Shadow Wrack Page 6

  Everyone else, on the other hand, was annoyingly cheerful. Her mother was still smiling because the bird was gone. Dad was smiling because Mom was smiling. Even Belle could be heard humming a merry tune in her room.

  Baz was having the most glorious time of all. In the aftermath of the last big catfight in the alley, she had become the supreme ruler of all the cats in the area. In the late afternoons they gathered in the front yard, waiting for Baz to emerge at dusk. Currently there were over twenty flea-infested, battle-scarred alley cats in this gang. Every night Baz led them prowling about the city, and they fattened themselves on the excess of birds. They ate so many birds, in fact, that Baz no longer joined Willa’s family for human meals at all. She’d stay out all night and snooze on the couch all day, a blissful grin on her face and feather fluff in her hair. She left the bones under the sofa cushions, teeny tiny bones licked clean. It grossed Willa out, but she quietly disposed of them before her mom saw them.

  Baz was drifting away from the world of people, and she seemed less and less human every day. When Willa tried to speak to her, she just stared back with blank eyes, showing no sign of comprehension. It was unnerving to talk to her, feeling all the while that you were speaking not to a person but to an animal. Willa was a little frightened of her. She had no idea what Baz might do next, and every day Baz’s eyes grew colder and more cruel.

  One Friday after school Willa caught her mom staring at her hair.

  “The grey is coming back already! Time for another dye job.”

  “Maybe I want to keep it.”

  Her mom raised an eyebrow. “What’s eating you?”

  “Nothing. I just like my hair the way it is!” Willa grumbled.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Willa went into the bathroom to take a look. A silvery vein was visible in the roots, and it did look a little weird, but Willa didn’t want to back down now. And when she passed Belle in the hall, the old lady whispered conspiratorially, “I like it. And it’s silver, not grey!”

  The next morning was the weekend, and Willa went over to check on the house. To her great disappointment, there was no sign of progress in the construction. Everything looked exactly as it had days ago, though a loud metallic clanging sounded from the basement. She found Tengu in the woods, leaping about, striking battle poses, and lashing out at invisible foes.

  “Hi, Tengu. Seen any new black spots?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Just the one at the hotel, and it hasn’t gotten any bigger.”

  “What about Horace?”

  “Still running wild.”

  Willa sighed. “I was afraid of that. I guess I’ll go up Hanlan’s again and look for him. I hope he’s okay.” She glanced over her shoulder at the house. “I don’t see much progress here.”

  Tengu grinned brightly. “The dwarves are too busy making weapons.”

  “Weapons? Oh, Tengu….” she sighed.

  Tengu pulled out a small black disc with glistening spikes, holding it up proudly. “Ninja stars!” He gazed lovingly at the hunk of metal, turning it in the light. “Isn’t it gorgeous? I’ve always wanted some of these beauties.”

  He pulled his arm back and hurled the star like a Frisbee. It whistled through the air, thunking into a tree trunk. There was an angry squeal, and Mab erupted from a hole in the tree, glittering in her dwarvish armour and swinging her sword over her head as she flew at Tengu. He dodged her, ducking behind Willa for protection.

  “Sorry! Sorry, Mab! Won’t happen again!” he wailed.

  “Settle down, Mab, it was an accident,” soothed Willa. “Tengu, find another target that’s not a tree, please!” She turned to Mab. “Did the fairies find any spots?”

  The fairy had a blank look on her face. “Spots?”

  Willa smacked her forehead in frustration. “Spots! Black spots! Openings for the forces of evil, remember?”

  “Oh, those.” Mab was only half paying attention; she was admiring her own reflection in the blade of her sword.

  “So did they find any?”

  Mab shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

  Willa took a deep breath, willing herself to remain calm. “Did they look everywhere? In the forest and the stable? What about the basement? Have either of you looked in there recently?”

  “Nope. Peace treaty rules,” Tengu reminded her.

  “Article thirty-seven, paragraph two,” cooed Mab, smoothing her hair.

  Willa walked over and rapped on the trapdoor. Fjalarr opened it. “Yeees?”

