by Cavan Scott
It was the leaves themselves. They were glittering like stars.
She rolled over onto her back. The bark on the tree trunks was deep dark red. Too deep. Too dark. Each knot in the wood was like a whirlpool, spiralling and yet still at the same time. Fungus crawled all over the trees, literally crawled, moving across the ridiculously red bark like giant ridged caterpillars.
And the flowers. They clustered around the roots of the trees, every colour of the rainbow, and a few she had never seen before. Vivid, stunning colours that made her eyes ache. But that was nothing compared to the smell. She could never understand why people insisted on sniffing flowers. They’d always made her sneeze, full of sweet, saccharine perfume. Here it was worse. It stuck to the back of her throat, thick and cloying. She was going to be sick. She turned over, trying to push herself up on her knees. Her head went into a spin, the sounds of the forest coming from all angles. She could hear everything at once: bugs crawling in the pungent earth beneath her fingers, birds flying through the air, each beat of their wings like thunder, a heart beating like a drum.
No, not one heart. Two. Beating together.
‘Here,’ said a commanding voice. ‘Put these on.’
Something slipped over her eyes. Plastic, cool against her skin. She opened her eyes again, but this time they didn’t burn. The sounds of the forest retreated, becoming muted, easier to stand.
‘Better?’
Schofield looked up to see the Doctor standing over her, his hand reaching down. She took it, and rose unsteadily to her feet. Her ears popped and she went to pull off the sunglasses he’d slipped onto her nose.
‘No, don’t take them off,’ he said quickly, ‘or we’ll be treated to more of the retching and the screaming.’
She’d been screaming?
‘They’re mine, but you can borrow them. You’re very lucky. Not everyone gets to wear the sonic sunglasses. They’re special, just like me.’
‘Special how?’
‘They’re adjusting your vision,’ he told her, ‘dimming things down so the world isn’t so glary. And while they’re at it, they’re also projecting a sonic cone around you, filtering out the noise. You can thank me later.’
‘Sonic sunglasses,’ she repeated, trying to make sense of the words.
‘Oh, I love a bit of sonic,’ he said, grinning. ‘Sonic glasses. Sonic screwdriver.’ He patted his pockets, his smile faltering. ‘Looks like I’ll have to get another one of those. Never mind.’ He looked around himself, bending back at the hips to gaze up at the trees. ‘Even had sonic lipstick once, although it wasn’t really my shade. Gave it to a friend.’
‘You have friends?’
He glanced back at her, the grin wider than ever. ‘Someone’s feeling better.’
‘Where are we?’
The Doctor jabbed a finger at her. ‘And that’s why I like you, PC Schofield. Straight to the point. Just like me.’ He stepped forward, gesticulating as he explained, like a teacher. ‘We’ve jumped a groove. We’re in the Invisible.’
‘And that is?’
‘Fairy land.’
She snorted.
He looked confused. ‘Why are you laughing?’
‘Because that’s impossible.’
‘Not impossible, the Invisible. I told you about it, back in Mr Marter’s house.’
‘I didn’t believe you then, and I don’t believe you now.’
‘Even when you’re standing in the middle of it.’ He made an expansive gesture with his hands. ‘What do you think all this is? Disney World?’
‘I don’t know. But, fairies? Really? The little people?’
The Doctor gave a disapproving look. ‘Don’t say that. Really. For both our sakes.’
‘Why? What’s going to happen?’
‘I get it,’ he said. ‘When you think fairies, you think acorn hats, stardust and little gossamer wings. You can blame the Victorians for all that.’
‘What should I think, then?’
‘Your worst nightmare, wrapped up in insanity with a bow of utter terror.’
This was stupid. ‘I don’t believe in fairies.’
He shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter, because fairies believe in you, and we’re in their back garden now, not the other way around.’
Something flapped overhead, a sudden buzz of wings. Schofield jumped, looking up, but there was nothing there.
The truth of the matter was that she didn’t want to believe what the Doctor was telling her, because that would be one step closer to accepting what had happened to her, that she really had slipped into another world.
