13 Secrets

by Michelle Harrison

  “A flashlight. I thought it’d be useful in the safe room, just in case,” she lied.

  He nodded and turned back to what he was doing. Eventually she found a flashlight, and after changing the batteries, she headed for the stairs. She was halfway there when a window smashed somewhere on the first floor.

  She ran to the top, reaching the landing at the same instant as Tanya came out of her room, the compass and scissors in her hand, her eyes wild.

  They both saw the garvern at the same time. It clung to the windowsill in the hall that overlooked the back garden. Fragments of glass glittered on the floor underneath the window, and the creature hissed at them, swiping through the window with its fist, but unable to cross the salt barrier.

  “It’s starting,” Rowan whispered. “They’re going to try and get in.” She dug the keys out of her pocket and thrust them, and the bottle Warwick had given her, at Tanya. “Give this to Fabian, and put the keys back where we found them. In a few minutes come down to the library and take the key out of the door. Hide it.” She tucked the piece of paper into Tanya’s pocket. “Once you’ve done that, get this to Morag and do not let anyone else see, especially Suki.”

  “Rowan, you’re scaring me. What’s this all about—where are you going?”

  “You have to trust me. Whatever Morag tells you, take her to Tino and make her tell him.” She pulled Tanya into her room and collected her bag from under the bed. She stuffed the flashlight in it and checked that her knife and the coat were there. “Suki lied about the hex. Whatever you do, don’t trust her. Sparrow and I are using the tunnel to get out. Having us all in one place may make it easier to defend ourselves, but it makes us easier to attack too. If Sparrow and I can get out we might be able to surprise them and get the upper hand somehow.”

  Another window smashed from further away.

  “To the safe room, now!” Warwick yelled.

  Rowan slung her backpack over her shoulder. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Wait.” Tanya pushed the scissors at her. “If you’re going outside, take these.”

  “No. You keep them.”

  “But it’s dangerous out there—”

  “It’s dangerous in here too.” She pulled Tanya out of her room and gave her a gentle push. “Stay safe.”

  The grandfather clock began to chime as she hurtled down the stairs. Crooks passed her on the way up, a knife clenched in his hand.

  “Come with me,” he shouted. “You’re meant to be in the safe room.”

  “Be there in a minute,” she called, not looking back. “There’s just something I need to do….”

  Shouts came from the kitchen. Warwick and the Coven members were taking up their positions, calling instructions to one another. Her heart thumping, she jammed the key into the library door and unlocked it, and then closed it, leaving the key for Tanya.

  She kept glancing at the unlocked door as she waited for the tunnel entrance to open. It seemed to be moving in slow motion.

  “Come on, come on,” she told it desperately.

  Finally it was open wide enough for her to slide through into the stone passageway. Sparrow turned his face away from the sudden brightness of the library.

  “I’ve got a flashlight.” She fumbled in the backpack and pulled it out.

  “Here,” said Sparrow. “I’ll take it.”

  She peered around the edge of the wall partition. “Should we wait until it closes again?”

  “What for?”

  “To make sure we’re not being followed.”

  He shook his head and clicked on the flashlight. “Let’s just get going. It’ll be closed within a minute anyway.”

  “Wait.” She darted back into the library and plucked the book of matches from the pile of Sparrow’s belongings, still on the carpet from before. Kneeling in the cramped space, she wedged the matches discreetly into the bottom of the door jamb. “In case we need to come back again—it should stop the catch from closing completely, but won’t be obvious from inside the library.”

  Sparrow started down the narrow staircase, the flashlight flickering ahead. Rowan went after him, placing her feet cautiously. The steps were slightly slippery, damp with a film of moisture and green mold.

  “I’d forgotten how bad it stinks down here,” she said. Her voice bounced off the walls. The temperature plummeted as they went deeper underground, and she shivered.

  “Put on the fox-skin if you’re cold.”

