‘I, on the other hand, think my skills might be needed to escort this group back to your warren in the forest,’ said Vetch. ‘I’m no good at fighting Gorm, but I can sneak and hide well enough. I know a little healing too.’
The others didn’t bat an eyelid at this, as if they expected it anyway, but it made Podkin wonder about the ginger-furred rabbit. Missing – probably hiding – when the fight was raging, jumping at the first chance to run off … Vetch was a coward, and a sneaky one too. He’s only trying to survive, Podkin told himself, but it still didn’t seem right. Not when the rest of them were just as frightened, yet determined to carry on.
‘Very well,’ said Zarza. ‘The lop and Vetch will take the farmers to safety. The rest of us will push on to Applecross. We leave in five minutes.’
There were a few moans from the farmer and his family, but they mostly had to busy themselves packing whatever they could get their hands on.
Mash finished his bandaging, and fashioned a crutch for Tansy out of an old broom. She told them the secret way into Applecross with as much detail as she could manage. Podkin listened in, hoping it would be enough.
They took the chance to restock their packs from the farmer’s pantry, and then – all too soon – they were outside again, ready to head off into the darkness.
Podkin made a point of not looking at whatever remained of the Gorm. From the corner of his eye he could see that the vines and tendrils had already withered and shrunk, leaving behind piles of brown leaves and rusted iron. There was a foul, metallic stink in the air that made him want to hurry away from the farm as quickly as possible.
There was only time for a brief farewell. Crom gave Tansy a hug and a gentle pat on the shoulder. Vetch tried to give everyone a limp handshake, smiling and smirking away to himself. Podkin resisted the urge to wipe his paw clean afterwards.
And then the two groups parted. One off into the Gorm-filled unknown, the other back to the deep tunnels and warm firesides of Dark Hollow. Podkin watched the others fade into the night, thinking of his mother and Brigid.
As stupid as it sounded, he half wished he’d been injured in the battle too.
CHAPTER NINE
Applecross
March, march, march. On through murky blackness, for a night that seemed as long as all time, constantly expecting more Gorm to jump out of nowhere. Every time Podkin closed his eyes, he saw Zarza lifting off that helmet again. He saw the red staring eyes, the scabs of metal eating through the fur, the poisoned veins pulsing with rusted blood. He didn’t know what was more terrifying: the thought of the Gorm themselves, or that ordinary rabbits – himself, even – would be turned into those soulless monsters if nobody was able to stop them. If he wasn’t able to stop them.
Everyone was glad when the sky began to lighten for dawn. As shades of grey began to emerge around them, they saw they were near another cluster of trees. A bigger one this time, running alongside a huge stretch of empty ground. It wasn’t until the sky brightened further still that Podkin realised the emptiness was water. It was an enormous lake, reflecting the grey clouds above like a mirror.
They were safely in the woods soon after, and made their way down through the trees towards the shore. Podkin and Paz couldn’t stop staring at the water. They had never seen so much of it in one place before. It stretched from the gently lapping shallows before them, all the way to the horizon.
‘Woodcross lake,’ Yarrow said. ‘Once a peaceful, beautiful place. I’ve written several poems about it, if you would care to hear them.’
‘Perhaps later,’ said Crom, scowling. ‘How far are we from the island?’
Podkin looked along the shore and saw, maybe a kilometre away, a rough jumble of rocks poking out of the water, topped with a shaggy carpet of grass and bramble bushes. A solitary standing stone jutted up at one end, catching the first rays of the sun.
‘Not far,’ he said. ‘I can see it quite clearly.’
‘Then we should be just north of Applecross,’ said Crom. ‘Keep well inside the trees, everyone.’
‘What do we do now?’ Podkin asked. He hoped the answer would have something to do with sleeping, and perhaps a bit of food.
‘We wait for night,’ said Zarza. ‘And we plan our attack.’
*
Podkin slept most of the day away, or at least tried to. Paz, Pook and he lay curled amongst the roots of a tall hazel tree, looking up at the branches above. He loved the way the light shone down through the fresh green leaves, making speckled patterns as they overlapped each other, gently moving to and fro in the breeze. It was like lying on the bottom of a green pond, looking up through the ripples. As he slipped in and out of sleep he had many strange half-dreams about talking fish and swimming birds.
