Hobgoblin

by John Coyne

  Scott had turned into Ballycastle through the south gate and driven up through the woods, back to where they had seen the Black Annis. There he stopped. In the early twilight he could still peer into the trees for several hundred yards. Weeks before, Scott had looked down on this section of the property from one of the turrets of the house. There were over two thousand acres of land, sloping upward and to the east in a solid expanse of trees. From the top of Ballycastle, it looked like a small foreign country. Now, in the twilight, he could not see anyone on the hillside. He drove the MGB slowly along the drive, scanning the slope, then polled the car over and glanced at his watch. His mother would not be home before six. She wouldn't have dinner ready until after seven. He had time. From the crest of the hill he might see the Annis, or find her cave. Scott slammed the car door and ran across the road and into the brush. For a moment he felt his old fear of the woods. It would be dark soon and he might get lost. He looked back at the green MGB. He would be able to see the car from the ridge, he decided, and then he would just walk downhill to the road. Scott ran straight up the hill. The trees on the slope had already begun to lose their leaves and he was able to move fast, dodging the bare, black trunks. There were deer paths on the slope; they crisscrossed through the grass, and in several spots Scott noticed trees whose bark the deer had scraped away. Halfway up the hill he ran out of breath. He stopped, leaned back against a tree and gulped for air. Below him he spotted the car, the emerald green a solid patch among the kaleidoscope of fall colors. It made him feel better knowing where he was on the hillside. He began to climb again, walking this time. It was steeper here near the crest, and he needed to pull himself forward on branches to get over rocks. At the top he found there was no clear spot, no peak from which he could see in all directions. Trees blanketed the top of the rise that now stretched out into a smooth plateau. It was easier walking here. It was almost like an orchard. The trees were spread out evenly, as if they had been planted, and the ground was thick with moss. Scott walked toward the setting sun that was flat ahead of him, a huge bronze, blazing ball. He had to keep his eyes down and away from the horizon. It took him five minutes of steady walking to reach the edge of the plateau, where he had a clear view. A few of Ballycastle's turrets pierced through the canvas of tree tops, and he could see patches of lawn, then part of the river and the boat basin. But no Black Annis. The sun had reached the far horizon beyond the castle. For a few moments, Scott watched as it spread out on the land, like a wedge of butter melting. It would be dark soon, he realized, and he had to cross back over the ridge. He watched a moment longer, wishing Valerie were with him. He would bring her up here, he was thinking, and surprise her, and then he saw the Black Annis. There was a rustle in the dry leaves right below him where the slope dropped away precipitously. He saw the birches sway as she ran away from the ledge, and at first he thought it was probably a deer. Then, as the path broke for a few yards into the open, he saw the yellow hair, the powerful body, dangerously strong. She was running from him, he knew, racing into the valley. "Wait," he shouted, but the creature kept moving, stumbling forward, bending branches and scattering red leaves on the forest floor. Scott went after her. He plunged forward, straight down the hill, but lost his balance in the thick bed of leaves and slid down the embankment. Indifferent to his bruises, Scott hit the bottom of the slope running. He had lost sight of the Annis in the trees, but he ran in the direction he had seen her go. Here in the valley, at the base of the hill, Scott's view was limited by the nightfall and the trees. Here, too, the soil was soft. Mountain streams flowed down toward the river. The mud sucked at his sneakers, and he tripped in the marshy ground. He stopped to catch his breath a second time. His side hurt and he doubled over and let the pain subside. When he straightened up, he took off his glasses and wiped away the sweat on the lenses. Nearsighted without his glasses, Scott gazed a moment into the distance. The vista was misty, unclear. He hooked the wire stems over his ears and looked again. Now he saw the mist clearly. It hung at eye level, a thin cloud woven between the black trees. Most of them were tall, straight pine or elm; their topmost branches created a high cathedral ceiling in the deep, narrow valley. For a moment Scott thought he had come upon Inisdoorus, the fabled valley of the Kilcourse clan. Brian Boru had once gone into that valley on a hazardous quest. Inisdoorus was a land where the sun rose and set one day a year and only on that single day were visitors allowed into the fertile valley. At night the cliffs guarding the valley came to life and destroyed strangers on horseback, attacking the defenseless. Brian, who had been sent by Matholwch, the king of