The Lunatic's Curse (20 page)

‘Then let us look for a cell with two beds.’

‘Beds!’ he snorted. ‘You mean two piles of straw.’

So they looked into each cell, Rex feeling increasingly nauseous, but most had two flattened piles of straw rather than one. Rex was unwilling to enter the cells – it was just too
horrible.

But why did Father say he was upstairs? he asked himself. He was trying to protect me, he realized, and his heart burned. All that time he had wasted, trusting Stradigund to help, just waiting,
and meanwhile his father had been kept down here, like some sort of animal. He would never forgive himself for his inaction. And if he ever found Chapelizod he would not be held responsible for what
he might do to him. He felt as if his heart had broken up inside his chest.

‘There’s nothing,’ concluded Hildred, having scattered straw and examined the corners in every cell. ‘Some poor soul was marking off the days in here but it’s
impossible to tell who. We’ll have to look elsewhere.’

Rex had reached the end of the tunnel and was met by a wall of rock. There was a door to his right – solid wood, not barred like the others – but it was closed, and when he tried the
ring-handle he found it was locked.

‘Strange,’ he murmured. ‘It looks as if this door has been rehung. ’ There was grease on his fingers. He felt in his pocket for his picklock but realized he had left it in
his room. Hildred came up behind him.

Suddenly he started and Hildred saw. ‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘Can’t you hear it?’

‘No.’

‘Voices. I think I can hear voices.’ Rex cocked his head and listened intently.

Hildred placed her head against the wall and flattened her hands on the slime-covered, dripping rock.

‘You’re right. There
is
something,’ she said. ‘I can feel it.’

Both listened closely and from the other side of the wall came the unmistakable sound of moaning and wailing. They looked at each other quickly.

‘It’s the ghost,’ said Rex. ‘We must get out of here!’ Without another word the pair turned and ran.

30

Over breakfast the next morning Hildred and Rex exchanged glances, both recalling, with mixed emotions, the events of the previous night: their midnight foray into the depths
of the asylum, the tunnel of cells and of course the wretched groaning.

Breakfast was substantial: porridge (burnt), toasted bread (burnt) and butter (slightly off), an egg (very hard-boiled) and tea (stewed). Rex tucked in ravenously regardless and said not a word
until he had finished. As he drained his mug Mrs Runcible called over from the stove, ‘Don’t drink your leaves! I want to read them!’

After breakfast Mrs Runcible took Hildred away, under instructions from Dr Velhildegildus, to continue the clear-up the breakout had necessitated.

So, thought Rex, Dr Velhildegildus is at least making it
look
as if he might reopen the asylum.

With Hildred otherwise occupied, Rex decided to make a start on the list for the Perambulating Submersible. The thought excited him – he was as keen as Dr Velhildegildus to get to work
– and it took his mind off the disturbing revelations of the previous night. So he returned to his room and settled on the floor to pore over his copy of the plan.

The list of materials and equipment was extensive, but the beauty of the design, as he had explained to Dr Velhildegildus, was that nothing was too complicated. Cost didn’t seem to be an
issue – Tibor had waved his hand in the air dismissively when Rex brought it up – but it did make him wonder just how much a person earned from being the superintendent of an asylum.
After a couple of hours he added the final item, a drum of lubricant, preferably whale oil, and looked it over with great satisfaction and a degree of anticipation. It comprised, among other
things: levers, springs, clamps and nut-spinners; headbolts, deadbolts, mauls and mallets; cogs, leather, grommets and filters; buckles, rods, toggles and tappetshims; jacks, switches, tacks and tin strips; kerosene, tallow and whale oil.

Droprock Island wasn’t quite as pleasant a place to live as Opum Oppidulum, but it had one major advantage: no Acantha. Freed from her pernicious influence, Rex felt more
positive than he had for a long time. To have the opportunity to make the Perambulating Submersible, and perhaps even to pilot it, was like a dream come true. But Rex still didn’t like to
think how Tibor had acquired the plan; he suspected by foul means rather than fair.

The motive was simple enough: money. The Perambulating Submersible was unique. It would be sought after all over the world. Tibor was going to be famous. Rex wasn’t sure how he felt about
this either, but there were more important things to worry about than fame. And as long as Dr Velhildegildus was occupied building the underwater craft then he couldn’t conduct any more
Lodestone interrogations, and in the meantime Rex could investigate the meaning of his father’s cryptic last words.

Did he trust Dr Velhildegildus? ‘Hmm,’ mused Rex. It was an odd thing. When he was in the same room as him, listening to him speak, he believed that he was a man of his word. It was
only afterwards that he was not so sure. But they had a deal and it was to neither’s advantage to break it.

A shadow fell across the page and Rex looked up to see Hildred in the doorway. Startled again by the intensity of her eyes, he wondered if he would ever get used to them.

‘What are you doing?’

Rex quickly folded up the plan. ‘Er, I’m not really supposed to say.’

‘I promise not to look.’

‘I’m finished anyway.’ He picked up the list and Hildred sat down opposite him with her legs tucked neatly under her. Rex could see that her boots were grubby and her
fingernails were black.

‘Did Dr Velhildegildus say anything about when the asylum would be ready again?’ she asked.

Rex laughed. Bearing in mind Dr Velhildegildus’s other priorities, he thought it might be quite some time before they saw any new faces. ‘Are you anxious for more work?’

Hildred shrugged, and it was quite a sight to see. ‘Maybe it’s because I’m not used to the emptiness. When I was with the Panopticon there were people around all the
time.’

‘What about your mother and father?’

‘My mother died in an accident a long time ago, and Father, well, he left the Panopticon after that. I haven’t seen him since. Besides, your father is so much more interesting. Tell
me again about the man with the serpent’s tongue.’

