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Authors: Sally Green

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Violence

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BOOK: Half Wild
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Slovakia

We arrive at the place just as it’s getting dark. We’ve been driving all day, apart from when we stopped to change the limousine for a less conspicuous car. The castle looks more like a large country house with turrets. Set in a thick forest at the end of a long drive, it definitely is secluded.

Van and Nesbitt go inside. Nesbitt says he’ll have some food ready in ten minutes. I’m hungry but I’ve spent all day in the car and I don’t want to be inside now when I’ll have to use the nightsmoke. I tell Gabriel that I’m going to sleep in the forest. When he says he’ll come with me, I shake my head.

“No. I’m better off alone, Gabriel. You stay in the castle.”

“But—”

“Please, Gabriel. I’m too tired to argue. I need to be alone.”

I go into the trees and find a sheltered place. I’m almost dizzy with tiredness but this place is good. It’s old and quiet and I know Gabriel won’t come when I’ve asked him not to. I close my eyes and welcome sleep.

I wake to a faint noise. Footsteps. Not human but small and hesitant. A deer.

My animal adrenaline rises quickly but I breathe slowly in and out—really, really slowly—and hold my breath, and hold it and hold it and say to myself, “Calm, calm.” I don’t want to stop the animal taking over; I’m noticing the increasing adrenaline as it’s released into me and I’m letting it build slowly. I hold my breath and then breathe out. The slower the transformation the better, I think. I don’t want to shock my body. I want to get used to it and more than anything I want to remember what happens when I’ve transformed. I breathe in slowly and I tell myself to stay aware. I hold my breath in and then let it out in a long, steady stream and allow the adrenaline to flood through me.

* * *

i see the deer. the animal i’m in follows after her. he’s totally silent, keeping low, only moving when he’s sure he won’t be spotted. the deer stops. her ears twitch. she raises her head and looks around. she’s beautiful. i don’t want to kill the deer but the animal i’m in is bunching his hind legs, ready to charge forward. i say to him, “no, don’t kill her.” i’m calm, talking to him quietly, trying to tame him. the deer tenses. she’s sensed something and she bends, ready to jump away, as he leaps at her and i’m shouting at him, “no, no”—

* * *

I wake up. It’s still dark. I know by the taste in my mouth that the deer was dinner. My hands and face are covered in blood and, raising my head, I see its remains near me. I remember some of what happened. I remember hearing the deer when I was me, in my human body, and I remember the animal adrenaline rising, and I must have transformed but I don’t remember that. No, I don’t remember any of that. I do remember that I tried to stop him attacking her. I was shouting at him from inside his body but the animal I’m in didn’t listen. He killed her anyway.

I feel the deer’s body: she’s still warm.

I find a calm pool in the river to wash in and then I lie down near it. I can’t sleep now. I’m not tired but I’m confused. The animal didn’t pay any attention to me. He is me but isn’t me. He killed the deer even though I didn’t want him to. He does what he likes.

* * *

When it’s light I go to the castle to look for Van. I’m frustrated by my Gift; I’m frustrated by everything. We’re not getting closer to helping Annalise, and Gabriel needs to get back to his witch form. I stomp from kitchen to dining room, music room to ballroom to gunroom, eventually coming across Nesbitt, who says, “Van’s in the study. She’d like a word.”

I head the way Nesbitt has come, pushing open a heavy oak door, and am greeted by, “You look like you could do with one of these.” Van lights a cigarette and offers me one but I shake my head.

The study is wood-paneled. There’s a large desk made of chrome and black glass, covered with rows of plates. I go over to take a closer look. On each small plate is a heap of different-colored material. The piles are mostly fine grains, herbs perhaps, but some are coarser than others and some look like large seeds.

I reach out to touch one of the piles. “Please don’t,” Van says and I withdraw my hand. She’s sitting on a chair at the side of the room and is dressed in a pinstriped man’s suit today. “I’ve been working on the potion for Gabriel, finding the correct combination of ingredients.”

“You’ve got it?”

“Yes, now that the final two ingredients are here.”

“Which are . . . ?”

“The rain that fell when we were in Geneva is one. Nesbitt collected some of it: fallen at night, at full moon.”

“That really makes a difference?”

She looks at me as if I’m mad. “Everything makes a difference, Nathan.”

