by Piers Torday
*Now come on!* she is saying. *It can’t be that hard to bring down another helicopter! Get your act together, starlings! For the sake of the dark wild … honestly … he never said it would be this hard, did he?*
*Starling!* I call up.
Wolf is nipping my hand. *Don’t draw attention to us, Wildness! That’s the bird that tried to attack us!* I glance at him, and he deepens his voice. *I mean … just let that foolish little bird come near me again and I will show her my true strength.*
*Starling!* I call again. *I thought I was your enemy.*
The bird is looking about her in the air.
*Down here! The human enemy your Wildness seeks is down here!*
Then the bird is plummeting down towards us, leaving her flock to crowd round the helicopters above. Seeing the stag and the wolf, she halts halfway to perch on the crane lamp swinging gently above our heads.
*Now listen here, you can’t just go shouting at me like that, I’m doing very important work for the dark wild here … I was specially charged by our Wildness himself, you know –*
And then she sees me.
*You! Why of all the nerve – you think you can order me about? I ought to peck your eyes out here and now for everything you’ve done. We’ve bought down one of your metal birds, you know. You want to watch it.*
I shake my head, and can see she looks flustered.
*Why waste your time with those stupid machines, Starling? When you’ve got the prize your Wildness wants the most right here? Think how pleased he would be if you brought him three traitors like us?*
*Oh, I don’t know … He gave us very strict orders to stop the metal birds in the sky … It’s very important for his plans, you see.*
*And stopping us isn’t?*
*Well, he didn’t ask me specifically to do that …*
*Just think of the praise you would receive. He might even let you speak from the white rock.*
Now the starling is embarrassed, folding her wing over her face.
*Me, speak from the white rock? Oh, I couldn’t possibly … I’d hate that.* She twitches on the crane lamp, hopping from foot to foot, pecking at her plumage.
We wait in silence for a moment. I try not to catch the stag’s eye. *Oh well,* I say, *don’t worry. We’ll try and find him ourselves then.* And we start to head down the gangplank.
A shimmering bullet of blue and green intercepts us, standing proudly on the shore ahead of us.
*Stop! Don’t go without me!* She looks twitchily from side to side. *I mean, you’ll never find the Great Stone Trees by yourself.*
I stop. I look down at her. I look at the building materials on our barge. I think of what the dream foretold. And I realize. The answer was staring me in the face from the start.
‘Might these be nine white stone trees standing in a fish-road?* I ask her.
For the first time, she looks terrified. *Never you mind. I never said that! I’ll lead you there, I’ll take you to the Dark Wildness. You’ll never get near him alive otherwise.*
She’s right. We don’t have a choice.
*Thank you, bird,* says the stag, but he can’t hide the stiffness in his voice at the idea of a Dark Wildness.
*Just one thing,* says the starling, still blocking our path. *When we get there – you will say that you’re my prisoners, won’t you?*
The stag gives a long sigh, and the bird leads us back on to the river road that leads to only one place.
The Amsguard.
We follow the starling away from the barge and along the riverbank, me riding the stag, the wolf-cub padding alongside us, as the rain continues to fall.
It doesn’t just fall, it pours. The stag’s fur is oily and drenched; I squeeze him as tight as I can with my knees to stop myself falling off. He has to watch his step as the bird guides us along a road ridden with potholes underneath the muddy puddles.
The water rolls down into our eyes too fast to wipe or blink away.
If this is the storm of storms, it doesn’t stop the starling talking as she dances ahead of us in the sky, runs along the ground, or hops along a wall. The rain slicks off her glossy wings, their spotted green and purple feathers brighter than ever before.
*Look over there!* she squawks, as we hear a crazy barking from behind a fence. Squinting over the top through the rain, I can see houses and lawns, with cars parked in the drives.
Lawns and drives covered with the wild dogs I saw in the Underearth. They press their paws against the doors and windows, climbing over the cars. The lights in the houses have gone out, but I can see glimpses of pale faces behind the glass.
