by Garth Nix
Jaide shut the leather wallet with the plate and screws and picked it and the toolkit up. Jack had paused to pick up the artillery shell cigarette lighter, but he was already lifting the tapestry that hid the secret passage while Ari zoomed through the doorway.
A minute later, they were crouched out on the widow’s walk once again, looking over the rails as the wind whipped at their clothes, the rain beat down on their heads, and water cascaded down their noses to join the rush from the gutters of the roof.
The throbbing engine noise was even louder than wind and rain.
‘Where’s it coming from, Ari?’ shouted Jack. ‘Oh . . .’
Ari had not come out of the conning tower structure that shielded the steps, and there was no sign at all of Kleo.
‘Down there,’ said Jaide, pointing into the yard of the abandoned house. ‘That’s where it’s coming from.’
‘But no one lives there,’ Jack said as he ran to see. ‘There are no cars.’
Two headlights suddenly flicked into life next door. The engine roared even louder and the stench of exhaust came up to the twins. Then a noise was added to the mix. A grinding, clanking rattle that got louder as the lights moved forward, toward them.
‘It’s not a car. It’s the bulldozer!’ Jack cried.
‘I guess The Evil isn’t going to wait for the storm to knock the house down,’ shouted Jaide over the racket. ‘Is that Rennie again?’
Jack peered out into the night as gears crunched. He couldn’t see the head of a driver in the cab. There was no one at the controls at all!
‘That’s impossible,’ said Jaide when he told her. ‘Although —’
‘What?’
‘Grandma did say that inanimate things become more lively when they’re around Wardens. Maybe when The Evil is strong enough, it’s the same!’
The bulldozer turned awkwardly on its tracks, shuffling backward like a bull backing up to make its charge. When it was lined up with Grandma X’s house, Jack was sure it would crash through the fence and keep on coming.
Jack grimaced as he saw that there was something in the driver’s seat. Hundreds of tiny shapes – crawling, linking limbs, straining to reach and pull at controls designed for humans —
Rats. Dozens of rats, forming the legs and arms of a human, without bothering to make a head.
‘It’s made a driver out of rats,’ said Jack.
Jaide shivered and with a trembling hand tried to shield her eyes against the glare of the dozer’s lights. But she still couldn’t see anything, and to her it looked like the bulldozer was moving of its own accord.
‘We have to stop it,’ yelled Jack. He had to talk close to Jaide’s ear so she could hear over the storm and the bulldozer. ‘If I can get behind it, I can climb on and into the cab. I’ll flame the rats with the cigarette lighter . . . and switch it off, or wreck something important.’
He swapped the artillery shell cigarette lighter to his left hand and scrabbled in the toolkit for a long screwdriver.
‘I can’t see anything,’ she said. ‘Those lights are too bright and everything else is too dark. There could be anything out there. Maybe you should stay inside – we could think of something else. . .’
Jack was watching the bulldozer carefully. Though it was frighteningly loud, it was also slow and ungainly and it wasn’t being driven very well. And if it took a lot of The Evil’s power to control the creatures driving it, then there was less chance of any nasty surprises in the dark nearby.
‘I can take care of it,’ said Jack firmly. He positioned his thumb ready to flip the top of the lighter and brandished the screwdriver like a sword in his other hand. ‘You get back to the blue room. Maybe there’s some other magic thing that will help. Ask the cats, wherever they’ve got to.’
‘But, Jack, I really don’t think —’
‘Go!’ said Jack. He ran to the front door, forcing himself to slow only minutely when his wet shoes slipped on the steps. Jaide hesitated, then ran back through the secret passage, into the relative safety of the blue room.
Jack hefted his two weapons and visualised himself cloaked in darkness. He imagined it wrapping around him, and after a moment, he felt a kind of soft, electric buzz along his exposed skin.
He opened the door and slid out into the night.
The roaring of the engine and the crunching of wood was horribly loud. The fence had resisted the bulldozer’s initial push, requiring two attempts. On the second, the curved steel blade successfully managed to sweep all obstacles aside, and the heavy, articulated tracks behind it crushed the wooden splinters into the ground.