‘So what about you?’ she asked, turning on the Doctor.
‘What about me?’
She tapped the glasses. ‘How come you don’t need these?’
‘The forest only affects humans that way.’
‘Meaning?’
‘I think you know what I mean.’
‘You’re a troll.’
He looked appalled. ‘I’m a Time Lord.’
‘And that is?’
‘Better than a troll.’ He caught himself, looking embarrassed, before backtracking. ‘Not better, but different.’
‘Definitely different,’ she agreed, crouching down to examine a crop of fluorescent mushrooms that had bloomed near her feet.
‘Don’t touch them,’ the Doctor advised.
‘I’m not going to. I’m not stup—’
She jumped back up as the cap of each mushroom opened to reveal an eye that peered at her.
‘I really don’t like it here,’ she admitted.
‘For good reason,’ the Doctor told her, stepping closer and dropping his voice. ‘Don’t look now, but I think we’re being watched.’
‘I know,’ she said, pointing down at the eyes on stalks.
‘Not them,’ he hissed, pointing over her shoulder.
She turned, seeing nothing but trees.
‘I can’t see anything?’
‘That’ll be the sonic sunglasses. Here, allow me.’ He tapped their frame and the world became brighter, not enough to cause her pain, but definitely enough to see the three pairs of eyes that glared balefully from between the tree trunks.
‘Still don’t believe in fairies?’ he asked.
There was a growl, deep and guttural.
She could make out their faces now. Hooked noses, wide mouths, brimming with jagged teeth. Their skin was mottled, the colour of mouldy cheese, their hair hanging in long braids. They were tall, they were rangy, and they looked angry.
‘Why don’t they attack?’ she asked.
‘They’re working out if they want to play with their food first.’
‘That’s comforting.’
‘Wasn’t meant to be. When I say run …’
‘I’ll be right behind you.’
‘One,’ the Doctor said, as the first of the creatures took a step forward, its clawed hand resting on the nearest tree trunk.
‘Two?’ Schofield suggested, as its nostrils flared.
‘Three!’ the Doctor shouted, as the creatures burst forward, ready to tear them limb from limb.
Chapter 22
Safe Together
Bill glanced at her watch as they traipsed through Boggle Wood. It was half two in the afternoon. The sun wouldn’t be going down for another couple of hours, but already the sky was growing dim, thick grey clouds smothering the weak autumn sun.
She didn’t know which was worse: exploring a spooky wood in the dead of night, or retracing their steps in this strange half-light. It was eerily quiet. No bird sang in the tall barren trees, no dogs walked their owners along the twisting leaf-covered paths.
Masie stomped ahead, kicking up leaves.
‘Not too far, eh?’
The girl didn’t stop. She’d been in a grump ever since the Doctor had despatched them on their impromptu nature trail. It was hardly surprising. Her world had been turned upside down; Bill could understand that.
She’d only been a baby when her own mum was taken
away from her. She’d never known her, the only memories the ones she’d made up. She hadn’t even known what she looked like, not really. There hadn’t been any photos, until the Doctor changed all that, heading back into the past, armed with a total disregard for the laws of time and a SLR camera. The box full of photos now sat beside Bill’s bed, back in Bristol. Her most precious possession.
She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have your mum with you every day for ten years and then have her snatched away. How much that would hurt.
Not only had that happened to Masie, she’d also had to cope with a sudden induction into the Doctor’s world, with everything that went with it. The monsters. The terror. The realisation that the universe is bigger than you ever imagined.
All things considered, Masie was doing brilliantly. Yes, there was the permanent scowl and the bucketful of snark, but that was just a survival mechanism.
If only Noah could understand. He’d faced his sister’s wrath almost as soon as they’d left the Doctor on Bugs Close.
‘I thought you were supposed to be the expert.’
‘Of what?’
‘Of leaves and stuff.’
‘I never said—’
‘You said you were top of the class. You said you got a sticker from Mr Weenink.’
‘I did my best.’
‘Shame your best didn’t know the difference between an oak and a Rohan tree.’
