He fell into Madam Dimbleby just as she must have leapt forward to help him. Luckily, her momentum launched him back into the door. “Get the latch!” she yelled directly into his ear. “Ian! Throw the latch while I push the door closed!”
Ian fought the panic spreading along his limbs as he and Madam Dimbleby pushed the door with all their might, closing it bit by bit. He leaned every ounce of his weight into the hard wood while reaching up to grasp the latch. His sweating palms and shaking fingers made pulling on the metal plate nearly impossible as he frantically fought to secure it before he and the headmistress lost their edge over the beast. Out-side, the creature snarled and growled and the door shook as the thing dug its great claws into the wood.
With another snarl the beast thumped the door again, and to Ian’s horror, he and Madam Dimbleby began to slide backward along the cement floor. “I can’t hold it!” Madam Dimbleby shouted. “Ian, you’ve got to run!”
“No!” he groaned, locking his knees and straining with every ounce of strength he had. “We can do it, ma’am! Push!” But the beast had other ideas, and it thumped against the wood yet again. Ian and Madam were pushed back even more. The door was now open several inches and Ian could no longer reach the latch.
Refusing to give up, he twisted his body around, trying desperately to gain purchase on the slippery floor, and gritting his teeth, he pushed with everything he had against the great hulking weight of the creature on the other side. He tried to ignore the smell of sulfur and rotten meat filling his nostrils and making his stomach lurch, as well as the grumbling growl that made the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up. Ian saw a giant paw with nails as thick and sharp as spikes curl around the lip of the entry, and he knew that both he and Madam were likely seconds away from death.
Just when his legs began to shake from the strain and his arms began to slip down the door, there was a rush of wind from behind him, followed by a whump right next to him. The door edged closer to the frame and a small grunt came from his side. Craning his neck to look over his shoulder, he saw Carl, his face turning red with his efforts to help close the door. Then something else crashed hard into Ian’s back and he was propelled slightly forward. He felt little hands pushing on his shoulders and he knew without seeing that Theo was pressing her small frame into his as she joined their fight. With tremendous effort they struggled and pushed and groaned and gained ground. “Quickly!” yelled Carl, his voice tight with strain. “We’ve got to close it now!”
It was all the encouragement they needed. In one great effort the four gave a tremendous shove and the door banged shut. Ian grabbed the latch with both hands and heaved it closed. With a screech of rusted metal, it clanged home and everyone let go of the door, exhausted and shaking in fear.
The beast gave an angry howl and thumped its paws against the wood, making the door shudder on its hinges. The four of them quickly backed away and scurried toward the stairs. “Hurry, children!” said Madam Dimbleby, gasping for breath. “We must get upstairs and lock the cellar door from the kitchen in case the beast is able to break through this one!”
The four scrambled up the stairs, Ian closely following Theo and Carl. He looked behind him as he dashed up the steps and saw Madam Dimbleby hurrying as best she could, her breathing labored and her face flushed bright red. As he cleared the last stair, Ian turned around, reached out his hand to her, and pulled her up the last few steps and into the kitchen before Carl slammed the door to the cellar and threw the latch. Next he hit the light switch, and the kitchen was enveloped in murky darkness. They all paused for a moment, taking great gulps of air and keeping away from the shuttered windows. Every muscle in Ian’s body felt weak and rubbery. Madam Dimbleby looked ready to topple over, and Ian was relieved when a watchful Carl pulled a stool from the corner over to the headmistress so that she could sit down.
The children recovered more quickly than their head-mistress, and between pants she said to them, “You … must … get … to the … tower. …”
“Not without you,” said Theo, who hurried to the sink and filled a cup with water. “Here, ma’am, drink this.” She offered the older woman the glass.
Madam took a sip gratefully, then stood from the stool. “Come now,” she said, wiping her brow. “It’s not safe down here. Up the stairs with all of you!”
Ian pulled Theo protectively in front of him as the four trotted quickly out of the kitchen. He was both grateful and angry that she had risked her life to come to his aid in the cellar, but this clearly wasn’t the time to discuss it. He felt a horrid foreboding now that he had an idea of the beast’s brutal strength. His only remaining thought was of getting Theo and Madam Dimbleby to safety as quickly as possible.
