The Grotesques (36 page)

“I cannot help but recall you give sound advice,” the king said when he had swallowed the fruit. “Sit, sit. Ratold brings news of Rouen.”

The plump baron folded his arms inside his wide sleeves as he watched Romain take the seat opposite, grudgingly vacated by men high in the king’s esteem. Romain remained stiff, aware his simple brown robe proclaimed the gulf in their standing for all the court to see.

“This is the man who, among other things, suggested Bishop Arnulf accompany my son Dagobert to Austrasia. As you can see, he has wisdom. Have we not enjoyed some years of stability?” There was no mockery in Clotaire’s words, though Romain ever listened for it. “I cannot explain why I chose to indulge a pair of high spirited boys with no prospects those many years ago, but it is my good fortune that I did.” It was a joke Clotaire was fond of making. The king had seemed intrigued by the pious lad with the overlarge cross around his neck who refused to be complicit in his friend’s wild tales of noble heritage.

“Why don’t you come with me?” Lois had said those many years ago after Romain had rescued the dazed lad from the woods. His stammers about a demon slaying his guardsman had turned into the invitation over a meal of boiled chicken. Cheeks ruddy with eagerness, he had stilled his knife and leaned toward Romain. “Have you not heard? King Clotaire has just defeated King Thierry and old Queen Brunehaut. He’s now King of all France and has granted indemnity to the barons. I’m going to enter his service.” He had taken a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “With three older brothers, I need to make my own way in the world.”

Romain had looked around the empty hut. Without Brother Pierre it was not a home. He tended the garden, swept the church, and carved with a despondency he could not shake.
Why not?
he had thought. And so they had journeyed to Soissons where the king’s fascination had periodically broken Romain’s contentment with monastic life. He might have been happy but for the dogging sense of emptiness, a void not even the words in the books Clotaire had been forced to pass to the clergy could fill.

The baron’s cough brought him back to the present.

“Rouen,” Romain echoed. The name brought a sense of impending doom. He made the sign of the cross.

The king selected a plum, leaned back, and lifted a foot to the edge of the table, a curious arch to his brow. “Tell your tale,” he said to the Baron, his eyes plastered to Romain. Red juice trickled down his chin as he bit the fruit.

The baron cleared his throat. “My wife’s family brings dire tidings,” he began, and delivered the news Romain had been dreading. “What else could they do but flee? They have arrived requesting safe lodging, but Heaven knows I cannot afford to support the lot of them. The townsfolk tell the only way to placate the dragon is with human sacrifice. The town is decimated,” he concluded.

“This creature cannot be the creation of God,” Clotaire said.

The baron shook his head. “They say it is flesh and bone, spawn of the devil, and nothing man may defeat.”

“I fear it is the creation of man.”

The king gave Romain a curious look. Whispers and gasps travelled the length of the hall. Young men were no doubt imagining themselves as revered heroes, besting a beast an entire town could not conquer. Had it not started that way for Genord?

“Your advice then, Romain. I will not have such a devil control my kingdom. You have read books. How can we triumph over it?”

“Perhaps we can,” he said quietly, and young and old murmured over his interpretation of the king’s question.

ELLA WOKE FEELING
every imperfection in the hard wood beneath her body. For a dazed moment she thought she was sitting on a wooden bench in a Dark Age court. Then she saw Romain, twisted and hunched, standing over her as she lay on the cluttered table in his workshop. When she managed a croak, Adam stretched up to peer at her face before asserting his authority over the entrance. Charred remnants of planks were all that remained of the door.

It hurt just to breathe. For once Ella felt she could tolerate a visit to the doctor, though her discomfort eased after Romain pulled a hammer from under her back and a chisel from beneath her shoulders. He selected another instrument from the side workbench, clenching it so low that Ella was unable to see it until he moved next to her and raised his hand.

The brand new carving knife gleamed in the candlelight.

“Please no,” she said, unable to tear her eyes from the sharp edge of the blade.

Her plea set Adam lunging at Romain. He grappled for the knife, snapping and snarling. The mason held his ground, ignoring the gash Adam’s long nails carved in his arm.

“Help. Romain help,” the mason said. His blood dripped to the floor.

Laughter flickered the candle flames. Genord appeared at the door, the blue ghost of the dragon head behind him.

Adam sprung with a mid-air twist, stretching his wings to block the entrance.

“No!” she cried again, only this time her fear was for him.

Bright light flashed. The grotesque screeched. When the light dissipated, a stone statue obstructed the doorway. From behind it, Genord’s icy voice rang out.

“Come to me, Ella. Come to me, or I will smash this grotesque to pieces.”

A tear trickled onto a cut at the corner of her lip. The salt stung. A year of bitterness at her public humiliation, at breaking up with Rob, had left her convinced life was worthless. Adam had shown her very simply it was not. Now, she was about to lose everything again.

“Adam,” she called.

“Adam safe,” Romain said, holding her down. He settled his wooden cross on her chest.

Another burst of light exploded from the outer chamber. Fragments of rock showered into the room.

“Adam!”

“Romain fix Adam. You still.”

Ella swallowed. Even that hurt. “Help us,” she said closing her eyes. “Don’t,” she said, “don’t turn me again . . .” She flinched as Romain sliced her finger open but the throb quickly faded into the symphony of aches.

“Blood,” Romain grunted. “Good. Life.”

“I will sacrifice you, Ella Jerome. One way or another, you will feed my revenge.”

She shuddered.

From the chamber came a roar, the sound of blasts, growls.

“Safe. Ella safe. Adam safe. Safe. Safe.”

