Mirabelle
The fear. The pain. It was almost crippling now. Mirabelle watched as the villagers gathered for one final assault. She could see the Malice in the centre of them, and she knew this was the end.
A shadow passed over, and seconds later Enoch landed beside her.
Enoch frowned at Odd. ‘You should be resting.’
‘Thank you for your concern, Uncle, but I suspect I may be of more use here. We need all the help we can get.’ He looked at Tom who was holding a piece of wood.
Tom, looking slightly embarrassed, held up his makeshift weapon. ‘I thought I could help.’
Enoch gave him a sharp nod, which Mirabelle recognized as a sign of deep gratitude. She managed a rueful smile.
Enoch stood stiffly beside her, unable to look at her.
‘What is it, Uncle?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ he said, staring at the advancing crowd, a muscle in his jaw flickering.
‘Uncle?’
He looked down at her, and she was shocked to see tears welling in his eyes.
‘They die, you see, the mortals. They die and their loved ones experience pain. I wanted to save you from that. The pain. If I’d told you about your mother, it would have hurt you the way I’ve seen it hurt them. I only wanted to protect you from that.’
Mirabelle took his hand. ‘Thank you, Uncle, but you didn’t have to.’
‘I’m your guardian. I made a promise to your mother.’
Mirabelle squeezed his hand. ‘It’s better that I understand the pain.’
Enoch nodded.
They both turned to face the crowd. The Malice was at its head, and it was smiling.
Freddie
Freddie was talking to his father, trying to keep in step with him.
‘You know you don’t have to do this, don’t you, Dad?’
Tears were streaming down his father’s face. His lips were moving silently, his eyes fixed on the house. They were only a few feet from the steps. Freddie could see Mirabelle and Odd, Enoch and Eliza. The twins were looking out of a window.
‘Dad?’
Mr Pheeps’s voice rang out. ‘And lo, so it came to pass that the good people of Rookhaven freed themselves from their shackles.’
His eyes were gleaming, and to Freddie he looked more loathsome than ever.
‘Now if you people would be so kind as to move forward and ensure that these people receive their just desserts.’
The crowd advanced with purpose. Freddie could see Mirabelle and the others just standing there waiting. He wanted to shout at them to run. Why didn’t they just run? The crowd was so close to them now. They would be upon them in moments and then . . .
Freddie didn’t want to think about it. He held his breath. A line of men had already reached the foot of the steps. Some of those at the front were already raising their weapons.
Then the doors of the house exploded outwards in a shower of splinters as something huge and black burst through the door. It reared up on its hind legs and bellowed at the night sky. Freddie could barely take it in. It had dozens of green eyes, or perhaps they were orange, all made of a beautiful liquid fire. It had a ruffle of scarlet feathers, and it was horned and taloned like some mythical beast. It bellowed again, and the crowd started to scatter in terror as it pelted directly towards them.
‘KILL IT! KILL IT!’ Mr Pheeps screamed.
Freddie heard Mirabelle shout, ‘Piglet! No!’
Piglet! That creature was Piglet!
Mr Pheeps was still screaming.
‘KILL IIIIIIIIIT!’
A half-dozen ‘brave’ souls raised their weapons. Through some miracle they all fired at the same time.
And, right in front of Freddie’s eyes, Piglet exploded.
Piglet
Piglet was frightened when the girl came to him.
He wanted her to go away. He’d been frightened for a while now. It felt as if he’d been frightened forever. It felt like that because Piglet had never been frightened before the Malice came. The fear hurt. It hurt every part of his being.
And he missed Bertram.
And he was afraid for Odd.
There was so much fear and pain.
The girl begged him to help, but what could he do? The creature that had killed Bertram was not something that could be beaten. Piglet knew that.
Then the girl had asked him to protect Mirabelle. And he thought about Mirabelle, and how much her voice meant to him. How much having her near meant to him. And he thought about the creature and how it wanted to hurt her. How it wanted to hurt all of them.
And for the first time in his life Piglet knew rage.
