When that day came, however, he was late. It seemed his alarm was under the impression that he was still suspended, and his grandmother had left early to go to the market. Scarlet was no help, either. She absconded without bothering to wake him. He grumbled angrily to himself as he quickly got dressed and rushed out of the house and up the rickety stairs. He would miss the first lesson, and probably get yelled at again by Mr. Grimm.
As he crossed the sweet smelling field of purple flowers, another smell tainted the air. One of burnt wood and ash. Reluctantly, he looked towards Humphrey Dumpkin’s mansion, and was hit by a sudden pang of guilt. Even if he hadn’t caused the fire, it had happened because someone wanted him dead. Another pang hit him, as he realized that someone was in the field with him. He had to look twice at the shadowy figure, who hadn’t appeared to notice him yet. But it was definitely Sam. He was standing over the old well, looking down into its depths. Maybe he was looking for a place to dump more bodies, Max thought bitterly.
Unfortunately for him, Sam must have sensed his bitter stare, because, at that moment, he turned. “Not good,” Max whispered, attempting to hasten his efforts to get to the school. Too late. Sam was approaching quickly.
“Hey, boy,” Sam growled, swiftly catching up to Max and putting a strong hand on his shoulder, his filthy nails digging their way into the fabric of his shirt. “I heard you were trying to ruin my good name.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Max said bitterly. “It wasn’t ‘good’ to begin with.”
Sam laughed, but Max could feel his nails digging into his skin, now. “Funny. But isn’t it your little friend they decided to arrest? Maybe you should try looking closer to home.” Max glowered at him, but that only served to amuse him further. “Let me give you some advice-” he began, but he was promptly interrupted.
“Max!” Gilda’s voice called out from the school entrance. There was suddenly a lot of commotion from the direction of the door. The first lesson had ended, and Max could see people passing the windows on their way to the next. He let out a small sigh of relief as Gilda hurried over to them. Sam released Max and slouched off towards the school.
Gilda watched him go nervously, the mice on her shoulder following him with their keen noses, even as she turned her attention to Max. “I’m so happy you’re back! Was he giving you trouble?”
“Not really,” Max said, trying to sound casual. “Is Mr. Grimm really angry that I’m late?”
“I don’t think he really cares…” Gilda said slowly. “I mean! With everything that’s been going on. Did you hear about Raven?”
Max nodded grimly. “But you don’t believe it, right?” he asked. “Raven would never do anything like that. It’s Sam, and I’m going to expose him.”
Gilda gave him a small smile. “You really care about Raven, don’t you?” she said sadly. “I hope everything works out. I find it hard to believe that he’s capable of something so horrible, too. But Sam?”
“Remember what I told you,” Max pointed out, lowering his voice. “We’ll find that Rob Goblin and I’ll make him back me up on the story-“
“Didn’t you hear?” Gilda interrupted. “Rob’s dead. I mean, he hasn’t been seen since Halloween.”
Chapter eight
It was strange, only having Gilda to talk to. Not exactly unpleasant, but Max found himself focusing more on his homework, as he didn’t have much distraction. He still wanted to go see Raven; to ask him what was the last he’d seen of Rob. But his grandmother still forbade it. Maybe he’d just go without her permission…He was in enough trouble as it was.
More frustrating was the fact that he couldn’t find an opportunity to return Chariot’s necklace to her. Whenever he remembered to take it to school, Gilda would always swoop over to talk to him, making him miss each opportunity to approach her. If he believed she was the type, he would have sworn she did it on purpose. One day, near the end of November, he decided he would deliver it to her house, where Gilda couldn’t interrupt.
Although Max had never visited Chariot before, she had given him a rough idea of where her house was. It was in the forest, on the opposite side of the island to the Gingerbread House, and over an old, stone bridge. Everyone knew the bridge, and most people stayed away from it. It was one of the many superstitions of the island, that trolls inhabited the space under it, and would pull trespassers to their deaths in the stream below. Max had never believed this rubbish, and, having explored the forest countless times, he knew for a fact it was false. It was strange how he had never run into Chariot out here before she transferred to his class, now he thought about it.
