Crik (37 page)

‘It so far away,’ said Bill, leaning precariously through the Giant’s fingers.

‘Be careful,’ said Jack. Yang took hold of Bill and pulled him gently back into the hand.

‘Thanks,’ said Bill, once Yang released him. ‘I guess it was my turn to take a foolish risk. If we can see the marsh, I bet we can also spot our home.’

‘I doubt it,’ said Jack. ‘Deep wood surrounds the village; and without any tell-tale landmark to guide us we will never find it.’

‘I guess you’re right,’ conceded Bill. ‘Can’t harm to look though, can it?’ Bending forward he narrowed his eyes, trying to spy anything familiar.

How far had they travelled, mused Jack as he looked over the miles of dense woodland, sprawling grass fields, and hills. He wondered which ones they had crossed. Under which trees did Black’s pack now hunt? If he shouted from up here, would his voice carry all the way back home, or would the wind whip it away before it even left his lips? These and more questions rushed to mind. Never would he have believed he would ever see such a sight as this.

‘I don’t know where my home is either,’ said Inara. She had pulled herself to the edge of the hand. ‘It felt like I wandered for days before finding the marsh. I think I came to Krimble’s house from the west, or possibly from the east. I don’t know.’ She shook her head in dismay. ‘Krimble didn’t make a straight route for me to follow. Pink blossomed trees grow close to my home.’

Knowing she looked for any pink amongst the browns and greens of the landscape made Jack hunt for them as well. Dense vegetation blanketed everything, and each plant sported a different hue. Searching for the obscure pink trees reminded him of trying to locate a particular jigsaw piece amongst thousands.

‘My house sits alongside a wide lake,’ she whispered.

Jack saw hundreds of lakes dotted around the countryside. Any one of them could be the one she remembered.

‘I’m sorry Inara,’ he said, rubbing his eye with a knuckle.

‘One of the village hunters will know where you live,’ said Bill. ‘When we get back home, they’ll take you to your parents.’

‘Yes, when,’ said Inara, as she continued to look out at Crik Wood.

After long minutes of silence, Gashnite turned and took them across the summit of the Hedge Wall. His long stride covered the distance quickly, making short work of the walk. Snow-capped mountains, and woodland, met them on the far side.

‘Well Yin,’ said Bill. ‘I doubt we’ll find home on this side of the wall.’

Of that, Jack had no doubt, only, for now, he didn’t seek home.

‘Didn’t you say heather covered the Scorn Scar?’ asked Inara.

Jack nodded.

‘Well, the only purple I see, lies in the cleft at the foot of that mountain.’ Inara gestured forward.

With eager eyes, Jack followed her direction and found what he sought. ‘That must be it,’ he cried. ‘It doesn’t look that far away.’

‘The marsh didn’t seem that far away on the other side,’ said Bill, ‘yet it took an age to reach the hedge.’

‘You’re exaggerating, Bill,’ said Jack. Though, thick woodland did fill the terrain before the Scorn Scar. Shaking his head, he wondered what dangers hid amongst all that greenery. They had survived the Red Wood, with its Myrms and Red Sisters; they will survive whatever Crik Wood had in store for them. Besides, he smiled; they had Black to protect them.

‘Hope we don’t cross another pack of wolves,’ said Bill.

Jack scowled at him.

‘Will you take us as far as that mountain?’ Inara asked Gashnite.

Metal squealed as the giant gorilla shook his head. ‘I have yet to explore my home,’ said Gashnite. ‘I will get you to the foot of the hedge and then return. I already miss the metal trees and the iron bushes. Huckney has told me of what lies within the Wold, and I am eager to discover the Golden Glade with its glittering fronds, and to see my reflection in Chrome Hill.’

‘Well I’ve seen enough metal to last me a lifetime,’ said Bill.

‘Bill,’ said Inara, raising her eyes to the metal gorilla that held them in his bronze hand.

Bill gulped. ‘No offense, Gashnite.’

Gashnite’s laugh shook the thick layer of thorns under his feet. ‘You are soft things, it is only right that you long to return to softer lands.’

Atop the Hedge Wall, the Scorn Scar appeared so close; Jack fancied he could reach out and grab it. Heather emerged from the base of the mountain like a birthmark on the landscape. Almost there, he mused, knowing Knell’s home waited for him close to the purple swathe.

The hedge effectively contained Krimble’s storm, so the descent remained clear, making them fretful at how frighteningly far away the ground beneath them was. Captivated with the view, Jack drank in every detail. He spied a lake close to the Scorn Scar; crystal blue water lapped a stony shore.

