The Amphiblets (6 page)

Ed moaned loudly in his sleep. Something was disturbing him – tugging at his body and whispering in his ear. It took him longer than usual to wake up this morning. He felt groggy and was suffering with a terrible headache.

‘Ed! Wake up!’ Riley’s hands were shaking Ed’s shoulders as he tried to wake his brother.

‘What’s the time?’ groaned Ed, who was still half asleep. He opened one eye, then the other.

‘Forget the time,’ snapped Riley, his eyes were dark and overcast with concern.

The sharpness of his tone alerted Ed, who sat up quickly, rubbed his eyes before holding his head, which felt as if it were going to explode. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Will’s not here! And some of his things have gone too!’

‘Well, he can’t be far away,’ said Ed, calmly. ‘Have you checked outside?’

‘Yes,’ said Riley, ‘I’ve checked everywhere, but he’s not here. Something bad has happened to him. And Dad and Hugo have been talking in the study with a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door. I’m itching to barge in there, but Dad will go ballistic, I know he will.’

The boys both jumped when, at that moment, there was a knock on the door. The Professor entered the room, followed by Hugo, who had a swollen red face and eyes as if he had been in a fight. Something was terribly wrong. There was a foreboding moment of silence before the Professor spoke.

‘I’m sorry, boys, but something awful occurred in the early hours of this morning.’

Afraid to interrupt, the boys listened carefully.

‘I knew there was a small risk in allowing you to go to the demonstration yesterday, but I honestly thought you would all be safe. If I had known something like this would happen I would never have suggested it – you must believe me! Unfortunately, I must now pay the terrible price for my decision.’

The boys glanced at one another, wondering what had happened and where their brother was. Surely he should be there with them, listening to what their father was to say.

‘This isn’t very easy for me,’ continued the Professor. ‘Your brother caught an infection during the night and was struggling to breathe. He must have touched someone he shouldn’t have.’

Riley and Ed both remembered Will’s encounter with Ruby the day before.

‘Will was infected with a strain of bacteria that attacked his lungs. As soon as I realised that something was wrong, I rushed him to hospital. Things were looking better; he was improving for a while.’

‘Where is Will?’ asked Ed, anxiously.

‘What’s happened to him?’ Riley butted in.

‘At three o’clock this morning, he stopped breathing.’ The Professor stepped forward and rested his hands on the boys’ shoulders. ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you both this, but your brother died. We tried everything but he didn’t respond …’

The rest of the Professor’s words went unheard. At the words,
your brother died
, Ed and Riley’s previously solid world crumbled to dust, leaving them both speechless and shell shocked. Everything else was insignificant compared with this terrible news, which engulf them in a deep black hole.

Their brother was dead.

Dead!

It was unbelievable!

They turned to each other, faces white. Riley stood rigid, whereas Ed swayed, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him. Riley grabbed hold of his brother and wrapped his arms around him, a rock of support and a shoulder to cry on, creating comfort in the midst of such tragic news. 

Riley had woken that morning sensing that something was wrong and that Will was somehow connected. He had been right. Hugo was fiddling nervously with his fingers and he realised now why the giant’s face was so swollen and blotchy – he had been crying. Riley had never seen Hugo cry, but then they had never lost a family member before. Hugo was staring at the floor, as if he were praying for Will to reappear from the carpet like a genie from a lamp and suddenly hurried from the room as if escaping from a noxious smell. Riley turned to his father, whose eyes were red and who had aged twenty years overnight.

The Professor appeared to want to say more, but instead made a croaking sound and, resting his hand on Riley’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze and followed Hugo, leaving the two boys alone in Ed’s bedroom.

Riley guided Ed to his bed where they both sat. Riley retrieved some tissues from the bedside cabinet and passed them to his distraught brother, who blew his nose loudly.

‘I can’t believe that Will is dead!’ sobbed Ed. ‘Why weren’t we infected too? We went everywhere that he did.’

