The Beast of Talesend (Beaumont and Beasley Book 1)

by Kyle Shultz

  “How many times do we have to say it?” Cordelia snapped. “We’re not interested.”

  The wraith was becoming desperate now. “I don’t only know about the past,” she babbled. “I can tell you prophecies as well. Secret predictions, not written in any scroll. Who is the puppetmaster’s heir? What will happen when the clock strikes twelve? What is the true fate of the silver-heeled sorceress?”

  “Now you’re just spouting gibberish.” I pulled my arm free from her grasp and took Cordelia’s hand. “Let’s go,” I said in a low voice.

  “Your brother,” cried the wraith, hurrying after us.

  I stopped in my tracks. “What about him?” I said, without turning around.

  “There’s a prophecy about you and him, you know,” she said. “The Brothers Beasley. One a hero, one a monster. One fated to destroy the other.”

  I spun to face her. “What?”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Cordelia warned, pulling on my hand. “She’s just trying to keep you here.”

  “But—”

  “Come on!” With a sharp jerk, she tugged me closer to the backwards mirror. A breeze kicked up, rustling the black hedge before us, though it did nothing to dispel the fog.

  “Please,” said the wraith, reaching out to us. The wind seemed to be pushing her away from us, deeper into the mist. “Don’t leave me alone in here,” she begged. “Don’t leave me with her.”

  Still clutching my hand, Cordelia reached out and touched the mirror glass. It rippled around her fingers like water. I glanced over my shoulder at the wraith, arguing with myself about whether I should have tried to get more out of her about that prophecy.

  There was a bright flash from the mirror, and we were both drawn towards it. Just as the white garden began to fade from view, I saw tendrils of red light reaching out from the fog, wrapping around the wraith and dragging her away.

  “No!” she shrieked, as the tentacles pulled her deeper into the mist. I saw a huge pair of glowing eyes blinking behind her just before she vanished.

  Everything went black for a moment. When my vision cleared, I found myself lying on a hard floor. I scrambled to my feet, my claws making unpleasant scraping noises as they struggled for purchase on the marble.

  “We’re back,” I exclaimed, glancing around at the museum exhibits. It seemed like ages since we had last been here.

  Cordelia was already darting around the room, unraveling the barrier spells she had placed on the doorways. “We have to hurry,” she said. “The sun will be coming up soon, and we don’t have a flying carpet any more. We need to get to my house while it’s still dark enough for us to make our way through the city.”

  “At this point, I really don’t care who sees me,” I said.

  Finishing the last spell, she turned to me, biting her lip in concern. “We may be too late already. If the Rose has grown this powerful—”

  “We’ll get there as quickly as we can.” I crouched down in front of her, placing my hands flat on the floor. “Climb on.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m starting to get the hang of this body. More or less. I think we’ll get there a lot more quickly if you’re on my back.”

  “What about making a plan first?”

  I shrugged. “I assumed you already had one.”

  “I thought you hated my plans.”

  “I do,” I admitted. “But you’re the magic expert, so I’ll have to risk it. Just point me in the right direction and tell me who you want me to punch. Or eat, if necessary.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she made up her mind and swung her leg over my back, grabbing two handfuls of my mane to steady herself. “I’ve never stormed a castle on my faithful steed before.”

  “I am not your faithful steed,” I growled. “And we’re not making a habit of this. Now, hang on.”

  I bounded forward, ignoring Cordelia’s yelp of surprise. Grudgingly, I had to admit that my new form felt far less awkward when I was moving on all fours. I streaked down the corridor to the exit, my claws tearing into the carpet.

  Just then, a guard stepped out of a door into the hallway. His jaw fell, and his eyes bulged. “What the—”

  “’Scuse us,” I said, knocking him down and trampling him slightly.

  “Sorry!” Cordelia called back to him, still gripping my mane. “Nick, I don’t mean to be critical, but why are we heading for the front doors? Wouldn’t it be safer—”

  “It’s more direct,” I said. “We’re taking a shortcut.”

  “A shortcut?”

  “Trust me.” I burst through the huge main doors of the museum and charged out into the street, skidding to a stop on the pavement.

  A light drizzle was falling - a prelude to worse weather, if the massive thunderclouds silhouetted in the moonlight were any indication. Long lines of wet automobiles glistened in the light of the street-lamps, their honking horns and purring motors mingling in a strangely harmonious din. I looked up at the buildings towering over us, planning my next move.

  “I say!”

  My left ear twitches in the direction of the voice, and I turned to see a top-hatted, well-dressed gentleman with a bejeweled woman on his arm. Both were gaping at us in complete astonishment. The woman looked as if she were trying to decide whether or not she should scream.

  Cordelia released a handful of fur to wave at them. “Hello.”

  “I say,” said the man again, his face white as a sheet.

  “Yes, yes. Monsters are real.” I bared my fangs at the couple. “Deal with it.”

  I didn’t pay any more attention to them - I think the woman may have fainted. Or possibly it was the man. Or both. Anyway, I leapt into the street just as a red light brought the traffic to a halt, and slipped between the cars to reach the other side. I heard at least one constable blowing his whistle frantically.

