Storm Hound

by Claire Fayers

  ‘I thought we were going to keep the stormhound’s power for ourselves,’ Professor Ryston said, coughing and shifting nervously away from Storm. ‘I want a cure for asthma, remember.’

  ‘There will be plenty of power to go round,’ Utterby replied. ‘We can afford to be generous.’

  ‘But not too generous,’ Nuffield said. He pulled stray wisps of hair out of his moustache. ‘Maybe we could start with one student, someone to sweep the floors and wash the test tubes.’

  ‘Or someone to answer the phones,’ Ryston suggested wistfully. ‘Like a real college.’

  Silence settled like a weight. Abergavenny was far behind them, and the dark, broken shape of a mountain peak rose before them. Storm’s ears pricked. He recognized that mountain – it was where he’d fallen into this world. He strained to see out of the car window. If he was right, the road would be bending round when it got to the hills, and he’d see trees, and . . .

  A sheep wandered into the road, causing Professor Utterby to brake sharply. He sounded the horn, but the sheep didn’t move. Another one meandered out into the road, followed by another, and another. Storm struggled against the seat belt. One of the sheep looked in through the side window at him.

  Sheep, help! Storm barked.

  Professor Utterby turned off the car engine. ‘We have plenty of time. Let’s not hurry and spoil things. Nuffield, keep hold of the dog. Ryston, go outside and move the sheep.’

  ‘Why me?’ Ryston grumbled.

  ‘Because you’re the youngest and you’re supposed to do what your elders tell you. Jump to it.’

  Professor Ryston muttered words that even Odin would have considered rude, and opened the car door to get out. Storm tried to dash after him, but the seat belt tangled round his body jerked him back. Ryston slammed the door again.

  Storm lay panting slightly while Professor Nuffield hummed tunelessly, Professor Utterby drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and, outside, Professor Ryston chased sheep to and fro with his divining rods.

  ‘If it’s any consolation, young stormhound,’ Professor Utterby said, watching his colleague. ‘Your death will make a whole world of difference. To you as well, of course, but mainly to us.’

  My death isn’t going to happen.

  Professor Utterby was taking Storm exactly where he needed to go. All he had to do was escape once they reached the mountain and wait for the Hunt to come.

  As if in reply, a low growl of thunder ruffled the clouds. Outside, Ryston pointed his divining rods at the sheep and sparks flew out. The sheep bleated in alarm and scattered.

  Storm flopped down on the seat, looking as if he’d given up, as Ryston climbed back in, dripping wet.

  ‘We’ll have to walk the last part so you’d have got wet anyway,’ Professor Utterby said unsympathetically.

  He started the car again. Storm’s stomach lurched with the motion and with a strange mixture of hope and dread. If the Hunt didn’t come in time, this could end badly. Never before had Storm feared he might die. It should have squashed him, but, oddly, it made him feel bigger, more alive. Was this what it felt like to be mortal?

  CHAPTER 35

  Jessie charged through the rain with a bellow she barely recognized as her own.

  ‘Jessie, calm down,’ David said.

  ‘Calm down?’ She made a grab for Storm’s collar. ‘That’s Storm’s. What have you done with him?’

  David shook his head, his mouth half open as if he were trying to decide what to say – what lies to tell next. His aunt stepped back. ‘We do not have your dog,’ she said in a commanding tone. ‘You did not see us here. You will go back home and forget about this.’

  Jessie’s thoughts swam. She pushed Ceridwen’s hand aside.

  ‘You’re wasting your time,’ David said. ‘I told you, magic doesn’t work properly on her. We have to tell her the truth.’

  Magic. Jessie snatched Storm’s collar out of Ceridwen’s hand. ‘I already know the truth. You’re Ceridwen, the enchantress from the legend.’

  Ceridwen’s mouth set in a tight line. ‘Her descendant, actually. She should have been content with this world, but she wanted more. She wanted to know everything. In the end, she went too far. She created a potion that would grant the gift of all wisdom, and in doing so, she brought magic into the world, where it does not belong. Her descendants have been trying to undo her mistake ever since, to seek out magic and contain it.’

