“Dear Laney,” she read. “I must write down my thoughts while I still can. I may not be able to do so for much longer and there is much to tell you. I realise there is a risk that these words may be seen by the wrong person but I have to take that chance. I have detected an enchantment at work in this house. I can smell the valerian in every room and it has been strengthening steadily despite my best efforts to banish it. Valerian affects the memory and already I find myself struggling to remember what I should be writing. I will try to be brief.
For several weeks I have been working on a spell to uncover the true identity of the Shadow. I have become more and more convinced that he or she is someone within our community. At times I have come close, maybe too close, but I have not yet been able to finish the spell. I have kept you at a distance these past few weeks and that is because I didn’t want you involved if the spell went wrong.
Do not trust anyone. As yet we don’t even know which tribe the Shadow originally came from. My thoughts grow weaker (the paper was smudged, as if her pen had slipped), so I must finish and send this now. Do not come to my house to try to release me from the cage of this enchantment and do not ask anyone else to do so. A curse this strong may have defences built into it that could place you in grave peril. You must concentrate on the search for the Myricals.
If you find a Myrical, do not hesitate. Put it through the hole in the Mencladden Stone just as we did with the Crystal Mirror. Remember you will need a faerie from the correct tribe to put it through. The next Myrical will be safe inside Time just as the Mirror is, but the spell cannot be extended. The date was set for a year and a day when we hid the Mirror. As I write I cannot remember what date that was. I trust you will remember.”
Laney took a deep breath and read on. “I have one more thing to tell you. Your Mist Elder, Mr Frogley, spoke to me about your performance during training and he tells me your power displays certain qualities. I know this must be difficult for you, but”
The sentence was left unfinished and the rest of the page was blank. Laney turned it over, but the other side was blank too. Gwen must have forgotten what she was about to write. Had she been about to warn Laney, or to tell her off for not controlling her powers?
“It must have been horrible knowing that she was being captured by the spell,” said Claudia. “The Shadow must have realised she was close to discovering him and that’s why he made the enchantment. Let’s go, this is freaking me out.”
Laney crumpled the letter into her pocket and looked back at Gwen, who was humming to herself in the plant house. “She doesn’t even seem to know what’s happening.” She picked up a padlocked jar, which stood on the worktop. It was labelled Moonwort from my plant house: picked on July 15th this year. “Hey, that was my birthday – the fifteenth of July.” She stared at the label. “There was something else important about that day, but I can’t really think…”
“The spell’s starting to affect you!” said Claudia. “It’s in the air – that’s why the flowery smell’s so extreme. We’re breathing in the valerian.”
“We need to get rid of the scent and break the enchantment around Gwen,” said Laney. “I wish I had wind magic like a Kestrel faerie, then I’d blow the scent away.” Rushing back into the plant house, she went to the nearest window and struggled with the catch. Gwen was sitting on the bench, gazing into space. A sudden shaft of sunlight through the glass revealed hundreds of tiny green specks floating in the air like dust.
Laney swung the window open and hurried to the next one. The green dust swirled in the draught. Then something else moved. A patch of darkness shifted on the floor under the bench, slowly gathering into small puddle shapes and seeping outwards. Laney stared, wondering at first if she’d imagined it. “Claudia! Can you see that?”
“That must be the spell defence,” Claudia said. “It knows we want to break the enchantment.”
The shadows darkened in the corners of the room, underneath the shrubs and leaves, and by the door. They fused together, spreading and swelling like a disease. Then they flowed past Gwen as if she wasn’t there, gathering around Laney and Claudia.
Laney’s skin prickled. “It’s not interested in Gwen. It’s just after us. What do you think happens if it touches us?”
“I don’t know. We could become caught by the spell, or worse. I don’t want to find out,” Claudia told her.
Laney edged forwards, seeking the place with the narrowest patch of shadows. Then she leapt over the darkness and ran up the corridor, hearing Claudia running behind her. They bolted through the front door and down the path, through gently swaying stems of little white flowers.
