Once she was the right way up, she took a deep breath and wriggled to the trunk. Then she hurried down.
After the first really wobbly steps it wasn’t so bad. Soon she was inside the tree and scrambling down the wooden steps, twisting and turning into the dark faster than was safe, racing down until, quite suddenly, she burst out onto the forest floor.
She looked round, gasping.
The Box lay on its side in a heap of leaves.
It was quite intact.
There was no sight or sound of Them.
But she knew they were probably watching.
She picked it up quickly and opened it and YES, there it was. She had been terrified it would be a mess of yolk and shell but it must be really strong.
Was there a crack?
She couldn’t tell in the dim green light. She shoved it in the bag and ran.
The way back through the tangled trees seemed shorter than before; in minutes she was in a more normal woodland, and it was hot, with shafts of sun all around her, and then she was out and running towards the lake and there was Plas-y-Fran in front of her, all its old stone golden and shining in the sun.
She stopped, breathless.
She had done it!
‘You’ve done WHAT!’
The Crow was perched on the soldiers’ fort in Tomos’s room of toys.
He stared at the Egg as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. He spluttered and gulped. ‘Its… Well … it can’t possibly… How…? I don’t… Goodness!’
Seren sat wearily on the chair by the table. She felt rather tired.
‘Seren, it’s fantastic! You were so brave!’ Tomos stared at the Egg, fascinated. He put out a finger towards it and the Crow almost screamed.
‘NO! Be careful! It’s so precious! If indeed it is the right one…’
‘It is,’ Seren said. ‘I got it from Them.’
The Crow blinked one jewel-bright eye sideways at her. Then it hopped closer. ‘From Them?’
Seren nodded. She was rather dreading what was coming.
‘But how did you get it? I mean They wouldn’t just give it you,’ Tomos said.
‘I … er … sort of asked Them for it.’
The Crow emitted a terrible groan.
‘And They just said yes?’ Tomos asked.
Seren raised her eyebrows. ‘Well…’
‘NO,’ the Crow said. ‘No! I’m not having this!’ It shook its head so hard feathers flew out. ‘I’ve told you a hundred times you never NEVER make requests of Them! They always want something in return, and there are two things They like best – as you well know – one is treasure and the other is a human child. So, please tell me, you foolish, foolish, foolish girl, that you didn’t make Them any sort of promise.’
Seren felt unhappy. She didn’t think she had ever seen the Crow so upset. She said quietly, ‘Just a very little one. Nothing at all really. It’s just … I had to do something. And I’m sorry we argued and that I said you deserved to be a clockwork bird. That was a nasty thing to say.’
The Crow drew itself up with dignity. ‘I’m sorry, too. I’m afraid it has led to a most dangerous situation.’
‘But aren’t you glad to have the Egg?’ Tomos jumped up. ‘I mean we can take it straight to the Swan and she will give you back your human shape and everything will be all right! That’s good, isn’t it?’
The Crow was silent. Then he nodded heavily. ‘Let’s hope so. Dear me, let’s hope so.’ He glanced at Seren sideways and she knew he was deeply worried. ‘Let’s hope we haven’t paid too high a price.’ Then he preened a feather thoughtfully. ‘Right. We leave at once. We need to be back by midnight. Tomos, you’ll bring the Box. And I also want three other things.’
‘What?’ Tomos breathed. ‘A sword? A compass?’
‘Silly boy. Those things are useless where we’re going. I want a mirror, a small glass pyramid…’
Tomos stared. ‘They don’t sound very useful.’
‘You know nothing about magic.’
‘What’s the third?’
The Crow looked at him sly and sideways.
‘A pin-cushion. Full of pins.’
Seren raced upstairs to wash her green hands and face.
Plas-y-Fran felt strange. The corridors were shivery and excited. All the windows were wide open, and little gusts of warm breezes lifted the gauzy curtains and creaked the doors.
As she passed the drawing room she saw it was beautifully dressed for the Midsummer Ball.
Hangings of yellow silk and blue damask drifted. All the paintings had been dusted and their gilt frames shone. Huge bunches of flowers – lavender and phlox and night-scented stock – stood in glass vases and perfumed the air. As she raced by, her small reflection flickered in polished furniture and mirrors and shiny cabinets.
She washed at top speed, pulled on clean boots and raced back down again, but as she hurtled past the side table in the hall a large letter in the tray caught her eye.
She stopped dead.
Then she went closer.
It was a creamy, heavy-looking envelope, thick with paper. It was addressed to Captain Jones, Plas-y-Fran, Urgent and Personal. In the bottom right hand corner the sender’s name was printed.
G.R. FREEMAN
Solicitor At Law
Staple Inn
London
Seren’s heart gave a leap. That had been her aunt’s lawyer. Why was he writing to Captain Jones? Was it about her?
Her hand crept towards the envelope but at that moment Mrs Villiers bustled out of the drawing room, her arms full of flowers. ‘Seren! Don’t touch anything! Everything is ready for the Ball. The first guests are expected in a few hours. Some are staying the night, you know.’
Seren jumped back. ‘Are they?’
