Читать книгу Shadow Wrack - Kim Thompson - Страница 6

In which Willa has to deal with a feuding family, furious fairies, and a surly centaur

Never battle the forces of darkness a week before school starts. It’s very distracting. Willa learned this lesson the hard way. One Wednesday she barely escaped a giant evil worm, aided by a dragon and a dinosaur, when an exploding phoenix set the whole place on fire. Five days later, the biggest challenge in her life was remembering her locker combination.

The summer had turned her whole world upside down. Her regular twelve-year-old life seemed unreal, and the mermaid, centaur, and fairies that she now called her friends seemed totally normal. The upside was that after facing the big worm, gym class just didn’t fill her with dread like it used to. The downside? She couldn’t talk to anybody about her recent adventures. Her mom and dad knew parts of it, but they didn’t want to hear any more. She certainly couldn’t tell her friends at school, she had promised Miss Trang she wouldn’t, and they wouldn’t have believed any of it anyway.

The strangest thing about her summer was how she felt now that it was over. You’d think that having survived something like that, plus finding your long-lost grandmother, would make you happy and relieved and just plain grateful to be alive. But Willa didn’t feel any of those things. She felt like she had more problems than ever before. She was anxious, jumpy, depressed, and even … truth be told … a little angry.

A sudden sploosh startled Willa awake. She was sitting in the hallway leaning against the bathroom door. Inside she could hear water slopping out of the tub. Down the hall there was a squawk as the bird in the living room woke up. Every morning her dad tried to tiptoe out the front door to go to work, and every morning the bird woke up and squawked at him. In the kitchen a kettle whistled. That meant her mom was up. She would be out the door as quickly as possible, to avoid Belle.

Willa thumped her head against the bathroom door. “Belle! Will … you … hurry … up?” Silence within and then another sploosh and cheerful humming. Willa sighed. Her mermaid-grandma was in the bathtub, making her late for school. Again. Just another chapter in my ridiculous life, she reflected. Her family was scattered all over, like jigsaw puzzle pieces, only she couldn’t put them together to form the picture she wanted. And when she tried to talk to them about it, she got exactly nowhere.

“So.” Willa dangled her legs over the side of the dock, staring down at the water as the sound of waves washed over her. “Belle is my grandmother, isn’t she?” She glanced at Grandpa. He was loading supplies onto his fishing boat and paused, balancing a large cooler on the railing.

“Yes. Yes, she is.” He slid the cooler off the rail, and it thudded onto the deck.

“And she’s a mermaid.”

“Uh-huh.” He shoved the cooler into a corner.

Willa took a deep breath. “You married a mermaid.”

Grandpa gestured helplessly. “Well, she was human sometimes; she could switch back and forth. And I didn’t know what she was, at first.”

“And Mom was born. And then Belle…?”

“She left.”

“And put a curse on you so you couldn’t catch any fish.”

He squinted again and shrugged. “Well … I guess she was sore at me.”

“You didn’t catch a single fish in forty years!”

“There’s no point dwelling on the past. The curse is off now. My catches are setting records, and the good weather looks like it’ll hold for a while yet.” He grinned and rapped his knuckles on the wooden roof of the boat’s cabin. “Knock on wood. Everything’s grand.”

Willa sighed. Her grandpa never did hold a grudge, even when it was totally called for.

“Why did she do it?”

“Do what?”

“Why did she leave?”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

“You don’t know? But you must have some idea.”

At this, Grandpa just looked at her pityingly. “Willa, it was a long time ago. I don’t think about it any more. Nothing to be gained by it.”

“Why did you leave?”

Belle was watching TV; on the screen, jellyfish were undulating in a turquoise sea.

“Why did you leave?” Willa asked again, louder this time.

“What are you talking about? Leave where?” The old woman scowled at the TV.

“You left Grandpa after Mom was born. I was wondering why.”

“I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I’m four hundred years old! I can’t be expected to remember every little thing that happens,” she snapped.

Willa stared at her. “Every little thing? Seriously?”

Belle grew uncomfortable under her gaze, shifting in her wheelchair. “Maybe it was someone else. You ever think of that? Now shush and let me watch my show.”

The next conversation was even shorter.

“Mom, I want to know more about Grandpa and Belle.”

“Eat your breakfast.”

“But she’s your … mom.” That sounded weird.

“I don’t have a mom. Eat. You’re going to be late for school.” End of discussion.