  ‘So when you guessed the professors were evil magicians and we are the magic police, you’re weren’t far wrong,’ David said. He looked down at his feet. ‘Sorry. I tried to keep you out of this. Ceridwen isn’t really my aunt. When she found me, she called me Morfran to keep the story alive, but I wanted a more normal name, so I chose David.’

  ‘She found you?’ Jessie echoed.

  David looked up at her, his eyes shining in the rain. ‘That’s the other thing,’ he said. ‘I’m not human.’

  He shimmered and vanished, and a large, white hare blinked up at Jessie from the pavement.

  Jessie screamed.

  ‘Morfran!’ Ceridwen snapped.

  ‘Told you,’ David said, turning back into himself with a smug grin.

  Jessie’s legs wobbled, but she clutched Storm’s collar, locked her knees and glared at the boy who wasn’t a boy. ‘Very impressive. Where’s Storm?’

  Ceridwen raised an eyebrow. ‘You said she was different. I think you might be right.’

  ‘Says the sorceress who travels around with a talking hare,’ said Jessie. She felt like she was back in her dream, full of lightning, ready to ride through anything in her way. ‘Storm is my dog. I don’t care what else the professors say he is. He’s mine. That means I’m responsible for him. Where is he?’

  Ceridwen gazed back at her, her expression hard as stone. ‘There are two worlds,’ she said slowly. ‘Our world and the Otherworld – the world of myth and stories and magic. Your dog came from the Otherworld. He must go back there.’

  David grinned; Jessie didn’t know why.

  ‘Professor Utterby said the magic of the Otherworld was more powerful than anything,’ she said. She jerked back from Ceridwen in sudden alarm. ‘That’s why they want Storm – they’re going to take his magic.’

  Ceridwen nodded, her face stern. ‘Morfran foolishly thought he could send the hound back to the Hunt without telling me. The professors snatched him. I don’t know where they are now, but they’ll be taking him to Mount Skirrid.’

  ‘Four o’clock,’ Jessie said, remembering the maps she’d seen in the staffroom. ‘I’m coming with you.’ Ceridwen started to scowl, and Jessie clenched her fists. ‘I’ll walk if I have to.’

  Ceridwen sighed, then handed Jessie Storm’s collar. ‘Even if we save your stormhound, he cannot stay with you. He belongs to the Wild Hunt. He must go back. Do you understand, child?’

  A sharp pain filled Jessie’s chest. To save Storm, only to lose him forever? She’d only had him two weeks; it shouldn’t hurt this much. She drew in an unsteady breath and swallowed back her tears.

  ‘I want him to be happy,’ she said. ‘He can’t be properly happy here when he belongs somewhere else.’

  Ceridwen gave her a look that was almost approving. ‘He will be himself with the Hunt. You should always let people be who they really are.’

  For a moment, her gaze strayed to David, then she frowned and turned away. ‘They’ll want to be on Skirrid’s peak when the storm is overhead so we have a little time.’

  Jessie followed her, wondering where she was going. ‘Are you really a hare?’ she whispered to David.

  ‘Really.’ He gave her a nervous grin. ‘I was the last of my litter. A fox got the rest of them. Ceridwen found me and decided to keep me. She saved my life, basically.’ The look he shot at his aunt’s back was filled with pride. ‘Of course, she’s not really my aunt, but we feel like we’re sort of family. She taught me how to transform and how to cast magic spells.’

  ‘What’s it like?’
Jessie asked.

  David shrugged. ‘It’s normal for me, so it’s hard to tell. I prefer being a boy usually, and Auntie Ceridwen prefers it too. She likes everything to fit neatly into one place – and I think she was probably breaking a few rules when she saved me.’

  Jessie looked at the tall figure striding in front. Ceridwen didn’t look like the rule-breaking type.

  ‘Why did she do it?’

  ‘Because I felt like it,’ Ceridwen snapped. ‘Or would you prefer I travelled this world, keeping all of you safe, entirely on my own.’ She walked to where her orange-and-black motorbike stood under a tree. ‘Let’s be clear,’ she said. ‘I’m not doing this for you. If it was up to me, I’d remove the stormhound from the mortal world the easy way. But, for some reason, Morfran seems to like you, so I’ll make an exception. Once, and once only.’ She handed Jessie a motorcycle helmet.

  David grinned and bounced on his heels.

