Shadow Wrack Page 11

  Willa turned to see the dragon boldly shielding the small band of dwarves, cats, and Robert. Every time the griffin advanced on them, the dragon would blast flames at his feet to keep him back. The griffin let out a tremendous roar, and the ground between them cracked open. Hairy birds and basilisks poured out. They rose in a swarm. The dragon incinerated some, but they just kept coming, and began to swarm over her as well.

  NO, Horace! Stop, please stop! Willa cried out with her mind.

  This time it heard her. The griffin whipped around, pouncing savagely. Willa didn’t have time to react. The beast’s front feet came down on top of her, and everything went dark.

  Chapter Thirteen

  In which wisdom is found

  Willa lay on the ground. Everything was dark and an immense weight was on top of her, pressing down. She couldn’t breathe. Then the weight — the griffin’s foot — lifted. The claws opened slowly, and she saw the griffin peering down at her, snarling. The eyes were filled with malice, with no sign of Horace in them at all, and Willa was gripped by a white, blinding fear. The griffin’s beak opened and advanced, poking in between the claws to grip her firmly around the waist. She was unable to breathe, and everything was growing dark when she heard a sudden, familiar screech.

  The beak opened, the claws relaxed, and Willa rolled out of their grip, gasping for air. The griffin was occupied, batting at a small, dark attacker. Too weak to rise from the ground, Willa watched helplessly, blinking as the scene came into focus. Only then did she realize her rescuer was the phoenix.

  The smaller bird danced in the air around the griffin, swerving just beyond his snapping beak. Then a blast of fire hit the griffin’s backside, and he spun around to face the dragon. The phoenix swooped to land in front of Willa.

  I’m so glad to see you! I’m glad you’re okay, thought Willa, staring up into the bird’s eyes with a sudden rush of affection. The bird’s familiar stony expression suddenly melted away, and her eyes shone with warmth.

  Willa held her breath. It was unmistakable. Those eyes, they were just like Fadiyah’s. Willa’s vision blurred with tears.

  I loved your mother, I really did. Did I ever tell you that?

  The bird dipped her head, looking sadly at the ground. Willa sat up, reaching her hand out to lift the bird’s head so the eyes met hers again.

  I never gave you a name. I’m sorry.

  Willa fought to think of one, but how could she possibly come up with a name for this wonderful bird, this bird she’d never taken the time to know? Willa stared into the bird’s eyes.

  Your name isn’t mine to give. Your name must come from you.

  Letters began to drop into her mind like falling stars. Willa held her breath as they fell. R … O … S … H … N … I … Willa saw the name glowing in the darkness and knew its meaning.

  Roshni — Shining One. It’s perfect. Thank you, Roshni.

  The phoenix Roshni stepped back, bowed her head, and then proudly raised her wings. Willa was filled with joy.

  The griffin’s shadow fell on them. His wing smashed into Roshni, sending her flying, flipping end over end in the air.

  “Roshni!” Willa cried, jumping to her feet. She looked around for help, but the others were buried in black birds, fighting to break free. Roshni was buffeted this way and that, as if by invisible hands, as the griffin gestured with one wing and then the other. At last, with a smirk, he gave a casual flick of a wingtip, and the phoenix plummeted to the ground and lay still.

  “NO!” Willa ran to her. Roshni’s breast was heaving, but her eyes were closed and her wings were bent at weird angles. Willa straightened them gently then stood. She spun around to face the griffin and screamed at him, screamed with all the energy she had left, emptying out her rage. It felt good, really good, even as she felt herself sinking. The earth beneath her feet was dissolving and she was sinking into a black spot. She was up to her ankles in it. Willa tried to lift her foot, but it was stuck fast, and each attempt made it harder and harder to move. She felt so, so tired. Her feet felt like ice, and the chill crept through her whole body.

  The black spot was spreading outward from her feet as she sank farther. She was up to her knees in it now, and her strength was slipping away. It would be so easy to give up, as easy as running downhill. She was sinking into blackness. Colder and colder, darker and darker. She was submerged to her waist now. She was surprised to feel the sword still in her hand. Her fingers squeezed the handle as it slid into the inky pool. The blackness was up to her chest, up to her shoulders. It would surely kill her. She knew that she had to fight against it and against the griffin, which was lowering his head to watch her closely, and smiling with satisfaction.

