Stella spied the cork from the bottle, lying on the floor under the workbench. She looked at the Professor, but he did not see her; he was staring up at the smoke.
She crept over behind him, her eyes on his back. She bent quickly and snatched up the cork. She unfolded the cuff of her coat sleeve and let the thick fabric fall over her hand.
The creature in the smoke seemed to be struggling to free itself. Its enormous head and long neck writhed and twisted.
The Professor’s face was alight with hope. ‘Sorcerer. Hear me,’ he said. The figure lifted its head. Its face was still half-formed, smoky and changing. It opened its wide mouth and roared.
Stella darted around the Professor and reached for the bottle, the sleeve of her coat protecting her hand from the freezing cold. At the same time, Gert flung herself at the Professor and grasped his arm. He struggled with Gert, threw her aside with a curse and seized Stella, but his injured hands were weak and she twisted away from him and reached again for the bottle. He pushed her roughly away, turned the ring on his finger and shouted, ‘Boy! Keep them back!’
Ben grabbed Stella’s arm and dragged her away from the workbench. His face was set and pale.
‘Let me go,’ she gasped.
He took a breath, with obvious effort, and whispered, ‘I can’t.’ He tried to say more, but no words came. He shook his head. His eyes were on the ring on the Professor’s finger.
Then Stella understood. The Professor turned the ring on his finger each time he gave Ben an order. The ring with the dark stone. She pulled free from Ben’s grasp, flung herself onto the Professor and clutched his arm. He cursed again and struck her hard on the side of her head, but she clung onto his wrist and managed to wrench the ring from his finger.
‘No!’ he shouted.
She threw the ring onto the floor and stamped on it with the heavy nailed heel of her boot. It made a satisfactory crunch. The stone shattered and a few dark red drops stained the stone floor.
Ben gave a gasp and staggered. He looked bewildered. ‘It’s gone.’ He put his hands to his head. ‘It’s gone,’ he said again.
‘Hold her back, boy!’ shouted the Professor.
Ben stepped back and stood up straight. He took a deep breath and said, ‘No.’
The Professor spoke, but his words were lost as the smoke figure roared again. They looked up. It was enormous. A tall, twisting column reaching almost to the ceiling. The face glared down at them from the shadows, its eyes like gas lamps, its mouth a gaping cave of teeth.
‘Sorcerer. Hear me,’ said the Professor.
The figure twisted its head from side to side and howled again.
‘Sorcerer. It is I, Aloysius Starke.’
The Professor’s voice was drowned in the rushing wind. Glass jars fell from the shelves and shattered on the floor. The candles flickered and went out.
Stella saw another chance, snatched up the cork again and darted forward. The Professor lunged at her and dragged her away. She struggled free from him and seized the bottle. The billowing smoke filled her mouth and eyes. She coughed. She could not see. Even through the thick fabric of her coat sleeve, the bottle froze her hand. She gritted her teeth and tried to force the cork back in. The Professor grabbed her. He clasped her around the chest, pinning her arms, and lifted her off the ground. She struggled and kicked. But he was too strong. He started to prise her fingers from the bottle.
Ben and Gert flung themselves at the Professor, making him stagger. His grip loosened. Stella wriggled free. She darted around the workbench and ducked down into a narrow space behind a tall cabinet. She crouched there, hidden, gasping, struggling to push the cork into the bottle. It was difficult; her hands were frozen and her eyes were full of smoke.
She heard scuffles and thumps. Gert cried out. Something fell and shattered.
Stella gritted her teeth, ignored the freezing ache seeping into her fingers and forced the cork into the bottle.
From the darkness above came a deafening howl. The door broke open with a crash, and the room was full of rain and wind and the sound of waves.
‘No!’ screamed the Professor, his voice cracking with fury. He spun around.
Stella shrank back into the shadow, desperately hoping he would not see her. She felt her head swim, as if she were fading and dissolving into the darkness. The Professor lurched towards her. She froze. His gaze seemed to focus beyond her. As if he could not see her. As if she were not there at all.
