The Hunting Ground (21 page)

‘Pick one, pick a weapon!’ Cullayn said, turning his gaze on Elliott. ‘At least have guts enough to choose
one
this time!’ He laughed, spitting out a sod of cold phlegm large enough to fill a mouth. His rough voice was that of a market street trader. ‘Or pick two!’ he cried. ‘I offer you choices of dispatch! Two for the price of one! What do you say, kind sir?’ Cullayn bowed and in a practised and elegant move knelt, whipped off his hat and spread his fare of weapons like a feast before Elliott.

Elliott did not know what to do: not pick, and perhaps Cullayn would cut him down where he stood; pick, and he knew the hunting ground would fast follow.

Cullayn gave Eve a cheery wink and offered the
weapons to her instead. ‘So choose for the boy,’ he said. ‘He’s shy.’

‘A bit of blood will cure that,’ Eve said. ‘A bit of his own.’

‘It will, it will,’ Cullayn replied, immensely pleased by her words. Eve giggled as the knives and swords clattered around her feet.

Elliott backed away across the floor. So far he’d seen Eve as the innocent party in all this, but her ruthless words, that giggle and the way she touched and felt the blades made him doubt there was any innocence left.

Janey said nothing. She did not even glance up. Her head was bent. She suddenly looked remarkably old, her neck thin enough to break with or without Cullayn’s intervention.

‘I’ve offered Eve a part in the final moments of your hunt,’ Cullayn said to Elliott. He made it sound like good news. ‘Not too big a part. She’s only a little girl.’ He and Eve both laughed when he said that. ‘But she’s anxious to play her role, aren’t you, Evey?’

Eve smiled at him and made a moue with her mouth, snatching the weapons up, pretending to like none of them. She picked a whip, threw it back. Picked a net, discarded it.

‘So, the little girl’s all a-flutter! She can’t decide! She’s all agog!’ Cullayn beamed, the points of light forming his mouth writhing counter-clockwise to the beard.

He squarely faced Elliott. ‘You’re not sure I’m real, are you boy? You think I’m just a set of cruel intentions buried inside a light display. Janey never understood what would happen if she let Ben in here. She never grasped that even without the first gusts of his life-force in my gut’ – Cullayn hugged his stomach in –‘even without Ben’s death, I’d be more than she could ever handle.’ Cullayn sighed contentedly, smashing a leisurely fist into the ground as if he had so much surplus energy that he had to find an outlet for it. The floor shook. ‘But what next?’ he said. ‘Not long now before your brother’s dead, Elliott. It’s nothing personal, but I’ll have Ben’s strength, you understand? And I’ll have yours, too. A hunter can never have too much stamina.’

Elliott could tell that Cullayn was waiting for a reaction from him, so he gave none. But he couldn’t help sneaking a look at Janey.

‘No, she’s no ideas left,’ Cullayn said, almost regretfully. ‘I’ve seen that look on her face before, haven’t I, Janey? No good looking to the old nag for anything, Elliott. You’re on your own.’ Cullayn brought Eve close and hugged her tight. ‘Look at this!’ he said to her. ‘They came to rescue you from the castle, but they forgot about the ogre in the moat, didn’t they?’

‘And he was all ready for ’em!’ she squealed back.

‘He was! He was! He splashed out and grabbed ’em!’

Cullayn looked delighted as he swung back to Elliott.
‘Ah, listen,’ he said, offering a magnanimous snort. ‘There’s honesty in you coming so willingly into my home to save your brother and your father. I’ll give you a fair chase for that, boy, and dispatch you sharply when it’s time to be done. But what does Janey deserve? What’s she done to improve herself in all these years? A lifetime of self-loathing and fretting. What’s that worth, Elliott? What respect has she earned?’

Cullayn knelt down, tapped Janey’s bony knees. ‘She’s such a coward, such a wretched cowardly woman. She never dared come into my East Wing again till your family arrived, Elliott. Did she tell you that? Too scared, she was. But she wanted so much, poor girl. Still does. To free the ghost-children, of course. But to prove herself as well, to feel the special power of defeating me on such a day as this, to follow through truly, despite the fear, and what’s more to do the right thing, even by you.’

