The Night Spinner

by Abi Elphinstone

  The door opened, causing a blinding brightness to shine down, then it shut quietly, blocking out the light, and a handful of figures were left standing on the highest steps: men and women in glowing gowns and even from where Moll stood she could see the swishes of colour sparkling around their eyes and hair as white as snow.

  ‘Oracle Spirits,’ Moll whispered.

  Siddy raised a hand to his mouth and from his pocket Frank squeaked. ‘That’s a door into the Otherworld, isn’t it?’

  A woman with blue and green markings around her eyes and a white fur cape draped over her shoulders broke away from the others and walked down the staircase.

  ‘Willow,’ Moll whispered.

  The Oracle Spirit stepped off the branches into the library and then stood, smiling, amid the rubble of broken stones and scorched books. ‘You have done well, my friends.’

  Moll looked up at the velvet night gathered above the Barbed Peaks. ‘But the sun hasn’t risen. We need to find the last amulet to save the old magic once and for all.’

  Willow stepped forward until she was standing before the lectern that held the Ancient Book.

  ‘The first amulet stood for courage,’ she said, ‘the second for friendship and the third – it stands for hope, for faith in what you cannot see.’ She looked at Moll and Gryff standing side by side, then at Alfie and Siddy behind them, their clothes charred and torn. ‘You kept hoping against all odds – when friends disappeared, when evil swarmed around you, when the darkness pushed you to the brink and you were forced to make unbearable decisions.’ She glanced at Domino sitting on a rock with Aira and then smiled. ‘The hope you clung to made Alfie real and it restored the story of the old magic.’

  She lifted a hand and placed it on the Ancient Book. ‘You will find the amulet on the last page, Moll. It is up to you to set the soul within it free.’

  Moll frowned. ‘It was there in the book all along?’

  Willow nodded. ‘But it was not ready to be set free until now.’

  The Oracle Spirit drew back and Moll stood before the lectern with Gryff by her side, his paws raised up by the book so that he could see too. The key was still in the lock and Moll turned it before lifting the leather cover back. She flicked through the pages and pages of gold-letter script and then, finally, she turned to the last one.

  Moll squinted at the book and then shook her head because there was no writing, just an image: a girl with an olive-skinned face, smeared with smoke and dirt, and, next to her, a striped fur head and two cocked ears. The last page of the Ancient Book was a mirror.

  ‘I – I don’t understand,’ Moll stammered.

  And then she gasped as her own reflection disappeared completely, even though she hadn’t moved, leaving only the wildcat’s head, gazing down with large green eyes.

  ‘Gryff,’ Moll murmured, looking up at Willow. ‘Gryff is the last amulet?’

  Willow’s eyes grew sad. ‘In Kittlerumpit’s tunnels you struck a deal to save the old magic – a feather from burning wings for the last page of your story. The Ancient Book has been your story, Moll. It has been Gryff’s too. But, when he drank from the raven’s skull instead of you to seal the trade with the goblin, Gryff took the bargain in your place and gave the last page of his story, his soul, back to the old magic.’ Willow put a hand on Moll’s shoulder. ‘Gryff was not born of this world, Moll.’

  Moll wriggled free. ‘He was. He’s from the northern wilderness,’ she whispered, staring at Gryff’s reflection in the mirror. ‘The Bone Murmur says so; it talks of a beast from lands full wild.’

  Willow shook her head. ‘It means the Otherworld, Moll. There the land is fully wild and every person has a spirit animal. Your spirit animal was Gryff and you would have met him when your time came to leave this world, but the old magic knew you would need him so it sent him to be by your side early – to protect you and to help you fight back against the Shadowmasks’ magic. Now, though, it is time for Gryff to go home.’

  Moll stared at the image of Gryff. She knew every marking on his face, the way his black stripes curved and then dipped around his eyes and how two more stripes ran up over his head before trailing past his ears. She blinked and a large tear splashed down on to the mirror. And then, because there were no words left to say, she held Gryff tight.

