The Lunatic's Curse

by F. E. Higgins

  The breakout changed everything, of course. When he realized that the asylum was empty, Gerulphus emerged and found only two people left: Freakley and Mrs Runcible. They didn’t want to leave either. It was their home and for now they had the chance to do what they’d always wanted to do.

  But he had never forgotten Claude’s betrayal.

  And then, incredibly, Claude himself in the guise of Dr Velhildegildus came to the island and Gerulphus saw at last his chance for revenge. But he bided his time. What was a few more days after ten years! Dr Velhildegildus didn’t recognize him he was so thin, but Gerulphus knew exactly who this ‘doctor’ was; how could you forget that square jaw?

  He’d watched them down in the underground chamber, building that thing. He’d heard Tibor and Acantha plotting, and heard the screams of Cecil Notwithstanding as they tortured him. They had left his body in the maze near the torture chamber. Gerulphus felt sorry for him but ultimately saw no reason not to feed him to the fish. Gerulphus picked up the book and turned it over in his hands. The fact that Rex and Hildred had found it was only a minor setback. Yes, the lunatics had burned the books to keep themselves warm, and he had encouraged it, but it would appear that Ambrose had found the most incriminating. Obviously he had read it and then hidden it for Rex.

  That’s what comes of doing people favours, thought Gerulphus. He’d invited them both, Hooper and Ambrose, to stay in the maze for a few days but they were determined to leave. Now he knew why. To think, he’d even given them a couple of diamonds each to help them on their way! ‘No good deed goes unpunished,’ he murmured philosophically.

  He thought of Rex and Hildred in the torture chamber. Should he go down and release them? No. There would be someone over soon enough from Opum Oppidulum, and besides he wanted as much time as possible to get away.

  As for Tibor, what did that man take him for? Did he think that he, Gerulphus Godsacre, was just another feeble-minded fool? He was badly mistaken. Gerulphus was not like those knuckleheads who had tried to swim across the lake. ‘But he needed me tonight, when those children found the book,’ he said softly. ‘Oh yes, I was useful to him then. But did he really think he could pay me off with his diamonds? Did he think that would make up for his betrayal?’

  Gerulphus wondered how far the self-styled doctor had managed to get before the monstrous fish caught up with him; for naturally as soon as Indagator had submerged he had summoned it with his stick.

  Satisfied that everything had worked out as he wished, Gerulphus gathered up his jewels and put them in a dark leather drawstring bag. He looked one last time at the book and then threw it on the fire and watched it burn.

  46

  A Girl of Many Talents

  ‘If I could just reach these manacles I could use my picklock,’ groaned Rex. He looked over at Hildred. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I don’t suppose you heard any of that.’

  He was still reeling from the revelation that she was deaf. He thought back to all the times she seemed in a world of her own, the times she had ignored him, the way she stared at him so intensely, and now it was all crystal clear. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t guessed. She was in her own world: a world of silence. And that was why she stared; she was lip-reading. That’s how she knew what was in the letter from Acantha. She didn’t read it through the paper, she was lip-reading Tibor. And that was how she knew Acantha was coming down to the Indagator. Shecould feel her heavy tread. And, of course, she was completely immune to Tibor’s mesmerizing voice.

  ‘It happened over many years,’ she explained. ‘I can hear some things, high-pitched noises.’

  ‘Like Walter’s whistling?’

  ‘Yes,’ she laughed. ‘And the creature’s singing. They are very similar.’

  ‘The creature’s singing?’

  ‘That monstrous fish, it sings as it approaches. I could feel it when we were on the lake. I think it echoes Walter’s whistling. And I feel things too, with my hands.’

  ‘So that’s why you always felt the walls. That’s how you “heard” the moaning.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Hildred, squirming around on the table in a very odd manner. ‘But now stop talking and let me concentrate.’

  Before Rex realized what was happening she threw off her manacles and sat up.

  ‘That’s better,’ she said, and shook herself quite violently. With a series of clicks and pops she seemed to reassemble her joints. She looked over at Rex with a big smile. ‘I’m a contortionist, remember?’

  Rex laughed softly. ‘You are full of surprises,’ he said. ‘Now, take my picklock, it’s in my pocket, and open these cuffs.’

  When they were both free again Rex went to the door. ‘It’s no use,’ he said. ‘It’s padlocked from the outside.’

  Hildred was unworried. ‘We’ll have to go down into the maze. If we can get to the underground chamber then we can come back through Tibor’s study.’

  ‘But how can we do that?’

  ‘Easy,’ said Hildred. ‘When I followed Gerulphus, I left a trail of bones!’

  ‘You really do think of everything,’ he laughed. Then Hildred frowned. ‘Where’s the book?’

  Rex shook his head. ‘Gerulphus has it.’

  47

  Article from

  GRAMMTICUS DOUBLE TRAGEDY

  by

  Alf Hack

  The ill-fated Grammaticus family have been struck yet again by misfortune. It was reported last night that Mrs Acantha Grammaticus (widow of Ambrose Grammaticus) and Mr Alvar Stradigund, the family solicitor, were both found dead at the dinner tab Grammaticus's house. The local physician has said that it looks like a straightforward case of food poisoning. Diseased meat was found in the kitchen. Constables are searching for the butcher but so far he has not been traced.

