Oracles of Delphi Keep (8 page)

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Authors: Victoria Laurie

BOOK: Oracles of Delphi Keep
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“Yes, ma’am,” he said, glad to be put to use.

“I can help with that too,” Theo offered.

“Very well,” said Madam Dimbleby; then, turning to her cousin, she said, “Gertrude, gather all the children and take them to the west tower. It’s the highest point and you can lock the door from the inside.” Ian thought that the stairway leading up to the west tower might also be too narrow for the beast to navigate. It was barely wide enough for the adults to walk up.

“It’ll be a tight fit up there with all thirty-two of us,”
remarked Madam Scargill as she wrung her hands on the skirt of her dress. “The east tower has more room.”

“Yes, but the children are frightened of that room. Best not to unsettle them any more than is necessary, Gertie. Do what you can to fit them all in, will you?”

Madam Scargill nodded, then caught her cousin by the arm. “You’ll be right up, won’t you, Maggie?”

Madam Dimbleby patted her cousin’s hand and said, “Of course, of course. If things get sticky down here, we’ll be right behind you.” Turning to Carl, she instructed, “Master Lawson, should that beast look like it might get inside, do not hesitate to make your way through the parlor and over to that door on the right.” She turned him slightly and pointed to the door. “It leads to the west tower, where the other children will be hiding.”

Carl nodded smartly, then dragged a nearby chair to the door so that he could stand level with the spy hole and watch for the beast.

Madam Scargill then turned to the group of shivering and frightened orphans and began issuing orders. “All right then, children, we are to proceed to the west tower in an orderly fashion. You lot, Catherine, Lizzy, and Judith, take the little ones up first. And make sure Harry doesn’t hide behind the curtains again. Robert, go fetch Searle from his dormitory You tell him to come down here and help you to gather up the next group of children for the tower room. And make sure you tell him not to dawdle. He’s to report down here immediately or have me to answer to!”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Robert, and he dashed off in the direction of the west wing boys’ dormitory.

Madam Scargill then turned to another group and barked, “Howard, Angela, you come with me. We’re going to collect some pillows and blankets from the east wing dormitories and the linen closet so that the younger children can get some sleep. Oh, goodness, it’s well past their bed-times as it is!” Madam Scargill swept out of the room with Howard and Angela hot on her heels.

Madam Dimbleby turned back to Ian and Theo and said, “Let’s get to bolting those shutters and securing the doors.”

While all the other orphans hurried up to the west tower, Madam Dimbleby, Ian, and Theo ran about the keep, securing the shutters and latching all the windows, then checked the bolts on the two remaining doors, one at the kitchen and the other off the headmistresses’ study to the right of the front stairs. They all met back in the sitting room just as Madam Scargill was disappearing up the west tower steps, her arms loaded with pillows and blankets. “Our turn,” said Madam Dimbleby as she waved the children ahead toward the door. Ian heard her give another warning to Carl to scuttle upstairs at the first sign of trouble; then, as they reached the door to the tower, Theo suddenly stopped in her tracks and let out a loud gasp. “Oh, no!” she said.

“What is it?” Madam Dimbleby asked.

Theo turned to the headmistress, her eyes wide in alarm. “The laundry room! Madam, that door’s always unlocked!”

Ian’s heart felt like it skipped several beats. The laundry room was down in the cellar, and the door leading in from the outside was never bolted. But worse still was that although it was a sturdy door, it was easy for even the smallest of the children to push open. All the beast had to do to enter
the keep was find the stairway at the back of the building, make its way down the steps, and push against the door.

Madam Dimbleby’s face drained of color, but she tried to sound calm. “Right,” she said, swallowing hard before attempting a rather forced smile when she realized that Ian and Theo were waiting for her to give them some direction. “You two hurry on upstairs. I’ll go to the cellar, bolt the door, and be back up in a jiffy.”

“I’ll come with you,” Ian said firmly. He could see the fear all over Madam Dimbleby’s face, and he didn’t want her to have to go down into the cellar alone.

“Thank you, Ian,” she said with a faint smile, “but it’s not safe. You should go up with the rest of the children.”

“But, Madam,” Ian persisted, “remember how tricky that latch can be? I really think you might need help with it.” The latch was indeed difficult to secure, but more important, Ian had noticed how badly Madam’s hands were shaking and his heart went out to her.

