Eldritch Manor (8 page)

They walked in silence and darkness, moving in and out of the pools of streetlight. Willa's mom seemed totally lost in thought. Finally, in front of their house Willa could stand it no longer.

“So … is it okay? Can I stay there nights?”

Her dad tipped his head doubtfully and looked at her mom, who snapped out of her reverie at the question.

“Oh, right. I, uh …” Willa was surprised. Her mom hadn't even been thinking about the issue. What was on her mind?

Dad jumped to her defence. “I thought you showed a lot of maturity there, Willa. Saving dinner and all. And looking after those poor old dears when they get sick. I was very impressed.” He put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a little squeeze. Willa smiled. Good old Dad. They both turned to Mom, expectant.

She gazed at the two of them for a moment and suddenly looked very tired. “Yes, you managed wonderfully. I think this is a good experience for you.” She paused. “You can stay there starting tomorrow, but if anything gets out of hand you give us a call, any time of the day or night, all right?”

Willa couldn't believe her ears. She nodded eagerly. “Okay, I will. Thanks, Mom! Thanks, Dad!”

“Only ...” her mom wasn't finished, “... about Belle. She's … I wouldn't trust her, honey. Just try to avoid her if you can. I mean it. Watch out for her.” And with that she turned on her heel and strode up to the front door.

Willa and Dad exchanged puzzled looks as Mom jangled the keys in the lock.

“They didn't say
anything
to each other?” whispered Willa.

Her dad shook his head. “Not a word.”

Willa's mom disappeared into the dark house.

Willa moves in and the place falls apart

T
he
next morning Willa woke with a foggy brain. Her limbs felt heavy and slow. She had slept very strangely, a deep, smothering kind of sleep, with no dreams.

She packed a small bag of essentials and headed over to the boarding house, yawning all the way. She couldn't shake off the drowsiness.

The house was very quiet, which made Willa uneasy. Belle sat in the upstairs hall, gloomily staring out at the backyard. Willa asked her which room she should stay in.

Belle shrugged. “I don't care. Suit yourself.”

Willa chose a turret room on the top floor. It was smaller than the other rooms, but she liked it because it was round and had a little window seat with a worn red velvet cushion. She peered out the window, down at the people in the street. Ordinary people going to the store or work. Ordinary kids biking to the park and meeting up with their friends. They seemed very far away, like she was watching them through a telescope. She unpacked her clothes and toothbrush and such, and went in search of the others.

Horace was in the library as usual, but his book lay open and unread in his lap as he snoozed with his head propped in his hand. Fadiyah was hopping about restlessly on her perch. Willa put her hand on the bars of the cage and the bird stopped and looked at her. As usual, waves of reassurance wafted over her, like a gentle breeze. She took a deep breath and felt calm. The bird nodded.

Baz was still asleep. Willa could hear her snoring through the heavy door. Robert's room, however, was empty. Willa hurried back to Belle, still at the window.

“Belle! Where's Robert?”

The old lady raised an eyebrow. “Oh, Robert had a fine time last night, thanks to the Scotch. You should have heard him carrying on … the old goat.”

“But where is he? Where did he go?”

Belle nodded toward the yard. “He was partying with the floozies back there.”

“Who?” Willa was confused.

“The wood nymphs,” Belle answered wearily as she wheeled away. “I need a nap.”

Tengu was in the dining room with his head down on the table, fast asleep. Willa gently shook his arm.

“Tengu! Wake up! We have to go find Robert.”

He lifted his bleary head and blinked. “Okay.”

“Why is everyone so tired? How late did you stay up?”

“Oh, I went to bed right away, but I didn't sleep well. Don't feel rested at all.”

“I had the same kind of night.” Willa yawned, and they went out the kitchen door into the misty back garden.

The stable was straight ahead, in the back left corner of the property, but it could barely be seen, covered in ivy and drowning in tall grass. To the right of the stable was a stand of trees, strung heavily with vines and moss. Further to the right, next to the high fence that separated them from the Hacketts, was an open sunny area, but it was so clogged with grasses and prickly blackberry bushes that it was even more impassable than the woods.

Tengu led the way into the trees, following the loud sound of snoring. He pushed aside the branches and thorns for Willa, but she still found it hard to keep up with the agile little man. Once she heard a strange breath, like a sigh, that came from all sides at once. It sounded ancient and sad and chilled her to the bone. She hurried to catch up to Tengu, who was waiting for her.

