by T C Shelley
Sam climbed, a limping, jerking ascent, but he progressed. He peered down at Woermann again; the cat had retreated to the other side of the room. What was he up to?
When Sam heard the running paws, he knew the answer and scrambled higher as the cat roared and leaped.
Hazel screamed and Sam felt a solid paw hit his back near Hazel’s head. His grip on the pup weakened.
‘Don’t drop me, Sam,’ she cried.
The world around them darkened a little, but Sam shucked Hazel higher on his shoulder. The muscles in his back ached. The cat had hit him with more force than he’d ever felt before. His vision cleared and he saw the clean ceiling, no claw marks. If he could get his feet up that high …
Woermann’s paw tread retreated to the opposite end of the ballroom again, building energy, purring low at his meal. Sam clambered on to the ceiling and with Hazel resting on his chest, looked over his good shoulder. Woermann gained speed, racing across the floor. The padding stopped as the panther left the floor and punched low on Sam’s back. The pain was explosive. Sam shuddered and felt his arms weaken. If his hands didn’t stick by themselves, he would have fallen.
‘Hold on, Sam,’ Hazel said.
The dogs outside barked, human voices mixed with them, and the security screen rattled and fell.
Hazel whined. Sam peered down to see what Hazel was whining about. His gaze was distracted by an outline outside the window. He swore he could see the moon but it was blotted by misshapen blackness. Hazel barked at it. Glass scraped and crunched. The heavy tread of something retreated, someone running away.
Goodness knows how heavy Woermann was, he was angry and determined to dislodge Sam. The panther ran. Sam closed his eyes as the heavy feet gathered speed. The sound echoed against the walls, the shifters’ barking chorus sang to its heavy drum. He heard the power in Woermann’s legs and knew the panther could jump high enough to dislodge him and Hazel. A little more was all it would take. The cat’s heart pumped and Sam smelt the acrid scent of adrenalin as it pushed off the floor.
Sam’s teeth clenched closed; he could not help but hear every sound as the beast left the ground and flew towards them.
Boom! Something exploded through the window, and Woermann oofed as a projectile collided with the cat’s heavy body. Woermann’s talons, a cat’s whisker from Sam’s face, missed him completely, flying sideways as the cat’s trajectory changed.
Sam saw the cat’s head hit the wall. Its roar snapped off as it was knocked out. Then a second thud sounded as the heavy fur bomb hit the ground and shook the room.
Another heavier clunk came as the unknown projectile fell to the floorboards and cracked like stone. Sam lost his grip on his weakened side, and his arm and leg dropped. Hazel slid off his chest and he flailed, unable to catch her.
‘Sam!’ she screamed.
A dozen voices yelled.
After that, all Sam heard was heavy breathing and a pack of dogs racing around outside barking like their lives depended on it.
CHAPTER 25
Sam’s shoulder ached and the room was quiet.
‘Sam!’ Hazel called.
He let his wounded arm swing out so he could look at the room. Hazel sat in the arms of a large stone bull.
‘Wheedle?’ Sam watched the floor weave and wave like the sea.
Someone shrieked.
‘Spigot?’
Sam climbed down, three-limbed again. His heart beat fast, but he felt sleepy. He got most of the way down the wall and jumped the last bit, sliding to the floor.
Sam sat down. That was enough for one day.
‘Where’s Bladder?’ Sam asked.
‘He’s over there, your friends are putting his head back on. He just flew across the room and tackled the cat. You should have seen it. His face was like this.’ Wheedle bared all his teeth and tried to look fierce. It didn’t work.
Sam wished he had seen Bladder.
The cat lay near the door, its body curled near the skirting board.
He sniffed the cat; it was still alive.
‘Rope. We need rope,’ D.I. Kintamani said. Sam peered across the room and saw the shifters in human form wearing various makeshift outfits: towels, tablecloths, curtains. ‘We won’t be able to move him.’
Wilfred ran into the room wearing a sweater so long, it looked like a dress. ‘Will silk scarves do?’
‘Perfect!’ D.I. Kintamani said, and Wilfred reddened at his father’s praise.
‘Geneve, help me tie up this big cat,’ D.I. Kintamani said.
Mrs Kintamani grumbled. ‘Put the gargoyle together, round up the children. Now it’s tie up the cat! I can barely keep my towel up.’
