Grim Hill: The Forgotten Secret (Grim Hill Series) Read online

  Table of Contents

  reviews

  Title

  Rights

  Dedication

  CHAPTER 1 - A Wistful Wish

  CHAPTER 2 - What an Easterly Wind Blows In …

  CHAPTER 3 - A Dark Deal

  CHAPTER 4 - A Diabolical Match

  CHAPTER 5 - Shadows from the Past

  CHAPTER 6 - A Garden of Secrets

  CHAPTER 7 - A Mysterious Discovery

  CHAPTER 8 - Lost Love

  CHAPTER 9 - Love’s Dangerous Charm

  CHAPTER 10 - Digging up Trouble

  CHAPTER 11 - A Deadly Mix

  CHAPTER 12 - A Storm Brews

  CHAPTER 13 - Spells by Moonlight

  CHAPTER 14 - A Dark Obsession

  CHAPTER 15 - A Grim Parade

  CHAPTER 16 - A Terrible Twist

  CHAPTER 17 - The Mask Slips

  CHAPTER 18 - A Dark Hunger Awakens …

  CHAPTER 19 - A Dark Visit

  CHAPTER 20 - Inside the Secret Garden

  CHAPTER 21 - The Heart’s Deadly Beat

  CHAPTER 22 - Dance of the Dead

  CHAPTER 23 - A Deadly Sweetheart

  CHAPTER 24 - A Grim Determination

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

  Discover the entire Award Winning Series

  Praise for the “Grim Hill” series:

  “Solid tween appeal …” – The Globe and Mail

  “… a pre-Steven King novel for tween readers.”

  – BellaOnline.com

  “… a storyline that fantasy addicts will devour.”

  – Montreal Review of Books

  “[An] appealing mix of realism, whimsy, and legend.”

  – Booklist

  “… bubbles along at a magical pace … creepy enough to cast a spell over anyone who reads it!”

  – Resource Links

  “DeMeulemeester has scored big …” – Vancouver Sun

  “Cat is an engaging heroine, and Grimoire has just the right amount of evil …”

  – January Magazine

  “… an entertaining and worthwhile read.” – Kirkus Reviews

  “We simply want to devour more of this author’s highly readable and intriguing prose that she has a knack for creating … Next installment, please!”

  – CM: Canadian Review of Materials

  Visit the official “Grim Hill” series website:

  www.grimhill.com

  Grim Hill

  The Forgotten Secret

  written by Linda DeMeulemeester

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of Grim Hill Press™.

  www.grimhill.com

  Grim Hill: The Forgotten Secret Text © 2009 Linda DeMeulemeester

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of Linda DeMeulemeester

  First published in 2011 by Lobster Press™

  Reissued 2013 by Grim Hill Press

  Editor: Meghan Nolan Editorial Assistants: Susanna Rothschild & Erin Simnitt Cover Illustration: John Shroades Graphic Design & Production: Tammy Desnoyers

  Facebook is a trademark of Facebook, Inc. Google is a trademark of Google, Inc.

  For my own younger brothers and sisters:

  Ron, Lezlee, Randy, and Louise

  Acknowledgements:

  Thank you to Meghan Nolan for her insightful editing and to John

  Shroades for the wonderful cover – again you’ve helped me pull

  together another Grim Hill. And thank you to the staff at Lobster

  Press for working so hard to get Grim Hill out. Much appreciation

  to John, Alec, and Joey for their continued support, and to my two

  nieces, Amanda and Emily, for their fashion advice.

  – Linda DeMeulemeester

  CHAPTER 1 - A Wistful Wish

  “YOU’RE NOT PLAYING as a team,” Mr. Morrows said as he glared at us. “Ever since we joined the boys and girls together as a co-ed soccer team, you’ve been playing against each other instead of with each other.”

  “That’s because the guys hog the ball,” I said in a huff.

  Mia joined in. “Cat’s right. I’m the forward and nobody kicks the ball to me.”