Later, they ate a light meal of foraged watercress and primrose leaves that Mash had found. Crom got them to help sharpen all the spears and swords again, and Yarrow taught Pook a children’s rhyme or two. It seemed like the longest day Podkin had ever known. Part of him wanted night to fall quickly, so they could get the horrid task of sneaking into Applecross over and done with, and part of him wanted to stay in this soft, quiet, green-lit woodland forever.
And through it all Zarza sat in the top branches of an oak tree, looking out towards Applecross warren. Silent and motionless, like a bird of prey waiting for its dinner. Somehow it made Podkin even more nervous.
‘Will there be lots of Gorm in the warren, do you think?’ he asked Paz, for the fifth or sixth time.
‘I keep telling you, Podkin: I. Don’t. Know. I didn’t know ten minutes ago, and I still don’t know now.’
‘There weren’t any at Redwater warren, and that had been taken over.’ Podkin and Paz had run there after their own home had been invaded. The chieftain had been killed, his children kidnapped and the chief’s wife turned into a Gorm agent. It was where Podkin had lost his ear, and nearly his life, trying to escape.
‘There weren’t,’ agreed Paz. ‘But they had left that horrid metal statue instead. It was part of Gormalech, I think. It helped call the Gorm when it saw us.’
‘Do you think there’ll be one in Applecross too? Do you think it will call the Gorm again?’
Paz took Podkin by the shoulders and pressed her forehead against his. ‘Look, Pod. I know you’re scared. I am too. Terrified. None of us wants to go in there – except Zarza, maybe – and we’re all worried about what we might find. But we have to do it if we want to keep ourselves and Mother and every other rabbit safe. So we just have to get on with it. We probably will see some Gorm, and they will try to get us. But we’ve seen them before and escaped, haven’t we? Besides, it’s not like we’re going into a Gorm-infested warren all on our own, is it? We’ve got two tail-kicking warriors with us, and a whole load of magical weapons. It’s the Gorm who should be afraid of us.’
‘Well said, Gift-bearer.’ Zarza had come down from her tree and walked up behind them without a sound. ‘Dusk is beginning to fall. We should get ready.’
‘Did you see any Gorm while you were watching the warren?’ Podkin asked. The bonedancer shook her masked head.
‘Two rabbits only, bringing food in from the fields. They looked normal, but sick, maybe. Weak.’
Podkin remembered Redwater again, and how the remaining rabbits were like shadows of themselves. The Gorm always left some people behind when they took over a warren, but not as free rabbits. They were slaves, made to gather food and obey their masters, never knowing when they too would be dragged off to be turned into metal-filled creatures.
‘We’re all ready to go.’ Crom was holding a freshly sharpened spear. Two bronze swords were sheathed at his belt, and his leather armour had been carefully coated with more black polish. Mash had his blowpipe ready, the pouches on his bandoliers stuffed with darts and bullets. Yarrow had his dark green cloak wrapped around him, the deep hood covering his jewelled nose. An extra pair of eyes peeped out from its depths: Pook was in there too, clinging to the bard’s neck.
&
nbsp; Oh whiskers, Podkin thought. This is it. We’re actually going into that place. He thought of his mother, waking up by the fireside in Dark Hollow and looking around for him. What if he never came back? Would she know what had happened to him? Would she be cross with him for leaving? Would she understand that he’d done it to keep her, and all the other rabbits, safe?
With silent prayers to their gods and goddesses, the rabbits made their way through the darkening woods towards Applecross warren.
*
They waited at the treeline until the first stars appeared in the purpling sky overhead. Podkin was pleased to see a huge white full moon rising, but then remembered that they were going into an underground warren. Moonfyre would be useless again.
In the sheath at his side, Starclaw gave a little shudder. Not me, though, it seemed to be saying. Podkin patted it, but knew that it would be useless too, if it came to a fight with the Gorm. If only it had the power to cut through their armour.
