The Hunting Ground (17 page)

Moments later the hunter himself appeared. He was standing next to a huge oak, arms folded, rigged out in full hunting leathers. As soon as he had my attention, he wiped his hands on his jacket and headed for Eve. His body crunched across the snow, but at any one moment only his boot or an arm or his swirling beard was visible. I remember shaking my head as for one dizzying second Cullayn and the trees behind him merged, his body wild and at one with each of the trunks.

Eve finally saw him and screamed, stumbling across the slope. But not towards me. Away from us both. I raced across the mud, tracking west.
I know now that I was cutting off Eve’s retreat. It never occurred to me to head towards Cullayn, to try to stop him. I was helping him shepherd Eve towards the denser trees on the eastern slope.

Cullayn had no weapons in his hands. I know that because he stopped to show me. He shook out his hunter’s cuffs like a magician, proving that he had nothing extra hidden. Then he gave me a triumphant smile, his face shining. It was obvious how happy he was to be on his hunting ground again.
It’s OK, he hasn’t chosen his weapon for Eve yet
, I remember thinking. I couldn’t have been more wrong about that, of course.

At some point I stared down at my hands. Flexed them.
Bared them
. Felt suddenly exhilarated. I was confused by that, but my legs were not confused. They went after Eve.

I caught her. Pulled her down. Before she could scream again, I rammed her mouth against my chest. Turning her face, I held it in a headlock. I’d never used a headlock like that before in my life, but it felt natural. I also remember thinking that it was so disappointingly easy. And I’ve no doubt what I was going to do next. Only the distraction of the ghost children delayed me.

All four of them were fast-floating down the slope.
I could see them clearly. That fact alone should have warned me that I wasn’t myself, but it didn’t. I also didn’t understand why the ghosts were taking such a risk when Cullayn was so close until I realised that they were heading for
me
. I still had Eve’s face twisted in a headlock. I heard her muffled cries, but they only irritated me.

Sam Cosgrove reached me first. Tracing a circle with his fingers around my neck, he
pulled
. Without him actually touching me, it felt like I was inside a choking noose. I fell, groaning, but I still had Eve tight against my chest. Alice flew at me next, but I avoided her, tightening my grip on Eve. Even now I didn’t have any doubts about what I was doing.

From the border of the trees Cullayn cheered, willing me on. He’d caught little Leo, and was effortlessly holding him in one arm while beckoning at Nell, encouraging her to attempt a rescue. Sam flew from me, heading in flashes of blue motion across the slope towards Leo. Cullayn saw him and waited.

Eve was still squealing in my headlock. Cullayn caught my eye – reminding me what I was supposed to do – and it was only Janey who stopped me from killing Eve. I’ve no idea how long she’d been sneaking up behind me, but she didn’t stop to ask
questions. She punched me, hard, in the face. I slumped to the ground, still holding Eve. Before I could get up again Janey knelt astride my chest and shoved a small mirror at me.

In it I saw my transformed face. Saw what I looked like. Felt my chin. The fullness of Cullayn’s beard was in my hands when I shaped it. From across the slope, Cullayn hissed at Janey.

Dropping Eve, I gasped, finally understanding. I collapsed to my knees, felt Cullayn’s hold on me fading.

‘Eve, I’m … I’m not after you,’ I groaned. ‘I’m … please …’

Too late. Eve was already hurrying away. I ran towards her, shouting, telling her I wasn’t going to hurt her, meaning it this time, but Eve just screamed louder.

‘Let
me
go after her,’ Janey shouted.

Nodding, still reeling from what I’d nearly done to Eve, I gazed up at the upper slope.

Cullayn stood there. He was locked in a fight with Sam Cosgrove. It was incredible what Sam was doing. Pinching the air around him, creating tiny spaces in which to move, he burst in flickers of blue around Cullayn’s body, squeezing between gaps his own fingers made. Cullayn lashed out again and again, but Sam was too quick for him and, when Cullayn
reached out with both arms, Leo pulled free with a squeal.

