The Feral Child Read online

  “Come again?”

  “The. Tree. Is. Staring. At. Me,” said Danny in a low voice. “And it doesn’t look happy.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Maddy glanced at the tree and saw two brown eyes that glared at her malevolently. They flicked between herself and Danny, then began to roll menacingly as the two of them took a step back. Suddenly, the eyes shot forward, and a woody mouth splintered apart.

  “BOO!” it shouted.

  Maddy and Danny stumbled backward and watched, open-mouthed, as a piece of bark began to pull itself away from the tree and clamber down to the ground. As it walked toward them with a rolling gait, she could see a short body with long arms and legs, finished off by huge hands and feet that sported long, knobbly fingers and toes. What she first thought was a branch with a couple of leaves perched gamely on the end of it turned out to be the creature’s nose. Its head stopped at about mid-thigh on Danny and it cocked its head to look up at them. Its massive eyes blinked in its woody face.

  “What is it?” whispered Danny.

  “It’s a dryad,” breathed Roisin behind them. “A faerie that lives in trees.”

  “I’s not an it!” the woody man snapped.

  “Sorry,” said Roisin, turning crimson. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just that . . .”

  “Doesn’t matter if you didn’t mean to. You did,” he said.

  They looked at each other. Maddy cleared her throat. “Well, my name is Maddy, and this is Danny and Roisin.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Danny and Roisin murmured.

  They all stood there shifting uneasily from foot to foot as the little man continued to glare at them.

  Maddy decided to try again. “What’s your name?”

  “None of your business.”

  “But we told you our names!” protested Maddy.

  “Don’t care. Didn’t hear me ask for them, did you?” said the dryad.

  “Oh, for pity’s sake, Hobbs, tell them your name, and try to be a little bit civil,” sighed a voice above them. Another piece of pine tree began to climb down toward them. This one was taller and thinner than Hobbs, and stiff pine needles sprang out from his head like an Afro.

  “Civil? To this lot?” shrieked Hobbs. “You know what they are, don’t you, Izzie? Men! Great, big, stinking sacks of meat—you can smells them for miles! And with men come fire and axes.”

  “We don’t mean any harm!” cried Roisin. “And we haven’t got any axes or matches or anything like that.”

  “But you’ve got iron,” said Hobbs. “I can smells it. The whole forest tastes of it.”

  The forest began to rustle, and the trees that surrounded the clearing shivered as more dryads climbed down. They began to gather around, creaking and rustling, one or two of them smacking their own jaws to get them working.

  The clearing filled with dryads. Soon the air was busy with their chattering. Even the enormous trees seemed to bend down as if to listen. Some waved their hands as they talked, and Maddy noticed some of them jabbing their fingers in her direction. A slim dryad female with silver hair and skin and black eyes was making her way to the front of the crowd.

  Roisin took a step toward Izzie and Hobbs, who were arguing fiercely in a scratchy language. She cleared her throat. “Excuse me,” she said. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but could someone tell me where we are?”

  Hobbs snorted. “If you don’t know that, girl, then you don’t have much of an imagination.”

  Izzie smiled at her. “You’re in an older world, a world that humankind barely remembers.”

  “But we made this up,” said Danny.

  At this there were angry murmurs in the crowd.

  “How did you make this world up, human child?” asked Izzie.

  “From stories and faerie tales—stuff we remembered from when we were little,” said Danny.

  The dryads began to laugh.

  “And where do you think these stories came from?” snorted Hobbs. “They is echoes of what your ancestors remembered from when we walked the land with them, when they were squatting in their own filth and drawing on cave walls!”

  “But I don’t understand,” said Maddy. “The stag told us what we knew would bring us power—we thought he meant magic, to help us get Stephen and go back home.”

  The dryads began to talk very animatedly among themselves. Izzie grabbed Maddy by the arms. “A stag let you in here, do you say? A white stag?”

  “Yes, yes—do you know who he is? What did he mean when he said we would have power?”

  Izzie looked at her with eyes full of pity. “I think he meant that what you knew would guide you and help you stay alive,” he said.

