Lucinda's Secret

by Holly Black

  Aunt Lucy frowned. “The house? It is not safe for you to stay at the house.”

  “We’ve had people in to make repairs,” Mom said. “And look, the children brought some cookies.”

  “Lovely.” The old woman looked at the plate as though it were piled with cockroaches.

  Jared, Simon, and Mallory exchanged glances.

  The nurse snorted. “Nothing you can do,” the nurse said to Mrs. Grace, not seeming to care that Aunt Lucy could hear her. “She won’t eat anything while we’re watching.”

  Aunt Lucy narrowed her eyes. “I am not deaf, you know.”

  “You won’t try one?” Mom asked, uncovering the sugar cookies and holding the platter out to Aunt Lucinda.

  “I’m afraid not,” said the old woman. “I find that I am quite content.”

  “Tell me what’s happened.”

  “Perhaps we could talk in the hall,” their mother whispered to the nurse. “I had no idea things were still so bad.” With a worried look she put the plate on a side table and left the room with the nurse.

  Jared grinned at Simon. This was even better than they had hoped. Now they were guaranteed at least a few minutes alone.

  “Aunt Lucy,” Mallory said, speaking fast. “When you told our mom that the house was dangerous, you didn’t mean the construction, did you?”

  “You meant the faeries,” said Simon.

  “It’s okay to tell us. We’ve seen them,” Jared put in.

  Their aunt smiled at them, but it was a sad smile. “Faeries are exactly what I meant,” she said, patting the bed beside her. “Come. Sit down, you three. Tell me what’s happened.”

  “Come, my dears.”

  Chapter Three

  IN WHICH Stories Are Told and a Theft Is Discovered

  We’ve seen goblins and a troll and a griffin,” Jared told her eagerly as they arranged themselves at the foot of the hospital bed. It was such a relief to be believed. Now if she would just explain how important the Guide was, everything would be okay.

  “And Thimbletack,” Mallory put in, picking up a cookie and taking a bite. “We’ve seen him, although we’re not sure if he counts as a brownie or a boggart.”

  “Right,” said Jared. “But we need to ask you something important.”

  “Thimbletack?” Aunt Lucinda asked, patting Mallory’s hand. “I haven’t seen him in ages. How is he? The same, I expect. They’re all always the same, aren’t they?”

  “I . . . I don’t know,” Mallory said.

  Aunt Lucy reached into the drawer on her side table and brought out a worn, green cloth bag embroidered with stars. “Thimbletack loved these.”

  Jared took the bag and peered into it. Silvery jacks next to several stone and clay marbles glinted inside the pouch. “They’re his?”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “They’re mine, or they were, when I was young enough to play with such things. I’d just like him to have them. The poor thing, all alone in that old house. He must be so glad you’ve come.”

  Jared didn’t think Thimbletack was all that glad, but he didn’t say so.

  “Was Arthur your dad?” Simon asked.

  “Yes. Yes, he was,” she said with a sigh. “Have you seen his paintings in the house?”

  They nodded.

  “He was a wonderful artist. He used to illustrate advertisements for soda pop and women’s stockings. He made paper dolls for Melvina and me. We had a whole folder of them, with different dresses for each season. I wonder what ever happened to those things.”

  Jared shrugged. “Maybe they’re in the attic.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s been gone for a long time now. I’m not sure I’d want to see them anyway.”

  “Why not?” Simon asked.

  “Brings back memories. He left us, you know.” She looked down at her thin hands. They were trembling. “He went out for a walk one day and never came back. Mother said she had known he was going to leave for a long time.”

  Jared was surprised. He’d never given much thought to what Uncle Arthur was like. He thought of the stern, bespectacled face in the library painting. He’d wanted to like his great-great-uncle, who could draw and see faeries. But if what Lucinda said was true, then he didn’t like Arthur at all.

  “Our dad left too,” said Jared.

  “I just wish I knew why.” Aunt Lucy turned her head away, but Jared thought he saw the glint of tears in her eyes. She pressed her hands together to make them stop shaking.

