The Shadow of Malabron (23 page)

As Will watched in awe, faint streaks of luminescence, like thin streams of fog, began to form in the wake of the toymaker’s staff. It seemed as if by stirring the air he had spun light from the gloom itself. The streaks grew larger and brighter, and began slowly to descend, moving in a ring about Will and his friends like rippling bands of the northern lights.

The two fetches approaching from the hill came out of the reeds into the clearing and suddenly halted. They seemed confused, or distracted, moving towards the swirling streamers of light, then back again.

For a moment Will could see the swaying reeds through the fetches’ wavering forms. But as the lights began to fade they took on shape again, and continued to advance, though more slowly than before.

“They’re still closing in,” Finn muttered. “What can we do?”

“I will try to draw off the three,” Pendrake said. “That should give you a chance to get Will and Rowen to the lake. These creatures usually avoid water. That may be our only defence. Shade, go with them.”

“I will, Master Pendrake.”

“When I give the word,” the toymaker said, “run for the lake and do not look back.”

The companions turned again to the three fetches that stood between them and the pathway to the lake. The toymaker clutched his staff with both hands and began to speak in a strange language, his eyes closed and his voice strained as though he were drawing the words up like water from a deep well. Once again Will found himself looking into the eyes of the woman.

Who is she
? he wondered, and an answer came to him.

The Lady of the Green Court
.

The woman held out her arms. Her eyes were filled with sorrow, and love. She smiled. The urge to flee faded in Will. And then a soft, soothing voice spoke in his thoughts.

You have come so far, Will. You have tried so hard
.

He had. She knew what he had been through. She understood.

“I’m … lost,” he said. “I don’t know what to do.”

She nodded and stepped closer.

You’ve been led astray. But at last we’ve found you
.

He was so tired. She understood everything. She would keep him safe. With her beside him there would be…

No more running
, her gentle voice promised him.
No more fear
.

“I shouldn’t listen to you,” he said, struggling to think, to remember something urgent that was slipping away from him.

You don’t have to listen to anyone any more. You don’t have to do what others tell you to do
.

She was telling him the truth. She knew everything. How did he really know that anything the old man had said was true? Just like this father, Pendrake had dragged him on a pointless journey to nowhere. But he didn’t have to listen any more. He didn’t have to be lost and afraid.

Will lowered his knife and took a step forward. Now he could see her as she really was. There was no longer any doubt. She was standing at the sink in the kitchen at home. He could smell baking. Sunlight was streaming in through the window. As he came towards her she turned and wiped her hands on her apron and smiled at him.

Home at last
, she said.
I was wondering where you had got to
.

She opened her arms and Will walked towards her. As he moved he heard Rowen cry his name, but her voice seemed to come from very far away. Dimly he was aware that she was warning him of danger, but it no longer mattered. He had found his way to the end of the story.

As his hand touched
hers
, he felt his body go cold, as if he had plunged into icy water. Everything around him grew dark, except for a pale, pulsing light that hovered just beyond his reach.
She
had vanished, and he stumbled forward, desperate to find her again. The light moved further away as he approached it. He felt no fear. He felt nothing at all, only the need to follow the light.

He heard a shout then, and felt something pulling him backwards, away from where
she
had been. Slowly he turned, trying to shrug off whatever was holding him back. A face swam towards him out of the dark. It was Rowen’s, he thought, but she was someone he had known long ago, and only for a little while. Why was she here now, what did she want of him?
Will, come on
, she was shouting,
fight them
. Her voice was distant and muffled, as if it was reaching him from underwater.

He saw that she had her knife drawn and was holding it out in front of her, warding off something he couldn’t see. Vaguely he knew what she was telling him, he knew he should listen to her, but he couldn’t remember why it mattered.

Then Pendrake was there in front of him. He gave a great shout and raised his staff over his head. Dazzling silver light bloomed in the air.

Will put his hands over his eyes. The light was hurting him, bringing back pain and fear. Bringing everything back that he wanted to forget. He cried out in anguish.

When he opened his eyes he saw that Pendrake had vanished and
she
stood before him again. But she was further away now, and somehow changed. She was still beautiful, but her smile was colder, her eyes watchful. Will’s thoughts cleared, and he understood that his friends were trying to save him. He knew that she was not who he wanted her to be. But he no longer cared. She was his only hope.

As he struggled forward, desperate to reach her, there was a shrill screech from above. Will halted. The woman appeared to hear it too. Her eyes widened and her pale form wavered. There was a rush of beating wings and through the woman a ragged black shape suddenly burst, as if through a veil of fog. It shot past Will, coming so close to him that he had to duck his head. It was gone in an instant, but he had glimpsed sleek black wings and a bright eye.

Morrigan
.

The woman’s form, shredded like smoke in a gust of wind, began to close round the hole that had been torn in it. Will watched in horror as the warmth and recognition faded from her eyes, replaced with a cold, murderous fire. Her form coiled in upon itself and in the next instant it billowed out again, growing in size and changing shape once more. The slender hands elongated into bony claws. Black, bat-like wings plumed from the woman’s arching back. Her lovely face contorted into a white mask of fury.

Will stumbled back as the fetch rose over him. Then he heard a shout and saw Moth near by, his bow drawn, an arrow notched and ready. An instant later, just as the fetch lunged at Will, the archer let fly. With a hiss the shaft sped from the bow and struck.

