by Ruth Fox
They emerged into the Testing Chamber, and Zach steeled himself to pass the cages yet again, but his apprehension was unnecessary. Instead of going back the way he’d come, Morton led him down another corridor and into a small room. The walls were bare rock, supported by steel struts. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, illuminating a narrow bed covered with a thin sheet.
Zach looked over his shoulder at Morton, who stared back impassively.
“Morton?” Zach said. He sensed this was his only chance to talk to his brother alone, and he had to take it. “You can’t seriously be thinking of doing this.”
“You will stay here,” Morton said. He pushed Zach into the room and it wasn’t a gentle gesture; Zach stumbled, and when he turned back, Monster-boy moved to block the door. Zach knew he didn’t have a hope of getting past him, even if he had the urge to try.
“Empty your pockets,” Monster-boy said.
“What?” Zach frowned.
“You heard me!” The voice was stern, commanding. It was not the kind of voice Monster-boy had ever used in Zach’s hearing before. Slowly, Zach reached into his pocket and pulled out the few remaining, half-melted chocolate-coated sultanas.
Monster-boy held out his hand, palm upwards. “And the rest.”
Zach didn’t know how Monster-boy knew about his dismantled watch. He pulled out the pieces and dropped them into Morton’s hand. His adopted brother nodded, satisfied, putting the pieces into the pocket of his jeans.
“What about Mum and Dad?” Zach said. “What about all they’ve done for you? Doesn’t it mean anything that they took you in?”
“I didn’t ask for it. Any of it.” Morton’s response was so cold it sent chills down Zach’s spine. “You think it’s all about you. Did it ever cross your mind that I never wanted a brother, either?”
Zach felt these words like a physical blow. He found the bed behind him and sank down onto it, weakly clutching at the edge to keep himself upright. But Morton said nothing more. He turned on his heel and strode from the room. The sound of a lock clicking was as loud as a gunshot.
Zach looked around the room. It was instinct more than anything. He didn’t expect there to be a way out, and there wasn’t. But there was a vent higher up on the wall. He climbed up on the bed and balanced on his tiptoes to reach the grating, but though he wanted to feel a wet nose snuffling at his fingers, or a soft echoing woof, woof, woof—anything would have been better than being in here alone—all he could feel was cold air. The screws were fixed tightly, and this vent was even smaller than the one that led into the freezer room. He wouldn’t fit more than his hand through even if he managed to unscrew it.
Zach let himself collapse then. He rolled over on the bed to face the wall and tried not to think about what was happening outside.
His mum and dad were probably already freaking out, having woken up and found out he and Morton were gone. His mum would be beside herself. His dad would be tense and anxious. They’d had a hard enough time when Morton went missing. Now both of them had been gone for a full day and a night. And maybe neither of them was coming back . . .
❖ ❖ ❖
He must have slept, but he had no idea how much time had passed when the door clanked open again. Brother stood there, wearing the wristband he shared with Sister, and answered Zach’s question.
“It’s breakfast time.”
Zach felt a moment of relief. He was starving, and Brother must have seen his hopeful look, because he sniggered.
“Not for you, human! Donovan enjoyed your meal so much she wants you to cook for her from now on.”
Zach pulled himself up. He knew his hair was sticking out in all directions, and his eyes were crusted with gunk. His mouth tasted terrible. Somehow, he didn’t think anyone would think to give him a toothbrush.
Instead of leading him back down the corridor and back through the Testing Chamber, Brother ushered Zach the other way, up a short staircase, and through a room that had rough brick walls, but was piled with boxes of construction materials. It looked like they were painting the walls, as well as building some benches in the middle of the room. “Don’t touch those,” Brother said, pushing Zach roughly from behind. “If there’s anything missing from here, they’ll know about it. The builders are coming to start work in a few minutes.”
