by Caleb Krisp
“Which is why we are going,” said Miss Always, her smile returning. “I have great plans for you, Ivy. There is a fine school in my mother’s village. You will get a proper education, and I will finish my book. We will be awfully content.”
I didn’t cry. I wasn’t the type. But I wanted to. For Miss Always had just seen into my soul. Naturally I couldn’t say it aloud, so I simply hugged my friend and said, “Thank you, dear.”
We had a plan. One hour. Then we would leave Butterfield Park forever.
My bag was packed in no time. As I waited for Miss Always, I wandered aimlessly around the little bedroom. Which was how I arrived at the window. I looked out. Saw Rebecca and Miss Frost coming out of the schoolhouse. Rebecca was wearing a pretty lavender gown (no doubt dressed for the ball), but Miss Frost was typically grim in her black frock. They walked along the garden path. Talking eagerly the whole time. How dearly I would have loved to eavesdrop on that conversation!
I was so busy spying that I didn’t hear it. Not right away. The piano. Each wretched note ringing through the attic, all at once close by and far away. The tune was unmistakable. “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” I knew she would be there before I turned around.
And I knew why she had come.
The Duchess of Trinity’s enormous bed blocked the door. Her fabulous blubber spilling out on all sides, swelling beneath her blood-soaked nightdress. Her skin still glowed like winter—a frosted blue—and the dark smoke still puffed from her nostrils.
“Going somewhere?” she sang at me.
I didn’t bother to explain. Probably because I knew that she knew. “You’re here about the necklace,” I said. “Well, fear not, I’m giving the stone to Matilda before I leave.”
“At the birthday ball,” she purred. “That was our agreement, child.”
“What does it matter?” I snapped. “You wanted Matilda to have the stone on her birthday, and I will make sure she gets it. Whether it’s now or tonight, what difference does it make?”
She shook her head. “The ball, child. You will give it to her at the ball.”
“Why? Why must it be at the ball?”
“Because that is what I wish.” Her smile was ravenous.
“I know it’s not a nice thing to say, but you’re a beastly old bat.” I took two tallow candles from the bedside table and packed them in my carpetbag. “And don’t think of following me where I am going. I’m starting a new life. A wonderful life. And you’re not invited.”
“You really think it is that simple?” said the Duchess with a ghoulish cackle. “You think you can simply go? That you can betray me like this and not suffer? Child, there is no way out. Besides, if you leave now, you’ll miss the best part.”
“I am going,” I declared, pointing in triumph at my bag, “and you can’t stop me!”
“You looked into the stone, and what did you see?” she sang. “Little Ivy carried from a grim house. Little Ivy dragged through the woods. But you have not seen how the story ends.” She smiled wickedly. “I know you want to.”
“You are wrong,” I lied.
My plan was rather simple. I would turn my back on her and look out the window until she vanished. And I would have done it too. If not for the snow. The snow falling in the attic like a winter frost. It didn’t start with a few flakes drifting gently down from the rafters. No, it began all at once. A great deluge of snow, billowing and churning around the tiny room, covering everything in a blanket of frost and sleet.
I could no longer see the Duchess. I looked down and saw footprints crunching into the frost—they formed a terrifying and unmistakable path from the ghost’s bed to me. Snow blanketed the ground, covering my shoes and ankles.
The Duchess was nowhere.
Until she was.
She came up out of the frost like a phoenix rising from the ice. Her skin crisp and slippery and frozen. I tried to move, but my feet were fixed in the snow.
“You will never be free of me,” she whispered. Her plump finger uncurled, creaking and snapping like an icicle, and stroked my cheek. “I will haunt you to the grave, child. To the grave and beyond. Do you really want such a fate? Stay for the ball and deliver the stone just as you promised. Do as I have asked, and I will leave you in peace. You have my word.” The Duchess pressed close to me, her frosted lips brushing my ear. “And one more thing, child. Miss Always has plans for you. Be on your guard.”
She collapsed like an avalanche. Fell suddenly into a large pile of snow and icicles at my feet. Just like that.
“Ivy?”
Miss Always was standing at the door, bag in hand. She had her traveling bonnet on. Her smile was full of warmth and sisterly love. Did that beastly ghost really think I would doubt my bosom friend? Of course Miss Always had plans for me. To begin a new life together. There was nothing sinister about it.
