by M E. Holley
‘They think we’re just stupid little kids,’ he muttered.
She tossed her curls back. ‘Don’t worry about it. We know what we saw.’
The farmer in the tweed cap, who was standing on the edge of the crowd, grinned round mirthlessly. ‘Seeing as the phone lines are dead, I’d like to know how you knew about this smoking chasm in the wood before you got here,’ he said, confrontationally. ‘Have you got a different kind of mobile phone from the rest of us?’
Mike met his gaze evenly. ‘The information came by courier. What I think we should—’ He was interrupted by a mournful wail that sounded in the fields beyond the church.
Everyone started in alarm. ‘What was that?’
Then there were answering cries from the hills – strange, doleful howls that raised hairs on the backs of people’s necks.
‘Wolves! There really are wolves.’ The whisper ran through the crowd. Nobody looked sceptical now. Everyone stared up at the hills, while the howls echoed eerily round the valley.
A woman cuddling two small children cried out in a frightened voice, ‘What can we do?’
Mike raised his hands for quiet. ‘I asked for this meeting because we need to have a plan to ensure your safety, when you have to leave your homes,’ he said. ‘These animals are extremely aggressive and the danger is worse while you have no telephones. For the time being, you shouldn’t go out alone.’
The mood among the villagers changed. People looked at Mike, standing quietly in front of them, and now felt they could trust him. The crowd drew closer together, their eyes fixed on the wooded ridge above the church. A light breeze was wafting the pungent smoke across the churchyard. There was an outbreak of coughing. To the alarm of the villagers, sparks and tiny tongues of flame rose in the column of smoke from among the trees.
The Reverend Vaughan stepped forward. In his clear voice he said, ‘Let us pray for strength to help us deal with this strange situation, and for the safety of everyone in this community.’ The crowd stood motionless, heads bent and hands holding hands tightly, as the vicar started to pray. Then a child’s high voice rose above the prayers.
‘Mummy, look at the monkey!’
People nearby turned to look at the little boy.
‘Sssh, Jacky,’ muttered his mother anxiously. ‘It’s just a pussycat.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ the child shouted. ‘Look. Up on the roof. It’s a monkey.’
Erin and Jonah gasped.
‘Oh no!’ Erin said and then she stepped forward, evading Emlyn’s restraining hand, and called out. ‘It’s one of the animals we saw yesterday.’
Everyone who could hear her faltered in their prayers and stared up at the roof. Something skittered across the slates, whisking its tail. Girls screamed and the crowd broke up, as people backed away from the church. Several hideous little creatures suddenly appeared on the roof ridge, screaming abuse and threatening the flabbergasted faces turned up to them. An elderly man turned and rushed towards the lych-gate. And then, from the woodland deep in the Radnor Forest, came a great rumbling noise. The earth seemed to pulse and shiver beneath their feet and, high above the trees, a great column of fire shot into the sky.
CHAPTER 12
LEGENDS OF RADNOR FOREST
Some people began to scream as the plume of smoke mushroomed above the woodland beyond the stream. Neighbours clung to each other and looked apprehensively from the woods to the church roof, though the grotesque little animals seemed to have vanished.
The man in the tweed cap strode towards Mike and said aggressively, ‘I want to be told what you know about this smoke. We need that information now. And no flannel, boyo. Give it us straight.’ He looked at Mr Vaughan apologetically. ‘Sorry, Vicar. I don’t mean any harm but we need to understand what we’re dealing with.’
Mike smiled at him. ‘Don’t worry. I understand how you feel.’ He raised his voice. ‘This is what we believe is happening. Please bear with me because it’s going to sound very strange. I am glad that your local ministers are able to be here today because it all has to do with the local churches and, in particular, this church.’ He stopped for a second and glanced round at the old building bathed in the early morning sunlight. Then he turned to the sea of faces in front of him.
‘Look,’ he said, ‘around the Radnor Forest there are four churches all dedicated to Saint Michael – this one, and those at Cefnllys, Llanfihangel Rhydithon and Llanfihangel Nantmelon. And you all know that in English Llanfihangel means the sacred place of the angel.’
