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Authors: Karl Beer

Crik (45 page)

BOOK: Crik
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‘Exposure to the sun burnt his hands and face. The great fireball in the sky imprisoned him to dark rooms and blacker caves. Alienated during the day and shunned by his people, the man took the company of the birds. In time, he grew to hate those who enjoyed what had denied him his freedom. I have speculated that he loved someone, no doubt a fair girl with sun in her hair and fire in her eyes. Another thing he could never possess. Deprive someone of what they desire the most and it will blacken their soul.’

‘Couldn’t you reason with him,’ asked Jack. ‘If you befriended him, he may have given up his mad quest.’

Cold emotion washed over Knell’s unsympathetic face. Were others right to name her a witch? She grew still. ‘I would sooner befriend a marsh rat,’ she said. ‘I told you, his soul had turned wicked. You cannot reason with such as him.’

‘What did he do when you refused him?’ asked Inara.

‘You know that already,’ said Knell. ‘He sent the birds. At first, he only sent a few extra blackbirds to decrease the worm population in my garden. Soon, entire flocks of the foul creatures arrived to torment me. They attacked me when I tried to leave my home. The disgusting things would cluster around my face, pecking me with their yellow beaks. It soon became impossible for me to leave these rooms. Some of those living in the town attempted to kill the birds. In retaliation for trying to help me, the Birdman called down more birds and turned them against the mayor and his flock. That’s when they abandoned their homes.’

‘They didn’t try to take you with them?’ asked Bill, pushing his glasses up his nose.

‘They knew the Birdman had cursed me,’ said Knell. ‘They forsook me and the child to fend for ourselves. At first people still came with their questions, braving the birds. My fee remained the same for every answer.’

‘Kill the blackbirds,’ said Inara.

‘We saw the well,’ added Bill.

‘It didn’t matter how many they killed,’ continued Knell, ‘more birds always arrived. Each night the Birdman would wrap on my door, asking his question, and each night I kept the door barred. This kept up for weeks, then months, until he suddenly stopped knocking my door.’

‘You didn’t hear him again?’ asked Jack.

‘I heard him knocking one night,’ said Knell. ‘Only he didn’t come to my door. Peering outside, I saw him at the old Pearson place, boarding up the windows and door. All night he worked with his hammer and nails, until he had enclosed the house.’

The neighbouring house without windows, Jack realised.

‘The following night he returned to block my windows.’ Knell pointed to her wall. For the first time the children noted boards of pale wood adorning the wall where the window should be. ‘He repeated his question in time with his hammer. To keep the baby from crying I played the Syll.’ Knell withdrew the same fluted instrument Llast had given Jack when they were about to enter the Blackthorn Tunnel.

‘We had one of those,’ said Bill, leaping from his chair.

‘It lulls things to sleep,’ said Knell. ‘A very useful instrument to have.’

‘I remember you playing it when I came here before,’ said Jack.

Knell nodded, shifting her hood so that it tipped forward into Yang. Yang remained close as she said, ‘Without windows the Birdman sought to deprive me of the sun.’

‘How’d you lose your door?’ asked Inara, looking back to the gaping hole at the front of the house.

‘He did that too,’ said Knell. ‘The night he came for the baby. I always stayed awake during the night and slept during the day. Only without windows to see, I lost track of the time. My clock,’ she pointed to the large clock still clustered with spiders, ‘hasn’t worked in years. This one night I fell asleep. When I failed to rouse at his knock at my door, he wrenched it off its hinge, creating that gaping hole. In swept the birds, attacking me with their flapping wings and pecking beaks. Although the child screamed for me, I could not fight off the birds. Helpless, I listened to her cries as the Birdman took her from me. He left with her, taking his birds with him.’

‘That’s horrible,’ said Inara, covering her mouth with her hands.

‘That is what happened,’ said Knell. ‘Now boy, you came here to ask me a question.’

Jack’s heart beat faster as Knell turned her blindfold to him. He knew she would ask him to kill the birds. Even with Black helping, he would never kill them all.

