The Night Spinner

by Abi Elphinstone

  Another bottle on the shelves tipped over and broke, a spool of red liquid disappearing as Moll’s voice rose into a shout and her steps quickened.

  ‘You burned our camp to the ground in Tanglefern Forest and sent storms to flatten the homes of the people in the north! But I won’t give in!’ she cried. ‘I won’t sit back and let you rip this world apart,’ Gryff leapt up on to the table and hissed, ‘and all those who fight on the side of the old magic with me won’t either! Because they’ve been with me the whole way, making sure you won’t win! Mellantha helped me unravel the first bone reading though it cost her her life. Cinderella Bull called upon the sea spirits to protect us in Little Hollows. Oak guided me from the beginning and nearly died from a dark magic curse! Mooshie kept us all safe in the forest and in the cove! Scrap led the Tribe to the second amulet despite the smugglers out to kill her! Puddle hid us from the Shadowmasks in his lighthouse!’

  More and more bottles toppled from the shelves and clattered to the floor, their colourful liquid melting into the air. But Moll wasn’t finished yet.

  ‘Domino led us north!’ she roared. ‘Angus took us in while the storm raged in Glendrummie! Aira helped me in Kittlerumpit’s tunnels! Siddy and Gryff have been there with me every step of the way! And Alfie, my Alfie, who you want me to give up on, destroyed the Soul Splinter even though it meant he might die! Me, Sid, Gryff and Alfie – we’ve fought past tree ghouls and wolves! We’ve sent arrows into cursed eels and we’ve brought down four Shadowmasks already!’

  Orbrot drew breath to speak, but Moll was practically running around her now, loosening a little more of the piano string with every stride, her voice growing in strength and volume as she ran.

  ‘We beat vapours and Alterskins! We outwitted mer ghosts and marsh spirits! And the only reason we did any of that was because we didn’t give up! We kept on hoping!’

  A whole row of bottles on a shelf to Moll’s right shattered into tiny pieces and the liquid inside them fizzled away. Orbrot shifted her weight and the cobwebs around her face stiffened. Then Moll stopped in front of her, face flushed and breath ragged.

  The Shadowmask folded her arms. ‘Quite finished?’

  Moll spat. ‘I’m not even getting started.’

  She yanked hard and the piano string she’d wound round Orbrot tightened suddenly, snatching in her robes and sending the witch doctor crashing to the ground.

  ‘That’s for Alfie,’ she hissed, ‘because you’re wrong about him and, no matter what you say, I’m going to find my friend and make him real.’

  Hundreds of bottles burst apart on the shelves and the room sang with the sound of smashing glass. Moll tossed the string she was holding to Gryff who caught it in his mouth, then pounced on Orbrot and held her still.

  ‘Those are my hopes and dreams you’ve stolen! Mine!’ Moll yelled, seizing her bow from the ground. ‘And I’m going to take them back.’

  More and more bottles toppled to the floor, but Moll wasn’t just going to wait for them to break apart. She pulled back on her arrow until the string was taut, then she thought of her impossible dream, took aim at the shelves on the right-hand side of the room and fired. The arrow careered into the bottles, and the Oracle Spirit ballooned out the whole length of the room, sending fragments of glass sprawling across the flagstones. Moll fired another arrow into the shelves on her left and it ripped through them – and as the liquid inside disappeared Moll felt something familiar burn in her soul. It was the fight that Aira had seen, the unconquerable toughness that Moll knew after seeing Alfie just a moment ago could never be beaten. She whirled round to face Orbrot.

  ‘Get your cat off me!’ the witch doctor howled.

  Moll dipped her head at Gryff who leapt off the Shadowmask’s chest and padded over to Moll’s side, the piano string still gripped between his teeth. Moll slotted another arrow to her bow, glanced briefly down to Gryff, then she pointed her weapon straight at the Shadowmask.

  ‘Gryff’s not a cat,’ she muttered. ‘He’s a wildcat.’

  The arrow shot out and the Oracle Spirit billowed round the witch doctor. But, as Orbrot’s body crumpled into a heap of matted cobwebs and dead spiders, her voice threaded through the room: ‘You think you’ve defeated me, but my castle is filled with enchantments that will trap you here until the Night Spinner comes.’ Her words were thin and hoarse, growing weaker and weaker with every word. ‘And when the last Shadowmask arrives he will bring such deadly curses that you will abandon your impossible dream once and for all before the Veil swallows you in its darkness.’

