Rose’s eyes beamed beneath a frown, and she spoke to the ceiling, calmly. “You’ve had your fun, Orwell. Now let us go. We need to be leaving now. We need to find our mother.”
“But where’s the fun in that? No… we’re not finished. Our adventures have only just begun.”
Rose gave herself a moment to think, remembering Lily’s words from earlier: there’s always a way.
“Hello, there,” said Orwell. “Another captive to join our party. I think you’ll enjoy this.”
The twins stared at the screen. A man sprinted, glancing behind him. His movement resembled Stanley’s frightened effort. He also appeared familiar, and soon enough, the man came into focus. Shane ran from a similar beast that had chased Stanley, perhaps even bigger and more vicious.
“I know you don’t care for this man. From your reaction alone, you despise him. Why I’m not sure – I do wonder…”
Shane came to a sudden halt. He stood on the edge of a deep, treacherous pit filled with arm-length spikes that would tear him apart, just like the beast, given the chance.
“You’re evil,” said Rose.
The beast stopped and strolled from side to side, as if waiting for a signal.
“You can save him,” said Orwell. “That is, if you wish to. I can create a bridge. One push of a button, he needn’t be mutton. You have one minute to decide.”
Time ticked, and Rose did not give an answer.
Twenty seconds and counting, yet she remained tight-lipped, watching the screen intensely. Shane’s face was an image of terror; the kind of torment he took great pleasure in.
Thirty-five seconds.
The beast continued to stalk its prey, closing in, relishing the prospect of a paw-licking feast.
“Fifty-five… fifty-six… fifty-seven… fifty-eight…”
“Make a bridge,” said Rose firmly.
“Rose!” snapped Lily. “He wants us gone – the Govern, remember!”
“No, it’s the right thing to do. Make it.”
A stone bridge appeared, and Shane dashed over it while the beast gave a mighty roar.
“Good having power, isn’t it?” said Orwell. “To take or give a life. It’s what I live for. It made me the man I am today.”
Rose stood. “You call yourself a man? I call you a coward.”
“And I call you a flaming, rotten, dirty piece of –”
Chssss!
A sound from the second screen interrupted Lily.
“You’re right. We’ve played enough,” said Orwell, a voice without godly proportion; it came from the television speakers.
Within a dimly lit room, Orwell sat on grand throne, lit by moonlight from behind. He was dressed in black with an abundance of jewels and wore a white frilly ruff around his neck and cuffs. His elbows rested on the armrests while he spread his white-gloved fingertips over the tabletop.
A monkey, two-foot tall, climbed from behind the throne and down Orwell’s arm to sit on the table. Its clothes matched Orwell’s. The most striking feature of both were their faces, or lack of. They both wore shiny white masks, but Orwell’s eye sockets shone two beams of light into the camera lens.
“I’m sorry we never got properly acquainted. Both Ike and I sincerely hope you’ve grown from your experiences. However… I’ll be greeted by many other guests, maybe better mannered ones, so I must make way for my next dreamers and screamers. I’m afraid there isn’t room for you here any more. I do hope you understand: your time is at hand.”
Ike displayed his teeth and stared closely into the lens, rocking the camera with excitement. “Eeeek! Ah-ah!”
Rose slowly shook her head. She grimaced helplessly at the second TV screen. The picture displayed was rendered in high contrast, with the centre in focus surrounded by blurred edges. The view was of vertical bars close to the ground that gently swayed, as if they were seeing through the eyes of another being.
Orwell placed his hand on a switch and gave it a flick. The bars rose, and the image moved forward, step by step. Orwell’s shiny mask filled the picture. “It’s time for you to meet our guests,” he said. “Go play. Show them what it means to be alive today…”
The image swayed from left to right, inches from the ground. It hurried through the door and down the corridor to reach the grand stairs, pausing for a moment, before racing down.
“It’s coming for us,” uttered Rose.
“Orwell, tell it to stop,” ordered Lily.
Nothing.
