Eldritch Manor Read online

  Willa’s head snapped back as she woke with a little snort. She clapped her hands over her mouth but Horace looked back at her and smiled.

  “Had enough? Should we head home?”

  “No, no. Sorry. I’m fine, we can stay.”

  Horace was wearily getting to his feet. Willa jumped up to help him. “Quite all right. I believe I’m finished here.”

  Willa was surprised. “But what did you see? I didn’t see anything, apart from a few birds.”

  “That’s what augury is. The signs can be very simple, very subtle. Often just the comings and goings of birds. The direction, speed, numbers, species … it all means something.”

  Horace rubbed his forehead a little, chagrined. “It’s been a good five hundred years since I’ve attempted this, so I’ve lost some of my skill for precise prognostication … but generally, here’s what I see.” His voice dropped lower and lower and Willa leaned close to hear.

  “Something coming. Darkness and cold swirling in from all directions. A dam about to burst. Walls giving way to great power and force. And darkness. Everywhere, in everything I see darkness. It’s coming.”

  His voice cracked and fell into silence. He looked down at the ground and his breathing was laboured. Willa said nothing, but took his arm and they turned toward home.

  They descended the hill in thoughtful silence, branches crackling underfoot, Horace in front and Willa reaching out to take his arm every time he stumbled. At the bottom they stepped back onto pavement and paused in a pool of streetlight. The city was deathly still, TV light flickering in the windows of the houses around them, and a wispy fog creeping in.

  Horace looked around, slowly turning to take in the whole scene.

  “Horace? What’s wrong?”

  He turned, startled, and looked at her in surprise. “Oh! Excuse me miss, but what street is this?”

  Willa stared at him. Was he joking? No, he was looking at her with a polite smile on his face. They stood there for a long moment. Willa’s heart was in her throat. “Horace. It’s me. Willa.”

  Horace looked steadily at her and blinked a couple of times. Then he took a step back, out of the harsh glare of the streetlight. His face fell into shadow.

  “Yes, Willa, sorry, I’m ... I’ve just gotten turned around. Which way did we come?”

  Willa pointed the way and he started off. She followed slowly, stunned. She’d seen that look many times before, when Horace paused and blinked like that. And now she knew what it meant. He was forgetting things and covering it up. Her heart sank. She hurried to catch up to him.

  “Horace, can you call Miss Trang? You said you could, can you call her right now?” She was trying not to sound too eager. “You can call her, right?”

  Horace didn’t look at her as he answered. “Yes ... yes, of course I can. It’s just a matter of ... well, it’s rather hard to explain. I’ll ... I’ll do it when we get back. Or maybe in the morning....” His voice trailed away and he quickened his pace.

  The fog was growing thicker. They walked through the silent streets, sometimes in light and sometimes in darkness. Willa knew he was covering up again. He didn’t want to admit he couldn’t remember how to call Miss Trang. Willa felt alone, she felt very alone. She longed for someone else to be in charge. She could help, she could do whatever she was told to do. Anything would be better than everything being so uncertain. She felt like danger was all around, but she didn’t know what kind of danger or what they could possibly do to escape it.

  As they turned the final corner Willa’s thoughts were interrupted by the sight of the house blanketed in heavy fog and darkness, a cloud of black birds floating overhead.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dark intruders

  Willa quickened her pace, her heart pounding. All the streetlights around the house were out. It was as if a dark veil had been dropped over their corner of the street. Above them hosts of large black birds wheeled silently. The front fence was crowded with them as well. Behind them the bushes were dotted with little sparrows.

  As Willa drew closer, she slowed to a stop. She could now see that the sparrows weren’t perched there, they were dead and impaled, a spare branch poking out from every still breast.

  The bigger birds shifted from foot to foot, watching Willa steadily. The only sound was the rhythmic scrape scraping of their bills rubbing together, like blades being sharpened.

  Horace caught up to her and Willa clutched his arm. They edged cautiously past the birds and up the front walk. Lights glowed dimly inside. There was a sudden familiar screech from inside the house.

