Curse of the Spider King (37 page)

The driver cast her a long look. He didn't open the door. She asked, “Is there a problem?”

“It's just that I picked yu up from the station, fresh from France, now I'm droppin' yu off on the street here. No bags. No nothin'. And yu got slippers on yur feet. Are yu sure—?

”

“Thank you, sir, for your concern. You are most kind. But I assure you, I'll be fine.”

“If that's what yu say, lass.” The driver moved the lever, and the doors parted. Kiri Lee thanked him, descended, and then watched the doors close. He smiled once more from his seat before pulling the bus back into traffic. At least someone cared, and she was relieved that she was the only one who got off the bus.

Kiri Lee drew in a deep breath of the autumn air and felt Edinburgh rise around her. A recent rain had soaked the stones giving the air a rich, earthy smell. But just ahead, shrouds of steam rose from the ground and floated ominously across the road. Kiri Lee, frozen in place, fixed her eyes on the whirling, writhing vapors. She waited until she was certain it was safe and then merged with a group of people walking across the street. She kept her distance and watched everyone around her. A woman stopped abruptly and turned to walk back. Kiri Lee dodged awkwardly and bumped into someone.

A gangly teenager stared at her darkly and said, “Steady on! What's the matter with yu?”

Kiri Lee muttered a quick, “Sorry!” and hurried away. She turned and scanned the road.
Where did she go?
At last she saw the woman. She stood on the corner and hugged another woman like they were old friends.

Kiri Lee continued walking. A man just four feet in front of Kiri Lee shoved his hand into his coat pocket.
Knife?!
Kiri Lee's heart took off, but the man was only taking out a cell phone. Danger seemed to lurk all around her. Strangers' glances felt threatening and mean. Conversations around her seemed secretive or angry. Even a toddler's cries sounded creepy and unnatural. So when most of the crowd turned right to head to the car park that bordered the garden, she turned left and aimed for the massive front gate trimmed in black and gold.

A royal guard stood watch at the palace gate. Kiri Lee took a deep breath and looked down at herself; her clothes from the night before, still damp with rain, a cut on her sleeve, and her dirty bedroom slippers. No one in their right mind would let her into a hotel, let alone the Royal Palace of Edinburgh. But she had come this far. She prayed the invitation would do the rest.

Kiri Lee felt the man's cold eyes follow her as she neared the gate. Just as he was surely about to dismiss her, she raised the invitation and saw his attention shift to the gold-embossed document in her hand.

“M'lady? May I be of service?” he said, his voice deep and strong. Kiri Lee got the impression that if he ever yelled “STOP!” everyone within a mile radius would immediately freeze.

“Aye,” she tried her best Scottish just for fun and handed him the invitation, as well as her photo ID from her wallet. Then came the tough explanation. “My presence has been requested by the Royal Family for a solo performance at this week's concert . . . well, as you can see. I'm afraid, however, that I needed to respond to the request early, as circumstances beyond my control—”

“Say no more, m'lady. I will fetch a steward at once. Please wait just inside here.”

Surprised, Kiri Lee slid inside the gatehouse and took a seat as the guard walked across the grand driveway leading to the palace. “I'm in,” she said quietly to herself. She was so tired. Tired, confused, terrified, anxious, and grief stricken. She leaned forward and sobbed into her hands.

Across the street, standing in the shadows between a tavern and a small confectionary selling the city's finest traditional Scottish sweets, stood a man in a charcoal gray coat. He spoke into a cell phone palmed in a black gloved hand.

“She's here,” he said.

A pause.

“Inside the palace now.”

A much longer pause.

“Difficult but not impossible.” He closed the phone, placed it in his coat pocket, and removed a small plastic container. He unscrewed the lid and shook the contents into the palm of his hand: three black spiders with very long red legs. The man in the gray coat whispered something to the spiders and they crept up onto his sleeve. Then he crossed the bronze brick road and walked directly in front of the palace gate. As he passed, the spiders dropped off of his sleeve and began a long, stealthy crawl.

Mr. Barnabas, the steward, was a portly, balding man with a thick handlebar mustache and a heavy English accent. He reminded Kiri Lee of the little cartoon guy in the Monopoly game. He said something like, “Follow me,” and then several mumbled syllables Kiri Lee did not understand. He led her to a room—a suite, actually. It was so beautiful that Kiri Lee almost gasped when she entered. Thick carpets as soft as velvet, fine oak and cedar furniture, even a big Narnia-like wardrobe. Kiri Lee thought there must have been some mistake. Clearly this was one of the royal bedrooms.

But the steward said, “Will this—
mumble, mutter
—meet your needs—
mutter, mumble
—Miss Yuen?”

Kiri Lee nodded repeatedly. After the steward left she took a closer look around the room. The bed had one of those fully enclosed canopies like the princesses always had in the storybooks. But as exhausted as she was, she dare not flop onto the bed and dirty the sheets. She needed a shower.

As Kiri Lee folded her dirty clothes and slipped into a bathrobe, she didn't notice a tiny set of eight eyes peering up at her from the heating grate in the floor beside the wardrobe. When she started the water running in the shower, she didn't notice the red-legged spider waiting in the gap beneath the bathroom door. And when she began to wash the grime away under the pulses of very hot water, she didn't notice the small shadow moving up the outside of the shower curtain.

As Kiri Lee showered and shampooed, her thoughts turned again to her parents.
What could have happened to them?
Those mist creatures were some kind of impostors. Of this, she was sure. Even though they looked like her parents—well, except for those strange smiles—they didn't know the first thing about her family.

