13 Secrets (35 page)

More scuffles sounded, and Rowan shifted to get a view through the rapidly narrowing gap. Already the space beyond it was darkening.

“It wasn’t me!” Sparrow twisted, in obvious pain, his eyes wide. “Tell them, Red! You know me!
You know I wouldn’t do this!
”

“I’m sorry, Sparrow,” Tino said through gritted teeth. He maneuvered Sparrow away from him, then sent him flying with one huge shove.

“No, the stairs!” Rowan cried, her hands flying to her mouth. Sickening sounds of bumps and scuffs reached her as Sparrow rolled down the hard stone staircase, then Tino squeezed through the closing gap.

“That was the idea,” said Tino, unable to look at her. “It was the only thing I could think of.”

“But he could be hurt….” She ran to the gap and pressed her face against it. Groans came from somewhere below, then stopped as the doorway sealed itself.

“What are the chances of him finding the ball of string?” Tino asked.

“Without any light, slim to none.” She continued to stare at the bookcase. “Tino, we can’t do this.”

“We just did.”

“But I don’t think it was him—I don’t believe it.”

“You don’t want to believe it,” Tino said softly. “And neither do I. But look at the evidence. We can’t ignore it. Until we find something to say it wasn’t Sparrow, that’s the best place for him. If someone else did set him up, they’ll give themselves away eventually—we need to keep our eyes open.”

He moved toward the door. “For now, this stays between us. If someone is framing Sparrow, they’ll know we’re on the lookout if we tell them what’s just happened.”

“Wait.” Rowan closed her eyes. “At least let me listen for a minute. As soon as I can hear him moving, I’ll come out.”

“We don’t have time.” Warwick’s voice was gentle, but firm. “We’ve got work to do—we don’t even know that he’ll try to come back up the stairs straight away. He could go off into the tunnels….”

“He could get lost,” she whispered, allowing Warwick to herd her out of the room. Tino was already in the hallway and had been joined by Crooks. Evidently, he had overheard most of what had happened, and Tino did not look pleased.

“Not a word to anyone about this,” he hissed to him. “Get back to whatever you were doing.”

Crooks slunk off as Warwick locked the library door. “No one is to go into this room, understand?”

She nodded blankly.

“We’ll need a new safe room,” Tino muttered as he and Warwick went off in the direction of the kitchen. “For now, let’s say the exit in the library has jammed.”

“There’s one upstairs,” Warwick answered. “An old servants’ room with a false fireplace. Door doesn’t lock, but Crooks could fix that….”

Rowan stared at the library door. In a daze she went upstairs to her room, closing the door quietly, and then she went and sat on the bed. For a full minute she stared at the wall, seeing only Sparrow’s eyes, wide and disbelieving.

“What have I done?” she whispered to herself. The tears came then, hot and plentiful, soaking her face in a flood. It was only as one ran all the way down her wrist that she suddenly became aware that her fingers were pressed against her cheek, touching the exact spot where Sparrow had kissed her yesterday. She did not even remember lifting her hand.

I might not get a second chance,
Sparrow had said. Now it seemed he had been right.

She dropped her hand, wiping her face with her cuff, and got up to check herself in the mirror.

“Why are you crying?”

Rowan gasped and spun to face the door.

Fabian stared back in concern. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. “I’m not crying. I’ve got dust in my eye. And will you please learn to knock?”

“Sorry.” Without waiting for an invitation, Fabian shuffled across the room and sat down on the bed.

“What are you doing? I never told you to come in.”

“Sorry,” said Fabian again.

Rowan turned away from the mirror. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “Your voice sounds strange.”

“I found something in one of the rooms,” said Fabian. He was staring into his lap. One of his hands was in a fist.

“Spit it out, then.”

He flinched at her tone and got up. “Never mind.”

“Fabian, wait. I’m sorry for snapping.” She gestured to the bed and sat down on the stool, sniffing. “What did you find?”

Fabian’s lips were pinched together. Slowly, he unfurled his hand and pushed it toward her.

“There’s nothing in it.”

“Look closer.”

Rowan wiped at her eyes again. Then she saw it. A very long, very red hair, the exact same color as her own.

“It’s Rose’s,” she said, frowning. “Why are you showing me this?”

“I found it in my dad’s room.” His voice was tight. “I was in there looking for red stuff, and I saw that his pillowcase was red. That’s where I found this.” He looked up at her, his blue eyes huge behind his glasses.

“My dad, and your mum…”

“No,” she said. “They can’t be… they
wouldn’t
.”

“Wouldn’t they?” Fabian gave a hollow laugh. “Why not? They seem to have been getting along just fine. He gives her a ride home every night, and she’s been staying later and later.”

“But that’s because of the animals,” said Rowan. “And because of me. That’s why she’s always here. One hair doesn’t mean anything, Fabian. You’re jumping to conclusions. It was probably just caught up on his clothes.”

“It wasn’t the only one.” Fabian wound the hair around his fingers, tighter and tighter until it snapped. “There were more. Do you still think they were just caught on his clothes?”

She swallowed, trying to process the thought, but unable to. Her head was already swimming with confusion.

“I don’t know… I can’t think about this now, Fabian. I’m sorry….”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Don’t you want to at least ask them?”

“No… yes….” She sighed. “I’m not sure.”

“Thanks for the support.” He got up in disgust.

