by Holly Rivers
‘I need to talk to you,’ said Demelza. She made sure that Lord Balthazar was still completely covered by her jumper and came to perch on the end of the bed. ‘It’s important.’
‘Something so important that it couldn’t wait until morning?’ replied Percy, pulling his covers around him. ‘I was having such a nice dream.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ said Demelza, rolling her eyes. ‘But you’ll have to go back to your chocolate cake another time.’ She glanced quickly towards the bedroom door.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Percy. ‘What’s going on?’
Demelza cleared her throat. ‘Well, it’s a long story,’ she began. ‘And to be honest, I don’t think you’d believe me if I just told you. So I’m going to show you something. But you have to promise not to scream, OK?’
‘Erm . . . OK,’ said Percy, looking confused. ‘But it better not be one of those weird snail-hamster hybrids that you were breeding in the summer. My dad still moans about finding their droppings in his geraniums.’
Demelza frowned. ‘They were called snamsters, and they were completely toilet trained, I’ll have you know . . . well . . . most of them anyway.’ She got up and stood by the desk. ‘Now, are you ready?’
Percy nodded, and with a deep breath Demelza whipped back her jumper to reveal her Talking Head.
Lord Balthazar coughed dramatically, as if he were choking. ‘Urgghh! Thank goodness for that. I thought I was going to suffocate to death under that disgusting, pongy jumper.’
‘You’re already dead,’ muttered Demelza under her breath. ‘Anyhow, Percy, I’d like you to meet Lord Balthazar III of Upper Loxworth. Lord Balthazar, this is my friend Percy.’
The skull’s gaze shifted towards the boy and he nodded. ‘It’s very nice to make your acquaintance, Percival, even though I fear we might have interrupted you at a somewhat ungodly hour. How do you do?’
Percy didn’t answer. His face slackened, and before Demelza could stop him, his mouth dropped open and he let out an ear-piercing scream. ‘ARGHHHH! IT’S ALIVE! IT’S ALIVE!’ He leapt from his bed, and with arms flailing, ran across the room to the door. ‘Keep it away from me! Keep it away from me!’
‘Percy, be quiet!’ hissed Demelza. ‘I told you not to scream! Your dad will hear!’
Percy threw his hands over his eyes, trembling like a jelly.
‘Goodness gracious me, boy!’ exclaimed Lord Balthazar. ‘Is there really a need for such histrionics? I’m a talking head, not a poisonous cobra!’
‘Oh, I must be going mad,’ Percy muttered to himself. ‘I’m seeing things! Maybe I’m having one of my allergic reactions.’
‘Percy, calm down,’ said Demelza, looking into his eyes. ‘I promise, you’re not going mad or having an allergic reaction. Come and sit down and I’ll explain everything.’
Percy peeked through his fingers and, when he realized that he wasn’t hallucinating, he muttered, ‘Only if you get rid of that . . . that thing.’
‘Thing?’ spluttered Lord Balthazar, almost gagging. ‘How very rude! The thing of which you speak is actually an esteemed member of the British aristocracy! Demelza, I will not be spoken to in such a manner!’
But Demelza had already picked up the skull, and before he had a chance to protest any further, she’d shut him in Percy’s wardrobe. ‘That better?’ she asked.
Percy nodded, and when he’d finally stopped shaking and was tucked up in bed again, Demelza told her story.
She began by going back to the night when they’d crept into the greenhouse together and discovered the trapdoor, and told Percy all about what she’d actually discovered beneath it. She talked about her new-found powers, the Spectre Detectors, the Snatcher and finally her suspicions about Ms Cardinal.
Percy was silent throughout, his chin dropping lower with every word Demelza spoke.
‘S-s-so let me get this straight,’ he stuttered after she’d finished. ‘You’re telling me that you and your grandma c-c-can talk to ghosts?’
‘Well, technically we call them spectres,’ said Demelza, as if she’d been practising all her life. ‘But yes, that’s right. We summon them to help people deal with their grief. I’m only an apprentice at the moment, but when I’m ready I’ll take over from Grandma Maeve.’
Percy shook his head. ‘But . . . I didn’t think you believed in stuff like that, Demelza. I thought you only trusted things that were scientifically proven.’
