The Extincts Page 10

  “Hello,” she said, taking out one earbud. “Mum’s gone to her yoga class. Don’t I know that dog?”

  Prudence was carrying Doom in her arms. We had parked Daisy at the back of the shop, where nobody goes.

  “We’re just taking him for a walk,” I said vaguely.

  I was looking at Mum’s crystal ball. She bought it at a yard sale from a woman who said it had belonged to her great-great-grandmother who was a fortune-teller, and that it really worked. Nobody believed her except Mum, who paid her a lot of money and keeps the ball in the shop, on a little table covered in red velvet.

  “Harry, can we borrow that cloth? We’ll bring it back.”

  Harry looked a bit surprised, but she didn’t say we couldn’t.

  I had gathered up the velvet and was just putting the ball back in place when I glanced out the window—just in time to see a convertible pink sports car, pulling up on the double yellow lines outside. I froze. Diamond’s guessed, I thought. She knows Prudence is with me. And she’s found out this is Mum’s shop. I grabbed Prudence and made a dash for the bead curtain at the back of the shop. Behind it there’s a poky little room with a cracked sink where Mum keeps her stock.

  “Harry, if somebody comes in and asks—someone with a lollipop—you haven’t seen us!” I said urgently. “We’re not here! It really, really matters. It’s life-or-death!”

  “Oh? What’s it worth?” said Harry.

  Shoving Prudence and Doom through the bead curtain, I pulled a packet of Cheesy Snake Snacks out of my pocket. They had been there since recess, when Fazal had swapped them for some soccer stickers. They were a bit squashed, but Harry loves Cheesy Snake Snacks. She shrugged and held out her hand.

  We were only just in time. The beads were still rattling when the wind chimes tinkled.

  “What a quaint little shop,” said a voice I did not at all want to hear.

  “Nnnghh,” said Mump. “Smell!”

  “That’s the incense,” explained Harry. “It’s called Sea Mist. Can I help you?”

  “I’ve lost my little daughter.” Diamond heaved a big pretend sigh, as if she really cared. “I’ve been looking everywhere for her. Eleven years old. Red hair. Not that pretty, I’m afraid—rather like a startled antelope. Have you seen her?”

  Crouched behind a stack of cardboard boxes, Prudence and I held our breath.

  Harry didn’t let us down.

  “There was a man who looked a lot like a walrus,” she said. “And a woman who looked a bit like a mouse. No one who looked like any kind of antelope. Sorry.”

  “Oh dear,” said Diamond. “My little girl is very precious to me, you see. Children are such a worry!”

  “You need to relax,” said Harry. “You should buy some incense sticks—lavender’s good for stress—and a nice whale song CD. Eleven is quite old. I expect your daughter can look after herself. My brother’s eleven and we don’t fuss about him.”

  “Ah, yes.” Diamond’s voice was as smooth as custard. “Your little brother…”

  She was interrupted by Doom. He had been growing more and more fidgety in Prudence’s arms; now he broke free and disappeared through the bead curtain. We could hear his claws as he scampered across the shop floor.

  “Nnnghh,” said Mump. “Dog!”

  “About the right size for a footstool,” said Diamond.

  “No!” That was Harry’s voice. “Not in the window! Bad dog! Oh, gross! That stinks!”

  Even the Sea Mist couldn’t hide it. The smell drifted all the way to the back of the shop. Our noses wrinkled. Doom must have been desperate.

  “If you wanted to have it stuffed,” said Diamond, “I could do it quite cheaply. Most of my customers agree their pets are much less trouble that way.”

  There was a flurry of yapping, followed by muffled growls. We heard Harry cry out, and her footsteps as she ran out from behind the counter.

  “No attacking the mermaid!” she cried. “Stop it! Drop it! Bad, bad dog! Oh, look what you’ve done to its tail!”

  Wind chimes were tinkling. It wasn’t the door this time; it was Diamond laughing. “I wouldn’t worry about that ratty old mermaid,” she told Harry. “I can make you a new one, much more lifelike. But first, I need to find my daughter…”

  * * *

  “They’re gone,” said Harry, parting the bead curtain a few minutes later. “You can come out now—and clean up the mess that dog has made!”

