by Lari Don
Molly nodded. “Let’s go to Ballindreich.”
Beth said, “This is a mistake.”
Molly looked up at her. “It might be a mistake, but we can’t know until we try. And I already know that sitting about doing nothing would be a much worse mistake. So, who’s coming to steal a meteorite?”
***
As they walked away from Beth again, Innes asked Atacama, “Did you know she was there?”
The sphinx nodded. “I hoped when she heard what we’d seen at the Hall, she’d join us again.”
“Not likely,” said Innes. “She becomes more tree-centred every time we face a minor problem.”
“The Promise Keeper warping the curse arc is hardly a minor problem,” said Theo as they crossed the empty field. “We must head straight for Ballindreich.”
“We won’t get in this late,” said Innes. “It’s open to the public again in the morning.”
Molly said, “You think we should go in the front door, as visitors, when we’re planning to remove one of their exhibits?”
“Yeah. It’s a dusty old place, and there’s only one member of staff, who usually stays at the door selling tickets. We don’t need to break into the building, just the cabinet. Let’s meet in the Ballindreich car park at nine o’clock.”
“Excellent plan,” said Atacama. “It gives me time to do my night shift.”
Innes grinned. “Off you trot to your sweetie shop then.”
His friends watched as the sphinx ran towards the dark edge of the field.
Then Molly glanced back at the birches, shining silver in the evening light. She couldn’t see Beth in the branches any more.
“Will Beth ever come out of her trees again?” asked Molly.
“She’s a dryad,” said Innes. “She’s always much happier in the woods than out of them.”
Theo said, “But she has to leave the trees sometimes to do her job properly: to guard trees from the moving world outside their own static sphere. Like kelpies caring for rivers: you have to leave the riverbed and deal with threats from further afield.”
Innes snorted. “My dad brings threats to his rivers, by breaking rules designed to keep them safe—”
“Don’t panic,” said a voice behind them.
They all whirled round.
Atacama was crouched on the grass.
“Don’t panic,” he whispered. “But on my way to work, I crossed a recent scent. And this time I remembered who it was: it’s your father, Innes. He’s here, watching us, right now.”
Chapter Twelve
Molly heard Innes’s breathing stutter. She reached out and grabbed his hand. “It’s ok. Your dad won’t attack you when we’re all here.”
“But he must be stalking me, waiting until I’m alone, or with a smaller group. He’s a hunter. He waits for his chance, then he pounces. He’s not going to stop. I’ll never be safe.”
Innes let out a slow breath. He pulled away from Molly and looked round the dark field. “If I don’t face him now, I’ll always be scared.” He called out, “Dad? I know you’re there. Stop skulking in the shadows. Come on out.”
The evening air was still and silent.
“Are you afraid? Are you shy? Have you dozed off? Come on, hunter, come and face me!”
The fence at the far edge of the field creaked.
They all turned round and saw Mr Milne walk towards them.
Innes said to his friends, “Stay back. This is between him and me.” And he took two paces forward.
Theo said, “Please don’t fight your father. Whoever wins, you’ll wreck your family. You should work this out with words, not hooves. Are you listening to me, Innes?”
“I hear you. But he’s looking for a fight.”
As Mr Milne got closer, Molly saw that his face wasn’t bleeding any more: it was crisscrossed with long drying wounds. He wasn’t limping any more either.
Innes took half a step backwards, then steadied himself. “Were you waiting to catch me on my own?”
“Yes, obviously. That’s how a hunter catches his prey. But you’re never on your own. You’re always with your pet cat, your pet toad, your pet bunny, and now this wingless bird too. I might pick them off one by one. Starting with the weakest, the one at the back of the herd. I might bring down all your friends until there’s just you left, my darling son.”
“Don’t threaten my friends. I know you’re angry with me, but don’t take it out on them.”
