Mirabelle
‘I showed her around,’ said Mirabelle.
She was standing in Uncle Enoch’s study with her arms folded. Enoch was sitting behind his desk perusing some papers covered in arcane symbols and runes. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.
‘Really? How very kind of you, Mirabelle.’
Mirabelle stuck her chin out defiantly.
‘I showed her everywhere. I showed her the Room of Lights. I took her to feed the flowers. I even showed her the Room of Knives. I told her all about the Family.’
Enoch sighed. ‘Mirabelle, I have quite a bit of work to do concerning the Glamour, and this—’
‘They’re not from the village, but that doesn’t mean we should turn our backs on them. We shouldn’t turn our backs on anybody who needs our help. And nobody should have to put up with the likes of Daisy.’
She stopped talking because Enoch was staring at her now, a curious expression on his face.
He stood up slowly and went to the window and looked out with his hands clasped behind his back. A moment passed. Mirabelle could feel the tension and silence begin to swell, until finally Enoch spoke.
‘You’re right, you know; we shouldn’t turn anyone away.’
Mirabelle wasn’t sure what to say. She’d expected Enoch to be enraged, even hoped he’d be angry, but his muted response had completely flummoxed her. Enoch kept looking out of the window.
‘I’ll be going to dinner soon. I need to get some reading done before then.’
‘Yes, Uncle,’ said Mirabelle, knowing she was dismissed, but feeling a strange sense of loss now that her fury was dissipating.
As she turned to go, he spoke again.
‘So you told her everything about us?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you tell her that her kind used to hunt us?’
‘Yes.’
‘And that we used to hunt them too?’
Mirabelle bit her lip.
‘No,’ she said quietly, looking at the floor.
‘Mirabelle.’
The sound of the pendant hitting the desk caught her attention. Enoch had already turned back to the window. Mirabelle picked up the pendant.
‘Thank you, Uncle.’
Enoch merely nodded.
Mirabelle walked out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. She was still bemused by her uncle’s reaction. She’d expected him to explode with anger after her confession, and she certainly hadn’t expected to get her pendant back. She also felt a twinge of guilt over not having told Jem the full family history.
A mirror shimmered on the wall to her left, glowing with a grey nebulous fog that brightened to a sparkling whiteness as Odd’s head popped out of it.
‘Hullo,’ he said, grinning at her. Then he frowned as if suddenly remembering something. ‘Hold on, just give me a sec.’
His head disappeared back into the mirror, reappearing a moment later as he clambered out. He climbed down using the lip of the mirror as a handhold then, when he had his feet on the ground, he shoved his hand under the mirror’s surface, felt around for a bit, then pulled.
Daisy came flying out of the mirror and hit the floor in an ungainly tangle of limbs. She jumped up, looking furious as she patted her pinafore down and fixed her hair. She then stomped off down the hallway, glaring at Mirabelle as she passed her.
‘You’re welcome,’ Odd shouted after her.
‘You’ll be sorry,’ Daisy growled, wheeling back round to glare at Mirabelle again.
‘I am sorry,’ said Mirabelle.
‘You will be,’ Daisy snarled, disappearing round a corner.
‘I am!’ Mirabelle shouted.
Odd looked amused. ‘Was that an apology?’
‘No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know,’ Mirabelle snapped. She noticed some items had dropped out of Odd’s pocket after clambering out of the mirror. There was a marble, that arrowhead he’d shown her previously and the golden necklace again. He picked them up and looked sheepishly at her as he put them back into his pocket.
He nodded at her hand. ‘I see you got your pendant back.’
‘Enoch gave it to me.’
Odd frowned. ‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘That was rather forgiving of him.’
Mirabelle wanted to say that she was surprised, that Enoch was acting strangely and that she’d expected something else from him. Anger perhaps. Rage. But she had recognized something in him. Something she’d seen today in the human girl, Jem, but only rarely before in one of the Family. He seemed sad.
‘Do you think something’s wrong with Enoch?’ Mirabelle asked.
Odd looked slightly taken aback by the question. ‘What?’
‘Do you think he seems . . . I don’t know . . . sad?’ Odd licked his lips and considered the question.
‘Sad?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I suppose he might have something to be sad about. Maybe he’s finally come to terms with the fact that he’s a little too full of his own self-importance. Perhaps he’s beginning to bore himself to death with his ideas of tradition and—’
‘Odd, please. Be serious for once.’
Odd chuckled and avoided looking directly at her.
‘Odd?’
Odd shook his head. ‘It’s probably just the tear in the Glamour. It’s a concern for him. That’s all.’
He looked at her now, and he was smiling, but Mirabelle got the strange sense that the smile was little more than a mask, and if she waited a moment longer it would crack.
‘I really have to go now, Mirabelle.’
Mirabelle nodded. ‘Don’t go too far.’
‘I won’t. Maybe I’ll just take a quick jaunt to Mongolia.’
‘Aren’t you going to the feast tonight?’
Odd patted his stomach. ‘I’ve already eaten.’
He winked at her, then stepped quickly into a portal that had appeared behind him. The portal popped out of existence.
