The Beasts of Upton Puddle (24 page)

“I see. I think I know what you're thinking.”

“Right. I'll go see Kurt tomorrow and tell him if he wants the map he has to cover for me
and
make sure I'm invited for tea tomorrow night.”

“Do you think it will work?”

Joe tried not to think about the risks. “It has to. I don't know what else to try.”

Joe woke with a jump. The sound of a buzzer echoed around the walls of the vault, and a burning sensation crept over his fingers. It took a few startled seconds for Joe to realize that after falling asleep cradling Kiyoshi's head in his hands, he'd jogged some of the cloudy yellow goo out of Kiyoshi's cranial vent and onto his skin when the alarm sounded.

“Aah!” Joe leapt to his feet, wrung his hands, wiped his hands on his trousers, and before he'd even considered what he was doing, he'd plopped his fingers into his mouth to suck away the burning pain.

Kiyoshi, having also woke with a start, looked up at Joe with a disdainful frown.

“Wok
is
gak htuff in your heg?” Joe asked, sticking his tongue out. “Ik's burnged ngy ngouf.”

“Are you educated in adenology, chemistry, or herpetology? If not, I fail to perceive any value in providing
you with an answer.”

Danariel fluttered down from the skylight. “Joe, the delivery has arrived.”

Joe swallowed. The burning in his mouth had settled into a peculiar tingling sensation. “Is that what the buzzer was about?”

“Yes, it's an alarm that lets Heinrich or Veronica know when someone knocks on the door.”

“I'd better go up there, then. Can you keep an eye on Kiyoshi for a minute?”

Joe felt a lightness in his body as he made cautious steps toward the door. His mouth was dry, and he felt a curious sensation, like floating upside down in a vat of jelly with earmuffs on. What was in that head soup of Kiyoshi's? Had he poisoned himself? For a moment Joe thought he would pass out, but the world around him remained clear. He hardly noticed the door as he pulled it open. It seemed completely weightless. Running up the stairs, through the pantry, and along the hallway required no effort at all.

He opened the main door and was confronted by a tall man with a clipboard. The man looked so tired that the flat cap on his head seemed to weigh him down.

“Delivery. Sign and date here please.” He pointed a nicotine-stained finger at an empty box on a piece of yellow paper, then handed Joe a pen.

“Can I see it first?” Joe asked.

“Sure.” The man shuffled to the back of his van.
“Not much to see, though.” He unlocked a padlock and swung the double doors open to reveal a large wooden crate covered in various warning labels and punctured with tiny air holes.

“What's inside?”

“How should I know? We never know. It's all very hush-hush.” He tapped the side of his nose.

“What d'you mean, hush-hush? It's not illegal, is it?”

“Nah, I didn't mean like that. It's just a bit . . . weird. Merrynether's crates always get picked up from the middle of a field somewhere up-country. Nobody ever sees who drops them there, but we get instructions to pick them up ready for collection. Then some shifty-lookin' bloke with a hood, Mr. Kreiger I think his name is, comes to pick them up from the warehouse a few hours later and brings them back 'ere . . . Anyway, can't stand around chattin'. Delivery code's there,” he said, pointing. “Got a fork truck or someone to 'elp?”

“Uh, no!”

“You'd better 'ave strong arms, then, boy. It's half past three in the morning, so don't expect me to start heavin' stuff about.”

Joe stared at the man.

The man stared back. “I'll get the rest of the paperwork,” he said eventually and sauntered to the front of the van.

Joe tested the corner of the crate. It felt as light as Styrofoam. “There can't be much in here,” he called.

“Took a forklift to get it on, mate,” the man shouted back, one leg dangling out the door as he rooted around for more documents.

Joe pulled at the crate again and found that he could lift it from the floor of the van without even trying. The van sprang slightly upwards as Joe proceeded to pull the crate clear and rest it on the ground.

The man came back with some crumpled envelopes. He frowned at the crate, then at Joe.

