An Army of Good (7 page)

There was something refreshing about this time of day. The sun was still up, but not for much longer and the intensity had gone from its heat. The sand was pleasantly cool on Grace's sun-warmed skin, and the sound of the waves breaking against the shore was very soothing.

“Shouldn't they be here by now, Abi?” Grace asked the sea turtle.

“Well, they is a little late now, child, but y'all mustn't be a-worrying, ya hear me. Zavier knows what he's a-doin'. They'll be here soon enough. You'll see,” Abigail said, as she headed down the beach back to the ocean's welcoming water, leaving what looked like a tyre track in the sand behind her.

Grace said goodbye to Abi and started to run back to the beach house. It was a very quiet evening, even the ocean was close to silent, but as Grace ran she became aware of a sudden beating sound behind her. She turned to see what it was, and was completely taken aback as a green woodpecker flew past her.

“Och, hello, lassie. Ye must be wee Grace. Lovely to meet wi' ye at last!” Jock called out.

“Yes, lovely to meet you, see you at the house,” Jock's grandaughter Joanney agreed as she, too, flew past.

More woodland birds appeared in the sky surrounding Grace, birds such as nuthatch, jay, greenfinch, blue tit, and many others. A fat wood pigeon lumbered through the air, followed by another.
What on earth are all these woodland birds doing at the beach?
Grace was thinking, when two foxes followed by groups of squirrels, rabbits and hedgehogs scuttled out from the trees, down the rocky path, and onto the sand. Then she spotted Zavier's silvery grey head emerging from within the woods.

“They're back!” she screamed with delight, “and they've brought all of the woodland animals with them!”

Her parents, her brothers and Christian were standing on the bridge over the estuary near to the house. They had been admiring the turquoise ocean's gleam as the starfish began to faintly glow on its bed in the twilight. They turned to see what Grace was squealing about and were all amazed to see such a bizarre scene. Grace was in a tight embrace, being swished around in the air by Grandad Arthur. Nanny Lizzy and Christian's parents, Kyle and Sharna, were making their way down the rocky path, and Zavier was strolling majestically along the sand toward the beach house, surrounded by a mass of woodland animals.

“Whoa,” Harry said.

“Wow,” Mary agreed.

“Agghh, parents!” Chris moaned.

* * *

The badgers, Meles and Braxton, were the last to bumble their way up the steps and into the house. As they entered the lounge area, the hedgehogs, Kai, Logan and Oliver, rolled off Braxton's back, giggling loudly to each other as they tumbled across the lounge floor, before coming to a stop at Grace's feet.

Grace beamed with happiness.

“Don't you just love it here, Cranky?” she asked her Grandad.

“Well, I wasn't sure at first. It was all a bit of a shock, you know, but now that I'm here with you, I think it's lovely. Luverly bloomin' jubberly,” he chuckled, giving her a big squeeze.

Jazmine noticed how tired the old man was looking. “Arthur, Lizzy, let me show you both to your room. You must be exhausted. I'm afraid you will be sharing with Mary and Evan. I hope that's okay? As you can see, we're a little pushed for space now that the woodland creatures have joined us, and we still have more Humans to collect over the coming weeks.”

“That's absolutely fine, dear, I can sleep anywhere,” Grandad Arthur replied.

“It's true,” Grace piped up, “he has narropsy. He can even sleep while he's standing up.”

“You mean narcolepsy,” Nanny Lizzy laughed, “and he hasn't really got it, he's just a lazy old man!”

“I'm coming up to show you your room as well,” Grace said excitedly, and she raced up the stairs ahead of her grandparents, eager to show them where they would be staying.

“What do you think, Cranky? It's like a king's room, isn't it?” Grace said, as she trampolined on her parents' four poster bed. “Isn't it, Cranky!” she shouted.

“Huh, what?” Grandad Arthur asked as he stood dumbfounded, clutching an old wooden car that he'd found on the dressing table.

“It's like a king's room, isn't it?”

