Goodly and Grave 3-Book Story Collection

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

HAVOC CREATED

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” Lucy shouted, when she’d hurriedly taken the glass cover off the raven.

“The Wish Book? You managed it?” the raven said, stretching out his metal wings in triumph. “Brilliant girl!”

“But he knows. Lord Grave knows I’ve stolen it. He’ll work out where I am, any second!” Lucy’s words came out in a frantic tumble.

“Open the book,” the raven said, hopping to the ground.

Lucy sat on the cold marble floor and did as the raven said.

“But how does it work? Oh no! You can’t tell me, can you?”

The raven stared at Lucy. “Drat it! That’s right!”

“You can write it though, like last time?”

“Of course I can!” The raven darted over to a dusty corner of the room as before. Lucy followed him, carrying the Wish Book. Again using his beak as a pen, the raven wrote:

26 pages. Page 1=A

Lucy gazed at the raven and shook her head, not understanding.

“Think. Think about the pages. What else has twenty-six parts?” The raven said urgently.

Lucy put her hands to her head, willing her brain to think fast. “The alphabet. I see! The first page is A, the second B and so on like that!”

“Yes! What do the words on the first page say?”

“To Wish, Spell. So I have to … spell out the wish?”

“Yes! Yes!” The raven took flight and flew around the room, cawing wildly.

“What should I wish for exactly?” Lucy shouted up at him.

The raven landed and scuffed over the dust with his claws before writing in it again. This time he wrote:

CREATE HAVOC.

“That’s what I have to wish for? Create Havoc? What will that do? Cause a distraction so we can escape?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“But what about wishing I was back with my mother and father? What about Violet and the others?”

“We can attend to all that afterwards. Think, Lucy, think. If you wish yourself back home with your parents, then that’s where you’ll be, not here. How then will I get free? How will we help the other children?”

“Can’t you make your wish afterwards?”

“No. I’d still be raven-formed. The Wish Book only works with a human’s touch. Please, Lucy. We need to hurry. If we don’t … we may not be in time to save your little friend.”

Lucy sat down again and opened the Wish Book. She ran her fingertips over the three holes that represented the letter C. After that, she turned to the eighteenth page, R, then continued back and forth over the pages, the cold metal growing warm under her fingers.

At last, she reached the final C of CREATE HAVOC and was about to run her fingers over the corresponding three holes when something needle-sharp plunged into her shoulder. It was Smell. He was clinging to her, digging his claws in.

“Arrgh! Where did you come from? Get off me!” she cried. “Get off!”

“The last letter! The last letter!” shrieked the raven, flapping its wings. It launched itself at Smell and grabbed the cat’s tail in its beak, dragging him off. Lucy shrieked in pain as Smell’s claws raked the back of her neck. The two animals fell to the floor in a snarling tangle of metal and fur.

Eyes watering in pain, Lucy used her sleeve to wipe away the blood trickling down her neck. Then she brushed her fingers over the three holes that stood for C. In the same instant that her fingers touched the final hole, Smell and the raven stopped fighting.

“Cccccckkkkkk!” said the raven, before keeling over backwards. It lay motionless, legs pointing towards the ceiling.

Lucy dropped the Wish Book in shock.

“You killed him, you stupid, stupid animal!” she shouted at Smell.

Smell was backing away from the dead raven, growling, belly low against the ground, his one and a half ears flattened against his skull. Black smoke began billowing from the raven’s chest, as though its heart was on fire. Before Lucy could fathom this, the smoke filled the Room of Curiosities, blinding her and making her throat burn and itch. She staggered about, coughing. The smoke grew even thicker and swirled around her. So did horrible thoughts.

I’m going to die here.

I’ll never get home to Leafy Ridge. Never see Mother or Father again. Violet will meet a horrible end. And no one will ever discover what happened to all the other stolen children. Lord Grave and Ma’am and the others will have got away with it.

She shook her head to clear it. Thinking of her father had reminded her of something. Because he so often nearly set the kitchen alight when he was scorching pies, Lucy had taken the trouble to learn some basic fire safety. So she knew that she should keep as close to the ground as possible where the air was fresher. She dropped to the marble floor and began to crawl along. But the smoke quickly blackened and thickened even more. She heard Smell wail pitifully. The smoke gathered itself into a thin whirling tube, like a hurricane. Light flickered and crashed at the centre of the hurricane, growing brighter and brighter. The light swallowed the smoke and then flashed hard and fast and loud, dazzling Lucy and making her ears ring.

