The Night Spinner

by Abi Elphinstone

  ‘A train journey!’ Siddy cried. ‘I’ve never been on a train before, only horses and wagons. What a way to kick things off!’

  But Moll wasn’t listening. ‘The northern wilderness . . .’ she murmured, looking over her shoulder to see Gryff watching from the steps of her wagon. None of the camp knew where the wildcat had come from – he had simply arrived in the forest to keep Moll safe the night the Shadowmasks killed her parents – and he had been by her side ever since. But there was talk that wildcats came from the north and Moll had always wondered whether the wilderness was where Gryff really belonged. She swallowed. What if this last adventure was a journey to lead him home?

  Cinderella Bull leant forward. ‘Now the old magic has sent a sign, you must leave at dawn.’

  Mooshie shook her head. ‘The children need more rest and—’

  ‘There’s no time to spare, Moosh,’ Oak interrupted. ‘It’s a two-day walk to the train line from here. They have to leave tomorrow.’

  ‘They?’ Moll said quietly. ‘You – you aren’t coming with us?’

  Oak turned to Moll and Siddy. ‘The old magic might have saved me from the Shadowmasks’ cursed owls – their wings, all sharpened like knives and coated in poison, couldn’t kill me back on the cliff tops – but ever since that fight my legs have been slower. And you need to be led by someone strong, someone fast, someone who can keep you safe.’

  Domino crossed the fire and crouched before them and Moll suddenly understood why he had been called to the Elders’ meeting.

  ‘You’re coming with us, aren’t you?’

  Domino nodded. ‘I promised my pa I’d protect you, Moll. You, Siddy and Gryff – and that I’d do everything in my power to find the last amulet.’

  Moll tried to imagine a journey to the northern wilderness without Oak, without the man who had taught her how to climb trees and fire a catapult. But the old familiar structures that had once held up her world were gradually falling apart. Alfie was gone, Oak would be staying in the forest and she and Siddy would be on the move again, away from the safety of their camp.

  Domino twisted the spiked rings on his fingers. ‘For what it’s worth, I don’t believe Alfie’s gone either, Moll. We’ve got no proof, of course, but sometimes a feeling deep in your gut is all you need to find someone.’ He paused. ‘I know I’m not the same as Pa, but I’ll help you bring Alfie home, I promise.’

  Everything Moll had ever learnt about speed in the wild – how to outswim the river’s currents, how to track the swiftest deer and how to run with wild ponies out on the heath – had come from Domino. And as she thought about those times and looked at Domino’s face, the same dark hair, olive skin and kind eyes as Oak’s, suddenly the shift from father to son didn’t seem quite so strange.

  The Elders began to clear away their upturned logs and tin cups, but Oak, Mooshie and Domino stayed with Moll and Siddy. Beneath the silent trees, they spoke of the northern wilderness and all that might be waiting for them there. And, when the rest of the Elders had gone to bed and only they were left, they wrapped arms around each other and, in the fragile shell of lantern light, Mooshie called upon the old magic to keep them safe.

  They set off at first light, their quivers filled with arrows and their rucksacks stuffed with blankets, food and water. The whole camp had come out to the edge of the forest to see them off, but it was Oak’s and Mooshie’s tear-stained faces that Moll held in her mind as she followed Domino across the heath and then past numerous villages and rivers before they stopped to spend the night in an abandoned barn.

  The next morning they were up again at sunrise as they headed on through the countryside, but it was only as twilight fell on the second day and they found themselves on a bridge above the railway line that Domino explained the exact nature of the rest of their journey north. And that conversation had meant a drastic rethink for Siddy, who had spent a large proportion of the walk chattering about polished train carriages and leather seats.

  Moll gripped the leather strap of her quiver, crouched low on the bridge and trained her eyes on the wall in front of her. She tried to count the slabs of stone to take her mind off the task ahead, but still her heart drummed.

  ‘How long before it comes?’ she whispered.

  Beside her, Siddy straightened his flat cap. ‘I don’t think this is a good idea.’

  ‘It was Oak and Domino’s only idea, Sid. The station will be buzzing with policemen and ticket officers; there’s not a chance they’d let us three and a wildcat on to a train for free.’

