The Feral Child (13 page)

The golden bolts and locks on the doors began to whirr and click into life as Liadan approached, shooting bolts and turning tumblers as her bone-numbing
cold reached out and patterned their lower reaches with ice. She held out her arms and cried out and the doors flew open at her approach. At the foot of the steps, Danny and Roisin stood and gazed open-mouthed as Liadan picked her way toward them, with Maddy, Stephen, George, and her court trailing in her wake.

“Ah yes, the spares,” said Liadan as she caught sight of them. “Come with us.”

Warily, Danny and Roisin fell into step next to Maddy.

Roisin frowned when she saw Stephen in such a deep sleep in Maddy’s arms. “Why doesn’t he wake up?” she asked.

“He will,” said Maddy grimly, hugging him closer to her. “He will. We just have to get him home.”

Liadan made her painful, crippled way down the road that led to the lakeside. After the long descent to the shore, she walked to the edge of the waves, crouched, and put a hand in the water.

As soon as her skin touched the waves, the surface of the lake shuddered like an animal. Water began to turn to ice around her wrist, and she called out a single word. The ice floes collided and crushed themselves to fine powder against each other. The powder mingled with the stiffening waves until, in a matter of seconds, an ice bridge stretched from shore to shore.

“Cross quickly while the bridge holds,” said Liadan. “Once your feet touch the soil on the other side, the hunt starts. You will be shown no mercy.”

Maddy nodded and turned to go.

“One more thing,” said Liadan, as Maddy turned back to face her, Stephen cradled against her chest. “If it’s to be a proper hunt, then the hounds should follow a blood trail. Don’t you think?”

Maddy looked at her in confusion. Before she had time to react, Liadan closed the gap between them and grabbed Maddy’s shoulder. Shards of ice shot from her fingertips and slid straight through Maddy’s skin.

Maddy’s heart missed a beat, and all the sound in the world rushed out of her ears. She clutched Stephen even tighter and stared stupidly at the white fingers hooked into her skin and the hot red blood that pattered on to Stephen’s fine blond hair. Somewhere she could hear Roisin and Danny shouting. When Liadan let go, Maddy sank to her knees, her legs too weak from shock to hold her up. Sound rushed back in a wave and broke over her head.

“What are you doing?” yelled Roisin, restraining a barking George from biting Liadan, as Danny rushed to Maddy’s side. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt us!”

“Only on the journey toward me,” hissed Liadan, her boiled eyes narrowed to slits. “I made no such provision for the journey away.”

With that she turned on her heel and swept back toward the tower, her court still following in her wake.

“Come on, Maddy, we’ve got to get out of here,” said Danny, hooking his arms underneath her armpits and hauling her to her feet. Maddy yelled with pain as he
lifted her, her body jerking with the cold that spread from her shoulder like an infection. Her breath came in shallow gulps, but her head was drenched in hot sweat. Roisin rushed to take Stephen from her, while Danny pulled one of her arms around his neck and set off along the ice bridge, making her scream again as her wound was jolted.

She could barely keep her head up as the cold spread through her body. George raced across the bridge, urging them on with barks that were high and sharp with anxiety. Danny dragged Maddy, her feet tripping over each other as she sobbed, her breath hitching in her chest.

“Keep going,” Danny grunted. “We’re nearly there. Just a little bit further.”

After what seemed like an eternity, they half fell, half slid from the bridge on to the far shore. Maddy collapsed on to the ground and curled up, giving into the pain. Across the lake she could hear the mournful cry of a hunting horn. The Winter Court’s hunt was riding out, and she couldn’t take another step.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Danny leaned over her. “Maddy, you have to
get up! We have to run!”

She shook her head at him. “I . . . can’t,” she gasped.

“Please, Maddy,” Danny begged. “The forest is just a few yards behind you. If we can get deep enough inside it, we can hide or find help. You can’t give up now!”

Maddy groaned and shook her head. Roisin kneeled on the ground and rocked Stephen to and fro, her face buried in his blood-matted hair.

“Maddy, if you don’t run, they are going to get us, and everything we’ve been through won’t matter,” said Danny. “They’ll kill us all—you know they will. Please get up!”

