Robin Jarvis-Jax 02 Freax And Rejex (50 page)

“Welcome home, good Mistress,” it said through the stitching of its mouth.

“Oh, tush, Cartimandua,” Malinda said. “I’ve only ventured a few steps beyond the garden gate. Anyone would think I’d been sailing the Silvering Sea in an eggshell for seven years, the way you carry on.” She turned to her guests. “Come you in and welcome.”

The door opened by itself and they entered.

Inside, the cottage was comfortable and snug. Samplers, carvings and testimonials, bearing good wishes and gratitude from former clients, ingénues and apprentices, hung on the walls. Shelves crowded with leather-bound books and parchments filled one alcove; a dresser piled with jars, bottles, pots and leather vessels filled another. Lanterns of coloured glass were suspended from the oak-beamed ceiling and rainbows, cast by the crystals in the windows, trembled on every surface. Two overstuffed wing-backed chairs were angled towards a fireplace in which silver flames crackled and sparkled.

Malinda guided them in and bid Maggie and Lee take the chairs, inviting Spencer to sit on a large velvet cushion between them. She hung
her wand and shawl on a wooden peg. Then a thought struck her.

“Oh!” she warned hastily. “Please be careful of Gilly; she may be hiding. It would be most unfortunate if you sat on her – she might break. That really would be a calamity.”

“Who’s Gilly?” Maggie asked.

“She’s a very clumsy bunny,” Malinda said loudly, addressing the corners of the room and any place this Gilly might be concealed. “Who ought to know better than skulk about and get herself into scrapes. She knows very well what the consequences would be if any mischance befell her. Always trying to climb on to things, or running too fast round corners. I normally keep her in a well-padded hutch, but this is her exercise hour and I wasn’t expecting company.”

Maggie and the others eased themselves down, eyes peeled for a fluffy rabbit.

Lee was agitated and fidgety. What were they doing sitting down? They should just take the wand and go back to camp. He still held on to the skull on the stick and considered threatening the old lady with it. But she was so gentle and endearing. She reminded him of his grandmother, before she had been turned by the book. He didn’t want to threaten her unless it was genuinely necessary. If the stories about her were true and she was warm-hearted and benevolent then perhaps she would lend them the wand willingly for a little while? He sucked his teeth and couldn’t believe he had actually thought that might be a possibility.

“I have an infusion made up already,” the old woman said, taking a pot from a trivet and pouring the contents into four earthenware goblets. “This should revive your spirits and go tingling down to your littlest toes.”

“Herbal tea!” Spencer declared, cupping it in his hands and inhaling the curling steam.

“Tea?” Malinda enquired, putting a pikelet on to a toasting fork and holding it close to the flames.

“It’s a drink we have at home. Doesn’t taste anything like this though. This is lush.”

Maggie added her enthusiastic appreciation. “I wouldn’t swap this for a chocolate milkshake. I can feel it going to my ears! It tastes like a sunny day. If we had this at home, it’d be a sell-out.”

“Ah,” the Fairy Godmother said, toasting another pikelet. “Now we come to it. I should like to hear about that place, for I know you are not of this Kingdom – nor indeed this world.”

“That don’t surprise you?” Lee asked.

“Bless you no, dear, not much does. I know that one of you is the Castle Creeper. I’m not sure which of you it is yet, but that can wait till after you’ve eaten and thawed yourselves. Now be careful you don’t get chilblains.”

Impaling a third pikelet on the tines, she set about buttering the first two, leaving the toasting fork hanging in mid-air all on its own.

“Blackberry preserve, my dears?” she asked. “I’ve some freshly made gingerbread – far better to put it on a plate than use it as roofing – and nigh on a whole seed cake, as well as bread and honey, if you wish?”

“I could definitely live here!” Maggie reiterated emphatically.

After the harrowing ordeal earlier in the camp, Lee and Spencer didn’t want to eat anything. A hot drink was the most they thought they could manage. But Maggie could not resist the sights and scents of the scrumptious spread placed before them and she needed to totally obliterate the taste memory of that vomitous nightmare. The boys watched her take the first few bites, and saw the melted butter running down her wrist. Then they had to obey the loud demands of their shrivelled stomachs and joined in.

“There now,” the Fairy Godmother said, beaming, as they made short work of it. They had forgotten what real food tasted like and this was more delicious than anything they could remember. She crooked a finger at a three-legged stool in the far corner. It gave a hop and came hobbling over for her to sit on. “That’s better; you looked as though you hadn’t eaten in days.”

