The Wildwood Arrow (15 page)

“Laney, what’s happened to you?” Fletcher stared at her. “For Thorn’s sake, your hands are burning!”

“That’s incredible!” Claudia’s jaw dropped.

Laney put her hands behind her back. “Don’t tell anyone yet. I need some time to figure this out—” She broke off as Gwen flew down and landed beside them.

Gwen closed her pale-green wings. Her eyes had purple smudges beneath them and her skin seemed paper thin, but lightning still sparked at her fingertips. “The Shadow’s gone for now, but I never thought to see so much damage.” She gazed around at the pitted earth, ripped open by black tree roots.

Laney hesitated. “When we came to your house, you were under a spell…”

“The valerian? Yes, I know.” Her eyes glinted. “The Shadow should have known that would not hold me for ever. But I never thought to see all this…”

“The Shadow poisoned the Wildwood Arrow,” Laney told her. “Stingwood started working on a secret project in the forest but he didn’t know that the Shadow was using dark magic on the Arrow. As he worked on his Avalon project, he gave himself and the Thorns over to the Shadow’s control.”

“This still has Shadow magic in it.” Fletcher held out the Arrow at arm’s length. “I can feel it trying to work on me.” His hand trembled and a greenish
hue passed across his skin. “And the other Thorns are still bewitched.” He indicated the scattered Thorn figures around the park.

Claudia clutched her side where the lightning had struck her. “There’s a rain puddle by the swings. I’ll dip the arrow in there; if we’re lucky it will contain some of the potion we made.” She took the Arrow from Fletcher.

“We put moonwort leaves into a bottle of elixir,” Laney explained quickly to Gwen. “It was the moonwort you picked at the red moon.”

They watched as Claudia dipped the Arrow in the puddle. “Ew!” she said. “All this black gunk is coming out. I think it’s safe now. You’d better check it, Fletcher.”

“I can’t believe I’m letting a Greytail hold the Thorn Myrical,” Fletcher said, half to himself. “And I’m actually happy about it.”

“There have been strange changes of fortune this day,” Gwen said quietly.

Laney remembered her father, injured after fighting the Shadow. “My dad!” she cried. “He’s hurt, Gwen. I have to get back to him.” And she took off, darting over the great oak tree. Below her, the nearest Thorn statue shook leaves off his body. Mr Thornbeam rubbed his forehead as his skin warmed from greenish-brown back to normal.

Leaving the park behind, she flew over Beacon
Way, where groups of Thorns were standing together and looking confused.

“Gotcha, moss-brain!” Tom Lionhart dived over them, pouring slime over their heads.

“Tom!” Laney called to him. “The Thorns were under a spell but it’s broken now.”

Tom looked disappointed. The ground rumbled as black roots turned brown and disappeared back into the earth, leaving behind a village overrun with plants and brambles. A gang of hobgobbits advanced down the road in their strange, lurching run, chased by dozens of cats and a horde of crows that dived at them, pecking their hairy bodies. A shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds, showing that the air was clear of the green specks from the valerian spell.

Laney sped up – the humans would soon be waking.

Landing in Oldwing Rise, she changed back to human form and ran home. She pulled thick vines and brambles away from the doorway just as Kim opened the door.

“Laney! Your dad’s hurt. I’ve had to call an ambulance.” Kim stared past her stepdaughter. “What on earth! What’s happened out here? It’s like a wilderness.”

Laney hurried inside. Her dad was lying still, eyes closed, the round purple lump on his forehead still
visible. His chest rose and fell as he breathed. She knelt down next to him, willing him to wake up. “We have the Wildwood Arrow,” she whispered. “The Shadow’s gone.”

Her dad didn’t stir.

“I found him lying here.” Kim’s face was pale. “I don’t know what happened or what he was doing, but he won’t wake up.”

Laney pressed her lips together. How could she tell Kim that she knew exactly what happened, that she’d seen it? She couldn’t tell half the story so it would be better to say nothing at all. She got up and hugged Kim. “I’m sure the ambulance won’t be long.”

Time passed slowly in the waiting room of Pennington Hospital. Thoughts crowded through Laney’s mind as she tried to amuse Toby with books and Lego bricks while Kim talked to a succession of doctors. The ambulance had been slow to arrive as there were still trees lying on parts of the main road. The doctors were performing tests, they were told. It could take a while.

