The Crow was still for so long she wondered if its clockwork had run down.
‘Do you need winding up…?’
‘No.’ The Crow lifted its head. Suddenly it began to speak quickly, as if to get it over with.
‘I wasn’t a prince or a professor. I was a schoolteacher. I lived in a small village in a valley not far from here. It was about … two hundred years ago.’
‘TWO HUNDRED!’ Tomos stared.
‘About. And that’s one of the problems about the unspelling … I have to be careful I don’t just turn into a pile of dust … anyway, stop interrupting. Let me get on.’
‘I didn’t…’
The Crow silenced him with a glare. ‘So, I admit I was not the most handsome of men. A little lean, a little hook-nosed. But I had a sort of … dark dignity. I was respected. People looked up to me.’ It preened a feather, smoothing the barbs very carefully.
‘I’m sure you were,’ Seren said. She was fascinated. This had to be the true story, at last.
‘My name was Mordecai Marchmain.’
Tomos choked on a chuckle. Seren pressed both her lips together tight so she wouldn’t even smile.
‘That’s an unusual name,’ she said.
‘It’s a very old and distinguished family.’ The Crow drew itself up with pride. ‘We are certainly descended directly – in the maternal line – from Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffudd himself. So I may be, if you think about it, actually, a Prince of Wales.’
Seren nodded. It was important not to interrupt him now.
‘So … I … er … I was very fond of a young lady. She was the daughter of the local squire, and extremely pretty, though perhaps not the most clever of girls. Anyway, one day I was on my way to Llangollen for the day and I was unwise enough to ask her what she would like me to bring her back for a present. I expected her to say a brooch, or some trinket. But she asked for a white rose.’
‘Well, that’s not difficult.’
‘It is if it’s the middle of winter! There was snow on the ground, for goodness sake!’ The Crow shook its head. ‘I asked her to choose something else but she wouldn’t. She kept on that it was a test of my devotion and if I truly loved her I would get it and all that sort of nonsense. Now, of course, I would think her extremely foolish but then I was young and, er, rather in love.’
Tomos grinned at Seren. She frowned back.
‘Well, it was a difficult journey to Llangollen through the snow, and after I had completed my business, I tried the shops and markets there but, of course, there was no such thing as a white rose to be had for any amount of money. I bought her a box of truffles and set off back home. By this time, it was very late, almost midnight and snowing heavily. I had snow in my eyes and hair and on my face, and it was impossible even to see the way. After about an hour or so I found myself on a track deep in a gloomy wood. I came to a crossroads where four lanes met. There was no signpost, so I guessed and took what I thought was the right path. That was a mistake! Soon I was completely lost. I was trudging down tiny winding ways that seemed to lead nowhere but around on themselves as if I was walking in ever smaller circles. The snow was getting deeper. I was quite worn out, and rather afraid I would just die in that wood. And then, suddenly, there was a high stone wall, with a door in it.’
‘What did you do?’ Tomos asked.
The Crow fixed him with a glare. ‘What do you think, silly boy? I made my way to the door. It was banked with snow and brambles, as if no one ever opened it, which was not at all comforting. There was a bell-pull; I pulled it, but heard no jangle, and no one came. I was shivering and there was snow on my shoulders. I had no choice. So I…’
‘…opened the door!’ Tomos gasped. He was sitting up now, tense with excitement.
‘Am I telling this story or are you?’ the Crow snapped.
‘Sorry. You are.’
‘So keep quiet. Yes. I opened the door. I went in. And that’s when the strange things started to happen.’ It paused.
‘Oh, go on!’ Seren groaned.
The Crow shrugged. ‘I walked into summer.’
‘Summer?’
‘A summer garden. I stepped right out of winter into a glorious warm starry night. The garden smelled so sweet, and it was full of flowers. The trees were heavy with leaves and pollen, oak and ash and thorn. Bees and insects flitted between the branches. And a silver moon hung over a dark lake.’
‘Amazing!’ Seren muttered. She was really enjoying the story.
‘Indeed. So much so I found it rather hard to believe. Was I dreaming? I looked round and even called out but there was no sign of anyone. Outside the gate was the snowy wood. I turned back and, over the treetops, I could just make out the grey turrets of a castle. Now, in this garden there were some beautiful roses…’
‘I know! I know what’s going to happen!’ Tomos scrambled excitedly up onto his knees. ‘You…’
The Crow folded its wings. He looked mortally offended. ‘That’s it. I’m not going on.’
‘Please!’ Seren begged. ‘Please do!’
The Crow took a deliberate minute. It preened its ruffled feathers. Tomos fidgeted; Seren glared him to stillness. He had to let the Crow tell the tale. Or they’d never hear the truth.
Finally the Crow smoothed a last barb and said, ‘Well. The roses. I suppose it was wrong. I mean they didn’t belong to me. I would have left money, you know. I just wasn’t given the chance. Anyway, as you guessed, I did a most foolish thing. I took out my knife and cut a white rose, with a long stem and dewdrops on its petals.’
‘I knew it,’ Tomos whispered.