“How did you—? That must weigh at least two hundred kilos.”

“Feels empty to me.”

The man tried to lift a corner. It didn't budge. He looked around him, then squinted at Joe before looking around again. “Clever trick, that. How'd you do it?”

Unable to give him an answer, Joe simply winked, flexed an arm and pointed at his bicep.

“All right.” The man smiled. “Have it your way, then. Keep your secrets. I'm off to bed.”

When the delivery man had driven off, Joe lifted the crate again. He walked inside the mansion and, still holding the crate with only one hand, shut the main door.

“Awesome!” Joe said to himself. “Kappa juice. It must be the kappa juice.”

As he carried the crate down to the vault, however, it grew heavier and heavier until finally he had to drop
it just inside the door.

The kappa trundled to Joe, and Danariel flew in gentle circles above him.

“I feel like Superman,” Joe said. “At least, I did a minute ago.” Cold sweat beaded over his skin.

“The effects are not of a permanent nature,” said Kiyoshi. “You should expect a brief period of hypothermic Meleagris gallopavo in precisely twenty seconds.”

“Hypo- what?”

“Cold turkey,” said Danariel. “You'd better sit down. It's not pleasant. Kiyoshi? Will you open the crate?”

Joe fell into Heinrich's chair and clapped his hands over his mouth. His insides felt like a washing machine on maximum spin with a full load of cold, wet towels, and it was all he could do to resist the urge to throw up. Hoping to distract himself from the impending vomit, he watched Kiyoshi stretch his amphibious legs out of his shell and grasp one side of the crate while keeping his head perfectly level. The kappa tore the wooden panels off with terrifying ease, and by the time the crate had been stripped down, Joe's temptation to gag had been replaced by the thrill of wonderment.

A beast almost twice the size of a crocodile lay coiled and sleeping amidst the splintered wood. Joe had no doubt it was some kind of reptile, but like everything else he'd encountered in Merrynether Mansion, it was different from any creature he'd seen in any book or TV documentary before. The creature's scaly skin
had an oily black sheen that shimmered black, purple, and blue as its body rose and fell with its slow breathing. A large arrow-shaped head rested on a thick tail, and across its spiny back, two bony wings lay folded like closed umbrellas.

Joe made no effort to hide his excitement as he spoke. “Is that . . . Is it a dragon?”

“It's a—”

Kiyoshi spoke over Danariel. “Goodness, no! Consider the scale pigmentation and dimensions. Also take note of its claws.” Kiyoshi thrust a suckered hand underneath the thickest section of the beast's body and lifted it with almost no effort. A formidable set of talons were tucked underneath.

“Two legs?”

“Indeed. Dragons are endowed with four.”

“A dinosaur, then?”

“The etymology for the word
dinosaur
is Greek and means terrible lizard, so indeed, you may name it as such, but the true designation is
wyvern
.”

“A wyvern. Is it dangerous?”

“Very dangerous.” The answer didn't come from Kiyoshi or Danariel, but Joe recognized the accent instantly.

“Heinrich!”

Apparently the German giant had entered the vault while Kiyoshi had ripped the crate apart. Cornelius stood by Heinrich's side, head lifted proudly and barbed tail waving like a serpent behind him. Both looked exhausted.
Heinrich had three bloody gashes across his right cheek, and his long coat had been shredded in several places. The manticore didn't look much better with his ruffled fur and bare patches where clumps had apparently been torn from his mane.

Joe eyed Heinrich. Part of him was overjoyed to see the old man again, but another part wanted to run as far from him as possible.

Danariel, still unaware of Joe's discovery at Redwar Industries, darted to Heinrich and planted her glowing body across the width of his face, her wings fluttering in delight.

Joe simply stared, unsure what to do or say.

“Hello, Danariel.” Heinrich tried to smile. “Step aside, Joe. Snappel is heavily sedated, but she will be disorientated and afraid when I wake her. I must lead her to an enclosure before she is fully alert . . . Where is Ronnie? Did you not find her?”

