Goodly and Grave in a Bad Case of Kidnap

by Justine Windsor

  Inside the pouch was a wooden ring with a small silver charm in the shape of a swan dangling from it. It took Lucy a few seconds to remember where she’d seen it before. And to remember again what Lord Grave had said to Havoc.

  “You took my son!”

  At that moment, Bertie burst back into the room. “What are you doing with that!” he shouted, snatching the ring out of Lucy’s hand.

  “Ssh, Bertie. Please. I can explain.” Lucy sprang over to the bedroom door, which was half-open, and pushed it shut. “She mustn’t hear.”

  “Who mustn’t?”

  “Amethyst.”

  Bertie scowled as he put the teething ring back in its pouch and draped the cord back round his neck. “Why? To think I was so excited when you arrived. I thought we’d be friends.”

  “We can be! You have to let me explain!”

  “Friends don’t snoop around each other’s private stuff!” Bertie’s voice was rising again.

  “Please, Bertie. Stop shouting. I have to tell you something really, really important!”

  “Ten seconds. That’s it. Then I’m going to Mother. I’ll tell her that you’re nothing more than a nasty little thief. She can let Grave have you.” Bertie glared at her with such disgust that Lucy began to feel quite sick.

  “Your parents, Bertie. It’s true that they were rich. But they didn’t love money more than you.”

  Bertie’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? How could you know that?”

  Lucy pointed at Bertie’s neck. “That teething ring. Where did you get it?”

  Bertie touched the velvet pouch with his fingertips. “Is that what it is? I found it in Mother’s room.” His face went very red.

  Lucy went limp with relief. If Bertie had stolen the teething ring himself, he wasn’t likely to go shouting to Amethyst about it. “Why did you take it, Bertie?” she asked gently.

  “I found it a few months ago. She sent me to fetch something from her room. One of her cupboards was open and I found it. I can’t explain why, but I … I had to take it. Then I was afraid that she’d realise what I’d done and be angry with me. So I thought if I wore it all the time, under my shirt, she’d never find out I had it. That doesn’t make sense, I know. But the other thing is, it made me feel … good wearing it. Except …”

  “Go on.”

  “If I wear it at night, I have these dreams. There’s a woman. She’s lovely. Kind. But the dreams make me feel so sad when I wake up. So a lot of the time I leave it off when I sleep.”

  “Bertie,” said Lucy. “The woman’s hair. Is it black but with a white streak, right at the front?”

  Bertie went pale, fumbled his way to his rumpled bed and sat down. “How could you possibly know what I see in my dreams?” he whispered.

  “I’ve seen her portrait in Lord Grave’s house. She was his wife.”

  “Was? Does that mean …”

  Lucy didn’t want to say it, but she had to. “She’s dead, yes. I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry? Why?”

  “Bertie, the thing is – you’re in the portrait too. I’m certain it’s you as a baby. You’re holding that same teething ring. The woman in your dream is Lady Grave, your mother. And Lord Grave is your father.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  UNRAVELLING THE YARNS

  “That’s not true! Why would Amethyst lie to me?” Bertie wiped his face on his bed sheets.

  “I really think it is true, Bertie – how would Amethyst have the teething ring if she hadn’t taken you? And why would it make you think of Lady Grave if she wasn’t your mother?

  Bertie sat thinking for a long time, then looked up. “Well, if it is true I think I understand why Mother didn’t want to tell me that I’m Lord Grave’s son. The son of someone evil. That would be just like her to be so protective. Maybe Grave killed my mother and Amethyst took me – in case he killed me too?”

  “No. I don’t think so. Amethyst’s been lying. I heard her say something about planting memories. I think she can make people remember things that never happened.” She explained about Violet and Caruthers, and about Eddie Robinson’s parents giving an interview to the Penny. “Parents who didn’t care about their children wouldn’t do any of that.”

  “That’s true,” Bertie said thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve read that people’s minds can be manipulated. People have done experiments on it. But Mother wouldn’t do that, I’m sure of it. Let’s go and see her. Ask her. I’m sure she can explain everything.”

