P.N.E. (The Wolfblood Prophecies Book 4)

by Silk, Avril

  ‘Who’s got a secret admirer, then?’ teased the tall, thin, impossibly handsome young man with the long black hair and the drooping moustache.

  ‘Quinn, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about,’ demurred his beautiful, red-headed girlfriend.

  ‘I mean that old rich guy who keeps hanging around. He can’t take his eyes off you, Lethe. And you know it, babe.’

  Jo nearly laughed out loud to hear anyone call her aunt babe. Then her eyes were like saucers as Quinn produced a painted tobacco tin and started rolling a joint. The tin was the twin of one her mother had.

  ‘You needn’t worry about Titus,’ smiled Lethe. ‘I’ve got him exactly where I want him. But I have an almost unbeatable rival for your affections…’

  Quinn looked embarrassed. ‘I’m totally over Ali,’ he mumbled. ‘And she’s over me. She’s with Paul now. We’re cool.’

  ‘I did not mean my stupid sister,’ said Lethe tartly. ‘And incidentally she is emphatically not cool.’

  ‘Hey, babe! Hang loose! There’s no-one else,’ protested Quinn. ‘And you know it.’

  Lethe was annoyed that the joke she had planned had gone wrong. Her mouth tightened and she looked sulky. Quinn noticed. He seemed crestfallen for a moment, but Jo saw a calculating expression flit across his face.

  He shrugged and took a drag. ‘Your choice, babe. Believe what you want. Stress out or chill out.’

  Their eyes met as he handed her the spliff. Jo sensed the tension and the challenge that lit the spark between them. She knew Quinn was totally besotted, but he had the good sense to hide it.

  Lethe was reluctant to surrender the upper hand. She waited an extra beat before relenting, then with a sigh she rolled her eyes theatrically, placed the joint between her lips and inhaled deeply. She pointed to the tobacco tin. ‘I meant him, dingbat.’

  Quinn studied his painting of Bob Dylan thoughtfully. ‘He’s the man,’ he said slowly and reverently, then he turned Lethe’s face to his. ‘But you’re the one…’ He sang a line from a Dylan song. ‘All I really want to do…’ then whispered softly in Lethe’s ear. She blushed and laughed, then Jo studied the sky as they kissed passionately.

  Jo really wished she was somewhere else. She felt extremely uncomfortable. She was considering making a run for it when she saw another couple walking hand in hand towards the grove. Hardly able to believe her eyes Jo realised she was looking at her mother and father. Coming up for air Lethe spotted them as well, and groaned. ‘It’s little Goody Two Shoes,’ she scoffed, and she provocatively pressed herself closer to Quinn.

  Jo stared at her parents. Paul had hair to his shoulders and a moustache like a Mexican bandit. His denim jeans had floral patches and inserts so they flared and billowed round his ankles. His tie-dye T-shirt was a rainbow sunburst on a purple background. Round, blue sunglasses and a twelve-string guitar completed the outfit.

  Fascinated, Jo turned to study Ali. With a shock she realised that the long cream-coloured cheesecloth dress she was wearing still hung in Ali’s wardrobe. A floaty rainbow scarf, capacious patchwork bag, bare feet and huge Jackie Kennedy sunglasses reminded Jo that her parents always joked about being hippies before hippies were hip. She’d seen old black and white Polaroids of their college days but it came as a surprise to see how vibrant and full of life they were in the flesh.

  Lethe raked her sister from head to toe. ‘Well, if it isn’t Little Bo-Peep,’ she sneered. ‘I assume you are aiming for the shepherdess look?’ She wrinkled her nose in disgust. ‘And what is that frightful smell? Has someone lit a joss stick?’

  ‘It’s patchouli,’ answered Ali defiantly. ‘Chanel Number Five is so predictable, I think.’

  Lethe was unfazed. ‘I think you mean classic and divinely expensive.’ She continued her catalogue of disdain. ‘And where on earth did you get that appalling scarf? It looks like it was woven by half-witted hobbits in Middle Earth. I wouldn’t be seen dead wearing it.’

  ‘Well, that’s a first. Something that belongs to me that you don’t intend to steal!’

  As the sisters traded insults Paul and Quinn eyed each other warily, then Quinn shrugged, grinned, passed the joint and Paul started strumming his guitar. Jo recognised the familiar chords of Mr Tambourine Man.