Orwell sat still, hands clenched, staring into the camera.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Mastermind
Something was on the move. Rose frantically searched the burrow for another exit and kept an eye out for weapons. She gave a sudden glance at the television, watching the image display the last step of the grand staircase, followed by the main entrance doors. Clearly, whatever it was knew where to go, and did so, quickening its pace. It dashed through the courtyard, leaping over a wall twice the size of Rose. Wooden doors appeared, the kind used for storm shelters.
“It’s here,” said Rose, backing up into the far corner.
“Give me a better view,” said Lily. Rose did just that.
The servant of Orwell breathed deeply and gurgled saliva. Claws scraped against the timber. All sounds were muted for a brief moment, followed by an almighty crash.
The wooden doors shattered and the hairy beast entered, sniffing the air. It featured a sculpted gold helmet, perfectly shaped to fit its snout and two horns. Two bright golden eye sockets lit the steps as it hunted a scent.
“Think fast,” said Rose, unsure which way to run and how to bypass the beast to flee outside.
Lily focused her mind, but nothing came: no sensation or control. The creature appeared to be immune from Lily’s mind grasp. The rat in the burrow had been easy prey by comparison. “I don’t get it, why can’t I?”
Rose dashed to the opposite side, encouraging the beast’s hunger to feast. It gave chase and leapt, swiping through Lily and within a finger’s reach of Rose’s spine. It slid on the dirt and staggered into a wooden pillar, snapping it in half. Off balance, the creature shook it mane and began to regain its composure, targeting its fodder once more.
During the dodge, Lily managed to see the helmet, including the brackets that fitted the gold to its snout. Keep dodging, Rose, she said in her mind. Keep your distance!
A smell lingered in the air, reminding Rose of a rotting compost heap. She braced herself and pushed off with her feet, sprinting towards a wooden pillar, keeping it between them and their approaching ravenous mauler.
Lily seized her opportunity, focusing on one of the golden straps. It swung open, flapping as the creature made another swipe at Rose, carving through strands of hair, then stretched for another razor-sharp slash. Rose dodged for her life, and the beast engraved the stone wall, sharpening its claws.
Lily caused the second strap to fall loose while Rose scrambled up the steps, hopped through the entrance and rushed outside.
It followed.
From behind leaves and branches, Rose watched the helmet sway. The creature rose onto its hind legs and sniffed the air.
The third and final strap swung open; now only gravity held the helmet in place. Lily raised it off to a roar of disapproval. It fell onto the ground with a clunk, rolling amongst the marshmallows.
Hurry, sis, said Rose in her mind, with her eyes shut and fists clenched.
She delved into the beast’s mind, which she could grasp like a ball; the tighter the grip, the greater the control.
The growls came to an abrupt end, replaced by noisy breathing. Then the beast bowed its head, subdued, as if greeting its master.
Rose peeked and saw the beast retreat. “You did it,” she said quietly, not wanting to break her sister’s concentration, who began to display her influence by moving the beast back from where it came.
Back inside the burrow, Rose viewed the screens. The left one displayed the creature making its wa
y through the courtyard. The right displayed Orwell gripping the table edge, leaning forward, while Ike cried out to his master.
Over the wall, through the entrance and into the mansion, Lily remembered the way. The door the beast had roamed from was closed. There was a short run-up, but enough for a creature of its stature and strength to overcome the obstacle. It leapt and pounded on the door; the timber fractured and splinted as it came crashing through. The night air swept over the beast’s mane as Orwell fled out of the window across the rooftops, gone from sight and into the night.
Ike leapt onto the windowsill, holding a thin golden tube in his tiny hands, and gave a shriek. Then he too abandoned the room.
The door to the creature’s abode, a den filled with carcasses and raw meat, remained open. The beast rose onto its back legs and leant over the table. It lifted its hefty paw, dragging the switch downwards. Within seconds, it had dashed inside the den before the bars shut with a clunk.
Rose sighed with admiration. “Well done,” she said. “Sis… can you hear me? Can – ah!” she gasped, clutching her head.
“Told you, Mister. Don’t mess with me,” said Lily, arriving back into her own elated mind.