As soon as that happened, all the ghost children fled in different directions.

Cullayn looked disappointed. But only slightly. I could tell he liked the way Sam had extended the hunt. New ideas danced in Cullayn’s eyes, and before I could react he was off again down the slope, heading for Janey this time.

Janey was so focused on Eve that she didn’t see Cullayn coming. At the last second I screamed a warning to her and she fashioned something complex with her hands to hold him back – folding, dispersing space with her fingers. But Cullayn fought through her defence easily, clamped Janey in a bear-hug and with a cry of absolute triumph vaulted with her all the way to the trees.

In that moment, lit by Cullayn’s light, the trunks belonged to him, and they held both Cullayn and Janey aloft, their branches and leaves seething at her throat.

I sprinted towards Janey, but only a ghost could ride the winds fast enough to get there in time, and again Sam never hesitated. He was like a tornado tearing into the heart of the trees. He spread his body, somehow
wrapping
himself around Cullayn’s forearm.

Grunting in surprise, Cullayn dropped Janey. Falling from the trees, she took her chance, rubbing her neck as she sprinted away.

Cullayn only seemed to enjoy the setback. He idly swiped a rough hand towards Sam’s head, but his gaze was already shifting back in a leisurely way to Eve. She was half way down the slope now, and Cullayn set off after her with a roar. His whole body was bent into the slope, like a lion in a sprint for the kill. Stretching his legs impossibly wide, a single bend of his knee took him one-third of the way down the slope, and suddenly his hands were active as well, juggling weapons. I had been Cullayn’s preferred choice for killing Eve, but knives would do, and as he ran Cullayn sharpened three blades across each other, tossed one up, caught it and
threw
.

I don’t think Cullayn’s aim was intended to kill Eve. He wasn’t after anything so simple or quick as that. But it was definitely meant to hurt her. Alice, standing between Cullayn and Eve, made a quick sideways cut with her hand, deflecting it.

Was Cullayn disappointed? No. I could see how little fear he had of Alice’s resistance. Conjuring other weapons as he ran after Eve, he was happy, gloating, his hunter’s feet striding at his own pace.

I staggered across to Janey. She was clutching her throat. She couldn’t breathe properly. ‘I’m OK,’ she rasped. ‘But you have to stop him.’

‘How?’ I said.

‘I don’t know. But Eve’s just a little girl. Cullayn’s not as interested in her as you think. Make
yourself
his target.’

I headed down the snow of the slope. ‘Cullayn! Cullayn!’ I yelled as loudly as I could.

He glanced back, but he was too caught up in his hunt of Eve to bother with me yet.

Eve was nearly off the slope now, on flat ground. She hadn’t stopped screaming for a second, and with huge relief I saw that she must finally have got close enough for Mum and Dad to hear because they both came running out of the house at the same time.

As Mum ran towards Eve, Dad stopped dead in his tracks. He’d spotted Cullayn. And the reason was obvious. Cullayn wasn’t disguising himself any more. He
wanted
to be seen. No more hiding. This hunt of adults was far better than any sport Eve could offer, and he hovered next to Mum and Dad in his full form at last, grinning, letting them both get a good long look at him.

Mum swept Eve up into her arms. Seeing that, a burst of orange light flew off Cullayn’s tongue, and
he soared over the two of them, his arms making chopping, slashing motions.

Mum fell down in a hard shudder, but somehow kept hold of Eve. Picking herself up from the ground, she stood there, fuzzily shaking her head, trying to understand what had happened.

Cullayn wielded his knives, throwing them into the air and catching them impossibly fast, pricking their steel tips alternately against the skin of Mum and Dad’s neck, enjoying their reaction.

Mum drew back. She placed Eve behind her so that she was safe. Then she stared at Cullayn with a ferocity I’d never seen from anyone before. And Cullayn
loved
that moment. He loved it. A mother protecting her child. What higher stakes, what better hunt, than this?

