Tanya moved off again, keeping close to the trees. ‘Where was Ratty taken?’ she asked, keeping her voice low. ‘How did you get away?’
The fairy wrung her hands in distress. ‘Turpin did not see where Ratty was taken. It was too fast. She was chased, by the little girl creature, until she managed to lose it in the trees.’ Her eyes darted around fearfully. ‘But it’s still here somewhere.’
‘What
was
the little girl creature?’ Tanya asked, suddenly remembering something. ‘When you saw it, you said something I didn’t understand. You said “glamour”.’
Turpin nodded vigorously. ‘Yes. Is a type of fey magic – glamour. A tricksy magic, to pretend and deceive. A way of looking like something else for a little while. Is very dangerous.’
‘So the girl was really a fairy in disguise,’ Tanya said.
‘Maybe,’ said Turpin. ‘Or maybe something else, using fey –magic.’
‘What do you mean? If it wasn’t a fairy, what was it?’
‘Turpin does not know. Only that it didn’t
feel
fey.’
Either way, the faded colouring made sense. Whatever it was had tried to imitate the girl, knowing that Tanya and Ratty had seen the poster and would try to help, but it had simply mimicked what it had seen on the weathered sheet of paper.
Turpin frowned suddenly, looking Tanya up and down. ‘Why are you not protected? Have you learned nothing, stupid girl?’
‘I . . . I didn’t think I needed to be,’ said Tanya. ‘The man who took Ratty was human, wasn’t he?’
‘He looked human!’ Turpin shook a fist at Tanya’s nose. ‘Do not trust appearances. Turn something inside out and quick about it!’ She hopped off Tanya and landed on Oberon’s back, watching like a miniature general.
Hurriedly, Tanya took off her T-shirt and pulled it back on again inside out. In her haste, she fumbled, putting an arm through the wrong way, but finally it was on. Turpin nodded, then resumed her position on Tanya’s shoulder.
‘Now here is a valuable lesson,’ she said. ‘You are protected, are you not?’
‘Y-yes?’ Tanya said uncertainly. ‘If the ways Ratty told me were true.’
‘Of course they’re true!’ Turpin said bad-temperedly. ‘You are protected. I am a fairy. And yet I can still do this—’ She reached out and gave Tanya’s nose a painful tweak.
‘Ouch!’ Tanya protested, but Turpin was not finished.
‘—and this.’ There was a sharp tug as Turpin pulled her hair.
Tanya batted the fairy’s hand away, furious. ‘What is the matter with you?’ she hissed. ‘Why do you have to be so spiteful?’
‘Shut up and listen,’ said Turpin, her eyes narrowed. ‘You are protected. And yet I, a fairy, can still do these things to hurt you. I can pinch, bite, kick, prod and poke you in the eye if I want to. And, if I were not so little, I could capture you and keep you prisoner. Are you understanding me yet?’
‘Yes,’ Tanya whispered, as Turpin’s demonstration suddenly made sense. ‘You’re saying that fairies can still hurt me. The protection only means they can’t use magic.’
‘Yes.’ Turpin released Tanya’s hair and patted her head. ‘Not so silly after all.’ She sniffed. ‘Ratty was not taken by magic. He was taken by force.’
‘What was on the rag?’ Tanya asked. ‘It made him unconscious.’
‘Some kind of human medicine probably,’ Turpin answered. She paused, about to say something else, then stopped and sniffed the air.
‘What is it?’ Tanya asked. She lifted her nose and inhaled. There was a faint scent on the air, unpleasant and harsh, but the breeze whipped it away before she could place it.
Turpin’s long, pointed ears flattened to her head like a cat’s. ‘Something is burning,’ she said. ‘They’re near.’
‘Burning?’ Immediately, Tanya thought of the camper van. She had definitely turned the hob off . . . but what if someone, or something, had started a fire, thinking Tanya was still inside? Could this be what they had meant by ‘taking care of her’? Or was it merely an attempt to force her outside and into their clutches?
‘Maybe the trees,’ said Turpin, scanning the copse around them. ‘Trying to smoke us out. Hurry. We must hurry!’
They reached the end of the wooded grove, leaving nowhere to go except out into the open meadow. Turpin saw it first and gave a horrified squeak. With one hand, she jerked on a strand of Tanya’s hair. The other was pointing across the meadow. ‘Look!’ she hissed. ‘
Look!
