Hollow Earth (17 page)

THIRTY-ONE

T
he trip to Glasgow was just what they all needed. When the train from Largs pulled into Glasgow Central, Matt was singing along to his iPod. Even better, his singing wasn’t bothering Em and Zach in the slightest.

Simon had a number of stops to make, buying supplies for the children’s art camps that he and Sandie sometimes taught at the Abbey. Matt, Em and Zach promised to be on their best behaviour, swearing to wander the shops and nothing more. Simon relented, agreeing they could meet up in a couple of hours.

Everyone was as good as their word. As a treat, Simon took them to his favourite restaurant in the city centre for a dinner of fish and chips, before catching the train back.

‘Did you know our dad really well then?’ asked Em, sipping a milkshake while they waited for their orders.

Simon nodded. ‘Mara, your mum, a couple of others and I began our studies under your grandfather at the Abbey when we were a bit older than each of you. I came to develop my powers as a Guardian, and your mum had come to learn about her abilities as an Animare. Your dad, of course, was already there. We went to university and then returned to the Abbey afterwards.’

‘Are there other places in the country where Animare and Guardians can learn?’ asked Em.

‘Of course, Em. And not just here, in other parts of the world, too.’

For the rest of their meal, Simon managed to find enough entertaining stories about the old days at the Abbey to keep them all in good spirits.

‘So did you and Mara ever double-date with my mum and dad?’ asked Em.

Simon laughed, while the boys grunted their shared displeasure at this turn in the conversation. ‘Not really. Although, if I remember right, Mara and your dad were close. They went out a few times before he started seeing your mum. In fact—’

Simon suddenly clutched his hand to his throat, gasping for air. Then he slumped forward on to the table.

‘He’s choking on his food,’ screamed Em.

Zach looked confused, signing madly that his dad had finished eating way before they had. Something else was wrong.

A man from one of the other tables came rushing across the room, pulling Simon upright to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre.

Simon recovered enough to push him away. ‘Not choking. I’m okay.’

‘Are you sure? You don’t look too good, mate.’

‘Need some fresh air.’

With considerable effort, Simon stood and signed to Zach to pay the bill from his wallet. Putting his arms around Matt and Em, he let himself be guided outside.

‘Flag down a taxi, Em,’ he gasped, his entire body twitching. ‘Something’s wrong at the Abbey. I can feel it.’

In the taxi, Simon drifted in and out of consciousness. Em tried to phone home, but she kept getting Jeannie on the voice mail. When she called her mum, there was no answer either, and Renard’s phone kept going to the answering machine in his study. If Mara was in her studio, she wouldn’t have her phone with her – she hated the distraction.

‘I thought your dad had fixed the network, Zach!’

‘He had!’

Simon was barely lucid, and appeared to be in terrible pain.

‘How are we going to get Dad on the train without calling attention to ourselves?’ Zach’s hands were a blur. ‘We can’t have someone phoning the police or an ambulance.’

We need to do something, Em.

Zach did his best to make his dad comfortable, humming softly to him and stroking his head, while Matt and Em tried to think of all the ways they might ‘do something’ without violating any of the Animare rules they’d agreed to last night.

This is a special circumstance.

I agree.

Em pulled her sketchpad from her bag, flipping to a clean page.

Wait until we get closer to the station.

‘Are you kids sure you don’t want me to take you to A&E?’ said the taxi driver, when they turned into the station entrance. ‘It’s not far.’

‘He’ll be fine once his medicine takes effect,’ lied Matt. ‘Really. Thanks, though.’

Ready?

Em nodded, concentrating while Matt sketched quickly. Using a silver marker from the set in her bag, she shaded the edges of the drawing when he’d finished.

‘Stop over there,’ said Matt to the driver.

Zach paid for the taxi using money from his dad’s wallet, while Matt and Em hauled Simon into the wheelchair that had appeared at the kerb. The twins jogged alongside the wheelchair as Zach pushed it, doing their best to keep focused, the drawing clutched in Matt’s hand. They darted through the crowded station to the platform, making the 7.05 p.m. to Largs with only moments to spare.

When they had Simon settled, Matt wheeled the chair to the end of the carriage, checked no one was watching, and tore up the drawing. The chair evaporated in a puff, leaving an imprint, like a burn mark, on the floor where it had stood.

As the train passed through the many stations on the way to Largs, Simon revived enough to accept a bottle of water. Soon, he was sitting up and coherent, although momentarily confused to note that they were already on the train. When they arrived in Largs, he was himself again. Without asking how they had managed to get him on to the train, Simon hugged each one of them.

‘You told us that something bad was happening at the Abbey,’ said Em, her panic building the closer they got to home.

‘It was. So let’s not dawdle.’

The four of them sprinted from the train station across the crowded main street to the ferry, the Range Rover in the car park on the other side.

Simon tried not to think about what he knew to be true.

Something bad had
already
happened.

THIRTY-TWO

T
endrils of fog unfurled over the island like long fingers, poking into its coves and crannies, its slopes and crags. When the ferry docked, steaming mussels and roasting chestnuts for a beach party tinged the sea air, slowing traffic in both directions as everyone gawked at the huge, smoking, oil-drum barbecues dotted across the sand.

By the time Simon had driven the Range Rover through the gates of the Abbey, darkness had dispelled the fog and everyone inside the vehicle had a headache. Simon tried to play down his growing anxiety, but Em and Zach both felt a dull throbbing in their minds as soon as they turned into the grounds.

Simon turned off the headlights and cruised slowly along the lane towards the towers in pitch blackness. When the Abbey loomed in front of them, it, too, was in darkness. Simon pulled off the road and into the edge of the forest, branches scraping against the car as if they were scratching to get inside.

