Into the Woods

by Lyn Gardner

  ‘Oh, they are remarkable. I’ve never seen anything like them,’ replied Aurora, delighted to get another opportunity to talk about the boy. ‘One of them is icy blue and the other is green as moss.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Storm thoughtfully, casting her mind back to the council chamber and the boy in the gallery who had seemed so helpful and offered her a seat. She hadn’t taken much notice of him, but she remembered that his eyes had been unusual too. Could it be the same boy? He had seemed so friendly.

  ‘Are you hiding something from me,’ asked Aurora suspiciously.

  ‘No,’ said Storm, and she hugged Aurora goodnight. If they had peered through the gallery window, they would have seen a lonely figure with mismatched eyes staring up at the house. But they were tired and they didn’t.

  Into the Woods

  The following afternoon Any was asleep and Storm was sitting in the window seat in the nursery turret, reading a mildewed copy of fairytales that she had discovered in the library, and happily picking the scab off her left knee – the result of a tree climbing accident the week before.

  Life didn’t get much better, thought Storm as she painstakingly teased the dried blood away to reveal the soft, pink itchy scar below. There were few things more pleasurable than a cracking version of Hansel and Gretel and a good scab. Aurora was downstairs preparing a special tea because Desdemona had unexpectedly and uncharacteristically obliged with eleven eggs that morning, and Storm had managed to persuade her sister that they should celebrate.

  They had eaten soft boiled eggs and soda bread soldiers for breakfast and Aurora had even let Storm have two of the eggs to make rock cakes. The rock cakes had lived up to their name as soon as they came out of the oven. After attempting to take one bite Aurora had refused to eat any more, saying that Storm’s hurt feelings would soon mend but broken teeth stayed broken. They had kept the cakes for Any to use as teething rusks.

  Storm looked out of the nursery turret window. A heavy mist was beginning to settle and the woods beyond Eden End looked more mysterious than ever. From her perch, Storm watched as a black coach and horses appeared over the horizon, disappeared from view, and then reappeared again, moving very slowly up the avenue of trees that led to Eden End. Squinting at the moving black blob and the horses with their black feathered plumes, Storm couldn’t quite believe her eyes. Then she realized what this all too real hallucination reminded her of: a hearse, perhaps the very same hearse she had glimpsed all that time ago in Piper’s Town. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle with sweat.

  Grabbing Any, who had been teething and grumpy all week and who immediately woke up and began to holler miserably, she raced down the 147 ½ steps of the nursery turret to the hall where Aurora had just wheeled the tea trolley laid with freshly made tea, egg and watercress sandwiches, freshly baked madeleines and rock cakes for Any. The mad dash left Storm panting for breath and a most unbecoming shade of beetroot.

  ‘Goodness, Storm, you are a most unbecoming shade of beetroot,’ said Aurora, looking up at her sister’s flustered face with real disquiet. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘We’ve got guests, uninvited guests,’ said Storm grimly.

  ‘Visitors?’ said Aurora, looking flustered. ‘Oh my goodness. It’s lucky that tea is all ready. I do hope there’s enough. I knew I should have made soda bread as well.’ She looked worried. ‘Maybe they’ll want something a little more substantial. I think I’ll just pop into the kitchen and heat up the rest of that nice nettle soup we had for lunch.’

  ‘Aurora, I’m not entirely sure—’ began Storm. But she was wasting her breath. Aurora was already in the kitchen wiping down the best china.

  Storm dashed to the window in time to see the black coach crawl under the arch at the entrance to the courtyard like a malevolent beetle. The vehicle’s driver – whom Storm recognized as Alderman Snufflebottom – halted the carriage. Its door creaked slowly open. From inside emerged a tall, thin, commanding figure, with an all-too-familiar scar. Dr DeWilde! Storm drew back behind the moth-eaten curtains to ensure she and Any could not be seen.

  The doctor very carefully side-stepped a patch of nettles growing up through the paving stones in the courtyard, and looked appraisingly around, a cruel and ravenous gleam in his eyes. If the gargoyles had not been made of stone, they would have recoiled from the ruthlessness in that face, Storm thought.

  Tabitha the cat and Desdemona the hen, sitting side by side in the courtyard, took one look at him and scarpered. Dr DeWilde reached into the carriage, withdrew his long, black, curved-handled cane. Then, followed at a respectful distance by Alderman Snufflebottom, he walked over to the huge wooden front door, raised the knocker and let it drop.