“Then let’s sort this out one on one, man to man, horse to horse…”
“Fish to fish?” said Innes. “That would be a short fight, in a field. But I don’t want to fight you, Dad. You know that’s not a solution. Let’s both apologise, and both make sure it doesn’t happen again. That’s what you suggested when Firth let those piranhas loose in the Fiddich. And when Kyle cracked a bridge over the Dullan Water, you said ‘We’re family, we can forgive each other’. So let’s—”
“How can I forgive you? You cursed me. And when you lifted the curse, you left me scarred! I couldn’t find the witch Sharpe, so I went to that hedge-witch below the Ben, but she didn’t have strong enough herbs to heal me completely. She says I’ll have a scarred body forever. My mind is scarred too. All that time as a rock, feeling myself crumble under the water. I still feel the cracks running through me, like loathsome snakes under my skin…” Molly could see his fingers shaking. “You’ve lifted the curse, but I still feel cursed.”
“I’m sorry.” Innes walked over to his father and touched his arm. “I wouldn’t have cursed you if I’d known the curse would be charged up, that you wouldn’t be safe under the water. I just wanted to protect everyone: your prey, but also your family and your rivers from revenge attacks. I thought I was doing the right thing. I really am sorry.”
His father pushed him away. “I don’t want sympathy or apologies. I want you to suffer the way I’ve suffered.”
“I’ve got an idea, Dad. I’ve been too scared to admit to Mum where you’ve been and what I did to you. But if we tell her together, she’ll help us work this out. Let’s go home now and—”
“How can I face your mother with these scars? How can I swim my rivers with missing scales and twisted tentacles? You have ruined me! Now I will ruin you…”
The tall kelpie raised his arms. “Innes Milne, I curse—”
Innes yelled, “NO!” and the yell turned into a horse’s scream, as Innes reared up and kicked out at his father.
His father’s voice stretched and deepened as he shifted into a stallion too.
Atacama yelled, “Get out of their way!”
Molly, Theo, Snib and Atacama stumbled backwards to the fence, as the two horses barged and bit each other, charged and kicked each other, in the middle of the field.
The grey stallion was covered in old wounds, and Innes was adding new wounds with his hooves. Innes was already bleeding too, from cuts on his shoulders.
“How much damage can they do to each other in their horse forms?” asked Molly. “I mean, horses are grass-eating herbivores…”
“There was a sport called horse-fighting in the Philippines,” said Theo distantly, as if he was reading from a book, “where, for the crowd’s entertainment, stallions fought to the death.”
They watched as the horses chased and screamed and battled.
Molly had always been aware of Innes’s size and strength as a horse, but he looked like a delicate white pony against his father’s massive dappled bulk.
“Can we stop them?” she asked.
Atacama said, “We’d be killed by those hooves if we tried.”
“Theo, can’t you use your fancy magic?” said Snib. “Can’t you wrap them in rainbows or something?”
Theo looked at her blankly, then said, “Not appropriate against a friend or his family. We’ll have to think of another way.”
They watched the two huge heavy animals attack each other with their weight and speed, their hooves and teeth.
Innes rose up high on his b
ack legs and fell down with both front hooves on his father’s head. Mr Milne ducked low and bit at Innes’s exposed belly. They were both grunting and screaming.
Molly listened to the noises nervously, even though she knew that horses don’t eat meat, so horse sounds shouldn’t make her shift shape.
But perhaps shapeshifting was the answer. She asked, “What would shift them back to human, back to a size we can restrain?”
“If we change them to human, Mr Milne will finish casting that curse on Innes,” said Atacama.
“Not if we shove my cloak in his mouth,” said Theo. “Molly’s right, we should shift them back. What can shift a kelpie against their will?”
“Shock,” said Atacama. “A sudden shock sometimes shifts Innes to a different shape. It happened when his brother died.”
Molly nodded. “When his river turned to salt, he shifted into all his possible shapes while he was trying to escape.”
Atacama said, “So we need something that will give Mr Milne a sudden fright.”
“Snakes,” said Theo. “Horses react instantly to snakes. They rear up, they throw their riders, even if the snakes are harmless.”
