The Book of Beasts (14 page)

Em's eyes filled with tears. Her grandfather had never yelled at her like that before. Zach sat forward watchfully.

‘I'm sorry, Em,' Renard said in a more gentle tone. ‘I'm worried about Matt and Jeannie… and you.'

He leaned over and drew her into a big hug. For a few beats Em felt as safe and loved and as comforted as she had in ages. She desperately wanted to tell him that she had a plan, but she couldn't… not yet. She gave him a watery smile instead.

Renard pulled his glasses from his head and tapped them on the table. ‘Now,' he said, ‘on with the hunt.'

Em watched her grandfather head back to the library with a mug of tea in his hand. Her feelings were a confused mixture of anxiety and anger. She suspected that Renard had just inspirited her, quieting her emotions enough to sense that she was lying to him.

The folder refused to be found.

‘Maybe you left it sitting on the postbox when you fetched the post, Renard,' said Sandie, pouring Zach and Em glasses of milk. ‘I've done that before.'

‘Zach and I can walk down to the postbox and check if you like,' Em suggested.

She did her best to project an image in her mind of Jeannie making dumplings to protect her thoughts from Renard's penetrating gaze.

Renard turned to Simon. ‘Are you sure the compound hasn't been breached? I've been feeling strange since yesterday. Something's up, I can feel it.' He rubbed the back of his neck.

‘I'll walk the wall again and check for residual light from an animation,' said Simon, ‘but you did only wake from your coma a couple of weeks ago. It's been a stressful few days.'

‘Have some lunch, Renard,' said Sandie. ‘Think on a full stomach.'

Renard sat at the counter and accepted his toasted cheese. ‘Ah, the lunch of kings,' he said wryly.

‘I'm doing my best,' Sandie protested. ‘I thought I'd try Jeannie's chicken pesto recipe for dinner.' She eyed Simon. ‘If Simon ever gets around to picking basil from the garden.'

‘No sooner said than done,' answered Simon, opening a kitchen drawer. He rummaged around for a few seconds, a frown forming on his face. ‘That's weird,' he said, turning round empty-handed. ‘Jeannie's garden scissors aren't in their usual place.'

Em saw the garden scissors flash into her mind. She knew exactly where they were. She stood up from the table, tightening her concentration so as not to allow Renard access to her thoughts as she slowly and deliberately loaded her empty plate and glass into the dishwasher.

‘Try the shed. Maybe she left them down there,' said Renard.

‘I doubt it,' said Simon. ‘She really splurged to buy these. I can't see her leaving them in that damp old hut.'

‘I was in there this morning getting a rake… to clean up the beach,' said Em quickly. ‘The only things in there are the mower and bags of potting soil.'

Zach frowned at her.
When were you in Jeannie's shed? You hate being in there. It's full of spiders.

Em had been ignoring Zach a lot lately. She felt bad about it, but she had to keep him out of her mind at the moment. She tried not to look at the hurt expression on his face.

Renard glanced suspiciously at them both. So did Simon.

‘What's going on with you two?' said Sandie, looking at Em and Zach more closely. ‘You've been strange with each other all morning. Something we should know about?'

‘Ask Em,' Zach signed, shrugging.

‘Nothing's going on!' Em protested, doing her best to avoid eye contact with Renard.

Renard raised his eyebrows. ‘I doubt that's the truth, but I won't press you.'

What you don't know won't hurt you.

As soon as she thought it, Em knew from the look on Renard's face that she'd made a mistake.

‘If we're going to work out a plan to retrieve Matt and Jeannie from the Middle Ages before Malcolm uses one or both of them to access Hollow Earth,' her grandfather said, looking sharply at her, ‘then we need to work
together
. And that means no more secrets.'

Em could feel his accusation like a flashing neon light in her mind.

‘Understood?'

Em nodded meekly.

‘Me too,' signed Zach.

Renard headed out to the foyer. He turned back at the door. ‘Em and Zach, come to my study after you've checked the front gate for the folder. I believe we need to talk.'

Em breathed a sigh of relief as her grandfather left. He was getting too close to the truth for comfort. She glanced at Zach, but he wouldn't look at her.

‘Now this is really a bit much,' said Sandie, making a lot of noise shifting dishes around in the cupboard above the cooker. ‘I wanted to follow Jeannie's recipe to the letter and use her pestle and mortar to crush the garlic and pine nuts, and I can't find them.'

‘What's wrong with the food processor?' asked Simon.

‘I thought I'd do it Jeannie's way,' Sandie answered, her voice catching in her throat. ‘Without gadgets. Matt… Matt always loved it.'

Em couldn't bear the sadness on her mother's face. Rushing across the kitchen, she hugged Sandie. ‘Matt and Jeannie are both going to be all right, Mum,' she said. ‘I can feel it.'

Sandie cupped Em's face in her hands. ‘I know,' she said. ‘I'm just worried about them. But I have faith in Renard. He'll find a way to bring them both home safely.' Dropping a kiss on Em's head, she moved back briskly to the cooker. ‘Are you and Zach happy to take a walk down the lane and check for that missing folder by the postbox? Simon will de-animate the shield for you.'

