by Alan Garner
“Now listen,” said Nicholas. “It’s about time you grew up. Shall I tell you what all that was about? You’ve got this Malebron thing on the brain. OK, so you didn’t fake it on purpose: you wrote it unconsciously, and you drew the unicorn because Helen found the jug when you were digging that hole in the garden. That’s how people’s minds work. If you’d read the books about it you’d see for yourself you’re up the creek.”
“Oh, shut up,” said Roland.
The road ended near a stile that led into the cinder path by the allotments. The path had chestnut palings on one side and a hedge on the other. It ran through a no-man’s-land between two built-up areas and came out on the road where the Watsons lived. At one point it crossed a stream over a bridge of railway sleepers.
The path was so narrow that the children had to walk in twos. The night was absolutely still.
“Careful at the bridge,” said David. “There aren’t any hand-rails. We’re nearly—”
The sound of air being torn like cloth burst on them, a dreadful sound that cracked with the force of lightning, as if the sky had split, and out of it came the noise of galloping hoofs. There was no warning, no approach: the hoofs were there, in the mist, close to the children, just ahead of them, on top of them, furious.
“Look out!”
They fell sideways against paling and hedge as a white horse charged between them out of the moonlight, pulling the mist to shreds. All about them was hoof and mane and foam, and they heard the horse gallop away along the path and leap the stile into the field.
The children clung to each other.
“Is everyone OK?” said Nicholas.
“Yes.”
“I’ve ripped my coat.”
“That was a near do,” said David. “I didn’t hear it till it clattered on the bridge, did you?”
“It’s probably bolted from the riding school,” said Nicholas.
“It didn’t have a saddle on,” said David.
“It’s broken out of its stable,” said Helen. “They wouldn’t have left it outside in the winter.”
“Yes,” said Nicholas. “Did you see the mess it was in? It must have fouled some barbed wire.”
“But wasn’t it a beauty?” said David. “That mane!”
The children crossed the bridge and walked on towards the road.
“I was scared,” said Helen. “But the poor thing must have been more frightened than I was.”
“It couldn’t have stopped,” said Nicholas. “If we hadn’t got out of the way it’d have trampled us to bits. Don’t say anything to Mum or Dad: they’d have a heart attack.”
“Gosh, that put the wind up me,” said David.
“Its tail hit me in the face,” said Helen.
“Funny how the moonlight made it look so big, too,” said Nicholas. “That, and being on a narrow path.”
“I hope it’s not in any pain,” said Helen. “It may do more damage if it’s still frightened.”
“It could have killed us,” said David.
“Yes, but not a word,” said Nicholas. They were on the road now. “Tidy yourself a bit, Roland. We don’t want to look as though we’ve been beaten up.”
But Roland hung back in the middle of the road.
“Come along, Roland, keep together.”
“Why are you talking like this?” shouted Roland. “You all saw it! Why are you pretending? You saw the horn on its head!”
CHAPTER 16
THE FIX
“C ome for a walk,” said David. It was the first time any of the children had spoken to Roland all day. Nicholas had gone off on his bicycle. Helen was careful to stay near her mother about the house, and David had been involved with his wireless textbooks.
“If you like,” said Roland.
They went down the road into Boundary Lane. They crossed the bridge, and then David went back over; stopped; and crossed again.
“OK, Roland,” he said. “You win.”
“Oh?” said Roland. “Do I?”
“I know how you feel,” said David, “but there’s no point in sulking. Things are too serious now.”
“What do you mean, ‘now’?”
“All right, they always have been.”
“Then what’s made you change your mind today instead of last night?” said Roland.
“Well, for one thing,” said David, “the cinders are all cut up by hoof marks on this side of the bridge, but not on the other. Even Nick would have to call that evidence. The unicorn broke through right here.”
“So it was a unicorn?” said Roland.
“Of course it was,” said David. “And we’ll have to do something about it. I’m dead scared.”
“I thought you agreed with Nick.”
“I’d like to,” said David. “But there was something that didn’t fit: it’s been bothering me for weeks. It’s that static electricity. You see, even if you believe the Treasures are real and are generators, the static shouldn’t be there. And it comes and goes.”
“How do you know?” said Roland.
“Oh, I’ve been experimenting ever since Dad was on about his roses. It’s there most days, early morning or dusk.”
“You didn’t tell me!”
“I didn’t want to,” said David. “Anyway, I think I know what’s causing it. They’re looking for the Treasures in Elidor, and they’ve found them.”
“Found them!”
“Yes: it’s quite simple. It’s like getting a radio fix on a transmitter. You have two receivers some distance apart, and they pick up the direction the signal’s coming from. Then you draw the two lines on a map, and where they cross is the transmitter.”
“So what?”
“Well, if the Treasures are generating energy, that’s going through to Elidor, you should be able to get a fix on them in Elidor. Can’t you see what happens next? They lay this fix, and when they go to the place where the lines cross there’s nothing there! They can point to a spot in the air, or on the ground, or anywhere, and say, ‘That’s where the Treasures are’, but they can’t touch them!”
