by Robin Jarvis
“I don’t like this,” one of the younger girls whimpered.
“Don’t be scared,” Maggie reassured her, trying to sound as if they weren’t being held at gunpoint, deep inside a mountain in North Korea, where the lights had gone out. “It’s just a glitch. They’ve probably not paid their leccy bill.”
“Be silent!” Eun-mi commanded. “People’s Army engineers will fix.”
“That wasn’t a surge or a blown fuse,” Gerald told her. “Something else is happening here, can’t you feel it?”
“It’s getting colder,” Nicholas said, huddling up to Esther.
“Nobody move!” Eun-mi demanded. Then she too shivered and the gun trembled in her hands.
A blast of freezing air had squalled in from the corridor. They heard a door slam, followed by echoing footsteps.
“It’s just the door to the terrace,” Maggie said, although it sounded nothing like that door.
Even Eun-mi held her breath as they waited and the steady, measured footfalls drew closer. There was a predatory menace to those steps.
“Who’s out there?” Sally asked fretfully.
Eun-mi wanted to twist round and look, but she felt the threat of that approach and the hairs on the back of her neck lifted as gooseflesh spread up her spine. For the first time since the death of her mother, she felt afraid and didn’t know what to do.
Then, very softly, in the corridor, a voice began to chant. It was a young child’s voice, slowly reciting the first two words of an English nursery rhyme.
“Itsy bitsy…” it repeated over and over. “Itsy bitsy…”
“Nabi!” her sister declared with overwhelming relief. “Nabi!”
Taking her eyes off the refugees, she stepped back through the doorway and looked along the corridor. Maggie and the others watched a furrow form across Eun-mi’s forehead. Something was wrong.
“Itsy bitsy…” the voice continued.
Eun-mi saw the six-year-old walking slowly from the prohibited area. Before her, she carried a silver wand as though it was a standard. Her face was lit by the pale golden light radiating from its amber star. When she passed the door to Lee’s room, she halted. Her large eyes were glinting but glassy – and so were those of the creature that sat upon her head.
Eun-mi caught her breath. It was a large, spider-like shape, its fang-filled mouth resting on Nabi’s brow.
“Itsy bitsy…” the little girl intoned.
At first Eun-mi thought it was alive, and she nearly sprang forward to tear it away. But then she saw its spindly legs dangling limply around Nabi’s shoulders and knew it was dead. That made it worse somehow. Nabi had placed it there willingly. It was macabre and repulsive. Before Eun-mi could think of what to say, other figures emerged from the darkness at the end of the corridor.
It was Doctor Choe, her two technicians, the guards, and the female who had been stationed on the terrace. Behind them came something else.
Eun-mi’s lips parted and she cried out in horror and disbelief.
“Nabi!” she called urgently. “Come here, hurry! Get away from that!”
Within the refectory, the Westerners had no idea what she was seeing. They had never known her react to anything like this before. It alarmed and unnerved them more than staring at the barrel of her gun.
“What is it?” Gerald asked. “What’s out there?”
She did not hear him and a new sound prevented him asking again. It was the clip-clopping of hooves on concrete. Eun-mi swung the pistol round and aimed it down the corridor.
“Nabi!” she cried again. “Move away! Come to me.”
“Chung Eun-mi,” a female voice called to her. “Put away your gun. There is naught to be afraid of.”
The refugees recognised it immediately.
“Doctor Choe,” Maggie whispered.
“Yes,” Gerald breathed. “But listen. She doesn’t have an accent any more. Her English is perfect.”
Eun-mi stared at the doctor incredulously.
“What is that?” she demanded, shaking her head in confusion at the shape that walked beside her. “What is it?”
“A wondrous beast from the true Realm,” the doctor answered. “It has come to guide you, to guide us all there. This is but a dream and we have tarried here too long. Nabi has seen the blessed truth, now you shall also.”
The doctor began reading the familiar opening paragraph of Dancing Jax.
“Oh, God,” Maggie uttered. “DJ’s here. It’s got her.”
“Don’t let her read to you!” Gerald shouted to the girl in the doorway. “Stop her!”