  ‘Heard him play it at the Festival Hall in May,’ said Quinn nonchalantly.

  ‘Hey, man – me too!’ said Paul excitedly and they talked nineteen to the dozen about set lists, chord changes and backing musicians until Ali and Lethe abandoned their sniping and joined in the discussion; Ali enthusiastically, Lethe less so.

  After a while Lethe sighed theatrically. ‘Fascinating as this undoubtedly is,’ she drawled, I simply must drag myself away and do something that really matters.’

  ‘What are you plotting that’s so important?’ teased Ali.

  ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out,’ replied Lethe loftily and she strode away to a chorus of cheerful banter about being a woman of mystery.

  As the others strolled happily away, Jo watched them go with a heavy heart, knowing that the future held bitter rivalry, betrayal and worse.

  Matthew saw her looking glum. ‘Come on, Jo,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a little time to kill. Let’s have a look round the fairground, and see if we can find Titus and Lethe’s secret laboratories.’

  Matthew and Jo joined a crowd of people heading to the Lost Funfair of Forgotten Dreams. Jo felt quite put out as she and Matthew were jostled far more than seemed necessary. She glared and used her elbows but it made no difference. People were too excited to notice or care.

  They crossed a smartly painted wooden bridge to the entrance booth. As Jo looked down, remembering her last visit, when the bridge was damaged and dangerous, she realised the funfair had been built in the huge crater left behind after the explosion that killed her grandfather. The woman behind the counter waved everyone through. ‘Free admission today, folks! Have a great day!’

  Jo recognised a door just ahead, and for a split second wondered whether to surprise Matthew. Better not. Don’t want him having a heart attack, she thought, and whispered, ‘It’s a Helter Skelter!’

  ‘I know,’ he whispered back, and with that they were through the door and whooping with delight as they descended at breakneck speed, landing with an almighty thump in the middle of the maize maze.

  ‘You’ll be telling me next you know the way through the maze,’ laughed Jo.

  ‘Indeed I do, Carruthers!’ He laughed like a schoolboy. He seemed exhilarated by their descent.

  ‘How about the Mirror Maze? It’s fiendishly difficult.’

  ‘Copy that!’

  Jo stared at Matthew blankly. ‘Copy what?’

  Matthew blushed. He rarely used slang. ‘Um, it means Understood. Radio jargon.’

  ‘Oh. OK. Roger and out, then.’

  ‘Indeed! Although, strictly speaking, the and is redundant… Jo gave him a look. He coughed apologetically, then with a ringing cry of ‘Follow me!’ he set off purposefully.

  In a remarkably short time they were at the entrance to the maze. Ahead of them were the sideshows and rides. Jo remembered the enormous Ferris wheel and the macabre carousel, with its skeleton horses and eerie purple and green lighting. When Jo had first seen it, it looked sinister and terrifying. Today the riders screamed – but they were screams of delight.

  She looked back at the Helter Skelter, marvelling at how high it was. It dominated the skyline. Instead of the normal candy stripes it was painted with red, orange and gold flames. The artwork was so realistic, Jo was shocked. Unwelcome recollections flooded her mind.

  ‘You’ve gone quiet, Jo,’ observed Matthew.

  ‘It all burned like wildfire.’ She shuddered. ‘I don’t have many good memories of this place.’

  ‘Understandable. But we have a golden opportunity to find out more about Titus and Lethe’s plots. You think the secret laboratories are in the Tunnel of Love and the Mirror Maze. Jo nodded. ‘Right. Let’s reconnoitre!
’

  Jo felt distinctly unenthusiastic, and it showed. ‘Can’t we just mooch about first?’ she asked. ‘Try some of the rides that aren’t connected with my worst nightmares?’

  Matthew checked his watch. ‘I have to be somewhere else in forty minutes,’ he said firmly, ‘so we don’t have much time.’

  Jo pulled herself together. She saw the entrance to Mirabel’s Dream, festooned with pink and red fairy lights and crimson hearts. As a golden gondola floated slowly past Jo heard again the familiar schmaltzy music and resigned herself to a headful of uncomfortable recollections.

  ‘It’s going to be really weird,’ she sighed. ‘Pretend you’re my grandfather.’

