Monstrous Races Read online

  Elli looked out into the deserted street, where street lamps sent long shadows falling across the ground. A thumb appeared in the window opposite her and she gestured back to say all was well.

  'Which house?' she asked quietly, looking for any kind of clue but failing to see any.

  'All of them. Well, at first anyway. They were brought to a room in each house. They're brilliant really, you'd never know. A secret room with one door and one bathroom. Handy for keeping people in...or out, whichever you need. And of course there's a secret entrance to each one, there's no window so you can't tell from outside.' He yawned and sat back, closing his eyes.

  'Some spilled everything at the sight of a couple of dog-heads, another said he couldn't stand there being no noise and ended up singing and shouting. We kept telling him the room was soundproofed but he didn't seem to care. The one thing they all had in common was that none of us spoke. Not one word, no acknowledgement, nothing. Max always says threats are the very last thing to try, give them enough space and they'll tell you everything themselves.'

  'Wait a minute, are you saying that you kept them as prisoners in these homes? In...cells?' She stomped back over to her seat, suddenly very hot and ill at ease.

  'It's not like that,'' he said simply. 'We prefer to call them guests and none of them were hurt or badly treated. We only have them here for a day or two anyway. Have you forgotten what they were willing to do to you? Justice is done and it doesn't cost the taxpayer a penny, really we're providing a service...'

  'And what did they tell you?' she asked, looking across at him. He stretched out and collapsed further into the chair, absent-mindedly gnawing on the shining trotter.

  'A few bits at first. How they'd been recruited, what they'd been promised, that kind of thing. Most had done it for the money but a couple wanted more than that, a title or something. In the New Order. That's what he's been telling them, that he brings a New Order where all men are equal, but some are more equal than others.’

  ‘Anyway, the second stage of the plan was to escort them all to a much larger room, where they were all back in together and given as much food and drink as they wanted. Special drink,' he said, his eyes shining. 'Very strong special drink. Then we just had to listen in, it was easy really. They didn't seem to know that much, but there was one name they mentioned, George, Lord Lansdown's personal servant. They said he's in Brayston, they don't know what he looks like or how to find him but they all say he got in contact.' She watched him lighting the lamps around the room with a long taper.

  'They'd each been given a hand-written letter in green ink and then told to destroy it. Now they weren't the brightest collection of individuals, as demonstrated when two of them set fire to the letter whilst holding onto it and burned their own hands. So as well as the lives and loves of a group of thugs, that was about the only useful information.' He whispered conspiratorially, 'although for one rather more sensitive soul we all felt that his love was sharing the room with him and four other men in what was possibly the happiest night of his life.'

  'So where are they now?' she asked, her eyelids growing heavy in the warm glow of the lamps. 'I'm assuming they were all together here somewhere.' He nodded, pointing to the ground.

  'We've got two cellars, one secret. We couldn't keep them here indefinitely after all so when they'd all drunk enough and were fast asleep they were all...dealt with.' He stood at the fireplace, his arms working the bellows and the flickering flames giving the fur on his face a warm red lustre.

  'Dealt with?' she repeated, immediately patting down an ember that had landed on her arm.

  'I'd imagine it's fireproof,' he said merrily, crunching the remainder of the pig's trotter. 'Yes, dealt with. Dad has contacts that aren't strictly legal but it means that he can come and go without alerting the authorities, mostly by using Barry's Ethiopian Pegasus in a converted skycoach with extra space under the seats. Not too comfortable but it works well. Then our cargo were each dropped off to other skycoaches heading to ports at different corners of the world. Of course, being an old romantic I asked that the two of them stayed together, I really hope they make a go of it...'

  'So they were expelled?' He nodded vaguely, placing both hands on his expanding stomach.

  'They'll each wake up with a cracking hangover and no idea where they are. No possessions, no idea how to speak the language, it's liberating really. Plus it should take them a good few years to work their way back. Most of them will probably stay, start a new life that doesn't involve beating other people about the head. Feel better for knowing now?' he asked, as she nodded and slumped into Max's chair. 'Just close your eyes and have a little sleep, forty winks can really help your brain to function...' he mumbled, nestling into cushions and snoring loudly shortly afterwards.