Snorting and rumbling, the slow but fearsome machine crept onto Grandma X’s land and headed straight toward the house.
JAIDE COULD HEAR THE BULLDOZER clearly, even inside the blue room. She winced as she heard the fence get smashed to pieces and the grinding crunch as the machine’s metal tracks crushed the remnants flat.
‘There must be something here we can use against a bulldozer!’ she exclaimed. ‘Ari! Kleo! Think of something!’
‘Like what?’ asked Ari, peeking out from under the desk. ‘I don’t think Grandma X has a rocket launcher.’
‘Don’t grizzle, Aristotle,’ said Kleo. She was sitting in the middle of the room, slowly swivelling her head, bright blue eyes weighing up many possible things. ‘There are numerous defensive items here, but unfortunately we only know those devices Grandma X has employed in the past, and she hasn’t needed to use many. It has been very quiet in Portland since we were born.’
A smashing, tearing noise outside was a grim reminder that this was no longer the case.
‘What about you, then?’ Jaide asked the crocodile skull. ‘Is there something here that can stop that bulldozer?’
‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,’ chattered the crocodile skull. Its eyes flashed with excitement.
‘Well, where – and what – is it?’ demanded Jaide.
The crocodile skull clapped its jaws together.
‘Num num num num num,’ it said in a rather horrible parody of someone eating something nice.
‘Uh, okay, then,’ said Jaide. The skull had only taken a sliver of Jack’s finger. She could bear the same kind of scratch, if it got them the information they so desperately needed.
She held out the little finger of her left hand cautiously and leaned toward the skull.
It lunged forward, using its chattering to move, and its sharp teeth shut on Jaide’s finger halfway down the fingernail, nearly cutting off the entire tip of her finger.
Jaide stared down at the wound, too shocked to cry out or move or do anything. Blood started to drip down into her hand and onto the floor.
The crocodile skull crunched happily, burped, and said, ‘Music box made by Favre, for the discombobulation of The Evil. Tea chest with the mark of the blue oryx.’
‘Th-thanks,’ said Jaide weakly. She sat down in an armchair and pinched the end of her finger hard and raised her hand above her head to slow the bleeding. Susan had always made sure they had first-aid lessons.
‘I’ll get the first-aid kit,’ said Ari, and was off.
‘I’ll find the tea chest,’ said Kleo. ‘I think it’s behind the walnut wardrobe.’
Both cats leaped away. Jaide kept pressing on her bleeding finger, and flinched again as she heard the bulldozer outside change gear and bellow even louder than before, followed immediately by the screech of its blade sliding over stone or concrete.
Jack saw the rats straight away. They stood on their hind legs like prairie dogs behind the bulldozer’s controls, milky-white eyes focused firmly forward. Their heads didn’t turn as he slowly moved along the front of the house. Either they couldn’t see him or The Evil was completely absorbed in driving the bulldozer.
Jack kept his eye on them as he rounded the corner and started to make his way around the edge of the garden, circling wide to come back behind the bulldozer, concentrating hard on being part of the darkness. The vehicle lurched forward as he s
talked it. It was almost at the house now, but had been held up by the roots of the giant fir tree and the remnants of the fallen garden wall.
In fact, Jack saw that the tree roots were actively working against the bulldozer. There were far more of them out of the ground than when he and Jaide had run past on their first day, and the roots were much larger, some of them as thick as his body. The roots were slowly twining up out of the ground in front of the dozer, and carrying with them huge squares of sandstone that must have once been the foundation of the garden wall.
But even so, the bulldozer was winning. Its long, sharp blade was cutting through the roots, and pushing the rocks aside. It would only be a matter of minutes before it cleared a proper path of attack and smashed into the side of the actual house.
Jack steeled himself for what had to be done. Tucking the lighter under one arm and the screwdriver through his belt, he ran straight at the back of the bulldozer, through the acrid cloud of its diesel exhaust, and jumped up on the engine right between the clanking tracks. There were cooling slats on the engine, giving him somewhere to grip, but they were hot. Jack involuntarily cried out even as he swarmed up and over, and crouched behind the back of the cab.
