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Her clawlike hands reached out for them. The rats and bugs in her flesh writhed in anger and pain, and her mouth was twisted in some deeper agony.
Jack acted instinctively, drawing back his feet. The woman’s fingers grasped for his toes, but missed. She fell back down the walkway, rats screeching and her hands scrabbling for a grip. But she failed, sliding over the edge without a cry, her staring, all-white eyes fixed upon Jack and Jaide as she fell into darkness.
Jaide hugged her brother with her one free arm. He shifted his position to be more secure, then hugged her back.
Around them, the storm was fading. The wind had changed direction, and there were patches of clear sky opening up to show starlight and the promise of light from a still-hidden moon.
But the storm had left its mark. Water surged up the river and spilled onto Main Street on both sides. The lights in the town were off again, save for the distant hospital and the sweep of the lighthouse.
A moth flew up against Jack’s face and he flinched. But it was just a normal insect, drawn by the light.
Jaide’s plan had worked. The Evil had left Portland.
‘We did it,’ she said, staring at the graffiti they had turned into the East Ward. The silver light was fading from it now, and soon it would look no different from any other graffiti, but they knew it was special, and that it would last.
‘We sure did,’ said Jack, grinning like a loon.
The twins butted their foreheads together in their ancient and time-honoured ritual of triumph.
‘Ow,’ complained Jaide. The only problem with the ritual was that someone’s head always hurt more than the other’s.
‘Brr,’ said Jack, feeling the cold more than the pain in his skull.
‘We need to get back and check on Grandma and the cats,’ said Jaide.
She looked over at the door to the lamp room. The walkway was now a good three feet under it, slanting down to a gaping hole, and was slippery and wet.
‘Do you think we should try to reach the door?’
‘We have to,’ said Jack. ‘We can’t hang on here all night.’
‘I can’t do anything with the wind now,’ said Jaide. ‘If we fall . . . we fall.’
Jack examined the walkway very carefully the next time the light came around.
‘It’ll be okay,’ he said. ‘We can hold on to the bottom of the window frames. They stick out.’
‘I guess,’ said Jaide.
‘You’re the climber,’ Jack pointed out.
‘All right.’
Gingerly, they both left the ladder and, holding on to the window frames, managed to clamber to the door and get inside.
Jaide shut the door behind them. It clicked, and the slight sound was immediately followed by an incredibly loud explosion that rattled all the windows, while a simultaneous flash of lightning blinded the twins. An almost horizontal stroke of electricity struck through to the lamp itself.
That’s not right, thought Jack. There’s a lightning rod up top, and lightning doesn’t go sideways, and . . . oh no!
He grabbed Jaide and pulled her down.
‘The Evil!’ he shouted, even as his vision cleared.
Thunder answered him, rolling out across the bay.
‘No . . . no . . . it can’t be,’ said Jaide.
‘It would be wrong,’ said a voice, ‘to think you’ve ever seen the last of The Evil. But in this case, it might be gone for a while.’
Both twins looked up. There was a man crouched on the top of the lamp, smoke rising from his clothes. More amazingly still, they recognised his voice.
It was Jack who put the impossible into words.
‘Dad?’
HECTOR SHIELD SWUNG HIMSELF down from the top of the lantern and landed with a light thud on the platform next to the twins. His hair was even wilder than it normally was, and his flapping coat was singed. He looked as though he had come down a chimney. There was a wild light in his eyes as he embraced the twins, drawing them into a very tight and smoky hug.
‘I came as fast as I could, my dear troubletwisters,’ he said. ‘When a ward fails, there is an alarm. The signal reached me just after I arrived in Venice, where the weather was annoyingly fine. Luckily things were stormy at this end or I might have been even longer. Am I the first here?’ He looked around and, without giving them the chance to say anything, said, ‘Good. Are you all right? Where’s your grandmother?’
The twins didn’t realise for a second that it was their turn to talk, and their reply was a rather jumbled account of everything that had happened in the previous days.
‘Hmmm,’ he said. ‘Mother is even tougher than she looks, and it is not unusual for a Warden to fall into the kind of sleep you’ve described when they have overtaxed their Gifts. Speaking of Gifts, it looks like yours have really been going to town. All perfectly normal, but perfectly worrying, too.’
‘Dad,’ said Jaide, slightly muffled by his shoulder, ‘why didn’t you tell us about being a Warden? And us being troubletwisters and all?’
‘Didn’t your grandmother explain that to you – that it’s dangerous to know too much too soon?’
‘Yes,’ said Jaide. She felt angry now, almost as much as she was relieved to see him. ‘But you should have told us!’
‘Would you have believed me?’
Their father smiled in his lopsided way. His nose was just a little too large, which made his face seem slightly unbalanced.
‘Yes,’ said the twins. ‘Of course.’
‘Um,’ said their father, looking contrite. ‘Well, the truth is that Warden parents are usually the worst— ah!’
He stopped and suddenly went to the window. The twins joined him and followed his gaze downward. A long, muscular shape was loping across the car park. The lighthouse flash gleamed off sharp, curving teeth. Jack gasped. It was a sabre-toothed tiger!
It disappeared from sight, but a second later there were three loud cracks from below, followed by a booming thud.
‘Padlocks,’ said their father. ‘And the door. Not subtle, not subtle at all.’
The metal staircase below them rang like a crazy xylophone as the tiger ascended.
The twins looked at their father. They had no fear left in them now, just a kind of incredibly weary anxiety.
Hector chuckled with something that sounded very much like relief.
‘I should’ve known Custer would be next. Don’t be frightened. Tiger-shape is just how he gets around – and it’s a deal more comfortable than lightning, I bet.’
Heavy footsteps reached the lamp room, but what emerged onto the hatch wasn’t a tiger of any kind, but a high-cheeked man with long, flowing blond hair. His eyes were close-set and intense. He was dressed entirely in brown suede and leather, with a fur collar. He was, against all odds, perfectly dry.
‘I received the signal,’ he said. ‘But the ward is up?’ Taking in the contents of the lamp room, he performed a double take on seeing Hector. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Never fear, Custer,’ said the twins’ father. ‘It’s all under control. These two just got themselves in a bit of a tangle.’
‘Not surprising, if you were lurking about.’
‘No, I swear. All I did was answer the alarm.’
Custer’s stiff disapproval eased slightly.
‘Well, lucky you came in time to bring everything under control, Heck.’
‘What?’ said Jack. ‘He didn’t do anything.’
‘It was us,’ said Jaide, her indignation a match for his. ‘We replaced the East Ward!’
‘Replaced? I hardly think so.’ Custer chuckled, patting her heavily on the head. ‘All’s well that ends well, I guess.’
‘Yes,’ said Hector. ‘The ward’s fine,’ he announced, almost as if he’d fi
xed it himself. ‘That’s what matters.’
Jack and Jaide swelled up in outrage.
Before they could say anything further, however, there was a bright flash outside, and a twisting, golden tendril of light grew out of the new ward, shot past the open door and Custer, split into two, and plunged into the hearts of the twins.
Jaide felt her Gift return in a rush and reached out to the wind around the lighthouse, welcoming it back. Jack felt energy pouring into him, fierce and uncontrollable, and had an overwhelming desire for the calming surrounds of darkness. The lighthouse’s lamp suddenly dimmed, and even the stars above seemed fainter.
