by Kim Thompson
“He’s not here,” said Miss Trang.
“I am forced to take matters into my own hands!” exclaimed Hacker.
“Good for you,” Miss Trang snapped as she stepped back inside and shut the gate. Willa smiled.
Miss Trang walked slowly back to her.
“It’s been a stressful few weeks. I’m sorry I couldn’t get back sooner, but now I’m here and you can return to your own life. Everything here is under control. The house is coming along nicely, Robert will get his basement room soon, Baz will get the next room. I’m happy to stay in the stable. Tengu will keep Mab and the girls company. We’ll be fine, Willa. You can go home.”
Willa stood up. Things felt so unfinished. “I’d like to apologize to Belle and ask her to come back.”
“People live their own lives, Willa. They’re not available every time you need to feel better. I’ve moved her to another safe house in another time entirely.”
“Another time? But how can I see her?”
“That’s not really an option any more.”
Willa walked home in a daze. That’s it, then. Lost and found and lost again, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Belle’s gone, the phoenix is gone, and Baz hasn’t been home for two days, so she’s probably gone too. It’s just Mom and Dad and me again. Back to normal.
Back to normal. The day passed. Willa sleepwalked through a morning at school, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything, couldn’t even hear what people were saying to her, so at lunch she just left and wandered around town. She sat by a pond and watched the ducks. The sky was grey and cheerless. Willa felt chilled. She’d felt cold ever since the wake-up call from the black horse. After the pond, she walked and walked, not caring where she was going. In the late afternoon she found herself at the foot of Hanlan’s Hill, but she didn’t really want to go up there. There was no need.
As she stood looking up at the path and the trees, she saw a large shape settle into one of them — the phoenix. She was relieved to see the bird; she hadn’t seen her since she let her go, and it was good to know she was all right. The bird sat there quietly, gazing around. Willa’s thoughts drifted to her family again.
I didn’t have a grandmother all these years, so why should it matter if she’s gone now?
But Willa knew it mattered. She felt hurt … hurt that Belle would leave her. She felt like she’d been orphaned, even though that made no sense at all. Staring at the bird, Willa remembered that the phoenix was an orphan, for real. Every phoenix had to be an orphan, since their parent died so they could be born in the flames.
I bet that doesn’t make it any easier, thought Willa. You don’t have to actually know your mom, or your grandma, to miss her.
The bird twitched her head to look at her, and Willa felt an extra layer of sadness fall over her. She turned to go home.
At her house Belle’s window was dark, but the others glowed with warmth. It was suppertime. Mom was warming up a tray of lasagna. Dad was fiddling with the radio, trying to find the news. Willa sat down, listening to them chat about their day. Calm descended over her like a blanket. With every tick of the clock, all the craziness seemed to move farther and farther away. For weeks she had longed for Miss Trang to come back. She didn’t want the responsibility any more; she wanted to be rid of it, and rid of all of them, actually. She had to be honest about it. She was tired of the whole show, the whole weird, creepy show.
Willa found she was super-hungry, and the lasagna was fantastic. When she went to her room the black stain was gone. Absolutely, totally gone. Willa ran her hand over the surface of the desk. She was relieved, certainly, but uneasy. Could everything be solved so suddenly? Having Miss Trang around — was that all it took for problems to vanish? Willa felt a twinge of resentment. Your work is done. That’s what she said. Willa knew she was only supposed to be in charge temporarily, but she couldn’t help feeling like she’d been fired. And she couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that she could have done a much better job. She could have looked after them all a little better. She could have been more patient and less grumpy. She stared at the desk, frowning. I could have figured out how to help the phoenix instead of just trying to shut her up. I could have maybe not driven Belle away.
At this her eyes teared up. She didn’t want to think about it any more. She lay on the bed and closed her eyes. Belle was gone somewhere else, but she’d be all right. And the others would be all right too, just like Miss Trang said.
Her eyes flicked open.
Miss Trang didn’t mention Horace.