Demelza hesitated. ‘This time a couple a weeks ago I wouldn’t have believed it. But I guess there’s no better proof than seeing something with your own eyes, than summoning something with your own hands. Detecting spectres is in my blood, Percy. Always has been.’
Percy shot a quick glance at the wardrobe and shuddered. ‘But why didn’t your grandma tell you about all this before? It’s a pretty huge thing to keep quiet.’
‘Grandma just wanted to protect me for as long as possible, especially as my powers didn’t show up on time,’ answered Demelza. ‘Like I said, being a Spectre Detector is dangerous. And I think it’s about to get even more so, with a murderous criminal as my headmistress.’
Percy plumped up his pillows. ‘You really think that your headmistress is this Snatcher person?’
‘I’m fairly certain,’ said Demelza. ‘But I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t tell Grandma without letting slip that I was super careless. I don’t want to disappoint her.’ She picked up the copy of Percy’s comic and pointed to the front cover. ‘What would Captain Thalasso do?’
Just then a loud creak came from the landing and the children spun towards the door.
‘Quick!’ Percy hissed, gesturing to the space below his bed. ‘Under there! It’ll be my dad!’
Demelza scrambled under the bed, and as the door creaked open she held her breath, expecting the worst. If Mr Grey caught her then she’d be grounded for weeks . . . months . . . years!
But it wasn’t Mr Grey’s feet that appeared in the threshold.
Four ginger furry paws padded into the room and crossed the carpet with a high-pitched miaow.
‘Tiger, it’s you,’ whispered Percy. ‘Panic over, Demelza. It’s just the cat.’
Demelza poked her head out from under the overhanging duvet and pulled herself to her feet. Tiger was purring on Percy’s bed, a red leather collar around her neck.
‘She’s probably just come back from one of her night-time strolls,’ said Percy. ‘You gave us a fright there, girl.’
But even though Demelza was relieved, a feeling of guilt had begun to swell in her tummy. That had been way too close for comfort, and she was suddenly very aware of all the information she’d revealed to Percy; the promises that she’d broken. Had she done the right thing, confiding in her friend?
‘Percy, you do promise not to tell anyone about any of this, don’t you?’ she said, hoping for reassurance. ‘This is our little secret, yes?’
‘Little?’ scoffed Percy. ‘That’s the understatement of the century! But of course I promise.’ He picked up his comic and a look of newly found determination twinkled in his eyes. ‘I tell you what, why don’t you come over tomorrow and we can put together a plan to confront Ms Cardinal? You know how formidable I look in my bunny slippers!’ He flexed his non-existent arm muscles and gurned.
Demelza laughed. ‘OK, but if you see anything suspicious before then, you can let me know using this . . .’ She reached into her satchel and pulled out a set of her homemade walkie-talkies. They’d originally been created when Demelza had been bedridden with a twisted ankle the previous year – whenever she’d needed another hot-water bottle, or bunch of grapes, or Danish pastry, she could make the request to Grandma Maeve without having to move from the comfort of her room.
She handed one of the handsets to Percy and showed him how to use it. ‘But don’t use your real name over the airwaves, OK? Anybody could be listening in. I’ll be known as Clever Cog, and you’ll be the Comic Book Kid. Do you understand?’
Percy smiled. ‘Loud
and clear, Clever Cog!’
Demelza got up and opened the wardrobe. ‘Come on, Lord Balthazar, it’s time to go home.’
‘Well, thank goodness for that,’ spluttered the skull as Demelza lifted him into the air. ‘I have never been treated with such contempt! I am a lord, not a pair of smelly old boots!’
‘Yes, yes . . .’ said Demelza, silencing him with her jumper once again. She tucked him under her arm and made for the bedroom door. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Percy. Or later today, I guess. And remember, not a word to anyone.’
CHAPTER 17
Dancing with Death
‘Ah! There she is!’ said Grandma Maeve as Demelza stumbled into the kitchen later that morning. ‘I was just about to come and wake you, sleepy head.’ The old woman was standing at the stove and she gave her frying pan a gentle shake before tossing a fluffy pancake into the air. It landed back in the pan with a sizzle, golden side up.