“Ivy, you look so pale!” said Miss Always. She put down her bag and stepped into the bedroom. Surprisingly, she did not trip over the six inches of snow. Because it was gone.
“I had a slight headache,” I managed to say, “but happily it has passed.”
“I have been thinking, Ivy,” said Miss Always. “It would be better for me to be there when you give Matilda the Clock Diamond. For legal reasons, you understand. What do you think?”
“About what, dear?”
“About the diamond,” she said. “I suggest we go and get it immediately. Your wonderfully clever hiding place need no longer be a secret. Let’s fetch it right now and then be on our way.”
“I have changed my mind, dear.” I tried to look bright. “The Duchess wished me to give the stone to Matilda in front of her guests, so it’s only proper that I should. I’m a girl of my word and whatnot.”
“Oh. I see.” Miss Always walked to the window and looked out at the creeping dusk. “Tonight is the half-moon,” she said. “Did you know that, Ivy?”
I recalled Miss Frost telling me the very same thing in the schoolhouse. “Yes, dear.”
“Such a moon has a special kind of beauty, don’t you agree?” Miss Always turned to face me, and her eyes sparkled like gemstones. “Shall we go and take a closer look, Ivy? I believe the stairs out in the hall lead up to the roof. You could fetch the necklace—to save time later on—and we could sneak up and stargaze before the ball. We would be like two astronomers! Wouldn’t that be glorious?”
“Gazing at the moon? Sounds frightful.” I opened the wardrobe and pulled out my favorite blue dress. “Besides, now that we are staying, I have to get dressed for the party.”
Miss Always nodded, her hands knotted tightly together. “As you wish, Ivy.”
The ball was stupendously glorious. The great hall glowed like a freshly cut orange under the dazzling chandelier. A grand collection of ladies in shimmering gowns milled about, wearing bucketloads of rubies, sapphires, diamonds, pearls, and tiaras. There were furs and cloaks as far as the eye could see. Men in top hats and tails. Girls in silk dresses and gloves, with flowers or precious stones threaded in their hair. Servants in their best livery, carrying silver trays laden with mouthwatering food and sparkling wines. A string quartet played softly at the back.
Usually at such a fine ball, I would be carrying food from the kitchen. Or collecting coats. But now I was one of them. A genuine guest at a genuine ball.
The cake looked like a five-story monolith beneath the radiant chandelier. It was at the center of the great hall. The star attraction. Well, apart from the birthday girl.
Matilda stood by the fireplace, holding court. A gaggle of girls seemed to hang on her every word. Even I had to admit she looked very fetching in her dress of white embroidered silk with a yellow velvet trim, her dark hair piled up atop her head like a crown. I spotted Rebecca. She was standing by the grand staircase, looking about nervously.
Miss Always was nowhere to be seen. I hadn’t laid eyes on her since we had agreed to delay our departure. No doubt she was busy preparing my surprise party. I did spot Miss Frost, hurrying up t
he main stairs. Instinctively I looked for Rebecca. She was gone.
“Do not imagine you are fooling any of my granddaughter’s guests, Miss Pocket. A maid cannot pass for a princess, despite what you read in novels.”
Lady Elizabeth was leaning on her cane, resplendent in a glittering black gown. Her face was still slightly bloated, which was a blessing. She eyed me with suspicion. “Why are you smiling at me? Stop it this instant!”
For some reason I thought of Matilda’s story about her grandmother’s first husband. And I couldn’t resist. “I was just trying to picture you as a young woman,” I said brightly. “I’m sure you were pretty, in an uninteresting kind of way. Did you have a great love? Something tells me you did. But his heart belonged to another. Didn’t end well, I shouldn’t think. Nothing says heartbreak like a bolt of lightning. Or so they say.”
It was cruel. But then, so was she.
Lady Elizabeth looked at me as a vulture does its prey. “Who told you?” she hissed.
I smiled innocently. “Told me what, dear?”
“The Clock Diamond has given you a lot of power, hasn’t it, Miss Pocket?” The old crow’s withered face bristled with rage. “You have enjoyed living above your station, keeping my granddaughter waiting these past five days. But your time is at an end. The cake is soon to be cut, and Matilda will be giving her speech. Have the diamond ready to present to her.”
