Toil and Trouble: 16

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Tut Hill proved to be a long, long road clambering gently up an incline. It ran from Bury St. Edmunds out to a village called Fornham something, and it was mostly house-free. Only once we got as far as the village did we begin to see low stone walls and a smattering of properties set a little way back from the road.

It would have been nice if we had arrived to find a crumbling old cottage conveniently glowing in the dark, or overflowing with angry spirits, or something of the kind. But the houses there were mere ordinary brick structures, varied in style and age, all looking perfectly innocuous in the low light of late evening. A few had lights shining in the windows.

'What a fine vision of peace,' murmured Zareen approvingly.

I felt somewhat crestfallen. 'Either the cottage is very well camouflaged,' I suggested, 'or it is not here.'

'Could be either,' said Zareen cheerfully. Checking her maps, she pointed back the way we had come. 'I don't think any of the sightings ever came up this far. We've overshot the mark.'

My feet were hurting by then, for we had been trekking a while, and for a moment I felt like applying a heavy object to the general area of Zareen's head. I swallowed these unworthy feelings, and turned about, dragging Bill out of my bag as I did so. 'Bill,' I said gravely, 'we are in dire need of your assistance.'

'How may I be of use, Miss Vesper?'

He sounded sleepy. 'You weren't dozing, were you?'

'No! I have been fully alert since our last conversation! I assure you, I have not missed a single—' He stopped, and if a book could be said to grow tense, well, Bill was about as relaxed as a block of concrete just then. 'My mistress!' he said, in a proper hollow gasp, like he was in a highly dramatic stage play.

'See. I was hoping you might say something like that.' I held him out before me as we trudged a ways back down the hill. 'Lead the way, Mister Bill, if you please.'

Bill was off like a shot, dragging me behind him like he was an overexcited terrier and I the mere human appendage on the other end of the lead.

We plunged through a gap in the blackthorn hedge, and into the field beyond. Near enough pitch dark by then, and free of the lights of any nearby houses, there was little to see by; I had to trust to Bill's good sense (did he have any?) and hope he did not lead the three of us into a pit or something. Stumbling over uneven ground, we ventured perhaps a hundred metres into the field — and then stopped.

'She is close,' hissed Bill.

I still saw no house. 'Um, you sure?'

A spectral head flickered into view not two feet from my face, and my heart gave the kind of lurching shudder people sometimes die of. 'What's yer business wit' the Grey house?' it said, teeth clattering. It had hair but no skin, and great hollow eye sockets.

'Social visit,' said Zareen coolly.

There came a sudden rushing noise, as of the displacement of an awful lot of air. It was attended by a distant, high-pitched screaming which grew rapidly closer, and then there was the shadowy bulk of a cottage looming directly before us. It screamed wordless fury in a woman's voice, and Bill flinched in my hands.

'Say no more,' I muttered.

'Hello, Mistress,' said Bill weakly.

The screaming stopped.

The front door opened, and an eerie glow emanated from within.

'Right then,' I said, and stepped forward, Jay at my elbow.

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