“Mr Milne definitely doesn’t like snakes,” said Molly. “Remember what he said about loathsome snakes under his skin. A snake in the grass might work.”
“But where will we get a snake?” asked Snib.
Theo and Atacama both turned to Molly.
She shook her head. “I can’t become a snake. Snakes are predators, not prey.”
“Lots of predators hunt snakes,” said Theo. “We have birds called snake-eagles back home. But…” They all stared at the crashing, thundering, stomping, slashing fury of hooves. “But only if you want to, Molly. Getting close enough to scare him will be dangerous.”
Molly shrugged. “Innes would do it for us.”
“Then get close and rise up under his father’s head. As soon as Mr Milne changes, the rest of us will overpower him and shut him up, so he can’t finish that curse.”
Molly asked, “What kind of snake am I going to shift into?”
“One that will find a Scottish winter evening quite cold.” Theo closed his eyes, cocked his head as if he was listening, then made a bird’s call. A high, piercing call, more like a whistle than the black eagle’s yelp Molly had heard earlier that day.
Molly felt the usual flash of heat along her spine, but the heat went on for longer and longer and longer as she fell to the ground and became all spine.
She turned away from the bird’s call, away from the hooves hammering the ground. Then she remembered why she’d shifted. She turned back, her head swaying from side to side, tasting the chilly air. She had to reach the storm of hooves fast, before the cold air and cold ground drained all her energy.
She moved towards the horses, who were now circling each other in the upper corner of the field.
She moved fast, but in a very unfamiliar way: she wasn’t running or jumping, but she wasn’t slithering either. It was like she was swimming through the air just above the earth, only touching the ground with the edges of her swiftly curving body.
The kelpies were huge. Rearing, kicking, snapping, screaming, just in front of her.
Molly stopped, hidden in the grass, feeling the cold damp ground sucking the heat from her body. She wanted to coil up, conserve energy, wait for the sun to rise.
But when she flicked out her tongue, she could taste blood. Salt and iron and heat. The horses were injuring each other; she had to stop them.
The loudest noise, the most blood, the greatest heat from the largest bulk, was to her left. That’s where her target was.
She darted forward, between the smashing hooves.
Molly lifted her head, high, high, high. The front of her long body stood straight up, supported by her long tail on the ground.
She hissed, she bared the fangs she could feel against her cheeks and she lunged forward, aiming to sink her fangs into the dappled leg in front of her. She missed by a millimetre. Unable to stop herself, she rose up to strike again…
She heard a terrified shriek.
The horse above her reared, then shifted. First into a fish, flopping onto the grass, then into a man, sitting up and scrambling away.
Molly saw Atacama leap on the man, and heard Theo yell, “Shut up! Don’t say a word!”
Molly moved towards the fence, to change back, to get warm.
Behind her, Mr Milne was grunting and bellowing, trying to get words out.
She heard Innes’s voice. “He’ll never stop. He’ll keep trying to hurt me, to hurt all of you. I think… I think I have to…”
Molly heard fear and panic break in his voice, and she sped under the wire fence. She shifted to a girl as she heard Innes say, “I’m sorry, Dad. But I think the only way is to get rid of you forever. So, I…”
Molly vaulted back over the fence and ran towards Innes.
He was standing over his father, raising his hands, ignoring Theo’s yells of “No! No!”
Innes was cursing his father again.
Chapter Thirteen
“I, Innes Milne, curse my father, Fraser Milne—”
Molly crashed into him. She crashed hard and low into Innes’s ribcage, knocking him sideways, and they both fell to the ground.
She dug her elbow into his belly to knock the remaining breath out of him and she shoved both hands over his mouth. “NO! Don’t say it. Don’t do it. You can’t curse him. Not after what happened last time.”
Innes pushed at her and struggled to get her hands off his face. But Molly forced his head back and his lips shut. Innes jerked and twisted, but she used all her strength and determination to hold him down and keep him silent.
Theo ran over to join her, leaving Atacama crouched on Mr Milne’s chest, teeth very close to the kelpie’s scarred human face.