Two unpleasant looking creatures were lounging in a small garden surrounded by a low wooden fence, low enough for Max to step over. But, seeing the grey, bloodshot eyes of the pair following his every movement, he decided to use the gate.
“Password,” one of the creatures demanded, even though it was too late. He was already in the garden.
“I don’t have one,” Max said impatiently. “I’m here to see Chariot.”
“Chariot?” the two creatures repeated in unison.
“Oh, you mean Cinder,” one of them snickered, as though this was somehow hilarious to him.
“Why would you want to visit Cinder?”
“She’s my friend. Is she here, or not?”
The two burst into wicked, unhelpful laughter, and Max glared at them.
“What are you two chuckling at?” Chariot’s voice called from the doorway. A moment later, she emerged, carrying two bowls of putrid green slime. “We’re all out of frogspawn so this will have to-” Seeing Max, she stopped. “Oh. What are you doing here?”
To no surprise of Max, she didn’t look happy to see him. Before he could give her the necklace and leave, however, the two chuckling creatures stopped laughing long enough to interrupt.
“He’s here to see you,” one of them cackled.
“He must have lost a bet,” the other one sneered.
“Here. Take your soup and leave us alone,” Chariot said shortly, handing the bowls over to them. Then, reluctantly, she gestured for Max to follow her inside. “My step brothers,” she explained once they were in the kitchen, which was filled with plants of all kinds. They hung from the ceiling, stood in large pots on the floor, occupied most of the space on the splintering table, and crawled up the walls. Max observed a curious looking vine as it slowly edged towards a small cauldron on the counter, which was issuing a foul smelling smoke, and seemed to contain more of that green slime. He still couldn’t take his eyes off the plants as he followed Chariot into a living room, which contained only a handful of plant pots, half hidden among furniture cloaked in dusty, faded sheets, and long, moth eaten curtains. Chariot led the way through a curtain, and up a set of spindly steps, curving their way up to the middle of a narrow corridor. Eventually, they entered a door at the very end; a small, curved door, certainly not big enough for a bedroom.
It wasn’t a bedroom. It was a small laundry room with an even smaller platform leading to a pathetic looking old mattress.
“They won’t come snooping in here,” Chariot said, sitting on the mattress and gesturing for Max to do the same. “What do you want? It better be good.”
“I…” Max started, his eyes travelling along the platform on which they sat. There were a number of school books up here, and a couple of handmade looking dolls. “Is this where you sleep?”
“Is that why you came? To ask me stupid questions,” Chariot snapped. “I happen to like it up here.”
“…Sorry,” Max said quickly, reaching into his pocket to pull out the necklace. The two fireflies were sat inside the cage, looking harassed at having been trapped in there for so long. “I found this.” He held it out for her to take.
Chariot’s eyes widened. “How?” she started. “Where did you find it? I thought that hag had taken it, wherever she vanished to.” In t
oo much shock to remember to thank him, she took the necklace and examined it. “It’s definitely mine…”
“It was in Humphrey Dumpkin’s house,” Max said, and immediately wished he hadn’t.
“Oh, here we go,” Chariot said bitterly. “I should have known you just came here to talk about what happened in there. Guess what. I don’t care. I can’t believe you agreed to go in there at all, and then you had the nerve to burn it down! Did it ever occur to you even once just how important that place is?”
“No-” Max started. “I mean…Yes, of course it did…But I didn’t start that fire. And I really did find the necklace in there. Sam must have taken her there…And the others. I found some stairs leading to-“
“Oh, shut up!” Chariot snapped. “Sam would never have even been able to get in there in the first place.”
“Huh?” Max said, completely confused now. “But I got in easy.”
