‘Not all parts of the castle are public,’ Ratty said darkly. ‘Remember what I said about some of it being shut away?’
Despite the warmth beating down on her, Tanya felt the tiny hairs on her arms stand up. ‘Which part?’ Somehow, she knew what Ratty was about to say before the words were even out of his mouth.
‘The dungeons.’
9
Gone
‘IF THE DUNGEONS ARE OUT OF BOUNDS, how did you and your father get in?’ Tanya asked. ‘Surely you didn’t send Turpin to steal a set of the castle keys?’
‘No,’ said Ratty. ‘Although that might have been easier. We got in through an old well. About halfway down the shaft before you hit the water there’s an entrance to a tunnel. The tunnel connects it to the dungeon.’
They had been walking for some time now, largely in silence, apart from snatches of conversation here and there as each of them gathered their thoughts. They had cut across the meadows by a faster route than before, passing the castle at a distance, and were now in sight of the bridge over Nessie Needleteeth’s spot on the river.
Ratty strode quickly and stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched in determination. He had decided to go back to the van and pack a bag while waiting for his father. With little time to think about it, Tanya had followed, and Ratty had neither invited nor discouraged her. Her mind was spinning, thoughts tumbling over each other and fighting for her attention. At the forefront was everything Ratty had told her and the danger he was in. At the back, she felt a creeping sense of dread as she realised she had already, unwittingly, broken the rule about speaking to him about fairies. She pushed the thought away. It couldn’t be helped. A punishment from the fairies was now unavoidable. She would just have to deal with whatever they dished up.
‘How do you actually take a memory then?’ she asked. ‘I know it’s connected to the object, but how is it done?’
‘I’m not sure exactly,’ Ratty replied. ‘It’s not something I can properly explain. I’ll just hold the object, whatever it is, and think about what it is I want the person to forget. So, for instance, I held your button and thought about everything we did and spoke about yesterday. And then I thought about it all disappearing, like it never happened.’ His eyes were still fixed in the distance, and his breath was coming in short, quick bursts. ‘Some objects are much better than others. If it can be undone somehow while I’m touching it, like your lock of hair or a match being struck, or a key unlocking a door, it will work much more easily. But I just have to use whatever I can get.’ He shrugged. ‘A button can be undone and a coin can be spent, but not while they’re loose in my hand.’
It was late afternoon by the time they reached the river’s edge. The sky had clouded over, but the air was still warm and midge-infested. Without the sun playing on the water, it didn’t sparkle in the same way it had before, and its true murky-green colour was much more obvious. Tanya eyed the missing persons poster of the young girl and found a lump rising in her throat. It was so faded and tattered, the image almost bleached out by the sun. She looked away as they stepped on to the bridge. Their footsteps were loud and hollow on the wooden planks.
‘Careful,’ Ratty said in a low voice.
‘What?’ Immediately, Tanya scanned the water for signs of danger, but all was calm.
‘Not the river.’ Ratty frowned. ‘Something’s been spilled on the bridge. It’s slippery. I just skidded a little.’
‘Oh.’ Tanya looked down and saw dark splashes on the wood. At the same time, she became aware of a strange smell. It was waxy and oily. She couldn’t remember it being here yesterday. She tugged at Oberon’s leash, noticing Turpin making exaggerated gagging noises and holding her nose. Once they were safely across, she allowed Oberon off his leash once more and he took off eagerly, nose in the long grass.
In the distance, the three horses were visible and, within minutes, Morrigan had joined them. She trotted at Ratty’s side for a while and he patted her distractedly, but did not slow his pace. ‘Nothing for you today, girl,’ he murmured. She bowed her great head as if she understood, yet still she accompanied them almost to the edge of the copse of trees before hanging back and then finally meandering back to her companions.
Perhaps it was the lack of light as they stepped beneath the trees, but no sooner had they done so than Tanya began to feel uneasy. It was gloomier today than it had been before and, while yesterday it had brought fairy-tale thoughts of gingerbread cottages to mind, today all she saw were shadows and hiding places for big, bad wolves. It was not until they were well into the copse that Tanya realised why she felt so on edge.
