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Authors: Emma Carroll

BOOK: Strange Star
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Being in the tunnel wasn’t too bad at first. It was so narrow I could touch the walls on either side without even stretching out my arms, but knowing there was an open door behind us helped me stay calm. Then, twenty yards or so in, we seemed to drop down further. The air grew colder. Peg’s light guttered furiously.

‘Careful, there’s another step,’ said Peg, slowing her pace. Then a few yards on, ‘The tunnel goes sharp right here.’

I almost wished she hadn’t said so, for once we’d turned the corner that door was no longer behind us and the walls seemed to close in just that bit more. The damp smell grew so I could almost taste it. Cobwebs tickled my cheeks. And the air was so thick it caught in my throat. Something darted over my foot. I felt another vermin-sized body brush past my ankle. Just ahead of me, Peg gave a loud gasp.

‘Rats! They’re big ones, Lizzie.’

I hesitated. Rats had never bothered me, not like they did Mercy, who’d squeal at the sight of one. This was different. I couldn’t tell where they were, not until they touched me. It made me want to turn tail and run. But run
where
? It was either back to the cellar or keep going. Suddenly neither seemed much of an option.

‘Don’t stop. Keep moving,’ I said. ‘Wave your light at them if they come too close.’

Poor Peg did her best. In one hand she held her rushlight aloft. In the other, she gripped my fingers so hard they went numb. Step by step we inched along the tunnel.

‘They’re as big as cats!’ Peg said.

‘Don’t be silly,’ I said. ‘How
can
they be?’

Peg lunged forward. ‘Get back!’ she cried, waving the light in front of her with such force it went out.

Something muscular squirmed past my leg.

‘It came up to my knee! I swear it did!’ I cried.

As Peg took off in panic, I was right behind. The darkness didn’t matter nor that we’d no idea where we were heading. All we cared about was running. Away from the rats. Away from the cellar. Away from Mr Walton.

We kept going for what felt like miles. Upwards, downwards. The damp-smelling tunnel seemed never-ending. And then, quite suddenly the air grew warmer. The darkness turned a murky grey.

‘Is that a door up ahead?’ I asked, panting for breath.

‘Think so. It’s got light round its edges.’

As we got closer, Peg was all for bursting straight through the door but I held her back.

‘Wait a second,’ I whispered. ‘We don’t know where it goes. We don’t want to rush out and get caught, do we?’

Mr Walton probably had an office or a library or something, and it would be just our luck that this door opened straight into it. An hour or so ago this might’ve been helpful. But Da’s note wasn’t important any more. What mattered was getting Peg out of here, away from whatever Mr Walton was planning to do with her.

‘Let me listen at the door.’ Gesturing for Peg to step aside, I pressed my ear against the wood. All I heard was silence. And Peg breathing heavily at my shoulder.

‘I can’t hear nothing over you huffing and puffing,’ I said.

She drew a single, sharp breath. Something was
scuttling towards us. I heard rustling. Scratching. Peg flung her arms around my waist.

‘Oh, Lizzie!’ she squealed. ‘It’s those rats again! Loads of them!’

‘Shh! Keep quiet.’

But she pressed her face into my frock and started to sob. Something terrifyingly large lumbered across my feet. Another brushed against my ankles. Then a surge of fur and muscle writhed past our legs.

‘There’s so many!’ I gasped in horror.

Peg’s sobs fast became wails, echoing off the tunnel. All the while, I tried to tell her to shush, that it would be all right, but I sensed something scampering vertically up the wall just inches from my face. Close enough to feel a flick of tail against my chin. To hear the skitter of claws. And when my hair began to move and I felt whiskers tickle my ear, I panicked.

With all my might, I flew at the door. It gave way against my shoulder. The force sent me stumbling out into daylight, Peg still hugging my waist. I kicked the door shut behind us. Then, loosening Peg’s grip, I took a lungful of air. Beat by beat, my heart began to slow. I still couldn’t hear anyone. The room, or wherever we were, felt empty. It smelled strange too, of something
I couldn’t name. It was strong enough to make my nose tingle.