Madam seemed to catch Ian’s subtle glance toward her trembling hands, and she quickly tried to cover them by smoothing out her skirt. “Very well, Master Wigby,” she said after a pause to compose herself. “Theo, up you go. Ian, come along.”

Ian gave Theo a pat on her shoulder as she stood in the doorway of the tower staircase. “I’ll be right up,” he said reassuringly, but her frightened eyes bothered him.

“Hurry!” she whispered, and he left her and trotted after the headmistress.

The pair walked quickly through the kitchen to the door leading to the cellar but Madam Dimbleby hesitated ever so
slightly before opening it. “If there’s any nasty business down there,” she said in a deadly serious tone, “I want you to get out of the cellar as fast as you can, and throw the lock behind you whether I’m with you or not.”

Ian’s eyes widened and he was about to protest when she leaned her face close to his and said, “I’m not joking, Ian. You must promise me this or you’ll not come down with me.”

He frowned but finally nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” he said to her, even though he had no intention of leaving her behind, promise or no promise.

Madam Dimbleby seemed satisfied and she took a deep breath before opening the door a crack, then put her ear close and listened. Ian also strained his ears, but no sound came from the cellar.

Madam Dimbleby took another big breath and pulled the door open wide before reaching for the light switch and turning it on. A dim glow illuminated the stairwell, casting the space into an eerie gloom. Cautiously, the headmistress stepped onto the first stair, then the second, and Ian followed closely behind. He noticed that the headmistress would walk down two or three stairs, stop, listen, then continue for another two or three steps.

In this manner they made their way to the bottom without incident and Ian let go of the breath he’d been holding for the last few steps. Madam Dimbleby then turned to the right and squinted into the poorly lit area of the large cellar.

The door leading in from the outside was at the other end of the chilly room. “Let’s get to it, then,” the headmistress whispered, and she quickly picked her way through the clutter littering the floor, working toward the door with
Ian again close behind her until he saw something out the corner of his eye. He abruptly stopped and rested a hand on Madam’s arm while he slowly turned his face toward the window above the cellar sink, and the most awful feeling of dread chilled him to the bone.

He felt Madam Dimbleby’s eyes land on him, then shift to where he was looking, and he heard her gasp when she too spotted four giant paws passing in front of the small window. The beast was just outside. “It’s right there!” he whispered. “Which means it’s likely heading to the stairwell!”

Madam Dimbleby audibly gulped. The window was just to the right of the outside stairwell leading down to the entrance of the cellar. The beast might already have made it down the staircase and could be pressing its way inside in the next second!

Ian and Madam Dimbleby were a meter or two away from the door. “Stay here,” she whispered to him, and she bravely tiptoed forward, edging closer to her target.

But Ian saw her come up short as they both heard something like a snarl from just outside. The beast was close. Again Madam Dimbleby edged forward while Ian willed her to hurry. He was rooted to his spot with the terrible fear that she wouldn’t get there in time. The door was closed, but one good nudge from the giant beast would surely open it.

Madam Dimbleby took one step, two steps, three steps … and another snarl reverberated from outside, only this one sounded like it was near the bottom of the staircase.

Ian could see Madam Dimbleby trembling as she picked her foot up to take a step but caught an old chair piled with broken toys. The chair and toys tipped over with a loud
clatter. The headmistress froze, and Ian could feel his heart thumping so fiercely he thought it might be visible through his shirt. The snarl from outside became a growl as loud as a motor. Worse yet, the growl grew closer, and in an instant a large black snout appeared in the small opening at the bottom of the door and the beast took a good long sniff through the crack.

Ian looked at Madam Dimbleby, who stood as still as a statue. “Madam!” Ian whispered. “The latch! You need to throw the latch!”

But Madam remained unmoving. Ian couldn’t see her face, but he knew it was likely frozen in terror. He tried again to call out to her. “Madam, you’re so close! Just throw the latch!”

Another loud sniff moved the dust around the crack at the bottom of the door. Madam Dimbleby still hadn’t moved. And then the nose sniffing about seemed to catch their scent. Through the crack Ian saw the black snout inch over to the right, near where they were standing, petrified. The beast took several short whiffs of air right before a deadly growl rumbled along the pavement, and Ian knew he had less than an instant to act.

