Harmony removed the lock and placed her hands on the lid. Excitement surged through her. She felt as though fate had conspired to bring her to this very moment. Now here she was, before the chest and whatever destiny it contained.
Seizing the chance to seek adventure she pushed on the heavy lid. The hinged-cover opened with a loud creak. Harmony winced as the noise sounded throughout the house. She held her breath and crossed her fingers, hoping the prowler hadn’t heard her. The silence pressed against her as she waited. When no response from the intruder was heard she exhaled and relaxed a little. Perhaps they had already fled? It didn’t matter really. The trespasser would never find her in the secret room. Besides, she had better things to entertain herself with. Harmony returned her attention to the chest.
Upon opening the box, much to her disappointment, she found no gold, jewels or treasures of any kind. The dark, rectangular interior contained two objects and neither was all that interesting at first glance.
She beheld the lacklustre contents with a scowl. Ignoring the prickle of frustration she reached in and removed a cloth backpack and a small book.
Harmony deposited the bag on the dusty floor and focused on the paperback. Its dark, leather binding was very fragile and the pages were old and thin. The ink inside was faded with age which made the scribblings practically impossible to read. She thumbed through a few pages but ultimately lost interest in the illegible mutterings.
She placed the book on the floor and crooked her consideration toward the bag. Perhaps the sack would be more fruitful?
She opened the clasp and lifted the flap. The fabric was stiff, its weave dusty and not altogether compliant. Within she found a coil of pale, silver rope. The hoary cord was woven from fine threads, so thin they could have been mistaken for hair.
Harmony felt beneath the twine. Her fingers immediately brushed a hard surface, something more substantial than the rope. She retrieved a cold, metal medallion. The silver disk hung from an intricately woven chain.
She turned the charm over to examine the elaborate design more closely. On the front was an image of a roaring lion. The fearsome beast was surrounded with leaves.
On the back of the disk an inscription read:
For Nova. Long live The Grey Queen.
Harmony gazed at the dedication. Grey Queen she read again. The old woman who lived in this tumbled-down cottage was a queen? It’s just not possible.
Harmony couldn't and wouldn't believe it. It was ridiculous to even entertain the idea that her mysterious, great aunt was a monarch. There is only one Queen. She lives in London in a palace and not in a cottage in the Lake District.
“Stupid girl,” she mumbled aloud. She was feeling embarrassed she had become so caught up in what was obviously a mad-woman's fantasy world.
As she stuffed the rope and medallion, along with the delicate book, back into the bag a noise startled her. It sounded like someone was coming up the stairs.
She crawled over to the little door and poked her head through. The noise came again. The intruder must have heard her open the chest after all. Now he or she was coming to find her. Harmony’s only hope, she thought, was to frighten them; perhaps they hadn't realised she was here. Plucking up the courage she called out.
“Hello! Mum is that you?!”
Harmony smiled as the sounds abruptly ceased. Her idea had worked, they were startled. She decided to shout again, louder this time.
“I know you’re there! I can hear you breathing. I have called the police, so you had best scarper before they get here.”
This was a lie. She had not called the police but she hoped the threat would be enough to frighten them away.
The breaths became heavier. When no other response was offered she started to panic. They weren’t leaving... She quickly pulled her head back through the little door. Whoever was on the stairs was not scared. Instead they began to climb quickly. In seconds she heard them reach the top and begin crashing down the hall.
Harmony’s breath abandoned her. Without rhyme or reason she reached out and retrieved the golden doorknob. She snatched the gleaming handle from the socket and deposited it into the cloth bag. Without the handle perhaps the little door would make the intruder pass-out like it did her? A jolt of terror pulsed through her as a huge, black shape appeared in the doorway. A foul smell crept into the air. Harmony instinctively covered her nose and mouth.
The creature edged into the room. A hulking, black shape closely resembling a wolf slowly moved forward. Its thick, black fur was covered in glistening tar. Oozing drips puddled beneath its frame as the creature paused to sniff the air.
The monstrous beast had twigs and branches protruding from its back and legs, apparently caught in its dark, matted fur. The wooden shafts stuck out like porcupine quills.
