Keeper of the Phoenix (9 page)

Ash prised his eyes open and winced with pain. Daylight flooded in. The others were lying beside him. Ash shook them awake.

Taine groaned and sat up, rubbing his head. “What happened?”

“Their magic knocked us out,” Ash said.

“My head hurts,” Rhyll said.

The three friends were jammed into a cage similar to Trip’s, with limited room to move.

Tibor stood watching them, his tail flicking disapprovingly. “Welcome back, humans.”

“Why have you locked us up?” Ash demanded. “And where’s my bird?”

“The bird is safe.” Tibor motioned to the basket hanging high in a tree.

Ash could see Gwaam’s head and shoulders above the rim of the basket. He could also see that he was shivering, probably from hunger.

“He needs to eat,” Ash said.

“We will worry about that in due course.”

“How long were we out?” Rhyll asked.

“Not long,” Ash said. “The sun hasn’t moved much. Maybe a few hours.”

“We need to get out of here, Ash,” Taine said. “Remember, we need to find Zadoc and save the village.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,” Ash said.

“But if we’re locked up here, we may not get to Zadoc in time. What will happen to Papa?” Rhyll said.

Taine squeezed her hand. “We can’t think like that. We
have
to make it. He’s all we’ve got.”

“Ah, the humans are awake.” Garamel walked over, interrupting them. “Perfect.”

Ash watched the unicorns warily. He knew now they couldn’t be trusted.

We have to escape, he thought. But how?

Garamel motioned to Tibor, who touched the cage with his horn. The door swung open. Ash and the others scrambled out.

“Walk. And know you are being watched,” Tibor said.

The friends set off, flanked on all sides by the unicorns.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Rhyll whispered. “All the books, all the knowledge passed down about unicorns … they’re meant to be good and pure. Not nasty like this. Something is wrong here.”

“Halt, humans,” Garamel ordered.

Ash and the twins stopped. Before them stood a hill covered in crimson grass. At the foot of the hill sat row after row of empty wicker baskets.

“Wow!” Taine said. “Red grass.”

Ash shook his head. “This place keeps getting weirder.”

“Up.” Tibor pressed his horn against Ash’s spine. “Fill those baskets with the grass.”

“Couldn’t you just eat it?” Taine said. “It’d save an awful lot of work.”

“Unicorns have been forbidden to eat the sacred Inkle grass from its source. If we do, it will poison us. All you need to know is that you must harvest the grass for us. It must first pass through human hands before we can eat it. We have waited a long time for you to arrive.”

“Why do you need it, anyway?” Taine asked.

Garamel stomped his foot. “The Inkle grass renews our magic and keeps us strong. Now, up.” He pointed his horn at them.

Ash, Taine and Rhyll scrambled up the hill and began plucking the grass. As soon as they did, it immediately grew back.

“We’ll be here forever.” Taine sighed.

“Well, I’m not about to ask the unicorns to let us go,” Ash said. “Who knows how dangerous they are or how long they’ll keep us here picking this grass? If they haven’t eaten for ages, they must be starving. We could be here for days. No, I say we rescue Gwaam as soon as possible then escape.” He ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Here I am picking this stupid grass and they’ve got Gwaam. Goodness knows what they’re going to do to him. I’m not a very good Keeper after all.”

“Quiet!” shouted Tibor.

The friends were forced to pick the Inkle grass until all the baskets were full.

“It’s a good start,” Tibor said. “But we’ll need much, much more.”

Ash threw Taine and Rhyll a look that said, “I told you so.”

“Back to the clearing,” Tibor commanded. Ash, Taine and Rhyll set out carrying the heavy baskets with them.

As they went, Rhyll tripped on a pine tree root and went crashing to the ground. “Ouch!” She clutched her leg, groaning. “I think I’ve twisted my ankle.”

“Rise, human,” Tibor glowered, standing over her.

“Leave her alone,” Ash said, worried that Rhyll was really hurt. “Can’t you see she’s exhausted?”

“Not my concern,” Tibor snorted. Rhyll slowly stood up, picking off the pine needles that had stuck to her clothes. “Good. Now, walk.”

When they reached the clearing, Tibor pushed them towards the cage.

“I have to feed my bird,” Ash said. He glanced at Trip, who whimpered and wagged his tail. “And my dog.”

“The animals were fed while you were gone. Into your cage.”

