Mirrorscape Read online

  ‘Perhaps it’s in code,’ said Wren.

  ‘I’m sure it’s in Nemish, but I still can’t read it,’ said Ludo. ‘There’s something odd about it.’

  ‘Why does everything have to be so difficult?’ said Mel, frustrated that he could not read. ‘Even getting back from the picture was hard. Everything was back to front and I had to – ’

  ‘Wait! Hang on ….’ Ludo looked about the studio. ‘Yes!’ He unhooked a small mirror from the wall and held it at an angle against the book. ‘Can you read it now?’

  ‘Ludo, you’re brilliant,’ said Wren. ‘It’s mirror writing.’

  ‘What do you suppose a megaphine is?’ asked Ludo.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. It says they fly, which the worms don’t,’ said Mel. ‘What about that one?’

  Wren tilted the mirror. ‘It’s a “thringle”. It seems they feed on things called “fustinbules”.’

  ‘What’re they?’ asked Ludo.

  ‘Wait.’ Wren turned to the back of the book. ‘There’s an index here. Let’s see – here it is – “thringle”.’

  Neither ‘thringle’ nor ‘fustinbule’ looked promising. They tried several more creatures but with the same result.

  ‘We’re wasting time,’ said Wren.

  ‘Wait a minute. What’s that? I’ve seen it before,’ said Mel, pointing to a white-scaled, lizard-like beast.

  ‘Where?’ asked Ludo. ‘In a bad dream?’

  ‘No,’ said Wren. ‘He’s seen it there.’ She pointed to the master’s painting. Sure enough, in the foreground, beneath a tree, lazed the selfsame creature.

  The friends looked back at the bestiary. The beast had a triangular, crested head with large eyes rimmed with lemon yellow, a stout body and a long, thin tail that curled up over its back in a tight spiral. Wren read out the annotation in the mirror.

  She looked up ‘chromophage’ in the index. There was no illustration, just a brief note that said,

  Wren drew her finger down the index. ‘Harpy … Hippogryph … Humbata … Hyrda …. There’s no hogfire here.’

  ‘How about “arachnophant”?’

  She flipped back. ‘Ajatar … Allopecopithicum … Arachnophant!’ Wren turned to the indicated page.

  Ludo gasped. ‘It’s the spider creature that wounded me.’

  ‘Well, we’ve found our creature,’ said Mel. He approached Ambrosius Blenk’s canvas and studied the vermiraptor more closely. ‘You two wait here, I’ll go into the painting and fetch it.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Wren.

  ‘It doesn’t look as though it’ll be too much to handle.’

  Mel stood up straight and composed himself. He traced the unlocking symbol in the air and Wren and Ludo saw the surface of the canvas gently ripple. They watched Mel vanish, only to see him reappear almost instantly, panting heavily. His hair was dishevelled and his doublet was muddy.

  ‘Too much to handle?’ asked Wren with a smug grin.

  ‘It’s bigger than it looks,’ he gasped. ‘It doesn’t seem to want to leave. I’ll need a rope or something.’

  ‘Here,’ said Ludo, taking a length of velvet cord that held back the curtains.

  ‘That should do the trick,’ said Mel.

  Almost as soon as he disappeared, there was a loud thump and the vermiraptor appeared on the studio floor immediately in front of the canvas. It looked just as it had in the painting except it was about as big as a small crocodile and much fatter.

  ‘Get this great lump off of me,’ came Mel’s muffled voice. One of his arms appeared from under the creature.

  Ludo grabbed the velvet rope attached around the beast’s neck and tugged, while Wren helped Mel out from under it.

  ‘She’s a stubborn brute,’ he said, rubbing his bruised ribs. ‘I had to chase her for miles.’

  ‘We’d best get her down to the courtyard right away,’ said Ludo, tugging gently on the rope.

  ‘Careful, she’s vicious. She tried to bite me.’

  ‘I think I’ll call her Munchie. You’re not going to give me a hard time, are you, Munchie?’

  Munchie looked up at Ludo with her big, long-lashed eyes and blinked mildly. If a lizard could be said to smile that is certainly what she was doing to Ludo.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ said Mel.

  ‘Just like the monkeys,’ said Wren. ‘Ludo has a way with animals.’

