The Chimera's Curse Read online

  Col sat down at the table and tapped his fingers impatiently. He wished now he had slipped away and gone straight home. Connie, equally perplexed, helped herself to a glass of water at the sink, leaned against the edge, and waited.

  When Evelyn came in, with her long brown hair bundled up in a crimson scarf, Connie saw instantly that her aunt looked distinctly unwell. She poured a second glass of water and held it out to her.

  “Here, have this. You don’t look good.”

  “Thanks, Connie,” said Evelyn, taking the water and gazing at it as if she would rather not drink it. “I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.”

  Connie took a step forward and put her hand to her aunt’s forehead to see if she had a fever. Connie gave a small gasp.

  “You’re not…?” Connie asked.

  “I am,” said Evelyn with a weak smile. “Feeling ghastly, but I am. How did you know?”

  Col looked from one to the other. Connie, at least, now seemed to understand what was going on here, but he was still in the dark. Was Evelyn seriously ill? Surely not?

  “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” he demanded, feeling a sharp pang of concern.

  Mack strode over to his son and clapped him on the shoulder. “How would you like to hear that you are going to have a brother—”

  “Or sister,” added Evelyn.

  “—or sister? In March, we think.”

  Col’s jaw dropped. “You’re not…?” he asked Mack.

  “Yep. Going to have a baby. Well, Evie’s going to have the baby. I’m just the proud father.” Mack went over to his wife and gave her a gentle squeeze.

  “Poor kid,” said Col with a broad grin.

  “So you’re pleased?” Mack looked a little worried. Mack and Col both knew that he had not been the perfect father to Col, absent for much of the time.

  “’Course I’m pleased.” But for all his delight, Col couldn’t help feeling jealous of the new baby. He or she would have Mack as a proper father, something Col had never been allowed.

  Evelyn turned to Connie. “And what do you think?” she asked her niece.

  Connie had just been wondering if this new turn of events would mean that she was still welcome at Number Five. There wasn’t much space and she had the attic bedroom, leaving just one for guests.

  “It’s great news. I’m really pleased.” How could she not be when it was so clearly what Evelyn and Mack wanted?

  “So tell me, Connie, how did you know?” Evelyn was looking at her shrewdly with her bright green eyes.

  Connie rubbed her throat. How could she explain? “I felt him—or her,” she added quickly. “I could feel another life.” She did not want to go on to say what else she knew. Why spoil the surprise with something that was for the moment only a suspicion?

  When Col left the impromptu celebration in the kitchen, he found that Mags was not alone by the front gate. The boy he’d met hours earlier on the beach was waiting for him on the steps that led down to the shore, absentmindedly brushing the sand from his feet, his nose red after a day of playing in the sun. He sprang up when he heard the gate clang shut and flashed a gappy-toothed grin at Col.

  “See, I’m still here!” he said in an eager voice.

  Col groaned inwardly. He would have very much preferred to head straight home so he could be alone with his thoughts about his father’s news—but a promise was a promise.

  “Where’s your mum and dad?” Col asked, looking up and down the beach. It was deserted, the tide in, and the long, yawning shadows cast by the cliff made it far less inviting than it had appeared earlier in the day. The sea had lost its sparkle and now lapped with a dull gray sheen against the seaweed-strewn stones. A red light flushed the sky as the sun slipped beyond the horizon.

  “They’ve gone back to the hotel,” said the boy, gesturing over his shoulder toward the harbor. “They know I’m with you.”

  That was a bit odd. The boy didn’t even know Col’s name but had just assumed that he would keep his word and let him ride. And the boy’s parents had let him stay out this late on his own? Col’s grandmother wouldn’t have done the same when he was the boy’s age.

  “I can’t give you a long ride because Mags here has been out all day and needs to get back to his stable.” Col patted his horse on the neck and gave him an apologetic look. Mags shook his mane, forgiving Col his foolish generosity. “But I can take you for a quick trot on the beach. Have you ever ridden before?”