Ireland, to find the golden cauldron, had to fight a giant named Llassur Llaesggvnewid. Scott smiled, remembering how Brian had tricked Llassur and his giant wife and children. He had been dealt two treachery cards and, rolling five hundred on the pyramidal dice, he had got the giant and his family to follow him outside the valley, distracting him with games of draughts until the sun disappeared and the guardian cliffs fell upon Llassur and his family. Brian saved himself by using the second treachery card. It changed him into a Ghillie Dhu, the green moss that grew against rocks, and he rolled down the long valley, escaping from the highland cliffs and from the land of Inisdoorus. Scott could hear the woods. The silence was broken with the sounds of birds flying nervously overhead. He looked straight up and spotted them, small blackbirds in coveys, darting from tree to tree. There were other sounds from the brush itself, of wildlife moving away from him and deeper into the trees. Deer, he thought. In the open fields beyond the castle he had often seen herds of a dozen grazing. As he slowly turned his head, keeping his feet stationary in the soft earth, he could not see deer or anything else. Yet the woods moved beyond the clearing. In the stillness Scott listened as the wind picked up with nightfall. It brushed the heavy fall leaves, sent a ripple of sound down the length of the long valley. Scott scanned back and forth, searching both hillsides for sight of the Black Annis. Now he was scared. From everywhere noises broke the stillness. Branches cracked overhead. The wind picked up. It whistled above his head. From behind there was an explosion. He spun around, stumbling in the marshy soil and falling. Two small golden deer broke from the underbrush, crossed the narrow clearing and leaped up the steep slope, their white tails bouncing in the darkness. Then Scott saw the Annis. She was crouched higher on the hill, behind where the deer had been hiding. "Wait!" Scott pleaded. He ran for the old hag, his feet sinking in the earth, slowing him. She didn't wait. She skirted over the rise and disappeared from sight. Scott scrambled after her, going up the slope. The ground here was hard and he used the branches to pull himself forward, turning his sneakers sideways to gain an edge on the hillside. At the crest there was level ground and a smooth deer path that slipped into the trees, ran straight for twenty yards. The trees were sparser here and even in the gathering dusk Scott could see pretty well. He began to relax a little. The castle was ahead of him, he knew, straight toward the setting sun. He took off, racing along the deer path. The Annis would go for higher ground, Scott guessed. In his Hobgoblin guide it said the old hags lived in caves above the tree line, in barren patches. This one's cave was probably someplace nearer Steepletop. It was the only place in Ballycastle above the trees, with a clear view of the country. Already the path was rising, Scott saw. It had lost its straight course and was twisting in the trees. He lost his breath and slowed to a walk. Still he kept climbing, searching both edges of the wood. The hag could disguise herself. Perhaps she had already, was hiding behind him, waiting to strike, to creep up on him on the path. He glanced at once over his shoulder, saw that the thin ribbon of a deer path was empty. Again he had come to an opening in the wood. A high, level spot as if a slice of trees had been cut from the forest, giving him a panoramic view of Ballycastle. Below him was the mansion. He was closer, less than a half mile, and from there he could see the barns, the house itself and the guest house. The house was all lit up, which meant his mother was there and waiting for him. He would have to stop soon and go home. He looke
d ahead. Now he knew where the Annis was headed. From where he stood he could tell that the deep path kept climbing, right to the crest of Steepletop. It would go by the graveyard, then toward the river beyond Steepletop. And now he knew where to find the Annis. He would go as far as the graveyard, Scott decided, then start down. He knew the path home from the top of the hill. Scott started moving again, back into a thick stand of trees. He had gotten another twenty yards higher, keeping his head down and both arms up before him, brushing back branches, when she came at him. He saw her yellow hair, the wildness of her eyes, and she was on him, stunning him with a two-handed blow to the side of his head. And then another, whipping him from side to side. Losing his balance, he fell back a few steps, slamming into a tree trunk, and before he could recover himself, she was coming again. Throwing up his arms to protect his head he went into a crouch and, terrified, smelled the foul odor of her breath. With a grunt of effort she threw her shoulder against his own, sending him flying off the ridge and into the heavy brush. Scott rolled for several yards, gaining speed on the sharp slope, bouncing over the hard, rocky ground. He came to a stop against a tree, breathless, unconscious, his long, thin body wrapped around the tree trunk.

