Spirits and Spells (10 page)

They heard a slurping noise, and Derek could see that the creature was pulling against the door with its whole body, which seemed to function like a gigantic suction cup. “Come on!” he cried. “Come on! You can do it!”

The creature's body was expanding and contracting like the throat of a gigantic toad. Throbbing veins rose up all across its back. A low groan issued from its throat.

Still the door wouldn't open.

Finally the wall itself began to crumble. As great chunks of plaster pulled away, the creature lost its hold and tumbled to the floor. Two of its tentacles still extended to the top of the door, it lay gasping and choking, its body trembling with exhaustion.

“No use,” it gasped at last. “The door is sealed by magic.”

A pained silence settled over them. Derek stared at the floor.

“Denise,” said the creature after a moment. “Would you help me? I'm stuck.”

When Denise realized what the creature meant, she said, “Oh, sure. Derek, give me a hand.”

“What?”

“I said give me a hand. Its tentacles are stuck.”

Numbly Derek crossed to the door and bent down. Cupping his hands in front of him, he gave Denise a boost up.

The tentacle was disgusting. She had seen a dead rat once, beside a gutter. It was wet and soggy looking. For some reason the tentacle reminded her of that. It was the same thickness, and when she closed her hand about it, it felt just as she had always imagined the rat would have if she had picked it up. She flinched back.

“Please,” said the creature softly. “I'm in pain.”

Denise nodded. Setting her jaw, she grabbed the tentacle firmly in one hand. Pulling it away from the door, she was amazed at how the creature had been able to stretch and thin it in order to insert it over the top. With her other hand, she pinched the flesh just outside the wood.

“Ow!”

“I'm sorry. But I can't see any other way to get you loose!”

“It's all right. Go ahead.”

She pulled.

Nothing happened. The tentacle was stuck tight.

She pulled again, harder. The tentacle stretched and thinned even more. The glow of the flashlight showed right through the flesh.

What would happen if the tentacle broke?

“Keep trying!” cried the creature.

Pinching tighter, in the desperate hope that it might somehow help keep the tentacle from breaking, she gave a last yank. The tentacle pulled free from the door. She dropped it, and it fell to the floor with a splatting sound.

“Thank you,” sighed the creature. “Now the other one.”

Denise repeated the process, then leaped down.

“Now,” said the creature, “we have to figure out what to do about your friend.”

Derek looked at him with sudden hope. “Do you really think—” He was interrupted by the closet door swinging open. “Jenny!” he cried joyfully.

She stepped out of the closet, holding a polished wooden rod that was capped by a ball of smoky crystal. Lights played inside the crystal, dancing across its surface.

Jenny herself was stern and erect, looking at her friends as if she were a queen and they mere commoners.

“Jenny?” asked Derek, his voice now puzzled, worried.

She turned toward him.

“My name,” she said, her voice and her eyes as cold as ice, “is Gwynhafra.”

14

RATS

“My bones!” cried Charity. “Oh, miss, you found my bones! How clever you are!”

“Clever,” said Tansy weakly as she stared in horror at the pieces of smoke-darkened skeleton that had come clattering out of the chimney.

Matt still stood on the chair, clutching the golden arm band and staring down at them in astonishment.

“But it's not happening,” moaned Charity. “Oh, it's not working!”

She began to sob.

“What's wrong?” asked Tansy. “
What's
not working?”

“I thought that once I found my bones, I would just fade away,” sniffed Charity. “But it's not working. I'm still here! I'm trapped for all eternity!” She let out a screech that made Tansy wonder if her family had mingled with some banshee back in the Old Country.

“Perhaps they just need to be buried,” said Tansy sympathetically.

Charity gasped. “You must be right! Will you bury them for me, miss?”

“If we ever get out of this place, I'll be glad to,” said Tansy. She turned to Matt. “Help me gather up these bones.”

“What?”

“We've got to bury them.”

“Tansy …”

“Matt, just get a box or something and be quiet, will you? She found where the ring was, didn't she? The least we can do is help her out.”