‘Ratty,’ she whispered, hurrying to catch up with him. ‘Does it seem very quiet to you?’
Ratty stopped suddenly and Tanya halted next to him. A second later, Oberon’s wet nose bumped the back of her leg.
‘It is quiet,’ he answered, glancing about through the trees. ‘Too quiet. I can’t hear a thing. No birds singing, nothing else moving about . . .’
‘No fairies whispering,’ Tanya added. She shivered. ‘It’s like someone has already been along this way and disturbed them.’
Ratty’s face lit up with hope. ‘Maybe it’s Pa. Maybe he’s back!’ He set off, faster now, pushing through the branches. Turpin scurried along behind him, her wing twitching and buzzing. Moments later, they reached the van and Ratty slowed, surveying the clearing.
The curtains were still drawn and the campfire was still ash. Tanya reached up and touched the washing, hanging as it had been yesterday. It was dry now, but no one had taken it inside.
‘Doesn’t mean he’s not back,’ Ratty muttered. He strode obstinately to the door, fumbling for the key around his neck. ‘He could be sleeping.’ He unlocked the door and slid it open.
Inside, the van was empty. Everything was as it had been before, neat and untouched. There was no sign that anyone had entered. Ratty hopped in, poking around on every shelf, presumably, Tanya thought, in case there was another note. It took him only seconds to find that there was nothing. He sat on one of the benches, his shoulders slumped.
‘He hasn’t been back.’
‘That doesn’t mean he’s not going to,’ Tanya said, but Ratty’s worry was plain to see and she shared it now. ‘There’s still a chance.’ She followed him into the van. ‘I’ll wait with you awhile.’ She began to pull the sliding door closed again.
‘Wait,’ Ratty said. ‘Bring Oberon inside.’ He glanced out into the greenery once more. ‘Even if it wasn’t Pa that came through the copse before us, someone did. Best not leave him out there.’ He gave Turpin a tight smile, which she returned with a doleful look. ‘Sorry, Turps. You heard Pa’s instructions. I can’t remove the charms on the doors. Can you keep watch instead?’
‘Of course she can keep watch,’ Turpin scoffed. ‘Turpin is the best at watching.’ With that, she sprang on to a low-hanging tree branch, nimble as a monkey, and vanished into the overhead canopy of leaves.
Tanya pulled the door closed. ‘What now?’ she said.
‘We wait, I suppose,’ Ratty replied. He started to get up. ‘I’ll fix us something to eat.’
‘Let me,’ said Tanya. She went into the kitchen area and began searching the cupboards. As Ratty had described, they were full of tins and not much else. She took one down and emptied it into a small saucepan on the hob. ‘I hope soup is all right?’
‘Fine,’ Ratty said, his voice flat.
She stirred the contents of the pan and pulled out what was left of a small loaf of bread. There was enough for a couple of slices each. She cut them thinly and spread them with butter, adding extra to make up for the dryness, and glanced over her shoulder at Ratty. He had taken out his father’s note and laid it flat on the table. His lips moved soundlessly as he read it yet again.
From somewhere outside the van, a strange, high-pitched sound carried through the trees, piercing the silence. Ratty looked up from the note, his gaze locking with Tanya’s. ‘What was that?’
&nbs
p; They stared at each other, straining their ears. A light wisp of steam curled past Tanya’s face from the soup warming on the hob. It was the only movement in the silent stillness.
The sound came again, closer this time and longer. A desolate, miserable wail that chilled Tanya’s blood. Oberon’s ears went back and he gave a small, confused whine.
‘Is it an animal . . . or a person?’ Ratty whispered.
Tanya shook her head. She couldn’t tell. All she knew was that it was the most horrible thing she had ever heard. There were a few beats of silence before it came once more. This time it was clearer, unmistakable. Ratty stood up, creeping to the window. ‘There’s somebody out there,’ he said. ‘Someone crying!’
At last, Tanya found her feet. She put down the wooden spoon she’d been stirring the soup with and joined Ratty at the window. Slowly, Ratty reached out and drew one of the curtains back.
A loud thud sounded above them, forcing a scream into Tanya’s throat. Ratty jumped, too, releasing the curtain. Something had landed on the roof of the camper van.