  High water levels continue to present problems for Opum Oppidulum, with reports of flooding near the lake shore. The latest Madman's Tide has exceeded all previous records and there are fears that the lower parts of the asylum on Droprock Island, where Mrs Grammaticus's stepson, Rex, was residing under the care of Dr Tibor Velhildegildus, has been flooded. It is unclear whether there are any casualties. As soon as the water subsides a boat will be sent over. At present it is not possible to land.

  The search continues for Cecil Notwithstanding, a dedicated journalist on this very newspaper.

  ‘I think we chose a good time to leave town,’ said Gerulphus, tossing the Hebdomadal behind his seat. He turned to the driver. ‘I see from your cart that you are in the business of pest control.’

  48

  A Letter to Robert

  My dear Robert,

  I believe this will be my last letter to you. Shame will no longer allow me to keep up our friendship, but let me say now that it has meant a great deal to me these last few weeks.

  I have experienced horrors that are a great burden to me and until such a time as I can forgive myself I cannot live as others in the world of men. I want you to remember me as I was; I pray God that you will never know me as I now am.

  I am in good health, I suppose, and I have a purpose, which is a comfort for I believe it is the only thing that keeps me going. I seek a man called Arthur Buttonquail, for I have news of his daughter, but much more than that I cannot say.

  I have found that words are not enough any more. Goodbye, Robert.

  Rex

  SIX YEARS LATER

  IN THE MOUNTAIN VILLAGE OF PAGUS PARVUS

  49

  The Confession of Rex Grammaticus

  ‘I have been told, Mr Zabbidou, that you pay for secrets,’ said the young man.

  Mr Zabbidou nodded and handed the youth a glass of golden liquid. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘And I can tell that yours is a great burden. Take a seat. Have a drink. My assistant here, Ludlow, will write it all down . . . ’

  My name is Rex Grammaticus and it is with great relief that I confess on this page to a secret of the greatest magnitude. It is true that many a child finds just cause for his misbehaviour in his pa
rents’ treatment of him in his formative years, but although I might blame my father for what has taken over my body I cannot say that it was his fault.

  I have lived for years denying what I am, resisting daily the terrible urges that rack my body without warning; but I am not strong and I have given in too many times to mention, when it has become too hard to bear. My father was right – it is a curse.

  I beg you neither to pass judgement on me nor to condemn me, just to listen while I unburden myself.

  Six years ago, still a boy, I was placed in a predicament that was brought about by circumstances wholly beyond my control. After a series of unfortunate occurrences my companion Hildred and I found ourselves in a rocky tortuous maze beneath the old asylum on Droprock Island in the centre of Lake Beluarum. Although we were initially confident of our way to the safety of an underground chamber, by means of strategically placed finger bones, we hadn’t bargained on the rising waters of the lake.

  We made good progress at first but we had only one lantern and the oil was burning rapidly. When we reached the next interchange of tunnels we were distressed to find that the rising water had washed away the markers. The tragedy that unfolded is as fresh in my mind today as it was then . . .

  ‘We must go back,’urged Hildred. ‘If we stay here, we will either drown or succumb to the cold.’

  We attempted to retrace our steps but then disaster struck: the lantern died.

  ‘We will have to feel our way,’ said Hildred, and she took my hand.

  We had barely gone more than ten yards when Hildred stumbled and let go. I heard her scream, and then the most dreadful crunch, and I could not tell whether she was ten feet or a hundred feet below me.

  ‘Hildred!’ I called to her uselessly in the dark, knowing that she could not hear me – she was deaf. I knew what had happened: she had fallen into a hole in the middle of the pathway, a hole we had passed earlier when we had light. I could hear her moaning softly below and I could tell that she was in terrible pain. I went on to my stomach and felt my way in the dark to the edge of the treacherous hole. I reached down and against all hope I touched her hand. Freezing water was seeping up through the rock.

  ‘I’m coming to get you,’ I said, and slipped down into the water. It was knee deep and my breath was taken away by the shock of the coldness. I was feeling all around as best I could in the pitch blackness and then I touched her head and raised it out of the water. She coughed and took a deep breath. She was shivering violently.

  ‘I don’t think I can put my bones back together this time,’ she whispered.

  She couldn’t stand, and every time I moved her she screamed. It took all my strength to drag her back up over the edge of the hole. Exhausted I sank down on to the rocky floor, her head on my lap.

  ‘I’m sorry,’she murmured. ‘For doing this to you, for leading you into danger. I wanted so badly to help you with your father . . . I suppose because I never found out about my own.’

  ‘You’re bleeding,’ I said. I couldn’t help myself. The smell of blood was powerful to me.

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ she whispered, and she brought my hand down to her face and I could feel that she was smiling. ‘If I die,’she whispered, ‘I will be gone. What is left is no more than a shell. Save yourself.’

  I thought she was rambling, from the knock on the head. ‘What are you saying? What do you mean?’ And then I understood and I was enraged. ‘I cannot, I would not!’ I protested.

