Enoch nodded, as if quietly conceding there was no point in hiding the truth any more.
‘We call it the Malice,’ he said.
There was a subtle change in the air, as if something had tainted it. Mirabelle noticed that Dotty had scrunched her eyes shut and was trying not to cry. Daisy stroked her arm and whispered gently to her.
Enoch opened the book and Mirabelle stepped forward to look at it. The language was old and unfamiliar to her, the letters jagged and strange, as if someone had cut them into the yellowing pages in rage and pain.
‘It is an ancient creature that has hunted our kind since we can remember.’
Enoch turned the pages one by one. There were drawings of the same howling skeletal creature with long claws and sharp teeth pictured on the door to Piglet’s room. One picture showed a man cowering in the foreground as the creature reared up before him against the night sky.
‘For years the Glamour has hidden us not only from the humans, but also from the Malice. Alas, it now seems we have been discovered,’ said Eliza. Mirabelle could see that she was close to tears.
‘The Glamour protected us, but with it damaged we were left vulnerable and open to discovery. The creature would have sensed Piglet when he escaped. Piglet has a very powerful essence and aura. To the Malice it would have been like a wolf catching the scent of its prey,’ said Enoch.
‘How do we stop it?’ asked Mirabelle.
Enoch wiped a hand across his brow and closed the book with a whumping sound.
‘We can’t,’ he said.
‘What?’ Mirabelle was incredulous. ‘Of course we can. That’s just . . .’
‘We can hide,’ said Eliza.
‘Hide?’ Mirabelle roared. ‘Hide?’
Her anger was sudden and volcanic. It twisted up and through her until she could barely see.
‘We’re not hiding any more! This thing killed Uncle Bertram. It killed Aunt Rula. It nearly killed Odd!’ she shouted, pointing at the door.
She was panting hard, but all she got in response from Enoch and Eliza were sorrowful looks. They looked pathetic to her now. Pathetic and weak. She could see Bertram’s face in her mind. She wiped a hand angrily across her eyes.
‘This thing is a monster, and I say we kill it,’ she hissed through teeth so tightly clenched it felt to her as if her jaw would break.
Enoch sighed. ‘We can only hide. The wound in the Glamour is almost healed. Once it’s completely sealed, only the Family can pass through it. The only other way in is through the hidden entrance to the Path of Flowers. Even if the Malice does get in that way, the flowers are poison to him. There is no way he can withstand them.’
‘Then we send the flowers after him,’ said Mirabelle, slamming her fist against the table.
Enoch looked pained. ‘We can’t command the flowers that way and you know it. They are bound to their promise to protect the Family and the House. They provide a defence here, but no more than that.’
‘So that’s it, then? We just wait for the Malice to come to us?’
Enoch nodded.
The agony of it all seared into Mirabelle’s bones. The darkness seemed clammy and suffocating. She could hear the guttering of the candles and even that seemed to cause her pain.
‘Everybody get out,’ she said.
Dotty and Daisy looked at each other. Jem took a step towards Mirabelle.
‘Everybody except my beloved uncle, get out,’ Mirabelle growled.
Jem hesitated, then she and Tom both headed for the door. Eliza and the twins looked at Enoch, who sighed and waved a hand at them in dismissal, then the three of them followed suit and left the room.
Mirabelle stared at Enoch. He seemed so much smaller to her now, and while she was angry with him there was also a nagging hint of pity.
‘Why did you do it?’ she asked.
‘The Malice wasn’t something we thought you needed to know about.’
‘I’m not talking about the Malice. I’m talking about my mother. Why didn’t you tell me about her?’
Enoch lowered his eyes and picked at a corner of the book.
‘Enoch?’
He looked her in the eye again. ‘I had my reasons.’
‘Then tell me your oh-so-special reasons.’
‘I’m your guardian, Mirabelle.’
‘Of which you’re so fond of telling me.’
‘As your guardian—’
‘It was as good as a lie!’
Enoch looked suddenly furious. ‘I have never lied to you!’
‘Only done much worse,’ Mirabelle shouted, shaking her head with contempt.
Enoch headed for the door. ‘I need to repair the Glamour. The incantation is almost complete, and there isn’t much time.’
‘How often do you think about her?’ Mirabelle asked, her voice suddenly surprisingly calm.
Enoch stopped in his tracks. He stood up straight and took in a deep breath.
‘Uncle?’
He looked at her now, his eyes filled with sorrow. His voice was a hoarse whisper.
‘Every day,’ he said, then left the room.
Mirabelle found Jem on the steps outside the front door. The night seemed darker than ever, while on the Path of Flowers the occasional burst of gold lit up the sky, then faded as if it had never existed in the first place.
‘What is that light?’ asked Jem.
Mirabelle sat beside Jem and nodded as another sliver of gold flared briefly then disappeared.
‘That’s traces of magic, apparently. I think Uncle Enoch finally found the right incantation and he’s healing the tear. It should be mended soon,’ she said. She bit her lip. ‘It had better be mended soon. With the Malice out there . . .’ She shook her head, unwilling to finish the thought. She decided to change the subject. ‘Where’s Tom?’
‘He went to talk to Piglet.’
Mirabelle frowned at this.
‘He heard him crying earlier and he wanted to comfort him,’ said Jem.
‘That’s nice of him,’ said Mirabelle.
Jem laughed. ‘Nice. That’s one word I never thought I’d hear being used about Tom.’
‘He’s always looked out for you,’ said Mirabelle.
Jem lowered her head. ‘I know. And I look out for him.’
The one-eyed raven swooped down and landed on a pillar at the end of the steps. It