  Security found the MGB on the south gate drive and telephoned the guest house. "The engine is cold," Barbara said, hanging up the phone and grabbing her down vest. "He must have left the car a while ago." "Would he take a walk in the woods?" Barbara shook her head as she went to the front door. "Scott isn't a nature lover. He hasn't been near the woods all fall." They were outside, walking quickly toward Barbara's station wagon. She had the keys out and went around to the driver's seat. "What about a class assignment?" Derek slid into the front seat beside her. "He could be doing field work for biology." "He isn't taking biology or zoology." She wheeled the heavy car around and gunned the engine, spewing gravel. "Which way?" she asked, confronting a network of interlocking drives below the castle, and realized she had never been on the south drive. "Left," Derek instructed. "Go behind the superintendent's house, where we park the tour buses. The south drive links up there. In Fergus's time it was used for deliveries and farm equipment, but we don't need it. There are too many accesses to Ballycastle as it is." Already he had decided to send a memo to Ted, ordering him to seal off the south gate. It was less than a mile to the gate from the main building. Ted Ward had parked his jeep beside the MGB and stood with two of the maintenance staff in the center of the drive. Barbara slowed and came up beside them, rolling down her window as she approached. "I got Lou and Rick here," Ted began at once, gesturing to the young men. "They're willing to help out if we need them." Ward was stooped down, looking through Barbara's side window, but he looked past her and directed his remarks to Derek Brennan. Barbara glanced at Ward. He looked like a cop, she thought. His face was square and sullen. She suppressed an urge to remind the man that it was her son who was missing. "We don't have much time," Ted continued. "If the kid went into the woods, we got maybe a half hour to find him." "My son's name is Scott," Barbara put in. The big man tipped his baseball cap and grinned, as if her remark were amusing. "Sony, ma'am. Scott. Your boy Scott could get himself lost in these hills. We got maybe six hundred acres of woods. And he's a city boy, ain't he?" Barbara looked away from the fat man, her neck muscles contracting with her anger. Quickly Derek intervened. "Ted, go on up there with Lou and Rick. Spread out along the south drive and walk west toward the big house." He spoke quickly, having formulated his plan on the drive from the guest house. "I'll drive your jeep around to the north drive. We'll meet you at the pond." "We ain't got much daylight, Mr. Brennan," Ted began to protest, looking toward the high ridge. "You have time enough to walk through the woods and into the pasture," Derek stated, making it an order. "Go ahead. You're wasting the little light we have." And then, in a softer tone, he added, "You can use the exercise, Ted. A hike through the woods will do you good." "What about that old woman? The shopping bag woman who was trying to break into my house?" Barbara was glancing back and forth, from Derek to Ted Ward, and she caught the silent exchange between the men, the initial frown on Derek's face. Then Ward spoke quickly, nervously. "We caught that lady, Miz Gardiner. I told Mr. Brennan that." "Yes, but what if she came back here and Scotty encountered her? It's possible. We don't know how long the car's been here." Barbara could hear the panic in her voice. That crazy woman had gotten to her son. Scotty was hurt somewhere in the woods. That premonition was so powerful it sent a shudder through her body. Shivering, she began to get out of the car. "Wait!" Derek instructed. "I have to look for him," she insisted. "Ma'am, over that ridge is hollow, marshy land. It's pretty thick going in those woods. I know, ma'am. We hunt this property come November." "We'll take the cars back to the north road, Barbara, and come in from that side." Derek had his hand on her shoulder, restraining her. "Please," she insisted. "I know where he is. I know he's been hurt." She shook off his hand. "All right!" he said angrily. Let her go. For a moment he took perverse satisfaction in knowing that she would soon find out how dark and difficult the woods could be, each foot of progress a triumph of will. Then he thought of Scott, of how frantic she must be, fearing for his life. And there was a chance she was right. Perhaps the woman had gotten to the boy, done something to him. She was certainly strong enough. Oh, Christ. He got out of the station