  An ominous sound, like a clap of thunder, echoed around Eden End and died away. Any slipped her little hand into Storm’s. She knew as well as her sister that this visitor was trouble – a dark shadow spreading over the quiet life that the sisters had made for themselves at Eden End.

  The sound of iron on iron rent the air again, followed by a silence so empty it was as if the world had taken a sharp breath. Then a frenzy of knocking began, louder than the loudest hailstorm. Storm’s hand instinctively slipped inside the neck of her dress: the pipe felt warm to the touch, like a hot potato on a blisteringly cold winter’s day. Somehow its presence made her feel protected. From somewhere in the kitchen she heard Aurora call impatiently,‘Answer that door, Storm. It’s rude to keep guests waiting.’

  Storm sighed. She knew this visitor was not going to go away. She walked slowly across the polished floor of the great hall to the old oak front door and reluctantly pulled back the twenty-seven bolts. As the door swung open she thought she heard thunder, just a backbeat.

  The man on the doorstep towered over her and Any, and he examined them like a particularly cruel cat observing a nest of defenceless mice.

  ‘So … you must be Storm and Any. My name is Dr DeWilde and I believe that you have something that belongs to me.’

  Storm knew instinctively that it was the pipe that he wanted. ‘And I believe that you are quite mistaken,’ she answered boldly, but perhaps a touch unwisely given the circumstances.

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. There was a silence that you could have fallen into and done yourself serious damage. A small trail of spittle ran down Dr DeWilde’s chin. He licked it away with a red tongue. Storm stared, both fascinated and repulsed. She felt sweaty and dizzy.

  Panicked, she moved to close the heavy door, but Dr DeWilde was too quick for her. He put his elegant black leather riding boot across the threshold, hooked the handle of his elegant silvertopped cane around Storm’s neck and pulled her close to his face. She could feel his hot, musky breath on her cheek. His eyes had a savage, feral look, and close up Storm realized that they were not green as she had first imagined, but dirty yellow, like two heavily polluted stagnant ponds.

  ‘Don’t make me lose my temper, young lady, you’ll only regret it,’ he hissed threateningly in her ear, making every word sound as if it had both a full stop and a capital letter. ‘Do as I say, or I will make life very uncomfortable for you, your sister and that brat,’ he added, nodding in the direction of Any, who was giving him the benefit of her very best scowl.

  ‘Don’t stand in the way, Storm! Let our guest come in,’ said Aurora, bustling in with a large steaming tureen of nettle soup and putting it down on the tea trolley. Then, completely oblivious of the exchange that had taken place on the doorstep, she walked forward and extended her hand.

  ‘Hello,’ she said cheerily. ‘I’m Aurora Eden.’

  Dr DeWilde bowed low and seized her hand. For a moment Storm wondered if he was going to bite it, but instead he raised it to his lips and kissed it. ‘Dr DeWilde at your service. Charmed, my dear, charmed. It has long been my desire to have the pleasure. So like your poor dear mother,’ he murmured.

  Storm thought she might throw up, but Aurora seemed unmoved by this revolting display of exquisite g
ood manners and simply turned a pretty shade of fuchsia.

  ‘You knew our mother? How wonderful! Do come in and sit down,’ she said with a charming little smile. ‘Make yourself at home.’ She waved her arm like a grand hostess.

  ‘Be assured that I will,’ said Dr DeWilde smoothly, and stepped boldly into the hall.

  ‘Would you like some tea?’ asked Aurora sweetly, ushering him into the dining room.

  ‘Delighted, my dear,’ said Dr DeWilde, and he leaned so close to Aurora that it seemed to Storm that his teeth almost brushed her sister’s pink cheek.

  ‘Or perhaps you’d like something a little more substantial ? Nettle soup?’ asked Aurora, picking up the ladle and pouring hot soup into a bowl.

  A look of horror passed over Dr DeWilde’s face and he went very pale. ‘Did you say nettle soup?’ he said faintly, and recoiled back into a chair.

  ‘Oh, it’s quite delicious,’ Aurora assured him. ‘Very delicate.’ And she pushed the steaming bowl towards him. Dr DeWilde leaped back to his feet as if stung.