“What’s this room going to be?” Zach asked
“Another Testing Chamber, of course,” replied Brother with a chilling smile. “Oh yes, we’re going to have plenty of children coming through here. We need the space to house them all.”
“How—” Zach took a breath. “How can you keep taking kids, though? They’re going to stop you eventually.”
“Stop us?” Brother laughed. “They’ll be giving them to us willingly once we begin the revolution. Kids like you and your little friends will just be lined up and marched out, straight into the Grotto. Don’t you get it? The monsters will be in charge.”
Zach got it, all right, but Brother kept talking. “It’s going to be a new era,” he said as he shoved Zach out of the room. They were back in the corridor near the elevator. Brother fit the wristband into the keyhole, and jabbed Zach in the back with one of his twenty fingers to get him to step inside as the doors slid open. “Humans will do our dirty jobs, like cleaning toilets and scrubbing drains. We’ll be the ones living the high life in your fancy mansions . . .”
“Not all our houses are mansions. Actually, mine only has two bedrooms, and I have to share.” Zach said, even though he knew Brother and Sister had lost everything they owned. Having a house with two bedrooms probably did seem like unimaginable luxury.
The elevator ground to a halt. They were back at the kitchens, where Sister was waiting impatiently. She snatched the wristband from Brother, ignoring his hissing protest.
“What are you cooking today?” she asked eagerly.
❖ ❖ ❖
It was a strange way to pass the morning, cooking with two monsters. Zach made some thick porridge with oats and barley, and sprinkled it with sugar and some crystallised honey scraped from the bottom of a jar. Sister reluctantly handed over the wristband when Brother took it down to Donovan, his mouth watering so obviously that Zach wondered if the meal would reach its destination intact.
He scraped the remnants from the pot while Sister wasn’t looking, and gobbled them down. It was a pretty awful breakfast, lumpy and slightly scorched, but he knew he had to eat. It quelled the hunger pangs and gave him the strength of mind to think about what to make for lunch.
When Brother came back, he was carrying the empty bowl and spoon, as well as more news.
“The fighting has gotten worse. They’ve dragged some of the humans away, you know; locked them up in a shed. They’re saying they’ll use them for ransom. If they last that long! There’s one big fellow who won’t shut up, hurling insults around; he’s making the Trolls angry.”
Zach knew just who that “big fellow” was. Mr. Majewski certainly wouldn’t appreciate being locked up by the monsters. Zach was surprised that his ire ran deep enough for him to continue to hurl insults to them face-to-face. He’d been thinking of the man as an overgrown school bully, whose strength came from the support of his followers, and who would probably back down once he faced real danger. But now . . . now, the butcher probably had a real reason to hate the monsters.
“It’s really starting, isn’t it?” Sister replied, wonder in her voice. “I admit, I had doubts . . .”
Brother grinned, showing his pointed teeth. “Doubts! The Grelgoroth doesn’t believe in doubts, and—”
“And I believe in the Grelgoroth,” Sister agreed. “And his messenger.”
“Morton Highborn,” said Brother in a reverential whisper, shaking his head. “Who would have thought we would live to see Bertram Highborn’s grandson rise to his rightful place?”<
br />
There was conviction in his voice. They both truly believed the Grelgoroth could lead them to victory. They believed Morton was the key to it all.
Zach was shocked to realise that he believed it, too. Monster-boy was strong enough to lead an army. He’d seen the fire in his brother’s eyes. If anyone could lead the monsters to victory, it was him.
The pot began to boil over, and Zach rushed to save it. For lunch he was making a stew out of some canned plums, a handful of dried chickpeas and some bits and pieces of partly-mouldy carrot. “You know, if I’m going to keep cooking, you’ll need to get some fresh food.”
“Oh, don’t you worry. Once the revolution begins, you’ll have all the fresh food you need.”
Zach felt a cold shiver as he looked into the bubbling pot. Was this going to be his life from now on? Cooking meals for Donovan so she could continue her gruesome work?
