CHAPTER 20
JEST TURNED TO HATTA. ‘We must make a run for the Crossroads. The beast will be too large to follow us through.’
Cath gaped up at him, her heart squeezing tight. ‘You mean for us to go outside?’ She turned towards Hatta, whose face was drawn, his jaw set. ‘Wouldn’t it be more prudent to stay put and wait for the beast to tire? Surely it will get bored and leave if it can’t get to us.’
A window at the back of the shop shattered. The Porcupine and the Bloodhound scrambled away from the scattering glass.
Two clawed fingers pushed through the destroyed window. The remaining glass shards scraped over the scaled skin as the fingers writhed and searched for a way inside, drawing charcoal-coloured blood from the wounds.
Cath shuddered and pressed herself into Jest’s arms. ‘It can’t get to us here . . . can it?’
‘These walls are but wood and nails, Lady Pinkerton,’ Hatta said, his voice low. ‘The Jabberwock may not fit through the door, but it can doubtlessly open a new one.’
Her mouth dried.
The claw disappeared from the window. The shop rocked and trembled again as the monster paced to the other side of the roof. Searching. Through a gap in a set of drapes, Cath saw a slithering tail flick past.
Fear wrapped around her, encasing her limbs in stone.
She was going to die. Here, among strangers, in the middle of the night. She would be a feast for the Jabberwock, and her parents and Mary Ann would never know what had become of her.
A sudden gust through the chimney extinguished the fire that had been blazing in the corner hearth. The air filled with the smell of smoke and embers.
Hatta, the only one still sitting, pushed himself back from the table, the legs of his imitation throne scratching against the floorboards. He grabbed his cane and pressed his hat on to his head before surveying his guests. His attention landed on Jest.
‘Think of it like being at home, mate,’ he said. ‘Haigha and I will go out first to distract the enemy with a clear target. You and Raven helm us on the sides. Protect the others while they run for the Crossroads.’ His gaze slipped down to Cath and he seemed, briefly, to find something amusing in their situation. ‘As always, we must protect the Queen.’
Jest flinched, his fingers digging into her arms.
A deep voice rumbled across the table. ‘I will bring up the rear.’
Cath turned towards the Lion, who stood regal and imposing in the dim candlelight, his orange mane haloed around him, although the look was diminished by the carousel hat clopping around his head. His tail flicked as he scanned the other creatures, all smaller than he was. ‘I will not enter the Crossroads until we all are safe.’
Hatta tipped his hat. ‘You are a brave soldier.’
Overhead, the Jabberwock screamed again. It was followed by the sound of splintering wood and creaking nails. The walls trembled.
‘Everyone into position,’ Hatta yelled. ‘Prepare to run for the Crossroads entrance. We must move as one.’
Jest pulled back, gripping Cath’s shoulders. His brow was drawn with fear and apology, but she stopped him before he could speak.
‘It was my choice to come,’ she whispered. ‘You couldn’t have known this would happen.’
A muscle twitched in his jaw. ‘I will get you home safely.’
She nodded and, despite the fear coursing through her veins, she trusted him. ‘Impossible is your speciality.’
His eyes softened, barely covering his distress. ‘So it is.’
‘Are we ready?’ asked Hatta. He had moved towards the door, ready to pull it open. Haigha stood opposite him, his large ears quivering.
Cath glanced around. The old lady had climbed on to the Bloodhound’s back, gripping her knitting needles like daggers. The Squirrel had taken hold of the fishbowl, with the two Goldfish cowering beneath an overturned sugar dish that had fallen inside. The Boa Constrictor had the snoozing Dormouse cradled in his jaw. The Parrot and Cockatoo were ready to take flight; the Chameleon had coloured himself to match the grass and wildflowers of the meadow outside; the Bumblebee was brandishing his stinger; the Porcupine had puffed up his barbed quills; and the Turtle had drawn his head into his shell.
The sight of them, who had been so merry and carefree minutes before, filled Cath with dread.
‘Run fast,’ Jest whispered against her ear. ‘Head straight to the Crossroads and try to stay near the middle of the group if you can – it will be safest.’
‘Why?’ she said. ‘My life has no more value than anyone else’s.’
Jest’s eyes darkened and she thought he would refute, but he seemed to reconsider. Finally, he said, ‘Just hurry, and don’t look back. I’ll be right behind you.’
Cath swallowed and nodded.
His hands fell from her shoulders. Raven swooped towards them and propped himself on Jest’s shoulder.
With the bird’s ink-black feathers and Jest’s ink-black motley, they looked like shadows come to life.
‘On the count of three,’ said Hatta.
More scratches across the rooftop. Another scream from the monster outside.
‘One.’
Jest pressed Cath forward, urging her to stand with the others. Though her legs were shaking, she willed them to be strong as she placed herself between the Porcupine and the Bloodhound. The grey-haired lady met her eyes and gave a nod that was perhaps meant to be comforting, though to Cath it seemed like a look passed between soldiers being sent on to a battlefield.
‘Two.’
Something cracked like splitting timber – the roof being ripped from its trusses.