Mirabelle was left alone in the hallway, an after-image of Odd’s pale face playing in front of her. He’d seemed happy enough until she’d brought up the subject of how Enoch was feeling. Something about his reluctance to talk about it made her suspicious.
And there was no mistaking the brief look of relief on his face just before the portal had disappeared.
Piglet
A stillness lies over the house now. Piglet can feel it. But it is a stillness like a taut bowstring that has been wound too tight. Very soon it will snap.
When it does, Piglet knows that everything will be changed.
Changed forever.
Jem
Jem was woken by a noise in the dark.
It had sounded like a soft thumping, and she lay there clutching the blanket while she waited and listened.
The sound didn’t come again, and Jem started to relax. She could feel her pulse rate returning to normal and she was about to turn over on the couch when she realized something was missing.
She listened hard again, and then knew exactly what it was.
The sound of another person breathing in the dark.
Jem threw off the blanket, leaped off the couch and ran towards the bed. Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark, so she thrust her hands out to feel for her brother.
But Tom was gone.
She knew exactly what he’d be up to. She scrabbled around on the floor for her shoes and socks, afraid to put the light on in case it attracted attention. She threw her cardigan on. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears, and tried to steady herself as she stepped out of the room.
The house was as dark and quiet as ever when she crept out onto the landing. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the clock on the wall across from her read two in the morning. She half expected to hear the voice she’d heard earlier outside the bedroom door.
Jem crept downstairs. She was wary of the fact that the h
allway opened out into the main vestibule, and she was worried that someone or something might pass by and see her.
As she came closer to the dining-room door, she thought she heard a noise. It sounded like something scraping against metal. Jem listened closely, holding her breath.
There was a flicker of light, orange and wisp-like, at the edge of the door.
She exhaled slowly. Waited. Listened.
The wind gave a low moan outside.
She heard the clink of something metallic, and knew instinctively that it was Tom. Tom who liked bright, shiny things and collecting candlesticks and clocks and ornaments so he could sell them in pursuit of his dream of living in a fancy house. She could picture him right now behind the door, stealing as much as he could, just as he had done so often in other houses the length and breadth of the country while she begged him not to.
Jem relaxed just a little, but she could feel a twinge of anger.
She had to stop him. They were guests here after all. She thought of Mirabelle and felt a wave of shame.
She grabbed the handle and shoved the door open, ready to catch Tom in the act.
She hadn’t expected to be greeted with a blood-curdling howl.
Or by the sight of the horrific candle-lit tableau that lay before her.
The room was filled with monsters, and most of them were eating from a long metal trough that stretched almost the entire length of the table. The enormous bear she and Tom had encountered before pulled its head from the trough and turned to her, baring its yellow teeth, ruby eyes burning with rage as it bellowed at her. Flecks of blood sprayed from its lips and landed on the wooden floor. A writhing black shape twisted beside the bear, its form changing and rippling from one moment to the next as it too bent over the trough. It straightened up and Jem saw the centre of its head fizz with sudden movement as if its very essence was being sucked into a whirlpool, and she felt her gorge rise as she realized a face was forming there.
The howling continued for a few moments as she tumbled into the room, and saw the source of the sound. There were two small creatures dressed in the twins’ clothes. Their faces were gnarled and twisted, their eyes black and shining. They had yellow fangs. They both clung to the large bone they’d obviously been fighting over before Jem entered the room.
You shouldn’t be here, a voice shouted in her mind, and she recognized it as the voice she’d heard earlier that evening. There was something else familiar about it, but she couldn’t think what, and she so wanted to run, but fear had gripped her hard and she couldn’t move.
The cold gust of air caused by the shadow that rose up from the back of the room broke her paralysis.
Jem ran.
She reached the main hallway and raced towards the front door. Her thoughts were wild, panicked and scattered, like leaves in a storm. She grabbed the handle and twisted it.
The door was locked.
Jem pounded on it.
She could feel movement behind her.
She turned.
The creatures were coming towards her. The bear was snapping its jaws and snarling. The two girls were hissing and clawing the air. She saw the lump of dark matter convulsing as it tried to render itself into a recognizable human shape while dragging a dress behind it.
Jem expected the monsters to fall on her. She didn’t expect them to part and make way for the hissing shadow that loped towards her now, extending its wings and gnashing its teeth together as it shrieked at her.
She looked into its face, into its dark eyes, its long incisors. Jem felt her legs almost give way as it lunged towards her.
‘Enoch! No!’
Jem felt a mixture of terror and relief as Mirabelle appeared in front of her, swiftly interposing herself between Jem and the winged bat-like creature.
Enoch, she said Enoch, Jem thought, her mind a flurry as she looked from Mirabelle to the creature.
The monster snarled at Mirabelle, but Mirabelle stepped towards it, her jaw jutting forward defiantly.
‘Leave her alone!’
The creature gave a great flap of its wings and the air cracked. It threw up a gust of wind so strong that Jem was almost knocked off her feet.
Mirabelle, to her credit, stood ramrod straight before it, her fists clenched.
‘I said, leave her alone.’