“You mean, they can find the place in Elidor which coincides with our garden, but they can’t get through?” said Roland.
“Exactly. So what do they do? They keep trying to find the Treasures, and they keep pouring energy into the same spot, like cracking a safe, but it’s not going anywhere. There’s this terrific charge keeps building up – and some of it leaks through to here as static electricity!”
“If you say so,” said Roland. “But would they have the equipment to do it with? It didn’t feel as if it’s that kind of place, really.”
“I don’t know,” said David. “But they’re managing somehow.”
“Could they do it with their minds?” said Roland. “That’s how most things seemed to work there.”
“A sort of telepathy?” said David. “Yes, why not? All you’d need would be two people to lay the fix, and—”
“Two people?” cried Roland. “Have you ever seen anything by the roses?”
“No,” said David. “There’s been this static.”
“Listen,” said Roland. “We’ve got to prove it to the others once and for all: now, while they’re still jittery about last night. If I show you you’re right, will you explain to Nick and Helen how it works?”
“Yes: sure. It’s only an idea, though. The details may be wrong.”
“Come on.”
They ran back home.
“What are you going to do?” said David.
“Never mind,” said Roland. “I’ll show you. If nobody knows beforehand then Nick won’t be able to talk so much about hallucinations.”
Nicholas was oiling his bicycle when they reached the cottage. David went inside for Helen. She came out looking apprehensive. The afternoon light was fading.
“Now then,” said Roland. “Last night.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Nicholas.
“Why not?”
“I don’t,
that’s all.”
“Why is it so important for you to think Elidor isn’t real?” said Roland.
“I’ll give you a thick ear in a minute,” said Nicholas.
“What about you, Helen? Do you think we all imagined Elidor?”
“Oh, please, Roland. Let’s not row about it: please.”
“Yes, it’s stupid to argue,” said Nicholas. “We can think what we like, but we’re here now, and the Treasures, even if they are Treasures, are under the rose bed, and Elidor’s finished. It’s all over.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Nick,” said David. “You may have finished with Elidor, but Elidor’s not finished with us.”
“Whose side are you on?” said Nicholas.
“There aren’t any sides,” said David. “Not after last night.”
“I can explain that,” said Nicholas.
“And can you explain this?” Roland had gone to the rose bed and was holding his hand near one of the bushes. They all heard the crack, and saw the spark jump.
“This once, Nick,” said David. “Listen to Roland this once. If you’re not convinced, I promise we’ll not talk about it again.”
“Oh,” said Nicholas, “anything for a quiet life. What’s he going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
Again Roland had felt the charge as abruptly as if it had been switched on, and he arranged everybody in a tight group on the lawn facing the spot where the shadows had appeared.
“Can you feel the static electricity?” he said.
“I don’t like it,” said Helen. “It’s giving me gooseflesh.”
“Watch the rose bed. And keep watching,” said Roland.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” said David.
“My neck’s aching,” said Helen.
“Don’t move. Keep watching,” said Roland. “Oh, where are they? They must come. Nick’s got to see them—”
“So it’s static electricity,” said Nicholas. “It’s happened before.”
“You’re telling me!” said David. “But it’s getting stronger. I’m all pins and needles. We must be in some kind of energy field.”
—Just once more, and never again. It was as strong as this last time. They must come. They must, they must—That’s it! “There! Look!”
The two shadows stood on the rose bed.
“You fool!” groaned David. “You’ve done it now. It’s the fix!”
“But that’s what I’ve always seen,” said Roland. “What about it, Nick? Go on, have a good look. You can walk round them.”
Nicholas made a strangled noise in his throat.
“Is this one of your hallucinations, eh?” said Roland, and tried to turn his head to see how Nicholas was reacting. But his neck muscles were locked. The shadows darkened.
“I can’t move!” said Helen. “I can’t move! Oh, my neck!”
“It’s all right,” said Roland. “They go away if you leave them.”
“You cretin!” said David. “They’re using us! Shut your eyes! Don’t look!”
“I can still see them! In my head!” cried Helen.
The air whined. The shadows were pools fringed with light, no longer in the garden, no longer anywhere: free of space, they had no depth and no end.
“I didn’t mean it,” said Roland. “I only wanted to show you – so you’d know.”
He could hardly speak for the numbness that welled through him. His strength was being sucked out.
“Can’t you stop them?” whimpered Helen. “Oh, look!—Look!”
A white spot had appeared in the middle of each shadow, quivering like a focused beam of light. The spots grew, lessened their intensity, changed, congealed, and became the expanding forms of two men, rigid as dolls, hurtling towards the children. They matched the outlines of the shadows, and were rising like bubbles to the surface. As they came nearer their speed increased: they rushed upon the children, and filled the shadows, and eclipsed them – and at that instant they lost their woodenness and stepped, two men of Elidor, into the garden.
They were dressed in tunics and cloaks and carried spears. Shields hung on their backs. They were bewildered, and stood as if they had woken in the middle of a dream. Then they both looked at the soil between them where the Treasures were buried.
