Crik (59 page)

Jack took a forward step, he felt as though someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over him. ‘What about Herm?’

‘They built a fire and melted him down.’ A sense of glee slipped by Krimble’s, otherwise impassive, exterior.

He loves that they killed Herm, thought Jack. Even stripped down to nothing, the man, who had kidnapped them in the marsh, had not changed. Given half a chance and this rogue would kill them all. The knowledge of Herm, melted down into a puddle of bronze, made him hate Krimble even more. ‘You enjoyed it.’

Krimble’s only reply was the clatter of his teeth coming together in a hard bite.

‘What are you holding?’ asked Inara, spying the bundle of brown wool with suspicion.

‘Nothing,’ snapped Krimble.

‘Show me.’ Inara commanded the zombie. ‘Drop the blanket and show me what you hold with such reverence. I wonder what it is that you prize.’

‘No.’ Krimble sounded like a small child asked to give up his favourite toy. ‘I told you what happened after you left. You owe me for saving your life. Don’t take this from me.’

‘Drop the blanket,’ Inara said, implacable.

A cry of such anguish lifted from Krimble that Jack believed something had hurt the zombie. The cries crescendo rose to such a sorrowful pitch Jack would have put his hands over his ears, if anyone, but Krimble, had issued it. Instead, he had no pity for the man. His mother would want him to feel something, anything, but the fact that he could not, only made his jaw hang wider, turning the grin that had formed, wolfish. Glittering, his eyes watched the blanket fall away to reveal a golden egg. ‘A Narmacil egg,’ he said.

‘It’s mine,’ said Krimble.

‘That’s your Narmacil,’ said Inara.

‘That’s right.’

‘The one that gave you the Talent to speak to the other Narmacils,’ said Inara. ‘It imbued you with the ability to coax and steal the Talent from others. Gave you the means to capture and destroy those who came to the marsh. With it, you stole the Talent to alter a path’s course, to lure people to your house. I followed one of your paths; it led me away from my parents.’

‘His body can no longer sustain a Narmacil,’ said Justice. ‘This is the last of the eggs. He will not part with it.’

‘That Narmacil is for the living,’ said Inara, her eyes glittered darkly. ‘Give it to me.’

‘I won’t. Have satisfaction that you have taken everything from me.’

‘Not everything.’ Inara lifted her arms so that her palms spread out before her. ‘Give me the egg.’

Despite his tortured cries Krimble took a step, and then another. His skull, split at the mouth, mewled like a wounded animal. Yellow bone digits cradled the egg, stroking its shell as though it would protect him. Yards dwindled into a mere few feet and still Inara held her arms outstretched, waiting to take the egg.

‘You have punished me enough.’

‘Not yet,’ was her whispered reply.

The clack of bare bone rang in Jack’s head as Krimble drew closer. He remembered the cask of bones outside this man’s home. How many had died to sate Krimble’s desire for more power? Not even Inara knew that number. Jack watched, with a sense of justice, as Krimble pushed the egg away from his chest. The holes in the marsh man’s skull watched as his hands betrayed him by dropping the Narmacil egg into Inara’s waiting embrace.

‘Now I have everything from you,’ said Inara, and smiled.

The wind carried off the moan of loss that escaped Krimble’s jawbone as his bones fell lifeless to the damp floor.

Inara’s shoulders relaxed as though she had dropped a heavy weight as she stared at the stack of bones. Jack studied her, hoping to see a flicker of emotion. She showed none.

‘The vile creature deserved to live in limbo,’ said Kyla. ‘His betrayals deserved a harsher fate.’

Once more Inara laughed. Tears streamed down her face, cutting rivulets through the grime on her cheeks. ‘He tried so long to win my Narmacil from me.’ Her voice cracked, dissecting her laugh, turning it into a growl. ‘We sat at a table; I don’t know for how long, the room had no windows. People came and went; only I refused to give in to him. He begged, threatened, and carried out those threats to have what is mine. Now, at the end,’ she lifted the egg, divided by a silver line, ‘it is I who took what was his.’ The smile that scythed her mouth was terrible. ‘He is nothing, and before I released him, he knew it too.’