Laney felt as if she couldn’t bear it – the long corridors that smelled of disinfectant, the
worn-out
chairs in the waiting room. She couldn’t stop picturing her dad’s still face as they’d loaded his stretcher on to the ambulance. He should never
have tried to fight the Shadow. Why couldn’t she have discovered her fire sooner and used it to help him? She furtively opened her hands. Every time she felt like crying they grew hot again. Quickly she closed them.

As the sun set, the door of the waiting room opened and Claudia and her mum came in. “Kim, I heard about Robert and the nurses said you were in here,” said Mrs Lionhart, her quick eyes taking in Kim’s tired face. “We came to have Claudia’s side looked at. She had an accident on her bike earlier.”

Claudia showed them a large bandage over her side. “It doesn’t really hurt – looks gross though.”

“Oh, dear,” said Kim vaguely.

“Laney fly girl!” said Toby, clapping two bricks together.

Laney shushed him.

“Why don’t you let us take Laney back to Skellmore with us and she can stay at our house tonight?” said Mrs Lionhart smoothly. “One less thing for you to think about.”

“That’s very kind.” Kim rubbed her neck distractedly. “Then I can take Toby over to my mum’s before I come back here to see Robert.”

“Exactly.” Mrs Lionhart nodded. “Laney, we’ll go to your house and you can pick up your things.”

Laney hugged Kim and Toby as she left. Then she followed Claudia and her mum back down the long
hospital corridor.

“Try not to worry about your dad,” said Mrs Lionhart. “We’re much quicker to heal than humans – you’ll see.”

Laney swallowed. “Thanks.”

“And by the way, don’t be shocked when we get back to Skellmore,” Claudia told her. “The place is overrun by more than plants right now.”

Laney saw what she meant as they drove up the High Street. Rows of cars and television vans were parked along the side of the road. Cameramen cursed as they tried to unload equipment from the vans, tripping over brambles and cracks in the pavement left by the retreating tree roots.

“I’ll drop you here. I’m just going to pick up some things from the shop,” Mrs Lionhart said.

Laney and Claudia climbed out, nearly bumping into a woman in a suit talking into her phone. “Careful!” She glared at them.

Claudia scowled back, then she tugged on Laney’s arm. “Flippin’ heck! Look at that! They’re going to interview the Mottles.”

Mrs Mottle and Craig stood in front of the hairdresser’s next to a serious-looking correspondent. The girls edged nearer to listen.

“And only twelve weeks since they were the centre of a devastating flood, the little village of Skellmore is in the news again,” the correspondent
said. “In a week when the rest of the country is slipping into autumn, this place has seen huge quantities of plants and flowers literally growing overnight. Residents have had to cut down foliage growing across their doors and windows, and several accidents have been caused by trees obstructing the road.” He struck a serious look for the camera.

“Locals are suggesting that this strange phenomenon may be connected to the flood. They say large quantities of fertilisers spread on farmers’ fields to help the crops may have entered the water table when those fields were flooded, and this has caused the plants to grow at extraordinary rates. With us now we have Mrs Mottle and her son Craig to explain what happened.” He turned to her. “Mrs Mottle, could you tell us what you saw when you got up this morning?”

Mrs Mottle simpered. “It was quite amazing! I said to Craig – didn’t I, Craig? – that I’d never seen anything like it. There were plants everywhere. It was very difficult just getting down my front path.” She giggled.

“I see,” said the correspondent. “Do you think it’s strange that this has only happened in Skellmore, leaving the local town unaffected?”

“Ooh, yes,” said Mrs Mottle. “This is a very ordinary village and it’s always very quiet. So it’s a
bit of excitement for us!”

“Let’s go,” groaned Claudia. “I can’t stand it.” They crossed the High Street, leaving the TV cameras behind. “Do you think people will really believe all that stuff about the fertiliser making the plants go wild? It’s such a load of dog biscuits.”

Laney shrugged. “What else are they going to believe – that an evil Shadow faerie worked an enchantment over the village? The world they know would collapse if they knew the truth.”

“I guess.” Claudia kicked a wilting clump of valerian.

