The ingredients for the next day’s lunch were laid out on a dirty wooden counter, and Max made a beeline for it. First, he raised his hand over a stale looking loaf of bread, and clicked his fingers. The bread remained virtually the same, and Rob looked unimpressed. Max continued to click his fingers until he had transformed everything on the counter. Then he turned to the huge cauldron beside it. The contents were a mushy brown stew. He really was probably improving it. Just as he was about to transform that, too, however, irritated voices could be heard beyond the kitchen door, alerting the boys to Sam and Ella’s return.
“Not good!” Max whispered, remembering how angry they had been about the prank last year.
Grunting with impatience, Rob grabbed Max by the wrist, and pulled him silently towards the pantry. They climbed inside and closed the door, throwing themselves into darkness, just as Sam and Ella entered the kitchen.
Max listened through the door as Sam grumbled angrily. “There’s still dozens of those damn things scuttling about!” he was growling at Ella, as though the spiders were somehow her fault. “Damn brats. Why don’t you make yourself useful and get to work on the food.”
Ella didn’t respond, but a moment later, a sound of disgust carried through the pantry door.
“Oh, what did you expect?” Sam’s voice grunted. “You know I’d never use the good ingredients for those demons.”
“It tastes like salt,” Ella’s quiet voice responded. “They’ve done it again.”
Sam’s following outburst shook the entire pantry. It took Ella almost five minutes to calm him down enough to convince him to take the complaint to one of the teachers. Max sighed with relief and leaned against the wall, pushing from his mind the fact that he was most likely going to be blamed for both this new stunt, and Raven’s prank last year. He would deal with that later. Hopefully they’d send Mr. Grimm to yell at him, so at least it would be somewhat entertaining.
“Nice going,” Rob said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I bet you borrowed that prank from someone else, too.”
“No,” Max lied, a small flame springing to life in the centre of his hand, providing them enough light to see. He glared at Rob in the shimmering orange light. “That was my own…It really stinks in here. I think we should leave.”
“We finally agree on something,” Rob said, edging towards the door. Suddenly, he disappeared from the small orb of light, and, with a loud thump, crashed to the floor. He appeared to have tripped over a large, brown sack, his foot hopelessly tangled in a frayed hole in the fabric.
Laughing, Max considered leaving him there. He’d take the blame for the salt, and it was pretty funny watching him struggle to free himself. The rancid smell that filled the pantry seemed to be growing worse. Just when Max decided that was the best reason of all to leave, Rob cried out in horror.
“A hand!” he screamed, desperately tearing at the sack, to no avail. In his panic, he became more and more tangled.
Max watched him with a mixture of confusion and amusement as he gripped the handle of the door. He hesitated. The kid looked genuinely terrified, his ears flapping wildly as he struggled. Maybe it was just a little bit mean to leave him there.
Sighing, Max reluctantly let go of the door and knelt down, one hand still balancing the heatless flame. The other reached forward and pulled the kid’s foot from the sack. “Why are you freaking out-” he began. But the stench filled his nose, and he was forced to withdraw, holding his breath and trying not to vomit.
Instead of thanking him, or answering his question, Rob got shakily to his feet and pointed a trembling hand at the sack.
As Max crouched to inspect it, a chill ran through him. Something dark stained the sack, and the stone floor beneath it. It was blood. He reluctantly turned his gaze to the hole, a sickly feeling rising in his chest. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening…
A bloodstained hand was protruding from the hole, stiff and motionless. It looked so realistic. But, it couldn’t be. It had to be some kind of joke. Probably one of Raven’s. Lifting the sack as far as he dared, he had to cover his mouth with both hands to stop himself screaming. The flame immediately went out, leaving the two of them in darkness once again. They scrambled for the door, bursting out into the kitchen and through the door to the dining hall. They didn’t stop until they were outside, by the golden fence. Max was vaguely aware that the barrels of spiders had been sent flying in their rush, but he didn’t particularly care. He gripped onto the fence, breathing heavily, and willing himself not to throw up.