All their eyes were fixed on Mike as he reminded them how the old legend told that after the Archangel Michael’s victory over the Red Dragon of Wales, Y Ddraig Goch, those churches were built to keep it asleep under the Forest. The legend prophesied that the dragon would wake up if the ancient link between the four Forest churches of St Michael the Dragonslayer should ever be broken.
‘There are only a few houses out here at Cascob, so it isn’t worth opening the church every Sunday,’ he said. ‘There’s only one service a month. One might say it hardly counts as a centre of worship any more.’
‘So are you saying that here, at Cascob, the link is almost severed?’ asked one of the other clergymen.
Mike nodded. ‘The thing is, it’s not just an old legend. The last Great Dragon has been here, under Radnor Forest, all the time, and I’m afraid that the smoke we can see shows that it is actually waking up.’
A howl of protest rose from the crowd. There were some catcalls and jeering.
‘That can’t be true. We’re in the twenty-first century, for heaven’s sake,’ someone shouted. ‘That’s just stories, sure t’ be.’
‘It’s probably a bit of volcanic action,’ someone else called out.
People started to chatter amongst themselves. Some, grinning cynically, were asking how this young chap could expect anyone to take him seriously. Others pointed at the church roof, where they had all seen the horrible little animals, as proof that something weird was happening. Mike held up his arms to quieten everyone and the villagers turned back to look up at him. His quiet dignity, as he waited for everyone’s attention, stopped many of them from leaving. There was a lot of head-shaking, until another ominous rumble from the woods made everyone turn to stare anxiously at the column of smoke.
‘I’m sorry but it really isn’t just a legend,’ Mike said. ‘I know it sounds incredibly silly, but I am in earnest when I tell you that the dragon is waking up!’ He looked gravely around the crowd of people. He seemed suddenly to be taller and straighter, and his blond hair glowed in the sun. Jonah stared at him. What was it about Mike? Something pricked at the back of his mind.
He turned to Erin. ‘I keep getting this weird feeling I’ve seen
Mike before. Can’t think where, though.’
She stared at Mike through narrowed eyes. ‘That’s funny, because I’m getting that feeling, too. Do you think he might have been on TV?’
‘Yeah, you could be right,’ Jonah said. ‘Maybe he’s been interviewed or something.’
Mike was telling the crowd that the creatures on the roof weren’t animals. ‘They are small demons.’
There was an appalled buzz of conversation.
Mike raised his voice. ‘In the West, dragons have always been associated in people’s minds with terror, and I think that these Night Creatures, as we call them, are seizing an opportunity.’
He turned towards The Reverend Vaughan, who nodded in agreement.
‘As you well know,’ said the vicar, ‘people long ago didn’t have to see demons to be sure they existed. You even have an Abracadabra spell on the church wall here. But in the modern world very few of us believe in anything like that. We put bad things down to accidents, disease, human nastiness and so on.’
‘And that means,’ said Mike, ‘that it is much harder nowadays for the Night Creatures to spread fear. I think the Underworld is hoping to benefit from the chaos and terror the dragon will almost certainly cause when it wakes.’
>
‘So these creatures think the dragon will attack us?’ the vicar said.
‘Yes, and they will use anything they can to frighten you. They might try to enter human or animal bodies, or they might use stone effigies – like gargoyles. The more people who see them, the more the terror will spread. Your fear will help their power to grow.’ Mike glanced round and looked, for a moment, at the hills beyond the church. ‘They are coming up because they want what you have,’ he said simply. ‘This beautiful earth.’
For a moment, he looked enormously sad and again something pricked in Jonah’s mind. I know I’ve seen him before, he thought.
Mike paused as a clamour of disbelief broke out. ‘Yes, I know. I know it sounds crazy but it is true, I’m afraid. And, by the way, the wolves you heard are a sort of demon, too.’
There were audible gasps of disbelief.
‘But we must be able to get rid of the things!’ an elderly man called from the middle of the churchyard.
