The House of Hidden Wonders Read online

  The attack came out of nowhere. A large hand grabbed her by the throat, dragging her into a shadowed alley and lifting her into the air. A second later, Zinnie found herself up against the wall, choking, scrabbling at Bartholomew Talbot’s rough fingers. She kicked out, desperate for breath, but she might as well have been fighting a rock.

  “Well, well, well,” he said in a soft voice, eyeing her struggles with utter disdain. “Where are you running to so fast, my wee lamb?”

  Zinnie went for her knife but her vision was blurring. He saw her shaking hand coming and knocked the blade from her grip with his free hand.

  “I ain’t gonna kill you,” he said, loosening his grip just enough to let her slump against the wall, gasping. “Leastways, not yet.”

  Zinnie coughed, dragging in breath after breath through her crushed throat. Then she kicked out again, but he was ready for her. Talbot dodged the lash of her foot and replaced his grip on her neck, this time lifting her clear off the ground. Stars exploded behind her eyes, a dense black cloud gathering at the edges of her vision.

  “None of that,” Talbot whispered, his lips against her ear. “I just want some information, that’s all. Word on the closes is that you’ve adopted another scrag of wasteling meat. Now who could that be, I wonder?”

  Zinnie couldn’t have answered him even if she’d wanted to.

  I’m going to die, she thought. He’s going to kill me, right now, and no one will even notice. Least of all him.

  She wasn’t sad about it exactly. Death suddenly felt as if it might be quite a calm, quiet place to be, away from the heavy burden that it seemed to be just to live.

  But what about Sadie, and Nell? What about Aelfine? Who would look after them if you were gone?

  The thought brought her round, just a little. Zinnie struggled against Talbot’s hand and he seemed to realize that she wasn’t faking. It was likely more to do with the information he wanted than any worry about killing her, but he let her go, just enough for her to find her feet and take another desperate breath.

  “She’s no one,” Zinnie spluttered hoarsely.

  Talbot loomed over her, hand pressing hard against her thin shoulder, almost threatening to shatter the bone. “Must have been someone, lamb.”

  Zinnie shook her head, her throat aching. “Didn’t even know her name. Just a runaway. And she … ran away again, once she’d eaten our food and nicked our money.”

  “Freak, was she? Something strange about her?”

  Zinnie frowned. “What? No. Just had the mark of the pox, that’s all.”

  “Animal with her? A pet?”

  Zinnie actually managed to fake a laugh. “A pet? She couldn’t even feed herself. Though I s’pose she can now, what with the coins she nabbed.”

  Talbot leaned in, narrowing his eyes as he examined hers, as if he could read the truth there. His breath smelled of whisky and rot. Zinnie felt sick but she didn’t look away. He grinned.

  “What did I tell you when I first took you in?” he said. “Never trust no one, never help no one, cos there’s no one down here who’s not looking out for themselves. Surprised you ain’t been done over before, with your do-gooding.”

  Zinnie coughed again and wriggled free, forcing herself to stay upright as she tried to catch her breath, despite her legs feeling like jelly. She’d long ago vowed never to look beaten in front of Talbot.

  He’d been the first person she’d met as a runaway bairn, trying to find somewhere to sleep. At first he’d masqueraded as a good sort wanting to help her. He’d taken her in, told his gang to look after her, make sure she was fed. But what he’d wanted in return was a slave who would steal for him, a small body with little fingers who could get into places and pockets more easily than he or any of his other brutes. She’d run from the orphanage because it had been no better than a prison, but with Talbot she’d found herself in another sort of prison, one that led to far worse punishments. Zinnie had freed herself just as soon as she could – she’d learned to stand up for herself, to fight back fiercely enough that in the end Talbot had decided she was more trouble than she was worth. But he never let her think she’d escaped him for good. It was Talbot who had taught her every bad thing she knew. He was also the reason that Zinnie had vowed to herself that she would pluck every lone child she could out of the gutter herself, before he could get to them.

  Talbot watched her. “You’re a tough one, I’ll give you that,” he said, with a grudging kind of respect. “Could have made real use of you.”

