The Night Spinner

by Abi Elphinstone

Domino frowned. ‘Why does that mean we should trust the people inside or even that the door will be open?’

  Moll forced her words out, the bare bones of a plan in the face of a howling storm. ‘Mooshie said heather was a protection charm, remember? Maybe we’ll get inside that cottage and – maybe – we’ll be safe there.’

  Siddy huddled closer to the group as another peal of thunder tore across the sky. ‘It’s our only option, isn’t it?’

  Domino braced his body. ‘On three then.’

  They gripped each other’s hands, Gryff narrowed his eyes and they forced their way up the road. The wind hollered in Moll’s ears, hail beat at her face and forks of lightning pierced the sky, but every muscle in Moll’s body was steeled against the Shadowmasks’ magic.

  ‘Faster!’ she cried.

  They raced on towards the cottage, right up to the terracotta pots filled with heather lining the front wall. There were no shutters over the windows or boards across the door, but there was no sign of life from within either. Moll gripped the doorknob and hoped hard as she turned it. There was a click and Moll’s heart leapt, then the door opened and the group charged inside before pushing the door shut against the pummelling hail.

  The sudden quietness of the house surrounded them: the rocking chair on their left motionless by the fireplace and a clock ticking faintly above it. There was a threadbare rug in front of them and a rickety table to their right surrounded by copper pans and cooking utensils hanging from the walls. Moll breathed deeply. Perhaps the house was deserted. Perhaps this really was a haven from the Shadowmasks’ menace and they’d be safe until the storm passed.

  And then Siddy began to edge back towards the door. ‘The table’s set for four people . . .’ he whispered to Moll.

  It was at that moment the stairs beyond the rug creaked and Moll’s stomach flipped as a man very unlike the villagers they had glimpsed came into view: broad about the shoulders, ginger-haired, dressed in tartan. And in his hands he held a shotgun. He clicked the safety catch back.

  ‘Let’s be having you, then,’ he muttered.

  Siddy dropped his bow to show that he meant no harm and Domino took a tentative step forward.

  ‘We’re—’ he started.

  Moll nudged Domino aside and pulled back on her catapult. ‘Let’s be having you,’ she spat.

  Siddy turned an appalled face to her. ‘What are you doing?’

  Moll blinked. She had no idea what she was doing. The catapult had just seemed like an obvious reply to the situation.

  ‘We came in here for protection,’ Siddy hissed. ‘Not a fight!’

  The man on the stairs stepped down on to the flagstones. He was small but stocky – two ginger-haired legs set firmly apart beneath his kilt, hands tight fists around his gun and hair so red and wild about his face it looked as if he had rusted a little at the edges. Moll gulped as she took him in properly. There were few things more worrying than small, angry people – and she would know.

  ‘Who are you?’ the man grunted. ‘And why are you in my house?’

  ‘We’re from the south,’ Domino said. ‘We needed shelter from the storm and when we saw your protection charm – the white heather – we thought perhaps you could help us.’

  The hail outside had eased off and the wind had dropped, but the man looking down the barrel of his gun wore all the fury of the gale in his eyes. ‘Did you bring this evil with you?’ he growled. ‘The storms and the quilt and the madness it brings? This darkness has attacked our town for the last three days,’ he took a stride towards them, ‘but today I swore I’d keep my door open so that I could fight this menace once and for all.’

  Siddy shook his head. ‘We’re here to fight it too.’

  The man snorted, then curled a finger round the trigger of his gun.

  ‘Please! We don’t mean any harm,’ Domino cried. Then he dipped his head and very quietly uttered a word that Moll had never heard before: ‘Sìth.’

  For a few moments, only the water dripping from the gypsies’ clothes on to the flagstones filled the silence and then, to Moll’s surprise, the man lowered his gun and, at the top of the stairs, a woman and two ginger-freckled children, a boy and a girl, appeared.

  Moll frowned at Domino. ‘What . . .’

  ‘The northern word for peace,’ Domino whispered. ‘It’s a promise you won’t fight. Pa taught me – and it’s a little friendlier than a catapult.’

  The red-haired man placed his gun against the wall, but his expression was still guarded. ‘How does a southerner like you know the rules of the north?’