I remember my gran said that plants’ properties were different depending on the cycle of the moon when they were picked, so I guess rainwater could be different too. And why not anything else? My healing abilities change with the moon.

“And what’s the other ingredient?” I ask.

“Oh, I think you know that,” Van says, and stubs out her cigarette.

And the way she says it and looks at me gives me the feeling that something of me is the ingredient. “My blood?” I guess.

Van smiles up at me. “Oh no, dear boy—it’s much darker than that. We need to use your soul.”

Magical Mumbo-Jumbo

I’m sitting behind the desk in Van’s study, watching her smoke another of her cigarettes.

“Gabriel can’t find his way back to himself because his Gift is so strong—exceptionally strong. He has become such a good fain that he can’t recover that element of himself that is the Black Witch.”

“I guess that sounds plausible,” I reply.

“Gosh, thanks, Nathan.” She comes over to lean on the desk close to me. “But that Black Witch element of him is still inside. He needs to find it and he needs a strong witch to guide him to it.”

“But why me? I’m not a Black Witch; I’m a Half Code.”

“White, Black, half and half—it doesn’t matter. He needs a witch he trusts. And he trusts you completely. He also believes you’re a great witch.”

I shake my head. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Have you any idea what he really thinks of you?” She drags on her cigarette. “He sees you as the ultimate witch.”

“What?”

“The rejoining of Black and White in one person. As the original witches were, with the strengths of both sides.”

“Oh! But . . .” But I really don’t know what to say to that.

Just then there’s a knock on the door and Nesbitt comes in, carrying a tray. “Grub’s up!” he says. “Just brought you some tea and toast, Van.”

“Thank you, Nesbitt. Could you ask Gabriel to join us as well, please?”

“Now?”

“That’s the general idea,” Van says.

And Nesbitt disappears, saying, “I’m not actually a servant, you know. I’m a partner in this relationship and I think we both know who the most hardworking one is . . .” But his whinging fades as he walks down the corridor.

“I’d be lost without him.”

I’m not sure how to say that they seem totally incompatible so instead I go with, “He’s very handy.”

“Yes, he is. I trained him in most things. And, to be fair, he’s a good learner. We’ve been together for twenty-five years.”

“Twenty-five?” Van looks no more than twenty to me but she always acts much older, more experienced. “How old are you, Van?”

“A rather rude question if you don’t mind me saying. But one of the many uses of potions is the option to keep a more youthful appearance.”

Gabriel comes into the room and closes the door, virtually pushing it in Nesbitt’s face. His complaints can be heard through the heavy wood.

“Gabriel, thank you for coming so quickly. I was just telling Nathan that we are nearly ready to help you get back to your true self.”

“OK,” Gabriel says cautiously, and sits down opposite me.

“So what do we do?” I ask.

“You both drink the potion I make. You’ll be bound together and enter a trance, and together you’ll find the essence that is the old Gabriel. Think of it as a cord. You find it and then make your way back along it to the here and now.”

I look at Gabriel and shake my head slightly. He meets my eyes and, as if he knows what I’m thinking, says, “It’s magic. None of it makes sense—yet it all makes sense.”

I roll my eyes and turn to Van. “And what if we don’t find the essence or we follow the cord the wrong way?”

“Then you stay in the trance.”

“What? Forever?”

“Until you die of starvation.”

“Not a nice way to go,” I say.

“I always thought I’d be more the shot-down-in-a-hail-of-bullets type.” Gabriel smiles at me. “But I tried that and it wasn’t so great either.”

“So how long should it take?” I ask.

Van lights another cigarette and blows out the smoke. “As long as it takes.”

“You mean you don’t know.”

She doesn’t reply.

“And how likely is it that we don’t find it?” I ask.

“I’ve really no idea. It’s entirely down to you two.”

“I don’t like it but I’ll do it.”

“I’m so glad you’re enthusiastic, Nathan. That always helps.” Van rests her hand lightly on my leg and pats it. “Fortunately this location is an advantage. Trees and a river and ancient hills are so much more you.” And she looks into my eyes and the blue of hers sparkles. “Unfortunately we still have one small problem.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“It will be too dangerous to perform under anything more than a new moon.”

“What? But that’s two weeks away.” I’m standing now.

“Yes.” Van blows another slow, steady plume of smoke into the air.

“But Annalise . . . She could die. Hunters may find Mercury and kill them both or capture them.”

