The Book of Beasts

by John Barrowman

  I hate it when he does that.

  Aw, I think it’s sweet. You’re still his wee bairn.

  Zach scowled at Em, who laughed and wolfed down her lunch.

  ’We need those papers,’ said Renard, banging his hand down on the kitchen table emphatically. ‘Duncan Fox is the only Animare in recent history to have witnessed the opening of Hollow Earth. He is the only person who can offer us any insights about what to expect if Malcolm succeeds in his insane plan to do the same.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to go back to 1848 and ask him ourselves?’ said Em. ‘I know,’ she added hurriedly as Renard reddened with anger. ‘No time travel until we have a plan, but—’

  ‘Emily Calder, no buts! We don’t know enough about what time travel does to your mind, or to your body for that matter. We do it my way, or we don’t do it at all!’

  Em’s eyes filled with tears. Her grandfather had never yelled at her like that before. Zach sat forward watchfully.

  ‘I’m sorry, Em,’ Renard said in a more gentle tone. ‘I’m worried about Matt and Jeannie… and you.’

  He leaned over and drew her into a big hug. For a few beats Em felt as safe and loved and as comforted as she had in ages. She desperately wanted to tell him that she had a plan, but she couldn’t… not yet. She gave him a watery smile instead.

  Renard pulled his glasses from his head and tapped them on the table. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘on with the hunt.’

  Em watched her grandfather head back to the library with a mug of tea in his hand. Her feelings were a confused mixture of anxiety and anger. She suspected that Renard had just inspirited her, quieting her emotions enough to sense that she was lying to him.

  THIRTY-ONE

  The folder refused to be found.

  ‘Maybe you left it sitting on the postbox when you fetched the post, Renard,’ said Sandie, pouring Zach and Em glasses of milk. ‘I’ve done that before.’

  ‘Zach and I can walk down to the postbox and check if you like,’ Em suggested.

  She did her best to project an image in her mind of Jeannie making dumplings to protect her thoughts from Renard’s penetrating gaze.

  Renard turned to Simon. ‘Are you sure the compound hasn’t been breached? I’ve been feeling strange since yesterday. Something’s up, I can feel it.’ He rubbed the back of his neck.

  ‘I’ll walk the wall again and check for residual light from an animation,’ said Simon, ‘but you did only wake from your coma a couple of weeks ago. It’s been a stressful few days.’

  ‘Have some lunch, Renard,’ said Sandie. ‘Think on a full stomach.’

  Renard sat at the counter and accepted his toasted cheese. ‘Ah, the lunch of kings,’ he said wryly.

  ‘I’m doing my best,’ Sandie protested. ‘I thought I’d try Jeannie’s chicken pesto recipe for dinner.’ She eyed Simon. ‘If Simon ever gets around to picking basil from the garden.’

  ‘No sooner said than done,’ answered Simon, opening a kitchen drawer. He rummaged around for a few seconds, a frown forming on his face. ‘That’s weird,’ he said, turning round empty-handed. ‘Jeannie’s garden scissors aren’t in their usual place.’

  Em saw the garden scissors flash into her mind. She knew exactly where they were. She stood up from the table, tightening her concentration so as not to allow Renard access to her thoughts as she slowly and deliberately loaded her empty plate and glass into the dishwasher.

  ‘Try the shed. Maybe she left them down there,’ said Renard.

  ‘I doubt it,’ said Simon. ‘She really splurged to buy these. I can’t see her leaving them in that damp old hut.’

  ‘I was in there this morning getting a rake… to clean up the beach,’ said Em quickly. ‘The only things in there are the mower and bags of potting soil.’

  Zach frowned at her. When were you in Jeannie’s shed? You hate being in there. It’s full of spiders.

  Em had been ignoring Zach a lot lately. She felt bad about it, but she had to keep him out of her mind at the moment. She tried not to look at the hurt expression on his face.

  Renard glanced suspiciously at them both. So did Simon.

  ‘What’s going on with you two?’ said Sandie, looking at Em and Zach more closely. ‘You’ve been strange with each other all morning. Something we should know about?’

  ‘Ask Em,’ Zach signed, shrugging.

