21

Four carcasses twitched and shuddered across the wooden floor while we took a well-deserved drink. Eight in total had attacked Serenity House this evening.

"I think we can safely say your ball was a riot." I couldn't help myself, I had to say it. Behind me, the soldiers chortled with laughter.

"It did end rather spectacularly, didn't it?" Seth smiled.

Frank appeared on the top step. "Seth," he called. "We think we've pinpointed the hive in the grid Ella identified."

Seth handed off his sword to the butler, who had materialised at his elbow. How did he do that? He must have secret doorways that exited in thin air. "Rally your men, lieutenant, we have our target."

"Yes, captain." The soldier saluted and jogged up the stairs.

I took in the mess on the dance floor. "We need to identify them if we can, and the ones outside." Where did they come from, and how far had they travelled? I needed names to inscribe in my notebook, before their bodies were consigned to the bonfire. A tinge of guilt settled in my stomach. I hated leaving a mess for the staff to clean up, but these were extraordinary circumstances.

Seth took the weapon from my fingers and leaned close. "Warrens will have everything in hand. I trust him implicitly. Besides, I will make sure the staff receive a bonus and an extra day off for tidying up after us."

I smiled up at him; he had read my mind. Then I glanced down at my gorgeous dress, completely unsuitable for venturing into a nest of vermin. "I need a change of clothes. And sensible shoes."

He grinned. It wasn't the first time we had that conversation. "There's a spare set for you in my study. We'll meet you outside in five minutes."

I toed off the glittering heels, leaving them sitting on the stairs like an exotic bauble, as I ran barefoot to his study. A quick glance around and I found a folded pile on a chair: trousers, a shirt and a vest, with a pair of woollen socks and boots sitting next to it. As I changed, I wondered if Warrens had left the clothing, or had Seth ordered it?

Outside, the rows of fleeing motorcars made a procession of winking lights, flitting down the road. Only a few vehicles remained, but Henry still manned the bike. I threw my arms around him, relieved that he was safe.

"Did you see any out here? Are you all right?" Although he probably guessed at what transpired inside, once all the women ran screaming out the front door and piled into their motors.

He patted my back in an unspoken answer to my questions. Satisfied, I let him go. He arched an eyebrow at my change in garb, and thumbed at the rapidly disappearing guests. Then he made a lumbering gesture.

"Yes," I said. "Uninvited guests." I reached in and grabbed the katana. Even though he had finally found his voice, I suspected he would never be a talker. "You should head back, protect the others. I'm going with this lot." Henry hadn't abandoned me when the guests fled. He had stayed put and waited, despite the risk to him. I kissed his cheek, and trotted over to where the soldiers assembled.

The army boys had their own truck. Men piled in and took seats on either side of an assortment of large crates. Seth had changed from his tails into more practical wear of a cotton shirt and rough linen pants. He still held the cavalry sabre, and had found a scabbard for the weapon where it hung low on his hip. He took my hand and helped me into a large touring car as though we were embarking on picnic, not a seek-and-destroy mission. Frank took the wheel, and we drove off into the night.

Up until now, I had been carried away with the momentum of events around me. With the luxury of quiet time to reflect, a small part of me pointed out that taking on a possible vermin hive in the pitch black might not be the smartest tactical move. Even with a full moon beaming down on us.

"We don't know what we are facing. Do you think it would perhaps be wiser to wait until morning, so at least we can see what we're beheading?" I had always thought of the night as their time, while we waited safe behind doors.

"They attacked people under my roof, Ella. One woman has days, maybe a week, before she will turn." His fist clenched before he relaxed it and laid his palm flat on his knee. The woman would be confined and watched. As soon as she turned, someone would have to remove her head and torch her body. The trick was doing it before she attacked someone and perpetuated the virus. "They are becoming bolder. Eight of them attacked my house, and four waltzed into the ballroom. We need to know why. What drove them out? Were they perhaps attracted by the noise and smell of so many people?"

There was one little thing that bothered me about my bee theory. If they thought their queen or hive was under threat, they relocated. Had the soldiers spooked them?

"What if, assuming they do nest, they thought it was compromised? Perhaps they were out looking for a new one?"

He stared at me; there was a thought no one wanted to contemplate. Were they looking for a new home for their queen, or did their numbers swell so greatly that they needed to expand? Or worse, what if there were numerous hives that all sought to join together to make an army of thousands? There was so much we didn't understand. We were grasping in the dark, just like the vermin.

He blew out a sigh. "We need answers, Ella. And we have supplies in the truck, lanterns and such."

