The Color of Darkness (8 page)

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Authors: Ruth Hatfield

BOOK: The Color of Darkness
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“It's Sammael, isn't it?” said Danny, looking over at Cath. “I knew something would happen. I knew he wouldn't just give up. That animal's come from him, hasn't it?”

Cath shook her head. “I don't know nothing more. That's all he said to tell you.”

“How come
you
can talk to it?” Danny asked. “Did you find something?”

“I told you.” Cath shrugged. “He said some people can, that's all. He calls them ‘telas.' He says something happens to them, and then they can talk to some other kind of animal. You're one too, ain't you?”

Danny shook his head. “No, I'm not. And how do you know he's telling the truth, anyway?”

How did she know? She didn't. But she knew when people weren't telling the truth: she'd seen plenty of that. And Barshin had an honest feeling about him, something strong and clear.

Cath turned to the hare. “He don't believe you. We might as well go.”

“No!” said Barshin. “This is important! Tell him I came to learn of this from a hare in a place humans call Great Butford woods. That hare saw Tom there, meeting with Sammael in the dead of night, in the middle of a storm. Since then there have been many stories, here and there—Danny O'Neill must know how these stories reach around, like the tendrils on a creeping plant—and I have spoken to many hares to try and find the truth of them. I have my own reasons for fearing Sammael. He made a bargain with a hare I knew, a long time ago, and I saw what came of that. But the danger for Tom is greater still. Danny O'Neill is the only one who can reach out to Tom and stop him. It is vital that he take on this responsibility. Please tell him that.”

Cath shrugged. “If you want.”

She told Danny as much of what Barshin had said as she could remember. Danny didn't answer. Instead, he left the bus shelter and went over to the hare. He didn't seem to notice the rain either. Cath liked him a little bit for that. She didn't like that he clenched his fists when he looked at Barshin, though. She'd kill Danny O'Neill if he tried to hurt Barshin.

A car splashed along the road. The driver turned her head sideways to stare at the two children out of school, both standing in the rain. Hopefully she was going too fast to see they were talking to a hare in the hedge.

Cath shivered. The rain had soaked her to the skin. She was cold, and there wasn't enough of her to make herself warm again. And she was hungry, too, and her ribs were hurting. People were stupid, Danny had been right. They were stupid, and they stood in the rain and got cold and didn't give each other enough to eat, and these were some of the things that made life rubbish.

It hadn't been raining in Chromos. She hadn't felt cold or hungry—her body hadn't seemed to matter much at all. Why couldn't Danny O'Neill say what he had to say and do what he had to do, so Cath and Barshin could go back to Chromos?

“This rain's horrible,” said Danny. “Let's go somewhere dry.”

*   *   *

They went to the wasteland next to the supermarket and crawled into a huge drainpipe that had been dumped in the corner by the road. Danny went and bought hot fries from the burger van, and Cath ate most of them before anyone had time to speak. Barshin wrinkled his nose at the warm, fatty smell, but didn't ask to try one.

Danny cheered up as soon as he was in the pipe, eating fries.

“I can't do anything about it,” he said. “I know what's happened. Tom's been e-mailing me since last summer, loads of junk about birds and badgers and trying to get me to visit his farm, because he's got all this stuff he wants to show me. He never did that before—I knew something was up. But if that hare's right, and it's to do with Sammael, then there's only one thing Tom could have done, and there's nothing I can do about it. Really, nothing.”

“Geek,” Cath said, not really caring and wishing that there were more fries. “You're scared of everything, ain't you?”

“Yeah,” said Danny. “I am scared. You've got no idea what Sammael did before. Tom never wanted to believe it either—he just told me I was being a stupid little kid. Now he can find out for himself.”

“What are you going on about?”

Danny looked at her and then at the circle of wasteland and gray sky at the end of the pipe.

“Sammael took my parents,” he said. “He was going to gather a massive storm and destroy everybody, but I found out and stopped him. And I thought that was it, trouble over. But of course it wasn't. I know he's still alive somewhere, and this is just the next thing he's trying to do. I'm not going to fight him again. Somebody else can stop him now. You can, if you're so worried about it.”

He flicked a fry at Barshin. The hare declined to touch it, and it lay in the dirt at the bottom of the pipe. Waste of a fry, thought Cath.

“But Sammael's in Chromos, ain't he?” she said. “He ain't here.”

Danny's face stopped in baffled surprise. “Where?”

“Chromos,” repeated Cath. “That place with all the imaginary stuff.”

But Danny ignored the strange name. “
Have you seen him?
” he hissed, dropping the rest of his fries and pushing himself away, ready to spring into escape. “
Did he send you?

“Nah,” said Cath. “Don't be an idiot. I don't know nothin' about him. What are you so scared of, anyway? If you stopped him before, he can't be that bad.”

Danny gave her another sharp look and then turned to the drizzly sky again.

“I killed his dog,” he said. “I didn't mean to, but I did. And he is bad, in every way you can think of. He's making my life hell. He's put all this stuff in my head and now I have nightmares every night, and I can't be normal because I know too much about everything, and I know what horrible things can happen, and sometimes I make mistakes and say something weird so no one at school likes me now. And I got my parents back, but then all I could think about was that tree, so my dad got rid of all the dead wood and covered the patch in grass, but I still can't get it out of my head. My parents keep having to come into my bedroom to wake me up because the nightmares make me scream my head off, like some stupid baby. It's
ridiculous
. I hate it. But it's in my head and I can't get it out.”

He turned back to Cath, his dark eyes lost. Were those tiny pinpricks of color in his black pupils?