“Dad, you know about Belle, right?”

“You mean, that she’s … hmm. Yes.”

“So Mom is part … you know.”

“I guess so.”

“Dad,” Willa looked him straight in the eye, “is Mom at all … different? Weird?”

Her dad smiled, scratching his head. “You know what, Willa? Everyone is weird. Mermaid parentage or not. That is the honest-to-god truth.”

And that was as far as she got with them. Not only would they not talk about it, the four so-called grownups in her family wouldn’t even sit in the same room together. They were like billiard balls ricocheting off each other.

I have the worst family in the world, Willa fumed. So who needs them?

Ever since the shambolic old place known as Eldritch Manor had burned to the ground, its inhabitants had been scattered all over town. In a moment of weakness, Willa’s mom had agreed to let Belle and Baz move in with them temporarily, even though Mom and Belle were not speaking.

Horace and Tengu were in a hotel downtown, and Willa had her fingers crossed that they were behaving themselves. Robert the centaur, being half-horse and rather hard to disguise, was living in the stable behind the charred remains of the house, complaining bitterly about being treated like an animal. Mab the fairy queen was living with the tree nymphs in the wild jungle of a yard. The nymphs were basically fairies too, inhabiting a different branch of the family tree, and even though they’d been feuding with Mab for at least a hundred years, they’d suddenly become allies. This made Willa uneasy. Fairies may seem cutesy and sweet, but they can also be astonishingly vindictive and mean-spirited. Willa had no idea what trouble they’d get up to now that they were working together. Who knew what those tinkly little voices might be plotting? At least Mab had resumed knitting the time talisman scarf, which kept the whole supernatural bunch of them living in this time, in the real, right-now world. The tiny ball of yarn she was stitching into a doll-sized silvery scarf was what the dark forces had been after when they attacked in the summer. As Willa understood it, the yarn had some kind of magical properties that would have allowed them an access point to enter this world and this time. Or something like that. Willa was still not totally clear about the details.

A number of strange wee creatures had also disappeared into the yard and were presumably faring all right, though Willa seldom caught a glimpse of them. And as for Miss Trang, no one knew where she went at night, but every morning she appeared at the ruins, picking through the ashes to retrieve anything she could find — a blackened teaspoon, a doorknob, broken bits of crockery. Every once in a while she’d disappear for three or four days and reappear with a new furrow in her brow. Something about high-level meetings and everyone being very upset with them, she had confided to Willa just the other day. Willa was shocked.

“Why would they be upset? Didn’t we keep the talisman safe? Didn’t we beat the dark side?”

“Yes, as far as that goes. But the loss of the house was vexing,” sniffed Miss Trang as she turned and paced slowly away, her eyes on the ground. Willa sighed. She hadn’t exactly expected a medal from the powers-that-be who oversaw mythological retirees, but she thought that defeating the terrifying black worm was worth something other than reproach.

As Willa gazed at the ground that day, she noticed something odd. Poking up from the ash and blackened debris was a shiny white shape. A stone? Willa knelt down and ran her hand over it. It seemed to be made of wood and was rooted firmly in the ground. Looking around, she realized that there were a dozen others, just the same, all in a straight line.

“Miss Trang? What are these?” Miss Trang looked over.

“It’s the house coming up,” she said simply.

“The house? Coming up? Like a plant?”

“Yes, naturally. The house is rebuilding itself.”

Willa stared down at the white nubs, like a row of teeth.

“How long does it take?”

Miss Trang shrugged and gazed up at the sky. “Depends how much rain we get.”

Willa blinked. This was too much. She glanced at the house next door and saw a curtain drop in the dining room window. Their neighbours, Mr. and Mrs. Hacker, were always on the watch for unusual behaviour to complain about.

“But Miss Trang, shouldn’t we hide it?” Miss Trang looked blankly at her for a moment, but Willa persisted, pointing at the Hackers’ house. “People will see. A house growing out of the ground isn’t exactly normal.”

Miss Trang seemed to snap back to the present. She nodded and looked around. “Yes, of course. We must provide some kind of cover.”

“A big fence so people can’t see in,” suggested Willa. “But if the house is going up, everyone’s going to expect there to be workers and equipment.”

Miss Trang nodded again. “I will see about bringing in builders. They can hurry things along here and provide a cover.”