The monster swiped one massive paw, embedded with claws like thorns. The foot scratched shards of shattered mirror out of its way. The wolf growled menacingly and it bared its sharp, yellowed fangs. Its barbaric teeth sat in perfect rows, like splinters of wood drenched in saliva, the tips stained with blood.
The beast lunged forward, its eyes wild with a murderous glow. Harmony scrabbled backwards. Her foot kicked out and connected with the little door, slamming it shut. As the wolf collided with the secured barrier a heavy thud and a howl of anger raged from the other side.
Harmony jumped to her feet. All that separated her from the beast was the little door. The wolf clawed at the wood and plaster as it tried to get through. She did not have long before it would be in there with her.
At once she searched around for an escape route but there were no other doors or windows. She was trapped, backed into a corner.
A cold drop of water landed on her neck. She looked upwards, surprised and displeased in equal measure. Immediately locating the source Harmony noticed a thin shaft of light. The scant amount of light shone through a gap at the edge of the strange contraption. She could just make out a blanket of dark rain clouds tumbling overhead.
“The funnel!” she exclaimed, a plan forming instantly in her mind.
She grabbed the backpack and slung the strap over her shoulder. Without wasting a moment she clambered onto the loom and ignored its groans of encumbrance.
The monster slammed against the wall, trying to force entry. The resultant shudder caused the stack of books to topple. They scattered and crashed down, knocking over the small candle in the process.
Harmony was much too preoccupied to notice the spilt flame. She reached up and wrenched on the copper funnel. The apparatus gave way easily. She felt a rush of hope; the cone was as old and rickety as it appeared to be. She yanked it out and dropped it onto the splay of books with a great clatter.
Beyond the door the scratching momentarily ceased. The respite was short lived and as it began again a renewed sense of urgency was evident.
The tiny flame had been quietly burning on his candle, however now he chose to reveal itself. Orange and bright he leapt from the white hot wick to an extremely dry and previously scorched book. Taming the Flame – A Beginner’s Guide to Pyromancy.
The flicker thought this to be a fitting title with which to fuel his blaze. He spread across the book, growing bigger and bigger, greedily licking and consuming the tinder-dry pages.
The sound of the door giving way to the stress of attack, coupled with the billowing smoke from the rapidly growing fire, urged Harmony through the small gap in the straw roof.
She emerged from the hole and pulled herself clear. A loud crash from inside indicated the wolf had finally broken through. Seconds later its head appeared, snapping and snarling at her feet as she attempted to manoeuvre across the rain-soaked thatch. Thick, white smoke was seeping through the straw, choking her as she fumbled for safety.
Harmony was terrified and in her panic she lost her footing. She snatched at the straw, fingers pulling out tufts but she knew it was pointless. With increasing speed she slid off the roof and tumbled out of sight. The wolf gave a howl of frustration as it watched her vanish. Fury burned in its eyes as it retracted its head from the gap and give chase.
Harmony landed with a painful bump. She touched down in the garden below the kitchen windows. She cast aside the pain and immediately jumped to her feet. The creature would be upon her in seconds. She had to find a place to hide.
The forest bordering the cottage looked to be a suitable place to escape to. Moreover Harmony was fairly confident wolves couldn’t climb trees. She sprinted toward the swaying trees.
***
Harmony ran. She didn't know where she was going but that didn't matter. The most important thing was staying alive. She needed to find an adult, anyone who could help her.
Her mind filled with alternative versions of this day. In one fantasy, Rose stayed and they fought off the monster together. In another she joined her mother to look for a shop and the beast found the cottage empty. Yet another saw her fling Nova’s letter back out the window and her life remained ordinary. Any of these was preferable to her current reality.
After about ten minutes of running a stitch in her side forced her to slow down. She rested behind a very large tree. She gasped to catch her breath, all the while watching for signs of pursuit. The pit-pat of raindrops splashing on leaves filled the forest.
Harmony’s breathing was almost level when the sound of a twig snapping heightened her senses. Something was close... A second twig broke, much closer this time. Comprehension dawned on her, she was being circled.
Two options came to mind. Firstly she could climb the tree and shout for help. The only downside being that help needed to be within hearing distance. Secondly she could run and try to make it back to the cottage. Hopefully the billowing smoke would have summoned some attention. With any luck she may find firemen armed with axes.
