouble. Big trouble.”

  Miss Gargoyle hurried back into the room. I followed and found her looking out of the little window. Peering over her shoulder, I saw the long beams of the headlights shining through the trees as a big shiny black car swept up to the entrance. A driver in uniform got out and walked smartly around to the back. He opened the door and a tall, thin man in a black suit stepped out. From the window we could see the top of his shining bald head, which was fringed by long white hair. He looked just like a …

  “Vulture!” I gasped.

  “It’s the Bonkers Baron,” whispered Miss Gargoyle.

  “Vot is he doing here?” Matron whispered back.

  Miss Gargoyle looked very flustered. “I don’t know. We must go down and meet him. Oh dear. Oh deary-dear.” She bustled out and we all followed her. Halfway down the corridor she stopped and her hands flew to her mouth. “The school register!” she said. “Those ghastly girls have still got it. Oh, what I am going to doooo?”

  “It’s all right, Miss Gargoyle,” I said. “They don’t have it any more. Sir Horace is guarding it.”

  “Sir Horace?” asked Miss Gargoyle.

  “He is a ghost. But he is a knight and will guard it with his life.”

  Miss Gargoyle gave me a headmistressy look. “A ghost has no life to guard anything with, Araminta,” she said. “Oh dear, I really must have that register.”

  “We’ll go and get it right now,” I said.

  “Quick as you can, girls,” said Miss Gargoyle. “Please bring it down to my study.”

  “Edmund,” I said, “take us to the register.”

  Edmund can move very quickly when he wants to. He looked really funny. His little spindly legs were running fast, but his feet did not touch the floor. He zoomed along the maze of corridors and up and down endless stairs until Wanda and I were completely lost.

  Suddenly a booming voice called out, “Miss Spook, where is my trusty sword?” The eerie greenish figure of Sir Horace came hurrying out of the gloom. His ghostly hair was standing up on end—he looked like he had had a bad shock.

  I felt really embarrassed—we had left his trusty sword on the bathroom floor. I guessed by now it was going rusty. And Sir Horace hates rust.

  “Er. Do you need it right now, Sir Horace?” I asked.

  “Yes. There are thieves and brigands at large,” he said.

  “I can go and get it,” I offered.

  “There is no time. Miss Spook, Miss Wizzard, come at once.” He beckoned us to follow him. We hurried after Sir Horace down the dark corridor. At the end was a big cupboard with a door thrown wide open, and as we hurried towards it the two Vultures came racing out. Clasped in the Blue Vulture’s bony claws was the big red school register.

  “Hey!” yelled Wanda. “You’re meant to be in your room. You told us you would stay there.”

  They burst out laughing. “Ever heard of the word ‘gullible’?” the Yellow Vulture sneered.

  “Yeah, ha ha,” snorted the Blue Vulture. “Gullible. And if you look it up in the dictionary, it’s not there.”

  “Isn’t it?” said Wanda.

  They let out a horrible screech and ran straight at us. They ran straight through Sir Horace, then shoved us out of the way, their metal heels going clicketty-clacketty clicketty-clacketty as they ran away cackling.

  We picked ourselves off the floor and chased after them, but the Vultures knew their way through the school and we didn’t. We lost them and it took us ages to get down to Miss Gargoyle’s study to tell her the bad news.

  When we got there, things did not look good. Mathilda was in the entrance hall putting Sir Horace’s suit of armour back together. She looked really upset. “We have to get Sir Horace back in his armour,” she said. “He is our only hope of stopping them taking the school register away!”

  I knew Mathilda was desperate but I didn’t think even Sir Horace in his armour could do much. “I’m going to see if we can help,” I said. “There must be something we can do.”

  Wanda and I slipped quietly into Miss Gargoyle’s study. Everyone was there.

  Miss Gargoyle was standing behind her desk looking like she wanted to cry. Matron was next to her, looking like she wanted to hit someone. The Vultures were there, looking smug. And looming over everyone was the Bonkers Baron. He was tall, thin and beaky, just like his daughters. The way his shining bald head with its fringe of long white hair bent forward and stared down at everyone made him look so vulture-like it was almost funny. But it wasn’t funny because he had the nastiest smile I’ve ever seen, as though he had found something really tasty and dead to eat. He was resting one of his long white claws—I mean hands—on the school register, which lay open at the last page on Miss Gargoyle’s desk.