“Claudia?” said Laney quietly. “Where’s the Wildwood Arrow? Is it safe?”

“Yes.” Claudia stopped to let her black cat, Dizzy, wind round her ankles. “Gwen’s taken it to Mencladden Hill, ready to put it through the stone at sunrise. She says she can protect it more easily there than in her house.” She gave her friend a sideways look.

Laney knew Claudia must be wondering about the flames in her hands and she was grateful to the other girl for not bombarding her with questions.

“You look exhausted,” Claudia said at last. “Let’s just get your stuff and then we can find something to eat. Unless you want to be interviewed on TV?”

Laney smiled. “I think I’ll skip it.”

Laney woke up while it was still dark. She was on a blow-up bed on Claudia’s floor. The Greytail house growled softly around her, making the floor tremble. She’d got used to it after a while and it had even started to feel comforting. Padding to the window, she looked out at The Cattery, the only street not overrun with plants and brambles. A full moon lit up a cloudless sky and in the park the great oak tree flushed gold as it drew in power from the faerie ring.

Claudia murmured in her sleep and curled up with her knees tucked in. Three cats slept on her bed with her: a large ginger, a tortoiseshell and Dizzy. Seeing her at the window, Dizzy raised her head to watch. Her green eyes looked eerily bright in the dark.

Gwen would be on Mencladden Hill, protecting the arrow ready for sunrise. Laney’s mind slid back to the moment when she’d seen the arrow under the Shadow’s cloak. He’d had her by the neck, and ice had spread over her skin beneath his grip. She’d hardly been able to breathe…

Her hands curled on the windowsill, growing hotter.

Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

The Shadow had made ice.

“Claudia!” She shook her friend’s shoulder and Dizzy hissed protectively.

“What?” yawned Claudia. “’S too early.”

“I’m going to Mencladden Hill now. I’ll meet you there, OK?”

“Fine. Whatever.” Claudia fell back into her murmuring sleep.

Laney tried to breathe slowly. Her heart was thumping and the little flames had appeared in her hands again. She switched to faerie form, opened Claudia’s window and glided into the moonlit night. Dozens of pairs of eyes gazed up at her as she soared over The Cattery. The cats were out in force. She flew over the High Street and skirted round the edge of Hobbin Forest. The Shadow’s hold over the arrow was broken but she still felt wary of the trees.

She had to cross Faymere Lake and then the river to reach Mencladden Hill. The full moon cast a broad silver path across the water. Usually she would have swooped low, touching her wing tips against the surface of the water, but today all she could think of was the Shadow’s grip on her throat.

She landed at the bottom of the hill, careful not to get too close to the faerie ring that lay near the riverbank. Gwen stood at the top, a faint glow around her winged figure. Towering over her was the ancient Mencladden Stone – a circle with a strange oval hole in the middle. Laney always
thought it looked like a giant cat’s eye.

“What are you doing here, Laney?” Gwen said as she reached the top. “Sunrise isn’t for several hours.”

“I’ve come to tell you: I think the Shadow is a Mist,” said Laney breathlessly. “When we were fighting, he took hold of my neck and ice spread across my skin. It must have come from his fingers. We can warn everyone – let them be on the lookout for a Mist faerie.”

“Slow down, my dear,” said Gwen. “Can you be sure that it was ice and that the Shadow made it?”

“I think so … I couldn’t see it, but it felt like ice. It all happened so fast.” Laney thought of the fight and the Shadow’s words. “And there’s something else … the Shadow said someone had a plan for me. He made it sound as if someone else was in command.”

“Someone higher than the Shadow? I had not considered that.” Gwen was silent for a minute then she smiled. “Yet so far they have not managed to keep a Myrical. We must maintain our patient, watchful attitude – things have a way of revealing themselves at the right time.”

She touched the silvery tip of the Wildwood Arrow and a pulse of magic shot along the wood to the end. “How is your father doing?”

“He’s in hospital,” Laney told her. “They think he has concussion from hitting his head.” A fresh wave
of worry rose inside her.

“Try not to be anxious,” said Gwen. “I’m sure he just needs time to recover. We are very resilient – much stronger than humans.”

“That’s what Mrs Lionhart said too.”