  “Maybe he had to move for his job,” Simon offered. “Like our dad.”

  “Oh, come on, Simon,” Jared said. “You can’t really believe that load of crap.”

  “Shut up, morons.” Mallory glared at them. “Aunt Lucy, how come you’re in this hospital? I mean, you’re not crazy.”

  Jared winced, sure that Aunt Lucy would be mad, but she only laughed. His anger faded.

  “After Father left, Mother and I moved one town over to live with his brother. I grew up alongside my cousin Melvina—that’s your grandmother. I told her about Thimbletack and about the little sprites, but I don’t think she ever really believed me.

  “Mother died when I was only sixteen. A year later I moved back into the estate. I tried to use what little money there was to fix the place up. Thimbletack was still there, of course, but there were other things too. Sometimes I saw shapes skulking around in the dark. Then one day they stopped hiding. They thought I had Father’s book. They would pinch me and poke me and insist that I give it to them. But I didn’t have it. Father had taken it with him. He never would have left it behind.”

  Jared started to speak, but his aunt was lost in her memories and didn’t seem to notice.

  “One night the faeries brought me a piece of fruit—just a little thing—the size of a grape and red as a rose. They promised not to hurt me anymore. Stupid girl that I was, I took the fruit and sealed my fate.”

  “Was it poison?” Jared asked, thinking of Snow White and apples.

  “Of a fashion,” she said with a strange smile. “It tasted better than any food I’d ever imagined. It tasted the way I thought flowers might. It tasted like a song you can’t quite put a name to. After that, human food—normal food—was like sawdust and ashes. I couldn’t make myself eat it. I would have starved.”

  “But you didn’t starve,” Mallory said.

  “Thanks to the sprites who I played with when I was a child. They fed me and kept me safe.” Aunt Lucy smiled beatifically and stretched out one hand. “Let me introduce you. Come, my dears, come and see my niece and nephews.”

  Creatures the size of walnuts

  There was a buzzing outside her open window and what had seemed like floating dust in the sunlight suddenly became creatures the size of walnuts, whirring in on iridescent wings. They alighted on the old woman, tangling in her white hair and crawling up the headboard.

  “Aren’t they darling?” their aunt asked. “My sweet little friends.”

  Jared knew what they were—sprites, like the ones in the woods—but that didn’t make it any less eerie to watch them swarm over his aunt. Simon, however, seemed transfixed.

  Mallory spoke, breaking the hush that had settled over them. “I still don’t understand who put you here.”

  “Oh yes, the hospital,” said Aunt Lucy. “Your grandmother Melvina became convinced I wasn’t well. First she saw the bruises and then the lack of appetite. Then something happened. I don’t want to frighten you—no, that’s not quite true. I do want you to be frightened. I want you to understand how important it is for you to get out of that house.

  “See these marks?” The old woman held out one thin arm. Scars ran deep in her flesh. Simon gasped. “Late one night the monsters came. Little green things with horrible teeth held me down, while a giant one questioned me. I struggled, and their claws scraped my arms and legs. I told them there was no book, that my father had taken it, but nothing I said made any difference. Before that night, my back was straight. Ever since, I have walked hunched over
.

  “The marks were the final straw for Melvina. She believed I was cutting myself. She couldn’t understand . . . so she sent me here.”

  One of the faeries, clad only in a spiky, green seedpod, flew close and dropped a piece of fruit on the blanket near Simon. Jared blinked—he had been so wrapped up in the story, he’d nearly forgotten about them. The fruit smelled of fresh grass and honey and was enclosed in a papery skin, but underneath Jared could see the red flesh. Aunt Lucinda stared at it and her lips began to tremble.

  “For you,” said the little faeries in a unified whisper. Simon picked up the fruit and held it between his fingers.

  “You’re not going to eat it, are you?” Jared asked. Just looking made his mouth water.

  “Of course not,” said Simon, but his eyes gleamed greedily.

