The Bonehill Curse

by Jon Mayhew

  Above the fireplace, a ragged standard hung from the chimney breast, with guns crossed over a leering demon’s face and fiery gold letters that declared, Fourth Hinderton Rifles: Satan, Do Your Worst. Ness often puzzled over this flag but all Morris would ever say was, ‘Hindertons, my old regiment. Unique, we were.’ And he would stiffen to attention for a second.

  ‘So, Nick, what brings you here on such a dark night?’ Morris said, planting himself on a stool and leaning forward to stare at Ness.

  ‘I can’t bear it at the Academy any longer,’ Ness sighed, leaning on the table. ‘Why did my parents send me here? Do they really care about me so little?’

  Morris’s eyes twinkled in the firelight. ‘Sometimes parents have to make hard choices,’ he whispered hoarsely.

  ‘Hard choices? Such as keeping me in a dump like this?’ Ness muttered.

  ‘Sit tight,’ Morris said. ‘You’re safe here. They won’t get you here.’ But he leaned closer towards her, a haunted look in his eye. ‘They lurk in every shadow of the empire.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’ Ness said, her voice faint.

  Morris stared at her blankly for a second, then shook himself and glanced out of the window. ‘Toop’s out there looking for you,’ he murmured.

  Ness peered out into the darkness. A faint glimmer of a storm lantern flickered between the branches.

  ‘How d’you know it’s Toop?’ Ness said, blinking to see the faint light.

  ‘The man has a limp,’ Morris said, winking. ‘The lamp swings awkwardly. Besides, Miss Pinchett wouldn’t come out in the dark looking for you.’

  ‘I’d better go,’ Ness said.

  ‘Keep your wits about you,’ Morris said, opening the door.

  ‘I can get past Toop.’ Ness grinned.

  ‘It’s not Toop I’m worried about,’ Morris called after her as she plunged into the darkness.

  With wishing comes grieving.

  Traditional proverb

  Chapter Three

  An Unwelcome Visitor

  A sliver of bright moonlight illuminated the slumbering shapes in the dormitory as Ness crept back in. She could make out Hannah’s face, serene, secure in the knowledge that she was loved and would soon be going home. The heaviness in Ness’s heart returned. Her trembling hands rattled the iron bedhead as she grabbed it to steady herself after her headlong flight through the woods. Her heart pounded. As she had predicted, Toop had been easy to evade, but Morris’s parting words had unsettled her.

  The bottle still lay on Ness’s bed, and she slid it out from the rough sack. It felt solid and icy cold. She couldn’t tell whether it was made of thick glass or metal but even in the half-light, Ness could make out the dancing figures that decorated the main body of the bottle – hideous heads with horns and leering faces. She shuddered.

  Are they a warning? She traced a finger along the neck of the bottle, which ended in a snarling dragon’s head, jaws wide, the stopper clamped between its teeth.

  ‘I can’t decide if you’re horrible or beautiful,’ she whispered.

  Why would Uncle Carlos send her something like this and tell her never to open it? Ness shook the bottle. No liquid swirled within; nothing rattled. As far as she could tell, it was empty. She sighed, placing it on her pillow, then undressed, wriggling into her thick nightdress. It must be one of Uncle Carlos’s jokes. Ness always remembered him laughing, usually in the hallway at home when she was young. Her parents never laughed though. She’d never thought of that before. She could remember Uncle Carlos smiling up at her as she peered through the banister rails, with Father scowling at him.

  ‘Your father doesn’t appreciate my sense of humour, my little Necessity,’ he had called up once. ‘He knows that I will always have the last laugh.’

  Ness had grinned back, not knowing what he meant. He was just teasing Father, she supposed.

  She held the bottle up in front of her. She gave the stopper half a twist and flinched. With a nervous laugh, she dropped the bottle in her lap. This is ridiculous. What did I expect would happen?

  The dormitory door clicked open and Miss Pinchett peered into the shadows of the room on her nightly patrol. Stuffing the bottle under her pillow, Ness rolled over, eyes squeezed shut. I’ll open it tomorrow, she thought, as the door closed and drowsiness overcame her.

  The events of the day swirled around her mind and spilled into dreams. Ness was a small child again, dancing, twirling, holding tightly on to her mother’s neck. She could see her mother’s blonde hair, smell her perfume as they waltzed across the room.

