by Sarah Driver
Ettler squishes through the air, helping us search – though in heart-truth I reckon he’s still searching for Kes. Wherewherewhere? he chatters sorrowfully.
‘There!’ Sparrow shouts, jolting me. He points at the base of the mountain that the stronghold of Hackles looms on.
We press close to the mountain, cos I’m frighted that the Protector will spy us if we linger in the open. The rock is as dark on the outside as the inside, so at first I can’t see any cave at all. Then we get closer and see an opening in the rock. Outside the cave lies a tangle of animal bones and empty flagons lying on their sides. ‘It’s like – someone’s brought food here,’ shouts Yapok. ‘But why?’
Before anyone can answer, there’s a movement at the entrance and we duck out of sight behind a boulder. Two figures cloaked in red crawl out of the cave, lugging a lifeless shape under another cloak. Mystiks. How many of the ghoulish slackwits are there?
Then a shriek curdles my bones. A terrodyl dives towards them and carries the shape out of their hands, up and away into the sky. The mystiks brush off their hands and duck back inside. ‘What are they feeding to the terrodyls?’ asks Crow, turning to me with wide eyes.
‘I ent gonna think long on that,’ I reply. ‘Cos I’ve got to go in, anyway.’
Crow dips his chin into the thick wool of his scarf. ‘We’re coming with you,’ he says firmly, though Yapok looks like he wishes he didn’t have to. Ettler flaps around him, dripping ink into his hair.
‘I’ll go alone. Can you guard the entrance and keep Sparrow safe?’
Crow sighs. Then he nods reluctantly. Then he sweeps me into the tightest hug I’ve ever known, until I can barely inflate my lungs. When he lets me go, my cheeks are hot and I can’t look at anyone.
The cave has wormed a path into the roots of the mountain. I have to stoop to walk inside, and the crumbling roof scrapes the top of my head. Branches snake off the path, into dark corners and passages. I follow the footsteps of the mystiks as they echo towards the heart of the cave. I know I could get lost forever in a place like this.
I follow the snaking path until I’m forced to crawl on hands and knees. Then it opens out into a wide chamber that flickers with dull yellow light. There’s a constant low moaning and a smell of dampness and fizzling fat. I stop, then dart to the side, gluing myself to the wall, out of sight. The cave is filled with skinny, grimy folk tied to posts nailed in the ground. Most of them don’t move, and suddenly I know for certain what that bundle was that got given to the terrodyl. Sickness courses up my throat. What are they using these poor people for?
To the left-hand side of the cave, a red-cloaked figure hunches in front of a cloaked man tied to a post, pressing bony fingertips into his temples. His eyes are rolled back in his head. Spit froths in the corners of his mouth and when the wind catches his hood, hurling it back from his face, I shudder at the sight of his wind-burned scalp and hollow cheeks.
But the wind’s caught the other figure’s hood, too. The man’s yellow hair is knotted on his head and he’s got slender yellow brows and a bushy yellow beard.
His hands are curled in his lap, large and skilful despite the lengths of rope binding his wrists, and his legs are long. His clothes are slack on his body, though, and his breathing comes quick and ragged, like a new-birthed bird. His face is puffier than I remember and the skin around his eyes is crinkled and slack. His cloak and tunic are stained with dark splatters and blood has clotted in the corners of his mouth.
‘Da? ’ My breath catches on the word. My hands rush to cover my mouth before I can be stupid enough to speak again. That leech is feasting on Da’s energy! Rage needles my skin.
I sink further into the shadows as the mystiks we saw outside the cave pass by me and start murmuring.
‘Stag’s sent word he has seized control of the Marshes.’
‘Fortunate he’s so keen to do our bidding, isn’t it?’ replies a mocking voice.
My gut twists. Pike lost the battle! And Stag’s doing the mystiks’ bidding? I’d reckoned the boot was on the other foot, and they were doing his. ‘Indeed – he wants to prove himself. He’ll arrive at Hackles soon and will seem to be saving the stronghold from the mindless destruction of a tyrant. He will easily take over power. Then we can continue our hidden work.’
