The Dreamsnatcher (21 page)

‘Get her water!’ Mooshie told Siddy. ‘Quick!’

As Siddy ran off for a bucket, Moll spoke, her voice tight and rasping, like someone was squeezing it out of her. She looked up into Gryff’s eyes, as if only he could hear.
‘Skull’s chanting for me back in his camp. I can hear the drum and rattle again, it’s like he’s only calling me this time – but he’s stronger now he knows my
name,’ she whispered. ‘And it – it’s like my mind’s closing down – like it doesn’t belong to me any more.’ For a second, she looked almost peaceful.
‘Like there isn’t any point in fighting it . . .’

‘You’ve got to fight it, Moll!’ Oak said. ‘Fight back against the Dream Snatch.’

‘If I give up, the Shadowmasks’ll leave you alone. It’s only me they’re after . . .’

‘Don’t listen to it, Moll!’ Alfie cried.

Moll was silent for a few seconds as the Dream Snatch crowded in. And then she gasped. ‘I – I can see my nightmare inside my mind – clearer than I’ve ever seen it before
. . .’ She choked on her words and, when she coughed, blood stained the cloth Mooshie held to her face. ‘I can see the Shadowmasks. But there’s only five of them, and – and
– my parents are there too!’ Moll closed her eyes; she was sobbing now. Her body contorted and then her jaw shuddered as she fought the Dream Snatch, trying to use its power but not let
it take her completely.

Gryff pawed at Moll’s skirt and looked deep into her eyes.

‘Do something, Oak!’ Mooshie shouted. ‘A child isn’t meant to go through this – to see what she’ll see. We need to help her!’

Cinderella Bull put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Moll will see how the Shadowmasks kill . . . If she can handle the Dream Snatch.’

‘It’s not right!’ Mooshie cried.

Oak took Mooshie’s hands. ‘Moosh, we’ve never known the truth about how the Shadowmasks kill. If we know what happened to Moll’s parents then we’ve got a chance of
stopping them.’

Moll tore her hair against the pulsing rhythms of the Dream Snatch, sweat glistening on her chest. She looked into Gryff’s eyes, begging him to rescue her. But she had to stay inside the
nightmare – she knew that – because she had to unlock the last part of her memory. She closed her eyes.

Her mother was there, lying on the bank of the river, her green eyes wide with fear as one Shadowmask pinned her down by her arms and another clutched her long black hair in
a fist to hold her still. Nearby was a tall, strong man – her father – and he was fighting against the other three Shadowmasks. But they had surrounded him now and were forcing him to
his knees. They bound his hands and held him to the ground. And then the Shadowmasks’ chant began:

And from the shadows came a figure, with wild black hair surrounding a mask of charcoaled wood, like burnt skin. It prowled forward, drawing in the enormous leathery wings
that jutted from its back and trailed along the ground. In its long, thin fingers, the figure held a splinter of black ice that didn’t seem to melt. It stole closer to Moll’s parents,
its mask raised high, and then it towered over Moll’s mother, lifting the Soul Splinter above her mouth. Moll’s mother screamed, but the Shadowmasks held her fast and, as she panted
into the night, the Soul Splinter began to melt and droplets of black dripped into her mouth. Her eyes widened, drowning in horror, then she lay still.

Her father recoiled as the Soul Splinter came towards him, but he was powerless against the Shadowmasks and, like droplets of death, the ice fell into his mouth. Moll watched as a blanket of
darkness enfolded the scene.

And then she screamed.

‘This isn’t my nightmare any more! It’s gone – gone! It’s just the Dream Snatch now and I can’t escape it!’ She ripped at her ears, thrashing her head
from side to side. ‘I can hear Skull’s chanting and muttering! I can hear the wax squelching through his fingers! And I can hear another voice – it’s the Shadowmask with the
face of slate I’ve just seen! He’s saying my name, like he’s come for me!’

Moll struggled to get up, but Oak pinned her down.

‘He’s saying it over and over again:
Hemlock’s come for you, Moll. Give yourself up to the Dream Snatch!
’

Moll’s body began to shake uncontrollably. ‘Help me, Gryff! Help me!’

Gryff wrapped his body round Moll’s, but she continued to shudder, wrestling beneath his weight.

‘Fight it, Moll!’ Oak cried. ‘You can beat it!’

Cinderella Bull bent closer over the strawberries Moll had spat out. And then she gasped. ‘These berries aren’t what they seem. See here – these white seeds . . . I’d
know them anywhere. They’re
hemlock
seeds –
poisonous
seeds. And they’ve been growing inside our berries!’

Oak’s face was grave. ‘The second Shadowmask’s come for Moll in the very form of his name.’

And then it dawned on Alfie, clear as day. He limped away from the gathering and up the steps to Moll’s wagon. Moments later, he returned with a small phial of black liquid. Mooshie looked
at him guardedly. Beneath her, Moll was crying out against the Dream Snatch, tossing from side to side.

‘Mellantha gave it to us,’ Alfie explained as he unscrewed the lid. ‘She said Moll’d need it:
You’ll need it when they’re fighting for your mind
, she
said. Maybe – maybe it’s a cure for the hemlock berries!’

Cinderella Bull blinked. ‘An antidote to the poison?’

Alfie nodded.

No one moved. Alfie could feel their distrust. But it was Gryff who acknowledged him first. He stepped back from Moll and stood before Alfie with shining eyes. Moll’s eyes. And then he
dipped his head.

‘Go on,’ Mooshie said quietly. ‘We trust you.’

Alfie bent over Moll and tipped the black liquid into her mouth. For several seconds, Moll continued to shudder and shout but, as the antidote felt its way into her body, the fever withdrew and
she lay on the ground, panting but free.

