Beasthunter

by Katharina Gerlach

  “He says that he took a candle, a book, and a prayer to light the way. But that doesn't make sense, does it?”

  I forced my gaze away from Snoop. “I'll talk to Mr. Jake about it as soon as he's better.”

  “If he will be better.”

  “He will.” I clenched my fists. If he didn't get better, who'd protect me and Sally from the Beast? And what would happen to Snoop? No, he had to get better. I'd make him!

  The monk said something else but Sally didn't bother to translate. She pouted.

  “I'll be in my locket.” She vanished upstairs.

  Drat. Now I had no way to find out how the monk managed to escape the Beast. Worse than that, I had no idea how to keep him from leaving. At least this had turned out easier than I had thought. When he had finished eating, he walked around the living room and marveled at the things he saw. His hands glided over the fabric of the sofa, gently knocked on the window panes, and stroked the softness of the carpet. Then he stopped in front of a rack of CDs and spoke to me. He pointed to one of the CDs and beckoned me to come. All the while, he spoke his weird language, as if he wanted me to explain. I walked over and looked at the CD too. It had a monk on the cover. So that's why he was so excited.

  “It's music.” I picked up the CD. The title said Gregorian Chants.

  He cocked his head. “Mu-sic,” he echoed.

  “I'll show you.” I switched on the CD-player, inserted the CD and turned it on. Solemn male voices filled the room. There were no instruments, and the harmonies didn't always sound right. I didn't like it much, but the monk's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. He looked around as if he expected the singers to appear in the room with him. When no one showed up, he sank down on the sofa, closed his eyes, and hummed along. I had to restart the CD three times.

  During the last song of the third run, Mr. Jake came down the stairs. He smiled when he saw the rapt attention on the monk's face.

  “I should have known he'd like this kind of music.”

  “Sally understands him,” I said.

  Mr. Jake nodded. “I'm not surprised. As long as most of Sally is inside the Beast, she can understand any language. It happened with other ghosts too. I wonder why the monk doesn't understand us, though.”

  “I don't think he's a ghost; he seems quite real. He's even eaten.”

  Mr. Jake's eyebrows shot up. “He ate?”

  I pointed to the table where the remains of the monk's lunch still stood. Mr. Jake patted the monk's shoulders, got up, and began to clear the table.

  “You're right. He is real.” Mr. Jake scratched his head. “But how did we get him completely out of the Beast?”

  I pondered the question. We had used the monk's journal to put him together, and Snoop had added one last sheet of paper.

  “What if he was somehow connected to his journal?” I asked. “He said something about a book, a prayer, and a candle when he spoke to Sally.”

  Mr. Jake turned to me. “He's a monk. He might have taken the Bible.”

  The monk looked at Mr. Jake and said something. Mr. Jake frowned and answered, and the monk repeated his words more slowly.

  “He said he took the journal, and that he's glad we found it and pulled him out of the Beast.” A smile spread over Mr. Jake's face. “I think we've got it now. The journal contains most of his memories, and memories are the key.” He grabbed my shoulders. His eyes sparkled and there was hope in his gaze. “You'll have to write down everything you remember about Sally, and I will do the same for my daughter. Maybe we can get them back out of the Beast too.”

  Could that be true? Would something written make Sally more real? My heart thudded so loud the blood roared in my ears. What if he was right? Would Mamá and Dad remember Sally? All of a sudden, my fingers itched to write.

  “You can use the room upstairs, and I'll write at the living room table,” Mr. Jake said.

  I had already turned to the stairs when my gaze fell on the monk. “What about him?”

  “I will give him some books, and he can learn our language. That shouldn't be too difficult for a scholar like him.”

  Relieved, I ran up the stairs into the room I had slept in. Mr. Jake followed and placed a bunch of papers on the table.

  As I took the pen, Sally came out of her medallion and hovered beside me.

  “Where shall I start?” I looked up at Mr. Jake.

  “The day I arrived would be a good place, don't you think?” Mr. Jake patted my shoulder. “Write down everything you remember.”

  I nodded, set the pen onto the paper, and wrote, It was a dark and stormy night.