  ‘Don’t expect me to come running the next time you get into trouble,’ Ceridwen told him. ‘You’d better change. There’s no room for the three of us as we are.’

  David shimmered and changed. Though Jessie stared, she couldn’t work out the exact moment when the boy became the hare. She tried to smile, but her face felt stiff with nerves. She took out her phone and sent a message to Dad: With David and his aunt. They’re helping look for Storm.

  Just in case something happened to her.

  She put on her helmet and swung her leg over the bike behind Ceridwen. David hopped up between them and wedged himself in.

  ‘Hold tight,’ Ceridwen said as the bike sped off.

  CHAPTER 36

  The professors’ car lurched to a stop at the side of a field. The sky was black with cloud by now, the air so thick with rain Storm couldn’t see out of the front window. He tensed, digging his claws into the seat. Professor Ryston wheezed and puffed on one side of him, and Nuffield sat on the other, studying a map. Storm had taken a bite out of it, earning himself a whack across the nose, which he added to the list of indignities punishable by smiting. It was getting to be quite a long list.

  But here they were – back where it had all started. Storm recognized the trees and the large sign on the other side of the road.

  Professor Ryston got out of the car and hauled a large bag out of the back. He returned with a chain, which he fastened round Storm’s neck. Storm had been prepared to run, but his legs suddenly felt as weak as clay. He tottered off the car seat and tumbled out into the rain.

  ‘Mountain iron,’ Professor Utterby said. ‘Mined at midnight, and containing enough magic to control even a full-grown stormhound, let alone a puppy like you. It should keep you quiet. Ryston, do you have the apparatus?’

  Ryston shook the bag at him. Several items inside clinked. Storm saw the outline of something sharp through the material. A knife, maybe? He shuddered and staggered back to his feet, shaking rain from his coat. Even this effort left him breathless.

  Utterby took hold of Storm’s chain. ‘Lead on, then, Nuffield.’

  They set off across the field, Utterby keeping a tight grip on the chain and tugging on it every time Storm stumbled.

  The hill grew steeper and the grass of the field gave way to trees. Sheep ambled around the trunks, not interfering as the three men and the dog climbed the slope, but keeping an eye on things.

  Don’t feel baaaaaaad, one of them bleated to Storm. All’s wool that ends wool.

  Professor Ryston tripped on a tree root.

  ‘Be careful with the equipment, will you?’ Professor Utterby snapped.

  Ryston dumped the bag down. ‘You carry it if you’re that worried about it.’

  The professors really didn’t like each other: that was useful to know. Storm lay down, whining as if in pain.

  ‘Nuffield, you take the dog. I’ll carry the bag,’ Professor Utterby muttered in annoyance.

  Nuffield bent over Storm, intending to pick him up. Storm waited until he could see every yellow hair in the professor’s moustache, then, with the last of his strength, he lunged. His teeth closed over the end of Nuffield’s moustache. Nuffield gave a muffled yell of pain, staggered back and fell down on his bottom, letting go of the chain. Storm spat out a mouthful of moustache and scrabbled over the professor’s head, tumbling back downhill. Ryston shouted and ran after him, but tripped over a sheep that suddenly appeared.

  Run, storm puppy!

  He was trying! But the chain had got itself wrapped round his middle and he felt like he was suffocating. Then Utterby jumped on top of him, squashing him flat.

  ‘Can’t we kill him now?’ Ryston asked, wheezing.

  Utterby stood up, holding Storm tight round the middle. Storm tried to kick him, but his legs wouldn’t obey him. He sagged, his strength all gone. All he could do was hang there as Utterby carried him back up the mountain slope.

  But then Storm heard a crashing of branches behind, too loud for any sheep, and then Jessie’s voice, angry as the lightning, shouting his name.

  Jessie! Storm barked. Jessie had come for him. Fear surged through him and, with it, a burst of new energy. He struggled wildly. Jessie should not have come. She was only human, only a child. She couldn’t hope to fight the professors. But she’d come nevertheless.

  ‘Storm!’ she cried. She came striding through the trees like something out of the Wild Hunt – wet and furious. And she wasn’t alone, Storm saw. The Not-Boy and his aunt were right behind her.

  Storm kicked Utterby again and slithered out of his grip, landing upside down on the grass.