’
A plume of grey smoke rose across the horizon, billowing like the breath of a great dragon. Below it, orange and yellow flames danced at the river’s edge.
‘The bridge,’ Tanya whispered in horror. ‘The bridge is on fire! How are we going to get across now?’ Desperately, she searched the length of the river for any other means of escape, but there were none.
‘There’s a path that leads to another road,’ Turpin said. ‘But is a long way away. They will find us!’
‘They have to catch us first,’ said Tanya. ‘What if we keep hiding?’
Turpin shook her head. ‘Only so long we can hide for. Soon it will be dark, and we will be cold and hungry and tired. Then they’ll get us for sure. We must escape.’
Tanya remembered the strange smell she and Ratty had noticed when they crossed the bridge earlier and the wet splashes on the wood. ‘Someone threw something on to the bridge,’ she realised. ‘Some sort of oil, to make it burn. This wasn’t an accident – it’s a trap! They’ve cut off our way across so they can hunt us down.’
Turpin nodded to the bridge. ‘That is the only way.’
‘But how? Even if we get there before it collapses, we’ll have no chance against the flames or the smoke . . .’
‘We can cross it. Turpin has an idea,’ said Turpin. She climbed down from Tanya’s shoulder, ready to run. ‘But we must go. Now!’
There was nothing for Tanya to do except trust her. Taking a deep breath, they left the shelter of the trees and emerged into the wide-open meadow. Tanya’s feet pounded the ground, her heart thudding to match. She was easily the slowest of the three; Oberon and Turpin raced ahead, the uneven grass seeming to pose no problem for either of them. They had made it only a short way from the grove when a shout sounded from somewhere behind.
Tanya glanced back over her shoulder. The river girl had appeared at the edge of the trees behind and broken into a run. Tanya turned back to the river, stumbling but managing to avoid a fall. It cost her precious seconds and she fell further behind, widening the gap between herself, Turpin and Oberon.
‘Hurry!’ Turpin shrieked.
‘I’m trying,’ Tanya panted. She forced herself not to look behind; it would only slow her down. The girl creature was not close enough for her to hear yet, but already Tanya knew it was fast. Unnaturally fast. The speed at which it had chased Turpin had taken her breath away. A movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. A large, black shape was moving at twice her speed across the meadow towards her.
‘Morrigan!’ The horse drew nearer and began to slow, unsure of herself. Tanya called out again, trying to sound normal. The river girl was advancing at shocking speed. There was only one way to reach the bridge in time.
‘Morrigan,’ she coaxed, making the same clicking noise of encouragement she had heard Ratty use. ‘Here, girl!’
The horse trotted towards her, then drew to a halt, bowing her great head. Tanya slowed to a jog, afraid of scaring her. This had to work, for she could hear her pursuer’s footfall now, thundering across the field, growing ever nearer. In less than a minute, she would be upon her. She gathered her courage and the last of her energy and took a flying leap, grabbing the horse’s mane and swinging herself up on to Morrigan’s back.
Ratty had made it look easy. For Tanya, it was quite the opposite. She landed with a bump, almost sliding straight off the other side of the horse’s smooth coat. She clung to Morrigan’s mane, pulling herself level. ‘Go!’ she cried, urging the horse forward. Morrigan took a few tentative steps, as though aware she was carrying an inexperienced rider. But Tanya did not have time for that. The river girl raced towards her, breathing hard. Her faded face broke into a grin as she stretched out her hand.
Tanya dug in her heels, the way she had seen Ratty do. Morrigan leaped forward. Tanya felt the brush of fingertips skim her leg as the girl lunged for her. She yelled, kicking out again, spurring Morrigan on. A triumphant laugh burst out of her as she glanced back and saw her attacker left behind, but Morrigan moved at a remarkable pace, and without a saddle or stirrups there was nothing to keep Tanya in place. She twisted her hands into the horse’s mane and wrapped her legs as tightly as she could about Morrigan’s huge body, clinging on for dear life.
Already she was gaining on Turpin, who had almost reached the river. Oberon was only a short distance in front of her, having stopped and doubled back to bark his encouragement. ‘Come on, boy!’ she cried. ‘Keep going!’