  “No.” She slid a little as they reached the bottom of the stairwell. “My senses are magnified when I wear it—the smell will be even more unbearable than it is now.”

  Sparrow played the flashlight over the stone walls. Like the floor, they were largely covered in green mold. Four tunnels lay ahead, each twisting away from the next.

  She pointed. “There’s the string leading out.”

  He headed toward the first tunnel swiftly.

  “Slow down,” she said, holding on to his sleeve. “I can’t see too well with the flashlight in front of you.”

  “Sorry.” He slowed a fraction as they neared the tunnel, allowing her to catch up. “I just want to get out of here. I can’t stand confined spaces like this.”

  She pointed at the pebble to which the string was attached.

  “Do you think we should take that with us?”

  “What for?”

  “In case someone follows.”

  “But then how will we get back if we need to?”

  “Good point.” As they neared the center of the cavern, a waft of air washed over her, and with it, a sudden flash of fear. She shook herself and carried on, but Sparrow paused, watching her.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I just… I don’t know.”

  “Come on,” said Sparrow. “Let’s keep moving.”

  They continued on through the tunnel, the flashlight trained on the damp, dirty trail of string. On and on it led them, through the dank, winding darkness. The air became crisper and cleaner when they came into a little open cavern, passing the iron bedstead and tiny table and chair where Rowan had been staying with the changeling when Tanya had first discovered her. From there the tunnel narrowed and grew musty once more, pressing in on them.

  “Not too far now, surely?” Sparrow asked.

  “I don’t think so. I’m not sure how long we’ve been down here—it feels like hours.”

  Onward they trawled, twisting through the underground labyrinth.

  “I can see steps,” said Sparrow a while later. “They’re leading up.”

  “That’s it,” Rowan breathed in relief. “That’s the way out, through the fake grave.”

  They climbed the steps, careful not to lose their footing, and paused beneath the stone slab.

  “I’ll need you to help me shift it,” Sparrow said, positioning himself at the top end of the steps. He put the flashlight on the ground with its beam pointing up and placed his left hand above his head against the slab. His other hand was deep in his pocket.

  “What’s the matter with your hand?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You hurt it, didn’t you?” she guessed. “When Tino pushed you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why didn’t you say?”

  “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  She steadied herself and put her hands in place. “On the count of three, lift and slide to the right. Ready? One, two, three!”

  The slab slid across with a grating noise of stone on stone that set Rowan’s teeth on edge. Afternoon light and fresh air carrying the scent of grass and the woods rushed into the tunnel. “Just a bit more….” she panted. “There.” She clambered up a few more steps and then hauled herself out into the graveyard, reaching down to grab Sparrow’s hand. He rolled out onto the grass, a film of sweat glistening on his face. His skin looked waxy and pale. He switched off the flashlight and pocketed it, then grabbed her hand.

  “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”
r />   “Let’s move across to the woods—we can see the house better from there.”

  Rowan glanced toward the manor. It looked like a dollhouse in the distance. “We can see it from here.”

  “But we’re on open land,” said Sparrow. “We’d be better concealed in the woods—the garvern might catch a glimpse of us.”

  She allowed him to pull her onward and out of the churchyard, taking quick, fearful glances over her shoulder. Gray clouds roiled above, blotting out the sun. From where they were, she could not make out any figures or movement from the house. They were too far away now.

  “Slow down,” she gasped, stumbling as he tugged her toward the brook, but he did not seem to hear. They reached the stepping stones. Water rushed past her feet as she navigated the way across, and she cast another wary look behind her, half expecting to see a swooping garvern heading for them—

  And suddenly she stopped, stock-still, balancing on one of the stones halfway across. The standstill jerked Sparrow to a halt, and he spun round to face her.

  “Why are you stopping? Keep going, quickly.”

  “How did you know about the garvern?” she asked, her voice tight.

  “What? You told me. Now come on—”

  “No, I didn’t.” She stared at him, her heart racing. “I said the house was being watched. I never mentioned the word ‘garvern.’ ”

  The grip on her hand tightened and began to pull, harder.

