The Dark Wild

by Piers Torday

  So this is how it all ends.

  Not with a bang, not with a whimper, but with a roaring wave that slowly surges down the river, already flooding the construction site below, containers and diggers bobbing about on the surface.

  There is no sign of the stag or the foxes.

  But I’m still here.

  *No,* I say to the dog. *This is not how it ends.*

  *It is, human, and for all your kind. Your time on earth has passed.*

  *What about your own animals – the ones you left behind to crash our helicopters and attack people on the streets – won’t they drown too?*

  The dog snorts. *Our tunnels are deep and dry enough. We have waited this long to reclaim the earth – what difference will retreating down them for a few more moons make? The sun will come again. Soon the earth will be dry once more – and ours!*

  Through the windows of the cabin, we can all see a rolling wave, getting higher all the time, pushing down towards the glass towers of the city. The Amsguard itself shudders and groans under our feet with the pressure of the sea pouring through it.

  I look at the rat stroking the dog’s back. He won’t look at me, instead humming to himself, very quietly, *I’m just a lonely rat, as lonely as can be …*

  The dog’s words run through my mind.

  We have sacrificed enough. What have you sacrificed?

  And, as if the Amsguard had collapsed into the torrent beneath us, dragging us down in an avalanche of shattered steel and concrete, it hits me. My stomach lurches, and I have to lean against the wall for a moment to catch my breath.

  What have you sacrificed?

  The red squirrel took Stone’s poison dart. Polly let herself be captured to keep the Iris safe. Rat challenged Dagger for me in the Underearth. The General, only just alive in my pocket. Mouse, risking her life so Skuldiss couldn’t get what he wanted. Wolf-Cub and the stag, prepared to face the foxes so I could escape up here.

  What have I done?

  I ran away – from home, from the Waste Mountain, from the train wreck. I ran away from the Underearth, I ran away from the Four Towers, from the spiders in the arcade, from the foxes down below …

  I ran away from the wounded rat now picking through his master’s fur. He still won’t look at me, as if I no longer exist. I remember what he said in the cave. *I do not do this for a cause. I do it for a friend.*

  Perhaps that’s it. I can’t sacrifice anything for people I don’t know. I know there are plenty of humans back there who probably aren’t worth saving. I can’t pretend that the animals are wrong about much of what we’ve done.

  But I can do it for a friend. For Rat, and all my other friends who have helped me.

  I can do it for them. For Polly and Aida. For the brave mouse hiding the information that could change the world back to how it was.

  Unless this dog changes it beyond repair first.

  Dagger has his paws up on the deck again, his gaze fixed on the waves spreading out towards the city. I tap him on the back, but if he notices, he doesn’t show it.

  *I challenge you,* I say.

  *I’m sorry?* says Dagger, still staring straight ahead, paws up on the smashed control deck, looking greedily at the floodwater piling up towards the bridges of the city centre.

  *I said, I challenge you. For the lives of my kind and the future of our world. We have made mistakes, but we have the right to live here too.*

  He turns to look at me, his head cocked. *Humans are famous for having a strange sense of humour, but you are exceptional.* He bares his massive metal teeth. *That old man thought it was funny to give me these. Perhaps it would amuse you to be torn apart by them.*

  Nothing frightens me more, but it didn’t stop the rat. Being outnumbered by the spiders didn’t stop the General risking his life for us. The wolf and the stag didn’t run away when they saw the foxes.

  I have been running away from the moment the helicopter arrived in our garden, from the moment I first saw this dog staring at me through our window. Pretending that this moment would never come, that somehow we would find another way. But we haven’t.

  That was why Dad and the stag didn’t want to tell me the dream. Because they knew it would come to this.

  I only have one way left to make a difference to this planet.

  And I’m not frightened of it any more.