Claudia closed the front gate and leaned on it. “So, next time Gwen tells us we shouldn’t mess with something, we don’t mess with it, OK?”
Laney wiped her forehead with her hand. “Now she’s trapped in there with no power to remember and we can’t even ask anyone to help.”
“She’s strong though. She’ll fight it.”
Laney reached over the gate to touch one of the little white flowers. I can smell the valerian in every room, Gwen had written. Were these the flowers behind the spell? She certainly hadn’t seen them growing in Gwen’s garden before. Her head whirled as a wave of scent broke over her, forcing her to back away down the lane.
“We need to get back to the forest and we need Fletcher,” said Laney. “But he will have told his parents everything by now and they’re bound to try to stop us going.” She bit her lip. On the corner, her dad and Simon were packing tools into the van. The Thornbeam house stood at the opposite end of the lane. At that moment Fletcher came out of his front door and saw them.
“The Thorns will definitely try to stop us going.” Claudia arched her eyebrows. “They’ll think that it’s their Myrical and nothing to do with anyone else. And as nobody else but us believes in the Shadow, they won’t see the danger in talking about it.”
“Then all we can do is try to get there first,” said Laney. “Fletcher!”
Fletcher came towards them, his shoulders slumped. Before Laney could open her mouth, he started speaking. “So I thought my parents would be thrilled to hear about the Wildwood Arrow, but guess what? They didn’t believe me – not about what we saw or anything.” He swallowed. “Actually, they laughed.”
Claudia and Laney looked at each other and tried not to look relieved.
Fletcher’s mouth set into a straight line. “And they say I have to keep away from the Avalon project. There’s to be another Thorn tribe meeting about it after Saturn Rising.”
“Stuff that!” said Laney. “We’re going back there today.” She quickly told him the bad news about Gwen, trying to keep her voice steady. “So it’s up to us to find the Arrow as soon as we can and take it to the Mencladden Stone,” she finished. “We can’t rely on her for help. Now we just need to get into the Avalon project.”
She saw his gloomy expression and wanted to shake him. “Come on!” she cried. “This is a Thorn thing! There has to be a way in that only a Thorn would know.”
“As long as we don’t have to turn ourselves into trees,” added Claudia.
Fletcher thought for a moment. “There could be something in one of my dad’s books that’ll help us.” He turned back up the lane. “You can come in – my parents are in the greenhouse at the bottom of the garden and Sara’s out playing.”
Laney had never been inside Fletcher’s house. The walls were made from a grainy wood the colour of dark honey, which made her feel like she was inside a hollow tree. Pots of bright daffodils stood on a table in the middle. Laney had never seen daffodils in October but she knew Thorns could make flowers grow whenever they liked.
Her gaze swept round the room and she jumped, seeing a movement in the corner. “Did you see that?”
“See what?” Claudia followed her gaze.
“Something small and dark on the floor.”
“Nope, nothing there,” said Claudia, “and no one has sharper eyes than a Greytail.”
Laney tried to relax. She’d thought for a zillionth of a second that she’d seen one of those black roots from the forest. After everything that had happened, she’d better not start imagining things.
Fletcher went to the bookcase and drew out a battered brown book with Gardener’s Almanac on the front.
“We’re not planting beans,” said Claudia.
“The title’s just a disguise. It’s actually full of Thorn stuff.” Fletcher flicked the pages, passing over tables full of numbers and words. “We use these things: times of sunset and moonrise, phases of the moon and positions of constellations.”
“Seriously? You actually like that kind of thing?” Claudia raised one eyebrow. “I’m glad I’m not a Thorn.”
“So are we,” said Fletcher.
Laney looked over his shoulder. “Offerings for the faerie ring at different phases of the moon,” she read. “What are offerings?”
“They’re like gifts,” said Fletcher.
