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Authors: Karl Beer

Crik (38 page)

BOOK: Crik
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‘What do you see?’ Bill called out.

What am I seeing, Jack wondered. Hanging over the edge, the overpowering smell made him light-headed. Carefully, he lowered himself onto his knees. Moist earth crumbled like freshly baked cake. Whatever made the hole had done it recently. Fearfully he returned his gaze to the dense wood. Was something out there watching him? The tightly packed Hawthorn trees could hide an army. A silent deadly army if one existed. No, he shook his head, Black would know if something watched them, but the wolf regarded him, as eager as Bill and Inara to know what he had discovered. Although the depth of the hole would swallow him whole, he realised it would only reach Gashnite’s giant calf. 

‘It’s too dark to see what lies at the bottom,’ said Jack. ‘I’m going to climb inside.’

‘Are you nuts,’ cried Bill. ‘Would you jump into a monster’s mouth to pull its tonsils?’

‘There’s nothing in here, I just need a closer look. That’s all.’

‘And I suppose if you start screaming you expect me to rush in after you,’ said Bill.

‘Don’t worry Bill, you can stay up here. I don’t expect you to come in after me.’

‘Good,’ said Bill, crossing his arms. ‘I’m glad we got that sorted.’

After leaping into the hole, the earth disintegrated before Jack’s rushing shoes. Placing his feet side onto the crumbling ground, he tried to slow his descent. Each time his trailing fingers dug into the ground, they met little resistance, and the roots he did clutch snapped like fine hair. Something shattered beneath his heel as he reached the bottom. Looking down he expected to find an earthenware pot, such as the ones his mother kept her plants in, what he discovered astounded him. An egg, or more precisely, half an egg, lay under his foot. Recognition made him nauseous. Beneath his heel rested the remains of a golden egg, dissected by a jagged silver line. A Hatchling’s egg. Another three broken shells were only a few feet from where he stood. Comprehending that he stood inside a demon’s nest made his heart patter like a caged animal. Immediately he scanned the ground for any demons still lurking in the shadows. If they were here, they disguised themselves as brick and dirt. Sure the demons were about to attack he spun around and spied tracks leading from the broken eggs. Two-toed footprints trampled the ground. Staring at the imprints, he recalled their duplicate in his own garden. Serpentine tracks crossed the other prints, slithering its way through the moist ground before changing into small mouse tracks. They led away from the hole.

Following the demon tracks, Jack climbed out of the hole. Earth caked his fingers by the time he got to the top of the depression.

‘What’d you find?’ asked Bill, coming forward to help Jack.

Ignoring the question, Jack followed the two-toed prints. Every few feet the stride of the creature grew, as though the demon had both grown and increased its pace. The bare earth at the crest of the hole made it easy for him to see the prints, and when it entered the wood, the bent grass continued to tease him forward.

‘Are those footprints?’

Jack only nodded.

‘Those tracks lead in the direction where we want to go,’ said Inara, walking Black up to them.

A fifth and larger set of footprints met the four trails leading from the hole at the tree line. The new prints dwarfed Jack’s own. He knew, by the two-inch depressions left in the soil, that something heavy had made the tracks.

‘What do you want to do, Jack?’ asked Inara.

The demon trails ended where they met the larger footprints, so whatever made those prints had carried the demons into the wood.

Looking ahead, Jack said, ‘We follow the tracks.’

Bill’s groan joined Black’s whine as Jack led them into the trees.

41. THE CAT AND THE MOUSE

 

Bird song followe
d
them into the woods. Tall grass whipped at their legs, dampening them with the dew that still clung to the green blades. Approaching a river Jack spotted a Heron standing on the bank, peering ever vigilant into the clear water. Everything hunted something, he mused. Fish ate the insects skating on the glassy river surface, the Heron waited for its chance, and Jack followed his quarry. Only, in his case, who hunted whom? The tracks following the winding river, carried them ever forward. Dense foliage crowded them, with red flowers colouring the undergrowth. Bill pointed out small animals the others missed. He was the first to notice a family of river voles. For a time the voles kept pace with them, before diving into the water.

The tracks remained fresh, so when the group spoke they did so in whispered tones that travelled no farther than their ears. Still, each spoken word ratcheted up Jack’s nerves. When Bill discovered a badger’s burrow, his shout almost had Jack follow the voles into the river.

‘Be quiet,’ said Jack. ‘Whatever made these tracks is nearby.’

Bill muttered something, but left the burrow undisturbed.

Despite following an unknown danger, Jack still appreciated the variety of wildlife on offer. Even the blue dragonflies, hovering just above the swaying grass, enthralled him.

‘This is stupid,’ said Bill, forgetting to be quiet. ‘Why are we following these footprints anyway? You want to see Knell, not rush into the woods to follow mysterious tracks.’

‘Those were demon eggs we found,’ whispered Jack. ‘We need to see what they’re up to.’

‘We? Don’t you mean you,’ said Bill.

‘There’s a demon inside you as well.’