“Well, we Thorns and Greytails do agree on things from time to time, although it doesn’t happen very often.” Gwen’s wise amber eyes met Laney’s. “When he wakes up, I know your father will be very proud of your courage in facing the Shadow. I’m sure your mother would have been proud too, if she was here. Faerie magic is passed down from both parents, you know.”

Laney felt a jolt of surprise at the mention of her mum. “But I’m like a disaster area! My powers have gone wrong from the start.”

Gwen smiled enigmatically. “Well, your powers did seem weak at first and that’s what the Seeing Thread test indicated. But look how magic shines from you now.”

Laney glanced at her faerie skin, which glowed with a silvery radiance far brighter than it had a few weeks ago. A tiny suspicion in her mind grew bigger. “Gwen?”

But Gwen stopped her. “Ah! Here are the Thorns. We must prepare.”

Laney turned to look. A thin stretch of grey sky on the horizon was steadily growing lighter. It
wouldn’t be long till sunrise. At the bottom of the hill, dark figures moved into position, forming a ring around the base of the mound. Then slowly they climbed the hill together, stopping close to the top and circling the immense stone.

Laney pressed her hands together to hide the heat inside them. Every single one of them was a Thorn, and they stood waiting in their human form. Nobody spoke, but Laney noticed how tired they looked. Stingwood lurked at the back of the crowd, holding his arms awkwardly as if they still felt wooden. Laney looked round for Fletcher and he gave her a slight smile.

“Thorn friends, welcome!” Gwen’s voice rang out. “We await the first light of morning.”

Laney gazed at the brightening sky through the hole in the stone and had a vivid memory of putting the Crystal Mirror through that gap, to be locked away inside Time. She remembered how there had been a sudden burst of flame from the top of the stone as she’d done so, and the burn mark on her finger prickled.

Gwen lifted up the Wildwood Arrow. The circle of Thorns didn’t move. “This is the Wildwood Arrow, our Thorn Myrical,” said Gwen in a clear voice. “We are placing it in the safekeeping of the Mencladden Stone alongside the Crystal Mirror. May the spell hold until we can be free from the danger and fear
of the Shadow.” A chink of sun appeared in the east, scattering bright rays across the countryside. “From the spring buds and summer flowers, to the autumn leaves and bare winter boughs, we send this Arrow through.” And she drove the Arrow into the oval-shaped hole in the centre of the stone where it vanished completely.

A murmur ran round the group of watching Thorns. Mrs Thornbeam wiped her eyes and Mr Thornbeam coughed, while Sara stood between them holding their hands. Laney suddenly felt like she shouldn’t be watching, that she was in the middle of something private.

“Friends.” Gwen dropped her arms. “Thank you for coming here this morning. I spoke to many of you yesterday but you now know that we have a Shadow faerie in our midst. A few of you have even seen him. I will meet with the Elders of the other tribes as soon as possible to discuss the best course of action.”

“Will they all hate us now?” said a little voice, and Sara Thornbeam stepped to the front of the Thorn circle. “There are still brambles everywhere, and it was all our fault.”

“No! It was the Shadow – not you!” said Laney. “He poisoned the Arrow with his dark spell. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Some Thorns did,” Mr Thornbeam said, his
craggy eyebrows drawing downwards. “Some carried on down the wrong path even though they were warned.”

Everyone looked at Stingwood, who met their gaze fiercely. “It’s because we’re living crammed in with the other tribes and the humans –
that
is the root of the problem. But then you’ve never seen that, have you? Let’s all hold hands with the Greytails and Mists and be nice, that’s what you say. We don’t know which tribe this Shadow comes from but I’m darned sure he isn’t a Thorn.”

Laney fidgeted and Gwen gave her a silencing look. “If that’s an apology, Peter, it’s the worst one I’ve ever heard,” she said crisply. “The truth is that you found the Wildwood Arrow and didn’t tell anyone. You put us all in danger by going ahead with your project without the full approval of the tribe.”

“Then I apologise.” Stingwood leaned on his walking stick to make a mock bow. “I should have known better than to try to build Avalon for you lot.” Straightening his massive shoulders, he turned and walked away.

Mrs Thornbeam picked Sara up and smiled at Laney. “Gwen tells us that you and Claudia made the elixir potion that undid the Shadow magic. You should be proud of yourselves. No Thorn could have done better.”

