Alfie the Werewolf 6: Werewolf Secrets

by Paul van Loon

  www.hodderchildrens.co.uk

  Copyright © 2007 Paul van Loon

  Illustrations copyright © 2007 Hugo van Look

  English language translation © 2011 David Colmer

  First published in The Netherlands under the title Weerwolfgeheimen

  by Uitgeverij Leopold in 1996

  Published by arrangement with Rights People, London

  First published in Great Britain in 2011 by Hodder Children’s Books

  This ebook edition published in 2011

  The right of Paul van Loon and Hugo van Look to be identified as the Author and Illustrator of the Work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  The publishers are grateful for the support of the Dutch Foundation for Literature.

  All rights reserved. Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form, or by any means with prior permission in writing from the publishers or in the case of reprographic production in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency and may not be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  A Catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978 1 44490 506 9

  Typeset in Weiss by Avon DataSet Ltd, Bidford on Avon, Warwickshire

  Hodder Children’s Books

  a division of Hachette Children’s Books

  338 Euston Road, London NW1 3BH

  An Hachette UK Company

  www.hachette.co.uk

  For Richard

  1

  A Mystery House

  ‘Holidays!’ Alfie yelled as he leapt out of the bedroom window. He rolled down the cottage roof, dropped over the edge and fell to the ground with a whoosh. High above him he could see stars and the full moon.

  ‘Wrow, Noura, what’s taking so long?’

  ‘Wraa! I’m coming.’ The next instant Noura landed on all fours next to Alfie. They grinned at each other, then ran into the forest.

  ‘Wrow, it’s beautiful here,’ Alfie growled. He already looked a little wolfish, with pointy ears and hairy hands. Noura nodded. She was changing too. Her nose had turned into a black snout.

  ‘It’s a great place for a holiday. And fantastic I could come with you.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘Grandpa Werewolf said we should come here: Mum and Dad, and Tim and me, and you too. He used to come here for his holidays when he was a young werewolf.’ In the distance Alfie saw the crest of a hill sticking up over the treetops. ‘I’ll race you to the top of that hill! I bet I beat you.’

  Noura laughed. ‘We’ll see about that.’

  Alfie shot off, zigzagging between the trees, and Noura raced after him. They leapt over thick trunks with ease, their shadows danced in the moonlight and leaves swirled up in the air. As Alfie and Nora ran, they changed more and more. Hands turned into paws with sharp claws. Noses and mouths turned into hairy snouts and muzzles. By the time they reached the foot of the hill, Alfie and Noura had transformed completely. They were all werewolf.

  ‘Wrow, can you keep up, Noura?’

  ‘Wraa! No problem, Alfie. Can you keep up with me?’ Noura tore off up the hill. Alfie laughed, ran after her and overtook her again. First one was in the lead, then the other. Sometimes Alfie was looking back laughing. The next minute, Noura was winking at him over her shoulder.

  Finally they reached the top of the hill neck and neck, threw their heads back and howled at the moon. ‘Woo-woo-woo!’

  ‘You won, Noura.’

  ‘No, I didn’t. You were first.’

  Alfie pointed. ‘Look, over there!’

  The pointy roof of a big dark building was visible beyond the trees.

  ‘Wrow, a mystery house! Shall we go and have a look?’

  ‘Are you brave enough, Alfie? Maybe it’s a ghost house.’

  Alfie hesitated for a moment. The house looked deserted and derelict. The kind of place ghosts would feel right at home in, he thought.

  ‘Of course, I’m brave enough, Noura. Maybe there are ghosts, but so what? We’re werewolves, aren’t we? Come on.’

  Cautiously they followed the path up to the front door. The night seemed to grow quieter and quieter. Bats fluttered around the chimney and the moon hung in the sky like an enormous searchlight shining down on the windows. The house was sagging, as if it was old and tired.

  Alfie took Noura by the paw and felt her sharp claws prick his skin. The hair on her fingers tickled his werewolf skin.

