‘So you have no idea where Rebecca is?’
‘No,’ said Johnny truthfully. ‘The last I saw her was when she was making for the hills when the guy on the farm trike couldn’t get across that gully.’
He felt relieved to be able to tell the honest truth. Had he really known Becky’s whereabouts, he realised, it would have been a real problem whether to tell Dr Faunus or not.
‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ Johnny said.
‘What was I?’
‘It was you on that farm trike. Why did you try to run us down?’
Dr Faunus looked at him in astonishment.
‘Of course it wasn’t me! Whatever gave you that bizarre idea?’
Johnny shrugged. ‘I sort of had the impression you kind of needed Becky …’
The doctor glanced at him shrewdly. ‘Well, I don’t deny that I did need her and still do. For a time I needed her desperately. But I should hardly have to point out that I need her alive, not dead.’
‘Then?’
‘Oh, I have a fair idea who the mystery rider is, and that’s why it’s very important to find Rebecca before the rider does.’
Johnny looked at him expectantly. However, it was clear that Dr Faunus did not intend to reveal the identity of the rider, for he changed the subject abruptly, saying, ‘We’d better move on. I have some other friends in these woods I am very anxious to find.’
Still shivering, Johnny followed Dr Faunus from the glade with the pool and into the wooded slopes once more. The creature seemed to know exactly where he was headed although the light was ever fading and the route he took was wild and circuitous. It was difficult for Johnny to keep up and he wondered again at the doctor’s incredible agility and fitness.
The only good thing about the pace he set was that it quickly warmed Johnny up and before long, despite his still sodden clothes, he did not feel chilled at all. He also felt so much cleaner and no longer so contaminated by his ordeal in the hen house.
All the same, the pace was exhausting and from time to time he’d call pathetically to the bounding doctor to either slow down or take a rest. By and large the doctor ignored these pleas, but as the plaintive appeals grew more insistent he did stop, then turned to say sternly to his young companion, ‘I’m not hurrying for the sake of hurrying, you know.’
Johnny looked up at him, panting. Dr Faunus was standing on a rocky outcrop keenly scanning the trees below, the trees through which they’d just climbed.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve any notion of just how angry Silenus will be when he finds you’re no longer shut in his hen house?’
Johnny shook his head.
‘I can tell you,’ said Dr Faunus grimly, ‘he’ll be beside himself with rage. More than that, he’ll be utterly determined to get you back and he is an excellent hunter. We will have left a trail like a main highway for him to follow, especially given how much of that chicken run you were carrying with you!’
Johnny blanched. He’d guessed that Silenus would not have simply shrugged and laughed when he’d found him gone, but he really hadn’t wanted to think about how angry and determined he’d be in pursuit. Now he remembered the huge galloping strides the man was capable of as he ran away from the farm trike. Dr Faunus was right. If Silenus was on their trail and he surely would be, then they couldn’t afford the luxury of stops and rests. They’d already spent a fair time at that pool.
‘We’d better head on,’ Johnny said nervously.
‘My opinion precisely,’ said Dr Faunus and abruptly turned away and leapt from the outcrop into the trees once more.
Johnny followed him with renewed urgency. He had to really concentrate in the deepening darkness. He managed to ride over one threatening stitch, and from time to time he even found himself gaining on the doctor.
Unexpectedly they burst into another large glade with yet another forest pool, but this time the pool was wider and much bigger. It was fed by a tall waterfall that fell over a bluff at the far end like a rippling silver curtain. Had he not been so frightened of Silenus possibly breathing down their necks at any moment, Johnny would have liked to stop to take in its beauty in the moonlight. The pool was beautiful enough, a dark mirror surrounded by mossy rocks, but the waterfall was amazing. It fell over a high green wall of moss-covered limestone into a lovely mist of its own creation.
