Crik (49 page)

Laughing, Yang said, ‘Best blow out the candle, I have taken enough blows for one day.’ Leaning forward Yang blew, dousing the candle.

The baby Narmacil, clinging to Jack, playfully tugged his hair. ‘Alright, you’re almost home.’ He laughed.

The familiar red brick took the place of the soft earthen tunnel floor and led him once more into the sun. The sun on his face felt good. Yang rushed ahead, growing in size as daylight returned to their world. Fearing the birds still waited for him, Jack held the baby close as he clawed his way up from the hole. Spying a few stragglers perched on the swing, and another group of blackbirds in the garden, froze him to the spot. When they ignored his arrival, he cautiously proceeded toward the house.

A deathly hush had fallen over the scene as though he was about to find something horrible. Limping through the garden, he kept expecting to see his friends. Where were they? Surely they kept watch for him from within the safety of the net. Fearing the worst, he jogged past the watching birds, with their predatory gaze.

Blackbirds wheeled
i
n
the sky above Jack. The Birdman’s death had taken the fight out of them, but what had the birds done during Jack’s absence. He told himself repeatedly that his friends were safe, he just wished he believed himself. His confrontation with the deranged man could not have resulted in putting his friends in further danger. Dead birds piled up against the house like dirty snow, paying proof of his delusion. Blood glued feathers to the stone. Hesitating, he noticed clumps of black fur amongst the carnage. Although he knew the hair belonged to Black, he didn’t know how much of the blood belonged to the wolf.

‘Bill. Bill can you hear me? Answer me damnit!’

The trail of dead birds led into the house. The amount of feathers covering the passage made it difficult to tell how many bodies littered the floor; he estimated hundreds of blackbirds had passed the net. Frail bird bones crunched under his heel like crackling. Where were his friends? Frantic, he called out their names. Gripping his shoulder, the baby answered with a shrill cry. Entering the vacant room where he had left his friends amplified his terror. Clumps of bloodied dark hair clung to the armchair. Tasting the blood in the air curdled his stomach; he spat on the floor in distaste.

‘Inara!’

He ran back to the passageway. Heart hammering he stopped at the foot of the stairs. Resting one foot on the first step, he prepared to climb, when he noticed a heap of bodies covering a small downstairs door. Threaded amongst the half-chewed birds, like ribbons on wrapped presents, were old bandages, spotted with old blood. Recognising the strips of cloth as belonging to Inara, he leapt down the corridor.

Yang scooped away the dead birds, while he kicked them from the door. Once clear he tried the handle, the door rattled against its jam. Studying the wood, he found no sign of an outside lock; the door had no keyhole. ‘Secured from the inside,’ he muttered. Allowing his hopes to rise he banged the door.

‘Hey it’s me, open up!’

He hit the door so hard he hurt his hand.

‘Yang, you could slip under the door and open it from the inside.’

Yang shook his head.

‘If you’re afraid of blowing the door off its hinges and hurting me, don’t, I’ll stand well back.’

Giving a quick nod, Yang shooed Jack and the baby back with a flap of his hand. Spreading himself flat against the floor, Yang slipped under the door. The wood creaked, then bulged outward, and finally exploded into the passage. Jack shielded the baby from the flying wood.

‘You weren’t kidding when you said you can’t control yourself in the dark.’

The broken entryway framed Yang, who beckoned him to follow. Dust filled the air as Jack took after his disappearing shadow down a flight of stairs. He almost tripped on a twisted deadbolt lying on the fifth step. Someone had pulled that lock shut. The baby Narmacil scurried over his shoulder to grip his back. It was like taking a plunge into a midnight lake as he descended the dark stairs.

‘I can’t see, is anyone down here? Bill, Inara, anyone, answer me.’

The floor echoed his steps when he hit it. Shuffling forward he tried to listen to anything beyond himself and the Narmacil clinging to him. When he heard a creak, he suspected someone had followed him down the stairs. Had the Birdman survived? Was he following him down here? A sliver of light appeared across the room as a second door opened. Yang materialised at his side as the door swept wider, spilling a warm glow into what must be Knell’s cellar.

‘Is that you Yin?’

