by Lari Don
Beth said, “Molly, help me get the torches.”
Molly ran into the trees and pulled up four torches, then held them carefully in a flaming bundle.
Beth called, “Sorry to disturb you, my feathered friends. We’ll leave you to roost in peace now.” They followed the horse and the sphinx towards the tumbledown ruin.
“Where’s the toad?” asked Molly.
“Perched on top of the load,” gasped Beth. “Guarding a couple of twigs he was very proud of.”
“Did you make that sledge thing?”
Beth nodded, her face clear in the light of the half dozen torches she was carrying. “It’s a hurdle, used for pulling loads on rough ground.”
“How did you make it so fast?”
“I asked the wood to twist and weave, and showed it how.”
“But wasn’t the fallen wood dead?”
“Not completely. All wood has a little life energy left in it and I can call on that, to create light or warmth or a new shape. We’re woodworkers as well as tree spirits.”
“That’s useful,” said Molly. “Maybe we will get this done in one night.”
“If you pull your weight, hare-girl, we might. Don’t slow us down.” Beth marched off.
Molly sighed. She couldn’t even give that girl a compliment without annoying her.
When Molly reached the farm, Beth was pushing torches into the ground. But Molly didn’t see three buildings, she just saw heaps of stone.
How could they rebuild this in a night?
Then she noticed Atacama shoving at the back of the hurdle, trying to get it over a steep rise. She jabbed her handful of torches into the ground in a bright jumble, then lifted the edge of the hurdle and eased it over the hump.
“Why didn’t you just go round this?” she asked.
“Because it rings the farm,” said Atacama.
Molly stood on the highest point of the small ridge and saw that it circled round the ruins. Like earthworks round ancient standing stones or the edge of a moat round a castle.
“Why would a farm have…?” Then she stopped. “Is this the wyrm?”
Beth laughed. “Yes. Of course.”
Molly jumped down and took a few fast steps away from the ring of grass and heather.
Beth laughed even louder. “Don’t be scared, hare-girl. It’s sound asleep. And it won’t wake up until we build these walls.”
Chapter 14
“Remember why we’re doing this.” Innes stood on the tumbledown wall, a blazing torch in each hand. “It’s not about the farm, it’s not about the wyrm, it’s about us and our curses. This is a task to prove ourselves to Mrs Sharpe. If we work as a team, rebuild the farm, free the wyrm and return with our homework done, then she’ll lift our curses. So, here’s what we do.”
He held the torches out wide, pointing both ways along the ruined wall. “This is the farmhouse. It will need a chimney, windows, a door. The barn, over there,” he swung the torches so fast that sparks flew, “is bigger, but simpler, so it won’t take as long. We’ll leave the outhouse until last and build it from leftover stones.
“First, Atacama and I will haul the stones into graded piles, while Beth, Molly and the toad build scaffolding. Then we’ll create a catapult system, to get the stones from the ground to the walls.”
“What about cement?” asked Molly. “To hold the stones in place?”
Innes laughed. “We won’t need cement. With a kelpie at work, every stone will stay where we put it!”
Molly muttered to Beth, “He’s confident.”
Beth said, “We each have our own skills and powers, there’s no point being modest about them. You’re definitely best at lying still and running away.”
Molly bit back a reply, and took a step away to look at the size of the house.
“Mind the toad!” Beth yelled.
Molly looked down. Her heel was pressing into the ground just millimetres from the toad’s head. “Sorry, toad.” She moved her foot. “So, Beth, can I help build the scaffolding?”
“No. Only dryads can talk to wood. You can fetch and carry for me. I’ll build a tower against this wall, then we’ll move it round when we want to build the next one.”
So they took off their coats and scarves, and rolled up their sleeves. Atacama and Innes used the hurdle to gather the stones scattered around the hillside. Beth built a tall wooden structure with the branches Molly and the toad brought her.
“Pass me up the brightest torch,” Beth called, as she clambered up the scaffolding.