“You'd better stick with me. Don't want you wandering off on your own. You might fall in the pool or something.”

“There's a pool?”

He waved vaguely toward the open area. “Yes, but it's all grown over, full of weeds and slimy things. Best left alone.” They continued on.

Finally, beside the stable, they came upon a very strange sight. Robert was sound asleep sitting against the stone wall. Lying on the ground around him were a couple dozen little fairies, also asleep. With their long hair matted and their leafy clothing in severe disarray, they looked like discarded dolls. All was quiet except for snoring, Robert's booming and the wood nymphs' squeaky little snorts.

Willa couldn't help but laugh. “So these are wood nymphs!”

Tengu nodded, also giggling a little. “A real disgrace, they are.”

Willa always had an eye on the Hackett house. To her relief the corner of the garden where Robert and the nymphs were passed out was shielded from the neighbours' sight by thick vines and branches. However, they had to traverse a rather open area of the yard to get back in the house, so she fetched a blanket to throw over Robert's head and shoulders. It was quite a struggle, but they finally got him to his feet, or his hooves, and he lurched toward the back door, moaning and grumbling.

Willa could see Mr. and Mrs. Hackett sitting in their kitchen, and when Robert's hooves hit the back steps with a loud thud, Mr. Hackett leaned to peer out the window at them. Pulling the blanket firmly over Robert's head, Willa and Tengu desperately shoved him into the kitchen, resulting in more crashing and cursing. Willa was stumbling up the steps, about to follow them inside, when she heard Mr. Hackett.

“Oh, Willaaaa!” He was on the back step now, hands on his hips. He wore that smug look that could only mean he had a grievance.

Willa sighed and conjured up a cheerful expression. “Hello, Mr. Hackett.”

“Was that a horse I just saw? It's against zoning to have livestock, you know.”

“No, no,” Willa laughed nervously. “It's not a real horse, just a costume. We, uh, had a costume party last night. I hope we didn't make too much noise.” She knew the mention of noise would divert Mr. Hackett's attention away from Robert. Noise was one of his favourite topics. She was right.

“Indeed! An unholy row it was, and after midnight too!” He was just getting revved up when Mrs. Hackett popped her head out the door.

“Later than that. I looked at my bedside clock and it said one thirty-seven precisely. I remember. One thirty-seven.”

“It's really unacceptable, Willa,” continued Mr. Hackett. “I very nearly called the police.”

“Oh, thank you for not calling. It won't happen again. We won't have any more parties, I promise.”

“I should hope not,” sniffed Mrs. Hackett, patting her curlers and disappearing inside. Mr. Hackett remained, still peering curiously at the house. Willa smiled brightly, edging away.

“Welllll, anyway ... sorry for your trouble. Have a nice day!” As she opened the kitchen door there was another loud crash from inside. She gave Mr. Hackett another smile and a shrug, and hurried inside.

Robert had paused for a breather, leaning against the kitchen wall, and Tengu was picking up the chairs he'd knocked over. Willa took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts.

“Okay. We'll get Robert up to his room where he can sleep it off.” Robert merely grunted in reply and rubbed his eyes. Willa squinted out the window. “I hope the nymphs are all right out there.”

“They'll have to be,” replied Tengu. “We can't bring them in here. They don't get along with Mab
at all
. Some kind of fairy feud.”

Willa froze. “Omigosh. Mab!”

Rushing into the parlour, she retrieved the tiny key from the mantlepiece and paused before the dollhouse. She'd locked Mab in there before dinner last night and had forgotten to let her out again. She unclicked the lock and swung the side of the house open to see Mab sitting on the bed, arms crossed and staring daggers at her. The fairy's face was purple with rage. Willa stuttered her apologies but Mab silently glared her down. Willa was relieved for the distraction of Robert clip-clopping through the house, moaning piteously. She joined Tengu, watching helplessly as the centaur staggered up the stairs, leaning against the wall or the bannister, which creaked under his weight, threatening imminent collapse. At the top he knocked a painting off the wall, slumped around the corner, and finally disappeared into his room.

Willa sighed. “No more booze for Robert.”