“Leave me,” said Maddy. “Take Stephen and get out of here. Run for the mound.”

“I’m not doing that,” said Danny, his teeth clenched.

“You have to,” said Maddy. “I’m so sorry. I never thought things would get so serious.” George whimpered and nuzzled her cheek with his cold nose.

Behind them, the tower burst into activity. Lights blazed in every window, while shouts of excitement and high-pitched whinnies drifted across the lake.

Danny looked at Roisin. “You can get us out of here, Ro.”

She raised a tear streaked face. “Me? I can’t do anything,” she said.

“Yes, you can,” said Danny. “We need to be clever to get out of this, and you’re the smart one. Think, Ro! What do we need to get us out of here?”

George began to growl, and Maddy turned her head to look back at the tower. Pennants were fluttering, and white mounts were racing along the winding road that led from the tower down to the beach. Brightly dressed faeries sat astride them, and the shadowy fir dorocha were out in front, whipping on the baying scucca hounds.

“Better make it fast, Ro.” Maddy coughed with the effort it took to speak. She closed her eyes as the cold bit at muscle and nerve. George wedged his body between her neck and shoulder and began to lick her face frantically with his hot tongue.

Roisin’s head snapped up and she stared at them. “That’s it!” she cried.

“What?” said Danny. “Have you thought of something?”

“We can’t outsmart them or make them leave us alone, so we need to outrun them,” said Roisin. “We need something very fast and something that can carry us between the two worlds.”

“It would need to be very, very quick,” said Maddy. The hunt had reached the bridge now and was beginning to pour across it. The hounds’ bays were sharp and sounded all too close. The ice bridge boomed as the mounts began to thunder across, Fachtna’s in the lead.

“Well, like what?” said Danny. “Quick, Ro!”

“Shut up, I’m thinking!” she snapped. She bent her head and closed her eyes. “This world is a dream, right? Nothing here would exist if the Morrighan didn’t dream it.”

“That’s what Fionn said,” said Danny. “What of it?”

“Think about it,” said Roisin. “If it’s a dream, then we can influence it, right? We can dream inside the dream, and it will happen.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Danny.

“What’s the effect Hobbs said we have on this place?” said Roisin. “We pollute it.” She raised a finger and tapped the side of her head. “We pollute it with what we’ve got up here.” She turned to look at the hunt as it charged across the bridge. It was now halfway across, and Maddy could see tongues of flame belching from the hounds’ mouths as they raced toward them, the whips of the fir dorocha curling over their heads, driving them on.

“We can give the Morrighan nightmares,” said Roisin thoughtfully, as the hunt raced closer.

“Roisin, my life is flashing in front of my eyes, never mind my dreams!” yelled Danny. “If you’ve got a plan, go for it!”

Roisin smiled and scraped away some of the pebbles, placing her hands flat against the bare earth beneath.

“Those mounts are pretty scary,” she grinned. “Let’s make some of our own.”

For a moment nothing happened, and then shadows that clung to the rocks and the trees and even huddled beneath the lip of the ice bridge began to run together, forming three distinct patches. The pools of shadow grew bigger and bigger. They swirled and grew heavier and darker, until they lay solid as flesh on the ground. They were still for a moment, and then they began to ripple and churn. In the writhing mass, clear shapes began to emerge. Horse heads stretched out into the clear air, followed by long muscular necks. Broad backs and flat flanks began to take form in front of Maddy’s eyes, until the last of the shadows solidified into long, lean legs. The ground blazed white without its shadows, and three gigantic black horses looked down at the children as they huddled on the ground. The animals’ edges blurred if you stared at them, and as they moved, the sounds of crying and weeping wafted faintly about them.

“What are they?” asked Maddy.

“They’re nightmares,” crowed Roisin. “Geddit?”

“Pure genius, Ro,” yelled Danny. “Pure, bloody genius!”

“Of course.” She grinned.