“I think we can have some confidence in Mercury’s abilities to hide from the Hunters. After all, she’s been doing it for decades.”

“But Annalise will be getting weaker. We can’t just wait here for two weeks.”

“Yes, we can, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do, Nathan. You’re right—Annalise will be getting weaker but we still have time. She can survive in that condition for many months.”

“It’s easy for you to say when you’re walking around alive and well and free.”

I go toward the desk. I want to swipe all her piles of herbs onto the floor. But Gabriel must see where I’m heading and he blocks my way. I swear at him and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I feel childish for doing that but then I see Nesbitt standing in the corridor, smirking at me. I’m not sure if he’s been eavesdropping but I push him aside and kick and hit everything I can on my way out of the house.

Telling Gabriel

I find a way to fill two weeks. I know I need to get back to my peak fitness, and there’s nothing much else for me to do, so I start training. I get fitter cos of the training but also because of my Gift. Since I got it my body has felt stronger, more alive. I train with Nesbitt and Gabriel during the day and I train at night too. I can keep going all night easy enough if I have a couple of naps during the day.

Most mornings, first thing, I go for a run with Gabriel and Nesbitt but I always end up running on my own after a couple of miles. We meet up at dawn and they groan a bit and make a few comments about the weather and their aching muscles and we do some stretching. And I think today might be all right with them but every day turns out pretty much the same, with Nesbitt winding me up. He takes the piss out of me for everything—mainly for being impatient but also for being silent or miserable, or he takes the piss out of my boots or my hair, my face, my eyes. There’s always a comment about my eyes. Sometimes I really do think he wants me to hit him.

Mostly I think if I stay with them he’ll get bored with teasing me but then I feel myself getting mad and so, one way or another, I leave them behind and run on my own, and it’s better like that. I don’t know why I even bother with them first thing but every day I hope that somehow it’ll be good to be together. It never is.

After my run I have breakfast. I make porridge. Nesbitt makes fancy stuff—eggs florentine yesterday—for Van and Gabriel. He does all that and waits on Van while I eat in the kitchen. Gabriel always stays with me. Nesbitt sometimes has porridge with us; that’s when he’s sort of OK. He doesn’t talk too much then, and I just eat.

After that I have a morning nap, lying in the sun if there is any. Next I do more training, then I go hiking, usually on my own, sometimes with Gabriel. Then it’s lunch followed by another nap. Late afternoon or early evening I do some fighting practice with Nesbitt. He’s good but I beat him every time. I always comment on how old and slow and fat he is, and he always smiles and laughs and takes everything I say as a compliment. Gabriel sometimes watches us but he doesn’t join in the fighting or the banter. Mostly he practices his shooting; he’s good with a gun and also with a bow and crossbow. Like Van, he manages to make everything he does seem easy and elegant. I try the guns too but I hate them.

In the evening I shower in the castle and we have dinner, with Nesbitt acting as chef and waiter. When it gets dark I move to the forest. And then the day is over and there’s one less until I see Annalise.

I’ve been sleeping in the forest. I like it here. The forest is a good place; when I’m alone in it I feel relaxed. I only transformed that first time. Every night I wait to see if it’ll happen again. I want to learn about it, learn how to control it, and I do think this remote, ancient place is perfect for that.

I skipped food for a day to see if that would work but it didn’t. I think it might be because no animal, no potential prey, crossed my path. Tonight I’m trying something different. I’ve not eaten all day and I’m going hunting, but I don’t want to kill anything. I want to transform, hunt but not kill, and persuade the animal me to come back here. I’ve brought some meat from the kitchen and I lay it out on the ground.

As soon as it’s dark I set off through the forest. I know there are some foxes in the area so I’m heading to their den. I work my way slowly and silently through the trees until I can see the tangle of branches that surrounds the entrance. I crouch down on my haunches and wait.

I have to wait most of the night but as soon as a small fox sticks her nose out of the den my animal adrenaline kicks in. I breathe slowly and steadily, waiting. I want to control it, see if I can at least hold it off until I’m ready. I don’t want to kill the fox. I want to transform and find a way to stop myself killing her, even if all I do is make the animal me go back to the meat that I’ve left behind. I have to learn how to control him. Stop him from killing.