  “No, it’s too dangerous!” Lucy found that her voice had suddenly turned wobbly. “I haven’t told you why I came to see you yet. It’s Kathleen. Something terrible has happened to her.”

  Lucy hated telling Bertie what she’d seen and heard. His face went from pale to green when she told him how Kathleen’s tears were bottled and how Kathleen herself had vanished.

  “I’ve seen those bottles in Amethyst’s study. I asked her what they were. She said she was making a cordial. I tried to open one once, but I couldn’t get the cork out. Imagine if I’d drunk it.” Bertie shuddered.

  “So you believe me?” Lucy almost wilted with relief.

  Bertie nodded slowly. “It’s all terribly unscientific, of course, but there is evidence to support what you’ve said. And why would you make all this up? There’s no logical reason for you to lie as far as I can see.” Bertie fell silent for a while.

  Lucy broke that silence. “We have to leave here, take Violet. Get back to the outside world. You know how to do that?”

  Bertie looked at Lucy; a look that told her he was gathering his courage for what lay ahead. “No, no, I don’t.”

  “But you said Amethyst takes you there sometimes? You must have seen what she does to leave here?”

  “I’m never awake for the journey. She puts me to sleep here and I wake up there. What about Havoc Reek?”

  “Ask Havoc? Are you mad?”

  “I don’t mean that. He brought you here, didn’t he? How did he do that?”

  “He used the Wish Book. If only we knew where it is!”

  “The what? Oh, is that the so-called magical book you told us about?”

  “It’s not so-called. It is!” Lucy said, hanging on to her temper by a thread.

  “I’ve seen it! It’s in her study.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that? Come on!”

  They ran out of Bertie’s room and along the passageway to Amethyst’s study. Once inside, they closed the door as quietly as possible and lit the candelabra.

  A tall wooden cabinet stood against one wall of the study. There were drawers at the bottom, and the top half was made up of three shelves of books, which lay behind glass doors. Bertie took one of the books out of the cabinet and opened it. The pages inside had a hole cut in them and in that hole was a small key.

  “You must have done a lot of poking around in Amethyst’s things to find that out,” Lucy whispered.

  “Don’t say it like that,” Bertie whispered back, going red again. “There were times when there were just the two of us and then she’d go off for hours. There was nothing else to do except explore. But it’s come in handy, hasn’t it?”

  Lucy had to admit it had.

  Bertie took the key and opened one of the drawers. There was the bag Lucy had borrowed off Becky with the Wish Book inside it. Lucy lifted it out and explained to Bertie as quickly as she could how it worked.

  “So you just spell out what you want to happen?” Bertie said. “But where are you going to wish us to?”

  “Grave Hall. But as soon as I begin spelling out the wish, Amethyst will know what we’re up to, I’m certain. There’ll be trouble if she manages to follow us. We’ll need help. Magical help.”

  “I think we should do the wish outside then. If Mothe–– I mean, Amethyst does realise what’s happening, it’ll take her that bit longer to get to us. She hates going out in the snow anyway. Ruins her shoes, she says.”

  Bertie’s face was still very pale. How horrible all t
his must be for him. Amethyst had been a mother to him for five years. Now he’d discovered it was all a lie, that she’d stolen him from his loving father, and his real mother was dead.

  “I’m sorry, Bertie. About everything.”

  “Don’t you be sorry. Amethyst’s the one to blame. And I’ll pay her back for it one day,” Bertie said, looking suddenly much older than twelve.

  “We need to go. Let’s get Violet. But there’s one more thing we need to do. We can’t leave these behind.” She pointed up at the blue bottles dangling from the ceiling of Amethyst’s study.

  “Why do we need to take them?”

  “Don’t you see? One bottle of tears equals one child. Amethyst makes them cry themselves to death. And then she plans to take the power the tears hold for herself.”

  “And do what with it?”

  “Get her revenge?”

  “Does she drink them?” Bertie screwed up his face in disgust.

  “I don’t know. I don’t really want to think about it.”

  “And Kathleen? Where is she? Do you think she’s dead?”