  We got rid of the dog doo, and smoothed out the sand, but there was nothing we could do to hide what had happened to the mermaid. Her tail was in shreds. She looked as if she had been attacked by a school of piranhas. All we could do was sweep up all the little scraps of silver, and hope that Mum came back nice and chill from her yoga.

  Harry gave us each a Cheesy Snake Snack, which was kind of her in the circumstances. Cheesy Snake Snacks don’t look much like snakes, but there’s a picture of a snake on the package: a curly-wurly brightly colored one.

  “Do you think the Squermington Wyrm looks like that?” said Harry, with her mouth full. “Have you heard? It’s gotten bored with dogs and cats. It’s eating children now.”

  “It’s what?”

  “See for yourself.” Harry pushed the newspaper across the counter.

  There, on the cover, was a picture of a round-faced little girl with pigtails.

  SNATCHED FROM HER OWN GARDEN! SQUERMINGTON WYRM STEALS CHILD!

  Little Lily Lamprey was playing happily in the garden at her home on Blackberry Terrace when she suddenly disappeared.

  “It was that dreadful Wyrm that took her,” said her mother, Mrs. Lamprey. “I know it was.”

  “Someone needs to hunt that monster down and kill it,” said Mr. Spike Hardman, who lives next door to the Lampreys. “If I find it, I’ll chop it into a thousand pieces.”

  Police are searching the area for clues.

  I pushed the paper back at Harry and picked up my schoolbag.

  “Come on,” I told Prudence. “We have to get to Wormestall. Fast.”

  “Wait a minute,” objected Harry. “You haven’t told me what’s going on.” She looked at Prudence. “Was that woman your mother?”

  “Stepmother,” corrected Prudence.

  “Like the ones in fairy tales, only much, much worse.” I scooped up Doom. “I’ll explain later, Harry. Just eat your Cheesy Snake Snacks.”

  ELEVEN

  IT’S NOT EASY running when you’ve got a shopping cart full of a petrified woman and a daft dog, and it’s pouring rain.

  We took turns pushing, swapping over when we got too breathless. The cart had a wonky wheel—it didn’t like going in a straight line and kept wanting to turn left, which made it hard to steer. The wet pavements were slippery. Cars whooshed by, spraying us with puddle water, but at least none of them was pink. The wind got under the red velvet, making it swell and flap. As we turned a corner, a sudden strong gust blew it aside, leaving Daisy’s ghostly legs sticking up in the air for everyone to see. Luckily, the only people around were in such a hurry to get where they were going, out of the rain, they didn’t look up from under their umbrellas.

  * * *

  By the time we got to Wormestall, we were soaked and exhausted. As we bumped the cart up the track, the sun was shining. Everywhere else there were gray clouds, but the farm sat under a circle of blue sky. The aurochs were grazing peacefully. Lo was in Big Nigel’s field with a bucket of grains and a cheese grater. He rattled the bucket, but the unicorn had seen the grater and cantered away from him, shaking his head and kicking up his back hooves.

  “Anyone would think it hurt him, having his horn grated,” said Lo crossly. “We need more alicorn. Mrs. Lind’s bones ache in the wet weather.”

  I looked up at the ring of blue sky.

  “Is that why you pushed the rain away, to make her feel better?”

  Lo shrugged. Nobody ever talked about his tricks with the weather, but it only ever seemed to rain at Wormestall when everybody was busy indoors, or when o
ne of Grissel’s fires needed putting out.

  “You found her, then,” he said, nodding at Prudence. “Why is that rabbit barking?”

  “It’s not a rabbit. It’s a dog,” I said. “His name is Doom and he belongs to Crazy Daisy and she’s been turned into stone.” I pulled the cloth off the cart. “And here she is. We had to move her before anyone saw. And Mortifer’s eaten a little girl, and now people want to chop him into a thousand pieces.”

  “I expect he was hungry,” said Lo.

  Prudence stroked Doom’s ears. “So … he does eat people, then? Not just restaurant takeout food?”

  “Of course he eats people. Why wouldn’t he? They’re delicious. You and I eat meat,” he pointed out. “That dog eats meat. So does Mortifer. There’s nothing special about humans. They just make more fuss. You have to feel sorry for basilisks,” he added. “Think about it. It’s not easy when your dinner keeps turning into stone. Their only chance of getting fresh meat is to take it by surprise—maybe when it’s sleeping. The easiest thing is to find one that’s had too much to drink. They can’t see straight, and they fall asleep in odd places. But they don’t taste so good. Sweat and vinegar.” Lo made a face. “Not my favorite flavor.”