‘It must have happened when he touched Ruby’s hand,’ suggested Riley, his voice soft and low. ‘He could have caught something then. That’s the only thing I can think of.’

‘But Will’s immune system is stronger than ours,’ Ed pointed out. ‘Dad always says so. He never catches colds like you and me.’ Realising that he was speaking of his brother in the present tense, Ed fell silent.

Heavy-hearted, Riley stared at the wall. ‘I can’t believe Will has gone either.’ He slowly rose and went to the window. ‘I expect him to burst into this room at any moment and laugh at something that he’s done.’

‘How could something like this happen?’ Ed turned away from the window, lay on his side, buried his face deep into the pillow and cried.

Riley watched him enviously, for he had no idea how to express his emotions and had never shed a tear in his entire life. But right now it felt as if a tornado were spinning loose inside his mind and body. He often appeared cold and unsympathetic, but it didn’t mean Will’s death was affecting him any less. It was hard coping with a bubbling pool of emotions that had no outlet through which to be expressed.

With his brother struggling with his grief, Riley left to go to his room.

Over the coming week, life was awkward for everyone. Will’s absence had created a void in the house, leaving it lifeless and quiet without his constant stream of chatter or squeals of delight as he swung around the room. Hugo especially missed the games they had so often played.

Ed found he hadn’t enough energy to get out of bed. He remained there and thought of nothing else but Will. At some point he would drift off to sleep and when he awoke he would think for a moment that the news of Will’s death had been nothing but a bad dream. Then reality would hit him once more.

Will was usually the comedian and, without his jokes, the light in the house dimmed further as the days wore on. Over time no one was feeling any better. In fact, they were beginning to feel a whole lot worse.

Within the same week, something very serious started to happen to Riley and Ed, who began to suspect that they were dying from the same infection that they thought had killed their brother. Their muscles ached and tiredness set in. Simple tasks, such as walking short distances or lifting a drink, had become impossible. All they could do was lie in bed.

The Professor was confounded since he knew the truth concerning Will, who had been sent to live somewhere else.

When bizarre things started happening to the boys’ skin the Professor became increasingly worried. The first sign that something was wrong was when the boys started to itch. It was an annoying itch, which grew progressively worse throughout the day. The next morning their skin felt rough and dry. On the third day it began to peel off in large patches in a repulsive manner. Every morning, the boys woke to find great quantities of dry flaky skin covering their beds.

Then the Professor received a telephone call from Peter Peed.

‘Young William is shredding his skin,’ Peter informed him. ‘I thought you should know in case it happens to the others.’

‘It already has,’ the Professor informed him. ‘I didn’t realise what it was at first.’

‘William was very ill for a number of days before he began to feel better,’ said Peter. ‘How are the other two coping without their brother?’

‘Fine,’ lied the Professor. ‘Just fine.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Is there anything you wanted to ask about the boy?’

‘I … um … no,’ said the Professor. ‘He’s dead to us now. I will not cause more pain to my two remaining children. Life continues and people must move with it.’

‘Wise words,’ commented Peter Peed, with a hint of annoyance in his tone. ‘Well, I shall tell you anyway. William has taken longer to settle in here than I expected. I was in half a mind of whether to bring him back to you …’

‘No! You can’t!’ said the Professor quickly.

‘Why not?’

‘Because as I have already explained to you, he’s dead to us. I have told everyone that he died.’

‘What?’ There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. ‘That’s crazy! Absurd! Why the devil did you do that?’

‘Because I don’t want anything from you. Seeing Will with you would upset me. It’s best he makes a new life with you.’

‘Well, it didn’t have to be this way. You’ve made things very awkward for me. I hope you are happy with yourself.’

‘What was I meant to say?’ growled the Professor. ‘How could I have told them that I sold their brother?’