  ‘My pa spent some time working on a farm down south with a family who had come from up here,’ Domino said. ‘They taught him about their customs and my pa shared some of his . . .’

  The red-haired man stiffened. ‘His . . .?’

  ‘We’re gypsies,’ Domino went on. ‘And we come in peace.’

  He raised his palm slowly and then folded it into a fist and crossed his chest. Moll and Siddy exchanged looks; the ways of the north were so different from the ways of their woodland world.

  ‘And the wildcat?’ the man asked warily.

  Moll puffed out her chest. ‘He’s with us. And he also comes in peace.’

  The man eyed the group for a few moments and then eventually he too lifted his palm and crossed his chest with his fist. ‘I’m Angus MacDuff and this is my wife, Morag, and our twins. We haven’t had newcomers to the village all month – more people leave than arrive with these dark goings-on. And then you stop by and we have the worst storm yet. What’s all this about?’

  Moll thought of the villagers she’d seen huddled in their houses and felt herself hovering between trust and watchfulness. But Angus and his family kept a protection charm outside their house and seemed bent on forcing the dark magic back, so surely they were people Moll could confide in? She thought back to Cinderella Bull’s words: a meeting with strangers in the last village before the land grows fully wild . . . that is where the next part of your quest will start. Perhaps this was what she had meant. Moll’s heart quickened. She knew she had to act fast because the Shadowmasks would be on to them now they knew she was in Glendrummie.

  ‘It involves magic,’ Moll said.

  Angus threw up his hands. ‘Well, of course it blinking well does! A figure slipping a quilt of darkness through bedroom windows at night and people waking up jabbering in fear about a Veil and someone called the Night Spinner!’

  ‘The Night Spinner . . .’ Moll’s voice was barely more than a whisper as she glanced from Domino to Siddy. ‘Do you think he’s one of the last two Shadowmasks?’

  Siddy twisted his flat cap in his hands and looked at Angus. ‘Did – did anyone see the Night Spinner’s face?’

  Angus’s eyes narrowed. ‘Masked, they say.’

  Moll stretched a hand down and felt for Gryff.

  Domino took a deep breath. ‘What else do people say?’

  Angus shifted his weight from one foot to the other. ‘That a masked man comes in the dead of night, riding a veil of darkness. They say it feeds on people’s souls and leaves only fear behind.’

  Morag shook her head. ‘It’s as if something inside each victim dies, as if they’re locked in a dreadful curse. They won’t eat; they barely drink. They’ll be dead in days if we can’t find a cure.’ She paused. ‘And they speak of worse to come – of an eternal darkness that we must all obey when the Night Spinner reaches his full power.’ She looked at her husband. ‘Our guess is that these storms are the start of something much, much worse. Neither the people nor the land are safe . . .’

  Moll’s shoulders crept higher. ‘The last two Shadowmasks are working together,’ she whispered. ‘One commanding the Veil, the other conjuring storms. I’m sure of it.’

  Angus started forward. ‘Shadowmasks? What do you know about all this?’ His voice rose. ‘Tell us!’

  Before Moll could answer, Morag took the twins’ hands and led them down the stairs to stand level with her husba
nd. ‘Come, Angus – this doesn’t sound like it’s going to be talk for the children. They need to eat and if our visitors are here to fight this dark magic, as they say they are, they’ll want warming up with some food, too.’

  Angus puffed out his chest to show that he wasn’t finished with his new guests yet, but Morag pushed past him.

  ‘No need to pretend, Angus dear.’ She hurried to the sink where she wet a cloth, then passed it to Domino to clean the blood from his hand. ‘Once they know you spend your spare time baking scones and playing the church organ, they’ll see through all the bravado.’

  Angus’s ginger eyebrows twitched and the twins giggled, then he walked towards the fire, his kilt swishing crossly around his knees. Before long, flames crackled in the hearth and Moll’s, Siddy’s and Domino’s coats were laid out on the drying rack in front of it. The storm outside had passed and Morag assured the group that her heather charm would protect them from the dark magic for a while longer, but still Moll felt on edge.

