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Authors: Simon West-Bulford

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BOOK: The Beasts of Upton Puddle
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“Okay,” said Joe. “I'll be there first thing tomorrow. I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best.”

“Good,” said Danariel. “Let's go, Lilly. Joe needs to sleep. He'll have a lot to think about tomorrow.”

“Right ye are,” said the tiny man, dragging a bulging sock to the window.

“Hey!” said Joe. “What are you doing with my sock?”

“Just a few tings oi moight be needin'. Dat's all.”

“But—” Joe decided it would be futile to try to stop him. Instead, he walked to the window and opened it.

Danariel fluttered into the night, and Lilly struggled over the ledge after her.

The next morning was a bright start to what promised to be an eventful Saturday. Joe thrust some sandwiches, chocolate bars, and drink cartons into a carrier bag and, after saying a quick good-bye to his bewildered mother, hurried out of the house promising to be back in time for tea.

Joe ran through the forest, feeling the mixture of nervous excitement and trepidation building with every step. He wondered what sort of condition the vault would be in when he arrived. As the mansion came into view, something new caught his attention, something sprouting from the ground several yards away from the entrance gate.

Joe stopped. A large mound of dirt was heaped beside a gaping hole in the earth. It looked just like the one at the edge of the school grounds where Mr. Graves was attacked. At once Joe crouched and looked frantically for any sign of the Beast, but after a minute of careful observation, the sound of normal birdsong told Joe that the creature was long gone.

With cautious steps, Joe made his way to the hole and peered into the stinking darkness. Something enormous had burrowed deep, but there was no sign of
a struggle or blood. Nevertheless, Joe had to suppress images of the great shaggy creature dragging the unconscious body of Mrs. Merrynether into its lair. Shuddering, Joe realized that they may well have to mount some sort of rescue party and venture underground to find her.

He looked up at Merrynether Mansion and wondered if it was safe to take Cornelius with him. Surely the Beast would be no match for a manticore. He hoped he wouldn't have to find out the answer. It wasn't certain that the Beast had taken Mrs. Merrynether anyway. Joe took one last look into the hole before hurrying off to the mansion.

N
INETEEN

Heinrich looked most unwell when he answered the door. Although he was still a towering figure, he seemed to be stooping more than usual. His grey hair was a mess, and even the bags under his eyes had bags. The tiniest smile flickered across his lips when he saw Joe, but it was obvious Heinrich's mind was in a very distant place.

“Come in, Joe. I don't know why you chose to come back, but I am very glad you did.” Heinrich retreated into the hallway, almost tripping over Archy the pig on his way.

Joe followed and shut the door. “How are you?”

The old man turned around and looked at Joe with wrinkled eyelids, as if he'd forgotten something. “Good. Yes. Good.”

“I . . . um . . . heard that Mrs. Merrynether has gone missing.”

“Missing. Yes.” His confusion seemed to be mounting, and he stared at the ceiling. “Would you like a brew of tea?”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Happened?”

“Yes, to Mrs. Merrynether.”

Archy ran around Heinrich's feet, snorting.

Heinrich made a halfhearted attempt to kick him out of the way. “Stop it, Archy. Ronnie will be . . . She will feed you when she gets . . .” He raised a hand to his head and tapped gently. “Not here. Ronnie's gone.” He looked at Joe, suddenly alarmed. “Ronnie is gone, Joe. We . . . You must find her.”

“Please just tell me what happened.”

Heinrich nodded and bit his lip. It appeared he had momentarily regained his senses and was fighting hard to keep hold of them. “Come down to the vault, and I will explain there. Archy needs feeding.”

When they opened the door to the vault, Joe was not surprised to see the place in a mess. A powerful stench of animal droppings from the enclosures assaulted him, and a variety of dirty rags, bags, and overturned bowls were scattered on the floor in the semidarkness. Somewhere near the back, Joe heard a rhythmic thud against the wall and caught a glimpse of something green. Could that be Flarp?

