Borrowed Moonlight

by Helen Slavin

  “Flee.” Emz breathed the word at him. Charlie felt that twist in the air once more, like a struggle for breath, and with a crack of twigs, Borrower was gone.

  Anna, Charlie, and Emz looped back to Cob Cottage via the bounds their grandmother had set for Borrower, their thoughts weaving the repairs, picking up the magic Hettie had put down.

  “You were scary,” Anna said. Emz laughed.

  “I was scared,” she replied.

  “But we did it,” Charlie sighed. “We managed it.” There was a lightness to their mood. “Now we’ve just got to sort out the Horse.” There was a new energy in their footsteps.

  “Interesting that he couldn’t borrow the Great Grey, and we know he tried,” Anna mused.

  “Yeh, it’s a bit like a cat trying to catch a badger. Give it a go, but ultimately…” Charlie said. She could feel where their mutual fear of the Wood dissipated like smoke. Anna smiled.

  “I’ve had a mad thought.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice.

  “Well, the bar isn’t set very high on that one,” Charlie teased.

  “Spill,” Emz encouraged.

  “Remember when it thundered? Grandma Hettie always said it was the Night Horses galloping to Havoc.” There was laughter from Charlie and Emz at the recollection.

  “I haven’t thought about that in forever,” Emz said. “You think the Great Grey is a Night Horse?”

  Anna shrugged.

  “Who knows?”

  “Anything is possible. We live in Havoc Wood,” Charlie said.

  “It’s still waiting.” Anna grew a little more serious.

  “Is it waiting for Dad?” Emz asked, and this thought sobered them. Charlie shook her head, a sour look on her face.

  “Don’t get your hopes up.” And she picked up her pace, pulled ahead on the path, and did not look back. They returned to Cob Cottage in silence.

  51

  Aftershocks

  Emz had accepted the lift from Charlie simply to spend time with her. After their recent adventures, she’d thought Charlie might need company, but, on the journey, Charlie was silent, dropping her at the school gates with a simple “see you” of farewell. Emz had seen how Charlie was after Aron’s betrayal and seen her reaction to Borrower. It made her uneasy that there was nothing more heart-searching to be said.

  She had been focused on Charlie and forgotten about Logan Boyle. She glimpsed him now, heading around the side of the school towards the yard and the entrance to the sixth form block.

  His drinks can was dropping out of the vending machine as she passed. There was no one else around and, as he had already glanced her way, Emz braced herself for his speaking to her. She did not brace herself for him blanking her.

  He moved quickly past her, down the stairs, leaving his can in the bottom of the machine. Emz looked at it, looked at the stairs, and her unease quadrupled. By the time she reached her Maths lesson, only to watch Logan leave as she entered, it had increased to the power ten.

  She watched him leave the common room when she entered, dodging by her as if she did not exist. She watched him make a detour away from the Science corridor as she strolled up towards her Environmental Sciences lesson. She watched through the lab window as he walked the long way round to Physics.

  He spoke with others, so she understood it was not a universal situation. She witnessed a brief smile here. A laugh there. Nothing approaching his normal interaction with fellow students, but it was obvious that everyone was rewriting and erasing the lies and rumours of recent history.

  She understood that she, too, was being rewritten and erased. It was like being stabbed in the heart with a pencil; a thin, pointed object being pressed hard into her chest, until she could not breathe.

  When she could not breathe, there was only one place to go. So she went there.

  The Land Rover was parked up, but there was no sign of Winn. Emz busied herself with as many trivial tasks as possible in order to block thoughts of Logan. She headed outside to refill the bird feeders and let her mind drift.

  It ran, on small hooves through the trees, and she looked up. What was that about? She brought her mind back to the business of the bird feeders, but it twitched at the edges. She let it go once more, following the deer in her mind until she saw that it was running to the narrow cut in the rock at Hare’s Ell. She tugged at it, made it turn back, and, as she did so, was aware of an ember path, fading to cinders.

  She pulled the deer towards Leap Woods.

  All that had happened, the great torrent of events since Grandma Hettie’s death, washed over Emz, and she shuddered a little.

