A flash of memory, armed with a fragment of her dream, charged in to her mind. She recalled the red-haired woman asking her name; the very same woman who was in the paintings. If Nova had painted the door then perhaps she had experienced the same dream?
Harmony considered for a moment whether she was starting to crack up. She dismissed the notion flippantly and leant forward once more.
Her lips hovered just above the keyhole. “My name is, Harmony Ryder.”
The lock clicked open...
Chapter 11
Return to dust...
Joseph ran through the living room. With the moonlight behind him he could just make out the devastation in Nova’s cottage. The treacle thick fog, which had made his approach to the house so difficult, was as dense inside as it was out. His boots crunched down on broken crockery.
As he entered the kitchen a foul odour invaded his senses. The rancid stench of decay stung his nose and made his eyes water. The revolting pong reminded him of an incident when, as a child, he found a dead badger in the woods.
A whimpering sound broke his recollection and his eyes searched the moonlit room for the source. His gaze fell on a heap of filthy rags. The shape lay against the wall. He moved a little closer and saw, through the wisps of mist, a foot poking out from beneath the soiled cloth.
The whimpering continued and the pile of rags shuddered. Joseph knelt down and laid a hand on the quaking cloth.
“Nova? Nova, it’s me, Joseph King,” he said, his voice sounding both soft and concerned.
“Little Joe?” Her voice was frail and distant.
“It’s ok, Nova. I’m here, everything will be ok now.”
He was doing his best to remain calm, at least on the outside. Inside he feared his stomach was going to abandon him.
“Is it still here?”
Her breathing was laboured and her hands clung to Joe's jacket sleeves as he helped her to sit up.
Joseph gasped as the moonlight touched her face. Several deep scratches marked her wrinkled cheek and she was bleeding from her mouth and nose.
“Is what here? Nova, what are you talking abo...”
He was cut off by a low, threatening growl from the darkest corner of the kitchen. Whatever had made the noise began to move toward him.
Joseph could hear a creature as it crushed the debris under its feet, inching closer through the shadows. It growled again and Joseph stood up. He turned to face the animal.
The beast moved slowly and deliberately, staying in the dark as much as possible. He could see that it walked on four legs and was the size of a very, very large dog. Despite the canine-features the creature possessed a pair of huge, bright-red eyes. The eyes shone in the dark as they watched him pick up a large baton of wood. Joe positioned himself between Nova and the monster.
“Joe...run. Just run you stupid boy,” Nova begged, her voice was weak and fading by the syllable.
Joe shook his head at her order and he braced himself. The stench grew stronger as the animal approached. Its growl was fierce now and it gave a last warning to the man.
He did not move. The creature launched at him, spreading its great mouth to expose row upon row of razor sharp teeth. The creature sunk its fangs into his arm and Joe let out a cry of pain.
Suddenly something hard and heavy smashed against the beast’s head. The animal released its hold on of Joe and turned in an instant to face a second attacker.
Martha stood in the doorway. She held a torch in one hand which she pointed at the monster again. It yelped and scurried backward as if the light inflicted pain. Desperately scrabbling to its feet the beast burst out of the kitchen windows and disappeared into the dark.
Joseph stared at Martha. She stood motionless in the doorway still pointing the torch at the window. “What was that?” she mumbled. Her voice squeaked as her question broke the silence.
“A wolf... I think?” Joe answered.
“Not a wolf,” Nova spluttered. “It was a Howler.”
Martha quickly moved to Nova's side. She thrust the torch into Joseph’s hand and instructed him to shine the light on Nova. Martha knelt down and began checking the wounds. With the skilful hands of a mother she did her best to stem the bleeding.
“Now you just hang in there, Nova,” she reassured as she cleaned the blood from the old woman’s face.
“I didn't have enough time,” Nova whispered.
“Hush dear. Try to save your energy.”
“No. It's too late.” Nova abruptly grabbed Martha's arm in a tight grip. “You, you must warn her. Keep her safe until she's ready.”
