The Peculiar Night of the Blue Heart (12 page)

Meanwhile out in the hallway, Lionel kept guard over Marybeth and the blue creature both. He would not sleep. Tonight, he was the nocturnal owl, lingering up in the trees where he could see all. He was silent and invisible. If anything came out of the darkness that posed a threat, he would swoop.

But the only threat that came was the morning's first light. It meant that soon Marybeth would be gone.

With the light, so also came the sound of the older ones getting out of their beds. Drawers were pulled open. Feet moved across the floorboards. Lionel shrank against the wall and made himself a chameleon as dingy and green as the peeling paper on the walls.

He did such a good job of it that even Marybeth walked past him. He watched her trod down the hallway as though some bird of prey were carrying her in its talons, flying so low that her feet still dragged against the ground.

When he saw her again at the breakfast table, she looked very much like a girl: clean and braided and sitting up straight. She didn't eat. She had to subdue the blue creature. Fortunately, with the way the older ones clambered and fought over each crumb on the table, Marybeth didn't have to resist temptation for very long before there was nothing left to tempt her.

The older ones lined up and followed one another out the door, one after the next. Shoving and giggling and chattering, they didn't look back to see Marybeth still sitting at the table, staring at the empty spot where the plates had been.

They were silly creatures. Lionel had always thought so. They wouldn't notice when Marybeth was gone. They wouldn't notice that the entire world had changed.

Lionel crawled under the table and tugged at the hem of Marybeth's skirt so that she would join him. She was wearing a dress that was an unnatural shade of mint green, both bright and faded at the same time, with a bibbed collar and three white buttons that didn't button anything.

She folded her legs neatly as she settled. She was trying so very hard to be human.

Lionel leaned close to her. “Let's run away,” he said.

“Where?” Marybeth asked.

“Somewhere far. Maybe France.”

“We'd need a boat,” she said.

“No,” he said. “We'd lie on our backs on the water and float the whole way. Just us. We could do it.”

“And what would we do when we got to France?”

“Live in the wild, where it's just the trees and the animals. We wouldn't have to study a bit; I already know the language.”

“Is there a lot of wilderness in France?” Marybeth said, and giggled. But Lionel had been quite serious, and he frowned. He had not done a proper job convincing her, and he opened his mouth to try to say something more persuasive, but he was interrupted when the front door opened.

Lionel's nostrils flared. He always knew their tutor by the perfume she wore, like something sweet that had
been left sitting out for too long and had begun to turn rotten.

“Children?” Mrs. Mannerd called from beside the table. “Where have they gotten off to? They were just here a moment ago.”

Marybeth climbed out from under the table and said, “Right here, Mrs. Mannerd.”

Lionel felt horribly alone. He forced himself to follow her. “Can't I go along as well, Mrs. Mannerd?” he said, forcing himself to be polite.

“After the damage you did yesterday, you'll be lucky if I let you set foot out of this house again,” Mrs. Mannerd said, but she didn't sound mad. Her eyes were dark and she looked tired. “If you behave for your tutor and this house is still standing when I return, we'll talk about letting you have your crumbs for the squirrels again sometime this decade. Marybeth, get your coat.” At Lionel's sullen expression, she softened. “I've told you, today is just supposed to be a tour. We'll be back in a few hours.”

Marybeth did as she was told. And then Mrs. Mannerd was steering her outside and saying something about new gloves.

Lionel rushed to the window and watched them get into the car. Only it wasn't a car. It was a giant beast with teeth, about to swallow them whole.

Just as Mrs. Mannerd adjusted the mirror and prepared to back down the driveway, Marybeth opened her door. Quick as a blur she ran back to the house. The screen door slammed against its frame, and before Lionel could move, she had thrown her arms around him.

She kissed his cheek.

He was too stunned to move. And by the time he thought to put his arms around her, she was already gone. Through the window he saw her run back to the car.

He had smelled the cold in her hair. He had felt her human heart beating against his chest.

CHAPTER

14

It was a gray morning. The sort of day that felt like the whole earth had gotten caught inside a storm cloud and the rain would be along any minute.

The blue creature was deep asleep, but Marybeth could feel slight reverberations in her chest, as though it was snoring.

You've gotten me into this mess,
she thought. They had been in the car for more than an hour, and Marybeth didn't know if she would ever see the little red house again. Mrs. Mannerd had called today a tour, but she had also packed some things for Marybeth in a hatbox. It slid across the backseat every time the car hugged a curve in the road.

Marybeth didn't talk. She was afraid that her voice would wake the blue creature, but she also didn't have anything to say. What could she possibly say?

It had been a while since they'd passed any buildings. The trees were all barren. There were no stores. No other cars. The road was overrun with roots.

Mrs. Mannerd gripped the steering wheel. She was a statue of a woman, Marybeth had always thought. Not sentimental or emotional or easy to rattle. Not like her jittery, chatty sister Ms. Gillingham had been. But even Mrs. Mannerd was starting to come undone because of this blue creature, and she didn't even know that the thing existed.

