Dark Tree Shining

by Paula Harrison

  “So that’s your plan: to get rid of the humans?” Laney said as she felt Fletcher’s branch-arm turn to skin under her hand. If she could keep the Shadow talking there would be time for Fletcher to change completely. “Is that what you’re using the Arrow for?”

  “No more words.” The Shadow’s gloved hand fastened painfully over her wrist and he dragged her away from Fletcher. “Out of my way, unless you want to feel my rage.” He let go of her, sending her crashing to the ground.

  “No!” Laney scrambled up. “Don’t touch him. You’ve already hurt my dad.” She gripped the back of the Shadow’s black cloak and pulled in desperation. The material began to smoke under her fingers. There was a flicker of orange and a tiny hole with ragged edges appeared in the cloak.

  Laney fell back, her heart juddering unevenly. Her hands were blazing with heat and, giving into instinct, she grabbed hold of the Shadow’s cloak again. Pain shot through her hands into her fingers and the burn mark on her middle finger became a white-hot point of agony.

  The Shadow yelled and thrust Laney away from him. Tiny flames burned where she’d touched him, licking along the material. Hastily he clamped his hands over his cloak to put them out.

  Laney breathed in sharply. Lifting her hands, she studied the fire burning in the centre of her palms. The flames were edged with orange and had a pure gold centre. There was no pain in her hands any more, just a deep sense of warmth. The pent-up feeling she’d had for weeks – the feeling that something was trapped inside her – was gone completely. Breathing fast, she watched the fire burn higher, climbing as her spirits rose.

  “Impossible!” the Shadow hissed. “That is a hoax! You’ve got some Elder to bewitch you. Your friend shall pay the price – in pain.”

  Laney rushed at him, pressing the flames on to him and burning another hole in his cloak. She reached for his hood, singeing the edges of the black material. The Shadow grabbed her throat, unfolding his vast leathery wings and lifting her off the ground. Ice formed across her neck from where he grasped her, freezing her breath.

  Gasping, she pulled at his hands. His scorched cloak billowed in the air and suddenly she saw it – the Wildwood Arrow – strapped to his chest. She wrenched it free. The Shadow snatched for it and in doing so, he let her fall. Shocked by the sudden plunge, she tried to right herself and only managed to get her wings half open before she smacked into the ground.

  Voices sang, high and sweet. The song of the faerie ring seeped into Laney’s aching body. The song told a story of fire and water, and underneath it all a voice she thought she recognised called her name. The leaves of the great oak tree shook and the singing faded.

  She lay there looking up and a pale figure shot overhead. The air quivered. Lightning flashed everywhere, cracking open the sky. Bolts of red fought against green, and the green lightning pushed the red back with a shower of sparks. The Shadow blasted more spells through the air but this time the green lightning enveloped the red, folding it up and melting it into nothing. The Shadow wheeled round and flew north, his tattered cloak flying out behind him. The pale figure pursued him, still shooting bolts across the sky, and even without the hat Laney could see that it was Gwen.

  She hauled herself up and her voice came out in a croak. “Gwen! I’ve got the Wildwood Arrow.” Then she realised she wasn’t holding it. Where was it? She knew she’d had it when she fell. She swayed and everything went blurry.

  A hand caught her shoulder. “Maybe you’d better sit down,” said Fletcher. “You seem a bit wobbly.”

  “Fletcher!” She smiled in relief. “You’re back to normal.”

  “Almost.” He pulled a leaf out of his hair. “I feel a bit strange – sort of wooden, and my knees and elbows are quite stiff.”

  Laney checked the ground. “Did you see the Myrical? I took it from the Shadow. I know I was holding it.”

  “It’s here – don’t worry.” Fletcher picked up the arrow from where it had landed behind the oak tree. “Are you OK? You seem … different.”

  Laney quickly looked down at her hands. The round burn mark on her middle finger stood out against her pale skin like a tiny red moon but the flames in the centre of her palms were gone. What was happening to her? It didn’t make any sense.

  Fletcher broke the silence. “Thanks for finding a way to bring me back. It shows you’re pretty good with magic after all.”

