The Feral Child (6 page)

“Here, here, enough of this!” a loud voice boomed as huge hands lifted her up into the air and shook her by the scruff of the neck. She glared at Danny around the torso of a giant of a man and had to be shaken a couple of times before she stopped trying to make a grab for him.

“Enough of this! What’s going on here?” boomed the man. He bent to take a look at Maddy’s face. “I know you—you’re Bat Kiely’s granddaughter, aren’t you?”

Maddy recognized Seamus Hegarty. She was bound to get in trouble now.

“What are you doing in here at night? You know you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Nothing,” said Maddy.

“She’s trying to sacrifice the dog,” said Danny. “It’s a sick Halloween joke. She’s trying to raise the Devil.”

“Shut up!” yelled Maddy, and she went for him again, lashing out with her feet as Seamus pulled her back.
She kept kicking even when he shook her so hard her teeth hurt, and then she found herself being lifted off the ground, and the collar of her jacket cut into her windpipe. She felt the blood rush to her face, and she gasped and clawed at his hands, her legs kicking empty air. She heard Roisin scream.

“Putting blood on the mound, eh?” he growled. His eyes glowed up at her, and she saw his pupils were round and silver like full moons. “Little girls should be very careful what they wish for.” She thought she saw the shadow of antlers over his head, a full spread like a stag’s, before everything went black.

And then it was very, very quiet.

Chapter Nine

Maddy opened her eyes to find herself lying
flat on her back, the backpack digging into her spine. The sky above her was a flat metallic gray, but there was no rain, no snow. The ground felt funny.

She sat up quickly in a flurry of what looked like black sand, and millions of particles rose to streak the air around her like smoke. They took an age to spin and fall back to the ground, their jet facets glittering and twinkling in the dim light. Overhead, a pale sun burned weakly through the gray haze, and the black sand stretched as far as she could see. She got up slowly, sand bouncing and swirling in time with each movement of her legs and arms, clinging to the air around her. She trudged to where she could see Roisin and Danny lying on the ground. They groaned and began to sit up.

“Where are we?” said Danny.

“Where’s George?” said Roisin. “George? George? C’mere, boy!”

Maddy felt her heart sink. Then she looked around and spied a little splash of white against the black. She stumbled forward, feeling heavy-limbed and dazed, to where George sat staring listlessly into space. He looked up at her as she bent to pick him up, and he wagged his tail half-heartedly, curling into her stomach as she zipped him into her jacket. Roisin glared at Maddy as she flopped back down next to her, George’s little face peeking out from under her chin.

“OK, so where are we then?” she demanded.

Maddy shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. You’re supposed to be the expert.”

“Why? Because I looked some stuff up on the Internet?” said Roisin. “Where are we? I want to go home.”

“If you didn’t want to be here, then why did you follow me?” said Maddy.

“I didn’t know you were doing . . . this. Besides, I didn’t want you to get into trouble,” said Roisin.

“More like you couldn’t bear to be left out of anything,” said Maddy. “No way anyone can do anything around here without having you tag along, is there? Why don’t you take a day off from yourself and—”

“WILL THE TWO OF YOU SHUT UP AND TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON?” roared Danny. “Where the bloody hell are we?”

Maddy shot Roisin a look out of the corner of her eye. It was going to be very embarrassing explaining all this, and she could see Roisin’s cheeks turning pink already. She told Danny the whole story, bracing herself for his reaction.

“Faeries!” he spat. “I know you’re a dreamy eejit, Roisin, with your head always stuck in a book, but I thought you had a little bit more sense, Maddy. Why not say little green men had carried him off?”

“You’re right, Danny, it’s all in my head,” said Maddy, as she crossed her arms over a whimpering George. “I’m making the whole thing up. That’s why we’re in the middle of desert full of oddly behaved black sand. It’s because I’m bonkers.”

Danny glared at her, but he couldn’t help it—his eyes slid away to look at the ground and he went quiet.

“Have you noticed there’s no weather here?” said Roisin, as she lifted her hands from the sand and watched it swirl around her fingertips.

“What are you on about now?” asked Danny impatiently.

“Think about it,” said Roisin, still staring at her hands. “It looks like we’re in a desert, but I don’t feel hot or cold—or anything at all, to be honest.”

Maddy thought about this for a second and then licked her finger and held it up. “No wind,” she said.

Danny sniffed. “No smells either,” he said.

“This is a nothing place,” said Roisin.

Danny and Maddy looked at each other in panic.

“A ‘nothing place’? What’s a ‘nothing place’?” said Danny. “Are we in
purgatory
?”