Matt sighed and rummaged in the piles against the wall until he found a suitable box. He dumped the contents without looking at them and returned to Tansy. “Here you go.”

“Help me put in the bones,” she replied.

He started to protest. But when she knelt and began scooping the old bones into the box, he simply sighed and joined her.

Tansy shuddered when she picked up the first handful. They were smooth and ivory-colored, and she couldn't help but think that they had once been inside a living person; inside Charity. It felt disrespectful to be grabbing them so helter-skelter. But they had no time for ceremony. She was gathering some smaller bones—finger bones, she was pretty sure—when she stopped and clutched Matt's arm. “Did you hear that?”

“What? Did Charity say something? You know I can't—”

Tansy cut him off impatiently. “No, it wasn't Charity. It was a different voice, more like—”

She broke off and looked past him into the darkness. The voice was calling again. It seemed to come from someplace far away, and to be in desperate need.

Tansy
, it called.
Tansy, let me come back. It's been so long. Let me come back!
There was a pause. Then the voice said,
Theoni. Let me in. Please
.

“I can hear it, miss!” cried Charity. “It's someone calling your name. And then she called you Theoni.”

“That's my name in the … in the game,” said Tansy. “Come on, Matt. Let's hurry.”

But now Matt was staring off into the distance. “Wathek is returning!” he whispered. “He has to come back!”

Tansy looked at him for a moment. He seemed to have gone into a trance. She shook him violently. “Matt! Matt, don't listen to them!
I
need you!”

Matt shook his head, once lightly and a second time more violently, as if trying to fling something away from him. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, then nodded. Without another word he and Tansy scooped the rest of the bones into the box.

But when they stood to go, they both cried out in horror.

The path back to the door was blocked by a pack of rats. There were nine of them, each as big as a raccoon. Even worse than their size were their eyes—red, beady, and seeming to have enough intelligence to be consciously evil.

Tansy's throat was dry, and she felt a cramp of fear in the pit of her stomach. The rat pack was restless. They were shuffling, and their noses twitched ceaselessly as they evaluated the smell of the two teenagers.

“Tansy …” said Matt.

The pack moved forward.

Matt and Tansy stepped back.

“Begging your pardon, miss,” said Charity. “Don't you think—”

She was interrupted by a cry from Matt as one of the rats leaped forward and sank its teeth into his thigh.

“Get it off me!” he pleaded, writhing in pain.

The other rats surged forward. Tansy jumped back, stumbled, and fell. For a horrible moment she was lost under a crush of squirming, furry bodies. She began to scream as teeth tore at her arms and legs.

“Your spell, miss!” shrieked Charity. “Use your spell!”

It was instinctive this time. Without thought, without effort, Tansy thrust her hands forward and blasted freezing cold through her fingers.

The first rat she touched froze solid and slammed lifelessly to the floor. Swinging her arms frantically, she dispatched four more rats in a matter of seconds.

Squealing and chittering, the remaining rats withdrew into a half circle, where they stared hungrily at the two teenagers.

With a groan Matt staggered to his feet. He was torn and bleeding in a dozen places. Tansy had fared little better. The whole episode had not taken more than ten seconds, but she, too, had been wounded by the rats' fangs. Blood matted in her hair, and the back of her head ached where it had slammed against the floor.

Charity's bones were scattered in a wide circle.

“Fire should finish them off,” said Matt grimly, raising his hands.

“No!” cried Tansy. “Use your flames here, and you're apt to set the whole house on fire. We'll probably get caught and burn to death ourselves. I'll have to use the frost. It's not as bad this time—I didn't get so tired.”

Even as she spoke she swayed and almost fell to the floor.

“That's from the bites,” she said quickly. “Not from using the spell.”

The rats were eyeing them warily. Tansy raised her hands and aimed a blast of frost at the nearest. It squealed and sprang aside. An icy spot formed on the floor, but the rat was safe.

“They've gotten smarter, miss,” said Charity.