  Prudence and I looked at each other. Was he joking? You just never knew with Lo.

  * * *

  Mrs. Lind was in the kitchen. You could tell, from a long way off, that she had been boiling up another batch of Depetrifaction Ointment. We left Daisy by the back door with Doom to guard her.

  The Ping Feng piglet had burrowed under its blanket to escape the stink. The Early Mammal had curled itself around the brim of Mrs. Lind’s hat, with its head buried under a banana skin. Only Dido seemed unbothered by the fumes, making little chuck-chuck noises as she nestled on her eggs with her eyes half-closed.

  “No sense of smell,” said Lo. “Fortunate bird.”

  “I really think it might work this time.” Mrs. Lind peered hopefully into the depths of her saucepan. “Lo owned up. He cheated with the weasel pee. It wasn’t a weasel. It was Mingus. This time, it’s the right stuff.” She smiled at Prudence. “I am glad George has brought you back to us.”

  “Her stepmother locked her up,” I told them. “Prudence had to climb out a window. And Diamond thinks we’re hiding the Squermington Wyrm. She’ll be coming quite soon, and she’ll stuff anything she finds. She turns animals into pieces of furniture. She’ll probably turn Big Nigel into a sofa.”

  “It’s all my fault.” Prudence hung her head. “I should never have come here!”

  “Nonsense,” said Mrs. Lind briskly. “You couldn’t help coming. Wormestall wanted you, so it drew you here. The farm makes up its own mind about people. If your stepmother does come, she can’t expect to have it all her own way.”

  “But that’s exactly what she does expect,” said Prudence miserably. “And she’s usually right. I should leave.”

  “Before you do,” said Lo, handing her the grater, “you can try getting at Big Nigel. He likes you.”

  We left Doom at Wormestall with Daisy. Prudence kissed him good-bye.

  “I’d like to take you with me,” she told him, “but you’d get stuffed in no time.”

  We walked back through the woods. I didn’t even notice the rustlings and the shadows. I was thinking about Prudence.

  “You could go to the police,” I told her. “I don’t think it’s allowed—locking children up when they’re meant to be at school. Diamond would get into trouble.”

  “Nobody would believe me,” said Prudence. “She and Mintzer would say I was making it all up. Grown-ups always believe other grown-ups, rather than kids. And Diamond’s good at pretending to be nice. She’s had practice—she fooled my dad.”

  “You could run away,” I suggested. “You could stay at Wormestall. Mrs. Lind’s not like other grown-ups. She’ll believe you.”

  Prudence shook her head. “There’d be a fuss. Mrs. Lind wouldn’t want that. I used to think about running away,” she admitted. “When I was little, Dad used to tell me stories about our house here. It was where he lived with Mum before I was born. After the hippopotamus, when it was just me and Diamond, I used to dream about escaping and coming to live there. It’s my house—at least, it will be when I’m eighteen. Then I can tell Diamond to get out and never come back. That’s what I think about when she locks me up. It makes it better.”

  “Isn’t that sort of a long time to wait?” I said “Eighteen’s ages away.”

  “Eighty-four months. Two thousand five hundred and fifty-six days, counting one leap year. Sixty-one thousand, three hundred and forty-four hours. Three million, six hundred and eighty thousand, six hundred and forty minutes. Two hundred and twenty million and something seconds. That was on my last birthday—I work it out every year—so it’s lots less than that now. There’s nothing really dreadful that Diamond can do between now and then. She can’t eat me!”

  “Sweat and vinegar,” I said. “I reckon you’d taste better than that.”

  It’s probably the nicest thing I’ve ever said to a girl.

  Prudence gave me a sideways look. “Lo doesn’t really know what people taste like, does he? I mean … he’s not a cannibal. Right?”

  “You’re only a cannibal,” I said, “if you eat your own sort. I’m not totally sure Lo is … our sort.”

  Prudence stared at me. “You don’t think he’s human?”

