The Attic

by Rachel Xu

  “What can we do?” asked Miriam.

  “Go lock the trunk—but be very careful.” He glared up at the mansion, his voice low and murderous. “Try not to be seen or heard by anyone or anything. Use the secret passageways and keep your tread as soft as silk. I must get back to Lily immediately now that Morack is free.”

  “Wait—don't leave us,” Hannah cut in, breathless, chest heaving. “We need your help to protect Ian. I can't lift him myself.”

  He shook his mane regretfully. “Would that I could. Ian's survival is up to you now, I've done all that I can. Ms. Kline is the priority.” With that he turned and galloped.

  Chapter 32

  Hannah wrung her hands, startling at every little sound. The mansion loomed high and dark behind her. Every shadow seemed to move. If Morack was on the loose in there, what on earth was he doing? Was he standing at one of the upper windows, peering down at them? She dared not return indoors.

  “Come, ladies,” she whispered, afraid to raise her voice now that the knightly unicorn had left. “If we get Ian out of the open and warmed up, his body will heal faster. We need to take him to his tree house, it's the only place I can think of.” She dared not think of what would happen if the tree was occupied when they got there. But by what? As yet, the only so-called creature she'd seen was the unicorn. Were there many more such things out and about, or were they all contained within the mansion? And as to who or what Morack was, she hadn't the first clue.

  “No,” Miriam said firmly. “We'd never make it there in one piece. The trail is probably heavily guarded by now by Morack's troops. I say we take the young man into the side forest over there and shelter him under our wings until the rain stops. Once I am assured of his health and safety, I will find a way to get to the trunk.”

  With quite and painstaking efforts, they dragged Ian into the neighboring forest, away from the backyard, and nowhere near the trail that led to his workshop.

  Hannah and the Orealas huddled in the cover of low tree branches just out of sight of the mansion, Ian laying between them. It was nearly dawn and the sky was beginning to lighten. Soon they'd be able to see again. Ian was as pale as ever but his chest was rising and falling steadily as he breathed.

  Hannah held his hand in her own and gave it a gentle squeeze, gasping when he squeezed it back.

  “Ian!”

  His eyes flickered open and focused on her face.

  “Where am I?” He winced.

  “In the forest on the west side of the mansion.”

  He groaned and struggled to sit up. She pressed down on his shoulders. “Don't move, you've been severely injured,” she said.

  “No kidding. I feel like I swallowed a grenade.” His voice was garbled but gaining strength. “What happened? How did I get here?”

  “We found you in the backyard, nearly dead, with a unicorn named Callamous. He said your brother did this to you.”

  Understanding lit his eyes. “My brother . . . yes, I remember now. I must get to him—”

  “Ian, I don't think you realize how badly wounded you are,” said the head Oreala. “You need to rest longer. If you're worried about the keys to the trunk, I already have them. I'm sorry to say, however, that Morack has been freed.”

  He groaned and closed his eyes, resting his head back on a pile of dead leaves. “I was too late. I have failed.”

  “It's okay, Ian,” Hannah soothed. “Callamous is going to take care of it.”

  “No. You need to go with the Orealas and get as far away from the mansion as you can. Now that it's dawn, you aren't safe hiding here anymore. They'll see you through the trees, if they haven't already.”

  “I'm not leaving you.”

  “For crying out loud, Hannah, why do you always have to be so stubborn?” He tried to sit up but was too weak.

  “You would do the same for me.”

  He let out a ragged exhale and rubbed his face.

  Miriam and the other two Orealas withdrew their overarching wings and folded them behind them. Miriam made moves to leave. “I must get to the trunk now,” she said gravely. “Moya,” she said to one of the Orealas, “you stay and take care of Hannah and pray I'll be successful in my mission.” She turned to the other: “Mae, come with me.”

  Lily glanced from the dog-man, the unicorn, and Mike, to the group of misfit gargoyles. A sudden affection filled her breast and temporarily eclipsed her grief; though it swelled back as quickly as it ebbed.