  The little clock on Miss Gargoyle’s bookshelf suddenly made a whirring noise and then it began to ping. Everyone in the room stopped to listen. It pinged twelve times. It was midnight—and a new day.

  The Bonkers Baron began to speak in a flat, grating voice. “As of today this school has no pupils registered. The terms of the covenant state that on the first day with an empty school register, Gargoyle Hall becomes mine to do with as I wish.”

  “But that’s not true,” I burst out. “I am registered at the school.”

  “No, weed, you are not,” the Blue Vulture said. “You removed yourself from the register. One of the conditions of being at the school is that you do not go outside the school boundaries without permission. But you did. You climbed over the fence with your rabbit friend. We saw you. And as head girls we were legally standing in for the headmistress, who was not available—seeing as she had run away screaming and locked herself in Matron’s room. Ha ha.”

  Miss Gargoyle sat down and put her head in her hands. It was true and there was nothing she could say.

  “But I want to stay at the school, so put me back on the register,” I said.

  “If a girl is removed from the school register for breaking the school rules, she cannot be reinstated for at least two weeks,” the Yellow Vulture said smugly. “Isn’t that true, Miss Gargoyle?”

  Miss Gargoyle nodded bleakly.

  The Blue Vulture laughed. “So that’s it. There are no students at the school.”

  “What about me?” Wanda yelled. Everyone turned to look at her.

  “I want to be at this school,” Wanda said. “I do. I really, really do!”

  “Well, you can’t,” the Bonkers Baron snapped. “Because, little girl, there isn’t a school to be at any more.” Wanda looked like she wanted to kick him. She does not like being called “little girl”.

  Suddenly Miss Gargoyle got to her feet. “Baron,” she said. “The terms of the covenant actually state that a complete day must pass without any students registered at the school. I am still headmistress of Gargoyle Academy for Girls and if I wish to enrol a girl at Gargoyle Academy today, then I will.”

  “Oh no you won’t!” the Blue Vulture yelled, and she snatched the register off the desk.

  “Give me the register please, Violetta,” Miss Gargoyle said.

  “Don’t give it to her, Vile!” the Yellow Vulture yelled.

  “Of course I won’t give it to her, stupid,” snapped the Blue Vulture.

  “Yes you will!” Wanda and I said together. We snatched the school register out of the Blue Vulture’s claws, but the Bonkers Baron pounced on us. He was really strong; he pulled the register out of our hands, did a swivel on his metal heel and click-clacked away. His two baby Vultures ran after him and there was a horrible crash in the hall.

  We all raced out of the study to find Sir Horace’s armour heaped up in a pile on the floor. Again. “Come on, Mathilda!” I yelled. “We’ve got to stop them!”

  We hurtled down the steps b
ut the big black car’s engine was running, the Bonkers Baron was already in the front seat and the Vultures were throwing themselves into the back. There was a squeal of tyres, slamming of doors, a shower of gravel sprayed into the air and the car was gone. We stood and stared at the red lights disappearing down the drive into the night. No one said a word.

  And then suddenly, from somewhere along the drive, there was a massive Bang! It echoed into the night, sending the crows fluttering up from the trees, cawing in protest. There was silence. We could see headlights stopped in the distance shining up into the trees and we hurried off towards them—even Vultures need help if they have a car crash.

  It was a long way down the drive to the headlights. Miss Gargoyle and Matron got so puffed they had to stop, but Wanda, Mathilda and I kept going. We found the Vultures’ car stuck between two trees. A horrible hissing noise was coming, not from the car, but from the other side of the drive.

  Wanda grabbed my arm. “It’s a snake!” she whispered. “They must have swerved to avoid a snake. Listen. It’s huge!”

  Even I know that huge snakes do not exist in this country. I knew at once that there must be another explanation. Besides, in the red glow of the Vultures’ back lights, I saw an unmistakable outline. “Don’t be silly, Wanda,” I said. “It’s Barry’s van!”

  “Dad! Dad!” Wanda yelled and raced towards the van, which was sitting on the grass at the end of two deep tyre ruts, with steam hissing out of its bonnet. The door opened and Uncle Drac came staggering out.

  I left Mathilda to sort the Vultures out and ran to help Uncle Drac, but he was fine. “I told you,” he was saying to Barry, “I told you. You shouldn’t drive a van without headlights. But did you take any notice?”

  “Well, I could see perfectly well, Drac,” Barry said. “It’s not my fault. I was blinded by those bright lights racing towards us. Far too bright they were. And too fast. It shouldn’t be allowed.”