  Aurora looked nonplussed. ‘It won’t hurt you. I promise.’ The doctor was backing away in horror.

  ‘Perhaps an egg and watercress sandwich instead, then?’ asked a flustered Aurora, passing the plate.

  ‘I don’t mind if I do,’ replied Dr DeWilde, recovering himself.

  ‘I’m afraid we can offer very little, but what’s ours is yours. You are our guest. Please help yourself to whatever you want,’ said Aurora.

  Storm, who had been watching this exchange open-mouthed, choked. ‘Don’t you see! That’s exactly what he intends to do,’ she shouted indignantly.‘Oh Aurora, can’t you see through this sham politeness?’

  Aurora turned an angry face towards her sister. ‘Storm, how could you be so rude to our guest!’ She smiled disarmingly at the doctor. ‘Do please forgive her, Dr DeWilde. She is very impulsive.’

  ‘That’s the trouble with the young,’ said Dr DeWilde indulgently. He gave a little cough. ‘Actually I did come here for a reason. Your sister is right, you do have something I want. Something that belongs to me in fact. A pipe. A mere trinket. I gave it to your mother for safekeeping many years ago. I always meant to reclaim it but, well, you know how it is. Life is busy. I never got round to it. And now she is dead, I would like it back. It is purely of sentimental value. But it means a lot to me.’

  Aurora started to open her mouth, but Storm interrupted. In an innocent voice as sweet and slippery as butter she enquired, ‘Pipe? What pipe?’

  ‘You know very well what pipe I mean,’ growled Dr DeWilde, and he rose to his feet and loomed over Storm.

  ‘Goodness! You’re not a man to stand on ceremony, are you, Dr DeWilde,’ said Aurora, looking flustered again. ‘Of course, if the pipe means so much to you, I’m sure Storm will let you—’

  ‘I don’t know anything about any pipe,’ said Storm fiercely. She was thinking of her mother’s warning not to let the pipe fall into the wrong hands, and she was in no doubt that Dr DeWilde’s hands were very wrong indeed.

  ‘Hand over the pipe!’ There was no mistaking the menace in his tone.

  Storm shook her head emphatically.

  ‘Don’t play games; or you’ll find that I don’t play fair,’ he snarled, and leaning forward, he snatched Any out of Storm’s arms. Bounding lightly up the stairs, he held the terrified baby over the gallery banister railings. Any wailed piteously, holding out her arms to Storm. Aurora gasped in horror. The drop to the solid hall floor below was a heart-stopping ten metres.

  ‘Please, no,’ she screamed, then turned to her sister. ‘Storm, please just give him what he wants!’

  Storm glared angrily at Aurora, but Dr DeWilde looked at her appreciatively and said, ‘Sensible as well as beautiful.’ He descended the stairs and handed Any back to Aurora.

  Aurora’s shoulders sagged with relief. She looked imploringly at her sister. ‘Please, Storm …’

  ‘No!’ said Storm fiercely.

  Dr DeWilde reached for Any again and she hid her little face in Ted Bear’s fur and clutched Aurora’s shoulder as if her life depended on it, which it did.

  Storm’s eye met Dr DeWilde’s and, just like in Piper’s Town, she felt as if he was trying to see inside her. His glinting look was like a dagger going right through her. She averted her gaze.

  ‘All right,’ she said sulkily. ‘I’ll have to go and get it.’ The pipe around her neck glowed hot against her skin.

  ‘Where is it?’ demanded the doctor greedily.

  ‘Upstairs,’ said Storm, and she turned as if to head up the stairs, but instead she grabbed the tea trolley and, disregarding Aurora’s cry, shoved it as hard as she could at the scarred man. The trolley rattled towards Dr DeWilde with the momentum of a speeding express train, caught him off balance and hit him hard in the stomach, winding him. Hot tea and nettle soup splashed everywhere and he recoiled from the liquid as if it was poison.

  ‘Run!’ shouted Storm. ‘Into the woods!’

  After a moment’s panicked hesitation, Aurora, holding Any tightly, made a break for the door. She pulled it open and rushed straight into the arms of Alderman Snufflebottom. He held her as if she was a butterfly that he could easily crush with a mere flexing of his hand.