“Look, I’m not saying we shouldn’t ask, but just not
yet
. This can wait—there’s too much going on. If you leave it until this is over, then we’ll confront them together.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.” She got up and went toward him. “I prom
ise. But I still think there’ll be an explanation. There’s no way they’d be able to keep something like that a secret.”

Fabian let the broken hair drop to the floor. “Fine. I’ll keep quiet, for now. But do you want to know what I think? I think everyone in this house is full of secrets, and they don’t give them up easily.” He went to the door and flung it open. “Including you. I’ll leave you to get that
dust
out of your eye.”

“Fabian—”

A heavy thud sounded from above, startling them both.

“What was that noise?” Fabian asked, his rant momentarily forgotten.

“It came from over by the window,” said Rowan. She moved away from the dressing table and closer to the bed. “I thought I heard something earlier, on the roof… I thought it was mice. Maybe it’s a bird.”

“It’d have to be the size of an emu to make a thunk that loud.”

Scratches and scrabbling came from above. A piece of slate slipped past the window a second later. Fabian ran to the bed and jumped on it, his nose pressed against the glass. They both heard the slate smash on the path at the side of the house.

“Whoa,” Fabian breathed, his breath misting the glass. He twisted his head, trying to get a glimpse of whatever was on the roof. Another tile slid past and shattered below. He reached for the catch on the window.

“Don’t open it,” she said sharply.

“I just want to see what’s up there,” he protested, his fingers working the catch.

“I said leave it!”

They both froze as a long tail dropped into view in front of the window. It was thin at the tip, growing wider as it went up, and it was the color and texture of an elephant’s hide. It flicked from side to side in the manner of an agitated cat, then disappeared above again.

Fabian found his limbs and scrambled back off the bed.

“What the hell was that?”

They got their answer an instant later when it dropped into view, landing on the windowsill. Its thick claws scrabbled for a hold, and two leathery wings flapped to give it balance on the narrow ledge. It was about the size of a four- or five-year-old child, but there the similarity ended. The domed head was bald, and the lips drew back in an ugly snarl as it gazed into the room. A metal ring was clamped around its neck, with one broken link dangling from it.

Rowan recognized it immediately. “It was a spy,” she whispered. “For the Hedgewitch… Someone’s freed it.” She shoved Fabian toward the door, never taking her eyes off the window. “Move, now!” she whispered urgently.

The creature hissed, its yellow eyes fixed on her,
but made no attempt to get in. They staggered out into the hallway, slamming the bedroom door.

Rowan ran for the stairs, Fabian at her heels.

“Where are we going?”

“To tell Warwick. If that thing’s here, then I’m guessing Eldritch isn’t far behind it.”

Tanya was salting the windowsills in the dining room when chaos broke out. Feet thundered down the hallway, and she saw Fabian and Rowan racing for the kitchen, shouting Warwick’s name. She left the sack of salt and hurried around the table.

Going through the hallway, she was aware of people upstairs. Voices, including those of her grandmother and Rose, drifted down to her, and in a closed room nearby she thought she heard Morag and Suki. However, it seemed that everyone else on the ground floor had either witnessed or heard Fabian and Rowan’s panic and was gathering to find out the cause of it.

The kitchen was a swarming hive. Merchant and Crooks leaned over the sink to look through the window into the garden. To the side of them, Rowan and Fabian were in the doorway. Outside, Warwick,
Victor, and Tino were beneath the horse chestnut tree, looking to the skies and shielding their eyes from the sunlight. At the rear of the garden stood Samson, also looking up.

Tanya wedged herself between Rowan and Fabian. “What’s going on?”

Fabian turned, pasty-faced. “There’s something on the roof.”

“Where did it go?” she heard Warwick say.

“There.” Tino pointed, his eyes both golden in the sun. “Behind those chimneys.”

“See if we can get it closer,” Victor said in a low voice. His hand gripped one of his daggers, and there were several more lined up in his belt. “Just a few more meters and I could take it out, no problem.”

“Not yet,” said Tino. “No kills, remember? Not unless we have to. It hasn’t attacked.”

“Yet,” said Victor.

“It’s moving again,” said Warwick. “Over by that window—it’s looking in.”

Tiles fell and smashed at the side of the house.

Victor’s hand tightened around his dagger. “Not exactly subtle, is it?”

“I don’t think it means to be,” said Warwick. “It’s not attacking, but it’s watching us all right. It
wants
us to know it’s there.”

Samson’s head turned suddenly. “Look!”

Warwick and Tino stepped back to view where he was pointing. Victor stayed where he was, his knife at the ready.

Warwick’s eyes fixed on something. He swore. “Another one. Up there. See it?”

Tino lowered his hand. “I see it.” He looked to Samson, making a small signal. “Let’s try something—a little experiment.”

Warwick looked around in alarm. All eyes were on Samson as he lifted the latch to the gate and took a few steps out of the garden.

No sooner had the gate swung closed than a terrible, hissing screech sounded from above. Tanya saw the creature’s shadow gliding across her grandmother’s garden toward Samson. Its cries pierced her ears and filled her with dread. Then it came into view, a gray, ugly thing, not dissimilar from the gargoyles on the front gates. It swooped toward Samson, talons scraping and grabbing, narrowly missing his face as he ducked out of the way and vaulted the gate back into the garden.

The creature turned in the air, its snakelike tail curving in a wide arc as it twisted and changed direction.