19
The shadows are clustered tight between the trunks of the trees, and they cling to the brittle branches up high, and they crawl through the undergrowth with a sound like the crack of fire. They are shadow imps and shadow cats and shadow wolves, stalking between the giants of shadow men. Yanny takes a breath and strides through as if they don’t exist, pulling his faelight from his school bag. Zara follows. And Teacake winds about my ankles. I pick her up and kiss her nose.
‘Wait here, if you like,’ I say. ‘And pull me out, if I get stuck on the way back?’
She puts her face into my neck and purrs, deep and tight, sending waves of warmth through me.
‘Thank you,’ I say, putting her down.
She walks away a few feet, and then turns back and sits watching us, licking a paw, and I follow the others in, trying not to see the eyes that follow, or to hear the wail of their shadow voices. But the further I go, the closer they get, until my feet have lost the path, and my eyes cannot see past the mist of their forms to my friends. The acorn at my throat is uncomfortably warm, and when I put my fingers to it, there’s a snap of static that makes me wince.
‘Zara!’ I manage.
She is there in an instant, and her warm hand pulls me through, Yanny on the other side. We walk in a chain – Zara in the middle, unseeing, but all too aware of the tension in the air, the warp of the darkness in here.
‘No wonder they say it’s haunted,’ she whispers. ‘I’ve got goosebumps all over!’
‘Just . . . keep walking,’ says Yanny with an effort.
His faelight is starting to pulse erratically, and I hope he knows where he’s going, because I certainly don’t. We skirt an enormous yew tree, its twisting roots thick upon the broken ground, and then there’s a thunderous echo in the air and a centauride stands before us. She is taller than any man I’ve ever seen, and her brown hair twists and spirals down her shoulders. Her human torso is painted in the colours of the forest, and her hindquarters are the blue-grey of starless night.
‘What are you doing?’ she hisses, bending down to Yanny, as Zara and I stare.
‘Going home,’ Yanny says in a tight voice. ‘These are my friends. We’re fine.’
‘You have the whole of the realm of shadows about you, and the Stag draws near – you are not fine!’ she bursts, stamping her hooves. ‘You should be more careful, Yanny – your family has lost enough already. Go now, and quickly. I’ll divert these creatures.’
She stares at me, her dark eyes blazing. ‘I don’t know what you are, but you draw the shadows like darkness itself. You are not welcome here. See him home, and be gone, before you stir the rest of the kingdom to rage.’ With that, she draws her golden bow and charges into the swathe of shadows, her battle cry sending them spiralling off into the darkness.
‘That was Rory,’ says Yanny, watching her go. ‘I’ve really made a mess of today. Let’s get inside before we cause any more chaos.’
We follow mutely as he treads down the bank to the hidden entrance of his home. Rory’s words keep repeating in my mind. She could see straight away the danger I bring here. Does Yanny see it too? Will his family?
Yanny stops at the hatch, looking back at me. ‘She has a sharp tongue,’ he says, as if he’s reading my mind. ‘Don’t take it personally. She was afraid for us, and fear makes her fierce.’ He looks between Zara and me. ‘This was my fault. I was the one who got us into trouble. You should head back. Take my faelight . . .’
He thrusts it out, but Zara shakes her head.
‘Yanny . . .’
‘I know – it’s spineless to make you go back on your own. I just can’t . . . do any more right now.’
‘What did she mean, Yanny?’ I ask, knowing I shouldn’t; knowing he’s already reassured me as much as he can right now. ‘About your family having already lost too much?’
‘Not now,’ he says.
‘But I didn’t mean to put you in more danger. She said about darkness . . . I’m sorry.’
‘Pfft,’ says Zara. ‘Take no notice of that. I see no darkness in you. And besides, Yanny’s already explained, she was just cross . . .’
I nod, trying to let her words outplay Rory’s, but before we can say goodbye to Yanny, the door swings open behind him, and he topples in with a surprised yelp. His father stands bristling on the doorstep.
‘In,’ he commands. ‘All of you. All the forest is whispering of truant children. I can only imagine it’s you, Yanny . . .’ He hauls his son up none too gently and starts propelling him down the corridor. The door slams shut behind us, and the quartz in the walls flares. ‘Really, this is the last thing we needed. It’s enough to get you out to school and back without bringing more trouble.’
Zara and I look at each other as we follow Yanny and his father down the corridor. I guess we’re the trouble. My chest feels hollow, my legs like rubber. Nothing ever seems to go the way it should. I can hear Nan telling me to be careful what I wish for, and Peg saying going to school was a really dumb idea. Were they right?
I didn’t mean to bring more trouble here.
‘Look at this place, Stella!’ Zara whispers. ‘The roots, and the lights . . . and there are tiny little mushrooms growing in the walls! And flowers!’ She grins, clapping her hands together. ‘I knew there were things I didn’t know about – I just knew it!’
Her eyes dance, but before I can say anything, we’re interrupted.
‘Stella,’ says Yanny’s mum, her expression bright and wild and a little alarming as she darts at us from the kitchen. She takes us both by the wrist and draws us into the warmth. ‘Come, we must sort this out. Sit down.’
Yanny is already sitting at the table, and his father is shooing the younger kids into their bedroom. When he turns back from the door, his face is as fierce and fae as hers. The room settles into an amber glow that matches the fire in Yanny’s parents’ eyes, and Zara and I take seats on the bench by the window, shuffling together.
‘This cannot be,’ says Elowen. ‘Yanny, you are permitted to go to school, and to come home again to us. We do not forbid you friends, but we do forbid you to bring them into danger. And you found danger for yourself when you went out fighting shadows last night without permission. Look at you now. You are lucky Rory was on the prowl.’
‘I know,’ he says. ‘But, Ma—’
‘But nothing, son,’ she hisses, and her teeth are wolf-sharp, her eyes aflame. ‘We will not have this. You take too much upon your shoulders, and it is not wise. What do you think will become of us, should we lose another of you? Do you think we would survive that, Yanny?’
Yanny flinches, but he doesn’t say anything.
‘You are not to patrol,’ Fen says then. ‘And you are not to fight, Yanny. That is not your task. It is mine, and your mother’s. You may hate to see what it costs us, but that is what you must bear. We all are doing things we would rather not be doing, seeing things we wish we could unsee. This time will pass. There will be brighter days. You will have a future. That is all we ask for you.’
‘I want my future here, in the forest,’ Yanny says.
‘And we hope for that too,’ Elowen says. ‘Still, you must go to school. And you must avoid the shadows.’