Witch Silver (18 page)

“I
still
think the MacArthur should have told us,” Mrs MacLean said angrily as they sat round the living room fire that
evening
. “I’ve never heard the like of it. Snow worms, indeed! They sound awful!”

“They were,” agreed Clara, “but, I told you, Mum. Prince Kalman saved me.”

“And he’s a different person now that he’s a Lord of the North,” Neil reminded her. “I told you — really fab! You’ll like him, Mum! We did!”

“If he saved you from these snow worms you keep talking about,” her father interrupted, “then he
must
have changed for the better!”

“Well, actually, I don’t think he had much of a choice,” Neil said, considering the matter. “He’d know that the Lords of the North would be as mad as fire if they heard he’d let her be eaten by snow worms and done nothing about it.”

“Don’t say things like that, Neil,” his mother scolded. “I still …”

“… think the MacArthur should have told you,” Neil repeated. “I know! I know! But look, Mum, can’t you understand! There was no time! If they’d waited for you to get to Edinburgh from here, Clara
would
have been eaten by snow worms!”

“Honestly, I’m fine, Mum,” Clara assured her yet again. “Now, can we change the subject, for goodness sake? How did you enjoy the play this afternoon?”

“
Pumpkin Pie?
” her father said, bursting out laughing at the
very thought of it. “It was excellent! Really excellent! I’ve never seen such a good school concert.”

“And serving slices of pumpkin pie afterwards was
such
a good idea,” continued her mother. “It finished the afternoon off nicely. Really,” she mused, “I’m so glad you’re enjoying Netherfield. Muriel would be pleased to know you like it.”

“And you played your part very well, Clara,” added her father.

“Such a pity that the teacher who wrote it was ill, though,” Mrs. MacLean said, looking at the clock on the mantelpiece and thinking vaguely about supper.

Neil and Clara looked at one another and grinned. They hadn’t quite got round to telling their parents that Miss Markham was a witch, knowing that they would freak. The Headmaster had made polite excuses and covered up her absence fairly well but the fact that Miss Markham and Herr von Grozny had both disappeared at the same time had raised quite a few eyebrows among both staff and pupils. Rumours, needless to say, had raced round the school like wildfire but none of them were anywhere near as fantastic as the truth.

John MacLean looked at Clara seriously. “And you say that it was your German teacher, the wolf man, who got the talisman in the end?”

Clara frowned. “Yes, Dad,” she said, “and to tell you the truth, I’m glad I don’t have it any more. I know Auntie Murial did it for the best but I think she was wrong to have left it to me in the first place.”

“
I’m
glad it’s gone as well,” her mother said, getting up to go to the kitchen. “I still can’t believe the trouble it caused! The whole of the Borders was turned upside down what with the scarecrows, the snowmen and the witches. But I must say,” she continued, “that it’s been lovely actually living here. Your dad’s
done a bit of gardening and I’ve been finding my way round the shops in Berwick and Coldstream.”

“Yes,” her husband smiled, “now that the builders have finally finished, we can relax and enjoy our new house — at long last!”

There was a pause. Suddenly Edinburgh and the Royal Mile Primary seemed very far away.

Neil and Clara looked at one another. “I know,” John MacLean admitted, “it’s like living in another world down here, isn’t it. I’ll find it strange leaving Edinburgh after all these years as well.”

“Has anyone moved into the cottage yet?” Clara asked, thinking back to their old house beside Arthur’s Seat. “Have you been given a date yet?”

“Actually, I meant to tell you sooner,” her mother answered. “Robbie Moffat’s moving in next Monday. He’s taking over your dad’s job and he and his wife want to move in before the end of the month. You can understand it,” she added. “They have young children and want to have everything sorted out before the Christmas rush begins.”

“And I’ve been offered job as Estate Manager on one of the big estates down by the river, so it all fits in rather nicely,” their father added. “They want me to start at the beginning of December.”

“Gosh! Great, Dad!” Neil said, looking pleased. “That’s
fantastic
!”

