She looked up.
The sun had set.
The sky was darker, and the first stars were coming out.
The path had narrowed; now it ran between high hedges. Swooping in front, the Crow landed awkwardly. Then it looked back, its head cocked.
‘What?’ Seren gasped, catching up and holding her side.
‘Ssssh!’ The Crow listened intently. Then it frowned. ‘Someone is still following us.’
Seren couldn’t hear a thing. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Totally. I can hear footsteps. Steady and swift.’
‘Who can it be?’ Tomos came close; for a moment they all listened until Seren thought she could hear something too.
‘Is it Them? From the other boat?’ she whispered.
‘Who else could it be? They want that Egg back. They want me to stay a bird for ever.’ The Crow scowled. ‘Well, that’s never going to happen. At once, please, Tomos. The pin-cushion!’
Now Seren could definitely hear something walking soft and stealthy through the dark. ‘Quick!’ she hissed. ‘Hurry up!’
Tomos had the pin-cushion out. He turned his back and threw it over his shoulder, at the very same moment that a tall, dark figure turned the corner.
Instantly a thicket of thorns filled the lane.
It was so high it couldn’t be climbed, and so thick and tangled it couldn’t be seen through. Black sharp thorns, spiny as pins, big as corkscrews, sprouted out everywhere.
‘HA! Let Them get through THAT!’ the Crow smirked. It dusted its wings together with satisfaction and turned. ‘Let’s go.’
Seren turned too. Then she stopped. A faint muffled shout of dismay had come from the other side of the thorn thicket. For a moment she hesitated. It didn’t actually sound like Them. But then she remembered that They were full of all sorts of tricks. You could never be too careful.
She ran after Tomos and the Crow.
The path led them down into a dry ditch and then up and up onto a grassy hill. Now they were running on open turf under a sky that was definitely full of stars, and far off in the east the moon was rising: a silver globe.
Against it, on the very top of the hill, something dark was sitting.
Tomos slowed, cautious. ‘What’s that?’
The Crow scrambled up onto Seren’s shoulder and stared. ‘Not sure. Better go carefully.’
They climbed the rounded hill. At the top was a barrow, humped against the sky, and sitting on top of the barrow, watching them come, was a hare.
The hare was brown. Its long ears lay flat to its head. Its legs were powerful and built for speed. But what fascinated Seren were its eyes, huge and round and positioned on each side of its head as if it could see all around itself, even behind.
As if it could see the past and the future.
The silver moon reflected in its stare, the hare watched them come.
When they got close, Seren stopped. ‘Hello,’ she said.
The hare was silent.
‘Maybe you can help us. We’re looking for a garden. And we’re in a bit of a hurry.’
The hare just stared.
‘It’s the garden of the Midnight Swan,’ Seren said. She hadn’t been sure about saying that. She thought the hare might just bolt in panic, like the birds had done. But it didn’t move, except for the slightest twitch of one ear.
‘Come on.’ The Crow turned away in disgust. ‘This is just a stupid creature that doesn’t…’
‘Down the well,’ the hare said.
Seren shivered. Its voice was harsh and silvery. It made her feel cold just to listen to it.
‘I’m sorry? Did you say down the…?’
‘Well.’ The hare was so still it was just a silhouette against the moon.
‘Thank you,’ Seren said, not knowing what else to say.
‘Also…’
‘Yes?’
‘Beware.’
‘Beware? Beware of what?’
‘Everything.’
Tomos whispered, ‘He doesn’t say much, does he?’
Seren nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she said again.
‘Pleasure.’ The hare remained staring at them.
But the Crow wasn’t satisfied. ‘You’re not actually being very helpful. Everything? And how can a garden be down a well? It’s hardly likely. It could all be some kind of trap.’
The hare didn’t even blink.
‘Please yourself,’ it said. Then it raised its head and stared at the moon.
‘Is it far, this well?’ The Crow demanded.
But the hare didn’t answer at all. And when Seren looked into its eyes she saw they were filled with the silver glory of the moon, and for a moment all she wanted to do was stay there, too, and stare and stare at the alien, cratered surface, so that its brilliant light filled all her eyes and her head and her brain and…
‘Seren!’ Tomos whispered.
She blinked.
The Crow was already stalking down the other side of the hill in disgust.
‘Don’t just stand there. Come on.’
Seren followed but she couldn’t help looking back. The hare had not moved. And if it could see into the future…
‘Are they going to send me away?’ she whispered.
The hare’s eyes were pools of moonlight. For a moment she thought it hadn’t heard her, but then it said softly, ‘There is no such place as away.’
She didn’t know what that meant, but it was strangely comforting. She was scared to ask any more, and turned and hurried after Tomos and the Crow. All the way down the dark slope the grass was soft and springy under her feet, and tiny pale flowers studded the hillside, and at the bottom, just as the hare had said, was the well.
Seren and Tomos approached it cautiously.
It stood alone in the empty grass, an ancient, mossy circular wall, with a few moths and damselflies flitting above it.