The winding driveway snaked from the iron gate off Auchinmurn's main road to the Abbey's massive oak door. Centuries ago, the lane had been a camouflaged trail that pirates used for smuggling their contraband inland from the island's hidden coves. Now cultivated with low hedgerows and trimmed trees, its original stone-and-shell gravel tarred and smooth, the driveway was the only access to the Abbey other than from the sea or through the dense woods north of the wall.

Up ahead shafts of sunlight filtered through the trees, creating long shadows across their path. Em watched them shift and stretch as she walked, and was soon imagining the shadows peeling themselves from the ground and rising up like tall tin soldiers to lead the way.

The surface of the tar rippled in the sunlight. Em stopped, suddenly afraid of what the shadows might become.

Zach stared at her curiously. ‘You OK?'

A salty breeze rustled the trees, a cloud sliced across the sun, and the shadows vanished. Em exhaled slowly, relaxing her muscles and her mind. She was pleased that her lessons with Simon about controlling her imagination were paying off. The tall tin soldiers stayed inside her head, where they belonged.

‘I thought I saw a deer,' she signed to Zach, determined to keep her emotions in check and her conversation light.

Zach's anxiety for Matt made Em sad. Not the kind of sadness that she felt about Matt being gone – that felt as if a hole had opened in her heart, a hole that made her gasp for breath at the oddest moments. But the kind of sadness that makes you want to cheer the person up, to make them smile, to help shake it off, to make their heart lighter.

‘Do you want to race to the gate?' Em signed, nudging him with her elbow.

‘Not really.' He rolled an acorn in his hand, before tossing it into the air and kicking it into the surrounding trees. He stepped off the path and into the long grass to gather up more acorns.

What's going on with you, Em?

Em flinched.
Nothing.

Don't lie to me.

I'm not.

Em could feel Zach's anger like a white heat behind her eyes. Then, in an instant, it was gone. Instead, a pale blue light danced in Em's head. It curled like a silk ribbon around her thoughts.

I know you're keeping something from me.

Em had to distract him. Without thinking too hard about what she was going to do, she stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed Zach on the lips.

He backed away, his face flushed and full of confusion. ‘Why did you do that?'

Em shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. ‘I thought you might like it. I thought—'

‘Well… well… I didn't!'

He marched on ahead, leaving Em with a pile of acorns at her feet. She picked one up and fired it at Zach, missing his head by centimetres.

Boys are stupid and annoying! I hate them!

Zach glared back at her before disappearing round a curve in the lane.

Auchinmurn Isle
The Middle Ages

‘I feel bad about leaving Carik in the cave,' said Matt, sitting behind Solon on the broad, gleaming back of the white peryton as it circled silently above the Abbey in the darkness.

‘You saw how her wound pains her and slows her down,' said Solon. The peryton banked towards the monastery, its white wings as silent as clouds. ‘She needs to rest. If we are to find
The
Book of Beasts
before your father does, we need to be quick. It's better for her to sleep.'

‘I still think we should rescue Jeannie and Brother Renard first,' said Matt stubbornly.

‘We need
The
Book of Beasts
to bargain with,' Solon pointed out. ‘We will look first in the Abbot's tower, where I last saw the manuscript.'

Thanks to Carik's hunting skills they had feasted on a fat rabbit earlier, and Matt always felt more amenable on a full stomach. ‘Fine,' he grumbled. ‘I just hope you're right.'

As the peryton glided over the tops of the trees, Matt saw the monastery's portcullis was secured. One of its animated hellhound guardians was prostrate near the gatehouse. Every few seconds, the hellhound's fiery breath flamed into the darkness.

Suddenly the massive hound leaped to its feet and into the centre of the courtyard. It stopped and raised its burning snout into the air as if trailing the scent of sheep or cattle.

‘Let's try to avoid that thing,' said Matt, shivering.

Before Solon could nudge the peryton towards a hidden patch behind a buttress for the Great Hall, the beast gently glided to the exact spot and alighted, folding its wings away. Matt and Solon slipped silently from its back. Pressing his hand to the peryton's neck in thanks, Matt felt warmth and comfort, but something else: a feeling of disquiet. Not quite danger, but dread.

The darkness was oppressive and the noises from the forest and the sea already had Matt's nerves on edge. He thought he'd grown to tolerate the stink of the Middle Ages, but he was wrong. He pulled the front of his hoodie up over his mouth and tried not to gag.

The entire area was thick with mud, manure and human waste from the outhouses that had taken the brunt of the wave when it collapsed. The water had washed anything not tacked down through the shattered part of the outer wall and into the central courtyard. Hundreds of splintered pieces of wood from barrels, crockery, scythes and other field tools, stools and benches littered the courtyard. A bloated goat's carcass floated against Matt's foot. Solon didn't seem to notice any of it.