  “Ouch! You’re hurting me! Sparrow!”

  His fingers had turned white from grasping her so hard.

  It was then that she caught sight of his fingernails, pale and clean. She surged back in shock, sliding off the stepping stone—but still he held on. Freezing water soaked her ankles. Then she was down on her knees, spiteful pebbles on the riverbed scraping her as she was dragged through the water and onto the other side of the bank.

  A dry sob forced its way up her throat as she thrashed and flailed through mud and grass, her arm screaming with the brunt of her weight. By the time she had twisted herself around she already knew what—or rather, who—she was going to see.

  Eldritch grinned back at her with a chipped front tooth. Even as she watched, it grew, becoming whole again.

  Rowan began to scream.

  Tanya banged on Fabian’s door, ignoring Crooks’s calls to head for the safe room.

  “Fabian? It’s me. Open up.”

  She heard raised voices on the floor below and the sounds of people scattering, changing position. Oberon whined at her side. She thumped the door again. “Fabian, I know you don’t want to speak to any of us at the moment, but you have to. Open the door—I’ve got eye drops. You’ll need them.”

  The door opened a crack and Fabian glared out.

  “I’ve already got some,” he said coldly. “Swiped them off the kitchen table earlier.” He reached out and took the bottle out of her hands. “Still, won’t hurt to have extra.” He pushed the bottle into an inside pocket of his jacket and came out onto the landing. Oberon stuck his nose into Fabian’s hand, but found his greeting ignored.

  “Why have you got your jacket on?” she asked. She reached for his arm but he shrugged away from her.

  “I’m not staying here, waiting to be attacked.”

  “Then where are you going?”

  “I’m leaving. I’m going to find out who killed my mother, and I’m going to get them.”

  He ran for the stairs, but Tanya would not be shaken off. She followed him, her words jolting with each step down. The grandfather clock chimed in her ears. “If you go out there, you’ll be the one getting killed. The house is surrounded. Just calm down and speak to Warwick—”

  “Warwick’s had eight years to talk to me, to tell me the truth,” Fabian spat. “He chose not to.”

  “What are you going to do?” Tanya hissed. “You’re crazy if you think anyone will just let you walk out of the house—”

  “They won’t see me. I’ll use the tunnel. It comes out far away enough to give me a head start.”

  Florence’s voice drew them to a halt as they reached the middle of the stairs, and Tanya’s knees buckled as Oberon collided with her legs.

  “Tanya! And Fabian—what are you two doing? Get up here this instant! And where’s Rowan?”

  “We’re just going to get her and bring her upstairs,” Tanya babbled, turning. Her grandmother was leaning over the banister. “We’re coming straight back.”

  “Well, hurry!” Florence flinched as another window shattered. She spun around furiously as a garvern reached through an unprotected window, its claws shredding the curtains. Tanya started back up the stairs, afraid for her grandmother, but before she could take two steps Florence had grabbed a nearby water spray on the sill and fired it into the garvern’s snarling face. “This is my house!” she shrieked, her finger working the nozzle with every word. “And you have overstayed your welcome!”

  The garvern screamed, its skin bubbling and blistering as the salt water came into contact with it, but it still managed to cling on, hissing in fury. Footsteps charged across the landing. It was Rose, her hair streaming behind her like a red flag and a broom in her hands. She whacked the bristle end into the creature’s face, and it toppled with a scream away from the window.

  Fabian edged away from the stairs and went in the direction of the library. Tanya ran after him, no longer concerned for her grandmother. It was clear Florence could look after herself.

  The key was in the door, as Rowan had left it. Fabian got there first, turning the doorknob and pushing his way into the library.

  “Fabian, just hang on a minute,” she began. She retrieved the key and pushed the library door, but before it was quite closed, the sounds of a skirmish came from the hallway.