Cullayn smiled, his whole lower jaw pressing towards Janey like a hyena. ‘And then to gracefully retire and say adieu to all her cares. To finally gain her well-deserved peace. There’s a mildewed bench in the graveyard, Elliott. It’s virtually as old as her. Our Janey likes that seat. Looks over the south downs, it does, lovely little view, and I’ve seen the wistful look she has there sometimes. I understand her better than she knows herself. She’d love to know that the ghost children have
passed on because they’ve vanquished the evil owner of Glebe House, and then – ah! – then to be able to sit alone in peace at last, on her stupid bench, curled up with a racy book.’

Cullayn shook with laughter. ‘That’s quite a set of ambitions, isn’t it, Elliott? That’s something worth drinking to, eh?’ He thumbed towards Janey, who was still backed against the wall, staring mutely into space. ‘Here’s the thing, though. That’s all just rubbish in her head. But what do you think Janey fears most?’

Elliott did not reply. He was too frightened to say anything.

‘Tongue need loosening?’ Cullayn asked. ‘I can help with that. I
will
help with that. But first let’s have a little hunt.’ He turned back to Eve. ‘What do you say, Evey?’

‘A hunt for the brave boy!’ Eve called out, and Cullayn laughed.

Levelling his glowing eyes on Elliott, Cullayn pretended to hide his next words from Eve behind his big hand. ‘Eve likes to hear me talk of hunting in a childish sort of fashion,’ he whispered. ‘But the doing of it’s another thing, eh? Is she ready? She still thinks it’s a kind of pageant, a slice of fun. But I need her all grown up for the plans I have for us after this. She’s got a lot of my strength inside her now, and I need all of it on my side to see my ambitions go fruitfully forward.
So, now, will you give us a worthwhile hunt, Elliott? Will you help me get her ready?’

Cullayn chuckled as he said that, leaning closer.

‘Your father’s in a bad way, son,’ he tutted. ‘We’ll let him rest, shall we? But Janey, we’ll not let her rest, no. She broke an oath to me. She was meant to bring you to me, but not hidden in the dark glamour she conjured.
I
bring the darkness here. So now I want that heart of hers bursting.’ Cullayn stood. ‘Therefore, let’s set the terms of the hunt, the contest, the conditions. Eve will ensure all parties play honest and fair. I’ll even give you a head start, boy. What time is it?’

‘Five minutes to midnight!’ Eve cried instantly.

‘Five minutes to midnight.’ Cullayn beamed. ‘Fair enough. I’ll give you till midnight then, Elliott. Five minutes to get lost and find yourself somewhere else. There’s a way out. I’ve opened a door to outside no one knows about. If you can find it I’ll let you go. By god, if you make it out I’ll drag your father there myself, and Ben, and hand ’em back to you! I’ll give you them both, your family entire. What do you say to that?’

Elliott stared at the star-eyes of Vincent Cullayn. A hint of truthfulness underlined his expression: he meant what he said. At the same time Elliott knew by now that Cullayn only made such an offer because he didn’t expect to fail.

‘You’re right, boy,’ Cullayn said, seeing his hesitation.
‘I never lost a quarry before. Sam nearly outlasted me, but I got him in the end, and I’ll get you as well.’ He patted Elliott’s shoulder amiably. ‘I’ll introduce you to my hunting ground soon, but first you’ve got to earn the right. We’ll have a prior bit of a chase in the East Wing. Evey, are you ready?’

Eve stamped her feet. At first Elliott thought it was some kind of petulance, but then he saw it was a stamp of pride in Cullayn.

Cullayn clapped his hands, and all the daylight began to fade again.

‘What … what about Janey?’ Elliott managed to stutter, his heart sinking.

‘The old dear gets to live as long as her legs can carry her,’ Cullayn said indifferently, tugging at his beard. ‘That old quailing bell of hers is already hammering away. If she falters on the hunt, I’ll cut her down where she stands.’

Janey bent towards Elliott, hurriedly whispered, ‘Just run. Even if I survive the East Wing, he’ll kill me in the hunting ground, there’s no escaping that now. I’ll keep up as long as I can, lighting the way.’

‘That’s the spirit!’ Cullayn said brightly, but he looked distracted now, wanting to begin. The darkness in the knight’s room gradually became so complete that only the owner’s starlit outline enabled Elliott to see anything at all. Cullayn’s weapons rose up from the floor, and he
juggled them, his feet dancing under him, his knees crossing back and forth too fast to see.