When the light faded and she could see again, the last of the smoke was drifting in dark wisps towards the ceiling.

In place of the whirling hurricane stood a tall thin man.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A COMPLETE DISASTER

Smell leaped at the man’s face, teeth bared, claws unsheathed. But the man was ready for him, grabbing the scruff of his neck before flinging him away. Smell crashed into some of the other curiosities in the room and lay motionless where he fell, amongst shards of glass.

As for Lucy, before she could do anything, the man reached down and whipped the scarf from round her neck, using it to tie her hands together behind her back. Then he forced her face down on the ground and used the trailing ends of the scarf to tie her ankles together before taking a handkerchief from his pocket and tying it round her mouth. Lucy hoped that the handkerchief was at least clean.

With Lucy safely trussed up, the man bent over the charred remains of the raven. What was left of the bird’s metal casing was melting away, leaving a skeleton behind. Small black buds sprouted from the bones, blossoming into glossy black feathers. When it was fully restored, the raven struggled back to its feet, real feet now with real claws. It opened its beak and cawed before fluttering on to the man’s shoulder.

“Nevermore, we are ourselves again. Free,” said the man. His voice was that of the clockwork raven. He straightened the very old-fashioned three-cornered hat he wore and retied the blue ribbon fastened at the end of his long pigtail, which was black, threaded with grey.

The bird on his shoulder replied in a creaky, cackling voice, “Indeed, but we mustn’t stay here. What are you planning to do with the girl?”

“Take her with us,” the man replied.

“No!” Lucy shouted. “You can’t! You said you’d get me back home! And what about Violet and the stolen children? We need to tell someone what’s happening!” But of course her mouth was stuffed with handkerchief, so this just came out as, “Mmmph!”

“I think little Lucy is upset,” said the man. Then he bent down, his dark brown eyes meeting hers.

“I lied, I’m afraid,” he said.

“One of his many bad habits,” Nevermore remarked from her perch on the man’s shoulder.

The man straightened up and strode over to the Wish Book, which Lucy had left lying on the floor, but he didn’t pick it up.

“Do it quickly! They’ll be here soon!” shrieked Nevermore.

“Patience. I need the girl’s help,” the man said. Then he whispered something to Nevermore, who hopped off his shoulder, fluttered over to Lucy and landed on her head. Lucy screamed as the bird clawed at her scalp and began pulling out strands of hair with her beak. Tears of pain and rage trickled down Lucy’s face.

“Excellent!” said the man.

“Enough?” said Nevermore.

“For now.”

The man crouched next to Lucy again and dipped each of his fingers in the tears trickling down her cheeks. When each fingertip was wet, the man held them in front of his face. White sparks danced and sizzled over his hands.

“Now we can begin,” said the man, picking up the Wish Book. He opened it and began turning the pages back and forth with the fingers he’d dipped in Lucy’s tears. He worked so quickly, the pages blurred.

A second later, Lord Grave, Bathsheba, Vonk and Mrs Crawley all came crashing into the Room of Curiosities, tumbling over each other in their haste. When they’d scrambled to their feet (and paws), they stood gawping at Lucy, Nevermore (who was still perched on the back of Lucy’s head) and the strange man.

“Havoc Reek. So you’re free,” Lord Grave said. Bathsheba stood next to him, growling.

“Credit where it’s due, Grave. You’ve done well to keep us this long. That was a clever enchantment, although a little cruel, don’t you think?” Havoc Reek said, continuing to spell with the Wish Book.

“You took my son!” Lord Grave bellowed, although it was a hoarse sort of bellow due to the after-effects of the Extra Violent Mustard Mix.

Havoc Reek made a scoffing noise.

Lucy remembered the painting of Lady Grave and Little Lord Grave. Vonk had said that little Lord Grave was dead. Had this man killed him?

“Let the girl go,” Lord Grave said.

