by Glen L. Hall
‘The Keepers came to me in the mouth of the Aln. Set your path to Warkworth and find me in Birling Wood. The Forest Reivers will come down from the hills seeking counsel. Your paths will cross.’
And then the swarm of pixels broke up and he was gone.
* * * * * *
Sam felt the solid floor beneath him and he was no longer riding waves of light and colour. The tapestry was blank, the tiny hummingbirds still. Then he heard a snap high above him.
A thin crack appeared on one of the giant panes that covered the glass dome of the reading room. There was another snap as a second pane cracked. Figures were scurrying backwards and forwards on the domed roof.
Sam stood in the middle of the room, both transfixed and terrified, watching as dark shapes thudded down on the glass far above him, opening up a myriad of smaller cracks.
Behind him the door opened.
‘Sam, I am to accompany you and Emily,’ Jarl began, then stopped as he followed Sam’s gaze. ‘What’s happening?’
‘There’s something up there.’
Without taking his eyes off the splintered panes, Jarl took Sam by the shoulder, twisted him round to face the door and led him out.
Back in the long corridor connecting the reading room to the spiral stairway, Sam watched Jarl close and lock the round door before racing off down the ill-lit corridor, seeming to forget Sam was there.
‘Wait!’
Sam hurried after him.
As they reached the spiral stairway, the air was filled with the noise of shattering glass. Whatever had been on the roof had broken through.
Sam stopped, eyes wide.
‘Leave it,’ Jarl snapped. ‘Come quickly.’
He disappeared down the spiral staircase at frightening speed.
Before he had hit the bottom step, he was shouting, ‘The reading room is breached!’
The professors and Emily were standing in the foyer.
‘Take Emily back to Sam’s house,’ Brennus said quickly. Then, without another word, both professors were running towards the staircase.
Sam felt Jarl’s grip on his shoulders, propelling him and Emily towards the back of the shop. At the back entrance, Jarl placed his key in the door and started turning it. Then he stopped.
‘What is it, uncle?’
But Emily’s uncle didn’t answer. Instead he quietly pulled the key from the lock and stepped back from the door.
‘Uncle?’
This time Jarl pressed a single finger to his lips, signalling to Emily to be quiet, before leading her and Sam back into the main foyer.
Shadows were moving against the blinds of the shop front. With one grim look in their direction, Jarl led Sam and Emily up the spiral staircase to the third-floor landing.
Sam was familiar with this floor. It was one long room with chairs of all shapes and sizes strewn haphazardly in all directions and dark shelves filled with second-hand books on ancient history.
Silent and unsmiling, Jarl marched him and Emily to the far end of the room, where a window overlooked the roofs and chimneys of the nearby houses. In the distance they could see the trees of Elgy Green. Somewhere between here and there was the safety of Sam’s house.
‘Stay here.’
There was an edge to Jarl’s words, a bluntness that froze Sam and Emily to the spot. They watched the big man limp back through the leather seats and worn chairs.
‘What’s going on?’ Emily whispered.
Sam hesitated. He didn’t want to scare her out of her wits. Then again, would she believe it anyway? How could he even begin to tell her about the tapestry? But at the very least she had to know what was happening now.
‘I think we are being attacked.’
‘Attacked? By who?’
Twilight was fading fast, throwing the long room into darkness. Sam shivered.
‘You know who. Or what. I’m not saying another word – I’m not giving you another chance to tell me I’m—’
He was struck dumb by the sight of the creature that pressed itself against the window. Without thinking, he pushed Emily away, onto a leather chair. It tipped over and they fell together, with his hand instinctively clasping her mouth. Upside down, they stared at each other in the darkness, their breath loud in each other’s ears. Then came the screech of claw against glass.
Any minute the black feathered creature would be in with them. Sam forced Emily to her feet and pushed her back from the window towards the stairwell. They stood in the dark corridor, listening to the distant sound of shattering glass.
Sam wasn’t sure whether to go up or down. He thought the noise had come from above, but other noises were starting to drift towards them, muffled shouts that were faint but disturbing. Still, there would be safety in numbers.
‘Quick,’ he whispered, ‘we’ll go up and join the others.’
With Emily now gripping his hand with a strength born of fear, he led the way up the staircase.
When they finally reached the seventh floor, he paused. The corridor was empty, but they could both hear desperate shouts from within the reading room.
‘Who are these people?’ Emily asked, her face pale.
Sam shook his head. There was no time to figure that out. He just had to get Emily to safety.
‘Is there any other way out of here?’
Emily nodded. ‘You can cut through into the other shops from the loft. It runs the full length of the street and brings you out in the Quaker meeting rooms.’
‘Where is it?’
This time it was Emily who led Sam, gripping his hand tightly as she pushed past a double door to a square loft hatch just beyond their reach.
‘Somewhere there’s a pole,’ she muttered, looking around frantically. Then, as further sounds of splintering glass reached them, she gave up and called, ‘Sam, lift me up!’
