by Cliff McNish
Heiki held them like treasured pets. ‘Are you ready for these?’
Rachel beheld Heiki. Her face was contorted with excitement. It was a brutal face – terrifying, almost inhuman. But she is human, Rachel reminded herself. To have any chance of finding Eric alive, she knew she had to avoid the death-spells. Even if she could defeat them all, it would take too long. She thought: before a Witch got hold of you, Heiki, you must have behaved differently. There has to be a way to get through to you …
Cautiously, Rachel drifted towards Heiki, opening her hands and mouth to prove she hid no obvious weapons.
‘Giving up already?’ enquired Heiki.
‘No, I’ve come for a chat.’
Heiki laughed. ‘Go on, then.’
‘What prize have the Witches offered you for defeating me?’
‘Something special.’
‘I doubt it,’ Rachel said. ‘I bet I can guess. They promised to change you, didn’t they? They promised to turn plain ordinary Heiki into a Witch.’
Heiki’s mouth gaped. ‘H-how do you know that?’
‘I was offered the same thing, on another world.’
‘And you didn’t want it?’ Heiki was amazed. ‘You refused?’
‘I didn’t like the killing I was expected to do in return.’
Heiki shrugged. ‘Only the best survive. No point getting squeamish.’
Rachel studied her closely. ‘Why did you order those kids to punish my Mum? She’s no contest. Where’s the challenge in that?’
‘Parents are rubbish,’ Heiki said vehemently.
‘You don’t like them, do you?’ Rachel edged closer. ‘Why not? What makes you dislike parents so much?’
‘No magic. The Witches—’
Rachel cut her off. ‘No. It’s not that. It’s something else, isn’t it? What are you holding back?’ Heiki appeared suddenly uncomfortable. ‘This hatred of adults,’ Rachel said, ‘it’s …got nothing to do with the Witches, has it?’ She leapt in the dark. ‘You hated parents before the Witches came!’
Heiki said nothing.
‘What happened?’ Rachel pressed. ‘What did yours do that was so awful?’
‘I won’t tell you anything.’
‘Did they hurt you?’ Rachel drifted nearer, until they were almost touching. ‘No, it isn’t that, either. What happened? Can’t you tell me? Is it too painful?’
‘Shut up!’
‘You were abandoned, weren’t you?’
Heiki flinched, as if she had been struck.
‘Shut up!’ she screamed.
‘Is that what the Witches promised you?’ Rachel asked. ‘Revenge on adults. Is that what all this is about?’ Heiki’s face darkened, her lips trembling with emotion. It was then, for the first time, that Rachel saw Heiki for what she truly was: an unwanted teenage girl, encouraged by Calen to hit out at everyone.
‘You don’t like anybody, do you?’ Rachel whispered to her. ‘Because no one likes you.’
‘How dare—!’ began Heiki, then tears burst from her bitter, angry face. The tears came so suddenly and with such energy that Rachel instinctively reached out a hand to console her.
Heiki shrugged it off, keeping her face covered to hide her feelings.
‘The Witches like me,’ she murmured at last. ‘Calen likes me.’
‘No,’ said Rachel. ‘She doesn’t. Calen’s just playing with you.’
Heiki clenched her eyes, holding back the rest of the tears. ‘I don’t want your pity!’ she muttered. ‘I am special. Better than other children. Calen told me so!’
Rachel searched for hope in Heiki’s resentful expression – but the brief moment of frailty had gone.
‘They’ll never make you into a real Witch,’ Rachel told her. ‘Calen’s lying.’
‘You’re wrong. I’m already a Witch!’ Heiki caressed her throat and gazed proudly down. A lean grey snake lay against her neck. ‘See!’
Rachel studied the infant snake and saw at once that it was a fake. It could barely breathe or hold its ginger eyes open – as if what little life it possessed was already fading. She lifted its limp head, and the snake did not even try to stop her.
‘Look at it carefully,’ Rachel said. ‘Do you really think Calen’s soul-snake was ever like this? They’ve given you a scrawny toy, to keep you happy. A Witch’s joke.’
‘That’s not true,’ cried Heiki, her cheeks flushing. ‘It’s just young and weak because … because it’s a baby and my magic’s not very powerful yet.’
