They found soft grassland surrounding a small brook that bubbled from a spring. Patches and swathes of wildflowers were dotted among the green grasses as if from an artist’s brush, while startled birds and wild animals scattered and flurried away in all directions at this invasion. After the wilderness, the little clearing seemed the most beautiful place they had ever seen. Everyone ran towards the spring. The sparkling water was clear, tempting some of the pixies to kneel for a drink.
“Listen!” Adam gasped in amazement, “the stream is speaking.”
“Welcome to my waters. Drink and be refreshed,” the brook babbled repeatedly.
“Of course,” Lar looked curiously at Adam and Emily, “is it possible that you have never heard a stream?”
“I’ve heard lots of streams,” Adam grinned, “but I’ve never heard one talk before.”
“All streams speak, Master,” Lar said in a matter-of-fact voice, turning away to examine their surroundings.
“It’s just that we can understand now,” Emily whispered to her brother. “And doesn’t it have a lovely melody?”
“Ay,” several pixies muttered at the same time so that everybody laughed.
“I wish I had their hearing,” Adam said in a normal voice.
“I would have stayed,” Lupp suddenly announced, sighing heavily and startling everyone by speaking again, “if it hadn’t been for the wild beasts that gather here.”
“It reminds me of home,” Lar said sadly. Emily thought she saw a tear in his squinting yellow eyes.
Adam’s eyes, instead, were searching the air for black kites. There was sign of neither bird nor beast. Lar wiped an eye and nodded at Adam: “I, too, am worried. There is no sign of life, which means that the creatures are afraid of what is about to happen.” Lar raised his voice: “Quickly, search for the flower!”
Lex tugged at Emily’s sleeve. “Where’s China, Mistress?”
“Not just now, Lex! Search for St John’s Wort.”
As quickly as possible, she described the flower to the pixies. They must search for a long spindly plant, with branches ending in small yellow petals like little stars.
Before long, there was a high-pitched cry of joy. Lenya had found the flower. There were several of the plants scattered around.
“Pick them all,” Emily urged, “every last one.” Breaking each stem carefully, she began to plait the flowers into twenty-two bracelets, twenty small ones and two big ones. She eased her bracelet over her wrist; the others did the same.
“Now, if I’m right, we are proof against fairy magic.”
Emily looked around her at a circle of upturned greenish faces, each one trustful and expectant. The pixies were waiting for orders. Again, Emily felt responsible for the little band of pixies. It was a strange feeling. In all her young life, nobody had ever depended on her. She, like Adam, had always relied on her parents for help and advice. She loved these gentle pixies, and she felt that they admired her. If she were honest with herself, she enjoyed the power of command. She felt it was natural. Nothing must harm them, not if she could prevent it. She was determined to defeat the Hag.
The pixies waited for orders. Now they were protected from fairy magic, but they still didn’t know where to go to escape from this land.
“We’ll only get out of the Land of Poverty with courage and determination,” Emily said, thinking aloud. “We must find the Hag, face up to her and make her show us the way out of here.”
Fired by her successes up to now, Emily felt sure that this was the answer. The pixies, on the other hand, knew the Hag. Lenya began to cry softly, making Lex put his arm around her. Emily looked at the tense fearful faces, but she had no other solution to offer.
Four black crows flew towards them, circled the clearing twice, cawing harshly, before winging quickly away. The crows were the only visible creatures in the eerie stillness.
“They’re from the Hag, aren’t they?” Adam asked.
“Ay, Master.”
“Why not the black kites?”
“The Hag has many foul servants all a part of the same vile design,” Lar said in his peculiar way.
Emily led the pixies back to the maze, entering confidently, sure that their bracelets would prevent the gorse walls from growing. Indeed, it seemed to be the case. Emily could see over the top easily, so they passed through the maze quickly. All the time, they had the feeling of being watched. Adam noticed several black dots in the grey sky. They were flying in tight circles so high above them that they were almost invisible.
“The kites are back,” Adam said to Lar. “Look, they’re as fast as lightning.” Every so often, a kite streaked away, only to be replaced by another. The Hag obviously knew their every move.