Did she expect him? When the Lindre took him to Knell, she had been waiting for him. Again, Jack wondered what the hooded woman knew.

Gashnite descended faster than he had climbed, and Crik Wood revealed more of its detail the closer they got to the woodland floor. The lofty, Birch, Hazel and Hawthorn trees, soon hid the Scorn Scar from Jack’s keen sight.

Birds, startled into flight by Gashnite’s arrival, soared into the sky. Unconcerned, the metal gorilla came to a sudden screeching halt as he placed one foot on the ground. ‘Here we are children,’ he said. ‘I hope you enjoyed the ride.’ Bending down, Gashnite allowed the children to step off onto the grass.

Laughing, Bill rolled on the ground, smelling the weeds and small white flowers as though he had never seen them before. Jack breathed in deep, letting the smells of the wood fill his chest to bursting.

‘Gashnite?’ Inara said, looking up at the gorilla with concern.

Looking behind, Jack asked, ‘What’s the matter?’

Gashnite still knelt down, with his extended hand outstretched before him. He didn’t move.

‘Why isn’t he getting up?’ asked Bill, walking up to place a hand on the copper swirls running up Gashnite’s massive arm.

‘Answer us, Gashnite,’ said Inara.

‘Look at his eyes,’ said Jack. What had once danced with brilliance now held inscrutable dullness. Only the reflected sun offered any contrast to Gashnite’s dormant features. 

‘Is he dead,’ asked Bill.

Climbing back on the giant hand Jack knew Gashnite was no longer with them. ‘What happened?’

‘He must have gone too far from Huckney,’ said Inara. ‘He lost contact, the same way Bill lost contact with Black when they were apart.’

‘Is it the same for you?’ asked Jack. ‘Are all the animals you raised in the Red Wood gone?’

Shaking her head, Inara said, ‘I can still feel them. My Talent must work differently from Bill’s and Huckney’s.’

Or something has happened to Huckney. Jack pushed away the dreadful implication of that thought as though it were a deadly disease.

‘Do you think either Gashnite or Huckney knew what would happen once Gashnite got us to the other side of the Hedge Wall?’ asked Bill.

No one answered as they looked upon the silent giant.

Where had th
e
Hedge Wall gone? The question nagged Jack throughout the third day of walking through the lush woodland. No sign of the colossal barrier remained through the foliage. For a couple of days, they couldn’t escape its oppressive presence, and then it vanished. Sat within the glow of a campfire he recalled the same phenomena on the other side of the wall, where the hedge only appeared as they grew near. From its summit, they had seen the entire wood spread out before them, so why couldn’t they see it from everywhere in Crik Wood? He didn’t bother posing the question to his friends; no doubt, they’d blame some protective spell; he had enough of spells and Talents to last him two lifetimes.

Fat sizzled from a roasting pig they had suspended over the fire. Absently he turned the spit, savouring the smell of Black’s latest kill. Inara stared at the crackling flames in silent contemplation. Bill had his eyes closed, sharing Black’s skin as the wolf hunted. Since having Black back with them, Bill had entered the big wolf’s mind every night, and grew more distant during the day. If Bill’s withdrawal concerned Inara she didn’t show it; it troubled Jack. He didn’t want his best friend relying on his demon.

‘It’s lucky we’ve got Black with us,’ said Inara, breaking the silence. ‘I doubt any of us would make good hunters.’

Sometimes, Inara’s unerring way of talking about what was on his mind spooked Jack. Could she read him so well, that she knew what he was thinking? Or was he wrong, did Bill’s growing reliance on Black also trouble her? Probably unlikely; Inara loved everything about the demons. She’d no doubt jump for joy if she saw him dance with Yang. Imagining dancing with his shadow left a bad taste in his mouth.

‘The woods are full of game,’ he said. ‘All this noise has given me a nervous twitch. When something crawls or slithers through the underbrush I keep expecting an attack.’

‘I know what you mean,’ said Inara. ‘The Red Wood was so quiet. Out here, everything is alive.’ A twig broke in the darkness as though to underline her words. ‘Do you think the Myrms will follow us?’

Jack, though sharing her fear, tried to calm her. ‘I don’t think so. The Blackthorn Tunnel is on the opposite side of the hedge. They won’t come after us.’

‘I won’t go back,’ she said, staring into the flames. ‘I’d prefer to die.’

‘No one is going to capture us. The Scorn Scar is only a few days away. Once we get there, all this will end and we can return home.’

‘Will my parents still love me?’

The question stunned him. ‘Of course they’ll love you. They haven’t given up on you, Inara. Your parents search for you everyday.’