  Ludo led the unresisting vermiraptor towards the door to the service passage. She moved with a comic, exaggerated waddle, her pot belly dragging on the floor. They entered the passage and Wren lit the way. When they came to some stairs, Munchie was reluctant to descend.

  ‘You two are going to have to carry her,’ said Wren. ‘Give him a hand, Mel.’

  ‘Me? She hates me.’ Mel took Munchie’s tail, keeping well clear of her head as she twisted and hissed and spat at him.

  ‘Munchie. Stop that,’ cooed Ludo.

  Munchie complied.

  They heard the great clock striking the hour. ‘Hurry! Everyone will be up and about soon,’ urged Wren.

  In their absence, even more of the courtyard had lost its colour. Munchie saw the chromophages and strained at her leash.

  ‘OK, Munchie. Let’s see what you can do. Grub’s up,’ said Ludo, releasing her.

  Munchie’s funny waddle became more purposeful. When she had covered half the distance towards the maggots she rose up on her front legs, uncurled her tail to balance herself, and her long, sticky tongue flashed out and returned to her open jaws with the speed of a piece of elastic snapping back on itself, cleaning a wide swathe of the courtyard of the maggots.

  ‘I’m glad I’m not on the receiving end of that,’ said Mel.

  ‘That really was an inspired idea of yours, Mel,’ said Wren as Munchie collected and swallowed whole scores of the fat worms.

  ‘What about me?’ said Ludo. ‘Munchie wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.’

  ‘Well done, both of you.’ Wren shook her head. ‘Boys.’

  ‘Er, Wren, Ludo. Look at Munchie. She’s changing.’

  Munchie’s scales had begun to swell. Before, they had lain sleek and flat against her body but now they were globular like pearls. They then elongated into sharp spines until she was covered in them like a sea-urchin. The crest on her head transformed into a sharp horn and the loose skin around her neck became a broad frill that also bristled with spines. Long spikes grew from the end of her tail. Her white complexion vanished, to be replaced by vivid streaks of colour that flashed over her hide, rapidly changing shape. Her eyes lost their appealing, doe-like quality, and sharp teeth appeared in rows in her jaws.

  Munchie grew visibly as she ate more and more of the fat maggots and her demeanour changed into something decidedly unpleasant. Within a short space of time, there were no more worms left but Munchie was obviously still hungry. She stared at Mel, Ludo and Wren balefully.

  ‘I’ve a funny feeling that getting rid of the worms will turn out to be the least of our worries,’ said Ludo.

  ‘She’s coming this way,’ said Wren.

  ‘Back away slowly,’ said Mel. ‘Make for the door. Try not to make any sudden moves.’

  ‘Scrot to that. Run!’ shouted Ludo.

  Munchie broke into a lumbering gallop.

  They just made it to the mansion before a fat, sticky tongue splashed against the jamb. They slammed the door behind them and braced their backs against it, holding it shut as Munchie rammed it.

  ‘What do we do now?’ asked Wren.

  ‘We have to get her back inside the picture somehow,’ said Mel. ‘She still has the leash attached. Ludo, you’re going to have to grab it and lead her back to the passageway.’

  Thump! Munchie rammed the door again.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘You’re the only one with any control over her,’ said Wren.

  ‘It was Mel who fetched her; he should take her back. It was all his idea.’

  Thump! The door shivered.

  ‘Ludo, we’re a
ll in this together,’ said Wren. ‘If we don’t do something very soon, we’ll be caught. I’ll lose my job and you and Mel will be thrown out.’

  ‘Getting thrown out may be better than being ripped to pieces by – ’

  Ludo was cut short as the door finally gave way. Silhouetted against the shattered doorway, and eyeing them malevolently, was Munchie. She advanced towards Wren as she got back to her feet.

  ‘Wren, your pinafore!’ shouted Mel.

  Wren looked down and saw several pale chromophages still attached to her.

  She flapped her apron and the maggots flew off, to be instantly captured by Munchie’s long, sticky tongue in a whiplash motion. ‘You two. There’re more on your hose,’ cried Wren.

  Mel and Ludo quickly brushed them off. The chromophages instantly disappeared on the tip of the vermiraptor’s long tongue.

  ‘Looks like she’s still hungry,’ said Ludo.