  “You’re not going to eat it, are you?”

  “Don’t,” said Mallory.

  Simon brought the faerie fruit closer to his mouth, still turning it. “One bite, just one little taste, wouldn’t hurt,” he said softly.

  Aunt Lucinda’s hand shot out and plucked the fruit from Simon’s fingers. She popped it into her mouth and closed her eyes.

  “Hey,” said Simon indignantly, jumping up. Then he looked around, disoriented. “What just happened?”

  Jared looked at their great-aunt. Her hands were shaking, even as she clasped them in her lap.

  “They mean well,” she said. “They just don’t understand the craving. To them it is only food.”

  Jared looked at the little faeries. He wasn’t sure what they knew or didn’t know.

  “But now you see why the house is too dangerous for you children. You must get your mother to understand, to leave. If they know you’re there, they’ll think you have the Guide, and they will never leave you in peace.”

  “But we do have the Guide,” Jared said. “That’s what we came here to ask you about.”

  Aunt Lucy gasped. “You can’t possibly—”

  “We followed the clues in the library,” Jared explained.

  “See, she does think we should get rid of it!” Mallory said.

  “The library? That means . . .” Aunt Lucy looked at him with dawning horror. “If you have the Guide, you have to get out of the house. Immediately! Do you understand me?”

  “The Guide’s right here.” Jared unzipped his backpack and took out the towel-covered book. But when he unwrapped it, the field guide wasn’t inside. They were all looking down at an old, worn copy of a cookbook, Microwave Magic.

  Jared turned to Mallory. “You! You stole it!” He dropped the backpack and went at her with both fists.

  Made their way into Arthur’s library

  Chapter Four

  IN WHICH the Grace Children Look for a Friend

  Jared pressed his face up to the car window and tried to pretend that he wasn’t crying. The tears fell, hot against his cheeks. He let them run down the cool glass.

  He hadn’t actually hit Mallory. Simon had grabbed his arms while Mallory kept insisting that she hadn’t taken the Guide. All the shouting had brought their mother in. She had dragged them out of there, with lots of apologizing to the nurse and even to Aunt Lucy, who had to be sedated. On the way to the car his mom had told Jared he was lucky the people at the institution didn’t lock him up.

  “Jared,” Simon whispered, putting his hand on his twin’s back.

  “What?” Jared mumbled without turning.

  “Maybe Thimbletack took it?”

  Jared swiveled around in his seat. His whole body went tense. The moment he heard it, he knew it had to be true. It was Thimbletack’s latest prank and his best revenge.

  His insides felt as though they’d been splashed with ice water. Why couldn’t he have figured that out for himself? Sometimes he got so angry that it scared him. It was like his mind went blank and his body took over.

  When they got home, he slid out of the car and sat down on the back steps instead of going into the house with his mother. Mallory sat down beside him.

  “I didn’t take it,” she said. “Remember when we believed you? Now you better believe me.”

  “I know,” Jared replied, looking down. “I think it was Thimbletack. I . . . I’m sorry.”

  “You think Thimbletack stole the Guide?” she asked.

  “Simon figured it out,” said Jared. “It makes sense. Thimbletack keeps playing pranks on me. This is just the worst one yet.”

  Simon sat down next to Jared on the stairs. “It’ll be okay. We’ll find it.”

  “Look,” Mallory said, picking at the hem of her sweater where a thread had unraveled. “It’s probably for the best.”

  “No, it’s not,” Jared said. “Even you should see that. We can’t give back what we don’t have! The faeries didn’t believe Aunt Lucinda when she said she didn’t have the book—why would they believe us?”

  Mallory scowled and didn’t answer.

  “I was thinking,” Simon said. “Aunt Lucy said that her dad abandoned them, right? But if the field guide was still hidden in the house, maybe he didn’t leave on purpose. She said he would never take off without it.”

  “Then how come the book was still hidden?” Jared asked. “If faeries captured him, he’d have told them where it was.”