‘Bill!’ cried Jack as his friend stuck out his head.

Both boys rushed across the cellar floor and flew into each other’s arms. Bill’s glasses fell off as he laughed. Yang caught the spectacles. Jack slapped his friend on the back.

‘Why didn’t you answer me when I called your name?’

Bill appeared sheepish. ‘Well, we’ve had a time of it since you left. Those birds attacked the house in one mad rush. It was like being inside a hurricane. In case a bad storm ever hit the village, Grandpa insisted on building a storm cellar. Knell had the same idea.’ He grinned. ‘When the birds broke through the net, Knell led us down here. We couldn’t hear what happened in the house.’

‘Jack,’ cried Inara. She clung to the injured wolf. Slick with blood and with hair missing on both sides Black never looked more fearsome. Overjoyed, Jack rushed to greet them.

‘Are you hurt? I saw your bandages on the floor.’

Inara flicked back her hair. ‘Nothing can hurt me while I’m with my protector.’ She smoothed the wolf’s head.

‘A few of the birds flapped around her legs, pecking at the bandages. Black beat them back, no problem, he killed hundreds of them.’ Bill said with pride.

‘People called me crazy for wanting to put the deadbolt on this side of the door; I knew what I was doing,’ said Knell joining them. Stray feathers clung to her robes. ‘The Birdman sent his filthy creatures into my home when he found you in his. They’d still be here now, pestering me, if you and Yang didn’t come to an understanding.’

‘Yang, I didn’t know if I would ever see you again,’ said Bill.

The shadow handed Bill his glasses, before enveloping the boy in a big hug. Yang then turned his attention to Inara, sweeping her off Black and holding her up in the air. She laughed, but for Jack, seeing her ghastly leg wounds uncovered for the first time, tempered the happy moment.

‘Hey, what’s that,’ cried Bill.

The baby Narmacil had circled around and clung to Jack’s back when he climbed down the stairs; only now, that Knell stood amongst them, did the baby feel confident in revealing herself. Her golden eyes shone.

‘Hello baby,’ said Knell. She reached forward and the Narmacil leapt from Jack to her waiting arms. ‘I missed you.’ Those few words held more emotion from the woman than any of the children had seen from her.

‘That’s your baby?’ asked Bill, gawping at the Narmacil.

‘I care for her as though she was,’ said Knell. ‘In that respect I am her mother.’

‘It’s a Narmacil.’

‘And you are as dull as a donkey suffering from sun stroke,’ said Inara.

‘Each Narmacil lives for hundreds of years,’ said Jack. Recalling all the faces Yang showed him he added, ‘Perhaps more than a thousand. How can you call the Narmacil a baby?’

‘You witnessed a Narmacil hatch from an egg, and then you all saw the Narmacils under the waterfall,’ replied Knell. ‘Do any of you notice anything different about this child?’ Her hands trembled as she lovingly held forward the Narmacil.

It shared all the same characteristics as the Narmacil Jack encountered in his bedroom. Yang’s information concerned the Narmacil’s inability to change its form, but Knell indicated another oddity.

‘Its golden eyes,’ said Inara, pointing. ‘Where’s the silver bolt. Every other Narmacil has that zigzag line.’

‘Well done,’ said Knell, offering a smile. ‘If more people used their own wits, they wouldn’t keep coming to my doorstep. The boy is correct; there are ancient Narmacil within Crik wood. Becoming an ancient is a long process, fraught with danger. An elder Narmacil, called a Dintraise, lives in Inara.’ They turned to Inara. ‘Never mind that,’ snapped the woman, returning their attention to her. ‘Every Narmacil is old, living far beyond our lifespan, always bestowing its Talent to the chosen.’ she regarded Jack sombrely. He could not lift his head for shame. ‘When you die, your Narmacil will rest. A Narmacil sleeps for ten years, and in that time they form a protective shell about themselves.’

‘Why?’ asked Jack.

‘While you live your bodies protect them,’ said Knell. ‘A Narmacil cannot survive long without that protection. It is for this reason that the Lindre granted the union between the Narmacil and us. We benefit each other. The Narmacil grants you a Talent, in return for your body’s defence.’