The Shadowmasks had come for her, but she’d broken their Dream Snatch.

And beyond the river, in their darkened lair, Skull and Hemlock knew it.

I
t was night but no one slept. Even the youngest members of the camp lay awake in their wagons, wide-eyed with fear. Gryff sat just back from the
campfire, facing out towards the trees, his ears swivelling at the slightest noise. And around the fire, sitting on tree stumps, were the Elders, together with Moll, Alfie and Siddy.

Hard-Times Bob puffed on his pipe. ‘You did well, Moll – fighting back against the Dream Snatch like that.’

Moll pulled the rug tighter around her. ‘I don’t understand why the Dream Snatch opened up the last bits of my nightmare. Why do the Shadowmasks want me to know about the Soul
Splinter?’

Cinderella Bull stoked the fire and her gold-penny shawl jangled. ‘They don’t. The Shadowmasks wanted you to give yourself up to Hemlock’s poison and their Dream Snatch. They
thought, now they know your name, they’d be strong enough to destroy your mind, but you fought back before they could work their curse in full. And, in fighting back so hard, you uncovered
the memory they wanted you to forget.’

Gryff crept towards the fire and burrowed beneath Moll’s rug, away from the eyes of the camp. Then he leant against Moll’s legs.

Alfie frowned. ‘But the hemlock inside the berries, how did they get it in there? You’ve got your people guarding the camp from the trees the whole time.’

Oak shook his head. ‘Hemlock didn’t need to touch those berries – or even come close to the camp. He must’ve worked his curse from a distance, and that’s when Moll
saw him between the trees.’

Siddy shifted on his stool, cuddling his earthworm close. ‘And to think poor Porridge the Second could’ve eaten those berries.’

Patti threw him a scathing look.

Alfie turned to Cinderella Bull. ‘This Soul Splinter – the shard of black ice that one of the Shadowmasks dripped into Moll’s parents’ mouths. How can something like that
kill
people?’

Cinderella Bull was silent for several seconds, then she looked at Moll. ‘You know, don’t you, child?’

Moll looked down at her toes and nodded.

‘How do you know?’ Siddy asked.

Moll looked up. ‘Because I
felt
it – the horror and the darkness all seeping into my bones at once – and I heard their chant, the one worse than the Dream Snatch . .
.’ She took a deep breath and beneath her rug Gryff wound his tail round her ankle. ‘The Soul Splinter is filled with the darkest curses.’

Cinderella Bull nodded. ‘There’ll be curses in there darker than the deepest night, more rotten than decaying fungus.’

Moll shrank further inside her rug. ‘The Shadowmasks tore away their shadows – their
souls
– for a reason.’ She paused. ‘They’ve locked them inside the
Soul Splinter and that’s how they kill: they drip their cursed souls into the mouths of their victims and the darkness that grows in them is too much for any living soul.’

The fire crackled on into the inky darkness, but no one spoke.

Then Alfie rummaged in his pocket and drew out the tattered rag Mellantha had given them on which was written:

SHADOW
MASKS

Limping, he pulled his stool nearer Moll’s. ‘The letters,’ he said quietly. ‘S for Skull . . . H for Hemlock . . .’

Moll’s eyes widened. ‘Just like Mellantha said:
Think about the letters, the word. It’s all there
. It’s a pattern, isn’t it?’

Cinderella Bull peered at the rag, then nodded grimly. ‘And you’ve got to see it through.’

Siddy pointed to the letters. ‘If Skull came with the Dream Snatch and Hemlock with the poison, maybe every Shadowmask has a different curse.’ He paused. ‘Who does the Soul
Splinter belong to?’

Moll shuddered. ‘The Master – that’s what the others called him.’ She looked up at Oak. ‘But I saw something else. Something I know you saw too, when you found my
parents. Something which none of us will know how to explain.’

Oak hung his head. Mooshie raised a hand to her mouth.

‘The Shadowmasks had shaved my parents’ heads.’

And to that not even Cinderella Bull had an answer.

As they made their way to their wagons, Cinderella Bull stopped in her tracks. She was clasping her obsidian fortune-telling ball and her eyes were closed.

‘Oak,’ she said gravely.

Oak hurried over and Moll followed with Gryff.

‘I can see them coming – as clear as if I’m looking at a picture.’ Her voice sounded distant, like an echo. ‘Skull and all of his gang, with the hounds at their
feet, straining forward on their leashes. They know Moll broke their Dream Snatch. They’ll come from the Deepwood – and they’ll come tonight.’

Her voice stopped suddenly, like a tap being turned off, and her eyes opened. They flitted over Moll’s and Gryff’s faces and then rested upon Oak.

‘We haven’t got much time.’

N
ight deepened. Oak’s camp was silent and still, as if holding its breath. Tucked up in the branches of the Sacred Oaks, they waited.

Mist slunk into the clearing below them, settling on the branches of the trees like an unwanted guest. All of the wagons had been bolted and the cobs and greyhounds tethered to trees hidden deep
within the Ancientwood. Even the chickens and, on Siddy’s insistence, Porridge the Second had been caged up and concealed.

The embers of a fire glowed in the middle of the clearing, turning the hanging mist to amber, and, far above this, Moll, Gryff and Alfie crouched inside the biggest of the Sacred Oaks. Siddy had
been prised away into another tree to take care of his baby sister, but, on the branch below Moll, Cinderella Bull, Mooshie, Oak and their sons huddled.

Gryff leant into Moll and she ran a hand along his back. He’d keep her safe. She’d seen him leap from the tallest branches of a beech tree and land on his feet unscathed. She tucked
her knees under her chin; so long as Gryff was with her, she’d be all right.