Dr Faunus hurried right to the rocks at the water’s edge then stopped, one arm stretched out for Johnny to stop as well. The doctor looked from side to side, attentive to any movement, listening for any noise. All was still; all was silent but for the distant cry, here and there, of a forest bird.
Dr Faunus turned and whispered, ‘We will walk across the pool to the waterfall. Try to walk on the rocks and don’t disturb any mud or sediment.’
Johnny nodded. He needed no second warning.
He had no idea why Dr Faunus thought walking across the pool would be a good idea, but he guessed it might have something to do with putting Silenus off their trail.
Carefully, gingerly, they made their way through the water, trying desperately to leave only ripples in their wake. The pool was shallow enough and the water crystal-clear at first, so it was easy to step from rock to rock leaving no trace of their path for the keen eyes of Silenus to find. However, as they drew closer to the waterfall, the surface of the water became more rippled, broken, and the increasingly dense mist made navigation difficult. The water was also deeper and the bottom less even. Dr Faunus now pushed through with less concern about whatever he may have been churning up, so Johnny did likewise, reasoning that the mist and the weight and violence of the falling water would quickly wipe out any evidence of their progress.
He presumed that Dr Faunus, having confused their pursuer, would now swing either to the left or right and climb up the rocks on either side.
Instead, and to Johnny’s surprise, and then astonishment, he waded towards the very centre of the falling curtain of water and then pushed through it and disappeared.
This was so unexpected that Johnny, finding himself suddenly alone, felt momentarily apprehensive. He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see the huge figure of Silenus climbing over the lip of the hill. Slightly relieved he turned again and hurried towards the waterfall and, following the doctor, pushed his way through the curtain of water to the other side.
He found himself in a narrow defile that looked to be the entrance to a large cavern. As he accustomed himself to the dim light, he could see Dr Faunus waiting for him just ahead.
‘It is unlikely Silenus will find us here,’ he said, ‘and even if he does I know how to deal with him. All the same, I’d prefer to be a little further away from his twitching nostrils.’
Johnny nodded. He couldn’t agree more. All the same, he did not understand how they could get further away. However big the cavern was, surely they were trapped in a cave protected only by a wall of water.
He was surprised, then, when Dr Faunus crooked a finger at him and said, ‘Follow me!’
The doctor led him deeper into the gloom towards the rear of the cavern. It was only then that Johnny realised that the gleaming limestone walls somewhat disguised a narrow passage. They passed along this passage for some way before Johnny became aware that the darkness, which at no stage had become pitch black, was lightening somewhat. Then he could see that they were, in fact, walking towards a source of light. After a few metres more, they stepped into a large spacious area lit by moonlight from above through a circular opening fringed with shadowy ferns, and within the cavern by a number of burning oil lamps.
The chamber, for that was what it appeared to be, was deserted, despite the glowing lamps. There were pieces of rustic furniture, tables, chairs and the like and around the perimeter of the walls there were rolls of what looked to be bedding.
Johnny looked at Dr Faunus in surprise.
‘You knew about this place?’
The doctor nodded. ‘Oh, yes … There are many such in the woods of Arcady, and I know them
well. I know them all well.’
There was such wistfulness in his tone that Johnny glanced at him curiously.
‘I never thought to see this place again,’ murmured the doctor.
Johnny raised his eyes to the ring of stars high above. ‘What about me?’ he demanded. ‘What about Becky and me? Will we ever see our place again? You must know how to get here. You must know how we can get back.’
Dr Faunus looked at him bleakly. ‘I have no idea,’ he said, ‘no idea at all.’
‘You must!’
The doctor shrugged. ‘I have no idea why you’re here, either,’ he said. ‘I imagine you’re here for a purpose and that when that purpose is fulfilled you may be returned.’
‘May be returned?’
‘Who knows? I mean, it could be that your purpose is to end up in Silenus’s belly. In which case …’
‘You can’t be serious!’
‘Who can know?’ asked Dr Faunus mildly. ‘In any event, there are friends of mine to find and I must summon them.’