“Could it be soon?” pressed Willa. “Belle and Baz … well … our house is reeeally small.” She looked pleadingly at Miss Trang, who suddenly smiled.

“I will call in the builders. Don’t worry so much, Willa. Everything will be fine.”

The bathroom door opened abruptly, and Willa fell into the bathroom. “Excuse me,” barked Belle, as she rolled her wheelchair to her room. Willa hauled herself to her feet and looked in the bathroom mirror. Tired eyes and frizzy hair, the frizz not helped by frequent applications of hair dye. Her mom, who waged eternal war on her own grey hairs with the stuff, was determined to obliterate the mysterious silver streak that had appeared in Willa’s hair after the business at the house. Willa squinted intently at her reflection. She had to admit the dye was doing its job; her hair looked totally normal again. Across the hall, Belle’s door slammed shut. Then her mom slammed the front door, and the house was silent. Totally normal.

Willa had to hurry to make it to school, but she still managed a detour, biking around by the manor. Still no sign of builders. She hoped Miss Trang hadn’t forgotten. In the park she spotted Tengu. He had found some new friends, a bunch of seniors who met every morning to do tai chi. Tengu saw her going past and broke out of the slow and graceful motions to wave frantically and hop up and down. Willa laughed. At least Tengu was enjoying himself and staying out of trouble.

She dashed in the front doors of the school just as the bell rang. As unreal as it seemed after the summer she’d had, Willa was again plodding up and down these dreary hallways, fighting to stay awake in class, and struggling to hold a simple conversation with her friends. Kate, Flora, and Nicole had been away all summer, and all they knew was that Willa had some awful job in an old folks’ home, there’d been a big fire, and now she was too serious and no fun at all. For her part, Willa thought her friends were too unserious, too giggly, too obsessed with TV shows and gossip. She didn’t know what to talk about with them anymore. When they were together she found herself staring into space, her mind elsewhere.

But that was another worry that Willa pushed to the back of her mind. So she didn’t have real friends any more. So what. She wasn’t all that certain she had time for them anyway.

In History class, Kate passed a note to her, something gossipy about another girl in their class. Willa was squinting at the scribble, trying to care, when she heard a tap-tap-tap on the window. She glanced over to see Tengu’s anxious face in the window. The third-storey window. He gestured urgently. Good grief, what now?

She asked to go to the washroom, where she slid open a window and stuck her head out. Tengu was in a tree, and when he spotted her he scrambled out on a limb and leaped and swung his way from tree to tree until he reached her window. It was quite impressive, actually. Willa was always surprised at what the little man could do. He landed in front of her, unleashing a torrent of words, including “They’ve come!” and “Ruckus” and “Robert!”

“Who’s come?”

“The builders!”

Uh-oh, thought Willa. A ruckus involving Robert was not good. Robert had a hot temper, and since he was a full-sized centaur it was hard enough keeping him out of sight without him going on a rampage. Willa did her best to calm Tengu down and promised to meet him at the house. He scampered down the tree, and she shut the window. Now I have to skip the rest of the afternoon. Terrific. Mom is going to love this.

When she arrived at the house, there was indeed a ruckus. She heard the bangs and shouts a block away. Tengu greeted her in the front yard, hopping from one foot to the other with anxious amusement. “Good, you’re here. Just in time. Hoo, boy! Robert’s gone crazy!”

Willa dropped her bike on the lawn. “Is Miss Trang here?”

Tengu shook his head. “Important meeting. Gone for a few days.”

Just then there was a mighty roar, and Robert appeared in the stable doorway, a slightly overweight, balding old man in a cardigan … with a horse’s body and legs. He ducked his head to come outside, but Willa and Tengu dashed up to stop him.

“Robert! You can’t come out here! Someone will see you!” Willa hissed. They tried to push him back, but he planted his hooves in the doorway and wouldn’t budge, his eyes blazing in outrage.

“I am NOT sharing my lodgings, as squalid as they are, with these nasty, smelly oafs!” he snarled.

“Robert! Calm down! We need them to rebuild the house!”

“I don’t care! They can stay somewhere else!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Willa saw Mrs. Hacker peering out her window. If Robert took one more step, she’d be able to see him.

“Get — a — grip, Robert! They CAN’T stay anywhere else!”

Willa and Tengu pushed again, and this time Robert stepped back into the darkness of the stable. Willa and Tengu followed, slamming the stable door behind them. There was a sudden fluttering around their heads. Willa instinctively raised her hands to swat, only to receive a couple of sharp nips.

