That was the thing about a bargeist, the more frightened you became, the more you saw of it and, in turn … the more you got frightened.
This was not going to be like sparring with his dad. Somewhere in the partly visible creature was a wolfish dog, with the bulk of a crocodile. Add jet-black fur as hard as nails and teeth as sharp as razors, sprinkle in a demon’s evil heart, and what you had was a bargeist.
Wasn’t this what Ned had wanted? A fight without rules? No manual to hand, no overprotective parents.
Yes and no.
His freedom had lost its lustre, along with his mum and dad.
From somewhere within him something flared, a spark of anger, a snap of rage. Ned didn’t care how frightening a creature the bargeist was. It had done something to his parents and it would pay. He only had to think it, and his ring crackled like electric fire – carpet and plasterboard came tearing from the walls and floor. A great angry mess of swirling debris formed beside him, and quickly he turned their atoms to hardened stone, using nothing more than raw willpower and a good dose of malice.
“What have you done with them?” he yelled, his hand raised in a threat and his weapons ready to let fly.
But even as he blustered, more of the creature showed itself. No matter how loudly you beat your chest, you can never lie to a bargeist. Ned saw it lowering its head and its great jaws widening to something of a … grin.
“Hra, hra, hra,” came a sound like wet gravel.
“Tell me that isn’t a laugh?”
It paced forward suddenly and Ned “told” his barrage to fly, but he’d been too eager, pushed them with too much force and the projectiles missed their mark, splintering the far wall with a violent crash. Even now, with the creature pushing towards him, he could hear his dad telling him to focus.
Ned backed down the stairs, the bargeist following but its pace slowing. Why wasn’t it attacking?
“Think!” breathed Ned.
There was a horrible scraping of iron-hard hair along the wall as the bargeist turned down the stairwell.
“Nice doggy,” whimpered Ned.
And the “doggy” gave him another canine grin, though there was nothing nice about it. Without even trying, Ned’s mind flicked to the memorised pages of the Engineer’s Manual. The very same pages he’d asked to abandon only the night before.
“Page one hundred and thirty-seven, ‘C-containment’,” he stammered.
But before he could focus, two things happened and in no particular order.
First, a now completely visible bargeist sat down at the top of the stairs.
And second, Ned’s friends burst in through the front door and slammed it shut behind them.
“N-N-Ned,” started Archie. Ned’s position was now officially unmanageable. Gummy looked as though he was about to go into cardiac arrest, and though they couldn’t see it, there was a slack-jawed killing machine at the top of Ned’s stairs – which for some reason had decided to take a break.
“What are you two doing here?!” Ned squealed.
“Cycled over as quick as we could. Y-you were being so weird – we were worried about you, and your mouse, Ned! Its eyes lit up like bulbs!” managed Archie between gulps of air.
His two friends may well have had his best interests at heart, but they’d now seriously endangered themselves – and no doubt Ned too.
“What? GET OUT OF HERE!”
But Archie had not finished.
“There’s something else, Ned – the nit inspector, he’s coming down the street.”
“Hra, hra, hra,” came the gravelly laugh of the bargeist.
“So that’s your game!” Ned sneered back. The hound wasn’t there to hurt him – he was just delaying things till his master returned.
Gummy had finally come to his senses and was beginning to breathe normally again. “What was that sound, and why are you talking to the stairs?”
“It’s nothing and you two have to go.”
But before Gummy could answer, they were cut off by a knock on the door.
“Hello? Hello – Ned? Do open up, will you, I would so like to meet you,” came an oily voice through the letterbox. “I know you’re in there – I can smell you.”
“Barking dogs – that’s him!” cried Archie. “First you go all Gandalf on us and now this!”
Barking dogs indeed, thought Ned, as the bargeist started pacing down the stairs. And with every step the creature continued to grow. Ned had to make a break for it, but how? If he ran, on his own, the nit inspector might hurt his friends. Or he could allow himself to be captured … No, that wasn’t an option. If his parents had been taken, he needed to be free, so he could try to get them back.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” he whispered to his friends, eyes flitting between door and stairs.
“We had to. You left your bag and you never go anywhere without it. Besides, if we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have seen the inspector. Is he what all this is about? Are you OK, Ned? Where are your mum and dad?”
But Ned wasn’t listening.
“My bag? Please tell me you’ve got it!”
“There’s hardly anything in it,” said Archie, pulling Ned’s small messenger bag from his shoulder and handing it to his friend.
“Archie Hinks – I could kiss you!”
“Just you try it! See, Gummy – he’s not himself, it’s the magic talking.”
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! went the door.
“Ne-eeeed,” cooed the inspector. “Come on, we both know I’ll find a way in, Ned, I always find a way in. Besides – in a minute or two you and your little friends will most certainly want a way out.”
To push home his point, the bargeist bared its teeth.
“Er … Ned?” said Archie. “What’s going on?”
“What have you done with them?!” shouted Ned, ignoring his friend.
“Mummy and Daddy? Oh, don’t worry, they’re back in my little hidey-hole. They’re a tricky pair, aren’t they, put up quite a fight once they came round. But I knew my little pet would keep you busy till I returned.”
And there it was: they’d put up a fight but they were alive. If the nit inspector had wanted them dead, there’d be no point in kidnap. Ned was brought back to the moment by some rattling in the lock of the door. The inspector was trying to break in and his bargeist