‘But – but I only just got you back!’ Moll stammered, fresh tears welling. ‘Don’t leave me now!’
‘You’ve a journey in front of you, and a journey’s two things: a moving away and a moving towards. In moving away there is only what is known, and in moving towards there is hope. This is a journey of moving towards. I’ll never really leave you, Moll. I’m around you every day.’
And then the wildcat’s eyes closed. The chamber blackened and Moll stepped backwards, feeling for Gryff. He snuggled close, then the carved wildcat opened its eyes and the chamber was flooded with blue light again.
A strange grinding noise sounded and, very slowly, water began to trickle from the wildcat’s mouth into a wooden basin beneath it. It fell like rumbles of faraway thunder and then there was another sound, and it cut into the rumble as clear as a wind chime: the clatter of something hard dropping into the basin.
There, glittering under the carved wildcat, lay the most spectacular jewel Moll had ever laid eyes on. Cinderella Bull had rubies as red as royal robes and emeralds as deep green as the forest’s leaves, but this jewel was something else.
‘The amulet!’ Moll whispered, hardly daring to breathe.
Every blue – sapphire, cobalt, cerulean, navy, indigo, azure, iris, teal – sparkled from the jewel and danced up and down the walls of the chamber, like a turquoise rainbow trapped underground. The jewel was encased in silver and not moon silver this time, but the real thing. There was a chain – with links as fine as spider’s silk – fashioning the whole thing into a necklace.
Moll reached into the water and held it in her hand. It was cold and heavy, as if many untold secrets had been locked inside it. She slipped it over her head – a part of her pa right there with her.
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Now we’ve got it, we’re going for Skull.’
That’s when the footsteps started: hesitant at first, then louder, faster, like a torrent of water rushing towards them.
Moll’s eyes darted round the chamber. They were at the end of it. There was nowhere left to run. Gryff snarled through clenched teeth and Oak whipped out his dagger, pushing Moll, Alfie and Siddy behind him.
The footsteps charged on through the darkness towards them. Moll’s pulse hammered in her ears and her skin crawled with sweat. It was over. There was no way out. She reached for Gryff and felt his heart beating with hers.
‘Oak!’ came a cry from the shadows.
Terror gripped Moll’s throat. The Dream Snatch had started inside her again – slow and steady. She watched in horror as three dark shapes loomed out of the shadows. Skull? Hemlock? Gobbler?
‘Oak!’ the voice cried again.
Siddy had closed his eyes, prepared to be eaten alive by whatever was coming for him, and, beside him, Alfie felt for his dagger. Oak strained his neck towards the advancing shapes, his dagger outstretched before him.
And then he lowered it and smiled.
One after the other, Domino, Wisdom and Noah shot out of the shadows into the light.
‘Sorry if we caused a fright,’ Domino panted, hands on his knees. Though he was the smallest of the brothers, he’d outrun them both. ‘Mooshie sent us after you as soon as she saw it.’ He wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘You’re not safe down here.’
Oak took a step forward. ‘Saw what? What’s happened?’
‘Skull’s coming back,’ Wisdom said, ‘with Hemlock, Gobbler, Brunt – all of them. Cinderella Bull read it in her crystal ball. Skull knows we lied about Moll searching for the amulets far from the camp. He must’ve used some kind of dark magic now he knows her name, to find out where she is.’
Domino nodded. ‘They’ll come back to our clearing, Cinderella Bull says.’
‘With the hounds?’ Oak asked.
Noah shook his head. ‘Cinderella Bull saw them in her crystal ball too. The Lull’s healing properties worked, because when the hounds woke up they were just harmless strays. Skull let them loose when he realised, but we’ve wheeled the wagons out of the clearing and hidden them in the forest—’ He paused. ‘Because Skull means to burn Moll and Gryff out of Tanglefern.’
Gryff dug his claws into the ground, his fur bristling with anger. Beside him, Moll clenched a fist round the amulet.
‘Well, Skull and Hemlock aren’t going to smoke us out because we’ve found the amulet and – and . . .’
Moll uncurled her fist to show the glowing amulet, but her words crumbled into silence. And what? What did she think they’d be able to do with a necklace against the power of the Shadowmasks?
But Wisdom, Domino and Noah were staring at the amulet now, transfixed.