‘Because its the truth. If you can’t be honest with yourself, what kind of man are you? A coward? You have chosen to hide behind a wed of lies! It was your decision and like I said before – I hope you can live with yourself!’

The Professor hung up abruptly and rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t help but groan in frustration, unaware of a looming presence lingering behind the door that moved quietly away.

Will’s first day in his new home was the strangest experience he could ever recall. He woke up feeling terribly groggy with his head pounding like a rumbling train. He opened his eyes and yawned. Realising that he did not recognise the room he was in, he sat up fast, thinking hard. But for all his questions, he had no answers. He frowned.

‘How did I get here?’ he thought, casting his mind back to the previous evening.

Hugo had entered his room to give him that delicious mug of hot chocolate. Funnily enough, he couldn’t remember Hugo leaving. This left him wondering how he had been moved without his waking up. More to the point,
who
had moved him? And where was he? Whose house was this? Why was he there? Where was his family? Were they in this house as well? Of course, they must be here somewhere. He wouldn’t be here alone, surely.

Despite his worries, the huge, square room was pleasing to the eye. Will liked what he saw; everything was so clean. The huge bed in which he had obviously slept was covered in gleaming white sheets, which shone in the dazzling light that slanted through a narrow gap in the long blue curtains.

Will slipped out of bed. His bare feet tickled on contact with the soft, thick carpet as he wobbled with uncertainty towards a wooden chair a few feet away from the bed. There was a bag resting on it – his bag. Inside he discovered his clothes and personal items.

‘How strange! I don’t remember packing my things,’ he thought.

It’s unnerving to wake up in an unfamiliar place with no idea how you have arrived there. The fact that he hadn’t woken or stirred on the journey puzzled him.

Although he was a little unsettled, the excitement of being somewhere new soon overcame his nerves. At the window, he opened the curtain a fraction. Not a cloud could be seen in the endless blue sky and a carpet of green grass stretched in every direction. A border of majestic trees surrounded a massive garden.

‘It’s better than Professor Kyle’s garden,’ Will thought in awe.

His garden at home was tiny compared to this; this one must be at least a hundred times bigger. It was awesome and Will wished his brothers were with him to share the experience. Stone statues and flowerpots were positioned around the garden and something glistening at the edge of the lawn indicated there was a stream.

In the centre of the garden there were three chairs; two of them were occupied. He smiled.

‘Riley and Ed
are
here!’ he said aloud, dressing quickly to join them.

Outside his room was a long passageway lined with magnificent paintings framed in gold. At the end of the corridor there was a window. Beneath his feet, a thick patterned rug covered the wooden floor. Since the passage to the left led only to a dead end, Will turned right, passing countless doors and calling, ‘Hello!’ in case someone was near. But no one replied.

He came to a wide staircase with an oak bannister. Will did what came most naturally to him. Smiling mischievously, he swung his leg over and held on tight as he slid all the way to the bottom, passing an extensive arched window of multi-coloured stained glass, which created sparkling patterns of the floor.

He slid off the end and breathed in deeply. It was peaceful here. Apart from his breath there was little else to hear. This was nothing like his previous home where there was always some background noise: voices, coughing, sneezing, laughing, the hum of the computer or the annoying ticking of a clock.

He stood in a spacious hall where there was a huge door opposite him; above him hung a sparkling chandelier. A polished table to his left had an old-fashioned telephone placed on top of it. There was also a door leading off to the right and another to the left.

‘Hello! Is anyone there?’

There was no answer so he called again.

To his surprise, an enormous beast came bounding into the hallway from the doorway to his left. Having never seen such an animal before, Will yelled and ran in the opposite direction – through the door on his right, which he slammed as soon as he made it to the other side. There was a loud thud against the door as the animal collided with it. An immediate whimper was followed by a loud frustrated bark.

