Authors: Emma Carroll
‘Stand back! No one touch it!’ Miss Stine cried.
Not that I had plans to. I’d felt the size of it when it had lain out dead; it was as big as a pony. And now, stood up, swaying like a drunk, its presence seemed to fill the room.
‘’Twas better left dead,’ said Mr Cox.
‘Too late for that.’ Mr Walton spoke through gritted teeth. ‘What do we do with it now?’
‘You can’t put it in that cage again,’ I said, remembering how miserable it had sounded. ‘Can’t you … I don’t know … take it back to where you caught it?’
‘And release it back into the wild? Don’t be ridiculous,’ Mr Walton snapped.
‘Quiet! All of you! I can’t think for your prattling!’ cried Miss Stine.
Her voice – shrill, excitable – made the wolf panic. It leapt from the table, dragging wires and knives with
it in a whirlwind of legs, tongue, fur. It knocked me into Miss Stine.
‘Stay still!’ she gasped. ‘No one move!’
I cowered in fright. What I heard now was the ticking and scrabbling of claws on tiles as the wolf did a frenzied lap of the room. It crashed against the window, the walls. Candles were knocked flying. Bottles smashed to the floor. The air filled with its animal stink.
‘It’s gone berserk! It needs shooting!’ Mr Cox cried.
Eventually, the wolf slowed and began sniffing the ground.
‘I’ll fetch my rifle, shall I?’ Mr Cox said shakily.
Miss Stine almost laughed. ‘After what I’ve done? Don’t you realise what you’ve just witnessed, Mr Cox?’
I did.
Part of me felt as stunned and dazed as the wolf itself. Miss Stine had just brought a dead animal back to life, and she’d done it using electricity – lightning – the very thing that killed Mam and left me blind. I didn’t understand the static and the metal and how much was too much, only that somehow she’d made it work. It was an amazing, jaw-dropping thing.
I felt a giddy rush of excitement. What if electricity could bring humans back to life like it had done the
wolf? Perhaps then Mam could’ve been saved. With Miss Stine’s equipment and knowledge, she’d still be here now. And Peg and Da and Mercy: I’d never have to lose them, either, or visit their sad, sorry graves in the churchyard.
It was almost too much to hope for.
No wonder Miss Godwin had been so thrilled. Anyone who’d lost someone dear would wish for this.
Yet my excitement quickly grew cold. There were other issues, other problems, and not just the unsettled feeling that had taken hold of me. Miss Stine had done something miraculous, but it left us with a very dangerous animal on our hands. And that smell …
that smell
…
‘Something’s burning,’ I said.
No one heard me: they were too busy bickering. The wolf, snapping and growling, sounded ready to spring.
‘Pass me the broom,’ Mr Walton said.
‘A rifle’s the weapon you really want, sir,’ said Mr Cox.
‘If either of you so much as touch that animal I’ll dismiss you both on the spot!’ Miss Stine cried.
‘Dismiss us?’ Mr Walton said. ‘Ha! We’ll have to get out of here alive first!’
‘Oh, don’t be so theatrical!’
‘I’m being
practical
!’
Miss Stine breathed deeply. ‘Then I don’t wish to hear your practicality, Mr Walton. It didn’t save your men in the Arctic, did it? I don’t believe it will save you now. The wolf is simply frightened. It won’t bite.’
I wasn’t so sure. The wolf was making a strange growling noise in its throat. The burning smell had got stronger too. There wasn’t a fire alight in this room. Yet I could detect smoke.
In order to get electricity, the storm had to strike the roof pole, that’s what Miss Stine said. And I knew what happened to things hit by lightning. Something was definitely burning. A roof struck by lightning was the likely place for a fire to start. And when I thought who was upstairs, sound asleep in bed, my blood turned cold.
Peg.
‘Fire!’ I said, shaky at first then in proper panic, ‘FIRE! Oh heck, there’s a FIRE!’
The door was to my right, I recalled. Stumbling towards it, I bashed against boxes and chairs.
‘Stand still! Don’t run!’ Miss Stine yelled.
Whether she meant me or not, I didn’t know. Didn’t care.
Then came a scream.
‘Arrrghhh!’ Mr Walton cried. ‘Get it off me! I beg you!’