  Her head was pounding and her throat must already be black and blue, but Zinnie made herself look him in the eye with her chin up. Talbot took a step back, rain peppering his greasy hair.

  “Guess I’ll have to keep looking then, lamb,” he said softly. “She’s out there somewhere.”

  He turned and sauntered away into the bustle of the Mile, whistling to himself and nodding nonchalantly to a passer-by who stood in the shadows, a man Zinnie didn’t recognize who wore a wide-brimmed hat tipped low over one ear. She leaned back against the wall, gulping more air and letting the cool rain fall on her face. She wasn’t fool enough to think Talbot had taken her story at face value. Like he’d said, he never trusted anyone. He’d be watching her, just in case.

  Zinnie shut her eyes, trying to think. Where would she be safe? Where would Aelfine be safe? They couldn’t stay in Constance’s room – it was probably her who’d gossiped about Zinnie’s new ‘sister’ in the first place. Even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be long before Constance realized that all she needed to do to get rid of both of them was shop Zinnie to the coppers. No one would believe Zinnie’s side of the story and she’d never get to anyone who could prove what she had to say before the police caught her.

  There was only one place for her and Aelfine now.

  “I’m sorry that we’ve ended up back down here,” Zinnie said, keeping her voice quiet in case of echoes. “But I don’t know where else to go. There won’t be any people here – they’re all still afraid of the ghost.”

  “I don’t mind,” Aelfine said, still shrouded in her cloak as they made their way through one of the dingy rooms close to where Zinnie had first found her. “No people is better.”

  Zinnie was still shaken after her flight from Grove Street and her horrible run-in with Talbot, but the deeper they got into Mary King’s Close, the calmer she became. The place was still deserted. A cold dark ruin it might be but at least they’d hear anyone coming for them. She wished she could get word to Sadie not to come back home. Her sister would be worried, she knew, but Zinnie hoped she had the sense to stay put with Nell – assuming Doctor Jex-Blake didn’t turn her out, of course.

  A muted chattering came from beneath Aelfine’s cloak.

  “I think you can let Ruby out now,” Zinnie said. “The poor thing must be tired of being under there.”

  Aelfine opened her cloak and the monkey jumped down from where she’d been clinging round her waist. Ruby stretched her arms and then ran lightly up to sit on Aelfine’s shoulder, her tail curling round her mistress’s neck as she muttered in her own little language. She watched Zinnie with strangely wise eyes.

  “Is that why you pretended to be a ghost in the first place?” Zinnie asked, her candle casting their faces into strange patterns of shadow as they started moving again. “To scare people away?”

  Aelfine nodded. “I just wanted Ruby and me to be safe.”

  “How did you do it? I really thought it was a spirit come to haunt me.”

  The girl bit her lip, as if she didn’t want to speak. “I learned it at the circus.”

  “OK,” Zinnie said. “So it was a sideshow? And the person who did it showed you how to make the ghost?”

  Aelfine shook her head. “No one was supposed to know how,” she said. “But I hid and watched. I’m good at hiding. Then I asked Ruby to help me.”

  Zinnie stopped again. “You mean you learned how to do it yourself, just from watching? That’s very clever.”

&n
bsp; Aelfine shrugged, as if she weren’t used to praise. They had reached the room with the fallen floor. Zinnie held out her candle, careful not to step over the edge of the void.

  “Well, here we are,” she said softly. “This is as far as we can go.”

  “No,” Aelfine said. “There’s more rooms. Over there.”

  She pointed into the darkness on the other side of the gaping hole. Ruby chattered in agreement.

  “I can’t get over there,” Zinnie said. “There’s no floor, Aelfine. There’s nothing to walk on and I can’t climb the way you can.” She looked at the girl thoughtfully for a moment. “The ghost was floating in mid-air. It was … see-through. I know it was you, but – how?”

  Aelfine looked at Ruby for a moment. The monkey leaned forward to jabber in her ear and Zinnie once again found herself wondering whether Ruby understood every word, spoken or silent.

  “We can show you the ghost again,” Aelfine said hesitantly. “If you like.”

