A Cage of Roots (6 page)

‘Good idea,’ he said, defying himself. ‘There’s the track along the Famine Wall – I’ll take that one.’ This, he told himself, was one of his stupider suggestions:
take the path most likely to be haunted, Sean, like an eejit
.

Benvy looked at him sympathetically. She knew this sort of thing would make him nervous. But aloud she agreed, ‘Fair enough. I’ll go back to the big boulder and follow the badger track behind it – the one that leads to the small car park. Finny?’

‘Ok, I know a place further down this way. We can meet in that car park when we’ve covered the trails, hopefully with Ayla in tow. I may kill her if I find her.
Text if either of you do first.’

He turned and set off along the main path. Benvy and Sean glanced at each other and parted, Benvy back the way they came and Sean directly into the mossy underwood beside them.

Finny found the entrance he was looking for without even looking up. After walking along the main path to the top of a hill, and left through a tight corridor of laurels, he had arrived at a dark, bath-sized dip in the earth. On the far side of it a natural arch grew: pipes of wood thrust in a bunch up from the ground and arched back down to a crack in a green boulder.

This was a place that he and Ayla often came to together, and never told anyone about. It wasn’t out of any malice that they kept it a secret – they didn’t have many of those from the other two. It was just an unsaid agreement: this was for them, and no one else. They came for all sorts of reasons: sometimes to talk, other times to say nothing and sit in the green, cool light, listening to the whisper of moving leaves and each other’s breath.

Finny always wanted to meet here when he was down or angry (which was often), fuming at some episode with The Streak or his parents. He would arrive swinging kicks
at the saplings and shouting curses, spitting at the injustice of it all. Ayla would listen, offering bits of sympathy here and there, until eventually the fresh smell of the woods and the medicine of a good friend calmed him down. Then they would crack a joke, the tension would fade and they’d just sit and bask in pointless conversation. This little hideaway had been his best therapy by far.

Jumping the dip, Finny heard a shuffle and his stomach leapt with relief. He grinned, ducking under the arch and stepping into the hollow.

‘I knew I’d find you here, you big eejit!’ he laughed, ‘You scared the feck out of all of us! I could kill you, seriously!’

He stood in the centre, still smiling, but his smirk faded when she didn’t come out from her hiding place straight away.

‘Ayla, stop messing, will you! We were all worried out of our minds, so this isn’t funny.’

There was still no response. Now he was getting cross. She was being so selfish! Finny only managed to shout her name once more before a large hand covered his mouth and stifled his voice, and he was lifted off his feet.

The Famine Wall crept alongside the warped track, dipping and rising and wrestling with thick ivy. It was made
of huge stones, wedged and stacked until it was a metre thick in places, the boulders shoed in clover. The light was poor now and it would be completely dark before long. Further down the track, Sean could no longer see the stones, just the outline in black. He was cold, and being no fan of the dark, especially deep in a forest at its most haunted point, he was really starting to feel peeved with Ayla and the whole situation. All he had wanted to do was read his book, go home, have a nice tea, and play Xbox until his eyes hurt. Now his friend was lost and he was alone on a grim trail with the shapes of witches and famine ghosts crouching in the shadows.

When a big stone suddenly slipped from the top of the wall, Sean’s heart slammed hard against his chest and jolted him sideways. He tripped over a root and fell head first into a bushel of wet nettles just as a large silhouette emerged over the crest of the wall, and hovered over him.

It was a terrible phantom with a wild, shaggy mane that loomed just metres from him now and came slowly closer. Sean forgot the pain of the nettles, swallowed to keep his heart from crawling up his neck and began to whimper, shuffling backwards as quickly as he could. But the phantom moved quickly and reached out, pulling him up by the lapels. It shouted ‘BOO!’, and a grinning face emerged from the dimness.

When he could finally make sense of what had happened,
Sean knocked the grasping hands away and pushed Benvy back as hard as he could. She only retreated a couple of steps, still laughing.

‘Benvy, for Jesus’s
sake
! That’s
not funny
!’ he shouted, sniffing up loose snot and fixing his glasses. The nettle stings began to bite now, and there were lots of them on his hands and lower back.

‘Oh man, that was
seriously
funny!’ Benvy giggled. ‘Your face when you went over! Priceless!’