  Willa lifted her eyes. Every fibre of her being called to her to strike out at the griffin, but when she looked up into those swirling, golden eyes, a different thought suddenly took hold of her mind. The thought was this:

  Poor Horace.

  The cold was creeping around her neck now. She closed her eyes and her head dropped forward. The sword fell from her numb fingers.

  Poor Horace. He was losing his memory. He was becoming confused. After hundreds, thousands of years of wisdom and power, to lose control of your own mind like that. What a terrible feeling it must be, how humiliating. It made him angry. He wanted to blame someone, anyone. He stopped trusting others, even his friends. Suspicion twisted his thoughts, poisoned his mind.

  Poor, poor Horace.

  Willa felt a breeze on her face. She opened her eyes to see her feet and the sword lying on the ground nearby. There was no blackness, no inky pool. Warmth was seeping back into her legs and feet. She raised her head to see the griffin still there, now blinking in confusion. She locked on his eyes and spoke out loud.

  “Your name is Horace,” she said.

  The griffin recoiled.

  “Your name is Horace, and I am your friend.”

  The griffin glanced around. The black pools were shrinking. The dragon, Robert, the dwarves, everyone came back into view as the hairy birds and squirming snakes poured off them, drawn into the black puddles like water down a drain.

  “Your name is Horace.”

  The griffin looked back at her, trembling, his eyes gentler. The others followed Willa’s lead, calling “Horace!” Hearing his name on all sides, the griffin spun around unsteadily.

  “Come back, Horace!” cried Willa.

  The griffin turned and lowered himself way, way down to look Willa in the eye. As he did so, the feathers around his head suddenly smoothed into a mane, and Willa was staring into the eyes of the lion, though he was still immense.

  “Please come back,” whispered Willa.

  The lion backed away from her and turned, pacing in a circle — once, twice, three times — shrinking with each turn until he was again his normal size. Then he flopped down wearily, laying his great head on the ground. In the silence, his golden fur darkened into a shabby old trench coat.

  Horace, their Horace, lay on the ground.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A brush with the law

  Willa reached him first.

  “Horace, are you all right?”

  His eyelids flickered open, and he smiled weakly. “Hello, Willa.”

  Willa’s eyes filled with tears, and there were murmurs of relief from the others gathering around. She took his cold hands in hers to warm them.

  “Oh, Horace! What happened?”

  Horace sighed. “I came to the hill because it was quiet and I needed to think. I needed to get my mind in order, but black thoughts kept coming. Angry thoughts.” He looked at her meaningfully.

  Willa nodded, gripping his hand. “I know. Anger feeds the black spots. And the dark creatures.”

  He sighed. “It’s hard for them to enter our world, but sometimes we throw the door wide open.”

  “And they come through,” said Willa.

  “Yes. Or we go through, into their darkness. I was angry and afraid. I was tired of feeling helpless.
I wanted to be powerful again. So I went in. And came out….” His eyes closed at the thought. “I didn’t know who I was any more. I forgot everything but my own rage, until … until you called me back.” He started to weep. “I’m weak and useless! What a terrible thing I’ve done!”

  Willa squeezed his hand. “Horace, it wasn’t just you. I was part of it, I was angry too. I was upset about my family and feeling sorry for myself. I was mad at Roshni — the phoenix — but it was me who brought the black spot into my room, not her. And tonight I opened the crevice up. I ruined everything.”

  “Nothing’s ruined!” snorted Robert. “Enough of this jibber-jabber. Let’s get the old man back home.”

  Tengu and the dwarves lifted Horace up onto Robert’s back. Willa stood and looked around for Roshni. To her relief, the bird was sitting up and gingerly stretching out her wings.

  “Thank goodness you’re all right,” breathed Willa. Roshni looked at her, and Willa felt happiness wash over her.