“I could. But I won’t. Come any nearer and Nevermore will peck a hole in her jugular. She’ll die in seconds.”

Nevermore hopped on to Lucy’s shoulder blade and Lucy felt the cold sharp jab of the bird’s beak against her neck. Smell, who had recovered by now and was crouched next to Lord Grave and Bathsheba, yowled and wriggled his bottom, as though preparing to pounce.

“You don’t have any power to escape. The Wish Book won’t work for you now,” Lord Grave said.

“You’d be surprised.” Havoc’s fingers grew still. He looked up from the Wish Book. At the same time a slash appeared in mid-air, a ragged bright slash like the one Lucy had seen above the driveway when Lord Grave’s dinner guests had arrived.

“Don’t do it!” Lord Grave stepped forward menacingly. “We’ll find you anyway.”

“No nearer!” Havoc screamed and grabbed Lucy.

The slash opened wider. Became a hole. There was nothing but darkness inside it.

“Let her go. I won’t stop you escaping if you do,” Lord Grave said.

“I know why you want her. She comes with me. So does the Wish Book.”

Lord Grave lunged at Havoc, but it was too late. Havoc pushed Lucy head-first through the hole, as though he was threading a giant needle. As Lucy felt herself fall, she heard a familiar gruff accented voice say, “Wet my whiskers, Grave, this is a complete disaster.”

She briefly recognised it as the voice from the argument she’d overheard outside the drawing room, and wondered again who it belonged to.

Then the darkness took her.

Lucy shivered and opened her eyes. Her arms and legs were stiff and cold. It was as though she’d fallen asleep on one of the chilly marble slabs that kept Bathsheba’s meat cold in Mrs Crawley’s pantry. She was lying on her side in a round room with grey, curved stone walls and a high narrow window made of glass crisscrossed with strips of black metal. Snow was piled up against the outside of the window. Havoc suddenly loomed over her with Nevermore on his shoulder. He untied the handkerchief from her mouth.

“This isn’t Leafy Ridge! This is somewhere else entirely! You tricked me!” Lucy blurted out.

“No. I saved you. Saved you from Grave. He’d have followed us in a trice if I’d taken you home. I’m on your side, remember?”

“You ripped half my hair out! How is that being on my side?”

“It was a very stressful situation. I may have acted a little forcefully. Spoken immoderately. I’m going to untie you now. I trust you not to do anything stupid. You need to trust me in return. Do we have agreement?”

Lucy wasn’t at all sure she could trust this man and his vicious companion. He had freed her from Lord Grave’s clutches, but he’d also threatened to kill her. Still, she had little choice but to play along for the time being. “I suppose so.”

“You’re going to be friends? How touching,” cawed Nevermore as Havoc began untying Lucy.

“I’ll be back shortly,” Havoc said when Lucy was finally free. He turned on his heel and left, with the Wish Book tucked under his arm and Nevermore on his shoulder. Lucy heard him locking the door behind him.

After what seemed like hours, Havoc and Nevermore finally returned. Havoc was bundled up in a cloak trimmed with fur. Lucy stared at it jealously. She’d been pacing around the room for ages trying to keep warm.

“Where are we and what exactly is happening? And what about Violet and the other children? What are we going to do about them?” Lucy said.

“Have some patience, Lucy. It will all become clear. Let’s get out of here, it’s freezing.” He pulled his cloak tighter round himself.

“I had noticed,” Lucy said, blowing on her blue and frozen fingers.

“So insolent!” said Nevermore. “Shall I peck one of her eyes to quieten her down? Hazel ones are my very favourite. I particularly enjoy sucking out the middle part. So very tasty! Yum yum!” She flapped around Lucy’s head, forcing her to follow Havoc out of the room and to the bottom of a stone staircase.

“Do try to be nice, Nevermore,” Havoc said, grabbing Lucy’s arm and pulling her up the narrow stone steps. They twisted and turned until Lucy grew so dizzy she was almost glad Havoc had such a strong hold of her. At last, the stairs ended. Ahead lay a passageway lined with arched windows.

Lucy wrenched her arm from Havoc’s grasp and darted over to one of the windows, hoping to work out where she was. She glimpsed a flat frozen landscape that stretched for miles, white and empty. Snow drifted from the night sky.