“Put book down!” Eun-mi ordered fiercely. “Down or I fire!”
The doctor ignored her and the guards and technicians joined in, their voices filling the corridor. Little Nabi added to the intoning chorus.
Maggie and the others looked at Eun-mi anxiously. How long could she hold out against the power of Austerly Fellows’ infernal words?
“Do not make me do this!” Eun-mi warned.
The chanting and the menacing advance of the hooves continued. Eun-mi closed one eye and fired the gun. The shot thundered throughout the corridor, followed by a weird, unearthly bellow that made every heart thump faster.
Unable to sit still any longer, Gerald leaped up and ran to the door. He had to see what was happening out there. Maggie tried to call him back, but the old man joined Eun-mi and gasped at what he saw. Another bestial cry trumpeted and the other refugees scrambled to the furthest corner of the refectory and hid beneath the tables. With her heart in her mouth, Maggie edged to the doorway.
Gerald was reaching down for one of the rifles. Eun-mi didn’t stop him. Peering past them, Maggie had to fight to stop herself screaming.
“The Ismus said Malinda’s wand wouldn’t work in this world,” she cried fretfully. “‘Just a pretty stick,’ he said.”
“Austerly Fellows and the truth don’t mix,” Gerald told her, grimly flicking up the safety catch as he took aim.
At that moment there came a roar of engines, and four military jeeps sped in from the main tunnel. Their headlights flooded the corridor with harsh light and General Chung Kang-dae jumped out, pistol at the ready. Yet the orders to his men died in his throat when he beheld the scene before him and he struggled to take it in.
There was Eun-mi, pointing a gun at her own people. The white-haired Englishman was next to her, an automatic rifle in his hands. Beyond them, in the line of fire, were his beloved six-year-old daughter, Doctor Choe Soo-jin and five base personnel. Had Eun-mi gone mad?
He was about to scream at her when another bellowing screech resounded and he finally realised what the strange shape next to the doctor actually was. At first he’d thought it was merely the peculiar skull on the stick, but now he realised it was more than that, much more.
Caught in the dazzle of the headlights, every shiny bone was gleaming. Vertebrae had replaced the stick.
“Kirin,” he whispered.
Behind him, the General’s men uttered cries of dismay when they too saw the unicorn’s complete skeleton pawing at the ground with dainty, bony hooves. The dark, empty sockets of the grinning skull angled round to gaze at them and the teeth champed together, causing the tuft of reddish beard still attached to the jaw to flick and swish.
Then it bellowed again.
Gerald opened fire.
The rifle sprayed light and noise. Eun-mi rushed to drag her sister to safety against the wall, swiping the dead Doggy-Long-Legs off her head with the back of her hand and wrapping her arms round her.
The horned skeleton reared, paddling the air with slender forelegs. The bullets bounced off the white bones like dried peas. Then it stamped and kicked and gave an unearthly scream as it charged. Gerald leaped aside, but he wasn’t quick enough. The unnatural creature crashed into him. The old man was flung into the air, as easily as one of Maggie’s stuffed toys, and hit his head on the concrete when he fell. The unicorn galloped over him, stampeding towards the General’s stupefie
d troops.
With its macabre head lowered, it rampaged into their midst. Screams and shots erupted as the unicorn slaughtered every soldier in its path. The single, tapering horn went slashing through the uniform of the People’s Army, impaling hearts and ripping out lungs.
The bravest tried to surround it. They wrenched at the exposed ribcage, shoving their rifles inside, using them as levers to try and snap it apart. But the ferocious skeleton was too strong for them. Its limbs lashed out and it spun round wildly. Moments later, those men were on the floor, their heads torn from their shoulders. Hooves kicked out and headlights smashed. The corridor collapsed back into gloom and Doctor Choe Soo-jin continued reading aloud.
The surviving soldiers drew away from the unicorn, retreating between the jeeps. It went stalking after them. Then, one by one, they dropped their weapons and began rocking backwards and forwards, their lips mumbling in time with the doctor’s. The skeleton tossed its blood-dripping head and tapped the ground as if applauding.