The four hurried to the door of the west tower, which Ian reached past Theo to pull open. Looking up the staircase, he saw Searle sitting on one of the lower steps, wearing his usual scowl as loud chatter echoed from higher up the stairwell. “Why are you on the stairs?” Madam Dimbleby asked from over Ian’s shoulder.
“There’s not enough room,” said Searle with an annoyed pout. “It’s a madhouse up there.”
“Right,” said Madam Dimbleby, biting her lower lip. “Come then, children. If there isn’t enough room, we shall go to the east tower. Searle, either come with us or move up these stairs as far as you can.”
“The east tower? I’ll not go up there, no, ma’am!” the boy said with a shudder. “I’d almost rather face that beast than go up there again.” Searle had once gone up to the east tower by himself on a dare. The door had mysteriously slammed behind him, and he’d been unable to open it for several panicky minutes.
“It’ll be all right,” Ian whispered to Theo, who was again shivering with fear. “I was just up there and it wasn’t so bad.”
Madam Dimbleby gave a nod to Searle and said, “Very well, but lock this door behind you before you go up, and the one at the top of the stairs too.”
“Ma’am,” Searle protested, “I told you there wasn’t enough room! We’d all be smashed in if I had to shut the top door.”
“You will do as I say!” roared Madam Dimbleby. Ian had never, ever seen her so angry.
Searle turned pale, and all talking on the stairway stopped. From above they heard Madam Scargill call down, “Maggie? Is everything all right?”
“Gertrude,” said Madam Dimbleby, still glaring at Searle, “the beast is strong enough to gain access to the keep. You must get everyone inside the tower room and lock both doors!”
There was a pause before Madam Scargill said, “You’re coming up, aren’t you?”
“There isn’t enough room and there isn’t enough time to argue over it. I’m taking Ian, Carl, and Theo up to the east tower. We should be safe enough there.” Madam Dimbleby didn’t wait for her cousin to respond. She simply slammed the door in Searle’s face, and after hearing him obediently throw the latch, she ushered the children through the parlor and toward the staircase.
The foursome hurried along, but Carl paused at the front door and looked at the chair he’d left just under the spy hole. “What about watching out for the earl?” he asked.
Ian noticed the boy’s large frightened eyes and knew that none of them wanted to stay on the main floor. Madam Dimbleby wiped her brow again and looked about. “It’s too dangerous for any of you to stay here. Carl, go along with Ian and Theo. I’ll stay at the door until the earl returns.”
“Why don’t we all go up to the tower?” suggested Ian, knowing that it wasn’t safe for Madam at the front door either. “We’ll have a good view of the grounds from up there, ma’am, and we’ll be able to see when the earl shoots the beast.”
Madam Dimbleby hesitated, looking from Ian to the door. “Please, ma’am,” Theo said. “I’d feel better in that tower room if you were with us.”
“Right,” said Madam Dimbleby, giving Theo a tiny smile. “Let me just check the bolt on the door one last time and we’ll head upstairs.”
Ian, Carl, and
Theo waited at the foot of the steps while Madam Dimbleby walked over to the front door and checked the bolt. She was about to turn back when she hesitated at a shuffling noise from outside. Leaning in, she pulled the small hatch at the top that served as the spy hole. A large red eye as big as a saucer glared right back and a low guttural growl reverberated off the outside wall.
“Ahhh!” they all screamed, and Madam Dimbleby backed away from the entry. “Run, children, run!” she shouted. At that moment a tremendous thud shook the door on its hinges.
Ian grabbed Theo’s hand and bolted up the steps, nearly lifting her off the ground. Carl raced past him and crested the landing first. The three then ran down the hallway and yanked the door to the east tower open. “Go!” Ian said to Carl and Theo, looking over his shoulder for his headmistress, whom he refused to leave behind. “I’ll wait for Madam!”