  With the last of Orbrot’s words, the room fell silent, a tomb of broken glass and cobwebs. Moll looked towards the balcony and noticed for the first time that Bruce had vanished, but she and Gryff had other things on their minds. The wildcat dropped the piano string at Moll’s feet and, while Moll wound it up and pocketed it, Gryff jumped up on to the table. He bounded down it before soaring up into the chandelier and ripping at the cobwebs with his teeth and claws as he tried to free Siddy.

  Moll hoisted herself up on to the table and ran towards the chandelier as Siddy squeezed his body between the antlers of the cage. And then they were all there together: a wildcat pressed between two hugging friends who had tears coursing down their cheeks.

  Moll, Siddy and Gryff sat on the table beneath the chandelier and for a moment they were just glad to be together.

  ‘I didn’t mean to leave you on the moors, Sid,’ Moll said. ‘I rushed on because I wanted to find Angus’ sister and the amulet, but I should’ve waited. I never should have left you.’

  Siddy dusted the cobwebs off his flat cap. ‘My fault for trying to make friends with a highland cow; I was talking to one, then I turned round and you were gone.’

  Moll smiled. ‘And you know I didn’t mean what I said back in the Clattering Gorge, don’t you?’

  Siddy nodded. ‘A few cross words don’t mean a friendship’s over.’

  Moll glanced at Gryff, then back to Siddy. ‘Our friendship – the three of us – it’s stronger than iron, Sid. If we tried to smash it with a hammer, it wouldn’t break. It wouldn’t crumble. It’s that strong.’

  Siddy nodded again. ‘You’re right.’ He paused. ‘But being stranded on the moors, swept away by wind spirits cursed to do a Shadowmask’s commands, then locked in a dungeon before being bound up in cobwebs and shoved inside a chandelier – that’s an experience I’d rather not repeat if we can help it . . .’

  Moll laughed, then her words rushed out as she told Siddy about everything that had happened since they’d parted and of her visions of Alfie and her firm belief that he was still alive.

  ‘I let you out of my sight and you’re off making deals with goblins?’ Siddy cried.

  Moll squared her shoulders. ‘I gave him a nosebleed right afterwards.’

  Siddy rolled his eyes. ‘Where’s the golden feather now? Because we’ll need all the help we can get to make it past Orbrot’s enchantments and escape before the Night Spinner comes.’

  Moll picked at her coat. ‘Orbrot’s wretched servant, Bruce, stole it.’

  Siddy’s face darkened. ‘He was the one who brought me meals when I was locked in the dungeon. Whenever Orbrot was around, Bruce was horrid to me: kicking over my food, pinching me when I was fast asleep – he even cut up my bow and arrows and burned them!’

  Moll felt a rush of anger towards Bruce at the way he had treated her friend.

  ‘But one night I heard him crying outside my cell door and cursing Orbrot’s name,’ Siddy continued. ‘I don’t think he wants to be here either, but somehow he’s under the dark magic’s power. Bruce is just a rotten coward really. We’ll get the feather back from him before the Night Spinner comes—’

  ‘—and the eternal night rises,’ Moll finished. ‘What do you think it is about Alfie or my hope in him that the Shadowmasks need so much?’

  Siddy shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but staying in this castle a moment more than we need to isn’t going to help us sol
ve that puzzle.’

  Moll looked over her shoulder towards the staircase she’d come up earlier, but to her surprise it was no longer there. Just a wall of stone looked blankly back at her.

  ‘The staircase has vanished!’ she spluttered.

  ‘This castle’s got a mind of its own,’ Siddy replied, sliding off the table. ‘Orbrot treated it like a living thing – always stroking the walls and whispering into corners.’ He shuddered and pointed to the door up on the balcony. ‘Bruce must have left that way. Come on, let’s go after him.’

  They walked towards the staircase leading up to the balcony, but Moll stopped Siddy just before it, her eyes narrow. ‘Your ears are wiggling,’ she said. ‘You’re keeping a secret from me, aren’t you?’

  Siddy reddened, then he glanced down at his coat pocket and Moll noticed that there was something moving inside it.