‘There’s no link between your magic and this mechanical thing. I’ll prove it.’
Rachel cuffed the snake. Its jaw flopped open, and all its snake-colour faded immediately. White and semi-rigid, it lay unmoving in Heiki’s hand.
Heiki leapt back, stifling a scream. With great tenderness she examined her snake, delicately rubbing its scales. She breathed on the nostrils, hoping that might bring it back to life. When the snake did not respond she glared at Rachel.
‘You’ve killed it!’
‘I didn’t,’ said Rachel earnestly. ‘You saw I hardly touched it. A real soul-snake can defend itself. No living thing dies like this. Why can’t you understand?’
‘You’ll say anything, won’t you?’ snarled Heiki. ‘I was confused. I see what this is all about now. You’re just scared to fight!’
‘No, believe me,’ Rachel implored her. ‘That’s not—’
‘It was just a baby! It needed to learn like me, that’s all!’ Heiki stroked the snake’s flaccid neck longingly. ‘I … I might never be given a new one …’ She became silent; then her face darkened with controlled anger. ‘You had better run, Rachel. Try to find Eric. Go on! It won’t make any difference. Even if you reach him before me the troupe will get you anyway. They know your appearance, and your magic scent. I’ve instructed them to kill on sight.’ She smiled ferociously. ‘And they do exactly what I tell them.’
‘Did—’
‘No! I’m not listening! I’ll give you a few seconds head start …’
Rachel said, ‘Are you sure you want to fight, Heiki? If so, better make sure you don’t lose. No mistakes. Calen wouldn’t accept that.’
Heiki bent the hardening snake into a curve. Pressing it forcefully against her neck, she uttered a few soothing words to its blank face. Seeing this, Rachel knew that any chance of influencing Heiki had gone. If she enjoys stroking its lifeless body, Rachel thought, perhaps she can never be convinced.
‘Two seconds,’ said Heiki.
Rachel pulled Heiki towards her – and widened her eyes. Dazzling silver light flashed out. For a moment only, Heiki was caught off guard. Snatching the snake from her neck, Rachel tossed it towards the sea. While Heiki dived after it, Rachel shifted.
A few precious seconds …
She sensed Morpeth was achingly close now. Where was he!
Suddenly, a lonely sound – the caw of a gull – followed by the crash of waves against shore.
Land.
Rachel swept across the last of the ocean. A narrow pebble beach lay ahead. Walruses crowded in the surf, and beyond them rose sheer ice cliffs. Rachel flew above their massive height and discovered snow, the beginnings of a vast continent extending north. At first she could see nothing except a remorseless whiteness. Then she noticed green dots. As Rachel closed in the dots widened, gained limbs, became children, dozens of them, plummeting from the sky, attacking two others on the ground.
‘Morpeth! Eric!’ she screamed.
Flinging herself at them, Rachel dropped beneath the thin cloud. Heiki was behind, closing rapidly, matching Rachel’s movements. They swooped down together, so fast that no ordinary human eye could follow their speed.
Rachel made straight for the cluster of children.
But it was Heiki who landed first.
14
Victim
A familiar girl with long black hair strode confidently up to Morpeth.
‘Rachel!’ Filled with joy, he staggered towards her as best he could.
Another girl landed some distance behind. This one was thin and white-haired, identical to Marshall’s eerie description of Heiki. Morpeth shouted:
‘Rachel! Can’t you see she’s behind you!’
Ignoring him, the black-haired girl addressed the troupe. ‘Attack her! I showed you how!’
The children wavered, staring uncertainly at each other. Then they leapt straight onto the black-haired girl herself. ‘What?’ she gasped, trying to get away. Marshall was one of the first to reach her. He swiped her legs, pulling her down. As soon as she hit the snow the whole troupe sprang from all angles, pinning her arms.
‘No!’ screamed Morpeth. ‘Leave her alone!’
Barely able to walk any longer he tottered over, trying to pull them off.
‘Eric!’ he pleaded. ‘Help me!’
Eric raised himself from the snow. Getting to his feet he managed to take a few steps – away from the fight.
‘What are you doing?’ roared Morpeth. ‘Get over here!’