And now here he is, facing the creature, facing the people from the village.
He hears the creature scream. He likes the sound because he hears fear in it. He sees the people look at him, the terror in their eyes, and he pities them. Even the ones who fire their weapons at him.
And Piglet explodes.
He explodes into dozens of shining golden lights, and each light flies through the night air and finds its mark.
Each light finds a person.
Each light is Piglet.
And as each light enters a person, they know Piglet and he knows them.
He knows Mr and Mrs Smith. Knows how Mr Smith goes to bed late each night and weeps in front of the fire over his two sons because the tears always come at night and he is afraid of his wife seeing them. Mr Smith wants to be strong for her. He wants to protect her. But Piglet knows Mrs Smith now too. He knows how much she loves her husband, and how seeing his tears won’t hurt her but will help her in some way, because then they can share the pain, carry the burden together.
Piglet knows Alfie Parkin too. Knows how freakish and ugly Alfie feels. How every week Alfie goes into the bakery to buy a pastry from Amy Nicholson because he likes Amy and thinks she has a nice smile. He knows too how ashamed Alfie feels when he leaves the bakery, because even though talking with Amy makes him feel lighter, he always remembers who he is when he leaves, how useless he feels, how ugly. And he goes home and throws another pastry in the bin.
And Piglet knows Amy too. He knows that she likes Alfie Parkin. She likes Alfie Parkin a lot. But Alfie will only chat to her for a few moments, and then it is as if a cloud passes over his face, and he remembers something terrible. Then Alfie leaves the shop. And Amy feels that there is something between them, an unbridgeable chasm that will always be there, and she doesn’t know how to cross it.
And Piglet knows Mr Teasdale and how he likes his collection of clocks and how his cat means the world to him, and how he is afraid and nervous all the time, and how he hides this by pretending to be constantly angry. He knows Constable Griggs and how much his job and honour mean to him. He knows the Bennetts and the Carswells . . . He knows so many of them.
He knows the Fletchers now too. He knows of the terrible oppressive weight of the loss of James and how it has come between them, how they can’t talk about it. He knows that Freddie desperately wants to reach out to his father, but doesn’t know how. He knows that Freddie’s father is afraid of expressing love for his one remaining son because he has already lost one, and to tell another he loves him would be to risk too much, so Mr Fletcher has gathered around him a hard carapace to protect himself, and yet that carapace also hurts. He knows how much Mr Fletcher’s wife wants to reach her husband too, but for all her gifts she doesn’t know how.
But Piglet watches them now. Because now they know each other, and he sees Freddie move towards his father. His father is crying, and Freddie hugs his father, and very soon the whole Fletcher family is embracing, and they weep with each other, and Piglet weeps with them, but his weeping is tinged with joy.
This is what Piglet sees as he passes through the minds of the people of Rookhaven.
And as they pass through his.
And as their minds touch they all know each other. They know each other’s frailties, their weaknesses, their fears, and in this way they are a
ll revealed to each other. And the hatred the Malice has sown in all their hearts melts away.
Piglet leaves them now. But he carries a part of each of them with him. He knows each part is a gift.
And the people of the village are themselves again.
And thanks to Piglet they are free.
Mirabelle
Mirabelle watched as the dozens of golden lights into which Piglet had transformed left their hosts and floated up into the air to form a fine golden mist, pulsing with splashes of rainbow colour. The mist then glided back in through the front door of the house to return to Piglet’s room. She felt relief flood through her, knowing that Piglet was safe.
Most of the people had collapsed to their knees. She saw the Fletchers holding each other, saw the dazed looks on everyone’s faces. Some people were crying.
The Malice screamed at them.
‘Get up! Get up, you fools!’
But no one was listening to it. Some people staggered up and helped their friends. Not one of them paid it any heed.
Odd nudged Enoch. ‘Piglet is dangerous, eh?’
Surprisingly, Enoch allowed himself a ghost of a smile.
‘It worked,’ gasped Jem, running up to Mirabelle.