The hideous, headless body made of rats stopped pulling levers and swung around toward him, dozens of white rat eyes focused on him.
Jack pulled the lighter from under his arm, flicked the lid open and directed a great gout of flame into the cab. Rats squealed, the headless body disintegrating as its smoking, burning parts fled in all directions.
The gas in the lighter suddenly ran out. It burped a few last flames, then Jack threw it aside, and edged into the cab.
The bulldozer continued its inexorable forward progress.
Jack reached out to take the control levers, not knowing whether to push or pull but willing to try everything until he made it stop.
++Yessss, Jackaran,++ said the familiar, hateful voice into his mind. ++Drive forward. Kill the witch!++
‘I’m not listening to you!’ Jack cried. Under his hands, the bulldozer stopped, turned, turned again, and started in reverse, heading once more for the house, only backward. ‘I don’t believe anything you tell me!’
++That is not true,++ said The Evil. ++We feel your doubt. We rejoice at your uncertainty. We know you will join us.++
There was power in The Evil’s voice. Jack felt it sliding into his brain, growing stronger and more convincing. It would be easy to give in. Maybe it would even be the right thing to do —
‘No!’ he shouted. ‘Shut up! I’ll never join you – never!’
The bulldozer turned again. Jack pushed and pulled on the levers, but no matter what he did, it wouldn’t stop. If it kept going, it was bound to crash into the house, bring down a wall, and then The Evil would swarm in —
‘Just stop, will you?’ Jack let go of the levers and looked at the dashboard. There was a slot that looked like it would have held a key. If he could jam the screwdriver in there, perhaps, and turn it . . .
He reached down to draw the screwdriver from his belt, and was suddenly stopped in mid-motion, as two strong arms wrapped themselves around him in an embrace so tight Jack couldn’t breathe.
It had to be Rennie returning to do The Evil’s will. Jack cursed himself for not keeping an eye out for the handywoman.
He kicked backward, but the grip didn’t ease.
++We have you now, Jackaran Kresimir Shield.++ The voice was like an icicle in his mind. ++You were foolish to try to resist us. Your inner self wants to join us. Relax, and let us help you help yourself.++
Jack tried to say no, but suddenly his mouth wouldn’t work. Spit drooled from his lips and his tongue felt numb.
He strained to fight, but barely managed to move a single finger before they all went dead.
++There. That’s better, isn’t it?++
Rennie eased her grip, and Jack slumped down, turning sideways as he did so.
Rennie smiled at him, an effect undermined by her white, staring eyes, the worms wreathed in her hair, and the rats coiled around her neck like a fat fur collar.
No, Jack wanted to say, it’s not better at all!
++Be still,++ The Evil told him. ++There is no point in struggling.++
The only feeling Jack retained was in the little finger the crocodile skull had bitten. He wriggled it, but felt no triumph. What could he do with one little finger?
++We know the old Warden is dying,++ said The Evil. ++We feel it. She cannot help you. Surrender. You know you want to give in.++
Jack moved his little finger again, stretching it out. The long screwdriver was thrust through his belt. It was a Warden screwdriver, an antique, made lively by long contact with Grandma X . . . If he could just touch it, maybe it would help him . . .
++Surrender to us, and we will let your sister go,++ said the insidious voice. ++We are not greedy. One troubletwister is enough.++
Jack didn’t hear the words, but he knew The Evil was thinking for now. If he did give in, surely it would just use his Gifts against Jaide. But it was so hard to keep resisting.
He could feel The Evil forcing itself further and further into his mind, paralysing more and more and more of his body. What was the point of fighting when he had lost the ability to fight at all?
++Perhaps this will help you decide,++ said The Evil.
Then it stopped his lungs.
The panic that Jack had just managed to keep under control burst free.
I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! The terrified thoughts raced through his body, but none of his limbs could respond.