“I dunno. Are faeries Catholics?” asked Roisin.

A cool breeze sprang up. The sand fought against it but was driven back through their hair and clothes.

“There’s someone out there,” said Maddy, pointing straight ahead. They squinted into the distance and saw something white reflecting the rays of the weak sun.

It was moving toward them, its shape becoming clearer until Maddy could see it was a white stag with a massive spread of antlers. A heavy gold collar hung around his neck that winked in the light. The creature came to a stop in front of them, his velvety nose twitching in the scentless air.

The stag looked at Maddy and lowered his head until she was gazing directly into his wet brown eyes. She gulped as she realized that she couldn’t see pupils—just twin images of a full moon in a dark sky filled with scudding clouds.

Ask me for help
, said a voice in her head. She stared at the stag in shock.

“Did anyone else hear that?” said Danny, his voice shaking.

Ask me for help.

“Maddy, he’s talking to
you
. Say something,” hissed Roisin.

“Like what?”

“Asking where we are would be a blinding start,” said Danny.

“Um, where are we?” she asked the stag, who still hadn’t blinked.

You are on the border of what you know and what you believe.

“Are we in the faerie mound?”

Yes.

“This doesn’t look like Tír na nÓg,” said Roisin. “None of the books and faerie tales I read ever mentioned a desert.”

What you seek is within your reach. But until you believe in it, you cannot pass the border.

“Can we go back?” asked Danny.

Only if you know the way.

Maddy looked around them at the expanse of desert that stretched as far as the eye could see. There was nothing to break the monotony—no road, no landmark, not even a lump of sand-blasted, wind-scoured rock.

“Do you know the way?” asked Maddy.

The stag said nothing.

“Are you our guide?” asked Roisin.

The stag lifted his head up high and looked down his nose at them with his front feet neatly placed together.

What you already know is your guide and your map.

Maddy walked up to the stag, who inclined his head regally. “So if we want to go forward into Tír na nÓg, we have to believe that we will walk into it, right?”

Yes.

“So all we have to do is wish it really hard and it will appear?”

You have to see it and believe it enough to step into it.

“Will this map also help us get home?”

The stag stood still as a statue as the soft breeze played around his hoofs.

“This is madness,” said Danny to the stag. “No offense, but we can’t just click our heels and say, ‘There’s no place like home.’”

“Well, we can’t phone someone to come and pick us up either,” said Maddy.

“How do you know?” said Danny, his face lighting up with hope. He pulled his mobile from the back pocket of his jeans and checked the screen. His face fell. “No signal.”

“Shocking,” said Maddy.

“Can we trust you?” asked Roisin in a small voice. The stag swung his antlers to look at her. “I don’t mean to insult you, but I have no idea if you are a friend or an enemy, so how can I simply go where you tell me to go? How do I know I can get home by the path you want me to take?”

I did not think that going home was your purpose. Going home seems like a very poor sort of quest.

“Home is always the goal in stories, isn’t it?” asked Maddy. “Heroes are always trying to go home or save home, so it seems good enough to me. If I do what you say, can I go home?”

The stag cocked his head at Maddy.
How do I feel to you? Fair or foul?

Maddy stared up into the brown eyes. “You feel fair,” she whispered.

“What are you saying, Maddy?” asked Roisin.

“I think he’s asking us to trust our instincts,” she replied.

They all stood for a moment and looked at the stag, their breathing harsh and ragged in the silence. Power radiated from him like an electrical field, and Maddy found herself struggling against the temptation to kneel.

“Will you come with us?” she asked.

This is a task I cannot help you with.

“Why not?”

Tonight, time is in chaos. My power ebbs.
The stag shook his head, his twin moons blotted by cloud.
But I offer you the way into the kingdom of the Tuatha de Dannan.

“If you are not strong enough, what chance do we have?” asked Maddy.

You are stronger than you think. There is magic in the old ways, in the human stories. What you know will bring you great power.

“I have no idea what that means,” said Maddy.

The moons came out from behind their clouds, and the stag’s eyes shone silver.
You will.

Maddy looked at Roisin and Danny. They both shrugged.

“When I used to think about Tír na nÓg,” she said softly, “I imagined it as a place that shimmered, where you were never hungry or cold, and flowers bloomed everywhere, and faeries flew about like birds. Is that what you mean?”

“I always thought it would be a place of everlasting twilight,” said Roisin, a blush stealing over her cheeks. “White flowers scattered through the grass and tall trees. Faerie halls covered in jewels, filled with music and singing.”

See it.