“Ay, like lightning,” Lar nodded slowly and added grimly, “after the lightning comes the thunder, is it not so, Master?”
Lar had many intriguing sayings, but this one seemed too obvious to Adam. Suddenly, his brow furrowed as he understood the meaning of their perilous situation. The threat of the Hag hung over the little group. They marched on without another word in the ominous silence of the wilderness.
Leaving the maze behind, they came to Blunderbore’s cave. There was no sign of the trolls. But before long, there was plenty of evidence of their activity. Here and there lay the bloodied bodies of slaughtered spriggans. There must have been a dreadful battle. “It looks like the trolls have taken me very seriously,” Adam muttered, turning away from the terrible sight.
“That has solved one serious problem,” Emily said with relief, “because our bracelets are no defence against spriggans.”
“We should take this track if we are to find the Hag,” Lar said with a quaver in his voice. It was clear that he wanted to say more. His new Mistress had never seen the Hag. How could she imagine the danger involved in this encounter? He wanted to explain how his heart seemed to be beating at the back of his throat. How his stomach felt in an icy grip and how the Hag was pure evil. How it was better to be, like the spriggans, broken and lifeless in the wilderness. The Hag’s vengeance, spurred by her recent defeats, would be without pity or mercy.
Not only Lar was terrified; Adam too felt the weight of fear. With every step, he felt his heart beat faster. What wouldn’t he give to avoid the Hag? Something nagging at the back of his mind wanted to break to the fore, to grab his attention. This numbing fear wouldn’t let it. What was it? They needn’t meet the Hag, they could escape! But how? He knew they could escape, if only—fear closed in again. His hands were sweating and his knees trembled as he walked.
7
They continued along the track, Lar dwelling in gloomy thought, searching for the right words to dissuade his Mistress from this meeting when he was interrupted by caws. Once more, four large, black crows flew along the track and circled around their heads.
“The Hag's guides!” Lar’s voice held a note of panic.
The little band halted.
Emily stared down the trail, but there was nobody there. Her gaze passed along the path into the wilderness towards the horizon. Her gaze lingered on the distance, so they weren’t focused on the figure who was standing in front of her, where there had been no-one a moment before. The Hag! Emily’s eyes and mind fought a private battle. Her stare fixed on a malign creature leaning on a blackthorn staff, ten paces away. Her mind told her this apparition was impossible.
She stared at the malign creature: her heart and stomach suddenly felt like Lar’s. This was no ordinary being, but one so wicked that she could feel the harm projected pass over her body like an evil caress. Behind Emily, three or four pixies began to cry.
Under a crown of nettles, the Hag's hair was wintry white and fell straight to her shoulders. Her eyes were colourless like slivers of ice: two hollow slits peering from a Haggard face as worn as the fading year. Draped around her bony shoulders was a woven cloak of wilted weeds, which fell aside as she raised an arm and pointed a long-nailed finger at Emily.
“I’m going to tu
rn you into a ghoul,” she hissed through yellow pointed teeth. “You'll be more dead than alive, my pretty one…and not so pretty,” the Hag cackled and her voice rose menacingly, “not much flesh, only bones bound in skin! Bound in skin!” The black kites swooped around the trembling little band, screeching in unison with the Hag’s laughter as if sharing the cruel joke. The Hag’s eyes fixed Emily’s yellow bracelet. Emily wasn’t sure, but perhaps there was a hint of fear in the Hag’s voice. “What happens when I rip them off your wrists, my lovely?” Emily’s knees shook, but she forced herself to take a step forward. She raised her arm, displaying the flowers to the Hag, her voice weaker than before.
“Horrible old witch. You daren’t come near them!”
“Look out!” Adam yelled, just in time.
Emily snatched her arm away as a swooping kite, vicious talons fully extended, failed by a hair’s breadth to tear the bracelet from her wrist. Adam wasn’t so lucky because a second kite swooped, its talons gouging his cheek. He cried out in pain and blood coursed down his face. Mopping it with his shirt sleeve, he held it there to stop the flow.