Claudia’s eyebrow looked like it was stuck halfway up her forehead. “Do you actually do that? Leave stuff next to the rings? I’ve never noticed anything before.”
“You haven’t been looking very hard then,” said Fletcher shortly. “We only use the rings in the countryside, otherwise humans might notice.”
“I don’t think I could ever worship the rings. They’re too scary.” Laney couldn’t stop looking at the corner.
Fletcher’s mouth twisted. “You wouldn’t understand. You were brought up by a human stepmum and you don’t know half the things—”
“Fletcher? Are you there?” Mr Thornbeam called from the back garden.
Fletcher closed the book and ran out of the front door. Claudia and Laney followed him and they sprinted down the lane into the yard behind The Old Eagle pub. They found a fence to sit on at the back, screened by a willow tree’s drooping branches.
Fletcher looked through the book for ages. “Mistletoe,” he said at last, closing the pages.
“What, that stuff people kiss under at Christmas?” said Laney, disgusted.
Fletcher sighed. “I don’t know where the kissing thing comes from, but mistletoe is the plant of transitions – it helps you pass from one place to the next. That’s what the book says and that must be why it’s hung over doorways at Christmas. The humans pick up our ways sometimes but then they get the meaning wrong.” He balanced the book on a fence post. “It could be that the invisible wall is like a doorway into Avalon. If I’m right, the mistletoe will help us go through.”
“Are you sure it will work?” asked Laney.
“Not totally sure – but it’s the only thing in here that comes close to what we need. And, Laney…” He frowned. “We should wait till tomorrow night. Tomorrow’s Saturday and the moment the sun sets, Saturn will rise. Our power will be stronger after that.”
“We can’t wait! Gwen’s letter said don’t hesitate if you find a Myrical,” said Laney. “How is some planet going to boost my power anyway?”
“We Greytails don’t believe in lots of superstitions,” said Claudia, “but Saturn Rising really works. The rings around the planet are connected to the faerie rings somehow, and that makes more power flow in from the Otherworld. Anyway, we have to go – our tribes will notice if we’re not there and start to ask all sorts of awkward questions.”
“To be honest, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get us through that barrier without the extra power,” said Fletcher.
Laney clasped her hands together, feeling them grow hot. Claudia and Fletcher hardly ever agreed, so it was difficult to ignore them when they did.
“You should come too,” added Claudia. “A new faerie ring has formed just off Skellmore Edge and we’re gathering there to catch the upwelling.”
“It’ll be hard for her to come if her tribe doesn’t want her,” said Fletcher.
“I don’t think she should miss it,” said Claudia.
“Hey, you can talk to me – I’m right here!” Laney jumped down from the fence, her face red. “Your Saturn party sounds very nice, but what if your dad tells people what you said to him about the Arrow? If the Shadow finds out he’ll go straight to the forest and get there before we do.”
A dark expression spread across Fletcher’s face. “My dad didn’t believe me. He called me an idiot and said that’s what comes of running around with other tribes. So I don’t think that he’s going to tell a whole load of people what I said.”
“But he’s always been so nice,” said Laney. “I can’t believe he’d say something like that.”
“Believe it,” said Fletcher. “Things change. Maybe people change too.”
Laney went home with a hollow feeling in her stomach. She was worried that they weren’t going straight back to Hobbin Forest to find the Arrow, but something else bothered her too. She’d never seen things get to Fletcher this way. She pictured his face twisting as he told her she wouldn’t understand about worshipping the faerie rings, having had a human stepmum. It was true she hadn’t grown up learning the customs of the tribes, but he’d never said it so bluntly before.
After dinner she went to the garage to find her dad. He glanced at her briefly as he packed spanners and screwdrivers into his toolbox. “Everything all right, Laney?”
Laney searched for an easy way into what she wanted to ask but couldn’t think of one. “You know the tribes? Do you think people ever want to leave their tribe and be … something else?” An image of the Shadow rose in her mind.
