The Phenomenals: A Game of Ghouls by F E Higgins

hurtful.’
    Folly shrugged. ‘He wasn’t always bad,’ she said. ‘He chose his own path. And you’re right. He probably did have his Blivet on him. But that doesn’t really
help us.’
    ‘We could ask him about it.’
    Instantly all heads turned towards Vincent. Citrine’s eyes widened. ‘You mean, summon him?’
    Now they all looked at Folly. Her mouth was set in a straight line, her blue eyes giving nothing away.
    ‘Don’t we need a bone?’ asked Citrine nervously.
    ‘I thought the Mangledore contained the only remaining bones of Axel, and I chucked that into the Tar Pit.’ Jonah was not in any way pleased at the prospect of more
Lurid-raising.
    ‘Well, that’s a . . . shame.’ Citrine was barely able to hide her own relief.
    Jonah yawned loudly and stretched. ‘Pluriba or no, it’s late. I’m off to bed.’
    That seemed to put paid to any more conversation about Axel and his Blivet and the others followed Jonah’s lead. Vincent, from his own bed, watched through slitted eyes as Folly tended the
fire before settling herself under her blankets with the book. It was rarely out of her sight. He sensed, as he had done these last few nights, that for some reason she was waiting for everyone to
go to sleep.
    He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander. He used to love that time between wakefulness and sleep. His father had told him many years ago of the Hypnagogue and the Hypnopomp; the first
led you into slumber and the second led you out. He had thought they were characters in a fairy tale, but now, as he immersed himself more and more in the life and lore of Degringolade, he wondered
if perhaps they really did exist. He could feel himself drifting off and remembered how this adventure had started: how he had been left at the border of Antithica province and had his first sight
of Degringolade’s adamantine roofs glittering in the morning sun. Now it was the snow that glittered.
    A face came floating in front of his eyes, a woman’s face, and he shook his head to make it go away. But the vision remained. He had seen the face before, in recent dreams, and he knew
those golden eyes, but think as he might he just couldn’t place who it was. He tried to look closer, but now he was too far gone towards sleep, his muscles paralysed. She was saying something
but he couldn’t hear, he could only see the white edge of her teeth on her lower lip as she shaped a
v
with her mouth.

C HAPTER 15
F AMILY R EUNION
    Vincent wasn’t sure what woke him. Perhaps a log shifting on the fire, or maybe the ever-present howling of the Lurids expressing indignation at their plight. It
wasn’t the Kronometer’s bell, which remained silent, or the clanking of the funicular railway. More likely it was his scar, which was throbbing, and he debated taking another slug of
Antikamnial. He sighed. He was trying to cut down on it. Folly had warned him against taking too much. It wasn’t that it was harmful per se, but it did have side effects and could become
addictive, which led to a whole other set of problems. Vincent was confident that he could do without it, but he also knew that it would take the edge off the pain.
    He looked to where Folly slept. Her voluble sleep-mutterings had disturbed him more than once these last few nights. But she lay in a dark unmoving shape under her blankets, blankets he had
stolen for the Kryptos.
    Light and heat came from the dying fire, but he was bemused by a chill breeze that washed over him and he was instantly filled with suspicion. He sat up quickly, fully awake and alert. Now he
knew what had disturbed his sleep: the sound of the Kryptos door closing. He glanced again at Folly and this time he could see what he had missed before. She was not under the heaped-up blankets;
the bed was empty.
    What was she up to? All those warnings about the dangers of the salt marsh and here she was going off on her own in the middle of the night. At least he thought it was the middle of