creature, who climbed cautiously over the table and lowered her head for him to pat.
‘You’ve been a good girl? Have you? Have you?’ he said, stroking her gently.
Abigail nuzzled Mr Tock’s side, making an almost-melodic metal scraping sound.
‘Oh, she certainly has, Mr Tock, sir,’ said Rapple. ‘Never a peep from her, sir.’
‘Such a beautiful creature, don’t you think? Don’t you? Don’t you?’ said Tock, as he patted her razor-blade snout.
A movement near his foot made him look down. ‘What have we here?’ he said, stooping to pick up a wriggling object.
Rapple cast a furtive glance at Baines. ‘Oh yes, Mr Tock,’ he said. ‘Er, we’ve been meaning to tell you…’
‘Tell me what?’
‘It’s Abigail, sir. She’s been making things again,’ said Baines.
Mr Tock peered at the object he held between his fingers. From where Julius stood it was just a squirming black dot.
‘Abigail, my dear,’ said Mr Tock, in a singsong voice. ‘What did I say about making little things? What did I say? What? What?’
Abigail hung her head low. A metallic sound rattled around the interior of the house as she began to tremble. Mr Tock put the squirming thing in his pocket. Everyone was silent, even the rats. Abigail became still too.
Julius blinked.
A moment passed.
‘Come closer, Abigail,’ said Tock.
Abigail pulled back an inch.
‘Abigail,’ said Tock. ‘Do I have to repeat myself ? Do I? Do I?’
She raised a foot and took one step closer. Then she lifted her face towards his. Tock stroked her snout.
‘There, there,’ he said. ‘Nothing to fear, my dear, nothing at all.’
Abigail’s body loosened.
Then Tock took a hold of her head. Abigail flinched. Her knees buckled slightly.
‘I am the Maker, not you,’ said Tock. ‘Do you understand? Do you? Do you?’
Abigail nodded her head.
‘Good,’ said Tock. Then he stabbed his finger through her eye.
Baines jumped. Abigail shrieked, making the glass in front of Julius’s face vibrate.
Tock held her head firmly and pulled his finger out. Shards of glass fell to the floor.
‘Shall I blind you? Shall I? Shall I?’ he said, like a spoilt child, furious with his tin soldier. Abigail trembled as he held his finger over her other eye.
Cripes, Higgins. The man’s deranged.
‘I think I’ve seen enough,’ whispered Mr Flynn. ‘Let’s go.’
Julius and Mr Flynn crept across the yard. Mr Flynn edged through the gate first. Julius opened it a little wider.
It creaked.
Julius froze. He and Mr Flynn listened. There were no sounds.
That was close, Higgins.
Julius turned his head to look at the house. Tock’s pale face appeared at the window and smiled at him with his too-small teeth.
‘Run,’ said Mr Flynn.
He grabbed Julius by the shoulder, and hoisted him into the dark fog. They would have to use memory to find their way back, there was nothing else to help them.
Julius held tight to the flap of Mr Flynn’s coat pocket. He concentrated on Mr Flynn’s sounds and movements, as he could barely see him.
A sharp hiss cut through the darkness behind them, like a hundred Lucifers being lit at once.
Then another.
Julius looked back as they ran. Through the fog he saw two pale yellow lights rise up as if they had been thrown. They hissed over their heads and landed on the ground between them and the way out of the wasteground.
‘They’ll see our position if keep going that way,’ whispered Mr Flynn.
The gate groaned. Another light ignited and hissed, then another. They landed to the left and right.
They’re making a cordon to cut us off, Higgins.
Julius heard running feet across the boggy ground—heavy footsteps and light ones, and the sound a giant creature might make if it was made of metal.
More lights ignited and flew through the damp fog. A single red light glowed dimly, showing Abigail’s position.
A dark figure ran at them. Mr Flynn jumped aside and Julius heard the crack of bare knuckles against bone,
‘You’ve been a good girl? Have you? Have you?’ he said, stroking her gently.
Abigail nuzzled Mr Tock’s side, making an almost-melodic metal scraping sound.
‘Oh, she certainly has, Mr Tock, sir,’ said Rapple. ‘Never a peep from her, sir.’
‘Such a beautiful creature, don’t you think? Don’t you? Don’t you?’ said Tock, as he patted her razor-blade snout.
A movement near his foot made him look down. ‘What have we here?’ he said, stooping to pick up a wriggling object.
Rapple cast a furtive glance at Baines. ‘Oh yes, Mr Tock,’ he said. ‘Er, we’ve been meaning to tell you…’
‘Tell me what?’
‘It’s Abigail, sir. She’s been making things again,’ said Baines.
Mr Tock peered at the object he held between his fingers. From where Julius stood it was just a squirming black dot.
‘Abigail, my dear,’ said Mr Tock, in a singsong voice. ‘What did I say about making little things? What did I say? What? What?’
Abigail hung her head low. A metallic sound rattled around the interior of the house as she began to tremble. Mr Tock put the squirming thing in his pocket. Everyone was silent, even the rats. Abigail became still too.
Julius blinked.
A moment passed.
‘Come closer, Abigail,’ said Tock.
Abigail pulled back an inch.
‘Abigail,’ said Tock. ‘Do I have to repeat myself ? Do I? Do I?’
She raised a foot and took one step closer. Then she lifted her face towards his. Tock stroked her snout.
‘There, there,’ he said. ‘Nothing to fear, my dear, nothing at all.’
Abigail’s body loosened.
Then Tock took a hold of her head. Abigail flinched. Her knees buckled slightly.
‘I am the Maker, not you,’ said Tock. ‘Do you understand? Do you? Do you?’
Abigail nodded her head.
‘Good,’ said Tock. Then he stabbed his finger through her eye.
Baines jumped. Abigail shrieked, making the glass in front of Julius’s face vibrate.
Tock held her head firmly and pulled his finger out. Shards of glass fell to the floor.
‘Shall I blind you? Shall I? Shall I?’ he said, like a spoilt child, furious with his tin soldier. Abigail trembled as he held his finger over her other eye.
Cripes, Higgins. The man’s deranged.
‘I think I’ve seen enough,’ whispered Mr Flynn. ‘Let’s go.’
Julius and Mr Flynn crept across the yard. Mr Flynn edged through the gate first. Julius opened it a little wider.
It creaked.
Julius froze. He and Mr Flynn listened. There were no sounds.
That was close, Higgins.
Julius turned his head to look at the house. Tock’s pale face appeared at the window and smiled at him with his too-small teeth.
‘Run,’ said Mr Flynn.
He grabbed Julius by the shoulder, and hoisted him into the dark fog. They would have to use memory to find their way back, there was nothing else to help them.
Julius held tight to the flap of Mr Flynn’s coat pocket. He concentrated on Mr Flynn’s sounds and movements, as he could barely see him.
A sharp hiss cut through the darkness behind them, like a hundred Lucifers being lit at once.
Then another.
Julius looked back as they ran. Through the fog he saw two pale yellow lights rise up as if they had been thrown. They hissed over their heads and landed on the ground between them and the way out of the wasteground.
‘They’ll see our position if keep going that way,’ whispered Mr Flynn.
The gate groaned. Another light ignited and hissed, then another. They landed to the left and right.
They’re making a cordon to cut us off, Higgins.
Julius heard running feet across the boggy ground—heavy footsteps and light ones, and the sound a giant creature might make if it was made of metal.
More lights ignited and flew through the damp fog. A single red light glowed dimly, showing Abigail’s position.
A dark figure ran at them. Mr Flynn jumped aside and Julius heard the crack of bare knuckles against bone,
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