“Isn’t it,” Janet MacLean smiled happily. “Everything seems to be working out very nicely. And it looks as if you won’t be boarders for much longer,” she continued as her husband left the room to answer the telephone. “I must remember to pop in and see the school secretary next week to arrange places for you both on the school bus.”

Clara’s face brightened. Neil had made loads of friends at school but she hadn’t really settled to being a boarder. The thought of taking the school bus backwards and forwards was ideal. “Angela and Caroline both come to school on the bus,” she grinned, “they were witches as well …”

“You’ll make lots more friends as a day girl,” her mother nodded. “In fact, I’m thinking of having a Christmas party so that I get to know some of the mothers!”

Neil looked up as his father came back into the room. “That was Jimmy MacFarlane,” he said. “He’s asked us round to the farm tomorrow afternoon to meet some people from one of those English crop circle societies. Remember the night we saw the wheat making all those fantastic patterns, Neil?”

“Will I ever forget,” Neil shivered. “That was scary!”

“Well, apparently Jimmy took pictures of the field the next day and sold them to the
Berwickshire News
to make a bit of money. They splashed them all over the front page, of course, and the upshot of it all is that Jimmy’s been approached by some members of a crop circle club who wanted to investigate the field. They’re going to go over it with metal detectors to test it for signs of magnetism or some such thing.”

“Do you think they’ll find anything?” Neil frowned. “I mean …”

“I shouldn’t think so,” her father said reassuringly. “The witches are far too clever to leave any traces behind.”

“Hi,” Jimmy MacFarlane grinned cheerily as the car drew up at the side of the road.

“We aren’t interrupting you, are we?” John MacLean asked, looking across the yard at two men standing near the
farmhouse
door.

“Not at all,” Jimmy smiled. “Come along and meet Tony and Bill, the crop circle fanatics I was telling you about. They’re really anxious to meet you.”

Tony and Bill looked in their twenties and waved a hand as they approached.

“This is John MacLean,” Jimmy said, effecting introductions, “and his two kids, Neil and Clara. Neil was here with his dad when one of the crop circles was being made. In fact, he was in the field when the movement started.”

“Really,” the two men looked impressed as the farmer
nodded
towards the gate that led onto the field.

“That’s the Home Field there.”

Neil ran up to the gate and jumped onto it as he’d done before so that he could see out over the field. He heard Clara draw in her breath sharply, for Jimmy MacFarlane hadn’t
harvested
the wheat; he’d left the crop in the field. He could still make out the patterns although bits of it seemed to have fallen apart but that wasn’t what really stopped him short — it was the witches! Earth Witches! The field was full of them! Some were swooping over the field on broomsticks but, when they saw Neil and Clara, they flew to the side of the field and perched
on the fence posts like huge black crows. Waiting! Watching!

“I couldn’t harvest the crop,” Jimmy explained, leaning on the gate. “It was a complete loss so I thought I’d leave it and maybe make some money out of television and the papers. I haven’t covered my losses yet,” he added, “but I’ve managed to make quite a bit out of it! They pay well for good stories and crop circles are always news.”

“Do you mind if we go into the field?” Tony asked.

“Help yourself,” the farmer gestured invitingly as he pushed the gate open.

“Look at this, Bill,” Tony muttered, bending down to heave at a swathe of stalks. “It must have taken some strength to flatten this bit here. I can barely lift it.”

Neil and Clara wandered in after them and looked
cautiously
at the witches. Just what were they up to, perched here and there round the field, Neil wondered. Were they going to attack? He hadn’t forgotten the strength of their power on the night they’d made the crop circle and shivered at the memory, remembering how the strange force had tried to pull him into the earth.

“Cripes,” Tony muttered, “this is really something. And you say there was no one in the field?” he queried, turning to Neil. “What about UFOs? There weren’t any of them around, were there?”

“UFOs? Oh, you mean flying saucer type things?” Neil grinned as he realized the track their minds were following. “No, not a sign of anything like that.”

Jimmy MacFarlane, too, hid a smile. Flying saucers, he thought. What next?

“You see there must have been a considerable force at work to make all this,” Bill pointed out, backing Tony up, “and it must have come from somewhere!” He gestured round the field. “If
there was no human help … well, it’s reasonable to suppose that someone or something non-human, so to speak, made them.”