  They joined the queue, waiting patiently for the next spare gondola. As Jo scanned the people milling around the fairground, she spotted a familiar face. ‘Hey,’ she whispered excitedly, nudging Matthew. ‘Look! There’s younger you!’

  Matthew looked at the man chatting with a group of students. ‘So it is. Interesting… and disturbing. Best not to bump into him - me, I think. It might set up ripples in time and space that change everything.’ He looked very uneasy.

  Jo teased him gently. ‘I thought you didn’t hold with that theory?’

  ‘I don’t. Not exactly. But…’ His voice trailed off.

  ‘Matthew! It is not like you to dither!’

  ‘I find myself torn. Despite my scepticism, it just might be possible to affect the future, and I don’t want to risk it for something trivial such as coming face to face with myself.’

  ‘But for the mysterious task you’re planning you might make an exception?’

  ‘Who taught you to be so persistent?’

  ‘Well, you, for starters!’

  ‘Touché. Sometimes a million to one chance is all there is. Now please desist from probing and trying to read my mind!’ His face cleared and his voice sounded relieved. ‘Look – here’s our gondola. Hop in!’

  As they took their places Jo was surprised when a young soldier and his girlfriend clambered in with them and started kissing passionately, ignoring them completely.

  Jo raised her eyebrows at Matthew and he grimaced sympathetically. The romantic music played softly, and the perfume of roses filled the air. Jo tried very hard to forget how, years into the future, in this same place, Smokey turned to Beth for comfort instead of her. She concentrated instead on spotting the narrow jetty Hawk had described. To avoid disturbing their deeply engrossed travelling companions, she emped Matthew.

  There. That’s the jetty. Titus’s laboratory is through a door behind the curtain.

  Roger, Carruthers. Location noted. Next stop, the Mirror Maze!

  As they approached the Mirror Maze Matthew studied the posters lining the entrance.

  ROLL RIGHT UP AND SEE THE FREAKS!

  NATHAN SLAUGHTER – INDIAN KILLER!

  REAL SCALPS ON DISPLAY

  THE MIDGET AND THE GIANT

  A MARRIAGE MADE IN HELL

  ‘Fascinating,’ he breathed. ‘How times change. Or do they? I suspect that P.T. Barnum would be completely at home in the modern world.’

  Jo resisted asking who P. T. Barnum was. She sensed an imminent monologue on the history of freak shows, and sidestepped neatly. She wanted to get this over with. ‘It’s nearly time for your mysterious appointment with destiny,’ she reminded Matthew.

  With a wrench he dragged himself back to the present. ‘Of course. We’ll just, um, case the joint then I will have to go. Oh, and for your information, P.T Barnum was an American showman. He is best remembered for hoaxes, pranks, circuses and so-called freak-shows…’

  ‘You just couldn’t resist, could you?’ Jo grinned.

  Matthew had the grace to blush. ‘An investment in knowledge pays the best interest. Benjamin Franklin said that.’ Jo sighed. Matthew smiled ruefully and corralled his wide-ranging thoughts. ‘Meanwhile, the Mirror Maze awaits!’

  Jo took a deep breath and opened the black, chrome-spiked door.

  ‘Here we go,’ she said to Matthew, and they went into the hall of mirrors.

  The dazzling brightness took her breath away. She and Hawk had been so busy rescuing Smokey there had been no time to really appreciate the intricate maze of silver mirrors; the gleaming white marble pillars; the glittering fairy lights.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she whispered, then gasped with shock as she stared into a mirror. ‘I can’t see my reflection!’

  ‘It’s just a trick of the light,’ reassured Matthew. ‘Smoke and mirrors – an illusion. Now where’s the door you mentioned?’

  Jo stood rooted to the spot, remembering the moment when, with a great cracking sound, the Mirror Maze started to shatter. Aunt Lethe had stood, transfixed, in a storm of cascading shards, as her beautiful face was sliced to ribbons. And later, when she had begged Jo to help her, Jo had hardened her heart and walked away. Her eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Time is of the essence, Jo,’ prompted Matthew gently.

  Through a blur she tried to remember where the door was. She had glanced back as she, Smokey and Hawk were leaving. Lethe was trapped in the relentless rain of glass, and as the mirror behind her shattered and fell, Jo caught a glimpse of a secret door.