  Storm looked desperately around for a weapon. Her eye alighted on the pile of rock cakes. She picked up one in each hand and flung them at the alderman. The first struck him a glancing blow on the forehead, but the second was a direct hit to the nose. A third also scored a bullseye.

  Snufflebottom let go of Aurora, his eyes watering, his face turning puce, and let out a holler of pain. Any, who was holding Ted Bear in one hand and her starry blanket in the other, took the opportunity to lean forward from Aurora’s arms and bite him hard on the chin. Spurts of bright red blood formed around the perfect imprint of her sharp little teeth. Aurora looked quite shocked.

  ‘Any, darling, we don’t eat visitors – even if they are uninvited.’

  The alderman rocked slightly on his feet, like a tree whose trunk has just been cut through, and then his burly body keeled over. Storm had to suppress the urge to yell ‘Timber ! ’

  The children stood stunned for a second, surveying the chaos around them. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Storm saw Dr DeWilde recovering himself – a wild, dangerous gleam in his eye that did not bode well for the children.

  ‘No, Aurora, I don’t think we should stay to tidy up,’ said Storm firmly, pocketing the remaining rock cakes and pushing her sister past the alderman’s body and out of the house. They ran across the park, hardly daring to look back, expecting at any moment to hear the thunder of feet behind them and heavy, threatening hands on their shoulders.

  ‘Shall I go after them, Doctor?’ asked the dazed alderman fearfully, embarrassed that he had been outwitted by a gaggle of children, girls at that.

  ‘No, Snufflebottom,’ said Dr DeWilde grimly, watching the children flee. He knew that if he wanted to, he could catch them easily, but he enjoyed the idea of toying with them for a little longer. ‘I have possession of the house. We must find the pipe. The girl said it was upstairs. It will be here somewhere. I can deal with the children later.’ Dr DeWilde gave an unpleasant little smile. ‘I very much look forward to meeting them again. They won’t get away from me a second time. They are children, and children are always broken to my will.’ He laughed, a creaky, cruel sound, like a door that badly needed oiling.‘I think I’ll just give them a little scare.’ He turned to Alderman Snufflebottom and licked his lips like someone savouring a particularly delicious thought. ‘Release the wolves. Just two or three. Enough to let them know that I mean business.’

  Danger! Wolves!

  Deep in the woods beyond the park, Storm, Aurora and Any huddled under a tree, shivering. It was getting dark and they were lost. After the adrenaline rush of the escape from Eden End they now felt small, frightened, and very alone. Mist was rolling in across the forest floor like a damp, white shroud and the undergrowth rustl
ed constantly with the movement of things unseen.

  Storm knew that Aurora and Any were exhausted and close to tears, and she could see from her sister’s face that Aurora doubted the wisdom of actions that had left them out in the cold dark woods, and with strangers in control of Eden End.

  ‘What are we going to do, Storm?’ Aurora asked.

  Storm dared not admit that she didn’t have a clue. She wished she could tell her sister about what had happened in Piper’s Town, then Aurora would have understood why they had had to run. But she knew that now wasn’t the right time for Aurora to be reminded of Storm’s previous adventures and of just how reckless she could be.

  Storm felt in her pockets, wishing she had a compass, but her fingers only encountered a twist of gunpowder, a taper, a small metal file and a half-eaten peppermint toffee. She wondered whether she should have just let Dr DeWilde have the pipe. Maybe he would have left them alone after that. But she doubted it. There was something so ruthless about the doctor that she could not imagine that she or her sisters would ever be safe again. Storm shivered. She knew that he would hunt them down. Particularly when he realized that the pipe was not at Eden End, but around her neck. She had to find them help and a place of safety without delay.‘We need to get to the road that will take us to the town and shelter,’ she decided.

  ‘But which way is that?’ asked Aurora with more than a hint of despair.

  Storm wasn’t sure. She was tired and disorientated, but she knew she couldn’t betray indecision to Aurora and Any. She set off down a narrow overgrown track.

  Soon the children were trudging along miserably, the low branches of the trees tugging at their arms. It had begun to snow heavily and the silence was eerie, as if a blanket had been thrown across the world. With every step the undergrowth seemed to become denser and the trees more closely packed.

  It was a struggle for the sisters to put one foot in front of the other without snaring their clothes on brambles, and Storm’s hands and arms were getting badly scratched from trying to clear a path.