Gravenhunger (15 page)

Three times he dragged himself backwards … three times he repositioned the bolt … and then he stopped, spread-eagled over the surface of the mound.

Now he must wait…now he must hold firm until after the next tremor. There was no way he could risk being flung towards the pit again. He didn’t have the strength to get himself back a second time.

He listened for the familiar rumbling of the earth, squeezing his eyes shut against the hot blanket of dust that was surely about to envelop him.

But it did not come.

Thirty seconds must have passed since the last tremor … forty … fifty … and all around him there had descended a peculiar hush. It was as if the mound itself was holding its breath…

His face still pressed to the earth, Phoenix opened his eyes.

It was a moment before he realized that he was staring straight down into one of the narrow little hollows … and that it was quite, quite empty.

He lifted his head, then caught his breath.

To one side of the empty hollow, wreathed in dust, was a shadowy figure.

It seemed that someone had been waiting for him.

14.
THE REWARD

It was a face he knew almost as well as his own – a face that had stared out at him countless times from the faded old family album.

Younger than the one he was used to, it was true. Much younger. But very definitely the same.

Still gripping the anchored bolt, Phoenix swallowed back the dryness in his throat.

“Is it really you?” he whispered.

The ghostly figure looked back at him sadly.

For a time there was silence, except for the churning of the pit in the centre of the mound.

“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you?” said Phoenix. “You were here earlier on.”

He frowned.

“But why do you look so sad? I don’t understand.
You must realize now that what happened to Lorenzo wasn’t your fault?”

The figure bowed its head.

“But it wasn’t!” cried Phoenix. “Really, it wasn’t!”

He winced as the bolt pulsed with a fresh surge of heat.

Very soon he was going to have to put it back inside the empty hollow. There was no way this lull in the tremors was going to last for long. And once the bolt had been replaced, who knew whether this sad-looking child-ghost of his mother would still be here for him to talk to? But he had a few moments, surely? Enough time at least to try and convince her that she wasn’t to blame for everything that had happened all those years ago. And until then he mustn’t let go of the bolt, however much it hurt. It was the only thing standing between him and the menacing pit beyond.

“Look,” he went on. “I don’t know exactly what went on that day – whether you could have stopped Lorenzo from coming over here or not. But you weren’t to know the mound was cursed. That there was something – some
one
– down there, protecting their treasure. You saw what happened to me, didn’t you? And you must have heard what I told Rose? About the voice luring me into the river?”

He shuddered.

“Nothing could have prevented me from obeying that voice. Nothing in the world. And it must have been the same for poor Lorenzo. He wouldn’t have had any choice.”

His mother’s ghost looked back at him – and there was a new stillness in her face.

“It’s why you’re here on the mound, isn’t it?” said Phoenix. “Because you’ve never been able to let go of what happened?”

He shook his head.

“You’ve got to put it all behind you now.
Whatever
that might mean for you. Somehow you’ve got to move on to something better.”

A smile flickered on his lips.

“Just listen to me!” he said. “Lecturing my own mother! It’s kind of hard to know what to say to you.”

He glanced away.

“Except – well, except there is something I want to say. I want you to know how much I’ve missed you. You were such a brilliant mum to me – the best anyone could ever wish for. And it’s really hard without you. But I’ve got to get on with it. I’ve got to pull myself together and try to enjoy life.”

The ghostly figure reached towards him, and for the briefest of seconds Phoenix felt the whisper of a touch upon his shoulder.

“You know I lost the little silver angel, don’t you?” he murmured. “It was his, wasn’t it? It belonged to Lorenzo.”

The figure smiled.

“Then I’m doubly sorry for losing it. I know what that angel must have meant to you, and I wish more than anything else that I could have it back.”

They both started as a familiar rumbling rose up from the depths of the earth.

“Looks like someone’s losing patience,” murmured Phoenix, biting his lip as the iron bolt seared into his fist.

He stared at his mother’s ghost.

“I’ll never forget you,” he said. “Never. And I hope you get to be with him again. With Lorenzo, I mean.”

He wrenched the bolt from the ground and unclenched his blistering fingers over the empty hollow, watching as it dropped into place.

The rumbling died to nothing – and looking up, he saw that the dust was melting away … the milky light was fading … the vortex was slowing … the hollows and the central pit were filling in…

A shower of earth jetted up from the middle of the mound, as if in some final gesture of farewell, landing on the surface with a gentle patter – and then there was only stillness and silence.

Phoenix turned back towards the place where the
ghostly figure had been.

But he knew even before he looked that it had vanished.

Rose watched as the veil of dust and sleet dissolved and a golden brightness filtered through the air.

Something quite remarkable had happened up there, that much was obvious. Something which seemed to have quelled the warrior-king’s anger.

The gulf in the earth was sealing itself back up, and as the sun scorched away the damp coldness she could feel her fears for Phoenix melting away too.

He’d only been gone five or ten minutes, yet it felt like hours since he had scrambled up the side of the mound, and with each fresh tremor her view had become more and more obscured. She hadn’t been able to hear much either, except for the juddering of the earth and the howling of the wind, although in the last few minutes she could have sworn she had heard the sound of her cousin’s voice.

She waited until the chasm had mended completely – and then, still holding the toy boat, she began to clamber up the mound.

She saw him at once, standing to one side, his back towards her.