‘Mr Sarpalius,’ recalled Rex. ‘I remember having a drink – I’m sure now that it was drugged – and I fell asleep. The next thing I knew, I was lying beside the
lake. Oh, and I’d hit my head.’ He put his hand up to his skull. The wound was still tender. ‘That’s when Father said he couldn’t take me with him.’

Hildred frowned. ‘But he didn’t want you to stay with Acantha either.’

‘I watched them drag him away,’ said Rex quietly. ‘The doctor said he died from a lung disease, something he caught in the asylum. If he’d never come here he would still
be alive.’ A note of bitterness had crept into his voice. ‘The night he went mad he said he’d found out something about Mr Chapelizod, and that he wasn’t to come to the house
any more. Acantha just watched him, as if she knew what was going to happen, but I can’t prove that she did.’

‘It certainly looks as if she has something to hide,’ said Hildred. She was cracking her knuckles, as she always did when she was thinking.

‘After that Acantha took me to Dr Velhildegildus and he used his Lodestone Procedure on me.’

Hildred’s eyes widened. ‘What on earth’s that?’

‘It’s a sort of interrogation. It’s very hard to resist. Dr Velhildegildus is so persuasive. He has a way of making you say stuff even though you don’t want to.
It’s like a dream – you don’t know what’s real and what’s not.’

‘I doubt he would get anything out of me.’

Rex snorted at Hildred’s confidence. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure. I barely remember what I told him!’

Hildred chewed thoughtfully on her lip. ‘And then he asked you here to help him out? Don’t you think that’s a coincidence?’

‘I suppose so,’ said Rex cagily. ‘He knows I’m a Grammaticus. I’m good at making things, and that’s exactly what he needs, for the asylum, I mean.’

Rex looked at Hildred’s grave expression. She seemed determined, even more so than he, to work out the mystery.

‘What about the book your father gave you?’ she asked.

‘I know all of the stories inside out. My favourite is Daedalus and Icarus – they were stuck on an island with a maze too.’

‘Maybe
that
means something.’

‘Well, I’m hardly going to make wings and fly away!’

‘What about the warning?’

‘O
n your head be it
?’ said Rex. ‘It sounds as if I have to do something, but I just don’t know what.’

They both fell silent. Rex looked over at Hildred. He wanted to unburden himself completely, to tell her what he was really doing with Dr Velhildegildus, but he stopped himself.
‘It’s hard to know who to trust these days,’ he said quietly.

‘You can trust me,’ said Hildred. ‘You have no reason not to.’

Rex smiled. ‘I do believe I can.’

‘You know,’ said Hildred, ‘I’m really glad you’re here. Apart from anything, what on earth would I do on my own? Let’s face it, Mrs Runcible is plain odd,
Walter Freakley spends all his time messing about with his boat, and as for Gerulphus! I don’t know what he does all day. Have you noticed how he keeps disappearing?’ Then she jumped to
her feet. ‘Enough talk. Let’s go see if we can hear those voices again. I’m sure it won’t be so bad in the daytime.’

31

The question of what Gerulphus did at the asylum was indeed a valid one. While Rex was busy with his list and Hildred was with Mrs Runcible, Gerulphus was enjoying a light
snooze, and the peace, by the kitchen fire. Mrs Runcible chatted incessantly. ‘Enough to drive a fellow mad,’ he murmured.

From under the
Hebdomadal
he considered his current situation. As far as Tibor Velhildegildus knew, he was just Gerulphus, the asylum caretaker. Dr Velhildegildus seemed happy with that;
Gerulphus certainly was, and what Tibor Velhildegildus didn’t know wouldn’t harm him! In fact there were lots of things it was not necessary for the ‘mind doctor’ to be
aware of for the time being; namely what Gerulphus had done before the breakout and how after the breakout he had seized the opportunity to change his life. Who wouldn’t have in the same
situation? It had all worked out very well indeed. After all, Mrs Runcible was perfectly happy in the kitchen – she had always loved to cook – and Walter Freakley enjoyed his job as
boatman. So why shouldn’t he, Gerulphus, take the chance to have a little satisfaction too?

Hildred was right. He did spend much of his day out of sight. Mainly he spent his time wandering the empty asylum corridors, taking immense pleasure from the fact that there wasn’t the
noise there used to be. He had always found the shouting, screaming, moaning, complaining and general cacophony of the inmates most unpleasant. Gerulphus enjoyed his own company, and always had,
even as a little boy. He had never been particularly sociable. Just as well; few wished to spend time in his company. To others, he didn’t look right – people were so judgemental! But
no one cared about that here. He thought about his present companions – hardly his intellectual equals but at least they accepted him. Sometimes Mrs Runcible would not see him from morning
until evening but she never said a word. Her meals were as hit and miss as his appearances for them; when it came to cooking, enthusiasm was no substitute for skill.

Gerulphus sighed and the paper flapped gently on his nose.Yes, weighing up his past life and his present position, there was no doubt that he was now in a far better place. He knew that he had
to make the most of his relative freedom. Now that Dr Velhildegildus was in charge, his days here were numbered. But he had come to view all obstacles as opportunities.

‘Ah, well,’ he murmured, ‘all good things must come to an end.’ Whatever the doctor was up to, and Gerulphus knew he was up to something, he would not let it interfere
with his own plans. He had been very interested to hear that young Rex was to come over. It was a shame about Rex’s father. Of all the lunatics in the place he seemed the least mad. He had
tried to help him, and Hooper, during those difficult days, but Fate had other ideas. Tired of thinking, Gerulphus laid down the journal and roused himself. There was
one
job he had to finish
before he left.