‘Look at me,’ she said, jabbing a finger at her legs that ended at her knees. ‘I’m not the same girl that left home. I’m a cripple, how can I help around the farm when I haven’t got any legs?’

‘You’re their daughter; of course they’ll welcome you back.’

‘A daughter that has seen too much death,’ she said. ‘My time in Krimble’s house changed me. I don’t see much hope or joy in the world anymore. Everything is dull, lifeless. On the sunniest day, it feels overcast. When it rains, I hear blood splatter falling against a wooden floor. Screams from those tortured haunt me everyday. Only sometimes, I hear my screams. Do you know what I think when I hear my screams?’

Jack shook his head.

‘I have heard enough dying people to recognise when death has come.’ She stared harder into the fire. ‘I don’t think death has forgotten about me; I’m still waiting for my fate to catch up. My Talent is death; raising the dead from the ground so that they may live again. Not something a parent would want their little girl to do. Growing plants, as does your mother, is an envious ability. Mother is fond of flowers, and I could help my dad grow his crop in the field.’ Forcing a smile made her cracked lips bleed. ‘Can you imagine my mother’s face if I brought back our old dog Huxter? We buried him beneath one of those pink trees I looked for atop the Hedge Wall. He’d only be gristle and bone now. A good dog, he was softer than mud. Mice would spook him, and send him running for cover. Huxter’s return would not be a good idea.’

‘No matter what trouble I was in, my mother always loved me,’ said Jack. ‘Your parents love you, there’s nothing you can do that’ll ever change that. Instead of riding Black, they’ll give you a horse with a comfortable saddle. Riding a mare you’ll be able to go anywhere on your farm.’

‘I’m fourteen years old, yet my reflection tells the truth. I’ve aged since leaving home. I’m closer to forty than I should be. You’re only twelve, and yet you look younger. Nothing has touched you Jack. I hope nothing will.’

Nothing had touched him; how can she think that? Everything affected him. He had accepted Yang before this all started, desiring his shadow’s company. When Dwayne picked a fight, Yang was always there to stop him. Joined with Yang he had never lost a scrap. Hilarious, standing out here in the unknown wood, to think weather was his biggest concern back at the village. Long days stuck in his room looking out on the rain no longer seemed such a chore. At least in his bedroom he had his toys for company. The laughter that had threatened to spill from him dried up in his throat like spit on a hot griddle. What he now saw when he closed his eyes was not the rain beating against his bedroom window, but the Giant standing in the downpour. A cold wave swept up his back as he recollected the Giant watching him with its cluster of eyes. Stretching toward the flames, he tried to control his shivers.

‘Careful, you’ll burn your fingers,’ Inara said.

The heat didn’t touch him; a deep cold wrapped his innards like a strangling weed that crushed his will. The inescapable knowledge that he carried a demon had erected a barrier between him and the solace offered by the fire.

‘I can still feel Krimble,’ said Inara suddenly. Ignoring her own warning, she spread her hands toward the inviting flames. ‘They hurt him for helping us escape.’

‘Did you feel it, like when Black killed the stag?’

She nodded. ‘Only with him I didn’t turn his mind away from the pain. Staying with him, I relished every slice from their blades, though they hurt me too. Each time they bludgeoned him I gave small thanks; he deserves to suffer. Although I could only manage the connection for a few minutes, I know they attacked him mercilessly for hours.’

‘Is he alive?’

‘Of course,’ she said, cracking a frightening smile. ‘He is still getting off too easy. I cannot forgive his inhuman crimes against me, and especially the others. Torturous weeks, months, years for all the windowless room told me, we spent under his vacant mercies. Every unheard cry, every unanswered prayer, rings in my head. His every movement is a struggle, and yet, I want to inflict more pain on him. Do you think that is bad of me? Tell me Jack, should I let him die?’

Jack knew his mother would want him to urge her to forgive Krimble. He could hear her voice now, “Holding onto your hate, will make you as bad as him,” she would say. Jack was not his mother. ‘Let him suffer,’ he answered. ‘Given the chance, he would have let those rats eat our faces.’

‘If it wasn’t for Yang knocking him out,’ said Inara.

Wisps flowed upward from Yang’s back as he imitated the smoke rising from the roast. It looks so evil, thought Jack, staring at his dark twin. Would he feel differently if the demon that had jumped into Bill had looked friendlier? The question stumped him. Had he taken his friends into peril just because of the way the demon had looked? Naming the demon a Narmacil softened its inherent horror. Then, if benign, why had it kept itself secret? If it was kind, why did the Giant sneak it into the village during a storm? Mr Dash knew about it, yet he kept it secret. When the Village Elders dragged Mr Hasseltope from the river, the grave keeper didn’t say a word. Again he wondered whether Mr Dash needed to say anything. Bugs would have told Mr Gasthem, and if he knew, others would surely know the secret.