“I felt there was some sort of force,” Neil admitted. “Maybe it was because I’d been hiding in the field when it all started. I felt it pulling
me
down as well as the wheat. It was really scary.”

“Maybe we should get out the metal detectors,” Tony said suddenly, “and give the field the once over.” He looked at the farmer enquiringly. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked. “We’ve got all our gear in the van.”

“Go ahead,” the farmer smiled. “It’d be great if you found something! Preferably buried treasure! These blasted crop
circles
have just about ruined me.”

As Jimmy Macfarlane and their father wandered off towards the farmhouse, Neil and Clara perched on the gate and, like the witches, watched Tony and Bill quarter the field, moving the metal detectors from side to side as they moved steadily across. Suddenly, Tony gave a shout and waved at Neil. “Ask the farmer for a couple of spades,” he yelled. “We’ve picked something up!”

Mr MacFarlane nodded his head when asked for spades and pointed to a shed where a variety of tools hung on the walls. Neil ran across and lifting down two spades, carried them over his shoulder into the field. The witches, he noticed, seemed to have sensed that something untoward was happening and were slipping from their perches on the wall.

“Good lad,” Tony said, taking the spades and passing one to Bill, “there’s definitely something here.” Both men stripped off their jackets, handed them to Neil and started to dig. Once they’d cleared the remains of the crop, they made quick
progress
and as the trench deepened, so the piles of earth grew on either side.

Neil was almost hopping up and down with excitement and
the witches, too, edged closer until they stood in an interested ring round the digging. Clara eyed them warily, glad that they didn’t seem threatening.

The witches pressed closer as Bill brushed his hair from his eyes. “I’ve got a strange feeling that we’re onto something here,” he said.

Clara nodded. It was the presence of the witches. She, too, could feel it. The atmosphere was heavy, threatening and yet exciting, too. The witches weren’t exactly dancing up and down to see what was in the trench that Tony and Bill were digging, but they were peering down with expectant looks on their faces.

Neil tensed as he watched them, suddenly realizing there
was
something buried down there. The witches knew it and were waiting for it to be discovered.

“Don’t expect too much,” Tony cautioned, looking up at Neil, “it’ll probably turn out to be some old piece of farm equipment that was buried ages ago.”

“I don’t know,” Bill contradicted him, “this has a different feel to it somehow …”

Clara’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. “Wouldn’t it be
great
if you made a real find!” she said.

It was then that Tony’s spade struck something hard. “Give me some room, Bill!” he said excitedly. “I’ve hit something!”

By this time, the trench they’d dug was quite deep and Neil gave Bill a hand as he clambered out. Tony put his spade to one side and started scrabbling about with his hands in the earth. They heard his gasp of triumph as he sat back in the trench with a bit of a thump.

“What is it?” Bill asked, bending down. “What’ve you found? Anything valuable?”

“I’ll say,” Tony stood up, his head popping above the top
of the trench. “Tell me this isn’t gold!” He held up a goblet encrusted with earth but where the dirt had rubbed off, it showed raised, decorated motifs and it glinted yellow.

“Wow,” Neil and Clara looked at one another in excitement. “Gold!”

The witches hissed with excitement and flapped around Tony, trying to touch the goblet.

“Right! We stop here,” Bill said authoritatively. “Out you get, Tony,” and he gave him a hand to scramble out of the hole.

They had almost reached the edge of the field when Mr MacLean and Jimmy MacFarlane wandered up to the gate, deep in conversation.

The farmer stopped in mid-sentence, however, as Tony held up the goblet. He’d used his jacket to brush the bulk of the dirt off it and it now glinted yellow in the pale, winter sun. Neil, Clara, Bill and the entire coven of witches stood behind him as he smiled broadly at the farmer.

“You’re in luck, Mr MacFarlane,” Tony said formally, “by the look of it, I’d say it was Roman and it’s most certainly gold.”

Jimmy MacFarlane’s face was a picture. “You mean … you mean, you’ve
found
treasure?” he whispered, stretching out his hand for the goblet as though in a dream.