Theo stood over Innes. “I know a curse seems like a solution. I’ve used them myself to solve problems like your father. A well-worded curse is a useful piece of magic. But not now, Innes, because no curse is safe, any curse could be charged up. Whatever you do to him, Estelle could make it a hundred times worse.”
Innes stopped pushing at Molly and nodded slowly.
She looked at him. “Can we trust you not to do anything stupid? Can we trust you not to say anything you’ll regret?”
He nodded, firmly. She pulled her hands away.
He gulped in a deep breath and stood up. “I wasn’t going to hurt him. I was going to banish him. I didn’t think that was risky. But you’re right, no curse is safe.”
“Can we trust you?” Snib asked Mr Milne. “Can we let you up, without you cursing anyone?”
Mr Milne nodded. Atacama jumped off his chest. The kelpie hauled himself up.
Theo said, “Molly, are you ready to be a snake again?”
Molly moved towards Mr Milne, who flinched and stepped back. She smiled at him, showing her teeth. “Sssso,” she drew out the word, “sssso, will the two of you shake hands, and promise not to hunt each other or curse each other again?”
Innes said, “Yes, of course.” He stepped forward and held out his hand. “Dad, please. We can’t keep this up forever.”
“I can. You might not have the stamina for a long vendetta, but I’m a hunter and I can wait. First I’ll regain my full strength with creatures who understand vengeance. I hear there’s a gathering of those who feed on curses, so I might join them. Then once I have the strength to beat you in a fair fight, boy, I’ll hunt you down. I’ll stamp on all your little friends too!” He looked at Molly and thumped his foot on the ground, grinding his heel into the earth.
She smiled politely.
Mr Milne turned away and limped across the field.
Innes collapsed onto the ground and put his head in his hands. “I’ll have to watch my back every minute of every day from now on.”
“Not yet,” said Snib. “He said he was going to regain his strength. He won’t come after you for a while.”
&nb
sp; “That’s very trusting of you. It might be a trick. He might attack me again tonight…”
“We have a few tricks of our own,” said Theo.
“Yeah, the snake.” Innes laughed, hoarsely. “That was quite creepy, Molly, you rising up under our hooves like that. But well timed. What were you? You weren’t an adder, you were bigger and brighter.”
“I’ve no idea. Something that wanted to be moving over warmer drier ground. What was I, Theo?”
“I didn’t get a clear look at you, so I’m not sure. But if you become a snake again, be careful with your fangs. You were probably extremely venomous.”
Molly rubbed her cheeks. “I just struck out to scare him. Could I have killed him?”
“I don’t know. Just remember, snakes are more dangerous than hares.”
Innes sat up straighter and untucked his shirt to examine the bruises and grazes on his ribs. “I wouldn’t want to fight him when he’s fit and healthy. I couldn’t have held out much longer.”
Atacama said, “I’m already late for my shift. Will everyone be alright?”
They nodded.
“Then I’ll join you tomorrow for a bit of burglary!” The sphinx ran off.
“I can’t go home like this.” Innes touched a bruise on his face. “Mum will ask questions… I want to bring Dad home, safe and sane, before I tell her what I’ve done.”
Theo pulled him to his feet. “You often go on quests and get into fights. You don’t have to tell her who put that hoofprint on your cheek. Just look a bit embarrassed about it and she’ll assume you were doing something foolish, but she’ll never guess how foolish. Come on.”
Molly said, “I’ll come too. If snakes are what scare Mr Milne, I should walk Innes home.”
They crossed the field and walked through the quiet town to the riverbank where a grey mill-house leant over the water.
“Do you want to sleep in our spare bed, Theo, rather than go back to your cold empty library?” asked Innes. “I can lend you something more sensible than sandals for a journey to Ballindreich tomorrow as well.”
“Thanks.” Theo smiled. “If I look embarrassed about your bruises too, your mum can assume we’ve been leading each other astray and battling random monsters all day.”