  Outside, the Beast began to howl like an abandoned wolf—for me, it was a good sign.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tom: Here and Now

  When Tom set the pen aside, it seemed as if kids had been coming for sweets forever. He gazed at the pile of paper stacked in front of him. Wow, this is more than I thought. He stretched, glad that this task was finally over. Time to talk to Mr. Jake.

  He stood up, picked up his manuscript and Sally's locket, and walked downstairs.

  Mr. Jake just closed the wooden box with his old-fashioned fountain pen. He looked up and smiled at Tom. “I'm done, how about you?”

  Tom put his manuscript beside Mr. Jake's. “Sally says that there are ghosts in Snoop's fur. Is that true?”

  Mr. Jake shrugged. “Sort of. They are not really ghosts.”

  Tom sat on the table and looked at Mr. Jake. “What are they then?”

  “I've been the Beast Hunter for many years now, Tom. There were many people–mothers, fathers, siblings–that kept remembering the Beast's victims. I couldn't just leave them without hope. So I turned them into flea-sized beings, feeding some of their reality into Snoop.”

  Tom sucked in his lower lip. “You mean Snoop stole a part of those people? Is he like the Beast?”

  Mr. Jake shook his head vehemently. “Snoop doesn't keep them prisoner. He takes care of them until he kills the Beast. He's the only one who can.”

  Something was wrong with this reasoning. “But that won't bring the kids back, will it?”

  “It is a form of revenge.”

  “But the flea people will still be ghosts then, won't they?”

  “I'm sure Snoop won't keep them.”

  Something nagged at the back of Tom's mind. He was sure Mr. Jake had overlooked something. His gaze fell on the two manuscripts lying side by side on the table.

  “If only we had told the flea people to write down their memories too. If their kids are still alive, like the monk, the Beast would get weaker the more kids we can save.”

  “Tom, you're an absolute genius.” Mr. Jake called Snoop, and slammed his right hand on the manuscripts. “I made the others write down their stories before Snoop and I changed them. I thought it would help them remember the good times once we avenged our loved ones.”

  The dog came running, and the monk, too, came from the kitchen area with a towel in his hand and said, “You miss important.”

  It was the first time he spoke English, and it startled Tom. But he got used to the monk's clipped way of speaking fast. “You need personal thing. Journal no good other way.”

  “What personal thing did you take?” I asked.

  “Made book alone. All book.”

  Wow, I had never heard of anyone making books. I looked at the monk with new eyes.

  “Something personal, eh?” Mr. Jake gazed out the window where the sun was slowly nearing its setting point. The Beast's howl cut through the evening. Tom shuddered, glad that Mr. Jake's protections kept it out. A light hand stroked his cheek.

  “I'm with you, Tom.” Sally whispered in his ear. “I'll always be with you.”

  If only that were true, Tom thought.

  Mr. Jake turned to Tom. “You could use some of Sally's hair from the locket, and I still have the ragdoll. Those should be personal enough.”

  “What about the flea people? Did they take something personal when you turned
them into fleas?” Tom held his breath. If they had, they could weaken the Beast a lot and help free Sally.

  “Some might.”

  The monk shook his head. “No time for search. Today All Hallows' Eve.”

  “You are right. We can't wait for them to find stuff but we can use whatever they have.” Mr. Jake stood up. “And we can still ask them to help us fight the Beast. After all, they want their loved ones back just as much as we do. And if they are alive in there, somewhere…” He turned to Snoop.

  Panting, the dog listened as Mr. Jake explained. Tom took the crayons from the mantle and began to draw a five-pointed star. He was sure it would be needed, and he was right. When Mr. Jake was done, Snoop went to the center of the pentagram without hesitation.

  “Draw a circle right there.” Mr. Jake pointed to a spot not far from Snoop, and placed five blood-red candles around the star. Then he went upstairs and fetched a cardboard box full with twenty odd leather-bound diaries. After he had put them side by side on the table, he stood in Tom's circle. He lifted his arms and sang. It sounded a lot like the CD Tom had played for the monk.