Ella’s head lolled to the mason’s murmurs. She snapped awake when a gravelly paste, icy cold, slapped against her forehead. Romain ladled the sludge over her face then started on her neck. Its chill seeped deep into her muscles, froze her to sleep. She dreamed the cross absorbed her hurts as it bathed her in light. Little by little, her muscles loosened, until she no longer felt she had been battered to within an inch of her life. She opened her eyes, propped herself up and swung her legs off the table. Romain handed her a tatty rag. She swiped the sludge off and dropped the dirty towel on the bench.

“Thank you.”

“You help ’tesques.” Romain, the top of the cross in one hand, peered mistrustfully at her.

Ella placed a trembling hand over her mouth as she noticed the fine particles of granite littering the floor. That was a part of
Adam
.

“Adam safe.” The mason’s breath tickled the fine hairs on her face.

“He’s not safe, Romain. You need to turn him back.”

“You stop shoot.”

Despairing, Ella shook her head. “Romain, I know you’re on our side. I know you saved me, and them, from Genord. But the grotesques are in real danger. Genord may be immune to gunshot but they aren’t.” The blood she had found, the screams that came from this room, the rent in Cecily’s wing proved how vulnerable the grotesques were.

A scream echoed around the chamber. By some trick of acoustics, Ella heard a growl and a splash. The mason’s eyes went wide. He shuffled to the statue and pressed his shoulder into its side. It grated across the floor, exposing the gap in the broken planks.

“Quick.”

Unsure where Genord lurked, Ella hesitated. Then a leonine head poked inside. Ella squeezed into the stairwell. Cecily held up a flaccid paw. The hair along her neck was singed, and she trembled from pain.

“You poor girl,” Ella said.

Cecily twitched her nose at Adam. When Ella turned, she began to weep. His stone chest had a huge chunk gouged out. Teeth bared and nose crinkled, his face was a fury that gave no sign of the agony he must have endured. Her tears fell onto his shoulder as she touched her fingers to her lips and laid them against his cheek.

“I didn’t mean for you to suffer.”

“Safe. Romain heal.” The mason took her arm and tugged her toward the window.

She tried to resist but he was too strong. “Please, Romain. Turn them back.”

The mason wrung his hands. “No ’tesques, Genord win. All die. All, all die.”

A scratching made her turn. Cecily lifted a claw from the floor. There in dust the word
soon
confronted Ella.

Footsteps tapped up the stairs from the crypt. Cecily bounded to Adam and growled.

“Be safe,” Ella whispered. “And look after Adam.”

“Quick or die.”

Genord’s laughter echoed through the chamber. Ella jumped for the window ledge. With a leg-up from Romain, she squirmed into fading day.

AS ELLA STEADIED
herself against the wall, her hopes plummeted. Events were spiralling out of control. The area surrounding the church was filling with police officers and military types, formidably armed with powerful looking weapons, extra ammunition and grenades slung from their belts.

She looked around for someone she knew. She was spotted at once by a surly sergeant. He intercepted her before she could reach Rob and the practical-looking woman he was talking to by the canal. Her protests did nothing to appease the officer, who began escorting her to the road. She called out. Rob chanced to hear her over a commander’s bark and signalled that she was to be admitted. The sergeant nodded, allowing her to jog to the detective.

Rob finished detailing what they had seen and where, then introduced Lyn Farringer as the zoo veterinarian. In the dwindling light, they dispensed with pleasantries.

“What happened to you?” Rob’s eyes narrowed as he took in Ella’s torn clothing and the scratches that covered her body.

“Genord tried to kill me.”

He drew her aside. “You came back to the church. Are you out of your mind? Or was your initial accusation a fabrication?”

Ella pursed her lips but bit her tongue. As angry and hurt as she was by that, she needed Rob’s support. “Doer was with me.”

His eyes narrowed further. “Can we collar Genord for assault? Will Doer back you up?” His tone was cautious.

“Genord wasn’t physically in the room at the time, and technically I was attacked by a swarm of bats. By the way, your colleagues took Doer into custody. Could you persuade them to release him? He wasn’t actually waving the gun at
them
.”

“That explains the handcuffs.”

“What do you mean?”

“We found him in an unattended patrol car. He said the officers went inside to look for you, but we can’t locate them.”

“Oh please, God, no,” Ella said, a hand flying to her mouth.

“They’re dead then.” Rob looked out to the canal. His eyes were dull.

“I think so.”

For a moment, Rob was silent. “What about this gun? Whose is it?”

Ella looked skyward. “I said the police should confiscate it in case it was the gun Genord threatened me with.”

“You said. Not you thought.”

“That should at least convince you my accusation about Genord was the truth.”

Rob willed himself to patience with a breath. “Okay, Ella. You don’t lie. But you don’t exactly tell the truth, either. As for coming down here, you may have a death wish, but I’m not going to be a party to it.” He beckoned a pair of police officers.

“Wait. There’s something I haven’t told you.”

He clenched his jaw, but his voice was resigned. “Isn’t there always?”

“Look, Rob.” His word again. He seemed to catch it because he waggled his head. “I know those grotesques are the missing girls. I know with greater certainty than DNA evidence and Romain’s drawings can provide. I know because I was one of them. I know because Romain turned Adam into one, and I know because I’ve just seen one of them turn from flesh into stone.”

She waited for an explosive denial. Rob swallowed, nodded almost imperceptibly, and fought down his first reaction. “So this is why your zoologist friend has dropped off the radar?”

Ella nodded. “You need to see this.” She pulled out the slashed sketch. “It came from Adam.”

“What do you mean it came from Adam?” The detective kept his hands by his side.

“From grotesque Adam. I was asking Romain to turn him back when he sent this message. And Cecily wrote much the same thing in the dirt. They’re asking for time. We have to give it to them.”