Eldritch Manor (13 page)

“The scarf!” she crowed.

Belle sniffed. “That's not a scarf, that's yarn.”

“It's yarn now, but it
was
a scarf.” Willa appealed to Horace. “When I first saw this it was about eight inches long. During our meeting last night it was only five or six inches long. When we put her to bed I noticed some of it had unravelled. And now it's unravelled even more. Isn't it possible that Mab's
knitting
was keeping our time going?”

A smile slowly spread over Horace's face. “Willa, you're a wonder!”

Willa turned back to the dollhouse, suddenly very conscious of the single strand of yarn running back into Mab's bedroom. She followed it carefully to the needles. There were only a few rows of knitting left. As they all stared, the stitches ever so slowly dropped out, like an invisible hand was tugging at the yarn. Willa's eyes grew wide.

“Our time is running out!” She looked around. “Does anyone know how to knit?”

Head shakes, panicky looks. Willa stared helplessly at the tiny needles in her hand, smaller than toothpicks. Why had she never learned to knit? Her mother had offered to teach her once, she remembered, and a sudden wave of despair swept over her.

She shut her eyes, wishing her mom was there. She heard nothing but wind for a moment, and felt cold. Then in her mind she could see her mom knitting, patiently clicking away at a green toque. Willa tried to focus on her hands. She could see them in action, looping the yarn around, tucking it under....

When she opened her eyes the needles were still in her palm, with only one row of tiny stitches in place.

“Get me a magnifying glass!” she hollered, dropping to her knees and trying to get a grip on the needles with her big, clumsy fingers. Horace raced into the office and came back with the glass. He tried to hold it over the knitting, but his hand shook so much that he had to give it to Belle, who was steady as a rock.

“Go on, Willa,” she urged, her voice firm.

Willa looped and tucked once, twice, slowly getting into the swing of it, but her stitches were big and uneven next to Mab's fine work, which was nearly all gone now. She paused, just for a moment, as the last of the tiny stitches was pulled by that unseen hand. Horace moved to the window and peered out.

“We're still in time, but it's ... clunky.”

Willa squinted and hurriedly knitted two full rows of crazy stitches, then jumped up to look out the window.

The fog had thinned somewhat. The butcher birds lined the fence again, and beyond that a few neighbours were out on the street. She saw immediately what Horace meant by “clunky.” People were moving jerkily, fast for a moment, then slow, fast, slow, then infinitely slow. And the daylight flickered like an old-fashioned silent movie, cold and grey.

“It's my knitting,” wailed Willa. “My hands are too big!” Then she saw a familiar figure a little distance down the road.

“MOM!”

Her mother was dashing, in slow motion, toward the house. She was in her bathrobe, with her hair in disarray and slippers flapping under her feet. Everyone else on the street seemed in a trance but her mom's face was full of panic and concern. She was coming to them, to help! Willa choked back a sob, excited and hopeful. Then she looked down to her knitting again. She had to knit enough time for her mom to get there.

She stared down at her work. She could hardly hear the others, they seemed far away, indistinct. She tried to keep knitting, but her hands were shaking now and her heart was pounding.

“Horace! What will happen if I stop?”

Horace's voice burbled quietly but she could make out none of the words. Even the click of the needles was muffled now, but she was too scared to look up. She was shaking so bad she could barely continue, and her stitches were getting worse. She heard a scream and the screeching of birds. She looked up.

Her mom was at the front gate. The butcher birds were in the air, circling, their talons extended as they swiped murderously at her. She slowed and shielded her face with her arms, but the birds tore at her sleeve. They swooped and she stumbled, grabbing on to the fence for support. The largest butcher bird dove at her, its claws aimed at her exposed face.

Willa let out a cry as she grabbed the loose end of the yarn and yanked out all of her stitches. She caught a brief glimpse of the bird, frozen in place in the air, of her mother cowering ... then there was a great cracking sound, like very sharp thunder. The air seemed to shatter, the light outside exploded, white and blinding. Then all was still.

Time had stopped. And they were alone.

Them and It

W
illa
squeezed her eyes closed against the painfully bright light, squeezing the tiny ball of yarn in her fist. After a few moments the light began to dim and she could hear the others moving about. Willa cautiously opened her eyes. They were all still there. The parlour was still there. Out the window she could see the yard up to the gate, but beyond that was a blank grey page. It wasn't foggy grey, but flat grey, like a painted wall. Willa could make out a few of the butcher birds in frozen poses in the air but couldn't see her mother at all. Beyond the gate and fence there was nothing.

Horace, Belle, Baz, Tengu, and Willa looked at each other in the pale light. Behind them was a faint, incessant clanging as Fadiyah restlessly circled her cage.

Horace cleared his throat. “We are now outside time.”

The others sat down. Willa stood alone in the middle of the room. “Are we ... in
your
time?” her voice trembled. “Magic time? Immortal time?”

“No, unfortunately.”

“We're someplace else entirely?”

“Some
time
else, yes.”

Willa sighed. She sensed that thinking too hard about this time business would just get in the way of what had to be done.