  “Then you’d better move faster,” said Mitch as he snatched the soccer ball from Mia’s hand and spun it on his fingertips.

  “You’re the team captain,” I said to Clive, hiding the longing in my voice. After all, the position of captain was supposed to have been mine. “Do something about them.” I pointed to Mitch, who rolled the soccer ball across the polished gym floor to Zach, who then kicked the ball up and caught it in his hands.

  “It’s survival of the fittest,” Clive, my archrival, said as he flashed an annoying grin.

  Didn’t those guys learn anything about how important it is to pull together? I thought we’d discovered at Christmas how to be a team. We’d come together to save the town from Fairy and the evil creatures buried deep beneath Grim Hill. But now everyone else had forgotten about that. The boys still thought they were the only ones going to the intramurals and that the girls were nothing but irritating tag-alongs.

  Echoing my thoughts, Emily shook her head saying, “Some co-ed team this is – it’s still them against us.”

  “My point exactly,” said Mr. Morrows. “So your coach Ms. Dreeble and I have come to a conclusion.”

  Ms. Dreeble adjusted the elastic in her blond ponytail and a serious expression crossed her face. My heart sped up as a worry erupted inside me. What if they pull us from the intramurals? What if they disband the team and there’s no soccer? Any soccer – even soccer with guys who are ball hogs – is better than no soccer at all.

  “Ballroom dancing is the answer,” announced Ms. Dreeble as she moved to Mr. Morrows’s side. “I’ve done some research, and schools are discovering how enrolling students in dance classes helps young people build team unity and cooperation.”

  “Of course Darkmont High does not have the budget for expensive dance studio lessons,” explained Mr. Morrows. “So instead of soccer, you are all to show up at the usual practice time, and Ms. Dreeble and I will teach you ballroom dancing steps instead.”

  “You’ll learn the waltz and the fox-trot – maybe even the rumba if there’s time.” Ms. Dreeble tapped her foot on the floor in four-four time as if she couldn’t wait to begin.

  My mouth dropped open. Absolute silence hung over all of us in a shroud of gloom until the soccer ball dropped and rolled clickity-clack across the gym.

  No soccer practice? Ballroom dancing?

  “But that’s a terrible idea,” I finally burst out, scowling. How was shuffling around the gym holding some guy’s sweaty hand supposed to improve our team cooperation? You can’t get better at soccer if you don’t practice it.

  Sometimes you can see straight through to the point of things. Sometimes you can’t. I couldn’t see the point of dance classes – and it wasn’t just me.

  Grumbling echoed around the gym as we all turned toward each other. “How will we be ready in time for the competition?” Clive asked bitterly as if he’d just been hit with a soccer penalty. As he leveled me with an angry glare, he added, “It’s the girls’ fault – they ignore us.”

  “You mean we don’t listen to you,” I snapped. “It’s you guys who ignore us.”

  “Why do you think you are all so special?” Amarjeet shot back at the gu
ys.

  “Enough. This is exactly what I mean.” Ms. Dreeble’s sharp teacher-voice rose above our complaints. “Let me put it this way – we’ll have to pull the team out of the competition unless we can get you to play more cooperatively. So it’s your choice – take dance lessons or withdraw from the intramurals.”

  Okay, I could see that point, but everyone was still complaining as dark thundercloud expressions shadowed our teachers’ faces. Experience with angry teachers made me figure we were about ten seconds away from having our team withdrawn from the competition. I had to think of something – fast!

  I put up my hand.

  “Yes, Cat?” Impatience crept into Ms. Dreeble’s voice. She thought of me as a bit of a troublemaker and as someone who was not exactly reliable. True, I hadn’t shown up for an important soccer game – but in my mind, I had a good excuse. I had been trying to save the town from the perils of Grim Hill.

  “What about …” I said in a loud voice. Everyone got quiet and turned expectantly to me. Ms. Dreeble crossed her arms in a foreboding way, and I could almost smell a detention on the horizon. She looked as if she was in no mood for bargaining. Think, Cat, think …

  “What about … a … Valentine’s dance?”