‘How did you know?’ asked Mirabelle.
Jem shook her head. ‘I didn’t. It was a guess. I knew what he could do. Tom told me, and I thought if they could all see each other as they really are . . .’
The Malice was still screaming. It clenched its fists in frustration, then turned to look at the Family.
‘No matter. I can finish the job myself.’
Mirabelle felt her stomach lurch as the Malice advanced towards them. Jem grabbed her arm.
They were both almost knocked off their feet as Enoch took flight. Mirabelle punched the air and bellowed as he landed on the Malice and sent it flying into the dirt. People scattered, but the Malice was on its feet in seconds, and as Enoch launched himself at him again the Malice sidestepped, and a claw flashed through the air and took Enoch in the wing. Now it was Enoch’s turn to hit the dirt, and he tumbled over and over, attempting to form a protective cocoon with his wings, but Mirabelle could see that one of them was twisted back, as if something had been broken.
Mirabelle started down the steps, but Jem pulled her back, mouthing the word ‘no’.
Enoch lay on the ground. He tried to raise himself up, but fell back. The Malice loped towards him, smiling. Its smile vanished when Freddie stepped between it and Enoch. The Malice halted its advance, cocking its head in surprise. Freddie was joined by his mother, then his father. A bedraggled but defiant-looking Mr Teasdale followed and stood with them. Gradually more of the villagers followed, all of them forming a barrier between the Malice and Enoch.
‘Don’t you dare take another step,’ said Freddie.
The Malice looked at Enoch’s would-be rescuers with mild astonishment, then it doubled over as it burst out laughing.
‘Oh my. It seems the useful idiots have found a new purpose. How utterly marvellous.’
It straightened up, wiping tears of laughter from its eyes. Freddie glared at it.
‘Is this the best any of you can offer?’ the Malice jeered.
‘We won’t give up without a fight,’ Mirabelle shouted.
The Malice shook its head and smirked. ‘Oh, but you will.’ It suddenly sniffed the air and looked up into a tree just above him. Mirabelle could see the leaves moving, and she looked around her at the others standing on the steps and realized something with a sickening clarity.
‘No,’ she shrieked.
It was too late. The person in the tree leaped at the Malice, screaming in rage. The Malice was surprised only for a second, then its claws closed around thin air and its mouth widened.
Mirabelle ran down the steps towards the Malice. Gideon materialized in its claws. He was slashing the air with his hands, biting and snapping in an effort to reach the Malice. The Malice laughed at him.
‘You’re a feisty little one, aren’t you?’ the Malice sneered. It sniffed the air just above Gideon’s head. ‘And brand new too. You’ll be nice and fresh. Lovely and sweet. I might save you till last.’
It wagged a clawed finger as it caught sight of Mr Fletcher taking a step towards him. ‘Now, now, Mr Fletcher. I wouldn’t if I were you.’ It waved the same finger back and forth across Gideon’s neck. ‘There’s no telling what I might do.’
Freddie laid a hand on his father’s arm, and Mr Fletcher took a reluctant step back.
‘Put my brother down,’ Mirabelle growled at the Malice. Her heart was pounding, and it seemed to her as if the whole night was throbbing with pain, and that ache within her was worse than ever. It had become steadily stronger as the night had progressed.
The one-eyed raven dropped from the night sky and landed on her right shoulder.
The Malice nodded at it. ‘He knows. He knows what you are. You’re carrion. Meat only fit to be eaten by crows. Isn’t that right, Mr Raven?’
The raven glared at him.
Mirabelle’s breathing became steadier. She looked at the raven and it cawed at her. She had felt oddly serene as soon as it had landed on her shoulder. As if it felt . . .
The Malice sniffed the air again. ‘You’re an odd one,’ it said to Mirabelle. It sniffed again. ‘You don’t smell right, you smell . . . different.’ It shrugged. ‘No matter. Like I said. Carrion.’