  ‘I – I was going to tell you after we’d escaped . . . because he can be a bit overwhelming when you first meet him.’

  ‘Who can?’ Moll said slowly.

  A burst of dark brown fur shot out of Siddy’s pocket and an animal with a long, thin body and a twitching pink nose began leaping up and down the stairs in a series of strange hops and sideways jumps.

  ‘A ferret?’ Moll cried. ‘What on earth are you doing with a ferret, Sid?’

  Gryff licked his lips and stalked towards the stairs and Siddy hastily positioned himself between the wildcat and his new pet.

  ‘I found him skulking around the dungeons; I think he must have crept in, looking for food.’

  The ferret careered into the back of a step, then let out a soft clucking noise before repeating his hops and jumps.

  Moll raised her eyebrows. ‘What is he doing?’

  ‘For some reason, Frank dances when he’s feeling enthusiastic,’ Siddy replied, looking a bit sheepish.

  Moll watched the ferret’s little legs scampering back and forth. His black eyes gleamed in delight at the attention and Moll threw her hands up. ‘At least Porridge the Second and Hermit were quiet and didn’t make a fuss when they tagged along. But this—’

  Frank shot out a leg, then shimmied to the right.

  ‘—this is going to be exhausting!’

  Siddy watched his ferret dance. ‘No more exhausting than spending time with you.’

  Moll scowled.

  ‘Cheer up,’ Siddy added. ‘I could’ve ended up with a highland cow.’ He stooped to pick up Frank who snuggled against his cheek before diving back into Siddy’s pocket until just his tail flopped out, wagging back and forth like an excited dog’s.

  ‘Fine,’ Moll said, following them up the stairs. ‘But, just so you know, Frank’s a girl.’

  Siddy dug his hand into his pocket, lifted the ferret upside down and gasped. ‘You’re a girl, Frank!’

  Frank curled herself into a ball and licked Siddy’s hand.

  He smiled. ‘Isn’t it great how well Frank takes to change? You could learn a lot from him, Moll.’ He paused. ‘Her.’

  Done with chatting about ferrets, Moll pushed past Siddy on to the balcony. She opened the door that led off left and then staggered backwards, clutching at the walls.

  ‘Sid,’ she whispered. ‘Look . . .’

  Ahead of them were thirteen stone steps, each one half a metre long and wide, floating in the air. They spread out towards a huge wall opposite and then they stopped at a stone platform before a door framed by two large torches. Moll peered down and felt suddenly sick. Far below them, maybe thirty metres beneath, was a pit scattered with bones, only just visible through the layers of cobwebs that laced the space between the two walls.

  Siddy gulped. ‘This is the only way on, isn’t it?’

  Moll scrunched her hands into fists. ‘I think so. And we’ve got to move fast with the Night Spinner on our trail.’

  Frank stuck her head out of Siddy’s pocket and gave an excited squeak at the challenge that lay before them. Moll shot the ferret a withering look, but then her attention shifted to Gryff. He had lifted a tentative paw towards the first stone.

  ‘Be careful,’ Moll whispered.

  The wildcat laid his foot on the step, but the moment he did so the stone wobbled beneath him. Gryff snatched his weight back and watched as the step dropped silently from the air and then landed with a smash, seconds later, on the floor below.

  Moll slid a look at Siddy. ‘There must be a way across. It’s the only direction Bruce could’ve gone!’

  Siddy pointed. ‘Look, Moll. There are letters on the slabs.’

  Moll squinted into the gloom and saw that each of the twelve remaining steps bore a letter.

  She said them aloud in a half-whisper: ‘O. K. R. S. B. P. R. F. O. C. D. T. That’s not even a word!’

  Siddy’s eyes darted back and forth between the letters, then Frank wriggled from his pocket and leapt out past the gap where the first stone had been before landing on the slab marked ‘O’.

  ‘No!’ Siddy cried, palms raised to his mouth.

  But the stone held Frank’s weight. The ferret tapped her claws on the slab before wiggling her tail and jumping on to the next step. This time she wasn’t so lucky though, and, as the stone wobbled beneath her then fell away, Siddy and Moll shrieked. In the nick of time, Frank hopped to the next stone, and again it held her weight.

  ‘Every second stone,’ Moll said slowly, trying to find the pattern. ‘Perhaps you can only step on those ones if you want to make your way across.’