  Siddy swallowed. ‘Still, jumping on to a freight train as it shoots out beneath a bridge – it’s not exactly how I imagined the journey . . .’

  Moll glanced at Domino who was hunkered down behind the wall beyond Siddy. His duffle coat was fastened right up to his neckerchief and Moll knew that inside the pockets he had a pistol and a knife – he wasn’t taking any chances.

  ‘How long, Domino?’ Moll asked again.

  ‘The train left Congalton station at six and it takes half an hour to get here.’ Domino checked his pocket watch. ‘We’ve got ten minutes.’

  Moll glanced at Gryff beside her, his muscles tense under his fur, his ears swivelled towards the undergrowth before the bridge, to the tangle of blackthorn, willow and knapweed. Moll could see nothing beyond the autumn leaves and branches scattered with berries, but she knew Gryff could. He could see and hear things humans couldn’t. A rabbit hopped out of the bushes, its nose twitching, and the wildcat bared its teeth and hissed. The creature bolted and Moll smiled as Gryff moved closer to her. The wildcat’s reactions were often unpredictable, but to her he was fiercely loyal.

  Siddy took a deep breath. ‘And we’re absolutely definitely sure there’s no other way of getting north except for throwing ourselves on to a moving train?’

  Moll nudged her plait over her shoulder and turned to him. ‘Come on, Sid. We’ve faced Shadowmasks, cursed owls and deadly eels before. Leaping on to a train is nothing compared to all that.’

  Siddy picked at the cuff of his coat. ‘It’s just that starting the trip off with a train jump makes me a bit nervous about what to expect next . . .’

  Moll scowled. ‘This is not a trip. It’s a mission.’

  Domino put a finger to his lips. ‘Shhh. Listen.’

  Behind them the tracks were humming and crackling. A train was drawing close.

  ‘Keep down or the driver will see us,’ Domino whispered. ‘But, when you see the steam, climb up on to the wall – it means the train is passing under the bridge and it’s time to jump.’

  Moll smoothed the sweat from her hands on to her trousers and then she waited, clutching the tiny gold boxing fists that hung from a chain around her neck, her talisman to ward off evil. She tried to steady her mind by thinking of the blackthorn growing either side of the bridge, how Oak would have carved a walking stick from the wood and Mooshie would have picked the sloe berries to make jam. But Moll’s heart was now thumping and her thoughts were skittish.

  A rhythmic chuffing began behind them, distant at first and then louder, closer, until the roar of wheels against steel filled Moll’s ears. A horn blared, the bridge beneath them seemed to tremble, and then clouds of billowing steam hissed and puffed around them.

  ‘Now!’ Domino roared.

  They all scrambled up on to the wall. Gryff followed and Moll felt her toes curl inside her boots as she fought for balance and then there, shooting out from beneath the bridge, was the train – a blur of freight trucks half hidden by steam. Moll’s eyes grew wide. It was the fastest thing she’d ever seen, a bullet charging through the tangled undergrowth.

  ‘Jump!’ Domino shouted, leaping from the bridge with Siddy’s hand clutched in his.

  A split second later and they were gone, lost in the steam and the speed. Moll’s body froze, seized by panic, and the bridge beneath her seemed to sway. Then she felt Gryff’s body lean into her own, drawing out her courage. She bent her knees, clenched her teeth, and they j
umped.

  Moll’s feet slammed on to metal and the force juddered through her bones before she flattened herself to the roof of the truck, her fingertips gripping hard and her eyes shut tight against the rush of wind. She’d made it.

  Moll opened her eyes a fraction to see Gryff crouched beside her, his fur and whiskers rippled back in the wind. They were beneath the trail of steam now and were charging through the countryside, the brambles, cow parsley and nettles either side of the tracks just a blur of undergrowth as they sped on past.

  Moll lifted her head. Siddy was sprawled face down two trucks in front, but Domino was now scampering over the roof on all fours in her direction.

  ‘Come towards me!’ Domino shouted above the chugging and the hissing of the train.