  The woods were bare and beautiful. Emz looked up to the bronze and lemon tones of the left leaves, the sky winter-grey above. Her breath clouded into the air. She was on the edge of something; she felt it keenly. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid. Would she fall?

  As she thought it, the jackdaws rose in a great chattering flurry around her.

  Fly.

  Winn was on the phone, signalling like mad for Emz to hurry back along the path. As she entered the education centre, she could hear that it was Mrs Dalrymple on the mobile and there was a problem.

  Mrs Dalrymple was old school, a map reader and nature lover, and so the coordinates for their location were very precise. As Emz and Winn jumped into the Land Rover, Carrie was already on her way from the other direction at Willowhip, where she’d been on a call out at White Houses farm.

  The wound was vicious, the leg bone exposed, the tawny fur spattered crimson. As the women gathered around, Emz felt the charcoal begin to heat within her. Charlie, she knew, would be able to pick up the tracks of both the fox and whoever had laid this snare. Anna could, most likely, reach into the fox and flick through the book of its memory, which might not be useful in snaring the poacher, but she could perhaps read something in the snares’ wires. The fingerprints left there could give up their owner. Emz reached in with cutters to snip the wire free as Carrie cleaned and stitched. The fox, wild with fear and pain, settled at a touch from Emz, and as her fingers brushed at the fur, she thought of the fingerprints she was leaving on the fox, if she might dream as it dreamt, run where it ran. She let the thoughts of the running deer and Havoc Wood smother the fox’s pain and sense of danger. It barked, growled low, allowed Emz and only Emz to pick it up, patched, and put it into the dog bed in the back of Winn’s Land Rover.

  Mrs Dalrymple was livid about the incident and speculated on the identity of the culprit.

  “We’ll find him,” Emz stated the fact. Mrs Dalrymple looked taken aback.

  “You’ll liaise with the Wildlife Officer in Castlebury?” she asked. “I’ve already spoken to him about the threat to the badgers at Willowhip, and he’s not interested.”

  “She’s a Gamekeeper,” Carrie said, as Emz and Winn prepared to head off. “In Havoc Wood.”

  There was just a glimmer from Isobel Dalrymple. She nodded.

  “Knew your grandmother. Lovely woman.” Isobel and her rambling companions headed off. Carrie rummaged in her bag and handed over a phial of antibiotics.

  “I’ve got more back at HQ,” she said. “I can drop them in later on my way home.”

  It was an hour later, the fox settled and sleeping in the infirmary, and Emz was standing at the back door looking out into the encroaching evening. Carrie was strolling up the path, hands deep in pockets, a tired trudge to her step.

  “Hey, how’s our patient?” She stepped inside, put the medication on the worktop.

  “Settled in,” Emz said. “What do we owe you?”

  “Nothing. On the house. The batch is almost out of date. I’d have to toss them from the surgery, so consider it a charitable donation,” Carrie said. “I don’t think the date stamps will bother the fox.” She gave a vast sigh.

  “Thank you, Carrie.” Winn came in from shutting up the education centre. “It is very much appreciated.”

  “Good. Good. Right.” Carrie was definitely out of sorts. Emz peeked at her r
eal face, saw distress and anxiety.

  “What’s going on with you?” Emz asked as Winn put the kettle on and Carrie made no move to leave.

  “Oh, the usual.” Carrie shrugged deeper into her waterproof.

  “How’s your equine project shaping up?” Winn asked. “I hear you ruffled Marlow Whitburn’s feathers…”

  “Oh, don’t talk about Marlow. Anyway, that’s the least of my worries. We’ve been told the surgery building has been sold, and we’ve got to find new premises.” Emz felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, and Winn took in a small breath. “I don’t know, one minute you feel you’ve got all your ducks in a row, next thing, someone’s shooting at them.”

  Winn offered the last piece of fruitcake. Carrie took it.

  “I’m having a pizza and a glass of wine when I get home.” She munched at the cake. Emz’s gaze met Winn’s.