‘It’s all right,’ he whispered. ‘That’ll be Turpin. She’s probably trying to get a good look at whatever . . . whoever it is.’ He reached out and moved the curtain again. Tanya found that she was holding on to his other arm tightly. They both stared through the window into the clearing.
At first, they saw nothing. Then a breeze ruffled the greenery, taking the washing on the clothes line and lifting it into a gentle dance.
‘Look!’ Ratty pointed. ‘Over there, through that gap in the laundry.’
Behind a green shirt flapping on the line, a pair of thin, pale legs were visible. They were walking slowly towards the van, as though in pain. And no wonder, for only one of the feet had a shoe on. The other was bare and caked in something brown, mud perhaps . . . or congealed blood. A knee-length blue dress came into view as the figure limped closer. Its fabric was torn and muddied. Water dripped from its hem.
A small hand parted the washing on the line and then the figure slipped through. Tanya’s body went rigid. Though her face was almost colourless and the blonde hair was plastered wetly to the cheeks, she recognised the girl immediately.
‘It’s her,’ she said, her voice choked. ‘The girl on the poster . . . the girl who went missing by the river! Nessie Needleteeth didn’t get her – she must have escaped!’
‘She’s soaked, poor thing,’ Ratty said, his face ashen. ‘We have to help her.’
He moved to the door and opened it, stepping outside.
‘Are you all right?’ he called to her.
The girl paused on the other side of the campfire, her face contorted with sobs. She shivered and shook, water dripping from her wet clothes and hair.
‘Please help me,’ she said, through stifled sobs. ‘I’m so cold! I don’t know where I am. I . . . I fell in the river and I got lost.’ Another wretched sob escaped her lips.
‘Tanya, fetch a blanket,’ Ratty said urgently, crossing the clearing. ‘They’re inside the seats. And get another soup bowl; we need to warm her up!’
Tanya rushed to the table and fumbled with one of the benches. Sure enough, the lid lifted up and inside there were piles of blankets and pillows. She dragged one out and jumped down from the van – then gasped as something held her back. She turned round, bewildered.
‘Oberon, what are you doing?’ she scolded. ‘Let go!’
Oberon released her T-shirt from his jaws and backed away, bumping into the table leg. His hackles were up and he shifted from side to side in agitation.
‘What’s wrong, boy?’ she asked.
‘Tanya, the blanket,’ Ratty prompted. Tanya turned back towards him. He had almost reached the girl, who had stopped now and was crouched down, clutching at her foot.
‘Oh, it hurts,’ she moaned.
Oberon began to bark wildly as Tanya took a step towards the girl, but there was another noise, a thumping coming from above. She paused and turned back to see Turpin perched on a branch overhanging the van, whacking a stick against its roof. Her head was shaking from side to side and she was saying something – something Tanya could not hear over the girl’s wails and Oberon’s barking – but Tanya did not need to hear the words to know that Turpin, as well as Oberon, thought something was very wrong.
She whirled back to face Ratty, who was frozen to the spot. Whatever it was, he’d noticed it now, too. His eyes were fixed on the girl’s face, and they were wide and shocked. He took a step back, towards the van.
The girl reached out her hand to him. ‘Help me,’ she repeated, through chattering teeth. ‘I fell into the river and got lost. I’m so cold . . .’
It was the girl’s colour, Tanya realised finally, that wasn’t quite right. That gave it away. Her skin – lips, especially – should have been bluish if she was so cold. But they were virtually colourless, like the rest of her. Even her dress was bleached and pale. She looks . . . wrong, Tanya thought. Not like a real person at all, but like . . . like . . .
Like a photograph that had once been in colour, but had been bleached out by the sun.
Ratty took another step back. The girl stopped crying and slowly stood up. And, in the gaps between Oberon’s barks, Tanya could finally hear Turpin’s high-pitched voice saying two words over and over again:
‘Glamour! Danger!’
Ratty spun on his heels, panic etched across his face. ‘Get back in the van!’ he cried.