‘You’re meant to be looking for Ayla, or have you forgotten? Would you rather give me a heart attack? That was so not cool.’ Sean searched at his feet for a dock leaf and broke off a large one, crushing it against the white welts on his hand.

‘Yeah, well, I knew you’d be freaked out on your own out here, so I thought I’d keep you company. Don’t worry about thanking me! I should have left you to it.’ Benvy was frowning now, secretly realising that maybe she had gone a bit too far, again.

Sean was rubbing a fresh dock leaf on his back when he noticed his tormentor’s expression change. She had been scowling at him, but now her mouth dropped as she looked past him. She frowned and curled her lip, squinting into the gloom.

‘Yeah, nice try, Benv’. You can’t get me twice. You think I’m that stupid?’ he said, but he turned to look just in case.
His eyes met a huge midriff, and travelled up its towering owner to a briar of red beard and untamed hair. Green eyes peered down at him.

‘You need to come with me,’ Fergus said, and turned back into the thicket, pushing trees aside like they were made of rubber.

Chapter 5

A Spiralling Path

T
he three friends were brought to a wide glade, walled by lanky firs but clear of any trees in the centre of the circle. The grass was tall and tangled, colourless in the moonlight. The last bit of day had faded an hour ago, and the clouds had melted away, clearing the sky for a bright, fat moon. A few stars shimmered in the night around it. It was cold, and the wind still pushed against the surrounding forest, making a noise like effervescence. Benvy, Finny and Sean stood with the uncles at the heart of the dell.

Benvy and Sean had been brought there in silence, with no talk from Fergus. They had walked for an age, directly through the trees, leaving the public area of the woodland far behind them. They had crossed over undulating lichen and moss, tripping over rocks and roots, squeezing through dense branches and scrambling up loose, mucky
banks, practically blind in the gloom. It had felt like they were going in great circles, always turning left and never right. They had tripped through the deepening woods for two hours before slipping down one last wet bank, trudging through a copse of red-barked evergreens to their destination in the clearing.

When they arrived, Finny was already there, dwarfed on either side by Lann and Taig. He looked just as angry and cold as they were. When they were all together, Benvy and Sean glanced nervously at their friend, searching for an answer in his face. His eyes were defiant and cross.

‘Well, we’re all here then. Ok, enough of the silent treatment! This is freaking us all out and it’s cold and I’m hungry and, to be honest, I’m pretty cheesed off, because this doesn’t feel like looking for Ayla to me! So, whatever you’re going to do to us, just do it! We don’t know where she is, so torturing us isn’t going to get you anywhere!’

Benvy and Sean were startled by Finny’s challenge, but impressed. Their chins went up.

‘Yeah. Eh. Enough of this sh … shit!’ Sean stuttered.

Benvy gawked in surprise, forgetting what she had been about to say.

The three giant men remained still for another tortuous minute. Lann was the first to break the silence. ‘Fergus, fetch a stump. You know the type. Taig, clear the bracken
from the stones, and show the lads where they are, so they can help.’

Fergus stomped off to the treeline and disappeared through the dark veil. Taig took off in the opposite direction, calling over his shoulder:

‘Come on then. Let’s do this quickly.’

When they got to the edge of the circle, there was a mound in the earth, thickly coated in weeds and brambles.

‘What are we doing here, Taig?’ Finny asked.

‘You’ll know shortly, Oscar. Better ready yourself for it. In the meantime, see along the edge of the clearing there,’ he said, pointing along the line of trees to another mound just like the one they stood beside. Stepping up to the stack at his side, he grabbed a fistful of the bramble and pulled it off with one tug. Underneath was a huge stone, scarred with deep-cut spirals. ‘You’ll find another six of these around the perimeter. Clear the stuff off and then go back to Lann. Quickly, I’d say, is best, because it’s getting dark.’

The friends threw each other a puzzled look, but still set off, each to a pile of briars, and gingerly cleared them off, snapping back their hands when a thorn sank in. Finny and Sean both revealed stones just like the first: branded all over with curved grooves. When Benvy yanked the weeds from her mound, she stumbled back in fright. A leering face, with a long tongue hung down to its chin, stared out,
with two wide holes bored deep into the rock where its eyes should be. She steadied herself and looked around to make sure no one had seen her fright.