Willa sat up, casting her mind back. When she’d told Miss Trang about Horace in the beginning, what had she said? That she would “take him in hand.”
Willa jumped to her feet and grabbed her sweater. Her work was not done. Not by a long shot.
Chapter Nine
Into the dark
It was getting dark as Willa rushed down the street. She took a longer route to avoid passing Eldritch Manor. She didn’t want to run into Miss Trang, because she’d probably just order her to go home. Funny how she’d wanted a grownup to show up and tell her what to do, and now that one had come, she really, really didn’t want to be bossed around. Not any more.
She wondered what she was going to find at the hill. What if Horace wasn’t there? What if Miss Trang had moved him somewhere? What if she had “taken him in hand”? Willa wasn’t sure what that meant, but she had a strong feeling it wasn’t good. But why should she be so suspicious of what Miss Trang might do to Horace? She remembered how she used to be scared of her, before she found out Miss Trang was one of the “good guys.” So who were the good guys now? She wasn’t sure about anything anymore, except that Horace needed help — help that would not come from Miss Trang.
The fog was rolling in thick waves around her, and she didn’t see the goblin until he had run right into her. A horrible, green, warty face looked up at Willa, mumbled “sorry,” and the little figure scurried off into the night, followed by a three-foot-tall butterfly and an even smaller pumpkin with legs. Willa relaxed with a smile. It’s Hallowe’en! She’d forgotten all about it. In the darkness she could make out hazy, costumed figures in all shapes and sizes, and along the street windows glowed red with jack o’ lantern light. She watched the ghosts and ghouls tripping up porch steps with their bags of candy, chirping “Trick or treat” and then dashing back to their parents waiting on the sidewalk. Willa shook her head. Trick-or-treating felt a million miles away to her. I feel like I’m living Hallowe’en every day.
She hurried along. Ahead she could see three children staring at her and whispering to each other. They were all wearing owl masks, very good ones — the white disks of their faces glowed in the dark, and their black eyes glittered. They were joined by two more kids in owl masks, then another four. Willa hurried past them, a little uneasy at their stares. They followed her, their numbers increasing. Glancing back, she saw there were close to twenty of them now, all wearing identical, feathery capes. And they didn’t have any trick-or-treat bags.
Willa broke into a run. Behind her she heard the patter of small feet following. Turning a corner, she put on a burst of speed. She sprinted to the end of the block, imagining that the footsteps were falling back a bit.
She raced on, dodging ghosts and witches and superheroes until Hanlan’s Hill came into view. An ambulance was parked at the foot of the trail. Her heart sank. Is that for Horace? Am I too late? Behind the ambulance there was another car parked, a familiar one. Hacker! So he had called them in to pick up Horace. That might not be as easy as they expect, she mused.
Reaching the trail, she turned to scan the street. The little mob of owl children was far behind. Above her the hill was swathed in fog so thick it looked like cotton batting. Willa took a deep breath and started up the hill.
She couldn’t see very far in front of her, so she stared down at the path as she ran. From behind and below ghostly wailing came to her ears, along with shouts and laughter. She couldn’t hear anyone
following, but she did hear a familiar clacking sound — clack clack clack CLACK off to her right, and another clack clack CLACK way up ahead. Willa stumbled a bit but kept moving.
They’re just guys with bird heads, she told herself. I’ve seen worse.
There were other strange sounds, on all sides now — rustling and little cries in the night — but she forced herself to focus on the path at her feet. No point in looking up at every noise; everything was lost in fog and darkness anyway.
She heard a loud roar and shouts up ahead. Horace! Her heart sank. Then someone was running, crashing through the brush toward her. There was a tree by the path and she scrambled up it, hiding in the branches just as two large men appeared running down the path, sheer terror in their eyes. The first one stopped suddenly and the second ran into him. They were both dressed in dark uniforms with reflective vests. One had a flashlight, which he shone back the way they’d come.
“Jesus!” he exclaimed. The other just leaned over, panting. After another moment a third man stumbled into the flashlight’s beam. It was Hacker.