‘Ask away boy,’ said Knell. ‘You’ve travelled far enough to ask me the question.’

Yang remained by Knell, only now the shadow observed Jack. With his dark twin watching, Jack felt his mouth tighten. His lips were as hard as bone as he uttered the words, ‘How do I kill Yang?’

48. THE PRICE

 

‘Yin,’cried Bil
l
rushing forward to face Jack. ‘What’re you saying? Stop this now. You don’t want to kill Yang.’

‘What else can I do?’ said Jack. What else could he do? Having wrestled with the question since learning the truth, he saw no other course open to him. A malicious cat-eyed creature, with its evil look and forked tongue, could only have evil intentions. Why else did it choose to hide away? To free himself from his curse demanded swift, and terrible, action. Both his friends called them Narmacil, yet neither had seen the demon hatch in his room. ‘You witnessed the demons with your own eyes under the waterfall; how it possessed the little girl.’

‘Did you miss the joy and relief exhibited by Jess’s parents after their daughter had found a useful Talent? A gift that would make her life, and the lives of those she travelled with, easier,’ said Inara.

‘She killed that doll,’ said Jack.

‘It was a doll,’ said Bill. ‘It wasn’t alive.’

‘Then why did it run from Jess?’ retorted Jack. ‘You didn’t trust the demon when it travelled with us.’

‘This is Yang,’ said Bill. ‘Not some random creature we picked up at a waterfall. Yang has helped us every step of the way. He is part of you. Do you realise how jealous of you I am. Both of us have no brothers or sisters, but in Yang you had the company I have always craved.’

‘You can have him,’ said Jack. ‘He’s nothing but trouble.’

‘There’s a price for asking me your heart’s desire,’ said Knell, breaking into the conversation. She peered through the erect shadow separating them.

Did his shadow look sad? Without features, it was hard to tell what emotion his shadow portrayed, yet Jack knew his words must be like daggers. No, he must be strong. ‘I’ll kill as many of the birds as you want,’ he said.

The woman cackled. ‘If only it were so easy. I have had others kill the birds for me, only for the feathered fiends to double in number the following day.’

Apprehension coloured Jack’s words when he asked, ‘If you don’t want me to kill the birds, what do you want?’

Knell eased herself back into her chair. ‘There is a way to split you from your Narmacil. Although I can tell you how, your question has many prices, not the least of which is your shadow’s death. I require you to bring back the child from the Birdman.’ She spoke quickly, with only a slight shake of her hood betraying her need. ‘He lives in that house.’ She indicated the boarded up building. ‘Inside those walls he cowers from the sun. Retrieve her and you will have your answer.’

‘How do you expect us to enter that house?’ asked Jack.

‘Us?’ said Knell. ‘You seek the answer, no other. Your friends cannot help you.’

How could he go up against the Birdman without any help? In that moment he realised how much he relied on Bill and Inara. Without Bill, he could not call on Black. Feeling desperate, he said, ‘They’ve come all this way with me. We travelled through the Red Wood to find you.’

‘Neither wanted to come here,’ said Knell. ‘Though in coming, the girl has grown hopeful of a resolution to her own problem.’ Knell waved her hand when Inara opened her mouth to speak. ‘It is not your time girl; the boy has my attention.’

‘I won’t let Yin go into that house alone,’ said Bill, leaping from his chair. ‘With Black at our side we won’t have to worry about the birds.’

‘Mistrust has wormed its way into your heart,’ said Knell, regarding Bill with a hard-set jaw. ‘Since observing the Wood Giant and the Narmacil by the waterfall you have grown wary of them. The appearance chosen by the Narmacils alarmed and disgusted you. Nevertheless, you do not regard them as demons, as this one does,’ she indicated Jack with a hooked finger. ‘This is Jack’s task; only he can find his answer.’

‘What if I need help to retrieve your daughter?’ said Jack. ‘Denying me the help of my friends puts her life in as much danger as mine.’