Wisdom straightened himself up, running a hand over his ponytail, and then he noticed the carved shapes of the silver stags all around them. He looked at Moll. ‘You’re right. Skull isn’t going to smoke you out, Moll, because these stags and that amulet are worth ten times the power of the Shadowmasks.’ His eyes shone. ‘We got a chance now, Pa, haven’t we?’
Oak nodded. ‘Are all the camp safely away from the clearing?’
‘They’re up in the Sacred Oaks already,’ Noah said. ‘Most are armed with daggers and Jesse’s got a pistol. When Skull comes, they’ll let him have it.’
Oak took a deep breath. ‘Then we’ve got to go fast because I won’t let my camp fight Skull alone.’
Siddy glanced at Moll’s and Alfie’s daggers, then he tapped Oak’s back. ‘I haven’t got anything to fight Skull with.’
‘You can borrow my catapult,’ Moll replied, handing it to him, along with a sharpened stone she’d kept tucked in her pocket since the night she’d been rescued from the heath. ‘If the rocks are sharp and the aim’s keen, it’s as good as a dagger.’
They turned from the wall of stags and Moll threw a last glance at the carved wildcat, hoping that somehow, somewhere, her pa would feel it. Using the light from the amulet to guide them, they sped through the chamber, raced up the staircase, then hauled themselves out of the well.
The domed door was open just a fraction and beyond it there was darkness and silence.
Wisdom looked at his father. ‘We need to climb this oak – from there we’ve got a better position to fight.’
Oak nodded to his sons. ‘Use your daggers wisely on Skull’s three lads – to wound, not kill.’
Siddy felt for Porridge the Second and muttered a last goodbye.
Fear snaked round Moll’s throat. Inside the heart of the forest she was safe. But out there were Skull and Hemlock. And the Soul Splinter.
She thought back to her pa’s words: you’re not going anywhere in life without bravery. And, with that, she tiptoed towards the door and crept outside.
While they had been inside, night had fallen in the deserted clearing and the sky was full of stars. Gryff slunk in front of Moll and leapt up the Sacred Oak. Moll felt for the ridges, scoops and bulges in the bark and twisted up after him. The others followed, spreading out across the branches.
Moll clung to the trunk, her body trembling. In the distance, there were lights – and they were crossing the boundary, snaking through the river in a line of fire.
Oak clutched his dagger, then turned to his sons. ‘Skull, Hemlock and Gobbler are souls rotted in hell – do as you like with them. No one’s going to mind them gone from Tanglefern.’ He clasped each son by the hand. ‘Now split up among the branches and take aim.’
Moll shuffled out along a branch, but Oak grabbed her arm and yanked her behind him. ‘They can’t be allowed to see you, Moll. You’re to stay back. Understand?’
‘But it’s all because of me this is happening!’ she whispered. She felt for her pa’s dagger. ‘I want to help fight back!’
‘If we lose you, we lose everything, Moll: the forest and the Bone Murmur. That’s what this is about.’
And so, flanked by Gryff and Alfie and shielded by Oak, Moll could only watch as Skull’s gang drew nearer and nearer.
Oak cupped his hands to his mouth and let out an owl call. And, from eve
ry Sacred Oak around the clearing, owl calls answered. The camp knew Oak had come back for them and now it was time to fight.
Skull’s gang rode into the clearing, holding torches that blazed with fire. The scars marking Brunt’s face glowed in the torchlight and Gobbler’s running eye gleamed like a beetle. But what frightened Moll most, what made the blood course through her veins, was not the two masks lit up beneath the hoods.
It was the strange creature that prowled between the Shadowmasks.
It moved like oil, stalking into the clearing with blazing red eyes and a scaled body. It was no bigger than a hound, but the head that hung from its black body was the unmistakable face of an ape.
Oak gasped. ‘It can’t be . . .’
Moll’s face twisted with terror. ‘What – what is it?’
‘Cinderella Bull was wrong,’ Oak said. ‘Not all of Skull’s hounds woke up as harmless strays; this one woke as – as— ’ he gulped, ‘an Alterskin. Witch doctors are known for cursing the spirits of animals in their power – and when they curse their spirits they shift their appearance too.’ He paused. ‘This Alterskin will have a mind of pure evil now; it’ll do anything Skull commands.’
Moll clutched Gryff tight.