“Don’t shine that in my eyes, you idiot!” he gasped. The man lowered the flashlight. They all caught their breath, staring back the way they’d come.
“So what about the old man?” asked Hacker. The other two were shaking their heads.
“He’s on his own! I am not going back up there with that animal on the loose!”
Hacker persisted. “But he’s dangerous!”
“Newsflash, buddy!” exclaimed the paramedic. “I’m thinkin’ a flippin’ lion is maybe more dangerous than an old man!”
“Listen,” added the other. “I don’t think your friend is up here anyway. He’s probably safe at home, like I wish I was. The lion must have escaped from a zoo or something. We’ve gotta call it in.”
“Yeah. Let the cops handle it.”
“Shh! I heard something.” They froze, the flashlight beam pointed up the path. There was a moment of silence, then —
ROAR! A massive shape exploded into the light. The three men screamed and fled down the path. The lion trotted a few steps, then stopped and sat back on his haunches, watching them go. He let out a snort that sounded like a chuckle, then lifted one paw in a swooping gesture. A blast of wind whooshed through. Willa gripped her branch tightly to keep from being blown down. The lion swooped a second blast of air down the hill toward the fleeing men. Willa heard them holler in the distance. Then the lion turned to a nearby tree and raised his paw once more. The tree burst into life as a dark mass of ravens rose and rushed like a storm down the hill, cawing murderously.
“No, Horace! Stop!” called Willa in alarm.
The lion turned and two golden eyes glinted in the dark, searching for her. She opened her mouth to call again, but something held her back. Fear.
The lion paced silently toward her tree, then paused. He was definitely bigger than before, fully twice the size of a normal lion. He was so close, she could have stretched out her foot and stepped onto his tawny back. But he didn’t know where she was. His head swung back and forth as he peered about. Willa held her breath. The wind must have muddled her scent, because the lion snuffled this way and that but couldn’t locate her. After a while the lion finally moved away, retracing his steps back up the hill.
Willa waited a long time, hugging her tree branch. Then she climbed down the tree, angry at herself. Why didn’t you speak? It was just Horace, for heaven’s sake. Now I’ve got to catch up to him again.
She jogged along the trail, but the lion had gotten too far ahead of her. She decided he must have gone to the lookout point, which wasn’t far. That was probably where Hacker and the paramedics had found him.
As she drew closer to the lookout, one sound grew louder — a weird rustling, soft and at the same time immense. The fog was thinning as Willa reached the clearing. There was no sign of the lion, but she now saw the source of the rustling. It was caused by a steady stream of shapes pouring out of the big black crevice in the rock: birds beyond count, beyond measure, birds rushing out like a river flowing up into the sky.
Willa stared. She was out of the fog now, with the night sky overhead, but she could see no moon or stars. They were blotted out by vast flocks of dark birds. The whole sky was moving, bubbling, and boiling. Staring up Willa could almost feel the earth beneath her feet mimicking the motion, shifting, sliding. It was making her dizzy. She reached out and held on to a tree to steady herself. She looked around again for the lion but couldn’t see him anywhere.
Out of the flapping sound came familiar clacking noises, which were also growing louder. Willa ducked quickly out of sight as a group of Stork Men emerged from the path behind her. They gathered rather casually around the crevice, watching the birds fly out, then one by one they entered it, holding up an arm to shield their faces from the thousands of little birds that bounced off them before disappearing with the others into the sky.
Then the flow of birds suddenly ceased, the rushing sound faded away, and Willa was left in absolute silence. As she stepped out into the open, a shaft of light hit her like a spotlight. The full moon shone through a gap in the wheeling birds, and the lookout was bathed for a moment in white light.
The crevice was bigger than before, she was sure of it. It was utterly still and quiet inside.
She crept closer and gazed inside. The darkness looked back at her, and her eyes grew bigger to take it all in. She felt fear and hopelessness expanding inside her.