There was a frenzy of claws. Snarling. Snapping. Something sounding horribly wet. Then came a rip, a tearing noise like a rabbit being skinned. And gurgling and gasping that was definitely human.
I blocked out the rest: it was too awful to contemplate. All that mattered was reaching Peg.
Out in the passage, the smoke was already thickening. I couldn’t remember the way back to the main part of the house – was it left or right? I went left. The passage ended abruptly in a wall. Cussing myself, I turned and rushed back the way I’d just come. With each stride the smoke got stronger. My throat grew tight and hot. Then underfoot the floor changed from flagstones to marble and I knew I’d reached the main hall.
There were people everywhere, shouting and sloshing water and running from room to room. There wasn’t a single second to lose. Then someone shouted. ‘Get that girl out of here! It’s not safe! Now the attic’s alight, the rest of the house won’t be far behind.’
I’d been spotted.
Footsteps rushed towards me, then faltered. ‘But I’ve to fill these water buckets!’
‘Do it, then! Quickly!’
And in the panic, I was forgotten.
Finding the nearest door, I ducked behind it before anyone could lay hands on me and haul me outside. I pulled the door shut. Now I stood in some sort of dark cupboard, and I didn’t know what to do next. The smoke was already making me cough, and I still had to reach Peg.
As I stood fidgeting my toe hit something unexpectedly hard. It was, I realised, a step. There were more, going up and up. My heart leapt. This wasn’t a cupboard. It was a whole flight of stairs, probably the ones used by servants to carry laundry and bedpans so no one important ever saw. Seizing the handrail, I charged upwards.
The stairs didn’t stop at a landing. They twisted round and round for what felt like miles. The smoke got thicker. Hotter. Each breath hurt like knives. At the top of the stairs the heat was so fierce it had used up all the air. Above my head, I heard strange hissing sounds. I smelled smoke, wood, burning hair. Bright patterns danced before my eyes. And then came another
whoosh
of heat.
Peg was in here somewhere. I had to get to her. But I couldn’t remember which room was ours. Mam
would’ve known. She’d have been brave enough to keep going too, and not stand around dithering.
‘Think, Lizzie, think,’ I said out loud. Immediately, I started coughing. My only hope was to do what I’d done before and feel along the wall.
I moved down the passage, my free hand covering my mouth. Above me, the hissing sound grew louder. The smoke was so thick I could taste it. Sweat stuck my hair to my face and neck.
Suddenly I tripped, lurching forward into space and falling hard on my knees. But when I stood up again, I laughed out loud. That stupid single step had caught me out last time. It meant I was right outside our room.
The bedroom door was already open.
‘Peg?’ I cried. ‘Are you there? Wake up! I’ve come to get you!’
Tripping over those same blasted chairs, I somehow found my way to the bed. The sheets were thrown back. The bed was empty. My legs sagged with relief. But there wasn’t time to even gather my wits. Right above me, the ceiling groaned. Dust fell in my face. In my mouth. Gasping, I found the door again, the single step in the passageway. Then I had to stop and throw up.
At the top of the staircase, I hesitated. My head felt
like it was lifting off my shoulders. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Peg had got out. She was safe. All was going to be fine. Before my eyes everything seemed to sparkle. Then the walls closed in around me.
I came to lying on my back. I was outside on wet grass, and it was still raining. For a moment I simply lay there, letting the wetness seep into my skin. I’d been sick again and the smell of that and the smoke made my head hurt. When I did open my eyes, I was aware of something very light and bright, blazing through the trees.
‘You’re all right. We got you out just in time,’ said a familiar voice, pushing a cup of water into my hand. It was Ruth the maid. ‘Don’t think they’re going to save the house, though.’
I sat up shakily. ‘Is my sister here? Did she get out?’
‘Shh, easy now,’ she said. ‘Your sister got out, yes.’
‘Oh thank goodness!’ The relief set me off coughing again.
‘Here, sip some of this water.’ She took the cup and raised it to my mouth. ‘Miss Stine and Mr Walton weren’t with you, were they? No one can find them anywhere. I can’t bear to think what’s happened.’
I couldn’t bear to, either. But I knew I’d never forget what it felt like to touch a wolf, to sink my fingers into its fur and feel twitching muscle beneath. Nor would I forget the sound of Mr Walton’s screams. Both would haunt me forever.