Molly hesitated. “Isn’t putting burning branches on wooden scaffolding a fire risk?”
Beth reached her hand down. “My torches will burn only what I ask them to burn.”
Molly pulled a torch from the ground and reached up with it. But she couldn’t stretch far enough. “Give me a minute, I’ll climb up with it.”
“No need,” said Beth, “just let go.”
“Really?”
“Really! If you question all my instructions, we’ll never finish in a night. You’re always slowing us down, hare-girl.”
Molly took a deep breath. “I know you don’t like me, Beth, and I’ve been ignoring your snarky comments because we’re all trying to work together, but I’m running out of patience. So, honestly, if you can’t be polite, I’ll go and help Innes and Atacama, then we’ll see how long it takes you to build scaffolding with just a toad to boss about.”
She stared at Beth.
Beth glared at her.
Then Beth said, “Let go of the torch, please.”
Molly nodded, let go of the torch and ducked out of the way, expecting it to fall.
But the torch didn’t fall.
The torch rose, through the air, to Beth’s outstretched hand. Beth grabbed it, and tied it with bark twine to the scaffolding.
Molly turned to the toad, who was dragging a twig over. “Wow. She can do anything with wood. Even ignore gravity.”
The toad croaked. Which was either a yes, or a complaint at the weight of the twig.
After building one more layer of wooden scaffolding they were ready to start the stone walls.
Molly, Beth, Atacama and the toad stood on the lowest level of the scaffolding, watching Innes the boy put a stone on one end of what looked like a seesaw, then change to Innes the horse and stamp a heavy hoof on the other end. The stone flew into the air in a precise curve and landed on the top edge of the wall.
Innes called up, “Is that stone secure?”
The stone was sitting slightly squint, so Molly eased it into place, and called down, “This one’s fine, send up the next.” Another stone curved up, to thump into the next space on the wall.
“Watch out!” Beth yelled at Atacama. “You nearly knocked the toad off the scaffolding with your tail!”
Atacama said, “This isn’t the safest place for you, is it, toad? Why don’t you start building the outhouse yourself, and we’ll help after we’ve finished the larger buildings?”
Once the toad jumped down, they moved more confidently on the tower.
Soon, Innes was sending up stones so fast that Beth, Molly and Atacama were kept busy straightening the stones, first on the lower level, then the middle level of the scaffolding.
When Molly climbed to the highest level of the scaffolding to get ready for the next layer of stones, she saw something move at the edge of her vision. Something black and glossy in the wavering torchlight.
At first she thought it was Atacama, climbing up to help her. But this shape wasn’t sinuous, it was jerky.
She saw it move closer.
A crow.
The crow strode across the scaffolding, its beak jabbing into the air with each strutting step, then perched on the wall.
“Innes, stop!” Molly shouted. “Don’t send another stone up yet. There’s a crow here, and you’ll crush it!”
In a fluttering of shiny feathers, more crows settled on the pale stones.
Molly said softly, “Sorry if we’ve wo
ken you up, but that’s not a safe place to roost. Please go back to your comfy trees.” But they didn’t move.
Molly called down, “Does anyone speak crow? We have a problem…”
“What kind of problem?” Beth scrambled up.
Molly pointed at the line of crows. “I think they’re staging a sit-down protest, to stop us building any higher. Can you persuade them to go away?”
“How? I can’t talk to crows.”
“You talk to trees!”
“I’m a tree spirit. I’m not a crow spirit. I can’t talk to crows or mice or midgies or anything else that isn’t magical and doesn’t use words.”
Molly leant down. “Atacama? Do you speak crow?”
The sphinx jumped up beside her. “I don’t speak to birds.” He smiled. “I eat birds.” He took a step towards the crows.
They didn’t move.
“Don’t hurt them!” said Beth.
“I’m not trying to hurt them. I’m trying to persuade them they’d be safer somewhere else.” He took a slow low stalking-predator step towards the line of a dozen crows.