  “No, I’m not.” Laney’s throat tightened, thinking of all the struggles she’d had to control her power. “Frogley was right about me and Jessie was right too. I just didn’t want to believe them.”

  “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Anyone would find it tough going up against a Shadow faerie.”

  Claudia limped up to them. “That was the scariest thing ever. But your plan for the potion worked, Laney. Your tribe will have to be proud of you now!”

  “You don’t understand.” Laney realised that they hadn’t seen what she’d done. “My powers are all wrong. I’m not a proper Mist faerie.”

  “Of course you’re a Mist. Your dad’s a Mist.” Fletcher looked at her more closely. “What is it? Did the Shadow hurt you? I couldn’t see much while the dark spell was wearing off.”

  Laney swallowed. She knew she should face the truth but would it mean facing the fact that her own powers were dark too? “When I fought the Shadow just now, something strange happened …” She clasped her hands together, feeling the heat rising within. Then she opened her fingers and showed them the tiny golden flames burning in the centre of her palms.

  “Laney, what’s happened to you?” Fletcher stared at her. “For Thorn’s sake, your hands are burning!”

  “That’s incredible!” Claudia’s jaw dropped.

  Laney put her hands behind her back. “Don’t tell anyone yet. I need some time to figure this out—” She broke off as Gwen flew down and landed beside them.

  Gwen closed her pale-green wings. Her eyes had purple smudges beneath them and her skin seemed paper thin, but lightning still sparked at her fingertips. “The Shadow’s gone for now, but I never thought to see so much damage.” She gazed around at the pitted earth, ripped open by black tree roots.

  Laney hesitated. “When we came to your house, you were under a spell…”

  “The valerian? Yes, I know.” Her eyes glinted. “The Shadow should have known that would not hold me for ever. But I never thought to see all this…”

  “The Shadow poisoned the Wildwood Arrow,” Laney told her. “Stingwood started working on a secret project in the forest but he didn’t know that the Shadow was using dark magic on the Arrow. As he worked on his Avalon project, he gave himself and the Thorns over to the Shadow’s control.”

  “This still has Shadow magic in it.” Fletcher held out the Arrow at arm’s length. “I can feel it trying to work on me.” His hand trembled and a greenish hue passed across his skin. “And the other Thorns are still bewitched.” He indicated the scattered Thorn figures around the park.

  Claudia clutched her side where the lightning had struck her. “There’s a rain puddle by the swings. I’ll dip the arrow in there; if we’re lucky it will contain some of the potion we made.” She took the Arrow from Fletcher.

  “We put moonwort leaves into a bottle of elixir,” Laney explained quickly to Gwen. “It was the moonwort you picked at the red moon.”

  They watched as Claudia dipped the Arrow in the puddle. “Ew!” she said. “All this black gunk is coming out. I think it’s safe now. You’d better check it, Fletcher.”

  “I can’t believe I’m letting a Greytail hold the Thorn Myrical,” Fletcher said, half to himself. “And I’m actually happy about it.”

  “There have been strange changes of fortune this day,” Gwen said quietly.

  Laney remembered her father, injured after fighting the Shadow. “My dad!” she cried. “He’s hurt, Gwen. I have to get back to him.” And she took off, darting over the great oak tree. Below her, the nearest Thorn statue shook leaves off his body. Mr Thornbeam rubbe
d his forehead as his skin warmed from greenish-brown back to normal.

  Leaving the park behind, she flew over Beacon Way, where groups of Thorns were standing together and looking confused.

  “Gotcha, moss-brain!” Tom Lionhart dived over them, pouring slime over their heads.

  “Tom!” Laney called to him. “The Thorns were under a spell but it’s broken now.”

  Tom looked disappointed. The ground rumbled as black roots turned brown and disappeared back into the earth, leaving behind a village overrun with plants and brambles. A gang of hobgobbits advanced down the road in their strange, lurching run, chased by dozens of cats and a horde of crows that dived at them, pecking their hairy bodies. A shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds, showing that the air was clear of the green specks from the valerian spell.

  Laney sped up – the humans would soon be waking.

  Landing in Oldwing Rise, she changed back to human form and ran home. She pulled thick vines and brambles away from the doorway just as Kim opened the door.