  Quickly she repositioned herself at the door opening, peering through the crack. Another garvern had shattered a window, downstairs this time, although a layer of salt on the ledge stopped it from entering. A vase balanced on the sill had smashed on the tiled floor below it. As she watched, Victor came racing from the direction of the kitchen, knives drawn, yelling for backup.

  A knife whizzed past the library door and embedded itself in the garvern’s shoulder. A spray of blood hit the wall, and the creature’s howl filled the passage. Victor flew toward it, sending a second knife curving through the air.

  Light footsteps hurried after him. Tanya saw Suki running down the hall, checking behind her.

  “It’s all right,” Victor told her as she neared his side. “It’s dead.”

  “What’s going on?” Fabian whispered from behind her.

  “Nothing. It’s under control,” Tanya told him. She was about to close the door when an unexpected movement made her freeze and grip the doorframe.

  Suki had lunged for Victor’s sword, drawing it from its sheath at his side. Victor barely had time to react before Suki expertly plunged the sword into the center of his chest.

  “No—” Tanya grasped at Fabian as Victor sank to his knees, his hands floundering uselessly at his own blade, staring down at it, and then at Suki, in disbelief.

  With a satisfied smile, Suki retracted the blade and stood over him, her eyes darting toward the kitchen. Victor’s mouth opened and closed like that of a puppet, bubbling with blood. His limbs twitched uselessly at his sides, then stopped moving altogether.

  Quietly, Suki lowered the bloody sword to the floor and let it rest beside him. Then her shoulders stiffened, and her head tilted to one side. Slowly, deliberately, she turned to face the library.

  “Get back!” Tanya hissed, pushing a terrified Fabian away from the door. “She knows… she’s coming!” She jabbed the key, slick with sweat, into the lock and turned it, then raced toward the bookcase, fumbling with the indents that worked the mechanism for the secret door. For the first time, it would not open.

  “It must be jammed!” she said, frantic.

  The handle to the library door turned. The door rattled.

  “Quickly,” Fabian moaned, his
blue eyes glassy with shock. Tanya tried again, pressing her fingers into the indents, but still nothing happened.

  The key flew out of the lock as something was inserted on the other side. Fabian pressed himself into the bookcase as Tanya grappled with the wooden panel yet again. The lock clicked, and the library door swung open.

  Suki entered the room and closed the door quietly behind her, a hair pin in one hand and one of Victor’s knives in the other.

  “DAD!” Fabian yelled. “DAD—”

  Suki crossed the room, the blade flashing in her hand. “Shut up and don’t be stupid. I’m not afraid to use this, as you well know.”

  Fabian hushed immediately, his eyes squeezed shut.

  Tanya’s gaze fell upon a tattered red book on a nearby shelf. She seized it, scrabbling through the pages.

  Suki’s eyes danced with amusement. “One Hundred and One Perfect Puff Pastry Recipes? Is that supposed to save you?”

  “It’s not what it seems.” Tanya found what she was looking for within its pages: a small green leaf, a black feather, and a long brown whisker. “I’m calling upon my guardian, and my grandmother’s.”

  “Go ahead,” said Suki, shrugging. “Even if they make it in time, they’ll have a tough job getting into the house.”

  Tanya moved to the fireplace, fumbling the items with a wary eye on Suki. She pulled three strands of hair from her head and then threw everything into the flames with the words: “By the powers that be, I call thee to me.”

  Suki watched in silence, then took a step toward them. Oberon went rigid, his hackles rising.

  Suki’s green eyes rested on the dog. She raised the knife.

  “I didn’t want you two involved in this,” she said, almost apologetically. “But now you are, and so you have to be dealt with.”

  “Please don’t do this… don’t kill us,” Fabian stammered.

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary just yet,” Suki said.

  “Why are you doing this?” Tanya asked, her hand on Oberon’s collar. He was panting and gasping, and it was taking all her strength to keep him under control. “Why are you attacking the Coven?”

  “No questions.” Suki jerked her head to the bookcase. “Into the tunnel. Now.”