I breathe slow and watch; the adrenaline is in me but it’s not overpowering. I tell myself, “We follow her. That’s all. We follow her and let her live.”

The fox hasn’t sensed me and is trotting away. I stop the controlled breathing and concentrate on the smell of the fox.

* * *

i’m in the animal body. the den is in front of me. there’s a strong smell of fox, much stronger now. the fox is moving away fast. he, the animal i’m in, goes after her. i tell him, “no, let her go,” but he keeps following the fox. i say, “no, stop,” and again “no!” i try to turn the animal round but he keeps on going after the fox. i have no control over him. he’s gaining on the fox. “no!” i shout, angry at him now. “no!” but he’s gaining quickly. his strides are huge compared to the fox’s. the fox stops, turns, and i shout, “no! don’t kill her. there’s better meat nearby. no!” and try to hold the animal body still, try to stiffen his muscles, but i have no muscles and it doesn’t work. he is racing to the fox and is on her and i’m shouting, “no! stop!” but tasting blood . . .

* * *

I wake up. I still taste blood. The body of the fox is by my head. A mess of fur and guts and bone. I want to pick it up and hurl it away. I hate the animal me. Hate him. He can’t be me. I didn’t want to kill the fox. I told him not to kill it. He didn’t need to kill it. I shout and swear with frustration at the fox’s stiffening body but I’m really shouting at the animal in me. I hope he can hear me. I hope he knows I hate him. I don’t want this Gift. I hate everything about it.

* * *

By dawn I’ve calmed down. I’m not sure what to do about my Gift. If I can’t control it I could kill anyone. I’m not sure if I should ask Van about it. She’s knowledgeable about many aspects of witchcraft, so perhaps she can help me, but I don’t want to rely on her. I want to work it out myself. And I haven’t even told Gabriel yet.

At dawn I wash quickly in the river and go to meet up with Gabriel and Nesbitt for our run. They’re standing together, talking, and Gabriel smiles as I approach.

He says, “You’re looking even more messed up than usual,” and he reaches over to my hair, saying, “What’s that?”

I back away from him, tearing at my hair, finding bits of stuff, dried blood and other bits . . . tiny bits. And all I can hear is Nesbitt sniggering as he says, “Last night’s leftovers?” I turn back to him and before I know it my knife is in my hand and I’m striding toward Nesbitt, who’s pulling his blade out too.

Gabriel moves between us. “Nathan. Calm down.”

I push my hand against Gabriel’s chest but I can’t speak. I know I shouldn’t do anything but if Nesbitt says one more word I really will stick the knife in his fat guts.

Gabriel stays there, barring my way, and Nesbitt stands behind him, grinning.

“Nesbitt, go back to the castle. I need to talk to Nathan.”

And Nesbitt, still grinning, salutes Gabriel behind his back, then turns and dances away.

Gabriel touches my arm. “Nathan. He’s just winding you up.”

“And that means I shouldn’t kill him?”

He doesn’t reply at first. Then he shakes his head. “Please don’t. He’s the best cook for miles. And I don’t want to end up doing the washing-up. Get your own back by complaining his soup is too salty. That’ll hurt him more than a knife in the guts.”

“He drives me mad with all his stupid comments.” I take a breath and say, “I overheard him talking to Van when we were in Geneva. He said that I didn’t know it but I was already his friend.” I shake my head. “I just don’t get him.”

“I think all this is Nesbitt’s way of showing he likes you. He’s half Black Witch, Nathan. Don’t treat him like a fain.”

“I don’t!”

“You don’t show him any respect.”

I look over to Nesbitt’s figure in the distance. He’s not dancing now but is walking slowly to the castle. “I’m not sure I feel much respect for him.”

“I think you do. He’s a good fighter. A good tracker. He’s just bad at jokes.”

I feel stupid holding my knife now and I put it away.

Gabriel reaches out and feels my hair, pulling at bits in it. “Tell me about this stuff.”

I try to speak but I don’t know what to say. The forest behind me is quiet. The wind is moving over the trees and they seem to be hushing each other. I want to find the right word to begin but can’t.

“Is it to do with your Gift?” he asks. “Can you tell me?”

I manage to mumble, “I have the same Gift as my father, the turning-into-animals thing. I’m trying to learn how to control it but . . . I can’t.”

“Is that why you want to be alone at night?”