‘It doesn’t bother me half as much as it does to you.’

‘Then you don’t mind finding out what they’re doing out here, do you?’

‘As a matter of fact, I don’t.’ Bill crossed his arms.

‘Then why argue?’

‘It’s what’s carrying the Narmacils that concerns me.’

Jack had attempted, with little success, to match the stride of the maker of the footprints. Igneous Fowlt, who rode his multi-coloured wagon into Crik Village to sell his clocks, was the tallest man he knew. When the salesman tried to sell his wares to Jack’s mother he always ducked to enter the house. Bill called him the Scarecrow, but even the Scarecrow couldn’t match the wide stride they now followed.

‘It crunched that log pretty good,’ said Bill, pointed to where a splintered length of timber crossed their path. ‘Do you see the impression it left.’

‘The wood is rotten,’ said Jack.

‘You would have to be very big to make a dent that size,’ said Bill.

‘Black hasn’t eased since discovering that hole in the ground,’ said Inara. ‘He’s jumping at every sound. It’s a wonder he hasn’t thrown me off.’

‘He doesn’t like it here, that’s for sure,’ said Bill, patting the side of the big black wolf.

‘If you’re so scared of what’s out there,’ said Jack, stabbing his finger forward, ‘then keep your voices down.’

‘We aren’t exactly inconspicuous out here, Jack,’ said Inara. ‘The river is keeping us out in the open. If that thing retraces its steps it will spot us, as surely as you can see me.’

‘We can’t enter the woods,’ said Jack. ‘We’d lose the tracks if we did.’

‘Quiet, both of you,’ said Bill. ‘Do you hear that?’

Jack listened. At first, all he heard was the buzzing of the insects, and the occasional bird singing from the branches; then a continuous roar met his ears. A low rumble from ahead underscored every other sound in the wood. The question of whether a demon produced that noise struck a nerve in him. ‘We’d better hide in the trees until we know what’s making that sound.’

‘So now you want to enter the woods,’ said Inara.

‘We can follow the sound as easily in the woods as out here,’ said Jack, heading for the nearest tree.

The roar became a clamour the closer they got to the source. Hopping over a fallen branch Jack peered out to see a large waterfall. Water clashed against rocks, sending spray up in a white mist.

‘It’s only a waterfall,’ said Bill, smiling with relief.

‘What’s that,’ said Inara, cutting their reprieve short.

Within the mist moved an immense shape. Jack saw one huge hand, with roots for fingers, escaping a white shirtsleeve. Spying the Wood Giant, he threw himself against the ground, pulling Bill down with him. Could this be the same Giant he had seen burying the egg in front of Bill’s house? It wore the same clothing, and the leaves falling from its high-rise brow were the same size and shape as the one he had seen.

‘It’s old,’ whispered Inara, who kept back in the shadows. ‘Look how broad its leaves are. I’d say it’s at least two hundred years old.’

In the daylight, Jack noticed more detail than he had during that long ago stormy night. Tufts of moss grew out of the cracked brown skin of the Giant. The green and yellow moss concentrated mainly around the Giant’s neck, gave the appearance of a thick scarf. Its humped back had split the white shirt fabric to reveal a patchwork of leaves, branches. Grey stone rose unevenly on its back, pushing aside red and brown leaves.

‘It’s heavy enough to have totally demolished the log it stepped on,’ said Bill. ‘It looks powerful enough to walk through a wall.’

A fact Jack had noted when he had watched the Giant from his bedroom window. At first, he thought the Giant hunched over to the drink the water, when the roots covering the Giant’s mouth clutched at a wet stone. Within moments, the rock cracked and fell to pieces. His mother had told him the wood folk ate rock minerals. Whilst it devoured a second stone slab, movement at the back of the falls drew the attention of the trio.

‘Do you see that,’ said Bill, fixing his sights behind the feeding Giant.

Two immense spiders skittered across the wet stone. Each had grown to the size of a large dog. One had thick hair covering its long legs, with cruel fangs that no doubt oozed venom. A black carapace covered its swaying abdomen. Knuckles of twisted bone grew along the larger arachnid’s carapace and legs. Their slow movements promised a creeping death. With its back turned to the spiders, the Giant was oblivious to the approaching danger.

‘Those spiders will kill the Giant, for sure,’ said Bill, watching the drama unfold with an intentness that concerned Jack.

‘Do you want me to shout out a warning?’ asked Inara.

‘Are you crazy?’ said Bill. ‘Given the chance those spiders would be happy to snack on us too. No, let’s see what happens.’

Did Bill want to see something die? Such bloodlust unsettled Jack more than the scuttling spider legs. Yang shared the dreadful fascination that excited them both. He almost threw up when Yang transformed into a spider. Trust his demon to share an affinity with these foul creatures. Turning back, he saw a huge thick centipede join the two spiders. The newcomer’s, flattened, segmented body rushed across the rock, its long antennae twitching in the air as it located the spiders.