Zach wondered if he could poison her. It would be easy enough to put some of the rotten food into the stew. It would give her a stomach-ache if nothing else. Could he really intentionally do that, knowing that Donovan might die? He didn’t like to think so. But, hot on the heels of that thought came another: was he afraid? Was he too weak? Too human? An inner voice snarled at him. Do you think she would hesitate to drain the life out of you—and your friends—if she decided you were no more use to her?
There was another interruption at about mid-morning, while Zach was sorting through some rusty tins. Sister was pacing back and forth at one end of the room, and Brother had made a game out of tossing some dried beans into a battered old mug. The door crashed open, admitting Crest-head. “Food!” he said. “I need something to take up to the human prisoners above. Though why they should be given food, I don’t know. Donovan’s orders.”
“They’ll probably be useful as snacks for the Grelgoroth, once he’s regained his strength enough from the children,” explained Sister.
Zach poured some of the stew into a second pot, glad that he’d made more than enough. “So how many are there?” he asked nonchalantly. “I need to know how much to give them.”
“Half a dozen, though one of em’s big enough for three,” growled Crest-head.
“Are they still making a fuss, master?” Sister asked.
“They’ve quietened down a lot now, since it doesn’t seem like they’re getting rescued anytime soon.” Crest-head sneered. “We helped with that. A few warning gunshots—you should have heard them scream.”
He took the pot from Zach and left, taking Sister with him to help. Zach, left alone with Brother, thought he would chance another question. “You don’t think they’ll kill them, do you?”
Brother shrugged. “They’re only humans. But if Donovan wanted them dead, they would be.”
It wasn’t quite the reassurance that Zach had hoped for. Even if he hated Mr. Majewski, and despised what he was campaigning for, he didn’t want him, or his followers, to die. But even if they were spared, they’d still end up fodder for the Grelgoroth, sucked dry of their life forces, or turned into slaves when the monsters took over.
“She’s using them as bait,” Zach said suddenly. “Isn’t she? She wants the humans to attack, so she’s keeping the prisoners there . . .”
Brother shrugged again. He didn’t care, one way or the other. Zach looked down at his stew, wondering if he should try to poison it after all. If Donovan became ill, they might avoid this nightmare. But then, what about Monster-boy? He was the Grelgoroth’s figurehead now, not Donovan. Could Zach kill him as well? If it meant saving Mr. Majewski’s life, could he kill his brother?
“Donovan wants you to take down lunch.”
Sister’s voice interrupted Zach’s thoughts, and he jumped, not having realised she’d come back through the door. He poured some stew into a bowl, and followed her down the corridor to the elevator.
She wasn’t paying as close attention to him this time. She was confident now that he wouldn’t try anything—and to an extent, Zach realised miserably, she was right.
He didn’t want to go back into the Testing Chamber, but he had no choice. It wasn’t any less horrific than it had been last night, Zach saw. The machines still whirred and beeped. The lights shone brightly, illuminating the stark walls. There were still two prone forms on the beds, and Donovan was leaning over Fiona. The retainer was back in place, slowly filling with bright, swirling mist. Zach tried not to look at Ida, still lying in the next bed.
“This one’s almost done,” Donovan was saying to one of the assistants. She pointed towards Ida. “Get this one ready—we’ll start on her next.”
She turned and saw Zach standing behind her, Sister by his side. “Ah! There you are. Oh, that’s not for me,” she waved the bowl away as he presented it. “I’m far too busy to stop. You’ll need to take that down to Master Highborn—he’s requested a meal. He’s deep in conversation with the Grelgoroth, which I imagine is hungry work.”
“You mean I have to go back down—” Zach gulped. As bad as the Testing Chambers were, the Grotto was worse. And he didn’t know how he was going to be able to look Morton in the eye again.
“You can take this down with you,” said Donovan, releasing the retainer from its stand. Zach noticed her expression. It was pained, mournful. “The Grelgoroth has asked that you be the one to feed him from now on.”