Danariel flew down to greet Cornelius.

“No. What happened to you?” Joe asked, his voice monotone.

Heinrich threw a questioning glance at Joe, then crouched near the wyvern's head. “We entered the burrow and found a very big network of tunnels. It is a maze down there.” He lifted the lizard's top jowl and examined a row of fangs. “We found no sign of Ronnie, but Cornelius caught the scent of the Beast and we tracked it down, hoping she would be near. We did our best to
capture it, but it was too fast and strong. I was injured, and then it burrowed into the earth again.”

Heinrich's voice cracked as he continued. “She could still be down there . . . hurt or . . .” He glanced around, fighting back grief. “I need rope and an apple.”

“Like you said in the first place, I think she's with Redwar,” said Joe, still cold in his response, “but we need to get into a restricted area.”

“How?” asked Heinrich, finding an apple on his desk and a coil of rope hanging on a hook near Cornelius's enclosure.

“Leave that to me,” said Joe, unwilling to give Heinrich any more information than he had to.

“Very well, but once I have secured Snappel, I am going back to the burrows to look for Ronnie. I cannot rest until she is found, and we do not know for sure that she is being held by Redwar.”

“Do what you want.”

“Are you all right? You seem a little . . .”

A heavy silence fell between them. All that could be heard was the steady rhythmic thump of Flarp bouncing off the wall and Cornelius's baritone purring as Danariel glided through his fur.

“Have you got somewhere for me to sleep with a locked door? If you're going out to look for Mrs. Merrynether again, I want to be here if you find her.”

“Of course, but there is no need for you to lock the door.”

Joe didn't answer. Weariness dragged at his eyelids. He desperately wanted to be at home in bed, swallowed up by his warm quilt. Absently, he watched Heinrich tie a set of complicated knots around the head and body of the wyvern and wondered why thoughts of sleep were sending nagging danger signals at the back of his mind. Sleep was good, wasn't it?

Kiyoshi!

“Where's Kiyoshi?” said Joe, instantly snapping out of his daydream.

Danariel launched into the air.

Heinrich stopped what he was doing and looked around.

“There,” said Danariel.

Kiyoshi had fallen asleep by the side of Heinrich's desk, yellow stuff oozing from his vent.

Joe rushed over, tripped on a plank, and clattered to the floor, waking not only the kappa but the serpentine creature Heinrich was trying to secure.

“Great thundering ogres,” Kiyoshi exclaimed. “What in the cosmos was that terrible cacophony?”

A roar rumbled through the walls of the vault, and Joe shuffled around on hands and knees to see the huge lizard rise clumsily from its coiled position. Fiery red eyes burned with apparent panic as it staggered, huge talons clacking on the floor as it fought to regain balance. Its wings unfolded and flapped like a great black tent caught in a high wind.

Heinrich pulled at the ropes, the veins in his head standing out as he struggled against the wyvern's strength.

“Whoa, Snappel. Careful, girl. Nobody's going to hurt you.”

The creature's roar was followed up with a short, sharp burp. For a second the beast stopped moving and looked surprised at itself. Then in a sudden spasmodic jerk, it hiccupped and sent a jet of fire into the air, narrowly missing Heinrich's scalp. Snappel wavered, whoozy from the aftereffects of anesthetic, and Heinrich let go of the rope.

“You're about to see how she got her name,” said Heinrich. He held the apple above his head and called to the creature. “Snappel! Look what I have here. A nice, juicy apple. Look!”

He waved it around for a second or two, then threw it into Cornelius's enclosure. With the speed of a heat-seeking missile, the wyvern shot into the manticore's old home and clamped her jaws on the fruit before it even came close to landing. The lizard flipped her head upright, snapped her jaws twice more, and then swallowed.

Heinrich slammed the door of the enclosure, but Snappel seemed unconcerned. With a final dazed look around, she collapsed into her former coiled position and closed her eyes.