‘Look at this ugly guy!’ she announced, with a small shake in her voice, which she couldn’t hide completely. No one took any notice.

When all seven stones were exposed, they returned to Lann in the centre of the clearing. He had been busy himself, clearing an area of grass and lighting a fire. It crackled and threw sparks into the night. He told the friends to sit and be silent before he began to speak.

‘Ayla is gone, but not entirely lost. We know where she is. We need your help to get there.’

‘Well, what are we doing here then?’ Finny asked urgently, rising to his feet. ‘Is she somewhere in the forest?’

Taig sighed and shook his head. Lann’s glare, reflecting the fire in points of red, told the boy that speaking again would not be wise.

So Finny sat, and Lann continued, ‘No she’s not in this forest. She is not in any forest you know, or any place you know. There are things I am going to tell you that you won’t believe. Then there are things I will show you that you won’t believe. But they are real and true. And whether Ayla is found or lost forever depends on this meeting.’

‘Ayla is not like you. She is not like the people in
Kilnabracka or in Limerick or in Ireland. Neither are myself, nor my brothers.’

Taig tossed a broken branch on the fire, throwing up a swarm of sparks, but the friends didn’t take their eyes off Lann. He sucked in a long breath and continued, ‘Taig, how old are you?’

His brother leaned back and looked up into the night, thinking hard. ‘Emm. Let me think. I am four years younger than Fergus, and eight younger than you.’ Lann nodded. ‘And so that would make me … three thousand, two hundred and seventy-three years old. Give or take.’

The friends looked blankly in his direction and then back at Lann, and then at each other. It wasn’t funny. It was just getting more surreal by the minute. Why were the uncles joking around at a time like this? Why were they not panicking and searching under every stone for their niece?

Sean spoke this time. ‘Ok, screw this! I want to go home now. I want to go home, and ask my dad to call the police and report a missing person and do this properly – the way it should have been done at the start. I want you to show us how to get back, and I want to go home because this is getting far too strange. Home, please! Now!’

He stood, glasses misted over in his fluster, and Benvy followed. They beckoned to Finny and turned to leave, just as a huge and sudden crack came from the forest in
front of them, stopping them dead in their tracks. To the left, a treetop wavered like a drunk and fell to earth in a cacophony of snapping and creaking. Then a strange sound – the earth being ripped like paper – and the evergreens parted a minute later. Fergus marched towards them, carrying something huge on his shoulder. He arrived at the fire in ten long strides and dropped his burden down beside it, sending the flames flickering sideways in retreat. It was a massive, freshly hewn tree stump. It sat beside them, hunched on coiled roots still coated with muck. The wound, where the trunk was severed, was clean across, like it had been cut with a cheese wire.

‘Spent ages looking for the right one, and sure, wouldn’t you know, there was one only a few metres in. Typical.’ He sat by Taig with a thud, clapping dust from his enormous hands. ‘What are we talking about?’

‘Just telling them how I’m getting on in years, brother.’ Taig replied.

‘Ah, I see. Mad, eh lads?’ he said, apparently earnest, to the three stunned friends.

Lann was inspecting the stump. ‘Well-found, Fergus. This will work. Oscar, Sean and Benvy. We three brothers are the sons of Cormac, warriors of the land of Fal – what you know now as Ireland. We are not Ayla’s uncles – we are her bodyguards, charged with protecting her from a fate that has hunted her for millennia. Ayla is not who you
think she is either. She is a person of great power, even if she doesn’t know it herself. Ayla, you see, is the only key to a great and terrible evil being unleashed on the world. We waited more than three thousand years for her to arrive.’

Lann paused for a moment, and looked into the flames. ‘The Old Ones – men and women of sorcery – saved us all by banishing her, unborn, before her power could be used by their enemies. She would live, as she had every right to, but in an age when her ties to that great evil were severed with time. We were given the task of waiting. Three thousand years we have lived. It took only thirteen more to fail. For that, our hearts are broken, but we must get her back, and to do that we need you. We cannot go back alone.’

Sean rolled his eyes and let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

Benvy stood again. ‘You are all mental! I want to go now.’

‘This isn’t funny!’ shouted Finny. ‘We need to find her! I’m going.’