Ash scrambled in behind the others. He noticed Rhyll looked pleased with herself. “What are you smiling about?” he asked her.

“Can you keep a secret?” she said.

“Of course.” Ash leaned closer as Rhyll whispered in his ear.

After a few minutes, he pressed his face against the bars of the cage. “Excuse me, Garamel. Can I see you, please?”

The unicorns were feasting on their precious Inkle grass, their backs to Ash and the twins.

Garamel strode over. “What is it, human?”

“Are we allowed out of the cage? It’s so cramped in here.” Ash waited for a response, trying not to let on that he was up to something.

“You might escape if I let you out and who would pick our Inkle grass then?” Garamel’s voice was gently mocking, but his eyes were hard.

“Our bodies ache from working all afternoon. It will do us good to stretch our limbs. Maybe we could make ourselves useful by serving you?”

Garamel sighed. “I suppose it cannot hurt to let you out for a while. It’s not like a human could ever outrun one of
us
.”

“Is this wise, Garamel?” Tibor studied them suspiciously.

“I don’t see the harm in it.”

Tibor nodded. “As you wish.”

The trio ran to and fro, trying to keep up with the unicorns’ voracious appetite for the Inkle grass. The animals were obviously enjoying their meal after having to go without it for so long. After about an hour, the talking and banter subsided, the unicorns’ eyes dulled, heads drooped. They became so tired they were no longer able to stand. One by one they got down on all fours. Some fell asleep sitting up, others lay down on the ground, apparently exhausted.

“Your witch’s potion worked,” Taine said.

“It’s not a potion,” Rhyll said. “I just happen to know that tattleberry leaves have a relaxing effect. Luckily, they’re a match for unicorn magic. I was a bit worried there for a while.”

“They didn’t suspect a thing,” Ash said. “Did you learn about tattleberry leaves from reading your mother’s book?”

Rhyll smiled. “Well, yes.”

“How long will it last?” Taine asked. He gave Tibor’s mane a cheeky tug.

“Taine!” Ash gasped.

“I’ve got to make sure he’s asleep,” Taine said.

“Ten minutes, half an hour at most,” Rhyll said. “I wasn’t able to pick many leaves when I fell over back on the trail.”

“In that case,” Ash said, “we’d better get going.”

Taine freed Trip from his cage while Ash untied Gwaam’s basket and let him down from the tree.

“Are you all right?” he asked the phoenix.

Gwaam was cold and limp, his feathers pale. “Feed me.”

“Oh no.” Ash felt cold with fear and worry. It was his role to protect Gwaam, but he was doing a terrible job. Hurriedly, he pressed some raspberries he’d picked on the way back to the clearing into the phoenix’s eager mouth. “He’s alive but very weak,” he told the others. “We need to get moving. Which way, Gwaam?”

The bird lifted its beak to indicate the direction they should take.

“Right. Let’s go,” Ash said.

They took off through the forest. It wasn’t long before Ash heard the sound of beating hooves. He glanced back and saw a pair of red eyes shining through the trees.

“There is no escape, humans. I
will
catch you.”

“It’s Tibor!” Rhyll cried. “The scary one.”

“Which one
wasn’t
scary?” Taine shrieked.

“I’ve got an idea.” Ash tossed Gwaam’s basket to Taine. “Take Gwaam.”

“Not again,” Taine protested. “Last time we split up you almost got yourself killed.”

Ash didn’t reply. Instead, he ran straight towards Tibor, shouting and waving to catch his attention. The unicorn lowered his head, pointing his horn directly at Ash’s heart.

“Now I’ve got you, human,” he roared.

Ash waited until Tibor was upon him then dived. He heard his shirt tear and felt stuck for a moment. Then he slid to the ground.

Ash felt himself all over as he staggered to his feet. His shirt was torn, his side grazed where Tibor’s horn had nearly run him through, but he was fine. The same couldn’t be said for Tibor, whose horn was buried deep in a pine tree.

“Help me.” Tibor shook his head furiously. “Help me and I will free you.”

“We already are free,” Ash said.

Ash led the others away through the trees, Trip following at their heels and Gwaam tucked up in the basket, looking miserable. They walked on through the twilight. It was slow going as the darkness thickened. They only had the moonlight to show their way, but they dare not stop in case the unicorns came after them.

In the early morning they came to a small stream. A day and a half had passed since they had set out on their mission when the black snow had covered their village.

