The Wildwood Arrow (11 page)

“That must be the spell defence,” Claudia said. “It knows we want to break the enchantment.”

The shadows darkened in the corners of the room, underneath the shrubs and leaves, and by the door. They fused together, spreading and swelling like a disease. Then they flowed past Gwen as if she wasn’t there, gathering around Laney and Claudia.

Laney’s skin prickled. “It’s not interested in Gwen. It’s just after us. What do you think happens
if it touches us?”

“I don’t know. We could become caught by the spell, or worse. I don’t want to find out,” Claudia told her.

Laney edged forwards, seeking the place with the narrowest patch of shadows. Then she leapt over the darkness and ran up the corridor, hearing Claudia running behind her. They bolted through the front door and down the path, through gently swaying stems of little white flowers.

Claudia closed the front gate and leaned on it. “So, next time Gwen tells us we shouldn’t mess with something, we don’t mess with it, OK?”

Laney wiped her forehead with her hand. “Now she’s trapped in there with no power to remember and we can’t even ask anyone to help.”

“She’s strong though. She’ll fight it.”

Laney reached over the gate to touch one of the little white flowers.
I can smell the valerian in every room,
Gwen had written. Were these the flowers behind the spell? She certainly hadn’t seen them growing in Gwen’s garden before. Her head whirled as a wave of scent broke over her, forcing her to back away down the lane.

“We need to get back to the forest and we need Fletcher,” said Laney. “But he will have told his parents everything by now and they’re bound to try to stop us going.” She bit her lip. On the corner, her dad and Simon were packing tools into the van. The Thornbeam house stood at the opposite end of the lane. At that moment Fletcher came out of his front door and saw them.

“The Thorns will definitely try to stop us going.” Claudia arched her eyebrows. “They’ll think that it’s their Myrical and nothing to do with anyone else. And as nobody else but us believes in the Shadow, they won’t see the danger in talking about it.”

“Then all we can do is try to get there first,” said Laney. “Fletcher!”

Fletcher came towards them, his shoulders slumped. Before Laney could open her mouth, he started speaking. “So I thought my parents would be thrilled to hear about the Wildwood Arrow, but guess what? They didn’t believe me – not about what we saw or anything.” He swallowed. “Actually, they laughed.”

Claudia and Laney looked at each other and tried not to look relieved.

Fletcher’s mouth set into a straight line. “And they say I have to keep away from the Avalon project. There’s to be another Thorn tribe meeting about it after Saturn Rising.”

“Stuff that!” said Laney. “We’re going back there today.” She quickly told him the bad news about Gwen, trying to keep her voice steady. “So it’s up to us to find the Arrow as soon as we can and take it to the Mencladden Stone,” she finished. “We can’t rely on her for help. Now we just need to get into the Avalon project.”

She saw his gloomy expression and wanted to shake him. “Come on!” she cried. “This is a Thorn thing! There has to be a way in that only a Thorn would know.”

“As long as we don’t have to turn ourselves into trees,” added Claudia.

Fletcher thought for a moment. “There could be something in one of my dad’s books that’ll help us.” He turned back up the lane. “You can come in – my parents are in the greenhouse at the bottom of the garden and Sara’s out playing.”

Laney had never been inside Fletcher’s house. The walls were made from a grainy wood the colour of dark honey, which made her feel like she was inside a hollow tree. Pots of bright daffodils stood on a table in the middle. Laney had never seen daffodils in October but she knew Thorns could make flowers grow whenever they liked.

Her gaze swept round the room and she jumped, seeing a movement in the corner. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Claudia followed her gaze.

“Something small and dark on the floor.”

“Nope, nothing there,” said Claudia, “and no one has sharper eyes than a Greytail.”

Laney tried to relax. She’d thought for a zillionth of a second that she’d seen one of those black roots from the forest. After everything that had happened, she’d better not start imagining things.

Fletcher went to the bookcase and drew out a battered brown book with
Gardener’s Almanac
on the front.

“We’re not planting beans,” said Claudia.

“The title’s just a disguise. It’s actually full of Thorn stuff.” Fletcher flicked the pages, passing over tables full of numbers and words. “We use these things: times of sunset and moonrise, phases of the moon and positions of constellations.”

“Seriously? You actually like that kind of thing?” Claudia raised one eyebrow. “I’m glad I’m not a Thorn.”

“So are we,” said Fletcher.

Laney looked over his shoulder.
“Offerings for the faerie ring at different phases of the moon,”
she read. “What are offerings?”

“They’re like gifts,” said Fletcher.

Claudia’s eyebrow looked like it was stuck halfway up her forehead. “Do you actually do that? Leave stuff next to the rings? I’ve never
noticed anything before.”