  Hissing, the vermiraptor stalked towards Mel.

  ‘Mel. Run!’ shouted Wren. ‘Here, catch!’ She tossed him the little key. ‘Ludo, grab the rope!’

  Wren and Ludo seized Munchie by her leash and attempted to slow her down, but the beast was too strong and pulled them off their feet.

  ‘It’s no good. It’s only Mel she’s interested in,’ said Wren as Munchie dragged them along behind her on their stomachs until they were forced to let go.

  Mel made it to the door to the passageway and opened it. He grabbed the still-lit candle from the small table where they had left it. Once inside, he retraced his steps, shielding the candle flame from the draught with his hand as he ran. He could hear Munchie rapidly padding after him, banging into the sides of the passageway, which was only just wide enough for her new form. The new Munchie no longer had any trouble mounting the stairs. Every now and then, her long tongue would flash out and, once, caught Mel a wet blow on his back. He could feel his doublet being tugged back by the sticky projectile, but he only slowed for a second as his momentum carried him forward.

  Mel climbed higher until he reached the master’s studio and burst in. He went straight to the painting and prepared to unlock it using the secret gesture. The service door into the studio was alive with flashing colours as Munchie arrived. She saw Mel and let out a great croaking howl. It rattled the windows and toppled some articles from a nearby table. Her breath was rank and filled the cool room with a sulphurous reek. Her tongue lashed out and connected with Mel’s doublet just as he formed the symbol and was drawn into the canvas.

  Munchie penetrated the canvas with a powerful bound that carried her past Mel and into the land beyond. He was counting on this and, as she flashed past him, he grabbed her trailing leash and wound it several times around the nearest tree, wedging its end into a cleft. He knew this would not hold her for long and quickly returned to the misty wall, performed the reverse gesture and jumped through.

  Mel stood back in the master’s studio, panting and gagging. He looked at the canvas. Everything appeared the same, except that the image of the gentle, white vermiraptor that had lain so contentedly beneath the tree was now that of a multi-coloured monster with a terrifying mien. There was no way it would go unnoticed. He touched it with a fingertip and found that the paint was wet, while everything else on the canvas was dry. He opened the window wide and took a deep breath. He snatched a spare candle from a table, entered the passageway and made his way back to his friends.

  Another Piece of the Puzzle

  Later that day there was much conjecture in the household as to the cause of the baffling events in the mansion. Some thought that the grey courtyard was the result of a prank by the apprentices. Servants were set to cleaning off the supposed grey paint but without success. It was as if all the colour had been bleached away by magic. Dirk Tot dismissed the idea of a prank. He knew that such a feat was beyond the capabilities of any apprentice and probably beyond those of Ambrosius Blenk as well. Another theory ran that the plants had been infected by some obscure, botanical disease, but that failed to explain why the statues and fountain had also been affected. Most were agreed that the coloured sludge that covered the ground had fallen from the sky. But no one could explain why the sludge had only fallen in that part of the courtyard where the colour had vanished. It was as if the colour had somehow coagulated and dripped off its hosts on to the ground. And no one could deny that it stank dreadfully.

  Everyone was in complete agreement as to the cause of the shattered door: burglars! The only thing that could not be accounted for in the entire household was a cord used to hold back the curtains in the master’s studio. This seemed to be an improbable item of loot but the Watch was summoned and alerted. Assurances were received that the nightly patrols about the district would be stepped up.

  Whatever the cause, the effect was unwelcome and involved lots of additional work for everyone. Gardeners uprooted the ‘diseased’ plants and replaced them, the fountain was re-gilded and carpenters were brought in to repair the shattered door and replace the ruined floorboards. Nothing, alas, could be done to rectify the colour that had disappeared from the statues.

  However improbable the theories about the courtyard were, the Master and Dirk Tot were much more concerned about the change to his painting.

  ‘This is most perplexing. Is it possible that someone else knows the secret?’ asked Ambrosius Blenk.

  ‘No, Master. The only people in the household who know are you, me and the mistress. Are you certain that the painting hasn’t deteriorated in some way?’

  ‘Now you’re sounding like the servants. It’s just not possible. Look, the alterations to my vermiraptor are deliberate.’ The master offered Dirk Tot the magnifying glass he had been using to inspect the painting.