The monster’s eyes went from Jem to Mirabelle and amazingly its wings started to fold in on themselves. Its features began to flow and smooth to a pale whiteness, and everything changed, except for its eyes which remained completely black and pitiless. It raised its head in a familiar aloof way, and there was now no mistaking the grim face of Uncle Enoch as he glared down at her.
‘She disturbed the sacred feast,’ he snarled at Mirabelle.
Some of the creatures behind him growled in agreement.
‘How was she to know?’ Mirabelle shouted at them.
‘She should show some respect!’ Enoch roared.
The undulating shadow began to flow towards them from the back of the hallway. It made a sound like sand in a gigantic hourglass as the spiders that made up the constituent parts of its body began to flow together and form a familiar shape.
‘Aunt Eliza,’ Jem gasped. Now she remembered the voice she’d heard earlier and why it had sounded so familiar.
Eliza’s face was half formed. Hundreds of spiders rushed together across the floor and joined their fellows as they raced upwards to form the body that now filled the gown they’d been dragging.
Eliza put a restraining hand on Enoch’s arm, and Jem could see the agitation of the spiders as they spun in dark lines and settled together to form her limbs. ‘Enoch, please. She wasn’t to know.’
Enoch trembled with fury as he looked down at Mirabelle and Jem. The bear shambled to and fro behind him, while the twins licked their teeth and stared hungrily at Jem.
Enoch was about to say something when there came a hideous shriek from the bowels of the house. It was the howling of someone in utter agony. Jem recognized the sound instantly.
‘Tom!’ she screamed.
Piglet
Piglet is surprised when the door opens. It hasn’t been opened in a very, very long time.
He is even more surprised when he sees the boy standing there, mouth agape.
The boy is new. When the boy looks up at him, Piglet can see the terror in his eyes.
‘Oh no, no,’ the boy says, his voice catching in his throat. And Piglet tilts his head and wonders what it might be that has frightened him so.
The boy backs away, but it seems as if he has forgotten how to use his legs, and he stutters and stumbles backwards, then falls to the floor.
‘No, please,’ he moans.
Piglet feels something. He feels . . .
He has to think about this.
Piglet feels sorry for him.
Piglet knows that the boy is not simply terrified now; the fact is the boy is terrified all the time. Piglet can see it in his green eyes, and in the lines that have appeared on a face that is much too young for them. Piglet sighs in compassion.
But Piglet is also hungry.
Oh, so very hungry.
And the door is open.
There is only one thing to do.
And when he does it, the boy screams.
Mirabelle
Mirabelle had instinctively grabbed Jem’s hand, and they’d both dashed into the deepest part of the house with the others in hot pursuit. She had never seen Piglet’s door open before, but here it stood now, swinging on its great brass hinges, a soft murmurous breeze emanating from the cool interior, the scent of damp earth wafting out from the centuries-old blackness and a large skeleton key angled awkwardly in the lock.
The stunned silence felt like nails across Mirabelle’s soul. Bertram had reverted to his human aspect and was leaning against the wall, inconsolable, as tears streamed down his face. Both Dotty and Daisy were clutching each other and weeping. Even Gideon had heard the commotion and was rocking fretfully back and for
th in the dark behind them.
A frozen Enoch blinked rapidly for a few moments, while Eliza placed a gentle hand on his arm, her other hand covering her mouth in shock.
Jem broke the silence.
‘Where is he? Where’s Tom?’
She was white-faced, frantic. Mirabelle didn’t know what to say to her.
‘We should close it,’ Enoch said quietly.
Bertram laughed bitterly through his tears. ‘It’s a bit late for that now, isn’t it?’
Jem stood in front of Enoch. ‘Where is he? What’s happened to my brother?’
Mirabelle felt a fierce stab of pride as she watched her friend confront Enoch.
Enoch tilted his head and looked at Jem as if he’d come across a strange specimen of flower and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. His expression was almost one of pity. Mirabelle wanted to slap him.
Enoch shook his head. ‘Piglet is free. You have no idea what that means.’
‘Where is he? Where’s Tom?’ Jem screamed.
Enoch turned away from her and gestured towards the open door. Both Dotty and Daisy stepped forward and pushed the door closed. It slammed shut with a great iron clang.
‘Where is my brother?’ Jem pleaded, grabbing Mirabelle’s arm.
Eliza pointed towards the other end of the corridor. ‘There’s a door that way. It leads up and out.’
‘Don’t worry. We’ll find him. He’ll be fine,’ said Mirabelle, trying her best to sound reassuring and hoping that the fear she felt wasn’t betrayed by her eyes.
She turned to Enoch.
‘We have to find Piglet.’
Bertram whimpered, and Enoch shook his head. ‘I won’t allow it. Confronting Piglet would be too risky for any of us. We must stay here within the confines of the estate.’
Mirabelle spluttered in disbelief. ‘We can’t just let him escape. We have to find him and bring him back!’
‘But Piglet is dangerous,’ Bertram moaned, cramming his knuckles against his mouth.
‘Bertram is correct,’ said Eliza.
Mirabelle couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She looked from one to the other, and each of them looked terrified, even Eliza. She was so angry now, there was a rushing whooshing sound in her ears.
The Monsters of Rookhaven Page 9