  Maddy stared back at him in horror. This was getting much too serious. She hadn’t signed up for mortal danger.

  Roisin stared at her with wide eyes. “We’re going to die?” she asked.

  “Hopefully,” said Hobbs.

  Furious, Maddy turned on him. “I’ve got a poker in my hand, you know. Do you want a smack?”

  “Try it, meat bag,” sneered the dryad.

  “Stop it!” insisted Izzie, while Hobbs bristled indignantly. “Go home, human child,” he advised sadly. “There’s no place for you in the woods and rivers wild. Your friend is lost.”

  “He can’t be,” said Maddy.

  Izzie shook his head. “The Winter Queen has him. There is no hope. Go home.”

  “Who is the Winter Queen?” asked Roisin.

  “Liadan—the wife of Cernunnos, the Horned God, and queen of the Winter Court,” piped up a nut-brown dryad with a deeply wrinkled face.

  Hobbs spat on the ground. “Queen, if you please!” he sneered. “She’s an uppity elf and no better than she should be. If Cernunnos weren’t so taken with her big eyes, he would have sent her and her family packing long ago.”

  “Hush, Hobbs, you’ll get in terrible trouble saying things like that,” said Izzie, his eyes scanning the forest around them, while the other dryads whimpered and cowered.

  “Don’t you shush me. I won’t stands for it!” The little dryad was practically jumping up and down on the spot with rage. “I am saying what all of you is thinking and none of you has the guts to say out loud. Cernunnos is befuddled and bewitched by a common elf. Nothing but trouble here since her and her kind arrived, dragging all kinds of human trash through the land. It’s bad enough she takes them for pets; now we have to put up with their kith and kin chasing after them, stinking the place up with their iron.” He pointed a finger at Maddy. “She lets a bunch of you in every now and then, and until you die in here, we have to put up with the pollution of the worst of your emotions, the dregs of your id, every nightmare that haunts you. Go back to where you came from, you filthy, filthy creatures!”

  With that, Hobbs turned and stomped up to his tree, melting away into the bark. Izzie wrung his hands and shifted nervously from foot to foot, swiveling his ears toward the rustling behind him as one by one the other dryads moved to slip away from the clearing.

  Maddy looked at him. “This Liadan has taken kids before?”

  He nodded. “Every now and then since she came, we have seen her riding through the woods with a child asleep in her arms.”

  “Has she ever given them back?”

  “No one has ever come after them before,” said Izzie. “And she already knows you are here. The wolves of the White Tower have been playing games with you—I saw.”

  “The wolves are hers?” asked Danny.

  “They are not faerie kind, but she gives them protection, and they watch for her,” said Izzie.

  “Help us!” said Roisin, rushing up to him. “We can’t leave him here. You must understand that. We’ll go home as soon as we get him, and we can leave quicker with your help.”

  The dryad’s Afro quivered, and his shoulders shook as he wrung his hands. “No,” he said, his voice hoarse with fear. “I can’t do that. None of us can.”

  Roisin’s face crumpled with disappointment, but Danny
looked over at Maddy, his expression hard and determined.

  Maddy looked back at Izzie and swung the poker on to her shoulder.

  “You’re not going to help us?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  “Well, get lost then. We’re not a freak show.”

  High, mocking laughter rang through the clearing, and the sharp sound of a slow handclap. The remaining dryads looked up and froze where they were, terrified.

  What now? Maddy thought.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Well said, little mortal,” said a harsh voice from a treetop. “You would make a fine pet.”

  “I’m no pet,” Maddy called out, searching for the speaker in the trees.

  Snow thudded to the ground as a faerie sprang from a branch and fluttered gracefully down to land just in front of Maddy. Roisin gave a little scream and ran back through the clearing to cling to Danny. As Maddy’s jaw dropped, she heard Danny suck his breath in behind her.