“Keep who safe?” Martha asked, staring into the old lady's terrified eyes.
“Tell her not to open...” Nova's voice was growing faint, life leaving her damaged body. “She mustn’t open the...”
Martha cried as the light slipped away from Nova's bright, grey eyes. Her last words entrusted to people who were overcome with grief and unlikely to grasp their true meaning.
Joseph crouched next to Martha. Her heaving sobs filling the roaring silence as she rocked Nova in her arms. His own gaze blurred with hot, salty tears.
He lifted one of her frail hands in his own. He had known her his whole life. Old-Nova had been like a grandmother to the entire village. Everyone only had good to say about her. How could something like this happen to someone so loving and kind?
“Oh my goodness,” Martha gasped. Her exclamation snapped Joe out of his sorrowful thoughts.
Joseph pointed the torch, still clasped in his hand, at Nova. What he saw both confused and astounded him. A brief glimmer of hope that she was still alive was instantly thwarted by the vision before him. Nova was crumbling... Her body was disintegrating. She was turning into dust!
Martha recoiled in abject horror as Nova disappeared leaving her arms holding the filthy rags she had worn. The dust vanished into the mist covered floor.
***
Rose's face was deathly white as the story came to a close. Joe's tale was, as he had warned, definitely strange and not very nice. It would have also been hard to believe if his arm didn't have the savage bite mark to prove his encounter with the creature had occurred.
“How can that be?” Rose questioned further. “How can she have crumbled like that? People don’t just dissolve into dust!”
“I don't know what happened,” he replied honestly. “I'm as confused as you, but it happened just like I said. We searched the woods for the dog or wolf…or whatever it was. But we found nothing, not even any tracks.”
Rose touched his hand and she smiled at him warmly through the tears in her eyes. She didn’t have an explanation for what happened. It was a bizarre story and needed further investigation. All the same she was grateful for what Joe had done. It was brave of him to race to Nova’s rescue. In her eyes he was a knight in shining armour.
“Thank you. From both of us,” she said, her words tinged with sadness and admiration.
“I’m sorry. What do you mean both of us? Who is us?” he asked.
“Oh. How silly of me. By us I meant Harmony and I. She’s my daughter, though most people think we’re sisters. Oh my god!” she suddenly exclaimed. Her eyes became wide. “Harmony's at the house alone and that dog is still on the loose!”
CHAPTER 12
Prowl and Howl
Harmony removed the lock and placed her hands on the lid. Excitement surged through her. She felt as though fate had conspired to bring her to this very moment. Now here she was, before the chest and whatever destiny it contained.
Seizing the chance to seek adventure she pushed on the heavy lid. The hinged-cover opened with a loud creak. Harmony winced as the noise sounded throughout the house. She held her breath and crossed her fingers, hoping the prowler hadn’t heard her. The silence pressed against her as she waited. When no response from the intruder was heard she exhaled and relaxed a little. Perhaps they had already f
led? It didn’t matter really. The trespasser would never find her in the secret room. Besides, she had better things to entertain herself with. Harmony returned her attention to the chest.
Upon opening the box, much to her disappointment, she found no gold, jewels or treasures of any kind. The dark, rectangular interior contained two objects and neither was all that interesting at first glance.
She beheld the lacklustre contents with a scowl. Ignoring the prickle of frustration she reached in and removed a cloth backpack and a small book.
Harmony deposited the bag on the dusty floor and focused on the paperback. Its dark, leather binding was very fragile and the pages were old and thin. The ink inside was faded with age which made the scribblings practically impossible to read. She thumbed through a few pages but ultimately lost interest in the illegible mutterings.
She placed the book on the floor and crooked her consideration toward the bag. Perhaps the sack would be more fruitful?
She opened the clasp and lifted the flap. The fabric was stiff, its weave dusty and not altogether compliant. Within she found a coil of pale, silver rope. The hoary cord was woven from fine threads, so thin they could have been mistaken for hair.
