The mouse wrinkled its nose. It looked at Seren, ‘Feel a bit sorry for you. Having to put up with him.’
She shrugged. ‘I know. But we love him.’
The Crow looked astonished.
The mouse nodded. ‘Good luck then.’ And with a flicker of its tail it was gone, running along the branch into a tiny hole in the wall.
‘What a nerve these creatures have.’ The Crow turned to Tomos. ‘Quickly. The Box. We have to make sure the Egg is all right.’
Tomos pulled it out. The silver bands and the writing on the casket shone in the moonlight; he opened it and looked in.
His face went white. ‘It’s cracked!’
‘WHAT?’
‘There’s a crack. But how … I’ve been so careful…’
‘Let me see!’ The Crow flapped over and stared. Seren wriggled in next to Tomos and saw it was true. There was a tiny crack, thin as a hair, in the perfect white shell.
At the same time, the singing began.
It was so sweet. High and strange and sad, it seemed to come from all around them.
‘It’s the roses,’ Tomos breathed in awe. ‘The roses are singing.’
Seren clenched her fingers tight, because the sound was so wonderful. It was stranger than the music of the Tylwyth Teg, because it was made by petal and sepal, and its sound was the sound of raindrops and seeds that grow in darkness, and its words were secret and pure.
As if in answer, from the lake ripples began to lap against the grassy bank, as if something was swimming towards them out of the darkness.
The Swan was coming, and the Egg was broken!
‘What can we do?’ she whispered.
‘Nothing.’ The Crow looked devastated. It turned to face the lake. ‘Nothing at all.’
The swans swam silently out of the darkness, and their reflections shimmered on the moonlit water.
There were six white ones in a line; their proud necks dipped and their beaks were black and gold. They looked beautiful and her heart gave a little shiver at seeing them. Behind them, black even against the blackness of the trees, came the Midnight Swan.
Seren felt afraid.
She had never seen a swan so big, or so graceful. Around its neck hung a collar of diamonds, each jewel sparkling tiny rainbows of moonlight. The Swan’s eyes were dark and its beak was gold. And its gaze on her was cold and curious.
The swans arrived at the shore and their line parted, so that the black Swan could swim close to the shore. She looked at them all carefully, especially at the Crow.
‘Don’t I know you?’
The Crow cringed. ‘Yes, Majesty. I had the honour of meeting you here many years ago. When I … er … unfortunately…’
The Swan’s voice was icy. ‘I remember! You were the schoolmaster who stole my rose!’
‘I was.’
‘And you’ve found your way back here. Why?’
The Crow gulped. Then it drew itself up. ‘Because…’
But the Swan had caught sight of the Box, which Tomos was holding tightly in both hands.
‘What is that?’
It heaved itself out of the water and onto the bank, all its feathers dripping. This close it was terrifying; its beak hard and dangerous, its eyes flashes of temper. ‘That Box has my name on it. Why? And who are these children you’ve brought here?’
The Crow seemed too scared to speak.
Seren stepped forward. She was scared, too, but determined not to show it. ‘We came because he’s our friend and because it’s not fair that he should be trapped in a bird shape. And we brought you something that you asked for.’
The Swan’s face turned to her, zooming closer on its long neck. ‘You are a bold little creature.’
Seren nodded. ‘A lot of people have said that. I don’t mind any more. But anyway, this is for you. I’m afraid it’s got just a little cracked, but that’s not our fault. It’s a very awkward thing to carry and Tomos was really, really careful.’
She nodded to Tomos, who came forward and laid the Box down on the dark grass.
All the other swans gathered close to watch.
The roses bent lower.
The honeysuckle murmured.
The Midnight Swan stepped closer. It read the words on the side of the casket. ‘If you can open My closed lid Your heart’s desire Inside is hid. This is a strange box with strange words on it. Where did you get it?’
‘I … er … bought it,’ Seren said. ‘For a penny on a stall. Anyway, its not the Box but what’s in the Box that matters.’
She knelt down, and opened the lid.
The Egg gleamed white in the moonlight. It would have been perfect, but for the crack, which had definitely grown bigger, she thought, even in the last few minutes.
The other swans gave small cries of joy and amazement but the Midnight Swan was absolutely silent. For a moment she didn’t move at all. Then, her long neck stretching out, she carefully touched the Egg with her beak.
It rolled out onto the grass.
The Swan stared at it so long Seren thought she was angry. But then she raised her head and Seren saw two glistening tears. They fell onto the collar and became two more diamonds.
‘You did it,’ she said to the Crow. ‘You found it!’
The Crow tipped his head on one side. ‘I did, yes.’ He squirmed a little and glanced at Seren. ‘Well, actually it was…’
‘He was very brave,’ Seren said quickly. ‘Especially in the boat…’
But the Swan was not listening. She gave a pure clear cry of anguish and pain and love. She bent down close to the Egg and breathed on it, and the warm summer night seemed to become even hotter, and it seemed that everything in the Garden, even the stars, crowded a little closer to see what would happen.