‘He was yours to punish,’ said Justice. ‘Come back with us.’ She glanced at the sky, now serene after the storm. ‘The hour is late.’ Her hand, which reached out to Inara, could not distract from the impatience in her voice.

Glancing from the egg to Justice, Inara shook her head. ‘You want the same thing as he did. He wanted to use my Narmacil for his own ends. If I returned with you, then I would be like Huckney, a prisoner within your Wold. I would exist only to serve you. My animals would run through an ever-expanding metal forest. Their hooves would send up clouds of red rust and you would have your world under your control. I want to see my parents again.’ She looked down at the old bandages wrapping her knees.

‘Enough.’ The harsh cry from Kyla stilled the night. ‘Sisters, we must leave. Take the girl by force if you want her. We must kill the boy.’

The light billowing around Justice had lost all warmth. Amber frosted the air, dropping the night temperature by a few more degrees. A grimace replaced her comely smile. ‘Take her,’ she ordered.

The pool of muddy water mirrored Kyla’s leering skull. White hair fanned out like cobwebs in a tomb. Decayed flesh showed on her arms and legs as she floated over the basin toward them.

Beside Jack, Yang had turned into a cat. Hair bristled along the shadow cat’s strong shoulders. Teeth, as long as butcher knives, bit the air as Yang snarled at the approaching woman. The cat doubled in size as it bounded toward Kyla, and then Yang sprang at the Ghost Walker. Jack held his breath, pride for Yang wrestled with his fear. A few feet before Kyla, Yang touched the amber light, and disappeared.

‘He can’t penetrate their light,’ said Jack through numb lips.

Pulling back on Black’s neck, Inara said, ‘No Black, stay here.’

They heard the black wolf’s snarls and the clash of his teeth. Did Black recognise the Ghost Walkers, and remembered what had happened to Silver back in the Red Wood. Jack could see the wolf straining not to jump forward in attack. He knew Bill watched the scene through Black’s eyes. Would Bill, now with his grandparents, see the Ghost Walkers kill them.

‘Take my hand,’ he said to Inara, holding out his. She took it without comment.

When she was only a few feet from them, Kyla came to a sudden, jolting, stop. Her bone mask, with its splattering of decayed flesh, opened up in surprise. Spiralling, her dress flew around her, caught in a whirlwind of her own making. Twisting, she looked as though she fought against a patch of quicksand. The skin spreading over the bridge of her nose filled her cheeks, adding more expression. Amongst the flickering emotion, the most prevalent was raw horror. Kyla looked down to the muddy water to where a skeletal hand had risen from the muck to seize her ankle. She screamed.

At the entrance to the basin, the muddy water swelled upward as something below the surface began to rise. Water ran from the black earth as a shape formed.

‘What’s happening?’ Jack shouted over Kyla’s anguish.

Inara watched the hand that crept up Kyla’s leg, revealing a withered arm, dressed in rotted laced fabric. ‘They’ve come home,’ she said.

A back, its spine clotted with the dirt of its grave, broke through the ground. Riveted on Kyla, Isabelle pulled her face down in fright and disbelief. Unaware of the body behind her that pulled itself from the sucking mire. The nightclothes the corpse wore were a present from her mother. Faded pink flowers, which Isabelle had adored, showed through the clinging mud. Clods of dirt fell from the raised body to strike the pool of water, sending small waves to lap at Isabelle’s feet.

The arm, now revealed to its shoulder, drank in Kyla’s light. Streams of amber threaded its way into the aged bone, imbuing the body with greater strength. Kyla, struggling to free her leg, fell. Her ghost-like form caused no splash. When the gaping skull, so like the face Kyla often chose to wear, surfaced, the Ghost Walker howled in despair.

‘Stop this,’ cried Justice. ‘We only wanted to help you.’

Inara shook her head. ‘You despise life. That is why you cut down the trees, and killed every living thing in the Wold. You even force your precious Myrms to wear masks, to hide their flesh from your eyes.’

‘You are wrong,’ said Justice. ‘We came to protect the boy’s grandmother, and to offer you a better life.’

‘A life of servitude is not a better life,’ replied Inara.

‘I wished to be your friend,’ spoke Isabelle. ‘We are the same age. We are so alike.’

