The Prince of Mist (Niebla 1)

‘But, then …’ Max said in a low voice.

Roland gestured to Max to let him continue.

‘My grandfather was taken to the town hospital and was delirious for days. When he recovered he decided, as a token of his gratitude for the care he’d received, to build a lighthouse on the cliff top and prevent a similar tragedy from happening again. In time, he became the lighthouse keeper.’

The three friends fell into a long silence after Roland had ended his story. At last, Roland looked at Alicia, then at Max.

‘Roland,’ said Max, trying to find words that would not upset his friend, ‘there’s something in this story that doesn’t quite add up. I don’t think your grandfather has told you everything.’

Roland remained silent. Then, smiling faintly, he nodded a few times, very slowly.

‘I know,’ he murmured. ‘I know.’

*

Irina felt her hands go numb as she tried, unsuccessfully, to force open the door. She turned round, gasping, leaned against it and pushed with all her might. She couldn’t help staring at the key that was slowly turning in the wardrobe lock.

At last the key stopped moving and, as if pushed out by invisible fingers, it fell to the floor. Little by little, the door creaked open. Irina tried to scream but she couldn’t find enough breath even to whisper.

From the darkness of the wardrobe a shape emerged. For a second she felt as if her heart was going to stop from sheer panic. Then she sighed. It was her cat. It was only her cat. She took a deep breath and knelt down to pick it up but then she noticed that behind the cat, at the back of the wardrobe, there was something, or someone, else. The cat opened its jaws, issued a deep, horrifying sound like the hiss of a snake, then melted into the darkness with its master. A smile filled with light appeared and two glowing eyes like liquid gold settled on hers as the voices pronounced her name in unison. Irina screamed and threw herself against the bedroom door; this time it gave way and she fell onto the floor of the hallway. Without losing a second, she hurled herself down the stairs, feeling the cold air of the voices on the nape of her neck.

*

Andrea Carver was walking through the front door when she heard the scream. She looked up and watched in horror as Irina jumped from the top of the stairs, her face frozen in fear. She called out, but it was too late. The child came tumbling down, step after step, like a dead weight. Andrea Carver rushed towards her daughter and cradled her head. A tear of blood ran across Irina’s forehead. Mrs Carver touched her neck and felt her pulse: it was weak. Fighting hysteria, she lifted her daughter’s body and tried to think what she should do next.

As the worst five seconds of her life passed before her, Andrea Carver raised her eyes and looked up at the top of the stairs. Sitting on the last step was Irina’s cat, and it was staring at her. Andrea held the animal’s cruel, mocking gaze for a brief

moment and then, feeling her daughter’s body shudder in her arms, she reacted and hurried to the telephone.

7

AS THEY APPROACHED THE BEACH HOUSE, MAX noticed a strange car parked out in front. Roland saw it too and frowned.

‘That’s Dr Roberts’s car.’

Alicia went pale.

‘Something’s wrong,’ she whispered.

Roland raced ahead and Max had trouble catching up with him, even though his friend was also carrying Alicia. When they were just a few metres from the house Alicia jumped off the bicycle and ran towards the porch. Max, panting, followed her while Roland took care of the bicycles. Maximilian Carver, ashen-faced and with a glazed look in his eyes, greeted them at the door.

‘What’s happened?’ Alicia said, her voice trembling.

Her father hugged her. Alicia let him wrap his arms around her – his hands were shaking and when he spoke his voice kept breaking. Max felt something tighten in his throat. He had never seen his father like this.

‘Irina’s had an accident. She’s in a coma. We’re waiting for the ambulance to take her to hospital.’

‘Is Mum all right?’ asked Alicia.

‘She’s inside with Irina and the doctor. There’s nothing else we can do here,’ replied the watchmaker, lowering his eyes.

Roland stood quietly at the foot of the porch.

‘Will she be all right?’ asked Max, immediately realising that the question was stupid, given the circumstances.

‘We don’t know,’ Maximilian Carver muttered. He tried to smile at them before going back into the house. ‘I’ll see if your mother needs anything.’

The three friends stood there, glued to the spot. At first no one said a word but then Roland spoke up.