Clasping her hands across her lap, she regarded each of them in turn
as if searching for something in their faces.

“It’s been a long time since the Night of All Dark,” she said. “I tried then to…”

A furtive scuffling interrupted her and she turned to see something shiny and blue dash across the rugs. “There you are!” she said. “Don’t be so rude when we have visitors. Come say ‘how do’. Where are our manners today?”

Presently a little face came peeping out from the shadows beneath a side table.

Maggie exclaimed in surprise and the face pulled back again. Malinda coaxed it some more and Gilly the rabbit crept forward.

It was not an ordinary animal. It was made entirely of clear blue glass. The fur and features were merely modelled into it and perfectly smooth, yet it moved like any real, living rabbit of flesh and blood. The ears flipped up to catch the astonished sounds these three strangers made and its feet waggled when Malinda scooped it up and put it on her knee.

“Gilly’s painfully shy with people she doesn’t know,” she said, stroking its ears flat and causing the cute little nose to wrinkle with pleasure. “To look at her now, you wouldn’t believe there are days when she won’t stop chattering about all sorts of subjects. Yikkety-yakkety, so opinionated it can be quite tiresome. But I mustn’t decry her; she’s simply overtired – she never sleeps, poor pet. Part of the bewitchment I suppose.”

“Bewitchment?” asked Maggie.

“Once this was a maiden, just as you, who had the ill luck to chance upon Haxxentrot in a meadow one morning and ate a forbidden sweetmeat. The witch transformed her into this form, and did more besides…”

“More?”

“Alas, yes. The glass is hollow and, although it appears empty within, it is not. There is a badness in there. Haxxentrot filled it with a virulent plague of her own brewing and cursed Gilly with a reckless disposition. That is why she must never break. If that were to happen, the plague would be set free and the denizens of Mooncaster would surely perish. A
padded hutch is the best comfort I can give her.”

She continued stroking and returned to what she was saying before.

“On Ween Night, I tried to tell you I wished to be of assistance. But you melted into the dark. I have hoped and waited for your return ever since.”

“Why would you help?” Lee asked.

“I am Malinda,” she answered, smiling. “Everyone knows I strive to give aid where it is needed. And there is another reason… for too long now this land has been afflicted by the presence of an unstoppable evil. It is a canker that none can withstand. It is a blight on our lives here.”

“The witch?” Maggie asked.

“Not her!” the Fairy Godmother said. “Haxxentrot spins her schemes and daunts the unwary and ensnares poor damsels like Gilly here, but she dare not contest against the Ismus directly. She did barely escape their battle through the sky on Ween Night with her skin intact. No, there is but one true terror that stalks this Realm and all fear him, yea even I – I more than most perhaps, for I have suffered cruelly at his barbarous hands.”

“The Bad Shepherd guy,” Lee murmured.

Malinda shivered and the stumps of her wings trembled. “The very mention of his name fills me with loathing and dread. He is hate in human form, driven only by the impulse to murder and destroy.”

“Can’t you cast a spell on him or something?” Maggie suggested. “Why doesn’t the Ismus hunt him down with his knights?”

Malinda smiled sorrowfully. “Would that we could,” she replied with regret. “But the Bad Shepherd is not of this Kingdom. He too hails from a different world and is amongst us, uninvited and unwanted. Our magick has no sway over him and we cannot destroy him. We can chase him to the borders, but we cannot rid ourselves of his malignant presence entirely. Always he comes slinking back to bring fresh torment, fresh grief.”

She gazed into the hearth and tears welled up in her pale blue eyes. “I fear very soon he shall do his worst wickedness yet and I am powerless to prevent it. Only one person can.”

“The Castle Creeper?” Spencer asked.

Malinda nodded. “It is written that only ‘the unnamed shape, the thing that creeps through the castle and the night’ can bring about a final end to the Bad Shepherd’s destructive dance. One of you three darling young people must rid us of this baneful scourge. I beseech whomsoever is the Castle Creeper to come to our aid and save us. Please, I implore you, as our darkest hour approaches.”

Lee glanced uneasily at the others. “What do you think one of us could do against him?” he asked.