‘We are not the same.’

Behind Isabelle, the corpse in the nightgown, wrapped her arms around Isabelle’s chest. Unlike Kyla, Isabelle did not scream, as the body, her mother had taken to the tree, reclaimed her soul. The light fled swiftly from Isabelle, deserting her body like embers escaping a fire.

Jack was sure he saw a ghost of a smile on Isabelle’s face as she disappeared into her skeletal remains.

Now half emerged from the muddy pool, Kyla’s body pulled itself up to Kyla’s heaving chest. Most of the Ghost Walker’s light had vanished, leaving behind grey skin. ‘Get it off of me,’ she screamed. ‘I don’t want to go into the ground. I promise to leave this place and never come back,’ she pleaded with Inara, though she never looked away from the skeleton slouching out of the mud.

The pressure in Jack’s hand increased as Inara tightened her grip. Her haggard appearance again wrenched at him. How much energy was it taking her, first to bring these bodies up, and then to fight for control of the Ghost Walkers’ souls. He squeezed her hand, hoping to give her the strength to continue.

Kyla’s voice broke when the dirt-caked skull leant down atop her face and drank the last of her light. Without her light, Kyla disappeared, and the relaxed body began to sink back into the soil.

‘You tricked us by bringing us here,’ said Justice.

Then Jack remembered what this place was. People believed that the woodland spirit by possessing the woman had cursed her. Not wishing to contaminate the graves on the hill, they had erected a second graveyard. He looked around at the enclosing walls. Mr Dash never tended this place; he only cared for the headstones on the hill. A few crosses, with the scrawl, "Ghost Walker," written on aged wood, stood near the river, but they buried the bodies here.

‘How many years have you wanted peace?’ asked Inara. ‘You did not find it behind the Hedge Wall. There you only hid from your fears. Here, I can offer you a peace without fear. The village committed a hideous crime against you, and through that act, you became what they presumed you were. By killing the villagers here tonight you betrayed yourself.’ Inara indicated the waiting body at the entrance to the graveyard. ‘The woman you once were waits to take you back. Those who did you wrong are long gone. You cannot hold onto your hatred forever; by continuing as you have, all you spread are new hatreds and fears.’

Justice, looking at the figure of her own self, waiting besides the crumbling wall, let her arms fall to her side. ‘I wanted to make a world free of persecution. When you came into the Wold, you awoke old fears. I suppose our fears are so deeply ingrained that we are nothing without them. There are those in the Wold who harbour even deeper distrust.’

‘The Red Sisters,’ said Jack.

Justice gave a nod.

‘I will return to protect the village if I have to,’ replied Inara.

Justice smiled. ‘The Red Sisters are not from this village. No one knows where they came from. Without the Red Sisters’ graves, how do you propose to protect anyone? For now, you are safe. I will not fight you; my time has come and gone; and the Red Sisters have not left the Wold for hundreds of years. Who knows,’ she said, and gave them a wink, ‘they may not come here at all.’

Tendrils of amber spread forward to touch the waiting body. The light caressed the bone structure with longing. A stream of light touched the swell of a cheekbone, like a hand cupping a child’s face.

‘Rest in peace,’ said Inara.

Justice disappeared into herself and Jack watched as her body slowly sank back into her grave, and, he hoped, the woman Justice once was could now find the rest she could not find in life.

‘Oh Jack,’ said Inara, ‘I am so tired.’ She slumped forward and Jack took her weight. He pulled her from Black and cradled her head against his chest. ‘I just want to sleep,’ she confided.

Warm tears sprang at the corners of Jack’s eyes. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, smoothing her hair as she closed her eyes. ‘Bill,’ he said to the watching wolf, ‘if you can hear me, bring Dr Threshum; hurry.’ Inara felt so light in his arms, he drew her closer, keeping her body away from the dirty water. The cold clamour of her skin made the fright jump up into his throat. Bending closer he heard her soft whispering breaths. ‘If I had a bed to offer you, you could have it,’ he said. ‘I’m sure Bill won’t mind giving his up for you. Rest now Inara, you’ve earned it.’ As her breathing deepened into the steady pattern of sleep, he relaxed. She was going to be all right.