  ‘Who do you think lived here, Noura?’

  ‘I haven’t got a clue,’ Noura said. ‘Or maybe I do. I think it was Count Dracula, the famous vampire.’

  ‘Wrow! I thought he lived in Transylvania or somewhere like that.’ Giggling, Alfie climbed the stone steps to the front door, turned the doorknob and pushed. The door wasn’t locked. Creaking, it swung open …

  2

  Footsteps

  Behind the door was a long, seemingly endless hall. The moon shone in through tall windows, casting squares and rectangles of light on the floor.

  ‘Wrow, mysterious,’ Alfie said.

  ‘There’s nothing mysterious about it,’ Noura said. ‘It’s just an old empty house.’ She looked around. ‘It smells really ancient in here. Like an old people’s home. And that’s not very exciting. Shall we go?’

  ‘Wait. I know a fun game.’ Alfie stood on a square of light. Noura stood next to him and held his hand.

  ‘Jump!’ Alfie said, and they jumped through the darkness to land on the next square of light, their toe claws clicking on the tiles as they jumped from one to the next.

  In the exact middle of the hall was a door with a sign on it.

  ‘What’s WSO mean?’ Noura asked.

  Alfie shrugged. ‘No idea, but I think we’re unauthorized.’

  There were paintings hanging left and right of the door, portraits of men and women. The men all had striking sideburns, and so did the women!

  ‘They look very strict,’ Noura whispered.

  ‘Maybe they’re authorized,’ Alfie sniggered.

  ‘Shhh,’ Noura hissed suddenly. ‘Did you hear that?’

  Alfie listened. Something creaked in the distance. Creak.

  ‘It’s nothing, Noura. Old houses always creak.’

  Again there was a creaking sound, but closer this time, coming from the end of the hall. Then a cough. Footsteps: Stomp, stomp! It sounded like someone was coming up from a cellar. Noura gave Alfie a questioning look.

  ‘Do old houses cough and stomp too?’

  Alfie shook his head. ‘I … I don’t think so.’

  ‘Then we’d better hide … quick,’ Noura whispered.

  ‘Wrow, in here? Even though we’re not authorized?’

  Noura just nodded. Alfie pressed down the handle and the door opened.

  ‘Come on.’

  Quickly they slipped inside. Alfie closed the door carefully and listened. The footsteps in the hall grew louder. Stomp, stomp!

  ‘At least it’s not a ghost,’ Alfie whispered. ‘Ghosts don’t stamp their feet. They float along without a sound.’

  The footsteps stopped at the door. Alfie held his breath. The handle moved. Alfie’s eyes flashed round the room, spotting a big wooden chair with solid legs.

  ‘Quick, Noura, over there!’

  The door squeaked slightly open just as Noura and Alf
ie dived behind the chair. Alfie peered around the back of the chair and saw a dark, shadowy face in the doorway.

  ‘Are you in here?’ the stranger snarled.

  3

  The Secret Room

  The door opened further. Stomp, stomp! Alfie and Noura crept under the chair. Again they heard the angry voice – much louder this time.

  ‘Mooma doesn’t like practical jokes.’

  It was clearly a woman’s voice and from the sound of it she was standing right next to them.

  ‘You know the agreement. No sneaking around in the Secret Room. Otherwise Mooma will get in trouble with the WSO. And Mooma wouldn’t like that!’

  Alfie screwed up his eyes. Stomp, stomp! It sounded as if the woman was walking around the room. He felt Noura’s paw on his arm.

  ‘If you break the rules, you deserve to be punished!’

  Stomp, stomp!

  ‘And you know what that means! No full moon outing tonight. No, no, no. You’ll shiver in the icy cellar …’

  Noura’s claws dug into Alfie’s arm, almost making him growl with pain. He forced himself to stay still and wait in silence.

  ‘OK,’ said the voice after a while. ‘So there’s no one here! But if Mooma finds out you were here after all … You’ll catch it then, sweeties!’