A rowan,’ Bill had corrected, immediately regretting the decision. Yeah, way to go. Like the kid needed to feel any more alienated.
‘You thought it was an oak too,’ Noah had snapped, not mature enough to let the argument drop. ‘You didn’t know.’
‘I never said I did.’
‘Yes you did!’
Masie had huffed. Maybe she knew when she was beaten. Maybe she just didn’t want to argue any more. ‘Just shut up, Noah,’ she growled.
But it had gone too far. Her brother wasn’t having that. ‘No, you shut up. You always think you’re right, but you’re not.’
Bill had tried to play peacekeeper. ‘Hey, hey, hey. There’s no need—’
‘It’s not fair,’ Noah continued, shouting over her. ‘I’m going to—’
‘Do what?’ Masie said, whirling around. ‘Tell Mum? Good luck with that. She’s gone and it’s your fault.’
The sheer venom in the 10-year-old’s voice had stopped both Bill and Noah in their tracks.
‘Masie …’ Bill began, but the girl’s tirade had only just begun.
‘If it wasn’t for you and your stupid Shining Man story, she wouldn’t have gone out.’
‘It wasn’t a story!’ he bawled back. ‘It really happened!’
‘Maybe she wasn’t taken by a Shining Man at all! Maybe she just wanted to get away from you and your stupid whining!’
‘That’s enough!’ The severity in Bill’s voice had surprised even her. Hark at me, sounding like a grown up. Being around the Doctor must be rubbing off. Who was she kidding? The Doctor was the most childish grown-up she’d ever met. Still, it worked. Masie shut up, dropping into a super sulk.
Noah’s face had creased up. She’d seen the boy cry plenty of times over the last 24 hours, but this was different. This was sorrow beyond tears. This was heartache.
‘Hey,’ she’d said, dropping down to pull him into a hug. ‘This is no good. Any of it. We need to pull together. We’re a team.’
Masie had snorted. ‘Is that why the Doctor sent us away?’
‘He didn’t. He gave us a job.’
‘To find a stupid tree. What good will it do, anyway? Why does he always think he knows best?’
‘Because he does, most of the time. Anyway, this isn’t about him. It’s about you; you and your brother. You’re both angry and scared, I get that, really I do. But taking it out on each other isn’t helping anyone, and it’s not going to bring back your mum.’
She’d stopped short of telling Masie to say sorry. That would’ve been pushing it. Thankfully there was no need. Masie had grunted a half-apology and trudged into the wood.
Noah had sniffed, looking down at the ground.
‘You OK?’
‘I guess.’
‘She’s just upset. She didn’t mean any of that. Not really.’
Noah hadn’t looked convinced as he took Bill’s hand and they’d set off after his sister.
Masie still wasn’t making it easy. She wouldn’t slow down, even after Bill had called out. She kept going off the poor excuse for a path to squeeze between trees or clamber over fallen tree trunks. Bill could have guessed what would happen.
Too far for them to catch her, Masie slipped and let out a squeal. She fell out of sight, and they could hear her rolling away.
‘Masie!’ Noah shouted, letting go of Bill’s hand to rush forwards.
‘No, wait!’ Bill said, grabbing him before he could drop down the sudden slope that had already claimed his sister.
Masie was lying in a small clearing between the trees, and wasn’t moving.
‘Are you all right?’ Bill said, scrambling down the bank and trying not to go tumbling down the hill like Jack following Jill. The last thing she wanted was a broken crown. Noah, at least, was more sensible, sliding down on his bum with scant regard for his jeans.
‘Masie,’ Bill said as she reached the bottom.
The girl stirred, moaning. Thank God. She was awake.
‘Does anything hurt?’
‘No,’ Masie whimpered, trying not to cry.
She let Bill help her up, only to have Noah throw his arms around her. She didn’t fight the hug, pulling him in close.
‘I’m sorry, Masie,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I got the leaf wrong.’
‘I’m sorry too. But you can’t be as good as me.’
‘Hey,’ he complained, pulling out of the hug, but his sister was smiling, and not unkindly.