‘Where are we?’ I whispered.

‘Don’t know,’ said Peg. ‘It’s got shelves on the walls like a library but …’

‘But what?’

‘They aren’t books on the shelves. They’re jars with things in them, like when we pickle vegetables for winter, only these things, well …’ She paused. ‘They aren’t vegetables, either.’

‘What are they?’ Though, from her shocked tones, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

Peg hugged me tight. ‘Oh, Lizzie! They’re queer, horrible things, like baby animals and birds and toads with two heads!’

What I’d suspected in that cage outside was bad enough. But this filled me with a new disgust. In that single moment, I was almost glad I couldn’t see the shelves. Then it all bloomed inside my head anyway: jars of dark fluid and floating inside them, little, fish-like bodies, their white flesh pressed against the glass.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ I said, prising Peg off me and taking her hand. ‘But please, not back through that tunnel.’

‘There’s another door. We’ll go that way,’ said Peg.

I nodded. If it took us out into a hall then we’d creep along it, silent as mice. But before we’d even reached the door, it opened.

‘… for goodness’ sake! Put her in a bedroom, not a cellar! We want the child alive and well, not sick with fever, or worse,’ said a woman, clearly scolding someone. ‘It’s what our guests have come to see. And if the weather
is
turning and we get a storm tonight, then …’

Two sets of footsteps came to a halt in front of us.

‘Oh! Gracious!’ the woman cried.

The other voice was Mr Walton’s. ‘What on earth? How did
you
get in here?’

Making sure Peg was tucked safely behind me, I stood tall. I was seething. And terrified. Though I didn’t want him to see it.

‘We’re going home, Mr Walton. Our da’s been worried sick about where Peg’s been,’ I said.

‘Can’t keep that nose of yours out of anything, can you?’ he cried.

‘She doesn’t wish to stay and be part of your “surprise”. She’s proper upset, she is. But luckily for her, you hid her in a cellar with a secret passage connected to it, so we got out just in time.’

‘What nonsense! That cellar was perfectly secure.’ But I could hear him flustering.

‘If you’ll excuse us,’ I said. ‘Come on, Peg.’

As I went to walk past him his hand shot out and grabbed my upper arm, pinching the skin between his fingers.

‘Release your sister at once!’ Mr Walton said.

‘Get off me!’ Pulling back, I twisted and squirmed whilst desperately trying to hold onto Peg.

‘Stop this minute! All of you!’ cried the woman.

She spoke with such authority, I knew at once she was the same person who’d been with Mr Walton that night on Mill Lane.

‘Let go of both girls this instant,’ she said.

Tutting angrily, Mr Walton shoved us away from him. I put my arm around Peg’s shoulders. Whoever this woman was,
she
was the person giving orders to him, not the other way round. And now she’d saved us from his clutches. I reckoned I owed her a thank you.

I cleared my throat. ‘Miss …’

‘Stine. Francesca Stine.’

She must’ve moved for I caught a waft of her scent. It was the same as this room’s, chemical and eye-wateringly strong.

‘Miss, I’m taking my sister home,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what Mr Walton was planning to do with Peg, but we aren’t staying to find out. And my poor da’s beside himself with worry so the sooner we get home, the better.’

I half expected a gasp of horror. A sympathetic cry. Maybe even a call to bring the carriage round to the front and drive us back to Sweepfield.

Instead, Miss Stine said, ‘Peg? Did you just call your sister
Peg
?’

I frowned. ‘That’s her name.’

She made an irritable sound in her throat. Her skirts swished as she turned away from us then back again.

‘You idiot!’ Her voice was a low, furious rumble. ‘You absolute, incompetent idiot!’

My mouth fell open. ‘There’s no need to call me—’

‘Not you!’ she spat. ‘
Him!