Maddy closed her eyes and reached back into her mind for memories that had faded over time, of a world she had once tumbled into with every book, every Christmas special on TV.

“I think of dryads whose faces appear in the bark of trees and mermaids washing their hair in waterfalls,” said Roisin. “Winged horses with golden bridles and faeries singing in the forest.”

“Dragons and animals that talk,” said Danny, blushing as Roisin stared at him.

Maddy grinned as the breeze whipped itself up into a stiff wind, and in the distance the sand began to rise into the air. “Unicorns and maidens, faeries curled up in flowers, stars that sing, magic castles in the clouds . . .”

“It’s working!” yelled Roisin, as the wind rose to a howl, tearing at their clothes, and the stag threw back his head to bugle at the sky.

“Brownies and bogels, pixies and sprites, hollows hills bathed in candlelight!” yelled Maddy, excitement rising in all of them as the curtain of sand swept over them and the white stag disappeared from their sight.

Chapter Ten

Maddy had her eyes squeezed shut, and the
first thing she felt was cold air billowing around her, wrapping her in its sharp embrace. After the tasteless air of the nowhere place, the scent of wet pine and crushed grass tickled her nostrils. Roisin gasped, sending butterflies whirling through Maddy’s stomach. Then she heard Danny say, “It’s beautiful!” and she opened her eyes.

It was.

They were standing on a grassy hilltop looking down on to dense forest. The sun hovered on the edge of the horizon, its dying rays sending prisms of light slicing through the crystal cold air to bathe them in shimmering colors. The forest canopy was covered in snow and in the distance before them, a white tower twisted into the
sky. Blue mountains smudged the horizon beyond the tower, while a vast river wound away from it, cutting through the forest as it rushed toward the far horizon on their left. Gradually the ranks of trees thinned out, and a dry and barren land clung to the river banks. Lights twinkled among the trees, and they could hear singing, as pure and sweet as the highest notes of a violin, held in an aching treble. Flocks of birds wheeled above the treetops looking to roost, their iridescent feathers flashing jewel bright in the sunset. A breeze lifted from the treetops and danced toward them, wrapping their faces in a wild perfume. Maddy closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She could smell crushed flowers, leaf mold, pine needles and bark, feather and fur. It was as if the forest had breathed out. She opened her eyes and looked down and for a second saw her feet clad not in sneakers but tiny cloven hoofs. She blinked and the image was gone.

Roisin started to laugh and held an arm up to the dancing light. The fractured rays slid down her skin in blue-hued bracelets. “We did it!” she cried. “We are actually in Tír na nÓg!” George wriggled down from her arms and ran about in circles, barking.

Danny sat down hard on the snow-dappled grass. “Is this happening?” he said, his expression stunned as he looked around.

“I don’t know,” said Maddy, her eyes wide. “It’s unbelievable.”

“Oh, can’t you feel it?” said Roisin gleefully. She giggled and spun on her heels, arms flung out.

“Feel what?” asked Maddy.

“The magic in the air. It’s like licking a battery,” said Roisin. “The whole place
hums
with it. I feel so good, so good, so
goooood
!”

As Roisin twirled and sang, her joy radiated out from her and lapped against Maddy like a physical wave. She began to giggle, and as she looked at Danny, his normally scowling face began to break into a smile. Seconds later they were all laughing on the hillside.

“Hang on,” Roisin said, stopping in her tracks and frowning at something behind them. “Am I really seeing that?”

Maddy twisted her head to look behind her, and with a shock she recognized the faerie mound on the Blarney Castle grounds. It topped the hill, dark and silent in the face of the sunset. Its shadows were unnatural, pooling around its feet and ringing it in darkness, rather than stretching away behind it.

“That’s not the same mound, is it?” asked Danny.

“It can’t be,” said Maddy.

“Maybe it is,” said Roisin. “Maybe it exists in both places at the same time. You know, like parallel universes.”

“Is that possible?” asked Danny.

“At the moment, I’d believe in anything,” said Roisin.

Maddy studied the mound carefully. For a second it blurred. Then it shifted back into focus again with a sharp buzzing noise she could
feel
crawling around. She shuddered. “It certainly looks like the one at the
castle. I think we should head back here as soon as we’ve found Stephen.”

The laughter faded out of their eyes as they looked about them.

“Any ideas about how we do that?” asked Danny.

“Well, that tower is the only sign of civilization we have seen so far,” said Maddy, “so I say we head for that and see if anyone there can help us. He might even be there.”

“You said this faerie stole him,” said Roisin. “What are we going to do if he doesn’t want to give him back?”