  Callamous had returned to the group to inform them that while Kurik was dead, Morack had already been released. They pressed him for details on Kurik's death and who had done it, and whether there was any sign of Ian, but he was evasive on all fronts. There was no time for her to reflect on this either, however, because soon after his arrival, a gargoyle ran up to them on all fours and spoke in hushed tones with Varkis.

  “Lily,” Varkis approached her. “One of our messengers has just returned with word from the mansion.”

  “Is it too much to hope that Morack has decided to surrender?” Her voice was tremulous, the chill from her damp clothes and bewildered heart threatening to take over. She didn't know how much longer she could continue.

  His amber eyes flashed. “I wish it were that simple. We've received a challenge from Morack. It is to be a fight to the death.”

  “Do you mean to tell me he's just sitting at the mansion waiting for us, twiddling his thumbs?”

  He nodded. “Yes. That about sums it up.”

  She willed her heart to be numb and lifted her chin. “What are our chances of winning?”

  “Next to nil. If any of us knew how to kill Morack, we would've done it long ago. It's up to you, I'm afraid. The best we can do is try to fight off his followers for you, so you'll have a chance to go straight for him.”

  She said nothing.

  “Just remember that Serena was your grandmother,” he went on, evidently trying to bolster her courage. “I know you never met her, but you must have some of her power. Neither Morack or his followers can practice their magic fully while you are here—they're hindered, weakened. That's huge. There must be some sort of power emanating from you.”

  “I don't feel any,” she said. “I've never been lucky in life and nothing strange has ever happened until I came to this mansion. I don't feel any different from anyone else.”

  “But how would you know? You've never lived in anyone else's shoes. You could feel completely different from them and never know it.”

  “I don't even have a weapon,” she added feebly.

  “If you had one, he'd just take it from you and use it on you.”

  “But what if I approach him and he just kills me on the spot. Then what?”

  “Then he'll take over the earth, just as he did Alvernia. This is our one chance to get him while his numbers on earth are still relatively low. Even by tomorrow, it will probably be hopeless. We must act now.”

  She sighed, shook her head. “It just feels hopeless. A suicide mission.”

  He said nothing but his eyes seemed to agree.

  “Well, let's get this over with,” she said in a monotone. “It's time for me to fight the most dangerous warlord ever known—without a single weapon or plan. Genius.”

  Chapter 33

  Miriam and Mae scanned the stone walkway between the shelter of the willow trees and the west side of the mansion, before taking ginger steps toward it.

  They reached the walk way and crossed it, glancing from side to side. Some birds flitted to and fro but there appeared to be no one around; at least, no one who was making their presence known. Miriam hoped against hope they wouldn't be spotted or followed.

  She tried the knob of the scullery door and finding it unlocked, cracked the door open two inches, peering inside. A cold, stagnant breeze wafted out and goosebumps rose on her skin. Seeing nothing but a shadowy kitchen, she stepped in and shut the door once Mae was in as well. Together, they passed through the room with feather steps and peeked out into the dining ro
om. Confident nothing of any great size could be hide under the great table without being plain as day, she went past it and straight for a life-size gilded painting next to the China cabinet.

  Something dark moved in her peripheral and she spun around, heart pounding. But it was only Mae's shadow. Mae raised an eyebrow but said nothing. With a deep breath, Miriam pushed on the bottom corner of the painting, moving aside as it swung open. They dipped inside and pulled the frame shut behind them, blinking at one another in the darkness.

  They then moved down the musty passageway, one in front of the other, palms outward and wings folded behind them. They turned right, went straight a distance; and stopped at what Miriam knew was the front entrance of the mansion.

  A thump and growl sounded on the other side of the wall, and for a second, a pin-stripe of light from a minuscule hole in the wall vanished as something moved in front of it. When the stripe returned, she put an eye to the hole.

  A gargoyle was rolling across the floor biting and clawing at a giant beetle that had jaws like a lamprey and was latched to his shoulder. She wished she could help the gargoyle, but couldn't risk drawing attention to herself.