They looked calmly back at him. They didn’t move.
Innes clambered up and squeezed between Molly and Beth. “On three, everyone shout and wave and flap and pretend to be a scary scarecrow. 1, 2, 3…”
On the narrow platform, Atacama roared and reared and pawed the air, while Innes, Beth and Molly yelled and clapped and flapped their arms.
One small crow at the end of the line opened its beak and cawed, kraa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, but the crows didn’t move.
The scaffolding moved though, wobbling under their feet.
“Stop,” said Innes. “They’re not easily frightened.”
Beth knelt down and murmured to the shoogly wooden frame. Once Beth had steadied the scaffolding, they sat down carefully, backs to the crows, looking out into the dark night.
“Perhaps this is a test,” said Atacama. “Are we prepared to hurt innocent crows to free the wyrm?”
“Of course not,” said Beth.
“I’m a hunter,” said Innes. “I don’t have the same attitude to hurting non-magical creatures as you. But if this is a test set by Mrs Sharpe, then we shouldn’t hurt these crows deliberately, even if they are being really annoying. So how can we build the walls?”
“Maybe we shouldn’t build them,” said Molly. “We still haven’t properly discussed whether it’s sensible or wise to free this wyrm. We already know that a freed wyrm might eat local sheep and cows and who knows what else, and now building these walls might injure the crows. Mrs Sharpe didn’t tell us to lift the curse, she told us to consider whether we should lift it. I think that’s the test.”
Innes sighed. “But if we don’t free the wyrm, it seems like we’re wimping out. I don’t like wimping out. If we can find a way to lift the curse without hurting the crows, that would show teamwork and commitment to the workshop.”
Molly asked, yet again, “So no one else thinks setting a huge serpent free is risky?”
Beth laughed. “You really are a hare-girl, aren’t you? Scared of everything! It’s not that risky. The wyrm will probably only take one sheep from one farm once a year. That’s far fewer sheep than human cars and lorries kill driving too fast along these roads. I respect life, but predators are part of life, and if we’re working with these two predators,” she waved at Innes and Atacama, “we can’t be squeamish about letting another predator loose.”
Molly looked at Innes and Atacama. They both smiled at her with their bright white teeth.
Molly shifted round and looked at the crows. They all stared back at her.
“We can’t scare them away,” said Molly. “And we don’t want to squash them.”
“We might want to squash them,” muttered Innes, “but it wouldn’t be wise…”
Molly said, “So let’s move them.”
“Move them? How?”
“Just pick them up, and put them on the scaffolding rather than the stones.”
Innes laughed. “You want to pick up a crow in your bare hands? Do you hear this, Beth? Molly’s not scared of everything after all!”
Molly stood up and faced the crows, wondering if it was possible to lift one up without getting her eyes pecked out.
She darted forward and snatched the smallest crow, the one that had laughed at them. She wrapped her hands round its smooth body and wings, and lifted. The crow weighed almost nothing, like it was made of air.
It squawked angrily and jerked about, thrashing its wings, but Molly held tight, carried it over to a wooden rail and gently placed it down. The bird balanced on the rail, preened an out-of-place feather, then turned its head slowly to look at Molly. The gleaming black eyes stared at her face, then the crow jerked its head forward and stabbed at her right hand with its sharp black beak.
Molly yelled and jumped away.
Then all the crows on the wall flew straight at Molly, diving and scratching and stabbing.
Molly fell to the wooden floor of the scaffolding and wrapped her hands around her head. But the crows kept mobbing her, whacking with their wings, striking with their beaks, tearing with their claws.
Molly tried not to scream as she heard Atacama snarling above her and felt the crows flapping away from her.
When she looked up, the crows were sitting calmly on the wall again.
Molly shuffled to the far edge of the scaffolding. “This isn’t a passive protest any more.” She clenched her fists to stop her hands trembling. “They really don’t want us to build here – and they’re willing to hurt us.”