‘You and Tomos will have supper in the schoolroom, and then you can come down when the music starts. Meanwhile, stay out of the way.’
Seren nodded. She started to hurry to the door. Then she turned, abruptly. ‘Thank you, Mrs Villiers.
‘Goodness. What for?’
‘For everything. Since I came.’
‘Well … I… That’s quite all right, Seren. Quite all right.’ Mrs Villiers seemed a little embarrassed. She hastily arranged the flowers in a vase.
‘Off you go now. No arguing.’
She swept up the envelope and carried it quickly away towards the Captain’s study.
Seren frowned. She walked slowly down the steps.
Outside, the summer afternoon was waning. The stable clock struck four. Tomos was jigging with impatience. ‘Come on! It’s time to go!’
He had a small knapsack on his back. ‘The Box is in here. And the other stuff.’ He whispered. ‘Let’s go. ‘
‘Where’s the Crow?’
‘Waiting outside.’
They flitted through the busy house. Everyone was so caught up in preparations that even Lady Mair didn’t notice them slip past the dining-room door, where she was inspecting the table.
On the terrace Seren hissed, ‘Where are you?’
‘Here.’ The Crow was a dark shape perched on the low stone wall. ‘Got everything?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sure?’
‘Yes!’
‘Well, let me see.’
Tomos opened the bag; the Crow peered in and rummaged. ‘Good. Now. We go fast and silent. And remember. This is a journey into a very strange place. Keep your wits about you. Don’t speak unless I tell you to. For heaven’s sake, don’t touch anything. And don’t,’ it glared at Seren, ‘promise anything!’
‘I won’t.’ She felt a little annoyed, but excited too.
The Crow flew. They hurried after it over the musky warmth of the summer lawns.
But just as they got to the gate into the park a small figure stepped out of the bushes in front of them and said, ‘You wait right there.’
Seren gasped. The Crow screeched to a halt. Tomos almost fell over.
Denzil said, ‘Where are you off to?’
He had the shotgun over his arm.
‘What are you doing with that?’ Seren stared.
‘Keeping an eye, bach, just keeping an eye.’ The small man looked at the Crow. ‘So. The time has come, has it? I think it’s about time we spoke, Sir, you and I.’
‘Yes.’ The Crow nodded. ‘Perhaps it is.’
There was another stir of branches and Seren saw Gwyn standing in the bushes behind, staring wide-eyed at the Crow.
‘Because I am not allowing Master Tomos and Miss Seren to be taken away anywhere,’ Denzil said firmly.
‘He’s not taking us, Denzil…’ Tomos began, but the Crow held up a wing to silence him.
‘You have no need to concern yourself, my man,’ the Crow said loftily. ‘I am highly experienced in magical matters, I can assure you, and…’
‘Assure all you like, sir.’ Denzil stood, stockily unmoved. ‘They will not be going anywhere unless I think it is safe.’
‘Please, Denzil!’ Seren stepped forward. ‘I haven’t got time to explain everything now but it’s really important we go! It’s to get the Crow back to his proper shape. We’ve got everything we need and we shouldn’t be in danger…’
‘There is always danger meddling with the faery people.’ Denzil shook his dark head. ‘You know that, Sir.’
‘I do.’ The Crow looked down its beak. ‘But let me tell you that this … disguise … is not who I actually am. In fact, I am a prince … well, professor … or rather…’ It caught Seren’s eye and cleared its throat guiltily. ‘…well, a schoolteacher. I am, Sir, a schoolteacher and so am well used to looking after children.’ Suddenly, it looked crestfallen, and its voice went small. ‘I’m not just a moth-eaten toy. Please don’t think that.’
‘I’m thinking you are much more than you seem. So maybe you should go alone.’
‘Er … unfortunately … due to my present position … well, shape … I am unable to carry the Egg.’
‘Egg?’ Gwyn whispered.
‘Listen.’ Seren was impatient. ‘We’ll be back by midnight. I promise! We have to go with him, Denzil, because he can’t do it by himself, and you have to stay here and guard the house because They will be coming to the Ball…’
The small man sighed heavily. ‘Indeed, Seren bach, I know that.’
‘Please, Denzil! Please trust me.’
For a long moment Denzil stood silent. Then he said, ‘If you are not back, Seren, if the Captain thinks you have run off and taken Tomos with you into danger, he will no longer want you here. Do you really want to risk all that you have at Plas-y-Fran for a stranger?’
Seren bit her lip. ‘The Crow’s not a stranger. I have to take the risk.’
‘Anyway,’ Tomos said stoutly. ‘I’m not being taken. I’m going because I want to.’
‘Very well.’ Denzil looked at the Crow and the Crow looked back at him. Finally he stepped forward. They were beak to nose. He nodded. ‘All right. But listen to me, Master Schoolmaster. If anything happens to Tomos or Seren I will hold you responsible. And I will seek you out. Because I am experienced in these matters also, my father and my father’s father both being dynion hysbys and men of craft. So beware, Sir.’
The Crow nodded. For a moment Seren thought he would say something mocking but when it spoke its voice was quiet. ‘I undertake to guard them with all my power.’