I pull my cloak tighter in the claw-sharp chill. Little wonder Stag always seems to know so much. I think of the mystiks at Castle Whalesbane, the ship-wrecker Weasel and the Fangtooth Chieftain who are all in league with Stag. Who knows how many other bad-blubbers might be working with him, too?
‘And the woman on the throne?’
‘We are still maintaining control using the current warm-blood – though his life-spirit fights the leeching, his energy is potent enough for us to possess her while Stag strikes, and beyond.’
I remember the trapped spirit that tried to steal my body, that hollow-eyed face that’s been haunting me, and almost jump out of my skin as I begin to understand. The Protector is locked out – she’s been possessed by these mystiks!
My mind wheels faster and faster as I listen. This rotting at Hackles isn’t the Protector’s fault. I need to get to her. If I can free her from this gruesomeness, maybe she can help my da in return. I’d better do it quick, though, cos each beat that passes might be bringing Stag closer to Hackles.
I start to back away, on my hands and knees. I let the murk suck me into its folds. I won’t look back at Da – I only want to see him when he’s free and safe again.
Outside, I scramble upright and gape at my friends, hardly knowing where to start. Crow puts his hands on my shoulders. ‘Calm down, and tell us.’
‘Where’s Thaw?’ I ask, casting around for my hawk.
‘She must’ve gone off to hunt,’ says Crow impatiently. ‘Come on!’
I gabble it all so fast I ent heart-certain they’ve understood. But Sparrow starts to cry when I finish.
Yapok clutches fistfuls of his hair.
Crow whistles.
‘I reckon that if I go into a dream-dance, maybe I can find the Protector’s spirit and pull her back to herself, breaking the possession,’ I say.
‘Sounds like a good enough place to start,’ says Crow.
‘Crow – can you and Sparrow stay close to Da and help him when I’ve freed her?’
He nods.
‘What can I do?’ asks Yapok.
‘Keep watch, and make sure none of you are spotted.’
‘Wait,’ says Crow. ‘Can’t you dream-dance from here? It’s too dangerous to sneak in to the fortress!’
I shake my head. ‘The Protector’s spirit tried to possess me last time I was here. My body is bait. I have to get into the same room as her.’
I climb through the snow towards the stronghold and pause below the courtyard, listening. The mountain is deserted, and an eerie wind whistles past the long-hall and swoops over my head.
‘Mouse, there’s an avalanche brewing – you might get stuck inside!’ calls Yapok. I whip round to face him, Crow and Sparrow.
‘I thought you were all waiting at the caves!’
‘We ain’t letting you go up there alone,’ says Crow, eyes blazing.
‘All right, but I have to go in!’ I tell them. ‘I’ll be arrow-swift, just – look after Sparrow!’ I swallow. ‘And if I don’t come out, find another way to free my da?’
Without waiting for an answer, I turn and scurry up the steepest part of the mountain, lungs wheezing in the thin air. The endless storm-barrier rages high above, snatching clumps of my hair and trying to rip it from my scalp. I reach the entrance to the draggle cave and the others catch up. ‘I’ll go in through here and climb up!’
Crow shakes his head. ‘Remember the trapdoor!’ he yells in my ear. ‘You can’t climb up!’
I wrack my brains, frustration snaking through me. Every beat wasted is another beat that Da’s in danger. Then I spot a thin path upwards through the mountain, towards the fortress at the top. It looks like a place
where mountain goats have trodden to reach the toughest plants for grazing.
‘Please,’ I beg the others. ‘Don’t follow me up there. I need you to stay here with Sparrow, and be ready to help Da.’
Crow never agrees to let me go alone, but he forces himself not to follow.
I climb until my arms and legs are numb and I feel like the storm’s gonna snatch me off the mountain. Every time I have to stop and rest, I struggle to move again. Then, finally, the grazing path leads me to a tiny gap below the storm-barrier – is that how the sky-wolves breached? I slip through and climb down to the courtyard. Then I stare around warily. The wind drags frozen fingers along my spine.
I duck behind rocks and peer out, clutching my longbow, and gasping for breath. Inside the courtyard stand soldiers with walrus-hide coats and mail forged from bloodied merwraith scales.
There’s no clear route to the long-hall so I edge around the settlement, crouching behind the armoury and drifts of snow, until I reach another door in the mountain. I hurry over to it and creep inside. The passageway is empty, so I seize my chance.