  The dog shakes his head, like I am a young pup who is not learning as quickly as he should. He leaps down from the desk with a thump. *I gave you the chance to delay your death, to see your land one last time before it was destroyed – a chance so many of those we lost never had. But if you wish to die sooner, far be it from me to stand in your way.*

  *So you accept my challenge?*

  *Readily.*

  I turn to Mother Wolf. *And if I defeat your Wildness, will the rest of you submit? Will you stop this madness?*

  She glances across at her son. For the first time, she begins to look at him like a mother again. *If you defeat our Wildness, of course we will abide by the animal laws.*

  *Very well then.*

  Finally I crouch down to talk to the pigeons around my feet, who are shivering with worry. *If I don’t win, don’t let him lie about what happened here today. Tell the others the truth. I don’t want this to be totally forgotten.*

  *Oh yes,* says the white pigeon. *I won’t let the others tell the truth. You will be completely forgotten, don’t worry.*

  I ruffle his tiny head and turn back to the dog, a barrel of pure muscle behind a set of razor-sharp metal teeth. His eyes narrow. *Wait – you have no concealed human magic or weapon?*

  I stretch out my arms and open my palms, to show him. I come just as I am.

  *Very well,* says the dog, twitching with excitement.

  I look out of the window and take one last look at the blurred skyline of our city before closing my eyes.

  There is a hushed silence.

  Then it happens, quicker than I am expecting, the heft of muscle slamming into me –

  Dagger pauses, surprised to meet no resistance, then attacks again. We tumble down the spiral staircase, my head cracking against the steel banisters and steps –

  And fall through the door and on to the walkway, pigeons exploding out of our way, the rain driving down –

  As he sinks his artificial teeth into my arm –

  I scream with pain. Unimaginable pain.

  *I am going to enjoy this,* he says fiercely, toying with me.

  *Why?* I am just able to gasp.

  *Because every human I have ever known has inflicted intolerable pain on me, I shall do the same.*

  *It doesn’t have to be this way …*

  But he just sinks his teeth deeper into me.

  I’m on my back, the dog’s teeth clamped around my arm as he drags me towards the edge of the walkway. It feels like he will pull the arm clean off –

  I’m barely aware of the other animals filing out of the cabin, their shadows crowding round as we struggle. With my one free hand I try to grab the dog, but it’s useless, I can’t even begin to get a grip on the tight folds of smooth muscle. Shaking and worrying at my arm, the dog nudges me closer to the edge, so my head and neck hang over, the foam from the torrent below enveloping me …

  My thoughts start to swirl like the clouds of mist in my eyes. I feel I’m floating away, my mind leaving my body.

  But I don’t feel frightened. I don’t feel alone. I feel the stag by my side, as warm and strong as if he was right here. As he whispers to me once more, what he said in the Garden of the Dead.

  To bring the dark into the light, you need to show them, the stag said.

  Light.

  I need to show him the light. I only have one light.

  On my watch.

  Dagger shrank from light in the Waste Mountain, on the railway track.

  With my one free hand, I am just able to reach it on my trapped arm, directly under the dog’s gaze, and hope there is enough battery as I press it –

&n
bsp; Shining one last time, directly into Dagger’s eyes, dazzling him –

  Caught unawares, he recoils, skidding on the wet walkway, clipping his head on the railings and sliding off the edge between them with a high-pitched squeal. His metal teeth tumble out as he cries, disappearing into the foam and spray below.

  I’m lunging after him, with my good arm –

  Grabbing a paw –

  He twists his bull-like head up at me, his black eyes softening, about to fall into the floods of his own making. His mouth, half open, raw and damaged inside.

  *Let me go,* he grunts. *It’s what you want, isn’t it?*

  I’m holding him by a single white leg, the wet fur sliding in my hands, I’m trying to grip …

  *No, come on, I can pull you up!*

  But the dog, all muscle, is so heavy. I’m so weak. It’s like my own muscles have stopped working.

  I can’t pull him on my own.

  *No,* he says in a flat tone. *This is unnatural. This can never be. Beasts are beasts. Men are men. You will always win.*

  I’m trying and pulling with all my might, but he’s too heavy, the winds are so strong. His eyes close, and there’s the trace of a dog-like smile on his jaws as his leg starts to slither down through my grip –

  It’s not what I want. It’s what he wants. To become a martyr and famous for all the wrong reasons.