Tanya turned and dived back inside, confused and terrified. The van was now full of steam from the soup boiling away furiously on the hob, causing her to skid on the slippery floor. She hit the table hard, sending a painful jolt through her elbow. She watched the girl slowly stand up as Ratty raced towards the van. She was no longer sobbing. Instead, her face was curiously blank. The sudden change sent a ripple of fear over Tanya’s skin. What on earth was going on?
Ratty was perhaps two strides away from the door when another much larger figure came crashing sideways from out of nowhere, knocking him to the ground.
‘Ratty!’ Tanya screamed.
Ratty grunted as he hit the dirt, rolling back in the direction of the campfire ashes. The hooded attacker scrambled after him, grabbing his leg. Ratty grabbed a handful of ash and threw it into his assailant’s face, causing the person to yell – a deep, male voice – and release him.
Coughing, Ratty crawled to his feet. He staggered only a couple of steps before the man was on his feet once more. His face, thick spectacles and the iron-grey hair spilling over his shoulders were now covered with ash. He wiped it away and lunged again.
‘Hurry!’ Tanya urged. Above her, Turpin was still shrieking and kicking up a din in the tree. Tanya scanned her surroundings for something she could use as a weapon. Her gaze rested on the saucepan. She rushed to the hob and grabbed it, then leaped from the van towards Ratty, who was just a whisker from the man’s outstretched fingers.
‘Duck!’ she yelled, hurling the bubbling contents of the pan. Ratty swerved just in time. As the boiling liquid met his fingers, the man’s scream echoed through the clearing. He shook it from his hand, cursing, but somehow kept coming.
‘Quickly!’ Tanya shouted, but Ratty was not quick enough. A split second later, he was grabbed from behind and a dark rag was forced over his mouth. He struggled furiously against it, but his attacker held it firm.
‘No ’ Ratty began, his voice muffled.
Tanya thought quickly. The man was much taller than Ratty and wider, too. Desperate, she decided to take a risk. She threw the saucepan as hard as she could, but this time her aim was off and the man dodged it easily.
In any case, she was too late. Ratty’s limbs went limp and his eyes rolled back in his head. Whatever was on the rag had rendered him unconscious, and she could only watch as he was dragged away.
‘Get the fairy,’ she heard the retreating man say to the dripping figure. ‘We’ll take care of the girl later.’ With that, he vanished beyond the trees, taking Ratty with him.
; ‘Ratty! RATTY!’ Tanya yelled.
The only response she got was a low, spiteful chuckling. It was coming from the little girl from the river. The little girl who was somehow not a little girl. Tanya stared at her. She – it – had not moved. She was still, watching Tanya intently. Her face was no longer blank, but instead wore a sly, unpleasant grin. She was still dripping water, Tanya realised dimly. That wasn’t right, either, for the river was some distance away. She should not be as wet as that by now.
Tanya jumped as the girl took a step in her direction. Her movements were sure and steady, like a predator. Oberon began to snarl and snap as she came nearer. She gave him a scornful look, then her eyes rested on something above the van. For the first time, Tanya became aware of a muffled sound above her, a quiet, shocked sobbing.
‘Turpin,’ she said hoarsely. ‘She’s coming for you. You have to run!’
The words had barely left her mouth before the river girl launched herself with surprising speed at the camper van, clambering up its sides like an animal before vanishing on to the roof. The van rocked and swayed, and the air was suddenly choked with growls and frightened squeals. Tanya grabbed the table to steady herself, almost tripping over Oberon. Something hit the window behind her and Tanya turned in time to see a wing flash past. It was swiftly followed by a filthy, mud-caked foot before the two figures set off into the trees. With that final jerk, the van was still.
Tanya ran to the door. The sounds of scurrying faded rapidly, leaving only the hiss of the leaves in the wind.
‘Turpin?’ she cried, fighting a bubble of panic that threatened to silence her. ‘Turpin? Ratty?’
Nothing answered her.
They were gone.
10
A Tricksy Magic
TANYA SLAMMED THE VAN DOOR SHUT and slid the catch. She stood for a moment, unable to do anything except shake. Her eyes blurred with unshed tears. She forced herself not to give in and weep. Ratty was gone. Turpin was gone. Crying would not bring either of them back or help Tanya return to Hawthorn Cottage in safety. For that she needed a clear head.