  Moll crouched among the rubble with Gryff and, as she thought back to her time with him, she realised that the truth had been there all along – Moll just hadn’t wanted to see it. Gryff had turned up in the forest the night her parents were killed and only the old magic could have sensed the exact moment she would need him. And then there was the day Moll had encountered Willow for the first time and Gryff had trusted her immediately, as if the wildcat shared a bond with the Oracle Spirit far beyond Moll’s understanding. And the times Gryff had sensed the old magic arriving – Willow’s letter back in Glendrummie and the ospreys who carried the raft – because they came from a world that he belonged to.

  Moll looked down. This had been a journey to set things right for the sake of the old magic, but for Gryff it had also been a journey home. The wildcat burrowed into Moll’s body, purring and pushing against her chest, and they stayed like that for a while, trying to say goodbye.

  ‘You’re free to live your life now, Moll,’ Willow said. ‘Free of the Shadowmasks and their dark magic, but you have to let Gryff go to stop the eternal night.’

  ‘No,’ Moll replied, her voice both frightened and fierce. ‘I might be free, but I won’t be happy. No matter what you say, I can’t be without him. I can’t give Gryff up.’

  Alfie stepped forward. ‘He belongs with Moll. With us.’

  Siddy nodded. ‘We’re a Tribe and we stick together.’

  Domino struggled to his feet, his body hunched in pain. ‘Please, Willow. Leave Gryff with Moll. There must be another way.’

  Moll could feel the wildcat’s heart thudding against her own. Gryff might have had claws instead of fingers and fur instead of skin, but his heart beat to the same rhythm as hers, even though they were from two such different worlds. And Moll could read Gryff’s heart now: it was filled with longing like her own. But not for golden doors perched up high or for worlds where the good went to rest. No. His heart was crying out for her world – for its broken beauty and for the girl who would go to the ends of the earth for the sake of her friends.

  Moll clung tighter and let her tears fall as the hurt came crashing down. Then she stood up suddenly, her eyes burning, and stormed to the foot of the staircase leading into the sky.

  ‘He won’t come!’ she shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘You’ll see. Even if the Otherworld is where he’s from, Gryff won’t leave me!’ she sniffed. ‘Because this was more than just a prophecy to him. And to me. This was everything. The old magic might say he’s the last amulet, but I’ve learnt something about stories since all this began. They don’t start when you’re ready! They don’t go how they’re meant to! And they don’t finish where you’d expect!’ She set her teeth. ‘But, if you hope hard enough, they happen in ways you never thought possible.’

  There was a long, drawn-out silence and then a chorus of voices came down from the door in the sky. ‘There were three Amulets of Truth, three souls waiting to be freed.’

  Moll thought of her beloved parents, somewhere beyond the golden door.

  ‘The first two souls have arrived in the Otherworld,’ the Oracle Spirits said, ‘and a third soul must come to force the eternal night back and fulfil the Bone Murmur.’ There was a pause. ‘But the soul must come freely. The wildcat is not a tame beast and it is up to him to choose his path.’

  Moll looked back at Gryff and dipped her head and he nodded back. Then she walked along the very edge of the room and sat down, her knees hugged up to her chin. She watched as Gryff picked his way through the rubble, pausing for a moment at the foot of the staircase, as if considering something. But Moll knew the wildcat’s heart and she had no doubt that he would come.

  Gryff padded
softly across the edge of the library and sat down next to Moll. And, even though a great mountain of rock and ice slid away beneath them to nothing, Moll was not afraid – because she and her wildcat sat together, against the wind and the world and all the odds.

  To Moll’s surprise, it was not Willow or the Oracle Spirits who spoke next. It was Domino. Clutching his side, he limped over to Willow and whispered something in her ear. The Oracle Spirit nodded and smiled at Gryff, and Alfie and Siddy, with Frank still in his pocket, hurried over to Moll and threw their arms round her – because it was clear that Gryff was here to stay.

  Willow walked towards them with Domino leaning up against her side and Aira holding his other arm, her head bowed low. The Oracle Spirit paused before the staircase and Moll stood up. She looked at Domino and saw the stain of red now streaked down his side.

  ‘It’s more than just a scratch, isn’t it?’ she said in a cracked whisper. Domino nodded, wincing as he took a breath, and Moll hastened over to him and clasped his hands.

