by Jacob Grey
“How do you know that?” whispered Selina.
He was just beginning to creep back towards the cabin door, when he felt the boat shift again beneath his feet. Someone else had climbed on board. He pointed towards the back of the cabin. “Hide!” he said. Selina looked terrified, but did as he said, sneaking out of sight behind a stack of crates.
Caw noticed there was a smaller door to the rear of the cabin. He stabbed a finger towards it and Selina nodded. As Caw peered through the crack in the main door, he saw two figures standing on the prow.
They weren’t police – he could see that at once. One was a woman – it was hard to tell how old – wearing ill-fitting patchwork clothes of several textures and styles. She had wild hair sticking up at strange angles and her top teeth peeked out over her lip. The person at her side couldn’t have been more different. He was impeccably dressed in a white suit so bright it seemed to glow. He must have been about fifty and his slightly jowly, lined face would have been friendly but for his small, chilly blue eyes. He wore a white cowboy hat.
The woman twitched. “We-we-we know you’re in there!” she stammered in a high-pitched voice. “C-c-come out, little boy.”
Caw’s breath was building in his lungs, and he tried to let it out slowly. He knew he could probably get away with the help of the crows, but what about Selina? The woman had only said “little boy” – perhaps they didn’t even know Selina was inside. He had to cause a distraction so she could escape.
He pushed the door open slowly and stepped out. “Who are you?” he said, trying to sound unafraid.
“Allow us to introduce ourselves,” drawled the man in the white suit. He took off his hat, and beneath it his hair was white too and neatly combed.
“My name is Mr Silk, and this esteemed lady goes by the name of Pinkerton.”
“What do you want?” said Caw. He looked around for his crows, ready to give the word.
“A few birds aren’t going to help you now,” said the man.
Caw flinched. If they knew he was the crow talker, that could only mean one thing.
“You’re ferals,” he said.
The woman with the wild hair began to chuckle, and the deck came alive, shifting in many parts. Hundreds of eyes glinted up at Caw, as a swarm of rats rushed towards him.
aw stumbled backwards as they came for him. He kicked out at one of the piled crates, sending it sliding and shattering in the path of the rats. But they just streamed over the top, unrelenting, their furry bodies rustling.
Caw reached out and snatched a wooden pole with a metal hook at the end. He swept it across the deck, scattering as many rats as he could. But soon they were on the pole as well, scurrying along its length. Caw hurled it away. He hopped up on a barrel and on to the top of the cabin, landing in a crouch. He saw that the woman’s eyes had rolled back in her head, revealing bloodshot whites that flickered as she controlled the rodents. They attacked the sides of the cabin in waves, piling on top of each other as they scrambled up and fell back, unable to gain purchase with their clicking claws.
“Do you have any comprehension,” said the man in the white suit, “of how quickly these creatures could devour you? A rat will eat until it is incapable even of moving. They aren’t picky either – muscle, bone, cartilage – it’s all the same to them.”
Caw looked around for an escape route, but the rats were everywhere. There was only the water, and he couldn’t swim. And what about Selina? Had she managed to get away through the other door yet? “Just tell me what you want,” he said.
Mr Silk spread his arms. There was something strange about the material of his suit, Caw thought, but he couldn’t work out what it was.
“Don’t play games with me, boy,” said the suited man. “It’s the stone we want.”
Caw swallowed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
Mr Silk smiled. “Come, come,” he said. “Let’s not waste each other’s time. Pinkerton?”
The woman twitched a hand and the rats went into a frenzy, piling on top of one another, forming a ramp at the side of the cabin. One managed to scramble up and on to Caw’s foot. He kicked it away.
Then, with a thought, he summoned his crows. Their black shapes gathered in his consciousness and he sent them swooping towards Pinkerton.
Screech, Glum and Shimmer dived through the air. At the same moment, Mr Silk’s jacket seemed to burst outwards. Hundreds of fluttering creatures peeled off the material and flew up to intercept the crows. Moths …
I can’t see! Glum cried out as the winged creatures enveloped him. Screech and Shimmer veered off wildly as they too were cloaked with insects.
