The Bonehill Curse (9 page)

He must have seen me
, she thought, hurrying along the street.
He looked right at me.

Something clinked in her sack as she bustled through the crowd. She stopped and frowned, opening it. A few pennies lay nestled next to the slab of bread Suha had put in. Ness shook her head. She didn’t think Jabalah or Suha could afford to give away money but she could hardly refuse it.
Why are they so generous when they’re clearly so poor?
Ness wondered.
I’ll repay them when I find Mama and Father
.

Checking the drivers closely, Ness approached a cab stand and soon found herself rattling towards Gladwell Gardens.

Henry Lumm’s house was grand and imposing. Black railings stood as sharp sentries along the front of the white stone building. The windows frowned out at Ness, daring her to set one foot on the steps that swept up to the shiny, black front door. Ness glanced around her. Her grubby skirt and stained jacket stood out in this street full of smart carriages and silken-clad ladies twirling parasols against the feeble spring sunshine.

Lumm was a friend of her father’s but Ness had no real memories of him. Now she stood at his front door about to throw herself on his mercy. Would he even believe her? What if he thought she was dead too? Ness drew a deep breath. There was nothing for it but to knock.

Clambering up the steps, Ness paused. The front door stood slightly ajar. Perhaps the last visitor had forgotten to shut it on their way out.

‘Hello?’ she called, pushing on the heavy door. It creaked ominously, making Ness catch her breath.

The smell of polish and the ticking of a huge grandfather clock reassured Ness as she poked her head around the door. Her boots clicked on the woodblock floor as she glanced about. Doors stood to her left and right. A richly carpeted stairway led up into a shadowy landing. The hall lay deserted but a brass bell sat on a squat mahogany table. Stepping in, Ness closed the door behind her and rang the bell.

The ring sounded shrill and far too loud in the quiet house, making her wince. She waited, twisting her fingers nervously.
Where is everyone?
Surely Henry Lumm would have an army of staff, judging by his house. Ness wanted to call out again but the thought of her voice drifting up into the seemingly empty house stopped her. She pushed open the side door to her left and peered into the room.

It was a study of some kind. Books lined the shelves and a huge globe stood in the middle of the room. With a jolt, she realised that a figure sat with their back to Ness.

‘Excuse me,’ Ness began as she edged over to the figure. ‘I’m sorry for the intrusion but the door was open.’

The figure didn’t turn around. Ness could see a shiny scalp through thinning grey hair as she approached.

She spoke again. ‘I hope you don’t mind. I was looking for . . .’

Ness couldn’t finish her sentence. The sight of the chair’s occupant stole the words from her mouth. A burly man with a walrus moustache sat staring into space. His skin was grey, the rims of his eyes red. A look of sheer terror twisted his face and a single line of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

There was no doubt in Ness’s mind that Henry Lumm was dead and that he had met a violent end.

Because we kept an eye on the snake
,
we forgot the s
c
orpion.

T
raditional proverb

Chapter Twelve

W
hispers of the
D
ead

One hand still held a pen. Ink leeched into the blotter on which it rested and pooled across the lacquered surface of the desk.

Ness felt cold, her heart thundered against her ribs.
I should get help
, she thought, but she stood immobile, her hands clutched together.

Her eyes were drawn to a half-written letter that lay pinned under Henry Lumm’s other hand.

My dearest Olwen,

I fear our past has caught up with us. Grossford is dead. Bonehill and his wife are missing. The fiend is out, I’m sure of it. Hide yourself. Use whatever defences you have. Be certain that he will come for us all . . .

Ness’s head pounded.
The fiend? Did he mean the djinn?
An envelope lay next to the letter with an address.

Mrs Olwen Quilfy, 4 Badenock Terrace, Kensington, London.

With a grimace, Ness snatched up the letter and envelope. Maybe this Quilfy woman would have some answers. She clearly knew something more than Ness did. Ness turned to go but stopped.
I can’t just leave
, she thought, glancing back at Lumm. Every fibre of her body wanted to run headlong out of the house but surely the alarm should be raised.