Mike bit his lip. ‘Not easy. The creatures here at Cascob aren’t an isolated phenomenon, I’m afraid. I think many, many more of them will come to the surface in the Welsh Borders. They are blocking every single way of getting in touch with other places.’
‘But how are they doing that?’ asked the vicar.
‘They are swarming over the local radio masts and communication installations, using a spell to cover all the telephone cables with some kind of fibre that traps the sound waves. A bit like silky spiders’ webs. That’s why you have no phones working. They want to isolate you, while more and more of them arrive.’ He hesitated for a moment before saying reluctantly, ‘Then they will attack in earnest.’
‘What about the Army?’ a woman called. ‘Can’t the things be shot?’
‘What about explosives?’ asked someone else.
Mike shook his head gravely. ‘They are totally impervious to any modern weapon.’
A young man glared up at Mike, scowling. ‘That’s unbelievable, man! Are you standing there and telling us that we’ve fought in two world wars, not to mention Bosnia and Iraq and Afghanistan, but we can’t get rid of these – animals and demons and things. It’s pathetic!’
There were cries of agreement and shouts of anger. The Vicar of Knighton stood up. ‘Please, everyone, let’s keep calm,’ he said, looking around. ‘It’s no use getting angry. If we are confronting the paranormal, ordinary weapons won’t be of any use. The important thing is to keep our heads, and think how we can try to protect our community.’
‘There is a way of destroying them,’ Mike said, ‘but it means you have to fight them face to face.’ He looked around at the puzzled frowns. ‘Face to face with a sword, I mean. I don’t think many men today know how to fight like that, do they?
‘There is no way I can soften this,’ he added grimly. ‘And I am deeply sorry to have brought you this terrible news. You are in danger. The Night Creatures don’t want to share this world. They want to take it away! They don’t want human beings on Earth – except as slaves.’
Mike bowed his head briefly and turned to talk to the Reverend Vaughan. As he did so, he glanced at the church and Jonah saw a shadow cross his face. Suddenly, a thought struck Jonah with such force that he nearly cried out.
‘Erin,’ he muttered. ‘Come over here.’
He ran towards the wall at the back of the church, past the huddled knots of anxious villagers and pulled Erin behind a bush, so that nobody could see them.
‘What’s the matter?’ Erin frowned at him.
‘I don’t want anyone else to hear this. They would just laugh at me. But the thing is, I was watching Mike and he turned and looked at the church, and something just came to me.’ He swallowed. ‘I think I might know who Mike is.’
Erin’s eyes widened. ‘Really? Not SAS, then?’
Jonah shook his head. ‘First I need to explain something,’ he said slowly. ‘Something I didn’t tell you about, after the wolf bit me.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well, I seemed to have a sort of nightmare. I was awake and everything, and the pain was terrible. I know I wasn’t asleep. But I heard ghastly whispering voices and saw kind of nightmare faces and they chased me...’ His voice shook and he faltered. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound like a custard-head, but it was just awful.’
‘Custard-head?’
‘That’s what we say at my school. You know, when someone’s all scared about doing something they’ve got to.’
Erin leaned forward. ‘It’s OK, Jonah. You’re no scaredy-cat. I was the one who cried, remember? And nothing so awful happened to me.’
He took a deep breath. ‘Thanks.’
She looked puzzled. ‘But what’s that got to do with who Mike is?’
‘Well, the same kind of thing happened, when I looked at Mike just now.’ He laughed and waved his hands as Erin began to object. ‘No, I don’t mean I saw terrible things. The opposite, really. I looked at Mike just as he finished speaking and I seemed to see another Mike. Oh, gosh, it’s so hard to explain.’ He thumped the ground in frustration.
‘Go on!’
‘Well, when he looked at the church, I was thinking he looked really sad, and then, somehow, the sun shone on his hair, and it seemed to sort of blow back. But there’s no wind, is there? And the air seemed to – sort of – shimmer.’ Jonah was looking at her expectantly.
Erin sat back and wrinkled her nose. ‘Were you – like – hallucinating?’
‘No, I wasn’t! Don’t you see what I mean?’
She shook her head. ‘No. Sorry,’ she said slowly.
