Troubletwisters

by Garth Nix

  ‘Sentries,’ guessed Jack. ‘I wonder what the rest of The Evil is up to?’

  ‘Be careful,’ said Jaide. ‘It’ll be waiting for us to try something else.’

  ‘Hey, I’ll be a shadow. What can go wrong?’

  Jack regretted saying this the second it came out, but it was too late. Jaide looked as if she was going to go all Kleo-vs-Ari on him.

  ‘I mean I’ll be very careful,’ Jack said seriously.

  ‘I wish Dad was here,’ said Jaide.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Jack. ‘But he never is, is he?’

  Ari opened his mouth as though to say something, but shut it again with a snap at a sharp look from Kleo.

  Jaide didn’t notice. She had gone back to looking at the watching rats as Jack settled himself on a chair. He opened the silver cylinder and put it on the floor, then placed his hand into the shadow of the elm where it fell through the window. He closed his eyes, even though he wasn’t sure if that made a difference.

  ‘Good luck,’ whispered Jaide.

  Her voice grew faint as Jack’s mind found the tree’s shadow and slipped into it, like a fish into a stream. Following it was as easy as wishing. The world slid around him, grey and blurry, and when he looked up, he saw himself in the chair.

  The silver cylinder was nearby, and it had something in it. The memory of the shadow. Shadow Jack reached in and pulled out a flower that had the colour and consistency of a light, white mist. But as he touched it, it got darker and more defined, and he had no trouble holding it in his hand.

  Shadow Jack slid along the shadow of the branch, out through the window to where the shadow of the trunk fell across the road. There was plenty of shadow to follow from there, and Jack slipped along to Dock Road, heading east. He lost his bearings for a moment, as light and shade crisscrossed everywhere, and it was hard to make out landmarks when he was pressed flat against the ground or vertically up a wall. Luckily, the lighthouse was visible from just about anywhere in the town, and even through his blurry shadow-vision he always found it again. All he had to do was choose shadows that led toward it and he would be fine.

  That was the plan. But the further he went, the harder he found it to move. It was as if an elastic band connected his mind and his body, and the more it stretched, the more difficult it was to go on. Every extra foot cost him more effort until it seemed like he was fighting harder and harder just to stay where he was. If he let go, he would snap back to himself in an instant.

  Then, as Shadow Jack strained to move forward, he saw someone walking toward him along Dock Road – a woman in overalls with a low cap on her head. Shadow Jack paid her no attention, beyond vaguely noting that it was the woman with the sad eyes who had been fixing the playground equipment, Rennie. He ignored her, all his energy focused on trying to move.

  Come on, Jack, he said to himself, and he slid forward a few feet, not noticing that the woman had come up right behind him. You can do it!

  Something grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him out of the shadow. All of a sudden, light flared and his strange vision changed back to normal. The shadow flower slipped straight through his fingers and fell back into the shadow, like water to the sea, mixed and lost forever.

  Even worse than that, somehow Jack was back in his usual, physical body – but he was where his shadow had been. Standing on Dock Road, with someone – something – holding the back of his neck.

  Desperately, Jack wriggled out of that grip, only to find himself taken by the arm and spun around to face Rennie. Her eyes were a fierce, glowing white, and though she spoke, her mouth didn’t move at all.

  ++You can cease searching, Jackaran Kresimir Shield,++ said the woman. ++You have found us!++

  ‘But – but you’re a person!’ he gasped, trying to pull away. The grip on his arm was immovable.

  ++All join us,++ said The Evil. Jack could feel the pressure of thousands of mostly animal and insect minds behind the words in his head. ++All desire to become one.++

  ‘No . . .’ said Jack. He tried to sound strong, but it came out weak. ‘I won’t join you! I won’t!’

  ++You will,++ said The Evil with a terrible, grim certainty. ++You brought us here, troubletwister. You and your sister broke the ward. Your inner nature wishes to join us – and if you do, you will become something far more powerful than any mere Warden.++

  ‘No,’ whispered Jack. ‘That’s not true. We didn’t . . . I don’t . . .’