  Stomp, stomp, and the door slammed shut.

  Alfie and Noura stayed motionless under the chair. It was only after a few minutes that Alfie dared move.

  ‘Wrow, who was that?’ he whispered. ‘Who was she talking to? And who’s Mooma? Is she Mooma?’

  Noura shrugged. ‘No idea. For a moment I thought she was talking to us.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘Me too. I was really relieved she wasn’t, because she doesn’t even know us. And we don’t know her. I don’t want to know her! She yells like a … big bully. And she’s as big as an ox. I don’t want to bump into her again. Let’s get out of here fast!’

  Noura didn’t answer. She was looking around thoughtfully. The room had tall windows with long velvet curtains and semi-circular fanlights above them. The moon was shining in through a fanlight. Here too there were paintings of men and women on the walls.

  ‘Look, Alfie. More authorized people.’

  Alfie grinned.

  ‘What’s so secret about this room anyway? Is it those paintings or …’ Noura stared at the wall opposite her. There were trees painted on it. Ten of them, with long thin branches reaching up to the ceiling. And there was something special about them.

  There were little boxes painted on the branches and inside the boxes there were names. Next to some of the names there were photos.

  ‘Hey, Alfie, see that?’ Noura whispered. ‘A wall covered with trees full of names and photos. Do you think they’re pedigrees?’

  ‘I don’t even know what a pedigree is,’ Alfie said. ‘I just want to get out of here.’

  ‘You know,’ Noura explained. ‘A family tree. So you can see who you’re descended from. I wonder whose—’

  Alfie tugged on her arm. ‘Wrow! Come on, Noura. Just forget about the pedi-trees. That big ox could come back any minute.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘No time, Noura. We have to go!’ Gently he pushed Noura out of the room. She looked back over her shoulder one last time, but Alfie quickly closed the door.

  They were back in the dark hall. Alfie looked left and right, but couldn’t see anyone. They couldn’t hear any footsteps either.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Alfie growled, running quickly to the front door. ‘Hopefully she hasn’t locked it.’ Alfie grabbed the doorknob, turned and pushed. The door wouldn’t budge. Shocked, he looked at Noura. ‘Just what I was afraid of.’

  At the other end of the hall a door squeaked.

  ‘Wrow, she’s coming. And the door won’t open!’

  4

  A Tall Figure

  Alfie pushed the door with his two front paws.

  ‘Wrow! Open up, you stupid door.’

  Noura glanced back. She heard a cough from the darkness at the far end of the hall. Then footsteps. Stomp, stomp!

  ‘Out of the way, Alfie.’ Noura laid a paw on the doorknob. ‘You’re not meant to push; you have to pull. Like this.’

  The door swung open on the inside and a stripe of moonlight appeared at their feet. Alfie blushed.

  ‘Wrow, stupid. I forgot.’

  Quickly they ran out, leaping down the stone steps and sprinting along the path and into the shadows of the big trees.

  ‘We’re safe here,’ Alfie growled. ‘At least, I hope so.’ Panting, he peered through the bushes at the house. They’d left the door open.

  A dark figure suddenly appeared in the doorway. Wild, bushy hair and a big, square body, wrapped in a dressing gown. It moved its head from left to right, eyes gleaming.

  For a second Alfie thought that the eyes had seen him and were piercing the darkness to stare at him. He heard heavy snorting and growling. Suddenly the figure turned and went back inside, slamming the door behind it.

  ‘Phew, that was close,’ Alfie said. ‘She looks like a big box on legs!’

  Noura nodded. ‘Let’s just get back to the cottage.’

  ‘Wrow, good idea. I’ll have to tell Grandpa Werewolf about this house. Maybe he already knows about it. This could end up an exciting holiday!’

  They turned and ran down the hill, further into the forest. The house was soon out of sight but they kept on running until they reached a small river that ran through the forest like a flowing silver ribbon. Panting, Alfie stopped, took off his glasses and wiped the lenses clean.

