Agapanthus and Joe looked astonished.
‘That’s utterly extraordinary,’ whispered Agapanthus, after a moment.
‘How d’you do it?’ asked Joe.
‘It’s because . . .’ Stella felt awkward. ‘It’s because I’m fey.’ It was very strange to say it aloud. She avoided their eyes. ‘So, I’ll go in there and see if I can find Ottilie.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Agapanthus.
Stella nodded. ‘And if I don’t come out again —’
Agapanthus grabbed Stella’s hand and squeezed it. ‘If you don’t come out, we’ll come in and save you.’
‘Sure as cheese,’ said Joe, nodding.
Stella hugged them both. Then, before she could change her mind, she took a breath and made herself invisible again. Her head swam as she disappeared.
She stood up, climbed over the wall and began to make her way down the slope, towards the Gabbro brothers and the entrance to the tunnel. She edged down as cautiously as she could, one step at a time. About halfway down, her foot slipped and dislodged several small pebbles.
Below, one of the Gabbro brothers got to his feet. ‘What was that?’ He grabbed a lantern and held it up, his sharp eyes scanning the slope.
Stella waited for a moment, and then went on even more carefully. She reached the bottom and tiptoed towards the brothers. She crept between them; they were close enough to touch. She could smell them: a mixture of old gravy, eels and sweat. She could hear them chewing. The one with the lantern moved suddenly and brushed against her.
‘What was that?’ he asked, spinning around, his eyes wide.
He was staring right at her. Stella could see the lantern light reflected in his eyes and the little bits of eel jelly caught in the stubble on his chin. Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure he would hear it.
‘I don’t see nothin’.’
‘I bleedin’ felt somethin’.’ He pushed the piece of eel he was holding into his mouth and chomped it up as he reached out, his stubby fingers clutching at the air just above Stella’s head. She ducked.
‘You’re seein’ things, you are,’ said one of the other brothers. ‘Stay down here long enough, and you start seein’ all sorts. You’re givin’ me the frights, jumpin’ like a bleedin’ coney.’
‘You weren’t here when that flippin’ thing was howlin’ like a banshee.’ The first brother looked nervously over his shoulder at the mouth of the tunnel. ‘Fair turned my gizzards, that did.’
‘Sit down and eat your dinner.’
Stella tiptoed past them silently and made her way into the tunnel. It was narrow and very dark and sloped down steeply. She cautiously felt her way along, clambering over fallen rocks. After a short distance, the tunnel widened out. A lantern hung from a hook, and by the flickering light she saw two huge bronze doors. They were ancient, pitted with rust and ornamented with rows of studs, each the size of a man’s fist. In between the studs were patterns of curling lines and strange, leering half-human faces. The doors were ajar, just wide enough for someone to slip through.
Stella hesitated on the threshold and looked in. The air was dead and cold and smelled of ancient things. A faint, greenish light flickered, swirling and shifting. It was the light she had seen in her dream. She half-imagined someone singing on the edge of hearing.
‘Luna?’ she whispered.
A muffled sound from close by made her jump. She spun around. A small figure was sitting curled up against the door. It was Ottilie. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her knees, and her head was down.
Stella made herself become visible again and took a shaky breath. She knelt down. ‘Ottilie!’ she whispered.
Ottilie lifted her face. She was clutching the little toy rabbit that she had hidden under the floorboard at school. ‘Stella!’ she gasped. ‘It’s you.’ She reached out and grasped Stella’s hand. Her fingers were cold and trembling.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Stella.
‘I’ve been so f-frightened.’ Tears trickled down Ottilie’s face. ‘How did you find me?’
‘We followed Mr Garnet. We found Agapanthus. She showed us the way down here.’ Stella sat beside Ottilie and put her arm around her. ‘What happened?’
‘I didn’t want to open it,’ Ottilie whispered. ‘I didn’t. But he made me. It wants to stay locked. I can feel it.’ She reached out a shaking hand and touched the door with her fingertips. ‘It’s very old. Mr Garnet made my m-mother open it. And he kept her here and made her open it whenever he wanted to go in. But then one time a m-monster came out, and it snatched her and dragged her in there, down underground.’ She choked back a sob. ‘That’s what he told me.’