Rob was in a much worse state. He collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, shivering with his tail wrapped around him. All either of them could see, every time they closed their eyes, was that hand.
“What do we do?” Max whispered. He had to tell someone. He had to take one of the teachers to the kitchen right now. But would anyone even listen to two kids on detention for playing practical jokes? That didn’t matter. He had to tell someone, right now.
…So, why wasn’t he moving?
“Did…did we close the pantry door?” Rob whispered, when he finally calmed down enough to talk. “Is there any way we could pretend not to have seen…”
A shuffling in the bushes nearby made them jump, and Max unconsciously pressed himself against the bars as he squinted in their direction. Just the wind. “We have to go back in there,” he said, although it was the last thing he wanted to do. “Find Mr. Grimm, or someone. They won’t believe us…but if we can get them to follow us to the kitchen, the evidence is right there. They can’t ignore-“
“No way,” Rob said, shaking his head furiously. “I’m getting out of here. And I’m going to forget I ever saw it. If you were smart, you’d do the same. We don’t know who put it there-“
“It was Sam, obviously,” Max interrupted indignantly.
“We don’t know that,” Rob countered angrily. “If we go in there raising the alarm, whoever did it is going to know we’re the ones who found it. Then they’ll be after us.” He got to his feet, still trembling from head to toe, and hobbled away without sparing Max another glance.
Max thought about what he had said for a moment. He had a point. But, how were they supposed to just forget it?
Chapter four
Max very rarely visited the Gingerbread House. For one thing, it was deep in the forest on the outskirts of the island, and the only safe way to it was a narrow, hilly path flanked by towering trees. For another, Raven’s family was kind of…creepy. Everyone on the island seemed to agree, and the Hatters were rarely given a welcome greeting when out in public.
As he approached the door, which was a giant block of dark chocolate, he was greeted by the twins. Each twin had messy blonde hair and wore dungarees decorated with little sweets. “Welcome,” they said in unison, their dark eyes sparkling. Noticing that Max was panting as though he had run the entire way, they tilted their heads to the side, moving in perfect synch. “What’s wrong?” the female twin asked.
“What’s wrong?” the male twin repeated.
“Can I come in and see Raven?” Max said, his voice still breathless. He resisted the urge to clasp his hand over the stitch in his side, and stood, slightly hunched, as he waited for them to decide to let him in the house.
The twins looked at each other, then together they opened the door. It was like walking into a dream. From the outside, all that could be seen was the windows, which were paneled with candy canes, and the walls and roof, which were solid gingerbread, lined with icing and peppered with sweets wrapped in white and red striped paper. But the inside was something else entirely. Everything was bright and colourful, the scent of candy floss hanging in the air. The floor was made of red liquorice laces, the walls covered with chocolates, fudge, toffees, turkish delight, fruit drops and bon bons. The curtains appeared to be sugar paper, and the arch way into the next room was made from two, overlapping
giant lollypops. Overhead, glowing cherries lit the room. But Max was not interested in any of this. He allowed the twins to lead him into the next room to sit on a soft, marshmellow chair, and waited in complete silence for Raven.
Five minutes later, the twins returned, followed by a very puzzled looking Raven. Raven looked completely out of place in his own home. His battered old hat, and his patched up robes looked too dull to be allowed here. But his eyes sparkled in the exact same way as his siblings’. “S’up?” he said, his bewildered expression fading into one of casual curiosity. “You want to talk upstairs? Hanson, Areta. Two cups of hot chocolate please.”
“Right~!” the female twin, Areta responded cheerfully, before bouncing back out of the room, followed by her brother.
“And don’t disturb the old man! He’s busy!”
“Right~!” Hanson’s voice called back through the doorway.