  “Erm.” Winn was flustered. “Erm, Carrie… I… erm…”

  Carrie looked up.

  “Lush cake, Winn.”

  “Yes. Thank you. Care to come and take a look round Hartfield tomorrow?” she blurted out. Carrie stopped munching for a second. She swallowed hard.

  “Sorry?”

  “Would you care to look round Hartfield tomorrow,” Winn asked. “There is a range of outbuildings, land attached. If you…”

  Carrie’s eyes had widened, and for a second Emz thought she might be choking on a sultana. Her mind was ticking.

  “Seriously?”

  Winn nodded. Seriously.

  “I’ve had a set to with the Wildwood Society, so I’ve lost some funding.”

  “Oh my God, oh my God, why didn’t I think of it before?”

  “Well, you know, have a look around first and see what you…”

  “Oh! You do weddings. We could do the carriages.” Carrie was already making plans. “With my sister. Oh, yes. Yes. Why don’t we go now?” Carrie put down the last of the cake and hugged Winn. “Oh, thank you. Thanks so much, Winn.”

  As they headed off towards Hartfield, Emz, feeling the wire of the snare curled into her pocket, headed home.

  In the gathering twilight, Anna turned the snare wire in her hand.

  “Pockets. Dirty pockets,” she said, and passed the coil of wire to Charlie.

  “Weed. Rollups. Extra strong mints,” Charlie contributed. They were poised, at the edge of Havoc and Leap Woods. Emz nodded, and they Reached.

  It was a breath or two more before the trail, greasy and rubbery, lit up. Emz Reaching for it first, taking the thoughts of pain from the fox and placing them into the landscape like a beacon.

  “This way.” Charlie was striding forward. Owls watched. Badgers in their setts listened to them pass overhead.

  The Gamekeepers were after someone.

  Pin Winstanley was about to drink his pint. He was rolling up a little spliff for later. He usually stopped off at the Towler Inn at Castle Hill, most often when he’d been out in Leap Woods setting his traps. It was usually quiet, with no TV on, and tonight the only music was that mandolin and fiddle couple from Knightstone who were quite good. He’d have a quick pint and then back to his boat, moored up on the Wisheart Navigation.

  Three women entered, bringing the chill of the late November night with them. They looked stuck up, so he was surprised that, after a glance around the place, they came to sit at his table.

  Well, stand at his table, glaring at him.

  “Did you shove that table at him?” Anna asked Charlie as they cut down to Cob Cottage from the edge of Castle Hill. The stars were out, and the air was fresh and bright tasting.

  “Yep.” Charlie hiked onwards, leading.

  “How though?” Emz asked. It had been impressive the way the round top pinned him back into the seating. It had been discreet, too, only Pin Winstanley and the sisters witnessing the trick.

  “Not sure. Works with wood. Got to be wood I think.” Charlie’s face tensed a little at a memory of doors and frames and a poker table.

  Anna gave a chuckle; small, but perfectly formed.

  52

  Emergency Lighting

  The skip lorry pulled out of Half-Built House loaded with the remnants of Vanessa Way’s possessions. Some people considered a good clear-out to be cathartic; not Vanessa. That night she sat on the reclining couch in front of the window and watched the shadows and light dance across the floor. The intricate filigree drew her gaze no matter how she fought. She was pinned into the lounger, unable to take a step off, lifting her feet up under her body and remaining watchful.

  The house felt cold in its bones. The ice, Vanessa noted, crystallised on the inside. She reached up to the patterns, and, as she did, she saw the map, the paths of it spiralling towards her, carrying threat.

  Beneath her the floor altered, blown by a cold wind.

  Eleanor looked tired in spite of the mug of coffee she’d drunk.

  “Did you even go home last night?” she asked, frowning at Vanessa. Vanessa nodded.

  “Yes. Promise.” She could see the strain, the toll being taken on her young colleague. “I had domestic stuff to do. A skip lorry, no less.”

  Eleanor managed a smile at this.

  “Good.” They were going over the data and calibrations from the previous session. Vanessa noticed that Eleanor kept to strictly numerical files, nothing graphic that might show up the pinnacled landscape of Far North.