The old woman paused before answering and bestowed her most benign, sugary smile upon them. Silence seemed to swell inside the cottage, broken only by the crackle of the silver flames in the hearth. A rainbow from the window crystals settled on her face. The shimmering patch of lurid colours made the rest of her appear dark, almost dirty.

“I want you to kill him,” she said sweetly.

Maggie and Spencer drew their breath and they looked at Lee. Malinda observed them. Her smile became a triumphant one as she guessed.

“So, at last,” she addressed him. “You are the one. I should have known.”

Lee didn’t bother to deny it.

“I ain’t killin’ nobody for you, lady. I got my sights set elsewhere. I’m only holding it together for that. It’s the last fight I’ve got in me an’ I ain’t wastin’ it.”

Malinda set Gilly on the floor and the glass rabbit went scooting off under the table again.

“I wish you would reconsider. Perhaps we could strike a bargain? Is there aught you would ask of me?”

Lee’s eyes flicked over to the wand, hanging on the peg. Malinda chuckled, but now it didn’t sound quite so friendly.

“That won’t be of any use to you in your world,” she told him. “It would just be a pretty stick.”

“Maybe I’ll find that out for myself.”

“You would be wasting your time – and the goodwill of Malinda should not be spurned or cast aside so lightly. I could make life so much more agreeable for you.”

“My life is so far deep down the toilet, there ain’t no way out and I don’t think I even wanna get out, cos it’s too damn painful an’ I can’t face it. But I’m gonna take some pieces of crud down with me in the final flush.”

“Hope always gleams when least expected.”

“Any hope I mighta had, got snuffed out – and the scuz responsible is gonna pay. That’s all I care about.”

“But what of your friends here? Surely they deserve consideration? I could help them too. Their hearts’ desires could be granted.”

“No thanks,” Spencer said. The atmosphere in the cottage had changed. What had seemed so snug and cosy now felt oppressive and sinister. Maggie agreed with him. The shadows deepened. In spite of the fire, a chill flowed over them. The soft wrinkles around Malinda’s face hardened into severe lines. Lee’s hands tightened round the unicorn stick.

“I have an ointment that could banish those repulsive blemishes and pustules that inflame your face,” she told Spencer. “And just one draught of a potion will dissolve this fat girl’s unsightly excess. Don’t deceive yourselves. How oft have you dreamed to cease being quite so grotesque as you are.”

Spencer and Maggie stared at her. The pretence of kindliness was over. It was as if a different person was speaking through her. A smell of damp crept about the room.

“We’re leavin’,” Lee said, rising from the chair, pointing the unicorn’s horn at the Fairy Godmother. “You want someone dead – you bloody your own hands. Ten minutes from now, mine are gonna be red enough.”

“You have no idea, do you?” Malinda snorted. “Still, after all this time, none whatsoever. But then you’re only a child. You don’t even realise what it is I’m asking you to do. You don’t understand who the Bad Shepherd is.”

“You got so many psychopaths in this damn place, I don’t care.”

He nodded to the others and they moved to join him.

“Oh, but you do care!” Malinda insisted. “And you do know him. All your life you’ve heard his words, all of you have – most especially your grandmother.”

“You don’t know nuthin’ ’bout my family!” Lee snapped. “Spence, get the wand – tea and cakes with Tinkerbell is over.”

“I know all there is about your families,” she said. “I made it my business to do so. Lee Jules Sherlon Charles, I know that your grandmother had a painting of the Bad Shepherd hanging in her precious front room. A painting she hid from view, the moment she became one of the blessed.”

Lee lowered the skull.

“Wait,” he murmured. “What exactly you sayin’?”

“What’s she on about?” Maggie mumbled.

Lee thought he knew, but he couldn’t dare bring himself to believe it.

“That painting on my grandmother’s wall was of Jesus,” he said cautiously. “Which she replaced with a nasty print of your White Castle. You’s talkin’ bull.”

“The Bad Shepherd has many names where you come from,” Malinda informed them. “Prophets in dusty sandals are so numerous there. They infect the place like a virus. Even in this Realm we were not immune: an aspect of him came seeping in. But, fortunately, his presence here is a malady that can be cured. I made sure of that; every eventuality was considered.”

“Damn – you’re one of the biggest loons of the whole bunch!” Lee declared. “You’re telling me that homicidal wack-job, the off-his-meds schizo what tried to chop me up with an axe that night, is really Jesus Christ? Oh – I heard it all now.”