  “Nope,” said the boy happily, already attempting to scramble onto Mags’s back as if the horse was a jungle gym. Col grabbed him by the back of his T-shirt and pulled him down.

  “Not like that,” he said, half-amused, half-irritated. “Here, put this helmet on. Then put one foot in the stirrup, and I’ll help you up.”

  Once the boy was safely in the saddle, Col shortened the stirrups and took Mags’s halter. With a click of his tongue, he led the way down to the beach. Mags snorted in disgust as the boy bounced up and down, crowing with delight.

  “Look, mate, he’s got feelings, you know: he’s not a pogo stick,” Col called up.

  “Sorry!” said the boy, still laughing. “This is great. I’ve always dreamed of riding a real horse.”

  Col whispered something in Mags’s ear, and in unison they began to trot along the strand. The boy was now bouncing for real on the horse’s back, clearly in seventh heaven. They reached the limit of the beach, forward progress cut off by the tide, and Col turned for home.

  “What’s that?” called the boy, pointing over Mags’s head up in the air.

  Plumes of dark gray cloud were rising from the cliff top. Col caught the scent of smoke. He led the horse and rider into the shallows so he could get a better look. There was an orange glow above them, like a fringe of flaming hair on the brow of the hill.

  “Some idiot’s started a fire,” Col answered. “Shift up. We’ve got to call the fire brigade.” He swung up behind the boy and urged Mags forward, cursing himself for leaving his phone at home.

  The boy was still staring with wonder at the fire.

  “I can see people in the flames, dancing!” he said excitedly. “Let’s go up there!”

  “No,” said Col sharply. “There can’t be—not in the fire.” However, he could see that there were shapes very like people leaping into the sky. But they were not human. The fire imps were rejoicing in the blaze. He wondered that the boy had seen them so quickly. Most people just dismissed them as odd silhouettes in the flames.

  “But I must go up!” the boy cried. His eyes shone with a fanatical gleam as he twisted around in the saddle to stare up at the fire. “They’re calling to me!” He began to slip from Mags’s back as if he intended to scale the sheer cliff face in his desperation to reach the imps. Col gripped his arms firmly and yanked him back on.

  “You’re not going up there.” He kicked Mags into a trot that swiftly turned into a gallop, and the boy was forced to concentrate on staying seated. Mags surged up the slope from the beach back to Number Five. Col dismounted, pulling the boy after him. “You’re coming with me.” He did not trust the boy on his own, sure that he would run back to the fire the moment he was left alone.

  “But—!” protested the boy, reluctantly allowing Col to propel him up the path to the back door, his eyes still fixed on the blaze.

  Col banged the door open and pushed him into the kitchen, much to the astonishment of Connie and Mack, who were just sitting down to supper. Evelyn had returned to bed, not feeling up to eating. Mack rose abruptly to his feet, chair clattering to the floor behind him.

  “I’ve got to use your phone,” Col said. “The headland’s on fire.”

  Mack tossed him the handset. “And who’s this?” Mack asked, looking the boy up and down. Col shrugged, having just got through to the emergency switchboard.

  “I’m Liam,” said the boy defiantly, his chin tilted up to face the imposing figure of Mack Clamworthy.

  “Sure you are,” said Mack with a grin, takin
g an instant liking to the lad. “Sit down. Col won’t be long.”

  “Would you like something to drink, Liam?” Connie asked. She got to her feet and took a glass from the draining board. If she had been him, she knew she would not have liked being stared at by two strangers.

  Liam, however, had other things on his mind besides standing in an unfamiliar kitchen. “There’re people up there—dancing around in the flames!” he said. “I saw them with my own eyes. I’ve got to get back to them.” He half-turned as if to make a dash for the door.

  “Hey there!” Mack blocked the exit. “Calm down!”

  Connie paused, her hand gripping the cool glass at the tap. She closed her eyes and felt out to the cliff top, sensing the presence of the fire imps, darting in and out of the tongues of fire curling up from the bone-dry grass. When she opened her eyes, she saw Col looking at her, and he gave her a slight nod of confirmation.