  Willing herself to be strong, Jo went to the exit, then turned and looked back into the maze. In her mind’s eye she saw where Lethe had stood screaming, her face slashed and bleeding, in front of a black-edged mirror etched with the words Sorrows past and future pain. Jo walked towards it and looked for a hidden catch.

  ‘Perhaps it just slides,’ said Matthew, and he was right. Behind the mirror was a narrow passage way and the door Jo had seen.

  Matthew carefully slid the door closed. ‘I have to go,’ he said reluctantly, ‘but we will come back tonight and find out just what Lethe and Titus are hiding.’

  ‘Can I come with you now?’ Jo’s heart wasn’t in the question as she already knew the answer.

  ‘Sorry, Jo. I’ll be better on my own. I need to concentrate and find exactly the right moment to intervene. I’ll meet you back at the elm grove – say in an hour and a half. Can you entertain yourself until then?’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  Once Matthew had gone Jo wandered aimlessly round the fairground for a while but just being there made her feel miserable. Wherever she looked there were reminders of the terrible things that had happened there. She decided to check out the study centre as that, at least, had no sad or bad memories connected with it.

  As she made her way to the exit she hoped with all her heart that Matthew’s mysterious mission would soon be accomplished so they could go home. She was longing to see her parents and Calico again.

  As is sometimes the case, Jo’s wish partly came true, but not in the way she expected. Just outside the fairground she saw Paul and Ali. She was heading straight for them but felt instinctively they shouldn’t meet. She ducked out of sight behind a billboard, then realised they were having an argument.

  Paul looked really uncomfortable, but he was standing his ground. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m not going there again. It’s just freaks and flea circuses.’

  Jo had never seen her mother being petulant before. ‘That’s not fair, Paul. There are some really interesting sideshows…’

  Paul interrupted. ‘Oh yeah, like a waxwork massacre of my father’s people? Well worth queuing up for, I don’t think.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that. But some of the rides are fun…’

  ‘Especially the Tunnel of Love,’ said Paul flatly. ‘I hear you and Quinn had a great time.’

  ‘You came on it as well. Weren’t you on some kind of a date with my sister?’

  ‘I went on the damn thing once, with you, Quinn and Lethe. It was not a date. She wasn’t interested in me; it was Quinn she wanted. She just asked me along to make up the numbers. For the record, I wasn’t interested in her either. You and Quinn weren’t bothered about anyone apart from each other. I had a thoroughly rotten time. Nothing beats being a gooseberry to love�
�s young dream.’

  Ali sighed, exasperated. ‘Let it go, Paul. I’m with you now. Don’t spoil it by being jealous and childish.’

  ‘People say if it hadn’t been for Lethe you and Quinn were going to get married.’

  ‘Quinn’s not the marrying kind,’ answered Ali.

  ‘Well, I am.’

  Ali was visibly taken aback. She seemed lost for words. When she did speak her voice was stern. ‘If this is your idea of a proposal, Paul Lakota, you must be crazy.’ He looked so crestfallen she relented slightly. ‘I’ll think of it as a dress rehearsal. Meanwhile, I’m going to the fair, whether you like it or not, then I need to work on my essay, so I’ll see you later.’

  Paul raised his eyes to the heavens. ‘Just a bit vague, babe. Later when and where?’

  Ali wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook. ‘Depends on what comes up.’

  ‘I need to know, Ali. I’m hanging out with some of the guys for a jam session this afternoon… laying down some tracks… we could even pull an all-nighter. But I’d rather be with you…’

  Ali laughed. ‘Don’t overdo it! Late evening, I guess. I’ll leave a note in your pigeon-hole when I’ve finished here. Oh, and Paul, I warn you, I’ll be expecting something romantic!’

  Chapter Thirteen - Check Mate

  As Jo wandered round the campus she noticed Matthew standing outside the partly open window of Mary Montgomery’s laboratory. She couldn’t resist creeping closer. He seemed oblivious to her presence as he studied the woman who had loved him all her life, and who would, in their old age, become his second wife. He could clearly see that she was very nervous. She kept glancing at the door, obviously expecting someone.

  Matthew was relieved that he had calculated the timing correctly. He tried not to chuckle when he heard Mary firmly tell herself, in her best school-mistress voice, to get a grip. She breathed deeply, composing herself, mastering her anxiety so when the awaited knock finally came she seemed ice-cool, commanding and authoritative.