‘No!’ he shouted. ‘Shut up! I’ll never join you – never!’
The bulldozer turned again. Jack pushed and pulled on the levers, but no matter what he did, it wouldn’t stop. If it kept going, it was bound to crash into the house, bring down a wall, and then The Evil would swarm in —
‘Just stop, will you?’ Jack let go of the levers and looked at the dashboard. There was a slot that looked like it would have held a key. If he could jam the screwdriver in there, perhaps, and turn it . . .
He reached down to draw the screwdriver from his belt, and was suddenly stopped in mid-motion, as two strong arms wrapped themselves around him in an embrace so tight Jack couldn’t breathe.
It had to be Rennie returning to do The Evil’s will. Jack cursed himself for not keeping an eye out for the handywoman.
He kicked backward, but the grip didn’t ease.
+We have you now, Jackaran Kresimir Shield.++ The voice was like an icicle in his mind. ++You were foolish to try to resist us. Your inner self wants to join us. Relax, and let us help you help yourself.++
Jack tried to say no, but suddenly his mouth wouldn’t work. Spit drooled from his lips and his tongue felt numb.
He strained to fight, but barely managed to move a single finger before they all went dead.
+There. That’s better, isn’t it?++
Rennie eased her grip, and Jack slumped down, turning sideways as he did so.
Rennie smiled at him, an effect undermined by her white, staring eyes, the worms wreathed in her hair, and the rats coiled around her neck like a fat fur collar.
No, Jack wanted to say, it’s not better at all!
+Be still,++ The Evil told him. ++There is no point in struggling.++
The only feeling Jack retained was in the little finger the crocodile skull had bitten. He wriggled it, but felt no triumph. What could he do with one little finger?
+We know the old Warden is dying,++ said The Evil. ++We feel it. She cannot help you. Surrender. You know you want to give in.++
Jack moved his little finger again, stretching it out. The long screwdriver was thrust through his belt. It was a Warden screwdriver, an antique, made lively by long contact with Grandma X . . . If he could just touch it, maybe it would help him . . .
+Surrender to us, and we will let your sister go,++ said the insidious voice. ++We are not greedy. One troubletwister is enough.++
Jack didn’t hear the words, but he knew The Evil was thinking for now. If he did give in, surely it would just use his Gifts against Jaide. But it was so hard to keep resisting.
He could feel The Evil forcing itself further and further into his mind, paralysing more and more and more of his body. What was the point of fighting when he had lost the ability to fight at all?
+Perhaps this will help you decide,++ said The Evil.
Then it stopped his lungs.
The panic that Jack had just managed to keep under control burst free.
I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! The terrified thoughts raced through his body, but none of his limbs could respond.
Only Jack’s little finger moved. Fuelled by his intense fear, it managed to stretch impossibly far and touch the cold steel of the screwdriver.
The Evil’s control snapped the instant Jack made contact. The boy drew a great, shuddering breath that brought tears to his eyes. He drew the long screwdriver and dragged the point across Rennie’s hand, scratching her from the knuckles to the wrist.
She shrieked and let go. Jack threw himself forward, thrust the screwdriver into the bulldozer’s ignition, and twisted it as hard as he could.
There was a tremendously loud bang. Sparks flew everywhere. The engine coughed three times and died. The tracks clanked forward one more foot and locked in place.
The bulldozer was dead, but Rennie’s hands came scrabbling back, gripping Jack’s shoulders. He twisted desperately and slithered out the bottom of the cab, hitting the ground hard. But he was up again instantly, running for the house, the handle of the screwdriver hanging limply in his hand. The rest was gone, immolated doing its work against The Evil.
He’d just got to the front door when he heard the bulldozer’s tracks start to clank again, followed by the screech of its blade across the ground. Neither sound was accompanied by any engine noise.
Jack whipped around in astonishment.
+Come back, troubletwister,++ called The Evil, straight into his head. ++We will give you one last chance!++
Jack didn’t want another chance. No matter what he thought of Grandma X, he was sure The Evil’s plans for him were too terrible to imagine. He ran inside, slammed the door after him, and immediately collided with Jaide, who was right behind it. She had a white bandage on one finger, a small screwdriver and the leather case with the replacement plate were sticking out of the pocket of her jeans, and she was holding a beautiful golden box the size of a small book in her hands. The cats were by her side, Kleo on the left, and Ari on the right.
‘I killed the engine,’ said Jack. ‘But it’s started again!’
‘The Evil can make such things move of their own accord,’ said Kleo, ‘when it has sufficient lives to fuel it. It has grown strong.’
‘Very strong indeed,’ Ari agreed gloomily.
‘So we’ve had it,’ said Jack. ‘It’ll have the wall down in a few minutes, and the storm is getting worse!’
‘Not if this works,’ said Jaide. ‘I was just about to take it outside and start it up, but I was worried about rats and stuff.’
‘The machine will be taking most of The Evil’s power,’ said Kleo. ‘It will have little left to attack us.’
‘All right, then,’ said Jaide. ‘Come on!’
‘Wait,’ said Jack. ‘What is that, anyway? And what happened to your finger?’
‘Later,’ said Jaide. ‘Open the door.’
‘We’re right behind you,’ said Ari, moving to put Jaide between himself and whatever lay outside. ‘After you, troubletwisters.’
Jack opened the door. Kleo raced out ahead of him, hissing in warning. There were a dozen rats, with glowing white eyes, on the porch, but none of them reacted to the cat’s presence. They crouched, frozen, staring fixedly at the approaching bulldozer.
Jaide opened the lid of the golden box, revealing a mass of rods and cogs. She set it down on the steps and took a butterfly key with enamelled blue wings out of her pocket. She put that in the keyhole in the front of the box and slowly wound the spring.
On the other side of the house, the bulldozer cleared its way through the roots and stones and began to back up for its final, lethal run against the house. With its blade raised and the clank of its tracks barely audible above the roar of the storm, it was a strange and eerie threat.
Jaide let go of the key, and the music box started playing.
The notes were pure and crystalline, and they rang out through the night as clear as bells. Jaide recognised the tune; she felt as though she had been listening to it her entire life, but she didn’t know what it was called.
As the music played, a series of tiny, jewelled figures sprang up from inside the box and began moving around the edges, telling the story of The Evil as it leaped from creature to creature in its bid to take over the world. Tiny insects were first, then small animals, then people. A miniature steam train with glowing red lanterns raced ahead of a storm with bloody lightning – machines and weather – followed by something Jaide couldn’t interpret: a white circle with nothing but black inside. It rolled around the insides of the box like a soap bubble before sinking back into the innards, and the cycle began anew.
While the music box played, the world seemed to stop. Jack and Jaide didn’t notice that the clank of tracks had ceased, or the frozen rats, or the cats stalking back toward them.
Jaide and Jack we
re lost in the music. The tune played over and over, drawing them deeper and deeper into its spell. The outside world had become irrelevant. Only the music mattered.
Something sharp dug into the back of Jaide’s right hand, as something equally sharp stabbed Jack behind the knee. Both gasped and, looking down, saw the cats retracting claws into padded paws.
‘Step away from the music box!’ commanded Kleo. ‘Put your fingers in your ears and try not to listen.’
Jaide felt as though she’d been wrenched out of a nice warm bath and dumped into icy snow.
‘What did you do that for?’ she asked petulantly.
‘Put your fingers in your ears!’ repeated Kleo sharply.