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Authors: Simon West-Bulford

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BOOK: The Beasts of Upton Puddle
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“I don't believe so,” came a whisper from the lightbulb.

“Danariel?” Mrs. Merrynether looked up at the light.

“Don't be so harsh on Lilly,” Danariel said, pulling herself out of her glass home and fluttering to Mrs. Merrynether's level. “I warned him about Mr. Huffney.”

“You warned him?”

“Yes, Mr. Huffney is not what he appears to be. Didn't you sense it? Have I not trained you well enough?”

“I sensed some deception, but I sense that in everyone—even in Heinrich and Joseph here.”

Joe, still feeling guilty about Lilly's escape, stepped closer. “Is that why Lilly called him a rotten faker?”

“Yes, Joe,” Danariel said, with a gentle smile. “Mr. Huffney was not from the council as he claimed.”

“Redwar!” Heinrich punched the air. “I bet my socks that Redwar sent him.”

“How clever,” said Danariel, swimming up to the old giant of a man and brushing his cheek with her wings. “Yes, Argoyle Redwar sent him. Though I could not pry deeply into his mind, I sensed Redwar's . . . impression on him.”

“So what's Redwar up to?” Joe asked.

“More scare tactics,” Mrs. Merrynether said. “He wants this place, and he seems to know something of what we do here—enough to realize he mustn't get the
real
authorities involved. Can you imagine what would happen if the government found out that manticores and cluricauns are real? This place would be shut down and sealed off by scientists and black suits galore; then Redwar would never get his grubby hands on anything.”

“But how does Redwar know?”

“That's what concerns me most, Joseph. I chose this mansion in this village because it is so well concealed. Not even the locals know what I do here, so it's a mystery to me that he knows anything at all.”

Heinrich shuffled. “I too would like to know the answer, but we should discuss this later. Flarp was very excited when I left him in the van. We should get him inside.”

“Ah, yes.” Mrs. Merrynether put an arm around Joe's shoulders. “Are you ready to see our next patient? I think you'll like him.”

E
LEVEN

Heinrich loped over to the wall where the TV had been mounted and pulled at several levers sticking out of the floor, grunting with the effort needed to move each one. With the slow grinding and squealing of pulleys, each of the fake wooden walls raised into the ceiling. Like a dizzy firefly, Danariel flitted from one cage to another, apparently interested in how each of the animals was doing.

Much to Joe's relief, Cornelius the manticore was in his enclosure, still clinging to life.

“Is he any better, Mrs. Merrynether?”

Her arm dropped from around his shoulders, and her voice was no more than a whisper. “No change. There's nothing more we can do for him other than make him comfortable.”

Joe felt all his sadness press itself into a tight ball in his throat. “Can I go in and see him?”

Joe saw the word
no
form on Mrs. Merrynether's lips, but then she paused.

“Please? Surely he's not dangerous anymore.”

Heinrich came back to them with a grimace, rubbing his right bicep and rolling his shoulder. The levers were obviously quite stiff.

“Ronnie, we must see to Flarp.” His tone was gentle but insistent. “I hate to think what he has done to our van in the last fifteen minutes.”

“Yes. But first, open Cornelius's enclosure for Joseph, would you?”

He nodded, produced a weighty set of keys from the pocket of his huge coat, and unlocked the cage.

“We'll be two minutes,” said Mrs. Merrynether.

Danariel was busy circling the horns of something large and grey in one of the other cages.

“Danariel?” Mrs. Merrynether called. “Joseph is going to spend a few minutes with Cornelius. Would you be so kind as to watch over him? We won't be long.”

“Of course,” the seraph replied. She fluttered to Joe and settled on his shoulder.

Mrs. Merrynether and Heinrich left the vault.

Joe pulled the barred door of the manticore enclosure open. A thrill ran through him as his foot crossed the border and touched the moss. Under the sole of his shoe, Joe felt the subtle snap of a quill belonging to a scarlet feather; the whole enclosure was littered with them. Though Cornelius was completely still, the reality
that he was sharing a cage with something more dangerous than a lion struck Joe with sudden intensity.