  ‘Nothing’s going on!’ Em protested, doing her best to avoid eye contact with Renard.

  Renard raised his eyebrows. ‘I doubt that’s the truth, but I won’t press you.’

  What you don’t know won’t hurt you.

  As soon as she thought it, Em knew from the look on Renard’s face that she’d made a mistake.

  ‘If we’re going to work out a plan to retrieve Matt and Jeannie from the Middle Ages before Malcolm uses one or both of them to access Hollow Earth,’ her grandfather said, looking sharply at her, ‘then we need to work together. And that means no more secrets.’

  Em could feel his accusation like a flashing neon light in her mind.

  ‘Understood?’

  Em nodded meekly.

  ‘Me too,’ signed Zach.

  Renard headed out to the foyer. He turned back at the door. ‘Em and Zach, come to my study after you’ve checked the front gate for the folder. I believe we need to talk.’

  Em breathed a sigh of relief as her grandfather left. He was getting too close to the truth for comfort. She glanced at Zach, but he wouldn’t look at her.

  ‘Now this is really a bit much,’ said Sandie, making a lot of noise shifting dishes around in the cupboard above the cooker. ‘I wanted to follow Jeannie’s recipe to the letter and use her pestle and mortar to crush the garlic and pine nuts, and I can’t find them.’

  ‘What’s wrong with the food processor?’ asked Simon.

  ‘I thought I’d do it Jeannie’s way,’ Sandie answered, her voice catching in her throat. ‘Without gadgets. Matt… Matt always loved it.’

  Em couldn’t bear the sadness on her mother’s face. Rushing across the kitchen, she hugged Sandie. ‘Matt and Jeannie are both going to be all right, Mum,’ she said. ‘I can feel it.’

  Sandie cupped Em’s face in her hands. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’m just worried about them. But I have faith in Renard. He’ll find a way to bring them both home safely.’ Dropping a kiss on Em’s head, she moved back briskly to the cooker. ‘Are you and Zach happy to take a walk down the lane and check for that missing folder by the postbox? Simon will de-animate the shield for you.’

  THIRTY-TWO

  The winding driveway snaked from the iron gate off Auchinmurn’s main road to the Abbey’s massive oak door. Centuries ago, the lane had been a camouflaged trail that pirates used for smuggling their contraband inland from the island’s hidden coves. Now cultivated with low hedgerows and trimmed trees, its original stone-and-shell gravel tarred and smooth, the driveway was the only access to the Abbey other than from the sea or through the dense woods north of the wall.

  Up ahead shafts of sunlight filtered through the trees, creating long shadows across their path. Em watched them shift and stretch as she walked, and was soon imagining the shadows peeling themselves from the ground and rising up like tall tin soldiers to lead the way.

  The surface of the tar rippled in the sunlight. Em stopped, suddenly afraid of what the shadows might become.

  Zach stared at her curiously. ‘You OK?’

  A salty breeze rustled the trees, a cloud sliced across the sun, and the shadows vanished. Em exhaled slowly, relaxing her muscles and her mind. She was pleased that her lessons with Simon about controlling her imagination were paying off. The tall tin soldiers stayed inside her head, where they belonged.

  ‘I thought I saw a deer,’ she signed to Zach, determined to keep her emotions in check and her conversation light.

  Zach’s anxiety for Matt made Em sad. Not the kind of sadness that she felt about Matt being gone – that felt as if a hole had opened in her heart, a hole that made h
er gasp for breath at the oddest moments. But the kind of sadness that makes you want to cheer the person up, to make them smile, to help shake it off, to make their heart lighter.

  ‘Do you want to race to the gate?’ Em signed, nudging him with her elbow.

  ‘Not really.’ He rolled an acorn in his hand, before tossing it into the air and kicking it into the surrounding trees. He stepped off the path and into the long grass to gather up more acorns.

  What’s going on with you, Em?

  Em flinched. Nothing.

  Don’t lie to me.

  I’m not.

  Em could feel Zach’s anger like a white heat behind her eyes. Then, in an instant, it was gone. Instead, a pale blue light danced in Em’s head. It curled like a silk ribbon around her thoughts.

  I know you’re keeping something from me.