‘Leave the gargoyle to me,’ Wheedle said. He put Hazel on the ground and she ran to Mrs Kintamani.
Sam heard the sizzle.
‘Sam! Sam!’ Bladder yelled. ‘Is he OK?’
Sam smiled at Bladder and collapsed on the floor. ‘How did you stop him?’ Sam asked. Bladder looked blurry.
‘Force and velocity,’ the gargoyle replied. ‘Makes being hit by half a tonne of handsome stone feel a whole lot worse.’
Sam felt a wet tongue on his cheek and everything went dark.
He woke up belly down on a bed inside a rattling house. His friends, in pup form, lay snuggled up to him. He opened one eye; Dr Kokoni had her hand on his neck.
The gargoyles, in an interesting tableau, had lined up one after the other along the side of the bed, all staring at him. They looked so dirty. If he hadn’t known them he would have found it creepy. Actually, he did find it creepy.
He moved his head, and everyone else moved too. The puppies bounced to their feet and the gargoyles blinked awake.
‘Easy, easy, Sam,’ Dr Kokoni said. ‘We’re getting you to a shifter surgery, you’ve had some nasty knocks. Don’t move.’
Sam struggled under her hand, rolled over and sat up. ‘I feel fine.’
Dr Kokoni squinted at him. ‘You’re kidding me. I was worried about internal bleeding. You were so bruised. I didn’t think you’d walk for ages.’
Wheedle pulled up Sam’s sweater and stared at his back, rubbing hard hoofs over the skin. ‘It’s gone yellow. Is yellow OK?’
‘It’s great,’ Dr Kokoni said, peering around too. ‘It was black an hour ago.’
‘Told ya,’ Bladder said. ‘He’s a gargoyle, knock him about and a few minutes later he’ll get right back up again.’
Sam felt around to his back. ‘It really did hurt when Woermann hit me.’
Bladder sniggered. ‘Try having your head knocked off. What is it? Four? Five times now? I’d very much like to mention that I never once lost my head before I met you.’
Sam squirmed.
‘And he’s worth every single one, right?’ Wheedle asked.
Bladder muttered something.
‘Speak up,’ Wheedle said.
‘Every single one, but it doesn’t mean I have to like them.’ Bladder put his face up to Sam’s and gave him a hard kiss on the forehead.
Spigot put his head on Sam’s lap.
Sam looked around. Mr Kokoni and Amira’s mum were sitting at a table sticking out of the wall, and Mrs Kintamani and D.I. Kintamani sat in seats in front of a big window. He would swear Mrs Kintamani was holding on to a steering wheel, and he could see the world outside the windows rushing by, house after house, as the moon sat low and light on the horizon. It was nearly morning.
Maybe he was hallucinating.
‘What is this place?’ he asked.
‘It’s a mobile home, Sam. We found it in Woermann’s shed. He probably used it on his hunting trips,’ D.I. Kintamani said.
Sam sat bolt upright. ‘Woermann?’
‘Safely stored in the truck. Still howling. He built that thing so nothing, including himself, could get out the back. He was roaring when we left. I left a message on ’Thrope Control’s answering machine. I’ll ring again in the morning.
‘I would have called an ambulance,’ Dr Kokoni said, ‘b
ut having a panther howling and, well, you’re not entirely human, so …’
‘Yeah, we didn’t think a normal hospital would cope,’ Amira said.
Wheedle nosed him, sniffed him. All the gargoyles did. As if this seemed to be the thing to do, the pups joined in. It hurt when he laughed.
The puppies dived on to the floor, rolling into small piles of clothes before changing into humans. They’d obviously developed a talent for shifting and dressing simultaneously.
‘That looks really weird,’ Wheedle said.
‘This from a talking rock,’ Hazel said.
‘So, I’m not speeding on a life-saving mission any more?’ Mrs Kintamani asked. ‘In which case, does anyone want breakfast?’
Mrs Kintamani pulled the bus into a service station car park. Despite her husband’s protests that they needed to get back and report on the incident, in the end he gave in to the Kokonis, Ms Saluki, three gargoyles and four hungry children. The stare his wife gave him may have also helped.
Sam was glad they took the food back to the bus and ate it while on the move.