wagon, went after Barbara who stood before the car, looking toward the woods, the steep slope. Already they had lost the sun and the temperature had dropped. Derek felt the approaching winter, and he wished he had worn a jacket. "There's no need for you to go too, Derek." "Barbara, I'm not going to let you go by yourself. The light's almost gone, and I don't want to have both of you lost on me." "This is my responsibility, not yours." She was still angry at his attitude. "There is no reason for you to tear up your clothes tramping through the woods." She heard her own voice rising, lecturing him, and she stopped speaking. She could not treat him like her son. Derek did not respond. Instead he asked Ted for his portable CB and told the security chief to go around the hill and meet them by the pond near the north gate. He turned to Barbara. "All right. Let's go." He stepped off into the woods, leading the way through the brush and up the steep hill. Barbara charged after him, angry at his presumption. He was humiliating her with his show of strength. She kept after him, like a terrier. At the crest of the hill he lost his breath and stopped. They had reached a plateau where the trees were not quite so thick. "This way," she said, breezing by him. They crossed to the far end of the plateau, then Barbara struck off downhill into the deep hollow. She moved on impulse, striding forward, slipping at times on the wet bed of leaves, but always moving, following her instincts into the dark ravine. He came after her, silent now, but she could hear him breaking branches, pushing his way through the trees, following her like a heavy, silent, brooding animal. She was lost now and no longer so convinced that Scott was hurt and needing her. She stepped forward into the soft marshy soil at the bottom of the gorge. "Wait!" Derek asked, gasping. He burst into the clearing at the base of the hill and stepped into the marshy grass beside her, immediately engulfing his feet in mud. "Oh, Derek, your shoes." She felt guilty, knowing she had goaded him into following her down the hill. "Yours, too," he answered. His anger faded with her obvious concern. "I'm sorry I got upset with you." She leaned against him, felt the strength of his body. Then she added, "If we go up the other side, we can get out of here." "Sure?" Barbara shrugged, smiled wryly. They both knew she had no idea. "All right, you've convinced me," Derek laughed. Taking her hand, he led the way up, climbing through the second growth of trees on that side of the hill. "Oh, we're here," Barbara said, reaching a second hilltop and seeing the castle. "Yes, we're here and it's there," Derek answered. He pointed ahead, down the hillside. "The pond is below us. If we go through the woods, we'll reach the pasture land by the north drive." "I don't think that's the way." She pursed her lips, as if summoning up psychic skills, waiting for that same flash of recognition she had had down on the road. Nothing happened. She opened her eye
s and saw the narrow deer path that followed the ridge line. "Barbara, it's almost dark. We're going to get caught without a flashlight." "He went this way," she insisted, pointing to the path that went up, away from the castle. "All right, we'll follow it to the firebreak. I'll call Ted on the CB and have him meet us with the jeep." "Tell him to bring blankets." Derek flipped on the CB and picked up the security jeep. "I was just about to radio you," said Ward, his voice hearty even over the radio. "We've got the kid." "Is he all right?" Barbara asked, grabbing Derek's arm. "How's Scott?" "He's okay. Been cut up some, but okay. Conor found him up on the ridge, near the firebreak road." "What happened to him?" Barbara leaned closer to Derek and spoke into the CB. "Ma'am, I don't know. He didn't talk much. He's pretty upset. Kept saying he was looking for someone named Black Annis and she attacked him on the ridge." "Black Annis?" Derek looked at Barbara. "Who does he mean?" "Hobgoblin." Barbara turned away from Derek. The wind blew up out of the valley, whipped around her as she stood exposed on the tip of the ridge. She looked toward the castle, toward the guest house. Like a boy possessed, he had plunged into these woods, pursuing a danger that existed only in his mind. But he believed! Barbara felt sure that Scott had been chasing the same madwoman who had attacked the guest house. But the shopping bag lady, terrifying as she was, was not what frightened Barbara most. It was knowing that Scott had seen a Black Annis in the hills of Ballycastle, if only for an afternoon.