With trembling hands and a racing heartbeat, he knelt beside the creature and pressed one palm against his side. He slid his fingers through the crimson fur and over the flowing bump of the manticore's ribs, the silky texture smooth against his skin.

A low moan gurgled from the beast's chest.

Joe quickly withdrew his hand.

“He will not hurt you.” Danariel's voice tickled Joe's ear. “He likes affection.”

As if to agree with the seraph, the animal's great head lifted from the rock he was resting against and turned toward Joe, its pupils no longer revealed as catlike slits but wide wells of pain. Something that sounded like a complaint gurgled from Cornelius's chest again, and his barbed tail thumped against the turf.

“He likes affection,” Danariel repeated.

Tentatively, Joe returned a hand to Cornelius's side and began to stroke him again. The red head, with its disturbingly humanlike face expressing weary satisfaction, returned to rest against the rock.

Three more minutes passed as Joe sat silently with Cornelius, watching his chest heave, listening to the soft, deep hum of what he believed to be purring. Joe wanted to stay there forever.

Just as Joe was about to lay his head against the manticore's side, the sound of splintering wood and
smashing glass erupted from the cellar outside the vault. The equally loud shrieking of Mrs. Merrynether firing irritated commands at Heinrich followed immediately, and then Joe heard the giant man stumbling, almost falling down the steps. He too was shouting in panicked response, but the short outbursts sounded muffled to Joe, as if Heinrich had a bag over his head.

The sight of Heinrich bursting into the vault, staggering like Frankenstein's monster on a pub crawl was as shocking as it was comical—not because of the way the huge man's arms were outstretched in zombielike desperation and not even because of the German's cursing but because of the extraordinary thing covering his head.

Joe could do nothing apart from open his mouth wide and scream, more from shock than fear. Upon Heinrich's broad shoulders, completely surrounding the man's head, was a massive, pea-green ball of translucent slime. Dead center of the blob, the most enormous eyeball Joe had ever seen stared outward emoting what could be nothing other than delirious excitement. Snotty tendrils lapped around its floppy base as the eyeball swiveled, looking at everything with the frenzy of an unrestrained dog in a butcher's shop.

Joe's scream gave way to laughter as the riot continued.

Danariel shot to the safety of her lightbulb.

Sucking, plopping noises drowned out Heinrich's muted pleas as the eyeball drove him farther into the vault. It appeared to be all he could do to not slip in
the muck that still coated the floor.

Right behind him, Mrs. Merrynether jabbed a broomstick at the hapless man's back. “I told you to calm down, Heinrich. You'll just make him worse. You know how excited this species can get.”

A stream of gargled German swear words erupted from within the slimy eyeball before Heinrich lost his balance and fell backwards against his desk. With a loud pop and gasp of air, the jellylike creature flew upward, leaving Heinrich to spit and scoop off lumps of gloop from his face.

The creature was on the loose. Like a deflating party balloon, it spun and raced through the air, eagerly seeking something new and interesting to look at.

“Get up, Heinrich. Catch it before it gets away.” Mrs. Merrynether jabbed him again.

With all the commotion, Joe hadn't been watching the manticore. Now he saw that Cornelius had lifted his head. A look of ruffled annoyance distorted the animal's proud features as he watched the slimy intruder whoosh around the vault. It was a look Joe had seen before on a stray cat he'd tried to befriend, and it wasn't a good sign. Cautiously, Joe stood and backed out of the enclosure, shutting the door behind him. He sidled up to Mrs. Merrynether, who was squinting intensely at Heinrich.

“What
is
that?” Joe asked.

“That, dear boy, is a globble.” She gave Heinrich
one more nudge as he strode toward the eye, arms lifted. “He's got about as much chance as an elephant catching a fly,” she whispered to Joe gleefully, leaning on her broom. “But it'll be amusing to watch him for a while, won't it? And perhaps it'll teach him to tighten up his security methods.”

Heinrich, covered in slime, his grey hair sticking out in all directions, staggered after the blob. To Joe he looked like a man who had narrowly escaped an explosion in a hair gel factory.

“What did you say that thing is?” Joe asked again.

“A globble. His name is Flarp.”

“I've never heard of one of those.”

“Well, I'm not surprised. You won't find them in any encyclopedia, not even under the mythology section.”

