Northwood

by Brian Falkner

  The balloon settled even lower. The scraping of the branches became louder. The balloon scuttled along on the tops of the trees, and then suddenly they were not floating anymore, but rolling and spinning along on the dense canopy that covered the forest.

  Everything inside the room tumbled around — the laundry basket, the box of balloons, the helium cylinder — as did Cecilia and Rocky.

  The big balloon ball rolled faster and faster along the canopy until suddenly, with a creaking of branches and a huge crash, they fell through a gap and came to a halt, wedged among the branches of an enormous black tree.

  Rocky was lying on top of her. Next to Cecilia’s head was the helium cylinder. She realized she was lucky not to have been hit by it as they rolled around like laundry in a clothes dryer.

  Rocky got off of her, and Cecilia sat up.

  “My word,” she said. “Are you okay?”

  Rocky was wandering around as if in a daze. He took a step, fell over, stood back up, took another step, fell over, and stood up again.

  “I’m all right,” he woofed. “Just a little dizzy.”

  Cecilia stood up and knew exactly what Rocky meant. The whole room seemed to be spinning, even though it wasn’t moving at all. She sat down for a moment to let the dizziness pass, then looked around.

  The tree that held them was not a type of tree that Cecilia recognized. The branches were thick and bulged out in strange places, like the muscular arms of a weightlifter. The leaves of the tree were not quite black, she saw, but a dark violet, and not thin like normal leaves, but thick like leather.

  The blue bird they had seen before was back now, peering into the balloon before zipping away again at high speed.

  After a moment, Cecilia stood up and tried to shake the balloon free by jumping up and down, but it was firmly wedged into the branches.

  “What should we do?” she said to Rocky, although she was really asking herself. “Should we stay here in the balloon or climb down into the forest?”

  Rocky just raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know either.

  “We’re probably safer in the balloon,” Cecilia said, thinking it over. “In case there are any wild animals like snakes or poisonous spiders or . . .” She made herself stop. There was no point in talking like that. She didn’t even know if there were any dangerous creatures in the forest. “But on the other hand, there is nothing to eat and drink here in the balloon, so we’re going to have to climb down sooner or later.”

  A thought occurred to her and she looked up, hoping to see the sky. But all she saw were the dark leaves of the tree canopy, and above that, the mist. That meant they were hidden from above.

  “Well, we can’t stay here forever,” she said. “So we might as well get on with it.”

  Rocky stared bravely at the forest around them. His nose twitched and his ears pricked up, as he tried to sense the hidden dangers. But if there were any, he could not detect them.

  “Let’s go,” he said, with a shake of his head.

  Cecilia ran her fingers through her hair. It had gotten very messy when they had tumbled over and over in the balloon. There’s no point in going off to face dark and unseen dangers if you don’t look your best, she thought.

  She opened the door of the balloon, which was on its side. The door only opened part way before a tree branch stopped it.

  She squeezed through the narrow gap, and climbed onto the branch.

  As she did so, the balloon shifted. She was afraid that without her weight it might lift off back into the sky with Rocky inside, but the tree held it firmly.

  Rocky carefully climbed out after her, and together they scrambled down. Because the branches were so thick and close together, it was almost as easy as going down a set of stairs.

  There was a gap at the bottom though, and Cecilia had to jump down to the ground. Rocky stayed on the branch and whimpered at her until she persuaded him to jump.

  “I’ll catch you,” she said, and Rocky jumped. Even though he was very light, the weight knocked Cecilia over backward and she sat down hard on her bottom with Rocky in her lap.

  She quickly got back to her feet and glanced around to try to find the best way to go.

  Rocky was sniffing at the ground and Cecilia saw that they were on a trail of some kind. It was the kind of trail that had been worn down by years and years of footprints. Or paw prints.

  A sound came surging out of the trees like a sudden gust of wind. It reverberated through the forest, making the air around them vibrate. It was not a human sound, nor that of any animal Cecilia had ever heard before. Rocky froze in his tracks and the skin on Cecilia’s head prickled.

  It was a ferocious roar, rumbling from deep in the throat of some unknown creature.

  9

  THE CLEARING

  THE ROAR CAME from behind them. Before Cecilia had too much time to think about it, it came again . . . closer this time.

  “I think we should get going,” she said quite calmly, considering the circumstances.

  Rocky looked up at her and nodded.

  They began to walk quickly, like a girl and a dog who were out for a walk in a forest and who were not at all terrified of some huge creature stalking them.

  There was another roar, closer yet again, and they began to walk a little faster, then to run. Cecilia tried not to panic, because she once read that people who panic usually end up much worse off than they were in the first place.

  The trees slipped past on either side — a thick, impenetrable wall of interlaced tree trunks and vines. There was no way to go but forward. The path was quite smooth underfoot, except for the occasional tree root, and Cecilia tripped only once. Rocky was immediately by her side, nudging her and licking at her face as she regained her feet and stumbled forward into another run.