  Zinnie looked into the thick darkness. Even with her candle flaring brightly in her hand, it felt as if she could be swallowed up by it, as if it were a very real, very hungry beast just waiting to pounce. The thought of seeing the ghost again unsettled her, even though she knew it wasn’t real. But it wouldn’t hurt to revive the spectre if it meant scaring away anyone who’d been thinking about coming back down into these parts. There was something lurking at the edge of her mind too, the faint spark of an idea that had something to do with MacDuff, the ‘ghost’ and helping Aelfine, though Zinnie couldn’t quite catch hold of the wisp.

  “Yes,” she decided. “Show it to me again.”

  Aelfine smiled. “Stay here.”

  With that, Ruby jumped from her shoulder and scampered away, Aelfine following close behind. They vanished into the darkness with nothing but the sound of quiet feet until even that grew too faint to hear. Then there was only silence. Zinnie was all alone. She tried to follow their progress but it seemed to her that the two of them had walked straight out into thin air, over the void and through the veil that separated this world from the next one, if indeed it really did exist. She found herself holding her breath.

  Then came that hideous screech, as if the mouth of hell had opened and a demon had clawed its way out. Zinnie knew it was only Ruby, but in the darkness the noise took on a truly terrible quality. It moved too – for a moment, it was above her, then behind her, then to the left, to the right. It swelled close, as if near enough to touch her, and then plunged away again. The hairs on the back of Zinnie’s neck stood on end, her heart pounding in her chest.

  It’s Ruby, she told herself, hands clenched into fists. It’s just the monkey, that’s all. But it was no good. The fear sank in, as deep as her bones.

  Then the ghost itself flickered into life. If there had been a floor, it would have been dancing above it, insubstantial and barely there. It glowed faintly, the light growing and then dimming again as Ruby’s demon screams went on and on. The figure lifted its arms, spreading its cloak. Zinnie cringed back as the ghostly hands seemed to reach for her across the void. Beneath the hood Zinnie could see Aelfine’s mouth, stretched open wide as that scream came yet again. The effect was so entirely convincing that Zinnie had to force herself not to turn tail and run. She made herself look at the spectre, to trace its outline and stare at that screaming mouth, but try as she might Zinnie could not see how it was at all possible that it was not a real ghost, but Aelfine.

  It felt as if she’d been staring at the ghoul for hours, but she knew it was really only a minute or two before the ghost’s hands finally retracted beneath its cloak. That seemed to be the signal for the howling to stop and in another second the spectre had blinked out of existence again, taking its glow with it and leaving nothing but a silence so absolute that Zinnie’s ears hurt.

  Zinnie stayed where she was until the sound of those quiet footsteps echoed towards her once again, and then there was Aelfine with Ruby on her shoulder, both of them very much made of flesh and blood.

  “I still don’t see,” Zinnie said, slightly breathless, when Aelfine stood in front of her again. “How did you learn to do that, just by watching?”

  Aelfine made a face. “Everyone thinks I don’t understand,” she said. “Because of –” she waved her hand to indicate herself – “but I do.”

  Ruby suddenly stood up on her hind legs on Aelfine’s shoulder, as stiff and alert as a bloodhound as she looked towards the tangle of rooms they had clambered through after leaving the close.

  “What is it?” Zinnie whispered. “Did Ruby hear something?”

  Ruby stayed still for another moment and then twisted her head round to chatter something in Aelfine’s ear. Zinnie didn’t need to speak the little creature’s language to understand Ruby’s urgency.

  “Quick,” she said. “Go and hide.”

  Aelfine darted forward and grabbed Zinnie’s hand. “You come too!”

  “I can’t,” Zinnie told her. “I don’t think I’ll be able to follow where you go, Aelfine. I’ll be fine. Go!”

  She pulled her hand out of the girl’s and gave her a little push. Zinnie waited until their footsteps had faded into the darkness and then strained to hear what Ruby’s sharp ears had picked up. At first she could detect nothing at all but then she picked out a sound in the darkness. It was faint but growing louder.

  Someone was definitely coming. Perhaps more than one person. Talbot? Could he truly have found them so quickly?

