13 Secrets (19 page)

Read 13 Secrets Online

Authors: Michelle Harrison

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #General, #Fantasy & Magic, #Juvenile Fiction / Fantasy & Magic

BOOK: 13 Secrets
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Rosie glanced around the table, her candyfloss
hair bobbing. “Oh, and now your little friends have joined you,” she said pointedly. Her eyes lingered on Rowan. “Don’t I know your face?”

“Of course,” said Rowan, smiling angelically. “I was in here just last week, don’t you remember?”

“Me too,” said Fabian before Rosie could answer. “I gave you a ten-pound note and you tried to give me the change of a fiver. Does that ring a bell?” His deliberately loud voice attracted the attention of the people nearby. Rosie looked shocked, then decidedly annoyed.

“Can’t say I remember, dear,” she trilled, piling her tray with crocks and scuttling inside with a backward glare at Fabian.

“She didn’t really shortchange you, did she?” Tanya asked.

Fabian grinned wickedly. “Nope. But it got rid of her, didn’t it?”

“Don’t count on it,” said Rowan, grumpy now. “The old magpie will soon be back, trying to peck money out of us with that greedy
beak
of hers.” She glanced through the door into the shop, past a red-faced Rosie, to the teapot clock on the wall. “We need to figure out how to get that potion to Jack—I think we need to stay here a bit longer, so we’d better order something.”

Sparrow’s eyes widened in alarm. “I can’t fit nothing else in. But you lot have something, go on. Have what you like. Tino’s paying.”

Fabian dived on the menu. “Strawberries and
cream milkshake,” he said. “And a piece of shortbread.” Remembering his manners he quickly added, “Please.”

“I’ll have some lemonade,” said Tanya, peering over Fabian’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Nothing for me,” said Rowan. She felt nervous, and Tanya seemed unusually subdued, which wasn’t helping. “Go inside and order, will you? I don’t want to see that old busybody any more than I have to today.”

Fabian and Tanya got up with a scraping of chairs and went inside.

“Where’s Suki?” Rowan asked.

“Ain’t seen her for a while,” Sparrow replied. “She’s scouting round the town, trying to sniff out any place the mother might be hidden. She’s had no luck so far.” He leaned back in his chair, fidgeting. “So what exactly did you get, and who gave it to you?”

“It’s a truth spell,” Rowan said, leaning close to keep their conversation private. The lemony scent of Sparrow’s newly-washed hair swept over her again, and she found herself appraising him without really meaning to. He looked so very different. “Not as strong as something to do away with glamour, but all we could get at such short notice. There’s an old gypsy woman living in the woods—I daresay Fix would have known of her. Anyway, she’s helped Tanya out a few times. We can trust her.”

“Good,” said Sparrow. He looked relieved.
“Good.” He turned to check that Tanya and Fabian were inside. “Did you tell them two? About Fix, like?”

“Yes,” said Rowan. “I had to. They need to know exactly what they’re involved in. Whatever that is. Have you told Tino?”

“Suki had already done it by the time I got back last night,” said Sparrow. “Tino’s getting word out to the rest. Said we all need to be vigilant, which I’d figured out by now, anyway.”

“What did he think happened?” Rowan asked. “Does he think that… that someone else was responsible?”

“Too right he does.” Emotion leaked into Sparrow’s voice. “He knows as well as I do that Fix wouldn’t have knowingly taken poison.”

“Why does Suki believe the opposite, then?”

He shrugged. “She never knew Fix that well. She hadn’t worked with her as often as the rest of us.” He sighed and scratched at his head. Rowan watched. Sparrow was so used to his greasy scalp itching that the action had become a habit.

Tanya and Fabian came back to the table and sat down.

“Who’s got the what’s-it?” Sparrow asked.

“What what’s-it?” said Fabian.

“The
potion
,” Rowan said through gritted teeth, looking around warily. “Tanya’s got it.”

“It’s in my pocket,” said Tanya. “The bottle is pretty small.”

“All right,” said Sparrow. “Leave it there for now. We all need to think about how we’re going to get that bottle to Jack.”

“No need.” Suki arrived at the table to catch the end of his sentence. She took a chair from a nearby table and pulled it over to them. “You managed to get something, then?”

Sparrow nodded. “I didn’t think we would, but we had a stroke of luck.” He quickly explained the nature of the spell to Suki, along with their source.

“You said you had an idea to get the bottle to Jack,” Rowan prompted. “What is it?”

“Jack managed to get a message to me this morning just after I dropped off the instructions with the delivery. He put a note in a bottle and dropped it out through a window at the side—I just caught it before it smashed. He says he sometimes helps to collect glasses at the end of the lunchtime shift, around three o’clock. We wait until Jack comes outside to collect any glasses from the tables, then one of us can walk over and ask him for directions, giving him the bottle to pocket and take back upstairs. We then go ahead with the rest as planned.”

“We’ve still got a while, then,” said Rowan. “About half an hour.”

They all turned to look at the Spiral Staircase. It was a crooked little pub, all white walls and dark beams, and the roof sloped forward into the street, giving it an unstable look. Like Mrs. Beak’s, wooden tables were lined up outside, some with umbrellas,
and a leafy archway to the side of the door led to a back garden with yet more tables.

“Where’s the staircase, then?” asked Sparrow.

“Inside,” Fabian answered. “It leads up to a gallery on the first floor that overlooks the stage when they have bands playing. Cast iron, it is.”

“Shame it’s in the public part of the place, and not used by the family,” said Sparrow. “The changeling would never have got past the stairs, what with it being iron.”

They watched the building in silence. Jack’s father was clearly visible through the windows, drying glasses behind the bar.