“That’s because…” Chariot started, now looking nervously at the necklace. “It’s because Raven was with you. The wizards told us that night. When Rob went missing, and you went into the house. Only a member of Humphrey Dumpkin’s family can open that gate. Either them, or a wizard…I found it kind of strange how much of his stuff Raven’s family have in that little museum of theirs. But, it’s because he was a distant relative.”
“What?” Max asked bluntly. He thought that might have been something Raven would have told him, if it was true.
“Honestly, I thought you would have known,” Chariot said, shaking her head at him. She turned her attention back to her necklace, watching as one of the fireflies left the cage and circled around the small space. “But then it makes sense, doesn’t it?” she said quietly. “How this got in there…I guess, this is real evidence that Raven was the one behind it all.”
“You don’t believe that, do you?” Max said, horrified.
“How else do you suppose this got in there?”
“What about the body I found in the kitchen?”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Chariot said in exasperation. “Anyone could have put that there. The kitchen isn’t exactly locked by a charm that only a select few people can open, is it?”
“But-” Max started to insist, but Chariot wasn’t listening any more.
“I’m going to tell the wizards about this,” she decided. “Then they’ll have to send him down. He can’t be allowed to hurt anyone else.”
“They’ll hang him!” Max shouted.
“Yes. They will,” Chariot said calmly, her voice filled with indifference.
*
There were so many questions Max had for Raven. Why hadn’t he told him his family were related to Humphrey Dumpkins? Had he even known? Why was everyone so sure he was behind the disappearances? And what was the last he saw of Rob? These were questions, he feared, he would never know the answer to now. Surely Chariot had told the wizards, and they were fitting Raven for execution as Max lay on his bed, staring up at the floating planets, and feeling sorry for himself. What could he do? Had Sam won? No. He couldn’t let that happen. He knew what he had to do to prove his friend’s innocence.
The next day, he hurried to school early, without having his breakfast or even saying good morning to his grandmother. He was going to inspect the well, hoping to confirm his suspicions. Unfortunately for him, Mr. Grimm was still watching him like a hawk, and Gilda kept getting in the way at every opportunity. So, that afternoon, he left school, with every intention of grabbing some food and rope, and returning to the well when no one else was around.
“Tell me, where was it ever said, that I had to serve you?”
Max turned to see Hamelin Hatter standing in front of a stall, apparently attempting to pay for a basket of vegetables. He was a rather tall man, wearing a cape as patched as his son’s. The man behind the counter was refusing to take his money. “Go on. Shoo!” Hamelin sighed and began emptying the contents of his basket back onto the stall.
“You’re Raven’s dad, right?” Max said loudly, approaching the stall. “Is there a problem here?”
Hamelin turned and gave him a crooked smile, but before he could respond, the owner of the stall interjected rudely. “No good, rotten family, the lot of ’em!” he spat. “None of you are welcome at this market! I’m sure everyone here agrees.” There was a soft murmur among the owners of most of the stalls closest to them, and Max saw Gilda’s mother nodding vigorously.
“I’d like to buy these vegetables,” Max said, ignoring the chatter around him. “Lend me your basket.” He grabbed the clove of garlic Hamelin had just returned to its hook, and handed over six purple marbles. The stall owner glared at him as he handed the basket back to Hamelin.
“Hmph!” he grumbled. “I’d curse ’em if I could care any less.”
“Thank you,” Hamelin said as they walked, handing Max the money to pay for the vegetables. He glanced back at the market, apparently unperturbed by the way people were treating him. “We really made him mad, huh? I know how to grow my own…We have an abundance in the forest. But when you know what people are saying about you, it doesn’t hurt to show your face and make them feel uncomfortable…You’re Raven’s friend, aren’t you? I’m always so busy at the house we’ve hardly been introduced at all. Hamelin Hatter.” He extended his free hand for Max to shake.
Max took it apprehensively, noting how cold it was. Just like Raven’s. “Er…Is Raven ok?” he asked uncertainly. “I haven’t been able to visit him-…Not because I don’t want to! I just…I’m not allowed.”