Danny helped Maddy to her feet. She swayed when she stood, numb to every thought and sensation other than the sickening pain that was spreading through her.
I’ll never manage this,
she thought, as the baying of the hounds and the bloodthirsty cries of the Winter Court got closer and closer. Fionn’s tearstained face floated in front of her.
How stupid am I?

George whimpered, holding one paw in the air as his eyes roved around her face. The mare closest to her seemed to hear Maddy’s thoughts. She walked over and lay down. Maddy grabbed a handful of mane and scraped her leg over the mare’s ribs. The nightmare climbed back to her feet, with Maddy lying along her back, her pale, sweating face laid against the long neck. As the cold tightened its grip on her chest, Maddy’s breath was beginning to wheeze in and out of her lungs. George began to keen, rising up on his back legs to get closer to her. She reached out a hand to reassure him.

“Can you do this?” asked Danny.

She gave him a weak smile. “I haven’t got much choice.”

The other two mares offered their backs to Danny and Roisin. Danny grabbed George and zipped him tight into his jacket before climbing on board. Roisin swung a leg over with easy confidence, cradling Stephen with one arm. She grabbed a fistful of mane.

“Hold on tight,” she said, before flicking the horse’s flanks with her heels and urging her on. The nightmare bunched her muscles and leaped forward, galloping away into the forest, her sisters racing to keep up with her. Behind them, the disappointed shrieks of the hunt rose in the air, scattering sleeping birds from the trees.

The nightmares moved through the Land of Eternal Youth like a haunting. The trees slid past them in silence. There was no drumming of hoofs, no impact with the ground to jolt Maddy’s pain-racked body. Just the easy clench and release of muscle as the nightmare stretched out beneath her and the sound of breathing mingling with the quiet of the night forest. Maddy lay her cheek against the satin skin and closed her eyes as the faerie world rushed past.

Her eyes snapped open as the nightmare skidded to a halt. They had reached the mound, but there was no opening to be seen. It squatted in the night, a grass hillock, nothing more. It certainly offered no hope of escape.

“What do we do now?” asked Roisin. The nightmares had outrun the hunt, but it was catching up. Already the faint cries of the hounds and the excited shouts of the riders drifted toward them on the wind.

“I think we have to get out the same way we got in,” said Danny grimly, getting off his nightmare and walking toward Maddy. She looked down at him. “Sorry about this,” he said.

“What?” she asked.

“This,” said Danny, and he reached up and pressed his hand against the wound in her shoulder. Maddy yelped in pain and clutched at the nightmare’s neck as she swayed with dizziness.

“What was that for?” she wheezed.

“I’m really, really sorry,” said Danny, looking sheepish as he walked toward the mound, holding his hand out before him. “But you are the only one of us who is bleeding already, so it’s just easier . . .” He leaned down and rubbed his bloody hand on the wet grass that blanketed the mound.

Maddy held her breath and waited. After what seemed like an eternity, the front of the mound fell away, soil and rock rumbling and pattering down the side of the hill. A square-cut tunnel led into the dark hill.

“Let’s go,” said Roisin, kicking her heels against her nightmare’s flanks while Danny scrambled to get back on his own horse.

The nightmares flowed through the ink-black tunnel, racing deep into the earth. There was a dull light up ahead, but when they raced out of the tunnel, instead of entering a domed room at the heart of the mound, they found themselves in the black sand desert.

There was nowhere to run to. There was no end to the desert. The sand stretched to the horizon.

“Where do we go from here?” said Danny. “Are we supposed to just imagine our way back to Blarney?”

“I don’t know,” said Roisin. “I’m trying to imagine it, but nothing’s happening.”

The sound of a hunting horn and a dreadful baying drifted over the sand—the scucca hounds were right behind them.

“They’re catching up with us!” yelled Danny. George popped his head out of his jacket and started barking. “They’re coming through the mound!” The little terrier was yapping fit to burst.

“George, not now!” said Roisin. “Shut up and give me a second to think.”

Maddy raised her head and looked at the dog. “Look,” she croaked, pointing at him.

“What?” said Danny. “I don’t see anything.”

“Look at what he’s barking at,” said Maddy.

