One Wish (31 page)

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Authors: Michelle Harrison

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #General

BOOK: One Wish
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‘You
dare
threaten me? You’ve no idea who you’re dealing with, girl! You’re not leaving this place until you hand that over. And if it breaks you won’t be leaving at all.’ He gave a nod to Morghul. ‘Get her. And remember the same goes for you, if you damage it.’

Morghul grunted and lunged towards Tanya.

‘Run!’ Ratty yelled.

Tanya turned and fled, flinging the cellar door wide. Behind her, she heard Oberon snap and snarl as he tried to block Morghul’s way. ‘Oberon!’ she shouted, terrified he’d come to harm. His claws scraped the stone steps beside her and together they scrambled up them. She heard Morghul’s heavy tread behind her, closer than expected, and fear spurred her on. The rucksack bounced against her back as she ran, and from somewhere inside she heard enraged squeaks as the Cornish brownie bounced with it. Finally, she reached the top of the stairs, with barely enough breath to speak.

‘Turpin, now!’ she gasped, hurtling past the pile of boxes. She caught a glimpse of two small hands giving a hard shove, and the mountain of boxes tumbled on to the staircase like falling dominoes. She heard rather than saw Morghul stumble backwards, losing his footing and crashing to the bottom. From the depths of the cellar, Solomon roared.

Tanya fled into the back room.

Heart thudding, she hurried over to the pile of discarded hourglasses on the floor by the table. She glanced at the real one in her hand, aware that she was about to take a terrible risk, but unable to think of another solution. Carefully, she placed it at the edge of the pile, scooping up smaller parts of some of the broken ones and placing them on top to hide it. Mixed in with the others, it was a good hiding place. With a final look to memorise the spot, she took another one of a similar size from the pile, then, checking the coast was clear, slipped out of the room.

Loud thuds sounded from the stairs as Morghul hurled the boxes out of the way. Tanya edged past into the storeroom, where, to her dismay, Don was very much still a toad.

‘What’s going on?’ Don hissed. ‘Did it work?’

‘Not exactly,’ said Tanya. ‘Morghul is here. Solomon sent him after me and he’ll be here any minute. With Solomon still in the cellar, I can’t send Turpin down!’

‘Morghul is
here
?’ Turpin skidded into the room, her hair standing on end.

‘Yes. And Ratty is locked up downstairs. Our only hope is for Solomon and Morghul to both come up here.’

Don blinked, his blue eyes huge in his warty face. ‘I don’t understand. What is Morghul doing here, with Solomon? I warned him what would happen if Solomon ever remembered what he was! Solomon would destroy him to get his spell to work.’

Tanya shook her head. ‘But Morghul wants the hourglass just as badly as Solomon does.’

‘Because the hourglass not only holds Solomon’s memory of that night, but Ratty’s memory of Morghul, too,’ said Turpin. ‘Without Ratty knowing what he is, Morghul has no power. Solomon can use glamour to change Morghul’s shape, but just for a short while. Only Ratty can give him a lasting form. Without him Morghul lives a half-life. He needs Ratty to remember . . .’ She trailed off as a tumult of noise sounded from the stairs. Boxes flew over the handrail, crashing every which way as the path from the cellar was cleared.

‘They’re coming,’ Tanya whispered. She pushed Turpin towards a crate in the corner. ‘Hide. I’ll lead them to the front of the shop and then you go down and get Ratty out of the cage.’

‘What about me?’ Don hissed.

‘Keep looking for that star,’ Tanya said desperately. ‘We’re going to need it.’ She darted out, shutting Oberon in the storeroom behind her, and slipped into the darkened front of the shop. A thought struck her and she approached the door. Perhaps she could fool Solomon into thinking she had left and lure him out of the building altogether. But as she touched the handle a white spark snapped off it, followed by the sound of a lock clicking into place.

‘I told you that you couldn’t leave, didn’t I?’ Solomon’s voice rang up the stairs, high-pitched and triumphant. ‘Every door and every window in this place is barred by magic. You’re going nowhere, girl.’

A trickle of cold sweat snaked down Tanya’s spine as she sought a hiding place. There were few options. With only seconds to spare, she dropped down and crawled under the counter, the sound of her own heartbeat thumping in her ears.

Overhead, the lights snapped on. Tanya squeezed her eyes shut, listening. Footsteps moved over the floorboards. Cupboard doors opened then banged shut. Display units were tossed aside, sending watches scattering over the floor. The footsteps came closer.