“So we are all alone?” she persisted. Horace nodded and she went on. “Can the
other
side find us here?”

Horace nodded again. “Oh, yes. We're even closer to them now.”

Willa pointed out at the blank greyness. “What if we went out there. Went somewhere else?”

Horace gazed out the window, squinting doubtfully. “There's nowhere else out there. I don't know what
is
there, but if we go through that gate we might never find our way back, and this house is the only way to get back to your world.”

He started, turning back. “They're coming. Listen.”

There was a faint skittering sound in the walls, and the creaking of boards, as if the house was shifting on its foundation. Then the sound of fabric tearing. Willa felt jittery.

“Everyone! Get ready!”

Tengu jumped to his feet and gathered up the broom handles. Belle removed the cone from around Baz's neck.

“Now don't go scratching at your cuts,” Belle scolded. “Or I'll put it right back on.” Baz scowled but said nothing. Tengu held out their mop handle weapons.

“We're not going to get far with sticks, Tengu,” grumbled Belle.

The golden bird hopped about urgently, making the cage jump and clang on its stand. Willa opened the cage door and Fadi stepped out onto her arm.

“You know something's about to happen, don't you?” Willa cooed softly, smoothing the bird's feathers. Calmed, Fadi looked into Willa's eyes, tilted her head and nodded. Then she hopped onto the back of the sofa and stretched her glittering wings out to
the sides.

Willa put her ear to the office door. The sounds were growing louder in there, with the addition of the stealthy scrape of something very, very large. She turned to Horace again, whispering.

“The knitting needles are the time talisman. We've just got to keep them hidden, right?”

“Yes,” Horace nodded. “If they don't have the needles they cannot enter and live in your world. And we can always get back in time by starting to knit again.”

Willa nodded and opened her palm. She let out a gasp. Only the ball of yarn was there. She dashed back into the parlour and dropped to her knees, groping frantically for the tiny needles on the rug. Horace stumbled in behind her, dropping down as well and fumbling about.

A loud crash sounded in the office. Fadiyah flew out of the room with Tengu close behind, spinning his mop handle artfully. Baz fumbled for her broomstick and followed. Belle wheeled herself out, her pale fingers clenching a fireplace poker.

The noise and shouts grew deafening, but Willa continued to run her fingers back and forth across the flowered rug, her heart pounding.

“I'll find them, Horace, go!” she yelled. Horace struggled to his feet and dashed out of the room with a roar.

A movement caught Willa's eye. Mab was stirring in her bed. Willa crawled over and gently lifted the fairy, wrapping her in a blanket and slipping her into the inner pocket of her jacket. Then a horrifying scream from Belle made her jump.

The old lady had slipped out of her chair at the foot of the stairs, screaming more in anger than fear as she swung her poker at three cat-people who hissed and reared up to pounce.

Willa grabbed a cushion from the sofa and ran out into the hall. She started to whack the cats as hard as she could. They tumbled backwards and scampered back into the office.

“I could have handled those furballs,” grumbled Belle as Willa helped her into the wheelchair.

“I know, but I need you in here.” Willa wheeled her into the parlour doorway. “Try to keep the cats out of here. The needles are still in the rug somewhere.”

She expected an argument from the old woman, but Belle nodded purposefully and pointed to the pillow Willa still had in her hand.

“A pillow's not going to cut it, sweetie. Here!” Belle held out her poker.

“No, you keep it.” Willa tossed the pillow aside and grabbed the fireplace shovel.

The scene in the office was fierce. The far wall was one great empty black hole now and the lithe cat-people were slithering in, swarming the place despite the tremendous efforts of Horace, Baz, and Tengu. Horace was in lion form, big and golden, pouncing on the cats with a great roar, clawing and flinging them across the room. Baz was fighting fire with fire, hissing and swiping with her claws. Fadi swooped back and forth, scattering the felines. The most amazing sight, however, was Tengu, flashing around the room in a blur, forward, backward, spinning and flipping. His mop handle whooshed back and forth with eerie precision, cracking cat spines with every blow. The cats were falling and being thrown, but they kept coming.

“Horace!” called Willa. “There's too many of them!”

The lion paused, nodding his great head, and backed into the doorway of the office, effectively blocking it.

“Stand back!” he roared. Tengu, Baz, and Willa shrank back into the corners of the room. The bird perched above the window. The cats, suddenly silent, turned to stare at Horace in the doorway.

In the sudden quiet Willa could hear Horace mumbling, menace in his voice. Then he roared and swiped with his paw, creating a visible disturbance in the air. It spread outward in a semi-circle, like ripples in a lake, and the cats were blown back by the shockwave. They flew back into the hole or thunked against the wall, dropping to the floor. Then they sprang as one at Horace, like a wave splashing back at him, but he waved his paw again, in a wide, strong sweep, and the cats were thrown back with even greater force. Many fell unconscious to the floor, but still more cats poured out of the wall.

Horace was hanging his head wearily now as the cats crept forward, slowly covering the whole floor. He braced himself in the frame of the doorway as they began to climb all over him, mewling terribly.