Its mouth started to grow. Its eyes misted, greyed over and bulged. Its claws elongated, and Mirabelle could see his teeth sharpen and multiply. The ache within her was insistent now. Gideon squirmed, but the Malice had a firm grip on him, and it brought him closer and closer to his jaws. All eyes were on the Malice. Only Mirabelle could see the birds on the wall take to the sky. A handful at first.
It felt right, that’s what she thought to herself as the first raven slammed into the Malice. The raven landing on her shoulder had somehow felt right.
The raven hit the Malice in the side of the face with a glancing blow. It was enough to cause it to drop Gideon. Gideon scampered up the steps and straight into the arms of Eliza.
The Malice looked enraged. It took a step towards Mirabelle, a clawed hand outstretched. It opened its tooth-filled maw.
‘You will—’
Another raven hit him. This one with the force of a bullet. The Malice put a clawed hand to its cheek, not quite believing what was happening. Another raven hit, then another. Each one collided with a loud, percussive smack.
Mirabelle looked at the wall. A cloud of ravens rose up. They flew over the estate. They circled and shrieked, cawing as they went round and round above the crowd. The Malice looked up and snarled.
Mirabelle looked at the one-eyed raven and nodded. He cawed. She looked at the cloud of ravens and she willed them downwards.
They descended in a black cloud of fury, hammering the Malice straight into the dirt. One wave followed after another, until the creature was pummelled into the ground. They ripped and they shredded, tearing away bits of flesh. Mirabelle saw a claw severed from its limb, and felt a little dart of pleasure as the Malice screamed. She looked at her family and friends, all stunned by the scene before them.
Dotty and Daisy were standing with mouths agape.
‘Look, Daisy,’ Mirabelle shouted. ‘I can do something.’
She raised her arms, then drove the birds downwards. The ravens responded like musicians to a conductor. It looked as if they were attempting to hammer the Malice right through the earth. They became a black tornado of whirring feathers and snapping beaks, a maelstrom of fury and flashing eyes. Mirabelle watched them, willed them on. Down they came again and again, snapping and biting and pounding. Then finally Mirabelle closed her eyes and nodded, and they rose up as one, flew up into the night sky and dispersed.
Mirabelle opened her eyes. The eerie silence was broken only by the fluttering of the raven on her shoulder, and the wet gug-gug hissing and gurgling sounds of the creature that lay before her.
She advanced towards it. All that remained of the Malice was a skeletal thing with bits of white flesh hanging from it. It looked like the carving on the door with even more flesh sloughed off its body, except it still had its vile head with its grey slimy eyes and yellow teeth.
Mirabelle stood over it. It raised its one remaining claw as if begging for mercy. Mirabelle went down on one knee and took its head delicately between her hands and looked into its eyes.
‘I’ve been feeling this terrible pain ever since we first met.’
The creature tried to turn its head away, but it was too weak. It made a moist choking sound, as if it were trying to speak.
‘Shush now. I think I know what the pain was. I’d never felt it before, you see.’
Mirabelle closed her eyes and opened her mouth and took in a great lungful of air through her nose. The Malice started to tremble, and a black mist started to rise from its body, collecting into a round revolving core above it, which glowed with an eerie grey light. Mirabelle took that strange black light in her hands. She brought it towards her mouth. The creature keened and wept, but Mirabelle paid it no heed.
She swallowed its black soul.
The remains of the Malice collapsed into a spiky wet mush of bones and melted grey flesh. Mirabelle wiped an arm across her mouth. The raven cawed. She stood up and turned to her family. She smiled at them.
‘I was so hungry. But I’m not hungry any more.’
Part 5
Where and When
Jem
Jem and Tom were in the garden, helping Mirabelle plant flowers.
It was mid-morning, and they’d sown at least a dozen. One or two had started sprouting, and one in particular had already reached a height of two feet and begun snapping at them. It dived at Tom, and he barely twisted out of the way in time.
‘Be careful,’ said Mirabelle. ‘You have to keep watching them. They’re young and haven’t learned any manners yet.’
The Monsters of Rookhaven Page 19