  “Laney! Your dad’s hurt. I’ve had to call an ambulance.” Kim stared past her stepdaughter. “What on earth! What’s happened out here? It’s like a wilderness.”

  Laney hurried inside. Her dad was lying still, eyes closed, the round purple lump on his forehead still visible. His chest rose and fell as he breathed. She knelt down next to him, willing him to wake up. “We have the Wildwood Arrow,” she whispered. “The Shadow’s gone.”

  Her dad didn’t stir.

  “I found him lying here.” Kim’s face was pale. “I don’t know what happened or what he was doing, but he won’t wake up.”

  Laney pressed her lips together. How could she tell Kim that she knew exactly what happened, that she’d seen it? She couldn’t tell half the story so it would be better to say nothing at all. She got up and hugged Kim. “I’m sure the ambulance won’t be long.”

  Time passed slowly in the waiting room of Pennington Hospital. Thoughts crowded through Laney’s mind as she tried to amuse Toby with books and Lego bricks while Kim talked to a succession of doctors. The ambulance had been slow to arrive as there were still trees lying on parts of the main road. The doctors were performing tests, they were told. It could take a while.

  Laney felt as if she couldn’t bear it – the long corridors that smelled of disinfectant, the worn-out chairs in the waiting room. She couldn’t stop picturing her dad’s still face as they’d loaded his stretcher on to the ambulance. He should never have tried to fight the Shadow. Why couldn’t she have discovered her fire sooner and used it to help him? She furtively opened her hands. Every time she felt like crying they grew hot again. Quickly she closed them.

  As the sun set, the door of the waiting room opened and Claudia and her mum came in. “Kim, I heard about Robert and the nurses said you were in here,” said Mrs Lionhart, her quick eyes taking in Kim’s tired face. “We came to have Claudia’s side looked at. She had an accident on her bike earlier.”

  Claudia showed them a large bandage over her side. “It doesn’t really hurt – looks gross though.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Kim vaguely.

  “Laney fly girl!” said Toby, clapping two bricks together.

  Laney shushed him.

  “Why don’t you let us take Laney back to Skellmore with us and she can stay at our house tonight?” said Mrs Lionhart smoothly. “One less thing for you to think about.”

  “That’s very kind.” Kim rubbed her neck distractedly. “Then I can take Toby over to my mum’s before I come back here to see Robert.”

  “Exactly.” Mrs Lionhart nodded. “Laney, we’ll go to your house and you can pick up your things.”

  Laney hugged Kim and Toby as she left. Then she followed Claudia and her mum back down the long hospital corridor.

  “Try not to worry about your dad,” said Mrs Lionhart. “We’re much quicker to heal than humans – you’ll see.”

  Laney swallowed. “Thanks.”

  “And by the way, don’t be shocked when we get back to Skellmore,” Claudia told her. “The place is overrun by more than plants right now.”

  Laney saw what she meant as they drove up the High Street. Rows of cars and television vans were parked along the side of the road. Cameramen cursed as they tried to unload equipment from the vans, tripping over brambles and cracks in the pavement left by the retreating tree roots.

  “I’ll drop you here. I’m just going to pick up some things from the shop,” Mrs Lionhart said.

  Laney and Claudia climbed out, nearly bumping into a woman in a suit talking into her phone. “Careful!” She glared at them.

  Claudia scowled back, then she tugged on Laney’s arm. “Flippin’ heck! Look at that! They’re going to interview the Mottles.”

  Mrs Mottle and Craig stood in front of the hairdresser’s next to a serious-looking correspondent. The girls edged nearer to listen.

  “And only twelve weeks since they were the centre of a devastating flood, the little village of Skellmore is in the news again,” the correspondent said. “In a week when the rest of the country is slipping into autumn, this place has seen huge quantities of plants and flowers literally growing overnight. Residents have had to cut down foliage growing across their doors and windows, and several accidents have been caused by trees obstructing the road.” He struck a serious look for the camera.