‘We go,’ whispered Zarza, and they headed out of cover, following the shore of the lake. Tansy had told Crom about a secret side entrance, one that should let them in to the tunnels on the outskirts of the warren, avoiding the longburrow where the Gorm were most likely to be. They made their way as quietly as they could, keeping low to the ground.
Luckily for them, rabbits didn’t leave sentries outside their warrens overnight. They didn’t need to – that was the whole point of being safe below the ground. It meant that the little group was able to get right up to the warren itself without having to worry about incoming spears turning them into pincushions.
Podkin had never seen a lakeside warren before. All the places he had ever visited had been in forest or woodland, where trees grew thickly above the entrance doors, their roots twirling down, in and around the burrows.
Applecross was out in the open, a huge mound of earth topped with grass and wildflowers. A ring of stones was spaced around the base, each one carved into the likeness of a rabbit. Simple, plumpbellied and prosperous figures with smiles and huge lop ears.
They approached the warren from the back, and so couldn’t see the entrance doors, but beyond the mound itself were the famous Applecross orchards. Neat rows of well-tended trees in fields fenced off with drystone walls. The lake’s water kept the ground here fertile and moist, and the fruit the rabbits grew was traded throughout all of Gotland. Or at least it was, before the Gorm came.
Crom was counting the little rabbit statues, brushing them with his fingertips as Mash led him around the perimeter. ‘… four, five, six from the lake. This must be the one.’
The two rabbits bent and lifted the statue. It swung upwards, along with a large square of grass, revealing a tunnel into the warren beneath. Lamplight spilled out, and Podkin could see steps leading down.
This is it, he thought, as Zarza drew her sword. She was first into the warren, followed by Mash, Crom, then Podkin and Paz. Yarrow brought up the rear, closing the trapdoor behind them.
They found themselves in a corridor, much like that of any other warren. Packed, whitewashed earth walls with little nooks for oil lamps. Paving slabs of granite and sandstone in a chequered pattern on the floor. Struts of wood supporting the roof here and there, carved with apples and pears. It was only the thought that a Gorm warrior could come striding around the corner at any moment that made it so terrifying. Podkin could feel his teeth beginning to chatter. He held a paw out in front of him and watched his fingers shake.
‘It’s all right,’ Paz whispered into his good ear. ‘I’m here with you.’ And she took his trembling paw in hers, squeezing tight.
‘Which way?’ Zarza hissed. In the underground lamplight, her eyes were lost in the hollows of her mask. She truly looked like some kind of skeletal beast, out hunting for flesh.
‘Tansy said the strongrooms were to the right and down. Cellars where they keep the cider. That’s the most likely place for prisoners.’
The bonedancer nodded, and headed off that way, moving as silently as a night breeze. They all padded after, Podkin wincing at how loud his feet sounded on the paving stones below.
What if the priestess isn’t in the cider cellar? His mind was racing. What if she’s dead already? What if they’ve taken her to a different warren to change her into a Gorm?
Starclaw crackled with energy, sensing his fear. Podkin drew the dagger and held it out in front of him, just like Zarza with her curved blade. It made him feel better somehow.
The corridor wound around what must be the edge of the warren, sloping downwards all the time. Podkin could feel the air becoming cooler, damper (were they going beneath the lake itself? What if all that water started pouring in on them?) He hardly dared breathe, waiting for the moment when they walked into somebody coming the other way.
Eventually, of course, it happened. Padding feet on the floor ahead, and Zarza suddenly pressing herself against the wall. Crom and Mash copied her, then Paz was yanking him back too. The footsteps grew closer and the flickering shadow of a rabbit appeared on the wall before them: two wavering ears reaching out as if sensing the way ahead.
The shadow’s owner was a few seconds behind it. Podkin had a glimpse of a hunched, tired-looking old lop rabbit – not Gorm, thank the Goddess – before Zarza leapt on him, crushing him against the far wall and doing something with her fingers to his throat that made him gasp and choke. His eyes bulged out of their sockets as the poor thing tried to breathe.
‘If you scream, you die,’ the bonedancer whispered. Judging by the look of terror on his face, the old rabbit was thinking a monster had him. Just like I did, Podkin thought.