  “Her tears might be in one of these bottles, that’s all I know.”

  “Can we find a way to get her back?”

  “I don’t know that either. But I am sure as I can be that if we take the bottles, we’re taking away Amethyst’s chance to get her full powers back and escape here for good. Come on, help me get them all down.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THE SNOWMAN’S SMILE

  “Why are we going out now? It’s not even properly daytime yet. Where’s Kathleen?” Violet said, blinking sleepily as Lucy helped her into furs and snow boots.

  “It’s a surprise. A special game. But you must keep very quiet. We’ll see Kathleen soon.”

  Lucy turned away so that Violet wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. There’d be time to grieve for Kathleen later. Right now, she needed to focus on getting everyone safely away. She touched the bag of bottles she and Bertie had taken from Amethyst’s study.

  “I’ll get help for you as soon as I can, Kathleen. Maybe Lord Grave can bring you back,” she whispered.

  Bertie joined them, now bundled up in warm clothes.

  “How are we going to get out?” he whispered to Lucy so that Violet wouldn’t hear. “Amethyst locks the Tower doors at night.”

  “I’ve thought of that. We can ski out of the dayroom window, the same as the other day.”

  “Brilliant idea!”

  They quickly gathered their skiing equipment together and went down to the dayroom. Bertie and Lucy hurriedly put their gear on and then helped Violet with hers. Bertie left first, skiing smoothly out of the dayroom window and down the snowdrift.

  “You next,” Lucy said to Violet.

  “But what about the wolves?”

  “Look.” Lucy pointed at the sky. “It’s nearly dawn. All the wolves will have gone now.” She hoped this was true.

  “All right then.”

  Lucy watched anxiously as Violet began the descent, but the little scullery maid kept her balance, although she crashed into Bertie at the bottom of the snowdrift, almost knocking him over. Then it was Lucy’s turn. She was a little unsteady on her skis, and she was worried about falling and damaging the bottles and the Wish Book she was carrying in her bag. But she made it safely down to the others, her skis spraying snow as she came to a clumsy stop.

  “Can we do it again?” asked Violet, her eyes shining and her cheeks glowing.

  “Not right now,” said Lucy. “Come on. I’ll show you the surprise. I’ll race you!” She wanted to get them further away from the Tower before using the Wish Book.

  If she hadn’t been escaping two twisted magicians who wanted to make her cry to death while bottling her tears, Lucy might have enjoyed skiing over the snow under a sky that was lightening into strips of pink and purple, the freezing air nipping her cheeks. But this was no game. They had to get as far away as fast as they could. Lucy risked a glance back at the Tower and her blood froze. There was no time to stop and check, but she thought she’d seen a face peering out of the dayroom window.

  “Look, Lucy,” Violet called after they’d gone a little way. “There’s our snowman from yesterday! Can we build some more?”

  “Not right now,” Lucy said. “We need to go further.”

  “Wait! Stop!” Bertie shouted. He was just behind Lucy and Violet. They stopped dead and Bertie cannoned into them, nearly knocking them over.

  “What’s wrong?” Lucy asked.

  “The snowman. There’s something not right about it.”

  Lucy peered at the snowman. It looked just as it had yesterday, with its coal for eyes and nose.

  “Look at its mouth,” Bertie whispered.

  A groove etched under the snowman’s black nose gave its face an eerie smiling mouth.

  “But we didn’t give it a mouth,” Lucy said.

  “Exactly.”

  Lucy scrunched up her eyes. There was something glinting inside the snowman’s smile. Something long and sharp.

  “I want to play with it again!” Violet said, and before either Lucy or Bertie could stop her, she’d skied towards the snowman.

  “Violet, come back!” Bertie shouted.

  Suddenly the snowman roared and bared its icicle teeth. Teeth that none of the children had made when they’d built it. It bounced forward, then clamped its mouth round Violet’s arm. Violet screamed, wide-eyed with shock and fear.