  Gryff slunk beneath the rocking chair, licking his bloodied fur clean before biting into the meat Morag tossed him from the larder and, as the twins watched the wildcat, wide-eyed, from beneath the window and Morag busied herself over the stove, Moll, Siddy and Domino sat down around the table with Angus.

  Domino lowered his voice. ‘The Shadowmasks are a group of six witch doctors bent on spreading evil and, from what you say, it sounds as if the final two are behind the Veil and the storms.’ He paused. ‘There was a prophecy years and years ago—’

  ‘The Bone Murmur,’ Angus cut in. ‘I’ve heard talk of it before – from those beyond the North Door.’

  Siddy nodded. ‘It speaks of a girl and a beast fighting back to restore the ways of the old magic.’

  Moll sat up straight. ‘I’m the girl.’

  Angus raised his eyebrows. ‘After the catapult episode, I feared you might be.’ He glanced towards the window. ‘Past the North Door people have always believed in the old magic. Giants in the mountains and selkies by the sea . . . But this side of the door, many people have forgotten all about it. The recent storms have killed crops and flattened houses, and most have put it down to an early winter, but when talk from beyond the North Door reached us – of a dark magic stirring – a few began to believe once again in the Bone Murmur and the need to protect the old magic.’

  Siddy leant forward. ‘You believed, didn’t you? That’s what saved you from the Veil when it came!’

  Angus ran a hand over his hair, then he nodded. ‘Those who ignored the warnings from beyond the Door and refused to believe in the power of the old protection charms awoke after the Night Spinner’s visits as frightened husks. But the storms keep raging and the Night Spinner keeps coming, as if it’s searching for something just out of its reach.’

  Moll swallowed. She knew exactly what the Shadowmasks were looking for . . .

  ‘You say the Veil has the power to hold victims in a curse,’ Domino said slowly. He looked at Moll beside him, then across the table at Siddy. ‘The Shadowmasks trapped their own souls inside the Soul Splinter and used it to spread their evil before, but, now that weapon is gone, perhaps this Veil holds the last two witch doctor souls.’

  Moll looked down. ‘They’ll try and use the Veil to kill me and Gryff. The storms are just a way to hold us here until the Night Spinner comes . . .’

  Domino swung an arm round Moll’s shoulder and held her close. ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you, Moll. I made a promise in the forest, remember?’

  Morag bustled in between their chairs, offering everyone a plate of piping-hot potatoes, vegetables and a lump of something brown and grainy. The twins ran over, hands outstretched for their plates, but Moll eyed her portion nervously.

  Morag rubbed her shoulder. ‘Neeps, tatties and haggis. Proper northern food.’ She sat down at the table with them. ‘So, you say you’re here to fight this dark magic?’

  Moll nodded. ‘We’ve already fought back four Shadowmasks and it sounds like we’re up against this Night Spinner and whoever is conjuring up the storms now . . .’

  ‘How did you get rid of the other Shadowmasks, then?’ Angus asked.

  ‘Amulets,’ Siddy replied, his mouth full of food. ‘We used two of them to help destroy the first four Shadowmasks.’

  Morag looked at Angus. ‘Just like the Bone Murmur foretold . . .’

  Moll nodded. ‘There’s only one amulet left now, but I’m hoping we can use it to kill the last two witch doctors.’

  Angus’s face brightened. ‘Where is the amulet?’

  Domino leant back in his chair. ‘We don’t know. We came north looking for it.’

  ‘Well, what do the amulets look like?’ Morag asked.

  Siddy shifted. ‘The first one was a jewel that contained Moll’s pa’s soul. The second was a giant eagle.’

  ‘It held my ma’s soul and we freed it so that it could pass safely to rest in the Otherworld with my pa’s.’

  ‘So really the amulet could be anything at all?’ Angus said slowly.

  They carried on eating in silence for several minutes, then Gryff emerged from beneath the rocking chair. No one except Moll noticed, but the wildcat’s whiskers were twitching and his eyes were fixed on the front door.

  Moll’s hands stalled over her plate. ‘Gryff’s seen something,’ she whispered.