Tansy tried again, targeting the same rat. But he leaped aside even as she aimed, and once more she missed. Furious now, she blasted out several shots of frost. Squealing with terror, the rats turned and fled into the darkness.

“That's done it, miss!” cheered Charity. “Good for you!”

Tansy staggered and leaned against Matt for support.

“Let's get out of here,” he said.

“My bones!” cried Charity. “You can't leave my bones!”

Tansy stopped.

“Tansy!” cried Matt. “For heaven's sake, we can't—”

“We can't leave them, Matt,” she replied. Though her voice was weak, it was firm. She knelt and began to gather the scattered skeleton.

“Keep watch, Charity,” snapped Matt. “If they start coming back, you tell Tansy. You understand me?”

The ghost nodded meekly.

Glancing about nervously, Matt knelt to help Tansy regather the bones.

“Now my head,” said Charity, once they had them all.

“What?” cried Tansy.

“My head. We'll have to bury my head, too. You know where it is.”

“What does she want now?” asked Matt anxiously.

“I have to get another box on the way out,” said Tansy, deciding to skip the details.

Muttering angrily, Matt hoisted the box of bones, and they started forward again. This time he was the one who stopped. “Did you hear that?” he whispered. “They're coming back.”

The rustling died.

Matt and Tansy stood still, waiting for the rats to reappear.

Nothing happened.

They began to walk again.

“Behind you, miss!” cried Charity.

Tansy spun and spotted a rat slinking after them. She raised her hands. The rat dodged, but this time it was too slow. The blast of frost struck it in the hind-quarters. It crashed to the floor, its back legs frozen and useless.

Though Tansy had no pity for it, the pained squeals it made as it used its front paws to drag itself across the floor turned her stomach.

“Nice work,” said Matt. “Three left.”

“If that first pack was all of them,” replied Tansy.

They moved forward again. Tansy had a terrible urge to break and run. But she felt certain that if she did, the pack would leap out and catch them before they could use their spells. This slow, careful walking was excruciating, but seemed safer.

They passed the nightstand, and Tansy picked up the box that held Charity's severed head.

They neither saw nor heard the rats again until they had nearly reached the door.

Then the rustling started once more.

“Here they come,” said Matt nervously.

Tansy jumped when she saw a dark shape scurry over a pile of boxes. It was followed by another, and then two more.

“Well, there's more than three of them,” she said grimly.

Matt nodded, and they continued forward.

The rustling grew louder. Tansy tucked the box under one arm and wiped a hand across her brow to stop the blood from running into her eyes. She saw another shape to her left.

“There's one behind you again, miss,” warned Charity.

Tansy swung about. The rat was several paces back.

It was not moving. Another came to crouch beside it. The two creatures glared angrily at her.

Suddenly Tansy realized that they were being herded by the rats, like sheep into a pen.

“Matt, they're all around us.”

He nodded. “I know. We'll just have to keep moving.”

His face was white, and Tansy suddenly feared that he might not make it to the door. She realized that his shirt was soaked with blood, as was the right leg of his jeans. She had the feeling that the only thing keeping him from falling to the floor in a dead faint was sheer willpower.

“Hold on, pal,” she said softly. “We'll get out of this somehow.”

“Yeah,” he said. “You bet.”

They moved forward again, but when they finally spotted the door, Tansy's heart plummeted.

It was blocked by dozens of rats, all of them ready to pounce.

Tansy could see the muscles bunching in the rats' shoulders as they tensed themselves to attack.

“Take the box,” whispered Matt.

She turned toward him and placed the wooden box that held Charity's head on top of the box with her bones. Then she took them both back from Matt.

“Hold on,” he whispered, raising his hands to shoulder level.

The rats began to stir.

“Okay, watch this!”

Even as he spoke, the rats pounced. But they had waited too long. Fire erupted all around them. A horrible squealing filled the attic as the terrified rodents scrambled to escape the leaping flames. Turning in a rapid circle, Matt continued to gesture, making sure that the circle of flame was complete, that all the rats had fled.