  “Do you know how to get to where I live?” asked Cordelia.

  I nodded. “Oh, yes. I’ve been past your townhouse a thousand times.”

  As we came to a stop in front of a tall brick building, the bottom floor of which appeared to be a dress shop, Cordelia gently tugged one of my ears toward her and shouted above the rising chorus of car horns. “Nick, I don’t mean to be critical,” she said, “but what exactly are you—”

  I flicked my ear out of her grasp and reached up to dig my claws into the bricks. Trying not to think too hard about what I was doing - or about what would happen if I did it wrong - I began crawling straight up the wall. Fortunately, my claws were equal to the task, and we were soon halfway to the roof.

  “Don’t look down,” I suggested to Cordelia.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she squeaked, digging her knees into my ribs and clutching my mane for dear life.

  The frenzied shouts and honks from below faded as we reached the top. I took a moment to get my bearings, then began to run across the roof, careful to avoid crashing through any skylights. The rain was coming down harder now, soaking through my coat into my fur. In the distance, I heard thunder rumbling and saw a jagged bolt of lightning tear through the darkness.

  “Nick,” Cordelia cried as we neared the edge, “you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do, are you?”

  “You’re the one who took me for a ride on a flying carpet,” I reminded her.

  “Yes! ‘Flying’ being the operative word!”

  “Well, unless that carpet spell works on people—”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “—I suggest you avoid distracting me right now.”

  “Right. I’m just going to shut my eyes, I think.”

  “Good idea.” I gathered myself to spring.

  Then it occurred to me that I was doing something utterly ludicrous.

  Unfortunately, by the time I figured that out, I had already jumped.

  The wind roared in my ears as we soared over the alley below. For a moment, time seemed to stop. And in that moment, it struck me.

&n
bsp; Yesterday, I was a respectable private detective who didn’t believe in magic.

  Tonight, I’m a hairy gargoyle leaping across the rooftops of Talesend with a magical girl on my back.

  No matter what happens next - even if I do manage to become human again - my life is never going to be the same.

  It wasn’t until I heard Cordelia’s happy laughter that I realized I had landed safely on the other side. I also realized then that no matter how much I wanted to be human again, I didn’t want my life to be the same.

  Because even though I was hungry, itchy, wet, and smelly, I felt more alive than I ever had before.

  “Magic is real,” I murmured to myself.

  “What?” Cordelia shouted over the downpour. “I didn’t catch that.”

  “Never mind,” I said, quickening my pace. “I’ll tell you later.”

  The whispering began when we were still several blocks away from the Whitlock townhouse. At first it was nothing more than a barely-noticeable murmur in the back of my mind, and I thought I was only imagining it. But it grew more persistent as we drew closer to the house, rising to an angry hiss that refused to be ignored. It distracted me so much that I nearly missed a rooftop on one of my jumps.

  “Steady on,” Cordelia warned, nearly unseated by my blunder.

  “Sorry.” I shook my head in an effort to clear it, slinging rainwater from my mane. “I hear something. In my head.”

  “What?” Cordelia’s voice was tense. “Is it my father? Don’t tell me he’s starting to take control of you after all.”

  Reluctantly, I stopped trying to block out the whispering and instead listened to it more closely. The syllables were harsh, ancient, and unfamiliar; no language I had ever heard.

  And yet, I could understand them perfectly.

  Abomination. Interloper. Mongrel.

  “I don’t think it’s your father,” I said. “I think it’s the Rose.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That mirror-thing said that this spell had a will of its own. I guess that means it can talk, as well.”

  Cordelia shuddered. “Try to ignore it. We’re almost there.”

  Gritting my teeth against the constant hiss, I loped across the final three roofs and found myself looking down at the Whitlock townhouse.

  Cordelia drew her breath in sharply at the sight.

  “Dear God,” I exclaimed, staring in astonishment.

  The house was a seething mass of thorny vines, coiling out of every window and snaking across every wall. A few curious people had gathered in the street below to watch, pulling their coats tighter around them to shield themselves from the wind and rain. They kept well back, flinching every time one of the tendrils twitched.

  I shook my head. “We’re never going to get inside that.”

  “We can,” said Cordelia. “Remember the underground meeting hall? There’s a secret passageway leading into it.”

  I nodded. “Of course there is. How do we get to it?”

  “Through the garden.”

  “Could you be more specific? The whole house is a garden now.”

  “I mean the garden behind the house.”

  I turned my head to peer over my shoulder at her. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  She shook her head. “As a matter of fact, that garden wasn’t safe before the house got took over by a homicidal flower. So no. I’m not sure.”

  “Right. Just checking.”

  A few more rooftop leaps got us behind the house. I climbed down the side of the last building and came to rest in an alley. Cordelia slid off my back, and I stood upright again, pulling on my lapels to straighten my coat. I craned my neck for a better look at the garden, squinting through the pouring rain. There weren’t many street-lamps here to help me see, but I could just barely make out the little copse of trees and bushes through a wrought-iron gate set into a high brick wall.

  I glanced at Cordelia. “Ready?”

  “Let me lead the way,” she said. “Hopefully I can hold back any clawthorn vines we might encounter.”