Gobbler hurled a torch towards the base of an oak and its light illuminated his broken smile. ‘Come out of the trees and fight!’
Within seconds, a path of fire had ripped through the undergrowth and Skull’s gang cheered. Oak’s gypsies leapt higher within the trees.
‘Hand over Moll and her wildcat or we’ll see the clearing burned to the ground!’ Gobbler shrieked.
Skull’s boys spread out with Gobbler to face the oaks, where the wagons used to stand, but Skull and Hemlock hung back in the centre of the clearing with the Alterskin. They didn’t need to fight; their curses were stronger than daggers and torches. The Shadowmasks’ heads were bowed and their Dream Snatch flooded Moll’s body, tearing through her with thuds of loathing.
We know you’re up there, Moll Pecksniff. You and your wildcat. There’s no escaping us now. Give yourself up and all this will stop – all of your camp will be spared.
Blood pounded in Moll’s ears.
Your parents tried to fight us, but what good did it do them? If you don’t surrender, we’ll kill Oak . . . We’ll torture the women . . . We’ll tear the children apart . . .
Moll gripped the amulet, willing herself to be strong. But it no longer glowed and, hanging round her neck, it looked like nothing more than a small lump of metal. Doubt crept in as the Dream Snatch beat louder. Perhaps the amulet had never been magical at all. Beside her, Gryff was clasping the branch with his claws, shaking his head from side to side.
Sensing his panic, Moll stretched out a hand and squeezed his leg. ‘Fight it with me, Gryff.’
The wildcat burrowed into her chest, his body shuddering.
Gobbler and Brunt had lowered another torch to the foot of an oak. Gobbler’s hunched back swelled in delight as the flames crawled upwards, crisping the leaves to rust. More gypsies jumped within the branches.
‘Give Moll and the wildcat up and your forest will be spared!’ Gobbler shouted. ‘What hope have any of you got against the Shadowmasks? Who’s going to answer me that?’
And then Jesse emerged, darting out on to the branch of a burning tree.
Siddy gasped. ‘Pa!’
‘I’ll answer you that, Gobbler!’ Jesse hurled down a dagger.
It shot through the flames and sliced keen into Gobbler’s neck. Gobbler yelled out in pain, his back humping over his face as he slid from his cob to the ground. He crawled a few steps towards the edge of the clearing, his running eye wild and wet, and then, after a few moments, he was still.
Skull looked up from his chant. ‘Torch it to the ground,’ he snarled.
Like unseen acrobats, the gypsies leapt within the oaks, from branch to branch, from tree to tree. Daggers showered down towards Skull’s boys, but they sidestepped on their cobs, hurling their torches at the trees. The clearing blazed orange, a graveyard of scorched undergrowth.
Brunt urged his cob forward, towards Jesse’s tree. Realising his ma and baby sister would be tucked up with his pa, Siddy fumbled for his catapult and drew it out. Roaring with fury, he pulled back on the pouch. The sharpened stone flew through the air and slammed into Brunt’s head. He cried out and tumbled backwards off his cob.
Two more knives hurtled through the air; one slammed into the leg of a tall, lanky boy with ruthless eyes and the other lodged in the arm of the last of Skull’s boys. He had a haunted look: purple, curled lips and dark shadows for eyes. The boys fell down off their cobs and stumbled between the roaring flames. Still more daggers showered down – towards Skull and Hemlock this time – but they dodged them with a sinister quickness, hanging back to perform their curse.
And, between them, the Alterskin’s red eyes narrowed.
Wisdom flung down another dagger, then looked to Oak, who nodded.
‘Stay here, Moll,’ Oak whispered. ‘So long as Gryff and Alfie are with you, you’re safe.’ And then he shouted out into the clearing: ‘Down from the trees, men!’
Oak’s sons, together with Oak, Jesse and Florence’s father, leapt from the burning branches, spilling into the clearing like a raging tide. Moll watched, aghast, as they darted between the flames, brandishing their daggers at Skull’s boys.
‘You’re outnumbered and you know it!’ Oak cried. ‘We’ll spare you all so long as you leave the forest and never return!’
Brunt was fumbling for something inside his waistcoat, then a pistol gleamed in the flames. ‘Let them have it, boys!’ he bellowed.
Several gunshots cracked into the air.
‘Wisdom, Jesse!’ Oak roared. ‘Use your guns to wound not kill!’