“Yes, yes, it is,” he said absently, still holding the car with a surprised look on his face.

Jazmine spotted Arthur's curiosity. “That's Zavier's. Isn't it beautiful? His great-great-uncle made it for him. He was an amazing carpenter and toymaker, a very talented man indeed. Unfortunately, he was lost at sea when the grand ship was sunk,” she explained.

“Oh, how sad,” Lizzy sighed.

“Come on, Cranky, let's go outside to the fire. It's dark out now, and I want you to meet the Fire Fairies,” Grace said excitedly, taking her grandad's hand and placing the car back on the dressing table.

“Fire Fairies?” Arthur said, with the same astonished look on his face that a rabbit caught in headlights might have.

“Yes, Grandad, Fire Fairies. And don't look so shocked, they won't hurt you, they're beautiful,” Grace said, dragging the old man out of the room.

Arthur was mesmerised by the beauty of the Fire Fairies. The crescent moon provided only a small amount of light that night, which meant that the firework display presented by the fairies was even more vivid and dazzling than usual.

Fairies made of fire. Fairies made of fire
, Arthur said over and over again in his mind.

Zavier approached, sitting himself down on a log beside Arthur.

“They are fascinating creatures, aren't they?” he said.

The sound of Zavier's voice snapped Arthur out of his spellbound state and back to reality.

“Huh… what… sorry… what did you say? I was away with the fairies. Ha, away with the fairies,” Arthur joked.

“You were indeed away with the fairies weren't you?” Zavier laughed. “I said they are fascinating creatures, aren't they?”

“They sure are, but if I'm honest, Zavier, they don't feel real to me.”

“Oh, they are real, trust me.”

“I know they are, I can see them, I can feel the heat they radiate onto my face as they whizz past, but they don't feel real to me. I mean, I feel as if I'm dreaming them. I feel a… well… a surreal feeling, like that of déjà vu. It's as if I've been here before. And the car, Zavier, your toy wooden car, the one that's in my bedroom, I have one almost exactly the same. It was made by my grandfather. He gave it to me on my fifth birthday.”

“Well, Arthur, you definitely haven't been here before, that I can assure you. There have never been any Humans in Liberty, until now that is, but as for having a car like mine, well, that is possible. You see, my great-great-uncle was the best carpenter and toymaker in all of Liberty. He used to sell his works to the toyshop in Witern Wood Village. Your grandfather could very well have bought one of my uncle's wooden cars for you from there.”

“Well, bloomin' cheek, silly old codger, he told me that he'd made it himself, and I believed him. Why didn't he just tell me he'd bought it? I wouldn't have minded.”

“Maybe he was trying to impress you.”

“Maybe.”

“My great-great-uncle also built the beach house, with some help, of course.”

“Well, Zavier, your great-great-uncle was a very talented man. And speaking of the house, I think that's where I'm gonna head now. All this adventurous stuff is a bit much for an old man like me to take in, you know. It's been a real pleasure to meet you, sir, but I'm gonna head up the wooden hill and get some sleep,” Arthur said, stretching out his hand to offer Zavier a goodnight handshake.

“Wooden hill?” Zavier puzzled, as he shook Arthur's hand.

“Yeah, stairs,” Arthur explained.

“Oh, I get it,” Zavier said, laughing.

Arthur rose wearily from the log, and weaved his way out through the mass of people and animals that were gathered around the beach fire.

“'Night all, I'm off to bed,” he called out, waving a hand back at them as he headed to the house.

* * *

As soon as Arthur's head sank into the comfortable pillow he was whisked smoothly away to the land of nod.

* * *

Arthur sat on his bed in his flannelette pyjamas and leaned back against the headboard.

“Grandad, please can you tell me a bedtime story? It is my birthday,” he said, pushing his brand new, shiny red painted wooden car around on the candlewick bedspread.

“Okay, young man, I know a very special and magical story, a secret story that only very special boys are allowed to hear on their fifth birthdays.”

“Huh, I'm five today, Grandad. It's my fifth birthday today,” Arthur gasped.