  ‘One day you’ll meet a handsome prince.’ Mother smiled. Her blue eyes sparkled with love and affection.

  ‘Like how you met Father?’ Ness asked, but she couldn’t hear her mother’s answer.

  The dream shifted. Mother sat tearfully at the end of her bed.

  ‘You have to go, Necessity,’ Mother said, her voice hoarse. ‘Your father’s right. It’s for your own good.’

  ‘But why?’ Necessity asked.

  ‘One day, you may understand,’ Mother said, rising from the bed. ‘You will learn, but for now you must do as we tell you and leave us.’

  ‘But I don’t want to go,’ Ness sobbed, throwing herself at her mother. ‘I want to stay here with you . . .’

  A creaking floorboard scraped across her dream, dragging Ness to wakefulness. Someone was moving about among the beds. The shadows were thick but Ness could hear the stealthy tread. Close. Moonlight flashed on a cruelly curved blade, making Ness catch her breath. The silhouette of a hooded figure slipped across the square of the window.

  Wisdom often exists under a shabby coat.

  Traditional proverb

  Chapter Four

  Injustice

  Ness lay still, but her heart pounded so hard she thought the intruder would hear it. She held her breath as a shadow loomed over her. Her eyes were more accustomed to the dark now and she saw a face wrapped in a scarf. Only the dark eyes could be seen.

  Ness lunged forward but the bedclothes dragged at her, restricting her movement. With a muffled hiss, the stranger pulled back, turned and scurried towards the open sash window. Giving a brief, backward glance, the intruder leapt out into the night.

  Ness wrestled with the heavy sheets and blankets that seemed intent on pinning her in the bed. She rushed over just in time to see the dark figure sprinting across the front lawn towards the marshes.

  ‘You don’t get away that easily,’ she muttered under her breath, pulling on a pair of Sarah’s slippers and swinging her legs out of the window. She clambered out into the cold night air, glancing back into the room. The girls had slept through the intrusion. Good, Ness thought. At least they won’t alert old Pinchett.

  The drop seemed perilously high to Ness. She marvelled at how the intruder had managed to throw himself out without breaking an ankle. Her progress wasn’t half as fluid or acrobatic. A rusty drainpipe ran down the wall just beside the window and Ness clung to this, inching her way towards the ground. Finally, she was rewarded with the sting of gravel beneath her feet and she launched herself off after the stranger.

  Ness rushed across the lawn and down the marsh road. Her nightdress tangled in her legs, forcing her to gather it up. The silver birches that lined the road looked blue in the bright moonlight. She glimpsed a movement up ahead. The intruder had slowed his pace thinking he wouldn’t be followed. Ness gave a hiss of triumph, but the dark figure turned at the sound and sprinted up the road.

  Ness hurried after him. The figure began to widen the distance between them, then suddenly swerved into the woods that lined one side of the road. At the same time, Ness’s nightdress tangled itself around her left leg again, sending her spiralling to the ground. Struggling to her feet, she swept the dirt from her nightclothes and plunged into the shadows of the woods.

  Darkness pressed in on Ness. Here and there, shafts of moonlight formed pillars between the tree trunks, illuminating small clearings but deepening the gloom around them.
Brambles snagged at her nightdress. Ness stopped and shivered. She suddenly became aware of the cold, the thin soles of her slippers. The stranger couldn’t be far away – hiding in the dark, knife at the ready. A twig snapped behind her.

  ‘I know you’re out there,’ Ness said. Her voice sounded brittle and dry. She tried to keep it calm. ‘Why don’t you come out and fight?’

  Silence. Ness stood holding her breath, but nothing moved.

  Suddenly feeling vulnerable, she glanced around. The woods looked different at night but she knew she wasn’t far from Morris’s cottage. Hugging herself, she waded through the undergrowth towards her safe haven.

  Sergeant Major Morris was standing on the roof of his cottage when Ness arrived. He was holding a telescope to one eye and staring out across the tops of the trees.

  ‘Major Morris?’ Ness called up. ‘It’s me. What are you looking at?’

  Morris didn’t seem to hear her at first but then lowered the telescope and blinked down at her. ‘Ah, Nick, back again? I’m not sure what it is just yet,’ he said, sounding troubled. ‘A sail . . .’