‘There aren’t many places to hide here.’ Solomon’s voice was taunting, sing-song, as he approached the counter. His shoes clipped into view, slowly and deliberately. Tanya considered running, but knew it was hopeless. There was nowhere to run, and nowhere else to hide.
Please
, she thought.
Please let Turpin get Ratty out.

A second pair of legs appeared in front of her. The movement was soundless; the movement of someone or something that was used to creeping in shadows, unseen and unheard. Without warning, a pale, waxy hand reached under the counter and seized her by the shoulder, pulling her out painfully. She yelled and struggled, but to no avail. The hand shook her into stillness like she was no more than a rag doll being shaken by a dog, and then she found herself looking up into the hideous, masked face of Morghul. Up close, the melted-wax look of his pale skin could be seen at the sides of the mask and, horrible as the mask was, Tanya was glad it was still on.

Solomon snatched the hourglass from her hands, but his jubilant expression quickly twisted into one of anger. ‘I don’t have time for this!’ he roared. His eyes were wide and crazed. He threw the hourglass across the room where it shattered against a wall. ‘Where is it?’

‘You just broke it,’ Tanya lied, stalling desperately. ‘It was disguised . . . with glamour.’

‘You can’t fool me,’ Solomon sneered. He wrenched the rucksack from her, rifling through it, then threw it aside. ‘I’d know that hourglass anywhere, disguised or not, and that wasn’t it. It’s still here somewhere. I can feel it. The memory is so close it’s practically singing to me!’ He grabbed Tanya roughly, shaking her out of Morghul’s grip.

‘The girl has hidden it somewhere. Find it! Search every room, check every hourglass.’

Tanya bit her lip.

‘Yes, Master.’ Behind the mask, Morghul’s voice was muffled, yet still Tanya could make out a strange quality to it. Like there was more than one voice mixed in, as fluid and changeable as his face. He bowed his head and lumbered out of sight.

Solomon smiled thinly. ‘Time for you to come downstairs. You can join the little friend you were so eager to see.’

Tanya struggled. Though Solomon was not as powerful as Morghul, he was still much too strong for her to escape. ‘What are you going to do with me?’ Her voice betrayed her fear.

‘That depends.’ Solomon scrutinised her. His eyes, now she saw them close up, were grey, and curiously cold and blank, rather like a dead sea creature. ‘On how difficult you plan on being. I have ways of dealing with difficult people. Ways of silencing them or making them disappear completely.’

Tanya stamped on his foot, hard. Even though she knew it wouldn’t do much good, she certainly wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

‘I’m already getting tired of you,’ Solomon growled, his eyes watering. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a tiny tin, from which he took a pinch of blue-grey dust between his finger and thumb.

‘Sleep tight,’ he whispered, then blew the dust straight into her face.

Tanya’s eyes and throat itched and stung as the dust took hold. She coughed, her eyes streaming, then the unpleasant sensations faded, leaving Solomon looking even angrier.

‘Protected, are we?’ he hissed. ‘Very well. We’ll just do things the hard way then.’ He dragged Tanya through the door at the back of the shop and forced her down the stairs into the cellar towards the cage where Ratty was imprisoned. With a click of his fingers, the cage door opened and Solomon threw her inside.

She landed on her knees with a painful bump and the cage door slammed behind her. Then a cold hand was on her arm, helping her to her feet. She looked up into Ratty’s worried face.

‘Heck,’ he said miserably. ‘So he got you, too.’

Tanya rubbed at her eyes, blinking away the gritty dust. ‘He blew something into my face. Some kind of powder,’ she said. ‘Whatever it was, it didn’t work – my socks are inside out.’ She turned and stared through the bars of the cage into the dimly-lit cellar.

Solomon was leaning over a book, running his finger down the page. Before him was a large, black cauldron. Thick smoke rose from within it and a strange, herby smell filled the air. From a wooden beam above hung a lacy white dress, swaying gently like a cobweb.

‘Where’s the hourglass?’ Ratty asked.

‘I hid it, just before Solomon caught me,’ Tanya whispered. ‘But it’s only a matter of time before that creature finds it and brings it to him.’

‘How did you find it?’ Ratty asked her. ‘And how did you find me?’

‘I didn’t find it. Don did. He’d hidden it, in the most amazing place—’

‘You’ve seen him? You’ve seen my pa?’

Tanya held a finger to her lips, afraid Solomon would hear. ‘Yes. He’s here, upstairs.’

Ratty’s eyebrows knotted together. ‘Then why doesn’t he come down? Why isn’t he helping us?’

‘Because he can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because Solomon turned him into a toad.’


What?