  Complaints turned into murmurs. Hey, maybe I was onto something. Getting into it, I said, “At my old school we had dances all the time. They were really fun.” Sure we didn’t really dance holding hands with each other. It was more like we all leaped around on the dance floor, spinning like little steel balls bouncing off each other in a pachinko game, but still … “We have almost three weeks until Valentine’s, so we could work hard at our dance lessons and then throw Darkmont’s first school dance.”

  Everyone started saying, “A dance would be cool.”

  “I’d go to a dance.”

  “Definitely.”

  Okay, maybe it was mostly the girls saying this …

  “You’re not the ones calling the shots here, Cat,” warned Mr. Morrows.

  “Although, it might be helpful for you to have a firm goal to work toward,” Ms. Dreeble said tentatively.

  Was that a glimmer of hope?

  “I’m not sure we have money in the budget,” Mr. Morrows said as his mustache twitched. Fun was never part of Darkmont’s budget. My hope began to sink.

  “We have some money left over from the talent show at Christmas,” Ms. Dreeble mused. “But there’s not much time.”

  “I’ll help plan,” I promised, deciding to jump in before Ms. Dreeble backed out.

  “Me too,” said Emily, the most popular girl in our grade and also a straight-A student. Even though I too had been considered a good student at my old school, I tried not to let it get to me when Ms. Dreeble only nodded after Emily came on board.

  “Okay, we’ll have a couple of weeks of dance lessons to build team unity, and you can also sharpen up your cooperation skills by pulling together and planning the Valentine’s dance.” Ms Dreeble announced this as Mr. Morrows gave her an odd “I wasn’t exactly going to agree” look.

  It was then I noticed a lot of the guys didn’t appear as enthusiastic as the girls. As a matter of fact, they didn’t seem interested at all. When our teachers left the gym all the girls gathered into groups and talked excitedly, but the guys still mumbled about soccer being postponed.

  “Good one, Cat,” complained Clive. “You got us locked up into that one fast.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said as sweetly as possible, hoping that would get under his skin. As I walked away, a group of girls signaled me to join them. It was Emily and Amanda and a few of the most popular girls at Darkmont. And they wanted to speak to me. Cool.

  “We’re starting a planning committee right away,” Emily said enthusiastically. “We’d like you to join. Great idea you had.” Emily shook her blond hair that shone like starlight, even under the dim fluorescent lights. “My mom bought me the most awesome dress for Christmas, and I’ll finally have some place in this dingy town to wear it.”

  “Ooh, I hope my mom will get me a new dress,” said Amanda. “There’s a new designer shop right next to the Emporium. I went in and browsed around over the weekend.”

  With a distracted smile Emily said, “Maybe once Zach sees me in my dress …” as she looked over her shoulder watching Clive retreat. It was as if she wouldn’t have minded another boy asking her the dance, but everyone assumed the two most popular kids would be a couple. It surprised me to think that just as I felt locked out of getting Zach to ever notice me, maybe Emily felt locked in to going with him because people expected it. “… anyhow, Zach will be happy to take me to the dance.” But she didn’t sound all that sure of herself.

  “Guess I should check out the new store,” I said, although I doubted there was money for a new dress in our family budget.

  “You’ll love those outfits,” Amanda said enthusiastically. “Any girl who wears one will be the center of attention at the dance.”

  She was talking to me like I was part of their crowd. I couldn’t believe the popular girls wanted me to join the committee! Okay, maybe the dance was my idea, but still, I’d never been invited to anything by them before. And except for the soccer team we’d begun, Darkmont wasn’t exactly loaded with social activities. I’d love to be on the dance committee. This could be my chance to make my life more like it was at my old school, where there were dances and loads of kids to have fun with. Also, it would be great for our soccer team if we all hung out together.