  The smell of the forest was in her nostrils now: a dank, heavy smell of decayed plants and animal droppings.

  An opening in the wall of trees appeared suddenly to their right and another to their left. Two new paths. They stopped, unsure which way to go.

  Another roar and Rocky took off down the path to the right, barking back at her to follow him. Without knowing why, she trusted him, and ran after him.

  The trail came to a fork, and Rocky, with a sniff in both directions, chose the left. There were more side passages in the maze of dense trees and each time Rocky seemed to know which to take.

  “How do you know where to go?” Cecilia said, panting, but he just barked at her to hurry up. The path they were on came to an end at a T-junction with another, much wider trail. Rocky stopped here, confused, sniffing in both directions.

  “This way,” Cecilia said, pointing to the right without being sure why.

  The wide path seemed well trodden and she thought she could see a clearing ahead. Something told her that the clearing was a safe place and she ran even faster with Rocky at her heels.

  There was another thunderous roar from behind her and she could hear the creature, whatever it was, crashing along the path from which they had just come.

  Then they were in the clearing, looking around, trying to work out what to do and where to go next. But there were high rock walls on three sides of the clearing: impenetrable cliff faces soared into the sky, with deep, shadowy crevices that peered down at them through creeping vines.

  Except for the entrance to the path behind them, the fourth side of the clearing was a solid wall of black trees.

  The clearing was not a place of safety, as Cecilia had thought. It was a trap.

  Near the path was a round wall, a circle of stones about as high as her waist. It was very old and covered in weeds. Several of the stones were out of place or lying on the ground beside the wall. Two crumbled pillars stood at either side of the circle.

  She rushed over to it, thinking they might be able to hide inside it, but all she saw was a hole in
the ground, dropping away into blackness. Her hand dislodged a small piece of stone and she heard a clunk as it bounced off the wall before landing somewhere far below with a plop.

  It was a well. And that meant that people had once lived near here. But judging by the state of the well, it must have been a long time ago.

  She heard another roar and glanced back up the wide trail behind them, catching a glimpse of something emerging from the side passage.

  She couldn’t make out its shape, black against the black trees of the forest, darkness against darkness, a huge blur in the gloom. But she sensed it turning in their direction and she began to back away slowly, knowing it was hopeless.

  There was no way out of the clearing, except by the path from which they had just come. The same path that the dark creature was advancing along.

  She reached out a hand and put it on Rocky next to her.

  He barked and moved forward. The dog who had been afraid to get in the balloon basket, and afraid to jump down out of the balloon attic in the tree, advanced bravely to challenge the approaching nightmare.

  “No,” Cecilia said, knowing it was no use. One extremely thin Samoyed against a wild jungle beast.

  “No,” she said again, trying to control her terror.

  Another sound intruded. A sliding, scraping sound. And to Cecilia’s absolute astonishment, she heard a woman’s voice.

  “Get in here, quickly!”

  10

  BLACK LIONS AND BLACK TREES

  BY NOW THERE is a very good chance that you are wondering about the mysterious Northwood forest with its strange black trees and the black lions that lurk there. There is also a very good chance that you have guessed that the fearsome dark beast that was chasing Cecilia and Rocky through the forest was indeed one of those lions (which is a very good guess).

  But what you don’t know is what exactly the lions are, or where they came from. Neither did Cecilia.

  Many years ago there were no lions in Northwood.There were no black lions, nor golden-brown ones (which is the more usual color). There were no pink lions, green lions, or purple polka-dotted lions.

  No lions at all.

  But now there are lions. Nobody knows how many, but they are there, all right. Large, dangerous, beastly black lions.

  Most lions have golden-brown fur, which is very useful when you are hunting for antelope or zebra on an African savanna, which is also a golden-brown color. But the black lions came from a dense jungle deep in Persia.

  Few people have ever been to that jungle, and even fewer have returned. In the darkest depths of this overgrown Persian jungle, the lions’ black fur is the perfect camouflage.

  The lions were discovered by a famous British explorer, Sir Henry Layard. He was the first person who saw them and actually lived to tell the tale.

  Even if you see a black lion and survive the encounter, you are unlikely to be able to catch the beast . . . which is why you never see black Persian lions in zoos.

  So exactly how Mr. Jingles managed to capture two black lion cubs is still a mystery. But he did. He brought them back from Persia in specially made cages of hardened titanium. He knew that having such rare creatures in his safari park would make him famous around the world. He had enclosures prepared, lit by special lights and surrounded by thick glass walls, so people would be able to see the lions safely. With great care and skill, the two lion cubs (now named Prowler and Growler after a competition in the local paper) were released into their enclosure.

  They stayed there just one day. The two lions escaped from their escape-proof enclosure, leaving behind crushed, crumbled glass and mangled metal bars.

  They headed for the nearest jungle. The closest thing they could find was Northwood.

  Prowler was a boy lion and Growler was a girl lion, and within a few years there was talk of new black lion cubs being seen at the entrance to the forest, stalking in and out of the thick wall of black trees.