‘The fetch,’ said Stella. She patted Ottilie’s shoulder.
‘He said if I didn’t do what he told me, he’d leave me here, and the monster would take me too. And he laughed.’
‘What’s he doing? Where is he now?’
‘He’s in there. He’s finding treasure. That’s what I think. He’s got a heavy bag.’
‘You’ve been very brave,’ whispered Stella. ‘And we’ve come to rescue you.’ She hesitated. ‘But I think I have to go in there too.’
Ottilie said, ‘P-please don’t go.’
‘I have to,’ said Stella. ‘I had a dream about it.’ She hesitated again. ‘I think someone is in there. I need to find out. And rescue her, if I can.’
Ottilie whispered, almost too quietly to hear, ‘But . . . Do you think there’s a chance my m-mother is still —?’
‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know,’ said Stella.
Ottilie bit her lip. ‘I thought she was dead.’ After a moment, she whispered, ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘It will be very dangerous,’ said Stella. ‘Mr Garnet is down there. And the fetch too. And maybe the King of the Mountain, who might be a giant, I think. And I don’t know what else.’
‘Yes, I know. But maybe . . . And it’s been s-so horrible, waiting here all by myself. I’ve been so frightened.’
‘Are you sure?’ Stella whispered.
Ottilie clambered to her feet. She wiped her face with her hands, took a shuddering breath and nodded. She pushed the toy rabbit into her pocket. ‘I’m sure.’
Stella stood up. She gripped Ottilie’s hand and led the way through the huge doors and into the darkness.
Twenty-Two
Stella and Ottilie found themselves in a huge cavern. It was difficult to tell how large it was — the ceiling was high overhead, lost in the shadows. There were tiny glimmers of greenish light floating in the air, shifting and swirling like fireflies. Long-dead tree roots twisted between the crumbling stones. It was very cold.
Stella remembered what Mr Cornelius had said about the fetch — that it was attracted to voices. ‘We have to be very quiet,’ she whispered.
Ottilie nodded.
They tiptoed across the echoing space and came to the edge of an enormous hole. The ground dropped away. Stella looked down and felt her insides turn over. It was like looking into an abyss. A stone staircase spiralled around the edge, down and down, into the gloom.
Far below, things slithered and flapped in the darkness. A snickering howl echoed from deep underground.
Stella swallowed. ‘You could still go back, if you want to,’ she whispered. ‘It would be much safer, I think.’
Ottilie’s face was white, but she shook her head.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Stella.
Ottilie nodded.
Together, they began to climb down the stairs. They kept as close to the wall as they could. At every turn of the spiral, they passed columns and archways. In a dark opening, they heard a crunching, slobbering sound, as if something was being eaten. Ottilie gave a muffled squeak as they tiptoed quickly past.
The walls were stone. In places, there were carvings of strange creatures. Some of the creatures’ eyes were set with coloured jewels. Some had dark holes for eyes, where the jewels were gone.
Stella heard the singing voice again. S
he caught her breath. It echoed up from below. The notes seemed to swim up through the air, like tiny silver fish.
A shadow flitted past. They felt the flap of wings.
Lantern light gleamed. There was a faint clinking sound. They hesitated and went on more cautiously.
Mr Garnet was crouched on the stairs, chipping at one of the stone carvings with a pair of pliers, gouging a jewel from the wall. He was wearing leather gloves and extraordinary brass goggles, with lenses of dark glass. He held up a sparkling red stone and inspected it in the light of his lantern, then dropped it into a bulging satchel.
Shadows seemed to flicker and cluster around him, as if attracted by the light. Something flew out of the darkness. Mr Garnet adjusted his goggles, turning a brass screw on the side, and watched as the huge shape flapped past.
Stella and Ottilie gasped and ducked.
Mr Garnet whirled around and saw them. ‘What are you doing here?’ He fiddled with his goggles. The lantern light glinted on the lenses, turning them into yellow circles. ‘My own invention,’ he said. ‘They allow me to see things that would be invisible to others. Essential, down here.’
He lunged towards them.