What should I do? What can I do? I’m just a useless, stupid kid! I’m just a kid, and I’ve got no one to help me! I can’t count on anybody! An image of Belle and her mother flashed into her mind, both scowling, and she felt anger in her chest, swirling in a ball, picking up speed, and growing….
Belle left me, didn’t even say goodbye. Mom doesn’t care, Dad is no help, even Grandpa is mad at me. And Miss Trang is some kind of heartless monster. Nobody cares about me, they’re all mean and selfish and …
She stared at the blackness, consumed by her thoughts, until she noticed the edges of the crevice moving. She blinked, and the scene came back into focus. The black stain before her was growing, slowly expanding. On the ground, rivulets of darkness trickled out toward her feet. She jumped back just as she heard a sound — a slow, steady scraping. Something was shifting in the darkness.
“Horace?” she whispered. “Horace? Are you in there?”
Silence. The scraping sound began again, ending in a sudden flick as a wingtip slid out from the bottom corner of the crevice. As Willa stared, there emerged from the crevice the edge of a wing fully thirty feet tall. Other scratching and shuffling noises could be heard. The rock face creaked and groaned. Small cracks began to appear. Something very, very large was pushing its way out.
Willa shook herself free from her trance and fled. The fog closed in around her as she descended the hill. She ran blindly, breathless with fear, until she reached a fork in the path. A turn to the right would take her down the hill. She paused for a moment. The urge to go right and run all the way home was very strong … but she knew she couldn’t do that, not yet. She took a deep breath and sprinted to the left.
A minute later she ran smack into a low, large form and tumbled over it into the bushes. There was a growl and a hiss, and she was surrounded by dark shapes, all advancing on her with animal eyes glinting. She struggled to sit up but found herself tangled in thorny vines. The moon broke through just then, silhouetting the creature she’d tripped over — a round shape larger than the others, with gleaming yellow eyes.
“Baz?” Willa squinted, but the moon disappeared again. There was a hand on her shoulder.
“Are you hurt?” It was Tengu, looming out of the fog.
“Tengu! Am I glad to see you!” He helped her up. Baz and her gang of felines, now numbering at least thirty, stood around, all staring at her, as she caught her breath. “There’s something up there in a cave, something huge, with wings…. Have you seen Horace? He’s in lion form — he’s ju
st scared off Hacker and two others….”
“Haven’t seen him, but we saw Hacker and his friends running away, the scaredy cats,” replied Tengu. “We only just got here, ahead of Miss Trang.”
Willa bit her lip. “Is she … what’s she going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Tengu looked around nervously. “But she’s in a mood.”
“She’s coming after Horace, isn’t she?”
Tengu nodded.
“Will you help me find him?” Willa asked.
“Of course.”
Willa turned to the yellow eyes in the dark. “Baz? Will you help too?”
Baz stared back, and her eyes looked human, almost.
“Meow,” she said, but it sounded like yes. Willa could have bear-hugged them both, she felt so glad all over, but she just jumped to her feet.
“Let’s go!”
They hurried along, but Willa didn’t know how they’d find anything in that fog, even something as large as a giant lion. She told them more about the crevice and the birds. Tengu was at as much of a loss about it as she was. Baz didn’t say a word, bounding along in front on all fours while the other cats flowed through the underbrush. It was a steady climb; the path went around the entire hill, spiralling to the top. Whenever the fog cleared a bit, Willa glanced around, catching glimpses of the hill below them, but there was no sign of Horace anywhere. The strange noises resumed on all sides, shrieks and cackles and clacking and the flapping of wings, large and small. She stumbled from time to time on the rough path, but Tengu was always at her elbow to help her along.
As they neared the hill’s peak, they heard a rush of wind and a loud whoosh overhead. Tengu pulled Willa into the trees, followed by Baz. He pointed up into the sky.
“Look! It’s Trang!”
The fog swirled in eddies, revealing a glittering form above them. A short burst of flame illuminated the dragon for a moment as she landed on the top of the hill. Then all was dark and quiet. Willa wrinkled her nose at the smell of sulphur, imagining Miss Trang perched up there, scanning the hill for Horace.