Sudden cracks zigzagged the Egg’s hard shell. It split with a sharp, hard snap; then small pieces fell away and there was a hole, tiny, with something soft and strange moving inside the membrane.
‘It’s hatching,’ Tomos breathed.
Seren laughed. She looked at the Crow. His jewel eyes were fixed on the hole in the Egg. Already it was bigger and they could see the beak of the chick inside, nibbling, struggling.
‘Come,’ the Swan said quietly. ‘Come, my Cygnet.’
The Egg fell apart.
Moonlight shone on the creature that unfurled from it: a stiff, wet, weak creature, all awkward neck and gawky feet.
But it was clearly a cygnet, its downy fluff grey-white, its eyes blinking open.
All the garden gave a ripple of delight. The roses sang sweeter and the bells in the tower began to chime again but this time in glorious celebration. The cygnet tried to walk, fell over and tried again. It made a tiny squawk. At once the Swan gathered it into her flanks with her graceful neck, nuzzling it and comforting it.
When she looked up her eyes were bright. She looked full of joy, but her voice was still sharp.
‘So, Master Crow. I have to admit that you have brought me my heart’s desire. I suppose you want your reward now.’
The Crow was still staring at the cygnet with utter astonishment. He cleared his throat. ‘Well … Yes … It would be very…’
But at that moment every face turned to look over his shoulder and all the swans hissed as one.
Seren turned quickly.
A bedraggled figure stood there.
He was tall and thin and his dark coat was torn and his thin fair hair plastered to his skull. He was out of breath and his backpack hung empty and his walking stick was broken and there was a large bandage on his left big toe. But he looked triumphant.
‘Mordecai,’ he said, holding out both hands. ‘It’s me. I got here. I got here at last!’
12
Anything in all the world
Wish for love, wish for treasure
wish for someone else’s pleasure.
The Swan bristled. ‘Another thief in my garden? I’ll turn this one into a toad this time!’
‘No!’ the Crow gasped, as
tonished. ‘Don’t do that! He’s my brother, Enoch.’ With a twitch of his wing he waved Enoch over.
The tall man came quickly over the grass. He nodded a little nervously at the Swan. ‘I do beg your pardon, Ma’am … I don’t mean to trespass. I’ve been following them all and trying to catch up but there were a few … er obstacles.’
‘How on earth did you get through the thicket and over the mountain?’ the Crow demanded.
‘Well, I’ve learned a little magic, brother, after watching you over the years. I hope you don’t mind. They were very good obstacles, though, I have to say. I’ve rarely seen better.’
The Crow looked a little less annoyed.
The Swan narrowed its eyes. ‘Seeing as your friends have brought my son home I’ll overlook your presence here. This once.’
‘Much obliged.’ Enoch nodded to Seren, ‘Hello, Miss Seren. Very glad to see you.’
She bobbed a curtsey. ‘And you.’ It seemed a long time now since their first meeting in the railway waiting room, when he had given her the newspaper parcel, which contained the Crow.
‘You’ve been a great friend to my dear brother, you really have. And you, too, Master Tomos.’
The Crow gave a splutter of irritation. He hopped closer to the Swan. ‘Look this is all very well, and I’m delighted you have your cygnet back but, really, what about me? When are you going to take this spell off me? You promised and I really think it’s time…’
The Swan hissed.
It seemed to swell and grow fiercer.
The Crow flapped hastily back.
‘I made a promise and I will keep it,’ the Swan said softly. ‘But there is a difficulty. Are you certain – absolutely certain – that it was you who found my Egg?’
‘Ah. Er … well …’ The Crow threw a panicky look at Seren.
‘Or…’ the Swan swivelled its beautiful face to her, ‘was it you?’
Seren was silent. She had no idea what to say. If she said the truth the Crow might never be human again.
‘I um … well, the fact is…’ the Crow’s voice was strangled. ‘It’s not that straightforward…’
It was Tomos who spoke out. ‘Seren got it,’ he said suddenly. ‘She just went out and found it, all by herself. It was really brave.’
The Swan nodded wisely. ‘I suspected as much. So…’ She turned fiercely to the Crow. ‘The human girl found the Egg. The choice is hers.’
The narrow, black eyes, deep as night, regarded Seren. ‘You have a choice now. Whatever you want, anything, in all the world, can be yours now. Just ask me for it.’
The Crow gasped.
Seren felt as if she was dizzy. Anything in all the world! She could ask for anything! There was so much she wanted. She could ask for Captain Jones to forget about sending her back to the orphanage! She could ask for Them not to be at the Midsummer Ball and for Tomos and Plas-y-Fran to be safe for ever! She could ask for a thousand books and to be a writer and as famous and clever as Mr Sherlock Holmes. She could even ask for gold and jewels and to be as beautiful as the dawn if she wanted, though to be honest she didn’t care as much about those. Ideas went through her mind as swift as arrows.
They were all what she wanted.
She looked at the Crow.
The Crow looked back at her. He was completely silent. But she had never seen such a pleading in his jewel-bright eyes.