Maddy shifted the backpack on her back and heard the pokers clank against the horseshoe. “We’ll have to deal with that when we find him.”

“It doesn’t sound like much of a plan,” said Danny.

“It’s not, but feel free to think of a better one,” said Maddy as she whistled for George. “Right now, I suggest we get going.”

“We don’t know how to get to that tower!” said Danny. Maddy began to walk down the hill, Roisin skipping ahead, while George ran in giddy rings.

“Is it going to come to you sitting on wet grass in the middle of who knows where?” asked Maddy over her shoulder.

Danny shrugged and followed them down the hillside.

They plunged into the dense forest, the evergreen canopy blocking the sky. They were pleased to find
that there was a path, and they followed it. Now and then they heard the sound of sweet singing drifting to them through the air, and they saw lights bobbing among the trees. Sometimes tall, elegant creatures who radiated light passed close by carrying lanterns, the warm yellow glow bathing their lovely faces. Impossibly tall men and women glided over the forest floor, turning to talk to one another, a laugh tinkling through a group of them like a bell. Their richly embroidered clothes rustled and whispered as they swept past, taking no notice of the children.

Maddy wanted to stare at their perfect faces, but for some reason the sight of the faeries made her mind blank with panic. They were beautiful, like paintings come to life, but their eyes and faces were hard and cold. She could see jeweled daggers sparkling at their waists, and something told her there was a good chance she wouldn’t wake up if she ever fell asleep in their company. Roisin and Danny were quiet and white-faced when they saw the faeries, so she knew they felt the same way. Every time a faerie passed by, they crouched in the undergrowth like rabbits, their hearts beating in their throats.

Not all were lovely. As they hid from one shining group, a darker faerie hurried along in the bright ones’ wake. This creature was stooped and wrapped in a murky cloak that covered even its feet. A chill radiated from it rather than a light, and as the creature passed them by, Maddy caught a glimpse of a twisted, cold face.

The farther into the woods, the fewer faeries there were. The forest was dark and thick here, a wilder place. Brightly colored birds swooped and fluttered around them, perching on snow-crusted branches to sing silvery songs that bubbled from their throats. Soon the air was thick with songbirds, and Maddy held her face and hands up as they swept over. The breeze from their wings puffed against Maddy’s skin, bringing the scents of wild flowers and wet grass as they brushed their soft, feathered bodies against her chilled fingertips.

The gloom lightened as hundreds of tiny faeries appeared in a cloud and mingled with the birds, light pulsing from their bodies as their translucent wings beat as fast as a hummingbird’s. These sprites swarmed, sparks streaking in their wake. They raced the songbirds and tickled their bellies, lifted strands of Maddy’s and Roisin’s long hair and tugged, and they pinched and stroked any bare skin they could find. They whirled around Danny, spinning a web of candy-colored sparks. He laughed and held out his hands to the little creatures, tempting them to sit on his palms. The faeries ignored him and whirled faster and faster, sparks fizzing and spraying into the air. The colors shivered across the snow and lit up his face like fireworks.

“This is
wonderful
!” he cried.

One faerie broke away and came to hover in front of Maddy. She stared at her for a moment before a smile split her tiny face. Then she leaned forward and touched the tip of Maddy’s nose.

“Ouch!” Maddy yelled, as pink and blue sparks flew and a jolt of electricity ran through her.

The faerie giggled and circled her finger at Maddy.

“Buzzzzz,” she said.

“Don’t you dare!” said Maddy. She lifted her hands up and clapped them hard. “Or else!”

The faerie gave an indignant squeak, her face clouded with anger. She took off into the trees above, her friends racing to join her. Sparks rained down, and the air filled with the smell of singed hair. Maddy brushed her hands over her head to feel blackened strands break and fall away from her fingers.

“Oh, Maddy, why did you scare them off?” asked Roisin. “They won’t come back now.”

“I didn’t fancy getting barbecued by your little friends, that’s why,” said Maddy.

“Hey, one of them is coming back,” said Danny. “C’mere, girl—I won’t hurt you.”

The same little faerie who had tried to set light to Maddy’s nose fluttered down in front of Danny.

“I’d watch her if I were you . . .” Maddy began, but it was too late. The faerie gripped one of Danny’s fingers. Her body glowed white, and then the light pulsed up Danny’s arm.

“Ow, that really hurts!” he cried. The little faerie simply stuck her tongue out and flew up into the trees.