  “Didn’t you hear them calling us to come and join them?” Liam asked Col. His gray-green eyes, the color of smoke, were wide with a mixture of exhilaration and anger that no one seemed to understand or believe him.

  Col shook his head. “No. I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “But you must’ve!” Liam said desperately, his fists clenched. “Their voices were like…” He paused, struggling to find the right words. “They sounded really clear to me like—”

  “Like crackling twigs, hissing logs, and popping sparks,” said Connie softly. Liam turned to stare at her in amazement.

  “You heard them then?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’ve heard them,” said Connie. “Now, Liam, what would you like to drink? You want a drink, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” said Liam, licking his sunburnt lips and giving her a wary look. “Have you got Coke?”

  “Sorry, only water or orange juice.”

  “Juice then.”

  In the distance, the wail of a siren announced the arrival of the first firefighters on the cliff top. Connie handed Liam his drink and led him to a chair. The others were silent, content to let the universal deal with the situation. “I know what you heard, Liam, but it’s not safe to follow those voices until you know more about the creatures,” she said.

  “Creatures?” Liam was gazing at Connie like he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Col knew that there was something special about the effect Connie had on some people, those who were most sensitive to her gift, but seeing her with Liam made him realize anew that there was a mesmerizing power within her. She contained a spring of energy that bubbled up and out to other living beings. He couldn’t look away from her, either.

  “Yes, creatures.” Connie knelt beside Liam and put a hand on his arm. “You’ve seen the fire imps tonight. Your companion species, I think. But you must keep it a secret from everyone until we’ve had a chance to talk to your parents. You see, we want to introduce you to other people—people like you.”

  Mack gave a discreet cough. “He’s a bit young for an assessment, Connie,” he said. “You-know-who’ll never agree to do it.” He was right: Ivor Coddrington would not consider examining anyone under ten.

  “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?” said Connie. She was no longer afraid of the assessor, her declared enemy within the Society. His opposition to the existence of a universal was now just a fact of life. “Liam’s seen them—he’s heard them.”

  “Yeah, you’re right as usual,” Mack conceded.

  “I’ll take it to the Trustees if I have to. Anyway, perhaps it’s not Mr. Coddrington we need to ask. Liam, where do you live?”

  “London,” said Liam, looking puzzled by this exchange. “Vauxhall.”

  “That’s near Brixton, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Connie smiled. Here was the answer: Horace and Antonia Little, her friends in Brixton, would help. Antonia was a member of the Company of the Elementals, creatures made of the four elements of water, earth, wind, and fire. And London had a different assessor. That meant she needn’t approach Ivor Coddrington for help.

  Col glanced up at the clock. It was half-past eight. “We’d better get you back to your hotel,” he said to Liam. “Your mum and dad will be worried about you.”

  “No, they won’t,” said Liam matter-of-factly, getting up to go. “They’ll be down at the pub by now. As long as I’m in bed when they get back, they won’t care.”

  Col again swallowed his surprise that no one seemed to be looking out for Liam. “Well, I’ve got to get back. My gran will be wondering where I am. Come on.”

  Liam took a reluctant step to follow him. “Can I come back tomorrow?” He looked to Connie as if he half-expected a rejection.

  “I’m not here tomorrow,” Connie said. Liam’s face fell.

  “Okay,” he said in a small but bitter voice. “Fine.”

  “But if you’re still here on Tuesday, come by,” she added swiftly. Liam smiled.

  Col grabbed a slice of garlic bread from the table. “But I’m here tomorrow. I’ll look out for you on the beach. Maybe Dad and I should try to meet your parents?”

  His father got up and slung his jacket over his shoulder, keys jangling in its pockets.

  “I was thinking of calling in at the Anchor to see if I can spot them tonight,” said Mack. “I’ll break the ice over a couple of beers. Let me walk you two back.”

  Liam, who had been looking delighted by these invitations, now seemed worried. “I’m not sure,” he said, biting his lip. “They can be a bit weird, my parents.”