“So this gypsy woman,” said Suki. “She lives in Hangman’s Wood? Whereabouts?”

“In a caravan,” said Tanya. “It’s near the brook, past two of the catacombs.”

“We should speak to Tino,” said Suki thoughtfully. “We might be able to use her in light of… of poor Fix.” She stared at the table, her blond hair falling over her face.

“Did you get anything from Jack’s mother’s ring?” Rowan asked her.

Suki sighed and closed her eyes. “Not really. Only a feeling that she’s somewhere close… but the more I try and force it, the further it slips from me.”

“Do you think she’s alive?”

“I’m not sure.”

The conversation broke up. Across the street, the noise levels rose at the Spiral Staircase, and the
laughter grew more raucous. Sparrow’s eyes were trained on Jack’s father, and Fabian fidgeted and adjusted his glasses repeatedly, watching the upstairs part of the pub for any glimpse of Jack at the windows. Once or twice there were shadowy movements beyond, but nothing clear. All the windows were thrown open to entice a breeze through.

Finally, the clock in Mrs. Beak’s chimed daintily, announcing that it was now three o’clock.

“It’s time,” said Sparrow, not taking his eyes off Jack’s father. “Everybody needs to be prepared. Until the changeling reacts to the spell we won’t know how to respond. It all depends on whether she leaves with or without Jack’s sister.”

“And whether Jack is successful in the first place,” Fabian muttered.

Moments later Jack appeared at the door, carrying a large plastic crate.

“There he is,” said Rowan, tensing. “Who’s going to deliver the spell?”

“I’ll do it,” said Tanya.

“No. You can’t do anything that directly involves you, not after Gredin’s threats. Give it to someone else.”

“I’ll do it,” said Suki, holding out her hand.

Tanya pulled the tiny bottle from her pocket and handed it over.

Suki got up and left the table, crossing the street. The bottle was concealed in her palm as she casually approached Jack. He lingered at one of the tables,
taking time to fill the crate with empty bottles and glasses and pausing to return the good-byes of the bar staff finishing their shift as they left. Tanya’s sharp eyes caught sight of a label on Jack’s top—it was inside out. Suki headed for the table, stopping only when close enough to touch him.

No one could hear what she said to him, but after some gesticulating and pointing down the street, Suki smiled at him and came back to the table.

“Done,” she whispered, her smile gone, replaced by a furrowed brow. “All we can do now is wait.”

Jack went back into the pub. Agonizing minutes passed, in which another member of staff turned up for the next shift. The clock in the tea shop chimed the quarter hour.

An upstairs window of the Spiral Staircase, the one furthest from them, slammed shut. The next window along the row closed seconds later. Then a third.

Rowan stiffened in her chair. “Who’s doing that? Who’s closing all the windows when it’s still so warm?”

“Something’s happening,” Sparrow whispered, rising in his seat.

A figure appeared in the fourth window directly opposite them. A woman leaned out, her eyes cold and her hair wild. Her mouth moved quickly with unheard words as a thin arm reached out for the window. Her body twitched with small spasms, like she was in pain. With a clawlike grip on the window, she pulled it shut with a bang.

“It’s her,” said Suki. “The changeling mother.”

Rowan felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. Whatever the changeling was, its façade was slipping. Jack must have succeeded.

“Where’s Jack?” said Suki. She searched the windows. “He hasn’t made the signal… but something seems wrong.”

“Then maybe he
can’t
signal,” said Tanya. “Perhaps he can’t get to the window.”

“We’ve got to get him out,” said Rowan. “
Now
. Fabian, are you ready? Can you do this?”

“I can do it,” said Fabian. He got up, the milkshake moustache clinging to his upper lip making him seem young and vulnerable.

“No, you can’t,” said Rowan. “I can’t let you go in there with that… that
thing
.”

“Stick to the plan,” hissed Suki. “It’s too late to change it now—everything’s hanging in the balance!”

“I’ll take care of Jack’s father,” said Sparrow. He stuffed a rolled-up twenty-pound note under Fabian’s glass, then got up and sauntered across the street. Stooping, he collected one of the small plant pots by the door and hurled it at the nearest window. The pot missed the glass and bounced off the frame, fell, and smashed on the ground.

A customer at a nearby table stood up, outraged. Jack’s father appeared at the door with a roar. Sparrow grinned obnoxiously and took off, fleeing down the winding cobblestones of Wishbone Walk.

Jack’s father followed him, red-faced.
“Get back here, you little bleeder!”

“That’s him out of the way for a few minutes,” said Suki. “The rest is down to us. Fabian, you go in and try to get Jack out. Remember, try
not
to go upstairs. Your aim is to get Jack called down. Rowan and I will wait around the back, near the alley.”

They got up, Rowan collecting her knapsack from under the table. Only Tanya stayed seated, her hands clenched into fists on the tabletop. “Fabian, wait,” she said as he started to move away. “Take these.” She pushed a pair of tiny silver scissors at him. “I brought them, just in case. They’re no good to me, sitting here. But they might come in useful to you. Remember, they’ll cut through anything except for wood, metal, or stone.”

Fabian took them, visibly nervous.

Then he, Rowan, and Suki walked to the Spiral Staircase. Tanya remained at the table, alone.

 

The garden of the Spiral Staircase had more tables, spread out over grass and sheltered by trees and bushes. Only a couple of the tables were occupied. A back door led inside, propped open by an old iron. It provided a clear view into the pub.

Rowan and Suki sat at the table nearest the door. Fabian remained standing. To the left of the door an area of wooden fencing had been erected to stow the trash cans in. Either end was open—one for entry from the pub, and the other leading to the alley at
the side, where the garbage collectors picked up the refuse. From the front, the trash cans were concealed from any customers in the garden.

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