The quicker they left, the quicker he could get home.
CHAPTER 26
Mrs Kintamani drove fast and smoothly, even with three gargoyles in the back seat, and turned down a side street near Sam’s house and parked. He could see home across the way. The three gargoyles jumped out, their paws cracking the asphalt.
‘Can we come too?’ Hazel asked.
‘I think Mr and Mrs Kavanagh will have enough to think about with Sam home, let alone three pups hyped up on sugary breakfast drinks.’
D.I. Kintamani winked at Wilfred, who tried his best to settle on the bedcovers, but despite looking human, he still bounced like a pup. Sam, his pack and D.I. Kintamani got out of the mobile home.
Bladder winced.
‘Bladder? You OK?’ Wheedle asked.
‘Think I ate too much eggy bread, I keep getting heartburn.’
‘Yes, heartburn,’ Wheedle agreed, and grinned at Sam.
Wheedle rubbed his face against Sam’s. ‘We love you, Sam,’ he said.
Bladder looked at the roof. ‘Up we get.’
Spigot screeched in Sam’s face. Sam stroked his beak.
‘And Bladder loves you more than anything in this world,’ Wheedle whispered to Sam. ‘You ignore his noises.’
‘We’ll talk about it as soon as we …’ Bladder waved a paw at the detective. ‘Stop wasting your time with smooching, you saps,’ Bladder called. ‘We gotta get on the roof before a crowd shows up.’
Sam walked up the steps of his home. It wasn’t a mansion like Woermann Manor, nor did it have all the expensive furniture and fittings, but the Kavanagh house was far more beautiful. He rang the bell.
The door opened and Nick stood there, still in his dressing gown, looking miserable and sleepy. Sam remembered a similar time only a few months before when Nick had looked the same, only he’d been waiting for Beatrice. Instead of yelling his name, though, Nick grabbed Sam, pulled him into a hug and the house. He looked over Sam’s shoulder and studied Wilfred’s dad. He was still wearing one of Woermann’s sweaters, which was far too big for him.
‘Detective Inspector Kintamani,’ Wilfred’s dad said to Nick. ‘I would show you ID, but I’ve left it in my other suit.’
Nick loosened his grip on Sam and stared at him. ‘You’re back for a visit, right?’
‘I’ve come home.’
Nick grinned and yelled back into the house. ‘Dad, put the kettle on! Mum’s gonna need a cup of tea.’
‘Who’s that?’ Michelle trotted from the top of the stairs, a baby in her arms. Beatrice laughed and a burst of sparkles exploded across the room right in Sam’s face. Happy stars. Michelle pulled her dressing gown around her as she saw D.I. Kintamani’s serious face. Then she forgot it and grabbed Sam for a kiss. He caved into her arms.
Michelle smiled at the detective. ‘I’m Michelle Kavanagh, Sam Kavanagh’s …’ Michelle stopped. ‘I mean Sam Woermann’s … I don’t know.’
Richard’s hoot sounded from the kitchen.
They put out an extra cup for the detective, but he shook his head. ‘I can’t stay long, I need to get everyone home and put in a statement, but I will be back.’
Michelle nodded at the detective, then she put her arm around Sam’s shoulder. ‘You were just going to call us yesterday and when you didn’t … I didn’t think we’d see you at all. We’ve been putting in papers to see if we are allowed some access.’
Sam felt so happy to see them, he cried. He couldn’t have been happier but his eyes wouldn’t stop leaking.
Michelle’s eyes weren’t half as wet as his. ‘Have you been all right?’
‘I’m not going back there,’ Sam said.
Nick whooped.
Richard and Michelle looked at each other. ‘You always have a home here, you know that,’ Richard said. ‘But your … father may have a thing or two to say about you staying here.’
D.I. Kintamani frowned. ‘Woermann was never Sam’s father. It’s going to take some time to explain, and first I could do with a change of clothes.’ He lifted his arms and the jumper swam around him. ‘It’s a very odd situation, but I expect you’re used to that with Sam, so bear with us. When I’ve put a statement in, I’ll come back and tell you everything. Let me allow you to get reacquainted, OK? Call me if you need me, Sam.’
‘Where’s your phone?’ Nick asked.