The fetch thrashed and shuddered, clutching at the arrow in its breast. It began to shudder and twist, and then lose colour and form. For an instant the arrow hung as if suspended in nothing but a wisp of fog. Then, with a sound halfway between a shriek and a sigh like a dying breath, the fetch vanished. The arrow dropped harmlessly to the ground.

Will felt himself come awake with a shock, as if cold water had been thrown over him. His heart seemed to begin beating again. It throbbed in his chest like a wound. He stifled a cry of fear and loss, and stared wildly around.

Rowen was at his side, with Finn and Shade. Pendrake stood near by. And there was Moth, with Morrigan circling above him.

The other two fetches had already begun to draw back. A second arrow from Moth’s bow transfixed one of them, and with an unearthly cry it vanished like the first. The third fetch halted and then, like a rope that had been held taut and suddenly let go, it collapsed into a coil and slithered away through the reeds.

Will staggered forward and then toppled helplessly to the ground. Finn helped him to his feet, and he felt the world heave under him and spin. He would have fallen again, but Finn held him. He watched as the two fetches approaching from the hilltop now moved apart from one another, either to flee or to come at their quarry from two sides. As they advanced they began to sink into the ground as if they were wading into deepening water, and then they were gone.

“This way,” Moth said, nodding his head towards the path to the lake. “Quickly, before worse happens.”

T
HE COMPANIONS HURRIED AFTER MOTH
down the tunnel of reeds. In a few moments they were at the lake shore. There, a little way from the bank, floated a raft of thickly matted moss and sticks, like a tiny island. Moth urged them on and everyone quickly leapt across the gap. The raft held them solidly but there was barely enough room for everyone. When he had joined them, the archer took up one of two thick wooden poles lying across the middle of the raft and shoved away from the shore.

Finn helped Will down onto the soft, mossy surface of the raft, then took up the other pole. The raft drifted slowly out into the lake and then seemed to catch a current that moved it more swiftly into open water. Shade stood at the trailing end of the raft and growled at the receding shore. Rowen and her grandfather crouched beside Will.

“Are you hurt?” Rowen asked anxiously.

Will struggled to answer, but no words would come. His body was cold and lifeless, as if icy slush was flowing sluggishly in his veins. The only thing he could feel was a throb of agony from his heart. His friends had saved him, but they had taken him from
her
.

Tears filled his eyes.

“The power of the fetch is still working in you, Will,” Moth said gravely, bending to examine him. “It will take some time to fade. Rest now. You are safe from them here.”

Shade ceased growling, padded swiftly across the raft to Will and sat beside him. Will reached out a shaking hand and stroked the wolf’s fur.

Pendrake stood and turned to Moth.

“You saved our lives, old friend,” he said. “Thank you.”

“The danger is far from over,” Moth said. “Your pursuer is the one who set the mirrors in the Wood. Morrigan and I picked up his trail there at last and we were following him. We knew he was after you.”

“The wisp I sent to throw him off…” Pendrake began.

“Found me, and led me to the knot-path.” Moth reached within his cloak and brought out the wisp, which bobbed and danced on his palm. Pendrake searched for his waylight and opened it. Sputter darted inside and its light swiftly dimmed and went out.

“You can find the knot-paths?” Rowen asked.

“They are usually invisible to me, but Will had just opened it, and I was able to slip through before it vanished again. I lost your trail in the bog, found it, then lost it again. You were doing a fine job of eluding any pursuers.”

“We almost lost ourselves,” Pendrake said drily. “But we’ll save that tale for later.”

“Morrigan and I arrived at the lake not long ago. Morrigan had seen that the fetches were near and were closing in on you. Since we once lived in this bog for a time, we knew of a way we might escape them.”

The raft was moving swiftly now, and Moth stopped poling.

“I have met others like you,” Shade said to the archer. “Long ago. They had arrows like yours, that could pierce the shadowshapes.”

Moth looked closely at the wolf and then spoke a few words in another language. Shade’s ears perked up. He replied in the same tongue and bowed his shaggy head.

“Your people were friends to the Speaking Creatures,” Shade said. “We were proud to stand alongside you in battle.”

“One of the Companions,” Moth said, his eyes wide. “There is clearly a tale here. But it will have to wait, too, like Master Pendrake’s. Until we decide what is to be done.”

They heard a loud cawing overhead and then Morrigan swooped down. She alighted on the tip of the pole that Moth held at arm’s length, and folded her wings. The raven and the wolf stared fixedly at one another, and for a moment it seemed to Will that they were two ordinary animals, each uneasy about this other creature close at hand. Then Morrigan cocked her head at Will and the others as if to comment on their strange choice in travelling companions. She hopped onto Moth’s arm, leant towards his ear and spoke in her odd language of croaks and clicks.

“The fetches are still at the shore,” Moth said when the raven had finished. “Waiting for the one that leads them.”

“I hope you have more of those arrows,” Finn said.

“They will not stop
him
.”

“Whoever their master is, he discovered the secret of the snugs,” Pendrake said.

“Yes, I found one with blood runes carved into its door,” Moth said. “Ancient spells of great power. There is no doubt any more. It is the Angel that hunts you.”

“After all this time…” Pendrake began.

“He has returned,” Moth continued, and his hand went to the hilt of the strange black sword at his hip. “You escaped him through the knot-path, but he must have sent the fetches on ahead, as if he knew or guessed which way you were going. I did not sense his presence in the bog, but I fear he is not far away.”