The children and the dog threw themselves into the water and drank deeply. After replenishing their water pouches they sat back on the grass, resting.

They were all exhausted and in need of sleep and their meagre supply of food was long gone. Ash’s stomach clench with hunger, but he had bigger worries. “Gwaam will die if he doesn’t eat soon,” he said.

Taine chewed on a grass stem. “Won’t he be reincarnated?”

“Not if he doesn’t live his full life cycle,” Rhyll said. “Only adult phoenixes have the power of new life.”

“Why should we care? That phoenix got us into all this trouble and he’s absolutely no use. He said he’d help us!” Taine complained.

Trip leaped up and barked excitedly. Ash quietened him.

“What’s that noise?” Taine said.

Rhyll tilted her head. “Sounds like singing.” She slid through a clump of ferns and peered upstream. The boys crept in beside her. They saw a woman crouched by the water, her peppery hair spilling wild and unchecked down the back of her patched and faded dress.

Taine withdrew into the ferns. “It’s a witch.”

“There’s no such thing,” Ash said.

“Like there’s no such thing as dragons or unicorns or phoenixes?”

“Shush.” Rhyll crawled further forwards.

Ash clutched her shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“To say hello.”

“She might be dangerous.”

“She’s harmless.”

“Rhyll, wait.”

“Look, Ash, Gwaam’s not the only one who needs to eat–”

“Hear, hear,” Taine agreed.

Rhyll shook her head at her brother. “I’m going to ask if she can spare some food.”

“All right, but we’re coming too,” Ash said.

The friends watched the woman rinse her bowls in the stream, singing to herself as she worked. Rhyll opened her mouth to speak but the woman beat her to it.

“I’ve been expecting you,” she said with a smile.

“Told you she was a witch,” Taine hissed.

Rhyll elbowed him. “Why were you expecting us?”

“Heard you stumbling through the bushes, didn’t I? You
and
your dog.”

The friends exchanged glances while Trip jogged over to lick the woman’s hand.

Ash started in surprise. “He doesn’t normally like strangers.”

“Oh? I suppose he knows he has nothing to fear from me.” The woman ruffled Trip’s ears then fixed her attention on the others. “I expect you’re hungry, it being breakfast time and all. Fancy a bite to eat?”

“Would we ever,” Taine said.

Ash shook his head, amazed Taine’s fears were so easily forgotten when food was on offer.

“This way then.” The woman gathered her bowls.

After walking for a while, the woman stopped before an enormous fig tree. “Welcome to my home.”

Ash looked around. “Where is it?”

The woman twisted what appeared to be a knot on the grizzled tree trunk. As if by magic a door swung open, revealing the hollowed-out inside of the tree.

“That’s amazing,” Rhyll gasped. “You’d never know it was here.”

“That’s the idea, my dear.” She waved the group inside. “Sorry there’s not much room.”

Every available space in the tree cottage had been used. All around the walls hung pots, pans, plates and utensils. In one corner sat a rolled-up mattress. Ash guessed it was the woman’s bed, tucked away for the day. In the centre of the room was a low table. The friends sat, the boys dragging in some logs for extra seats. Even a fireplace had been built, its chimney fashioned out of a tree branch.

While her guests marvelled at the cottage, the woman lit the fire and tossed eggs and bacon into a pan.

Ash studied the woman. After their run-in with the unicorns, he’d decided to be more careful about anyone they met.

She looks harmless enough, Ash reasoned to himself. But that could be a trick.

“Do you keep animals nearby?” Taine asked, his stomach rumbling.

“I live from the forest, son. Have done these past nine years. Pigeons supply me with eggs and a wild boar caught in a trap lasts for weeks if I dry it properly.” She shrugged. “I get by.”

“You live on your own?” Rhyll asked.

“Yes, daughter.”

“Aren’t you lonely?”

“Aye, that I am, but ’tis a loneliness I must bear as punishment.”

“Why?” Taine asked.

The woman offered a mysterious smile. “Never you mind. You worry about putting this food away. Right then.” She waved the frypan around. “Who’s hungry?”

All hands shot up. Soon everyone’s plates were filled with eggs and bacon. Even Trip received a share. Ash roused Gwaam from his stupor and offered him some food. He was relieved to see the bird eating eagerly. The phoenix’s feathers darkened and he began to look well again.

“Gwaam will sleep now,” he said, then tucked his head beneath his wing.