  ‘A sail?’ Ness frowned.

  ‘Mmm,’ Morris muttered, beckoning her to join him.

  Ness clambered up the ladder that leaned against the side of the cottage and Morris handed her the telescope. She squinted through it at the distant moonlit horizon. Little stood out against the blue and silver shadows of the marshes – only a few birds flying past.

  Ness shrugged but Morris gently nudged the telescope a little to her right. She could just make out a tall prow and a triangular sail poking above the black silhouettes of the reed beds that lined the marsh.

  ‘I’ve not seen that kind of sail before,’ Morris said. ‘Not round these parts.’

  ‘It doesn’t look like a barge,’ Ness said. ‘Too small.’

  ‘Looks foreign to me,’ Morris murmured. ‘Could be trouble.’ He climbed down and strode into the cottage.

  ‘Trouble?’ Ness said, following him. ‘I wonder if it has anything to do with the intruder in our room.’

  Morris stopped dead. ‘Intruder?’ he said without turning round.

  ‘Yes,’ Ness said warily, remembering his strange outburst earlier that night. ‘Someone was sneaking around our dormitory. He had a strange scarf covering his face and a curved knife. He looked foreign to me.’

  ‘What happened?’ Morris turned, his face pale.

  ‘I saw him off.’ Ness couldn’t help grinning. ‘I chased him into the woods – that’s how I came to be here.’

  ‘Good lad,’ Morris said, patting Ness on the shoulder, but he didn’t smile back. ‘What would he be after, I wonder?’

  Ness shrugged. ‘Can’t think,’ she said. ‘I haven’t anything worth stealing. It’s all very odd. First that solicitor yesterday, then –’

  ‘Solicitor?’ Morris said, his face twitching.

  ‘Yes, from Uncle Carlos,’ Ness said. ‘He sent me some old bottle. It looks horrible –’

  ‘Carlos? A bottle?’ Morris barked, grabbing Ness by the wrist with an iron grip.

  ‘Yes. Ow! Major Morris, you’re hurting me!’

  Morris yanked her so close she could see the silver stubble on his chin, a fleck of spit on his lip. ‘Where’s the bottle now? Where?’

  ‘At the dormitory,’ Ness cried, becoming afraid as she noticed his wide eyes and trembling hand. ‘Why? What’s so special about an empty bottle?’

  Before Morris could reply, the door crashed open.

  ‘There he is, constable. Arrest that man!’ Miss Pinchett cried, stepping into the cottage.

  Two burly men in blue tunics and white trousers barged past her and grabbed Morris by the arms. Morris turned and backhanded one of them, sending him stumbling into Miss Pinchett.

  ‘Stay calm now, Sergeant. We just want to ask a few questions,’ the other constable said, struggling to hold on to Morris.

  ‘He broke into the Academy tonight, officer,’ Miss Pinchett gasped, scrambling to her feet. ‘I don’t know what’s missing yet but I saw him running across the lawn and this young lady was following – acting as an accomplice, no doubt!’

  ‘Ridiculous!’ Morris spat and turned to face the constable.

  ‘Look, old-timer,’ the constable grumbled. ‘I’m not ’appy about bein’ dragged from me bed at this unearthly hour, but it looks suspicious to me, so if you’ll just come quietly –’

  ‘It wasn’t him!’ Ness cried.

  ‘Don’t listen to her – she’s completely hysterical,’ Miss Pinchett screeched. ‘She was wearing trousers yesterday!’

  For a moment the constable stared at Ness, trying to take in what Miss Pinchett had just said.

  ‘Now, look here, I haven’t been near Rookery Heights,’ Morris insisted, but the other man had picked himself up and rapped the sergeant major sharply on the back of the head with his truncheon. Ness gave a scream as Morris slumped to the floor and threw herself down next to him.

  ‘Major Morris! Are you all right?’ she sobbed, massaging his shoulder.

  ‘Go to your parents, Ness. Take the bottle,’ Morris groaned. ‘Don’t let it out of your sight.’

  One of the constables dragged Ness back as the other pinned Morris’s arms and locked irons around his wrists.

  ‘What are you going to do with him?’ Ness asked.

  ‘We’ll ask him a few questions,’ the constable said, giving a gap-toothed grin. ‘Miss Pinchett seems sure he’s our intruder.’