  Em had to distract him. Without thinking too hard about what she was going to do, she stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed Zach on the lips.

  He backed away, his face flushed and full of confusion. ‘Why did you do that?’

  Em shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. ‘I thought you might like it. I thought—’

  ‘Well… well… I didn’t!’

  He marched on ahead, leaving Em with a pile of acorns at her feet. She picked one up and fired it at Zach, missing his head by centimetres.

  Boys are stupid and annoying! I hate them!

  Zach glared back at her before disappearing round a curve in the lane.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Auchinmurn Isle

  The Middle Ages

  ‘I feel bad about leaving Carik in the cave,’ said Matt, sitting behind Solon on the broad, gleaming back of the white peryton as it circled silently above the Abbey in the darkness.

  ‘You saw how her wound pains her and slows her down,’ said Solon. The peryton banked towards the monastery, its white wings as silent as clouds. ‘She needs to rest. If we are to find The Book of Beasts before your father does, we need to be quick. It’s better for her to sleep.’

  ‘I still think we should rescue Jeannie and Brother Renard first,’ said Matt stubbornly.

  ‘We need The Book of Beasts to bargain with,’ Solon pointed out. ‘We will look first in the Abbot’s tower, where I last saw the manuscript.’

  Thanks to Carik’s hunting skills they had feasted on a fat rabbit earlier, and Matt always felt more amenable on a full stomach. ‘Fine,’ he grumbled. ‘I just hope you’re right.’

  As the peryton glided over the tops of the trees, Matt saw the monastery’s portcullis was secured. One of its animated hellhound guardians was prostrate near the gatehouse. Every few seconds, the hellhound’s fiery breath flamed into the darkness.

  Suddenly the massive hound leaped to its feet and into the centre of the courtyard. It stopped and raised its burning snout into the air as if trailing the scent of sheep or cattle.

  ‘Let’s try to avoid that thing,’ said Matt, shivering.

  Before Solon could nudge the peryton towards a hidden patch behind a buttress for the Great Hall, the beast gently glided to the exact spot and alighted, folding its wings away. Matt and Solon slipped silently from its back. Pressing his hand to the peryton’s neck in thanks, Matt felt warmth and comfort, but something else: a feeling of disquiet. Not quite danger, but dread.

  The darkness was oppressive and the noises from the forest and the sea already had Matt’s nerves on edge. He thought he’d grown to tolerate the stink of the Middle Ages, but he was wrong. He pulled the front of his hoodie up over his mouth and tried not to gag.

  The entire area was thick with mud, manure and human waste from the outhouses that had taken the brunt of the wave when it collapsed. The water had washed anything not tacked down through the shattered part of the outer wall and into the central courtyard. Hundreds of splintered pieces of wood from barrels, crockery, scythes and other field tools, stools and benches littered the courtyard. A bloated goat’s carcass floated against Matt’s foot. Solon didn’t seem to notice any of it.

  ‘We need to hurry,’ said Matt, seeing how a stone hellhound carved into the top of the wall across the courtyard had started to twitch. Was it watching for them? ‘My dad will sense I’m here.’

  Tucked close to the wall, the boys ran towards the Abbot’s tower.

  The monastery had been built as a fortress as much as a place of peace and learning. A high wall surrounded the main buildings with a walkway running all the way round its perimeter. Two towers flanked its corners, facing the sea and the smaller island where the newest tower stood finished, its scaffolding empty of the frenzied activity they had witnessed earlier. Like all the main buildings, the chapel built at the centre of the east wall and opposite the Great Hall was shuttered and closed up.

  At the corner of the west and south wall, Solon stopped without any notice. Matt ran into his back, opening the cut above his eye on Solon’s shoulder. He cursed. ‘Why did you stop?’

  Solon pointed to a long dark shape rising and falling along the wall ahead of them. Mopping the fresh blood from his forehead, Matt slipped the penlight from his pocket, cupping his hand around the beam. He lifted the light towards the dark bulk blocking their progress.

  Lined up in a row, like the dead after a battle, were the monks of the monastery, their cloaks covering their faces. Taking the penlight from Matt, Solon ran along the line checking under the hoods of his sleeping comrades for Brother Renard. There was no sign of the old monk.