  Moll pressed her palms on to the roof, let the wind stream down her neck and began to crawl. Gryff prowled by her side, keeping low, and, though the truck jostled and juddered, they kept moving towards Domino – hands and knees inching over the metal. But, when Moll reached the edge of the truck she was on, she peered down and gulped. There was a metre gap between her and Domino – and a racing streak of gravel and tracks in between.

  ‘Give me your hand!’ he cried.

  Moll loosened her hold on the truck roof and held out one shaking palm, then the train jerked and she stumbled forward, her body lurching into the gap. But, in that second, two strong hands grabbed her coat. Moll’s legs clanged against the metal couplings connecting the trucks and her heart beat double time, but Domino’s fists tightened and he hauled her up on to the next truck. A moment later, she was beside him, and Gryff was pawing at her chest.

  Moll sat up and blew through her lips. ‘Thank you,’ she panted. ‘That could’ve been a disaster.’

  Domino winked. ‘I said I’d look after you.’ He gestured further along the carriage. ‘I’ve got him to sort out now though.’

  Siddy was still lying face down on the truck roof, his curls flapping in the wind. Moll scrambled towards him with Domino and Gryff.

  ‘I’m not moving,’ Siddy groaned as they drew close. ‘I’m travelling all five hundred miles to the northern wilderness right here.’

  Moll poked him in the ribs. ‘I nearly died back there, Sid! You could’ve at least come and watched.’

  Siddy opened one eye. ‘You nearly die most days, Moll. I can’t be there every time.’

  Domino put a hand on Siddy’s shoulder. ‘We’ve got to get down inside this truck before we’re seen – it’ll be dangerous if there are bridges ahead.’

  Moll nodded. ‘Other train jumpers might land on you when they leap, Sid.’

  Siddy forced himself up on to his knees. ‘There are no other train jumpers, Moll. We’re it. We’re the only ones mad enough to hurl ourselves on to moving metal.’

  Domino looked at Moll. ‘I was meaning it’s dangerous because the bridges ahead might be lower than the one we jumped from and we could be crushed.’

  Moll was silent for a moment. ‘That, too, is dangerous.’

  The undergrowth either side of them gave way to gravelled banks and fields full of cows and Moll’s eyes streamed as she took in the hedgerows and sycamores, bright orange in the sunset. A month ago trees and heath had been her whole world, then the Shadowmasks had started coming for her and Gryff and she’d discovered secret caves and waterfalls, she’d met a smuggler kid and a lighthouse keeper, and now – as they sped on through the fading light – there would be the north.

  Domino inched towards the edge of the truck, then pointed down. ‘There’s a door here; if I can slide it back, we can hide inside.’

  He lay on his front, bent over the bolt and pushed against it with his fist until it slid back and the door clanked open a fraction. Domino manoeuvred himself over the edge before nudging the door back a bit further and disappearing inside.

  Moll followed Gryff into the truck and eventually Siddy clattered down after them. Then Domino pulled the door to, shutting out the whir of fields, farmsteads and steam. The compartment was dark and musty and filled with sacks of grain, but it was quiet and safe and, as Gryff slipped off into a shadowy corner, Moll and Siddy lifted the quivers from their shoulders and flopped down on top of the sacks.

  ‘Well, it’s not exactly as I imagined,’ Siddy mumbled, ‘but at least we’re on our way north.’

  Domino shook his rucksack open and reached for a chunk of bread. ‘Moll’s lucky to have you, Sid. There’s aren’t many friends who would come on a journey like this.’

  Moll laid down her quiver and bit into her bread. Sid had followed her through everything, right from the moment the first Shadowmask, Skull, had come after her, and although his was a quieter sort of courage than Moll’s, slow to build and sometimes shaky, it was invincible when it really mattered.

  ‘You take a while to get into adventures, Sid,’ Moll acknowledged, ‘but once you’re in you’re pretty nifty.’

  They listened to the train chugging north for a while and Moll hoped with everything inside her that Alfie was alive and that they were moving closer towards him.

  ‘By dawn we’ll be in Glendrummie,’ Domino said, ‘the northernmost village on the line. We should get some rest.’