  She watched a moment longer as he managed to break free and bolted down the corridor on all fours with the beetle chasing after him. Feeling for a wooden ladder, she climbed to the next level, which was the bedroom of the handyman, Mike. Mae followed closely behind.

  There was no way to access the attic except through Auguste's painting and they had no choice but to leave the passageway they were in and enter the hallway. After looking through a peephole and seeing no sign of life, the two Orealas stepped out from behind a tapestry and braced themselves for attack.

  Mae let out a gasp.

  Many of the paintings in the hall were shredded by claws and the wooden banisters were split and gnawed on as if by beavers. Trestle tables and potted plants were overturned, and blood and soil soaked the rug here and there, as well as clumps of fur. The hidden entrance to the attic was already open.

  Without further delay, they scooted toward it—just as a crash sounded from below.

  Stale air emanated from the dark opening. For all they knew, they'd be meeting their deaths on the winding staircase as some newly escaped beast descended, but it was the only possible way to reach the trunk.

  They hurried inside, darting glances behind them lest anything should be on its way up to the second floor, and Miriam pressed the button to slide the door shut behind them; gambling there'd be nothing hiding in the darkness surrounding them.

  The only sound in the stuffy room was their heavy breathing. Miriam took a deep breath to steady her nerves. If a creature was there behind the wooden stairs, surely they'd at least be able to smell it.

  Miriam moved forward to the first stair and stepped onto it lightly, wincing as it let out a creak. She stiffened but forced herself to ascend. Mae followed two steps behind. At the bend in the stairs a full step was missing, leaving a gaping hole in its splintered wake. If not for the checkered light from the lattice window above, Miriam would have fallen through.

  She reached the top and exhaled with relief to find the landing bare.

  But what if someone stood guard behind the attic door, or what if something was even now emerging from the trunk?

  They moved to the door on tiptoes and Miriam tried the handle.

  It opened slowly, stiffly, with a groan.

  The trunk lid lay wide open, a bright light shining forth and illuminating even the darkest corners of the long room.

  But other than storage, the room was empty.

  Warmth flooded her body but her back remained rigid. She didn't dare let down her guard. Mae stood guard by the door as Miriam went forward and leaned over the trunk.

  A mouth rimmed with hundreds of needle-like teeth snapped shut on air as she jerked backward.

  The creature tried to wiggle its way through the opening, snarling and slobbering, but its hairy shoulders were too wide.

  Miriam darted to the opposite wall, legs shaking and palms sweating as she gripped her skirt in her hands, wondering what to do. The beast thrashed back and forth, braying, and managed to pull its right forelimb through. It paused to stare at her with hungry yellow eyes and then resumed its task. The muscles in his arms bulged severely as he tossed his head back, and he pulled his left forelimb free. He let out a screech, struggling to free his other arm.

  Miriam broke free of her horrified stupor, motioned to Mae, whose eyes were wide with fright, and put her hands together in a steeple. She hummed softly and slowly pulled her hands apart, keeping her fingers connected at the tips. A ball of light formed in the cage of her fingers. In her peripheral, Mae was doing the same. It was a struggle to produce a sufficient ball of energy; spending so much time on earth had weakened her.

  The beast continued to screech and strain, his second arm nearly free.

  Sweat dripped down Miriam's brow and stung her eyes. Suppressing the overwhelming urge to run, she focused on the ball of energy, willing it to grow bigger and stronger.

  The beast pulled himself free with a sickening shlurp, and leaped into the attic. A chunk of skin flapped from each shoulder, blood oozing down his triceps.

  Miriam sung louder, heart pounding against her ribs, and the ball expanded to the size of a cantaloupe.

  Come on, come on, come on.

  The creature was a good five feet tall, four limbs planted on the ground firmly like a gorilla. The hind legs were underdeveloped while the forearms were corded with muscle. Its digits had talons and there was no neck. Two beady eyes glinted above reptilian nostrils.