Innes grabbed Molly’s hand and looked at the blood on her skin. He turned to the crows. “I don’t know if you’re ordinary crows or something else. And I don’t really care. We are building this farm tonight and if you get in our way, or hurt my friends again, then I will hurt you.”
All the crows launched themselves towards him, diving at his face.
Innes laughed and jumped backwards off the scaffolding. The crows flew after him. The other three looked down and saw the white horse on the ground, kicking at black crows with his hooves.
Atacama said, “If Innes can send stones up, I’ll settle them in place.”
Beth nodded. “Hare-girl, can you use a torch to keep the crows away from Innes down there, while I keep them off Atacama up here?”
“Of course.” Molly wiped her bloody hands on her jeans, then clambered down the scaffolding.
Innes was rearing and bucking and kicking, as the crows mobbed him, screaming their short harsh barking calls.
“Don’t worry about the crows!” Molly grabbed a torch from the ground. “Just concentrate on sending the stones up.”
She waved the torch in the air, whirling it round, driving the crows away from Innes.
He shifted into a boy and dragged a stone onto one end of his plank. Then he shifted into a horse and stamped on the other end.
Molly swung the torch, forcing the crows away from Innes as he sent stones up so fast that he was a blur of boy and horse.
Molly and the crows moved fast too. The birds kept diving at Innes, and she kept sweeping them away with the torch. She didn’t set fire to any feathers with her flames, but she got close enough to keep them wary. She was dancing round the kelpie, tripping over the pile of coats and scarves, leaping over the empty hurdle.
The crows didn’t give up: half a dozen were attacking Innes and half a dozen were attacking Atacama. But the girls’ effective defence with the torches meant the crows couldn’t stop the kelpie and the sphinx building, so the wall grew taller, layer on layer.
Then Beth called down, “We’ve finished the south wall, we’ll have to move the scaffolding round to the—”
But her voice was drowned out by a vast vibrating shriek. Not from the crows attacking them, but from the sky above. It sounded like hundreds of crows shrieking together – or one huge crow giving an order.
Suddenly a black blizzard of feathers fell on them from the sky.
&
nbsp; Each of them was being attacked by dozens of crows.
Molly, who had been chasing away small numbers of crows easily with swings of the torch, found herself being mobbed by so many crows that she couldn’t aim at them all at once.
Then one crow grasped her right wrist and another pecked viciously at her hand.
Molly dropped the torch.
Now she had nothing to defend herself or Innes with.
Molly crouched low to the ground, covering her face and her eyes. She was being bombarded by wings and claws and beaks.
She could hear Innes bellowing and stamping his hooves. She could hear Atacama roaring high above her. She could hear Beth screaming.
She could hear herself screaming too. She was covered in crows, all pecking and scratching.
Molly crawled towards the pile of coats, hoping to shelter under them. Her knee banged into something smooth and wooden. The hurdle that Beth had woven. It felt flimsy but it had held massive weights of wood and stone. Could it protect her?
She moved her hands away from her face to pull the hurdle up and over herself. But above the clouds of crows that were attacking Innes, she saw something larger than a bird.
She saw Beth rising into the air.
Dozens of crows had grabbed the dryad’s dark clothes in their black claws and beaks, and were lifting her off the scaffolding.
Beth yelled, “Help! They’re going to drop me! Help!”
The crows flew upwards, lifting Beth higher and higher…
Chapter 15
Beth screamed in panic as the crows flew her into the night sky. Atacama and Innes yelled threats. Molly didn’t shout, or even stand up. She was trembling too much. Perhaps she really was a hare-girl, scared of everything.
But however scared she was of the crows attacking her, she couldn’t cower under a hurdle while Beth was in danger. She shoved the hurdle away with her bleeding right hand, so she wouldn’t be tempted to hide.
As she pushed it, she felt the rough bark and twisted twigs of the fallen wood. Wood that still contained some life energy, Beth had said. Wood that would use that energy for Beth, if Beth asked.