  Rufus and Elli both flinched when they heard the front door open, and Elli immediately jumped up out of Max's seat and stood rubbing her eyes next to it. Rufus remained sprawled out with his legs on the table, his arms folded across his stomach. He opened one eye and cocked his ear, a smile slowly spreading over his features. Elli listened hard, hearing a number of footsteps and hushed voices. Alpha Sawyre came in first, with Max following just behind her. They'd removed their coats and shoes and Elli could still hear the rain pelting down outside.

  'Not quite a full gorgadon then Elli,' said Alpha Sawyre, raising an eyebrow at the discarded pots and half-eaten meats that littered the table.

  'I'll just...'

  'Rufus!' bellowed Max, watching him jump up and land on the floor in one swift movement and then immediately carry armfuls of bones, empty pots and peel to the kitchen. 'We've brought a couple of visitors to see you Elli,' he said calmly, looking down at the empty seat. 'For some reason they've missed you both...'

  Two dog-heads stood in the doorway, their habits damp from the lashing rain outside and their eyes wide at the rich velvets and vibrant colours of the surroundings.

  'Elli?' asked Tyler, his large dalmatian face breaking into a broad grin as he walked towards her, lifting her up off of her feet and hugging her so tightly she felt she might explode. 'I'm so glad you're safe.' He paused and relaxed his grip slightly so that she could exhale. 'Gerald has been filling in on cooking duty, don't ever leave us again. Please. Who makes rice pudding with mushrooms? Really, who? Rufus!' he called as Rufus came back in, placing Elli gently down and bounding towards him. 'The place hasn't been the same without you, it really hasn't.' His black silky ears flapped as he rushed towards him, his body gaining such momentum that Rufus leaned back only to be pulled forward into an enthusiastic hug.

  Rufus looked over Tyler's shoulder to see Gorda standing there, her arms folded and her sheepdog face looking decidedly unimpressed.

  'Rufus,' she said simply, nodding over to him. 'And Elli. So what on earth has been going on here?' Elli shrugged, looking up at Gorda’s long fur that she'd tied back with small clips around her face in two bedraggled pony tails. 'And what he says about Gerald is right you know,' she added, walking over to the seats and slumping into the closest one. 'Cabbage and nettle tea soup. We need you back my girl. I see there have been some changes while you've been away, and fashions have certainly changed,' she said, eyeing Elli's gorgadon suit and looking across at the discarded furry head on the seat next to her.

  'Hey Gorda, I've missed you as always. I'll bet you've cried yourself to sleep every night since I've been gone,' said Rufus, his eyes twinkling as he sauntered over.

  'Not really Rufus,' she answered sourly.

  'And so five now from the Dogheadhood,' said Alpha Sawyre, poised and regal next to Max. 'Gorda and Tyler you'll be staying with Uncle Frankie, a charming dog-head I've had the pleasure to meet twice. Elli, I suggest that you change out of your suit and that we meet back here in an hour for dinner and some much-needed conversation.'

  Max nodded and looked across at Rufus and Elli. 'You two had better start getting the food prepared then, I've got business to attend to.' Elli watched him catch Alpha Sawyre�
��s eye purposefully, their bodies close together in the doorway.

  Chapter Sixteen

  An alternative use for a bald head

  Elli heard the commotion from her bed and pulled the blankets up tight over her head. Disjointed voices and creaking wood sifted up through the floorboards, and the house was awake with the murmuring of water faucets and the bubbling of spiced tea from the kitchen. She turned over bleary-eyed, placing a pillow over her head to block out the unwanted noise. Eventually she heard her door creak like an old knee joint, and looked up to see a steaming cup and a plate of buttered toast at her bedside.

  She pulled herself up and stretched, eating her breakfast greedily and in no rush to find out what was happening in the world beyond her room. The knock was brief and punctuated by the door being flung open; Rufus stood framed in the doorway leaning to one side. He wore only his towelling robe and a smile, with the fur on his head perched there like a startled hamster.