  ‘But she wasn’t there,’ Ness snapped, struggling against the other constable’s grip. ‘How could she know?’

  ‘Now that’s enough, missy,’ the constable barked, pulling Morris to his feet.

  The sergeant major swayed a little as he stood. Elbowing herself free, Ness threw herself at the constable who held Morris.

  ‘Ness!’ Morris hissed, stopping her dead.

  ‘You know my real name?’ Ness said, frowning.

  Morris leaned forward, his face close to hers. Ness could feel his breath on her ear.

  ‘No time to explain now,’ he whispered. ‘Get the bottle, go to the quay and ask for a Jacob Carr. He has a barge that will take you to London. Find your parents, Ness.’

  ‘That’ll do,’ the constable said, pulling cruelly on Morris’s wrist irons. ‘You’re coming with us.’

  Ness stood helpless as the constables manhandled Morris out of the cottage. She listened as their footsteps faded into the depths of the woods.

  Miss Pinchett blocked the doorway, arms folded, a self-satisfied grin on her face. ‘Now, Necessity Bonehill,’ she hissed, ‘it’s back to Rookery Heights for you. Or do I have to call the constables back to carry you there?’

  Ness ignored Miss Pinchett and stared out of the cottage into the shadows of the woods. Someone had peered at her from the undergrowth and then vanished. But Ness had glimpsed dark, fierce eyes and a face obscured by a black headscarf.

  If wishes were true, shepherds would be kings.

  Traditional proverb

  Chapter Five

  The Bottle

  All the way back to the Academy, Ness sensed that they were being followed, but the figure in the undergrowth didn’t reappear. Major Morris said to go back to the Academy, Ness thought. He said my real name! Things are getting stranger by the hour.

  Miss Pinchett walked in stony silence. Ness’s heart felt like lead when she thought of Morris being taken away. What will they do with him? It’s not fair. Ness glowered at the headmistress.

  Rookery Heights looked more forlorn than ever as they crunched up the gravel pathway to its front door. More black birds huddled on the roof top, cawing and mocking Ness. Toop stood at the doorway in his dressing gown and stared at her with disdain.

  ‘Go back upstairs to bed, Necessity,’ Miss Pinchett said, taking an oil lamp from Toop. ‘And don’t wake the girls. We’ll see what’s missing in the morning and discuss your role in the burglary then.’

  Ness opened her mouth to protest, but Miss Pinche
tt swept away across the hall. She took the lamp with her, leaving only moonlight to see by.

  Ness stamped upstairs. She didn’t care who she woke.

  Back in the dormitory, Ness threw herself on to her bed, pulling the covers over her. The bottle clinked against the bed under her pillow. Ness pulled it out. Maybe this was what the intruder was after. Morris had told her not to let it out of her sight. Maybe it was valuable after all.

  Ness shook it next to her ear. Nothing.

  If it was empty, why couldn’t she open it? It looked old – maybe it would disintegrate. Ness had read of antiquarians who opened ancient tombs only to watch the contents crumble to dust when they came into contact with the open air. Maybe the bottle was held together by the stopper. She flicked the side of the bottle and listened to the clink. It sounds strong enough. If there is something inside, maybe it’ll give me a clue about what’s going on!

  But the bottle looked horrible; the leering, dancing figures around its body seemed to mock her. It felt horrible too – cold and heavy. Her stomach still fluttered and she shivered despite the blankets. What would Father say?

  ‘He’d tell me to stop fooling about,’ she muttered, scowling. ‘Don’t send someone a bottle if you don’t want it opened!’

  She snatched it up and gave the lid a final tug.

  The stopper opened with a hollow pop.

  Only the girls’ gentle breathing broke the silence.

  Ness gasped. A dim light began to glow from inside the bottle accompanied by a distant scream that became louder and louder. Ness dropped the bottle and covered her ears.

  Smoke boiled from the bottle’s mouth, tainting the room with a foul smell of decay. For a moment, a hideous figure filled Ness’s vision. Gaunt and skeletal, stretching and twisting its body in agony, the figure spiralled out of the bottle’s neck. With long, scaly arms clamped around its head, it screamed. Brown, serrated teeth lined the ragged mouth, and its eyes were screwed tightly shut like some hideous newborn baby.