“Come on,” Havoc said, dragging her away.

They reached a huge wooden door studded with black metal. Havoc turned the ring-shaped handle and opened the door. He strode over the threshold with Lucy firmly in tow.

At least this room was warm and bright. A friendly yellow glow came from several tall candelabras and a fire crackling in an enormous stone fireplace. A woman stood with her back to Havoc and Lucy, warming her hands over the flames. Her hair was red and she wore a warm-looking scarlet dress with black fur collar and cuffs.

The woman turned.

At once, Lucy twisted out of Havoc’s grip and scrambled her way back to the door. She fumbled for the handle. But Havoc was on her in a second, forcing her into the room again. She had no choice but to face the woman who had given her nightmares all these years.

Lady Red.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

LADY RED

“Hello, sweet child. What a wonderful surprise. I could hardly believe it when Havoc told me you were here,” said Lady Red.

“This is Amethyst Shade. Are you pleased to be reunited?” Havoc was behind Lucy, but she could hear the smugness in his voice. She tried to stamp her heel down on his toes, but missed.

Amethyst Shade smiled. The light from the fire behind her cast a halo round her hair.

Afraid to meet Amethyst’s eyes, the eyes that she’d seen so often in her nightmares, Lucy stared at the walls instead. Then wished she hadn’t. The wallpaper depicted wild-eyed, long-fanged beasts eating smaller, more unfortunate creatures. Lucy shifted her gaze to the ceiling, where several small, blue glass bottles dangled from silver chains.

“Havoc, perhaps you might leave us now so Lucy and I can have a talk,” Amethyst said.

“Of course.” Havoc smiled a thin-lipped smile and bowed slightly. “We can get together later, my dear.”

“Call me that again and I’ll be forced to do something unspeakable to you.” For a second, Amethyst’s eyes glowed in the unnatural way they had in Lucy’s nightmares. If only mentally slamming a door could save Lucy now. But there was no escaping this terrifying woman any longer.

“You mustn’t mind Havoc,” Amethyst said when the two of them were finally alone. Her voice was surprisingly warm and gentle and her eyes had returned to a more normal blue colour. “He can be somewhat … acerbic, but he means well. Although I must admit that bird is a complete ruffian. But listen to me, chattering on while you’re nearly dead with exhaustion. Please. Sit down and rest.”

Lucy’s trembling legs were grateful for the offer and so she collapsed into one of the chairs next to the fire. Her head was spinning as she tried to make sense of everything.

“Don’t be afraid, Lucy. You’ll be safe here. I mean you no harm,” Amethyst said.

“I haven’t got the card,” Lucy blurted out. “It’s at Grave Hall. I’m sorry I stole it!”

“I don’t care about the card,” said Amethyst, smiling in a reassuring way. “It was never about the card. It was about you being safe. I knew he wanted to take you, even then.”

“Who? Lord Grave?” Lucy said, feeling increasingly bemused.

“Oh, my poor child, you’re shivering. I’m so sorry, you must be perished.” Amethyst went over to a wardrobe in the corner of the room, took out a fur-lined cloak, and brought it to Lucy, who wrapped herself in it, grateful for its warmth. Then she took a chair and set it opposite Lucy.

“As I said, Grave had his eye on you, so I kept my eye on him. But then you stole the card from me. I tried to find you again, but I couldn’t. Sometimes I felt I was getting close. I’m not sure if it was magic or instinct but I could sense you nearby. But then, almost like having a door slammed in my face, I’d lose you again. It was as though you had vanished.”

“I didn’t go anywhere.”

“How strange. Now tell me, what do you know about Grave’s activities? Has Havoc told you anything?”

“He couldn’t tell me much because of his enchantment, the one Lord Grave put on him.”

“What a clever … enchantment.”

“But I do know some things. I overheard Lord Grave talking to a horrible, thuggish-sounding man who I think works for a woman they call Ma’am. Lord Grave and the others have been kidnapping children on her orders. But I don’t know exactly why.”