‘That is all I ask.’ Denzil stepped back. He glanced at Gwyn. ‘We’ll guard the Plas. This day is Midsummer and the longest day. A time of magic and music. A dangerous day. Come on, boy.’
Gwyn nodded. He whispered to Seren, ‘Take care.’
‘We will! See you later. At the Ball.’
Then they were out of the iron-hung gate and running across the lawn.
‘Which way?’
‘West,’ the Crow snapped. ‘Through the wood.’
9
A red boat
In the world of song and flight
Birds decide what’s wrong or right.
Seren was a little worried, remembering her encounter with Them among the trees, but this time the wood was empty and softly lit with golden afternoon light. They ran through glades of oak and under the great smooth boughs of beech, where the ground was bare underneath.
Beyond the wood was a gate in the wall. Beyond this, to left and right, a cart track ran between the fields. The Crow flapped left.
It was still very warm. Soon the Crow got tired. ‘I’ll have to ride on your shoulder, Seren. Or else my clockwork will run down.’
Seren nodded. As he flew down and settled himself, she looked up and saw that the whole of the sky in front of them was red, and that the track led down to a small river, running between willows.
‘Down there?’ Tomos said. ‘That’s the stream.’
‘Quite right,’ the Crow muttered.
‘So you do know the way?’
The Crow shrugged. ‘The other world is always very close. Turn a corner, cross a field, and you find it. You just have to want to. West is always a good way to start.’
The stream was clear. Weed streamed green along its shallow bed.
They scrambled down the bank and Seren said, ‘Yes, look. There!’
Two boats were tied alongside the bank. One was blue and one was painted red like a child’s toy, and each had two oars folded neatly in the bottom.
‘Blue,’ Tomos said at once.
‘Red,’ the Crow commanded.
They climbed in. ‘I want to row!’ Tomos and Seren said at the same time.
Seren grinned. She took an oar and Tomos took the other and they pushed the red boat away into the small stream and started to row. She had never done it before. It wasn’t at all easy. She kept missing the water altogether and splashing herself, and Tomos was no better. They giggled and the Crow got cross.
‘Why are you even bothering?’ it said. ‘The stream is taking us along quite fast enough.’
That was true. At first the water had flowed gently between the banks, but now Seren realised that it was faster and a lot deeper. Also, the trees on each side were closing in, so that the river ran through a green tunnel of branches.
A kingfisher watched them pass underneath its branch.
‘Is this right? How far do we have to go?’
‘Until we get there.’ Now that they had started the Crow seemed to be more uneasy. He perched on the stern and kept looking back over his shoulder.
‘What’s wrong?’ Seren asked.
She frowned and looked back too. The stream had twisted so she couldn’t see far, but she thought she heard, a long way behind, the swish of oars. ‘Do you think some of Them have got in that other boat?’
‘Maybe. We should have sunk it,’ the Crow muttered. ‘Why didn’t you think of that!’ He turned to face the front, and stared.
Ahead of them was no stream now but a full-sized river, and they were being swept along faster than they could row.
Suddenly the roar of the water was noisier.
Tomos called out something that sounded like, ‘Rooks!’
‘No time for birdwatching,’ the Crow said.
Tomos yelled again, and pointed. ‘There!’
Seren peered closer. ‘Not rooks,’ she murmured. ‘I think he means…’
‘ROCKS!’ Tomos screamed.
The boat slewed. Seren gave a cry. Everything was wrong; they were bumping up and down, flung sideways. She dropped her oar and it fell into the water; she grabbed over the side for it but it was already gone.
Tomos pulled her back.
The Crow was hunched down, wet and miserable. ‘Lord, how I hate adventures,’ he muttered.
Now the boat was quite out of control. They had to hold on tight as it whirled and sped past high banks hollowed with holes, under trees, out into deeper currents.
‘What can we do?’ Seren yelled.
‘Where’s the Egg?’ Tomos rummaged for it.
‘No! Don’t get it out! We’ll lose it. And…’ She stopped. Suddenly she could hear
a deep, thundering roar. It came from ahead, round a bend in the river, and it was getting louder all the time. ‘Oh no,’ she whispered.
The boat almost tipped over. It rounded the bend and the noise redoubled.
‘It’s a waterfall!’ Tomos yelled. He looked at her. ‘Seren. Can you swim?’
‘Not a stroke’, she whispered.
‘Neither can I,’ the Crow wailed.
The roar of the water was terrible. As the boat swirled closer to the falls they were deafened with it. Seren could barely hear what Tomos was shouting.
‘Jump! I’ll … you … safe…’
‘No!’ she yelled. ‘I can’t!’
She had never been so scared. And she was soaked, her hair plastered to her face.
The Crow was huddled in the bottom of the boat. ‘Fly away,’ she yelled at it. ‘Before we go over!’
The falls must be very close but there was nothing to see but spray and rainbows. The Crow took no notice of her. It was muttering something. It had its head in Tomos’s bag; it was talking but she couldn’t hear a word it was saying.
The Midnight Swan Page 7