  I got that tingling excited feeling from anticipating a great time, so I practically floated out of the school and went straight to the dress shop by the Emporium, even though it was pouring rain outside. An easterly wind had blown in storm clouds, and thunder rumbled in the distance. The rain plastered my hair to my skull, and the chill made my teeth chatter. I didn’t care about that as I stood outside Esmeralda’s Vintage Designs, because I was mesmerized by the dresses in the window. Inside hung dresses I’d only ever seen in magazines – dresses with ballerina-style skirts and netting that my kid sister would go crazy for, plus silk dresses with lace-up corsets and satin dresses with flouncing skirts, all in frothy sherbet colors of pale lime, strawberry, and blackberry.

  Don’t get me wrong – I’m no fashionista or anything. I’m more at home in soccer cleats and a tracksuit. It was just that in my old town, even before I’d turned thirteen, I always needed a dress – I’d get invited to all the dances and parties. And my parents had bought me a really nice outfit, although it would never fit now.

  I wanted my old life back. Maybe it couldn’t be with my dad or my old friends, or my nice house where Mom didn’t always have to try to make ends meet. That didn’t mean I couldn’t have a more fun life here, except … I shook my head and drops of rain flung about, sending extra chills down my face and neck. My hopefulness began washing away in the rain as the grey day seeped inside me. At Christmas, when life really started going my way and I’d made team captain, it all got wrecked because of fairy trouble on Grim Hill.

  I stared at those dresses thinking they seemed right out of a fairy tale – the kind of fairy tale that began “Once upon a time” or “A long time ago.” The last thing you want is a real fairy story beginning right here and right now. Trust me on this. Constant danger lurks when you live below a fairy hill. That’s another thing – real fairy tales don’t wind up happily ever after. You don’t meet a prince or find a pot of gold; your troubles don’t vanish – not by a long shot. Fairies were pure menace and fairy encounters were perilous!

  To make it worse, only our friends the elderly Greystone sisters, my sister Sookie, and our friend Jasper understood that a dark evil lurked inside Grim Hill. Lucinda and Alice Greystone realized this because Lucinda and her soccer team had a run-in with those evil fairies seventy years ago. She had stayed locked up inside the hill until she was an old lady. Because we had feathers I’d taken from Fairy, Jasper, Sookie, and I remembered how twice a terrifying bewitchment fell over our town. The feathers
helped us recall what had happened even though no adults or the rest of our soccer team ever remembered. But the feathers weren’t entirely reliable – they didn’t seem to keep my little sister away from magic, even though she remembered the trouble she’d caused. And that was one other worry that hovered over me.

  I didn’t want to worry anymore. I wanted to be the girl at the Valentine’s dance in the cool dress with lots of friends and all of us having an awesome time. Was that so much to ask?

  This time was going to be different!

  I tugged on the door of the dress shop.

  Maybe I could have a happily ever after at last. Finally we’d locked those wicked fairies inside Grim Hill for good.

  Hadn’t we?

  CHAPTER 2 - What an Easterly Wind Blows In …

  THE BELL CHIMED on the door as I entered Esmeralda’s shop. A woman bustled in my direction, offering me a towel and taking my jacket so I didn’t drip water on any of the fancy tapestry rugs covering the dark wood floor. She wore a suit and her hair was a helmet of hairspray.

  “Please, come in and look around,” she said, eyeing my muddy shoes with a slight frown. I wiped them again on the bristle mat.

  The walls in the shop were covered with delicate rose paper, and the air even smelled like rose petals. This was the fanciest store I’d ever seen – nothing like Mr. Keating’s hodgepodge of an Emporium. I moved around uncomfortably, worried I’d knock over a china vase or tip a silk lampshade. Somehow I didn’t think a dress from here would be exactly affordable. Maybe there was a sale rack.

  Then I spotted it. My dream dress.

  The shade of the dress wasn’t little-girl pink or cotton-candy pink; it was an amazing metallic pink that shimmered in the light. It had grown-up spaghetti straps and a tulip skirt that billowed and dropped above the knees. And it was my size. I walked over and touched it.