Everything had changed: the ground was smooth
and flat and the outline of the boat had disappeared beneath a covering of fresh new grass. All that remained of what had been was a light scattering of soil in the centre of the mound.

Rose approached her cousin, her footfall soft upon the grass, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

He spun round. “Rose!” he gasped. He stared at her, his face chalky-white. “I … I thought you were someone else. I thought…”

“You thought what?” said Rose. “It was only ever going to be me, wasn’t it?”

“Yes … yes … of course… Ignore me. I…”

Rose’s expression softened.

“You thought it was that silhouette, didn’t you?” she said. She squeezed his shoulder. “I honestly don’t think you’ll be seeing that again, Phoenix. It’s all over now. Whatever miracle you’ve managed to work up here, everything’s gone back to normal.”

Phoenix bent his head.

“You’re right,” he said. “I won’t be seeing it again.”

He sank down to the ground.

“The trouble is, part of me wishes I still could. Part of me wishes it was here this minute, scaring the living daylights out of me like before.”

“But—”

“It was my mother, Rose. She was the silhouette.
She’d been watching me from the moment I set foot on here.”

“Your
mother
?”

Phoenix sighed.

“I came back to have one more look at the treasure,” he said. “I couldn’t help myself. But then the mound went crazy and I suddenly realized what I had to do. I needed to return the last iron bolt.”

He looked up at his cousin.

“The pit started to suck me towards it and I was almost dragged in. But I managed to get myself back, and just as I’d found the empty hollow and was about to drop the bolt inside, I saw her. The child-ghost of my mother. Exactly as she had been when she lived here.”

Rose stared back at him, open-mouthed.

“She’d obviously spent her entire life believing she was to blame for Lorenzo’s death,” went on Phoenix. “That’s why she ended up here when she died, unable to rest in peace.”

He reached out in front of him and broke off a blade of grass.

“Of course, when she saw what happened to me, she must have realized the same thing had happened to Lorenzo. But I think she needed my blessing too. It was as if she needed to hear it from me that it hadn’t been her fault – that most of what had taken
place that day had been beyond her control.”

He held the grass taut between his fingers, then snapped it in two.

“I was only with her for a few minutes and then the rumbling started up again and I had to put the bolt back into the earth. And … and when I turned round she’d gone.”

There was a long silence, broken only by the cry of a solitary curlew circling above them.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Phoenix at last. “You reckon I dreamed up the bit about my mother, don’t you? You reckon it’s just what I
want
to believe.”

Rose sat down beside him.

“I don’t think that at all,” she said. “I believe what you say completely. Why shouldn’t I?”

She turned Lorenzo’s toy boat round in her hands.

“If you really want to know, I think you’re pretty cool. To have worked it all out like that. And to have made everything all right again.”

Phoenix flushed.

He shot his cousin a quick grin. “You’re just about OK, you know. For a girl, that is.”

Rose lunged at him, and the little boat jerked out of her hands and landed on the ground between them.

“What are you going to do with that, then?” she said, gesturing towards it. “Will you take it home with you?”

Phoenix shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I reckon it belongs here at Gravenhunger.”

He picked up the boat and ran his finger over the sweep of the hull.

“I guess Lorenzo never did get to sail it that day, did he? Perhaps we should do the job for him and let it go on the river. What do you think?”

Rose smiled. “I think it’s exactly what he would’ve wanted.”

“Then let’s do it,” said Phoenix, pulling himself upright.

He turned and started to walk towards the edge of the mound.

“Hang on a minute,” said Rose, halfway to her feet. “Phoenix, wait! What’s that over there in the middle?”

Phoenix looked at where she was pointing.

“It’s just a bit of earth, that’s all. The pit had a sort of crazy last-minute fit and chucked up a load of loose soil…”

He trailed off as a brilliant ray of sunlight illuminated something small and bright lying in amongst the scattered earth.

The next moment he was darting forward.

“The silver angel!” he cried, scooping it up. “How did that get there? It’s like it’s been given back to me.”
He pressed his mother’s keepsake into his hand. “It was Lorenzo’s, you know. At least, I think that’s what my mother was telling me. It feels as if I’ve got a bit of both of them now.”

He rejoined his cousin and together they made their way down the side of the mound, basking in the welcome heat of the sunshine.

When they reached the riverbank, Phoenix knelt down and settled Lorenzo’s boat on the water.

“There,” he said, giving it a gentle nudge. “Go, little boat. Go where you belong.”

They watched as it bobbed away down the sparkling river, heading for the open sea.

“Time to get back,” said Phoenix, making for the tree-trunk bridge. “You never know, Dad might change his mind about leaving when he sees what’s happened to the weather.”

Rose glanced at him. “Is that what you want? To stay?”

Her cousin nodded.

“Just so long as we don’t go messing about on the mound, I reckon we could have a great time here this summer.”

They shuffled across the bridge and set off through the forest, pausing as they heard an engine purring down the track towards them.

“It’s Dad!” cried Phoenix. “Come on! I’ll race you!”

He charged onward, shielding his eyes against the flashes of sunlight streaming between the trees.

Bursting out of the pines into the stillness of the hot July afternoon, he let out a low cry.

From the branches of the old apple tree, the two wooden swings hung as they had always done.

But they were no longer still.

They were moving together in perfect harmony, backwards and forwards…backwards and forwards…

And above the noise of the approaching engine, Phoenix and Rose could hear the unmistakable sound of faraway laughter.