Rose took three deep, soothing breaths before standing upright, slightly off balance. “That must be the control centre. We must be able to free Bella Air – somehow,” she said, and made her way outside, following the deep paw prints.
* * *
Orwell’s throne featured at the far end of a grand room. The interior housed the largest table ever seen, awash with grids, numerals and letters. The entire room was engulfed in controls, switches and levers, most of which were coated with gold.
“How do you think we remove the bars?” asked Rose.
“How should I know?” said Lily. “But I know a man that might.”
“I hope he’s okay. We should get –”
“Out of here?” said a familiar voice. Stanley stepped from the roof and through the window.
“Stanley!” cried Rose.
“Yes, quite. I think I’m ready to leave, how about you?” he asked, dusting off a collection of leaves and twigs.
Growl!
“Jeez-ahoy!” yelped Stanley, darting behind the throne.
“It’s all right, Stanley, we trapped it,” said Rose.
“I… trapped it,” corrected Lily.
“Of course,” he said, standing tall, “I knew that. Good work, girls, good work. Only, I’ve seen enough of them to last a lifetime. No, make that two.”
Brunel came flying through the window to land on Stanley’s shoulder. “Pheeeeew! Time to go! Time to go!”
“Where the bloody hell have you been?” he grumbled. “Some help you were.”
Brunel bopped his head and fluttered his feathers. “Amnesh alive! Amnesh alive! Pheeeeew! Good work!”
“You’d better believe it,” he said, hands on hips. “Takes more than a rotten, breathy mutt to bring down the Hopkins. Now… not a moment to waste – Bella Air awaits!”
“We can’t,” said Lily. “The vessel’s surrounded by bars, remember?”
“Bella’s behin–? Ah yes, of course, and they shall be removed.” With his fingertips he roamed the tabletop, proceeding to tinker with switches, reconfiguring and muttering to himself. “Latitude… Longitude… Material… Set to remove, and… hey presto!”
“You did it?” asked Rose.
“Well, yes… probably.”
“Probably?” said Lily. “I thought you knew this stuff.”
“I do, but you never know with this place. Right, let’s get out of here,” he said, and leaned out of the window. “Bella Air will fly tonight, I can feel it. If she isn’t free I’ll… I’ll…” Stanley froze. “Bella… she’s up – she’s airborne!” he bellowed, grasping the brim of his hat with both hands. “Those dirty, filthy, no good –”
“Stanley!” cried Rose and leapt in front of him, tugging his jacket. “We have to go somewhere they can see us. They won’t leave without us. I know it.”
“Right. Then let’s hurry, this way.” He placed his right foot onto the window ledge, but couldn’t proceed for the black tentacles that reached inwards. The Govern slid through the window, narrowly missing Stanley’s nostrils as he instinctively dropped to the ground. “Run!” he shouted, scrambling to his feet and led Rose through the shattered door.
Lily watched their formidable foe slither inside. Her attention was brought to the splinted wood, which she rejoined; like magic, the entrance became intact, without a scratch, and slammed shut behind her and locked.
Down the grand staircase they scrambled, towards the main entrance. Lily shut and locked this door too as they fled out of Orwell’s mansion of malice.
While sprinting, Rose glanced at the night sky, witnessing the vessel flicker in and out of sight through the tree branches. As she descended the stone steps behind Stanley, she gritted her teeth, adjusting her balance so she wouldn’t fall flat on her face. The steps seemed to never end.
“Over the bridge, quickly,” said Stanley.
On the other side, the vessel hovered, moving towards a hilltop. Stanley led the way up the slippery grassy bank. Suddenly, surrounded by thick vegetation and sheltered from the preying Govern, his mouth gasped open.
“What are you waiting for?” asked Rose. “What’s the matter?”
He gripped his thigh.
“What is that?” cried Rose, seeing a golden dart embedded in his flesh.
“Keep moving,” said Stanley. “Follow… Brunel to the top, they may…” He paused, appearing to force his eyes open. “They may see us there…” he slurred.
The peak of the hill was a short sprint away. The twins listened to the droning of Bella Air overhead while Stanley watched the ground.
“Rose!” shouted a bandit. “Take the ladder!”