Will turned the key and breathed a sigh of relief. He was now in a room filled with antique furniture and rugs, and he felt as though he had stepped back in time. A grand oil painting was positioned above the mantelpiece and depicted a man kneeling beside an animal similar to the one he had moments ago encountered. It had a long pink tongue dangling from its mouth. The man wore sunglasses and gloves.

Will made a face. The animal was on friendly terms with the man, yet the one he had narrowly avoided had wanted to tear him to pieces!

Resting on the mantelpiece was a black and white drawing of a young lad with a long fringe that covered his eyes. He wore old-fashioned clothes. Next to the boy stood an elderly man, thin and tall. Will took a step closer. His heart missed a beat. He stared at it for a long while.

There was no mistaking the man – it was his father, Professor Snipes. Then, noticing the date at the bottom of the drawing, Will frowned – it read 1780. His father didn’t appear to be a day older. In fact, he looked the same age now. It couldn’t be his father. That would be impossible!

Since the animal was still barking and clawing at the door, Will took the opportunity to escape through an open window into the garden. This house was a labyrinth and if there were any other scary beasts inside, he would feel happier outside rather than in. Besides, he couldn’t wait to tell his brothers what he had discovered.

He grinned as he crept quietly towards the three chairs that were facing away from him. He would give his brothers the fright of their lives. They always played pranks at home. As soon as he was behind the chairs he cried, ‘Boo!’ as loudly as he could.

‘What the –?’ came a deep startled voice from one of the chairs in front of him.

Another deep voice cried in surprise, at the same time as Will screamed.

He had made a mistake. It wasn’t his brothers sitting in the chairs. It was instead two strangers staring at him in surprise. The one who had been most startled was holding his hand over his heart, his face flustered. It was a while before he stood up, whereas the other man rose to his feet straightaway. He was tall and was wearing black sunglasses and gloves, like the man in the picture.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Will quickly. ‘I thought you were my brothers.’

The face of the taller man softened. ‘Good morning, William. I presume you slept well.’

Will nodded. ‘Who are you?’

‘My name is Peter,’ and, pointing to his smaller companion, ‘and this is Robert – my butler.’

Robert stood up. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, young Sir.’

Will shyly shook the outstretched hand but was unsure of what to say.

‘I was at the convention yesterday,’ Peter continued. ‘You might have seen me there. I certainly couldn’t help but notice you. You are quite the stuntman, aren’t you?’

Will smiled bashfully and shrugged.

‘I told you he was a fine lad, Robert.’

‘That you did, Sir. He’s mighty handsome, with good manners too.’

‘Yes, manners are something quite rare among children nowadays,’ pondered Peter.

‘Are my brothers still asleep?’ asked Will, shyly.

‘No. I’m sorry to say you won’t find them here,’ said Peter, solemnly, watching Will’s expression.

‘Why? Where are they?’

‘Listen William, there are things I need to explain to you – but not now. We will discuss them over breakfast. Let us go back into the house and eat together.’

‘I don’t want to go back inside there with that strange creature wanting to eat
me
for breakfast.’

Robert laughed. ‘I think young William here must have met Shanks already. I’ll go and tie him up until the lad feels more comfortable. I’ll go and make the breakfasts, while I’m there. See you in a jiffy.’

‘Thanks, Robert,’ said Peter, watching his butler leave towards the house.

‘Shanks?’ said Will.

Peter gave a laugh. ‘Yes, my dog.’

‘Shanks is a dog?’ questioned Will. ‘I saw a dog once, it was nothing like yours.’

‘There are many kinds of dog in the world, William. Shanks is one of them.’

‘He’s so scary!’

‘He’s actually a big softy when you get to know him,’ smiled Peter and, seeing Will’s doubtful expression, added. ‘Honestly, he won’t bite you.’ Peter smiled as he conjured up an image of Shanks running around the house after William. Shanks could be overly playful at times but would never hurt anyone – unless they happened to be a burglar of course.

‘Why am I here?’ asked Will.

Peter took a firm grip of Will’s shoulders. The boy immediately pulled away.