‘I’m scared, Matt,’ said Em.

So am I.

‘Squeeze down between the seats,’ said Simon. ‘Stay inside until I let you know it’s safe.’

Simon had only taken two steps when he heard the car doors ease open, the children’s footsteps shuffling behind him. He ducked into the forest, letting Matt, Em and Zach follow. He was far too worried to fight with them.

As the four of them walked into the darkness, it took shape in front of them. A shadow rose above the tree line, a hulking, black, ape-like beast with torn slits for eyes and a gaping fleshy mouth. Matt gasped. Em screamed. Zach grabbed Em’s arm, pulling her away.

Someone inside the house is animating the forest
, thought Simon in horror, pushing the children into a copse of trees.

The beast charged at them. They were helpless, easy prey.

But then the beast exploded into bright yellows, reds and blues in the darkness above their heads, harming no one.
We should have been killed
, thought Simon in astonishment. When an Animare brought a drawing to life, it was no illusion.

But before Simon could process what had happened, a strix swooped along the treetops, its demonic owl eyes glowing red. Diving at the tree directly above their heads, the bird split apart, shooting spears of blackness that morphed into flying monkeys scampering up the nearby trees.

Simon grabbed Em in realization. ‘You and Matt are doing this. These creatures are your fears! You’re creating them with your imaginations.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m scared. I can’t help it,’ Em sobbed.

‘Yes, you can.’ Zach took Em’s hand, looked into her eyes and smiled. He turned to Matt. ‘You can control them, too.’

‘I’ll try.’

‘Do your best, both of you,’ added Simon grimly. ‘Otherwise we’ll be slowed down even more.’

They reached the Abbey’s front door. The twins’ fears were muted but still palpable in the carved relief of the monastery crest – the peryton was bursting from the wood.

A trail of colour flashed across the courtyard behind them. Matt turned in time to see Em’s dwarfish night creature dart under the stone arch and into the garden. But then Simon pushed open the Abbey doors, and the awful scene in the hallway drove the creature from his mind.

It looked as if a hurricane had struck. Paintings lay slashed on the ground; side-tables were overturned; vases were smashed. A trail of torn pages and ripped books lined the floor from the library to the bottom of the stairs, where Renard’s broken body lay. Jeannie was cradling his head in her lap, weeping. Mara was kneeling next to them, bleeding from a gash on her forehead.

Em felt as if she was back in the vault again, only this time, her heart, not her head, was about to burst. She threw herself on to her grandfather.

‘Mara, draw something. Make Grandpa wake up, please!’

‘It doesn’t work that way, Em. We can’t animate people.’ Mara pulled Em into an embrace. ‘We’ve called for an ambulance. It’ll be here soon.’

‘What happened?’ Simon demanded.

‘It was right after dinner,’ said Jeannie, red-eyed. ‘Mr R. felt the anger in the Abbey getting heavier. He sent me to fetch Mara. I found her, poor thing, out cold on the floor of her studio.’

‘Someone attacked me,’ said Mara. ‘I didn’t see who. I’m so sorry. I could have done something if I’d been with him. I could have drawn …’ She stifled a sob.

Simon used the bottom of his shirt to wipe the blood gently from Mara’s eye. ‘This is not your fault.’ He scanned the room. ‘Where’s Sandie?’

‘We couldn’t find her,’ said Mara, choking back more tears. ‘She’s gone!’

THIRTY-THREE

W
ithin ten minutes, the grounds of the Abbey were packed with emergency vehicles. An RAF helicopter had landed on the back lawn, airlifting Renard to hospital. Jeannie had gone with him. And now a paramedic was helping Mara into an ambulance.

Wrapped in blankets, the twins and Zach sat in the front courtyard on a bench. Behind them, the woods were full of shifting shadows. Every few seconds, something would fly out from the darkness – a screaming banshee, a rotting corpse, a shrouded phantom – dissolving to nothingness as it flew into the bright lights of the courtyard. The hellhound gargoyles twitched on the Abbey’s turrets, trying to wrench free of their stone moorings.

Simon came outside, observing the chaos that the twins’ fears were creating. It would only be a matter of minutes before a policeman or an emergency worker noticed, too. Sitting next to Matt, he put his arm around his shoulders. Zach had taken Em’s hand. The darkness behind them gradually quietened, the shadows slowly faded.

The Chief Constable for Ayrshire and Western Scotland was a tall, elegant, middle-aged woman named Clarissa Bond. She’d arrived at the Abbey within thirty minutes of her deputy informing her who was involved in the attack. Renard was well-known in Scotland for his philanthropy, so any attack on his property, never mind his person, was immediately considered a high-profile crime. Chief Constable Bond was also one of a handful of people in public positions of power and influence who knew of the Animare and the Guardians.

She walked over to the bench, crouching in front of Matt and Em. ‘I’m sorry about what has happened to your grandfather, but he’s a very strong man, and I’m sure he’ll pull through.’

‘What about our mum?’ asked Matt, shifting out from under Simon’s embrace. ‘She’s not here.’

‘She wouldn’t go anywhere without us,’ cried Em.

‘Whoever did this to our grandfather must have taken her!’

‘It’s likely, I’m afraid,’ said the Chief Constable. ‘In case she’s hurt and still on the island, we’re doing a thorough search. Try not to worry.’ She patted Em’s leg sympathetically. ‘I’ve notified the authorities on the mainland. We have alerts at all the airports and at every train station up and down the coast. I’ve sent two men to check the ferry to see if anyone remembers seeing anything out of the ordinary this evening. Unfortunately, tonight’s beach party means the entire island is swarming with strangers.’