  'Morning sunshine,' he said breezily, sitting on the edge of the bed and helping himself to her toast. 'Bet you're wondering why I'm up at this hideous hour.' She barely managed to nod and pulled the covers up tighter around her, willing away draughts and annoying dog-heads. 'Well, somebody slept through all the excitement, I'd imagine you have some sort of food hangover. It turns out the Queen has been informed about Lord Lansdown's little quest and is sending her flying cavalry this way to assess the threat. On the positive side Lord Lansdown may well be stopped before he reaches us, but on the negative she'll probably want your stone as well when she realises what it's all about. Which is nice. So we'd have to deal with the most powerful monarch in living memory instead of the fat-head with delusions of grandeur.

  Secondly, and you're not going to like this much, we've acquired some intelligence to suggest that Lord Lansdown will be here within four days. Yup,' he said, licking butter off of the toast and leaving a greasy smear around his mouth, 'that's pretty soon really. The Queen's cavalry will probably be here in five days to intercept him, so that's really not that long to sort something out, is it?

  And finally, and you're really not going to like this, our intelligence has also found a mole; somebody we all know who's been feeding information to Lord Lansdown.' He paused and looked into her eyes carefully. 'He had us all, even I never had a clue. It's Whaler,' he said quietly, looking for her reaction. 'Turns out he's a faithful servant, their closest in fact. He's been identified by three separate people. It's him,' he said simply, and Elli's world suddenly made less sense. Her stomach heaved and she sighed, sinking back down onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling. 'Thought I'd better tell you on your own. We've got him here for questioning.'

  'And afterwards?' she asked quietly. Rufus smiled sadly and walked to the door.

  'He leaves,' he answered, closing the door behind him.

  She finally joined them all at lunchtime after sitting at the top of the stairs and listening for a while. Like a well-organised anthill each individual was vital to the collective effort, but sometimes their solitary efforts seemed baffling at best. She heard talk of secret weapons and exotic creatures, and she was fairly sure that some false gendarme uniforms had been commissioned. When she finally appeared in the hubbub she stood paler than some remembered, and seemed smaller than before amongst the dog-heads. The talk had sputtered and died when she appeared, and she walked resolutely through them all, her head high and her eyes very slightly red.

  'Hungry?' asked Max, placing his hand firmly on her shoulder. She nodded and he looked across at Uncle Frankie, who looked across at Rufus, who rolled his eyes and slunk off into the kitchen.

  'Where is he?' she asked, her eyes fixed on Max. He blinked and lowered his head to talk to her quietly, uneasy in his adopted posture.

  'He's in the cellar,' he answered, as strangled talk began again in hushed tones all around, eyes glancing at them both and ears listening out for their conversation. 'But it's not a good idea. Let's talk about it upstairs, just you and me.' She stood very still and shook her head, making small movements but with certainty.

  'No need, and please don't think I'm not grateful, I really am. But I must see him, I need to make sure.' He smiled showing even white teeth, his years suddenly obvious in the lines around his eyes gathered like the rings of an old tree.

  'I can't do that Elli,' he stated firmly. 'He's very good at playing the confused, innocent boy. But he's not you know. He'd been spying and recording. Can you say for certain he's who you think he is? Because I've got three different people who place him as George, the manservant of the Landowners; George who's been sending them sealed letters; George who's made it his business to get close to you.' He looked down at her and saw that she was trembling slightly, aware that the half-hearted conversations all around them had petered out. There was silence between them and she stepped forward to take his hand in hers, feeling the solid flesh and sharp-cut stones of his rings in her palms.

  'I really need to speak with him Max,' she said, her voice pure and strong. 'Please trust me.' Max placed his other hand over hers and squeezed it gently.

  'You're the one with the stone,' he said finally, shrugging his shoulders and releasing her hand. 'But not on your own. Take the boy,' he said, nodding towards the kitchen. 'And don't believe a single word he says. He's not Whaler any more, he's George. Don't either of you forget that.'

