The Monsters of Rookhaven, стр. 35

‘He can,’ said Mirabelle. ‘But I don’t think he fully understands them.’

‘Well, that makes two of us,’ said Jem, chuckling slightly.

‘Enoch won’t talk to me.’

‘Maybe he’s afraid to,’ said Jem.

‘Afraid?’

‘He seemed very shaken when you confronted him after Piglet’s escape,’ said Jem.

Mirabelle snorted. ‘You mean he’s afraid of me?’

‘No, not of you exactly. I think he thought he was doing his best for you.’

‘By lying to me?’

Jem looked pensive. ‘And what happened after Piglet escaped might have brought back painful memories for him.’

Mirabelle considered this. The Enoch she’d seen when Piglet’s mind had touched hers had seemed different, wounded somehow. But did that excuse what he’d done in keeping things from her? She didn’t think so.

Mirabelle had a sudden thought. ‘Would you like to do something?’

‘Like what?’ asked Jem.

Mirabelle grinned. ‘Cause trouble.’

Mirabelle experienced a delicious little stab of pleasure when she saw the looks on the faces of the townsmen as she burst into the banqueting hall. Mr Teasdale blinked in panic, looking from one companion to another, as if asking them to confirm what he was seeing. A muscle in Reverend Dankworth’s right cheek twitched and he looked both uneasy and slightly disgusted. Mr Fletcher’s demeanour didn’t change. His fists were balled on the table in front of him, and he was his usual barely restrained furious self.

Uncle Enoch clasped his hands together, knocked his thumbs against his forehead and sighed heavily.

‘What is it, Mirabelle?’

Mirabelle shrugged. ‘I’m not sure, Uncle. Is it a birthday party? Where’s the cake?’

Mirabelle noticed Odd trying to mask a chuckle.

There was a screech of wood on the floor as Mr Teasdale jumped up from his chair and pointed at her.

‘She shouldn’t be here!’ he shrieked.

Mirabelle shrugged. ‘Who’s to say who should or shouldn’t be anywhere?’

Now it was Aunt Eliza’s turn to suppress a smile.

‘Nor should she,’ said Reverend Dankworth, nodding at Jem, who was standing a couple of feet behind Mirabelle.

‘She’s my guest,’ said Mirabelle, ‘and this is my home. I’m permitted to take guests anywhere I want in my own home.’

‘She’s an outsider,’ said Dankworth, ‘and as such she is not party to the Covenant and must leave.’

Mirabelle looked at Jem then at Reverend Dankworth.

‘She isn’t leaving.’

Murmurs rippled around the room as the men conversed with each other. Mirabelle was conscious of the many furtive glances being thrown in her direction, but only one of the villagers was looking her directly in the eye.

‘Dr Ellenby, can you explain to me what exactly seems to be the problem?’ said Mirabelle.

Dr Ellenby, to his credit, kept his eyes locked with hers, and he seemed to be about to say something when Enoch laid a hand on his arm.

‘Marcus is bound by council rules, and as such he cannot—’

‘What am I, Uncle?’

Mirabelle noticed the swift flush on Dr Ellenby’s cheeks, the way Enoch’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and the way the rest of the men around the table froze.

‘It’s a simple question, Uncle. What am I?’

‘Mirabelle . . .’ Enoch looked pained.

‘Where did I come from? I didn’t come from the Ether, did I?’

‘Mirabelle, please . . .’

‘What was her name?’

Mirabelle shouted the last question and she was trembling with a rage so strong that it almost brought her to tears. Dr Ellenby lowered his eyes and looked at the table.

Mirabelle took a moment to compose herself. She was conscious that Jem was by her shoulder, and the very fact that she was nearby lent Mirabelle some measure of calm.

Mirabelle looked at them all. She closed a fist round her pendant.

‘I don’t know what I am.’

She looked each of them in the eye in turn.

‘But maybe there’s one way of finding out.’

Mirabelle took the pendant from round her neck. She flung it onto the table. Some of the men flinched. The pendant skimmed across the surface of the table and came to rest with a rattle in front of Enoch.

‘I’m going outside,’ she said.

She turned her back on them and headed towards the door. She experienced a grim satisfaction when she felt the movement of air behind her, as if they’d all risen at once. Enoch’s shout of ‘Mirabelle!’ was the icing on the cake.

Jem was instantly by her side. ‘Mirabelle.’

Mirabelle squeezed her shoulder. ‘I know what I’m doing.’

The truth was she had no idea what she was doing, but she felt compelled now by some greater force, by rage, by grief. She had to know.

Enoch shouted again as she made her way across the hallway and towards the main door. Mirabelle heard the unfurling of wings, and the nervous gibbering of Mr Teasdale and Reverend Dankworth behind her. Enoch rushed overhead and landed in front of the door, his wings spread wide, his face still human in aspect.

‘You can’t,’ he said, and Mirabelle was surprised by the pleading tone in his voice.

Mirabelle stopped before him and looked up at him defiantly.

‘I can, Uncle. And I will.’

They stared at each other for a few moments, then Enoch looked away and Mirabelle knew she had won. She stepped out into the cool shadows that shaded the steps, hesitating just for a moment. She looked at Jem.

‘What’s it like, walking in sunlight unprotected?’ she asked.

Jem shook her head. She was at a loss as to how to explain it.

Mirabelle stood on the last step. She closed her eyes.

Then she jumped.

She was aware of a strange sensation. Without her pendant she was exposed to the light of the sun. For the first time in her life she felt its rays. She stretched out her arms and she laughed.

She opened her eyes and looked at the crowd of people collected at the front door. She winked at Enoch.

‘Look, Uncle. Look at me. I didn’t burn.’

She looked at the dark patch on the ground.

‘Sorry, Uncle Cornelius, I don’t mean to mock.’

She looked at Jem.

‘What do you call this, this feeling?’ she asked Jem, rubbing her hands together as she felt a strange sensation that seemed to coat her skin.

‘You’re feeling warm,’ said