Below, Ian heard another tremendous thud rattling the door. It was followed by the sound of splintering wood. Just as Carl and Theo disappeared up the stone steps, Madam Dimbleby topped the landing, one hand on her heart and the other on the banister, her face flushed from fear and exertion. Ian rushed back down the hallway toward her, afraid she might collapse under the strain. He reached her as a third thud came from the door, and more wood splintered. They heard the groan of metal hinges coming out of the rock.
“Hurry, Madam!” he said as he tugged at her arm to get her down the hallway. “You’re almost there!”
The two reached the entrance to the east tower as one final thud shook the walls of the keep. This was immediately followed by a tremendous crash, and Ian knew that the beast had gained access to their home. Impatient to get the headmistress to safety, he indelicately pushed Madam through the doorway and followed her, slamming the door from the hallway behind him. But unlike on the door to the west tower, there was no latch to lock them securely in. Years before, Landis had removed it when several children who wandered into this section of the keep kept reporting that the door had mysteriously locked on them and they’d been unable to unlock it. It opened outward into the hall, making it difficult for a four-legged beast to pull it open. But this offered Ian little comfort, as he knew that if the beast could blast its way in through the front door, the thin door leading to the east tower was no match for it, and there was no second door at the top of the staircase like the one in the west tower either.
“Up you go, Madam,” Ian said as he trotted next to her, pulling her by the arm up the wide circular staircase. He thought of the other children in the west tower and knew they’d be safer with both of their locked doors and the long, narrow, circular staircase. The east tower had a shorter, much wider one.
Ian doubted that the giant beast would be able to squirm up those west tower steps to reach the other orphans, and he gulped as he thought about the limited challenges it would encounter if it tried to pursue his small band. In fact, he knew that if the beast breached the door at the bottom of the stairs, they’d all be trapped, and as sure as dead.
“Hurry!” he urged as they neared the landing. “We’ve got to reach the tower room and find a place to hide!”
Madam crested the landing, huffing and puffing. Ian eased his grip on her arm. He knew she couldn’t go on much longer like this. Her face was bright red and glistening with sweat, and she looked as if she was going to faint at any moment. While she wheezed and leaned against the wooden bench where he’d hidden his treasure box, Ian looked about the circular room, spotting Carl and Theo crouched down on the opposite side of the room, near one of the many windows that lined the perimeter of the tower.
“The beast is inside,” Ian announced.
Theo let out a sob, her face an oval of fear. Carl reached over and put his arm over her shoulders. “There, there, Theo,” he said kindly. “We’ll have to hide you someplace safe, is all.”
Madam Dimbleby was still trying to catch her breath. The poor woman was bent double with her palms on the bench and sweat dripping from her forehead. Ian rubbed her back and surveyed the room, looking for anywhere they could all hide. He knew from being up here on a few occasions, including one just several hours before, that it lacked options. The room was a large circle with six arched leadedglass windows letting moonlight in.
To his left was the bench and he eyed it critically, wondering if it might be large enough to house Theo and keep her out of sight, but he worried about how close it was to the staircase, and if the beast had smashed the front door to smithereens, it could surely reduce the bench to kindling.
He then focused on a small pile of broken old desks, cots, chairs, and such that Landis kept up here to use for spare parts when newer furniture was broken.
Getting an idea, Ian gave Madam Dimbleby one final pat and walked quickly over to the frightened pair across the room. “Carl,” he said, “come help me make a barrier.”
Carl hurried with Ian to the pile of wood while Theo ran to sit with Madam Dimbleby. Somewhere below them, they all heard the crashing of furniture breaking and the smashing of porcelain. From the sound of it, the beast was quickly and thoroughly destroying their home.
Ian and Carl worked several of the desks and chairs into a wooden fort of sorts. It wouldn’t keep the beast out for long, but it was better than nothing. Ian motioned to Madam and Theo with a deep bow. “Come, my ladies,” he said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. “Your fortress awaits.”
Just as Theo and Madam crossed the room, they heard a particularly loud crash that sounded too close to be on the first floor. “It’s upstairs!” hissed Carl.