  *Let me go,* he whines, wheedling at me.

  And then, just as I think I can’t hold on any longer –

  Something starts to tug at my scarf, jerking me back.

  I twist my neck around, and see – my wolf-cub. Pulling at my scarf with his teeth. Behind him, his mother, her teeth firmly around his tail. Behind her, her pack, all gripping on to one another.

  The wind is swinging Dagger about beneath me as I try and grab his other paw –

  The wolves begin to drag me back from the edge, the dog still in my grip.

  *Pull harder!*

  Now the birds join too, the pigeons and the starlings, pecking at the scarf and pulling as hard as they can. The squirrels, grabbing my jacket all together and finally … Rat too, nipping at my collar, ready to save his tyrant master.

  Working together, we heave Dagger back on to the edge of the platform, where his legs collapse beneath him as he chokes and splutters out water from his toothless gums, all his power gone.

  But, his huge head bowed, he is not spluttering enough to hide his words, which sound like they are being dragged out of him.

  *You gave yourself to me,* he mutters. *You, a human, you let me attack you. You were ready to die. And then you saved me.* He looks at me, his tiny black eyes full of confusion for the first time since I saw him staring through our kitchen window. *I don’t understand.*

  *Perhaps that’s how we’re different,* I say. *But you don’t need to understand. You need to concede. Do you?*

  Dagger looks at the wolves, who turn away. At the starlings, flying high in the sky and pretending not to see him. The squirrels, gathered together behind my legs. He gives a sigh as long and as drawn out as that of the Amsguard gates opening. And the Wildness of the Dark Wild bows his huge head, conceding defeat.

  I don’t know whether to feel happy or sad. In fact, all I feel like doing is sitting down, so I do – with a thump.

  Drifting away from the white dog, Dagger’s wild gather round me in a circle. The wolves are staring at me with a new expression. It’s not the suspicion or anger of before. It’s something else.

  Concern.

  Mother’s eyes are suddenly soft as she stares at me. *I never believed I would see the day a human gave himself to an animal like that … We were wrong to doubt you, Wildness. I’m sorry.*

  She bows her head, as do all her pack.

  Wildness. She called me Wildness.

  She turns away from me and softly nuzzles the young wolf next to her. *I can see now how you have taught my cub to be a brave wolf, a son his father would have been proud of.*

  The wolf’s eyes light up, and he looks like he wants to say something, but then thinks better of it.

  A flash of green and purple swoops past my face. *Oh, I must say, I thought you handled that really well, Wildness. Letting yourself be attacked, then the thing with the light, then saving the dog … We’re all really impressed, aren’t we, birds?*

  The starling stops in front of her flock, spread out like a fan of iridescent feathers across the walkway. They stare down their sharp beaks at her with a stony expression.

  *Birds? We’re all in this together, aren’t we?* she says, a bit less cocky than before. There is no reply. *Birds …?* she says again.

  Then with a great chatter, the starlings form another fist in the air, but this time one which envelops their bossy leader, pecking and batting her with their wings, until she cries out feebly from beneath them –

  *What? What do you want?*

  And for the first time I hear all the other starlings speak. As one, as they swirl and dive around her. *Will. You. Stop. Speaking For Us. When You Don’t!*

  *Yes! Yes!* she sobs. *Anything! Just stop pecking me, please …*

  The starlings pull back and, wings drooping, her glossy plumage ripped and ruffled, the bird that brought down a helicopter creeps to the back of her flock to nurse her wounds.

  I want to say something to her, something about the General, but for some reason I can’t form the sentence clearly in my head.

  The pigeons line up along the railings behind me and are silent too. I don’t know why everyone is so quiet. We should be happy.

  The wolf-cub is suddenly on me, licking my face. His weight on my body hurts for some reason, and I try to push him off.

  *You must stay awake, Wildness,* is all he says.