“Let’s try again, shall we,” said Mr Silk. “Give me the Midnight Stone.”
‘D-d-do it!” cackled Pinkerton. “She wants it. She wants it.”
She? thought Caw. Who is she?
He felt a stinging pain in his ankle, and cried out. A rat hung by its teeth. Another clambered over his foot and on to his trousers, chattering horribly. The rest followed, swarming up his legs. Caw felt them sink their jaws into his flesh as one and he screamed, thrashing. More rats scrambled over his back. An endless stream. There was only one way out now. He raised himself up – fighting the weight of the squirming bodies clinging all over him – and he leapt off the boat’s edge into the freezing water below.
It swallowed him, and for a moment all he could see were bubbles in the blackness. His clothes dragged at his limbs, but then his head broke the surface and he sucked in a breath.
Panic gripped his heart. His head went under again and water choked him. He splashed back to the surface, coughing. There were rats in the river too, their bodies bobbing all around. The bank was only a few feet away, but he couldn’t reach it. He sank once more.
This time his feet touched the gravelly bottom of the Blackwater. He pushed off with his toes, lunging, just managing to grab a rope holding the boat against the bank. Sucking in rapid breaths, he heaved his sodden body out of the water.
Mr Silk was already standing on the riverside path. His moths fluttered all around him, then settled as one, forming a seamless camouflage over his jacket. Caw shot a glance at the boat and saw that the cabin’s back door was open. At least Selina had got out.
“You cannot escape us,” said Mr Silk calmly. “She wants the stone and she will have it.”
Caw hesitated. He didn’t even know what the stone was, but it had been entrusted to him by his mother. The one thing she’d left him. No way would he hand it over without a fight.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. His crows were nowhere to be seen. He looked around for Selina, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. Then he felt something digging into his back. Of course! He had another weapon.
Caw threw off his sodden jacket and drew the Crow’s Beak from its harness.
Mr Silk looked at the sword calmly as he held out one arm, chivalrously, to help Pinkerton disembark. The tide of rats followed her.
“Please,” he said. “There’s no need to be uncivil.”
“Get away from him,” said another voice.
Caw spun around and saw a small shape coming along the path. His heart plummeted as he realised it was Pip, with a huge swarm of mice at his heels.
“Get out of here!” said Caw. Pip shook his head. With a thrust of his arm, he sent his mice charging past Caw towards the new ferals.
The rats met the mice in a seething battle, bodies tipping over each other with horrible sounds and squeals as the rodents bit one another. Seeing that Mr Silk had disappeared, Caw took his chance and jumped over the scrapping mice and rats, launching himself at Pinkerton. She backed away, flapping her arms, until she tripped and landed on the ground. Caw brought the tip of the Crow’s Beak to her neck.
“P-p-please …” she said. “Don’t kill me!”
“Call off your rats!” he said.
The nattering teeth and the screeching died down, leaving silen
ce. “Pip?” Caw called out, looking behind him.
Mr Silk had the boy gripped from behind, legs off the ground, with a slender silver blade resting against his throat. How had the moth feral even got there, past Caw? It was a narrow path...
Rats melted away into the shadows, and the mice gathered around Pip, keeping their distance.
“Let him go,” said Caw.
Mr Silk grinned. “Or what? You’ll kill her? I’d guess you care a good deal more for this boy than I do for poor Pinkerton there. Run her through, for all I care.”
“W-what … b-but …” said Pinkerton, her eyes dancing madly.
“So hand it over before he bleeds,” said Mr Silk.
“Don’t give him anything!” said Pip.
“Patience is not one of my virtues,” said Mr Silk. He pressed the blade hard against Pip’s white throat.