*Keeping the humans trapped in their tall-homes they are!* the bird chirrups. *The old moon has gone, the world is in darkness and the storm of storms begins. Soon the great wet will flood over all things and we can start again.’
The sky’s tears filled the great wet
And those waters spilled out over the earth …
*How will the great wet cover all things, clever Starling?* I ask her. I thought the Amsguard was meant to keep the sea out, not let it in.
*That’s for me to know and you to wonder. Now stop asking questions or I’ll summon those dogs over here.*
*Let them try,* growls the wolf-cub.
The starling glares at him.
*I’m sure he didn’t mean that, Starling,* I say quickly. *We know how powerful you are.*
*Ha!* she says, then fluffs up her feathers and flaps off down the road, in between the crumbling ramparts of an old shopping plaza.
*Wildness, I do not trust this bird,* grumbles the cockroach from my shoulder, the rain splashing off his armoured shell.
*Don’t worry about her, General,* I say. *She’s just a stupid bossyboots who will do whatever we say as long as we keep telling her how clever and brave she is.*
*I’m not so sure. Cockroaches do not have a good history with starlings,* he says. *So I disagree. I think we should go another way.*
The starling is pecking at the big cracked tiles of the plaza floor. All around us are boarded-up shop windows and shutters sprayed with graffiti.
A bench lies on its side, and soggy piles of rubbish gather in the corners and doorways of the square. For a moment I think I see another animal hurrying across the plaza, but it’s just a black plastic bag blown by the wind.
*Come on, come on!* chides the starling. *Our Wildness won’t wait, you know!*
A shiver runs down my spine at the mention of him. But it only makes me more determined. *We have to find the dog, General, and stop this. The starling is our only way.*
At first the General doesn’t reply. Then, as the stag clops after the bird across the plaza and past the fountain, he blurts out –
*You think you know everything, young Wildness! You are the hero now, are you? Too mighty and great to listen to your brave comrade. Have you forgotten who it was who first found you, who first rescued you from your prison? Who helped you escape from the Underearth, who summoned the rest of your wild to help you now? It wasn’t that wretched bird, for sure.*
He marches down my arm to go and sit on the stag’s horns, facing away from me.
*General, I’m sorry if I—*
*No!* he says. *What’s done is done. No apologies required. But I shall not be responsible for the consequences.*
I don’t know what to say to that, so we ride on from the plaza into an old market, one that must have been abandoned a long time before the dark wild gathered their forces. Lopsided stalls and faded trailers stand empty under a glass dome. The rain hammers down above us.
I’m worried that we’re moving away from the river, where the cub last spotted the dog and his guardians.
*Can you smell the dog, Wolf-cub? Your pack?*
He sniffs the ground but shakes his head.
*There are no tracks that I recognize here.*
Perhaps the General was right.
*Starling! Where are you leading us?*
*I am taking you to face the Wildness of the
Dark Wild himself, as requested.* She lands on the tip of the stag’s horns, making the General creep away into the safety of my pocket, and looks down her beak at me. *Would you rather I led you into the heart of the human tall-homes across the fish-road? With the foxes and the snakes, and the wasps? Would you like that? I’ll wait here, shall I, till you’ve made your mind up?*
She darts off on to a stall laden with dusty sweet jars, and jabs her beak under her wing, plucking out stray feathers.
Through the rain cascading on to the dome above, the noise of the chaos in the city across the river can still be heard. Every other sound is a shout or a bang.
*OK, Starling!* I wave my hand at her. *Whichever way you want to take us, but hurry!*
The stag stops in surprise. *Did you not listen to the cockroach?* he asked.
*There’s no time – can’t you hear what I hear, Stag? If I took everyone’s advice every time they gave it we’d never go anywhere.*
He doesn’t reply, but trudges on in between the stalls.