Harmony felt beneath the twine. Her fingers immediately brushed a hard surface, something more substantial than the rope. She retrieved a cold, metal medallion. The silver disk hung from an intricately woven chain.
She turned the charm over to examine the elaborate design more closely. On the front was an image of a roaring lion. The fearsome beast was surrounded with leaves.
On the back of the disk an inscription read:
For Nova. Long live The Grey Queen.
Harmony gazed at the dedication. Grey Queen she read again. The old woman who lived in this tumbled-down cottage was a queen? It’s just not possible.
Harmony couldn't and wouldn't believe it. It was ridiculous to even entertain the idea that her mysterious, great aunt was a monarch. There is only one Queen. She lives in London in a palace and not in a cottage in the Lake District.
“Stupid girl,” she mumbled aloud. She was feeling embarrassed she had become so caught up in what was obviously a mad-woman's fantasy world.
As she stuffed the rope and medallion, along with the delicate book, back into the bag a noise startled her. It sounded like someone was coming up the stairs.
She crawled over to the little door and poked her head through. The noise came again. The intruder must have heard her open the chest after all. Now he or she was coming to find her. Harmony’s only hope, she thought, was to frighten them; perhaps they hadn't realised she was here. Plucking up the courage she called out.
“Hello! Mum is that you?!”
Harmony smiled as the sounds abruptly ceased. Her idea had worked, they were startled. She decided to shout again, louder this time.
“I know you’re there! I can hear you breathing. I have called the police, so you had best scarper before they get here.”
This was a lie. She had not called the police but she hoped the threat would be enough to frighten them away.
The breaths became heavier. When no other response was offered she started to panic. They weren’t leaving... She quickly pulled her head back through the little door. Whoever was on the stairs was not scared. Instead they began to climb quickly. In seconds she heard them reach the top and begin crashing down the hall.
Harmony’s breath abandoned her. Without rhyme or reason she reached out and retrieved the golden doorknob. She snatched the gleaming handle from the socket and deposited it into the cloth bag. Without the handle perhaps the little door would make the intruder pass-out like it did her? A jolt of terror pulsed through her as a huge, black shape appeared in the doorway. A foul smell crept into the air. Harmony instinctively covered her nose and mouth.
The creature edged into the room. A hulking, black shape closely resembling a wolf slowly moved forward. Its thick, black fur was covered in glistening tar. Oozing drips puddled beneath its frame as the creature paused to sniff the air.
The monstrous beast had twigs and branches protruding from its back and legs, apparently caught in its dark, matted fur. The wooden shafts stuck out like porcupine quills.
The monster swiped one massive paw, embedded with claws like thorns. The foot scratched shards of shattered mirror out of its way. The wolf growled menacingly and it bared its sharp, yellowed fangs. Its barbaric teeth sat in perfect rows, like splinters of wood drenched in saliva, the tips stained with blood.
The beast lunged forward, its eyes wild with a murderous glow. Harmony scrabbled backwards. Her foot kicked out and connected with the little door, slamming it shut. As the wolf collided with the secured barrier a heavy thud and a howl of anger raged from the other side.
Harmony jumped to her feet. All that separated her from the beast was the little door. The wolf clawed at the wood and plaster as it tried to get through. She did not have long before it would be in there with her.
At once she searched around for an escape route but there were no other doors or windows. She was trapped, backed into a corner.
A cold drop of water landed on her neck. She looked upwards, surprised and displeased in equal measure. Immediately locating the source Harmony noticed a thin shaft of light. The scant amount of light shone through a gap at the edge of the strange contraption. She could just make out a blanket of dark rain clouds tumbling overhead.
“The funnel!” she exclaimed, a plan forming instantly in her mind.
She grabbed the backpack and slung the strap over her shoulder. Without wasting a moment she clambered onto the loom and ignored its groans of encumbrance.