  Siddy tugged a blanket from his rucksack, threw one end to Moll and tried to get comfortable beneath it. ‘A meeting with strangers in the last village before the land grows fully wild.’ He shuddered. ‘What happens when things get fully wild?’

  Domino loosened his neckerchief and leant back on the sacks. ‘Pa says that beyond the North Door – the gateway to the northern wilderness that lies just beyond Glendrummie – there are miles of moorland with peat bogs that suck you down whole and great lochs as deep as the mountains are high. There are ospreys, stags and highland cows too.’ He paused. ‘And selkies and giants, if you believe the old stories.’

  Moll thought of everything the Shadowmasks had done, of the pain that they had caused. ‘We can handle all that,’ she muttered.

  Siddy groaned and then rolled over. ‘I’m going to sleep.’

  Moll woke suddenly. The compartment was no longer jostling from side to side – it was absolutely still, the chug of wheels and steam drained to silence. Moll felt a brush of fur against her arm and sat up, blinking into the darkness. Gryff’s eyes, burning green in the shadows, shone back at her and she placed a hand on his back.

  ‘Have we arrived?’ she whispered, nudging the others awake. ‘Is this Glendrummie?’

  Domino crawled over the sacks, pulled the door back a little and peered out. Moll and Siddy stood up behind him and squinted through the gap.

  It was still night, but they had pulled into a station. Millbury, the sign above the waiting room said, only just visible in the light of the lantern the man on the platform held. He was some distance away from the truck that they were hiding in, but Moll could see that he was dressed in uniform – a peaked cap and a large overcoat with shining gold buttons – and he was talking to a woman dressed the same way.

  ‘Train drivers,’ Domino whispered, ‘Looks like one’s finishing a shift and the other’s taking over.’

  Siddy settled himself back down on the sacks. ‘Well, I hope the new one’s a better driver. That man had no idea how to take corners; I’m bruised all over.’

  ‘Look!’ Moll hissed. ‘There are more people on the platform – lots more people . . .’

  A large group emerged from the waiting room: elderly folk hobbling on sticks and little children clinging to their parents’ hands. They shuffled towards the drivers, and Moll, Siddy and Domino strained their ears towards the conversation.

  ‘Congalton?’ one driver scoffed. ‘That’s five hours south of here. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow afternoon for the next passenger train.’

  There were hushed whispers, then a woman’s voice rose up – desperate, pleading. ‘Please. There must be a train sooner. We’ve fled from our homes beyond the North Door and walked for two days to get here. We’ve nowhere to stay!’

  More words
were exchanged and a small child began to cry. Then a driver’s voice came, loud and firm.

  ‘This is madness, all this talk of evil stalking the northern wilderness and forcing you out.’

  ‘It’s not madness!’ an old man within the group cried. ‘There’s something poisoning people’s minds as they sleep and we’ve seen it! A blanket of darkness covered our houses and our farms, and people woke jabbering like madmen. Grown men reduced to wrecks, children with haunted eyes . . .’

  Moll glanced at Siddy, wondering if he was thinking the same as her. When the Shadowmasks murdered Moll’s parents, they shaved their heads and, for a long time, Moll had never known why. But the second amulet had held her ma’s soul and she’d told Moll and Siddy that the hair had been taken to be used as thread. And, with it, the Shadowmasks plan to weave a quilt of darkness – those were the very words Moll’s ma had used. What if the ‘blanket’ this man was talking about was the quilt?

  But before they could listen to any more a whistle shrieked and the train lurched forward. Once again they were off, bound for the northern wilderness.

  Moll, Domino and Siddy sat in the shadows and for a while no one said anything.

  Then Siddy took a deep breath. ‘Moll’s ma told us about a quilt of darkness. It can’t be a coincidence.’

  Moll ran a hand down Gryff’s throat. ‘But the Shadowmasks’ magic has only ever been directed at those connected to the Bone Murmur. The witch doctors have stayed out of dealings with other people.’

  ‘Until now,’ Domino said. ‘We need to stop them – for the sake of the old magic and for all the people living here. Just a couple more hours and we can speak with the villagers up in Glendrummie and see what they know. We’ve got to trust the fire spirits’ message.’