  That’s not important. *The mouse … the Iris …* It’s very annoying how I can’t form a proper sentence. Like the words won’t add up in my head, and keep disappearing like clouds every time I try to get a grip on one. *And the gates … the floods …*

  I’m sure it will improve as soon as I get my breath back.

  But my breath isn’t coming back.

  *Don’t worry,* says my wolf. *The squirrels are turning the wheel the other way now.* As he says it, I feel the walkway beneath us shudder and groan once more, as the huge gates of the Amsguard slam shut against the world’s water.

  *How did you …? I mean, the foxes …*

  *Them? Oh, the stag and I, well, let’s just say we persuaded the foxes that their cause was lost. You don’t need to worry about him either. He’s gone to find your father and your friends.*

  *I’m … not … worried,* I say.

  *Yes, you have no need to be worried, dear friend!* says a voice from my lap. And I look down. There is the rat, giving me a ratty grin, curled up on my legs, eyes closed tight. *I knew you would, I always knew you would. You said you would never leave me, and you haven’t. You came back! So now I will never, ever leave you.*

  Then softly he begins to sing a familiar song to himself. The tune is the same, but the words have changed.

  *I’m a happy rat, as happy as can be.

  Old but alive, don’t mind me!

  Don’t worry yourself, don’t say another word.

  Why should I go? That would be absurd!

  I’m a happy rat, as happy as can be …*

  I want to say something but all I can seem to do is let my head fall back and stare at the sky.

  Which is when I realize the clouds above are finally parting, and the rain is easing. The storm of storms is fading away. Instead of damp grey air, there is bright sun beginning to break through, making the puddles on the walkway glimmer with life, trembling as the mighty barriers beneath our feet once again take the full strain of the surging sea behind us.

  Then my head flops forward of its own accord, which feels weird, and I see myself in the puddle between my feet.

  Only it doesn’t look like me.

  Half of me looks like me. The side with the arm I pulled Dagger up with.
r />   But the other half, the arm Dagger attacked, doesn’t look like me at all. For a start, the arm seems to be at a funny angle, like it’s only just attached to my body. Staring at the puddle, I tentatively raise my good arm to touch it, and find warm, sticky blood, spongy flesh –

  Now I know I’m not going to sleep.

  The dog ripped one side of me to shreds. I’m bleeding badly.

  Everything starts to happen at once – the pain, my heartbeat racing, my mind too – I’m stuck miles above the river on a metal walkway with some animals; they can’t patch me up. I try to stand up but can’t, and my hands are pale and clammy.

  *No,* I mutter. This isn’t fair. I’m not meant to die.

  But the birds, pigeons and starlings alike, start to crowd round me, saying nothing, just blocking the sky out with their wings, light shining through feather, skin and bone, as they fix their beaks and claws around me.

  *No,* I try to protest. *I’m not …*

  *Yes, yes, you are,* says the white pigeon, suddenly very close to my ear.

  *The Four Towers,* I say, then I can’t speak another word.

  As the walkway falls away beneath me, all I can see is the bright white light, shining through their wings, filling me and lifting me up – with the rat in my good arm – up through the rain clouds, above the water, above the towers, up into the sky, where everything is very quiet and still.

  When I wake up, everything is still white and bright, blinding me at first. Sunlight, streaming in through a window. A window I don’t recognize. A window in a small room, with lots of people and animals in it.

  I can hear them, smell them.

  Beyond the light there are faces, blurring and swimming into view. Faces all sat on chairs around my bed.

  As my eyes begin to focus I can see we’re in someone’s front room. Someone who hasn’t decorated for a while. A sofa, old-fashioned TV and little table, all covered in dust. Peeling wallpaper with faded curtains round the window. I’m not in a bed, just a mattress on the floor.

  A hand dips a cloth in a bucket of water, wrings it out and presses it on to my brow. It’s a nice feeling. ‘You OK now,’ says Aida with a smile. ‘This my old home. Remember the estate we got nicked in?’