I patted her head (it seemed the right moment). “Excellent idea.”
I climbed the stairs, leaving the hum of voices and the sweet melody of the string quartet behind. I passed across the first-floor landing and turned down the hallway, my head full with thoughts of parting with the stone. The time had come. There would be no more visions. I would never learn the end of my story. And that filled me with crushing sorrow.
By the time I climbed the rickety back stairs up to the attic, I felt as if I might burst into tears. Which was shameful! I hurried down the narrow corridor and opened the door to my right. Soft moonlight pressed through the narrow gaps in the sloping roof. I didn’t bother lighting a candle. No need. I would only be there a moment. I stopped before the trunk. Moved the boar spear and crossbows from the top. Opened it. And dove down to the cluster of worthless jewels below. The cleverness of my hiding place still thrilled me. I pulled apart the tangled mess of imitation necklaces, searching for the Clock Diamond. Even in the half-light, it didn’t take long for the truth to dawn. Great strings of costume necklaces were webbed between my fingers. I checked. Checked again.
The horror hit me like a punch.
The diamond was gone.
I struck a match. Lit the candle. Churned to the very bottom of the trunk, hoping against hope that the diamond had somehow come loose and slipped beneath a hat or a bonnet. It hadn’t. My heart thumped madly.
I closed the trunk. Sat on the lid. Took a deep breath. The Duchess would kill me!
Who had stolen it? Miss Frost? Yes, that devious governess was just the type to steal the Clock Diamond! Was she not unnaturally preoccupied by it? Had she not demanded I hand it over just hours ago? Miss Frost was the thief. She must hang for the crime!
I would hunt her down. Expose her as a villain! And I would have, too. If not for the creak of the floorboards. From a darkened corner of the room. Ever so faint, but undeniable. I stopped dead. Listened. Snap. This time from the other end of the attic. The faint shuffle of feet.
“Hello?” I said boldly. “Miss Frost? Show yourself, you nefarious nitwit!” I picked up the boar spear. “I have a weapon, and I shall use it with deadly force!”
The candle trembled in my other hand. I set it down on the trunk and stepped into the center of the room. Footsteps. Rapid footsteps. They moved in unison—emerging from the shadows like ghouls. Four hooded locks. One from each corner. I thrust the boar spear out in front of me and turned in a clockwise direction. “Give yourselves up and hand back the stone!” I shouted. “Because let me be very clear, I am a fierce sort of girl and won’t hesitate to skewer the lot of you!”
The locks moved in unison. At great speed. Rushing to the center of the room. Swarming me in mere seconds. I felt icy talons grip my arms and snake around my ankles. I saw the Clock Diamond sparkle in the candlelight, twisted around one of their bony fingers. Then the spear flew out of my hand. Next I was spinning. Then my feet were swept from under me. I hit the ground with an almighty thump. Groaned. Managed to pull myself up. Looked about.
I was alone.
My attackers had fled with the stone.
I ran like the wind. Tore down the rickety back stairs. Barreled along the hallway towards the landing. I saw a flash of dark cloak at the far end of the corridor. My chest burned, but I didn’t stop. I charged on like a bull. Willing my feet to move faster. To catch those hideous little villains! Then another glimpse. A lock rushed into the mouth of the hallway. He turned sharply and vanished through a door. The door to Rebecca’s bedroom.
Fear flared inside me.
“Rebecca!” I shouted.
I gave chase, skidding to a stop before her bedroom. The door was open. I raced in at full speed, knocking a dozen clocks to the floor. Frantically, I looked around. No sign of the thieving blackguards. I checked under the bed. Nothing. The closet. Empty. Without warning, the door slammed shut. I ran over and tried the handle. It was locked.
“Blast!” I thundered, pounding on the door.
“Ivy?”
I gave a startled cry. Spun around. Miss Always was standing in the corner. Her dark brown dress seemed to meld with the shadows. Had she been there all along? She walked towards me, carefully navigating the clocks.
“Miss Always,” I said, catching my breath, “you startled me.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You burst into the room in such a hurry, I suppose I was struck dumb. Whatever’s the matter?”