‘Oh, Erin, you do! Think! Mike knows all about these strange things that are happening, the dragon and everything, but he hasn’t said how he knows. He’s sad when he looks at the church...’
‘He just appears and we never know where from.’ Erin put in, eagerly.
Jonah leaned forward and clutched her shoulders. ‘And his name is Mike, which is short for...’
‘Michael!’ They both said it together. Erin’s eyes were huge.
‘It was what you said about him looking at the church,’ she whispered. ‘That’s why he’s here. It’s his church, isn’t it? You think he’s Saint Michael the Dragonslayer.’
CHAPTER 13
ABRACADABRA
Jonah and Erin were still sitting by the churchyard wall, deep in discussion about Mike, when the screaming began. The children scrambled to their feet and peered round the bush.
‘Oh, no, the Night Creatures are back. Look!’ said Jonah, pointing. Six or seven grotesque little creatures were slithering over the roof or dangling from the guttering, taunting the appalled people down below.
‘Oh, I don’t like this!’
‘Come on, then. Let’s go back to the others,’ said Jonah.
As they ran back to the church, Mike came racing away from the crowd, making towards the back of St. Michael’s. As Mike turned the corner, the children saw Rhodri sprinting after him.
‘I’ll help you drive them off,’ Rhodri called.
Mike stopped. ‘No, mate. Thanks. Can you keep everyone together on the porch side though, and well away from the church? It will be safer.’
‘Sure,’ Rhodri said, and ran back up the path.
Erin bumped Jonah’s arm. ‘Mike’s good at taking charge, isn’t he?’
They exchanged glances.
The clergymen began to say The Lord’s Prayer.
‘Come on, everybody. Join in. Don’t stop!’ a man shouted. The vicar raised his voice and the villagers joined in, with all eyes fixed on the slates. The little fiends pranced in a mad pantomime, grimacing and hissing at them. Rhodri hurried to move people away.
‘Get back,’ he called, ‘Get well away from the church, so these things can’t touch you.’
The man who had run from the churchyard came hurrying back, panting for breath as he stumbled along. Under his arm he carried a shotgun.
‘Good idea!’ shouted one of his friends. ‘Make space for Harry, everyo
ne! We’ll soon see if guns can’t hurt them.’
The vicar looked round, saw Harry coming with his gun and waved his arms frantically.
‘Tell him not to shoot,’ he called urgently. ‘Stop him, somebody. Stop him!’
People were moving quickly aside to let Harry aim his gun at the biggest fiend capering on the apex of the roof. Rhodri dashed towards him but before he could speak, the old man fired. There was a moment of terrible silence in the churchyard as they all looked up. The creature, motionless, stared down at them, its face contorted in rage. Then it shrieked and scampered down the church wall to the ground. It leaped across the grass, spitting and baring its teeth at the nearest people. They screamed and scattered, scrambling behind gravestones and bushes to get away.
As the children ran for the gate, one of Erin’s schoolfriends stumbled over the edge of a grave that was hidden by long grass. She fell headlong onto the ground. The demon screeched with joy, bounded across the grass and leaped on her back. She squealed with terror and tried to roll over to knock it off. Before anyone could reach her, it clutched handfuls of her hair in its bony hands, yanked back her head and bit into her neck. She shrieked as blood poured from the wound, and then her body began to jerk violently.
‘Megan, don’t move!’ Before Jonah could stop him, Erin’s school friend Gethin flung himself on the Night Creature, trying to pull it off. It turned, grabbed his wrist and viciously sunk its teeth into his arm. Gethin grunted with pain and then he crumpled on to the grass. Like Megan, he began to twitch uncontrollably.
The scaly demon was sitting astride her back chortling, and raking its nails down her arms until they were a mass of bleeding scratches. She whimpered faintly as it kicked her hard with its bony heels but she seemed to be losing consciousness.
‘Megan! Oh, my God, Megan!’ A fair-haired woman raced across the churchyard, screaming, and had to be held back.
‘Get off me,’ she sobbed, as she struggled against the restraining hands. ‘Let me go to my daughter!’