Sam didn’t waste a moment in lifting Emily’s slender frame towards the hatch. She hooked a finger through the metal ring and pulled. A plume of thick dust burst down on them, followed by a wooden ladder. Emily clambered up, with Sam only a second behind. He reached back and with a grimace pulled the ladder back up behind them and replaced the hatch.
Darkness and dust rolled over them. Emily coughed, then stuffed her hand over her mouth as muffled noises came from below. They grew closer, then disappeared. The corridor fell silent.
A single light bulb flared.
‘That’s better.’ Emily looked around her. ‘If I remember rightly, there’s a small wooden pathway that joins the lofts together.’
Just as she spoke, the bulb popped in a spark of light that sent flashes across Sam’s vision.
‘Oh no!’
Emily continued her search in the darkness. Every now and again there would be a screech as she bumped into something. Sam stayed still, steadying his breathing, trying not to think about what might be happening down below.
‘I’ve found it.’
Sam followed her voice, scrambling on all fours, his hands sinking into decades of dirt and grime. Unsure of where she was, he bumped into her. Just for a second she held him in the dark and he had the wild feeling that he was safe.
As his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, he realised they were both on a wooden ledge. Crawling on all fours, they made their way slowly along it, through the loft of the Seven Stories and then through a small dividing wall that separated it from the next building.
As they moved from one building to the next, Emily kept calling back to Sam, making sure he was all right. He was surprised by her bravery, although he knew she still didn’t fully appreciate their predicament. He was alone with that.
His options seemed more limited than ever. He couldn’t go back to Oxford and it was clear that he could no longer stay in Gosforth. Professor Stuckley wanted to take him to the Dead Water, but Oscar had warned him again
st it. Was that because the enemy was already there? Hadn’t Professor Stuckley mentioned that they’d let the enemy get ahead of them?
Sam sat back on his heels and shivered, despite the stuffiness of the loft. What was he supposed to do? He was running away again, but how could he turn and fight? He didn’t even know who the enemy really was. The thing he had seen at the window was different from the Shadow he had faced in Magdalen and he shuddered as he remembered its feathered face.
Pushing the thought aside, he set off again, only to hit his head on Emily’s behind. She had come to a sudden stop.
‘What is it?’
‘The ledge has come up against a wall. I think we are over the Quaker house. We just need to find a way down. There’ll be a hatch somewhere.’
They couldn’t see a thing, so there was no option but to run their hands through the matted woollen insulation of the loft. Every now and then Sam would touch something furry and dead and pull his hand back in disgust. Not far away, Emily couldn’t hide her distaste and kept letting out little screams that made Sam jump.
‘Can you stop that?’ he hissed.
‘I can’t help it. Hang on, it’s here.’
A blast of warm air met them as Emily raised a hatch and lowered herself down a flight of wooden stairs. They gave onto a short corridor that led to a grand staircase. Emily knew it well, as on her lunch breaks from the Seven Stories she would often go to meetings in the Quaker house. She swept down the staircase and on through the quiet house.
As she walked, her uncle’s face kept coming back to her. She’d heard his voice amongst the shouts in the reading room. There was starting to be something very real about this. She reached out and took Sam’s hand. It made her feel safe, but she also wanted to reassure him that he was not alone.
She led him on through a number of double doors until at last she brought them to the large oak doors that would lead them straight out onto the road. They were locked solid.
For a moment, Emily and Sam leaned against the doors, still holding hands. Emily had an unsure look on her face.
‘What is it?’ Sam asked quietly. ‘Don’t worry – there’s bound to be a window we can open.’
‘It’s not that. I’m scared. I saw the look in my uncle’s eyes earlier on and he was scared too. So I have to know – what are we involved with and who can we trust?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Sam admitted. ‘So much has happened in the last five days it’s all got jumbled up. But Oscar says we have to go to Warkworth, so that’s what I intend to do.’
‘Can you trust him? There are so many different opinions – someone has to be wrong.’
‘I know, but someone has to be right, and the Dead Water seems like a step too far. I don’t know where it is, or where Professor Stuckley is now, and I don’t know what Oscar meant exactly about history repeating itself, but I don’t like the sound of it. We both know Warkworth and we can always go and stay with your cousin Eagan.’
‘My cousin Eagan? He spends most of his time chasing fairies in the woods!’
‘That doesn’t sound too crazy after this week.’
Somehow, they both managed to smile.
THE GRIM-WERE
Once again Sam and Emily were drinking tea in Sam’s kitchen, this time in silence.
Despite his earlier words, Sam was inwardly debating whether he should take the advice of a man he had met only briefly or that of the professors who had saved him in the Fellows’ House. What had Ronald counselled in his letter? Beware of false prophets and wise men taking decisions based on fear? Was Professor Stuckley making such a mistake? Or was Oscar?
Emily kept opening her mouth as if to say something but then thinking better of it. What could she say? Professors Stuckley and Whitehart had said it all. Sam was being pursued by something that could not be stopped. There was something fantastical about it all, but she had just fled on her hands and knees from an attack on the bookshop, and who could tell where Brennus, Drust and her uncle were now? Where was Sam’s mother? There was definitely something going on and there was no longer a sensible way of denying that Sam was in the middle of it.