Zach didn’t want to take the retainer again, didn’t want to fall back under the spell of that shifting, beautiful mist. He handed the bowl to Sister and took the retainer in its place, trying not to think about anything. Just do it and get it over with. Just go down, feed the Grelgoroth, give the meal to Morton, and come back up. Don’t think about anything else . . .
The glow of the retainer shone through his fingers, turning them bright red. His thoughts started to slip away again. He marched past the rows of cages. He wouldn’t look at Lex. He couldn’t look. He did look—and there she was, her pale face slack, her eyes closed, and her body slumped lifelessly against the wall of the cage—but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t care about anything except the retainer in his hands.
He wasn’t aware of descending the steps again, or of Sister trailing behind him, looking more and more nervous. He wasn’t aware of stepping through the stone door into the Grotto, or of Morton, sitting at the base of the Grelgoroth’s throne. He was only aware of the Grelgoroth looming up ahead of him, so huge and powerful.
“Aaaaahhh,” sighed the Grelgoroth. “You’ve come.”
Sister sucked in a deep breath and fell to her knees as Zach stepped forward.
“You’ve brought me something new,” said the Grelgoroth. Greedy light shone in his large, milky eyes. “Give it to me.”
Zach held up the retainer. His hands were steady as he removed the top. The Grelgoroth breathed in, its huge torso expanding with the effort. The mist inside swirled, then was sucked in through the Grelgoroth’s nose and mouth.
Zach felt like he could breathe once more.
“That was delightful.” The Grelgoroth rumbled. Its small arms flapped at its sides. “Morton, you must eat.”
“You,” Morton called to Sister. “Bring that to me.”
Sister scrambled to her feet and hurried forwards. At the last moment, she tripped, and the bowl flipped upwards. As quick as a lizard catching a fly on its tongue, Morton’s hand whipped out, catching the bowl, but Sister sprawled on the ground.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the monster woman whispered, clambering to her feet and wiping some splattered stew from her cheek, then reaching out to wipe some from Morton’s t-shirt—only to stop at the last second, horrified that she’d attempted to touch him. Morton’s eyes narrowed, his lips twisted upwards in a grin, and he upended the bowl on Sister’s head.
She gave a shocked little gasp. The stew dripped down her face and onto her shoulders. A chunk of sloppy carrot slid down her foreh
ead.
“Aaaaahhhaaahhaaahhaaa!” boomed the Grelgoroth.
Morton waved a hand at Sister. “Go. Get out of here.”
“I’ll fetch you some more,” Sister whimpered.
“GO!” Morton shouted, and Sister went, scurrying like a rat.
Zach was once again left alone with Morton and the Grelgoroth.
“Maybe I should go too?” he asked, putting the lid back on the retainer and straightening, hoping that the answer would be “yes.”
“No,” said the Grelgoroth. “I enjoyed our conversation yesterday. After all this time, I must say it’s nice to speak with humans again.”
“You’ve got everyone in this whole building to talk to,” Zach reminded him.
The Grelgoroth shook its huge head from side to side. “You are the one I want to talk to. You and . . .” It’s wide mouth curved in a smile. “Monster-boy. You are the ones who will change things.”
“I thought you said yesterday I was just a pathetic human,” Zach said carefully. Once more, the glow of the Virya was fading, and he was feeling more like his normal scared and hesitant self.
“Oh, you are!” the Grelgoroth said. “You are nothing but a speck of dust in the universe, but even the slightest ripple in the ocean might become a wave when it reaches the shore . . .” The smile on the Grelgoroth’s face stretched even wider. “You are a catalyst, little human. It is you who will start this war. You and Monster-boy.”
Zach’s gaze flicked towards Morton. His brother stood motionless, listening to everything, but his face was in shadow. What was he thinking?
“It’s already begun,” the Grelgoroth continued.