  The top of the hill was peaceful now. There was no black to be seen anywhere, no birds, no monsters, no Stork Men. The fire in the bushes and trees was now dying down, the red glow gradually giving way to silvery moonlight. The dragon lay on the ground nearby, watching Willa. Cuts and slashes crisscrossed her body, and her blood stained the earth.

  “Miss Trang! You’re hurt!”

  The dragon shook her head. “Nothing too serious. Once I catch my breath, I’ll be off.”

  Willa looked her in the eye. “Thank you.”

  “Oh,” the dragon sighed, “you were right, in the end. It’s my responsibility to help keep the world safe from … misapplied powers, shall we say. So I tend to err on the side of caution, rather than forgiveness.” She dropped her eyes. “Thank you for finding an alternative solution to the problem.”

  Willa looked back at Horace and the others. “I’m still not sure how I can send messages with my mind. I don’t understand it at all.”

  The dragon followed her gaze. “It seems that you have discovered a talent for connecting with people. Just remember, it won’t work if you look at others and see only yourself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We place our own meanings on others. We do it all the time, without even realizing. And this makes it harder to hear when they are trying to tell us their real meaning.” The dragon sighed again. “I’m not explaining myself very well….”

  Willa glanced over at Roshni. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  The dragon pulled herself upright, wincing with pain. “I’d better be on my way.” She looked Willa in the eye again. “Can you get everyone home all right?”

  Willa looked over the weird, ragtag group, and nodded. “Yes, I can.”

  The dragon smiled and then rose up on her hind legs, stretched out her wings, and with a little hop, lifted off the ground. Everyone waved as she circled once before disappearing into the night sky.

  They descended the hill in silence. Horace rode on Robert’s back, and Willa walked at his side, lost in thought as she gazed down at the sword in her hand.

  “You had your first taste of battle today,” said Robert.

  Willa heard again the swords clashing, the shouts and cries.

  “I didn’t like it. Not at all.” She reached up and slid the sword into the sheath at Robert’s side.

  “You’re wise beyond your years, young miss,” he answered softly.

  As they reached the lookout, Willa walked up to what was left of the rock face. In the moonlight she could see the crevice had diminished to a pencil-thin crack, which continued to shrink as she watched.

  Robert gazed at the rubble, the downed trees and boulders littering the slope.

  “So the griffin — I mean Horace — did all this when he forced his way out of the rock.”

  On Robert’s back, Horace smiled and shrugged. “It was a tight squeeze.”

  Willa watched the thin black crack turn into a black line. When it had shrivelled down as thin as a thread, there was a faint clack clack clack and WHOOOSH! The line disappeared altogether and the clacking ceased.

  “Look!” cried Tengu, pointing at the sky.

  The cloud of birds that had been gathering for so long was now undulating back and forth. It was a curious mix — eagles, hawks, seabirds, crows, robins, sparrows, chickadees — all flying together in a dense swarm. They swooped one way, doubling back again, and again, and after one final loop, as if on a signal, they dispersed rapidly in all directions. After only three or four seconds, not a single bird could be seen. The sky was clear, and the stars shone bright.

  “It’s over,” whispered Horace.

  Willa looked at him. “All those birds. Where will they go?”

  “Back to their homes, back to their lives.”

  “But aren’t some of them from the dark side?”

  “Perhaps. Birds inhabit their own plane of existence. They are the only creatures that can actually cross freely back and forth, into and out of the dark side, but they don’t seem to hold the darkness within them like we do.” Horace slowly scanned the sky. “I think most of them were simply drawn here by the disturbance and the Stork Men, but now they will settle back into their normal patterns.”

  “And we’ll do the same,” Willa said, turning to the trail. She felt the light touch of Mab landing on her shoulder.

  “It’ll be good to get home,” the fairy sighed.

  Willa felt a sudden pang. “I wish Belle was there.”

  To her surprise, she felt a peck on her cheek and the fairy whispered, “Belle was angry with you, but it wasn’t her idea to leave. That was Miss Trang’s suggestion. Belle agreed, but at the end she looked very sad about it. I’m sure you can convince her to come back.”

  Willa stared at her, tears coming to her eyes. “You really think so?”