  Lucy yelled and propelled herself towards the snowman. She clawed at one of its coal-lump eyes, gouging it from its frozen socket. The snowman roared again. Its hold on Violet loosened and Bertie grabbed the little girl from its open mouth, dragging her out of danger. Then the snowman turned its attention to Lucy, unsheathing icicle claws every bit as ferocious as its teeth. It swiped at her face, but she ducked out of the way just in time, the ice whooshing past her ear.

  “Poles! Use your poles!” Bertie shouted.

  “Great idea!” Lucy yelled back. She grabbed one of her skiing poles and brandished it like a sword, stabbing the pointy end right in the middle of the snowman’s icy chest. It roared even more ferociously.

  Lucy pulled out her pole before stabbing it in again. This time the wound struck deeper. Cracks began opening up all over the snowman’s body. It looked down at itself in puzzlement. Seconds later, it exploded into miniscule shards of ice that sprayed into the air and rained down on the three children.

  They were saved from the snowman, but other dangers could soon arise. There was no time to lose. Lucy hurriedly took the Wish Book from its leather bag. She thought back to how Havoc had made the opening from Grave Hall to the Tower. She didn’t know what he had spelled out, but did remember that he had used her tears. Perhaps this particular type of wish only worked with the tears of a child?

  She looked over at Violet, who was leaning against Bertie and quietly sobbing. Lucy didn’t like to see her hurt and upset, but it could be to their advantage. Lucy eased her skis closer. Then she removed her gloves and touched Violet’s face with her bare fingers, wiping the little girl’s tears away. “It’ll all be over soon, I promise,” she said.

  Working quickly, afraid that Violet’s tears would freeze on her skin, she began spelling out the words Take us back to Grave Hall. As her fingers moved across the holes, sparks began to form in mid-air.

  “It’s working,” whispered Bertie.

  The sparks fizzled and died.

  Lucy glared at Bertie.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  Lucy focused and started from the beginning again. As she touched the last letter the sparks began forming once more. This time the sparks joined together to form a bright slash. The slash widened into a hole.

  “Come on, come on, hurry up,” Lucy muttered.

  As though it had heard her, the hole expanded, and Lucy stared into it, entranced. On the other side she could see the Room of Curiosities, as clear and real as though she was standing inside it.

  Be
hind Lucy, Violet screamed again.

  Lucy turned. To her horror, she saw Amethyst standing there holding Violet by the arm and dangling her in mid-air. Havoc Reek was standing behind Bertie, one hand over Bertie’s mouth, one arm round his neck.

  “Give me the Wish Book and the bottles,” Amethyst said, stepping towards Lucy. She stretched out her free hand and clicked her fingers. “Now.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  THE END FOR LUCY

  Lucy stepped away, put the Wish Book and the bag of bottles behind her back.

  “No. We’re going back to Grave Hall. We know you’ve been lying. We know what you do to the children you drag here.”

  “Oh, dearie me,” cawed Nevermore.

  “Keep that bird quiet or I’ll wring its neck,” Amethyst snapped. “Lucy. You sweet, idiotic child. I’ll explain everything. It’s not what it seems. Give me the Wish Book and my bottles. Then we can talk.”

  “No.”

  Amethyst sighed. “If you don’t, I suppose I’ll just have to hurt this one more.” She squeezed Violet’s arm even tighter and shook her hard, making the little girl scream again.

  “Give her the book and the bottles!” Nevermore shrieked, launching herself at Lucy, aiming her claws and beak at Lucy’s eyes.

  “You want this? You can have it!” Lucy yelled. She swung the Wish Book at Nevermore, catching the tip of her wing. But Nevermore was undeterred. She gave a high-pitched caw before stabbing the back of Lucy’s hand with her beak.

  The searing pain made Lucy drop the book.

  Amethyst released Violet, dropping her into the snow. She stepped over the little girl’s huddled, sobbing form towards the Wish Book and Lucy. But just when Lucy thought it was the end for all of them, a familiar rough voice behind her yelled, “Get out of the flipping way!”

  Lucy dived away from the opening she’d made. The very next second something exploded through it and landed on the icy ground.

  Huge.

  Snarling.

  Armed with four sets of scimitar-sharp claws and one set of razor-sharp fangs.