  “Belle! Are you all right?” Willa called out, the door banging shut behind her.

  She received no answer, but the ruckus continued from upstairs. It was just another row between Belle and Robert. The light fixtures shook from the impact of his stamping about, and shadows danced everywhere.

  Horace leaned to peer at the black pool in the corner. It had grown, a thin tendril of darkness inching up the wall, following the house’s corner seam. And that wasn’t all. As Willa looked about she began to see tiny black spots here and there on the ceiling, in the corners, at the base of the stairs. She tugged on Horace’s sleeve, silently pointing. He blinked and nodded as he took them in, looking lost and old.

  Suddenly Robert appeared, crashing down the stairs in a high rage as Belle glared down from the top step. “Harpy! Crone! Shrew!” he roared.

  Belle responded with a rather unbecoming raspberry. Horace meekly stood aside as Robert careened toward them, but Willa stood her ground, holding up her hands in entreaty.

  “Robert! You can’t go now! Please listen to me. Something is coming. Something awful!”

  Robert scowled down at her. Belle screeched from the top of the stairs, “Let the old scoundrel go. Good riddance!”

  Willa heard scratchy skittering sounds from all around. The black spots along the baseboards were growing larger. She took a deep breath.

  “STOP FIGHTING!”

  Sudden silence. Everyone turned to her in surprise. The only sound was a click-click-clicking. Willa turned to see Mab in the parlour, eagerly taking in all the action from the dollhouse roof as she knitted, her scarf hanging halfway down to the floor. Willa cleared her throat.

  “I need to tell all of you about Horace’s augury.…”

  Belle interrupted with a snort. “Augury. What a load of garbage!”

  Willa’s attention was suddenly caught by a black spot trickling darkness down the wall. She spun around to glare up the stairs at Belle.

  “BELLE! Fighting makes the spots worse! Can’t you see that?”

  Silence. Willa looked around at them all, at the end of her rope. “I am sick and tired of everyone arguing all the time!” She jabbed a finger at the stain on the wall. “This ... is ... serious! Just listen, will you?”

  Belle sat back, too surprised to sulk. Instead she eyed the dark stain and kept quiet. Willa took another breath and continued, outlining quickly what Horace had told her earlier. She let everyone take it in for a moment before going on.

  “I’m pretty sure everything he saw is true. I mean, look at the blackness everywhere. And the birds out there. Where did they come from?”

  “Butcher birds,” offered Horace. “Nasty, pestilential things. They’re not from the Other Side, but they tend to show up wherever dark forces are gathering.”

  Willa began to pace, her mind racing. “So the dark spots are signs that … something … is coming. And the birds are another sign. We don’t know who is coming, or what, or why, but it’s definitely bad news. Right?”

  Everyone nodded silently. From the darkness at the top of the stairs Belle spoke up, her voice softer, more fearful. “We’ve got to call Miss Trang.”

  “She’s conferring with the Grand Council,” said Horace. “They’ll need to hear about this as well. I’m sure they have no idea … I’ll ... I’ll call her.” But as he started up the stairs there was a sudden sharp thud.

  “The offi
ce,” mouthed Willa, pointing to the door. Everyone gathered behind her as she gingerly took hold of the doorknob. Steeling herself, she swung the door open.

  The room was upside down, desk drawers scattered about, papers, files, and books all over the floor. In the middle of the mess three black cats were feverishly searching through it all. The creatures spun to face them. Willa was shocked to see they had human faces, with enormous black eyes growing larger and larger. They withdrew their weird long fingers from the papers and advanced, arching their backs and hissing.

  Baz was the first to react. She pushed her way past Willa and pounced on the nearest cat with a shriek. The other two quickly fell back, scrambling toward the far wall, which was peppered with holes and torn wallpaper. As they escaped into the wall there was a sudden loud skittering noise and spiders began pouring out of the holes, large, gangly creatures with eight-inch legs. With a fearful clattering they quickly covered the walls, ceiling, and floor.