The monster slammed against the wall, trying to force entry. The resultant shudder caused the stack of books to topple. They scattered and crashed down, knocking over the small candle in the process.
Harmony was much too preoccupied to notice the spilt flame. She reached up and wrenched on the copper funnel. The apparatus gave way easily. She felt a rush of hope; the cone was as old and rickety as it appeared to be. She yanked it out and dropped it onto the splay of books with a great clatter.
Beyond the door the scratching momentarily ceased. The respite was short lived and as it began again a renewed sense of urgency was evident.
The tiny flame had been quietly burning on his candle, however now he chose to reveal itself. Orange and bright he leapt from the white hot wick to an extremely dry and previously scorched book. Taming the Flame – A Beginner’s Guide to Pyromancy.
The flicker thought this to be a fitting title with which to fuel his blaze. He spread across the book, growing bigger and bigger, greedily licking and consuming the tinder-dry pages.
The sound of the door giving way to the stress of attack, coupled with the billowing smoke from the rapidly growing fire, urged Harmony through the small gap in the straw roof.
She emerged from the hole and pulled herself clear. A loud crash from inside indicated the wolf had finally broken through. Seconds later its head appeared, snapping and snarling at her feet as she attempted to manoeuvre across the rain-soaked thatch. Thick, white smoke was seeping through the straw, choking her as she fumbled for safety.
Harmony was terrified and in her panic she lost her footing. She snatched at the straw, fingers pulling out tufts but she knew it was pointless. With increasing speed she slid off the roof and tumbled out of sight. The wolf gave a howl of frustration as it watched her vanish. Fury burned in its eyes as it retracted its head from the gap and give chase.
Harmony landed with a painful bump. She touched down in the garden below the kitchen windows. She cast aside the pain and immediately jumped to her feet. The creature would be upon her in seconds. She had to find a place to hide.
The forest bordering the cottage looked to be a suitable place to escape to. Moreover Harmony was fairly confident wolves couldn’t climb trees. She sprinted toward the swaying trees.
<
br /> ***
Harmony ran. She didn't know where she was going but that didn't matter. The most important thing was staying alive. She needed to find an adult, anyone who could help her.
Her mind filled with alternative versions of this day. In one fantasy, Rose stayed and they fought off the monster together. In another she joined her mother to look for a shop and the beast found the cottage empty. Yet another saw her fling Nova’s letter back out the window and her life remained ordinary. Any of these was preferable to her current reality.
After about ten minutes of running a stitch in her side forced her to slow down. She rested behind a very large tree. She gasped to catch her breath, all the while watching for signs of pursuit. The pit-pat of raindrops splashing on leaves filled the forest.
Harmony’s breathing was almost level when the sound of a twig snapping heightened her senses. Something was close... A second twig broke, much closer this time. Comprehension dawned on her, she was being circled.
Two options came to mind. Firstly she could climb the tree and shout for help. The only downside being that help needed to be within hearing distance. Secondly she could run and try to make it back to the cottage. Hopefully the billowing smoke would have summoned some attention. With any luck she may find firemen armed with axes.
Another cracking-snap forced a decision. She sprinted away from the tree; her heart beating so hard she was sure the wolf would hear it.
Close behind leaves rustled and twigs broke. The beast was close and giving chase. She didn't dare look back, fearful that the sight would cause her to falter. She rushed on, dodging between trees and ducking under branches.
Rain streamed from the canopy. Fallen droplets blurred her vision and soaked her clothes as she sprinted through the trees. Seconds turned to minutes and still the beast had not caught her. Despite her reservations she had to look behind. She allowed herself a quick glance. There was no pursuer. Two more glimpses and she felt confident enough to slow down.
Still jogging Harmony looked around wildly. The trees seemed to be closing in on her; fear gave way to panic. She was lost. In her desperation to lose the wolf she hadn’t thought to map her path. The trees all looked alike. She had no idea how to get back to the cottage...
The Darkfern Lexicon Book 1 - Webway Page 8