*Smart boy!* says the bird, and spirals off the sweet stall, leading us out of the market square and into a narrow arcade. What daylight had been seeping in through the dome barely reaches here. I can just make out ripped sale signs on the gloomy windows, mannequins lying on their sides, the odd empty rail in the shadows behind.
*Bird?* I say. *Are you there?*
Her voice comes back, echoing against the shopfronts.
*Yes, yes. This will be the quickest and safest way. Their walk-upons outside are blocked with destroyed machines and animals you would not like to meet.*
And she flies on, just a flash of light in the shadows.
The stag takes a few further steps, until the grey glare of the stormy afternoon outside has faded away completely. The only light comes from my watch. I shiver, thinking of my time in the Underearth. We have to remember that we’re not underground; open streets are just beyond these walls.
Then, as the stag walks on, now in virtual darkness, something brushes my face. Something grey and sticky. I flick it away, only to get more on my hands and arms, and then I can see the same stuff is plastered across the stag’s horns –
The wolf growls, snapping at the thick mesh he is entangled in –
The stag stops, quivering. There is a scuttling above us, to the right of us, and on the left of us –
Noise like knitting needles moving across the floor. Down the walls.
And along the strands of the giant web we are caught in.
*Starling?* I say, but I know she has already long gone.
Shaking, I fumble for my watch and turn on its light. To see eyes blinking at me. Not just one pair of eyes, but hundreds. Glinting bunches of them, hanging from the ceiling, dangling down from every doorway, just as many of them as I saw in the Underearth.
Spiders.
I never thought I would be best friends with a cockroach. I’ve made friends with a rat, and I’ve even let myself be helped by moths and snakes.
But despite everything I now know about animals and varmints, there is one kind I still really, really don’t like – even if one did speak to me at Spectrum Hall.
Spiders.
And now we are alone in the dark, surrounded by hundreds of them.
The stag makes a hoarse barking sound and tries to back up the way we came, wrapping us further in the sticky string of their web. They are already starting to climb up him with their spindly hairy legs, quicker than he can shake them off.
I have to stay calm, shining my watch into the black. *Spiders, what do you want? We are looking for your Wildness. We seek an end to all this.*
Shrieking laughter echoes back at me from the darkness.
A spider who looks more like a giant black hand without an arm attached feels his way across the floor.
I didn’t know spiders like that existed. *How are you so big?*
The spider’s eyes light up with excitement. *So many yearss in the dark tunnelss, waiting for our chansse. As thee world above grew hotter, we grew bigger, feeding off your peenk food.*
*We mean you no harm. Will you let us pass?*
*That traitor ss-tag still ha-ss not told you, ha-ss hee?* Black Spider says in his high and screechy voice. A chirruping, wet noise that makes my head hurt. *Thee only po-sss-ible end to thee-ss ee-ss thee end of your life and those of thee traitor-ss weeth you.*
I don’t understand. What has the stag not told me?
*Why?*
*Ree-venge!*
Black Spider’s reply is repeated a thousand times, from a thousand different spider minds around me, clinging to the shop windows and walls, dangling from the ceiling above.
*But I am different from other humans. I want to help you all. If I can speak to your Wildness –*
This time there is no laughter, but hate bounces back at me. Spittle-filled, web-spinning, pincer-flexing hate. *All human-ss are thee ss-ame! You have all alwayss hated us! You squash uss, you flush uss, you sspray uss …*
I suppose he might have a point there. *But what about these other animals? They have done you no harm.*
There is no reply, just the skittering of jointed legs across the ground. Wolf-Cub picks up a few with his teeth and spits them out, growling, but they keep coming, clambering over his back and tail faster than he can move, spinning and wrapping him in their web all the time.
*Starling! Call these creatures off! You’ve made your point.*
If she is there, or listening, she has gone very quiet.
Now the stag is bucking and stamping, to try and shake off the spiders who are nipping his shins and crawling up his fur to get to me. They drop from the ceiling straight on to his back, in my hair, spinning white web around and around my head.