  ‘Do you think that big box saw us, Noura?’

  Noura puffed and tried to catch her breath.

  ‘I … I don’t think so. We got out of there pretty fast.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘That’s what I thought too.’

  They walked on, following the river. The murmuring of the water calmed Alfie down and made him forget about the bad-tempered woman.

  ‘It was great your parents let you come, Noura.’

  ‘Yeah, cool.’ Noura grinned at him. ‘Of course, they still don’t know I’m a werewolf. I think they don’t even believe in werewolves.’

  ‘Wrow, if only they knew!’

  Noura rubbed her muzzle thoughtfully. ‘I wonder what those family trees were, with all those photos.’

  Alfie growled. ‘Who cares about a boring old pedi-tree? The forest is full of trees.’

  Noura shrugged. ‘I just love secrets, Alfie. Especially mysterious ones. They make me really curious.’

  Alfie was only half listening. He’d suddenly got a strange feeling. A shiver ran down his back as if someone was watching him. He stopped and turned his head, then jumped.

  Standing on the other side of the river, with its shadow falling on the water, was a tall figure. Bent forwards and a little bit crooked, with a pointy nose and a sharp chin. It just stood there: dark, motionless, menacing …

  5

  The Rock

  ‘Pssst! Noura, look. There!’ Alfie pointed at the dark figure, which still hadn’t moved. It stood there like a statue in the light of the moon.

  ‘What’s that person doing over there?’ Alfie whispered.

  Noura stared across the river. ‘I don’t see anyone. Or do you mean that big rock?’

  Alfie looked again more carefully, then slapped himself on the forehead. Whack! Of course, Noura was right. It was just a rock.

  ‘Wrow! I’m being silly, Noura. I really thought I could see someone.’

  ‘It’s OK, Alfie,’ Noura said. ‘Sometimes I see things that aren’t there either.’ She pointed at the clouds floating past the moon. ‘Like mountains of ice cream.’

  Alfie looked at the river. It was shallow here and fairly narrow with lots of flat stones in the water.

  ‘I’ll just have a look anyway.’ He jumped on to the first stone and then the next one. In no time he was on the opposite bank.

  ‘Wait for me, Alfie. What are you doing?’ Noura followed
.

  ‘I just want a better look at that rock.’ Alfie moved closer. The rock was tall, round and pitch black.

  It’s just a big stone, thought Alfie. Why did I think someone was standing here? I’m going mad! He hesitated, then laid a paw on the rock. Immediately a strange sensation flooded through him. It felt like his insides were turning to ice. All at once he felt completely alone and very sad. So sad that it hurt.

  He jerked his paw back with a cry.

  6

  A Song

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Noura asked.

  Dazed, Alfie looked at her. He felt that his cheeks were wet.

  ‘I … I don’t know, Noura. The rock made me feel really awful. All alone.’ He shook his head. ‘It was horrible. I’ve never felt anything like it!’

  Noura stroked his head, leaning on the rock with her other paw. ‘Is it over now?’ Suddenly a shudder passed through her. She dropped to her knees and covered her face with her paws.

  ‘Noura, what is it?’ Alfie exclaimed. ‘Do you feel it too?’

  Noura’s shoulders jerked. ‘Pain in my heart,’ she sobbed. ‘Sorrow in my stomach.’

  Alfie swallowed. ‘That’s what I felt too. But it’s not real. It comes from the rock.’

  Noura sighed deeply, wiped her eyes and stood up again. ‘It’s a … weeping rock.’

  ‘Really?’ said Alfie. ‘I’ve never heard of anything like that.’

  ‘I just made it up,’ Noura said. ‘A rock that makes you cry is a weeping rock.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘Wrow, that’s true.’ He looked around and shivered. It felt so much colder all of a sudden.

  ‘Maybe it’s because of this spot. It’s so quiet here. It’s weird. You can’t hear a thing.’ He fell silent because suddenly he could hear something: a rustling, whispering sound coming from between the trees.