  Solon lifted a dagger and sheath from a sleeping monk’s belt and handed it to Matt to use. They were almost at the opposite corner and close to the Abbot’s tower when Solon lifted his hand.

  Matt stopped. ‘What now?’

  ‘Listen!’

  Matt heard a weighty wooden whirring, like the cogs in a big mechanical clock. ‘What is that?’

  ‘It’s coming from the catacombs,’ whispered Solon.

  Matt spotted an iron grate set at the bottom of the wall. Leaning closer, the noise sounded louder and more regular, and Matt distinguished a whirring noise accompanying the mechanical sounds. The whirring reminded Matt of the gears releasing in a wind-up toy. Then he heard voices. Angry ones. Getting closer.

  He made a decision.

  ‘You go to the Abbot’s tower,’ he whispered, nudging Solon forward. ‘I’m going to find Jeannie and Brother Renard.’

  Solon looked shocked. ‘But we agreed we’d stay together!’

  The foreboding Matt had felt emanating from the peryton was pressing heavily on his own chest now. It had something to do with the strange noises coming from the catacombs.

  ‘You agreed,’ he said. ‘I just didn’t want to argue with you.’

  Solon grabbed Matt’s arm as he bent to lift the grate down to the tombs. ‘Don’t be foolish. It is a treacherous labyrinth down there. Smugglers’ tunnels stretch for miles under the bay, cutting into the maze beneath the monastery. You will never find your way alone.’

  The hellhound in relief in the wall above the boys stretched its neck and coughed fire into the night. Matt pulled Solon further into the shadows.

  Solon was right, he knew. As much as he wanted to find Jeannie, it wouldn’t help anyone if he ended up lost below ground. The hellhounds were getting agitated. Soon his dad would know they were wandering in the courtyard.

  ‘What do you need me to do?’ he asked reluctantly.

  ‘We need to find the book first. I know what to look for, and where. While I search, you can find out if my master is locked in his room.’ Solon pointed to a shuttered window at the far end of the monastery. ‘That is his cell. Tell him I will return for him later.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Matt.

  Sorry, Mum, he thought. He still didn’t know for sure if his mum or Em were alive. He choked back his sadness. Tearing a piece of lining from his jacket, he began to draw on the tattered fabric. There was a blinding flash of white light as the animation sprang into life.

  ‘Call me on this if you need me,’ Matt said, blinking to cle
ar the dancing particles of light from his eyes and handing one of two animated walkie-talkies to Solon. ‘Just hold down this button here. When you finish speaking, say “over” so I know that I can reply.’

  ‘Truly you have marvellous things in your time,’ Solon said, studying his walkie-talkie in fascination before clipping it on to his belt beside his bronze dagger.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Auchinmurn Isle

  Present Day

  Em trailed a few steps behind Zach in awkward silence. With more nervous energy than she could contain, she jumped from shadow to shadow, counting them in her head, afraid she’d think or say something that would upset Zach more. She couldn’t understand why he was angry with her.

  Didn’t boys like to kiss?

  From now on, Em decided, she’d stick to imaginary snogging with boys in her books.

  The closer they got to the gate, the more visible the protective shield on the wall became. It ran along the entire perimeter of the compound wall, emerging in front of Zach and Em when they took the last turn in the driveway.

  Em stopped a few metres from the gate in wonder. ‘Wow!’

  Thick vines of ivy draped over the wall like parade bunting, the tips of each leaf shimmering in a rainbow of greens. At regular intervals along the wall, the ivy hung so low it touched the ground. Thick green tendrils created a ropey chain threading through the decorative curls and knots of the massive iron gates.

  ‘Anyone trying to get in here will need a sword to hack through those vines,’ signed Em, swooning dramatically in front of Zach. ‘Like in Sleeping Beauty?’

  ‘I got it,’ Zach signed without looking at her.

  Em walked over to the wall. ‘I’ve never seen so many shades of green before.’

  Reaching up, she touched a cluster of leaves the colour of a Granny Smith apple. Expecting the leaves to be nothing more than an animation of light and colour, Em was shocked when the needlepoint of a leaf pricked her finger.