George was barking with a steady rhythm. His body was tense and quivering, and his noise pointed up, straight at the weak sun that burned overhead. A sun that wasn’t setting, unlike the sun in their world or the Land of Eternal Youth.

“We’re in the mound,” said Maddy. “He thinks we’ve gone to earth.”

“That’s it!” said Roisin. “He’s a hunting dog. He thinks we’re in a rabbit warren, and he’s pointing the way out.”

Danny looked up, his forehead creasing with doubt. “The sun? He’s pointing us at the sun?”

“Daylight,” said Roisin, “at the end of the tunnel.”

“But how do we get there?” said Maddy.

Roisin looked up, tugged on her nightmare’s mane, kicked her feet against her ribs, and cried, “Up!”

It was that simple. The nightmare reared and launched herself into the air, heading straight for the weak disc. Maddy flung her arms around her nightmare’s neck as she felt the animal stand up on her back legs before leaping. She closed her eyes and heard Danny whoop with excitement behind her.

The wind whistled in Maddy’s ears and pried at her eyelids. Then it was dark and she was being squashed and squeezed. She fought against the temptation to open her mouth and scream, convinced soil would flood into her chest rather than air. A roaring noise filled her ears, and the mare exploded out of the mound in a shower of dirt, before landing gracefully.

Maddy opened her eyes and slid carefully off the mare’s back. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the nightmare began to dissolve. Maddy stroked her soft nose as she faded away. “Thank you,” she whispered. The horse rumbled in her throat and nuzzled Maddy’s face before the shadows drifted apart.

“It’s snowing here,” said Roisin. “We’ve got to get off this mound!”

Maddy staggered and turned to look at the mouth of the tunnel yawning behind them. They were home, back in Blarney, and Stephen was safe. Surely Liadan and Fachtna would have turned the hunt back? There was a faint sound, a whisper of noise that curled up from the black mouth of the tunnel. Maddy strained her ears to
listen. There it was, the faint but unmistakable sound of hounds giving tongue. The hunt was still coming.

Clutching Stephen to her, Roisin ran for the edge of the mound and the sheets of pouring rain that showed where the mortal world started and the faerie ended. George scrabbled free of Danny’s jacket and pulled at the hem of Maddy’s jeans, urging her on. Danny grabbed Maddy’s arm and dragged her down the hill.

Thunder and lightning exploded around the mound, lighting up the castle grounds like the flash of a camera and blinding Maddy momentarily. She willed her legs to keep moving, but just when they were almost there, she collided with something she couldn’t see. Danny kept on running, losing his grip on her jacket as he ran off the hill. But Maddy was thrown back by the force of her collision, her teeth jarring in her head.

Stunned, she climbed to her feet and tried again. The same invisible barrier repelled her like a sheet of glass. Danny and Roisin had turned to see where she was, and she could see the horror on their faces and their mouths moving as they called to her. George was barking and scrabbling at the barrier with his front paws. Stephen was waking in Roisin’s arms, his face crumpling in distress. But she couldn’t hear them. It was as if she were watching TV with the sound switched off.

But with awful clarity she could hear the hunt gaining on her. The cries of the hounds and the riders were clearer now as they drifted from the mouth of the tunnel behind. Another few seconds and they would be on
her. She lifted her hand and hit out at the wall. It rippled from the force of her blow, but she still couldn’t force her way through. Then a man appeared, behind Danny and Roisin, walking in the rain with the collar of his coat turned up. He lifted his head to look at her, and Maddy cried out in misery as she recognized Granda, gripping a spitting, struggling changeling firmly by the neck. She saw the fear in his eyes as she tried to reach for him, but she was again thrown back.

She began to cry, beating at the barrier with her fists. In front of her, Danny, Granda, and Roisin ran their shoulders against the other side, but it was no use. Maddy was sealed in as tight as a figurine in a snow globe.

She slid to her knees. Hot tears carved tracks through the grime on her face. She put her hand against the skin that was stopping her from stepping across into safety, and Granda put his palm against hers.

“Why is this happening to me?” she wept. He shook his head. Then his eyes looked past her, widening in fear. She saw Danny and Roisin shouting and pointing.