Johnny felt that his problems were no longer of any interest to the doctor and he felt slightly resentful. The doctor walked across the room to a large cabinet. There was an odd-looking object on top that Johnny vaguely recognised from a picture somewhere. It looked to be a series of tubes of bamboo or something like that, each tube longer than the next.
Dr Faunus turned to face Johnny before putting his lips to the even row of tubes.
Shortly afterwards Johnny Cadman heard the most hauntingly beautiful music he had ever experienced.
Becky struggled in the firm grip, but soon realised it was useless. She was being held by one arm and the assailant’s other arm was wrapped around her neck. This meant that she could not have seen her attacker even if there had been enough light, and it also meant that when she struggled, the grip around her neck tightened and she feared being strangled.
‘Where is the flute?’ a voice whispered urgently.
‘Oomph!’
Realising that the stranglehold was preventing Becky from saying anything, her attacker relinquished the grip around her neck but still gripped both shoulders tightly.
Becky shook her head and gasped at the air, coughing and distressed.
‘The flute?’ insisted the voice.
Becky pointed to the cottage.
‘Inside?’
Becky nodded, swallowing.
‘Where inside?’
Becky struggled to find her voice. What she found was a hoarse whisper. ‘There’s a side room. We slept there. I hid the flute under some skins we used for blankets.’
The grip on her shoulders relaxed somewhat, but there was no other response to this information.
Becky, meanwhile, was thinking as quickly as her circumstances would allow. It seemed the motorcyclist was mainly concerned with the flute. She had been chased, not on some purposeless malevolent whim, but because somehow the motorcyclist knew she had possession of the flute.
All at once and despite the violence of her seizure, Becky felt less threatened by the figure behind her.
‘Let me go,’ she begged. ‘I swear I won’t try to run away.’
Who was it? Their first thought was that the rider had been Dr Faunus. But this no longer seemed likely. Dr Faunus had never expressed any homicidal desire for the flute. Quite the reverse, he was more concerned that Becky should play the flute, that she should play the strange music that somehow was able to bring him back to life and vigour.
However, the motorcyclist had to be somebody who knew about the flute, and somebody who knew Becky had the flute.
If it was not Dr Faunus, then it could only be one other person.
Hester Nye, the doctor’s forbidding housekeeper.
Suddenly it did make a crazy kind of sense. From the first, the woman had been suspicious and aggressive. The doctor himself had been nervous of her. Becky sensed that his rejuvenation was not something that would have pleased Hester Nye, and she sensed that the doctor felt this too. In fact, from the way he spoke of her, she seemed rather more a jailor than a caregiver.
Although the hands remained on her shoulders, the grip relaxed even more. While Hester Nye, if she were the one, had made no reply to Becky’s plea, Becky felt an understanding of sorts had been reached.
‘Can I trust you to get me the flute?’ the voice asked.
‘You could, if I were going inside,’ whispered Becky, ‘but wild horses wouldn’t get me inside that place.’
‘Why not?’ The tone was surprised. ‘You were there last night?’
‘It’s a long story,’ whispered Becky. She shivered. ‘Look,’ she added, ‘could we talk somewhere a little further away from the cottage. I’m really nervous about being so close. I mean …’
‘Of course,’ said the voice, ‘we’ll move back behind the trike.’
Becky would have preferred another hundred metres or so, but any distance would do.
One of the hands let go, but the other remained loosely on her shoulder as they backed away and then cautiously made their way into the deeper darkness and eventually sank to the ground on the far side of the farm trike. The motorcyclist had apparently decided that Becky had no intention of running off at this point and no longer bothered holding on to her.
Becky now felt confident to peer through the darkness at her assailant. There was little to see. The black-clad body gleamed a little in the starlight. She could see nothing of her face. It could, indeed, have been masked.
Nevertheless, Becky said, ‘I think I know who you are.’
‘You do?’
‘I think you’re Hester Nye.’
‘Do you?’
