Page 59 of Waifs And Strays
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Trilby led us to a narrow house as close to the river’s edge as it was possible to get. The building stood on its own, canting to one side in the higgledy-piggledy fashion of very old houses. ‘I don’t usually bring visitors here,’ they said. ‘I like my privacy. You’ll understand that, Kit.’
I nodded. I absolutely did.
‘Butyouwon’t understand that, MacTire.’ Trilby was right: Alexander MacTire was squinting as if the concept of privacy was a brand-new idea that had just been presented to him.
‘We won’t come here again,’ I said quietly. ‘Unless we’re invited to do so.’
‘Thank you.’ Trilby smiled. ‘I appreciate that.’
They looked across at MacTire, who shrugged. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to worry about me.’
‘So said the spider to the fly,’ Trilby murmured.
‘I’m walking into your web,’ MacTire pointed out. ‘Not the other way around.’
‘He’s got a point,’ I added.
‘Perhaps,’ Trilby replied. ‘But you two came to me, remember?’
‘Maybe we should just get this over and done with as quickly as possible,’ I said hastily.
Trilby tipped their hat in response. ‘In that case, in you come.’
The door had been painted bright orange for reasons that escaped me but which put me in mind of Mallory and her colourful flat. It creaked open seemingly of its own accord. Trilby said something under their breath before walking inside and I frowned as I followed them in. ‘What was that?’
‘Nothing you needed to hear,’ they told me.
‘They thanked the house,’ MacTire told me. Unsurprisingly, his hearing was better than mine.
I wasn’t taken aback by MacTire’s werewolf hearing skills but the possibility that Trilby’s house was sentient. Such a thing was rare indeed, but I knew better than to comment. I was now inside the house and it would be wise not to annoy it.
As if it heard my thoughts, the front door swung shut as soon as MacTire had crossed the threshold. He didn’t visibly react but I reckoned he was as surprised – and as nervous – as I suddenly was.
‘There’s more than one reason why it’s not wise to show up here without an invitation,’ Trilby told us.
Uh-huh.
We trailed through a series of twisting hallways and I craned my neck so I could catch glimpses of the rooms on either side. Most of them appeared to be crammed full of objects, suggesting this was as much a warehouse as a home.
When we’d made three turns, it occurred to me that this house was far bigger on the inside than on the outside. I stopped trying to sneak glances into the rooms and started paying attention to the layout; it would be all too easy to get lost for hours – perhaps even for days.
We walked in a straight line for fiftymetres or so then turned left and walked for another thirty metres. We turned left again and then again. ‘Are we walking in circles?’ MacTire demanded. There was a loud creak as if the house itself were answering.
‘Be quiet,’ I hissed.
Trilby chuckled. ‘You always did strike me as a smart kid, Kit.’
Kid? How oldwasTrilby? I opened my mouth to ask, decided it would be better to take my own advice and keep my questions to myself and closed it again.
Still we walked on. I should have brought some breadcrumbs so I could create a trail.
After about fifteen minutes, Trilby stopped in front of a closed door. It was made out of oak and unremarkable in appearance. They bowed their head for a moment as if in prayer, then reached forward and twisted the knob. The door opened to reveal a large room – or at least I supposed it was large. Darkness curled around the edges making it impossible to judge where the walls were. Interesting.
Only the centre of the room was illuminated, though there was no bulb overhead and no candles so the only explanation was magic. Whatever powered the light clearly existed for one reason alone: to provide light for the single piece of furniture.