Maddy laughed. It was good to see Danny on the receiving end for once. She glanced down at the leash wrapped tightly around her fist and looked for George,
whom she had forgotten in all the excitement. She really shouldn’t have let him loose, but she was surprised to see him walking close behind her, his nose almost touching her heel.

She was relieved that the grizzled old terrier had decided to behave himself. She didn’t need him chasing off after animals in here—she had no idea if she would get him back.

A quick movement in the darkness beneath the trees caught her eye. It wasn’t much, a flicker of a lighter shadow, but it was enough. Something else was walking with them. She peered harder into the trees and saw what the birds and faeries had stopped her from seeing before.

Long, dark shapes glided close to the ground, keeping pace with them as they walked along the path. Now and then, huge green eyes gleamed before the animal turned its head away and loped on. She could see them moving on either side of the path, and she realized they were surrounded.

George hadn’t been behaving—he had caught the scent of wolves.

Maddy watched as the little terrier carefully avoided looking to the left or right. He stooped lower and lower until he was practically crawling on his belly. When Maddy picked him up and hugged him close, he tucked his face into her armpit.

She wanted to warn Danny and Roisin, but she was terrified to make a noise or do anything to break the
tension. It was obvious the wolves knew they were there, but Maddy kept her eyes ahead and hoped that if she ignored them, they would leave them alone.

Roisin was still giggling over the faeries while Danny walked ahead of them all in a huff, his pride injured. But after a while the silence pressing in around them became too obvious. Maddy saw Roisin look around, a frown on her face. When she spotted the wolves, she drew in a breath to scream, but Maddy grabbed her arm from behind. Danny looked back at them.

“What’s wrong now?” he said.

Just then a wolf stepped into a patch of light and looked straight at Danny, its tongue lolling from its mouth. Danny looked back at Maddy, his own mouth opening in a panicked O, but she hurried past him, dragging Roisin with her.

“Don’t say anything, don’t look at them, don’t wind them up,” she whispered as she overtook him. “Just keep walking.”

Now Maddy realized how quiet the forest was. There was no trill of songbirds, no clicks of magpies, no harsh cries of crows. The only sound was their breathing and the occasional thump of snow sliding from an overladen branch. The wolves were silent and loped by the path, their huge paws stepping lightly over the carpet of leaf mold and pine needles.

Maddy desperately searched the gloom for help, for someone, for a shack with a door that could be locked, anything. But there was no other sign of life beneath
the dripping trees. Only the dark, shaggy shapes that drifted like smoke, keeping time with their footsteps.

“Why are they not attacking us?” whispered Danny as his eyes darted from side to side.

“I don’t know,” said Maddy. “Maybe they want us to run?”

“Why?”

“They like playing with their food?”

“Are they herding us?” asked Roisin.

“They haven’t made us go anywhere yet. They’re just following,” said Danny.

“It’s Little Red Riding Hood,” said Roisin.

“What are you on about?” said Danny.

“Little Red Riding Hood,” said Roisin. “It’s obvious. The wolf got her because she was a bad girl and left the path. We’re staying on it so they can’t attack us.”

“Rubbish,” said Danny.

“Have you got a better idea about what’s going on?” asked Maddy.

“No, but I mean, they look like normal wolves,” said Danny. “Unless someone read them the book, they don’t know anything about Little Red Riding Hood. Which means, if they are hunting us, staying on the path isn’t going to help. I’m climbing a tree. You should always climb trees if you think a wild animal is going to attack you.”

“No, don’t!” squeaked Roisin. “Step off the path and they’ll get you. You have to stick to the rules. The stag said what we know would guide us.”

“You two can do what you like,” said Danny. “But I’m not sticking around to become a main course.”

Before either Maddy or Roisin could stop him, Danny stepped off the path toward the nearest tree. Instantly a shaggy gray wolf burst from the undergrowth and with a snarl leaped at him. Danny went down in a tangle of limbs.

“Help, help,” he screamed. “Get him off me!” He beat at the wolf’s head as the animal bit into his arm and tried to drag him deeper into the undergrowth.

Roisin stood frozen, but Maddy dropped George on the path and rushed to help Danny. She shrugged the backpack from her shoulders as she ran and unzipped it, pulling out the poker. Running full tilt into the wolf, she smacked it hard across the ribs with the iron rod. The animal yelped and let go of Danny to turn to face her. It growled and bared its huge fangs, eyeing the poker as she held it before her like a sword. Its ears swiveled round as Danny scrambled to his feet and made a dash back to the path. Maddy kept her eyes locked on the wolf’s as she stepped back slowly. The animal began to retreat itself, growls still rumbling in its throat, until the gloaming swallowed it whole.