My stomach tightened. He was right. The vermin fled the cities as though called by the Pied Piper. Something was luring them, and it made the countryside all the more dangerous. I could produce numerous logical theories, but without facts or proof, it was only a theory. Meanwhile, if we remained isolated and alone, they could pick us off and few would even know. I hoped Alice, Magda, and Stewart were safely in bed by the time Henry made it back. It was all too horrible to think about. I needed a conversation change to something only slightly less horrible.

"How long have you known I am just a servant?" I couldn't meet his gaze, still struggling to believe the way he had defended me against Elizabeth. Better a sword at my side than a knife in my back—words to make a girl swoon.

He chuckled. "The day I met you. I told Frank afterwards that a girl with a sword nearly took my head off. He said, that would be Ella."

I didn't know if I was going to hug Alice when I saw her next, or throttle her. She and Frank played me, and I still didn't understand to what end. "If you knew who I was, why didn't you say anything?"

He picked up my hand and interlaced our fingers. I had to look up. The moon overhead lit his eyes, turning them to pure silver. "I thought if your position in society didn't worry me, that you in turn wouldn't fixate on mine."

I frowned. He was a duke, and the most eligible bachelor in England. It wasn't like I could scoff and dismiss him as beneath me. "You could have your pick of European princesses, and the finest bred women in the country fall at your feet."

Sadness crept into his gaze. "They all want my title and wealth, not me. How many would be happy with a modest cottage and quiet nights by the fire? If I was an infantryman and returned from war simply to take up a position in service, do you think Louise would still be interested in me?"

I glanced at Frank, his strong hands wrapped around the steering wheel. There was more to people than the place assigned to them by society. I just never realised those at the top also experienced it, in their own way. "No, but Alice would have, and she is easily one hundred times better than Louise will ever be."

"And you." He raised my hand and kissed my fingertips. Then the smile returned to his face. "Frank thought you would bolt like a rabbit if I knocked on the kitchen door asking after you. He suggested it was better to keep quiet and let events unfold, with just a nudge from Alice. This way, we had a chance to get to know one another."

I let that scenario play out in my mind and had to laugh. "If you had knocked on the kitchen door, Louise would have stuffed me down the well and nailed the lid shut."

It should have been romantic, a ride in the back of a luxury motor through quiet country lanes. The scenery was washed to palest silver by the overhead moon, unobscured by any clouds. Instead, I wondered what on earth I had got myself into, leading the charge of a truck loaded with weapons and soldiers into a den of monsters.

Frank turned off the lane and stopped by a gate. He jumped out and swung it open, grinning at me as he hopped back in the motor. "Hang on, it gets rough from here on in."

He wasn't wrong. I thought my teeth would rattle loose as we bumped and jostled over the paddocks. Low hanging trees ringed the edges, occasionally looming out of the dark to wave their limbs at us. I imagined them warning us away, telling us to go back and miming 'shoo!' with their branches.

The headlights picked out a shape in the dark that rose up and battled the moon. Before we ploughed into it, Frank pulled the car to a stop.

It looked like we were nestled at the foot of a hill, one that curled around the parked vehicles. After the long ride, and given my distracted state, I tried to think of where we were. There was something about the shape, too uniform and smooth. My mind recalled the area we found on the map, circled by dots of yellow and blue. I closed my eyes and remembered what lay within that enormous area that matched the shape before me.

"The old burial mound."

I opened my eyes to gaze at a leftover relic from the Iron Age. Every child knew about the haunted mound, said to contain the bones of ancient warriors. The braver lads sometimes tried to impress the girls by digging down, but most stopped before they reached too far. I knew from my own curiosity that about half a foot down you encountered stone with no way to break through. We scared each other with stories of how ghosts roamed the fields at night, looking for naughty children to drag back under the earth. Perhaps not too far from the truth, if it contained a hive of vermin.

"Keep your eyes open men, there could be turned lurking in the trees," Seth said, as the soldiers piled out of the truck and dragged the wooden crates behind them.

A smell assaulted my nose. The reek of a compost heap gone bad, as though what the earth enclosed wasn't giving into decomposition without a fight. A low rustle drifted through the trees, but it didn't sound quite right.

"Listen." I held up a hand for silence. It wasn't the rustle of leaves at all, but an eerie moan coming from the mound. The quiet wail set my teeth on edge.

"Blimey," someone said in the dark. "How many are in there?"

I didn't want to think about that, but however many were in there, at least they were missing eight of their brethren. That was the thing about my bee and hive hypothesis; it was just a theory until you had to confront an ancient burial mound jam packed with vermin intent on making you one of them.

One soldier skirted the edge of the pack, waiting for his orders, but something tugged about his form and gait. I peered into the dark, trying to see by the scant light of the moon.

"Henry?" I said his name, while muttering to myself, "it better not be". He was supposed to head home to protect the others and keep himself safe.