“It’s a huge hoard, Jimmy,” Bill said as Tony handed it over. “The detectors were all over the place!”

“You won’t have to worry about harvesting your crops now,” Tony grinned. “With gold prices what they are nowadays, you’ll probably end up a millionaire!”

After they’d finished oohing and aahing over the goblet, John Maclean decided it was time for them to leave. Tony and Bill wanted to use the phone to contact a friend who was an expert on Roman artefacts, and he didn’t want to be in the way.

“All very exciting, Jimmy,” John smiled, “but we won’t stop.
You look like having a full house without adding us to the mix!”

“I still can’t quite believe it’s happened,” the farmer said
seriously
. “You know, at one time, what with all the crop circles and all, I really thought we were going to have to sell up.”

“Yes,” Clara said without thinking, “the witches did you a good turn after all.”

Neil looked at her sharply and jabbed her in the ribs. There was a brief silence and she turned scarlet as she realized what she’d just said.

“Word’s got around already, has it?” the farmer smiled. “I’m not surprised. The farm’s been in the family for generations and it’s a tradition that if we look like losing our land we go to Witches’ Wood and threaten the witches.”

“You threatened the witches?” John MacLean said in
surprise
.

“I know it sounds daft,” Jimmy admitted, looking slightly shamefaced. “The men thought I’d gone off my rocker as well, but I was at the end of my tether and quite frankly, I’d had enough. Last week, I got them all together and we went out to Witches’ Wood loaded up with chainsaws, mechanical diggers … the lot!” He laughed suddenly. “We must have looked like basket cases,” he admitted, “clustered round the wood looking like a demolition squad gone wrong, but I told the witches fair and square that if they didn’t do something to save Blackriggs, I’d level Witches’ Wood to the ground and I brought a couple of the diggers into the field to prove my point.”

Neil and Clara exchanged knowing smiles, imagining the consternation that that must have caused. “I bet that put Maritza in a
real
flap,” Neil whispered.

“Well, it certainly worked,” their father looked at Jimmy MacFarlane with some amusement as they reached the car. “Now look what’s happened! Buried treasure!” Jimmy
MacFarlane nodded but his face was thoughtful as he turned slightly and looked over the expanse of neatly ploughed brown fields to the distant stand of black, leafless trees that rose eerily against a grey winter sky that was the colour of pewter.

“Aye, the threat worked right enough,” Jimmy MacFarlane said, “but you know what it means, don’t you?”

The MacLeans eyed one another sideways. The farmer’s gaze was still fixed on the distant hill but he turned and, as he looked at them, answered his own question. “It means, doesn’t it, that there really
are
witches in Witches’ Wood!” he said slowly, “Which would be why my fields were full of pentagrams. It was the witches!”

“You could well be right,” John MacLean admitted, glancing at Neil and Clara as the witches gathered to watch them leave.

Neil nodded in agreement. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Mr MacFarlane,” he said lightly. “If there
are
witches in Witches’ Wood then this is
their
home, too, and from now on, I reckon they’re
always
going to be on your side.”

As he said this, both children looked beyond the farm gate to where Maritza stood, broomstick at the ready. Her cloak
fluttered
dramatically in the breeze and there was a hissing from the rest of the coven as they piled in behind her, their faces strong and fierce. Maritza scowled at Neil’s words but the look in her eyes told both children that she’d got the message. She looked at them speculatively for a long moment but her gaze was not unfriendly as, with a wry smile, she bowed mockingly and, lifting her hand, gave the signal to leave.

The witches immediately slipped onto their broomsticks and Clara caught her breath at the sight of them rising into the air in a swirl of black robes like a cloud of monstrous crows. As the coven wheeled over the fields and swooped away towards Witches’ Wood, however, the atmosphere lightened noticeably
as a sudden shaft of pale winter sunshine pierced the leaden sky and made the air sparkle.

Jimmy MacFarlane, following their glances, looked at them strangely. If he guessed that they could see something that was hidden from him, he said nothing but, like them, he knew within himself that, after this, there would be no more trouble from the witches.