CHAPTER 27
Sam spent the rest of the day with the Kavanaghs, talking to the Kavanaghs, eating with the Kavanaghs, just being with them. He tried to explain what had happened at Woermann Manor, but he was so tired it didn’t even make sense to him. He felt worn out all day.
Michelle shooed him up to his room and came in to give him one more kiss. When she left, he went to the roof to say goodnight to his pack.
He checked the street before scaling the wall past those lovely protective sigils to the roof. Above him, the moon shone, although not as full and sour as it had been the previous night.
‘Hey, Sammy,’ Bladder said when he saw him. Wheedle sucked on a sugar mouse, while Yonah nestled yet again on Spigot’s back; the eagle looked pleased with himself.
‘Yonah! So good to see you,’ Sam said.
Yonah leaned into Sam’s face, rubbing his cheek with her soft white head. Her peace ran through him. Sam stroked her snowy back and she leaned harder, her hot head warming his skin.
‘Where’s Daniel?’
Yonah cooed, Spigot shrieked and Wheedle interpreted. ‘Yonah says he’ll be here any second.’
‘Fantastic,’ Bladder said. ‘Just the person I wanted to see.’
Daniel soared from the clear sky and landed solidly on the roof. He looked better than he had before he went away: his wings were smooth, his hair was glossy, he had a healthy glow, and he put his hand on Sam’s head straight away. Sam felt great.
‘Hello,’ Daniel said. ‘Look at you all staring at me. Is there something you want me to do?’
‘Seriously?’ Bladder said. ‘Now? Your timing is rubbish.’
Wheedle chuckled. ‘I gotta agree with him.’
‘That big bird is the most useless waste of space in the world. Right?’ Bladder shook his head.
Sam was happy to see his friend. ‘Daniel. You’re finished.’
Daniel grinned. ‘Yes, Taki called me a fully qualified archangel. The whole process was exhausting.’
Bladder rolled his eyes.
‘I think we better tell him what happened when he was away,’ Wheedle said.
The angel sat down as Sam and the gargoyles told him about Woermann – now not so much of a problem – but they did need to discuss Titania and Maggie’s plans urgently. Wheedle described how The Hole had changed.
Daniel studied his beautiful hands. He frowned and didn’t say much.
‘I want to see,’ Sam said.
‘No, most definitely not,’ Bladder replied.
‘It’s where I was born,’ Sam
said. ‘No more ogres is one thing, but no more gargoyles?’
‘I said no, Sam,’ Bladder said.
Wheedle shook his head. ‘You know that won’t help – he’ll go when you’re not looking. Haven’t you noticed him, Bladder? He ain’t a scared little imp any more.’
Bladder sighed and squinted at Daniel. ‘Can you put a thingy on his body now, big bird? One that stops other monsters seeing him?’
‘Yes, but it won’t last long,’ Daniel replied. ‘Half an hour, maybe.’
‘Well then, we better be quick. Go on, do it.’
Daniel pressed a thumb into Sam’s forehead. The swirling angel fingerprint brightened his face.
‘Come on, then,’ Bladder said.
‘Angels can’t go into The Hole,’ Sam said.
‘Because of all the despair and grief running loose, no hope and all that guff?’ Bladder asked. ‘Too many monsters to take?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Horsefeathers will be fine then. I told you, it’s nothing like it used to be. Come on.’
Sam listened to the house. The Kavanaghs were organising an outing, a celebration, for after Sam woke up. They didn’t see Bladder’s leonine rump disappear into the grate. Nor did they see Spigot, Wheedle and a white dove drop.
‘Yonah!’ Daniel yelled after her.
Sam stepped towards the gutter.
‘All right.’ Daniel exhaled. ‘If she can do it …’
Sam jumped into The Hole. A sharp spot of divine bird-shaped light moved ahead. Then the whole place filled with Daniel’s light.
The few dark things ahead raced away, frightened by the sunlight that had come downstairs.
The gargoyles set the pace, running through corridors and tunnels until they came to a rough hole in a wall. ‘In there,’ Bladder said.
‘Let me,’ Daniel said, moving with elegance through the dirt wall. His head popped back through. ‘All clear.’
The group stepped one at a time through the entrance.
Sam felt the dankness of The Hole, but something didn’t seem right. It was a graveyard.