Moll watched in horror, and yet, as she watched, the figures, the flames and the cobs were all becoming a blur. She felt the heat from the fire burn inside her, growing with Skull and Hemlock’s chant. Her grip on the branch loosened, her balance wobbled, but Alfie seized hold of her. Beside them, Gryff’s fur was wet with sweat and his eyes were wild. But Moll was oblivious to Gryff now. All she could feel, all she could hear, was the Dream Snatch clamouring in her ears.
‘Leave Tanglefern!’ Oak yelled from below. ‘And we’ll spare you!’
Skull’s boys fought on, blind to Oak’s words. Oak jammed his leg into Brunt’s hand. The pistol dropped from Brunt’s grasp, but he lashed out blindly with his dagger. Oak leapt backwards, then raised his own dagger. Jesse scampered forward and grabbed the fallen pistol from the ground. He raised it up, taking aim at another boy, but the boy ducked behind a tree.
Brunt jabbed his dagger at Oak’s face. Oak jerked aside, but the blade snicked his cheek. Blood trickled down to his jaw, yet still Oak jumped forward. Brunt was quick and he leapt aside. But Oak was quicker. He brought his dagger down on to Brunt’s arm and it sliced through his clothing. Brunt howled with pain.
Oak drew out his pistol. ‘Leave!’ he roared. ‘Or we’ll shoot you all dead!’
Brunt’s eyes were wide with fear and he faltered backwards. His jaw was shaking, but he raised his dagger again. Oak fired two shots into the ground before Brunt’s feet. They ricocheted off a fallen branch and spattered against Brunt’s shins. Brunt’s legs buckled beneath him and he cried out. He looked at the dagger in his hand; blood had dribbled down from the wound in his arm and was now smeared over the handle. Grimacing, he let the dagger fall to the ground and, clutching his arm to his chest, he limped away, out of the clearing, into the darkness.
‘Come back!’ Skull roared.
But Brunt had already disappeared into the forest.
‘He won’t come back for you!’ Oak cried to the last of Skull’s boys. ‘Leave and we won’t fight you any more! Find other lodgings and work; Skull’s dealing in a magic far darker than you realise!’
Skull’s boys stumbled backwards, clutching their wounds. Bent double and fighting for breath, they looked at each an
other with panic-stricken faces. Oak’s men gathered together in a cloud of anger, shouting and wielding their weapons. Beaten and bloodied, Skull’s boys heaved themselves away from the clearing. Skull and Hemlock kicked their cobs in pursuit of the boys, howling for them to return.
‘The Soul Splinter’s been summoned!’ Skull shouted after them. ‘You want to miss out on dark magic like that?’
The Alterskin flicked a glance up to the very branch Moll crouched on, then followed.
Moll blinked several times, trying to understand what she was seeing. They were winning, surely, but then why did everything in her body tell her that Skull and Hemlock were stronger than all of this.
The Shadowmasks were lost in the trees for a moment and, in the commotion, no one noticed Gobbler’s misshapen body haul itself up with a gun and take aim at the back of Oak’s head. No one except Alfie.
The barrels of Gobbler’s gun loomed like tunnelled eyes, but Alfie’s arm shot back and, with one eye closed, he hurled his dagger. It spun through the air, a glint of leather and metal, and sunk into Gobbler’s hand. The gun fell to the ground and Gobbler edged backwards, cursing. Alfie’s eyes widened in shock as he realised what he’d done.
As Oak’s camp fought to quell the flames, Skull tore back in the clearing, pausing for a second by Gobbler.
‘Help me,’ Gobbler rasped. And Skull fired his pistol into Gobbler’s heart.
He raised a cloaked arm and pointed at the branch Moll and Gryff crouched on. ‘That one,’ he hissed. Then he turned from the clearing and rode back towards the Deepwood.
Moll shook her head, burying it in her knees. ‘They’re calling for me, Alfie! Make it stop!’
Beside her, Gryff clung to the branch, his whiskers trembling, his growl weakened to a whimper. Then he threw his head back and yelped.
Alfie held Moll by the shoulders. ‘They’ve gone, Moll. It’s just us!’
Moll shook her head, her body rigid with fear. ‘They’re here, Alfie. They’re here!’ She shuffled nearer to him.
The Dreamsnatcher Page 18