Eric ignored him. Gingerly prodding the snow by his feet he found the prapsies. They lay together, a mess of feathers in a snowdrift, stunned and bewildered – though not badly hurt.
‘Never mind the prapsies!’ Morpeth cried. ‘Do something! That’s your sister!’
Eric continued his thoughtful inspection of the child-birds. He tucked in a few misplaced feathers, tested wing muscles for damage, pinched their rosy cheeks.
‘Eric! What are—’
‘It’s not Rachel,’ Eric shushed him. ‘Be quiet, will you.’
To Morpeth the girl looked exactly like Rachel, even possessed her distinctive magical scent. ‘Surely …’
‘Trust me,’ Eric murmured.
Cross-legged, the white-haired girl sat in the snow, staying out of the fight.
For the first time Morpeth gazed closely at her. She gazed back, forcing out a meagre half-smile. The face was wrong, but Morpeth knew that smile. He turned back in astonishment to the dark-haired girl. Not Rachel, he realized – Heiki.
A switch of appearances.
The troupe had been completely fooled. They engulfed Heiki. As Morpeth watched, for one extraordinary moment she held them off. Dragging herself upright, kicking at the grasping hands, Heiki hauled herself across the snow and tried to get away. But before her dazed mind could make a shifting spell – or even begin to understand what Rachel had done – the troupe leapt on her again, and slammed her into the ground. They did not stop to think about what damage they were doing. Terror drove them. Somewhere close, in the sky above, Calen observed. She would punish any hesitation. And Heiki also looked on.
They could see her not far away, calmly expecting her orders to be followed. Hadn’t she demanded they be ruthless? The children followed her orders well, using fists and feet and spells. Amidst the snow turning to grey slush, they continued on and on with an incessant mechanical battering, waiting to be told by Heiki or Calen to stop.
Morpeth pleaded with the white-haired girl, ‘Rachel, surely that’s enough!’
Tears streamed down her pale blue eyes, and it was odd to see those soft wet tears against that hard brittle face.
‘Nearly. I can’t take any chances,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve no idea how strong Heiki is.’
When several seconds passed containing no sounds at all except the crunch of fists, Rachel undid the reversal spells, and shouted: ‘Stop!’
The real Rachel, her hair dark and flowing in the wind, sat in the snow. At first the troupe could not understand what they were seeing. Their minds fought against believing it. Finally the truth sank in and their arms no longer came up and down on the girl beneath. Stumbling, crawling, desperate to get away, they peeled off Heiki.
Rachel lowered her face – not wanting to see what they had done.
The children formed a wide circle, surrounding Heiki. She did not need all the room they offered. A small heap against the reddening snow, she lay spread out in all her injury.
‘Is she … alive?’ Paul asked.
‘Yes!’ rasped Heiki, her voice strangled. Somehow she found the strength to dig an elbow in the slush and prop herself partially up. All the children retreated further away – despite Heiki’s appalling wounds they were still frightened of her.
‘Get me up,’ she demanded.
The children wavered uncertainly, many looking at Rachel for guidance.
‘If you … don’t …’ Heiki said between short gasping breaths, ‘I will make sure … the Witches … kill … you all … I …’ Her face slipped to the ground. ‘Help me,’ she begged, sounding suddenly pitiful.
A few children, led by Paul, started walking towards Rachel.
As soon as she saw this Calen burst from the sky. With a single claw she plucked Marshall and two other children by their necks and hoisted them into the air.
‘You timid maggots!’ she cried, addressing all the children. ‘Follow me!’ She pointed at Heiki. ‘Except her. Leave her here.’
The older members of the troupe, many glancing despairingly at Rachel, raised their arms and flew into the air. Slowly they fell in behind Calen, following her northwards.
‘Can’t we do anything to keep them here?’ Eric called across to Rachel.
‘Let them go,’ she answered dejectedly. ‘I’m too weak to do anything now. So are you.’
‘I’m not too weak.’
‘You can hardly stand up, Eric.’
He tried – and collapsed when his frozen knees refused to lift him. The prapsies covered his hands, trying to warm them with their downy feathers.