The Crow ignored him. ‘Immediately the gate in the wall behind me clanged shut. Thunder rumbled. Lightning flashed. All the flowers in the garden turned their heads to look at me. And the white rose in my hand began to sing.’
‘Sing?’
The Crow nodded. ‘That’s the only word for it. Not like a human singing. A pure, high, silvery song. A terrible lament. Like nothing I’d ever heard. I wanted to drop the rose immediately, of course, to throw it away. I actually tried. But my fingers were stuck to its stem.’
‘Gosh!’ Seren shivered. Suddenly the summerhouse seemed cool, as if touched with a sinister, silvery magic. She edged into the warm sunlight.
‘I couldn’t get rid of it. I shook it, then pulled at it with my other hand, but that was worse because now both my hands were stuck to it! And still it sang that terrible song.’
‘Were you scared?’
‘No. Not… Well…’ the Crow shrugged. ‘Maybe just a little. And then the owner of the garden came.’
Tomos lay on his stomach. Seren sat very still. They both knew something tremendous was going to happen next.
The Crow was still a moment, as if remembering. Then he said, ‘The lake was dark and the stars were glinting on the water. Ripples started to lap against the shore. I felt as if all the magic of the garden was being somehow gathered together; my skin tingled, my scalp shivered. And then, in complete silence, I realised that seven swans were swimming towards me out of the dark. Six of them were pure white, but the seventh, the one at the back, was deepest black. Its neck was long and graceful. Its eyes were glimmers of anger. And around its neck was a collar of sparkling diamonds.
‘I simply couldn’t move.
‘Then the Swan spoke.
‘She said, “Mortal. You have trespassed in my garden.” Her voice was cold and went through me like steel. “Who are you? And how do you dare to steal from the Midnight Swan?”
‘That was my chance. I should have explained, of course. Said sorry. Grovelled even, I suppose … but I was a very foolish young man. A little vain. Boastful. I have of course changed utterly since then.’
Seren nodded, solemn.
‘So I drew myself up, rather haughtily, and said, “Madam Swan. I had no idea this was your garden. But I assure you, I am prepared to pay for the rose.”
‘It was a bad mistake.
‘The Swan’s head darted ou
t at me. Its eyes were black with fury. “I don’t sell my friends, mortal. But yes, you’ll certainly pay for the rose. With your life.”
‘I wanted to step back, but it was impossible. I couldn’t move a muscle. The Swan heaved itself out of the water. It was enormous! It stood over me and spread its wings wide and they were so black! It was as if all the darkness in the world was in them. It stretched out its neck and hissed and all the other swans came and gathered about me in a terrible circle. I knew they would peck me to death in seconds so I shouted, “No! Wait. WAIT!”
‘I had no idea really what I was saying. But my remarkable brain must have been working because I gasped, “Don’t kill me! Let me bring you something instead! The thing you want most in all the world! Let me find it for you!”
‘The Swan drew back. It tipped its head. Those eyes! So powerful and strange. And for a moment I was sure I saw something else in them. A terrible sadness.
‘The swans waited.
‘I waited.
‘Suddenly the black Swan waved the others away. When they had rustled back to the lake I breathed a huge gasp of relief. “What I want most?” the Swan snapped. “How do you know what that is?”
‘“You can tell me, Majesty. Jewels, gold, anything, I can find them.”
‘It hissed a laugh of scorn. “A poor schoolmaster promising me such treasures.” It put its black eyes very close to mine and I shivered. “I have jewels. I have gold. But yes. There is one thing I want more than anything in the world.”
‘“What?”
‘“An Egg.”
‘“An egg?”
‘“It was my only child, just ready to be born. It was snatched from my nest a thousand years ago by the Tylwyth Teg. I was a white swan then, generous and kind. Now I wear black as my mourning robe.” She dipped her neck gracefully. “And I am no longer kind.”
‘I felt quite excited. This would save my life. “I’ll find it for you! Just let me go and…”
“You have no idea what it would cost you to find. But this is what I’ll do. I will let you live, but you’ll live as a bird. And the spell will only be broken if you bring me what I want.”
‘Before I could even jump away, it had pecked my hand with its beak. A cold, icy pain went through me. I felt the strangest sensation. My skin split and cracked, my fingers became talons, my arm sprouted feathers. I stared down in horror and screeched but the Midnight Swan had slipped back into the lake and it was swimming away. It looked over its shoulder at me. All it said was, “Bring me the Egg. If you can.”
‘I opened my mouth to cry out but it was shaped all wrong and all I could say was kek kek. My body shrank. My bones hollowed. My limbs shrivelled. Cogs and wheels whirred in my chest. A key sprouted out and clicked in my side. I spread my arms and they were wings. And I flew, above the lake, over the garden wall, away. All the way home.’
He looked up. ‘And that is how I came to be in this unfortunate situation.’
There was silence. Birdsong seemed to come back from a long distance. Seren said carefully, ‘Thank you for telling us. It must have been … difficult.’
‘I’m not proud of the episode,’ the Crow muttered.
‘The Egg of the Midnight Swan,’ Tomos said. ‘That’s going to be tricky. If They have it…’
‘Exactly.’