  “So, MRI.” Eleanor tapped at her keyboard.

  “Today?” Vanessa raised her eyebrows. “I thought that it was rammed solid for the next three weeks.”

  Eleanor’s face pinched a little more.

  “It was. Dr Littleborough had one of her subjects pull out, last minute.”

  Vanessa nodded.

  “Good. Good.”

  “Yes,” Eleanor sighed.

  “We good?” Keith’s voice over the tannoy as the machinery began to click and whirr, and Vanessa was moved into the cylindrical chamber. She had noted, as Eleanor wired and blocked her, that the machine was white as snow.

  The sound she heard ought to have been the clinical metallic battering that she had heard in previous experiments. It had always reminded her of hammering, as if the Gods were tempering the steel of humanity. Today, the hammering slipped quickly into the beat of a drum. Drums. As she moved through the white plastic, it chilled and morphed and was ice.

  She was falling through the canopy of a tree and she reached to stop herself, but she could not, and the ice gave her up with sound like blades. Vanessa slid through the trees, the lace pattern of light marking her skin, felt the inked runes at her neck darken.

  She landed heavily at the edge of the lake, her body skidding over the surface with the momentum of her fall. Across the white expanse, she saw the dark shape separate from the horizon. She picked herself up, began running across the white ice to greet the black wolf.

  The alarms sounded out on deaf ears. In the initial incident. Explosion, electromagnetic pulse, it was not certain; the skeleton staff assigned to Dr Vanessa Way’s laboratory were knocked unconscious. The lab, sited in the Dark Lab wilderness of the De Quincey Langport campus was off the main grid, and no one had thought to check the protocols in place for this sort of meltdown. In the cafeteria, half a mile away, people busied themselves choosing soup and snacks, grumbled at the lack of choice of carbonated drinks.

  In Vanessa Way’s laboratory, the inhabitants were as still and silent as Sleeping Beauty and her servants in the castle.

  Thorns might have grown up around the low, skinny, black-clad building, but for the emergency lighting, which suddenly flickered on, unsure of itself.

  The light glittered over ice crystals creaking across the surfaces of the laboratory. Plastic and glass pinched and patterned until, with a gasp, Eleanor woke. As her eyes opened, as she took in breath after clouded breath, the ice melted and vanished, leaving no trace, save the cold, dead drives of the desktop computers.

  53

  The Black Blank

  The
re Is No Time

  The morning mood in Cob Cottage was as bright as the golden November light that filtered in through the windows. The Ways were busy with breakfast, the rustle and chink of cereal and spoon.

  “What are you up to this morning?” Anna asked Charlie as Emz joined them at the table. Charlie looked at her sister with a wry smile.

  “You can ask me, you know,” she said, her voice light and easy. Anna looked caught out.

  “Didn’t want to risk it.” Anna toyed with her muesli. “I feel so hyped up after catching that Poacher. Then I thought of you and…”

  “Aron?” Charlie said the name with no emotion.

  “You okay?” Emz looked worried. Charlie nodded.

  “Yes.” She ate a spoonful of cornflakes. “And no, obviously. An odd mix,” she considered.

  “Angry,” Anna offered. Charlie pointed her spoon in agreement.

  “Tick.”

  “Sad,” Emz offered, and Charlie nodded, a shadow passing across her face.

  “Big tick.” Her voice faltered. She scoffed more cereal, and Anna poured coffee to fill the silence.

  “I’ll get over him.” Charlie was sure. “I know it. Time will do that.” She looked at Anna who nodded. “But knowing that doesn’t wipe out the—” She couldn’t go on. Under the table, Emz stretched out a booted foot to rest on Charlie’s boot. Charlie gave a thankful smile.

  “I’m glad it happened the way it did,” she confessed, her spoon now stirring at the softening cereal.

  “Glad?” Anna asked.

  “Brutal,” Charlie said. “Final.” She took in a deep breath. “So there’s no going back.”

  “You heard from him at all since?” Emz asked.