“Well, so it is. Best you get snuggled down ready for me to tell you the story, then.”

“That's a great story, Grandad, can you tell me more about the magical land, and the fairies made of fire?”

“Not now, young man, it's very late, and you've had a very busy day. I'll tell you another time. Now get some sleep.”

“'Night, Grandad and thanks again for my car. I love it!”

“You're welcome, birthday boy, goodnight.”

* * *

A mixture of things woke Arthur from his sleep. One of them was the slightly chilly sea-breeze blowing in through the bedroom window, another was the shrieking of the gulls outside, but mainly it was the sharp kick to the shins that Lizzy had given him for snoring.

Arthur opened his eyes and breathed deeply. For a split second he'd forgotten where he was, but then the realisation of being in Liberty hit him, along with the memories of his dream; memories of his fifth birthday.
Maybe I haven't been to Liberty before,
he thought,
but my grandad certainly must have been! How else could he have known about the fairies made of fire?

Adramalech and one of the juvenile Nomeds had disappeared around the same time that the Human child had entered Liberty and with her, she had brought a strange sense of unease. This had alarmed the Nomeds and they had been confined to the swamp by their master. They were only allowed to leave occasionally, in order to assess the surrounding area, and to search for Adramalech and the missing juvenile. They hadn't fed for days now and the need to drain the life and soul from another, to empower themselves, was growing, beckoning them in the same way that a drug beckons its addict.

The Nomeds began to rise from within the swamp's dark mud in order to honour their three-headed king. Balam stood before them amid a sinister mist, its vapour draped across his shoulders like a cloak that had been made for him by the servants of hell. Mud snakes slithered out of the darkness, their black and red bodies coiling up the malevolent king's legs before coming to rest in the sunken crevices between his ribs. Balam cricked his necks and flicked his tongues in anticipation of the emerging Nomeds. When all of the Nomeds had risen, his twisting and wandering heads faced forward, his black eyes glistened like cold stones of onyx, and with his left tongue he addressed them.

“Ym stnavres, eht emit sah tsomla emoc rof su ot ekat siht dnal rof sevlesruo. Tsrif ew tsum tnuh ekil ew evah reven detnuh erofeb. Ew tsum erusne ew era ta ruo tsegnorts dna tsom lufrewop nehw ew kcatta.”

The Nomeds clicked their tongues and snaked their heads excitably at the thought of a hunt.

“Og won, hctef em emos regdab, ro retteb llits gnirb em emos esflaH hself!”
Balam ordered, with his arms outstretched and his tongues flicking wildly across his jagged teeth in anticipation of the meal.

The frenzied Nomeds scampered like rats rising from the confines of a drainpipe. They left the swamp and seeped into the surrounding woodland. The Nomeds ripped through the trees, foraged the ground, and clawed their way into foxes' and badgers' dens, but they found nothing.

Fala's red eyes shone out from the top of a high tree as he scouted for any signs of life.
“Yeht tsum evah delf, rehtie taht ro yeht era ylemertxe llew neddih. S'tel ton etsaw yna erom emit ereh. S'tel tnuh rof esflaH ni eht wodaem!”
he spat.

Nicor thrashed his way out of a bush, his electric-blue eyes wild with hunger. Daray clawed his way into a foxes' den while Kern, the vampire Nomed, stood in wait close to its entrance. Kern peered inside the den in the hope that Daray would emerge with a fresh corpse, only to be disappointed when he appeared empty-handed. Nebula had searched the area thoroughly and found nothing, not even a sparrow. He shone his green eyes intensely, creating a luminous glow, to gain the others' attention.

“Uoy lla draeh alaF, s‘ereht gnihton ot eb dnuof ereh,”
he said, lifting an arm and gesturing for the others to follow him. “
Ot eht wodaem!
” he ordered.

Trees creaked and branches snapped as the Nomeds climbed into the canopies. They tore their way through the treetops and headed down the hillside, toward the meadow, to hunt for Halfse flesh.