  Zinnie withdrew further into the room. Most of the floor had gone but there was a vague pathway of surviving floorboards against one wall. They curved in a semicircle to the nearest corner, a solid spur that widened at its extremity and that could perhaps be trusted if she were careful. Zinnie crept along it, worried about going too fast and putting her foot against a rotten board. But the sounds behind her were growing louder by the minute and, if she didn’t blow her candle out soon, whoever it was would see the glow.

  Zinnie swallowed her fear and blew out the flame. The black mouth of the dark monster around her rushed in, and for a moment panic gripped her throat as hard as Talbot’s hand had earlier. She sucked in a breath, trying not to make a sound. Then she dropped to her knees and scrambled backwards, away from the void that seemed to be pulsing cold air up and over its jagged edge. She came to the wall and pressed herself against it, even as it crumbled and flaked against her weight.

  Zinnie could hear the footsteps now, growing louder every second. She held her breath.

  A light bloomed in the darkness. It was stronger than a candle flame: an oil lamp. The yellow glow drew nearer, along with the sound of footsteps and the scattering of broken bricks. Zinnie braced herself against the wall. A moment later, a single figure entered the room and stopped short.

  “Watch your step here,” it called back over its shoulder. “The floor has gone. I tell you, this is quite as hazardous as the ruined temples of old Khartoum.”

  “Lady Sarah!” Zinnie stood up in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

  “Good grief!” the lady said, almost jumping out of her skin. Then: “Zinnie! There you are! Sophia! I have found her!”

  There was the sound of more footsteps and Doctor Jex-Blake also appeared in the doorway, carrying her own lamp. Zinnie glanced across the void, afraid that the explosion of light would illuminate Aelfine’s hiding place, but the further edge was still in heavy darkness.

  “Zinnie,” the doctor said with evident relief. “It is you.”

  “Where’s Sadie?” Zinnie asked, not seeing her sister with them and fearing that she was already in custody.

  “She felt it best that she remain with Nell,” said Lady Sarah.

  “Did you bring the police?” Zinnie asked, still staying where she was, just in case.

  “The police?” said Lady Sarah. “No, of course we didn’t. Although you really should come over here so that we can talk quietly, child, or we might as well have summoned the law, after all.”

  Zinnie
hesitated.

  “We’re not going to give you or your sisters up,” the doctor said softly. “We want to help. Have we not already done so? You can trust us, Zinnie.”

  Zinnie weighed her options and saw that, really, she had no choice.

  “That’s better,” Lady Sarah said, as she came closer. “What an extraordinary world you have brought me to, Zinnie. Quite spectacular. I had no idea. You were right – I was utterly unaware of what was in my own city. Remiss of me, to call myself an explorer and yet be so ignorant of what was directly under my nose.”

  Zinnie looked Lady Sarah up and down. There was something odd about her and it took her a moment to realize what. She wasn’t in one of her fine dresses but was wearing what seemed to be a long tunic over men’s trousers. Lady Sarah laughed a little at Zinnie’s expression.

  “It’s a Hawaiian riding dress,” she said. “Isabella Bird, the explorer, wears one so she can ride astride a saddle, as a man does. I had my seamstress make a set for me, for travelling, though with a shorter tunic. Isabella still likes to wear a skirt as much as she can, but I am always pleased to have an excuse not to. I had a fancy this would be useful attire down here. I was right, wasn’t I?” She seemed pleased with herself.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” Zinnie said. “It’s not safe.”

  “You’re here,” Doctor Jex-Blake pointed out.

  “I belong here,” Zinnie told her. “That’s different.”

  The doctor looked as if she might say something about no one belonging all the way down here, but she didn’t. Zinnie realized that she was eyeing her neck and wondered what Jex-Blake was looking at.

  “What happened to you, Zinnie?” the doctor asked. “Are those … bruises?”

  Zinnie touched her fingers to the skin that Talbot’s cruel fingers had crushed. She avoided Jex-Blake’s gaze. “Just dirt. Don’t get much chance for a bath down here.”

  The doctor narrowed her eyes. She obviously didn’t believe that explanation. “Tell me about the police. Is what Constable Roberts said true? Did you steal a watch?”