I sprint along it, bearing in the direction of the long-hall. Suddenly the passageway ends and I reach a platform of rock at the back of the fortress and teeter there, putting out my hands to stop myself plunging over the edge. Just in front of the platform is a door, coloured dark blue and patterned with golden stars.
I’m behind the Star Door.
I stretch forwards, grab the edge, and it swings outwards. I clutch the inside handle as the wind catches the door and I’m swung out over a void far below the fortress. I kick my legs and swing the door back towards the long-hall with all my might, then leap off and land on the platform where the thrones stand.
The cauldrons are empty and the hall is cold. A sickly, wasted creature sits curled tight on the throne. She startles when I step closer, turns to face me and snarls, dripping spit down her chin.
Suddenly, a pair of spears are crossed over my chest and Lunda and Pangolin stare down at me. ‘You again!’ hisses Lunda, face weary and smudged.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask.
‘You don’t get to ask questions,’ she says. Then she glances around fearfully, eyes shining with tears.
‘I think I can help you all,’ I hiss. ‘None of this is right. She—’ I point at the Protector’s wizened form. ‘That ent her in there.’
Lunda splutters an outraged laugh. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘She’s being controlled. You’ve got enemies closer than you think.’
‘You’re right there, sea-creeper.’ Lunda bares her teeth at me.
I shake my head. ‘Wait – I’m going to try and free her!’
Lunda laughs but Pangolin utters a groan. ‘Stop, Lunda! What have we to lose?’ she asks. She lifts her spear off my chest and points it at Lunda, who gasps. Suddenly I realise how much taller Pangolin is than either of us.
‘Pang, think about what you’re doing!’ shouts Lunda. ‘The soldiers forbade anyone to enter!’
‘I am sick of everything about this place!’ snaps Pangolin. ‘Including you. We let the girl pass.’ She holds Lunda back.
I stare at Pangolin in amazement for a heartbeat. Then I stumble forwards. Lunda spits and curses.
I step closer to the throne. The Protector swivels her half-closed eyes onto my face. I stop next to the throne and stare at her.
Her mouth falls open. ‘Get down from here, wretch,’ throbs her vicious croak.
Ignoring her, I lie down on the platform. The Protector stares down at me. ‘Guards!’ But Pangolin don’t take her spear-tip from Lunda’s throat. I think about the spirit that tried to claim my body in my cell and know that I have to dream-dance without a binding if I’m gonna coax her near.
My fury for Kes and what’s being done to our kin pushes my spirit against my skin and I rise into the air. Where are you? I know you! The Opals buzz in my pocket, clicking together. I look down at my own slumped body and the Protector of the Mountain on her draggle throne.
‘Protector of the Mountain!’ I call, mouth dream-dance clumsy. ‘Where are you? I know you’re locked out! I can help you!’
Suddenly, behind the throne flits the trapped spirit. It sees me, and its face stretches wide with gut-clawing yearning.
‘You!’ I float closer to her, even though dread shivers through me the further I get from my body.
The spirit don’t look at me. Instead, it dives for my body. ‘Warm-blood!’
I spin and catch its ankle. ‘Wait!’ I call. ‘I know what’s happening to you! I know you! You have a daughter called Kestrel, don’t you?’
The spirit stops pulling against me and spins around. Its mouth starts to form clumsy words. ‘Kestrel?’ She cocks her head. ‘Yes. My darling little girl. She hurt herself so badly. It was all my fault.’
‘That was long ago. Time’s been thieved from you. You’ve been shut out of your own skin. I can help you get back in!’
She looks at me then, like she’s seeing me for the first time. ‘Can you see me?’
‘Aye,’ I tell her. ‘That’s your body, ent it? You’re stuck outside of it.’ I flick my dream-fingers towards the creature on the throne.
She nods, terrified, blurring apart at the edges and buzzing back together again as I watch. ‘I don’t know how long I’ve been stuck out here. I was only dancing for a moment.’ She shivers, and rubs her arms like she’s cold.
‘What can we do?’ I ask. ‘Can we force the spirit out of your body, so you can get back in?’
She presses her fingers to her mouth. ‘I don’t know.’ She begins to sob.