“Thanks!” Laney blushed.

“This is for your father, dear.” Mr Willowby handed her a tiny cloth bag with some herbs inside. “Rosemary helps speed the healing. Just put it under his pillow.”

The Thorns began to leave in small groups, making their way back down the hill. Gwen changed out of faerie form and straightened her blue silk hat. “Claudia! You can come out now.”

Claudia appeared from behind a clump of trees and flew up to Laney, Fletcher and Gwen in a graceful glide. “I just didn’t want to interrupt all the Thorn stuff.”

“But your mum wants you to report back on whether we really did place the arrow in the safety of Mencladden. Isn’t that right?” said Gwen. “The Greytails want to be sure.”

“She did mention it.” Claudia put on a dramatic voice.
“These are dangerous times. We cannot be too careful
. That kind of thing. But I’m glad the tribes finally believe there’s a Shadow on the loose now – it’ll make things easier.”

“What about the Mists?” asked Fletcher. “Do they believe it too? Has anyone seen them?”

“We saw Jessie but she didn’t know about the Shadow,” said Laney. “My dad said he thought Frogley and the other Mists would send help to Skellmore but I don’t think they did.”

“Many of them live in Gillforth and Pyton so they may not know the truth of what happened,” said Gwen. “But several Thorns saw the Shadow this time so I hope that will overcome any doubts about the matter.”

“It is kind of strange,” said Claudia thoughtfully. “It’s almost as if the Shadow was ready to be seen.”

Laney shifted uneasily, looking at Gwen. “Can I tell them what I think?”

“Tell us what?” said Claudia, wide-eyed.

“Tell them but be sure not to share this with anyone else. As yet this is only a suspicion, and a wrongful accusation could cause immense damage to relations between the tribes. You heard what Stingwood said – already people are starting to draw their own conclusions,” Gwen said seriously. “I must go now. There’s much to be done to get Skellmore back to rights – vines to untangle and thickets to banish. I hope those wretched TV people don’t get in my way!” She hobbled steadily down the hill.

“Well, Laney?” Claudia looked like her eyes would pop. “Tell us
what
?”

“I think maybe the Shadow came from the Mist tribe. He used ice when we were fighting and how could he have done that if he wasn’t a Mist?” said Laney.

Claudia looked shocked. “A Mist! I didn’t think
any of them were that powerful. No offence!”

“It all happened fast,” said Laney, “so it’s hard to be completely sure.”

“Then we shouldn’t jump to conclusions about who he is yet.” Fletcher’s eyebrows lowered and for a moment he looked exactly like his dad. “But one day we’ll know. I want to see this monster defeated after what he did to my tribe.”

Laney hadn’t heard him talk like that before. “I think I have something else to tell you as well but …” She hesitated. “I need to be sure that I’m right first. I’ll meet you at the bridge over the river in a couple of hours.”

Fletcher looked concerned. “Do you need any help?”

“No, I’m fine,” Laney insisted. “I’ll meet you there, OK?”

“Mysterious! But you know you can’t keep a secret from us for long!” Claudia spread her wings.

“Let’s go, Miss Curiosity!” Fletcher spread his wings too, and he and Claudia flew away.

Laney walked down the empty hill, slowing as she reached the bottom. The reeds at the river’s edge moved and a duck emerged, flapping its wings. Diamond flecks danced on the water in the light of the rising sun.

Between Laney and the river lay the faerie ring with its secrets.

You can’t keep a secret from us for long
, Claudia had said.

Maybe that was true. How could anyone bear to keep a secret for a long time? But if her suspicions were right that’s exactly what her dad had been doing.

She made herself take a tiny step forwards, and another and another, until she could hear the high voices inside the faerie ring. Their song started up faintly, telling of life, death and magic, and the Otherworld beyond. She felt the familiar pulling sensation, the urge to get closer and hear more. At the same time knowing that if she took a step too close it would be the last thing she ever did.

Then she heard what she was really listening for – a voice she thought she knew. She sank to her knees. “Mum?”

The voice carried on speaking softly with no sign that it had heard her. Was it her mum? And if she spoke did sounds pass the other way through the ring? Laney leaned closer. The voice was telling a story of fire and water. She knelt there listening until the other voices grew louder, drowning out everything else with their song.