Demelza looked at the clock and gasped. It was gone noon! She must have been so exhausted after her midnight expedition to Percy’s that she’d completely slept through her alarm! ‘Grandma, why didn’t you wake me up? I’ve missed half of school!’
‘Well, you looked so peaceful,’ said Grandma Maeve, flipping the pancake on to Demelza’s plate with a satisfying flump. ‘You was all curled up like a little koala. And besides, I need you well rested for tonight.’
Demelza’s nose wrinkled. ‘Uh? What’s happening tonight? Has someone booked in for a summoning?’
‘Nope! We’re goin’ on a little outing,’ said Grandma Maeve, putting the plate down on to the table and gesturing for Demelza to sit. ‘So it’s important to ’ave a big brekkie.’ She looked at her watch and chuckled. ‘Or should I say lunch?’
Demelza’s eyes widened as she took her place at the table. A surprise? What on earth could it be? Had Grandma Maeve finally got the hint, and was taking her to buy the new Astro 250 telescope that she’d been wanting? She had been dropping hints into conversation every week for the past year!
‘So, what is it, Grandma?’ she asked, dipping her spoon in the pot of syrup and drizzling it over her pancake. ‘What’s the surprise?’
‘You’ll just have to wait and see, eager beaver,’ said Grandma Maeve, coming to join her with a pot of tea. ‘But we’ve got a long walk ahead of us this afternoon, so make sure you fill yer belly. And get yer winter coat and scarf out from the closet. It’s gonna be a chilly one.’
It was already getting dark when the pair slipped out of Bladderwrack Cottage later that afternoon. Aided by her walking stick, Grandma Maeve hobbled down the garden path. Demelza followed, and did up the toggles of her duffel coat before pulling on her thinking cap. She still had no idea what Grandma Maeve had in store, and a nervous anticipation had been brewing in her stomach all day to the point where it was almost bursting. Was it wise to be going out with Ms Cardinal possibly on the prowl? Demelza decided that she wasn’t taking any chances, and had packed her satchel with a few of her inventions that could possibly double up as weapons if need be: a box of Bogey Bombs, a set of Stay-Away Brass Knuckles, and a handful of her Fantastical Fizzing Firecrackers left over from last year’s Bonfire Night.
‘Now, you must stay close at all times,’ said Grandma Maeve as they reached the front gate. She was wearing a long velvet cloak and had a battered portmanteau hoisted over one shoulder. Under the fading light her green eyes twinkled, cat-like. ‘No wandering off, and keep that loud voice of yours down. We can’t have anyone following us: we’re on Spectre Detector business.’
Spectre Detector business? Oh no! Demelza’s head began to spin with worry. This would be the perfect opportunity for Ms Cardinal to strike! Her mind filled with horrible visions of her headmistress stalking them across the countryside, but she nodded, and the pair set off down the winding country lanes, the darkening sky slowly becoming embroidered with stars. She’d just have to keep her wits about her.
Eventually, they reached the outskirts of the village and made their way into the surrounding hills. As Demelza looked back towards Little Penhallow, the buildings seemed minuscule and the street lamps were mere flickers in the distance. She could see the spires of the church and, further away, the crumbling deserted turrets of Crookescroft Castle – the village’s oldest relic – rising upwards like knobbly fingers.
Grandma Maeve took a couple of lanterns from her portmanteau and handed one to Demelza. With the strike of a match their wicks were aflame, and they illuminated the path ahead with a dancing orange light.
Demelza gasped as she realized where they were heading. A thick wood stretched out in front of them, the dark stems of its trees jutting up densely, like prison bars. Demelza shivered, anticipating Ms Cardinal appearing through the trees to steal her away into the night. This was not the kind of surprise she had been hoping for. ‘We’re . . . we’re going in there?’ she asked.
Grandma Maeve just nodded and pulled their Masks of Facelessness from the bag, signalling for Demelza to put hers on.
They walked silently through the trees in single file. Underfoot, the ground was brittle and each of their footsteps sent a crunchy echo through the tangle of branches around them. Every now and then Grandma would stop, as if listening for something or someone, and Demelza grew more and more anxious by the second. Thoughts of Ms Cardinal commandeered her brain, and the longer they walked, the more she felt that it was best just to come clean. She hadn’t wanted to worry Grandma Maeve, but then again she hadn’t anticipated that they’d be walking through a forest in the middle of the night, just before Halloween!