  Mack laughed. “Don’t worry, Liam. I do weird—ask anyone in Hescombe. I’m sure we’ll get on like an imp on fire.”

  Mack led the boys out of the house, leaving Connie to the now-cold supper. In the silence as she ate, Connie let her thoughts stray to the hilltop. Had the fire really been an accident? She caught a whisper of a slinking presence and tasted sulfur at the back of her throat. It felt uncannily like the creature from the moor.

  She got up to scrape the plates, trying to shake off the instinct that she was under threat. Whatever had started the fire, water was putting an end to the imps’ party; their cries were rising up in indignant hisses as they were doused by hoses. Their fragile bodies of flames were snuffed out, leaving their spirits to wander on the wind until the next blaze ignited.

  What did it mean, all this about Liam and the revelation of his gift? She had known the moment he had spoken, just as she had sensed Simon’s bond with the mysterious creature of the moor. And then there was the baby in her aunt’s womb. Her ability for divining the gifts of others was becoming more acute with each passing day. Not only could she now sense the presence of mythical creatures, Connie was coming to know their human companions, like an antenna buzzing with the transmissions of many radio stations. But the gift came at a price. As she spent so much of her time resonating to the presence of others, it threatened to squeeze out her own sense of self.

  Connie thought back over her nights of disturbed sleep. If only she had the ability to tune out Kullervo’s wavelength, perhaps then this gift would be more bearable, but there seemed no prospect of being able to do this. His presence was a current that flowed under all the others, wearing her down, ingrained in her so deeply that she could not hope to block it out any more than she could turn the tide.

  3

  Devil’s Tooth

  Connie spooned the chocolate-coated froth off the top of her cappuccino, savoring the milky sweetness on her tongue. Anneena was bent over a pad, comparing notes with Jane after their session in the Chartmouth library. Outside the air-conditioned coffee shop, the weather was cloudy but still hot and dry. A woman walked past with an elegant poodle mincing along at her high heels. Catching sight of Connie in the window, the poodle barked a greeting. Connie raised her little finger in a tiny wave.

  “Now, this is really interesting.” Anneena’s voice broke into Connie’s daydream. “There’s an article on local wildlife in this drought. It says that many animals are being forced out of their normal habitats to
find food and water. I bet that’s what’s happening to our creature.”

  “Maybe,” said Jane. “It’s been a funny year—hardly any rain since the beginning of July.”

  Taking another sip off her spoon, Connie wondered what the weather giants made of it all. They were particularly angry at the changes brought to the climate by humans. Many of them had already gone over to Kullervo’s side, and he was urging them to take violent action. She wouldn’t put it past them to be withholding the rain on purpose.

  “The writer says the drought’s due to global warming,” continued Anneena, reading off her handwritten notes.

  “Maybe,” said Jane again. “But no one knows anything for sure. You should hear Dad on the subject.”

  “I don’t really think there’s any doubt that we’re doing the damage,” Connie said quietly, remembering what the mythical creatures had told her over the years.

  “But no one’s sure how much and how fast,” Jane explained. “It really worries me.”

  Anneena flipped her notebook closed. “Me, too. What about companies like Axoil pumping out all those greenhouse gases? They won’t change unless someone makes them.”

  “True,” said Jane, watching the cars growl by. “But the rest of us don’t live completely green lives, either. I feel like a fraud most of the time.”

  Connie grimaced. She knew what Jane meant. It was easy to go on about the environment but much harder to do anything about it.

  “So what else have we learned about the beast of the moor?” Anneena asked, changing the subject. “I’ve got a list here of recent sightings and attacks.”

  Jane pulled out a map, opened it up on the table, and pointed to each location. “The pattern before July seemed fairly random and wide-ranging. But just before our sighting, there was a report from a mile further on the moor of a dark brown, cat-like creature on the road—only seen in headlights and gone before the witness could get a second look.”

  Anneena craned her head over the map. “The plantation is the only place to hide in that area. It might well be living there for the moment. Why don’t we keep watch for a few evenings to see if we can spot it moving around?”