‘She isn’t my daughter,’ said Knell. ‘I care for her as though she was of my blood, but that doesn’t change that she didn’t come from me.’

Feeling bereft, Jack turned to Yang.

‘Don’t expect your shadow to help you,’ said Knell, cackling. ‘After all, your success would seal his fate.’

Yang’s shape grew denser, hiding Knell behind his form. If contending with the Birdman and his flock was not enough, Jack also had to keep one eye on his demon.

‘You will find no door to his house,’ said Knell. ‘The Birdman is paranoid of allowing light into his hideaway. Having sealed the door, you will find no trace of it.’

‘Then how do you expect me to enter?’

‘There’s a tunnel leading from his house to my garden.’

‘The hole in the garden,’ said Jack. He had presumed the crater surrounded by red brick and clay was the same as the Narmacil nest back in the woods.

‘Take this to find your way through the darkness,’ said Knell, unhooking a small silver lantern from her rope belt. The precious metal grew in tangled vines that ringed the handle Knell grasped. Within the casing sat a long purple candle. ‘Light this to find your way.’

Taking the lantern Jack’s finger brushed Knell’s hand. Shocked at her ice cold skin had him pull back his hand, taking the silver cage with him. ‘It has no weight,’ he said, hefting the casing holding the purple candle over his head.

‘Yet its importance weighs heavily,’ said Knell. ‘Do not lose it, or you will not be able to see.’ She passed over a collection of matches.

Once the matches were pocketed Jack noticed a fine looping script ringing the base of the casing in a language he didn’t recognise. Tilting it toward the light revealed a second finer line written in an additional unknown language.

‘I don’t have to tell you how dangerous this is,’ said Inara. ‘Every time I try to talk you out of this foolishness, you stubbornly refuse to listen to my advice. Nothing we say or do will alter your mind.’ She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. ‘Keep that lantern safe, it may save you.’

‘Yeah Yin, don’t go doing anything dumb, like dying,’ said Bill. ‘I don’t want to be the one to tell your mother.’

With his back turned from his friends, Jack said, in a weak voice, ‘Don’t call me Yin, it is not my name.’

‘You don’t have to do this,’ said Inara. ‘You’ve lived all your life with Yang.’

‘Not all my life,’ said Jack. ‘I wasn’t born with him. He crept into my room and jumped inside me, just as Bill’s and Jess’s demon did with them.’

‘I hope Jack sees differently when the time comes Yang,’ said Inara. She held her hand out to Yang. Jack’s shadow enclosed her hand in shade. ‘If not for you we would never have escaped Krimble. During our travels you have become a true friend, someone I could always rely on to do the right thing.’ She let go, praying it was not the last time she would see Jack’s independent shadow.

Anger rose like steam in Jack. He had come all this way to free himself from his demon. Housing the demons had decayed Krimble’s mind, they had all seen this, and yet they persisted in tormenting him by loving his shadow. ‘My task won’t become easier by standing here,’ he said.

‘Wait,’ said Bill. ‘Without my Talent the others in the village looked down on me and called me a freak.’

‘I never did,’ replied Jack.

He strode from the room, allowing Bill and Inara to say goodbye to Yang. Let them, after today he would be free of his demon. Halting, he focused on the floor where his shadow should be in relation to the light. When had his shadow started disobeying that rule? Although he couldn’t remember being without Yang, how far back could he actually remember? His earliest memory was looking through the bars of his cot to where his mother cleaned the upstairs passage. Had Yang possessed him while he slept in that crib? ‘When I bring back the child, you’ll free me from my demon,’ he said to Knell.

‘Bring her back to me and you will have your heart’s desire,’ replied Knell.

Black’s whine accompanied Jack as he spied the blackbirds through the net. His friends watched him, waiting to see if he had the courage to lift the net and leave the safety of the house. Did they doubt his resolve? His fingers brushed the billowing rope. If he lifted the net, the birds would come and there would be no turning back. Bill stood in the doorway of the room, his face drawn and pale. Jack wished they were back at Long Sleep, hiding amongst the gravestones, scaring each other with ghost stories. Well this wasn’t a story. Squeezing the rope’s coarse fibres burnt his fingers, yet he tightened his grip.