I jump off and into the middle of the spiders, swinging my watch light round. It is the only thing that makes them retreat for a second, although who knows how long the battery will last.
The spiders are tightening the noose around us, a noose of web that is getting stronger and thicker all the time. The wolf-cub is fierce and the stag is large, but they are so many, spinning and nipping, every way we turn, when I hear a voice from my shoulder.
*I did warn you, did I not?* says the General. *I did tell you I would not be responsible for the consequences, did I not?*
*Yes, but—*
*Very well then.* He buzzes off my shoulder and into the one spare piece of ground between us and the spiders.
*General, what are you doing?*
But he just clicks away, antennae held high. *Showing you what sometimes has to be done, my boy.*
And he scuttles straight up to their evil-eyed leader, swaying high on his angle-jointed legs at the front of the mob, and nips him in the stomach so that the spider squeals and draws back with rage.
*What do you thee-nk you’re doing, you ss-tupid leettle bug?* Black Spider prods him with his legs, throat clicking. *I have never ss-een one of your kind so large. A delicassy to be ssavoured.*
But rather than retreat back to us, the General rears up on his back legs, his antennae feeling the air and waving at the spiders. *Don’t make me laugh, Hairy. You lot repulse me. In all my days of war, I have never met so pathetic and useless an enemy. You think that your webs and jaws frighten the General of all the cockroaches?*
The spider leaps for him with an angry shriek, but the General flutters out of the way with his wings and is clinging to the dusty glass door of an empty shop. *You’re too fat to be a warrior,* he calls down.
*See-ize him!* shrieks the spider, and the tide of legs and hair begins to surge up the door towards him. The cockroach spreads his striped wings and soars over them to the other side of the arcade.
*Idiot arachnids!* he jeers. But this time he doesn’t land cleanly and gets caught in a large web, shaking himself free just in time. *You’ll have to do better than that,* he says to the frustrated spider, whisking higher up the wall.
The stag, wolf-cub and I can’t take our eyes off him. As the spiders hound h
im further into their midst, as he hops now from the back of one to another, the orange of his shell just visible in amidst their quivering backs he turns to us and roars –
*What are you waiting for, you fools?*
*But, General, we can’t—*
*I said, what are you waiting for?*
Then he darts away again, just escaping the clutches of a spider spinning right down on top of him.
And I begin to understand. What he meant by consequences. The insects around us are pulling back, joining the hunt for the cockroach, squealing with fury.
*We have to go,* I whisper to the others, pulling as many strings of web off them as I can. *Now.*
Slowly, as quietly as we can, we begin to back out of the arcade towards the deserted market and the plaza. The General bounces and hops between the spiders, every single one of which is determined to be the first to catch him.
*Meee!*
*No! Let meee!*
*Out of my way, I ss-aw heem firsst!*
Our brave cockroach almost seems to be enjoying the chase. But his voice is fading. *Useless creatures … There we go … Not quite, you rascal!*
The stag and the wolf-cub are in the grey light under the dome now. *Come,* says the stag. *Don’t watch.*
There is still time. They are safe now, at least. I leave them halfway out of the arcade, hovering on the edge of light and darkness, and step back in. Squinting, I can just make out a glimpse of orange shell.
The spiders have stopped chasing the General. They don’t need to any more. He has collapsed, exhausted, on the ground, not even able to crawl properly. They are closing in on him.
I feel my way towards them down the empty passage as quietly as I can …
The General makes one final effort, and struggles to rear up on his tiny back legs, tottering. *Goodness,* he says, sniffing the air around him, which is pulsating with quivering abdomens and oozing jaws. *There’s nearly enough of you brutes to form a half-decent army. What a shame it’s not going to be mine.*
And he leaps for their giant leader –
As I lunge uselessly forward, a silent scream frozen in my head –
The spiders of the dark wild bury the last General of the cockroaches, piling him under blackness after blackness, until he is lost from sight.