  ‘But why do the slabs have different letters on them?’ Siddy asked.

  Moll shook her head. ‘We haven’t got time to think on it, Sid; we need to keep moving.’

  She blew out through narrowed lips and tried to keep her eyes on the stones, instead of the terrifying drop beneath, then she followed Frank’s path, leaping on to the step marked ‘O’. It held her weight and Moll focused on her balance, her palms tickling with nerves, before jumping on to the third step. She scooped up Frank, then glanced down and felt her stomach swing. The floor far below seemed to rise up beneath her and the walls felt as if they were swaying. Swallowing back her fear and clutching Frank tightly, Moll braced herself to follow the pattern, jumping to the fifth step, then the seventh and ninth – each holding her and Frank’s weight.

  ‘Every second stone – it is the pattern!’ Moll called back to Gryff and Siddy. ‘Come on!’

  Tentatively, Gryff jumped across the stones in Moll’s path and Siddy followed a few steps behind.

  Moll turned to the stones ahead of her and, as she landed on the eleventh step, the slab began to wobble and her blood ran cold.

  ‘No!’ she screamed.

  But the step tumbled away beneath her.

  Frank shot out of Moll’s hands and soared over the last stone on to the platform, but Moll was already falling. In desperation, she flung out her hands to grab hold of the twelfth step and, with her heart thudding in her throat, she clung to the stone with white fingertips.

  ‘Hold on!’ Siddy cried.

  Moll’s body rocked in the air as she wrestled for a stronger hold. ‘Quick, Sid! Help me!’

  But it was Gryff who came to the rescue first, landing just beyond her fingers on the stone she held on to. He placed his paws on Moll’s hands and she bit her lip as she felt his claws digging into her skin. The wildcat winced at the pain he saw he was causing; if he held on much longer, he’d draw blood from Moll’s hands.

  ‘I’m coming!’ Siddy shouted from behind her. ‘But there’s not enough space for me and Gryff on the stone! He’ll have to jump back on to the platform before the door so that I can jump on to your stone and pull you up!’

  Moll blinked at Gryff and her words came in a rasp. ‘Go back,’ she said.

  The wildcat whimpered for a moment, unwilling to leave Moll hanging so precariously. But then he glanced at the platform behind him, where Frank was, and sprang on to it, leaving Moll dangling from the slab. Moll gripped tighter, her arms burning under the strain, then Siddy landed on the stone
she clung to and hauled at Moll’s shoulders until she could drag her own body on to the step. Siddy jumped back to the platform to join Frank and Gryff while Moll, heart thundering, clambered on to the slab.

  Then she leapt on to the platform with the others and watched in horror as the second, fourth, sixth, eighth and tenth steps fell away and the torches shone upon the remaining letters inscribed into the stones: O. R. B. R. O. T.

  ‘It’s obvious when you see the letters without the other slabs,’ Moll panted. ‘The only stones we could stand on were the ones that spelt out Orbrot’s name – every second one, to start with, and then a change at the end—’

  ‘—to keep us on our toes,’ Siddy finished, holding his cap with shaking hands. ‘I thought you were a goner, Moll. I never thought that stone would hold us both.’

  Moll ran a bruised hand over Gryff’s ears. ‘When we get back to Tanglefern Forest, I’m going to make you and Gryff a Tribe medal for that rescue.’

  Frank sniffed the large wooden door behind them, then squeaked.

  Siddy picked himself up and, tucking the ferret back into his coat pocket, he took a deep breath. ‘I wonder what Orbrot’s got in store for us next . . .’

  Moll turned the handle, expecting the door to be firmly locked, but it opened.

  ‘Good start,’ Siddy said, rubbing his hands.

  But Moll’s eyes were wary. ‘I prefer doors you have to smash down. Ones that open for you always lead to badness.’

  They all edged inside and found themselves in a small, office-like room. A threadbare rug lined the floor and against the far wall there was a mahogany desk. On it was a lamp, still lit, and an empty bottle, like the ones that had lined the shelves in the room before. Cobwebs clung to everything. They draped over the desk, twisted round the chair and hung like a veil over the glass cabinets behind.

  ‘Looks like Orbrot’s study,’ Moll said.

  Siddy nodded. ‘And I reckon she was planning to lock your impossible dream inside that bottle.’