  “I need to come in.”

  The dwarf shook his head vehemently. “Article thirty-seven —”

  “Paragraph two. I know.” Willa tried again. “But this is an emergency. I need to know …” The door slammed shut.

  “Hey!” Willa pulled on it, but it was latched shut. She shouted, “I need to know if there are any weird black spots in there!”

  Silence.

  “Are there any black spots in there?”

  Silence. Willa gave the door an angry kick just as Tengu burst out of the stable, chased by Robert, who was swinging an enormous sword over his head and hollering.

  “You dundering fool! Careless lout! CLUMSY BABOON!”

  They crashed around the yard, Tengu ducking and Robert swinging. Willa dashed over, trying to get between them without being trampled or beheaded.

  “Stop, Robert, STOP! WHOA!”

  Robert pulled up and glared at her. “Did you just say whoa?”

  Willa winced. “Sorry, Robert, I just meant ‘stop.’ Where’d you get the sword?”

  Robert flashed a smile and held it up proudly. “Isn’t it magnificent? The dwarves made it for me.” Tengu took advantage of the lull to swing up into the lower branches of a tree.

  “They’ve been busy,” Willa muttered.

  “You bet,” called Tengu, his grinning face peering out from the leaves above them. “We’re all armed now!”

  Willa rolled her eyes. “Terrific. Just terrific.” Willa ducked as Robert flipped his sword up and caught it again with a slice through the air.

  “Careful, please!” she yelped. “So why were you trying to skewer Tengu?”

  Robert held up the ninja star. Tengu looked sheepish. “I set up a target in the stable, but Robert’s rather sizeable … um … derrière got in the way.”

  This elicited another roar and a charge from Robert. Tengu scurried higher into the tree as Robert slashed at the branches, which brought Mab and the other fairies crowding around, swinging their tiny swords at Robert. Everyone was shouting. Willa was trapped against the tree trunk, with Robert stomping heavily around her feet, and she feared catching a fairy sword in the eye.

  “Stop! Stop! You’re acting like a bunch of kids! STOOOOOP!”

  There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other, and then they all started clamouring:

  “All I was doing —”

  “… minding my own business …”

  “… careless disregard for …”

  Again, Willa had to shout over all of them. “I DON’T CARE WHO STARTED IT! EVERYONE STOP TALKING!”

  In the silence that followed, they heard a voice calling from the other side of the fence —

  “Willa? Is everything all right?”

  Willa cringed. Mr. Hacker. That’s all I need right now. She gave Robert, Tengu, and the fairies a fierce look, dropping her voice to a menacing whisper.

  “Robert, in the stable! Fairies, in the woods! Tengu, come down this instant! You are going to sit right here and think about what you’ve done!” They all complied without a word. Tengu dropped to the ground and sat, hugging his knees contritely.

  Willa opened the front gate a crack. Hacker was on the sidewalk with the whole birding group, looking very self-important.

  “Quite a commotion in there!”

  “Just a little … difference of opinion. Nothing serious. Now, if you’ll excuse me …”

  She tried to retreat, but Hacker wasn’t finished. “Just a moment, pl
ease. I need to talk to you about Horace.” He was trying to peek around her to see inside, so she stepped out and pulled the gate shut behind her.

  “Yes?”

  “There’s no answer at his hotel.”

  “He’s been a little under the weather.” Willa looked around at the group, trying to smile. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed an extremely tall fellow at the back of the group.

  Hacker shook his head. “It’s not just this week. Horace is becoming more and more … confused. You must have noticed. He doesn’t seem to be all there. A few cards short of a deck, if you know what I mean.” He smirked.

  “No, I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. Hacker,” Willa snapped. “Maybe he’s just got more important things on his mind than birdwatching.”