Caw let his mind reach out to his crows, summoning them as fast as he could. He sensed their crow spirits flicker in response, but it was Shimmer who shot through the air first. She raked her claws along Mr Silk’s hand. He yelled out in pain and dropped his knife, then Glum thumped into his shoulder. A cloud of moths erupted from the feral as he fell to the ground.
The crows wouldn’t be able to keep Mr Silk down for long. Caw grabbed Pip and together they ran along the path, then skidded around a corner, entering an alleyway between two wharf buildings.
They ran until Caw’s lungs burned, trying to put as much distance between them and the river as possible. Caw’s leg was really hurting. As they reached a road bridge, Selina’s voice called out from above.
“This way!”
She was peering down from a set of narrow steps leading up the side of the bridge. Caw and Pip sprinted towards her and together they climbed up on to a deserted road. The crows landed safely on the edge of the bridge in a flutter of black wings.
Did you see Shimmer? said Screech. She got him right between the eyes!
A few mice scurried along the side of the road, making Selina stare in wonder.
“Who is she?” asked Pip, looking at Selina.
Caw rounded on him, seizing his shoulders.
“Never mind that. Why were you following me?” he said savagely. “You nearly got yourself killed!”
Pip’s lower lip began to wobble. “I just wanted to help you.”
“I don’t need your help!” said Caw. “I want you to stop following me.” He looked around, expecting to see pigeons nearby. “Are Crumb’s spies here too?”
“What spies? What are you talking about?” asked Selina. She was shaking her head in confusion. “Who were those people? And why were all those rats attacking like that? And the moths? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s hard to explain,” said Caw.
“Well, maybe you should try,” said Selina. “We nearly got killed. Did you know those people? What did they want?”
Things were moving so fast, Caw couldn’t keep up. But the words of Felix Quaker still rang in his head. Neither Selina nor Pip had heard what Mr Silk said about the stone. The secret was safe. “I don’t know,” he said. “Look, you should go back to my house.”
Selina frowned. “Hang on – what do you mean? Where are you going?”
Back to the church, said Glum. Quite enough adventures for one evening.
“And what’s with the crows?” snapped Selina. “I swear they’ve been following us since we left your house.”
“Maybe you should just tell her,” said Pip. As if on cue, the mice raced up the side of his trousers, disappearing into his clothes.
Caw glared at him.
“Tell me what?” said Selina. “Are you two some sort of circus act?”
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Please, you’ll be safer if you’re not with us, that’s all.”
He broke away from her. He needed time to think.
“No way!” she said, following him. “You can’t just run off. Tell me – what is going on?”
Want us to stall her? said Screech, swooping so close over Selina’s head she had to duck. She looked up angrily, but kept on after Caw, then stopped and glared at Pip.
“You tell me, then, mouse boy,” she said.
Caw took a deep breath and spun round. “OK, I’ll explain. But not here.” If there were enemy ferals on the loose, Caw could only think of one person who might be able to help. He set off north, away from the river. It was time to visit the most powerful feral in Blackstone.
“Where are we going?” said Pip, trotting to keep up.
“To see Velma Strickham,” said Caw.
On the way, Caw began to explain to Selina all about the secret world of the ferals, with Pip interrupting every so often. At first, she struggled to take it in, but Screech and Shimmer seemed happy to demonstrate that he really could communicate with them by landing on each shoulder on command. Glum refused.
I’m not a performing monkey, he grumbled.
Pip had enjoyed showing off, forming a chain of mice across his arms, then making them sit in a perfect circle on the ground.
“That’s incredible,” said Selina her eyes wide. “I don’t remember the Dark Summer. We lived by the coast then and I would have only been six or seven anyway.”
Caw had been back to the park only once in the previous two months and that was to get his meagre belongings from the old nest. As they got close, he found himself thinking how much his life had changed in such a short space of time. When he had lived in the tree-house, the world of ferals had been as much a mystery to him as it was to Selina. He had barely spoken to another human being.
Lydia Strickham and her family had changed all that.