He reached for her, his fingers clutching blindly at the air. His groping hand met her neck. She felt his fingers pass through her, scrabbling against the wall, clasping only air.
He recoiled and gasped. His wide eyes stared right at her, but somehow he did not see her. She felt as if the room were spinning and she were fading away. He reached out towards her again.
Ben thumped into him. The Professor fell and struck his head on the workbench.
Ben grabbed Stella’s arm and pulled her to her feet. He had a canvas bag under his arm and he was tucking Shadow into the neck of his coat.
‘We got to get away,’ he said.
‘But —’ She felt dizzy.
‘Come on,’ said Gert.
Ben pulled her towards the door.
The smoke serpent howled again.
The Professor lurched to his feet, arms outstretched, fingers clutching.
Stella ducked under his grasping hands.
‘Come back,’ he groaned. ‘Give it to me.’
Stella pushed the silver bottle into her coat pocket and buttoned the flap as she turned and ran.
Outside, the icy wind and rain knocked the breath out of her. It was almost dawn. The sky was a leaden grey with streaks of yellow. The causeway stretched away towards the shore, gleaming in the murky light.
Gert was very pale and shaking with cold. Ben pulled off his coat and helped her into it. She winced as she pushed her injured arm into the sleeve.
‘We got to run,’ said Ben, looking out at the causeway. He held Shadow safe under his shirt with one hand, the other clutched his canvas bag under his arm. ‘There ain’t much time. Tide’s turning.’
‘Can you do it?’ Stella put her arm around Gert.
Gert bit her lip, but nodded resolutely.
They scrambled down the steps and started out along the causeway. The flagstones were broken and uneven, draped with seaweed and spiked with clusters of mussel shells. Deep, dark water swirled at either side. Stella’s boots slid on the wet flagstones. The rain plastered her hair to her face. The wind buffeted them. She and Gert clung together. It was difficult to keep upright.
A huge white-capped wave broke across the causeway. Water swirled around their ankles. Stella tripped and almost fell. Ben slung his bag over his shoulder and took her hand. They splashed through the icy water, slipping and stumbling.
Ahead, through the spray, Stella could see the shore, a dark blur on the horizon. Gulls sailed past, crying. The air was full of flying spray. Salt burned her throat. She coughed, choked and gasped for air as she ran.
Another wave broke over the causeway. The swirling water reached their knees. They waded through, struggling to keep their balance. The water pulled at Stella’s legs. Her boots felt as heavy as stones, and her wet clothes clung to her, weighing her down. They ran on.
Stella stopped for a moment, panting, and looked back towards the tower. She felt her insides lurch. The Professor was coming. He was on horseback, riding quickly, galloping along the causeway, a dark shape crouched low over the horse’s neck. Spray flew up from the horse’s hooves.
Ben looked back. ‘Run,’ he gasped.
They ran headlong, gasping for breath, splashing through water, stumbling over slippery flagstones. The shore was in sight, but behind them the sound of the horse’s hooves came closer and closer.
Ben glanced back over his shoulder and his foot skidded on seaweed. He screamed as he fell off the edge of the causeway. He hit the swirling water with a huge splash and went under.
/> Stella and Gert flung themselves down, scraping their legs on the spiky mussel shells. Ben was struggling, swallowing water. His eyes were wide with panic. Stella grasped his slippery wet hand and hauled him back. He scrambled onto the causeway, clutching Shadow to his chest, coughing and spluttering, breath rasping. They pulled him to his feet.
‘Come on,’ gasped Stella.
But it was too late. The Professor’s horse was there, above her. It seemed enormous, stamping and blowing. The Professor leaned down and reached for her with clawing fingers. His spectacles were gone, and his eyes glinted like wet pebbles.
Another wave crashed across the causeway, almost knocking her from her feet.
The Professor clutched her arm. She struggled and managed to twist herself free.
‘GIVE IT TO ME!’ he screamed.
He grabbed her again.
Ben tried to pull her away.
There was a roaring, louder than the wind.
Gert yelled.
The Professor looked behind and shouted something, but Stella could not hear his words. He let go of her, raised his arms and shouted again.