The bird flapped back and forth, screeching angrily, diving and tearing at their backs, but the cats paid it no mind. Tengu, Baz, and Willa leapt back into the fray but it was a losing battle. They couldn't even get close to Horace, who was sinking into an ocean of cats.

“Horace!” screamed Willa as he disappeared from sight. Just then the room seemed to explode behind her. Shards of glass filled the air and Willa fell forward, landing on cats. The next moment she was beneath them. She couldn't breathe. Their feet scratched and scrambled over her. When she felt an opening she rolled over and sat up. A large, dark shape loomed above her. And a large, moist eye.

Dinah let out an ear-splitting wail as the last of the cats slipped away into the darkness beyond the wall. Willa and the others sat up on the glass-strewn floor exchanging looks of amazement. Dinah had thrust her head through the window, sending the terrified cats into retreat. Now she closed her eyes and let out a tremendous cry of victory. The sound reverberated for a long time through the still house.

“Dinah! Thank you, thank you!” Willa threw her arms around the dinosaur's neck. The others gathered around with happy shouts and hugs, and Dinah closed her eyes, snuffling humbly.

Willa looked to Horace, small and human again, slumped in the doorway. His face and hands were crisscrossed with bright red scratches. She ran over to help him up.

“Horace, are you okay?” He was too breathless to answer but waved her aside, standing on his own.

The office was in a shambles, but more than that, the black stains and puddles had multiplied all over the room, scattered around like spattered paint. Pulsating. Silently everyone stepped around them, withdrawing from the office into the narrow hallway. Belle was out of her chair, sitting on the floor in the parlour, wide-eyed. “What happened?”

“Dinah happened, that's what,” cackled Baz. Belle grinned as they helped her back into her chair.

Willa caught her breath. “She surprised them, but they'll be back. The hole's too big to block now, we'll have to barricade the doorway!”

Tengu jumped to the stairs and braced his mop handle against the bannister, which gave way and splintered apart, trailing ragged nails. He and Baz hurriedly hammered scraps of wood across the office doorway. Horace seemed totally exhausted; he sat on the stairs and watched silently.

Willa turned to the parlour. Belle was looking very pleased with herself.

“No need to look. I found them,” she crowed.

“Belle! That's fantastic!” Willa gave her an impulsive hug and felt the bony shoulders melt a little. She held out her hand for the needles but Belle shook her head.

“No, no. I'll look after them.”

Willa felt her face growing hot. “Belle! We don't have time to argue!”

“So stop arguing!”

“Give them to me right now!”

Willa surprised herself. She sounded like her mom. She was talking to Belle as if the mermaid were a small child. She felt a twinge of guilt. Belle was staring back at her in that I'm-not-to-be-meddled-with way.

“I may be old and I may be foolish, but I am
not
totally useless!”

Willa still felt she was in the right.
She
was the one to safeguard the needles, but there was no way to get them, short of strong-arming an old woman in a wheelchair, and she wasn't about to do that.

“All right,” she sighed. “Where do you have them?”

Belle's hand slipped into her sweater pocket. Willa just nodded and turned away.

The office doorway was haphazardly boarded up now. Everyone stepped back to wait.

Willa headed out the back door and hurried into the trees. The fairies were all about, sitting in branches and armed with slivers of spears, or bows and arrows. Willa pulled Mab from her pocket, stirring and newly awake. Willa breathed a sigh of relief as Mab blinked, trying weakly to sit up. The fairies scowled at the sight of her, but Willa would have none of it.

“I don't care if you've got some stupid old feud with her. She needs your help right now! We could lose everything here, you've GOT to do the right thing!”

Willa felt the desperation in her voice, but she was so forceful that the fairies paused, exchanging looks. Then they directed Willa to a hollow in a tree. She lay Mab down and watched as they covered her up with leaves and feathers.

“Thank you,” Willa called back as she hurried off.

Next Willa went to see Dinah. The dinosaur's chin rested on the windowsill and she eyed the office warily. Willa suddenly felt tired, very tired. She leaned against Dinah, closing her eyes for a moment. All was silent. Nothing moved. There was no breeze, no air. It was as if her ears were plugged with cotton. Willa squeezed her eyes shut, enjoying the silence and willing it to continue. It didn't.

There was a strange whooshing sound next, like an underground river, and a breeze hit her.

She opened her eyes. The black hole was now bulging into the office, like a great black bubble of nothing about to burst into the room. As Willa and Dinah stared, the bubble wobbled and snapped, and darkness flowed into the room.

When the thick black liquid had covered the floor it began to pull together and solidify. A form took shape, long and snake-like, but huge. The tail end disappeared into the black hole. The front end swung back and forth. The face was blank, featureless. Then, as Willa stared, a mouth ripped open and a barbed black tongue snapped out, whipping around the room. Searching. The massive beast filled the room, thrashing its tongue back and forth like a blind man's cane.

Unable to move or even breathe, Willa watched. How could they fight
that?