I took another sip of water. It was best just to think about finding Peg.
‘Where is my sister, then?’ I said, supposing she was out here on the grass somewhere.
‘She’s gone, went quite a while ago,’ said Ruth.
‘Gone? Back to the village?’
She didn’t answer.
‘What’s happened?’ I said. ‘Where’s Peg?’
‘She left with the guests a couple of hours back,’ said Ruth in a nervous rush. ‘Took off in a right hurry they did, and I know I shouldn’t say this for worrying you, but your sister didn’t seem like she wanted to go. It was just after they got the news that Miss Godwin’s father had come looking for her. Asked Mr Cox’s son to drive them all the way to the coast so they could catch an early boat to France and then on to Switzerland. I heard them say they were taking Peg with them …’
‘To the Villa Diodati,’ I murmured. Despite everything that faraway-sounding name had stuck in my head.
And with it came a terrifying thought.
Of Peg strapped to a chair just like I’d been, wires fixed to her head. Of Miss Godwin almost delirious with the hope Miss Stine had given her.
Was
this
why they’d taken her?
Did they want Miss Stine’s experiment to work so much that they were willing to practise it themselves on Peg? They’d been happy enough to watch Miss Stine work on me, and desperate enough to take a child against her wishes.
And now I was too late to save her.
Or was I? Ruth was saying something about muddy roads. ‘They’ll be lucky if they make that early boat after all this rain.’
I scrambled to my feet. If I reached the coast by daybreak, I might just be able to get to Peg before she and Miss Godwin’s party set sail for the Continent.
*
Yet by the time I arrived in Sweepfield, so too had news of the fire. The streets were as busy as day and full of talk.
‘The whole of Eden Court is alight, with little chance of saving it,’ someone said.
‘Aye, ’tis terrible!’ said another. ‘All that furniture and silver. ’Tis worth more than this village put together.’
‘I heard they can’t find that Walton chap, the scientist.’
No one mentioned Miss Stine. But then, why would they? They probably didn’t know she existed.
‘Pardon me, but my sister’s missing,’ I interrupted. ‘I need to go after her. Can any of you help me reach the coast?’
I didn’t think they’d heard me. So I tried again. ‘Can anyone take me to the coast, please? I beg of you.’
‘We know your sister’s missing, Lizzie Appleby, and that your da’s gone off to fetch her back,’ one of the speakers said. ‘Now go on home and leave it to him. Everyone here’s busy with the fire tonight.’
I began to panic. ‘But she got snatched by those people at Eden Court and now they’ve gone off in a carriage to catch a boat!’
‘Listen to her. She’s not right in the head, she in’t,’ another person said, meaning me. ‘And fancy being outside in a filthy nightgown.’
Coming as I had from the fire, I’d forgotten what a state I must look. I wrapped my arms around myself to try and hide the worst of it. I’d grown cold too.
The rain had stopped now, but the night air was very cool.
‘You must help me, please!’ I cried.
‘Go home, miss,’ the first voice said again. It was obvious these people weren’t going to offer any assistance.
I went further on, past the village green and the church, and the turning for Mill Lane. Folks stood in doorways gossiping. There were sounds of horses being saddled and buckets gathered up. Plenty of help was on offer for Eden Court, so it seemed.
‘Is anyone travelling to the coast?’ I asked, stopping everyone I could. ‘I need to follow our Peg. She was taken in a carriage from Eden Court earlier tonight.’
‘Planned that well then, didn’t she, to get out just before the fire,’ said a woman from her doorstep.
I stared in the direction of her voice. ‘She isn’t responsible, if that’s what you mean.’
‘No course she in’t. Like she weren’t responsible for those animals going missing, neither.’
‘But she isn’t! She’s done nothing wrong!’
‘Aye, so you’ve said,’ the woman said, and shut her door on me.
I stood, reeling. And though I tried very hard not to cry or to scream, I was right on the verge of doing both.
So this was what it had come to. Peg was being blamed – we as a
family
were being blamed. From now on every time bad luck befell Sweepfield it would be our doing. Never mind fate or the stars or pure and simple bad weather. It was all down to those Applebys, whose mother always did have too much to say for herself and got what she deserved in the end.