Max followed Raven upstairs, glancing vaguely at the artifacts that lined the corridor. The Gingerbread House doubled as a home, and a small museum run by Raven’s father, Hamelin Hatter. It had been built by an eccentric old witch who would animate sweets for company. One gingerbread man had escaped and wreaked havoc throughout the island. Each corridor displayed glass cases filled with old artifacts, including the alleged gingerbread man, who sat motionless when watched, but appeared to be in a different position each time someone looked at him, and an old, torn cloak which had apparently belonged to Humphrey Dumpkins. Allegedly. Max always doubted its authenticity, since Raven’s family probably had no business owning something that belonged to the great man himself.
At the end of a particularly long corridor, Raven pushed aside a curtain of jelly babies, revealing a shabby looking wooden hole. He clambered through, and when Max followed, he had already settled himself in a faded old arm chair, patched in the same way as his robes and hat. His cat was fast asleep on the pillow of his bed, which dipped to the floor in the middle; the assorted blankets a complete mismatch. Max sat himself down on a fraying bean bag, clutching his hands together in obvious distress.
“If you don’t start talking soon,” Raven said, pulling a plate of gingerbread biscuits from the cluttered desk and pushing it into Max’s hands, forcing them apart. “I might actually start getting concerned. What happened?”
Max absentmindedly ate the gingerbread biscuits as he told Raven everything. Surprisingly, Raven sat and listened without interrupting once, slightly forward in his seat, as though eager to hear every detail. By the time Max had finished, there was a slight commotion beyond the hole they had crawled through, and something large and fluffy bounced into the room, landing heavily on Max’s knee. It took him by surprise, until he realized it was a large, brown and white rabbit.
“Ah! Bruno!” Hanson cried, pushing aside the curtain to clamber through the hole after it. “Areta! He came in here.”
Areta hurried through after her brother, holding the curtain open to allow the tray of hot chocolate to follow her. “Bad Bruno!” she reprimanded, picking the rabbit up, which looked a difficult task. He was almost as big as she was. Max looked down at the remaining gingerbread biscuits. They were broken and covered in long, white and brown hairs. Giving them a disgusted look, he lifted the plate back onto the desk.
Raven caught the tray of hot chocolate. “Thank you, you two,” he said, smiling brightly despite all that he had just heard. “Could you give us a moment?” he added, as the twins looked as though they wanted to stay.
Looking slightly upset, the two of them left, Areta struggling to hold the huge rabbit. As soon as the curtain swung shut, Raven’s smile faded. “You’re not lying,” he said quietly. “I can tell. Which means, either you really did see a body in the kitchen, or that little Rob Goblin is a much better prankster than we thought.”
“You think he might have been tricking me?” Max said, his voice slightly hopeful. He remembered the way Rob had insisted they keep quiet.
“It’s doubtful,” Raven admitted. “How was he supposed to know you’d go straight for the kitchen? Or that Sam and Ella would almost catch you?”
“Oh,” Max said, his heart sinking. Then he really had seen…
“We’ll get evidence tomorrow,” Raven said decisively. “Then we won’t have to draw attention to ourselves.”
*
Max didn’t sleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, nightmarish images ran through his mind, waking him instantly. He found himself thinking, almost bitterly, that Raven was probably sleeping like a baby. Well…He hadn’t seen it yet.
He found himself being woken by Scarlet’s usual stomping five minutes after he finally managed to fall into an uneasy sleep. Groaning, he turned over and looked at his alarm. It was snoozing in a carefree way. It wasn’t time for it to start screaming yet. Despite his tired, foul mood, he guessed it was better to be early this morning. He still had no idea how they were going to get the evidence without drawing attention to themselves. Forgoing breakfast, he changed quickly and hurried out of the house, unconsciously wandering in the direction of the school. What was the best way of getting evidence? They’d have to get into the pantry and take something to the teachers. But…
He stopped dead as he reached the market, staring at the new stall. Of course!
The stall was being set up by a slimy looking hag with mouldy green hair and beady, untrustworthy looking eyes. “Not open yet,” she barked impatiently as Max approached. “Come back later.”
“I heard you have a mortal, picture taking device here,” Max said, ignoring her attempts to shoo him away. “How much?”