They leaned over and looked down.
It was utterly black, and there was an eerie drip, drip, drip from far down in the depths.
‘We have to go down there?’ Tomos wondered. ‘Yuk.’
The well took his words and whispered them back at him, round and round and down and down, yuk yuk yuk yuk yuk, until it seemed that there were a hundred voices clustered at the bottom, all murmuring back.
Seren shrugged. She didn’t like the look of it either. But she climbed up on the wall and swung her legs over.
‘Be careful, girl!’ the Crow snapped.
‘There’s a ladder down the inside.’
Her feet found the top rung and then the next, and she put her weight on them slowly. They looked like rusty old iron but they seemed strong enough. Seren twisted round and started to climb down.
After a few rungs she said, ‘It’s wet and horrible. And dark.’
Her own voice sounded strange and hollow.
‘Wait for me.’ The Crow fluttered down and onto her shoulder.
Seren rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand.
This looked scary.
As she climbed down everything got darker. The circle of sky above shrank and then, when Tomos swung himself over and started to climb down too, dust and dirt showered all over her. Her hands slipped on the wet powdery rust; her fingers were red with it.
She was out of breath.
‘Interesting mosses,’ the Crow remarked. ‘Homalothecium Camptothecium sericeum if I’m not mistaken.’
Seren gritted her teeth. His talons were gripping her shoulder so tight it hurt.
Down and down. The circular walls closed in. Drips soaked her face and clothes. The stink of stagnant water made her feel sick.
She was so tired she wanted to stop, but there was nowhere to stop so she just had to keep going. Just when she felt her arms were so stiff she couldn’t hold on any more she noticed something.
It was getting lighter.
‘Of course,’ the Crow said in its lecturing voice, ‘countries at the bottom of a well are not that unusual. In the Celtic and German
ic mythologies they happen all the time. They…’
‘Be quiet,’ Seren whispered. Because suddenly she was not climbing down, but up!
How had this happened?
She was still going the same way, but now that way was definitely up, and the light was above her, and the dark well below, and it was harder to drag her weight up and her arms ached.
It was so odd it made her dizzy to think about it.
But a silvery timeless light was around her now. She could smell flowers, a rich overpowering scent of roses and lavender. The Crow gave a kek kek of excitement. ‘We’re near the garden! I know it!’
Then Seren’s face came out into the light. She gave a whoop and pulled herself over the lip of the well and collapsed into the grass.
Tomos fell next to her.
The Crow hopped off.
For a moment they all gasped and panted. Then Tomos stared. ‘I don’t understand. We’re back where we started!’
‘No.’ The Crow looked around at the grassy hill and the moonlit sky. ‘We’re not quite. It’s upside down. Inside out. Though I’m not sure which way is west.’
‘You’ll have to follow me.’
The Crow turned. ‘What?’
‘I didn’t say anything.’ Seren looked at Tomos. ‘What do you mean, follow you?’
Tomos was checking the Box was safe in his satchel. He looked surprised. That wasn’t me.’
‘Well, it wasn’t me,’ Seren said.
‘Nor me,’ the Crow snapped.
‘It was me.’
They all looked at each other.
Then they looked down.
Seren knelt, and parted the high grass.
‘About time,’ the tiny voice said crossly. ‘I’ve been waiting here ages.’
11
Zigzag cracks
Lake and roses, tower and bell,
is it time to break the spell?
A small yellow mouse sat among the grass stalks.
‘Hello,’ Seren said. She had decided that it would be what she always said to talking beasts from now on.
‘Good evening,’ the mouse said, politely.
The Crow hopped nearer and inspected the mouse closely with its bright blue eye.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ the mouse snapped.
‘About what?’
‘Eating me.’
‘Kek kek,’ the Crow said, annoyed. ‘I can’t stop thinking about it, but unfortunately I’m totally unable to do it. Luckily for you.’
‘Good.’ The mouse’s voice was as tiny as it was, but immensely self-assured. ‘Of course, I’m under the protection of the Swan. So it would be a really bad idea. Well, there’s no time to lose. But first, did you know you’re being followed?’
‘WHAT!’ The Crow jumped up in its fury. ‘STILL?’
Seren looked at Tomos. ‘They got through that thicket?’
‘Must have.’
‘Someone is climbing up the well at this very moment.’ The mouse flicked a self-important whisker. ‘We need to move.’
It jumped up on Tomos’s coat, ran down his sleeve and into his pocket. Its head popped out.
‘All right. Let’s go!’
Tomos grinned.
‘Across the field that way,’ the mouse ordered. ‘And run!’
Tomos ran. Seren raced after him, the Crow flapping along behind. But before they had even reached the orchard on the far side of the field the mouse squeaked, ‘Too late!’
Seren looked back. A pair of long white hands had appeared over the top of the well.
‘They’ve caught up,’ she gasped. ‘At least…’
The Crow screeched to a halt. ‘This time I’ll really sort Them out … Tomos, the glass pyramid.’