“You haven’t been looking very hard then,” said Fletcher shortly. “We only use the rings in the countryside, otherwise humans might notice.”

“I don’t think I could ever worship the rings. They’re too scary.” Laney couldn’t stop looking at the corner.

Fletcher’s mouth twisted. “You wouldn’t understand. You were brought up by a human stepmum and you don’t know half the things—”

“Fletcher? Are you there?” Mr Thornbeam called from the back garden.

Fletcher closed the book and ran out of the front door. Claudia and Laney followed him and they sprinted down the lane into the yard behind The Old Eagle pub. They found a fence to sit on at the back, screened by a willow tree’s drooping branches.

Fletcher looked through the book for ages. “Mistletoe,” he said at last, closing the pages.

“What, that stuff people kiss under at Christmas?” said Laney, disgusted.

Fletcher sighed. “I don’t know where the kissing thing comes from, but mistletoe is the plant of transitions – it helps you pass from one place to the next. That’s what the book says and that must be why it’s hung over doorways at Christmas. The humans pick up our ways sometimes but then they get the meaning wrong.” He balanced the book on a
fence post. “It could be that the invisible wall is like a doorway into Avalon. If I’m right, the mistletoe will help us go through.”

“Are you sure it will work?” asked Laney.

“Not totally sure – but it’s the only thing in here that comes close to what we need. And, Laney…” He frowned. “We should wait till tomorrow night. Tomorrow’s Saturday and the moment the sun sets, Saturn will rise. Our power will be stronger after that.”

“We can’t wait! Gwen’s letter said don’t hesitate if you find a Myrical,” said Laney. “How is some planet going to boost my power anyway?”

“We Greytails don’t believe in lots of superstitions,” said Claudia, “but Saturn Rising really works. The rings around the planet are connected to the faerie rings somehow, and that makes more power flow in from the Otherworld. Anyway, we have to go – our tribes will notice if we’re not there and start to ask all sorts of awkward questions.”

“To be honest, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get us through that barrier without the extra power,” said Fletcher.

Laney clasped her hands together, feeling them grow hot. Claudia and Fletcher hardly ever agreed, so it was difficult to ignore them when they did.

“You should come too,” added Claudia. “A new
faerie ring has formed just off Skellmore Edge and we’re gathering there to catch the upwelling.”

“It’ll be hard for her to come if her tribe doesn’t want her,” said Fletcher.

“I don’t think she should miss it,” said Claudia.

“Hey, you can talk to me – I’m right here!” Laney jumped down from the fence, her face red. “Your Saturn party sounds very nice, but what if your dad tells people what you said to him about the Arrow? If the Shadow finds out he’ll go straight to the forest and get there before we do.”

A dark expression spread across Fletcher’s face. “My dad didn’t believe me. He called me an idiot and said that’s what comes of running around with other tribes. So I don’t think that he’s going to tell a whole load of people what I said.”

“But he’s always been so nice,” said Laney. “I can’t believe he’d say something like that.”

“Believe it,” said Fletcher. “Things change. Maybe people change too.”

Laney went home with a hollow feeling in her stomach. She was worried that they weren’t going straight back to Hobbin Forest to find the Arrow, but something else bothered her too. She’d never seen things get to Fletcher this way. She pictured his face twisting as he told her she wouldn’t understand about worshipping the faerie rings, having had a
human stepmum. It was true she hadn’t grown up learning the customs of the tribes, but he’d never said it so bluntly before.

After dinner she went to the garage to find her dad. He glanced at her briefly as he packed spanners and screwdrivers into his toolbox. “Everything all right, Laney?”

Laney searched for an easy way into what she wanted to ask but couldn’t think of one. “You know the tribes? Do you think people ever want to leave their tribe and be … something else?” An image of the Shadow rose in her mind.

Mr Rivers straightened up, a pair of pliers in his hand. “Why? What have they done? Has Frogley been bothering you since he sent you away from training?”

“No, nothing’s happened. I just … wondered if everyone’s really as close to their own tribe as they’re acting. Maybe some of them really want other things – like getting more power for themselves.”

“Most of them would never dare to go against their tribe,” he told her. “It’s always been that way. You’ve seen what it’s like for me – they won’t even speak to me most of the time.”

Laney swallowed. He hadn’t really understood what she was asking. The Shadow’s image faded. “Dad? Have you heard of Saturn Rising?” She curled her hair behind her ear.