  But inside he was wondering if he and Jaide had somehow broken the ward. What if their uncontrolled Gifts had done it without them even knowing? Grandma X said troubletwisters were dangerous. Maybe they’d done it and she hadn’t even known.

  A treacherous part of Jack wondered what the point of being a Warden was if they couldn’t stop a couple of children stuffing everything up . . .

  ++It is destiny, Jackaran. Your destiny. You will join us, and we will keep you safe and sound forever.++

  The Evil lifted Rennie’s right hand and brought it down to cup the top of Jack’s head.

  Jack felt the force of The Evil magnify a hundredfold, and knew that if it managed to grip his skull, his strength would fail. He couldn’t break free of the grip on his arm, so he didn’t even try. Instead he let himself flow away, all of him away, dropping into the shadow at his feet with his entire being.

  The Evil snatched as he fell, but it was too late.

  But Jack couldn’t move his physical self through shadow very far. Despite his desperate attempts to get away, he popped out only a dozen yards off. The Evil in Rennie’s body crossed the space in a blur of movement, far faster than anyone normal could run.

  Jack jumped as it struck, and went into the shadow again. This time, he controlled where he came out, behind a tree. The Evil had to go around, and in those few vital seconds Jack managed to sprint some distance. Even so, Rennie was on him again in a second, and he only just managed to reach another shadow before her hand closed on his ankle.

  He reappeared a handful of yards away, The Evil’s host right behind. They proceeded halfway along Dock Road that way, Jack jumping in and out of shadows with The Evil hot on his heels. Then it occurred to him that he didn’t have to follow the road at all. He could go anywhere the shadows took him, and as long as he reappeared in a new spot quickly enough to avoid being caught, he would escape.

  He found the shadow of a long tree branch that took him over a shop, almost as far as Watchward Lane, and shadow-jumped there. But the constant switching into shadow with his real body was incredibly difficult. His head was spinning, he felt sick, and he couldn’t focus his eyes.

  Even worse than that, he’d been gone longer than he thought possible. The sun was nearly down. When it set, the shadows would go, too. What that meant, he didn’t know. Would he be able to shadow-jump anywhere at all, or nowhere?

  ++Jackaran! Come back!++

  The cry came from Rennie’s throat, too, and the despair he heard in it was heartbreaking.

  Jack dived again, forcing himself along a shadow that led to Grandma X’s house. Too weak to go far, he popped out right in front of the gateway and fell facedown in the gravel.

  He had just got up and was crawling along the drive toward the front door when he heard footsteps behind him, a measured, steady crunching on the gravel.

  ‘Jaide!’ he shouted, but his voice was affected by shadow, and came out as only a weak croak. ‘Ari! Help!’

  ++Why are you running, Jackaran?++ asked The Evil inside his head. ++This isn’t a game.++

  Jack twisted around as white-eyed Rennie loomed above him. He tried to scramble back, but he was exhausted, all energy gone.

  ++Come here. Come to us.++

  ‘No, no!’ Jack shouted, steeling himself to resist the mental onslaught that he knew would overwhelm him in a few short seconds.

  Rennie knelt down and lowered her hand. Jack jerked his head aside and, at that instant, saw something flash over his head. There was an incredibly loud bong! and Rennie flew backwa
rd and landed heavily on her backside.

  ‘What the —?’ she said in normal tones. But then her voice faltered. Her eyes, which had momentarily cleared, clouded again and she rose up like a puppet pulled by unseen strings.

  Before Rennie could get fully upright, Jaide stepped forward and hit her again with a large silver tray. As she went down for the second time, Jaide threw the tray on top of her chest, grabbed Jack under the arms, and dragged him to the front door.

  As they half-ran and half-fell through the doorway, The Evil rose up inside Rennie. She was lifted high by its power and sent after them like a missile, her hands like claws, reaching out.

  Jack and Jaide screamed as she flew straight at them, both of them tangled up on the hallway rug, for the moment completely defenceless.

  Then Ari and Kleo slammed the door.

  There was a violent, shuddering impact. The whole house shook, and The Evil vented its anger with a piercing scream that filled the twins’ minds with images of raging fire and ice and destruction and unchanging death. It went on and on, then slowly faded, and finally they heard footsteps receding rapidly along the drive. They heard Rennie’s ordinary voice calling their names, as though searching for them, until that, too, faded into silence.