Another cracking-snap forced a decision. She sprinted away from the tree; her heart beating so hard she was sure the wolf would hear it.
Close behind leaves rustled and twigs broke. The beast was close and giving chase. She didn't dare look back, fearful that the sight would cause her to falter. She rushed on, dodging between trees and ducking under branches.
Rain streamed from the canopy. Fallen droplets blurred her vision and soaked her clothes as she sprinted through the trees. Seconds turned to minutes and still the beast had not caught her. Despite her reservations she had to look behind. She allowed herself a quick glance. There was no pursuer. Two more glimpses and she felt confident enough to slow down.
Still jogging Harmony looked around wildly. The trees seemed to be closing in on her; fear gave way to panic. She was lost. In her desperation to lose the wolf she hadn’t thought to map her path. The trees all looked alike. She had no idea how to get back to the cottage...
Scared, lost and alone she slumped against a tree, feeling breathless and defeated. She knew staying still for too long meant the beast would be upon her but dread has a way of making legs heavy. This was not a good situation to be in. How could she have been so stupid? Why didn’t she mark the trees or drop a trail of breadcrumbs?
“I can’t stay here,” she encouraged herself. “Come on girl. Try to find a road or...”
Her words faltered as an unexpected sound greeted her above the rain-splatter. Close by two voices were sharing a muffled conversation. At first she felt a whoosh of relief. Salvation was at hand! She stood up and made her way toward the speakers. However, as she drew closer her initial joy quickly gave way to alarm. Their conversation was muffled for a very good reason...
“This skin doesn't fit properly,” said a high-pitched voice belonging to a man.
“It looks fine. So stop your moaning,” a second shrill-man replied.
“Tell me what I gotta do again.”
“How many times do I have to explain it, Folliver? All you need to do is smile and give the key to the mundaine,” informed the second speaker. “And no biting this time. She won’t be happy if they arrive full of holes again. Got it?”
“Oh please, Gickle. Just let me have a little nibble. No one will notice if I take a finger or two,” Folliver pleaded. He sounded disappointed, like a petulant child bereft of their desire.
“No. Not a finger nor an ear, nose or any other body part. If you do then she’ll be after you and you don't want that do you?” Gickle warned menacingly.
“No, I don’t want to anger her. Smile and give the key. That's all. I promise,” Folliver recited. He sounded a dash more cheerful. “Maybe when we finish up we can go find a spare? We can eat them can’t we?”
“Ok. If there’s time after we bag ‘em we can pilfer another. Goodness knows we need to eat too.”
“Yummy!” Folliver clapped excitedly.
“Right then let’s get moving,” Gickle snapped. “We haven't much time left. They’re due to arrive any time now.”
Thinking it wise to remain hidden Harmony crawled forward to the edge of a clearing. She swept aside the thicket of ferns just in time to see the last of the two men leaving. The gent was very tall and thin. He wore a black suit and long, black coat. Harmony thought his attire was both a strange and unwise choice for a stroll in the woods.
She sat nestled in the undergrowth, somewhat shaken by the conversation. The rain had stopped falling; save for the odd flurry of drops loosened from the canopy. The two creepy men were far away now, a fact she found comforting. Their chatter of ill-fitting skin and snacking on fingers was unnerving.
Regardless of the weirdness she intended to follow the pair from a safe distance. They seemed the most likely route to civilisation providing she kept her distance.
Harmony stood up and made to follow but as she did she noticed something rather odd. At the edge of the clearing an unusual tree stood apart from the others.
As she neared she observed some odd details. The tree was noticeably different from those around it. The bark was soot-black and it reflected light as if it were glass. The branches were leafless; twig-fingers frozen in cruel, wicked gestures.
Harmony crept towards the odd tree, curious as to what genus it was. She was by no means an expert but she could identify most species of tree found in Britain.
She walked around the wide trunk, stepping in between massive roots that protruded through the mossy ground. It was when she had completed a full circle that Harmony became aware of a large spider’s web stretched between two branches. The gossamer threads glistened in the sunlight and she was sure it was making a soft, musical sound...