“Yes, it’s a big occasion. All the tribes go along to some out-of-the-way place to watch Saturn rise, then after that different tribes celebrate in their own way. I think the Mists do twilight lake flying, but I’ve never taken part.” He wiped his forehead on his sleeve. “They don’t make so much fuss of it up north where I come from.”

“Why not? I thought it gave us some kind of power boost?”

“It does increase the strength of your magic. Though that’s not always a good thing, especially around here.” He put the pliers into the toolbox and wiped his hands on his jeans.

“So in Longstone, where you used to live, they didn’t celebrate the same stuff?” she asked casually. Her dad never talked very much about where he grew up although she knew it was by the sea.

Mr Rivers knelt down by the toolbox, rearranging some of the things inside. “Sometimes there were celebrations but no Thorns live up there and it’s the Thorn tribe that have always loved marking events the most. I guess it’s in their nature.”

“Oh.” She’d never thought about different tribes living in different parts of the country, but it made sense. There were no Kestrels or Blazes in Skellmore. “So which tribes live in Longstone then? Everyone except the Thorns?”

“Only Mists and Kestrels. It’s a very remote place
– just rocks and the sea, really.” His eyes drifted, as if he were picturing it.

Laney tried to imagine him when he was younger but couldn’t. “So did you meet Mum there?”

“No, I didn’t.” Mr Rivers closed the toolbox lid firmly. “I’d better help Kim with the washing up or she’ll be pretty fed up with me.” He turned round in the doorway and looked at Laney seriously. “Don’t go to the Saturn Rising ceremony, love. The tribes round here have a way of turning everything into a disaster. Trust me.”

Laney stared at the toolbox after he’d gone. Why hadn’t she told her dad about the Shadow? It was true that Gwen had made them promise to keep the Myrical hunt a secret, for everyone’s safety. But she knew that wasn’t the only reason. There was something that always stopped her – she just didn’t know what it was.

She sighed. No matter what he said, there was no way she was missing Saturn Rising.

The red burn mark on the end of her finger prickled and she rubbed it. She couldn’t help thinking that if her mum was alive they’d be a normal faerie family and she’d know about every custom and celebration the way her friends did. The thought dropped inside her like a stone sinking in water. She slammed the garage door shut and made her way back to the house in the dark.

Laney woke up thinking of the invisible wall on the edge of Stingwood’s Avalon project. The barrier had been so strong. Would something as small as mistletoe break it? She threw on jeans and a T-shirt, wishing she didn’t have to wait till the evening to find out.

It was Saturday and she walked down to the minimart on the pretext of buying chocolate but went instead into the yard to look over the fence at Hobbin Forest. The wood seemed quiet, with no sign of autumn-coloured leaves despite the chill in the air. Dread and excitement mixed inside her like a potion. The Wildwood Arrow was in there somewhere – just waiting to be found.

Mr Frogley’s bony figure appeared at the edge of the trees and Laney drew back. Where had he come from? Had he walked along the footpath from Faymere Lake or come from inside the forest? She heard a noise behind her and saw Fletcher’s dad coming out of the minimart with a newspaper under his arm. Sinking further back under the branches she realised that she mustn’t be seen here. If the Shadow saw her watching the forest he would
know
. She waited till both men were out of sight before returning home. Her skin prickled at the thought of her carelessness ruining everything.

As the day went on, a fine mist drifted in from nowhere, turning everything hazy. Watching
through the front window, Laney saw that the mist was thickening moment by moment. By teatime she could only just see the wall at the end of the front garden. The lane beyond was a blur. A dark shape moving alongside the wall made her shiver. Then she wondered if it was someone walking over to Skellmore Edge – the mist was a perfect cover for letting the tribes leave the village unseen.

She leaned one hand on the mantelpiece and a bubbling sound interrupted her thoughts. The roses in a vase next to her hand were wilting while the water they stood in boiled steadily. Quickly she looked around, glad that she was alone. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her mind, and the bubbling gradually disappeared. She had to stop doing things like that. One day she would give herself away.

She slipped out of the house half an hour before sunset and walked up Beacon Way. Other figures loomed out of the mist, heading in the same direction, but no one spoke. The mist thinned right after the last house and finally she could see the dark cliffs of Skellmore Edge – a rocky plateau that stretched for several miles. As she climbed the steep slope, a faint wordless singing began somewhere to the left, and her skin prickled. The newly formed faerie ring must be over there. She suddenly wondered exactly how this power surge
from the ring was going to work.

Reaching the top, she remembered to avoid the giant footprints carved into the rock. There was a legend that said they were the footprints of a Shadow faerie who fought a battle here decades ago.