The house lay silent. Was there anyone about? Ness tiptoed out across the hall and clambered up the first few steps of the staircase.

‘Hello?’ she called to the rooms upstairs. Her voice sounded weak and her throat felt dry. ‘Is there anybody there?’

Nothing.

Ness bit her lip. She glanced down the hall to where a door stood ajar. Steps led down to the kitchen. The smell of carbolic soap and cooking replaced the polish and cigar smoke of the upper floor as Ness descended the whitewashed steps.

She peered into the scrubbed kitchen. A tap dripped, the sound deafening in the quiet. The small room looked unremarkable, with its red tiled floor, a sink and a blacked range built into the chimney breast. But a woman lay collapsed over the bleached wooden table. She wore an apron and mob cap, clearly the cook. Ness gave a gasp. The woman’s red-rimmed eyes stared blankly across the room. She was dead. Boils covered her skin. Her hair hung down under the cap, plastered to her blue-tinged face.

Glancing over her shoulder, Ness could see another body sprawled across the floor into the tiny pantry. A striped trouser leg and shiny boot told her it was a butler or footman of some description. She glimpsed more ulcerated flesh.

Images of Mollie, Sarah and Hannah gasping for breath fought their way into Ness’s mind. She remembered them wheezing as the sweat drenched their nightclothes. Shaking her head, Ness stumbled back out of the kitchen. No one in this house could help her. She turned and scurried up the steps, her feet sounding like thunder in the deathly hush.

A crash from the kitchen below brought Ness skidding to a halt on the cool tiles of the hall. At the same time a movement from Lumm’s study caught her eye. Something had lurched from her field of vision.

Lumm’s chair was empty. A shadow shifted from behind the half-closed door.

With a cry, Ness threw herself at the front door. Her fingers felt like rubber as she fumbled at the door latch.

A long, groaning breath hissed out of Lumm’s study followed by a heavy footfall. Below, a chair scraped across the tiles as if someone was standing up.

She freed the latch and the door swung open. Ness gave a gasp as the cool air outside struck her. But everything began to blur and fade into blackness. Azuli’s face swam before her. A flash of flame dazzled her eyes and then she felt weightless and knew nothing more.

Darkness crushed in on Ness. It made no difference whether her eyes were open or closed. She tried to reach out into the black void that surrounded her but her arms were pinned by her sides. It felt like a band of metal constricted her limbs and body. An icy cold seeped into the marrow of her bones.

‘Imagine,’ a voice whispered in her ear, ‘being trapped like this for a week.’ It was the djinn’s voice.

Ness’s heart pounded. She wriggled and twisted but could not move an inch.

‘Where are you?’ Ness cried out. ‘Let me see you.’

‘Imagine being trapped for a month. A year. A hundred years. A thousand!’ the djinn hissed. ‘Sealed for ever in a cold metal tomb. Why? Because I didn’t bend my knee to the tyrant Sulayman.’

‘What’s that got to do with me? Where are my parents? Why are you doing this?’ Ness’s voice screamed into the pitch black.

‘They are safe. For now. Do you think your parents love you yet?’ the djinn mocked her.

‘I . . . don’t know,’ Ness muttered.

‘Do you love them?’ the djinn sneered.

‘I’m not sure,’ Ness hissed. ‘Why do you take so much pleasure in tormenting me?’

‘Because it’s what I’m used to, Necessity,’ the djinn replied. ‘I think you do love your parents. Why else would you rush all over London looking for them? That’s going to make it so hard. At the end, I mean.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Ness wailed.

‘Do you really think those Lashkars can help you find them? A bunch of decrepit old men? Beware of them, Necessity,’ the djinn said, ignoring her comment.

‘Why don’t you just leave me alone?’ Ness sobbed.