"Yes," came his soft lilt, his vocal cords still protesting after long months without use, save for his night-time screams. He stepped closer, as containers were levered opened and all sorts of equipment pulled forth. High-powered lanterns were set around the perimeter and handed to each of us.

I held up mine and wagged a finger at him. "What are you doing here?"

He took a deep breath and stood tall. He tapped his chest and then pointed at me. "Watch. Your. Back," he whispered, labouring over each word, making it three sentences instead of a throwaway comment.

"Oh, Henry." My heart tightened for my childhood friend. He left his voice and his comrades lying in the mud on a far off battlefield, and yet he followed me to keep me safe. I squeezed his arm and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you. But don't go getting yourself bitten, or Magda and Alice will never forgive me."

He gave the briefest smile and looked down. I prayed that the miracle this night had wrought in returning his voice would not be undone by whatever lay hidden in the barrow.

Seth clapped him on the shoulder. "Go grab a rifle, soldier."

Henry saluted and trotted over to an opened crate. Once we had some light, we discovered a narrow entrance where vermin had clawed away the dirt and stone. Scratches and scuffs showed in the earth, creating a trampled down track, like animals made leading to a watering hole. The makeshift entrance looked like a giant rabbit hole, except this didn't contain a bundle of cute and fluffy. I cast a lantern over the scrapings, and immediately wished I hadn't. What I had thought were discarded pebbles were actually fingers. They must have worn loose as they ploughed the hard earth.

I laid a hand on Seth's arm. "This could be an ambush. Either in there, or surrounding us out here."

I didn't want to die this night, not when I finally had something to live for. Henry had broken months of silence and spoken. Father's eyes showed a returned consciousness long missing, and his fingers moved underneath mine. I had struck a blow against Step-mother and needed only to finish her off. And Seth, well, I didn't know where we were going, but I wanted the opportunity to find out.

"What's the plan?" I asked as we assembled in the circle of light.

"Let's see what we have, first," Seth said.

I learned why his men respected him during the war. He gave orders in a calm and confident manner. It seemed a role he was born to play, but something more than that. He didn't resume the role of captain; he unveiled it, as though their commander had always been amongst us.

That was when I made the connection in my mind and looked up at him. "You're still with the army, aren't you?"

His gaze widened for an instant, and then he nodded. "The war is not over yet, and there is much to be done. Are you scandalised? A duke with an occupation?"

I shrugged. At least it showed he wanted to do something with his life, and contribute more to society than the continuation of his gene pool. "It's just you're not what I expected."

"Touché." A grin touched his lips, and he directed his men.

In no time we were split into four groups, lanterns and weapons in hand, and set off to explore the burial mound. One heavily armed group patrolled the enveloping trees, to ensure no vermin crept up behind us on their way back to the hive.

The mound was roughly oval in shape and ran for a length of over sixty feet. The grassed sides rose twenty to thirty feet above our heads. We took our time, trying to spot other access points by the feeble moonlight and our hurricane lamps. All the time, the low moan kept leaking from the earth, and shivers washed over my skin.

Another group of soldiers stayed at the rear of the mound, while the rest of us circled back. With each step, I seemed to collect a stone in my stomach, and I was weighed down by the time we regrouped. I eyed the small break in the earth. There was only one way in that we found—straight through their front door. At least with bees, you could smoke the hive and make sure they were all sleepy before you stuck your hand in. You didn't have to worry about having enough room to swing your sword either.

We stared at each other. No one was volunteering to be the first one to slip through the darkened door and into their nest.

"We could blow a hole through the top," the lieutenant suggested.

"London wants the queen alive, if there is one." Seth rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "But take your group up top and start digging, we need another egress."

"I'll go in," I said.

All eyes in the group focused on me. One of the soldiers laughed and feet were shuffled.

"Do you really think we would stand around out here, while you went through on your own?" Seth asked.

"I'm the smallest. I'm fast and I'm used to doing this. Besides, I don't intend to hang around. It will be a quick look and back out." While the men around me were soldiers, all carrying the burden of their time in the Great War, I had more practical experience with this particular enemy—one that didn't fall to the ground dead when shot or bayonetted.

He ground his jaw, the movement cast in shadow. "No, but we appreciate your offer. Jack and Jake will go."

Two soldiers stepped forward, and I blinked. Before me I saw one man standing next to a mirror, so exactly did they mimic one another. Even the shuffle of their feet and fidget of their fingers was so perfect to be identical.

"In and out lads, and report back." He waved them off.

"Twins?" My mouth blurted the blindingly obvious observation.

Seth watched them check each other's rifles and pick up a lantern. "They work exceptionally well in tight spots. I've found they don't need to talk to cover each other, one knows exactly what the other is thinking or doing."

Practical, but a little eerie. The twins crouched low, and with a final thumbs up, they were swallowed by the dark mouth.