Quick as a flash, he shot forward, past Madam Dimbleby, running at the door with single-minded determination. When he was one meter from it, the beast’s snout disappeared from the crack and two thumps sounded on the wood frame. To add to the horror, the door began to open, exposing black greasy fur, a huge snout, and one red eye. Ian leapt into the air, throwing all his weight against the door, and managed to slam it. With shaking fingers he reached for the latch, but it was very old and rusty and wouldn’t easily move.

Just beyond the door rose a howl that turned his blood to ice. It was a horrible sound and it rang in his ears like a terrible nightmare, and then two more thumps echoed through the paneling and sent Ian springing backward as the beast threw its weight against the door.

He fell into Madam Dimbleby just as she must have leapt forward to help him. Luckily, her momentum launched him back into the door. “Get the latch!” she yelled directly into his ear. “Ian! Throw the latch while I push the door closed!”

Ian fought the panic spreading along his limbs as he and Madam Dimbleby pushed the door with all their might, closing it bit by bit. He leaned every ounce of his weight into the hard wood while reaching up to grasp the latch. His sweating palms and shaking fingers made pulling on the metal plate nearly impossible as he frantically fought to secure it before he and the headmistress lost their edge over the beast. Out-side, the creature snarled and growled and the door shook as the thing dug its great claws into the wood.

With another snarl the beast thumped the door again, and to Ian’s horror, he and Madam Dimbleby began to slide backward along the cement floor. “I can’t hold it!” Madam Dimbleby shouted. “Ian, you’ve got to run!”

“No!” he groaned, locking his knees and straining with every ounce of strength he had. “We can do it, ma’am!
Push!”
But the beast had other ideas, and it thumped against the wood yet again. Ian and Madam were pushed back even more. The door was now open several inches and Ian could no longer reach the latch.

Refusing to give up, he twisted his body around, trying
desperately to gain purchase on the slippery floor, and gritting his teeth, he pushed with everything he had against the great hulking weight of the creature on the other side. He tried to ignore the smell of sulfur and rotten meat filling his nostrils and making his stomach lurch, as well as the grumbling growl that made the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up. Ian saw a giant paw with nails as thick and sharp as spikes curl around the lip of the entry, and he knew that both he and Madam were likely seconds away from death.

Just when his legs began to shake from the strain and his arms began to slip down the door, there was a rush of wind from behind him, followed by a whump right next to him. The door edged closer to the frame and a small grunt came from his side. Craning his neck to look over his shoulder, he saw Carl, his face turning red with his efforts to help close the door. Then something else crashed hard into Ian’s back and he was propelled slightly forward. He felt little hands pushing on his shoulders and he knew without seeing that Theo was pressing her small frame into his as she joined their fight. With tremendous effort they struggled and pushed and groaned and gained ground. “Quickly!” yelled Carl, his voice tight with strain. “We’ve got to close it
now
!”

It was all the encouragement they needed. In one great effort the four gave a tremendous shove and the door banged shut. Ian grabbed the latch with both hands and heaved it closed. With a screech of rusted metal, it clanged home and everyone let go of the door, exhausted and shaking in fear.

The beast gave an angry howl and thumped its paws
against the wood, making the door shudder on its hinges. The four of them quickly backed away and scurried toward the stairs. “Hurry, children!” said Madam Dimbleby, gasping for breath. “We must get upstairs and lock the cellar door from the kitchen in case the beast is able to break through this one!”

The four scrambled up the stairs, Ian closely following Theo and Carl. He looked behind him as he dashed up the steps and saw Madam Dimbleby hurrying as best she could, her breathing labored and her face flushed bright red. As he cleared the last stair, Ian turned around, reached out his hand to her, and pulled her up the last few steps and into the kitchen before Carl slammed the door to the cellar and threw the latch. Next he hit the light switch, and the kitchen was enveloped in murky darkness. They all paused for a moment, taking great gulps of air and keeping away from the shuttered windows. Every muscle in Ian’s body felt weak and rubbery. Madam Dimbleby looked ready to topple over, and Ian was relieved when a watchful Carl pulled a stool from the corner over to the headmistress so that she could sit down.

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