Remembering the figure in the storm that had started his adventure, Jack asked, ‘Where does the Giant come into this?’

‘Ysgor, a Woodland Giant, is a friend. He looks after the sleeping Narmacil, and when they awaken he takes them to the one they will join.’

‘I saw him in Mr Hasseltope’s tomb.’

‘The people of your village sealed the tomb ten years ago. Protected within the stone, the egg matured. Retrieval of the egg before maturity is hazardous, and only undertaken if the egg is in danger. When it was time for the Narmacil to awaken, Ysgor went to the tomb.’ Knell turned to Bill. ‘You carry that Narmacil. Mr Hasseltope also had the Talent to control animals.’

Jack remembered the body of the fox inside the grave. ‘So that’s what the Giant was doing with the Hatchlings at the waterfall. He was taking them to the children who waited to have their Talent.’

‘Like the gypsy girl, Jess,’ said Inara.

‘Ysgor works tirelessly. The other three Hatchlings have now granted their Talents to children who live within the wood.’

‘Wait a second,’ said Bill, shifting his glasses. ‘You say that we protect the Narmacil, that without our bodies they won’t survive.’

‘Then how come your child isn’t dying?’ asked Inara.

‘Narmacil become vulnerable at maturity,’ answered Knell. ‘Gaining the ability to transform stretches their skin, making it thin. At that juncture any exposure to the outside elements will eventually kill them.’

‘How old is she?’ asked Jack.

‘Five years,’ said Knell. ‘She has yet to find the gift that will grant her Talent to another. The Birdman hoped his need would influence the formation of her power.  A Narmacil is full of potential; he was not mistaken in that. When the day arrives, when she finds her gift, her eyes will appear like all the rest.’ Indicating the golden eyes, she said, ‘It is the power, such as your shadow, that bestows the silver line through the eyes. Once she has reached maturity, Ysgor will arrive to take her from me.’

‘I doubt there are many Narmacil this young,’ said Jack.

‘The next youngest Narmacil is five hundred years old,’ stated Knell.

Moving past the children; Knell began to climb the stairs. She carried the crying Narmacil in the crook of her arm. Taking a Syll from her rope belt, she began to play, colouring the cellar with the light that whispered through its many holes. The baby listened for a few moments, her eyes wide before they began to droop closed.

An outstretched hand stopped Jack from following the blindfolded woman. Turning he saw Bill holding his arm. ‘What’s going on?’

Bill waited for Knell to disappear. ‘Yang is still here.’

‘He is.’

‘You didn’t demand your answer from Knell,’ said Inara. ‘You rescued her child from the Birdman. She will have to tell you what you want to know.’ She balled her hands into tights fists. ‘Do you still want to kill the Narmacil inside of you?’

‘Knell said you two came to an understanding,’ said Bill. ‘You heard her say that didn’t you Inara? I heard it loud and clear.’

Wanting to smile, Jack looked up at Inara, suspended in the air by his shadow. Nothing would give him more pleasure than to hold her, and Bill too, to laugh and apologise for being a fool. ‘Knell gave me a light, so that I would be able to see clearly. Blindly I went into the tunnel, refusing to see what was in front of me. Stupidity almost cost me Yang, and my obsession put you both in danger. Everyday you told me what a friend I had in him, but I couldn’t see it. He was a monster I needed to destroy - only when faced with his destruction I realised his true nature. Yang is my brother; through him, my life is richer. Losing him is unthinkable, a horrendous crime. How we survived the Red Wood, is a miracle in itself. I have taken us far from home. Inara, you should now be back with your parents, not here with us. Bill, my oldest, closest friend, you only wanted to enter the wood to get your wolf.’ He laughed. ‘There’s no better wolf in Crik than Black. You will have the honour of bringing him into the village, to show everyone what a fabulous Talent you have. It was worth the wait. I owe you both a huge apology. To answer your question then, no I will not be asking Knell how I can destroy Yang. We will be together all my life and Yang will carry me with him to his next.’

Bill clapped his hands. ‘That’s great.’

‘Yes Jack, that’s wonderful news,’ said Inara, relaxing.

‘There is something else Knell may be able to help us with,’ said Jack, looking up the stairs. ‘I think she will answer.’