Kiri Lee was lost in thought under the warm water when a spider moved stealthily along the top of the shower curtain. It paused, its venom-filled fangs protracted, then crouched, ready to spring.

Kiri Lee spun, and in one quick motion, turned off the water and pushed the shower curtain along the bar to the far left. The spider found itself surrounded by the curtain. It managed to clamber out of the folds and back up onto the shower rod. It raced along the chrome rod and leaped for Kiri Lee's exposed back. It sank its fangs deep into . . . the thick collar of a bathrobe. Kiri Lee pulled her wet hair out from under the collar and, with a practiced turn of the head, tossed her hair behind her. The abrupt motion knocked the spider off onto the floor.

Kiri Lee left the bathroom, and the spider skittered after her. To her surprise an elderly woman in a blue business dress stood near the open wardrobe busily hanging garments. Her white hair was done up with pins, and she wore eyeglasses that made her look both gentle and wise.

“Miss Yuen, I am Mrs. Sherman.” She gave a smart dip of her head and continued in her strong Queen's English. “I understand you might be in need of some wardrobe expansion.” She smiled for a moment, but it was replaced by a half-angry, half-embarrassed scowl. Mrs. Sherman marched around Kiri Lee and slammed her foot down on the floor, making an audible crunch. “Dreadfully sorry, Miss Yuen,” she said, grinding her heel into the floor. “A spider. I'll have Mr. Barnabas check the room for you later.”

Kiri Lee stepped quickly away from the spider remains. “
Eww
,” she said. “I don't much like spiders.”

“Nor do I,” Mrs. Sherman replied. She held out a hand to Kiri Lee. “As I was saying, Miss Yuen, I've brought you some clothing and a selection of shoes. I hope it suits you.”

Kiri Lee was speechless, but her mind was busy.
I thought sure
they'd refuse to let me in, or even call the police. But instead, they give me a
huge room and extra clothes?

“I also brought some food and tea.” She pointed to a tray of cheeses, crackers, fruit, a pot of tea, and water. “I will be your personal chaperone for the length of your stay,” Mrs. Sherman continued. “That is not to say that you will not have your personal freedoms, but seeing as you came alone.”

There was an awkward pause just then.

Mrs. Sherman tilted her head and took a step forward. “Though I cannot help but ask . . . you come to us unannounced, a week ahead of schedule, and without any belongings save the clothes on your back and”—she eyed the dirty bedroom slippers on the floor—“your
shoes
. Are not your parents planning on—?”

“Mrs. Sherman,” Kiri Lee said, “I'm not sure how to say this.” Her mind raced along, trying to think of words to describe . . . to convey . . .

“Go on.”

“When you are the child-prodigy daughter of aspiring musicians, you . . . well . . . sometimes I find that I am, uh . . . they are so dedicated to their craft that—”

“Peace, child,” interrupted Mrs. Sherman. “I understand all too well.”

Thank You, God!
Kiri Lee thought to herself. She sighed with relief.

“Make yourself at home, Miss Yuen. I'm sure you are quite fatigued after your trip. Tomorrow we can set up a practice schedule and find you an appropriate instrument. Perhaps you would like to do a bit of sightseeing, too.”

“Can we schedule a visit to a castle?”

“A castle? Of course, my dear.” She gestured toward the window. “Of course, Edinburgh Castle is—”

“It's magnificent,” Kiri Lee said. “I came once a few years back. But I was hoping to see a different castle, if I could.”

Mrs. Sherman smiled and went to the drawer of the big mahogany desk by the window. She took out a half-inch notebook and handed it to Kiri Lee. “I suspect you will find something you like in here.”

Kiri Lee looked at the notebook and grinned.
Castles of Scotland
, it read. “I think you're right.”

“My number is by the phone. Ring me when you find one you like. I'll have Collin, my chauffeur, take us tomorrow.”

“Thank you, so much,” Kiri Lee said. “Things have been . . .” Kiri Lee choked up.

Mrs. Sherman put a tender hand on her shoulder. “I understand . . . believe me I do. Let nothing trouble you now. Relax and enjoy the castles.”

“Thank you,” Kiri Lee whispered.

As soon as Mrs. Sherman was gone, Kiri Lee changed into a casual outfit, slacks and a dark-green, long-sleeved shirt, and got crackers and cheese and some water. Then she flopped onto the cushy bed and opened up the notebook. Page after page of magnificent castles were not enough to bring her comfort. Mrs. Sherman was kind, but wrong. There was no way she could understand what Kiri Lee had been through.

She continued to page through the castles until she came to Dalhousie Castle. No sooner had she seen its massive central turret, its vast gabled roof, and its formidable keep than she began to hear the first sweet notes. Soon that elusive melody poured into her mind, and she felt as if Dalhousie Castle was a place she had always been meant to go. Yes, she would call Mrs. Sherman and see if they could travel to Dalhousie Castle. She lay back on the bed and fell asleep with the open book on her chest.

The two remaining red-legged spiders, one on either side of the bed canopy, began to descend on invisible threads.

36

Dalhousie Castle

A LOUD knock on the door woke Kiri Lee with a start. The castle notebook fell onto the floor as she bounced out of bed just as one spider landed on her pillow and the other was still dangling on its web near the foot of the bed.

“I say, Miss Yuen—”came the voice, followed by a few mumbles. “It's Mr. Barnabas. May I come in?”