‘Now
that
would have been a half-decent wish,’ the djinn cackled. ‘But you wanted your parents to love you instead. You have, I believe, five days left.’

The djinn’s laughter rang in Ness’s ears as she tried unsuccessfully to kick out at the darkness that enveloped her. She tossed and turned, her body becoming freer, light seeping into her vision. Gradually the hard metal casing that surrounded her softened and became more yielding until she felt bedclothes wrapping her.

With a start she sat up. Ness was in Suha’s room.

Suha sat staring from the side of the bed, her hands holding Ness’s shoulders. ‘It is all right,’ she said. ‘You are safe.’

Ness fell back on to her pillows and blew out a sigh of relief. ‘I dreamt of the djinn, of being trapped in a bottle. It was so real.’

Suha smoothed the hair from Ness’s face. ‘It was only a dream. You are safe now,’ she said. ‘You gave Azuli the slip but he knew where you were going. A good thing too, by the sounds of it. Azuli saved you. Another minute and you would have been . . .’ Suha looked away and shook her head.

‘Would have been what?’ Ness asked, frowning.

‘The djinn’s strength is growing,’ Suha murmured, avoiding Ness’s gaze. ‘It brings a deadly plague.’

‘A plague?’ Ness whispered, thinking of the girls at the Academy and the servants at Lumm’s house.

‘Death comes quickly but painfully,’ Suha said. ‘But it is more than just a plague. Once the poor souls have perished from the disease, their bodies become the instruments of the djinn. They rise again as his slaves. We Lashkars call them Pestilents.’

Ness threw her hand to her mouth. ‘Lumm moved from his seat while I was there,’ she gasped. ‘But he was dead. I saw him with my own eyes.’

‘He has become a Pestilent then,’ Suha sighed, shaking her head. ‘A living dead thing mindlessly following the djinn’s commands.’

‘That’s horrible,’ Ness whispered. ‘This djinn must be truly evil to use people so.’

‘Thankfully Azuli got you away in time,’ Suha said, giving a tight smile.

‘He won’t let me forget that in a hurry,’ Ness muttered, rubbing her eyes. She should be grateful but instead her stomach churned and she gritted her teeth. Why couldn’t it have been Jabalah or one of the older Lashkars? ‘Where is he now?’

‘Azuli was taken to Hafid almost as soon as he arrived back with you. They have been arguing ever since.’

‘About the djinn?’

‘About that, and you,’ Suha said.

‘Me?’

‘About what to do with you.’

A feeble tapping on the door stopped Ness from questioning Suha further. Hafid leaned against the door frame, wheezing as if the effort of standing was too much, let alone moving. He stared blindly into the room.
How does he find his way around?
Ness wondered.

‘Forgive my intrusion,’ he said in his thin reedy voice. ‘We require your presence, Miss Bonehill. We must decide the best course of action.’

‘I’ve told you I must find my parents,’ Ness said with frustration. ‘I haven’t time to talk.’

‘I think you’ll find that you have no choice,’ Hafid sighed and shook his head. ‘And as for searching for your parents, you won’t be going anywhere.’

Wait for luck and wait for death.

T
raditional proverb

Chapter Thirteen

B
ait in a
T
rap

‘What do you mean, not going anywhere?’ Ness glared at Hafid.

‘If you come now then you will find out.’ Hafid looked sombre and Ness gave a growl of indignation as she clambered off the bed. Hafid tilted his head towards Ness, listening to her movements. ‘You rise quickly for one who has had such a shock, Miss Bonehill.’

‘I feel much better,’ Ness admitted. It was true – apart from a slightly stiff neck she felt fine.

‘Then you will be well enough to present your concerns personally,’ Hafid murmured.

Ness pulled on her old jacket and followed Hafid as he shuffled out into the alleyways.

‘A new day,’ Ness muttered to herself.
The third day. Four more to go until I lose everything. But what have I got left to lose?