A huge wave crashed across the causeway. It lifted them all from their feet and tumbled them over and over. Stella could not breathe and she could not see. She collided with a submerged rock. Desperately struggling to get her face above the surface, she managed to gulp a mouthful of air, but then she was under again. She could not feel the ground. Her lungs were bursting. She was sinking, drowning.
A huge pale shape appeared out of the darkness below her. It swam past at tremendous speed. Stella was whirled around, swept along and dragged across sand and shingle. Icy waves crashed and swirled. She gasped for breath and choked on saltwater and smoke.
An enormous creature was in the water with her. It cut through the waves smoothly, like a gigantic fish. She had a glimpse of a vast head on a long, long neck, rising up from the water. A mouth opened above her, impossibly wide, and roared. A blast of icy smoke slammed into her. Everything was a confusion of smoke and saltwater and spray. Then she was underwater again.
She fought to the surface and saw the Professor clinging to the causeway. He lifted a hand to the enormous serpent that reared above him. It roared. Then, like a striking snake, it swooped down and swallowed him.
The causeway was empty. The Professor was gone.
Stella was pulled under again. The water churned and crashed. She could not breathe. Her lungs were burning. A wave lifted her and threw her down onto sand and pebbles. She struggled through the swirling water towards the shore until she was on her hands and knees in the shallows.
Out to sea, the enormous ghostly serpent arched through the waves. It roared again. As Stella watched, tendrils of smoke curled from its body and blew away. For a moment, she could still see the huge creature, diving through the waves, swimming away, out to sea. And then it became only silver smoke that swirled and drifted apart and dissolved into the air and was gone.
Stella was shivering with cold, frozen, dizzy and exhausted. Her whole body was aching. She heard coughing. Gert was floundering in the water. Stella pulled herself to her feet and staggered back into the sea to help her. They stumbled up the shore away from the crashing waves, panting and shivering.
‘Look,’ said Gert.
Further along the beach lay a dark shape. They hurried over. Ben was on his back, his face white, his eyes closed. There was a nasty-looking purplish graze on his forehead. Shadow mewed anxiously and pawed at his closed eyes.
‘Ben?’ said Stella.
He did not answer. She touched his face. He stirred and muttered something. His skin was cold. She shook him.
‘Wake up.’
He opened his eyes, said, ‘What?’ and shut them again.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We have to go and get help.’
His eyes fluttered open and he looked at her without recognition.
‘It’s me, Stella,’ she said. ‘And Gert.’
‘Stella.’
They took his arms and pulled him to his feet. He staggered and bent over, his hands on his knees.
‘You all right?’ asked Gert, patting his back.
‘Can you walk?’ asked Stella.
‘Reckon,’ he said, and stood up shakily. He staggered again. ‘Maybe.’
Shadow climbed up onto Ben’s shoulder. She made some encouraging chirruping noises and bit him on the ear.
Stella took Ben’s sodden canvas bag and slung it over her shoulder. She felt in her pocket. The silver bottle was still there. She looked about, shielding her eyes from the rain. It was almost daylight. The causeway was nearly underwater again. Further out to sea, waves crashed around the island, throwing spray into the air.
They had to find shelter. But where? ‘Come on,’ she said. She took Ben’s arm.
The wind felt like ice. They trudged along the beach, leaning against each other, wet through and shivering. Ben’s eyes were closed. He stumbled. Stella put her arm around him. ‘Stay awake,’ she said.
Her wet hair blew across her face. She pushed it back and blinked the rain out of her eyes.
Further along the beach, a figure was approaching.
Stella tried to call out, but her head was so light it felt as if it were floating, and only a croak came out of her throat.
The figure was waving. Small shapes circled it, separate and flickering.
Stella tried to call again.
She heard someone shout, and she could see the figure coming closer, but it seemed enormously far away and spinning strangely.
Then there was darkness.
Stella swam up out of a dream and heard music.
She opened her eyes. She was lying in a narrow bed, covered with blankets, in a tiny room. A hot brick was against her feet. The music came from somewhere nearby. It sounded familiar, like a steam organ with many wheezing, wailing pipes. She swallowed. Her mouth tasted of orange peel and herbs.
