The Owl Keeper (25 page)

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in ice, the black rocks crouched along the path. Even the sky looked frozen.

Sleet began falling like frozen knives. Cold and miserable, Max looked uncertainly around. His owl, her feathers soaked with ice and snow, fluttered ahead of them, urging them on. Without warning the path widened, opening out onto a vast, frozen plain. It struck him as the kind of place where battles had been won and lost centuries ago, a place where ancient ghosts might walk.

Through the ice and sleet he could make out a line of jagged shapes ahead, looming against the sky. Fear pressed against his chest.

"I see shapes!" shouted Rose. "It's a castle!"

Max let out a sigh of relief. Maybe their luck was turning. He could see a high stone wall that curved for miles into the distance, its watchtowers jutting up at intervals: sturdy stone turrets with narrow windows cut into the sides.

His owl gave a joyful hoot.

"It's a medieval fortress, Rose! It has to be!" Max said, his excitement mounting. He envisioned a castle bristling with weapons and soldiers. "They built them around cities for protection, with towers and parapets and windows for shooting arrows out of! I saw pictures in Gran's books, but I didn't think there were any still standing. This is unbelievable!"

"That's in the poem!" said Rose, her eyes growing wide. "
'The fortress old'!"

Max hadn't even thought of that. Could this be the place they'd been searching for? he wondered. Light spilled down from the crimson moon, infusing the snow with a reddish glow. As they rushed over the icy ground, his heart filled with hope. Soon they

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stood before a turret built of flat, square stones. Three enormous stone steps led to a huge door, which stood slightly ajar, almost as if someone were expecting them.

"Is this the Owl Keeper's house?" asked Rose.

Before Max could answer, a howl shattered the night. He felt the blood drain from his skull. The silver owl dove down and into his pocket.

Hardly daring to breathe, he turned to see, a few yards away, three black wolves crouched on their haunches. His gut went numb as he realized that the crimson light wasn't coming from the moon--it was coming from their eyes.

He pulled Rose protectively against him.

"Get in the turret!" he ordered, pushing her up the steps. "Quick!"

Rose flew up the icy steps, Helios clambering after her. The wolves sprang to their feet, shaking ice from their fur. Their bodies were gaunt and abnormally thin, and their eyes had a ravenous gleam. Max could see white foam dripping from their mouths.

"Max!" screamed Rose from the turret entrance. "Max, come inside!" She started back down the steps.

Eyes burning, the largest wolf began to make low, guttural, menacing sounds deep inside its throat. Max had never heard such terrifying growls.

Emboldened, he stood on the bottom step, eyeing the wolves defiantly. For once in his life, he was determined to be brave. He'd fight the wolves to the death if he had to. He would do anything to protect Rose and his silver owl.

Then his eyes widened in horror as they began running toward him.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

[Image: The owl.]

P aralyzed, Max watched the wolves streak toward him. Flecks of dirty foam flew from their mouths. He was beyond panic, beyond fear. This is how it ends, he thought, astonished that his life could be over so quickly.

"Max!" screamed Rose, clattering down the steps behind him.

Max felt her mitten touch his head, dispelling all thoughts of death, and whirling around, he caught hold of her hand. They raced up the steps and into the turret, slamming the door behind them.

Gasping for breath, Max lay on the cold stone floor, astonished

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to be alive, Rose sprawled next to him. The owl struggled out of his pocket and into the air.

"Rose--" he said, rising to his knees. "Rose, can you see?"

A snarling plague wolf thudded against the door, knocking it open. Helios reared up, barking. Too frightened to scream, Max scrabbled to his feet, hauling Rose off the floor.

The wolf crouched down, hackles raised, its eyes the color of burning blood, ready to spring.

"Max, watch out!" screamed Rose, pointing to a second wolf. Smaller than the first, it looked wilder. The wolf stood poised in the doorway, its eyes consumed with rage. Max threw his arms protectively around Rose.

Then, emitting a harsh shriek, the silver owl swooped down. Max clung to Rose in terror, thinking how his owl was so brave--but she could never fight off such a powerful creature. The owl dove at the larger wolf, sinking her claw's into its fur. The wolf shook her off with a startled yelp. Jaws snapping, the smaller wolf leapt up, but the owl was too swift. Max watched in breathless admiration as she somersaulted in the air, then flew at the wolf, raking her claws down its snout.

With a surprised cry it sprang back, colliding with the other wolf, and both went flying down the icy steps. Rose kicked at the door just as the third wolf lunged. With a sharp growl it sank its teeth into her boot and tore it off her foot. Grabbing Rose's coat, Max yanked her away before the beast could get her leg. Helios uttered a savage growl and the wolf, startled, backed away.

"My boot!" cried Rose, holding up her bare foot.

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Max grabbed his rucksack and slammed it against the wolf, knocking the animal off its legs and down the steps.

Heart thumping, he tried to close the door, but it kept springing open. "I can't shut it!" he shouted to Rose in a panic. "The hinges are broken!"

"Think of something!" she wailed. "They'll be back!"

If only he could devise a brilliant rescue plan. But Max's thoughts were in disarray and his heart was pounding so loud he couldn't think straight. Through the half-open door he saw the wolves leaping at the owl as she circled above them, shrieking and beating her wings.

Terrified for his owl, Max whistled to her, but she kept on circling, distracting the wolves. What if they caught her? he worried. She might be clever, but she'd have no chance against them one-on-one. The thought of losing his owl was too much to bear.

"The window!" cried Rose, launching herself across the turret. "We can fit through it, right?" Standing on her toes, she peered out the narrow window.

Max rushed over and squeezed in next to her, then leaned out. His stomach dropped to his feet. He was astounded to see a steep descent into darkness, endless and terrifying. The fortress, he realized, had been built at the edge of a massive cliff.