  The group watched as the wildcat paced across the room and then leapt up on to the windowsill. The twins scurried back behind an armchair and Gryff looked out on to the street, his tail low to the ground. After a few minutes, he turned to Moll and dipped his head.

  Domino stood up. ‘What’s he saying, Moll? Is there danger out there?’

  Moll watched the wildcat intently as he slipped down from the sill and wound his way between her legs.

  ‘No,’ she breathed. ‘But I think he’s seen something important.’

  Angus stood up. ‘I’ll take a look. I’d better see the damage out there anyway. There’ll be folk needing stonework repaired and awnings mended even if they’re too terrorised to know it . . .’

  He walked over to the door and as he pulled it open Moll’s insides stiffened. What if she’d misread Gryff’s signs? What if the final Shadowmasks had already gathered on the road and the Night Spinner had come to finish her and Gryff off once and for all? But as Angus glanced up and down the track he didn’t look alarmed. Instead, he bent down and picked something up and, frowning, turned back into the cottage.

  ‘The track’s churned up, the church spire is in pieces and there’s damage to almost all of the cottages.’ He paused and looked at Moll. ‘But it turns out your wildcat did see something – because there’s also this.’ He held out a rolled-up piece of parchment bound with twine and Moll noticed that it bore her name in green, swirling ink. ‘Looks like someone left something for you after the storm. Someone who knew you’d make your way here.’

  Moll shrank back in her chair. ‘What if it’s from the Shadowmasks? It could be cursed!’

  Siddy raised an eyebrow. ‘If the Shadowmasks want to kill you, Moll, they’re hardly going to write you a note first.’

  Moll took the parchment, turned it over in her hands and then untied the twine. As the paper unfurled, a leaf slotted inside the folds fluttered loose and dropped to the floor. Long and thin with serrated edges, Moll recognised it immediately.

  ‘Willow,’ she murmured. Then she glanced at Siddy. ‘You don’t think . . .’

  Moll’s mind whirled. Could this be a letter from Willow, the Oracle Spirit who had helped them when they were searching for the second amulet? Moll looked down at the dozens of symbols on the parchment – triangles resting on squares and circles filled with stars – laid out as a border around the words. Gryff leant into her legs, willing her on to believe.

  ‘Oracle Bone script,’ Siddy gasped.

  ‘It’s a message from the old magic – from Willow, I think,’ Moll said quietly.

  Domino moved his chair closer to Moll’s. ‘Well, what does i
t say?’

  Moll’s eyes flitted from one line to the next, then she read the words aloud:

  ‘My dear Moll,

  I am sorry that I cannot be with you in person. The Shadowmasks are doing everything in their power to stop the old magic from communicating with you now. But I am sending this letter with the wind spirits in the hope that it reaches you.

  The last two Shadowmasks will not rest until their Veil has broken the people’s spirits and their storms have ravaged the land. Snow and ice will follow the rain soon and, if you fail to stop them, the Shadowmasks will take the sun, ruling over our world in an eternal night.’

  There was a tremble in Moll’s voice now as she thought of Morag’s words about the victims who spoke of the eternal darkness to come, but she carried on reading:

  ‘The next full moon, in just five days, will be the brightest one since the first Guardian threw the Oracle Bones many years ago – and as it sinks a New Order will be born. You must find the last amulet before then. Because, if your quest fails, the sun will not rise again and we will be plunged into the darkness of the Shadowmasks’ reign.

  To find the Amulet of Truth, I know only this: that you must steal the last note of the witches’ song, then take a feather from burning wings and you’ll find what you need one hundred years deep.

  Those are the words the old magic is pressing upon my heart, Moll. So travel boldly and know that I am willing you on every step of the way.

  Your friend,

  Willow x’

  Domino looked from Siddy to Moll and, despite the threats hanging over them, his eyes lit up. ‘We’re in with a chance now.’

  Moll blinked at the words on the parchment. ‘Steal the last note of the witches’ song? Take a feather from burning wings? It doesn’t make any sense.’

  Siddy took the letter and read the clue aloud again, but Domino was looking at Angus. A glance, only a split second long, had passed between the ginger-haired man and his wife, but Domino had seen it.

  ‘You know what Willow’s clue means, don’t you?’ he said to them.