The three friends were on their feet and setting off away from the fire when Taig, impossibly quick, was in front of them, with arms out wide to bar the way and shaking his head. Finny bolted to the side, but ran headlong into the wall of Fergus, who looked down at him, eyes glimmering light-green, and ordered through his beard: ‘Back, lad!’

They were set before the tree stump.

‘See the rings, lads?’ Lann said. ‘As the tree grew, it surrounded its old self with the new. You can see the younger tree just by looking to the centre. Such is time. You can go back, you just have to “dig down to it”, so to speak. We know the places to dig.’

Sean snorted. ‘Time-travel? You’re talking about time-travel? Let me tell you: time-travel can’t exist. Believe me, I wish it did! I wish all of this were true, just like in my books. But it’s bull!’

Benvy and Finny stood boldly on either side of him, shoulders thrust back in challenge.

‘Total and utter …’ Benvy began, but she stopped short.

There was a noise, low and faint at first, but gathering weight. It was a hum: deep-seated, ocean-floor-low. It pinched the pits of the friends’ stomachs and tugged at their ears. They looked to Lann and his brothers, and could tell instantly that they were the source of the noise. The giant men were barely visible now in the darkness, their right sides cast in orange from the blaze beside them, which glinted in their eyes like red stars. By now it was hard to tell one from the other; they were just impressions of the men, looming ever larger, black spectres revealed by the firelight.

One of them bent down to the stump and began to run a long finger along the outside ring, tracing it towards
the middle. That’s when the friends felt the hallucinations start.

‘Hey!’ shouted Finny. ‘What’s going on?’

‘What have you given us, you
creeps
?’ Benvy hollered, trying to retreat but finding she couldn’t move.

Where the giant’s finger went, the ring shone yellow and orange, as if it was being set alight in a perfect, thin curve. As the rings lit up, Sean noticed something in the corner of his eye: the stones on the perimeter copied the line, their own spirals glowing, like neon worms crawling across the rock in hot coils. He elbowed his friends to look, but the hum grew louder, pressing at their skulls.

The wind had picked up ferociously, whipping the tall grass around them into a frenzy. The temperature fell and threw icy rain into their faces. They huddled together, trying to lean against the gust, but it pushed them in all directions.

Benvy was the first to fall, only saved from being sucked away by Sean’s grip on her wrist. Then all three slipped, holding tufts to anchor themselves against the tempest, which grew more violent with every second. The deluge swept against them, battering them in heavy drops so that they couldn’t see.

And then, like a switch was flicked, it all stopped. The rain hung in the air, suspended in motion. Everything was frozen to the spot, paused. Even their clothes still looked like they were flapping madly, but without moving. And
then the stone face, leering at the far side of the field, burst into light, beams leaping out from its eye cavities and shooting across to where the uncles stood, searingly bright.

The three giants basked in the white haze, and in the flicker of the dancing fire they seemed to change. They each had long beards now, and their hair was plaited and tucked into mirror-like, copper-coloured helmets. Leather straps were slung across their torsos, each bearing two swords in scabbards at their hips. Their waists were wrapped in heavy olive-green wool and thick leather, daubed in crudely painted spirals. All of their skin was tattooed with the same markings, whirl after whirl hewn into the flesh: scar and paint. They leaned on tall, heavy spears.

And then, in a moment, the light was doused and the hovering raindrops fell to ground in a single splash. Lann was hunched over the stump, and stood: himself again. No trace of crude tattoos remained; they were just as before. Fergus and Taig returned to refuel the bonfire as if nothing had happened. None of the friends could speak; they simply helped each other up and stared ahead, agape.

‘That was the Truelight. You have seen us as we were,’ Lann said. ‘We know where Ayla is. She is a captive, and her prison is in our land, in our time. We can go back, but only so far. You must go back with us. You must be the ones to bring her back home. But before you do that, you will have to prove yourselves capable.’

Benvy was the first to shake herself from the stupor.

‘You’ve given us some bloody drug! When my brother hears about this he’s going to kill you!’

Her voice shook. Finny stirred himself and started to think frantically of a way to escape the giants. He stooped to the fire and grabbed a flaming branch, waving it threateningly at them. The uncles did not flinch. He threw it with all his strength at their heads.