"Bad idea," muttered Rose, her face crestfallen. "Sorry."

With a jolt Max realized that at the bottom of the cliff was what appeared to be a city, its buildings dark and frozen and jumbled together, locked inside layers of permafrost. It looked ancient--as if no one had been there for hundreds of years.

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"Rose," he cried, hope rising in his chest. "That could be Silvern! That's where we have to go!"

"Yeah, well," she muttered, "we'll need parachutes to get down there."

But Max hardly heard her. Helios was barking again and outside the turret the wolves were growling. The two children ran to the door, throwing their weight against it. Through the gap Max watched in fascinated terror as the wolves snapped at the owl in frenzied leaps, blood streaming from their snouts. Shrieking, the owl swooped down, talons outstretched.

To Max's puzzlement, everything suddenly went quiet. Ears pricked, the wolves paused. Helios whined softly. The silver owl hung motionless in the air.

"Hear that?" whispered Rose. "Wings! Loose, flappy, squeaky wings!"

Max strained to listen. From the depths of the forest came the familiar, gut-wrenching sound from his dreams. Moments later, the frenzied beating of wings filled the air, and he felt his sun tattoo grow cold as ice.

"Skræsks!" he gasped. His silver owl couldn't fight them off too! She was just one little owl, not an army.

"Max, quick!" Rose shouted. He turned to see her kneeling on the floor, tugging on a huge rusted ring attached to a square of beaten metal. "It's a trapdoor, like the one in the barn in Cavernstone Grey." She grunted as she pulled. "It could be an escape route!"

He rushed over and clutched the ring, pulling with all his strength. But the trapdoor held fast. You've got to do this, he told

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himself, you've got to find a way out. He heard a disgusting
splat
outside as a skræk hit the side of the tower and fell, gibbering and squeaking.

Panicked, he jumped to his feet, kicking the door in frustration. Sweat ran down his face as he kicked again. "Come on, come on!" he yelled. "Open up!"

"It's rusted shut!" yelled Rose, whacking her boot heel against it.

Max kept kicking. Then, with a groan, the hinged square of metal shifted. Determined, he fell to his knees and pushed, flakes of rusted iron flying up into his face.

He could hear skræks slamming into the walls and a commotion outside the tower.

"Max, the skræks and wolves are fighting!" huffed Rose, pushing the trap door with her feet.

Was that possible? he wondered. Were these creatures programmed to destroy whatever crossed their paths, including each other?

He gripped the iron ring and, exerting what was left of his strength, pulled. The trapdoor flew open, and Max stared, incredulous, down a crumbling flight of steps. Weary relief washed over him.

"An escape route!" cried Rose. "That's what it is, right, Max?"

"Yeah, it must be. Go on, Rose!"

Skræks flapped at the window, clawing at the stones, clambering and clinging to the outside walls. Where was his silver owl? He had to rescue her before they tore her apart!

"You go ahead," he said to Rose. "I've got to get my owl!"

Skræks poured through the window in a whirling cloud of

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teeth and claws and ragged black wings. A sickening stench filled the tower.

"Helios!" called Rose. Max saw her reach for the dog, but she was too late. Wheezing and hissing, the skræks descended, and with a frightened yip the dog took off.

"Helios!" cried Rose, dropping the trapdoor and charging after him. "Come back!"

Max heard the door clank shut. A skræk whizzed past, startling him, and swiped his cap off his head. Terrified, he looked up at the creature, which was hissing at him through yellow teeth. The silver owl streaked past, hurtling herself at the skræk and snatching the cap from its mouth. Blind and confused, the creature gurgled and swerved away, bumping into another skræk.

Shrieks rang through the tower. Sick with fear, Max staggered off, hands over his ears, shouting for Rose. A talon shot out, slicing his forehead. Warm blood ran into his eyes. He reeled back, tripping over Helios. He heard a growl and looked down at an enormous black paw. It wasn't Helios at all. The paw belonged to a plague wolf lying on the floor, with scores of skræks attached tightly to its fur.

"Max!" howled Rose.

He looked up and ran to her. Beneath a blur of wings she stood on the closed trapdoor, arms pinwheeling, batting away skræks. Her hat was gone and her snow-soaked hair whipped around her fierce, angry face. Dodging a skræk, Helios rushed to Rose's side, barking and snapping.

Fueled by terror, Max knocked a skræk from Rose's head,

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snatched her hat from the floor, then struggled to lift the trapdoor. He thrust Rose's hat into her hands and pushed her inside.

"Helios!" she wailed. He grabbed the dog by the scruff, shoving him in behind Rose. The owl, Max's cap in her beak, soared down and flew through the open trapdoor.

Max lowered himself into the opening.

"Stop!" cried a harsh voice, and Max felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. Massive and alien, a hulking Dark Brigadier in a filthy cape and torn mask clambered into the turret.

"By order of the High Echelon," he shouted, his voice bouncing off the turret walls, "I demand that you give yourself up! Otherwise I will be forced to attack!"

Gripped by a heart-convulsing fear, Max pulled the hatch down over him, but not before he saw the Brigadier lift his gun and the plague wolf rise to its feet, shaking off skræks with a twitch of its back.

Rose waited on the steps below, clicking her flashlight on and off, looking more disheveled than ever. Helios shivered beside her.

"Shine your light up here!" Max shouted. "Quick!"

She flashed the light in his direction and he saw the thick iron bolt beside the trapdoor. That it had survived the centuries was pure luck, he knew. Overhead he heard a gunshot, then the sound of wolves attacking. Were they going after the Brigadier, or the skræks?

With all his strength he pushed, terrified that the Brigadier would burst through and arrest them. But to his surprise he