Shadow Spell (35 page)

Nin's world was growing dark, and the pain settled into one great ball of fire in her chest as her heart got ready to explode. She sagged, and Jik shoved his arms around her chest, holding her up. Jonas turned, wildeyed with fear, looking for the sorcerer.

Dark reached them, leaned forward and pressed a cool hand to Nin's forehead.

‘There you go,' he said, ‘all better now.'

Nin gasped as the pain began to recede at once. Behind them, Strood whirled the sword, bringing it down in a blow that should have cut both the sorcerer and Nin in half. Only there was a sizzle of hot air and suddenly Nin's world became a blur of movement so fast she could feel her molecules spin. Then everything was normal again, except she was on the other side of the clearing, slung over the sorcerer's shoulder.

‘Was that real superspeed?' she mumbled, steaming. ‘As opposed to nearly superspeed?'

On the plus side, it had dried out some of the pus and she didn't appear to be cooked. She saw that already her split skin was healing.

‘With knobs on,' said Dark proudly, dropping her to the ground. ‘Note that you are not currently a cinder! We sorcerers can do almost anything, you know.'

There was a howl of rage from across the clearing. Strood swung the sword wildly, forcing the others to leap back out of the way. He had eyes now. Two new
ones with no trace of quartz. And a few bits of skin.

‘Ahh,' said Dark, raising an eyebrow. Light flashed from his fingers and suddenly Strood was wearing a smart white suit. Nin was glad. He was healing up pretty fast and things could have turned embarrassing. This time there were no scars and if he hadn't been an immortal, insane, death-dealing psychopath he might have looked quite nice.

Angry though, definitely angry.

Vision restored, he spun towards Nin, whirled the sword up over his head and threw it. The blade sailed through the air, a shining, silver-white streak hurtling straight for Nin's heart. She stepped neatly to one side. The sword flew past her and stuck in one of the Dancing Trees, where it quivered, singing quietly.

For only the second time in his long and cruel life, Arafin Strood completely and utterly lost it. He went nova.

‘You,' he snarled, having just discovered that he now had lips to snarl with, ‘you snivelling, scrawny, insufferable little
brat
.' His voice rose to a scream. ‘How dare you challenge me!'

Nin edged towards Dark, feeling hurt by the snivelling comment. She was sure she had only cried when it was really bad. She wasn't too keen on scrawny either.

Strood pulled himself up to his full height. He was quivering all over with fury, his face twisted up with it, his eyes like chips of black ice.

‘That's it,' he said, ‘it ends NOW!' He flung back his
head and screamed. It wasn't a word, but it still sounded like a command that echoed through the air in spreading ripples until it reached its target.

Back in Hilfian, the Death Flock's approach to the town had been hidden by the wall of Raw, which blocked people's view of the horizon. It took them completely by surprise, appearing over the top of the Raw and crashing down on them in a tidal wave of inky black.

Shouts of alarm rose as the air grew cold. Ice ran over puddles and ponds, leaves began to wither on the tallest trees and flowers pulled in their petals sensing night in the middle of the day. The shouts turned to screams as the Death Flock swept over Hilfian, a hundred thousand wings whirring and a hundred thousand beaks open, soundless but letting out a trilling that was made of raw fear. Everywhere, everyone ran.

‘Get to the cellars,' yelled Hilary above the clamour of frightened voices. ‘We'll be safe there!'

She darted into the town hall, calling to the patients to move as Maug birds poured into every hut, broken or whole, through every gap and crevice. Their chill put out fires and froze barrels of water and where they found life they swept around it hungrily and then moved on, leaving only husks of flesh and bone.

Ahead of the flood, people snatched up their children and ran, screaming. Goats and chickens were devoured in a heartbeat, their tiny lives extinguished as the flock
ate everything Quick in its path. Even the Grimm weren't safe. The birds just ate around the Fabulous parts and left the remains. Only the Fabulous would survive this attack and there was nothing they could do to help the others.

In the town hall, Hilary leaned to pull open the trap door.

'Great Galig help us,'
whispered Senta's spell in her head and she looked up to see Death birds pour in through the door. Around her, people screamed, trying to bat away the swarm of tiny, icy bodies and sharp beaks.

‘Galig can't do anything now,' said Hilary as the flock raced towards her. She shut her eyes, feeling cold surround her. She held out her arms to let the birds feed. If she was going to die, it might as well be quick. The chill cut into her like knives as a hundred tiny beaks dipped into her skin. She felt their darkness surging through her veins, exchanging life for death.

Suddenly, a ripple ran through the flock. Not a sound so much as a vibration echoed from every beak. For a moment, the birds swirled in confusion and Hilary could feel their icy bodies buffeting against her. And then the pain and the cold lifted. Opening her eyes, Hilary saw the flock rising again, pouring upwards into the sky and gathering into a dark mass over the town. Around her, people began to stir and groan. Most people. One or two lay still.

Overhead the Death Flock circled and began to move,
heading back in the direction it had come from as if in answer to a summons. As they went, the birds began to pick up speed. Bewildered, Hilary watched them go.

In the Dancing Circle, the air shimmered and something in the light changed and then was gone. Nin glanced up at Dark. He was frowning.

‘That felt like magic,' she said.

‘No magic,' snapped Strood. ‘I summoned the Maug. Change of plan, Hilfian can wait. My Death Flock can feed on you first, all of you, Quick and Grimm!' He glared at Dark and Taggit. But especially Dark. ‘The Fabulous I'll deal with later.'