  The faerie standing in front of her was no delicate little sprite. She loomed over Maddy, long and lean with ropes of muscle throughout her every limb. Maddy had to tip her head back to look at her; she had to be seven feet tall. Her skin was bone white and tattooed with pale gray Celtic patterns. Every inch of her was covered with the swirling marks, from the tips of her fingers to the edge of her hairline. Silver scars marked her, from fights she had probably won. Her long white hair was stiffened and combed high above her head and away from her face, dropping down her back. Everything about her, from her fingers to her face, was unnaturally long. Her nose was hooked, and her mouth was thin and cruel. Her gossamer wings were covered in frost patterns, their beauty marred by a torn and trailing piece of skin and tissue in the lower half of the left wing. Her feet and legs were bandaged in soft white leather, and gold arm-rings bound straining muscles. Fine linen was wrapped around her breasts and between her legs, the skirt torn to the thigh and trailing behind her in ragged strips. A whip was coiled at her waist. Her eyes were blood red, with no whites and as cold and indifferent as a bird of prey’s. She was terrifying and magnificent at the same time. The dryads huddled behind her looked like old sticks in comparison.

  “Not all has been well today in this little paradise of ours,” said the faerie. She kept her eyes on Maddy as she paced around her. “The stink of iron is in my nose and the rank taste of it on my tongue. The sun is taking an age to go down. It sits there, half over the horizon, and I can’t get my beauty sleep. It puzzles me greatly. But then I smell blood and I rejoice because it must be the Samhain Fesh, and mortals have come looking for war.” She stopped pacing and looked down at Maddy, her lip curling into a sneer. “But what do I find? Insects, and no worthy opponent in sight.”

  “The sun won’t set?” Maddy heard Danny say behind her. His voice was high with relief. She looked over her shoulder at him. What are you doing? she mouthed. But he was so happy he just kept talking. “Don’t you see? He’s helping us, the stag, Cernunnos. You said we had to cross over on Halloween night—he’s keeping the door open for us until we find Stephen.” He looked at the red-eyed faerie. “Your boss is looking out for us, which means you can’t touch us.”

  Roisin hid her face in Danny’s shoulder as the faerie paced closer.

  “Is that so, little man?” the faerie said, bending at the waist until her blood-filled eyes were level with Danny’s. “It’s a pity for you that Cernunnos isn’t my ‘boss.’ The stag doesn’t scare the hound.”

  “But . . . But he rules in here, right? He’s the Horned God, the big cheese?” Danny gulped.

  The faerie raised a pale eyebrow. “Cernunnos does not hold sway in the Winter Court. My pledge is given to the Winter Queen, and no one else can command me.”

  “Who are you, then, and what do you want?” asked Maddy.

  The creature swiveled slowly on her heel and began to pace around Maddy again. “I am Fachtna. I whip the hounds to the hunt, and when my queen calls for it, I head her war band. I am the strong arm that strikes when my queen is displeased.” She bent down so fast Maddy had to take a step back. Her breath steamed in the air between them. “You will show me respect.”

  Maddy nodded.

  Fachtna walked over to a thick oak and leaned against the tree. It shuddered and lifted its branches higher as her tattooed skin touched the bark. She looked at the dryads, who waited fearfully.

  “Go,” she commanded. “I have no business with dryads.”

  Izzie gave Maddy an apologetic look, but he ran as fast as the others from the clearing. The little dryads melted away into their trees, and all that was left of them were a few leaves shaken loose from the branches that drifted in the wind.

  Fachtna stretched out one scarred arm and examined her talons. “You are fortunate, human child. My queen is wise and just. You amuse her. I’ve come here with a bargain.”

  “I don’t trust any faeries enough to bargain with them,” said Maddy.

  Fachtna threw her head back and laughed, showing off teeth that had been filed to points.

  “And you would be wise, little pet, not to do so,” she said. “But I think you will like this contract.”

  “I’m listening,” said Maddy.

  “Queen Liadan finds your devotion to the mortal child touching. She bids me tell you that you may come to her in the White Tower and take him back. He is unharmed, and she will not lay a finger on you until he is in your arms,” said Fachtna.

  “And what do I have to give in return?” asked Maddy.