  ‘The deal I forged with Kittlerumpit . . .’ Domino’s voice was torn with pain and sadness. ‘I traded an early ending for a cure to save those the Veil had poisoned. It bought me time to come after you, Moll, to show you that I’d never let you down. But it is time now. The Oracle Spirits have said a third soul must depart to force the eternal night back and that soul must come freely.’

  Moll glanced at Gryff and shook her head. ‘But—’

  Domino smiled. ‘Even if Gryff had gone back with Willow, I couldn’t have stayed in this world, Moll.’ He glanced down at his side. ‘This is a wound too deep for earthly cures.’ His eyes filled with tears. ‘I fought as hard as I could – for the old magic, for you and for my ma and pa – to make them proud.’ He slumped down on to the staircase and Aira tried to prop him up, but he pressed her hand and then shook his head. ‘Let me alone now. Just me and Moll.’

  Moll leant into Domino as he wrapped his arms round her. ‘You’ve always been a little sister to me, Moll. You know that, don’t you?’

  Moll swallowed again and again to fight her tears.

  ‘Let them come,’ Domino said. ‘It’s all right to be upset.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘But remember that at the end of these stairs there’s a world without pain, a place where I am not afeared to go.’

  ‘What – what will you do there?’ Moll sobbed.

  Domino’s voice was breaking now. ‘I will run with wild horses. I will stand tall on the highest mountains. And I will swim beneath thundering waterfalls.’

  Moll closed her eyes and tried to think of Domino beyond the golden door – strong and smiling and full of life.

  ‘Sometimes people leave us halfway through the journey,’ Domino said and Moll sniffed as she remembered those had been Oak’s words to her when Alfie vanished. ‘But no one leaves for good.’ He held her hand in his. ‘Look after my ma and pa, Moll. They love you as fiercely as they would if you were their own blood.’

  Moll’s voice was nothing more than a whisper in his ear. ‘I’ll be seeing you,’ she said. ‘I know I will.’

  And Domino nodded. Because Moll was someone who kept her promises. He looked up at Willow and dipped his head. ‘I’m ready now.’

  The Oracle Spirit dipped her head and then, very carefully, she helped Domino to his feet. Together, they walked slowly up the steps as Moll and her Tribe watched with Aira from the foot of the staircase, their faces wet with tears. Up and up they climbed, Domino’s body stooped and weak, but, as they went, the sky around them began to change.

  And, from behind the furthest mountain peaks, the sunrise pushed through the night, a wash of pink and orange and yellow burning through the dark. A dazzling sun burst over the horizon, scattering the mountains in light, and Moll watched as the Oracle Spirits opened the golden door to the world that held her parents. Then Domino walked inside and Moll stood with her friends, looking into the brightness of dawn.

  The giants arrived at the Rookery shortly after sunrise, whooping and cheering as they bounded over the mountains. Moll and her friends watched from the edge of the library as they gathered before the crumbled wall, then the Ancient Ones opened up their rocky palms to reveal a bundle of tartan kilts and ginger beards.

  Wallop winked. ‘Found some smidglings out on the Barbed Peaks who wanted to see you.’

  ‘My Highland Watch!’ Aira cried as the men stood up on the giants’ fingers, raised their crossbows and roared. ‘And – and Angus, Morag and the twins too! You all came after us!’

  The twins held on to their parents’ hands and grinned, then Petal stepped forward, the icicles in her hair jangling. She extended her enormous fingers and Moll and Siddy’s faces broke into wide smiles – because inside Petal’s palm was a boy with milk-white hair and jet-black eyes.

  ‘Bruce!’ Moll cried. ‘What on earth are you doing here? You should be with your family!’

  Bruce clung on to Petal’s finger, then waved a shaky hand. ‘I wanted to say swell bum to my friends!’ He shook his head. ‘I mean, WELL DONE!’

  Siddy laughed. ‘You are, without doubt, the best selkie we’ve ever met, Bruce – and now you get to meet Alfie too!’

  Wallop cleared his throat. ‘We’ll have time for introductions later, but right now we have a journey ahead of us.’

  Siddy’s shoulders slumped. ‘Not more Shadowmasks? Not another prophecy? Or maybe it’s a second kraken or some leftover witches?’

  ‘There’s probably worse still to come,’ an elderly voice from another giant’s palm chirped. ‘Trolls, warlocks, that kind of thing . . .’