‘Are you still my friend?’ asked Jack with hesitation.

‘Always,’ replied Bill.

‘Even without Yang?’

Bill didn’t have time to answer. With a flick of his hand, Jack untied the rope tethering the net to the pedestal and threw aside the net. Silent and fast, the birds came. Stepping through, he turned his back to the blackbirds flocking around him. Hunching his shoulders, he refastened the rope, anchoring the net in place. Once the house was secure, he braved the beating wings around him. Let them peck, he thought as a jabbing beak drew blood. Ignoring their screeching and flapping wings, he trudged forward, he had a task to do and nothing would stop him. Clutching the lantern against his stomach, he pushed through the shifting feathered wall. A bird struck his ear, causing him to cry out. Disgust welled up inside when he trod on another; the little body popped under his heel. ‘That’s one for you to stuff,’ he said to his shadow in tow.

The ground became uneven with loose bricks and tossed up earth. Taking heart from his proximity to the tunnel renewed his efforts. One hole-riddled shoe caught the edge of a brick sticking up from the mud, sending him sprawling to the ground. Birds swarmed over him, tearing into his back with yellow beaks and raking his exposed skin with talons that felt like wire. Wailing his derision at the combined weight squirming over his back, he attempted to dislodge the birds. Beneath him, the soft mud crumbled, defeating his efforts; exhausted, he collapsed against the ground. Viciously the flock continued their assault. ‘I’m so close,’ he cried into the cold peat. ‘It’s not fair.’ Strength ebbed from him. A beak scoring his cheek raised no cry; he had given into his fate. Suddenly, the pressure on his back eased. Grown numb to the pain it took him a moment to realise that he could move. Curling his fingers he scrunched the mud into his palm, and with it, a wave of pain assaulted him. In the time it took him to take an inward breath, he fooled himself into believing Inara had used her Talent on him. Twisting, he screamed, he didn’t want to rise from the mud like the stag. Looking up he saw Yang had formed a protective bubble, shielding him from the birds.

‘Why are you helping?’ cried Jack. ‘Stop it. Don’t you know I mean to kill you?’

He waved his hand up and through Yang, where a bird struck his finger. With a cry, he brought his hand back within the shadow where it was safe. Blood and earth mingled to coat his skin and torn clothing. The tunnel entrance lay only a few yards away; its black hole gave the impression of an open mouth, just waiting for someone foolish enough to enter. Scrambling to his knees, and with the lantern held tight, he stumbled for the opening, letting it devour him.

The sounds of the birds evaporated as he entered the tunnel. Pitch-blackness enveloped him. Scared the birds would follow him, he moved deeper into the tunnel. Feeling safer, he leaned against the rough earthen wall, listening to his ragged breath echo down the shaft. Why did Yang help him? ‘Because if I die, he dies,’ he said. Yes, that was it. As always, his shadow looked out for itself.

Striking a match against the dry stone, jutting from the mud, brought Yang blooming into life.

‘You’re always there. Aren’t you,’ said Jack. ‘I can’t see you in the dark, but you’re always with me.’

Jack lit the lantern as the match burned down to his thumb. The candlelight that escaped through the silver cage threw out a strange purple haze, almost as though the light was a mist. It illuminated the tunnel. Intruding upon the curved walls, he spotted dangling hair-like roots from small plants and thick tree roots. Mole holes dotted the wall, and here and there, the lantern light reflected off the glistening bodies of worms and a few underground insects, that no doubt could tell Mr Gasthem a story or two. Not following a straight course, a few feet ahead the passage turned to the right.

‘There can’t be that much distance between Knell’s house and the Birdman’s hideout,’ he said.

‘That depends on how many twists and turns this tunnel takes.’

BOOK: Crik
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