  Willa pulled back in terror, but Robert let out a great roar and pushed through them to enter the room. He thundered around, trampling the insects with heavy hooves. Everything shook.

  Tengu followed next, howling and stomping. Mab buzzed in swinging a straightpin sword, which she thrust into the nearest spider. Horace thwacked at them with the fireplace shovel.

  Willa armed herself with an ornate doorstop from the hall and began slamming it down on one insect after another. They crumpled, their legs crimping like wires.

  Belle held the last line of defence in the hallway, wheeling deftly over any insects that tried to escape the office.

  The combined offensive held the spiders back, but only just. A loud clanging sounded in the living room and Willa ran in to find Fadiyah crashing wildly into the bars of her cage. Willa opened the cage door, and in a flash of gold and red the bird joined the others in the office, screaming and ripping the spiders apart with her claws and bill.

  The scene was absolute chaos. Tengu climbed the upended furniture to dive into the fray. The golden bird razed through the insects on the ceiling, ripping them apart and tossing the pieces aside. The birds outside thumped into the windows, threatening to break the glass. Robert swung around, hip-checking Baz into the corner. Willa ran to help her. A cut over one eye was bleeding profusely but she just grinned and got back to work.

  Finally it was over. Dead spiders littered the floor as the last few living ones fled, disappearing back into the holes.

  Robert leaned against the desk, breathing heavily but beaming. He roared with laughter. “Those little beggars will think twice about coming back!”

  Tengu sat on the floor, panting. Willa was out of breath too and shivering uncontrollably. The golden bird landed suddenly in front of her, startling her, and looked deeply into her eyes. Willa felt calmer, and found her voice.

  “Is everyone all right?”

  Baz crouched in a corner with a spider in her mouth, which she shook furiously.

  “Oh, for goodness sake, Baz. Drop it. Drop it!” barked Belle from the hall. Baz reluctantly let the spider fall. Blood was still dripping from the cut on her head.

  Willa looked around anxiously. “Where’s Mab?”

  They found her weakly trying to free herself from a spider web over the doorway. Robert reached up and gently pulled her free, passing her down to Willa. Willa stared at the tiny form in her hand, uncertain about what to do. Mab gestured and Willa leaned her ear close.

  “Keep my scarf safe,” Mab whispered. “Keep it safe!”

  “I will, I promise,” answered Willa with a smile.

  They returned her to the dollhouse. Willa tucked her into bed, uncertain of what else could be done. She gathered the knitting needles and silvery scarf from where they’d been dropped and tucked them under the fairy’s bed.

  Mab let out a wheezy cough and fell into a deep sleep. Willa felt sick at heart.

  “I will call Miss Trang,” Horace announced and started slowly up the stairs. Willa watched him go, her fingers crossed.

  “You can do it, Horace. I know you can,” she said softly.

  In the parlour the others were all talking at once. The action seemed to have aroused everyone’s fighting spirit. Robert crowed about their victory and Tengu hopped about grinning and cheering. Belle was flushed and bright-eyed but cautious.

  “It isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot,” she ventured, and Willa felt inclined to agree.

  Belle was struggling to tie a hastily made cardboard cone around Baz’s head while the old lady hissed and tried to pull away from her.

  “It’s for your own good,” chuckled Belle. “If you keep scratching at it the cut will never heal.” The sight of Baz sulking in her cone cheered Belle up considerably.

  Willa dropped wearily onto the couch. “Those cats, or whatever they were, were looking for something. What could they want?” No one had an answer.

  “All right, we’ve got to get ready for whatever’s coming next. We need to marshal our forces.” Willa looked around the room. “Aren’t all of you magic in some way? What kind of spells can you do?”

  “We’re retired, dearie,” explained Belle, as the others exchanged embarrassed looks. “Have been for a long … LONG time. It was a rule of this place not to go exercising magic willy-nilly all over the place. You can’t expect us to remember anything useful now.” To Willa’s dismay this seemed to be the general consensus.