  “Maybe he split before any faeries could catch him,” Mallory said. “Let Lucy catch all the heat. Maybe he knew about the giant thing.”

  “Arthur wouldn’t do that,” Jared said. As soon as he said it, however, he wondered if it was true.

  “Come on,” said Simon. “We’re never going to figure this out. Let’s go visit Byron. He’s probably hungry again, and it will get our minds off the Guide.”

  Mallory snorted. “Yeah, visiting a griffin living in our barn will definitely make us forget all about a book of supernatural creatures.”

  Jared smiled vaguely. He couldn’t stop thinking about the book, about Aunt Lucy and Arthur, and about himself and Mallory and the anger he didn’t know what to do with.

  Jared looked over at her. “I’m sorry I tried to hit you.”

  Mallory ruffled his hair and stood up. “You hit like a girl anyway.”

  “I do not,” Jared said, but he got up and followed her and Simon inside with a grin.

  An old, yellowed piece of paper was lying on the kitchen table. Jared took a step closer. A poem had been scribbled on it.

  “Thimbletack,” Jared said.

  Rash child who thinks he’s smart

  Wondering about your book?

  Maybe I’m tearing it apart

  Or hiding it where you won’t look.

  “Wow, he’s really mad,” said Simon.

  Jared was torn between relief and horror. The book was with Thimbletack, but what had he done with it? Had it really been destroyed?

  “Hey, I know,” Mallory offered hopefully. “Aunt Lucy’s jacks and marbles. We could leave them for him.”

  “I’ll write a note.” Simon turned over the paper and scrawled something on the back.

  “What does it say?” Mallory asked.

  Byron was sleeping.

  “We’re sorry,” read Simon.

  Jared eyed the note skeptically. “I’m not sure if that and a bunch of old toys will be enough.”

  Simon shrugged. “He can’t stay mad forever.”

  Jared was afraid he could do exactly that.

  Byron was sleeping when they went to check on him, his feathery sides heaving with each breath. His eyes darted back and forth beneath shut lids. Simon pointed out that they probably shouldn’t try to wake him, so they left another plate of meat by his beak and walked back to the house. Mallory suggested a game, but Jared was too nervous to do anything except try to figure out where Thimbletack could have hidden the Guide. He paced the living room, trying to think.

  Maybe it was like a riddle, with a way to solve the puzzle. He thought about the note again, turning it over in his mind, looking for clues.

  “It can’t be inside the walls.” M
allory sat cross-legged on the couch. “It’s too big. How could he get it in there?”

  “There are lots of rooms we’ve never even been in,” Simon said, perching next to her. “Lots of places we haven’t looked.”

  Jared stopped mid-stride. “Wait. What about right in front of us?”

  “What?” asked Simon.

  “In Arthur’s library! There are so many books up there, we would never notice it.”

  “Hey, that’s true,” Mallory said.

  “Yeah,” said Simon. “And even if the Guide isn’t there—who knows what else we’ll find.”

  The three went upstairs into the hall and opened the closet door. Crouching down, Jared crawled through the secret passage underneath the lowest shelf and made his way into Arthur’s library. The walls were lined with bookshelves, except for where a large painting of their great-uncle hung. Despite their many visits to the library, dust still covered most of the bookshelves, a testament to how few of the volumes had been inspected closely.

  Mallory and Simon scrambled in behind him.

  “Where do we start?” Simon asked, looking around.

  “You take the desk,” Mallory said. “Jared, you take that bookshelf, and I’ll take the one over here.”

  Jared nodded and tried to brush off some of the dust on the first shelf. The books were as strange as he remembered from previous trips to the library: Physiognomy of Wings, Impact of Scales on Musculature, Venoms of the World, and Details of Draconite. When Jared had first looked at them, however, there had been a kind of awe that was absent now. He felt numb. The book was gone, Thimbletack hated him, and Arthur wasn’t the person he’d imagined. It was a cheat—all this magic. It seemed so great, but underneath, it was just as disappointing as everything else.