Mr Walton, who’d gone eerily quiet, drew a breath as if he was about to explain himself. I’d still no real idea what this was concerning. But I had second thoughts about thanking anyone now.

‘Excuse us,’ I said. ‘We’re leaving.’

We managed two steps before Miss Stine took hold of my wrist.

‘Not so fast,’ she said. ‘I told Mr Walton to bring me Lizzie Appleby – the famous lightning child. Can you believe it? All this effort, all this secrecy. And the idiot brought me the wrong girl!’

‘No, miss, you’re mistaken,’ I stuttered.

Even so, I directed Peg to stand safely behind me again.

‘I’m not mistaken,’ Miss Stine said. ‘Since being in Sweepfield, I’ve heard your story and it interests me greatly.’

This might’ve been a compliment for some people. But to me, who’d endured more than my fair share of being pointed at and talked about, it made my heart sink.

‘I’m someone who lost her mam and her eyesight, that’s my
story
,’ I said, bitterly.

‘But I’d no idea
this
girl was blind!’ Mr Walton cut in. I sensed he was pointing at me. ‘She wanders the streets at night, snoops about up here. And she looks right at me when I speak. It’s the other girl, the little one who seized our other specimen, that
I
thought—’

‘Save your excuses.’ Miss Stine interrupted him.
‘Lizzie, how would you like to stay at Eden Court for a few days to help me in my work?’ She sounded excited.

‘What,
here
?’

‘Yes.’

I was aware of Peg clinging to my dress. On my left, Miss Stine’s cool fingers circled my wrist. And behind us those jars of deformed creatures, and Mr Walton breathing short, impatient breaths through his nose.

‘No, miss,’ I said. ‘We must get home.’

Her grip on my wrist tightened. ‘So must I, Lizzie. I’m needed back in London but I’m staying on at Eden Court solely to find out more about what happened to you in that lightning storm. So you really must help me. My future ambitions could depend on it.’

‘You want to find out … about
me
?’ I didn’t much want to think about that day. And I certainly didn’t want to talk about it to a stranger.

Yet there was something about the way she asked. She was showing an interest in me – not in a whispering-behind-hands kind of way, but because she wanted to hear the truth.

‘Yes,’ Miss Stine said. ‘I’m a scientist, an anatomist. I study how the human body works, and recently I’ve become very interested in electricity. You’ll see how important you are to my work soon enough.’

My mouth dropped. ‘So
you’re
the scientist?’

All this time I’d been certain it was Mr Walton. So had most of Sweepfield.

‘How can that be, Miss Stine?’ Peg sounded as confused as I felt. ‘You’re a … umm … well … a
girl
.’

Miss Stine gave a little laugh. ‘I’m a bit older than a girl, but you’re right, this work is mostly done by men. It’s made things hard for me. People see a person in skirts and –
whoosh
– they make assumptions about how I should be. Never mind that I might be on the brink of an amazing discovery. What matters most is how I look.’

I nodded: I knew what that felt like.

‘It’s why I hide myself away most of the time,’ said Miss Stine. ‘But don’t be afraid, Lizzie. You’ll be safe here.’

‘What about him, though?’ I nodded in the direction of Mr Walton. ‘He had our Peg locked up in a cellar.’

‘I told him to keep her hidden but I’d had no idea he’d put her down there. I can only apologise.’ She sounded suitably ashamed. ‘Mr Walton, my assistant, was a little over-enthusiastic in his duties yesterday. He will follow orders more closely from now on.’

Mr Walton coughed uncomfortably. Despite his expensive voice and smart clothes, he was, in fact, a
servant. It wasn’t him who had rented Eden Court, but Miss Stine, and it made me braver somehow, because whatever threats he’d made, he wasn’t lord and master, after all.

Yet still I couldn’t shake off the sense that something wasn’t right. If Mr Walton was working
for
Miss Stine, then how nasty did that make her? And this troubled me the most, because she didn’t seem very nasty at all.

‘We really can’t stay, miss,’ I said. ‘Da will wonder where we’ve got to.’ Which wasn’t true; he’d be in Bristol by now and the lie made me flush.