Jonas ran across the clearing to Nin. Already a streak had appeared on the skyline, a slash of inky darkness that grew, racing back from Hilfian. As it tore across the sky, the Maug flock had changed, the thousands of bodies losing their form and running together, merging into a single mass. Now it was no longer a flock, it was just one great Death, answering its master's call with horrifying speed.

‘You won't escape this time,' sneered Strood, ‘even your Fabulous friends can't help you now.'

A look flickered across Dark's face. It was the same look that had crossed Ava Vispilio's earlier that day – sudden realisation as the penny dropped and after all these terrible years he finally understood how the Deathweave worked.

‘They won't have to,' he said sadly. ‘What just happened, it wasn't magic, it was the breaking of magic.'

Nin shivered as the cloud of darkness flowed swiftly across the sky. The Death swirled, dipping towards the Dancing Circle. Trees dropped leaves suddenly heavy with ice, and frost ran over the fields, spreading in a crisp coat. Skinkin felt it coming and howled a howl of longing to be part of that death.

‘You see, the terrible thing is,' Dark went on softly, ‘the Deathweave did precisely what we said, we were just too scared to trust it. The potion would have let us live for
exactly as long as we wanted to
. When we had had enough of life, all we needed to do was …'

‘… call it back!' whispered Nin.

Strood went white as he understood. The summons he had just sent to the Maug had ended the spell that kept them apart. He had called his Death home and it was coming. Fast.

‘Help me!' he said. His eyes had gone wide and dark and for a second Nin saw the face of the man he used to be, a long time ago before it had all gone so horribly wrong.

Inky shadow poured from the sky in a whirlpool of darkness, funnelling down towards its master. It poured right into Strood and for a moment there was silence.

In all the years that had passed, Arafin Strood had been through many deaths. They all scrambled to kill him at once.

He screamed as the faerie pox, which had been raging uselessly in his body for the last day or so, worked out that it could finally get him and moved in, determined to be the first. Boils erupted all over his skin, appearing, swelling and bursting in one very fluid moment. They had to travel fast because his flesh began to fall off almost at once, the old scars where the wolves had pulled him apart opening up like fault lines all over his body. And then there was the faerie venom, racing to turn him into mush before his skin was eaten away by the pox. It all happened in the space of one terrible scream.

And there was Dark's blast of firebreath, too. Just as Strood's soft bits were dissolving to reveal a shocked-looking skeleton, he burst into flames.

Everyone leapt back as the skeleton burned fiercely before it exploded, showering red-hot bones and steaming dribble everywhere.

The echo of Strood's last scream died away and silence settled, broken only by the soft crackle and spit of flames. Then the smell of barbecue and acid caught up with the watching group's noses and everyone began to cough and splutter.

‘Well,' croaked Dark through streaming eyes and a sore throat, ‘I guess that's the end of Arafin Strood.'

But they watched the remains sizzle for a little while longer, just to make absolutely sure.

‘D'you think,' Nin said thoughtfully, ‘that I might've got it wrong about Wednesday? I mean, even if bad things did happen on a Wednesday – Toby ceasing to exist, being stolen by Skerridge and all that – the fact is that I survived them all against the odds. Like, it's Wednesday today and we've finally managed to beat Strood. He won't be killing off the Seven and weakening the Land, which means the Raw will stop spreading so fast and the Drift will go on for a few more years at least.'

‘So, you mean that really Wednesday is your lucky day,' said Jonas. ‘The day you succeed against the odds?'

‘Yeah!'

She nodded firmly. She, Jonas and Jik were back in Hilfian, sitting on the grass outside the ruins of the town hall, waiting for Simeon Dark. He had promised to take them back to the Quickmare at No 27. From there they would get through to Dunforth Hill and then Nin would go home. She was still hoping to persuade Jonas to take his memory pearl too, though he had always said he wouldn't.

She flopped on to her back and stretched out, amazed at how nice it felt not to be running away or fighting for her life for a change. Around them, people were busy mending huts, setting things to rights, and generally being happy to be alive. The sun was shining and the sky was a glorious clear blue and right now Nin felt wonderfully free.

‘In a lot of ways, I'll be sorry to leave it all,' she said softly, ‘and really sorry to leave Jik, but he's … well, he's growing up now and it's time he went off to be his own Fabulous. Besides, we know where the gateways are.' She took a sidelong glance at Jonas. ‘I suppose I should say
I
know, since you think too much time's passed for you to go back to the Widdern. Not that I agree. I mean, you must have a family who would want you back even after four years. And we'd still be friends …'

‘It's more than that,' said Jonas slowly. ‘It's all I've seen and done. I don't know if I could fit in again.' There was a thoughtful look in his eyes. ‘I'd be expected to be normal. School and everything.'

Nin scrunched up her face, thinking about it. ‘Yeah, true, it would take time. But you've got me. And what would you do here anyway? Hilary is going to stay and help Hen, Taggit and the others put Hilfian back together. Skerridge … sorry, Dark … is going to open up his Mansion again, and wants to free all the people held prisoner in Strood's Terrible House, and help all the servants too – after all, he knows what Strood was like to work for!' She sent an affectionate glance at the
mudman standing in the sun, soaking up the heat. ‘Jik wants to go travelling and see what's left of the Drift. So, would you stay in Hilfian too?'