  ‘Murk!’ Moll laughed. ‘Even you’ve come!’

  Wallop grinned. ‘The dark magic is behind us now, but there’s a celebration waiting to take place, down on the heath beside Tanglefern Forest, and, unless the wind spirits I sent have strayed, there are rather a lot of people hoping to welcome you all home.’

  Petal huffed impatiently. ‘Can I eat the selkie smidgling before we set off? I’m starving!’

  ‘I will not have you munching on the guests, Petal,’ Wallop growled. ‘All the smidglings here are invited to the celebration and we will carry, not devour, them to the heath. Then, when the celebrations are over, we will make our way north again, dropping loch monsters, selkies, Highland Watch and Glendrummie villagers at their homes along the way.’

  Moments later, Moll and her Tribe were scooped up into Wallop’s great hand and the Ancient Ones lumbered over the Barbed Peaks, carrying their wards safely in their fists. And it was only then that Moll finally took it all in: they were going home – and they were going home with Alfie.

  The Tribe had a lot to catch up on as they talked inside the giant’s palm, but mostly they spoke of Domino and of what they would do back in their camp to remember him. On and on the giants ran and anyone who happened to stroll along the west coast of the land that day spoke of strange rumbles in the ground and enormous moving stones, but few believed these tales when they were shared, such is the way of magic glimpsed by those who do not properly understand. Even those who had witnessed the Veil’s darkness wiped the events from their minds, but the people who believed in the old magic remembered and they knew that there was a deeper wonder buried in their land than what first met the eye.

  Eventually the giants slowed and Moll peeked out between the cracks in Wallop’s fingers to see a brilliant blue sky and a midday sun shining down on a wide expanse of gorse, heather and bracken. They had reached the heath and beyond it she could see the autumn leaves of the beeches, elms and oaks. Tanglefern Forest. They were home at last. And, when Wallop set Moll down, her feet barely touched the ground as she raced over the bracken, and rushed round the gorse bushes, into the arms of Oak and Mooshie.

  All the gypsies from Oak’s camp had come – Cinderella Bull wrapped in her gold-penny shawl, Hard-Times Bob with his pipe and accordion, Siddy’s ma and all her purple petticoats – and there were others, too, friends whom Moll had not expected to see again. Willow, now bright and
clear with a voice as strong as the wildest wind, was speaking with Puddle, the lighthouse keeper who had sheltered them from the smugglers! And little Scrap, Barbarous Grudge’s daughter who had led the Tribe to the second amulet and who now lived with Puddle, was rushing between the giants’ legs to see her friends again! Even Hermit, as terrified as ever, and Porridge the Second, as miserable as ever, had been brought along for the occasion.

  There were tears in the hours that followed, but there was laughter, too, and those who passed the heath that afternoon would have seen eleven large plinths of stone rising up in a circle and might have assumed that the rocks were an ancient landmark that they had missed before, but inside the ring of giants there was a celebration going on.

  It was only when the sun set that the giants called for quiet. The gypsies and all the friends the Tribe had made along their journey sat on the ground and in the middle of the circle, on top of a tree stump, lay the Ancient Book, its golden story glittering in the light of candles that the gypsies held. Nobody spoke. Only a nightjar cried, somewhere out on the heath, then, into this stillness, the Ancient Ones began to sing – a low, lilting tune that Moll imagined rivers might make if they could speak.

  ‘Arise young girl and close the book

  The story is told and victory took.

  Fire the arrow and the key

  Into the night as we bow to thee.’

  Wallop looked across at Moll and nodded. And, with the giants’ song still ringing in her ears, Moll stood up from her place between Alfie and Siddy and, together with Gryff, she walked towards the Ancient Book. As Wallop had instructed her, she reached over and heaved the book shut before looking down at Gryff who dipped his head towards the key hanging on a string around her neck. Moll slotted the key into the padlock and turned it until it clicked, then Alfie stood up with the Oracle Arrow in his hands and Siddy came forward, clutching Moll’s bow. The boys walked out quietly into the clearing, then they helped Moll bind the key to the side of the arrow by winding the piano string round and round it and then tying it in a knot. Then Moll set the arrow to her bow and pulled back.