  ‘That’s my dog,’ Jessie said. She picked up a tree branch and brandished it like a weapon. ‘Give him back.’

  Storm’s heart almost burst with pride. He rolled over, trying to avoid the professors’ hands as they grabbed at him. Professor Utterby straightened his coat. ‘The dog does not belong to you, or to anybody else in this world. We have urgent need of its magic. I suggest the three of you leave now, before this turns nasty.’

  Ceridwen began to laugh.

  ‘I’m quite serious,’ Utterby said. ‘If you think we’re giving you the dog just so you can kill it . . .’

  ‘I have no intention of killing the dog,’ Ceridwen said. ‘Not any more. Morfran, Jessie, the first chance you get, take Storm and run. I’ll follow you.’ Rain sizzled around her, turning to steam. ‘Gentlemen,’ she continued, ‘I am Ceridwen, Guardian of Knowledge in this world and, by all the laws of magic, I challenge you. You will hand over the stormhound and leave.’

  Jessie lowered her tree branch, looking confused, but Storm knew exactly what had happened, and so did the Not-Boy, judging by his sudden yelp of dismay.

  ‘A sorcerer’s challenge,’ the Not-Boy said. ‘They have to accept or surrender, and they can’t do anything else until they’ve chosen.’ He looked at them hopefully. ‘They might surrender, of course.’

  ‘Can she do this?’ Nuffield asked.

  ‘Apparently so,’ Professor Utterby said. He gestured, and a staff appeared in his hand. ‘Gentlemen?’

  Ryston put down his bag and took out his divining rods. They became a shield and sword. Nuffield was suddenly holding an axe.

  No chance of surrender, then. Storm barked a warning to Jessie: Stay out of this.

  But he knew she couldn’t understand him, and he guessed that even if she could, she’d take no notice.

  ‘Challenge accepted,’ Professor Utterby said. A ball of light gathered around the tip of his staff.

  ‘Earthfire,’ Ceridwen scoffed. ‘Is that the best you can do?’

  Storm’s fur crackled with energy. Ceridwen hissed and the chain round his neck became a snake. Professor Utterby found himself holding its tail and he dropped it with a yell.

  Storm jumped back, a weight like a mountain suddenly lifting from him so that, for a moment, he felt like he was flying.

  ‘Run!’ Ceridwen yelled. She raised her hands and the trees around flashed with silver light.

  No! He was a stormhound. He didn�
��t run away. He snapped at Professor Utterby’s heels. You want my magic? Come and take it!

  Professor Ryston banged his sword on his shield. The air seemed to contract for a moment, then a rush of wind ripped through the hillside. Storm felt himself being lifted half up. He dug his claws into the ground and tried to hang on, but the wind blew him sideways and he landed painfully. Leaves and branches flew past him and a terrified sheep ran away. Ceridwen gave a cry like a bird and became an eagle. She launched herself into the sky and circled higher, rising above the wind that fought to bring her down.

  ‘Storm!’ Jessie gasped as he flung himself at her. She scooped him up and for a second he almost forgot he was a stormhound. He licked her face frantically, feeling his tail wagging against her arms.

  Then a scream broke the sky. The white eagle was plunging down, claws outstretched. Lightning cracked between the trees. A patch of grass caught fire and blazed briefly before the rain put it out. Ceridwen landed, transforming back into human form. But she stumbled, and Storm smelled magic bleeding out of her. She was burning through her power too quickly. She shouldn’t have challenged the professors. She could hold them off for a while, but she couldn’t beat them.

  She couldn’t . . . but Odin could.

  The thought cut through him, bright as lightning. Storm squirmed out of Jessie’s arms and dashed away up the slope.

  CHAPTER 37

  One moment Jessie was clutching Storm tightly, the next he was dashing away through the trees.

  ‘Storm, come back!’ she shouted.

  He turned his head and barked, then ran on. He wanted them to follow. David hung back and she caught his wrist and pulled him.

  He shook his head. ‘I’m not leaving Ceridwen.’

  ‘You have to. She told us to run. Storm knows what he’s doing.’

  She glanced back to see Ceridwen throw Professor Ryston into a tree. The sorceress turned round. A trickle of blood snaked down the side of her face, turning pink in the rain.