  A ghostly figure rose from Snoop's back, a freckled boy slightly older than Tom. For a while he hovered there, gaining color with every word Mr. Jake chanted. Tom stared at the boy's satin breeches that hung above Snoop like cobwebs filled with semi-transparent sticks. For the first time since they started this spell, Tom felt uneasy. What if something went wrong?

  A tall woman, a fat man, and an old black lady joined the boy. More and more people hovered above the dog. Snoop glanced at Tom. His eyes burned red like those of the Beast. Tom retreated to the stairs.

  Mr. Jake called, “Esquire James d'Escoin!” The boy with the satin breeches sank to the ground outside the pentagram and landed with a thud.

  “Finally,” he whispered and laid his hand on the hilt of a rapier.

  Tom stared at the ghosts. There were so many of them. If they all became real people, they'd fill the whole living room.

  Mr. Jake called another name and another one, and with each call, one of the ghostly figures became solid.

  And with each call, Snoop changed too. His teeth became pointier and flames licked around his glowing red eyes. Also, he grew bigger and less dog-like.

  What if Snoop turned into another Beast? Tom's hands grew cold.

  “Don't worry,” Sally said and put an insubstantial arm around Tom's shoulders. “He always looked like this underneath his dog disguise. He's still our Snoop.”

  “You saw him like this?” Tom looked at her, and she nodded. He sighed. If Sally had known that Snoop looked like a monster and still liked him, everything was okay.

  By the time he returned his attention to the living room again, all the people had solidified. Still, Tom heard nothing but their breathing. He shivered. The last time he had seen so many silent people in one place was at his granddad's funeral.

  Snoop had changed into something like a cross between a wild boar and a dog with a saber-toothed tiger's muzzle and a falcon's claws. They left scratches on the ground as he left the pentagram.

  Mr. Jake patted his head that reached his hip now and spoke to the crowd. “Welcome back, dear friends. Tonight, we will do what has to be done.”

  A murmur went through the crowd, an old woman tightened her grip on her umbrella, and several boys shouted their approval.

  “We are at our most powerful because it's All Hallows' Eve.” He pointed to the monk, who lowered his gaze and blushed. “Brother Martin made us aware of a weapon we've always had: our memories. All the other people who knew our beloved children forgot about them, but our memories are still bright. Now it's time to use these memories. Tonight, we will get our children back, or we'll perish in the attempt. It's time to face the Beast.”

  “About time,” a man said.

  “We'll kill it and hang its hide for all to see,” a boy added. The people murmured their agreement. It sounded like the rolling of the ocean to Tom.

  As they filed out of the house with Mr. Jake and Snoop at the head, he tried to force his legs to walk. He didn't want to fight. Thinking of the Beast made the hair on his arms stand up. But he wanted Sally back. Would he be strong enough to do it?

  “I'll help you,” Sally said.

  Tom knew she would, but it was something he couldn't allow. She only had the one memory left. He took a deep breath. “Hide in your hair,” he said.

  With a snap and an angry shout, she shot back into the locket. Tom kissed it and put it on top of his manuscript.

  “I will be brave. For you, Sally,” he whispered, and turned to go.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tom: Here and Now

  Mr. Jake waited for Tom while the others filed out to both sides and stood in a long row along the hedge. No one spoke.

  Mr. Jake put his hand on Tom's shoulder and crouched until their eyes were level. “I want you to stay behind, Tom.”

  Tom couldn't protest, not when he felt as if a heavy load had been lifted from his shoulders.

  “I know you want to save your sister, but as long as we are not certain that our plan works, we need someone who will know what happened. If we fail, you must be the next Beast Hunter, and Snoop will be your dog.”

  Tom fought the tears. “But I don't know what to do. How will I be able to put up wards like you?”

  “Snoop can talk to his master. When you're the Beast Hunter, he'll teach you. Promise me that you will take the job.”

  Tom's throat was too tight to answer, so he simply nodded. He wouldn't be half as good as Mr. Jake.

  Mr. Jake stood up and turned to watch the others taking up their place along the hedge. He left his hand on Tom's shoulder. For a while, they stood in the doorway side by side without a word. Finally, Mr. Jake sighed.

  “I guess it's time now.” He turned and clicked his fingers.

