Pip and the Twilight Seekers Read Free Page A

Sam was now used to coming downstairs to the smell of freshly baked bread and the sight of little Frankie covered in flour from head to toe. She would sing quietly to herself in the back kitchen and Sam would watch her sadly, knowing she longed for her family.
    A crashing sound came at the door. Thud, thud, thud . Angry voices came through the air. Hooves could be heard clattering in the street outside. Sam panicked, and in trying to look and see who was there he neglected to ensure that Frankie was hidden.
    The door was being forced, so much so that Sam was coerced into opening it to avoid it being demolished altogether. He was greeted by the stout figure of Hector Stubbs and several other city men on horseback. Stubbs was the city mayor. But others knew him only as a warmonger and a troublemaker. His plan was to capture every hidden child to join his army to wage war on the forest. He was both savior and enemy to the youth of the hollow. He longed to triumph over the creatures of the Spindlewood, but the price was too much to pay. City folk would perish alongside their children. Fathers and sons, mothers and daughters. And what did Hector care? He sought only to improve the city.
    The city was at war with the forest. Creatures spilled out from the woods at night and filtered into the streets and alleyways. To gain their domination over the city they searched for the children to make prisoners of them. The authorities swept children from the streets to discourage the beasts from entering the city.
    This was no place to be growing up. But for those that happened to be there, there was no choice. To be a youngster in this place was a crime. Children were becoming a thing of the past, and those that were there moved through the city after dark. But to do so was to risk being caught by the twilight seekers, the creatures of the forest, or the authorities and the city guardian, Mister Jarvis. And though he was supposed to be on the side of the authorities, when it came to double dealing with the forest types, he couldn’t help himself.
    “Routine check, landlord,” groaned Stubbs. “We require to inspect the premises for children. Keeping children hidden is a violation of city laws in the present climate.” And he reeled off some old nonsense that Sam had heard before. He frequently expected their inquisitive visits and he was used to their prying eyes. He kept them at the door as long as he could to make sure that the children were given the chance they needed.
    Stubbs stormed through the inn, followed by his men. He showed no mercy, turning tables, pulling out drawers, and opening cupboards, and Sam winced at every move for he had no idea what Frankie had done to hide herself. She could be anywhere.
    Sam backed into the scullery. Frankie had gone but small footprints could be seen in the flour that lay upon the floor. Quickly he disturbed them with his feet, dispersing the white dust. Where had she gone?
    At length, Stubbs and his men gave in. No obvious traces could be seen. They’d peered into the cellar, skirted round the bedrooms and upstairs spaces, and even helped themselves to the drink.
    When at long last they left, Frankie emerged like a small ghost from the flour barrel. She was covered in white dust.

    Sam could only smile with relief. For now, at least, they would not be subject to further suspicion.
    But not far away, someone else thought differently. Someone who couldn’t get the image of Toad out of his mind. He lay in bed and all he could see was the Deadman’s Hand. The paint flaking from its sign as it swung, creaking in the chill wind, and that drawing on the wall, the one he had slit from corner to corner. He would see that face again, and soon. He was sure of that.

Edgar didn’t like the new house. He didn’t like his room, nor did he like his bed. He had terrible dreams and he wanted to return to the old place.
    “It’s the rotten soldier’s fault,” insisted Edgar.
    “Poor old Mister