  Hacker stiffened. “No need to take that tone with me, young lady. I was just concerned about the old fellow. Pardon me for being a good neighbour!” He turned on his heel and strode away, the rest of the birders following obediently. Willa turned away, shaking with rage. That meddlesome, gossipy old —

  A loud clacking, a familiar sound, interrupted her thoughts. She spun around to see the last birder — the very tall man — turning to look back at her. She froze at the sight: two dark, beady eyes set on either side of a very large beak, a stork beak laying flat against his chest. He stared at her for a moment, and the beak opened and shut rapidly a few times. Clack clack clack clack CLACK! Then he turned away and disappeared around the corner with the others.

  Willa stared. What the heck was THAT?

  She followed the group at a discreet distance, keeping an eye on the tall man, though now when he turned all she could see was the profile of a rather ordinary human face.

  They were heading to Hanlan’s Hill. Of course. Willa prayed they wouldn’t run into Horace, but if they did, she wanted to be there. As they climbed the path up the hill, she watched the Stork Man hang back, falling farther behind the group until he was able to slip away down a side path to the lookout. Willa hesitated, trembling. Was he looking for Horace, or was he up to something else? Holding her breath and treading as softly as she could, Willa followed him.

  The man arrived at the lookout, but to Willa’s relief Horace was nowhere to be seen. The Stork Man stopped and looked around cautiously. Willa ducked behind a tree. She could see that he had his stork face again. So I didn’t imagine it! After making sure he was alone, the man walked over to a crevice in the rock face and slipped inside.

  Willa waited a while before approaching. She wondered how she had never noticed the crevice before. It was a dark black slit in the stone, only a little taller than the Stork Man, and so narrow, it was amazing that he could squeeze inside. She peered in but could see nothing but blackness. Leaning closer, she lost her balance a bit, and one hand slipped into the crevice. She felt a familiar tingling numbness and a bitter chill crept up her arm.

  She jumped back. It wasn’t a crevice at all; it was a black stain, a long, skinny black stain on the side of the hill. Everything was still as Willa stared at it. Everything disappeared but her and the crack in the rock. Then a loud clacking sounded from inside, like a dozen or more stork bills snapping.

  Willa ran, scrambling along the narrow path, sending loose rocks tumbling down. She looked back a couple of times, but no one followed. Finally, she slowed to catch her breath. She had to tell Horace about the black stain. Did he know it was there?

  She heard a movement ahead and hurried on. To her great relief, a tawny form crossed the trail some distance away. A lion.

  “Horace!” she called, waving wildly. The animal paused and looked at her, expressionless. Willa halted, uncertain. She was used to seeing him as a lion, but with his own face, a weird enough sight, but this beast was all lion. Even at that distance she felt his eyes upon her, great glassy eyes with the pupils dilating.

  “Horace! It’s me! Willa!”

  Another heartstopping moment of silence as they stared at each other. Then the great beast flicked his tail and continued on his way, disappearing into the bushes.

  Willa’s heart sank. It was Horace — she knew in her heart it was. But he doesn’t know me anymore.

  Chapter Seven

  The lion’s powers and the dragon’s return

  Willa followed the lion at a safe distance. It was hard to think of the animal as Horace now, since it hadn’t recognized her. The lion wandered aimlessly through the brush. After an eternity, or five minutes, he strolled up to the lookout area and flopped down in the dust. He didn’t even glance at the black crevice behind him. He simply lowered his great head onto his paws and closed his eyes.

  Willa was irked. You’re taking a nap?

  She found a spot to sit where she could watch him — and the black stain — but also keep a view of the approaching trail. She would wait for him to become Horace again. She desperately wanted to speak to Horace, but how long would it take?

  The sun blazed down. The hazy afternoon seemed to telescope in front of her. Every time Willa looked at her watch, only a couple of minutes had passed. She rested her head against a tree and waited.

  The sound of voices snapped her awake. She looked up the trail and saw Hacker with two other birders. Willa couldn’t make out their words, but Hacker seemed to be saying goodbye, because the others turned to descend the hill while he turned up the trail, striding toward her.

  Willa glanced back to see that the lion was awake, blinking sleepily. Hacker would reach the clearing in a few seconds. And then what? What would he think when he saw a full-grown lion? And what would the lion think when he saw Hacker? Willa was frozen with uncertainty. What should she do? What could she do? The lion looked in her direction, eyes wide. She felt a sudden calm as she focused her gaze on the lion. She thought the words and sharpened them in her mind….