Seren sniffed. She tidied her hair and stood up straight. She felt as if what she was going to say next was the most important thing she would ever say in her life, and for a moment it scared her, because it would be final and she did really want those other things a lot. But when she spoke she made the words loud and clear. ‘I want the Clockwork Crow to be back in his right shape again. If you please.’
Enoch gave a great shout and Tomos clapped his hands and whooped.
The Crow gave a little explosion of relief and a few moth-eaten feathers burst upwards.
The Midnight Swan nodded its head. ‘I see. Well, as you have asked for that, you’ll have it. It was a generous act, because I can read in your heart that you have sorrows of your own. So, to show I can be generous too, I’ll give you something for yourself. You will know how to use it when the time comes.’
‘For me?’ Seren whispered.
‘Yes. Take this.’
The Swan lowered its neck so far that the collar of diamonds slipped off and fell on the grass.
‘Oh!’ Seren said.
She stared at the jewels, hardly daring to touch them.
‘They’ll solve one of your problems, I think,’ the Swan said carelessly. ‘But the human things I can do nothing about. Those are for you to solve.’
Seren knelt in the dark grass and picked up the collar with both hands. It lay heavy on her palms, the diamonds glittering with cold brilliance, as if she held a constellation of stars. She was scared of how beautiful it was.
‘Thank you,’ she breathed.
‘Er … ahem.’ The Crow murmured hopefully.
The Swan turned its dark head. ‘I haven’t forgotten you. The child has asked for you to be unspelled, and I will tell you the way it must be done. But I warn you, it won’t be easy.’
‘You can’t do it straight away?’ Enoch asked, knitting his hands together. ‘We’ve waited so long…’
‘No. It is a fierce spell, spun in anger. A mighty enchantment. Such things cannot be undone with just a flick of a wing. There is a way but it will take courage. Especially,’ she turned to the Crow, ‘from you.’
The Crow looked anxious. ‘I’ll do anything.’
‘Anything?’
‘Anything.’ But he sounded terrified.
‘Then this is what has to be done.’ The Swan fixed Seren with its dark gaze. ‘You must take the Clockwork Crow apart, piece by piece. Every wheel, every cog, every feather. Beak and wings and claws. Then the pieces must be placed in a heap together under the full moon. And they must be burned to ashes.’
Enoch gasped.
Tomos said, ‘Golly!’
Seren’s eyes went wide. ‘I can’t!’
‘You must. Because that is the only way the spell can be broken.’
The Crow looked dazed. ‘I feel a little faint.’
‘You must show your courage now.’ The Swan rose gracefully and stretched its wings out, then it turned and slipped into the water with hardly a ripple, the cygnet snug in the downy feathers of its back, the tiny head gazing sleepily at Seren.
‘But,’ Seren hurried to the water’s edge, ‘what if we do all that and then … it doesn’t work?’
‘Trust me.’ The Swan’s voice came over the water, along the path of the moon. ‘If you are brave, it will work. Goodbye now. Go through the silver gate, and good luck.’
The white swans followed her, a moonlit procession.
And the singing of the roses was a pure high note, until the swans vanished into the misty darkness, and only the moon was left.
The song of the flowers died away.
The garden was silent.
Seren turned. Her face was white. ‘What are we going to do?’
No one dared answer.
Finally the Crow lifted its head with an effort and sat up. ‘First we go back. Then … we do what she said.’
‘Brother!’ Enoch muttered.
‘I have no choice.’ The Crow shook itself irritably. ‘Come on now, stop moping. Let’s find this wretched gate and get out of here. I never want to see this place ever again.’
Enoch nodded sadly. He bent and picked the Crow up.
‘It’s over there.’ Tomos had been looking about. ‘See?’
The gate was a small silver one in the wall, and beyond it was a path that seemed to lead towards the castle. Seren led the way. As they hurried between the fragrant beds of roses and phlox and night-scented stock she wondered how on earth she would be able to do what the Swan had said.
It was impossible!
And a collar of diamonds! She could never wear it; everyone would say
it was stolen. What on earth was she to do with it? She clasped it tight round her waist, to keep it safe.
At the gate she stopped, breathless, the others crowding behind.
‘Open it,’ the Crow said. ‘Quickly.’
The latch was silver. She pressed it down with her fingers and the gate opened and she walked through.
Onto the lawn of Plas-y-Fran.
Astonished, she heard the others come tumbling through behind her. In front of them the windows of the house were lit against the sky. The music of fiddles and harps was echoing across the lawn. Hundreds of lanterns hung from tree to tree.
‘The Midsummer Ball!’ Tomos breathed. ‘But how…’
He glanced back.
The silver gate was still open; beyond it they could see the path, and the castle, deep in its fragrant garden. And then, slowly and silently the gate swung shut.
The night closed over it.
And it was gone.
‘It’s as if it was really just there all the time,’ Enoch murmured after a moment.
‘If we’d known that it would have saved us a world of trouble,’ the Crow snapped. He turned. ‘Someone’s coming.’
It was Gwyn.
He ran out of the dark, breathless, ‘Seren! Diolch byth, you’re back! They are here and there and everywhere! Hundreds of them!’
The Midnight Swan Page 10