I drop lower in the air and flit towards the thing on the throne, peering into its sunken face. Now that I’m in the shadow world I can see the gritty outline of the mystik’s face within the slack shell of the Protector’s skin. ‘I know all about you,’ I rasp, making my voice as mean as it can go.
‘Stay back!’ it screams. ‘Lunda!’
I move closer. ‘You ent who you say you are!’ I roar. ‘You thieved someone’s body!’ And now her daughter’s dead and she weren’t there. I believe in my heart-strength again. I know my love for Kestrel has gifted me the strength of a hundred full-growns. Suddenly I yelp, and my glance flits to my body on the floor. The Opals are shining through the cloth of my breeches. When I look down at my spirit, the same light is dancing on my leg in the dream-world.
A foam of Sea and a fragment of Sky. As I think it, green light touches my back with the strength of a wave and shoves my fingers through the false-Protector’s skin. The blue light gifts me the strength of a hawk’s wings and talons, making me stronger than the creature’s hate as I search for a thread of its spirit, then pull the spirit all the way out of the Protector’s body, quiver-flickering with the effort. In my bones I know that this might kill me. But it’s for Kestrel, and I have to do it.
The mystik’s gnarled, pock-marked spirit pings free and flicks towards my body. It’s like a storm-wrecked tree stump, barren, full of rotten pits. It tries to slither down my throat but the Protector’s spirit rushes over and pulls it back, screaming sudden fury. I jump back into my body as the other two fight, clamping my mouth tightly shut. I watch in the in-between world as the true Protector spirals towards her body, chased by the mystik’s spirit. I open my eyes. My head throbs and my bones ache, as I fight to pull my mind back from the dream-dance.
The Protector of the Mountain is slumped at the foot of her throne, motionless, blood trickling from a cut on her forehead. The struggle between the spirits must’ve made her fall. ‘Remember who you are!’ I shout, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. ‘You are the Protector of the Mountain!’
I remember Kestrel stitching my wound, her chatter keeping my spirit from slinking into the dream-world for ever, and I lift my head and howl my sorrows for her and her ma into the sky.
A silvery slip brushes past me – I can almost see its face as it rushes up towards the throne. I flinch, remembering when she
tried to get into my sleeping body, but then she’s already slipping into the Protector’s slumped form – she takes a huge, ragged breath, wakes up and climbs unsteadily to her feet.
Lunda breaks away from Pangolin, thunders towards me and grabs my arm. ‘What did you do? ’
Pangolin steps between us. ‘She brought our Protector home.’ Out on the mountain, there’s a twisted scream, inhumanly loud. It muffles her words. She jumps, sucking in her breath. ‘What was that?’
‘P – Protector?’ asks Lunda, shoving past me towards the platform.
I stagger away from them and burst from the long-hall. I scuttle over the courtyard, squeeze through the breach and clamber back down to the cave. ‘Da!’
Then there’s a shrill cry that echoes off the rocks. Thaw-Wielder bolts proudly across the snowy sky, leading a blizzard of streaking sea-hawks in her wake. I’d know them anywhere. They’re the sea-hawks I freed from the Huntress, so long ago. My heart thuds into my mouth.
They drop lower and begin to swoop a wide circle around the cave mouth.
Yapok and Sparrow are hiding outside the cave. ‘Where’s Crow?’ I pant.
‘Inside,’ says Yapok. There’s a smear of blood on his cheek. ‘With Egret and Pika. The mystiks tried to climb to the stronghold but we held them off and they fled. Now we’re trying to move the prisoners out, but most of them are already dead.’
Inside the cave, Egret and Pika are helping survivors to their feet.
Crow stares down at the mystik that was feasting on Da’s spirit to keep possession of the Protector. The mystik’s body has buckled and lies bent over at an odd angle on the cave floor. Crow prods the mystik with the toe of his boot, but he don’t stir.
Da sits opposite him, cheeks hollow and lips tinged with blue. He’s slumped to one side. I drop to my knees by him, a sob wrenching my chest. ‘Is he alive?’ Horror stops me from touching him.
‘Aye,’ says Crow, dropping into a crouch by my side. ‘Look at his chest – see it moving?’ He gently saws away the ropes on Da’s wrists.