  Horace! You’ve got to change back! Horace! Horace! HORACE!

  On the last word there was a snap, and Willa felt a jolt of electricity. The lion’s eyes remained on her, but everything around melted in the sunshine. Willa exhaled and blinked, and she was staring into the eyes of an old man, just as Hacker emerged into the clearing.

  “Horace! Hello there! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Willa sat back, relieved, and feeling somehow that she had caused Horace to come back. How? By thinking it? That’s loony.

  Horace rose unsteadily to his feet, and Hacker took his arm to steady him.

  “Take it easy, gramps. I think you’ve had a little too much sun.”

  Horace looked at Hacker’s hand on his arm, frowning but saying nothing.

  “It’s a birders’ paradise these days, isn’t it?” Hacker went on. “We missed you this afternoon. Saw some lovely waxwings just around the bend there. What have you been up to?”

  Horace shrugged, pulling his arm free. Hacker gave him a steady look, his noise wrinkling a little. “Not bathing, anyway,” he muttered. Horace’s eyes narrowed. He had a strange look about him, tense and drawn-back, like a cat about to pounce.

  That’s it, time to jump in, thought Willa. She stepped out from the tree and approached the two men.

  “Hello, Mr. Hacker.”

  “Oh, hello, Willa. I was just about to walk Horace back to his hotel.”

  “That’s kind of you, but I can take him back.”

  Horace turned away, gazing out over the city. Hacker stepped closer to Willa.

  “I told you the old fellow’s not all there,” he murmured. Horace spun around, glaring at Hacker.

  “Take it easy, old sport,” Hacker chuckled. “Just joking around.”

  Horace raised one arm. Overhead, a cloud passed over the sun, and Willa shivered. Hacker waited a moment, uncertain, but when the old man did nothing further, he turned back to Willa with a smirk.

  Behind Hacker’s back, Horace swung both arms up and around in a wild gesture, then repeated the movement, and there was a sudden whoosh of wind, out of nowhere. The sky darkened, and Hacker looked up in surprise.

  “That�
��s odd —” he started to say, but Horace was swinging his arms around yet again, as if channelling the wind, directing it. He ended with a sharp motion in Hacker’s direction, and the impact of the wind knocked Hacker right over. He rolled once in the dirt and then twisted around to stare at Horace, standing several feet away.

  “Hey! You crazy old man! You pushed me!”

  Horace merely folded his arms. Hacker jumped to his feet, backing toward the path and keeping a wary eye on Horace. “You’re not just nutty, you’re a menace! Oughta be locked up!” He gestured to Willa. “Come on, Willa. I’ll walk you home.”

  “I’m fine, Mr. Hacker.”

  “The man’s dangerous!”

  “Horace is not dangerous. I’ll be fine. Good night.”

  Hacker gave them both an uncertain look then shrugged and hurried off. “Oughta be locked up!” he hollered again over his shoulder and was gone.

  Willa turned to Horace, who was staring darkly after Hacker. She pointed at the crevice. “Look. Another black stain.”

  Horace nodded.

  “I saw this weird stork-headed man go into it.”

  “And?”

  “And what? It was a man with a stork head! And he went in there.”

  Horace settled himself on his usual rock, shrugging. “The Stork Men don’t do much. They come and go.”

  “But the stain, isn’t it dangerous?”

  “If you’re so worried about it, I’ll keep an eye on it.” He raised an eyebrow. “You would do well to keep an eye out closer to home. On the enemies within. It’s those who are closest who do the most damage.”

  “The dwarves?”

  He put one long finger along the side of his nose. “What are they up to in that basement, I wonder?”

  Willa thought about how they wouldn’t open up the door for her today. What if they were plotting something?

  “You should probably get back home now,” suggested Horace, his voice and eyes cold.

  “I suppose so.” She was still unsure about leaving him. “Are you sure you’re all right up here?”