There was no static electricity in the air, and the hold on the children disappeared.
The men lifted their eyes, stared round at the garden, and then ran across the lawn and swung themselves over the fence into the orchard next door. Helen, David, and Roland did not move, but Nicholas broke forward after the men. He snatched up stones and threw them wildly into the trees. He was sobbing.
CHAPTER 17
SPEAR-EDGE AND SHIELD-RIM
“Y ou’re not safe loose,” said David. “You need locking up.”
“I didn’t know what it was,” said Roland. “And you wouldn’t listen to me. I had to show you. It’s Nick’s fault as much as mine.”
“You’re so mad keen to be proved right, you’d do anything, wouldn’t you?” said David.
“Save your breath,” said Nicholas. “We’ve got to decide what to do.”
“There’s nothing we can do,” said David. “This raving nit has seen to that. We might as well hand over the Treasures before one of us gets a spear in the back.”
“Look: all I’ve ever wanted is to be left alone,” said Nicholas. “I thought if we dropped this Elidor business we’d be all right. So fair enough, I’m to blame as much as Roland. My way hasn’t worked. Have you got a better one?”
Nobody said anything.
“Then how about this?” said Nicholas. “We can’t fool ourselves any longer, so let’s do the opposite. Let’s go out and bash them first, before they bash us.”
“But they’ve got spears,” said Roland.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” said Nicholas. “It’s the Treasures they’re after: right? They’re not really interested in us.”
“You can’t give them the Treasures!” said Roland. “You can’t let Elidor die like that! You can’t! It’s the most important thing there is!”
“If I thought it’d help,” said Nicholas, “I’d hand the Treasures over. But those two would still be here, and so would the Treasures. When they came out of their shadows they’d no more idea of where they were than we had when we landed in Elidor. If they can’t find a way back with the Treasures there’ll be more coming after them. But if the Treasures are in Elidor, we’ll be left in peace.”
“Fine,” said David. “But how do you get the Treasures into Elidor?”
“Search me,” said Nicholas.
“Malebron won’t have a hope,” said Roland.
“That’s his problem,” said Nicholas. “We didn’t volunteer for this.”
“Nick’s right,” said David. “We can’t hide them, and we can’t fight for them.”
“What about the unicorn?” said Helen.
“That’s what I mean,” said Nicholas. “When you start messing around with these things, you don’t know where it’ll end. We’ll have half of Elidor in our back garden if we’re not quick.”
“But that was Findhorn,” said Roland. “He was being hunted. You saw those gashes all down his side. He had to break into our world to escape. They want to kill him before Malebron can find him. Malebron was trying to tell us. There’s something he wants us to do.”
“Then he can want,” said Nicholas.
It was clear the following morning that there was not much time. During the night, slates had been taken from the coalhouse roof, and their fragments littered the rose bed. They had been used as spades, but the frozen ground had broken them.
Mrs Watson was too busy to notice anything all day. She had an appointment with the hairdresser’s in the afternoon, and then she was going into Manchester to meet Mr Watson. They were having dinner with some friends before the New Year dance, which was being held at a large hotel in the middle of the city.
“What’ll be t
he next move?” said David.
“They’ll come back tonight with something to dig up the Treasures,” said Nicholas. “It’ll be easy enough. There are plenty of garden sheds round here. I think we’re pretty safe in daylight, though. They’ll be lying up till it’s dark.”
“So we lift the Treasures first, is that it?” said David.
“Yes: we’ll have about an hour after Mum leaves before it starts to freeze.”
“What’s Dad going to say when he sees the mess?”
“It needn’t be a mess,” said Nicholas. “We can stick the bushes in again, and we’ll throw the earth on to a couple of ground sheets.”
Helen drew a sketch plan of the rose bed and labelled the bushes so that they could be replanted. Tools and ground sheets were made ready.
“Now, are you sure you can look after yourselves?” said Mrs Watson. “There’s cold meat and pickles, and be sensible about going to bed, won’t you? Don’t sit up all night in front of the television, and fetch the coal in before dark, and put the fire guard up. The hotel’s phone number is on the pad.”
“Stop flapping, Mum,” said David. “We’ll be all right.”
“You’ll miss the train,” said Nicholas.
“Oh, heavens! Is that the time? Oh, I sometimes wonder if it’s worth the fuss. I wouldn’t go if your father wasn’t so set on it.”
“Goodbye, Mum,” said Helen. “Have a lovely time.”
The children watched their mother until she was out of sight round the corner of the road.
“Phew,” said Nicholas.
They dug in relays without a pause.
The knots in the flex tying the lid to the dustbin had swollen, and they had to wait while David rummaged upstairs for his wire cutters. The polythene bags were milky with condensation when the children pulled them out of the bin, but the Treasures seemed to be no different for their year underground.
The children dropped the dustbin back, and trod the soil down as it was shovelled into the hole. The rose bushes were more or less straight.
“I think we ought to put the Treasures under our beds for tonight,” said David after tea, “and try and get rid of them tomorrow.”