  “How should I know? It’s just that we don’t know where he came from—he never says anything about his family, or having ever been to school. You have to admit he’s … different.” I thought of the upstairs bedroom, with its bare mattress and drifting feathers. “The first time I met him, he came in through the window. And have you ever wondered how he gets those stone animals back to Wormestall? I can only barely pick up the rabbit rock. And there’s that thing he does with the weather…”

  A car shot past us. It wasn’t pink, but I heard Prudence’s gasp of fright.

  “I tell you what,” I suggested. “Come back to my house. I’ve got a calculator. We can work out how many days and hours and minutes there are left before you can chuck Diamond out. Then I’ll teach you how to play All-Star Zombie Smackdown.”

  Prudence looked pleased. I wanted her to stay happy, just for a bit, so when we reached the Candy Shop, I stopped.

  “Wait a minute,” I told her.

  Mrs. Lind had paid me for a week’s work. I was rich. I didn’t even have to save up for a bike anymore. The HELP WANTED sign was gone from the window, but there were plenty of FOR SALE and LOST cards, including one saying HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CHILD? underneath a picture of little Lily Lamprey. I left Prudence outside reading the advertisements while I popped into the shop to buy us both some sweets.

  I was only in there for about a minute.

  When I came out, she’d disappeared.

  I was just in time to see a pink car screaming around the corner at the end of the road. I looked at the license plate: 5TUFF U.

  * * *

  “Prudence Pye’s been kidnapped by her stepmother,” I announced when I got home.

  “Nonsense,” said Mum, banging saucepans around. “I’m not in the mood for fairy tales. That dog you brought into the shop ate half my mermaid. Now what am I going to put in the window? Sit down and eat your supper. It’s Creamed Spinach Surprise.”

  I looked at the plate she handed me.

  “What’s the surprise?” I asked.

  “The surprise,” said Mum, “is that you are going to sit down and eat it. Without another word.”

  * * *

  Prudence wasn’t at school the next day.

  “Prudence Pye—absent again,” complained Miss Thripps. “She must be very unhealthy!”

  “There’s nothing wrong with her,” I said. “She’s being kept locked up by her evil stepmother.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, George,” snapped Miss Thripps.

  Nobody believed me. Which meant that there was only one thing to do.

/>   I had to go and rescue Prudence myself.

  * * *

  I got home from school to find Frank taping a package of frozen peas to her leg. She had hurt her ankle playing basketball.

  “I’m in excruciatingly awful agony,” she said. “George, you’ll have to take Sir Crispin for his walk.”

  “No way,” I said. “You sacked me, remember? And Mrs. Poker-Peagrim hates me. She won’t let me anywhere near the fat furball.”

  “Mrs. Poker-Peagrim’s away. She’s visiting her sister. She can’t take Sir Crispin because her sister has this huge ferocious cat, and Sir Crispin wets himself every time he sees it. It’s only for the weekend, so I said I’d look after him. Except now I can’t because I’m in horrendously horrible pain.” She made groaning noises to prove it as she stretched out on the sofa and reached for the remote control. “So you’ll have to do it.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  I argued until she said that if I walked Sir Crispin she’d take me bowling. I argued a bit more until she said we could have pizza afterward. It seemed like a good moment to give in. Mrs. Poker-Peagrim’s house was on the way to Prudence’s. Sir Crispin and I would rescue her together.

  “And you have remembered about Mum’s birthday, haven’t you?” Frank called after me as I was leaving. “You haven’t forgotten?”

  “Of course I haven’t forgotten,” I said. “Er … when?”

  “Tomorrow, snail-brain. Make sure you get her a present. A proper one. Not soccer stickers, like last year.”

  “That was the year before. I gave her chocolate last year. A whole bar, nearly. Anyway, she liked the soccer stickers. Dad stuck them on the fridge.”

  “Yeah, well, Dad’s not here this year, is he? It’s her first birthday without him. We have to cheer her up.”

  * * *

  Sir Crispin and I started off at a good pace. He trotted along beside me, stopping every few minutes to sniff about and lift his leg. I wasn’t paying much attention; I was busy wondering just how, exactly, we were going to carry out our daring rescue. As he began to get tired, he slowed to a waddle. By the time we turned into Prudence’s road, it felt like I was dragging a dead weight. My arm was aching.