Opening his eyes, Bill said, ‘There’s a deep hole in the woods. It’s not an animal burrow.’

‘What’s so strange about that?’ asked Inara.

‘It smells odd.’

Jack recalled the hole behind Knell’s house. Krimble had destroyed the Lindre before he had discovered what lay at the bottom of that hole. Were the two holes somehow connected? ‘Where is it?’

‘Not far,’ said Bill.

‘We’d best wait for morning,’ said Inara. ‘Traipsing through the woods during the night isn’t the best idea.’

‘She’s right,’ said Bill. ‘In the dark we won’t be able to see what’s in the hole.’

Despite the good reasons to wait, Jack wanted nothing more than to peer into the depression. He looked away from the fire to see only blackness. What waited out there for him to discover? Both Inara and Bill didn’t share his eagerness to find out. Inara withdrew from the flame, while Bill busied himself with cutting into the cooked meat. Jack’s growling stomach forced his attentions to the roasting pig. After handing a leg to Inara they all devoured their supper with relish.

‘Why don’t you bring Black back to camp,’ said Inara. ‘I’m sure he’ll welcome the warmth of the fire, and we’ll feel safer for having him close.’

‘He’s on his way back.’

‘Did he look closer at the hole?’ asked Jack.

‘After taking one sniff he left it alone,’ answered Bill. ‘I think it’s probably for the best if we walk around it tomorrow. Black has a nose for trouble, and if he doesn’t like it, then neither do I.’

‘We’re going to the hole,’ said Jack. ‘Remember, I told you Knell had one in her garden.’

‘You think the two holes are connected?’ said Bill. ‘Knell lives miles away.’

‘Much of what we’ve seen doesn’t make sense,’ said Jack. ‘If it’s dangerous then we’ll go.’

‘If it’s dangerous, we may not be able to leave,’ said Bill. ‘Good night Yin.’ Turning his shoulder he fell immediately to sleep.

Hours passed before Jack stopped watching his sleeping friends. Curling up on his side, he tried to make himself comfortable on the lumpy ground. He tossed and turned until the black night sky grew lighter. Black watched him with his blue eyes. Jack wondered what the wolf didn’t like about the hole. No matter what it was, he would find out soon.

Only a few wisps of smoke drifted up from the remains of the fire as Jack stood. Yang stretched beside him, before running into the trees. Stay out there, thought Jack, when Yang disappeared.

‘Come on, wake up,’ said Jack, nudging Bill with his foot.

‘What’s the rush,’ said Bill, covering his face.

‘You too Inara, its morning.’

‘Already,’ she said.

‘Yin, you can be really annoying,’ said Bill, rising. ‘Wish I hadn’t mentioned that hole.’

‘The sooner we find it, the quicker we’ll be on our way,’ said Jack.

With Bill’s help, Jack lifted Inara onto Black. The wolf tossed his great head as Inara shifted her weight. ‘Which way to the hole?’ she asked.

Pointing, Bill said, ‘About an hour’s walk that way.’

‘Then let’s go, before Jack suffers a heart attack,’ she said, gripping the coarse wolf hair.

Jack led the group, with an occasional shout from Bill telling him he had gone the wrong way. Meandering through the bush, they found fresh water to fill the skins from Black’s latest kill. Slinging one sloshing bag over his shoulder, Jack pushed through drooping vines and almost stumbled into a large hole.

Black shied away from the lip of the depression, jostling Inara, who patted his side with a calming hand. ‘Careful Jack,’ she said. ‘I don’t think you want to fall in there, Black’s afraid of the hole.’

‘Told you,’ said Bill. ‘Whatever this place is, Black can smell it’s not right. Are you sure you want to look inside that thing?’

Regarding his friend, Jack gave a nod. ‘I’m not just going to walk away. Whatever’s at the bottom of that thing,’ he said pointing at the hole, ‘I’m going to see it. I don’t care if a bird suddenly bursts into flames.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ replied Jack, edging toward the broken ground. Now closer, he could smell what had upset the wolf. It smelt like walking into a long disused room, occupied by bats and desiccated spiders. Deep rents tore the lip of the depression, some of which were wide enough to enclose his foot. Taking care where he tread he edged along the hole. Square-cut stone littered the blackened earth, like tombstones. He scanned the woods for signs of a dwelling. No abode sat nearby, the woods remained untouched.