The smile fell away when a twig snapped, just beyond the trees.
‘What was that?’ Masie asked, grabbing her brother’s hand and pulling him back towards Bill.
‘I don’t know,’ Bill admitted quietly, putting protective hands on their shoulders.
Down here, the trees were packed closer than ever, the shadows between just that little bit darker. They waited, not daring to move, their hearts thumping in their throats, but all was still. No more movement. No more sounds, except for the gentle sway of the trees, the wood creaking in the wind.
Bill forced herself to relax, giving their shoulders a reassuring squeeze. ‘It’s fine. There’s nothing there.’
‘Are you sure?’ Noah stammered.
‘Yeah,’ she told. ‘It was just a—’
Leaves crunched into the ground, nearer than before. Louder. There was a grunt, deep and wet, and all three of them scrambled back up the slope, grabbing exposed roots, clumps of weeds, anything to get leverage. Noah was the first to the top, springing up the bank like a mountain goat. Masie was close behind, Bill taking longer, slipping as she reached the path. She pitched forward, grabbing a branch, pulling herself up over the edge.
She looked down, expecting to see a pair of glowing eyes. Instead, a deer stared up at her, dark eyes wide with fear, long legs trembling. It twitched its ears and hopped away, back into the trees.
Bill laughed, relief washing over her. The children joined in, Masie forgetting her mardy pre-teen act and letting Bill pull her in for a hug.
‘If you go down to the woods today …’ Bill laughed.
‘Be sure of a big surprise,’ Noah said, throwing his arms around them both.
‘Hey, get off, Peanut,’ Masie said.
‘Peanut?’ Bill asked, looking down at them.
‘That’s what Mum calls me,’ Noah said proudly. ‘Her little Peanut.’
‘Peanut …’ repeated a voice nearby.
Bill twisted around so fast that she almost tumbled back down the hill. ‘Who was that?’
‘Mum?’ Noah asked. ‘Mum, where are you?’
The kids r
an forward, Bill following behind. ‘Sammy? Are you there? I’ve got Noah and Masie with me. They want to find you.’
‘Masie …’ the voice said. ‘Find us.’
‘Over here,’ Masie said, finding a silver tree. It had grown at an angle; its branches empty save for a few stubborn leaves. The rest were in its shadow.
Noah snatched one up. ‘That’s a rowan leaf! Bill, it’s a rowan!
Bill skirted around the tree. There was a hole in the earth, like a burrow beneath the roots. ‘There’s someone down there.’
Masie appeared beside her, nearly falling over in her haste. ‘Mum?’
A woman was in the hole, curled up in a ball. Her curly hair was tangled with leaves and bark, her coat and skirt covered with grime.
‘Trapped,’ she wailed, shaking, not from cold, but fear.
‘It’s OK,’ Bill said. ‘We’ve found you.’
‘Found us.’
‘Mum,’ Noah sobbed.
Bill got down behind the cramped hole, offering the woman her hand. ‘I can help you out. We all can.’
The woman grabbed Bill’s hand and squeezed tight. Her finger nails were black with dirt.
‘That’s it,’ Bill said, as she guided her out of the burrow.
Masie and Noah stood back, hand in hand, staring at their mum, as if they were afraid of coming near.
‘It’s fine,’ Bill said to them, putting an arm around the woman. She held Bill tight, still trembling. Her eyes were screwed up tight. Why wouldn’t she open them?
‘Mum?’ Masie asked, unsure.
‘Look,’ Bill said. ‘It’s your kids. Open your eyes so you can see them. We’re going to take you home.’
‘Home?’ she parroted, her voice croaking.
‘Yeah, back to Nan,’ said Masie, taking a step closer. ‘She’s been looking after us.’
‘Home,’ the woman repeated, stronger this time. Her grip on Bill eased, just a little.
‘That’s it. Come on, Sammy. Open your eyes and we can get you home.’
‘Home,’ Sammy wailed, and her eyes opened to blaze like torches. Bright. Glaring. Like the eyes of a Shining Man.
Chapter 23
Chased