The Fathomless Fire (27 page)

“Come on, Will,” the doctor shouted. Will stirred and looked around. Shade was standing near him.

“Let’s go to the caves,” Will said. He couldn’t let them take the wolf. He would help Shade escape now, if he could, and go after the Sky Folk when he knew his friend was safe.

Hawk helped his sister onto the dun pony and led the way from the camp. Balor and Alazar followed with the horses, and Will walked beside Shade, who was still limping but able to keep up. When Will looked back, Finn was standing in the middle of the camp, watching them go. The Dreamwalker stood next to him.

They climbed the grassy slope nearest to the camp. Hawk led them over a rise studded with boulders, and down the other side, into a shallow, stony ravine that might once have been the channel of a stream but was now dry and overgrown with tall grass. Ragged clumps of brambles grew in crevices of the rock. Hawk pointed to a darkness under the brow of a jutting slab of rust-coloured stone.

“That is the largest of the caves.”

They all dismounted and led the horses. The camp could not be seen from within the ravine, but they could still see the dark cloud. It was much closer now and seemed to have slowed until it was hanging almost motionless overhead. The sun had been blotted out, as if dusk had fallen in a moment.

The cave entrance was large enough for the two ponies to be led unwillingly inside, but there would not be enough room for all of them and the horses, too.

“We’ll set them loose for now,” Balor said. “They’ll run from whatever’s inside that cloud. We can find them later.”

Hastily, he and Alazar removed the tack from the horses and set them running with shouts and slaps to the flanks. Cutter and the other horses seemed to understand what was needed of them. They set off together at a gallop down the hillside and away from the camp and the approaching storm. Moments later they were out of sight.

“Into the cave,” Balor shouted. With the two ponies, they all crowded into the dark, cramped space under the stone slab. Shade hunkered down beside Will. Hawk came in last and sat closest to the entrance, watching the sky. The rank smell of the terrified ponies filled the small space.

The wind was fierce now. Leaves, grass stalks and even small branches flew everywhere. The ponies whinnied and rolled their eyes in fear. Hawk held their rope bridles and spoke softly to them. A deep, low rumbling began from within the cloud and the earth shuddered. Pebbles danced crazily across the cave floor. All at once white fire stabbed out of the gloom beyond the cave. For an instant everything blazed like bright midday. Will ducked his head as the earth seemed to tilt under him and a tremendous roar filled his ears.

When Will looked up again, the wolves were there.

There were six of them, all with dark, matted fur and red-rimmed eyes. They had arranged themselves in a semi-circle near the mouth of the cave and stood motionless, watching. Hawk, who was crouching closest to the entrance, rose and backed up slowly into Will, who clutched his arm. He could feel the boy shaking.

“What are they doing?” Balor said. “Why haven’t they attacked yet?”

“Because of me,” Shade said, and before Will could stop him, he pushed forward between Will and Balor and limped out of the cave.

“
Shade
,” Will breathed desperately. “They can tell you’re wounded. They’ll attack.”

Shade did not reply. He walked slowly towards the wolves until he was only a few feet from them, then he halted and made no other move. One of the wolves, the largest, bared his fangs and growled warningly. Shade gave no responding growl but stood still as a statue. The large wolf crouched as if he was about to spring at Shade, who remained still. Just when Will was sure the lead Sky Folk wolf was on the brink of leaping to the attack, Shade moved.

He moved faster than Will would have thought possible. Silently, with a great bound, he leapt at the lead wolf and an instant later had him on his belly, pinned and writhing. The other wolves flinched and backed away. Some let out anxious whines.

Shade, his paws on the lead wolf’s chest, made a sound then, something between a growl and a bark. It was a short, harsh sound that startled Will and made him flinch like the wolves. Will had never heard Shade make such a sound. It was a statement of who was in command.

The lead wolf scrambled out from beneath Shade and crawled away to rejoin his fellows. Shade paced back and forth in front of the wolves, who whimpered and ducked their heads.

“They will obey me, for now,” Shade said to Will. “If their masters come I do not know what will happen, so I will lead them away from here, northwards.”

“But Shade,” Will cried, “how will we find you?”

“I will find
you
, Will Lightfoot,” Shade said. “No matter what happens, we will be together again.”

Suddenly he gave a loud yip and sprang away out of the ravine, and without a moment’s hesitation the wolf pack bounded after him, eager and panting, like submissive dogs following their pack leader.

“That’s it, then,” Balor said. “Shade’s given us a chance. Let’s find the horses and make a run for it.”

“Wait, where’s the boy?” Alazar shouted.

Hawk was no longer beside Will. Moon was still cowering at the far end of the cave beside Balor. Will darted out of the cave just in time to see the Horse Folk boy disappear over the rim of the ravine in the direction of the camp.

Will called his name, and ignoring Balor’s shouts for him to come back, he scrambled up the side of the ravine. At the top of the hill he paused. He could no longer see Hawk, but only a short distance away the dark cloud had touched the earth, its edges creeping like tentacles over the ground, almost surrounding the camp. The Dreamwalker and Finn were visible as tiny figures for only a moment, before they vanished in a sweeping curtain of cloud. For an instant Will had a glimpse of a huge dark shape within the cloud, something descending to the earth, but it was gone again before he could tell what it was.

A moment later Hawk appeared again below Will, from out of a fold in the hillside, running for the camp. Will shouted at him to stop, but the shrieking wind swallowed up his voice.

A flash of lightning struck so close it made Will stagger and fall to his knees. As he picked himself up, he saw a tall figure in a dark grey cloak appear out of the mist, moving towards Hawk with a net in its hands. Another cloaked figure emerged from the mist on the other side of the Horse Folk boy, and another followed swiftly behind. All the Sky Folk were masked to the eyes in grey, and the second and third each carried a long metal stave topped with a black sphere.