Stella and Ottilie backed away, clambering up the stairs. Mr Garnet’s hand shot out with unexpected speed and grasped Stella’s arm. Brass claws emerged from his leather glove with a sharp click.
‘Another invention,’ said Mr Garnet.
Stella struggled, but could not pull herself free from his grip. The claws dug into her arm, making her cry out.
‘Let her go,’ said Ottilie, grabbing his arm. He shoved her away. She fell down, and he laughed. The sound echoed. In the darkness, something snickered. The shadowy shapes seemed to move closer, edging around behind him.
Mr Garnet gave Stella a vicious shake that made her teeth rattle and said, ‘This is my discovery. I will be rich, and no little whining schoolgirls are going to prevent that. I need the lockwitch. For now. But I have no use for you. None at all.’ He dragged her to the edge of the stairs. She struggled, twisting around, trying to pull herself free, but his grip was too strong. ‘I don’t know how you found your way down here. But you won’t find your way back up again, believe me.’
He lifted her off her feet and flung her over the edge.
Stella screamed. As she fell, she managed to grab on to the crumbling stone at the edge of the stairs. Her legs dangled into space. She clung on desperately and shrieked in fright.
Far below in the darkness, something howled.
Mr Garnet’s strong brass claws began to prise Stella’s grip away, one finger at a time. Her heart lurched in terror. She shrieked again.
A pale shape flew up from below. A hunched creature with long, thin arms and papery wings. It had tufts of wispy hair and no eyes. Its long fingers felt the air, clutching, snatching.
Mr Garnet stepped back with a curse. Stella clung on as the fetch circled, flapping overhead.
Suddenly, it swooped.
Mr Garnet screamed. The fetch grabbed him around the neck and lifted him off the ground. He screamed again, struggling. The fetch gripped him tightly and howled. Then it plunged down into the darkness and was gone. A bubbling screech echoed up from below.
Ottilie scuttled forward, grasped Stella’s arms and dragged her to safety. They stumbled away from the edge and crouched against the wall.
Stella was shaking.
‘Are you all right?’ whispered Ottilie.
‘Yes.’ She felt as if she might faint. ‘Maybe.’ Her fingers were cut and bruised. Mr Garnet’s brass claws had torn her coat sleeve, and her arm was bleeding.
Ottilie’s face was pale, her eyes wide. ‘That was horrible,’ she whispered.
‘Yes.’ Stella swallowed. ‘Yes, it was.’ After a moment, she asked, ‘Are you sure you want to go on?’
Ottilie hesitated, and then nodded. ‘Are you?’
Stella took a shuddering breath. ‘Yes.’
They stood up. Stella remembered Joe collecting stones to throw at the rats in the sewer. She picked up a handful of pebbles that lay on the floor and put them in her pocket. Then she clasped Ottilie’s hand, and they continued down the stairs.
Tendrils of mist drifted and curled through the air, making it difficult to see. They passed clusters of pale toadstools glowing with a hazy, dim light. Stella felt her head swim. There was a horrible smell, of stagnant water and old, dead things. The air was as cold as ice.
At last, they reached the bottom of the stairs and found themselves in a large room. The walls were carved with intricate patterns and studded with glittering stones. Twisting columns reached up to the ceiling. Lights drifted through the air, casting a strange, eerie glow.
The singing was louder here. There were no words, just a high, whispery voice, beautiful and melancholy, like leaves drifting down from a tree. It swirled and echoed. It was difficult to tell from which direction it came.
A flock of tiny, fluttering things whirled overhead, hissing and chattering. Stella gasped, then dragged Ottilie through a doorway and around a corner. After a moment, they peered out. The creatures, whatever they were, had gone.
They went on, past dark doorways and stairs that wound further downwards, deeper into the ground. Something moved, and they ducked behind a pillar as a pale creature slithered past. It had a long, glistening body and too many legs. Its sightless head lurched from side to side. They waited until it was gone, and then tiptoed on, slipping through the shadows as silently as mice.
Suddenly, a deafening roar like a crack of thunder echoed along the passageway.
Stella gasped, and Ottilie gave a little shriek and clutched her arm. ‘W-what was that?’ she breathed.