Standing in the centre of all this, General Chung stared around, aghast. He saw the dismembered bodies of his men and the nightmare apparition now dancing over them. He saw the entranced, smiling faces of the doctor and those with her. Then his dumbfounded gaze took in the old Englishman, lying deathly still, with Maggie crouched at his side, tearfully calling his name. Finally he saw Eun-mi, shielding her sister from the surrounding horrors.
Shakily, the General stepped towards them. His head was buzzing and felt light and giddy. A cold breath blew on the back of his neck and the corridor seemed to peel away, revealing the blue sky of a summer day where the towers of a white castle rose tall and majestic.
General Chung yelled in protest and he was in the corridor once more. The words of the book were burning inside his mind, consuming his will and strength. He clenched his teeth and swayed unsteadily. He had to fight it, he had to resist. He had to stop the destruction of everything he was, stop that overwhelming, leaching force.
Raising a quaking hand, he shot Doctor Choe Soo-jin through the head. She dropped like a stone. At once, and without blinking, one of the guards with her picked up the accursed book and continued reading from where she had left off.
Shafts of sunlight came breaking through the crackled paint of the ceiling. Birds were singing in the trees. The General’s shoulders sagged and his legs bowed. The infernal words were raging through his brain.
His thick eyebrows clashed and he snarled in agony. The torment of resisting was unbearable. Shrieking, he snatched up Gerald’s discarded rifle and emptied the magazine into the guards and technicians. He had to silence the words. He had to save the Republic from the contagion of this foul, Western disease.
Breathing hard, he let the AK-47 fall. But the words had not been silenced. A single voice was still reciting the opening passage from Dancing Jax.
Once more the paint flaked from above and sunlight came streaming in. He heard a lute playing and happy voices singing.
“No!” he raged.
The General threw off his hat and clawed his scalp. He would not be able to resist much longer. Desperate and driven half mad, he turned to that one remaining voice and raised his pistol to silence it.
Still held tightly in Eun-mi’s arms, Little Nabi’s glassy, doll-like eyes stared back at her father as she chanted Austerly Fellows’ bewitching words.
General Chung lurched forward and pressed the gun to her young forehead.
“Stop!” he ordered. “Stop!”
Eun-mi could not believe what he was doing.
“No, Father!” she begged.
“Stop!” he repeated when the six-year-old continued as if he was not there.
Terrified by his insane, murderous expression, Eun-mi covered her sister’s mouth and implored him to put the pistol down.
The General glared at her. There was a demented light in his eyes and she hardly recognised him. His nostrils quivered and he sniffed her suspiciously. Why was she not affected? Why was she still in control? Couldn’t she hear the songbirds? Couldn’t she feel the sunshine beating down? How could she stop her feet from skipping to the merry tune of the minstrels? All the other young maidens were cavorting on the green with their gallants. What was she? Why was she different?
“Ab… b… aberrant,” he stuttered thickly and he began to growl.
“Father!” Eun-mi wept.
“I am the Six of Clubs – head bowman of the outer wall!”
“No, Father! Come back to us!”
The sunlight dimmed and the man shivered. He moved the gun from Nabi’s head and put it against his own. This was the only escape for him.
“Don’t!” Eun-mi yelled.
Reaching out to him, her other hand slipped from Nabi’s mouth. The six-year-old instantly resumed spouting Dancing Jax.
General Chung’s face contorted. In an unhinged fury, he rounded on Nabi again. The barrel of the gun pushed against her temple and his finger closed over the trigger.
“Father!” Eun-mi screamed.
A single shot blasted out.
Cowering with terror and filled with despair, Maggie was nursing Gerald’s head in her lap. He was deathly pale and it was too dark to tell if he was breathing. With jittery fingers, she fumbled for a pulse, but couldn’t find one. The gunshot cut through her desolate sobbing and she turned to see General Chung Kang-dae slump lifeless to the floor. A thin wisp of smoke was rising from Eun-mi’s own pistol.
Eun-mi’s eyes were wet and sparkling, but she appeared frozen and unaware of what she had done. Then, slowly, she tilted her head and stared at the weapon in her hand. At that moment nothing else existed for her, just the gun and the painful scratch of her own voice as it tried to howl.