The sky will come to earth
, Will thought suddenly. The second part of the shadow’s message.

Hawk saw them. He halted for a moment, then dashed on again. Will saw the first of the Sky Folk lift his net, its edges weighted with what looked like dark metal discs.

But Will did not see him throw it. At that moment he heard the doctor’s shout behind him.

“Will! Run!”

Will whirled to see two more cloaked Sky Folk advancing on him. One had a net and the other carried one of the metal staves. There was no sign of the doctor or Balor. Desperately Will sprinted away, down the hill in the direction Hawk had gone, reaching for the hilt of his sword as he ran. Before he could draw it, there was a blinding white light all around him and something struck his body a painful blow that sent him sprawling. He lay for a moment, dazed and thoughtless, his skull seeming to crawl with a cold fire, then he staggered shakily to his feet and tried to run. To his horror his legs would hardly obey him. They had gone numb, as had his arms.

He had staggered only a few steps when dark shapes loomed out of the fog, moving swiftly towards him. Will stumbled away from them, but something caught at his feet and he fell, tangled in strange wet strands like ice-cold webbing.

T
HE
M
ARROWBONE BROTHERS HAD
spent a long night in their locked room high up in the Gathering House. No one had come to speak to them or bring them anything to eat since they’d been given some thin broth and hard bread the evening before. Flitch was sitting hunched on his narrow bunk, his eyes boring holes in the floor, while Hodge stood at the window, his enormous face squeezed between two of the bars.

“More riders are leaving, brother,” Hodge said excitedly. “That’s the third party this hour. I wonder where they’re all going.”

Flitch said nothing.

“Oh, wait,” Hodge said, straining on tiptoe. “There’s another rider, coming in through the gates. Riding fast. His cloak is all muddy. Looks like he’s ridden a long way. I wonder where he’s come from.”

One of Flitch’s eyes twitched.

“What do you think’s going on, brother?” Hodge asked.

“In your head, you mean? Not very much,” Flitch snarled, “as usual. And if you don’t come away from that window I’m going to maim you in a number of highly original ways.”

Hodge turned to his brother with a hurt look.

“Please don’t be that way, Flitch. I’m only trying to keep busy. Trying to make the best of it.”

Flitch glared at him but said nothing.

“At least we have a window,” Hodge said. “We never had a window before, in any of the other places we lived.”

“We’re prisoners, you dolt. We’re not living here. We’re trapped here.”

A tremor of panic rippled across Hodge’s face.

“What do you think they’ll do to us, brother? Maybe … maybe they like bacon for breakfast…”

“I already told you, they don’t kill their prisoners, and they don’t eat them.”

“But why not? Not that I want to be eaten, of course, but I don’t understand why they haven’t killed us already and strung us up in a smokehouse somewhere.”

“Because they’re
noble
. They have this ridiculous code of honour that only allows them to kill to defend themselves. Idiots. Eventually they’ll have to let us go, or even better, their little country will be overrun by
his
armies and then we’ll find a way to turn things to our advantage, like we always do. And when we do, I’m going to find that Skalding witch, that Freya Ragnarsdaughter, and…”

His enormous hands reached out like claws, as if he saw Freya in front of him.

“And eat her?” Hodge said cautiously.

“We wouldn’t be eating her, not right away. No, we’ll pay her back first. She was the one who led that little wretch’s friends to our lair.”

“You mean Sir William of the Seven Mighty Companions?”

“Don’t call him that. He was no
Sir William
. He was a scrawny nobody with powerful friends. He would have been ours, if it hadn’t been for her. The blacksmith’s daughter brought the one who doused the werefire and drove us out of Skald. So when we see her again, dear brother, and we will, we’re going to make her suffer. We’ll lead her on a chain through the dirt like she led us. We’ll see how she likes grovelling for her life. Oh yes, she shall grovel, and feel the whip…”

“Then we’ll eat her?” Hodge breathed.

Flitch nodded, his eyes half closed and his hands still outstretched, as if he was gripping an imaginary neck.

“Yes, then we’ll eat her,” he murmured.

Hodge summoned up a smile, but there was no delight in his voice as there might once have been.

“Well, that’s good, then. Now all we have to do is get out of here.”

Flitch’s eyes opened. His hands dropped to his sides. He looked up at his brother with hate-filled eyes.

“You have to spoil everything, don’t you?” he muttered. “Even my daydreams.”

He looked more closely at Hodge and his eyes narrowed.

“What’s the matter with you?” he said. “You’ve been more gristle-brained than usual since we got here. It’s that red-haired little snitch, isn’t it? The old man’s granddaughter. What did she say to you?”

Hodge was about to reply when they heard the sound of a key in the lock. Flitch stiffened, and Hodge backed away into a corner.

The door swung open. Two knights of the Errantry, armed with swords, stood in the doorway. A man in a long burgundy cloak strode into the cell. His face was flat, his eyes narrow. It was the kind of face that gave nothing away.

Hodge whimpered.

“Please, my good sir, remember your code of honour,” he snivelled. “You don’t eat your prisoners.”

The man’s thin lips parted in a faintly mocking smile.

“No fear of that,” he said. “I’m only here to talk.”

He raised a hand, and a moment later a short, stout man in a cook’s apron wheeled a small wooden cart into the cell. On the cart was laid out a heaping platter of steaming, juicy-looking cuts of meat, fresh breadrolls, a huge wedge of cheese, and a large wine bottle and two silver goblets. Hodge and Flitch stared at this unexpected bounty, hunger and suspicion playing across their faces. The man in the apron eyed them with obvious disgust.

“Waste of my efforts,” he muttered as he left the cell.

The man in the burgundy cloak gestured to the platter.

“Please,” he said to the hogmen, “help yourselves.”