Battle of the Beasts

Kristoff reached up with a look of rage, chanting, starting to generate a blue lightning bolt over his palm.

“No! Mr Kristoff! Please!” cried Angel, trying to hide under the table.

Kristoff gritted his teeth as the bolt grew larger, eyeing Angel with intent to fry, when one of the doors opened.

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The man who entered the room wore a black velvet robe and a tall, powdered wig, but he was so old and crooked that the wig didn’t stand properly on his head – it pointed forward like the prow of a ship. He hobbled up with a cane, tapping, until he got to Kristoff, who promptly dropped to one knee.

“Aldrich,” Kristoff said, kissing the old man’s hand.

Brendan wrote: Aldrich Hayes!

Will mouthed, Who?

Aldrich Hayes turned his head (and wig) up so that he could look at Kristoff. This movement revealed his face, which, despite the very serious situation, almost made Brendan laugh. The old man looked like a mad clown, with bright white powder caked from his chin to his forehead. His cheeks even had a rosy glow brought out by two bright red spots.

After Brendan stifled his laugh, he thought, If that’s really Aldrich Hayes, leader of the Lorekeepers, he should technically be a corpse! He looks great for his age!

“Denver,” Hayes said. His voice was throaty and strong; it easily filled the room. “How often must I remind you? When you are inside the Bohemian Club, you are required to wear our wigs and make-up.”

“With all due respect,” said Kristoff, gesturing to himself, “I think that would be like putting lipstick on a pig.”

Hayes regarded the putrid flaps and scars of Denver Kristoff’s face. “You do have a point,” he said. “There probably isn’t enough make-up in this entire city to hide your grotesque complexion! Now what sort of trouble have you gotten into? Who is she?”

Eleanor spoke up. “He kidnapped me from my riding lesson—”

“You kidnapped a child?” said Hayes.

“I had no other option—”

“And who is this man hiding under the table?”

“That’s Angel, a driver, he works for me—”

“Denver!” Hayes bellowed. “When you arrived, I never expected you to bring all this trouble. ‘Weaving Spiders Come Not Here,’ am I right?”

Brendan was writing: That’s Aldrich Hayes. Leader of the Lorekeepers. The dude was old in 1906! He must be magically preserved.

“Hey! Ancient guy!” Eleanor said. “If you get me out of here, my dad can recommend a really good surgeon for your hip or whatever—”

“Quiet,” snapped Hayes.

Kristoff said, “I apologise if I’ve caused trouble. I’m forever in your debt. But I will remind you that over a century ago, I made a great sacrifice for this club.”

“And what was that?”

“I discovered the hidden powers of The Book of Doom and Desire,” said Kristoff. “And did I keep them to myself? No. I hid the book away in my own work to keep it from threatening the world.”

“Which is why I welcomed you back,” Hayes said. “But my generosity only goes so far—”

“I need to find Cordelia Walker,” Kristoff said, cutting him off. “I cannot waste time. I’m certain that Cordelia knows where my daughter is.”

“Your daughter is dead,” said Hayes. “The Walkers got rid of her.”

“I thought she was gone too,” said Kristoff, “but not any more.”

“And why not?”

“Because I’ve been keeping tabs on the Walkers.”

“What?”

“Following them to school, getting reports from Angel—”

“You’ve been going out in public? Are you insane?”

“Listen to me,” said Kristoff. “I’ve learned that the Walkers didn’t precisely kill Dahlia. This child banished her.”

“To where, exactly?” asked Hayes, turning to Eleanor.

“I dunno,” said Eleanor. “I just said ‘the worst place ever’. I didn’t exactly have time to think clearly on account of trying not to get killed an’ all!”

“So we really have no idea where your daughter is,” said Hayes.

“No,” said Kristoff. “But I think the answer may start with Cordelia Walker. I couldn’t find her, so I took Eleanor instead. These children are like wild dogs: They operate in packs. It’s only a matter of time before Cordelia shows up. And when she does, I believe she will lead me to Dahlia.”

“That all sounds very logical, except for one thing,” said Hayes.

“What’s that?”

“Why would you even want to find your daughter? The last time she saw you, she tried to kill you!”

“Ah, but you don’t understand daughters,” said Kristoff. “One moment they despise you, the next they love you.”

That’s actually true, Brendan wrote to Will.

“This has gone on long enough,” Hayes said. He stepped closer to Kristoff, slinking under him and looking up like a snake. “Do you understand the enormous historical significance of this organisation? The Bohemian Club has shaped the world! We have chosen presidents! We have influenced world politics! And we thrive on one thing … secrecy. But you have broken the rules by kidnapping a child and bringing her here!!”

Hayes cracked his cane on Kristoff’s foot.

“I’m sorry. I just want to see Dahlia … I just want to get my daughter back,” said Kristoff. His voice hitched.

Brendan felt something unspool in his chest. He couldn’t believe it, but he suddenly understood the man. Kristoff was trying to do the same thing his mom was: keep a family together.

Eleanor had no such sympathies: “Hey, waffle face, if you want a family so much, join a zombie dating service! I want to go home!”

“You will, little girl, soon enough,” Hayes said, turning to Angel. “You!”