  “You must provide her with sport,” said Fachtna. “Once you have the child, you can try to go home. But the hunt will pursue you. I and my scucca hounds will chase you. And if I catch you, your life and that of your companions is forfeit.”

  “What if we decide to turn around and go home now?” asked Danny.

  Fachtna smiled at him. “Then there is no contract, and the hunt is unleashed. The deal is that you all come and you all run before me.”

  “What’s the catch?” Maddy asked. “There always is a catch with you lot.”

  “That’s a puzzle for you to solve,” said Fachtna.

  “Liadan . . .” began Roisin, before Fachtna stopped her with a glare. “Sorry, Queen Liadan, says she won’t try to stop us coming for Stephen. Can any other faerie try to stop us or hurt us in any way?”

  Fachtna smiled broadly. “Clever pet—I’ll let you die first. No, the promise is that no faerie may seek to do you harm. But you have to come on your own, with no help.”

  “Can we have help getting away?” asked Maddy.

  “If you can find any brave enough to give it,” said Fachtna.

  Roisin and Danny looked at Maddy. “I don’t see what choice we’ve got,” said Roisin.

  “Why should we agree to anything she says?” Danny objected. “She could be telling us anything. It could be a trap.”

  “Because faeries can’t lie, can you?” said Roisin.

  Fachtna put her hand on her heart and bowed low. “My mouth is pure.”

  “What’s stopping you from just killing Stephen anyway?” asked Maddy.

  “If we did that, you would not fight so hard or run so hard. You wouldn’t have any hope to be crushed,” said Fachtna. “Failed hope gives despair a much stronger taste.”

  Maddy thought the terms of the contract over in her mind. She couldn’t find a catch, but Granda had told her never to strike a bargain with a faerie. But then, Granda had never been this far from home.

  “Fine,” she said. “We come to you unopposed by any faerie, and we take Stephen back unharmed. Then we’ll see what happens.”

  “You give your word?” asked Fachtna.

  “I give you my word,” said Maddy.

  “All of you?” the faerie pressed.

  Danny and Roisin looked at each other, their faces grim.

  “We do,” they said.

  “Your word is cast, as is my queen’s,” said Fachtna. “None can be released from it until you are dead or the hounds thwarted.�
�� She smiled her ghastly smile. “And I always catch my prey.”

  With that she launched herself into the air, a white blur against the sky, and she was gone.

  Maddy sighed and her shoulders sagged under the weight of her fear. She had no idea what they had all just agreed to. She thought of her warm bed. I want to sleep forever, she thought. I want to curl up under my duvet, and I want this all to go away when the book closes.

  Instead, she lifted George from Roisin’s arms and put him on the ground, snapping the leash on to his collar. She pushed her way through the undergrowth and found the path continued ahead, starting up from the ring of trees as if the huge plants had simply shifted their weight on to it for a little while. She didn’t look to see if Roisin and Danny were following, but she could hear them walking behind her.

  No birds or little faeries came near them, and the forest was hushed. Every twig broken underfoot cracked through the silence and made them jump. As her fear subsided, Maddy began to get angry. She was cold, hungry, and worn out with fear. She wanted someone on whom to take out her temper, and the more she thought about it, the more obvious it seemed.

  She stopped on the path and turned to look at Danny.

  He halted in front of her.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “You know, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been a nasty, mouthy git who has no problem using his fists on people,” she said, as she got right up into his face. “So do you want to explain what happened back there?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Oh, you know, the wolves, the dryads, Fachtna issuing death threats, and you just standing there with your gob hanging open, letting me and Roisin do all the talking. It’s just that you always seem so brave when you’re picking on me or your sister, I was wondering why you turned so chicken when we really needed you to do something.”

  Roisin groaned and threw herself down on the grass. “Do you two have to get into it every half-hour? We’re not going to get anywhere at this rate.”

  “And where is it exactly that we’re going, thanks to her?” said Danny. “Did you hear her? She actually agreed to our being hunted. It’s like a bad horror movie. I didn’t sign up for this.”