Mr Rivers straightened up, a pair of pliers in his hand. “Why? What have they done? Has Frogley been bothering you since he sent you away from training?”
“No, nothing’s happened. I just … wondered if everyone’s really as close to their own tribe as they’re acting. Maybe some of them really want other things – like getting more power for themselves.”
“Most of them would never dare to go against their tribe,” he told her. “It’s always been that way. You’ve seen what it’s like for me – they won’t even speak to me most of the time.”
Laney swallowed. He hadn’t really understood what she was asking. The Shadow’s image faded. “Dad? Have you heard of Saturn Rising?” She curled her hair behind her ear.
“Yes, it’s a big occasion. All the tribes go along to some out-of-the-way place to watch Saturn rise, then after that different tribes celebrate in their own way. I think the Mists do twilight lake flying, but I’ve never taken part.” He wiped his forehead on his sleeve. “They don’t make so much fuss of it up north where I come from.”
“Why not? I thought it gave us some kind of power boost?”
“It does increase the strength of your magic. Though that’s not always a good thing, especially around here.” He put the pliers into the toolbox and wiped his hands on his jeans.
“So in Longstone, where you used to live, they didn’t celebrate the same stuff?” she asked casually. Her dad never talked very much about where he grew up although she knew it was by the sea.
Mr Rivers knelt down by the toolbox, rearranging some of the things inside. “Sometimes there were celebrations but no Thorns live up there and it’s the Thorn tribe that have always loved marking events the most. I guess it’s in their nature.”
“Oh.” She’d never thought about different tribes living in different parts of the country, but it made sense. There were no Kestrels or Blazes in Skellmore. “So which tribes live in Longstone then? Everyone except the Thorns?”
“Only Mists and Kestrels. It’s a very remote place – just rocks and the sea, really.” His eyes drifted, as if he were picturing it.
Laney tried to imagine him when he was younger but couldn’t. “So did you meet Mum there?”
“No, I didn’t.” Mr Rivers closed the toolbox lid firmly. “I’d better help Kim with the washing up or she’ll be pretty fed up with me.” He turned round in the doorway and looked at Laney seriously. “Don’t go to the Saturn Rising ceremony, love. The tribes round here have a way of turning everything
into a disaster. Trust me.”
Laney stared at the toolbox after he’d gone. Why hadn’t she told her dad about the Shadow? It was true that Gwen had made them promise to keep the Myrical hunt a secret, for everyone’s safety. But she knew that wasn’t the only reason. There was something that always stopped her – she just didn’t know what it was.
She sighed. No matter what he said, there was no way she was missing Saturn Rising.
The red burn mark on the end of her finger prickled and she rubbed it. She couldn’t help thinking that if her mum was alive they’d be a normal faerie family and she’d know about every custom and celebration the way her friends did. The thought dropped inside her like a stone sinking in water. She slammed the garage door shut and made her way back to the house in the dark.
Laney woke up thinking of the invisible wall on the edge of Stingwood’s Avalon project. The barrier had been so strong. Would something as small as mistletoe break it? She threw on jeans and a T-shirt, wishing she didn’t have to wait till the evening to find out.
It was Saturday and she walked down to the minimart on the pretext of buying chocolate but went instead into the yard to look over the fence at Hobbin Forest. The wood seemed quiet, with no sign of autumn-coloured leaves despite the chill in the air. Dread and excitement mixed inside her like a potion. The Wildwood Arrow was in there somewhere – just waiting to be found.
Mr Frogley’s bony figure appeared at the edge of the trees and Laney drew back. Where had he come from? Had he walked along the footpath from Faymere Lake or come from inside the forest? She heard a noise behind her and saw Fletcher’s dad coming out of the minimart with a newspaper under his arm. Sinking further back under the branches she realised that she mustn’t be seen here. If the Shadow saw her watching the forest he would know. She waited till both men were out of sight before returning home. Her skin prickled at the thought of her carelessness ruining everything.
The Wildwood Arrow Page 11