I was still sliding as fast as I could down the slope when with a huge snarl Dad crashed into Cullayn’s back. Cullayn’s weapons spilled on the ground. He seemed winded. But after seeing him fight all this time I knew he wasn’t. Huffing like an old man, wriggling comically, apparently unable to free himself from Dad’s hold, he reached with a deliberate clumsiness into his belt for a short stabbing sword.

Mum snatched it from him. Looked at it. I remember that: the direct way she looked at it. She didn’t tremble. Didn’t need to hear Dad yelling, ‘Use
the thing! Use it!’ Without hesitation she took the sword in both hands and, with Cullayn abruptly raising his chest, offering himself to her, she plunged the point straight past his ribs into his heart.

Except, no. It wasn’t
his
heart she punctured. As the sword came down, Cullayn evaporated in a mist of orange-red, but Mum could no longer hold back. The blade struck, the force of the blow carrying the sword down hard to where now only Dad was. Mum wanted so much to kill Cullayn in that moment, and the blade went straight into the left side of Dad’s chest and buried itself to the hilt.

A cry of pure delight shot from Cullayn’s lips that lit up the air like a firework display. Standing back at the tree-line he watched Mum, in awe at what he’d achieved. Dad, on the other hand, gazed down at the sword in an almost puzzled way, as if he couldn’t quite understand how it had got there.

While Mum bent over Dad in horror, Eve ran. It was not from Cullayn she was running, but me. I’d arrived, but got too close. She still thought I was going to hurt her.

‘It’s OK!’ I shouted. ‘I won’t do anything to you! Eve!’

‘Go after her, Theo!’ Mum gasped, holding onto Dad. ‘Go on!’

Eve was heading towards the house, and I went to cut her off, but that was a mistake. She saw me and ran in the opposite direction – towards the lake.

There was no sign of Cullayn. Janey was high up the slope, holding her neck in pain. Mum had taken the sword out of Dad’s chest and was pressing her hands over the wound, trying to keep him alive.

Eve reached the lake. Without even thinking about what she was doing, she ran straight onto the ice.

No
, I thought. Dad had spelled out to us how freezing cold the water is under the ice crust. In temperatures like this you’ve got a few minutes to get out at most, or you’re dead. Eve wasn’t thinking about that. She skidded on her flat shoes. Only her lightness prevented the ice from shattering.

I frantically called her name. If she had trusted me in that moment I’d have been able to get her back to shore easily. ‘Eve, it’s OK,’ I said. ‘Please listen. I won’t hurt you. Just get off the ice!’

She looked at me heart-brokenly. I could tell she wanted to believe me. I could see how scared she was of the ice breaking, and I realise now that she’d have taken anyone’s help in that moment except mine. ‘Eve!’ I called out. ‘Come here!’ From the shore I held out my hand to reassure her.

Then both of us heard a noise near the house.

It was Mum, crying. I knew it meant that Dad was
dead. Janey reached Mum seconds later, and knelt beside her. Mum didn’t seem to notice Janey was there. She clutched Dad to her, sobbing. But a moment later she glanced up, spotted Eve, left Dad with Janey and rushed towards the lake, waving her arms.

It was exactly what Eve needed. She trusted Mum, and she flung her own arms out wide, skidding towards her across the lake. I made sure I stayed well back. But as she got near the shore, Eve slowed down. I didn’t understand the reason until I saw the thin crack branching outwards along the ice from the front of her toes.

‘
Eve, don’t move
,’ a voice said. Not mine. Not Mum’s. It sounded a bit like Mum’s voice. But it was Cullayn, somewhere out of sight, whispering.

And Eve did stay still. Just for a second. But that second was the only one she had left to get to shore before the ice splintered under her. I remember watching Eve gaze down at her own small feet. And then she screamed and lunged for the shore. For a moment I thought she might make it. But the ice sheet shattered, and she fell like a stone into the water.