‘You mustn’t touch me or I’ll become ill!’ cried Will.

‘No. You are safe here.’

‘Dad told me never to touch anyone other than him, Hugo, or my brothers,’ insisted Will.

Peter gently bit his lip as if thinking of what to say. The child appeared so vulnerable and small. ‘This may come as a surprise to you but your father told you that in order to make sure you didn’t mix with other people.’

‘Huh?’ asked Will, confused.

‘If you became too familiar with people and started talking to them, you might have discovered the truth of what he’d been hiding from you for the last eight years.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Your father isn’t who you think he is,’ said Peter, carefully watching Will’s expression.

‘I still don’t understand.’

‘I would rather explain everything to you a little later after a bite to eat,’ said Peter.

‘I don’t want anything to eat!’ snapped Will, who hated riddles.

‘Okay.’ Peter raised his hands in defence and slowly lowered them. ‘Professor Snipes is a talented scientist and very shrewd.’

‘I already know he’s a scientist,’ said Will, relaxing.

‘He has used different surnames in the past, such as Brandwell and Heatherton.’

Will made a face. ‘How come?’

‘I have my suspicions. I cannot say any more at present. I need more proof.’

‘Has he done something wrong?’ asked Will.

‘Yes, he has,’ said Peter, quietly.

‘What?’

‘I can not say any more at the present time.’

‘Where are my brothers?’

‘Back home with the Professor.’ Peter took his eyes from Will and stared across the garden.

‘Why am I here without them? And how did I get here?’ Will was overwhelmed by a flood of questions. ‘You know my father, don’t you? I saw a picture of you two together on the mantelpiece in the room that Shank chased me into.’

‘I know the picture you are referring to. It’s not me but a drawing of my great-great-great grandfather. It was drawn over 200 years ago,’ Peter explained.

‘So that man in the picture wasn’t Dad,’ commented Will, wide-eyed. ‘But they’re identical.’

‘They are related,’ said Peter gently.

‘Why am I here?’ asked Will earnestly.

‘What would you say if I told you that your father had sold you to me,’ asked Peter.

Will narrowed his eyes. ‘I wouldn’t believe you!’

‘No, of course you wouldn’t. The idea is too absurd. And if I told you that your father thought it would be nice if you came to stay with me for a while … would that be more believable?’

‘Yeah,’ said Will. ‘But why couldn’t my brothers come with me?’

‘Perhaps he thought it would be a pleasant change for you to come here on your own. A chance for you to discover who you are.’ Peter knew he was putting off telling the truth but he hadn’t the heart at this stage to tell Will everything. The child was only eight years old. The idea of being sold was too diabolical for him to understand.

‘I think I’ll have some breakfast now,’ said Will, seeing Robert waving to them from the kitchen door. He was wearing a white apron over his dark suit.

‘That sounds like a very good idea,’ said Peter.

Together they walked towards the house.

When they entered the kitchen, Will saw that Shanks had been tied up in another room out of his way. Robert had prepared a delicious cheese omelette for them both and Will ate everything, leaving his plate almost as clean as when Robert had first taken it from the cupboard.

After breakfast, Will and Peter spent the rest of the day exploring the eight-bedroom house together and selecting a bedroom for Will to sleep in during his visit. They had a game of hide-and-seek.

Then, after a sandwich and an apple for lunch, they visited the grounds: strolling through the garden and watering the plants. They had time to play on a gigantic swing suspended over an immense pond, which made Will’s stomach turn upside down. They finished at the stables.

‘You didn’t tell me you had horses!’ gasped Will. ‘I’ve only ever seen horses from a distance before. They’re massive when you’re standing next to them.’

‘I have three horses here. The black one is mine. I named him Pedlar. I bought the white one for Robert. She’s called Yepsin. And the chestnut brown one only came here a few days ago, especially for you. Meet Hans, your new horse.’