by Garth Nix
Jaide’s foot slipped on a patch of bright green slime, her ankle turned and she almost fell over. Her gasp of alarm prompted an answering chirrup from many nearby mouths, and the dark mass she had seen suddenly boiled into motion.
Leathery wings batted at her head. Wild, ugly faces glared. She covered her face with her arms and tried not to scream.
Then they were gone, and she could hear Jack and Ari calling for her.
Feeling embarrassed and slightly foolish, she came back out of the drain and clambered up the slope.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I had to check.’
‘Bats!’ exclaimed Jack. ‘I bet they gave you a fright.’
‘We really must get moving,’ said Ari, tail lashing. ‘Really really.’
‘All right.’
‘Did you check their eyes?’ asked Jack as Jaide mounted up again.
She nodded. ‘They were clear.’
The twins made it to the platform with bare seconds to spare, chaining their bikes to the rack by the tiny station and running to where the bright red steam train sat, hissing and smoking on the tracks. Behind the locomotive and its coal tender, there was just one carriage. It was half full, mainly with families and groups of children, out enjoying a Saturday trip. Jack and Jaide took a seat on the eastern side, so they could wave at Ari as the train pulled out.
Jack was glad to sit down. He still felt shaky after the incident with the tunnel. What had Jaide been thinking going inside? Didn’t she know how awful it had been for him in the sewers? First The Evil had almost overwhelmed him with a mass of rats and ants. Then the rising tide had almost drowned him. He still had nightmares about it, and woke shaking, with the voice that had spoken to him down there once again echoing inside his head.
He shook himself all over, telling himself to snap out of it. He wasn’t in the tunnels now, and Jaide probably didn’t know what it had been like for him because he had never told her. Jaide had simply been doing what she thought right. The drain was next to the old sawmill, where they had found the mystery skin. It made sense that something horrible might be hiding in there, something that occasionally came out at night on its dark and deadly missions –
‘Tickets?’
Jack snapped out of his thoughts to see a short, round man in a nineteenth-century conductor’s uniform standing next to their seats. His chubby hand was held open towards them as though waiting for a low five.
‘Oh yes.’ Jack pulled his ticket out of his pocket and gave it to the conductor, who clipped it with a tiny metal punch and gave it back.
Jaide did the same, thinking how odd this was compared to the automated ticketing systems of the city. But Portland was a weird place even without taking into account Grandma X and The Evil and all. They seemed to like old stuff in Portland.
‘How long does the train take to Scarborough?’ she asked.
‘As long as it takes, lass, and not a second more.’
With that helpful reply, the conductor moved on to the next row of seats and left the twins to stare out of the window. The train moved much more slowly than the trains they were used to, with much huffing and puffing, so they were still only just passing through the southern outreaches of Portland. Soon, though, they had built up speed and were moving steadily along the coast. The sea to their left was a brilliant, white-flecked blue. Several fishing boats were visible, far out towards the horizon, while closer in, yachts tilted and turned in the changeable wind. It was all very picturesque, with no sign at all of the great battle being fought behind the scenes, between the Wardens and The Evil, in this troubled place.
A sign on the front wall of the carriage explained the history of the train. Originally called the Coast Flyer, then the Coast Classic Flyer after a refurbishment, it was best known locally as the Red Rocket – due to its colour rather than its speed, Jaide assumed. It had been running continuously for over sixty years, connecting small coastal towns like Portland and Scarborough that were ignored by modern rail. Originally the plan had been to connect to the main coastal line, hence the investment in a tunnel through Little Rock, but the collapse of the local whaling industry had seen those dreams come to nothing. Now the Red Rocket was really only a tourist train, and freight was left to road trains and trucks.
Underneath the information poster was a notice of changes to upcoming schedules as a result of damage caused by recent flooding. The Red Rocket would go no further north than Portland for a month while the Little Rock tunnel was repaired. Idly Jack wondered how many people that would really inconvenience or disappoint. It was much quicker to drive to Scarborough, and thus far the steam-train experience was decidedly underwhelming.