The flat hilltop was covered with faeries split into their tribe groups and some of them were already in faerie form. Many of the Greytails were prowling up and down. Tom Lionhart earned stern words from the Thorn tribe when he strayed too close to them. Claudia’s mum, Mrs Lionhart, stood at the centre of the Greytails, where she radiated a fierce authority despite being so small. Claudia was hovering just above the ground, her amber wings moving like a dragonfly’s. The Thorns stood a short distance from the other tribes, none of them moving or speaking. Laney glanced at Mr Thornbeam and thought his face looked as if it was carved from stone.

The Mists were there too, standing close together as they murmured and cast looks at the other tribes. Now and then one would rise into the air in one smooth movement and then gently float back to the ground. Only Joe Fenworth smiled when he saw Laney; the others glared at her and resumed their furious whispering. Laney kept her head turned away. They needn’t think she wanted to be with them – that was the last thing she wanted. She
made for the far side of the plateau, hoping to find a place where she could stand alone and unseen. But Frogley left the Mist group and blocked her path. He frowned at her over the top of his half-moon spectacles. “This is a tribe event.” He kept his voice low but his bony fingers were clenched. “It’s only meant for those
belonging to a tribe.”

“I’m just…” Laney pointed to an empty part of the hilltop. She wanted to explain that she wasn’t trying to stand with the other Mists but the words stuck in her throat. She tried to skirt round the Elder but Frogley grabbed her wrist. Instantly her hands grew hot. “You can’t stop me being here,” she hissed.

Frogley’s eyes bulged but he let go of her arm.

“I see the Mist tribe are continuing their tradition for tribal unity,” said Mrs Lionhart sharply. “Perhaps we could watch Saturn Rising in peace? There’s only a few minutes to go now.” She raised her arm towards the western horizon.

“Mind your own business!” muttered Frogley, but he let Laney pass. Most of the Mists ignored her, but Laney caught sight of Simon’s shocked face. Obviously her dad hadn’t told his workmate how bad things had got at her last training session.

She stumbled, knocking into someone. “Sorry,” she mumbled, before realising she’d walked into Jessie. The girls’ eyes met before Jessie turned away.
Laney carried on, confused. She’d expected to see something else – triumph maybe – but Jessie just looked worried. She glanced back. Jessie’s mum was holding on to her daughter with a scrawny arm, her bedraggled hair hanging over her thin shoulders.

“Stand up, Mum,” whispered Jessie. “Just for a few minutes.” Her mum tried to straighten before slumping against her daughter again.

Laney found an empty place on the hilltop behind the motionless Thorns. The countryside below glowed orange in the light of the setting sun. Little fields spread out in a rectangular pattern, split up by the ribbon-like roads. A patch of mist hung over Skellmore, and smaller patches further afield marked where Gillforth and Pyton lay.

Laney scanned the tribes and swallowed, wrapping her arms round herself to keep off the cold evening air. She felt a movement at her elbow and Fletcher was there.

“Won’t your tribe mind you standing with me?” whispered Laney.

Fletcher shrugged. “Not sure I care right now.”

Laney flicked a look at where the Thorns were standing as still as statues. Two figures were missing. “Gwen and Stingwood aren’t here.”

“Stingwood told the tribe that he would stay near a faerie ring in Hobbin Forest. He said he didn’t have the time to come up here,” said Fletcher in a
low voice. “Gwen must be in her house.”

Laney thought of Gwen all alone, fighting the memory spell, and stifled a shiver.

“As soon as this is over, we must go straight to the forest to get the you-know-what,” muttered Fletcher.

Laney nodded.

The lowest edge of the sun touched the horizon. The tribes fell silent and Laney found that she was holding her breath. Then voices came from below and two strangers climbed up on to the Edge. The man and woman moved with the unmistakable air of Mists, and their short fair hair and identical features made them look like brother and sister. Frogley started forwards and clasped hands with both the visitors. “We didn’t know you were coming! Is anything wrong? I mean, it’s a great honour to have you here—”

“Our predictions told us that your region will have a particularly strong yield from the rings,” said the woman. “We have come to enjoy the advantage of your good fortune. Is this the closest one?” She pointed down the slope.

“Yes, just over here.” Frogley led her past the Thorns. “This ring formed very recently and we hope the updraught will allow us all to benefit from a strong boost of magic.” He frowned at the silent Thorns, as if they were in the way.

Laney looked over the cliff edge. She could hear the faint singing of the faerie ring again. This time there were words inside the song, words that told that a great wonder was approaching. Laney hunched her shoulders. She didn’t know if she could trust a faerie ring completely. She had once crept close to a different ring and it had lured her inwards, promising her a better life beyond.

“Quiet, everyone, please!” called Mrs Lionhart.