  He grinned.

  Miriam pelted the half-formed energy ball at him.

  He darted to the side and the orb whizzed past, slamming into the wall behind the trunk with a loud explosion. Dust rained down on them from the rafters as the room shook from the impact. She sneezed.

  With a screech of triumph, the beast leaped into the air with its talons extended.

  Miriam turned to run but he rammed into her back and pinned her to the floor. She couldn't breathe. She tried to wriggle out from beneath but to no avail. The creature let out a guttural sound like a bullfrog and a searing pain shot through her wing as he embedded his teeth into her flesh, breaking the bones.

  Mae threw an orb of light at the beast and it jumped backwards off Miriam to avoid it. The orb whizzed passed and smashed through the lattice window, leaving a gaping hole in the wall, rising sunlight pouring through.

  Licking Miriam's blood from its lips, the beast rolled its beady eyes in Mae's direction, narrowing them. Miriam struggled to get up but the searing pain in her wing was like a dead weight. “Mae, run—” she cried. “Get out of here!”

  The monster clawed at the ground like a bull getting ready to charge and lunged toward Mae—wrapping her in a deadly embrace of powerful limbs, talons and teeth.

  Miriam pulled herself up frantically—desperate to save Mae. But the Oreala's cries had come to a sudden stop. The room was silent save for the hideous scraping of talons through flesh and the heavy breathing of the beast.

  “Get off her—” Miriam howled, leaping onto its back with no thought of her own safety.

  The creature bucked but she wrapped her arms and legs around its chest like a vice. As she dug her fingers into its hairy flesh, she realized the trunk keys were no longer in her hand. She shot a desperate glance around the room and spotted them ten feet away on the floor. The beast twisted and her fingers slipped. It scratched at her with its hind legs like a dog, digging its claws into her thigh. She let go and dropped back to the floorboards, scooting towards the keys in the split second it would take for the creature to turn around.

  She closed her fingers around the two keys and grabbed at the rim of the trunk. The beast roared in her peripheral as it turned around awkwardly; its body hunching over. He licked his lips, eyes gleaming.

  Miriam locked the inner door of the trunk, yanked down the lid, and f
umbled to put the second key in the lock. Her hands were trembling and slippery with sweat.

  She locked the outer lid as the beast plunged.

  He grabbed her leg in his teeth and jerked her to the ground like a plaything, shaking her back and forth. Black dots formed in her eyes and nausea swelled in her throat. The beast released her and she crashed into a wooden ladder, snapping the rungs.

  She couldn't move. The beast was looming above her now, drool dripping from his lower lip, talons outstretched.

  A magnificent flash of blue filled the shadowy room as a fully-formed ball of energy blasted into the side of the beast, blowing it to pieces.

  Chunks of roasting flesh splattered all over Miriam and she wiped the gore from her face, gasping for breath.

  She blinked.

  In the middle of the room stood a great male Oreala.

  Chapter 34

  Miriam was certain she must be dead or dreaming.

  The male Oreala was more handsome than any creature she'd ever seen. His skin was a shimmering silver and his wings were black and partly folded behind him.

  She'd never seen a real male oreala before and believed them extinct; especially after Morack's tyranny over Alvernia.

  “How bad are you hurt?” he asked with a strong timbre voice.

  She gawked up at him. “How . . . where . . . who—”

  “My name is Targolan. I arrived through the trunk last night.”

  She blinked twice. “You mean there are still Orealas alive in Alvernia?”

  “There are many survivors in hiding.”

  “But how-how did you know we were in trouble—?”

  “All of us that came through the trunk last night fled to the forest, for this mansion is overrun with ghouls. We found others out there who are planning to attack at any time now. Your friend Lily is among them—Serena's last heir, I'm told.” He paused. “From the fringe of the forest we saw a chunk of the attic wall get blown away. I'd been informed that an Oreala had been sent to lock the trunk and was probably in grave danger. Since I can fly and could get here quickest, I was sent to investigate.”