  ‘So it has been altered?’

  ‘Undoubtedly. But not by me.’ Ambrosius Blenk moistened the corner of a rag with turpentine and wiped away the creature’s tail. ‘There’s no original image underneath. It’s just changed of its own accord.’

  Both men knew this was impossible.

  ‘Could it have anything to do with the arrival of Womper, the Fegish boy?’ asked the master.

  ‘I can’t believe that. He’s talented but not that talented. Besides, he’s only been here a few days. He can’t possibly have found out anything.’

  ‘All the same, I think we should keep an eye on him. He reminds me of myself when I was his age. He’s very sharp.’

  ‘Very well, Master.’

  The riddle of the courtyard aside, work for the apprentices continued as normal. For Mel that meant more scrubbing and torment at the hands of Groot. The end of the working day came as a welcome relief.

  After supper the friends reassembled inside the clock.

  ‘Do you think we’ve got away with it?’ asked Ludo anxiously.

  ‘I don’t know, Ludo. There’re all kinds of ideas floating around the servants’ hall but none of them are anywhere near the truth,’ said Wren.

  ‘That’s just as well,’ said Mel. ‘I think Dirk Tot suspects something though. He’s been giving me funny looks. And the master must have seen the new addition to his painting. My guess is it won’t be as easy for any of us to go there again.’

  ‘I don’t want to go there again,’ said Ludo. ‘I don’t want any more to do with this.’ He unconsciously rubbed his leg where he had been wounded.

  ‘But there’s so much we need to find out. Why is Dirk Tot in league with the Fifth Mystery? Why are the coloured men living inside the paintings? We need you, Ludo; you’ve been here longer than either of us,’ coaxed Wren.

  ‘No one’s going to force you to do anything you don’t want to,’ said Mel. ‘But we still have to get a good look inside Dirk Tot’s study. You can help us with that, surely?’

  ‘I don’t know. What if we meet somebody while we’re in the passages?’

  ‘I’ll go on ahead and make sure that the coast is clear. I know the way by now,’ said Mel. ‘You and Wren can follow on behind if it’s safe.’

  �
��I don’t know ….’

  ‘Come on, Ludo,’ said Wren.

  Ludo looked at his friends. ‘I suppose so. We’re all in this together, aren’t we?’

  Five minutes after Mel had gone Wren said, ‘If he’d met anyone in there he would have been back to warn us by now. Let’s go.’

  ‘Wren, I ….’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be right beside you all the way.’

  Once inside the passageway Ludo began to tremble. ‘You’re not up to this, are you?’ said Wren.

  ‘I want to, Wren. I really do ….’ Ludo looked sick.

  ‘Come on, I’ll let you out. You’ve been through a lot lately.’

  Normally cautious, Wren would have opened the door a crack to make sure they could emerge unobserved, but in her concern for Ludo’s well-being she forgot this simple precaution.

  ‘What’re you two up to?’ It was Groot and he was drunk. He grabbed them firmly by their arms as they emerged. ‘What’s in there?’ He nodded at the open passageway. ‘Where’s Smell? You three are as thick as thieves.’

  ‘Look who’s talking,’ said Wren under her breath.

  ‘What?’ Groot narrowed his eyes. ‘He’s in there, isn’t he?’ Groot nodded towards the passageway.

  ‘No. Mel was exhausted after all of that stupid scrubbing you’ve put him to. He’s gone straight to bed,’ said Wren. ‘He’s in the dormitory right now. Go and see for yourself if you don’t believe me.’

  Groot looked at Ludo, who refused to meet his gaze. ‘That’s just what I will do. You, get back to the kitchen, where you belong. I’ll be telling Cook about this. Ludo, I’ll deal with you later. Leave the door,’ he said as Wren tried to close it. He confiscated their candles and key and watched them until they were out of sight.

  ‘Gone to bed? Like skeg he has,’ he said to himself. He stepped unsteadily inside the open passage.

  Mel could not read the nameplate on the door but he recognised the shape the letters made as belonging to Dirk Tot’s study. He could not hear anything inside so he opened it a crack. The room was deserted. He entered, leaving the door ajar. He had no idea where to start or even what he was looking for.