  “Locals are suggesting that this strange phenomenon may be connected to the flood. They say large quantities of fertilisers spread on farmers’ fields to help the crops may have entered the water table when those fields were flooded, and this has caused the plants to grow at extraordinary rates. With us now we have Mrs Mottle and her son Craig to explain what happened.” He turned to her. “Mrs Mottle, could you tell us what you saw when you got up this morning?”

  Mrs Mottle simpered. “It was quite amazing! I said to Craig – didn’t I, Craig? – that I’d never seen anything like it. There were plants everywhere. It was very difficult just getting down my front path.” She giggled.

  “I see,” said the correspondent. “Do you think it’s strange that this has only happened in Skellmore, leaving the local town unaffected?”

  “Ooh, yes,” said Mrs Mottle. “This is a very ordinary village and it’s always very quiet. So it’s a bit of excitement for us!”

  “Let’s go,” groaned Claudia. “I can’t stand it.” They crossed the High Street, leaving the TV cameras behind. “Do you think people will really believe all that stuff about the fertiliser making the plants go wild? It’s such a load of dog biscuits.”

  Laney shrugged. “What else are they going to believe – that an evil Shadow faerie worked an enchantment over the village? The world they know would collapse if they knew the truth.”

  “I guess.” Claudia kicked a wilting clump of valerian.

  “Claudia?” said Laney quietly. “Where’s the Wildwood Arrow? Is it safe?”

  “Yes.” Claudia stopped to let her black cat, Dizzy, wind round her ankles. “Gwen’s taken it to Mencladden Hill, ready to put it through the stone at sunrise. She says she can protect it more easily there than in her house.” She gave her friend a sideways look.

  Laney knew Claudia must be wondering about the flames in her hands and she was grateful to the other girl for not bombarding her with questions.

  “You look exhausted,” Claudia said at last. “Let’s just get your stuff and then we can find something to eat. Unless you want to be interviewed on TV?”

  Laney smiled. “I think I’ll skip it.”

  Laney woke up while it was still dark. She was on a blow-up bed on Claudia’s floor. The Greytail house growled softly around her, making the floor tremble. She’d got used to it after a while and it had even started to feel comforting. Padding to the window, she looked out at The Cattery, the only street not overrun with plants and brambles. A full moon lit up a cloudless sky and in the park the great oak tree flushed gold as it drew in power from the faerie ring.

  Claudia murmured in her sleep a
nd curled up with her knees tucked in. Three cats slept on her bed with her: a large ginger, a tortoiseshell and Dizzy. Seeing her at the window, Dizzy raised her head to watch. Her green eyes looked eerily bright in the dark.

  Gwen would be on Mencladden Hill, protecting the arrow ready for sunrise. Laney’s mind slid back to the moment when she’d seen the arrow under the Shadow’s cloak. He’d had her by the neck, and ice had spread over her skin beneath his grip. She’d hardly been able to breathe…

  Her hands curled on the windowsill, growing hotter.

  Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

  The Shadow had made ice.

  “Claudia!” She shook her friend’s shoulder and Dizzy hissed protectively.

  “What?” yawned Claudia. “’S too early.”

  “I’m going to Mencladden Hill now. I’ll meet you there, OK?”

  “Fine. Whatever.” Claudia fell back into her murmuring sleep.

  Laney tried to breathe slowly. Her heart was thumping and the little flames had appeared in her hands again. She switched to faerie form, opened Claudia’s window and glided into the moonlit night. Dozens of pairs of eyes gazed up at her as she soared over The Cattery. The cats were out in force. She flew over the High Street and skirted round the edge of Hobbin Forest. The Shadow’s hold over the arrow was broken but she still felt wary of the trees.

  She had to cross Faymere Lake and then the river to reach Mencladden Hill. The full moon cast a broad silver path across the water. Usually she would have swooped low, touching her wing tips against the surface of the water, but today all she could think of was the Shadow’s grip on her throat.

  She landed at the bottom of the hill, careful not to get too close to the faerie ring that lay near the riverbank. Gwen stood at the top, a faint glow around her winged figure. Towering over her was the ancient Mencladden Stone – a circle with a strange oval hole in the middle. Laney always thought it looked like a giant cat’s eye.

  “What are you doing here, Laney?” Gwen said as she reached the top. “Sunrise isn’t for several hours.”