“Okay, okay,” said Cath, thinking that he sounded like a little kid whose mummy told him to go out and play with the big boys at the end of the street. “Ain't it this guy Tom you ought to be telling that to, though?”

Danny shook his head again. “There's no point. He'll just say I'm being stupid.”

Cath gave up and turned back to Barshin. “He's right,” she said. “There ain't no point. He ain't going to do anything. So I gave him your message, didn't I? Can we go back to Chromos now?”

“No,” said Barshin. “This is important. We must persuade him to intervene with Tom. I won't take you back to Chromos until we've made him understand.”

Cath thought desperately, trying to find some small clue in what Danny had said. “What about— You said this Sammael's mad at you because you killed his dog, right? So why don't we go into Chromos, and you can imagine up his dog and give it to him in there. Seriously, it's dead easy. In Chromos, you see what you really, really want, so if that's this dog, then it'll be there. And then if he gets his dog back, maybe he'll let this Tom guy go in return. That okay?”

But Danny's face was set in the stubborn expression she'd seen when he'd punched the bus shelter.

“No way. No way am I going anywhere weird. Never. My mum and dad and me all promised each other that none of us would ever go missing again. And anyway, if it was that easy, he'd just have imagined up the dog himself, wouldn't he?”

“He can't!” said Barshin. “Tell Danny he can't! Sammael isn't mortal—he doesn't have dreams, like we do. He can't use Chromos for his own benefit—he can only put its colors into earthly creatures and watch their dreams fly free. He does know his dog is dead—but Danny's imagination could certainly bring a vision of her to life in Chromos. It's a great idea. Tell Danny he should definitely try it.”

Cath did.

“No,” said Danny. “I said, no weird places. No and no and no.”

Cath shrugged to Barshin. “Told you.”

Barshin, having given in and nibbled a bit of a fry only to find it not to his taste at all, gave five tiny sneezes and hopped a step closer to Danny.

“All right,” the hare said. “If he won't try that, then how about this: Sammael gave Tom a book. If Tom doesn't finish reading this book, Sammael will have no power over him. But if he does read the entire book and learn all its contents, then the moment he comes to the end of the last page, he is lost, and there will be no going back. Tom will be free for only as long as the book is unfinished. Danny
must
persuade him to stop reading this book.”

Cath repeated this. Danny sighed and ran his greasy hand through the spikes of his wet hair.

“A book,” he said. “It's not called the Book of Storms, is it? No, it wouldn't be that. There's no Book of Storms anymore. But there're other books. Of course there are.”

He was silent for a long time, staring out of the end of the pipe at the wet parking lot with all the shiny cars trundling around puddles, their engines spitting out raindrops. At last he nodded to himself, and seemed to square his shoulders a little.

“Okay,” he said. “If it'll get you off my back, I'll try.”

“And if it don't work,” said Cath, “then we can go to Chromos and get the dog.”

If Danny went into Chromos to help Tom, Barshin would have to let her come too. And once she was there, she would imagine herself up another Zadoc, and get on his back and never leave.

Danny didn't answer her. He just shrugged and said, “We'll have to go to the farm. Tom's hardly ever at school. The farm's miles away. And I don't have any more money for the bus or anything.”

“You ever get anywhere on your own?” said Cath, curling her lip.

“No. I don't need to.
My
parents look after me.”

Barshin hopped quickly between them, knocking against Cath's hand.

“Okay, okay.” Cath scrambled to her feet to stop herself from punching Danny O'Neill's skinny runt of a face. “We'll get a lift.”

*   *   *

Cath walked up to the road. She didn't try to stop any of the clean, new cars that zoomed past, spraying up blades of brown water. Instead, she waited till a greenish-gray car came along that looked to be made more out of rust than actual metal, and stuck her thumb out.

“He'll never stop,” said Danny.

The car stopped.

“Now what?” Danny hissed.

The driver rolled down the passenger window, all thick neck and shaved scalp. “Cath Carrera,” he said. “Someone's looking for you.”

“Hi, Stan,” said Cath. “Yeah, I know. I don't want him to find me. Can you take us someplace?”

“Maybe. Where?”

Cath looked back at Danny. “Where is it?”

Danny swallowed, his voice barely audible above the engine, and croaked out a few words.

Cath repeated them to Stan. “Sopper's Edge. Out on—”

“I know where it is,” said Stan. “Who's yer friend?”

“Kid from school. Go on. My dad'll kill me if he gets me.”

Stan considered it for a minute and said eventually, “Your dad's a piece of work.”

He nodded his head toward the backseat, but Cath opened the passenger door. Danny stood frozen behind her.

“What?” Cath got in and looked out at him. “Got a problem?”

“I'm not getting in there,” said Danny. “I don't know who he is.”

Cath snorted. “What you gonna do? Run behind?”

“He looks like a … like a
drug dealer
,” hissed Danny. Stan bared his teeth like an Alsatian at a cat.

“What you scared of, kid? You'll be safe with Cath. She's tougher than ten of us.”

Cath grinned for a fraction of a second. The shock of seeing her smile seemed to stun Danny into silence. He opened the back door of the car and Barshin hopped in gamely, leaving Danny with no choice but to follow. He slid down onto the seat.

“Where's the seat belt?” he said nervously.

“Dunno,” said Stan, pulling off the hand brake and stamping on the wheezing accelerator pedal. “Been wondering that since I got the car. Let me know if you find it.”

In the rearview mirror Cath saw Danny's arms: rigid, going straight downward. He was gripping the edge of the seat as though it were his last hold on life.

She took her eyes off him and watched the town dwindle away around them. It felt good to be driving away from Dad. Away from Johnny White.

If only she never had to go back.

 

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