  With a deep growl, Snoop sprang through the gate and was gone in a flash. Waiting for his return tore at Tom's nerves. When the ex-dog came back, he dragged the Beast along. With its moldy skin, green pustules, and shark's smile, it looked even more hideous than Snoop, and it was at least twice his size. Mr. Jake stepped out of the protected zone around his house, and the others followed his example, pushing though the hedge.

  They rushed the Beast, and Tom had to cover his ears to keep out their battle cry. He squeezed his eyes shut but couldn't help peeking. An elderly lady attacked the Beast with her umbrella, the boy who had left Snoop first scratched and bit, others threw stones or punched. Snoop was busy keeping the Beast from snapping. Mr. Jake pressed his hand against the Beast's hide, and a thin stream of smoke curled upward. The Beast screamed with pain and rage.

  “Yes!” Tom clenched his fists and teetered on his toes. Should he join the fight after all? It seemed as if the Beast was losing.

  Mr. Jake produced another burn on the Beast's hide, and the resulting roar made Tom's ears ring. The Beast whipped round and sank its teeth into Mr. Jake's hand. Tom saw his mouth open but couldn't hear his scream for the noise in his ears. He took a step forward. He had to rescue Mr. Jake. At that moment, Snoop attacked the Beast, and it let go of the hand. Mr. Jake cradled his arm, and Tom stepped forward again.

  The monk called to him. “Mr. Jake not defeat. You wait.”

  Reluctantly Tom stepped back, and the monk returned to the battle, singing prayers in Latin and Greek. Mr. Jake pulled a pile of small black pebbles from his pocket and began throwing them at the Beast one by one. Each pebble singed the hide, drawing screams from the Beast. It turned faster and faster to snap at the attackers, but Snoop threw himself between the Beast and the fighters. Tom bit his fingernails and found it increasingly difficult to watch. How much longer would it take to defeat it?

  He bent forward. What was that? The Beast was losing substance. Its hind legs had already turned to fog. Was that the end? Tom wriggled and tried to get a better view, but he made sure that he didn't step past the protective ward around the house. More and more of the Beast t
urned to fog. Soon the fighters danced around a rotating column of grayness. Tom didn't even realize he was holding his breath until the column came crashing down. The fighters vanished in the fog, and only Mr. Jake was still visible. Tom saw flashes jump from his hands into the fog, and Snoop danced around his feet. The fog drew inward, gathering into a tight ball, but where Tom had expected to see the others, there was no one but Mr. Jake.

  Tom couldn't believe his eyes. Hadn't Mr. Jake turned the Beast into fog? It had seemed so, but what if the Beast had tricked him? Where were the other fighters? He looked around. Maybe they were behind the Beast—but no, nothing there either. All that remained of the fighting force were Mr. Jake and Snoop. Impossible! Tom felt his throat constrict. With so many people fighting together, they should have won. Was the Beast invincible? Would he never get Sally back? He tried to call Mr. Jake but his voice refused to work.

  The fog shot forward and enveloped Mr. Jake. He fell screaming but never hit the ground. Gone, like the others. Snoop howled and snapped at the Beast several times. Then he too vanished in the fog.

  Tom's legs wobbled and he put a hand on the garden gate to steady himself. What would he do without Mr. Jake, without Snoop? He was just a boy. He felt as queasy as the day the school bully had dunked his head into the toilet. But this time there was no Sally to come to his rescue.

  “Sally! Mr. Jake! I want you back.” He hugged himself.

  Sally shot past him like a hurricane. Tom's reaction was equally fast. His fingers shout out to grab her but went through her without resistance.

  “Sally, no!” But she didn't listen.

  She threw herself on the Beast and pummeled it with her fists.

  “Sally, don't.” Tom ran after her.

  “Leave my brother alone!” She screamed her rage into the air.

  The locket! He had to get her back into the locket. “Hide in your hair,” he shouted and noticed with relief that her legs elongated. The Beast roared so loud, it drowned Sally's angry shout as the locket's magic dragged her back. Before her elongated legs reached the garden gate, the Beast pounced and sucked her up with a slurping sound.