‘Choose, choose, or get none!’ he shouted wildly. ‘I’ll give you one weapon, Elliott, and in return I’ll take nothing. How’s that for an honest fight? Quick! Choose! Or I’ll kill you.’

‘A gun,’ Elliott said immediately.

‘Why?’ Cullayn asked, still juggling. ‘Scared of a knife? Scared to get so close?’

It was true. Elliott had been thinking he didn’t want a close-quarter fight.

Cullayn roared with laughter. ‘Then it’s a gun, but since you did not ask for ammunition you may have to bludgeon me with it. Still, choices have been and will be honoured. Do you agree to the terms?’

‘What if I refuse?’

‘Then I’ll strike you dead now,’ Cullayn said bluntly. ‘I’ll have my hunt, if you please.’

Elliott reached for the gun. It vanished.

‘A jest! Only our hands!’ Cullayn cried, crackling with laughter, and Eve laughed with him. ‘Should we give the boy some help?’ Cullayn asked her. ‘He looks so forlorn, poor lamb.’

‘Yes!’ Eve piped merrily.

‘All right, all right, we will. What shall it be?’ Cullayn made an exaggerated gesture of thinking deeply, drawing his fingers across his chin. Then he grinned, peering at
Eve. ‘Let’s show ’em how much you’ve learned under my artistic guidance, Evey. Make a spider-map!’

Eve nodded eagerly as Cullayn blew a puff of dust at her. She rapidly fashioned the particles into a delicate spiderweb-thin diagram depicting the East Wing. Adding details, sticking out her tongue in concentration, she handed it to Elliott.

The spider-map showed an exit somewhere behind him. But it was only a working of air and dust, never meant to last, and it was already crumbling in his fingers. He desperately tried to memorise the details.

‘What time is it?’ Cullayn thundered.

‘Five minutes to midnight!’ Eve yelled.

‘So then! What’s everyone waiting for?’ Cullayn waggled his fingers. ‘Tell him, Janey.’

Janey looked hard at Elliott.

‘Run!’ she said.

When every room, corridor, crease and tuck of air is your pursuer’s vantage-point and trap, what do you do? Where do you go?

Elliott held the spider-map in front of his eyes and dashed back the way he had come. Janey raised her hand, illuminating the way. For two minutes she was able to pick up her legs at a fair pace and stay close enough to guide Elliott while he read the map. Left he went, right, straight on, and straight again, through a blur of rooms.

In Elliott’s hands the dust-map disintegrated on draughts.

‘I can’t follow this!’

‘Stop a minute, then!’ Janey yelled, gasping for breath.

As Elliott paused the map’s contours crumbled. He despairingly turned it this way and that.

‘Do you have any idea where the exit is?’ he said.

‘No, but Cullayn won’t be lying.’

‘Where’s the most likely place?’

As Janey chewed her lip, the remnants of the spider-map blew away.

‘The rear of the East Wing,’ she said, reading its dregs. ‘Most of that borders the garden, not the house.’ Already grey with tiredness Janey ran on, leading the way this time.

‘You can’t carry on at this pace,’ Elliott told her.

Without slowing down, she said, ‘I’m not going to live through this anyway. If I can help get you out of here, I will.’

They raced through the corridors. Elliott had no idea where he was: the carpets, the walls and intersections all looked the same. How long had it been since the hunt started? It doesn’t matter, he realised. Cullayn decided the time here.
He
was the clock.

‘One minute to midnight!’ chirped a high voice behind them.

It was Eve, slipping in their wake so quietly that they’d been unaware of her.

‘I am the timekeeper,’ she announced. ‘I ensure the fairness of the game. I am going back now to make sure Cullayn is still in the knight’s room. I won’t let him leave early, though he may wish to.’ She gave Elliott a warm look, but he couldn’t tell if she really meant him well or if she was just enjoying the whole experience of the chase as much as Cullayn.

‘Eve,’ Janey said, trembling with fatigue. ‘Do you … do you know the way out?’

She nodded.

‘Won’t you show us?’

‘I can’t do that. It’s against the rules.’

‘They’re Cullayn’s rules, and we should not live by them,’ Janey told her.