“Quickly, then!” Ian said as Madam Dimbleby and Theo hurried into the little fort, crouching down and huddling behind the pile of desks and chairs that Ian and Carl had stacked haphazardly.
Next Ian motioned to Carl to duck in after Theo and Madam, then he carefully pulled the large desk on the right of the entrance and squeezed into the space behind it next to Carl, who helped him pull it back, enclosing the foursome. “Quiet now,” he whispered, and the four of them listened to the thump, thump, thump of their pounding hearts and the crashing sounds coming from the hallway at the bottom of the stairs.
They tracked the beast’s progress by following the awful noises of breaking furniture and glass, the tearing of cloth, and the scratching of claws dragging along the wooden floorboards. With small gasps they listened closely to the splintering of wood that indicated that the monster had pushed through the thinner doors inside the keep with ease.
With a heavy heart, Ian realized that the chaotic smashing of their belongings came closer one bedroom at a time. He knew that the beast had destroyed his room, then the linen closet, and was edging closer to the nursery and Madam Scargill’s room.
As if to confirm Ian’s thoughts, the awful sounds filling their ears now seemed right below them. “It’s in the nursery,” cried Madam Dimbleby, and she put a hand to her mouth, tears forming in her eyes. “Oh, Heavenly Father,” she wept, “please, please spare us!”
Suddenly, there was another tremendous crash. This one seemed to come from someplace across the hall. “It’s in Madam Scargill’s room now,” said Ian, and he gulped as he realized what was coming next. “He’ll only have two more doors to break down after that.”
Theo buried her face in Madam Dimbleby’s skirt. “This is horrid!” she cried.
More crashing suggested that Madam Scargill’s belongings were being torn to shreds. Then, quite abruptly, the world outside the tower room went deathly quiet. And the silence was more terrifying than all the other noises combined. Ian quickly looked about their small cramped space for a weapon. There was nothing within the small fort he and Carl had built that might be suitable to use for defense. With a grunt, he pushed the desk a little and poked his head through the opening to scan the room again. His eyes settled on something across the floor that he hadn’t noticed before. There was a broken axe handle leaning against the far wall by the staircase.
Without a second thought he squirmed out of the fort and hurrie
d over to the handle. “Ian!” Madam Dimbleby whispered. “Come back here at once!”
But Ian wasn’t listening. He knew he was responsible for leading the beast to the keep, and if they all stayed behind the barrier, their little group would surely die. But maybe he could engage the beast and allow the others to escape. Maybe he was enough. At the very least, he could buy them a little time before the earl returned.
Just as Ian grabbed the broken handle, there was a tremendous crash that shook the walls of the tower and sent him backward several paces. A howl echoed up from the bottom of the stairwell and made him tremble in fear. The beast had found them.
Ian moved to the wall opposite the fort where the others hid. He could see Carl’s wide eyes peering out at him through a crack between the benches. He gave his new friend a nod and turned to face the thud … thud … thud of paws hitting the stone staircase, making their way up toward the circular room.
Ian braced himself against the wall as far away from the wooden fort as the room would allow. He stood bravely, holding the axe handle like a cricket bat. The beast would surely kill him, but he was determined to get a few good licks in while he could. “I’m going to distract him!” he yelled at the group hiding in the fort. “You lot, run for your lives as soon as its back is turned!”
“Ian Wigby!” Madam Dimbleby shouted sternly. “You get yourself back behind this barricade immediately!” But a low and angry growl echoed up the staircase, overpowering Madam’s voice and filling the circular room with an icy fear.
The hair on Ian’s neck and arms stood straight and his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. He saw the paw first as it came up the last step, then the snout, then the red eyes, then the whole giant horrible head. Ian quivered as the rest of the massive beast came into view and the weapon in his hands became slick with sweat. The creature was enormous; at the shoulder the thing was as tall as Ian. Its fur was as dark as coal, and its hackles were matted in greasy clumps. Drool dripped from its fangs while it regarded Ian and his axe handle, and something akin to an evil grin seemed to cross its wicked features.