Amethyst’s eyes grew brighter for a second and Lucy was afraid she’d made her angry. But then Amethyst simply sighed sadly. “Yes, the mysterious Ma’am. Her identity has always been kept secret, but I’m doing my best to find out who she is. Oh, it’s all so very evil, but so very clever. Taking children who won’t be missed by anyone. Orphans. Neglected children whose parents don’t care about them.”

Lucy was about to say, but I’m not an orphan. My parents don’t neglect me. But then she remembered how terrible life had been before she met Amethyst and stole the card. How her parents kept gambling, even when they didn’t have enough to eat. So it wasn’t surprising that she might have appeared somewhat uncared for.

“What do they do to the children they steal?” Lucy asked fearfully.

Amethyst left her seat and walked over to the window. She stared out at the snow for a few seconds. “Children are full of love, energy and curiosity. This makes them powerful in ways that are lost when they become adults. Grave, Ma’am and their cronies want to take that power for themselves. They use terrible magic to drain it out of children, not caring if they die in the process.” Amethyst turned back to Lucy. Tears were streaming down the woman’s cheeks.

Lucy’s own eyes blurred. “They have my friend Violet,” she said in a small voice. “She’s only little.”

Amethyst came over to Lucy’s chair and crouched beside her, taking Lucy’s cold hands in hers. They felt warm and soft. “Don’t despair. There’s always hope. And at least you’re safe now, here with me.”

“Where is here, exactly?”

“It’s best you don’t know where you are, sweet child. What you don’t know can’t be … forced out of you.”

“We’re a long way from Grave Hall, though, aren’t we? So why did it only take a few minutes to get from there to here?”

“That’s because you came by magic. Using normal methods of transport would take weeks.”

“Can Lord Grave use magic to get here too?” Lucy said, suddenly afraid that she wasn’t really safe after all.

“No one can come within several miles of this tower without my say-so.”

“If you’re a magician too, why can’t you do something to stop Lord Grave and Ma’am and the rest of them?”

Amethyst’s face grew solemn. “We tried in the past. Havoc and I. But when Grave found out what we were up to there was a battle. We fought hard, but Grave and his minions are very powerful.”

“And Ma’am too?”

“Yes. Ma’am was involved too, of course. We lost, and we found ourselves stripped of our magic and helpless. They caught Havoc and enchanted him, as you know. But I was luckier. I managed to retain just enough of my magic to escape and hide here.”

“If you’ve been stripped of your magic, does that mean you’re trapped here?” Lucy asked, anxious that she might be trapped too, if that was the case.

“It’s complicated to explain. But I can still use magic temporarily to leave here and for long enough to thwart the kidnappers.”

“What about the police? If you told them what was happening they could help, couldn’t they?”

“I’m like you, Lucy. I’m from a poor family. No one would take my word against Grave’s.”

Lucy nodded slowly. She’d been in the same boat, so she understood. “So how have you been thwarting the kidnappers?”

Amethyst smiled and her eyes glowed again, not with anger this time, Lucy thought, but with triumph. “I’ll show you.”

Amethyst took Lucy’s hand and led her out of the room and back down the twisty stone staircase to the floor below, then along a passageway with a door at the end of it.

“Now, I hope this will be a pleasant surprise for you.” Amethyst put her hand on the doorknob, then stopped. “One thing, Lucy. Don’t mention Ma’am to anyone just yet. I want to find out exactly who she is first. And I don’t want any of my guests made more afraid than they already are or to have information that could put them in danger later on.”

“Guests?”

“You’ll see,” Amethyst smiled warmly as she opened the door to a large round room. Like the room Lucy had just been in, it had a huge fireplace and tall candelabras. Thick, jewel-coloured rugs covered the floors. One was rolled up and a game of hopscotch was chalked out on the stone flags. A boy and a girl sat at a table with a game of chess laid out in front of them. They both looked up as Amethyst and Lucy entered.

“Hello, Mother! Have you rescued someone new? I didn’t know you were going out!” said the boy. His wavy black hair was shoulder-length and he had thick black eyebrows.

“I’ll explain later, Bertie. This is Lucy Goodly. The poor child has been incarcerated at Grave Hall until now. Can I leave her with you to settle in?”

Bertie sprang to his feet. “Of course!”

Amethyst gave Lucy a quick hug. “I’ll see you very soon, sweet child,” she said and left the room.