  ‘It’s gone,’ said Ari from the window. ‘For now.’

  Jaide and Jack pulled themselves up and looked at each other.

  ‘She almost got me,’ said Jack shakily.

  He was shivering and wild-eyed. Jaide had never seen him like this before, not even when he’d come back from the tunnels.

  ‘It wasn’t her,’ said Jaide. ‘It was The Evil. And besides, it didn’t get you. You’re safe now.’

  ‘I didn’t make it to the cemetery . . . or the lighthouse,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Neither of us did,’ said Jaide. ‘We’ll . . . we’ll think of something else.’

  Outside, the wind picked up, and a light rain began to fall, both harbingers of the coming storm.

  It was getting dark all over Portland, and would soon get darker still.

  BY MUTUAL, UNSPOKEN CONSENT OF children and cats, all four retreated to Grandma X’s bedroom, pausing only to pick up candles and matches from the kitchen. Though no one said it, they all hoped that she would somehow be awake and could take charge, that she would rescue them from The Evil.

  But Grandma X was still unconscious, and hadn’t shifted from her curled-up position on the bed.

  Kleo and Ari jumped up next to her and both licked her face. Jaide knelt down and took her hand, holding it tightly. Jack went to the window and looked out the rain-swept pane.

  ‘The lighthouse light hasn’t come on,’ he said. ‘I’d have thought it would have a generator, like the hospital.’ He peered through the glass again and added, ‘Actually, it looks like they’ve got the power on everywhere else, except for our bit and the lighthouse.’

  ‘The Evil has grown strong enough to command anyone who might come close,’ said Kleo. Her eyes glittered in the candlelight.

  ‘I’m sorry, Grandma,’ Jaide said quietly. ‘Sorry we didn’t trust you, and sorry if . . . if we brought all this trouble on you . . . on everyone.’

  Jack turned back from the window and knelt down next to Jaide. He put his hand over Jaide’s in what he hoped was a confident, comforting grip. He didn’t voice the resentment he felt for being in their position. He had never asked to be a troubletwister, and he certainly didn’t like the feeling that Grandma X had been keeping secrets from them. Perhaps his parents, too. Why hadn’t they said something?

  ‘We just want this to stop,’ he said. ‘Why won’t you help us?’

  Warmth blossomed under the twins’ hands, and a soft light spread between Grandma X’s closed fingers.

  ++Troubletwisters.++

  Jack jumped. The voice came to him the same way The Evil’s did, but it sounded like Grandma X, and it possessed none of the heavy pressure of that horrible presence.

  ‘Grandma?’

  ++Troubletwisters?++

  Jaide leaned close. Grandma X’s mouth wasn’t moving, but her voice was clear.

  ‘We’re right here, Grandma,’ Jaide said, holding more tightly to her hand. The cats pressed in close beside her. ‘Are you okay? What can we do to help you?’

  A wisp of light danced on the old woman’s forehead. There appeared a tiny version of Grandma X’s glowing, ghostly form. Her eyes were closed and her expression was pained, but her voice was clear inside Jaide’s and Jack’s heads.

  ++Lighthouse,++ whispered the voice. ++On the lighthouse.++

  ‘The lighthouse?’ Jack asked urgently. ‘Is the broken ward on the lighthouse?’

  ++Brass plate,++ said Grandma X. Her voice was fading and the shining figure was beginning to flicker. ++Brass plate.++

  ‘Wait, Grandma,’ said Jaide as Jack said, ‘Tell us more!’

  ++Replacement. Blue room.++

  The ghostly image vanished, along with the light shining from between Grandma X’s fingers. At the same time, there was a ripple of wind through the room, and all the candles guttered and went out.

  Jaide fumbled for matches and cried out, ‘Jack! Check the window!’

  ‘It’s shut,’ said Jack, who could see perfectly well.

  ‘Don’t panic,’ said Kleo. ‘That wasn’t the storm.’

  Jaide lit the candles and looked at Jack. He had an expression she had rarely seen before. It was one of determination underlaid by extreme fear.