  Mab nodded. Willa felt her heart give a little leap. “Then I will.”

  As they reached the bottom of the path, they were suddenly hit by a blinding light.

  “THIS IS THE POLICE!” blared a megaphone voice.

  “Omigosh!” exclaimed Willa. “I forgot about them! I saw them drive up earlier.”

  “Should we make a break for it?” breathed Tengu, his body tensing.

  “No!” whispered Willa sharply.

  “Aw,” he muttered. “You’re no fun.”

  “COME DOWN SLOWLY WITH YOUR HANDS UP!” the megaphone barked.

  Willa glanced behind her. There were loud clanks as everyone concealed their weaponry. The dwarves slipped axes under cloaks and pulled their hoods up to hide their faces. Baz smoothed her hair back as the other cats disappeared in the night. Robert was behind everyone with Horace lying on his back. He stealthily slipped behind a tree.

  Willa turned back, raising her hands to shield her eyes from the searchlight, and she felt another tickle at her neck as Mab climbed inside her collar to hide.

  This should be interesting, she thought, as she walked slowly forward.

  “YOU THERE, BEHIND THE TREE!” sounded the megaphone voice again.

  Willa’s heart sank. She looked back to see Robert peek out.

  “YES YOU! COME DOWN WITH THE OTHERS!”

  Willa held her breath as he inched reluctantly into the light —

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake! What are you trying to do, blind them?” snapped a familiar voice.

  Willa’s heart leapt.

  “Treating my granddaughter like some kind of criminal! Turn off that light, you fool!”

  The searchlight moved off them, and Willa could now see the silhouettes of four police cars and a fire truck and several officers and firefighters gathered around. Through the middle of it all, a figure emerged pushing a wheelchair.

  “Belle! Mom!” Willa broke into a run, landing right in her mother’s arms.

  “Oh, hon! Thank god you’re all right!”

  “Of course she’s all right. The girl can look after herself,” sniffed Belle. Willa turned to her, her eyes full of tears. “Hi, sweetie,”
smiled Belle, taking her hand.

  “This is your granddaughter? The missing person?” asked the officer with the megaphone.

  “Of course it is!” snapped Belle. “Can’t you see the family resemblance? Now turn that light off!”

  “Yes ma’am,” a sheepish voice answered, and the searchlight clicked off.

  “I’ve found my granddaughter at last, no thanks to all of you!” Belle gave the line of policemen a scornful look, and they hung their heads.

  “We couldn’t go up there, ma’am,” protested one. “Not with the rockslide … and wild animal reports …”

  “Psh! The rockslide ended hours ago. And the lion? It’s Hallowe’en! Probably just someone in costume. The entire top of the hill is on fire, and you’re all too scared to go and put it out. Shameful, I tell you!”

  Willa’s mom leaned down to whisper, “She’s been ordering them around all night.”

  The fire chief had his binoculars trained on the hilltop. “The fire’s died right down. Just a brush fire, looks like.”

  “Well, go up there and make sure,” ordered Belle. “Hop to it!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The fire chief gestured, and the other firefighters grabbed extinguishers and followed him, trudging up the trail, right past Robert, still hidden behind his tree.

  “My missing granddaughter is found, so the rest of you can go back to the station now.”

  “What about the lion?”

  Belle turned to Willa. “Willa, is there a lion up on that hill?”

  “No, ma’am.” Willa grinned.

  Belle turned back to the megaphone officer. “There you have it. Everything is fine. It’s all over. Back to the station, boys.”

  The officer raised his megaphone and barked to the others. “IT’S ALL OVER. BACK TO THE STATION, BOYS.”

  Each of the officers tipped a hat to Belle and retreated to their cars, driving off one by one until only the empty fire truck was left behind. Willa turned to Belle in astonishment.

  “How did you know to come?”

  Belle smiled serenely, clearly in her element. “I went back for a coat I forgot in the closet, and your mother was fretting about where you’d gone. We went by the old house, and there was nobody there, so I figured something was up.” She gestured to the hill. “Plus there was an almighty ruckus going on up there, and I figured you’d be right in the middle of it.”