Willa awoke the next morning to the strangest sound she'd ever heard, like a trumpet being strangled. She opened her eyes and had a moment of confusion, taking in the dark, musty room instead of her bright, clean room at home. Then she remembered where she was, and knew the noise to be Tengu greeting the day with his rooster impression. She looked up at the ceiling, and her brain felt just as dusty, cracked, and cobwebby as the room around her. This was the second night she hadn't had any dreams, and her head felt like it was filled with mud. Every thought required great effort and she felt vaguely anxious.

She moved clumsily down the stairs. It was like she was on a planet with a force of gravity that made her weigh twice as much as she did on Earth, only she couldn't remember whether it was small planets or big planets that would do that. Her thoughts were scattered and leaden. It was only when she glanced over at Fadiyah, serene and dignified in her cage in the parlour, that she felt calm and capable again.

In the dining room it was evident that she wasn't the only one who was having trouble waking up. Belle was snoring in her chair in the corner, her head tipped back and mouth open. Horace stared blankly into space and rubbed his temples.

“Good morning,” Willa ventured, just as the kitchen door swung open and banged her elbow. Baz shuffled in with the teapot and cups on a tray. She paused to yawn, her hands shaking with the force of it, and tea slopped onto the floor.

Nobody had much to say, other than that they were all sleeping poorly and without dreams, just like Willa. And it was taking its toll. Even the normally chipper Tengu was subdued. Robert didn't get out of bed until noon, but that could have been due to the crashing hangover he claimed to still have. Mab, on the other hand, seemed energetic enough, even spritely. Willa was positive she caught a smirk on her face when the others complained about being tired. Mab was still mad, though, about being locked up, and wouldn't speak to anyone.

Over the next few days Willa wearily struggled to keep up with her duties, only leaving the house to buy groceries and to go home one night for dinner. At the table she could barely keep up a conversation and yawned so much her parents were alarmed.

“How hard are those oldsters working you?” her dad wanted to know. “Aren't you getting enough sleep?”

Willa insisted that she was. In fact, she was going to bed embarrassingly early these days, at eight or nine o'clock.

And she wasn't the only one. Everyone in the house was sleeping in later each day, napping frequently through the day, and heading upstairs to go to bed at earlier and earlier hours in the evening, yet with each passing day they grew more tired. Conversations became rare and made little to no sense as everyone forgot what they were about to say. They were all clumsier, stumbling and dropping things. Even the bird stared with dull eyes and wobbled on her perch, nearly falling off.

On the fifth day of this sleepiness Willa felt a need for some fresh air to clear her head and ventured out into the backyard jungle. She had waited until she saw the Hacketts leave in their car. She wanted to be alone and not have to chit-chat with those two. Keeping in mind the overgrown pool Tengu said was back there, she proceeded very cautiously, probing the tangled weeds ahead of her with a long stick. The air was thick and muggy, and her hair started to stick to her forehead and the back of her neck.

She soon reached the clearing. It was low-lying and rather soggy underfoot, so she was glad to spot a large, sloping grey stone emerging from the damp moss. She clambered up on it and sat down to think. She was worried. Why were they all so tired? It didn't seem normal. Was a magic spell causing it? Was this being done by the enemies Horace had spoken about? Willa wished Miss Trang would get back soon. She'd know what to do.

Willa yawned. She lay back on the rock and yawned again, the kind of yawn that makes you wonder if it's ever going to end. And when it finally did end she heard someone yawn back. Or rather she
felt
it. The yawn surrounded her and vibrated through her body, a yawn so big and deep that she sat up in alarm. The rock beneath her was shifting.

An earthquake!
she thought, and scrambled off, but the ground was still. She poked the rock with her stick and it shuddered.

Her heart beat wildly. The yard was silent, still. She wanted to run into the house and call the others, but ... she couldn't help herself. She inched forward through the thick brush, uncovering more of the rock — or whatever it was — and repeatedly poking it with the stick. Each time she did it twitched and rippled a little, like a muscle flexing. When she found the edge of the thing, she proceeded around its perimeter, which turned out to be a perfect, straight-edged rectangle. It was the pool. But a pool should be a hole in the ground, and this was a mound, a perfectly rectangular mound. It took Willa's weary brain a moment or two to come up with the answer. The pool was filled with something large, grey, and leathery. Something that yawned and moved. It was time to get the others.