  Rufus and Elli walked down the stairs together in silence, the false panel on the wall giving after a series of intricate taps. The secret basement was bright and surprisingly airy, and a freshly-made bed stood to one side with a selection of books and writing materials. A small bathroom was off to one side, and Elli could see the remnants of a meal and a large jug of water. George looked up as though dazed, his dark hair falling into his eyes. He smiled at the sight of them, and saw Elli subtly shake her head and take a seat. Rufus remained standing behind her, his features immobile.

  'You alright?' he asked sadly, his voice croaking under the strain. Elli struggled to look him in the eye, preferring instead to concentrate on the floor. He picked up his pen and doodled on some yellowing paper. 'My name is George Sanderson, and believe me I have absolutely no affection for either Lansdown. I trimmed his beard and dyed her hair, hardly the work of a master spy is it?' He looked up at Rufus who continued to stare ahead and shrugged his shoulders. 'I have said all this before, but I know nobody believes me,' he added bitterly, concentrating on his drawing.

  Elli cleared her throat and looked across at him, watching his pen scratch into the surface of the paper. 'Try it again,' she said softly, picking up another pad of paper and a pen. 'Just talk through exactly what happened. I believe in prison they take your statement. So let's have it, you talk and I'll make notes.' George poured himself some water and Rufus paced around the room, his sombre presence large in the confined space. When he'd finished there was an awkward silence.

  'I'm not going to ask if you believe me,' he said finally, his eyes shining and his cheeks flushed. 'But at least know that when I was Whaler I was happier than I've ever been. And don't let your guard down; they're still out there and trying to get close to you. I've given you all of the names that I know but there will be more by now. I've been misdirecting them all over the place, most of them left Brayston on my instruction.' She nodded briskly and stood up, smiling across at him in spite of herself. 'Take care of yourself Elli,' he added sadly.

  Rufus exhaled loudly as they left the room, bolting the door behind him and seeing Elli wince as he did so. 'What do you make of that then?' he asked, his keys jangling at his side. 'I'm not sure now, he's still as pathetic as ever.' Elli nodded thoughtfully, keenly aware that he was alone behind a locked door.

  'Can he hear us?' she whispered into the dim light, talking at the tall dog-head silhouette in front of her.

  'No, it's all soundproofed,' said Rufus. 'Why?'

  'Because I want to talk it over with you before we see everyone else. And before I forget, let's get him his harpsichorgan. He might as well p
ractice, there's not much else to do.' She sat on the bottom step and ran her fingers through the rails. 'Can we prove any of it?' Rufus sat next to her, scratching his muzzle.

  'Not that I can think of. So he claims he wrote the letters to misdirect the Lansdowns, to send them off all over the place and that's why they've taken so long to reach us. Could be. We'd need to check those letters to be sure.'

  'Could you check his lodgings and his workplace?' asked Elli, stretching out on the cold stones. 'You might find something. He says there will be an attack from the inside at about the same time as their arrival. Well that makes sense. Shame he doesn't know who'll be attacking, where and exactly when though. Now that would be useful.'

  'We're already on red alert,' grumbled Rufus, picking at his fingernails. 'What's next, puce? Mauve? At this rate we won't be leaving this place for days, or you won't anyway. And I was just beginning to do well at Goat Cuisine.'

  She looked up archly and ceased tapping on the stairs. 'Do well? By that you mean you were almost earning money rather than paying them. That poor man who had the sushi sitting on his head, his bald head at that. You know, I've got a sneaking suspicion that numbers were up as they wanted to see what you'd do next.'

  'Me?' he asked, his hand on his puffed-up chest. 'What an insult. I'm never anything but professional. And having us unable to attend for a few days, maybe forever, might make that clear to Billy too,' he said, eyes shining in the gloomy stairwell. 'It doesn't hurt to remind your employer of your talents now and again.'

  'It does if they include petty thievery and assault with a dead fish.' They paused for a moment, each mulling things over. 'Who's the one in charge?' she asked finally. 'There must be someone who runs this place. Who's the one in charge of Brayston?'