She sat up and looked around, feeling bewildered and dizzy. The room was full of dark wood and shining brass. There were two bunk beds, one above the other. The ceiling was curved and painted with leaves and flowers. Copper pans dangled from hooks overhead. A small stove surrounded with rose-patterned tiles stood under a carved mantelpiece. Wire cages and woven baskets were piled in a corner. Weak sunlight slanted in through a small window.
Where was she? She felt for the silver bottle in the pocket of her coat, but the coat was gone. She was wearing a linen nightshirt, much too large for her. The sleeves flapped beyond her hands. Where were her clothes? Where was the silver bottle? And where were Gert and Ben?
She climbed stiffly out of the bunk bed. Everything ached. She went to the window and looked out. Shingle sloped towards the sea. Not far away, a seagull glared at her from a large rock. In the distance, sunshine sparkled on white-flecked waves around the island.
She tiptoed across the room to the door and opened it silently. Stepping outside, shading her eyes against the daylight, she halted, astonished. She was at the doorway of a beautiful wagon parked on the shingle. Three steps led down to the ground. She climbed down. The wagon was painted red and blue and gold, and on the side, in curling gold letters, was written: Signor Capelli’s Educated Cats. Astonishing Performances.
Nearby, a large driftwood fire was burning. Clothes on a line flapped in the breeze. Two horses cropped the spiky grass that grew beside the seashore.
Mr Capelli was standing by the fire, playing his violin. His seven cats were perched on stones around him and they were singing. Ben and Gert sat beside the fire, wrapped in blankets, eating soup. Shadow was on Ben’s shoulder, watching the other cats. She made an experimental squeaking mew, and Mr Capelli smiled at her, nodded and said, ‘Si, si, little one. Most beautiful.’
Ben looked up, saw Stella standing beside the wagon and grinned.
Gert waved a spoon at her. She said, ‘You’re up.’
Mr Capelli stopped playing and turned around. ‘Stella Montgomery,’ he said. ‘It is m
ost splendid to see you again.’ He laid down his violin and bustled over to her. ‘You are well? Your head? Your heart? Your limbs? You are not entirely frozen?’
‘Yes, I mean no. Thank you. But —’
Alfredo trotted towards her with his tail pointing straight up. She bent and patted him. Several more cats came and twined around her legs. She stroked them all.
‘Here.’ Mr Capelli wrapped a red blanket around her shoulders and guided her towards the fire.
‘Sit here,’ said Gert, patting a stone between her and Ben.
‘You will have some fish soup?’ Mr Capelli ladled soup into a bowl from a steaming pot beside the fire and pushed it into her hands.
‘Thank you, Mr Capelli,’ said Stella. ‘But how —’
‘He followed the Professor,’ said Gert.
‘Yes, yes,’ said Mr Capelli, nodding and waving the ladle emphatically. ‘That is true. Yesterday, I saw you on the stage with the Professor. That boy is the little Stella Montgomery, I thought. I was most astonished. And then he put you in that box and you disappeared. I could not find you. I tried to talk to the police, but they would not understand me. They would not listen. And so I watched the Professor and I followed him here, late at night, all the way over the marsh. But it was dark and the weather was most dreadful. Such a storm! I lost him. So I waited here until morning. And then I saw you there on the beach.’
‘You were cold as a codfish,’ said Gert with a giggle. ‘We rubbed you down and wrapped you up and Mr Capelli shoved tonic down your throat and we put you to bed.’
Stella swallowed a mouthful of soup. It was hot and salty and delicious. She was extremely hungry. She took another spoonful and asked, ‘How are you? Are you all right?’
‘Look,’ said Gert. She showed Stella a bandage on her shoulder and flexed her arm. ‘Mr Capelli fixed me up, right and tight.’
‘Does it hurt?’ asked Stella.
‘Not a skitch,’ said Gert.
Stella turned to Ben.
‘I’m prime too,’ he said with a grin. On his shoulder, Shadow made a high-pitched squeaking noise and bit his ear. He stroked her head with his finger.
Withering-by-Sea Page 13
