‘Stand back! No one touch it!’ Miss Stine cried.
Not that I had plans to. I’d felt the size of it when it had lain out dead; it was as big as a pony. And now, stood up, swaying like a drunk, its presence seemed to fill the room.
‘’Twas better left dead,’ said Mr Cox.
‘Too late for that.’ Mr Walton spoke through gritted teeth. ‘What do we do with it now?’
‘You can’t put it in that cage again,’ I said, remembering how miserable it had sounded. ‘Can’t you … I don’t know … take it back to where you caught it?’
‘And release it back into the wild? Don’t be ridiculous,’ Mr Walton snapped.
‘Quiet! All of you! I can’t think for your prattling!’ cried Miss Stine.
Her voice – shrill, excitable – made the wolf panic. It leapt from the table, dragging wires and knives with it in a whirlwind of legs, tongue, fur. It knocked me into Miss Stine.
‘Stay still!’ she gasped. ‘No one move!’
I cowered in fright. What I heard now was the ticking and scrabbling of claws on tiles as the wolf did a frenzied lap of the room. It crashed against the window, the walls. Candles were knocked flying. Bottles smashed to the floor. The air filled with its animal stink.
‘It’s gone berserk! It needs shooting!’ Mr Cox cried.
Eventually, the wolf slowed and began sniffing the ground.
‘I’ll fetch my rifle, shall I?’ Mr Cox said shakily.
Miss Stine almost laughed. ‘After what I’ve done? Don’t you realise what you’ve just witnessed, Mr Cox?’
I did.
Part of me felt as stunned and dazed as the wolf itself. Miss Stine had just brought a dead animal back to life, and she’d done it using electricity – lightning – the very thing that killed Mam and left me blind. I didn’t understand the static and the metal and how much was too much, only that somehow she’d made it work. It was an amazing, jaw-dropping thing.
I felt a giddy rush of excitement. What if electricity could bring humans back to life like it had done the wolf? Perhaps then Mam could’ve been saved. With Miss Stine’s equipment and knowledge, she’d still be here now. And Peg and Da and Mercy: I’d never have to lose them, either, or visit their sad, sorry graves in the churchyard.
It was almost too much to hope for.
No wonder Miss Godwin had been so thrilled. Anyone who’d lost someone dear would wish for this.
Yet my excitement quickly grew cold. There were other issues, other problems, and not just the unsettled feeling that had taken hold of me. Miss Stine had done something miraculous, but it left us with a very dangerous animal on our hands. And that smell … that smell …
‘Something’s burning,’ I said.
No one heard me: they were too busy bickering. The wolf, snapping and growling, sounded ready to spring.
‘Pass me the broom,’ Mr Walton said.
‘A rifle’s the weapon you really want, sir,’ said Mr Cox.
‘If either of you so much as touch that animal I’ll dismiss you both on the spot!’ Miss Stine cried.
‘Dismiss us?’ Mr Walton said. ‘Ha! We’ll have to get out of here alive first!’
‘Oh, don’t be so theatrical!’
‘I’m being practical!’
Miss Stine breathed deeply. ‘Then I don’t wish to hear your practicality, Mr Walton. It didn’t save your men in the Arctic, did it? I don’t believe it will save you now. The wolf is simply frightened. It won’t bite.’
I wasn’t so sure. The wolf was making a strange growling noise in its throat. The burning smell had got stronger too. There wasn’t a fire alight in this room. Yet I could detect smoke.
In order to get electricity, the storm had to strike the roof pole, that’s what Miss Stine said. And I knew what happened to things hit by lightning. Something was definitely burning. A roof struck by lightning was the likely place for a fire to start. And when I thought who was upstairs, sound asleep in bed, my blood turned cold.
Peg.
‘Fire!’ I said, shaky at first then in proper panic, ‘FIRE! Oh heck, there’s a FIRE!’
The door was to my right, I recalled. Stumbling towards it, I bashed against boxes and chairs.
‘Stand still! Don’t run!’ Miss Stine yelled.
Whether she meant me or not, I didn’t know. Didn’t care.
‘Arrrghhh!’ Mr Walton cried. ‘Get it off me! I beg you!’
There was a frenzy of claws. Snarling. Snapping. Something sounding horribly wet. Then came a rip, a tearing noise like a rabbit being skinned. And gurgling and gasping that was definitely human.
I blocked out the rest: it was too awful to contemplate. All that mattered was reaching Peg.
Out in the passage, the smoke was already thickening. I couldn’t remember the way back to the main part of the house – was it left or right? I went left. The passage ended abruptly in a wall. Cussing myself, I turned and rushed back the way I’d just come. With each stride the smoke got stronger. My throat grew tight and hot. Then underfoot the floor changed from flagstones to marble and I knew I’d reached the main hall.
There were people everywhere, shouting and sloshing water and running from room to room. There wasn’t a single second to lose. Then someone shouted. ‘Get that girl out of here! It’s not safe! Now the attic’s alight, the rest of the house won’t be far behind.’
I’d been spotted.
Footsteps rushed towards me, then faltered. ‘But I’ve to fill these water buckets!’
‘Do it, then! Quickly!’
And in the panic, I was forgotten.
Finding the nearest door, I ducked behind it before anyone could lay hands on me and haul me outside. I pulled the door shut. Now I stood in some sort of dark cupboard, and I didn’t know what to do next. The smoke was already making me cough, and I still had to reach Peg.
As I stood fidgeting my toe hit something unexpectedly hard. It was, I realised, a step. There were more, going up and up. My heart leapt. This wasn’t a cupboard. It was a whole flight of stairs, probably the ones used by servants to carry laundry and bedpans so no one important ever saw. Seizing the handrail, I charged upwards.
The stairs didn’t stop at a landing. They twisted round and round for what felt like miles. The smoke got thicker. Hotter. Each breath hurt like knives. At the top of the stairs the heat was so fierce it had used up all the air. Above my head, I heard strange hissing sounds. I smelled smoke, wood, burning hair. Bright patterns danced before my eyes. And then came another whoosh of heat.
Peg was in here somewhere. I had to get to her. But I couldn’t remember which room was ours. Mam would’ve known. She’d have been brave enough to keep going too, and not stand around dithering.
‘Think, Lizzie, think,’ I said out loud. Immediately, I started coughing. My only hope was to do what I’d done before and feel along the wall.
I moved down the passage, my free hand covering my mouth. Above me, the hissing sound grew louder. The smoke was so thick I could taste it. Sweat stuck my hair to my face and neck.
Suddenly I tripped, lurching forward into space and falling hard on my knees. But when I stood up again, I laughed out loud. That stupid single step had caught me out last time. It meant I was right outside our room.
The bedroom door was already open.
‘Peg?’ I cried. ‘Are you there? Wake up! I’ve come to get you!’
Tripping over those same blasted chairs, I somehow found my way to the bed. The sheets were thrown back. The bed was empty. My legs sagged with relief. But there wasn’t time to even gather my wits. Right above me, the ceiling groaned. Dust fell in my face. In my mouth. Gasping, I found the door again, the single step in the passageway. Then I had to stop and throw up.
At the top of the staircase, I hesitated. My head felt like it was lifting off my shoulders. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Peg had got out. She was safe. All was going to be fine. Before my eyes everything seemed to sparkle. Then the walls closed in around me.