  “Oh, come on now! You’re always bragging about charms and spells and things ... all of you. There must be some kind of magic you can do here,” she appealed.

  Tengu was scratching his head. “Hand-to-hand, mortal combat is more my thing. EeYAWWW!” He struck a pose, fists cocked. From behind Belle whacked him in the head with a sofa cushion and he retreated in a sulk.

  Willa peeked into the cone. “Baz? Please. Anything at all.”

  “I know a million spells,” exclaimed Baz, her face lighting up. “Let me see now ... curdling milk, straightening curls, opening locked doors, clouding clear waters, removing stains, curing bunions, turning wine into water ...”

  “What?!” exclaimed Robert, aghast. “Reprehensible!”

  Baz went on. “I know how to make someone’s hair fall out. I can give someone the hiccups. I can make toast fall with the buttered side up.”

  “You know a million useless spells,” Robert snorted. Baz fixed an angry eye on him.

  “Okay, Robert. What about you then?” Willa turned hopefully to the centaur.

  “I don’t deal in silly little spells — hic!” Robert frowned. “My charms and incantations are more serious in natur — HIC!” He stomped a hoof. “HIC! Baz! HIC! Undo this. HIC! ImmediateHIC!”

  Tengu giggled wildly. Baz rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. Robert breathed easily again.

  “You were saying,” Willa prompted.

  “I was saying that my particular skills involve bigger things ... forces of nature and whatnot.”

  “For example?”

  Here Robert looked a little less certain. “Err ... lights at night, the nocturnal proclivities of woodland animals, rainbows, bird migration, phases of the moon ...”

  “You can control the phases of the moon?”

  “Control? No. Not as such.” Robert frowned. “But knots in a rope can change the weather.”

  “Only rope braided from unicorn hair,” corrected Baz. Robert nodded sadly.

  “A nail in the pocket guards against pixies,” offered Tengu. “But I suppose that doesn’t help us much.”

  “Not really.” Willa turned to Belle, who was being unusually quiet. “What about you, Belle? What can you do?”

  But the mermaid just stared at the floor, she wouldn’t meet Willa’s gaze. “Nothing specific. Curses. But I don’t do them anymore.”

  Willa shook her head. This was getting them nowhere. “Come on,” she sighed. “Let’s try to block up the holes in the office.”

  They got to work moving the desk and bookshelves against the wall full of holes. As they worked, Wi
lla peered out the window. She saw no sign of the butcher birds, but the fog was so thick she couldn’t be sure they were gone. Once the wall was adequately barricaded they couldn’t think of anything else to do, so everyone headed up for bed.

  Willa took the first shift keeping watch. She wandered nervously around the house. She listened at the library door to Horace mumbling and pacing. For a long while she stared in at Mab, who seemed to be resting all right.

  Willa stood on the back steps and breathed in the night air. The yard was dark and silent, no sign of butcher birds. It was so still it was hard to believe what had just happened in the house. She tiptoed through the misty yard toward Dinah, feeling guilty about forgetting her in all the excitement.

  Dinah was awake, which was pretty unusual. Willa foraged around for greenery to feed her but she didn’t seem interested in food, which was also pretty unusual. Dinah seemed anxious, snuffling at Willa and trying to put her head under her hands. Willa finally stopped and gently stroked her neck. The dinosaur blinked at her questioningly, so Willa told her what had happened.

  “They come out of the walls, and we’re not sure when they’ll come again. I think we’ll be all right, but I’m not totally sure.”

  Dinah hung her head so heavily, it nearly knocked Willa over. Willa looked her straight in one big eye.

  “Would you like to help us fight them?”

  Slowly, the great head moved up and down slightly. Willa held her breath. She’d never before felt that Dinah could understand her words.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Dinah slowly swung her head away. Shuffling her feet awkwardly, she lay down again with a heavy thump and a wheeze. Willa turned away, thinking sadly that the dinosaur would probably not be able to put up much of a fight, no matter how willing she was.

  Of course that goes for all of us, she thought glumly.