‘So, did you try to find it?’
‘Well, er … it’s difficult. With Them. I tried to find the garden again but I have never been able to. Wherever it is, it’s not in this world. So Enoch and I just went looking for cures.’ It sank into a sudden morose heap of feathers. ‘There aren’t any of those; I know that now. I’m going to be like this for ever and ever. I just know it.’
Seren jumped up. ‘No, you don’t.’ She went out of the summerhouse and sat on the steps, and the sun was hot on her face. ‘Don’t worry. We have that Box now. The Box of the Midnight Swan. It’s got to help us.’
‘A Box no one can open!’ The Crow snorted. ‘And if my superb intelligence can’t work that problem out, how can a silly girl and a nosy boy help?’
‘Hey,’ Tomos objected. ‘I’m not nosy.’
‘You are.’
‘I’m just interested.’
Seren hugged her knees. ‘Don’t worry about getting the Box open,’ she said darkly. ‘I’m on the case now and you know my methods, Watson. It will be … elementary.’
‘Really? And how – exactly – do you mean to proceed?’
She had no idea. But she wasn’t going to tell them that.
‘You’ll find out. Tomorrow.’
‘What happened to the young lady?’ Tomos asked suddenly, as if he had been thinking over the story. ‘The one who asked for the rose?’
The Crow scowled. ‘She married a farmer. And I dare say she deserved it.’
5
The green pen
Come to the party. Come to the Ball.
Come and see a girl not there at all.
Deep in dreams of a garden where roses sang sweet songs, Seren was woken by a sharp peck on her ear.
‘Ouch.’
‘Seren! Wake up!’
‘Go away.’ She rolled over sleepily and plunged back into a new dream of walking trees and talking snowflakes.
‘Seren. Seren! Open your eyes at once!’
There was a horrible, insistent weight on her shoulder, then another peck, this time harder. It’s Them! They’re here!’
Her eyes snapped open. She sat up so suddenly that the Crow toppled off into a heap on the bedclothes.
‘Where? Not inside the Plas!’
‘No.’ The Crow scrambled up, breathless. It held up a wing. ‘Listen.’
She kept absolutely still.
‘Hear that?’
It was a warm night, and her bedroom window was open. The room was shadowy. A few moths flitted and bumped against the dim ceiling.
‘I can’t…’
‘There.’
Yes! She could hear it now! The softest and strangest of sounds. Like a swarm of bees far off.
‘What is it?’
‘Voices.’ The Crow took off and swooped to the window. Its dark head was silhouetted against the panes. ‘Their voices.’
Seren slid out of bed and ran after it. She crouched down and peered cautiously over the sill. A bright shaft of moonlight glinted in on her fingers.
The lawns below were silvery, the trees masses of darkness. But there were lights. Small, eerie, greenish sparkles, hundreds of them, down by the lake.
‘Glow worms,’ the Crow sniffed. ‘Cheap sort of magic.’
Among the lights, figures moved, shadows flickered.
‘They’re dancing,’ Seren breathed.
Now she could almost hear the music, that beguiling faery music that made you tingle all over with fascination. It was so beautiful she wanted to stay there forever, but the Crow put both wings over her ears at once. ‘Close the window!’
‘But…’
‘Do what I say, you silly girl!’
Scowling, Seren slammed the window down. At once the music stopped. The eerie lights vanished. The moonlit lawns of the lakeside were empty.
She felt empty too.
The Crow paced, agitated. ‘I don’t like this! Why are They celebrating? What’s going on to make Them so happy? I mean, They don’t need much excuse for singing and dancing but… Has anything unusual happened?’
‘I don’t think so.’
The Crow shook its head, unsatisfied. Its jewel-bright eye glittered. ‘Something’s not right. There’s trouble. I can smell it.’
Hopping to the door, he said, ‘Come on. Bring a candle.’
Seren lit the candle hurriedly. Then she opened her bedroom door and peered out.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Downstairs.’
‘But They can’t get in…’
The Crow frowned. ‘Well, something’s giving me the shivers. Follow me. And keep quiet!’
Plas-y-Fran was sleeping peacefully. There wa
s no fairy music here, no danger. The white corridor with its cabinets of china and old portraits stretched out into dimness, slanted by shafts of moonlight from the high windows.
The Crow swooped away. Sighing, Seren hurried after it. This was such a fuss over nothing! They were safely outside, and the house was guarded by all Denzil’s horseshoes and hanging magic herbs. Everyone knew the Tylwyth Teg couldn’t get past such a strong defence.
Then something Denzil said came back to her with a shiver.
Unless They were invited.
She ran silently after the Crow to the landing and crept down the main stairs, the bannister curving in the dimness under the portraits of long-dead Joneses. She glanced up at their pale faces, the ladies with hair piled high and the gentlemen with guns and dogs. They watched her go by. The Joneses were her family now. But sometimes she wondered if the people in the portraits were thinking Who is that little girl in the nightdress? And why is she here, in our house?
She bumped into a vase on a pedestal and grabbed it hastily before it fell.
The Midnight Swan Page 4