Another kite caught Lajx unawares as he was staring open-mouthed at Adam. Its talons hooked around his fragile bracelet and snatched it away. The Hag’s laugh, more like a shriek of glee, almost pierced their eardrums. The witch raised her finger again and pointed at Lajx. The small band of pixies, Emily, and Adam watched in horror as the elderly pixy began to shrink before their eyes. To begin with, he didn’t have much spare flesh, but now his cheeks sank inwards, he seemed all eyes; his arms and legs dwindled until they were little more than skin and bone, and what little grey hair he had fell out. The Hag lowered her hand; she preferred to leave the pixy just enough life to suffer and serve as an example to the rest. Lajx bent slowly with great difficulty and picked up a stone. He wanted to make a valiant attempt at defiance, but his poor body was too weak. He only succeeded in throwing it a few feet towards the Hag, whose evil face contorted in rage. She raised her finger again, and Lajx staggered. Under the rags that passed for his clothes lay a crumpled heap of bones without flesh.
Emily managed another step towards the Hag, who screamed and stepped backwards, her face twisted in fear, fury and confusion. While her eyes were still fixed on the flowery band at Emily's wrist, her lips moved rapidly trying to chant a spell to ensnare them. Like a spider trying to trap its victim, but for whom the web wouldn’t spin, the frustrated Hag realised that her magic had no effect against the bracelets. She bared her teeth and hissed: “Only Ancient Lore saves you from my will. If I ever find you bare of the cursed weed, I shall change your fate, my lovely! I promise you—it will not be a happy end for you!”
They stood there, glaring at each other, the Hag in thwarted fury and Emily in fearful doubt. She wanted to be as brave as Lajx and defy the witch, but in the face of such evil, she couldn’t find the words. Behind her, Adam and the pixies trembled and clutched their bracelets to their chests for fear of the circling kites. Even without her powers, the Hag was so malign that to look at her was enough to drain away anyone’s courage. For the first time in this wilderness, Adam was bereft of his unexpected bravery, facing the Hag was too much. Her hollow eyes terrified him, leaving him as weak as a pixy. In future, those eyes would give him nightmares. He kept thinking that only a few fragile flowers protected him from a horrible fate.
At last, Emily steeled herself. Her silver eyes flashing, she took her third step towards the Hag. But the moment was lost—
“Hello, dear pixies! Greetings, Lord Rockell, we've seen to the spriggans!” The ground shook as the four trolls, waving and grinning, appeared over the hill. The Hag spun around and glared at the trolls. With indescribable hatred, she spat: “Dear pixies! Idiots! Have you lost what little reason you have? Where are my spriggans?” She pointed at hunchbacked Rickett whose satisfied smirk made him look more grotesque.
“Dead, that's what!” Blunderbore growled, looking at Lord Rockell for approval.
“Just as Lord Rockell commanded,” Thundell boomed, pleased with himself.
“Lord Rockell! Lord Rockell!” the Hag shrieked. “That's not Lord Rockell, that's just a boy, a human boy! You could eat him! You could boil him! You could drink his blood! Fools!” she hissed.
The trolls looked at each other.
“Not Lord Rockell?” Rickett said slowly, his brain struggling to cope.
“Not Lorrrd Rrrrockell?” the Grasper gasped.
“No! No! No!” the Hag reproached.
“Run!” Adam yelled. Emily and the pixies ran, but Adam stood his ground. His courage had returned; it troubled the trolls, who hesitated.
“Savage him!” screeched the Hag, whose magic was useless against the boy's bracelet. “There are four of you and one of him!” She was beside herself with fury. “Rip the bracelet off him! Then he'll be worse than dead!”
Blunderbore rushed forward and raised a foot. Cari flashed, and the Crusher howled in pain. Not a single hair remained on the giant foot that glowed red and painful.
“Elven magic! Elven magic! Another curse!” The Hag's fingers clawed in frustration at the air above her head.
The trolls cowered as Adam looked at them. “It's true, I'm not Rockell,” he shouted triumphantly, “but if you follow me, you'll pay dearly!” The tiny eyes of the other three trolls were on Blunderbore, who was sitting on a rock, nursing his glowing foot and howling like a wounded wolf.