Hamelin chuckled, as though his son was merely suffering a cold. “Things have certainly been better. But we’ll get by. We always do.” Without elaborating further, he pulled a long, thin metal instrument from a pocket of his ragged old cloak, and began to play an enchanting tune. The sound was captivating. It seemed to drown everything else out, and as they walked, Max felt the very air around him spark with magic. He closed his eyes, unconcerned for where his feet would take him. He only needed to follow the music.
“Oh, hey Max!”
The music stopped, and Max opened his eyes in disappointment. He and Hamelin were at the edge of the forest, and he felt as though he had woken from a long nap. The rude awakening was not a welcome feeling. He turned to see Gilda standing behind him, Hickory, Dickory and Dock perched on her head, their noses twitching curiously in Hamelin’s direction.
“I’ll see you, then,” Hamelin said cheerfully with a wave of his hand. The instrument was gone. Max watched him vanish into the trees, catching a glimpse of Raven’s cat leaping down from a high branch and following after him. He turned back to Gilda with a forced smile.
“Oh…Hey,” he said awkwardly. She was everywhere at the moment. There was something off about the way she watched after Hamelin; her eyes narrowed, her body slightly tense.
“Who was that man?” she asked, a hint of fake curiosity in her voice. Her eyes were still focused on the swaying trees.
“Oh. That was Raven’s dad,” Max said, reluctantly following her as she turned to lead the way back up the rickety staircase of the island. “Don’t you remember? He was there that day we were at the gingerbread house…I guess we’ve never formally met him, though? Even though I’ve been friends with Raven for years-“
“I don’t like him,” Gilda interrupted shortly. “I think you should stay away from that guy.”
“Why?” Max asked, bewildered.
“I sensed he was using a spell, and it took me a little while to break it. I didn’t dare announce my presence until I was sure you were back to normal. It just seems…odd he would do that. Don’t you think?”
Now that Max thought about it, that did seem odd. But Raven’s whole family was odd. Hamelin had just been playing some nice music on his way home. He was entitled to it, after the way everyone had treated him. He told Gilda about the incident, but she still seemed suspicious. Even worse, s
he insisted on going home with him. There was no way he would get to sneak down the well this evening, now.
Chapter nine
Over the next couple of days, Gilda showed up at Max’s house before school, and returned home with him at the end of the day, unwittingly ensuring there was no way for him to get to the well. And all the while, Raven’s trial was drawing closer and closer. Max knew Gilda was just looking out for him, but if he didn’t find some way to ditch her soon, Raven would be hanged before he could expose Sam. It didn’t help that the disappearances had stopped.
By the beginning of December, the air was bitingly cold, and snow dusted the ground. Perhaps the first snowfall of the year had hindered Gilda’s descent down the already precarious steps, because that morning she didn’t show up. As Max made the hazardous, slippery journey to school, he couldn’t help feeling that an extra layer of cold had been added to the atmosphere. People he passed were whispering amongst themselves, grouped together in secretive huddles, all wrapped in thick winter cloaks. He kept an eye out for Gilda, certain she would come stalking out of one of the huddles at any moment. But she didn’t. She wasn’t waiting outside the school, either.
“Hey, Max.”
‘There she is,’ Max thought, almost rolling his eyes as he turned. But it wasn’t Gilda. It was Chariot. “…Hi,” Max said slowly, a frown creasing his face. “You’re talking to me, now?”
“I just wanted to apologize,” Chariot said, gripping her necklace awkwardly as she spoke. It was clear she wasn’t used to apologizing. The fireflies were resting inside the cage, apparently in protest of the cold.
“Apologize?” Max said, his frown deepening. “For what?”
“For what I said about Raven. For going to the wizards. And almost getting him killed,” Chariot said quietly, genuine shame in her voice. “But what an awful thing to do; framing your own son.”
“Huh?”
On the Other Side Page 6