‘There’s something not right here,’ said Bill. ‘Arthropods don’t grow to that size.’

‘We’re in a strange place Bill,’ said Inara. ‘We’ve never been this far away from home before. Who’s to say what lives out here?’

The entrance of the centipede had stopped the spiders. The Giant still refused to look away from its meal.

‘Will you stop it,’ whispered Jack, swiping his shadow’s spider legs off his arm. ‘Why can’t you just be normal? You don’t always have to join in, and change your shape.’ His internal temperature had plummeted at Yang’s touch. Ignoring his shadow’s antics, he turned back to the falls. ‘Can either of you see the eyes of the spiders, or the centipede?’

‘Why?’ asked Inara.

‘If I’m right, I think I know what we’re looking at.’

The falling water obscured his view, shielding the arthropod and the arachnids in its rising wall of mist. When he saw the golden eyes, dissected by a silver gash, between the centipede’s antennae, Jack knew them as Hatchlings.

‘The demons that live inside us,’ he said, pointing forward, ‘that’s what they are.’

‘You said it had two legs,’ said Bill.

‘I told you it changed its shape,’ said Jack. ‘Those are the things that hatched from the eggs. Do you see now why I want it gone? I don’t want one of those things living inside me.’

‘You’re lying, Yin,’ said Bill. ‘I haven’t got a spider crawling around inside me.’

‘No, you’ve something worse than that. Every time they choose a new shape, they decide on something more grotesque. It mirrors the twisted, obscene creatures that they are. Look, Yang has changed its form to that of a spider.’

‘Yang’s only playing around,’ said Inara. ‘What he’s doing is harmless.’

‘Would you go down to the waterfall and cuddle one of those spiders?’ asked Jack. ‘Of course you wouldn’t, you don’t know what they would do to you.’

‘You don’t know that they’re evil,’ said Inara.

‘Look at them Inara,’ said Bill. ‘They look pretty grim to me. The spider with the bones growing from it has fangs as long as my forearm.’

‘So you’re joining Jack now,’ she said.

‘I’m not saying that,’ said Bill. ‘But you’ve got to admit, they look scary.’

‘That’s a pretty shallow view Bill,’ said Inara. ‘You love Black, and he’s not the friendliest looking beast in the woods.’

Leaving a pile of rubble behind, the Giant turned toward the Hatchlings. In anticipation, Jack hunched toward the tableau. The waterfall, sounding like the laughter of small children, drowned out the Giant’s words; the Hatchlings rushed forward. Hanging from the ceiling the centipede transformed into a leaping frog with huge golden eyes, complete with its tell-tale silver lightning bolt. Both spiders kept their shape, though the hairy spider altered its hair into twigs and leaves.

‘They’re going to eat the Giant,’ said Bill.

Instead of attacking the Wood Giant, the large frog leapt into its outstretched arms. Immediately it changed into a long snake and wrapped itself around the Giant’s neck, nestling down amongst the moss that grew there. Carrying the snake, the Wood Giant retreated to the back of the waterfall.

‘It’s drawing something,’ said Bill. ‘Look, its holding a piece of chalk.’

The Giant busied itself with its sketch, and the Hatchlings paid attention. Jack wished he could see what the Giant drew. ‘It looks like its teaching them.’

‘What do you mean, teaching them?’ said Bill, not taking his eyes away from the strange classroom under the falls.

‘How should I know,’ said Jack. ‘It reminds me of sitting in class though. Look, the spiders aren’t moving; they’re studying the wall.’

‘Perhaps it’s teaching them the best way to kill,’ said Bill.

‘That’s something I expect to hear from Jack, not you Bill,’ said Inara.

‘Who’s to say he’s not right,’ said Jack. ‘I wouldn’t pit Black against any one of those spiders. Out here in the woods, far away from the village, the Hatchlings don’t have to hide what they are.’

‘They never have,’ argued Inara. ‘Just because you don’t understand them, doesn’t automatically make what they’re doing wrong.’

‘You don’t know what they’re doing either,’ said Jack. ‘Why are you so scared to find out?’

‘I refuse to damn them out of hand,’ said Inara.

What more proof of the demon’s nature, did she need? He wanted to get under the falls to discover what the Giant scrawled on the rock. Could he risk sneaking in closer? The trees thinned at the falls, cutting down his chances of remaining hidden. With a sigh, he settled down to wait for the Giant to finish.

Whatever it drew, it took the Giant a long time to complete. Roots seemed a poor alternative to fingers, making holding the chalk cumbersome and drawing with them an arduous task. The Hatchlings showed more patience than Jack did, with each sitting in rapt attention until the Giant finally stood back from the wall.

‘I’m sure Dwayne would be able to see the drawing.’ Bill fixed his glasses higher up his nose, perhaps in the hope of seeing beyond the Giant.

‘You two will just have to be patient,’ said Inara. ‘The Giant will move eventually.’

‘So now you’re an expert on Wood Giants,’ said Bill.

BOOK: Crik
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