“Ouch! Hey!”

A fairy hovered in the air in front of her, glaring. Behind her, three other fairies glimmered in the gloom.

“Sorry ladies, I thought you were moths.” Willa tried a smile. “How are you?” Looking up, she spotted Mab sitting on a rafter. “Hi, Mab, how’s things?”

The fairy queen turned away in disdain, refusing to speak. The other fairies began their angry chittering again.

“One at a time, please! I can’t understand you,” pleaded Willa. One fairy with a clipboard flew up, taking charge.

“Her High and Mighty Highness would like to communicate her complaints.” She whipped a tiny piece of paper off the clipboard and handed it to Willa.

“Um, thank you, Miss …?”

“My name is Saracenia, Sarah for short. I am Her Most Bountiful Majesty’s personal assistant.” Sarah was a pretty little thing, dressed in a velvety moss robe, clutching a clipboard and quill pen and regarding Willa with a very serious air. Willa peered at the tiny paper, which said:

1 ugly

2 stinky

3 vulgar

4 hairy

5 filthy

6 smelly

“‘Stinky’ and ‘smelly’ are technically the same thing.” Willa handed back the paper. “Who are you talking about anyway, the builders?”

“Of course!” snapped Sarah. “It is the position of our Most Ethereal One that the builders are utterly and entirely unacceptable!”

Robert stomped his hooves on the earthen floor. “Agreed! I will NOT share my living quarters with the scoundrels!” A chorus of fairy voices chimed in agreement.

“Please be reasonable,” begged Willa. “We desperately need a new house, and they’ve come to build us one.”

Robert scowled. Sarah scowled. Up on her rafter, Mab scowled. Willa took a last desperate stab. “You think you’ve got it bad? I have to share a bathroom with Belle!”

Robert snorted. Through the gloom, Willa thought she saw him hiding a smile. She stepped around him, squinting into the darkness.

“Where are they? I’d like to meet them. Oh!”

On all sides of the stable, nine figures were at work, slinging hammocks from the rafters and unpacking duffel bags. Nine stocky and very short men. Dwarves, to be precise, all looking at her with dark, unblinking eyes. They were uncannily garden gnomish, only missing the red caps. And they were definitely not human; their heads were massive, easily three times human size. The only thing keeping their big heads and huge hands from tipping them right over was the immense size of their feet. They were grimy and unkempt, in ancient leather garments and very muddy boots.

“Um … hello,” Willa ventured. They didn’t answer, just stared at her with those black button eyes. Unnerved, she turned back to Robert. “Listen, you won’t be roommates for too long. As soon as they build the first few rooms of the house, you can move in.” She looked to the dwarves. “Right?”

Some head-scratching, foot-shuffling, sideways glances, shaking of heads.

“No?” Willa raised an eyebrow.

The dwarves all looked to the one with the longest beard and most ornately embroidered jacket. Apparently the leader, he stepped up and looked very sternly at Willa, gesturing to himself and the other dwarves.

“When the first rooms are built, you’ll move in?” Willa put her hands on her hips. The dwarf leader crossed his arms defiantly. They regarded one another for a moment or two until Willa gave in.

“All right. You can be the first to move in, but only if you make the stable more secure before you begin on the house.” She gestured to the collapsed back wall of the stable, which Tengu and Robert had propped up with charred beams they’d pulled from the wreckage of the house. She’d always felt it was on the brink of falling down again. The dwarf leader walked over and gave it a long inspection. Then he nodded and held out a large hand. Willa shook it, her own hand disappearing in his rough grip.

“Okay,” Willa announced. “The dwarves will make the stable safe and then work on the house. They’ll be the first to move into the house, and then they’ll work on it extra fast.” She looked pointedly at the leader, but he kept his poker face. The other dwarves averted their eyes. One examined his blackened nails.

Willa was not filled with confidence, but at least Robert had calmed down. He backed into his corner of the stable and sat down, glowering. Willa looked up to see Mab whispering into Sarah’s ear. Sarah snapped her clipboard shut, put the quill pen behind her ear, and flew down to report.

“Our Supremely Serene Queen will allow this intrusion, but only on a temporary basis.”

“Thank you, Mab,” smiled Willa. She turned to the corner. “And you, Robert?”

“For you, Willa, I will put up with them,” he sniffed. “But I’m not going to like it.”