There were lights on in the Strickham house when they arrived outside. Caw remembered what Lydia had said about her dad getting fired and how they might have to move. He felt a prickle of apprehension as they approached the front door. The first time he had come here for dinner, he had been struck almost dumb with nerves. His mind wandered ahead, to whether or not he was going to tell Mrs Strickham about the stone. The Midnight Stone, Mr Silk had called it. Quaker had told him not to. Your mother would have told you the same – that’s what he’d said. Could that be true? Caw wasn’t sure.
He raised his hand to knock, when Shimmer flew over the top of the house.
She’s not alone. The man’s with her.
Caw paused. “Mr Strickham.”
“Why don’t we go to Crumb instead?” said Pip. “He’ll know what to—”
“No,” said Caw. He could only imagine the pigeon feral’s face if he found out what Selina and Caw had been up to. As it was, he was pretty sure he’d seen at least two pigeons following them a mile back. Crumb could wait.
Pip scuffed his feet sulkily.
“What’s the problem with Mr Strickham?” asked Selina.
“He doesn’t know his wife is a feral,” said Caw. He thought for a moment. “We’ll have to wait.”
“It’s freezing,” said Selina.
Caw realised she was right. His clothes were still soaked from the fall into the river and the cold air seeped right through them.
“Let’s go round the back,” he said.
They scaled the walls at the rear of the house and dropped into the garden. Caw knew Lydia’s room was on the second floor. Her curtains were closed, but her light was on.
“Screech, can you knock for us?”
A moment later, after the crow had tapped the window with his beak, Lydia’s curtains drew back. When she saw Caw and his friends in the garden, she looked shocked, then angry. The curtains fell again.
“So she’s your friend, is she?” asked Selina.
“I hope so,” said Caw. It looked like Lydia was still smarting from their conversation at the funeral.
“Now we have to go back to the church,” said Pip.
Caw was about to agree, reluctantly, when the back door opened a crack. Lydia peered out. “You’d better come in quietly,” she said.
Caw and the others tiptoed inside
, then up the stairs and into Lydia’s bedroom. The walls were covered in animal posters. She closed the door behind them and looked at their damp clothes. “You look like you’ve been swimming,” she said bluntly. “Is this the girl you told me about?”
“Hi, my name’s Selina,” she said, holding out her hand. “I like your bedroom, by the way. It’s … cute.”
“Lydia,” said Lydia, not taking the hand. “So I guess your scavenging trip didn’t go according to plan.”
Caw opened his jacket, and took out a soggy packet of crushed biscuits.
Lydia rolled her eyes. “I hope it was worth it.”
There was another tap at the window and Caw saw all three crows waiting there.
“They want to come in,” he said.
Lydia opened the window and the crows flapped into the room.
Weird wallpaper, said Screech, inspecting the wall decorations. Why no crows?
“What’s he saying?” said Lydia.
“He likes your posters,” said Caw.
He explained what had happened down by the river, leaving out any mention of the stone. Lydia’s face began to soften a little.
“You should have let me come with you,” she said.
She nodded at Selina. “So is she a feral too?”
“No,” said Caw. “Lydia, we need to speak to your mum.”
Lydia’s eyes drifted to his foot and she winced. “Caw, you’re bleeding on my carpet.”
Caw looked down too and saw a trail of blood dripping from his ankle. “Oh! Sorry!”
Lydia threw him a tissue from her bedside table and Caw gingerly rolled up his trouser leg. His calf and ankle were covered in puncture marks.
“Those look painful,” said a voice. They all jumped.
Mrs Strickham was standing in the doorway, wearing a dressing gown.
“Mum! You could have knocked!” said Lydia.
“I could say the same for our guests,” said Mrs Strickham. “Who is this young lady?” Her tone was disapproving.
“My name is Selina,” she said, looking slightly afraid.
Caw tried to regain his composure. “I’m sorry, I brought her here,” he said. “We didn’t know where else to go. I … we had to tell her who we are.”