Finally the train chuff-chuffed round a bend and there was the mini-metropolis of Scarborough. After Portland, it seemed huge to the twins’ eyes, though they would have scorned it as a hick town when they’d lived in the city. Now they knew better. Scarborough boasted a large town hall, a clock tower, a high school, no less than three proper cinemas and a shopping mall.
The station was crowded with people, and the air was full of traffic noise and seagulls. As the train squeaked and clanked to a halt, the twins smelled hot chips and saw Tara waiting for them, waving, with her father at her side.
Jaide waved back, and even Jack managed to muster some enthusiasm. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, being away from Portland and all their concerns there. The antique pillbox was safely tucked away in his pocket, so The Evil couldn’t find them, even if the leftover bit Jaide called an excision could get out through the wards.
On the other hand, there was Tara’s father and his possible connection to The Evil, though Jack had always had his doubts about that.
‘Hello, Jack! Hello, Jaide!’ Tara came bounding up to them the moment they stepped from the carriage. ‘I’m so relieved you’re here. It’s been totally boring today, waiting for the train to come. I wish you could have come earlier. Do you want doughnuts? We can get some over here.’
Mr McAndrew greeted them more soberly, with none of his daughter’s wild enthusiasm. His intensely white teeth stayed hidden; obviously he didn’t feel the twins needed to be subjected to his blinding smile.
His eyes were completely normal, Jaide noted, which was encouraging. And when the twins said yes to doughnuts, he immediately fished out his wallet and gave Tara some money.
‘Meet me at the car when you’re ready, Tara. I have to make some calls, do some emails. You know.’
He hardly looked at the twins, giving all his attention to his phone.
Jaide tapped her locket and gave Jack a significant glance. Even though he was usually very attuned to Jaide’s thoughts, it took him a moment to work out that she was suggesting that their charms had bamboozled Mr McAndrew.
Which meant that she still thought he had something to do with The Evil.
‘I can’t wait for you to try the doughnuts,’ Tara said brightly while they were waiting in the queue. ‘They’re just awesome! I’ll show you around, and then we’ll go home so you can meet Fi-Fi. This will be so much fun!’
People turned to look at her, and she seemed to realise how loud she sounded.
‘Sorry,’ she said to Jack and Jaide in a more conspiratorial tone. ‘I’ve just been so bored since we moved here. You must know what I mean – Portland is even smaller than here! I love your house though. I bet there are all sorts of attics and secret passages to explore. We’ve only ever lived in new houses, and they’re all the same after a while.’
‘How many houses have you lived in?’ asked Jack.
‘Oh, dozens. I don’t know. Dad always has a house to fix up as well as a big project. We move so much.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘My mum calls us nomads because we never stop anywhere for long.’
‘How many schools have you been to?’ asked Jaide.
‘Five so far. It’ll be six soon if Dad can’t get that sawmill project started again.’
She brightened when the doughnut seller called them forward.
The twins
tried a little harder to be enthusiastic about the visit, for Tara’s sake. They’d thought they had it rough, being wrenched from the one home they’d ever lived in, and the same school they’d always attended, to come to far-off Portland. They couldn’t imagine what it must be like to go through that process over and over again.
And when Tara returned with the doughnuts, which were awesome, they began to enjoy the day for themselves too.
Scarborough seemed much more full of life than Portland, which was always pretty quiet. There was music playing in the public thoroughfare, and modern cars constantly gliding by. It was like coming back to the present after a long trip to the past. Jack and Jaide even began to forget about why they were there, as they explored the shops, licking cinnamon from their fingertips and trying not to get in the way of other people.
‘Here’s my favourite shop,’ said Tara, guiding them to a small establishment full of handmade jewellery called Zena’s Palace. When they walked in, a tall, very attractive and beautifully dressed woman came out from behind the counter.
‘Hello, dear,’ she said to Tara, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Then she turned, beaming, to Jack and Jaide, and said hello.