Somehow, through the bumping and sliding, she managed to stay on, through sheer fright and determination. When she saw Turpin stop just short of the river, she tugged Morrigan’s mane to the left to direct her before slowing her down altogether. When she finally came to a halt, Tanya’s legs still felt weak as she slid off and landed, jarring her ankle. She gritted her teeth through the pain. She had at least got her breath back now, and the river girl still had ground to cover. Morrigan had bought them precious time, but moments only. She sank her fingers into the horse’s silky mane, feeling the velvet nose and warm huff of horse breath on her cheek.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered. She ran her hand over the smooth coat and gave Morrigan’s flank a firm pat, sending her on her way. There was no time for a long goodbye.
‘So, what now?’ she asked Turpin, coughing. Now they were up close to the bridge, the flames danced dangerously high and the wind sent gusts of choking smoke towards them. Crackles filled the air as the wood was devoured. Smaller parts had charred and broken off already, floating downstream like blackened limbs. Though most of the bridge was still intact, the heat from the flames would prevent them going anywhere near it.
‘We wait,’ said Turpin. She ducked as a shimmering orange flake of wood floated past her, then surveyed the meadow.
‘Wait?’ Tanya said incredulously. ‘We don’t have time to wait! She’ll be here before we know it!’
‘She will not make it in time,’ said Turpin. ‘The bridge will not hold.’ She sniffed the air. ‘This fire was started by magic.’
As she spoke, a chunk of the bridge’s handrail fell away, landing in the water with a hiss. It drifted a couple of feet then came to rest, prevented from going further by rocks either side of the river. The fire roared higher and the bridge creaked in protest. A supporting beam underneath was next to depart, crashing into the water.
‘It’s going,’ Turpin said, shielding her face from the heat. ‘Get ready.’
A terrible groaning rose above the crackling flames. The bridge began to lean to one side, sinking low, like a creature in pain.
There was a moment where it seemed to resist and hung suspended for a couple of seconds before finally collapsing with a mighty crash into the pea-green water, sending up clouds of ash and smoke. The broken bridge lay in a mound, most of the flames now extinguished. Finally, Tanya could see what Turpin had planned.
‘Come on,’ the fairy said. Nimbly, she edged down the sloping mud and began to pick her way across the smoking pile. Tentatively, Tanya followed, moving carefully on her jarred ankle. There were still enough pieces of the bridge left for them to clamber across without having to venture into the water and risk facing Nessie Needleteeth, but they would have to be fast. Though it was still holding together, the fire had weakened it, and chunks were breaking away and being swept off by the current.
Tanya stepped on to the wrecked bridge, watchful for any movement in the water. Even though she was protected, the thought of seeing Nessie Needleteeth was enough to put her on edge. However, the thought of being caught by their pursuer was somehow worse and, as the sound of ragged breathing reached her ears, she knew that they were almost out of time. She shooed Oberon ahead, testing the charred wood beneath her feet. The air was thick with smoke and ash, and she brought her sleeve up to cover her mouth and nose.
Something snapped behind. Tanya looked back, fearing the bridge was about to collapse further, but it was worse. The river girl was climbing down the bank towards the bridge, clawing through the charred debris. Brushing away splinters of wood, she looked up at them through matted blonde hair and stepped on to the bridge.
At the sound of Tanya’s horrified gasp, Turpin looked back. Her eyes widened.
‘Run!’ she squeaked.
The thing pretending to be the little river girl gave a hideous grin . . . then lunged straight for them.
11
The Chase
T
ANYA SCRAMBLED OVER THE BROKEN wood, desperate to put distance between herself and the thing behind. Splintered wood tore at her clothing and scraped her skin, slowing her down. Holding her back. Just ahead of her, Turpin was faring slightly better, but not by much. Her small face was streaked with ash and her wing was quivering helplessly, a segment of it torn and fluttering.
Behind them, the girl creature grunted and cursed in its efforts to reach them. Tanya glanced back again. Fear lent her fresh strength and she surged forward, finding herself almost level with Turpin. The fairy’s breath came in short rasps. The race across the meadow had sapped her energy, making her movements clumsy and slow.
Tanya took another quick look over her shoulder. The girl was making quick progress towards them, not seeming to care that her skin was becoming cut and bloodied as she crawled on hands and knees over the wood.
‘If Turpin still had magic, she would send it into the water,’ Turpin panted. Her face twisted viciously. ‘Leaving Nessie Needleteeth to crunch its bones.’
‘She could just as easily crunch ours if we fall in,’ Tanya said. She freed Turpin’s wing from yet another spike of wood. ‘Jump on to my shoulder, I’ll take you across.’
Turpin shook her head and struggled on. ‘No. It will slow us down and make us easier to catch. Go, fast as you can. Don’t wait!’