Only Jack’s little finger moved. Fuelled by his intense fear, it managed to stretch impossibly far and touch the cold steel of the screwdriver.
The Evil’s control snapped the instant Jack made contact. The boy drew a great, shuddering breath that brought tears to his eyes. He drew the long screwdriver and dragged the point across Rennie’s hand, scratching her from the knuckles to the wrist.
She shrieked and let go. Jack threw himself forward, thrust the screwdriver into the bulldozer’s ignition, and twisted it as hard as he could.
There was a tremendously loud bang. Sparks flew everywhere. The engine coughed three times and died. The tracks clanked forward one more foot and locked in place.
The bulldozer was dead, but Rennie’s hands came scrabbling back, gripping Jack’s shoulders. He twisted desperately and slithered out the bottom of the cab, hitting the ground hard. But he was up again instantly, running for the house, the handle of the screwdriver hanging limply in his hand. The rest was gone, immolated doing its work against The Evil.
He’d just got to the front door when he heard the bulldozer’s tracks start to clank again, followed by the screech of its blade across the ground. Neither sound was accompanied by any engine noise.
Jack whipped around in astonishment.
++Come back, troubletwister,++ called The Evil, straight into his head. ++We will give you one last chance!++
Jack didn’t want another chance. No matter what he thought of Grandma X, he was sure The Evil’s plans for him were too terrible to imagine. He ran inside, slammed the door after him, and immediately collided with Jaide, who was right behind it. She had a white bandage on one finger, a small screwdriver and the leather case with the replacement plate were sticking out of the pocket of her jeans, and she was holding a beautiful golden box the size of a small book in her hands. The cats were by her side, Kleo on the left, and Ari on the right.
‘I killed the engine,’ said Jack. ‘But it’s started again!’
‘The Evil can make such things move of their own accord,’ said Kleo, ‘when it has sufficient lives to fuel it. It has grown strong.’
‘Very strong indeed,’ Ari agreed gloomily.
‘So we’ve had it,’ said Jack. ‘It’ll have the wall down in a few minutes, and the storm is getting worse!’
‘Not if this works,’ said Jaide. ‘I was just about to take it outside and start it up, but I wa
s worried about rats and stuff.’
‘The machine will be taking most of The Evil’s power,’ said Kleo. ‘It will have little left to attack us.’
‘All right, then,’ said Jaide. ‘Come on!’
‘Wait,’ said Jack. ‘What is that, anyway? And what happened to your finger?’
‘Later,’ said Jaide. ‘Open the door.’
‘We’re right behind you,’ said Ari, moving to put Jaide between himself and whatever lay outside. ‘After you, troubletwisters.’
Jack opened the door. Kleo raced out ahead of him, hissing in warning. There were a dozen rats, with glowing white eyes, on the porch, but none of them reacted to the cat’s presence. They crouched, frozen, staring fixedly at the approaching bulldozer.
Jaide opened the lid of the golden box, revealing a mass of rods and cogs. She set it down on the steps and took a butterfly key with enamelled blue wings out of her pocket. She put that in the keyhole in the front of the box and slowly wound the spring.
On the other side of the house, the bulldozer cleared its way through the roots and stones and began to back up for its final, lethal run against the house. With its blade raised and the clank of its tracks barely audible above the roar of the storm, it was a strange and eerie threat.
Jaide let go of the key, and the music box started playing.
The notes were pure and crystalline, and they rang out through the night as clear as bells. Jaide recognised the tune; she felt as though she had been listening to it her entire life, but she didn’t know what it was called.
As the music played, a series of tiny, jewelled figures sprang up from inside the box and began moving around the edges, telling the story of The Evil as it leaped from creature to creature in its bid to take over the world. Tiny insects were first, then small animals, then people. A miniature steam train with glowing red lanterns raced ahead of a storm with bloody lightning – machines and weather – followed by something Jaide couldn’t interpret: a white circle with nothing but black inside. It rolled around the insides of the box like a soap bubble before sinking back into the innards, and the cycle began anew.