‘This is my mum,’ Tara explained.
‘It’s nice to meet you,’ she said to both of them. ‘I’m Zena Lin. I see from the doughnuts that Martin must have met you long enough to hand over some money at least, even if he couldn’t tear himself away from work and actually stay with you. I hope Tara has made you feel very welcome. Jaide, I really like that locket. It’s exquisitely simple, and obviously very old. Where did you get it?’
The twins immediately warmed to her, even though the attention she paid to the charm Grandma X had given Jaide made her feel momentarily uncomfortable, forcing her to lie about it, saying it was from her mother and that was all she knew.
But she was comforted that Zena dropped her enquiry immediately, seeing it made her uncomfortable. She was clearly much more perceptive than her husband. Or maybe just kinder.
Zena was different all round in fact. Where Martin McAndrew’s smile felt forced, Zena Lin’s was warm and natural. She was tall and he was almost short. Her hair was thick and styled; his was thin and carelessly parted over a slight bald spot. She seemed at least ten years younger. How they had ever got together, Jack couldn’t guess, unless perhaps it was The Evil at work again.
‘Are you sure it’s OK for both of us to stay over?’ asked Jaide.
‘Of course. We have more beds than we know what to do with. Martin’s always wanted a room for a gym, but of course he never exercises and didn’t have time to buy the equipment, so we’ve turned it into a playroom. You’ll be able to run amok all you want, as late as you want.’
‘Great,’ said Jack with heartfelt enthusiasm. Grandma X was always making them go to bed early, even earlier than their mother did.
A customer came into the shop. ‘Excuse me,’ said Zena. ‘Work beckons! You’d better not keep your father waiting too long. And don’t eat too many doughnuts – we’ve got roast chicken for dinner!’
Tara and the twins walked back to the car park where Tara’s father was leaning against a van, texting or emailing away, his fingers flying across his phone.
‘Your mother seems really nice,’ Jaide told Tara.
‘She’s all right,’ admitted Tara. ‘They’re both so busy. I barely ever see them.’
Jack hardly heard her. He was staring at the van. This was their first chance to see what lay beyond the MMM logo.
‘Sorry we’re late, Dad,’ said Tara before her father could say anything. ‘We went to see Mum.’
McAndrew didn’t look up. ‘Was she busy?’
‘Doing OK. Can we go?’
‘Yes. Hop in. I’ll only be a couple of seconds.’
Tara opened the side door and ushered them inside. Behind the rear seats, the van was full of promotional posters, flyers and stickers, all featuring MMM Holdings’ ominous slogan.
BUILDINGS TO LIVE IN.
McAndrew took more like five minutes to finish his email, but eventually the twins were on their way to Tara’s home. Their new friend chattered as they drove, pointing out landmarks as they flew by, but Jack and Jaide were more interested in the van itself. As casually as possible, they looked over every inch of its interior for any sign of The Evil, without really knowing what to look for. If there had been dead rats, moths or cockroaches, maybe that would have been a sign, but there was nothing like that at all.
The drive was short, just three corners and two short stretches of paved road from the station. Ahead of them they could see the roof of the mall that Tara’s father had helped build, and then, at the end of a winding driveway, a large white blocky house that looked as if it was made out of wedding-cake icing. The windows were narrow rectangles; the garden was as tidy as a supermodel’s hairdo. It looked ostentatious and modern – exactly the sort of thing Grandma X hated – but again there was nothing about it that said The Evil was involved.
Jaide felt her first real twinge of uncertainty. Maybe Grandma X had been right. Maybe Martin McAndrew was just a property developer with dubious morals, not a monster, and everything they had connected him to was some kind of misunderstanding.
That thought lasted only until they walked in the front door and a hideous creature leaped on Jaide, throwing her against the wall.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Scarborough Has Monsters Too
Jaide reacted instinctively, reaching for her Gift. A gust of wind rushed down the hallway, slamming doors in its wake, and the light above them went out. By then it was all she could do to stop herself being covered in drool.