‘We’ll send word to your father. Peg can take a message.’

At this, Peg buried her face in my ribs. ‘I’m not going nowhere without you, Lizzie!’

‘Come now, no tears,’ Miss Stine said.

‘Hush, Peg,’ I said, trying desperately to think of a solution. If only Isaac hadn’t disappeared like that, then he could’ve taken her to Mercy’s.

‘I won’t go back to Sweepfield on my own,’ Peg insisted. ‘Everyone there hates me. If you try to send me, I swear I’ll run away again!’

Which was no sort of answer. I think Miss Stine realised it too.

‘I know!’ she said, as if the idea surprised her. ‘Why
don’t you both stay? It could be of great help. You’ll be perfectly safe.’

It was the second time she’d mentioned our safety.

‘You promise?’ I said.

‘Absolutely. Have no fear.’

She’d shifted position a little so the light was behind her, which meant I could just about see her outline. She was small for a grown-up – not much taller than Mercy.

‘You want to
study
me?’ I asked again.

‘Exactly I am on the brink of a discovery so …’ she searched for the word, ‘…
incredible
, it will change the course of science, of HISTORY! Wouldn’t you like to be part of that with me, Lizzie? Wouldn’t you like to be FAMOUS?’

Behind us, Mr Walton shuffled his feet. My stomach did a nervous clench.

‘I don’t fancy it much, to be honest,’ I muttered.

All I’d ever wanted from life was to work hard and keep geese and eat supper each night at a table with those I loved. Yet how could I explain it to someone like her who wanted so much more?

I took a deep breath and tried.

‘I don’t want any more attention, miss. I don’t want people always pointing at me in the street. I just want to
be
, like I was before …’ I couldn’t say the rest. Not
the words ‘accident’ or ‘lightning strike’ or ‘blindness’, or ‘my mother dead in the snow’. In my mouth they’d turned to dust.

‘Lizzie, your life
has
changed. It won’t ever be the same, so it’s pointless to wish for it.’

‘But …’ I tried to protest.

‘What I’m working towards is something miraculous.’ She talked me down. ‘Something so ambitious that will one day it will save the lives of our loved ones. Or perhaps even bring back those who’ve already died.’

‘Oh … goodness …’

Was she serious? Could science
do
that?

It was a stunning and completely terrifying idea, and for a moment my head went dizzy. Then I remembered what Da had said about Mr Walton’s work. He’d called him a genius and said one day he’d be famous the world over. Which must mean Da didn’t know of Miss Stine’s existence. But for that night on Mill Lane, she really had stayed hidden away, doing her work in secret.

‘The world doesn’t care for female scientists, you know,’ Miss Stine said. ‘My research could change all that forever. It could prove that women are just as intelligent, just as hungry to achieve as men. We wouldn’t be solely wives and mothers and sisters and daughters.
Our
names would be on statues, on
monuments, written in the history books. Think of
that
, Lizzie.’

It sounded incredible. And the way she seemed willing to share all this made me feel important, like I was to be trusted with her biggest, wildest dreams.

‘But my da won’t like us being here,’ I said, unsure what else to say. ‘He told me to come straight home.’

‘Don’t fret, I’ll pay very handsomely for your time,’ Miss Stine replied.

It was getting harder to refuse. With this cold, wet spring there was already talk of crops failing and food prices rising. As well as finding Peg safe and sound, Da would be pleased if we earned a bit of coin.

‘You’ll be working for me just as your father does making my shelves, though he believes they’re for Mr Walton, which keeps things simpler,’ Miss Stine added. ‘So what do you think?
Do
say yes.’

The sensible thing would be to say no and go home. Yet still I dithered. These past few minutes Miss Stine had spoken to me as if I was someone worth knowing. Something had shifted, like a fast-asleep part of me had woken up at last.