“I apologize for the mess,” said Heinrich. “I have not been myself these last few days.” He poured some
crunchy objects into one of the dirty bowls and slid it under Archy's snout.

The pig received it with great enthusiasm.

At the sound of Heinrich's deep tones, a soft blue glow shifted inside the lightbulb at the center of the vault. Joe was pleased to see Danariel squeeze out from inside it and glide down toward them.

Heinrich pulled up his chair and dragged a stool near Joe, gesturing for him to sit, which he did.

“Hello, Joe,” said Danariel.

Joe nodded his own greeting and then saw Cornelius approaching from the gloom.

Unchained and with calm magnificence, the manticore strolled toward them and settled beside Heinrich's stool, crossing its paws and holding Joe with his intense gaze.

Absently, the old man scratched Cornelius behind the ear.

Joe stood and edged away, touching his shoulder, remembering the wound.

“Cornelius is very sorry for what happened,” said Danariel. “It was an accident.”

The manticore purred in agreement and blinked slowly at Joe. Joe smiled and tentatively reached out to stroke his mane. The creature nuzzled against his hand.

“Danariel told me this morning that you will help us,” Heinrich said.

“Yes,” she added. “We must try to find Veronica.”

Joe's stomach knotted as he thought of the tunnel
outside the mansion, and he slumped back onto his stool. “I think I know where she is.”

“You do?” said Heinrich, leaning forward.

“I think she's been snatched by the Beast.”

“The Beast of Upton Puddle?”

“Yes. Haven't you seen the tunnel it's dug just outside the gates? I think she's underground.”

“No, no,” said Heinrich. “That creature has never harmed anyone. It has damaged property and stolen food, but it has never harmed a human.”

“It attacked Mr. Graves.”

“Are you sure?”

“It drew blood on his arm, yes.”

Heinrich looked thoughtful for a second. “Self-defense perhaps.”

“But—”

“Even if it has started to attack humans, why Ronnie? She has the skill of empathy with animals. No, I believe this is the work of Argoyle Redwar.”

“I agree with Heinrich,” said Danariel. “Argoyle Redwar has been harassing Veronica for quite some time. I think he's getting desperate now and has resorted to kidnapping.”

“But Joe does have a point,” said Heinrich, reconsidering. “The Beast has actually attacked someone, and there is a tunnel outside . . . That would explain the smell.”

“Smell?” said Joe.

“Yes, a few days ago, we kept noticing a peculiar
smell outside. At first we thought something was wrong with the drains, but she did say she was going to investigate. Perhaps she
did
encounter the Beast.”

“I still think it's Redwar,” said Danariel.

As the two of them continued to discuss the possibilities, Joe became increasingly distracted by the disturbance at the back of the vault. The rhythmic thumping had continued throughout their conversation, and Joe strained to look through the dim light to see what it was. “Is that Flarp over there?”

They all stopped to look where Joe pointed.

Heinrich nodded. “I am afraid so. The poor creature has taken Ronnie's disappearance as hard as the rest of us. He has been banging against that wall ever since we found out she was missing.”

“Can't you put him somewhere? He might get hurt.”

“I have tried to catch him, but he always flies away and returns to that same patch of wall. I don't know what to do, and the noise is torture, almost as annoying as . . . Oh, dear!”

“What?”

“I forgot about Kiyoshi. He has gone silent.”

“Kiyoshi?” Joe leaned forward. “Is that the new patient?”

“Yes,” said Heinrich, struggling to lift something off a large cushion from beside his desk. “Another patient I have no idea how to help. If Ronnie were here, she would know what to do.”

Joe stared in fascination, almost revulsion, at the
sight of this new creature. It looked as if someone had taken several different animals and thrown them together to create a bizarre Chimera. Its predominant feature was very much like the shell of a giant tortoise but with subtly different patterns and white hornlike extensions jutting from the edges. Heinrich was using two of these as handles as he heaved the creature toward Joe. The sticky limbs dangling from the protective case had the wet sheen of an amphibian, and each leaf-green leg ended in a webbed foot with suckers for toes. As if the combination of reptile and amphibian were not strange enough, it had a mammalian head, not unlike that of a chimpanzee.