Nabi disentangled herself from her grasp and stepped casually over their father’s body.
“I am the Five of Spades,” she chirped dreamily. “I am naughty Posy, the Constable’s daughter. I spy on everyone in the castle and know all their secrets. Blessed be.”
The six-year-old retrieved the copy of Dancing Jax from the dead guard then strode past her trembling sister, to join the unicorn and the soldiers who were anxious to hear more of the sacred text. Little Nabi greeted them with a gurgling laugh. Cheering, they lifted her on to the skeleton’s back and she rode haughtily through the tunnels – towards the main concourse and the booth that housed the microphone for the tannoy system.
In the refectory, the other refugees finally dared to creep from under the tables and ventured to the doorway. With horrified faces, they looked out at the carnage in the corridor.
Maggie was huddled over Gerald, stroking his forehead – bereft and grieving.
“In fields where they lay,” she sang in a halting, tuneless whisper, “keeping their sheep. On a cold winter’s night that was so deep.”
The girl wiped her streaming eyes.
“Goodbye, Gerald,” she sniffled. “You’re safe now. Safe from DJ. Reckon I’ll be seeing you soon. We’ll have a merry Christmas then, won’t we, eh? Me, you, my Marcus and Charm. Give them my love and don’t start on those chocolate mincies till I get there. Promise me now.”
Throughout the mountain base the tannoy crackled into life and little Nabi’s voice began to read…
9
LEE WAS JOLTED AWAKE. His four guards were yelling and shaking him roughly. He looked up and found himself lying on the ground, with them standing over him. Their young faces were angry, fearful and wrought with panic. Shouting at him in Korean, they pulled on the chains attached to his wrists and forced him to sit upright.
“Quit that!” the boy barked at them, giving the chains a vicious tug back that almost wrenched the nearest guard off balance. “Give me a second to wake the hell up. I feel like crap.”
Ignoring their continued cries, he looked about. It was a deliciously warm afternoon and they were in a forest. All around them, the leaves were intense shades of gold, red and orange and the sky was an unbelievable blue. Beneath the branches, fallen chestnut casings
were in abundance, split open – displaying cream-coloured flesh and the fattest, shiniest, chocolaty-brown fruits. A faint and delicate scent of sweet-smelling woodsmoke laced the air, combining with the damp must of rich, fertile earth. Early autumn in Mooncaster was a ravishing feast for the senses, just like every season here.
Lee felt nauseous. This time the crossing had been different. He still felt groggy and exhausted and bile burned the back of his throat. Remaining seated, he shifted around and saw that the trees stretched far into the distance in every direction. Whatever forest this was, they were deep in the middle of it. He had no idea exactly whereabouts in Mooncaster they were. There was no landmark in sight to help him.
“Don’t matter,” he told himself. “We ain’t hangin’ here longer than we have to.” But he wasn’t looking forward to the trip back if it was as rough as the journey getting here. His innards felt like they’d been put through a blender.
Looking up at the guards’ rifles, he hoped Gerald had removed the real versions from their sleeping selves back in North Korea and was making good use of them this very minute.
“Tough if he ain’t,” Lee said aloud. “Cos we is outta here.”
Rising to his feet, he tried to get the guards to calm down.
“Hey, Sporty!” he said, calling them by their Spice Girl nicknames. “Enough with the whinin’, and Scary, if you nudge me with that rifle butt one more time, I is gonna leave you here, I swear to God.”
The guards waved their arms and continued to shout.
“Yeah – yeah,” Lee said. “It’s mad, it’s off the hook, but stressin’ out and boohoos won’t do no good, ladies.”
Suddenly, close by, there was a furtive rustling. The guards leaped around in alarm and ‘Baby Spice’ opened fire. The autumnal peace erupted with a blizzard of bullets that went ripping through the undergrowth and a tree trunk splintered as lead hammered into it. A red squirrel fell from a branch and another half-dozen shots made it jump and twitch before the nervous guard realised what it was and ceased firing.
The others stared across at the thoroughly dead animal, then began to snigger in embarrassment. Their shared tension had been released and they gave Baby teasing punches on his arm.