  Like the black lions, the tarblood trees that make up the strange forest of Northwood are very rare. With their rigid, toughened bark as hard as rock, and their sticky, tar-like sap, they are of little use to anyone. They can’t be used for wood or shelter, and certainly not for decoration.

  The sap, if you can drill through the outer shell and extract it, is heavy and black and burns fiercely. Yet if you touch their bark, they feel colder than normal trees, which is odd, because you would think that black trees would absorb the heat of the sun. But these trees don’t.

  At night, tarblood trees absorb moisture out of the air. The next day, that moisture slowly evaporates, cooling down the tree in the same way that human beings cool down by sweating. This evaporation creates a dense mist. So if you have a lot of tarblood trees growing close to each other, like in Northwood, they will always be surrounded by fog — even on a hot day.

  So you see that many of the things about Northwood that seem to be quite unnatural are quite easily explained.

  Northwood is really no stranger than some other peculiar things in the natural world, such as the Dumbo octopus or the giant crabs of Guam, once you know the facts.

  Cecilia was about to learn these facts, and many other amazing things as well.

  But it was still just the very beginning of her education. For there were things waiting to be discovered, deep in Northwood Forest, that went far beyond anything she could even dream of.

  11

  A SURPRISE MEETING

  “QUICKLY!” THE WOMAN said again.

  Cecilia spun around in astonishment, almost tripping over her feet, but she regained her balance just in time. A door had opened in the solid cliff face behind them. More precisely, a slab of rock with a metal post down the middle had rotated, leaving a gap on each side.

  A woman stood in the opening, beckoning frantically to Cecilia and Rocky. Rocky hurled his body at the woman. Cecilia cried “No!” thinking that he was attacking her, but he just started licking her and jumping up with his paws on her chest. His way of saying thank you, Cecilia thought.

  Cecilia followed them through the door, and it slammed shut behind them. They were in a rock-lined passageway lit by a single lantern hanging from a rusted metal hook on the wall.

  “Come with me, Cecilia,” the woman said. Cecilia didn’t even think to ask how she knew her name. She just stood there shaking a little bit until the woman knelt down in front of her and drew her close, wrapping her arms around her and holding her tightly. Cecilia burst into tears.

  It was mainly relief, Cecilia thought, now the immediate danger was past. All the worry about drifting into the forest, and her parents, and Mr. Proctor attacking her house, and everything that had happened with Rocky . . . it was all a little much, really.

  She cried for what seemed like ages, but the woman did not hurry her. She just let Cecilia cry on her shoulder until the worst of the sobbing had passed. Then she handed her a small piece of cloth to dry her eyes and wipe her nose.

  They followed the woman up some stairs and through more passageways, then up more stairs to a large room. Cecilia had the sense that it was a greeting room, where visitors to this place were welcomed.

  There were long brass curtain rods high on the walls around the room, although any curtains they had once carried had long since rotted away. The rods themselves were green and mottled.

  Cecilia sat and stared at the walls around her, her chest heaving every now and then with one of those slowpoke sobs that come long after the rest have passed. She could tell that this place was old. Very old. It was a place from times long gone. A number of doorways led out of the room, some blocked by heavy wooden doors. The wood was old and gray, cracked in places, and the brass hinges, like the curtain rods, were streaked with green.

  There was a narrow window behind her, little more than a slit in the rock, and when she looked out of it she could see down into the clearing.

 
The creature, whatever it was, was nowhere to be seen.

  The creeping vines she had seen from the clearing crawled across the open face of the window, hiding it from view, which is why she hadn’t noticed it earlier. She wondered how many other levels there were in the cliff face, and how many other concealed windows.

  The room reminded her of something, although it took her a few moments to realize what. It was a turret, like those in the castles in books about kings and queens and knights and princesses.

  That was when she realized finally where they were, and it made her gasp and clap her hands to her cheeks.

  It was a fortress cut into the face of the cliff.

  She was looking out over the battlements of an ancient castle.

  ***

  Cecilia drank a mug of something sweet that tasted like hot cocoa, but wasn’t. The mug was made of a gray metal and was embossed with crossed lightning bolts.

  She held the mug with one hand and kept the other on Rocky, unwilling to let him go in case he somehow disappeared. Or in case he turned out not to be real. That didn’t seem very likely, but it had been a strange day. He was the only thing in this unreal world that seemed real.

  The tall, thin woman who had made her drink returned with a bowl of water and scraps of some kind of sausage for Rocky. He sniffed at the food once and then wolfed it down, despite having had a good-sized meal only a few hours before.

  The woman sat down on a wooden stool in front of Cecilia and crossed her legs, resting her hands on one knee. She stared at Cecilia.

  Cecilia took another sip of the sweet, sticky drink, and looked back.

  “Drink up, it’ll make you feel better,” the woman said.

  Just those words made Cecilia feel better, because it was the sort of thing Jana would say when Cecilia was sick. It made her feel safe and a little bit at home.