Heinrich was doing his best to keep the head upright as he grunted beneath the creature's weight, lowering it to the floor. At the top of the creature's head, a fleshy flap had fallen forward to reveal an opening the size of a bathtub's plughole. At first Joe thought it was some sort of injury, but when he saw tiny green scales around the rim, he knew it was part of the animal's unusual anatomy. A cloudy yellow liquid oozed inside the hole, and Joe noticed that some of it had dripped down the side of the creature's hairy head.

“What's that thing?” Joe asked with a grimace.

“A kappa,” said Heinrich, gently tapping its cheek. “And it has been the bane of my life since it arrived.”

“Why?”

The thing's eyes popped open. “
Why
?” it said with
the tone of a rusty door hinge. “
Why
is an utterance of great import to the noble art of chrestomathy. For without it, one would flounder helplessly in a sea of ignorance.”

“That's why,” said Heinrich.

“What did he say?” asked Joe.

“I have absolutely no idea. Even Danariel has trouble translating.”

The kappa padded around ninety degrees to face Joe and studied him with lemur-like eyes. Its next words rattled from its mouth like bullets from a machine gun. “Australopithecus? Cro-Magnon perhaps? Certainly you have the anthropological characteristics of an advanced Neanderthal at least, though I must confess, some features may be idiosyncratic.”

“Those are cavemen, aren't they?” Joe grinned. “Are you insulting me? You're not so good-looking yourself, you know.”

The creature popped its suckered toes up and down on the ground as if frustrated with Joe's answer.

“Your name's Kiyoshi, isn't it? Are you Japanese?”

“My species is indigenous to the land mass known as Kyushu; hence, the homogenous nature of my name, and since your inclination is to confabulate in matters of nomenclature, I would make a similar transaction.”

“Wha—?”

“Yes, he comes from Japan,” said Danariel, “and he wants to know your name too.”

“Ah, right. Well, my name's Joe.”

“Joe!” The kappa puckered its lips as if the name left a bad taste in its mouth. “A meager name reflecting a nugatory existence, no doubt. And you,” said the thing, suckering its way to Heinrich. “You demonstrate not one whit of sagacity. I charged you with a single elementary duty, and your sole achievement is near speciocide.”

“That sounded bad,” Joe said.

“Yes, Kiyoshi believes I nearly killed him.”

“Why? What did you do?”

“It is what I didn't do that upset him.”

“Precisely.” It squeaked, “One—” The beast's eyes suddenly closed as its head flopped forward. Some of the yellow liquid oozed over the edge of the opening, and Heinrich quickly nudged it under the chin. The eyes popped open, revealing what appeared to be mild confusion and frustration. “One . . .what was I saying?”

“Kiyoshi suffers from narcolepsy.” Heinrich sighed.

“Don't
you
start,” said Joe. “What does that mean?”

Danariel fluttered forward. “It means that Kiyoshi keeps falling asleep without warning.”

“Oh.”

“Gross incompetence,” Kiyoshi grated.

“Yes,” added Heinrich, trying to ignore the creature, “and for a kappa, this is deadly. You see that ugly hole in the top of Kiyoshi's head?”

“Couldn't really miss it, could you?” said Joe, pulling a face.

“Well, that is called the cranial vent. It contains a
fluid which is vital for his survival and endows the kappa with extraordinary strength and dexterity. Kiyoshi must avoid tipping his head forward with the flap open. Otherwise, all the fluid may leak out and his life would drain away. The trouble is, his tendency to keep falling asleep accompanies cranial incontinence, so you see, he needs constant supervision. We can't seal the flap closed either—the pressure would make him ill.”

BOOK: The Beasts of Upton Puddle
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