‘Your priestess. Is she still here?’ Zarza loosened her grip on the rabbit’s throat, just enough to let him croak a reply.
‘Comfrey? Yes …’
‘Where?’ Zarza showed the rabbit her blade. ‘Quickly now. I haven’t killed anything today, and it will be midnight soon.’
‘In the temple!’ the old rabbit croaked, squirming as far away from the sword as he could. ‘Back there!’
He pointed back the way they had come, deeper into the warren. Podkin silently groaned. The deep, deserted cellars would have been so much easier.
‘How many Gorm are here?’ Crom asked. The old rabbit blinked up at him, probably wondering what a normal rabbit was doing invading his warren along with a skull-faced demon.
‘Three soldiers, I think. They come and go. Please don’t let your monster hurt me.’
‘She won’t, if you answer us well. Is the priestess still alive? Can she speak?’
‘I … I don’t know.’ The old rabbit was crying now. Podkin didn’t know if he was terrified or just heartbroken by what had happened to him. ‘They have her chained up with this thing. A lump of metal that moves and whispers. I think it’s changing her into … into one of them. But she’s been fighting it, even though it makes them angry. I’ve only been in there once or twice. It’s too horrible. Mostly I stay out of the way, down in the cellar.’ A sudden glimmer of hope appeared in the old rabbit’s face. ‘Are you here to save us? Will you kill the Gorm?’
He looked at Crom, pleading, but then Zarza twisted her hand at his throat in a certain way and his eyes snapped shut. His mouth sagged open and she let him go, watching him crumple on to the floor.
‘You killed him!’ Podkin was horrified.
‘Not dead. Asleep.’ Zarza shook her head at the little rabbit. ‘I’m not a monster you know.’
There are many rabbits who would disagree with you, Podkin thought, but for once he realised it was best to keep his mouth shut.
‘A whispering lump of metal,’ Yarrow said. ‘I’ve heard tell of such a thing from other rabbits.’
‘Yes,’ said Paz. ‘We’ve seen them before. At Redwater and the Gorm camp. We think they’re part of the Gorm’s god-thing. It speaks to them somehow.’
‘And it turns them into Gorm,’ Podkin added. ‘That’s what the one at the camp was doing, anyway.’
‘I could sense it,�
�� said Crom. ‘It had an evil power.’
Zarza made a gesture with her long fingers, a warding sign. ‘I too have heard of this. My goddess hates these things even more than the Gorm themselves. We must be quick, and very careful.’
They left the old rabbit unconscious on the floor, and changed their direction, heading up towards the temple. Podkin tightened his grip on Starclaw, remembering the writhing metal statues he had seen before and how they made his skin crawl. The Gorm were definitely trying to change the priestess into one of them. Had they arrived in time to save her?
*
The temple was usually built close to the longburrow, the heart of every warren. Applecross was no different, and they found the place easily enough, luckily without having to go through the longburrow itself. Apart from the old rabbit they had seen, the warren seemed deserted. Zarza had been stopping and listening at doors as she passed, always nodding and moving on. Could she hear rabbits inside? Or had the warren been all but emptied, the inhabitants used as slaves, shuttled off to camps like the one they had raided? Podkin stopped and listened at a door himself, but couldn’t hear anything.
The temple was to Estra, the Goddess, and its entrance doors were of elaborately carved wood. Somebody had hacked and chopped at the beautiful woodwork, as if trying to destroy it, but delicate trails of looping vines and apple blossom still peeked out from the destruction. Hours of painstaking work ruined by some monster with an axe. The sight of it made Podkin sad beyond words. Take the warren’s wealth and supplies maybe, but why destroy its beauty too? What could make someone so hateful and angry?
Zarza was at the temple door now, easing it open while Crom and Mash watched the corridor. Somewhere further inside the warren, voices could be heard. Probably the longburrow, Podkin thought, praying that whoever it was stayed where they were.
Seeing the coast was clear, Zarza slipped inside. They all followed, Podkin holding his breath, dreading what he would see.
The Gift of Dark Hollow Page 10