“Yes. I’m dangerous. You shouldn’t be near me. No one should.”

I look into Gabriel’s eyes but don’t focus on them so that I can manage to say, “I caught a fox last night. I thought I might be able to stop him but I couldn’t.”

“Him?”

“The animal me. I tried to tell him not to kill the fox but he doesn’t listen to me. He wanted to kill it. To eat it. And he did. I experience it all, see it, hear it, smell it. Taste it. But I can’t control it.” I glance at the ground, then back at the trees behind me. I’m not sure I can say all this but I force myself to go on. “His first kill, my first kill, wasn’t a fox.”

“What was it?” Gabriel asks quietly.

“A Hunter.” I’ve remembered more of it since it happened and now I can’t un-remember it. “I woke up with her blood on my hands . . . in my mouth. Over my face. My hands were dripping with it. I didn’t remember it at first but now I do. I ripped the Hunter’s stomach open with my claws and her guts were half hanging out and I buried my head in her stomach. I remember that clearly—red everywhere and the taste of it and pushing my face inside her to bite into her and rip her apart.

“I mean, I killed that other Hunter in Geneva. I broke her neck. I thought that was bad enough. But this one—I had my head, my snout, inside her.”

“That was the animal. The other you.”

“The animal’s still me. Another part of me.” I take a breath before I say, “She was still screaming, Gabriel. I had my face buried in her and she was still screaming.”

I look away and then back to Gabriel. “I thought having my Gift would be great and in a way it is. I feel stronger physically but inside, right inside, in that place where you got lost or whatever, I’m . . . it’s like there’s someone, some
thing
else living in me. And he comes out and takes over. But I know he’s still me, another part of me, a completely wild, uncaring me.” I pause, take a breath, and I tell him, “I killed Kieran too.”

“Kieran? Annalise’s brother?”

I nod. “I’d seen him at Mercury’s cottage and I thought about killing him—I mean, fighting him and stabbing him—but I didn’t do it. I walked away. But then he and his partner trailed me. Nesbitt killed his partner and I, the animal me, killed Kieran.”

And I’m beginning to remember more of it now. “Kieran screamed too. Once. I ripped his throat out. I can remember the taste of him and how slick he felt in my mouth. I licked his blood.”

My eyes fill with tears and I feel stupid and like I’m a hypocrite for crying cos I wanted Kieran dead. I disgust myself by crying. I turn away from Gabriel and try to straighten up, wipe my wet cheeks with my sleeve. When I turn back Gabriel’s eyes are on me still.

“It was bad. Nesbitt was sick when he saw Kieran’s body. If Nesbitt was sick . . .”

“None of this means you’re bad, Nathan.”

“It doesn’t mean I’m good!”

“You killed him like an animal would. I know that might not be a comfort to you now but the animal acts on instinct. An animal isn’t evil, isn’t good or bad.”

Then he says, “Can I ask you something?” He hesitates and says, “Did you eat the Hunter’s heart? Or Kieran’s heart? Did you take their Gifts?”

I shake my head. “The animal kills them, rips them apart. But he’s not interested in Gifts. He just wants to kill.”

“I think he wants to survive. He’s not evil, Nathan.”

Gabriel is close to me and he reaches forward and brushes away more of my tears with his fingertips. His touch is gentle.

It’s good to feel him.

And Gabriel leans closer and closer and, very slowly and gently, he kisses me, on the lips, with infinite tenderness, so that our skin is barely touching. I pull away a little but he stays close to me. “Don’t hate yourself. Don’t hate any bit of yourself.”

Gabriel pulls me to him and holds me and I feel his warm breath through my hair.

I’m not sure what to do about Gabriel holding me and kissing me. I don’t know what I feel about it. He does it to show me how he feels. But he must know I don’t feel the same way. I can’t change that. But I do love him. He’s my friend, my best friend, and I love him loads and loads. And I keep on crying and he keeps on holding me.

We stay like that a long time. The trees stay the same too and I still look at them and only them. When I’ve finally stopped crying Gabriel releases me. We sit down on the grass and I lie back and cover my face with my arm.

“You OK?” he asks.

“I’m the son of Marcus, the most feared of Black Witches. I’m a Hunter-eating animal. And I’m a complete crybaby. Course I’m OK.”

“Accept your Gift, Nathan. Don’t fight it.”

BOOK: Half Wild
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