“Where did it
come
from?” Joe asked. “Actually, where do
any
of these animals come from?”

“That is a secret, but I will tell you this: Every single one of the creatures treated at Merrynether Mansion comes from an island—a protected island. Only I and Heinrich—”

“Ronnie, look,” Heinrich shouted.

The globble was hovering outside Cornelius's enclosure, apparently fascinated by the manticore, and Joe had the distinct impression that this strange ball of slime was desperate to make friends. Unfortunately for Flarp, the feeling was not mutual.

The disgruntled manticore whipped his barbed tail
in the air, and with a deadly swing, a poisonous dart shot out at the jelly beast.

Flarp deftly avoided the poisonous projectile.

“Get back,” said Mrs. Merrynether to Joe. “If one of those barbs hits you, I'll be spending the rest of the day saving your life. The venom is extremely potent.”

With undampened enthusiasm, the globble flew back to the enclosure. Its enormous eyeball strained, looking like it was about to burst with the excitement of meeting a new friend. With a rhythmic sloshing motion, it weaved and dodged quill after quill as Cornelius tried to rid himself of this new intruder.

“Still want me to catch it?” Heinrich grinned.

“Of course not.” Mrs. Merrynether waved him over. “Just back away to a safe distance, and let's see what happens. This could be the answer we've been waiting for.”

Joe marveled at the speed of the green blob as it zipped around the enclosure, never taking its focus off Cornelius and easily dodging each attack. “Are you sure the globble won't get hurt?”

“It may get unlucky,” Mrs. Merrynether answered, “but globbles are notoriously unresponsive to toxins of any kind. No circulatory system, you see.”

“That's why it couldn't be sedated for the journey here,” Heinrich cut in. “No, Flarp will be fine. The worst that will happen is a tiny cut. And he will heal quickly.”

Mrs. Merrynether shook her head. “Strange beasties, these. No
sense of smell, hearing, touch, or taste. They just suck in air, feed on bacteria, and float around all day long, looking at things. Essentially, the globble is nothing more than a conscious eyeball.”

“So what's wrong with it?” Joe asked.

Mrs. Merrynether smiled back. “It's blind.”

Joe gazed at the creature bobbing like a hyperactive jellyfish, still avoiding darts with incredible agility. “It looks like it can see perfectly,” Joe said. “It
must
be seeing those darts, especially if it doesn't have any other senses.”

Mrs. Merrynether removed her glasses and gave them to Joe. “Put these on for a moment.”

Joe obeyed and was immediately confronted by a world so blurred and distorted he couldn't even distinguish Mrs. Merrynether from Heinrich. He could just about see her lips moving as she spoke.

“Even now, Flarp can see far better than you or I, but in comparison to others of its kind, Flarp's vision is no better than what you see through my spectacles.”

Joe took the glasses off and handed them back.

“So he's a super eye?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. Our vision is limited to a narrow spectrum of light and relatively short distances, but a normal globble can see the fleas on a cat's back a thousand miles away through a ten-foot wall of lead.”

“Wow! Really? Can they see other planets and stars and things if they look at the sky?”

“D'you know, I've never thought about that,” she
answered. “I'll have to ask him one day.”

“Ask him? How do you talk to a floating eyeball?”

“I can't, but Danariel can.”

As if she sensed she was needed, Danariel popped out of her lightbulb and drifted to Mrs. Merrynether, careful to stay out of the line of fire. “You'd like me to talk with the globble?”

“If you wouldn't mind. Though I'm certain Flarp's provocation is going to help Cornelius, the manticore is still very weak, and too much antagonism may not be beneficial. We need to calm our new guest down and get him settled into his own enclosure.”

“I will do what I can, but these are not the brightest of nature's creations.”

Danariel flittered as close as she could to the green ball and danced around it. Flarp's attention instantly transferred to this new curiosity with equal interest. With little regard for the seraph's personal space, the globble pushed as close to her as he could get.

For the first time since its arrival, the globble stopped rushing around, and the two oddities drifted in graceful orbit together, sharing in what Joe assumed was some sort of private conversation.

BOOK: The Beasts of Upton Puddle
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