“And so here we are on this beautiful evening, the four of us in a house stuffed full of humans, curious about a collection of strange, useless artefacts that they believe can carry them across time. It’s very funny watching them cooing over these metal contraptions as though they magical. They really are unbelievably stupid.” He gazes at the crackling fire, “Do you want to know what your grandfather said about you, or should I say, your former self?”
“No, not really. I never liked him. I wish Goliath had killed him.”
“Human relations. Another stupidity. Well, your grandfather told me you had turned into a ladybird. I happen to like ladybirds very much. He was of course completely insane.”
I notice the ladybirds embroidered on his waistcoat, red and black and jewel-like.
“Do you like Mr Loveheart?”
“I think in some ways he is like me. Something very bad happened to him and has changed him.”
“Ah,” Mr Fingers sounds interested. “Do you think he is capable of redemption?”
“I think he has been poisoned. His heart has turned black. Maybe if he kills those responsible for hurting him, he can be free.”
“A wicked prince in a fairy tale, under a curse. How romantic. Let me tell you a secret, Miss Mirror. He is both terrified of you and yet he loves you. And this is because you can see straight into what is left of his soul.”
I don’t know how to respond so I gaze at the floor, the sound of the fire crackling and bubbling.
Mr Fingers bends his head towards me. “You know this house is on the edge of London, the great capital of the world. The river Thames oozes past this great house, like a giant serpent. Do you like London?”
“It was my home. When I think of it, I think of my sisters. It makes me feel a great sadness. It is part of my past.”
“It is my favourite place on the planet to visit. Full of magic, if you know where to look,” he says curiously.
“I am tired of your questions. What do you want with me?”
“And now we come to that.” He raises his hands to his chin, as though in prayer. “I want you to leave with me, tonight. Be a good girl and do as you are told and please me.”
“You plan to kill me?”
Mr Fingers takes off his spectacles. His eyes are two black holes. It is like looking at a shark. “No. I plan to eat you.”
Goliath has Mr Fingers by the throat, held up in the air like a rag doll. He is choking and spluttering. I hear his neck break. Goliath throws him to the floor and picks me up in his arms and runs through the house. I look behind to see Mr Fingers rise up with the help of Mr Loveheart.
We cannot kill him. We cannot kill him.
We race past the huge metal wheel and then down a long corridor. Goliath kicks in a double door, which swings open to reveal a large chamber with a few guests, including Mr Orion, examining a series of contraptions: a mirrored coffin, an enormous metal chamber with cogwheels and a set of shrunken heads displayed in a cabinet. The room is a dead end.
We turn to see Mr Loveheart and Mr Fingers by the door. Mr Fingers speaks. “Miss Mirror, come to me.”
Goliath looks around the room for an exit. He puts me on the floor and turns into an enormous wolf and leaps into the air. There’s a tremendous shriek from the people in the room. The giant wolf sinks his teeth into Mr Fingers’ neck, almost decapitating him. And then there is the sound of laughing and all is quiet and Goliath is no longer a wolf, but himself lying on the floor. Mr Fingers removes his hand from Goliath’s chest, holding his heart.
Goliath is not moving. I run over and touch his face. “You cannot be dead,” I cry. Something is breaking inside of me. Such rage. Mr Fingers towers over me. “Come with me, now. It is over.”
I step back from him into the middle of the room. Mr Fingers raises his voice. “Do not be foolish. Come along, child.”
I can feel those stupid metal contraptions around me, dead and unmoving. I can hear the shrunken heads, bickering, stuffed in the cabinet. I can feel the river Thames lapping around my feet. I can smell the blood on Mr Fingers’ hands. I let the rage boil through me like electricity.
And the machines start to move. A clattering, a shifting of cogs and mechanisms, rusty and ancient. They are shifting and pulsing. The great wheel spins round and round. The glass coffin shatters into a thousand pieces. The cage is hit by a lightning bolt and judders into action. The shrunken heads are chanting. I feel the river Thames turn black and boil.
Mr Loveheart and Mr Fingers stand transfixed like statues, utterly speechless. The house is full of screams and people running. I look at Goliath’s great body, lying on the floor and I say, “I am going to bring you back, whatever the consequences.”
The time machines whir. Time shifts. Every window in that great house breaks. Energy moves through me. The house spins like a spinning top.
And then it is quiet. Goliath rises from the floor and carries me out of that house while rest of them are caged in time, porcelain statues, only able to watch us leave. I blow a kiss to Mr Loveheart as Goliath kicks open the front door to the house and we walk into the moonlight, the stars above us shimmering like diamonds. The house of Loveheart and its inhabitants frozen like mannequins on a stage.
VII: Whatever the Consequences