‘I don’t have time to explain, except that hopefully he won’t be a toad for much longer.’ She looked past Ratty into the dark corners of the cellar. ‘Where’s Turpin? I sent her down here to try and get you out after Solomon and Morghul followed me with the hourglass.’

‘She tried,’ said Ratty. ‘But it wasn’t as simple as picking the lock. It’s protected by magic. She couldn’t free us.’ He scanned the cellar. ‘She shot off somewhere when they came back down here; she must be hiding.’

Tanya leaned forward and gripped the bars. ‘She’s our only hope now, along with Don.’ She bowed her head, knowing how useless it seemed. ‘A fairy who can’t do magic and a toad. What chance do we have?’

Ratty gave a sad little smile. ‘There’s always a chance,’ he whispered. ‘I still can’t believe you found me. How is that even possible?’

‘I—’ Tanya began, but was cut off by a triumphant shout from upstairs.

Solomon’s head snapped up from the book as heavy footsteps thudded down the cellar steps. Then the door opened and Morghul stood silhouetted against the light. In his outstretched hand, he held the hourglass.

Solomon stared at it, licking his lips like a thirsty man about to receive water. ‘At last. After years of searching, I’m about to find the truth once more.’ He turned to the wraithlike dress, his voice tender now. ‘And finally I’ll be able to bring her back. Morghul,’ he said, his voice hoarse. ‘Bring it to me.’

‘That thing . . . Morghul,’ Ratty whispered. ‘I don’t know what it is, but it gives me the creeps. It’s like Solomon’s pet the way it follows him around, doing everything he says.’

Tanya watched, uneasy. Despite what she knew, there was something not right about Morghul’s being here with Solomon. What exactly was he planning?

Solomon edged round the simmering cauldron, reaching out towards Morghul. But Morghul continued to walk past him, approaching the cage.

‘What are you doing?’ Solomon demanded. ‘Give that to me!’

Morghul seemed not to hear. Instead, he loomed before the cage, reaching towards Ratty with the hourglass in his hand. Inside it, the sand had begun to flow. And finally Tanya understood what was about to happen.

‘Take it,’ Morghul urged. Behind the mask, Tanya could hear his breathing, fast with excitement.

Ratty stared at the hourglass, mesmerised. ‘I remember this. I saw it before, one night a long time ago . . .’

‘Take it,’ Morghul repeated, thrusting it through the bars as Solomon charged towards the cage.

‘Ratty, there’s something I have to tell you . . . about Morghul,’ Tanya whispered. ‘You mustn’t touch that.’

‘Pa said that Solomon must never have it,’ Ratty murmured, reaching for the hourglass.

‘No!’ Tanya shouted, trying to knock Morghul’s hand away. ‘It’s a trap!’

It was too late. Ratty’s fingers closed round the hourglass and Tanya was powerless to do anything except watch as the lost memory flooded back.

24

The Sacrifice

R
ATTY RELEASED THE HOURGLASS AND backed away, pressing himself against the bars of the cage and as far as he could get from Morghul’s terrifying, painted face.

‘You . . .’ His breath came in noisy gulps, and his already grey skin turned even paler. ‘I remember now. I remember everything!’

Morghul stood motionless at the edge of the cage, still holding the hourglass and watching Ratty with his blank, black eyes. Solomon arrived next to him, his face screwed up in temper.

‘What’s going on here?’ he demanded. ‘Give that to me!’ He grabbed Morghul’s arm.

Tanya lunged for the hourglass, determined that Solomon shouldn’t get it, but he was too quick. Morghul released it into his hand easily, and Solomon clutched it to himself. Horrified, Tanya moved to the back of the cage next to Ratty. He was trembling and wide-eyed, frozen to the spot and unable to look away from Morghul.

‘Ratty,’ she whispered desperately. ‘You can’t be afraid. You have to overcome your fear or he’ll only grow more powerful!’

If Ratty heard her, he gave no sign of it.

He still hadn’t moved and he was trembling even harder than she was. Solomon shuffled away, gazing at the hourglass. Slowly, he turned it in his hands and the sand began to trickle once more. He closed his eyes, his face twitching as the lost memory took hold.

‘Aren’t you going to do something?’ Tanya hissed at Morghul. ‘Don’t you care what will happen when he remembers what you are?’

Morghul didn’t answer. Instead, he reached up and slowly removed his mask. Tanya wanted to look away, but found she couldn’t; the sight was so terrible she was helpless not to stare. The melted, misshapen face looked like bubbling porridge. It rippled and pulsed, as though an unseen hand were modelling it from clay. But Tanya knew there was no hand. Only one thing could shape Morghul’s form and that was Ratty’s imagination.

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