Tomos already had it in his hand.
Seren said, ‘Isn’t that…?’
‘From the drawing-room cabinet, yes. I’ll be in real trouble.’ Tomos turned his back.
‘Yes, but wait,’ Seren said quickly. ‘Before you throw it… It’s just, I’m not sure it is Them, after all and…’
It was too late.
He had already tossed the small, crystal pyramid over his shoulder. It spun flashing through the starlight, tumbled onto the grass, and lay there.
‘Magic?’ the mouse asked.
‘What else?’ the Crow said haughtily.
For a moment Seren thought nothing was happening, but then a tall, thin man heaved himself out of the well and waved frantically. He shouted and jumped up and down. ‘Brother! It’s me! ENOCH!’
The Crow’s beak opened; a small gasp came out.
Too late! The crystal pyramid burst open. It shot up and out, higher and higher until it was a glass mountain that blocked the sky, glaciers and peaks sparking upward, vast mountain fissures opening like chasms with terrible cracking sounds that made Seren and Tomos crouch down in fear.
Then, silence.
The glass mountain stood slippery and sheer. How could anyone climb that?
‘Oh hell!’ the Crow said softly.
‘That was your brother! He’s the one who’s been chasing after us all this time!’ Tomos stood up and went and touched the nearest crystal edge with his hand. It felt icy cold. ‘How on earth is he going to get over this?’
‘Well, how was I supposed to know?’ The Crow hunched huffily in the grass. ‘How am I supposed to know EVERYTHING? You’d be more than happy with a mountain if it was Them behind us! Admit it!’
‘Yes, I would, but…’
‘Then stop blaming me.’ The Crow turned away. ‘Enoch will just have to do the best he can.’
‘I think it was quite impressive,’ the mouse remarked kindly.
The Crow nailed it with a wintry glare. ‘Come on,’ it snapped.
Seren frowned. She knew that the Crow was bitterly sorry not to have Enoch here. But he would never admit he’d been too hasty. That just wasn’t how he was. Still, she caught up with him and whispered, ‘I’m very sorry about Enoch.’
The Crow allowed himself a sigh. ‘So am I. But he is very resourceful. He’s learned a lot from me, of course.’
‘Through the orchard,’ the mouse ordered. It flicked a whisker. ‘And do hurry, because She is waiting.’
The orchard was beautiful. Under the summer moon, its perfect fruits hung ripe – golden apples and silver pears – and the dark grass was studded with daisies.
At the end of the small trees they reached a great stone wall, and the Crow gave a shiver of excitement. ‘This is it! Goodness, I remember it so well! This is the wall of the garden. There’s a gate…’
‘There it is,’ the mouse said, pointing a minute paw over the top of Tomos’s pocket. ‘Just there.’
It was exactly how Seren had imagined it: an iron gate in an arch in the wall. She put her hand out, cautiously, and unlatched it.
The gate creaked open, and they went in.
They were inside the Garden of the Midnight Swan.
Her first thought was how beautiful it was. There were flowers everywhere, many of them roses, white and red, shimmering in the moonlight. The fragrance of their petals was heavy and sultry.
Nothing moved down the winding paths.
No leaf stirred in the clipped box hedges.
Everything seemed deeply asleep.
She saw that among the rose bushes were striped poles, topped with figures of lions and unicorns and dragons, all holding crests and shields. They were probably very brightly painted but in the moonlight they seemed all shadow and silver, and Seren thought their eyes opened and watched her sleepily as she passed beneath them.
Above the trees loomed the dark parapets and towers of a mighty castle, and she so wanted to go and explore it, but the mouse squeaked, ‘No, this way, please, and keep up,’ in its bossy little voice, and they turned left round a corner of the path.
And they saw the lake.
Seren breathed in.
It was a vast silver expanse. Moonlight shimmered on its surface like a magic pathway to a land of
dreams. All around, black trees, heavy with leaf, stood against the starry sky.
‘This is it!’ she breathed.
‘Yes,’ the Crow muttered. ‘This is it.’
She glanced at him. He looked more hunched up and moth-eaten even than usual. He fussed and fidgeted and preened a feather.
‘It’s all right,’ Seren said kindly. ‘After all we’re bringing what She wants.’
‘Yes, but you never know with these faery creatures. As I am always having to tell you, you can’t trust them an inch.’
‘Don’t be tetchy.’
‘I’m not tetchy.’
Seren opened her mouth to answer when Tomos said, ‘Listen!’
From the high towers of the castle a bell began to chime.
Twelve slow, heavy chimes.
It was midnight.
‘Just in time,’ the mouse breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Well, that’s my job done.’ It jumped out of Tomos’s pocket onto a low branch of honeysuckle. ‘Now, if you’ll take my advice, you’ll…’
‘We have no need of your advice, thank you,’ the Crow said loftily. ‘I can take it from here.’
The Midnight Swan Page 9