This drive was for the best, Marybeth told herself. It was best for everyone that she was someplace where she couldn't hurt them. To comfort herself she imagined that there would be a garden at this new place, that she could spend her days outside with the sunlight beating down on the part of her hair.

Mrs. Mannerd fidgeted with the map that was resting on the seat beside her. She glanced at it and then at the road. “It should be the next turn,” she said, trying to sound cheerful.

Marybeth gripped her skirt in her fists and willed the blue creature to remain asleep.

The car turned down a road made up mostly of dirt, with some bits of gravel to indicate it had once been cared for. The trees around the road were hunched over, so low that their branches scratched the windows as they drove past.

Mrs. Mannerd cleared her throat.

“Marybeth,” she said, “I want you to know that I've always—that is, I care about your well-being, and this isn't a punishment. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Marybeth said. She did understand; Mrs. Mannerd was only doing what adults did. She and Lionel had tried to fix this, and they had failed.

Mrs. Mannerd stopped the car. She didn't bother to pull off to the shoulder. It didn't seem as though anyone else would be coming up the road anyway.

Mrs. Mannerd turned to face her. “Before we go on, isn't there anything you'd like to say?”

“Like what?” Marybeth asked. She was staring at her lap, and she glanced uneasily at Mrs. Mannerd.

“Like about the morning that you were missing,” Mrs. Mannerd said. She was trying to be patient, and she said her words slowly. “You walked all that way down the road. You must have been thinking something. And all those other times you wandered off.”

Marybeth looked through the windshield. She could not see the building that awaited them farther up the
road, but she could sense it. She was so very far away from anything she had ever known, and there could be no turning around. She swallowed a lump in her throat and tried not to cry.

“Marybeth?”

“I don't remember,” Marybeth whispered.

“I've had plenty of children who were fibbers,” Mrs. Mannerd said. “Enough to tell you that you've never been very good at it.”

Marybeth only gripped at her skirt. She did want to tell the truth, but it wouldn't have helped any. There was no adult on earth who would believe her about the blue creature. Probably this place where she was going was filled with people who had secrets they kept to themselves because no one would believe them.

Eventually, Mrs. Mannerd started driving again.

In the little red house, Lionel was getting increasingly restless. For more than an hour he sat at the dining room table, pretending to care about long division as the tutor droned on.

Normally, Mrs. Mannerd would not leave him alone with the tutor. She said that his antics would give the poor woman an ulcer. But today she needed his cooperation, she said, and begged him to behave like a normal
boy. Behaving like a boy meant he had to be treated like one. And today especially, he had more important matters to tend to.

He couldn't very well just run out the door. The tutor would chase after him, and even if she didn't catch him, she would see where he had gone and call the police.

No. He would have to choose stealth over speed.

He forced himself to cough, and then again, and then again.

The tutor set down her pencil, which she had been using to go over his answers, and she felt his forehead. “What's the matter?” she said. “Are you feeling sick?”

Lionel did his best to look pitiful, and he sniffled and coughed again. “Only a little,” he said feebly. “My throat is scratchy.”

“Oh, dear,” the tutor said. “Is there any medicine in the house? Should I call the doctor?”

“Mrs. Mannerd usually makes a cup of tea for us when we cough,” Lionel said. “With honey.”

The tutor stood. “You just sit right there, then, and I'll be back with some tea.”

Lionel forced his sweetest, most innocent of smiles. His cheeks ached, but the tutor didn't notice. She patted his head and walked into the kitchen. “Where does Mrs. Mannerd keep the honey?”

“In the cabinet above the stove,” Lionel said, already sneaking for the door. This ought to buy him at least a minute or two; there was no honey in the cabinet. One of the older ones had asked for it and Mrs. Mannerd had said that she was not made of money and then she'd gone into a lecture about the cost of things.

For once, Lionel ran outside without slamming the door behind him. He closed it quietly, and darted behind the hedges that bordered the driveway, so that he could make it to the road without being seen.

In his haste, he had even remembered to grab his coat. He was quite proud of himself for remembering, but he also felt restricted by the weight of that thick wool.

Once he reached the road, he became a jungle cat, covering several yards in a second. He would have to be quicker than a little boy could be.

He didn't know how long it took him to get to the farmhouse. Time no longer mattered. The tutor surely knew that he was gone by now, but that didn't matter because Mrs. Mannerd wouldn't be home for hours.

He snuck past the house and into the barn. It was, after all, the place the blue creature kept returning to. Whatever he was looking for, whatever it would take to save Marybeth, it had to be here.

Along the wall, beside old dingy bales of hay, there were some tools that looked as though they hadn't been used in years, rusty and huddled together, sharing a dress made of cobwebs.

The barn still appeared to be in good condition. Lionel had noticed this before. There was no reason for it to be abandoned, and yet it was. There was something hiding here. Lionel was sure of that. Something the blue creature had tried to use Marybeth to dig up. And now Marybeth was gone, and it was up to him.

He reached through the cobwebs for the shovel.

The building came into view. It was very old. It was made up of stone the color of pale skin, and its windows were murky black eyes. Some crumbling black steps led up to a yawning mouth.