In small groups, the remaining children rose from the snows. They picked up the four children whose flying spells Eric had destroyed and formed a sad, bedraggled line across the sky. The youngest were the most reluctant to leave. Bunching together, they clung tightly to Rachel’s side and squeezed between her legs. Finally even these toddlers lost their nerve. Holding hands they glided off together, pointing their mournful eyes towards the Pole.
‘Why won’t they stay?’ Eric muttered in frustration. ‘Surely they realize nothing good’s waiting for them out there!’
‘Of course they do,’ said Rachel. ‘But they know I’m not strong enough to directly challenge all the Witches. What else can they do except follow Calen and hope they don’t get punished too much?’
None of the children had stayed behind to assist Heiki. Fitfully, like a bird trying to make it home on a single ruined wing, she managed to flap awkwardly on her left arm. The right arm was dislocated, hanging limply by her side.
An easy victim, Rachel thought. A single spell would be enough to finish her off now.
‘Well?’ Eric asked. ‘Are you going to let Heiki escape, after what she’s done?’
Rachel’s voice shook with emotion. ‘There’ll always be another Heiki somewhere,’ she whispered. ‘Should I kill everyone who comes after me? What about all those kids who’ve been in contact with Witches already. They’re a danger, aren’t they? Isn’t that what Heiki would do – hunt them down just in case they’re a threat?’
Eric did not reply.
Morpeth shuffled up to Rachel and held her tightly. Together they watched Heiki pass overhead like a broken shadow.
‘I’ll help you,’ Rachel called up to her. ‘Let me.’
‘No,’ rasped Heiki. ‘I don’t want your help. I’ll make it back on my own.’
‘Even if you do, what kind of welcome do you think Calen will offer?’
Heiki said nothing, trying to heave her body further up the sky. The troupe were a long way ahead, leaving her ever further behind as they gradually dwindled, fading against the brightness of the Arctic morning.
‘I can’t believe Heiki’s trying to make it back to the troupe,’ Eric said. ‘Not after Calen did nothing to help her.’
‘She’s never faced a Witch’s punishments,’ Morpeth said quietly. ‘She has no idea what Calen will do to her.’
And then, overhead, he heard the flutter of wings.
/> ‘A whirling baby!’ marvelled a prapsy.
It was Yemi, clinging to his butterflies. All this time he had been waiting patiently for Calen. Where was she going with the children who made the shouting noises? They frightened him, and he was worried they might hurt Calen. As Calen flew away, he stayed quiet and still, as he had promised, but he felt scared. Then he noticed a familiar magic on the ground below. It filled him with the happiest of feelings. He floated down to greet it.
Rachel stood in the snow, surrounded by Yemi’s Camberwell Beauties. They circled her, landing on her head, making the prapsies nervous. Two of the largest, their wings revolving like helicopter blades, carried Yemi himself gently down.
Rachel held out her arms.
But before Yemi reached her a warning shriek made the escorting butterflies cover his eyes. It was Calen. Leaving the other children she raced across the sky, calling Yemi’s name over and over. Some of his butterflies waved their antennae excitedly at Calen; most hovered closer to Rachel.
‘Come, Yemi!’ Calen yelled. ‘Don’t make me angry.’
He hung uneasily just out of reach of Rachel’s hands. Some of his Beauties pulled his toes towards her; others tugged him towards Calen. Yemi looked longingly at them both.
‘Don’t struggle over him,’ Morpeth warned Rachel. ‘You’re too weary to fight Calen.’
‘I know,’ Rachel whispered – yet she could not stop herself. She opened her arms even wider, inviting Yemi inside. He sank lower, more certain, giggling at his butterflies.
As he touched Rachel’s outstretched fingers a smell came over the wind, from the direction of Calen. It was a female smell – sweet, faintly musky – and palpably human: the smell of his mother.
Deeply confused, Yemi glanced at Rachel, then Calen, his butterflies flapping uneasily about the sky.
‘Yemi, come.’ It was his mother’s gruff voice, emerging from Calen’s four mouths.
‘That’s not your mother,’ Rachel said.
Calen shifted. She reappeared as a faraway speck at the front of the troupe, leaving the powerful scent of mother lingering behind. ‘Follow me!’ she called.
