Flamethroat (39 page)

‘Are you okay?’ I asked as they stretched with pained expressions.

Penny nodded. ‘Oh yes. Returning to normal size is more painful than shrinking.’

‘Painful?’ I asked with wide eyes. ‘Why didn’t you say so before?’

Tom shrugged, nonchalant. ‘You get used to it.’

‘All right, well don’t stay regular-sized for long,’ I said. ‘We will be in the garden. You make your way to the kitchens.’

‘It’ll be a long walk once we’re tiny again,’ Tom said.

‘So get going,’ I ushered them towards the door.

Once again I watched the Truscott’s shrink to only a few inches high. They slipped through a crack in the wall and were out of sight within an instant.

Straightening up, I caught a glimpse of myself in the vanity mirror above the sink. At first, I thought a stranger had stumbled in and caught me with the miniature Truscott’s. But no, the girl with the shocked expression was me.

There was no other word for it. I looked good. I looked at my reflection from several different angles, before remembering that I was not here to admire myself. I quickly left the bathroom and rejoined my friends.

I saw that the staff member lingered in the hall, waiting to chaperone us. We followed him through the manor, until we came to wide French doors that opened onto a vast balcony.

From here I could see an interesting assortment of people and animals. Women floated about the perfectly manicured lawn, with their spirits sitting on their shoulders, or bobbing along at their heels. Gentlemen swaggered around, sipping brandy and chatting about their lives.

‘Stay close to me,’ I said to Hawthorne. He positioned himself so I could place my hand on his shoulder blade. Jack took my hand and together we stepped onto the balcony.

It took a while for our presence to be noticed, but one by one, the other guests began to stare and point at Hawthorne. I knew they found him impressive. We made our way through the garden, keeping an eye out for Martinez, but he didn’t seem to be present.

‘Oh my goodness, he is large,’ said a woman with a big nose.

‘Look at those wings,’ said her husband, who was an extremely vast man.

Hawthorne stretched out his wings impressively and the partygoers ‘ooh’ed and ‘ah’ed.

‘Show off,’ muttered Jack under his breath.

‘May I pat him?’ asked a young man.

‘Does he fly?’ asked his girlfriend.

‘Can I ride him?’

‘How much does he weigh?’

‘Do you shave him?’

Complete strangers bombarded me with questions. I did not like being surrounded by people, nor did I like it when they touched Hawthorne without permission.

‘It seems your animal spirit has drawn quite a crowd,’ said Martinez, looking over Hawthorne. ‘He is an impressive specimen. What do you feed him?’

Turning around I saw that Nicholo Martinez had snuck up on us.

‘He hunts,’ I said.

‘A true beast, then.’ Martinez looked down his curved nose at me.

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. I hated this man more than anything and did not know how to act.

‘I do not believe you have told me your name,’ he pressed.

‘Av-Annie Deacon and this is Hawthorne.’

‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Deacon.’

‘Mrs.’ I corrected. I nudged Jack who had been otherwise occupied by questions regarding Hawthorne’s stamina. He turned to see what I wanted and stiffened at the sight of Martinez.

‘This is my husband, Adam,’ I lied, pointing to Jack.

‘A pleasure. Is that your animal spirit on your shoulder, Mr. Deacon?’ said Martinez.

‘Is it,’ said Jack, his jaw set. ‘Her name is Ræ
ve
n.’

‘Very elegant,’ Martinez smiled. His manners infuriated me. ‘I do hope you enjoy the party. Our parade will begin in half an hour.’

‘Parade?’ I asked.

‘Yes. To showcase our spirits. We do enjoy showing-off our beloved pets,’ said Martinez.

I turned to Jack with a pained expression.

‘Oh, how lovely, dear,’ said Jack, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. ‘Hawthorne does enjoy the attention.’

I looked at Hawthorne who was currently enjoying a scratch behind the ear from a young woman.

‘Mmmh, yes,’ I said, rather unenthusiastic about the idea.

‘I do hope you will participate.’ Martinez gave a small bow before leaving Jack and I to socialise with other guests.

‘Smarmy git,’ said Jack, under his breath.

I put a finger to my lips. ‘Careful,’ I warned.

Jack pulled a face. ‘I hope this doesn’t last long.’

‘Why can’t we put everyone to sleep right now? Ræ
ve
n can take them out,’ I said.

Jack shook his head. ‘It’s too risky. We don’t know everyone’s Powers. There might be some who are immune to her talents.’

I sighed, frustrated. I did not want to bat my eyelashes and be polite to Martinez’s guests. His fortune came from the slave trade. The guests sipped champagne and ate fancy sausages, all paid for with dirty gold. The sight of these strangers made me sick to my stomach.

It was reassuring though, to know that Helena could be mere metres away at this very moment. I wondered what she was doing right now. Probably scrubbing the floors in the dungeon. But for the first time in months, I was close to my little sister. Still, I avoided thinking about what state she would be in when we found her. I wanted to tear through the manor, screaming her name, yet I knew I must be patient.

~

At the beginning of the spirit showcase, Martinez brought out his own animal companion, which he had been saving for this moment. Some of the guests had seen his spirit beforehand, but many had never laid eyes on it. I found myself on tiptoes, trying to get a better look at the beast.

The Vulmessian walked beside Martinez elegantly. She was thinner than Hawthorn and narrow, with cat-like eyes, yet she was definitely fox-like. Her fur was whiter than Hawthorne’s, (probably because he had never been bathed) and her eyes were yellow.

‘This is Emilija,’ Martinez announced to the crowd. ‘One of two Vulmessians currently in existence.’

I felt my face turn pink as many eyes darted my way. A break formed in the crowd and suddenly everyone was staring at Hawthorne and I.