  ‘We need to replace a brass plate on the lighthouse,’ he said, relieved to be sure of something finally. ‘And there’s a replacement in the blue room.’

  ‘Don’t count your sardines before the tin opens,’ said Kleo. ‘We’ll have to find it first, and that room is tricky.’

  ‘But at least we know where to look,’ said Jaide. ‘That’s half the battle.’

  ‘It is?’ asked Ari. ‘I would have thought it was more like ten per cent at most.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Jack. He was looking at the window frame. It was shuddering with the impact of wind and rain, and the storm had barely got started.

  Their arrival in the antique shop was met with a pronunciation from the crocodile skull.

  ‘One brass plate, three inches by four, fixed by four two-eighth screws fashioned entirely from silver.’

  ‘We know now,’ said Jack, tapping it on the top of its cranium. ‘Thank you, anyway.’

  ‘Where do we start looking?’ asked Jaide.

  ‘There’s an old toolkit over here,’ said Ari, leaping in one direction.

  ‘And I seem to recall a collection of brass signs in that box,’ said Kleo, pointing an elegant paw.

  The twins followed the cats’ directions, but while they did find a toolkit with various screwdrivers that would be useful for dealing with screws, silver or otherwise, the box of brass signs did not contain a brass plate.

  Nor did the chest that held a complete bronze dinner set, or the small cupboard with the horse brasses, or the sack with the tarnished white metal and lapis lazuli coffee demitasse cups, or the inside of the grandfather clock that had lost its pendulum and was now full of stacks of what Kleo assured them were gold florins of a long-ago French king.

  ‘There’s too much stuff here,’ said Jaide after another thirty minutes of fruitless searching, with the sounds of the storm growing steadily all the while. The house was groaning, and there had been several thuds outside, probably from more power poles blowing over or big trees losing their limbs. ‘We’ll never find it!’

  ‘I don’t suppose you can tell us,’ said Jack conversationally to the crocodile skull. ‘I might even let you bite my finger.’

  The skull’s eyes lit up, which was considerably more eerie in the dim candlelight than under electrical illumination, and its jaws snickered rat-a-tat-tat.

  ‘In the third drawer down on the left of the serpent-wound bureau of Indian teak,’ it said. Then it chattered a bit more, shivering itself along the table to orient its mouth
directly at Jack.

  Ari and Kleo were already at the bureau. Jaide followed them and opened the third drawer down on the left. She held her candle close and examined the contents.

  ‘It’s here, Jack,’ she said. Then she looked back. ‘I guess you’d better let it . . . try to . . . maybe just a nip . . .’

  Jack nodded and very carefully extended the tip of his little finger toward the crocodile skull. It lunged forward, right off the table, and managed to tear off a tiny flap of skin and a bead of blood before crashing to the floor.

  ‘Ouch!’ exclaimed Jack, sucking his finger.

  ‘Worth it,’ said Kleo. ‘Worth a whole finger, for that matter.’

  ‘Hey,’ protested Jack.

  ‘You’ve got lots,’ said Ari, ‘and those famous opposable thumbs. Besides, it’s only a scratch.’

  Jaide lifted out an open leather pouch that contained what she was sure must be the replacement ward. Everything was exactly as described by the skull. There was the brass plate, with its four silver screws, each in a little loop so they would not be lost. The screws had a strange spiral pattern instead of the usual straight groove or Phillips head.

  The plate was the right size, and its deeply etched words said:

  To all the Keepers of the Portland Light,

  past, present, and future, who serve to

  guard and ward against the darkness

  ‘That has to be it,’ said Jack, who had come to look over Jaide’s shoulder.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jaide. ‘Now all we have to do is get this to the lighthouse.’

  Jack was about to speak when the drumming bear suddenly started smashing at his drum and every single clock in the room began to strike wildly. The face of a barometer shattered, sending glass raining onto a chess set below. The white knight jumped out of the way, the king retreated behind his castle, and the white pawns moved in a panicky rabble.

  ‘The Evil!’ hissed Ari.

  The cat’s voice was lost in a sudden noise that was even louder and more threatening than the storm. A very deep, angry and mechanical bellow – the throbbing menace of some very big engine.