  ‘Let me feel your heart,’she said. ‘It is a good heart. It’s not your fault.’

  She didn’t speak again.

  I found out later that I sat with Hildred in the dark for nigh on fourteen days and nights. The waters crept higher and higher and I moved further back up the tunnel to avoid them.

  I slaked my thirst easily enough but the hunger was almost unbearable.

  On the fifteenth day I woke from an uneasy sleep. Something was different. The water was retreating and there was a strange blue glow just under the surface. I waded in and to my utter astonishment I scooped up one of the blue lights from Indagator. Now I could see again! Then something brushed against my leg and when I looked down I saw bobbing on the surface my brazen egg. I reached for it but it began to move away, as if of its own accord.

  ‘Could it be?’ I dared to wonder.

  I laid poor Hildred’s remains in one of the cavities in the wall and vowed to come back and afford her a proper burial. Then, holding up the blue light, I followed the egg on its purposeful journey.

  The waters were subsiding quickly but the egg was following its own course, pulled by a force stronger than the water. My body was cold to the core but my heart was hopeful. I followed it through the icy water until, mirabile visu, I saw up ahead the familiar blueness that heralded the underground chamber where I had built Indagator. No man can possibly imagine the depths of my relief at the sight, for now I could make my way out of the maze.

  I stepped into the chamber, only ankle deep in water, and watched the egg float across to a half-submerged metal box near the tunnel entrance and clang up against it. I knew now that the Perambulating Submersible was destroyed – the wreckage was all around me. I recalled the many hours I had spent down here with Dr Velhildegildus, the thieving, murderous lunatic, constructing Indagator. I never did find out how the lunatic impostor got his hands on the plan, and I confess by the end I didn’t care. I was so utterly consumed by vengeful rage as I built it, at his betrayal of me and my father’s work, that I can only think that I too lost my mind. It is the only way I can reconcile myself to the crime; it sickens me to think that I am no better than Acantha.

  And in my madness I used the brazen egg to sabotage the Re-breather, knowing that it would kill Tibor. How ironic then that ultimately my murderous act saved me; for it was the magnetic Re-breather that attracted the egg back to it and led me out of the maze.

  So I am alive and Dr Velhildegildus is dead. He sleeps now eternally but I – I have not slept a full night since . . .

  A Note from F. E. Higgins

  Poor, poor Rex. Would it have been any comfort to him to know that it was not the Re-breather that killed Dr Velhildegildus, but the monstrous creature? But is intention murder, or only the act itself? Rex’s burden was heavy enough without thinking that he was a murderer too.

  And what a burden. Throughout history various cultures have believed that you can gain a man’s strength from eating his body, and that once tasted it is irresistible, but down the years the practice has become a taboo. Rex knew what fate awaited him, the curse his father had talked of, for he had tasted Acantha’s stew. The stew wherein he found Chapelizod’s gold tooth.

  I have tried to find out more about ‘Andrew Faye’ and I have concluded that the name itself was a secret code between cannibals, a way for them to identify each other. Acantha recognized Tibor Velhildegildus as soon as she met him, and he recognized her. He commented on her smell – a secret sign between androphagues, perhaps?

  The fish, Salpa salpa, does exist and is a member of the bream family. Highly toxic, it causes terrible fevers and hallucinations if eaten. Even the monstrous creature was not wholly immune. I do wonder if Mrs Runcible was feeding this very same bream to the warders Gerulphus had jailed down in the secret cell in the maze. That would explain the smell in the tunnels. I also wonder if Rex ever did find Arthur Buttonquail. Perhaps it would have been better if he had not, for he said himself that he had nothing else to live for.

  Let us hope that he got some relief when he finally made his confession to Joe Zabbidou. How interesting, too, that once again we arrive back at the village of Pagus Parvus and Joe Zabbidou and Ludlow Fitch. If you wish to know more about Joe and his young assistant, you will find their story in The Black Book of Secrets. Gerulphus, of course, went off and met Lady Lysandra Mandible. For his story read The Eyeball Collector. And if you wish to know more of Urbs Umida, the Sinister City, then you will find out just how vile a place it is in The Bone Magician.
/>   As for myself, the ever stranger world of Ubigentium, where all these tragic tales have taken place, is calling out once more and try as I might I cannot resist its call.

  What further mysteries await I can hardly imagine, but rest assured, whatever they are, I will tell all . . .

  F. E. Higgins

  Opum Oppidulum

  Appendix I

  Rex’s Re-breather

  Re-breathers have been around since the 1600s. Rex seems to have invented a fairly sophisticated machine and there is no doubt that if it had worked, along with the Perambulating Submersible, it would have been much sought after.

  Chapelizod’s GoldTooth

  It was not uncommon in the past for people to have their initials engraved on gold teeth, a sort of primitive tracker system, I suppose, in case they lost them.

  Steganography and Histaeus

  Steganography (Greek for ‘concealed writing’) is the art of hiding a message in such a way that only the sender and the recipient are aware of its existence. Herodotus, an ancient Greek historian, tells the story of Histaeus and his tattooed slave in his Histories. This story would have been familiar to any educated child in Opum Oppidulum.