‘Dr Faunus’s housekeeper?’
‘Well,’ said the woman dryly, ‘it seems you do know my name, but I think you’re a long way from knowing who I am …’
Becky didn’t reply. Hester Nye’s answer was cryptic. Somehow it reminded her of something the faun Sylvester had said when she’d been freaked out by her strange reflection at the mysterious wellspring. What was it? Something about her face not reflecting who she really was. Now this woman was saying the same thing about her name.
‘Have you been here long?’ asked Becky.
‘Long enough.’
‘Were you waiting for me?’
‘I thought you might return, if only to find the boy again.’
‘That’s why I’m here,’ whispered Becky. ‘And I’m scared about what I might find.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Is Silenus home?’
‘I’m sure he’s not.’
‘Really sure? There’s a light.’
‘Absolutely sure. I rode the bike up to the cottage but there’s been no sign of him.’
Becky was relieved that the drunken goatherd wasn’t in, but worried about what that meant for Johnny.
‘What is this long story, then?’ Hester Nye asked. ‘What is frightening you?’
Becky told her of meeting the fauns and how they’d talked about Silenus and his appetites. She told her of the delicious stew they’d been given to eat, a stew she’d been horrified to learn probably contained the faun Sylvander. Then, shivering slightly again, Becky told Hester Nye how Silenus had seized Johnny under one arm. ‘It probably meant nothing,’ she whispered, ‘but it was just the way a farmer would grab a lamb or a piglet. I can’t get the picture out of my head.’
‘Well, I haven’t seen either of them,’ said Hester Nye.
‘What does that mean?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ said the woman. ‘But are you brave enough to slip in and get that flute? I can stand guard and if necessary make sure Silenus is diverted.’
‘I think so,’ whispered Becky. ‘But what about Johnny?’
‘I don’t know that we can do anything about him until we know where he is,’ said Hester Nye matter-of-factly.
Becky nodded in the darkness. It was true enough. He could be anywhere, or rather anywhere Silenus was. Unless … No, that was unlikely. She
gave a terrified little laugh. Johnny was too scrawny anyway. Silenus wouldn’t have …
‘Well?’ Hester Nye asked.
Becky shrugged. ‘Okay,’ she said, and then added, ‘why is the flute so important to you anyway?’
‘I would have thought that was obvious.’
‘Well, I know it does weird things.’
‘It does dangerous things.’
‘Dangerous?’
‘You’ve seen what it’s done.’
‘To the old man, to Dr Faunus?’
‘He’s not an old man.’
Becky was silent. The woman was right. Even when Dr Faunus looked like an old man, he wasn’t a man. He was something else, something with the legs of a goat. But why was his rejuvenation dangerous?
‘We don’t blame you, young lady,’ said Hester Nye. ‘You are not to blame. You were an instrument only. But please know that what you have done has unleashed great danger, and we are very unhappy.’
Becky was silent. So she was an instrument? She was reminded of those times when she first put her lips to the flute and the strange feeling she’d had that she wasn’t playing the flute at all; that it was playing her.
Then something else Hester Nye said registered with her. We don’t blame you, young lady and we are very unhappy.
Who were these we?
Somewhat reassured by Hester Nye that Silenus was not in his cottage, Becky approached it cautiously and stood at the door. Even in the darkness the white bones of the pathway shone palely and, given what she now knew, suddenly had a more frightening meaning, shaking her confidence. The windows were not shuttered and there was that glow of yellow lantern light. But slightly more promising, there was no sound of singing or concertina-playing. Becky put her ear to the door. She could not discern any movements at all from within, or any snoring. Satisfied that the cottage was either empty or that somehow Silenus was deliberately lying doggo, an extremely remote possibility, she carefully lifted the latch and pushed at the door.
The house was utterly quiet. Slightly more reassured, she entered and immediately made her way to the anteroom where she and Johnny Cadman had slept.
The Enchanted Flute Page 17