“I'll seek you out! Wherever you go, I’ll find you, then you’ll wish you’d never been born!” the Hag screeched, sounding like her kites swooping about Adam's head, their talons flashing past his bloodied face. The great hawks could easily have torn off his bracelet or gouged out an eye, but Adam guessed the birds were also afraid of the orb.
He joined the others at a five-barred gate where a wonderful sight awaited him. The gate separated wilderness from sown land. A golden field of grain shone beneath a sun such as never penetrated the clouds over the Land of Poverty.
“Look!” Emily cried happily. “Our bracelets have cancelled the Hag's binding spell. We have found the borders of her land—we are free to leave.”
“Let's get through then! Quickly, while our luck holds,” Adam urged.
The company slipped through the gate, Adam last, closing it carefully as if to shut the Hag out of his life forever. But her shrill words rang in his ears, “I'll seek you out!” Adam shivered. The pixies were shivering, too, only because this land was warm and their thin bodies were adjusting to the change. Adam looked back over the gate and saw the trolls. He held the elven orb high, but he needn't have bothered. The trolls knew where Adam was and that they couldn't follow him there. Beaten, they hung their heads and three of them plodded and one limped back deep into the wilderness.
Adam pocketed the orb and turned just in time to see a stranger who had been staring at the sphere. A dwarf! Emily was staring open-mouthed at the dwarf too. The pixies, instead, were smiling at him. The dwarf, however, did not return their smiles. Under bushy eyebrows, his solemn, dark eyes studied each of the band in turn. The curiosity and suspicion were plain to see there.
“You cannot come through the gate,” his voice rumbled from deep in his barrel-chest “unless you mean to work very hard.”
Emily and Lar looked at each other and smiled. “We'll work as hard as you like,” Emily said earnestly, “just as long as we don't have to go back into the Land of Poverty!”
Lar took off his hat and bowed low: “My name is Lar, leader of the Lostlings. These are my people.” He waved his arm at the other pixies. “We are a hard-working race, and we seek only the opportunity to live and work in peace. In this way, we shall be able to return to Elm-dale and Halewood,” Lar smiled encouragingly at Lenya, who was standing at his elbow, “our homelands.”
Lar followed the dwarf's eyes to Adam. “This is our Master, and this is our Mistress,” his fluting voice was full of gratitude. “They have saved us from the Hag and have led us here. They are…” Lar hesitated, �
��…humans.” He glanced anxiously at Emily, having repeated the Hag's word, now he hoped it was not offensive. Emily smiled and copied Lar's bow. Adam, from whose face the dwarf's suspicious eyes had never moved, suddenly realised that he should do the same. Embarrassed, he bowed awkwardly.
Straightening up, Adam said, “About this hard work, I've always done well at school, will that do?”
The dwarf half-smiled and looked at Emily, who didn't say anything. The truth was, she preferred daydreaming to schoolwork.
At last, the dwarf spoke again in his deep voice. “The humans come with me. Pixies, follow this track which will lead you to a village on the road for Elm-dale. Once in the village, you may find work to earn enough for your journey.” The dwarf folded his arms and waited.
Lar spoke first, turning to Lex. “Lex, you must lead the Lostlings back to our homeland. My fate is different. I must remain with our Master, for he needs me.”
Adam looked at Lar, but Emily replied, “No, Lar, you are the leader of the Lostlings, and you must lead your people home.”
“Mistress,” Lar's squinting, yellow eyes studied the girl's beautiful face, “pixies do not know their destiny, but they have a strong sense of where Fate will lead them.” Lar turned and embraced the pixies one by one. “Be careful,” he warned, “never to return to that cursed place.”
Not that such a warning was necessary, the little band of pixies departed, some with tears in their eyes, strangely sad and quiet for people who had just escaped the Hag. Adam smiled at Lar. “Well, Lar, it looks like we are friends.” He held out a hand clumsily. Lar stretched on tiptoe to put his little hand into Adam's much larger one. “A good friend is worth more than treasure, is it not so, Master?”
“Ay, it is so,” Adam laughed, but his laugh was forced. His head was spinning, his cheek was throbbing, and he didn’t feel at all well.
“Follow me,” the dwarf boomed. “We shall see what the future holds for you.”
Whirligig Page 5