‘But who is she?’ a woman whispered to her husband.

‘She must be loaded too,’ her husband replied.

Suddenly I felt very stupid. Until this point I had taken Hawthorne for granted. I had not stopped to think how unique or special he was. And here I was, surrounded by people who knew much more about animal spirits than I. My story of ‘finding’ Hawthorne would soon fall to pieces. If there was only two Vulmessians in existence, Hawthorne would be worth a fortune.

I looked around at the other animals. There were birds, rodents, dogs and cats. Nothing else came close to the sheer size of Hawthorne, or Emilija.

I noticed Hawthorne’s unusual stance. He was staring at the female Vulmessian, transfixed. At first I thought he was getting ready to attack, but I was very wrong. Hawthorne bounded forward, towards Emilija and began sniffing every inch of her.

‘Hawthorne,’ I scolded. ‘Get back here.’

He ignored me. Hawthorne and Emilija circled each other, sniffing excitedly.

The guests ‘aww’ed as they watched the affection between the two animals. I felt strangely jealous while I observed the union between the two remarkable creatures. It was as though they shared something that I did not understand.

Martinez laughed. ‘I think they like each other.’

The guests chortled along with him. Jack and I were the only pair that did not smile. We did not enjoy Hawthorne fraternising with the enemy’s animal companion.

I cleared my throat loudly, which caught Hawthorne’s attention. Seeing my expression he slinked back to my side sulkily.

‘Shall we begin?’ Martinez said, clapping his hands together.

~

The showcase was tedious. Greying couples paraded around the garden when their names were called and rattled on about their animal spirits, which was, quite frankly, horrendously boring.

Every now and then I looked across the lawn at Martinez to find him staring at Hawthorne or I. It made me extremely uncomfortable and I found myself wondering if he was suspicious of us.

No, that was silly. How could he be? He didn’t even know my real name.

‘Mr. Deacon, you’re next!’ called the announcer of the event.

Jack was impervious to the calls. I had to nudge him several times until he remembered that
he
was Mr. Deacon.

‘Oh yes!’ said Jack, fumbling with his cap. He took Ræ
ve
n in front of the other guests. I could see his brain working furiously. ‘Ahem, well. Hello, I am A-Adam Deacon and this is Ræ
ve
n, my, uh, companion.’

Jack looked at me nervously, hoping for some small indication of what he was meant to say about his ‘spirit’.

A few guests began to mutter behind their hands, but Martinez came to the rescue. I felt my heart beat furiously against my ribcage at the sight of him so close to Jack and Ræ
ve
n.

‘Goodness, she is lovely,’ Martinez said smoothly. ‘What does she do?’

‘Do?’ repeated Jack, ‘Um, yes, well-’

Ræ
ve
n let out a long, beautiful whistle and many of the onlookers gasped.

‘Breathtaking,’ said Martinez.

Ræ
ve
n’s whistle had a calming affect, similar to the effect of her voice, yet much less Powerful when she was in her bird form. The guests applauded politely and Jack quickly left the limelight, his ears rather pink. I knew, as Jack’s ‘wife’ that I would be next in line to showcase my spirit.

‘Mrs. Deacon, if you please,’ the announcer called me forward.

Stumbling slightly on the hem of my dress, I made my way to the front of the gathering, Hawthorne following closely. All eyes were upon me, but I found that I was not nervous. This was nothing. This was easy. If there was one thing I could do, it was talk about how great Hawthorne was. Also, I enjoyed lying quite a bit too.

‘Hello everyone, my name is Annie Deacon and this is my Vulmessian, Hawthorne. As you know, he is one of only two in existence. He is able to carry the weight of two adults whilst flying and is extremely intelligent. He is self-sufficient, catching all of his own food-’

I talked and talked until my mouth was dry and got a modest round of applause once I was done. Martinez watched me closely as I slinked back into the crowd by Jack’s side. Hawthorne continued to stare at Emilija.

~

As the evening wore on, the number of guests dwindled like the afternoon sun against the horizon. The sky was a deep pink by the time there was only ten people left, all of whom were quite elderly. It was at this point that Jack and I decided to initiate our plan.

Some of the manor staff were beginning to clean up the mess the guests had left behind, but we knew there were few enough people for Ræ
ve
n to handle. Martinez was deep in conversation with an old man when we put our plan into action. I had noticed that he had been trying to catch my eye for some time, perhaps to ask us to leave, but I had been avoiding him for the entirety of the afternoon.

When Martinez finally broke away from the old gentleman and made his way towards us, Jack gave Ræ
ve
n the signal.

‘Mrs. Deacon, I wondered if we might have a word-’ Martinez began, before he was cut short.

Many people gasped when Ræ
ve
n the ‘spirit’ transformed into a girl. The old couples may have had a heart attack if it wasn’t for what came next.

Jack and I stuffed the plugs into our ears, cancelling out all noise around us. Ræ
ve
n saw that we were safe and opened her mouth to sing.

I was grateful I could not hear the song she sang, because the effect was instantaneous. Staff collapsed to the ground, the trays of chardonnay in their hands smashing on the floor. Couples slumped over in their seats, passing out instantly. Martinez was by far the most resistant. It took several seconds for the effect of the song to sink in. At first he appeared to be alarmed, but a moment later his eyes drooped and he too fell to the ground. It was as though the entire party had been drugged. Hawthorne looked around nervously, but Ræ
ve
n’s voice didn’t seem to affect him at all.

Jack indicated for Ræ
ve
n and I to follow him. He led us to the manor whilst Ræ
ve
n continued singing. Staff came outside to see what all the commotion was, but stopped dead in their tracks when the sound reached their ears.