‘Do you still have the letter I gave you in the bookshop?’ Sam’s question interrupted her train of thought.
‘It’s here somewhere.’
She fumbled in her pockets and took out the envelope. Already crumpled, it was now looking even more bedraggled.
‘Read it out loud.’
She opened the envelope and drew out the letter, surprised by the elegance of the handwriting with its intricate loops and the fact that even though it was battered and faded, the insignia of Cherwell College could still be seen on the headed paper.
‘Look, Sam, there’s a tree here in a circle.’
‘Just read the letter, Emily.’
‘I know I’ve seen that somewhere before.’
‘Emily.’
‘All right.’
Emily took a deep breath and read:
Dearest Sam,
We hope this letter finds you well.
Oscar came to us again seeking counsel. He tells us you spoke with him using the Way-curves on the second night after you left Oxford. There is a chance that these words may not find you until it is too late. If you read them now then take great heed. Professor Stuckley will ask you to go with him to the Dead Water. The enemy knows you are taking this path and will be waiting.
There is a new threat that stalks your protectors. With the fading of the Fall, the creatures known as Grim-were have awoken in the Underland. They will await their mistress when the Dead Water is finally lost. The Underland is moving and the Otherland is again seeping into this world. You can ill afford to delay your departure.
The way ahead will sometimes appear to be the way back, but it will be the only way.
With good wishes,
Ronald
‘It’s completely different!’ cried Sam. ‘It bears no resemblance to the letter I read in the Eagle and Child!’ He paused. ‘So the enemy definitely knows I’ll be going to the Dead Water. I can’t go there.’
‘I thought you’d already made up your mind to go to Warkworth,’ said Emily, frowning over the letter.
Sam took it from her.
‘Listen, I’m leaving tonight and I think you should come with me.’
‘Sam, you can’t just pack your bags and go in the middle of the night! If you aren’t safe in your home, then how will you be safe travelling across Northumberland?’
‘Well, I’m not safe in Gosforth. The bookshop’s already been attacked. I’m not staying here, Emily, and neither should you.’
‘And where’s this going to end? Once we reach Warkworth, where then?’
‘I don’t know, but if I find Oscar, I’m sure he’ll be able to help. If the enemy is at the Dead Water, that’s our only option anyway. We pack, we get what sleep we can and we set off at first light.’
‘And how do you propose we get to Warkworth with all this going on? We can’t even travel to the bookshop without running into trouble.’
Emily was fanning herself with a cushion, her face flushed with worry.
‘We get the 6 a.m. train to Alnmouth and then it’s a five-mile walk to your cousin’s.’
‘And what do we say to my uncle and Brennus? Even supposing they’ve got out of the bookshop in one piece?’
‘Nothing. I don’t think we can trust anyone. Every time the professors have turned up, trouble’s not been far behind. And Oscar said there was a traitor.’
‘Oscar! What if he’s the traitor? What if he wrote the letter? What if he’s leading you into a trap? Wasn’t it Brennus and Drust who defended you in Oxford? You can see from their faces that they were in some kind of fight.’
Emily took a big gulp of tea and put her mug down rather hard. This was all sounding ridiculous again.
&nb
sp; ‘You’re making your decision off the back of a letter delivered by a stranger,’ she said anxiously. ‘Didn’t you say it was Oscar who introduced the idea of a traitor anyway?’
Sam sighed. Emily’s words only added to his confusion. He had yet to tell her about his conversation with Oscar in the tapestry. But her logic could be extended to that too. Suddenly he felt exhausted by it all.
‘I need my bed. I don’t know about you, but I’m so tired.’
‘So am I,’ Emily said, ‘but the letter tells you not to delay. If you are going to follow it, I don’t think you can pick and choose which bits you accept and which bits you ignore. If we’re going to Warkworth, shouldn’t we go now, after all?’
It was a rational argument, but all it did was make Sam feel even more tired.
‘I can’t think about it now. I’m sorry, I just need to sleep.’
‘You just don’t know what you’re doing,’ said Emily grumpily.
* * * * * *
They retired to bed, Sam climbing the stairs as if in a daze and Emily following on behind, heading for the spare room on the second floor as Sam climbed up to the third. He fell onto his bed with thoughts still going around in his mind. What if Oscar was wrong, what if he was the traitor and by not going with Professor Stuckley he was putting himself and Emily in danger? He fell asleep still in a whirl.
Emily was washing her face in the large family bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, she realised how tired she looked. It had been a long day.
It had been a long summer, for that matter. With her mum and dad fighting, she’d spent almost the whole summer staying with her uncle and aunt, either in Gosforth or their house in Warkworth. And she hadn’t even had chance to tell Sam about it – that was how crazy today had been.
Taking one of Sam’s old T-shirts from the airing cupboard to sleep in, she walked back down the quiet hallway, undressed and fell into bed.
Hours later, she woke, heart thumping. Faceless black creatures had been throwing themselves at the window. ‘It’s just a dream, Emily,’ she told herself.