‘Lizzie? What are you doing down there?’
I looked up. ‘Mercy? Is that you?’
‘Of course it’s me, you idiot!’
Without realising it, I’d walked as far as the bakery. Some feet above my head, Mercy leant out of her bedchamber window. I was so glad that tears rolled down my cheeks.
‘What the heck’s happened to you?’ she gasped. ‘You look dreadful!’
‘Never mind that now,’ I said. ‘Listen, I need your help. Some people have snatched Peg and I have to go after her.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Mercy said. The window shut as she disappeared inside.
‘No, Mercy! Wait!’ I cried.
The window opened again. ‘What is it?’
‘Look, this is proper serious. I need to get to the coast by morning.’
‘The
coast
? Blimey, Lizzie, what’s going on?’
I didn’t know where to start, so I kept it simple.
‘Peg’s been taken by a Mr Shelley and a Miss Godwin who were staying at Eden Court. They’re catching a boat across the Channel first thing. If I’m to get Peg back then I need to leave Sweepfield tonight.’
‘So I can’t come with you?’
Dear Mercy.
It was a struggle not to accept her offer. Her eyes would be a great help, her company even more so. Yet this was a grim, ugly business. It didn’t seem right to drag her into it, especially when she had responsibilities of her own.
‘Your mam needs you here in the shop,’ I said. ‘And it’ll be easier to hitch a ride if there’s just one of us. Fingers crossed I’ll be back in a day or two.’
There was the chance I’d not be, though, not if I didn’t make the boat. I’d go all the way to Switzerland if I had to. I wouldn’t come back without Peg. I think Mercy guessed as much, too.
‘All right,’ she said after a long pause. ‘Wait there a minute.’ A moment of quiet, then she was back at the window. ‘Here, put these on.’
Something soft fell beside me on the cobbles. Then a heavier
thud – thud.
Feeling around, I found a clean
dress, a shawl that smelled of baking and Mercy’s old clogs.
‘Thank you.’ I dragged the clothes on quick and felt better for it. ‘If my da comes back before me, tell him where I’ve gone.’
‘I will. Good luck, Lizzie. Your mam would be proud of you.’
I smiled. ‘Thank you.’ Then, out of nowhere, I remembered Isaac. ‘Have you seen Isaac Blake today?’
‘Huh! Why’d I want to see him?’ she said, suddenly sulky.
‘Have you
seen
him?’ I repeated.
‘He came to the shop this morning when we were really busy. Kept coming back and all so Mam told him to clear off. He’s been here tonight too, chucking stones at my window. Said he needed to talk to me urgently. I thought you were him again, to be honest.’
It was a relief to hear Isaac was back in the village and not still stuck somewhere inside that burning house. I’d hoped he’d come to Mercy to raise the alarm, or at least tell her about me disappearing from the barn where he’d left me. And as it sounded like he’d tried, he might still be willing to help.
‘Don’t think too badly of him, Mercy,’ I said. ‘He’s a decent sort really.’
‘What d’you mean? I thought you hated him?’
‘I’ve seen a better side to him today. And he’s still proper daft about you, you know.’
After saying my goodbyes to Mercy, I hurried down the street. I just hoped I could find my way to Isaac’s farm. Not twenty yards further on, I came across two men having a heated debate.
‘Not likely! Not on these roads. It’s a good thirty miles to the coast from here. You’ll never make it by morning!’
‘I
have
to make it, sir. Otherwise my daughter’s ship will have sailed and my mission to find her will have been in vain.’
This second speaker didn’t sound local. From what he was saying, it soon became clear who he was.
‘Then you’d do better keeping a closer eye on her in the first place, wouldn’t you? Daughters are going missing left, right and flipping centre round here these days.’
‘So you won’t help me, then?’
‘How can I? You’ll need a carthorse to get through this mud.’
‘And who might have one of those around here?’
I knew the answer; I was seeking the same thing myself.
Clearing my throat, I tapped what I hoped was the
right man’s arm.
‘If you’re Mr Godwin and your daughter is called Mary, then I reckon I can be of assistance to you.’
And Mr Godwin, with his eyes that worked, would definitely be of help to me.