“I’m afraid the Greytails here are incredibly bossy,” Frogley complained loudly to the Mist visitors. “They find it quite impossible to get along with other tribes.”

“We are fortunate not to have any in Longstone,” replied the Mist woman.

Tom Lionhart lunged at Frogley but the other Greytails stopped him. There was a deep rumbling from the Thorns and a hush dropped over the hilltop as everyone focused on the sunset. Laney found the sun too bright to gaze at so she just glanced at it every few seconds. It dropped to halfway, making a fiery semicircle on the western horizon. The singing from the faerie ring grew shriller and Laney thought she could hear someone calling her name.

Around her, those Mists and Greytails still in human form changed to faerie. She closed her eyes for a moment and switched form too. Behind the setting sun rose a pale dot that was hardly visible
at first. The sun dipped further until it was just a blazing line of gold. Laney strained her eyes. Was that Saturn behind it? She’d only seen the planet on a poster at school and she knew it would look tiny as it was such a vast distance away. Any humans scanning the horizon might only see it through a telescope but faerie eyes were stronger.

The sun plunged below the skyline and the dot came into focus – a pale-yellow globe circled by its rings of dust and ice. The song from the faerie ring grew more intense, spinning across the hilltop like a whirlpool of noise. Saturn climbed steadily into the sky and then Laney felt it – a rush of power flowing upwards from the ring. It filled her eyes and throat, and made her wings pulse faster.

The power grew in waves and Laney saw that the wings of the nearest Mists were moving faster too. Fletcher, standing beside her, was still in human form. None of the Thorns had switched to faerie form, remaining stiffly in their human bodies. Currents of air swirled around the hilltop and this seemed to increase the tumbling motion of the ring song.

Little by little, the rush of power subsided and Saturn carried on rising. Many of the younger faeries whizzed through the air, pleased with their boost of power. The Greytails chatted and laughed with each other, and began testing out the new
strength of their power by summoning creatures. Soon flocks of crows circled the hilltop and foxes gambolled in the field below.

Mr Lionhart held out his arm for a barn owl to perch on.

“Let’s leave them to their zoo,” Frogley said sneeringly to the other Mists. “We have better things to spend our time on.”

With a great flourish, the Mist tribe rose into the air together. They were probably off to do some lake flying, Laney thought bitterly.

“What about her? Isn’t she coming?” The
fair-haired
Mist woman pointed at Laney. “She seems to be a Mist.”

“No, she’s not a tribe member.” Frogley muttered something else and Laney caught the words “bad egg”. Frogley tried to fly on, but the Mist woman swept down to Laney.

“Rivers,” she said.

“Sorry?” Laney said, surprised.

“You look like a man I used to know, Robert Rivers – are you related?” she said. “You must be.”

“He’s my dad,” said Laney.

“Is he here? And your mother too?” The woman’s eyes swept over the Mists. “I don’t think he married a Longstone girl. What’s your mother’s name?”

With the Mist woman’s eyes on her, Laney felt she had to answer. “She was Cordelia Brightsea.”

“Brightsea? I’ve never heard of that family. Did she come from somewhere near Longstone?”

Laney flushed, not wanting to admit that she didn’t know.

“We should go right away,” Frogley murmured to the woman. “We want to make the best of the evening.”

With an impatient shrug, the woman flew off with Frogley and the other Mists. Cathy and Leah swooped away without even looking at Laney. Jessie managed to help her mum into the air and they flew off after the others.

The Greytails returned to human form and prowled back down the hillside. Tom rushed ahead as if he was scouting the landscape and looking for prey.

“Can you believe that Mist woman?” hissed Laney to Fletcher. “You don’t just come up to someone and demand to know about their family. Fletch?” He was standing stiffly, his arms by his side. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He moved his lips woodenly.

Laney put a hand on his arm. “Hey! Feel those muscles. Have you been working out?” she joked, but he didn’t reply. She noticed that none of the other Thorns were moving either.

“What’s up with him?” Claudia sprang to Fletcher’s side, brimming with energy. She knocked
on his forehead. “Come on – don’t be an old stick in the mud!”

“Get off me!” said Fletcher stiffly. Then he seemed to wake up a little. “We need to get moving.”

Claudia rolled her eyes extravagantly. “Yeah! Sorry if we’re slowing you down.”

With an effort, Fletcher changed to faerie form. “Straight to the forest then.”

Laney took off behind the other two, glancing back at the Edge where the Thorns had begun moving rigidly towards the path that led back to Skellmore. How could they look so stiff and strange after all that energy had poured into them from the faerie ring? It looked as if Saturn Rising hadn’t given them any power at all.