The rope ladder drifted over a steep drop. Rose was torn between their lifeline and Stanley. Worse was what landed directly between them and Bella Air. It remained poised, almost too still, as if waiting for its prey to commit to their fatal action.
Stanley leaned on a tree for support, hands reaching towards Rose, shooing her away from the devourer. “We must – go back,” he said finally. “Find another way.”
“We can’t, look,” said Lily, observing more Govern gliding along the terrain like black ghosts.
He pushed himself from the tree trunk, took hold of Rose’s shoulders and forced out, “Lil– can you do any–thing?” He dropped to one knee.
“I’ll try.” She stared at nearest one, but not an ounce of grasp came to her; as if there wasn’t a soul to inhabit.
Without warning, a gift from a god blessed their entrapment. The Govern at the hilltop became caged behind steel bars. The echo of their haunting cries spread throughout the forest; they appeared to be calling out to each other. The jailed one pressed against the bars and stretched, straining further and further to take hold of Rose, to no avail.
Stanley stumbled up the hill with the twins in tow, and proceeded around the cage to the vessel’s ladder with two metres of cliff edge to spare. He then used his frail strength to hoist Rose onto the ladder, before joining her, dangling, and fought to hang on; but not enough. His grip loosened. He fell.
With her mind, Lily gripped Stanley by his waist in mid-air. He flopped, limply, over the fifty-foot drop and was lifted towards the vessel’s edge, where bandits’ arms reached out. Spike took hold, dragging him on board.
Once the twins were on deck, a plethora of cages sprang up and caught Governs left, right and centre. Their screeches were high pitched and animalistic. Lily questioned who was in the control room, making it happen.
“Stanley, wake up. Stanley!” said Rose.
“Mo,” said Spike. “I think he’s poisoned.”
“Take the wheel, Braid.” Mohawk dashed away from his captain duties and knelt at Stanley’s side. He examined the dart, then pulled it out. Worried onlookers winced, adverting their eyes from the dripping blood.
The dart was placed under his ultra-sensitive nostrils. He sniffed once, twice, three times. “Tranquiliser. He’ll be fine,” said Mohawk, clutching Rose’s shoulder. “Let him sleep it off. Curls, dress the wound.”
“Sure.”
Rose exhaled with a smile.
“Now let’s get out of this mess,” declared Spike.
“Good job, you guys,” said Lily.
Mohawk nodded before explaining: “We had to board and take flight the moment the bars were removed. The Govern had spotted us. I hope we didn’t scare you too much,” he said, and observed his merry bandits. “Now catch your breath, everyone, we’re out of here,” he added to a grand cheer, while Stanley gave a reassuring snore.
“We made it, sis,” said Rose softly.
“Yes…” she replied. “Now, wasn’t there someone to visit?”
Rose smiled and slowed her breathing to a moderate level.
Lily looked out to the sky as the black clouds began to disperse. Then she noticed something else, a blackness that didn’t disappear: it thickened.
“Govern! Dead ahead,” bellowed Quiff, high up on the mast.
Rose jumped to her feet and raced to the vessel’s edge. A mass of black engulfed the skyline.
“What now, Mo!” urged Spike.
“I…”
“I know!” said Lily, with eyes baring down upon her. “Rose, let’s teleport. Stanley charged the teleport!”
“Right.” Rose sprinted to the control chamber lever and she, Lily and Mohawk went down below deck.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” said Mohawk, steadying the wheel and observing the threat through the scope.
“I hope so too,” said Rose. “The co-ordinates first – right, sis?”
“Yes, they should still be stored there.”
Rose pressed the switch. Silence. “Nothing…” she uttered.
“Try again,” said Mohawk.
“Wait, we also need our co-ordinates,” said Rose.
“Try it,” said Lily.
“This one, I think.” Rose pressed a button and a set of numbers flickered into view on the dashboard.
“Quickly!” cried a voice on deck. “Whatever you’re doing, make it happen fast!”
“Rose,” said Mohawk calmly, making brief eye contact. “Now would be a good time.”
She gripped the lever and pulled it.
Twin Spirit Page 16