‘I don’t know,’ whispered Stella. She gripped Ottilie’s hand tightly.
From somewhere ahead, they could hear faint sounds. Murmurs and low voices. They followed the sounds and came to a door locked with a heavy bronze padlock.
They peered in through the small, barred window and saw shapes in the darkness. Fingers clutched at the bars. A white face looked out at them.
Ottilie reached out and touched the padlock. Her hands were shaking. She closed her eyes. With a grinding creak, the lock opened. Together, they heaved open the heavy door. People stumbled out. They were pale and thin, and they looked dazed. An old man in a velvet coat, a young girl, three young men, a woman and a dozen more people. They stood and stared. Some of them sat down, bewildered.
Ottilie suddenly made a strangled, gasping sound. She stumbled towards one of the women. ‘M-Mother,’ she whispered, crying. ‘Mother, I thought you were dead.’
The woman held Ottilie’s face between her two hands and looked into her eyes. Then she pulled her close and hugged her tightly. ‘My darling girl,’ she whispered.
Stella peered into the cell. It was empty. She whispered to Ottilie, ‘You need to get everyone out, back up the staircase. As quick as you can. You know the way. Will you be all right?’
‘Of course,’ whispered Ottilie. ‘But aren’t you coming too?’
‘No, I have to go on. I have to find someone,’ whispered Stella.
‘I’ll come with you . . .’
‘No, you need to save all these people.’ She gave Ottilie a little push. ‘You have to. You can do it. You’re very brave.’
Ottilie hesitated for a moment, then wiped her eyes and nodded. She let go of her mother and gave Stella a hug. ‘Good luck.’ Then she took her mother’s hand again and turned to the group. ‘Come on,’ she whispered to them. ‘Follow me. W-we have to be quick. And as quiet as we can.’
Stella watched Ottilie lead the long line of people along the passageway, back towards the staircase. Then she turned and went the other way, in the direction from which the singing seemed to come.
She tried to make herself disappear, but nothing happened. She stopped walking, took a breath and tried again, but she could not do it. It felt as though the thick, stagnant air would not let her fade.
She hesitat
ed nervously before going on, following the sound of the singing. She passed through an archway into a long room that was lined with glittering mirrors and crystals. The reflections made confusing patterns in the darkness. She tiptoed the length of the room and cautiously peered through a doorway.
It was the room from her dream. She caught her breath. A greenish light gleamed. Curls of mist drifted through the air. At the far end of the room was a looming shape, an enormous figure sitting on a throne. The creature was as tall as a house and looked as if it had been hewn from ancient boulders. On its head was a crown made of crystals and glinting shards of metal.
The King of the Mountain.
The mist swirled, and Stella saw a thin, young man. His skin was as white as paper. He was standing close beside the throne, and he was playing a little harp. The harp seemed to have only two remaining strings and made a faint twanging sound. The young man was opening his mouth, as if he was singing, but nothing came out. His eyes were closed. He looked pale and ill and desperately tired, but his fingers on the harp strings played on and on.
Beside him stood Luna.
Stella felt her heart beating. Luna was barefoot, and she wore a thin cotton dress. Her wispy hair hung loose around her shoulders. Her eyes were shut, and she was singing. Her voice was not loud, but it echoed around the dark space, filling the air.
As Stella watched from the doorway, the King of the Mountain pushed something into his gaping mouth and crunched it up. With one huge finger, he extracted a splinter from between his long, pointed teeth and flung it onto the floor. He took a swig from a bronze goblet. Then his head nodded, and his eyes closed.
Stella waited until she was sure he was asleep and crept into the room. Something cracked under her foot. She froze and looked down. The floor was scattered with bones. There were hundreds of them. Thousands. Some gleaming white, some greenish with mould. She gulped and carefully picked her way between them.
A bit further along, she stopped again. Her insides gave a horrible lurch. Lying amongst the bones were Mr Garnet’s brass goggles and one of his leather gloves. She stared at them in horror. Then she took a breath and forced herself to go on. She tiptoed further into the room, keeping to the darkest shadows and as far as she could from the sleeping figure on the throne.
Wakestone Hall Page 14