‘Grandma . . .’ she began, looking down at her feet with nerves as they walked. ‘I . . . I need to talk to you about something. It’s important. You see, I think I might have got into a bit of bother. It happened at school yesterday. Ms Cardinal got hold of my notebook. She saw some doodles that I’d done in it of the summoning chamber . . .’
Demelza looked up, but to her dismay, the old woman hadn’t been listening. She’d walked on ahead and was now standing under a sprawling oak tree, surrounded by undergrowth. A soupy mist was swirling all around it, almost as if it were the opening to another dimension.
‘Come on, slowcoach, we’re here,’ whispered Grandma Maeve, gesturing for Demelza to come closer. She rapped out a complex rhythm on the tree’s knotted trunk and waited.
With the suddenness of a jack-in-the-box, a woman popped her head through some of the surrounding branches. She was wearing a Mask of Facelessness, adorned with lustrous black pearls. ‘Password?’ she whispered.
‘None of your business!’ answered Grandma Maeve curtly.
Normally, Demelza would have been shocked to hear Grandma Maeve answering someone in such an impolite way, but what was happening in front of her was far more pressing. As if by magic, the branches surrounding the oak had begun to part, and a large grassy clearing stretched out before them for acres and acres!
All around its edges the trees were aglow with lights and jack-o’-lanterns. At its centre, a bonfire encircled with skulls cast an amber glow over the throng of masked people huddled around it. The night breeze brought with it a sweet, smoky smell – cinnamon and cloves and spice. It felt like the curtain had been drawn back on the most magnificent of stages.
‘Grandma, what is this place?’ Demelza asked, wonder-struck.
Grandma Maeve put an arm around her granddaughter as they stepped out into the clearing. ‘This, my dear, is the Dance with Death. It’s the Spectre Detectors’ autumn gatherin’ and the highlight of our calendar. It’s always held in a different place, so we’re lucky that this year it’s so close to home. People have travelled from all over the country, and tonight, spectres and detectors alike will celebrate! Look!’
She pointed upwards, and it was only then that Demelza noticed the most impressive sight of all. The night sky was filled with hundreds upon hundreds of historical spectres, who flew among the stars like wisps of bright white smoke. Amazonian warriors floated next to Ancient
Egyptians, Edwardian men mingled with Victorian ladies, and supernatural children from yesteryear hopscotched together through the moonlit clouds. It was a sight like no other and Demelza felt her eyes glistening. ‘Where have they all come from? I thought spectres could only be summoned to help others?’
‘These are the staff of the Quietus, my darlin’. They’re all spectres that were summoned at some point in history, and for whatever reason didn’t get sent back to Inn Memoriam in time. The Spectral Sages keep them busy now. There’s one of them over there, in fact.’
She pointed to the bonfire, where a dark-haired man had appeared, his face masked, his body cloaked. His skull-shaped mask was more ornate than any Demelza had seen before. It was adorned with feathers, shells, glass beads, bits of mirror and, as the firelight fell upon it, it sparkled like the most bounteous of treasure troves.
‘Now remember,’ said Grandma Maeve, ‘it’s very important to keep your mask on at all times. Even though everyone here is a Spectre Detector, we need to maintain our anonymity in case of intruders. You understand?’
Demelza answered vacantly – she wasn’t really listening any more. There was so much going on around her and she was desperate to explore! Any thoughts of Ms Cardinal had completely vanished, all of her concerns suddenly felt like a distant memory. She’d be safe here.
‘Let’s go warm up and get something to eat,’ said Grandma Maeve, pointing towards the bonfire. ‘The feast is always something special. I hope you’re hungry?’
She took her granddaughter’s hand and led her through the jostling crowd. The air was thick with a smoky miasma, and all around, long, wooden banqueting tables were laden with scrumptious-looking food. Hot pies were nestled next to mounds of golden jacket potatoes, and buns decorated with currants were piled high in sugar-coated towers. Demelza’s mouth began to water.
‘I suggest we start here,’ said Grandma Maeve, wandering over to a small pavilion. It was decorated with strings of golden pumpkins and gourds, and inside, a woman wearing a horned mask was ripping pieces from a dark loaf of bread.