“Five greens,” the hag said shortly, putting the item in question on display. It was smoking horribly. Whatever spell she had used on it had most certainly gone wrong. “You’d never be able to afford it. Now get on with you!”
“Surely you can part with that…work of art,” a voice behind Max interrupted. It was the pixie. She waltzed up to the stall, smiling brightly. “It looks terribly distracting, anyway. I bet you’d sell a lot more without it there.”
The hag glowered at her. She looked as though she wanted nothing more than to hex the two teenagers standing before her.
“I have two greens,” the pixie went on, pulling two, precious looking green marbles from a bag at her waist. She placed them on the counter in front of the hag, who eyed them greedily. “How about you let him borrow it? If he can’t pay you by the end of the day, you get the camera back, and you get to keep these. Then you can charge some other fool-…loyal customer five greens.”
The hag grumbled to herself for a moment, her eyes unfocused. She seemed to be weighing up the pros and cons of the situation. Eventually, she decided to take up the pixie on her offer. “If he doesn’t return it, or give me the money,” she threatened, as Max swept up the device. “I’ll be taking that trinket of yours.” She pointed to a gold necklace around the pixie’s neck. It had a small, intricate cage attached to it, in which were a couple of fireflies, sleeping at the moment.
The pixie looked nervous for a second, but nodded. “Deal,” she said. And when she and Max turned to leave, she added in a hushed voice. “You’d better pay her. This necklace is important.”
“Where do you expect me to find three greens?” Max asked, raising his eyebrows at her. Really, risking something she claimed was so important for someone she didn’t even know. Was this girl stupid? “Don’t worry, pixie. I only need it for today, anyway.” And he ran off without remembering to thank her.
“You’re welcome!” the pixie shouted after him in exasperation. “And my name’s Chariot, by the way…Not that you care. Or can even hear me any more…Idiot.”
*
As Max had expected, Rob was avoiding him that day. Every time the two of them crossed paths, the year seven would edge as far away from Max as he could possibly get, deliberately avoiding eye contact. It was probably for the best. What he hadn’t been expecting,
however, was the lack of spiders. It seemed every single one of them had vanished. Perhaps they had been rounded up, but no one came to reprimand him for not doing it himself. Not even Mr. Grimm. Maybe they were waiting to mention it during his detention. He wasn’t sure whether he was thankful or not that he would be serving it alone.
Max didn’t dare bring up his plan with Raven, afraid that whoever had put the body in the pantry would hear. In fact, when it came to Raven, Max was the one doing the avoiding. Raven seemed to have completely forgotten about the whole thing. But, as Max hurried out of his last class, making a nervous beeline for the dining hall, Raven stopped him half way down the corridor.
“I was wondering if you had a plan,” Raven said casually, his voice a little lower than usual. “You do, don’t you?”
“I got a picture taking device from the market,” Max said shortly. “I’m on clean up duty in the dining hall today, so I’ll sneak into the kitchen when no teachers are watching. Don’t worry yourself with it. Just go home.”
“And what kind of friend would I be if I did that?” Raven asked, pretending to look offended. He gave his cat a swift nod, and, grudgingly, she scurried down to the other end of the corridor. “We’ll keep a look out.”
“Thanks,” Max said gratefully. He hadn’t expected Raven to be so helpful. Taking a deep breath to ready himself, he glanced nervously down the corridor to where the cat was sat, her eyes narrowed in anticipation, then he hurried into the kitchen. The door had barely swung shut before he pulled out the camera.
Raven moved into the dining hall and sat down at the table nearest the door. He removed his hat, and was just pulling out a tea pot, a small, fragile cup, and a sugar bowl, when his cat came scrambling into the room, looking agitated. Raven didn’t need to ask why. Following the cat was Mr. Grimm.
“Oh, hey sir,” Raven greeted him with a smile, and a half nervous glance towards the kitchen door. He began to nonchalantly pour himself a cup of tea.
On the Other Side Page 3