‘Oh, and Lizzie,’ Miss Stine said before I had a chance to speak. ‘We have other guests too – important people from London with modern ideas like mine.
They’re travelling to Europe and have stopped in on their way. I want you to meet them tomorrow.’

I gulped. ‘Oh … I mean … gosh.’ It sounded terrifying and yet a thrill of excitement ran through me.

‘So, will you accept my invitation to stay? Will you two also be my guests?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ I said, trying not to grin. ‘Yes, all right.’

Though it didn’t seem I had much choice in the matter, either: she still had hold of my wrist.

*

A maid called Ruth was summoned to escort us to a bedchamber upstairs.

‘Miss Stine’s put you in a room at the top of the house,’ she said. It was the same woman who’d earlier answered the front door to me. ‘A smart room it is too,’ she added with a sniff.

‘What’s eating her?’ Peg whispered, as we followed her up countless flights of stairs. ‘She looks awful grim.’

I prodded Peg for being cheeky. ‘She’s busy with those London guests and now she’s got lumped with us, that’s what.’

At the very top of the stairs, we went through a door, then along a twisty passage and down a single
step that nearly sent me flying. At last, we reached our room.

‘This is yours,’ said Ruth, opening the door. ‘Though why you’re still here, I don’t know. You should’ve gone home when you could.’

I wanted to ask what she meant. But by now Peg had pushed her way past us both and was squealing in delight at our bedchamber. Ruth left without a by your leave.

Not knowing what to make of it all, I hovered in the doorway. Perhaps we should go home. It wasn’t too late to change our minds.

Yet inside the room Peg grew ever louder. She was laughing too, and sounding so joyous that despite my doubts, I couldn’t help but smile. ‘What is it, Peg? What can you see?’

‘It’s wonderful!’ she cried, pulling me across the threshold. ‘It’s the grandest bedchamber I’ve EVER known. And it’s all ours!’

I laughed. ‘For a night or two, maybe. Don’t get too used to it, mind.’

Yet I sensed Peg was right: the room was beautiful. Even the air felt soft and warm and expensive. Any doubts I had began to melt away.

‘The bed is VAST, Lizzie! It’s got curtains draped
around it, and the bedsheets are so white, and the pillows soft feather ones …’ She let go of me and crossed the room. ‘Oh! You can see all sorts out this window.’

‘Like what?’

‘The driveway, stables, trees …’

As she prattled on I heard the joy in her voice, and it made me smile more. ‘’Tis better than that cellar, anyhow.’

‘Oh it really is!’ Peg gasped. ‘There’s a jar of biscuits by the bed, and a roaring fire, and they’ve even left us fresh nightgowns to wear.’

It sounded almost too good to be true.

Kicking off my boots and stockings, I walked barefoot across the carpet towards where patches of grey light indicated the windows. One sash was raised a little, the air coming in smelling damp like rain was on the way. I leant my elbows on the sill and breathed deep.

Ruth was probably exaggerating, I decided. Or irritable and tired. Miss Stine had been polite and charming, and she was oh so clever to be doing such important work. I’d never met a real scientist before, especially not a lady one. And the way she’d spoken, promising things I’d not thought possible, made my own mind flare up like a piece of just-struck tinder. It
was impossible not to be intrigued. Anyway, we’d only be here a few days – and kept in the height of luxury too. I’d be mad not to enjoy myself.

The floor creaked as Peg came to join me at the window.

‘Lizzie,’ she said, sounding serious. ‘I hope Spider’s all right without us.’

‘He’ll be fine. Our house isn’t fancy like this place, and that’s good if you’re a cat because there’s plenty he can catch and eat.’

‘Like spiders,’ Peg agreed.

‘And flies.’

‘And mice.’

‘And the pie Mercy brought this morning …’

A noise drifted in through the open window. I stopped to listen. The sound made my blood chill.

Peg heard it too. ‘What was
that
?’

I didn’t answer; I didn’t know how to.

It was the howl of the wild animal. And a reminder: not all guests here at Eden Court were of the human kind.

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