‘Fi-Fi! Fi-Fi, stop!’ Tara cried, tugging at the collar of a very large and slightly shaggy grey-haired dog that weighed at least twice as much as she did. Jaide managed to get out from under its paws and stagger away.
‘This is Fi-Fi?’ gasped Jack. When Tara had said puppy, he had imagined something more like a Pekinese.
‘Yes, and she’s very naughty – aren’t you, you bad girl! Oh yes, you are. Yes, you are!’
Scolded, but also lovingly scratched between the ears for a moment, the dog turned round and ran up the hallway and back again with claws scrabbling madly on the floorboards. She skidded to a halt just inches before them, and Jaide realised that the wild light in the dog’s eyes was joy, not bloodlust.
‘She’s . . . big,’ Jaide observed.
‘Irish wolfhound,’ said Tara proudly. ‘Her full name is Feliciana Adelaide Waterford Champagne the Second. She’s a champion, but we got her cheap on the condition we don’t breed her.’
Jack reached out with a tentative hand to pat Fi-Fi’s head. It was easily as high as his. The dog leaned affectionately into him, almost pushing him over.
‘Come on through,’ said Tara, brushing past Fi-Fi in order to lead them down the hallway. ‘I’ll give you a tour.’
This was exactly what the twins wanted, and they paid close attention to everything Tara showed them. The house was L-shaped on a big plot, with numerous bedrooms and bathrooms, a shiny metallic kitchen opening on to a huge family area, a study and an entirely separate entertainment area. Jack’s eyes lit up at the sight of the giant television, Jaide’s at the swimming pool in the back garden.
‘How was the train?’ Tara asked them as she poured them soft drinks from the cavernous fridge. ‘I find it a bit lame, but better than waiting for Dad sometimes. Come and see my room. Mum’s set up a bed on the floor there for you, Jaide. Jack gets a whole room to himself.’
Tara’s bedroom seemed almost as big as a whole floor of Grandma X’s house. She had two different hand-held games consoles, a laptop, her own hair straightener, an MP3 player and a mobile phone. A doll’s house sat on a pedestal in one corner. Clothes lay scattered in drifts across the floor, corralling four or five footballs. There were two bookcases, each filled to the brim with movies, trinkets – such as the moth she had brought home from Portland, still in its jar – and of cours
e books, all of them well-thumbed. Jack scanned the spines: Tara owned a lot of novels about werewolves and vampires. He doubted any of the stories were remotely connected to real shapeshifters or the work of the Wardens.
A space had been cleared on the floor and a fold-out bed was ready for Jaide. She put her bag on it, only half-listening to Tara, and peered through the windows of the doll’s house. There was miniature furniture inside, and a miniature family, complete with miniature dog.
Tara showed Jack to the next room along, which was much smaller, containing only two single beds and another bookcase, this one filled with crime novels and spy thrillers.
‘They’re my mum’s,’ Tara said. ‘Dad doesn’t like reading. Now what would you like to do first? Go for a swim, check out the mall or watch a movie?’
The twins exhibited identical looks of indecision. It was too much to choose from. Visiting Tara was going to be work as well as fun after all.
In the end, they went to the mall, where they had another soft drink and an ice cream each, which they ate while checking out the shops. There were other kids doing the same, but the groups didn’t talk to each other much.
‘Out-of-towners,’ said Tara. ‘I mean, I’m new here myself, but they’re only in Scarborough for the day. They’ll be gone before nightfall, and won’t come back until next time the weather is nice. You must see them in Portland too.’
Jaide shook her head. ‘I think Portland is too small for tourists.’
‘And the locals are too weird,’ Jack added. ‘I think they scare visitors away.’
‘I think the people in Portland are interesting,’ said Tara. ‘Everything here is boring. I’ve seen it all before. Malls and shops . . . they’re all the same.’
‘But that’s what your dad does for a living,’ Jack pointed out.
‘And my mum too. We’d be broke without places like this, and out-of-towners to sell things to. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’d love to live in Portland, with you.’