  “And I’ll deal with the Beasts,” I said, slamming a fist into my open palm experimentally. “Though, to be honest, I’m not quite sure about my chances in a fight with one of those - agh!”

  The whispering in my head became a roar, causing me to flinch and grunt in pain. I clamped my hands to my ears - no good, of course, since the noise was inside my head.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Cordelia. “Is it the Rose again?”

  “It’s worse now,” I said, barely able to hear my own voice over the hissing. “Much worse.”

  Traitor. Interferer. Abomination.

  Cordelia gently touched my arm. “What’s it saying?”

  “Difficult to explain,” I said. “But I think - I think it’s scared of me.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing.”

  “Yes, except I’ve no idea why it’s scared.” I lowered my hands as the whispers abated slightly. “I’d have a much easier time using my strategic advantage if I knew what it was.”

  Cordelia took my hand and pulled me forward. “Come on. Let’s find out.”

  There was no keyhole in the padlock on the garden gate. Cordelia waved a hand over it to reveal a circle of glowing runes, which she carefully pulled apart. The lock clicked open, and the gate swung back of its own accord. Cordelia beckoned for me to follow her as she stepped inside.

  The clawthorn vines woven in amongst the garden’s native vegetation made the place feel like a jungle. There was more light within the walls, thanks to unusually large, greenish fireflies that buzzed between the plants. The vines weren’t the only sinister-looking plants in this place - practically everything growing here had an unpleasant appearance. There were shrubs with branches that grew in the shape of gnarled hands, making the bushes look as if they were bristling with clutching fingers. Flowers resembling sweet peas dotted the ground, with blood-red pods hanging from their stems. There were even a few rosebushes, dotted with red-and-yellow blossoms. The clawthorn vines had apparently taken a strong dislike to these, coiling around them as if they were deliberately trying to choke the life out of them.

  But the most striking specimens in the garden were the apple trees. They were tall and leafy, granting us welcome shelter from the rain. They looked far more normal then the rest of the garden’s denizens - except that the apples hanging from their branches were pitch-black in color. Curious, I prodded one of the fruits with a claw.

  Cordelia grabbed my wrist. “Don’t.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Poisonous?”

  “Yes.”

  “Deadly?”

  “Worse.”

  “Right.” I lowered my hand. “So, where’s the—”

  There was a sudden crashing noise from the undergrowth, and a Beast emerged onto the cobblestone path where we stood. As soon as it saw me, its eight eyes all widened at once, and it uttered an unearthly shriek, curving its barbed tail in readiness for a strike.

  The whispering in my head swelled to a deluge once more. And as I looked into the monster’s eyes, I knew it was hearing the words as well.

  Abomination. Unworthy. Destroy.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Red-Flashy-Explodey Stuff

  “Wait,” I said to Cordelia, as she readied a spell. “Don’t do anything yet.”

  “Why aren’t you attacking it?” whispered Cordelia.

  “Because I’m trying to figure out why it’s not attacking me,” I hissed back, my eyes locked with the other Beast’s. It tilted its head as it gazed at me.

  “Is that important?”

  “Possibly.” The monster’s twisted features were difficult to read, but I could see something like confusion in its face.

  Then, to my surprise, it knelt down in front of me.

  “That’s what the others did when my father changed,” Cordelia exclaimed. “I don’t understand.”

  “I think I might,” I said slowly. “As much I can understand anything hav
ing to do with magic, at least. Your father’s supposed to be the one in control of the Rose because his blood touched it, right?”

  “Right.”

  “But it wasn’t his blood that touched it first. Not really. It was mine.”

  “Yes, but that was only a broken-off piece of the Rose. Does it - well - count?”

  “It counts enough for me to be able to resist his mental control. Maybe it counts enough for me to control the creatures myself.”

  Her eyes widened. “Does that mean you can seize power over the Rose? Usurp my father completely?”

  I shook my head, clenching my jaw as I struggled to maintain my mental focus. “I don’t think so. It’s tough going just keeping my hold on this Beast. I can probably only handle one of these creatures at a time.”

  As if on cue, another Beast emerged from the trees, snarling in triumph. My concentration flickered for a moment, and I saw the first creature began to rise again. Acting on impulse, I focused on it again and gave it a command. I heard my own voice speaking in the strange, guttural language of the Rose. “Attack.”

  The monster complied, leaping upon its comrade. The two began swiping at each other with their claws and barbed tails. Clearly, they were evenly matched - it didn’t look as if a winner would emerge from the battle for a long time.

  “Just keep them occupied,” said Cordelia. “I’ll try to knock them out.” A glowing cloud of runes materialized between her hands, and she flung it at the Beasts. But just as the spell was about to strike them, a blast of red light exploded from both the creatures, shattering Cordelia’s runes and knocking her backward. In the same moment, several clawthorn vines slithered out of the shrubbery, coiling protectively around the fighting beasts and striking at Cordelia.

  “The Rose,” she said, gasping for breath. “It’s fighting me. Trying to survive.” She fired a series of spells at the vines in rapid succession, causing them to burst into flame. They blackened and shriveled, but within seconds, more rose to take their place.