“The diamond,” I said, “it’s been taken. I was chasing the locks who stole it!”
Miss Always stopped in front of a small table. A teapot lay upon it. Two cups. A single spoon. A bowl of sugar. “You are not yourself, Ivy,” she said slowly. “The fall. The shock of your friend Mr. Banks. Miss Frost’s silly stories. It has taken a terrible toll on your nerves.”
With great care, my friend poured a cup of tea. A cloud of steam curled up into the air. She put the cup on a saucer and held it out to me. She said, “Drink this. It will make you feel better.”
“Miss Always, now is not the time for a cup of tea,” I declared. “If I am making this up, who locked the door? Was that my nerves?” Then a new thought troubled me. “What are you doing in Rebecca’s bedroom, anyway?”
“I thought I heard a noise,” said Miss Always.
“Then you must believe me!” I said. “What you heard was those nefarious locks.”
Miss Always smiled thinly. “But you can see there is no one here but you and I.”
“Look, dear, I haven’t the time to convince you that I am telling the truth,” I said, trying again to open the door. “They are getting away. We are running out of time!”
The heavy tick tick tick of Rebecca’s clocks was like a hammer pounding in my head. In heart-stopping moments of crisis, my most brilliant ideas are born—for I have all the natural instincts of a trapped miner.
Without hesitation, I leaped over the clocks. Jumped onto the bed. Stepped across to the window ledge. Pulled up the window. It would take great skill, but I was confident I could crawl along the ledge and get to the window next door, which was Lady Amelia’s bedroom. The risks were huge. But nothing else mattered. I must get that stone back! It was as if my very life depended upon it.
“I will return for you, dear!” I yelled.
I was halfway out of the window when I felt a hand grip my arm, trying to yank me back inside. Those villainous locks had returned. I twisted my head, trying to pull my arm free. But I did not see a villainous lock. Instead, there was Miss Always with the strength of Hercules, yanking me through the window.
“Ivy, don�
��t do it,” she cried. “You will fall to your death!”
“Stuff and nonsense!” I barked, pulling away. Miss Always’s grip slipped—slightly. I put one foot on the ledge and steadied myself. “I know what I’m doing, dear! Let me go!”
I gave a final heroic yank. Pulled my hand free. Miss Always stumbled back. I steadied my footing. Then I heard her cry out like some sort of monstrous crow. I stopped. Looked through the window. Miss Always was glaring at me. Her face ghostly white. Her eyes fierce. The room seemed to tremble. The window shook. Clocks rattled and fell. From behind her, almost from the folds of her dress—they came. A dozen hooded locks. They flew out like a pack of rabid wolves. Two at a time. From either side of her. Cloaks billowing. Arms outstretched.
I was stunned. Horrified. The hideous little scoundrels moved as one. Their bony fingers grasped my arms. Then my ankles. Pulled me as if I were a rag doll. I flew back through the open window and tumbled to the floor of the bedroom.
Miss Always cried out in horror. “It can’t be real!”
One of them hovered over me. I looked up. Glimpsed its face. Bronzed skin. Eyes like two dark moons. Pale lips. And something else. This creature’s chest was heaving, but I heard no breaths. Instead, there was an unmistakable ticking sound! I kicked the nasty beast as hard as I could. He flew back and crashed to the ground. Miss Always shrieked and fell on the bed. “Ivy, be careful!” she yelled.
The remaining locks—five or so—were edging steadily towards me. Closing in like a noose. What I needed was a weapon. I looked about. There was nothing. Nothing but clocks.
That was it!
I spun around and picked up two large clocks. One gold. One silver. I took aim and threw the first. It struck the lock square in the face. Then the second, which landed perfectly in another’s chest. The little monsters stumbled. Hissed. Then dropped to the floor. The remaining villains rushed at me. But I was fast. I kicked one in the stomach, then grabbed two more clocks. Repeated my assault—thumped a pair of them on their heads. They fell in a heap. Only one remained. He lunged at me, his hood flying back. It was a beastly sight. No hair. Teeth like glass. Eyes black as ink. Skin flaring like a lantern. Talons reaching for my throat. I picked up a marble clock in both hands and brought it down upon the villain’s skull.