The Wildwood Arrow (12 page)

They flew west as darkness fell and the moon appeared, crossing the main road that led to Pennington before looping round towards Hobbin Forest. Fletcher plunged down into the trees. Hovering beside a large oak, he started pulling strands of foliage away from the trunk.

“Mistletoe,” he said, passing some to Laney.

They each took a bundle of the stringy plant down to the ground. Laney rubbed a scratch on her arm. “These trees grow thicker every time I come here.”

“And thornier – look!” Claudia pointed at a cluster of thorns on an oak tree branch.

“Oaks aren’t supposed to have thorns on them,” said Laney. “Hey, Fletcher?”

But Fletcher had already moved on and they had to hurry to catch up with him. He stopped at last and pointed through the deepening twilight. “Here’s the silver birch avenue, where the Avalon project opens. Time to test out the mistletoe – our passport inside!” His eyes gleamed. Laney thought they flashed green for a second, but when she looked again they were grey with gold rings around the pupils, same as usual.

“Are you sure you have enough power?” she said, thinking how stiff and strange the Thorns had appeared after Saturn Rising.

“Yeah, I reckon so.” Fletcher walked down the
silver birch avenue.

“Laney!” Claudia clutched her arm. “Look behind you.”

Hairy creatures scuffled through the gloomy clearing. “Hobgobbits,” said Laney. “Except they’re—”

“Bigger, hairier and meaner,” finished Claudia.

The creatures turned at the sound of her voice, baring rows of sharp white teeth that glinted through the darkness. Laney and Claudia sprinted down the birch avenue after Fletcher.

“Hobgobbits – coming!” Laney gasped, nearly tripping over her mistletoe.

“They won’t bother us here.” Fletcher didn’t even turn to look at the creatures. His gaze was fixed on the invisible wall ahead. “Are you ready?” He wound the strands of mistletoe around his arms and began walking with his palms facing forwards. His face froze in a look of concentration and a cloudy circle opened in the air. “You go through,” he said. “I’ll hold it open.”

Laney felt around for the edge of the invisible wall, managing to find it and climb through. Claudia leapt through after her. Fletcher followed them, keeping his hand carefully on the gap and as he let his arm fall the cloudy hole disappeared behind them. The Avalon project was just as beautiful at night as it had been in the daytime. The landscape
was lit up in silver by the full moon and the pale glow from groups of flying sprites.

“Avalon.” Fletcher’s face shone. “Home to the Wildwood Arrow.”

“Don’t go all poetic on us,” said Claudia.

Laney gazed around. Privately she thought a bit of poetry fitted the place perfectly. You couldn’t even call it countryside. It was nature, pure and simple. Nature as it would have been without people. Meadows of flowers covered gentle curving hills. In the centre rose a towering rocky outcrop crowned with more silver birches. “Does Stingwood want all the Thorns to come and live here?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Fletcher’s face was calm and still. “But I know I’d live here.”

“It’s nice,” said Claudia, “but it just seems wrong without any animals.”

Laney knew what she meant.

Fletcher spread his wings and glided upwards.

“Where are you going?” said Laney.

“To Spine Tree Ridge,” he called back, flying towards the rocky outcrop.

The girls soared upwards too and Claudia swooped close, saying into Laney’s ear, “We should watch out for Stingwood. I bet he’s here somewhere.”

As they flew closer to Spine Tree Ridge, Laney could feel the air buzzing with power. “The arrow has to be here, giving out all this energy,” she told
Claudia. “And Stingwood must know that.”

Claudia looked doubtful. “If he knew he’d found the Myrical, wouldn’t he have told the other Thorns?”

Fletcher stopped short in the air and Laney had to throw herself sideways to avoid hitting him. He plunged into the trees growing on the rocky outcrop, flying in and out of them as if he was following a trail.

“I’ve seen dogs do that,” Claudia grinned. “Not while flying, obviously.”

“It’s here!” Fletcher put his hand on the trunk of a silver birch.

“Really? You mean the arrow’s
inside
the tree?” Laney flew down and touched the smooth white bark. “I can’t see anything different about it.”

“It’s well hidden,” said Fletcher. “It looks like there was a concealment spell but it’s worn away over time. Stingwood must have put magic there to stop other people finding the Myrical.”

“Go on then! Grab it.” Claudia looked round nervously. “And then we can get out of here.”

Fletcher put his palm on the tree and frowned. “I don’t know if I can … no, wait!” He pulled with his thumb and forefinger, drawing a beautiful arrow with a shining silver tip out of the tree.

“Wow! It’s almost like it was meant to be you that got it out,” said Laney. “Like in a legend or
something – like King Arthur! You know, with the sword in the stone.”

“It’s not really like King Arthur, because he was a Kestrel faerie,” said Claudia.

Laney rolled her eyes. “Yeah, very funny!”

Claudia looked offended. “He was! King Arthur was a Kestrel. Kestrels always fancy themselves as leaders.”

Fletcher admired the shape of the arrow. “My dad said in the olden days we used to hunt with arrows like these and that’s why they used one to hold the essence of our tribe.”

“Can I?” Laney reached for the arrow.

Fletcher frowned. “You can’t hold it.”

“It’s OK. I’ll only touch it for a second.” Her fingertips brushed along the smooth wood, stopping at the feathers on the fletching. The moonlight dimmed. The trunk of the silver birch turned black and its branches twisted into claws. Laney whipped her hand away and the tree went back to normal. “What was that?” Her heart pounded.

“What was what?” said Fletcher.

“I don’t know.” Laney stared at the arrow. “It was bad. We should go.”

“Fine by me.” Claudia fidgeted. “This place is seriously getting on my nerves.”

Leaves rustled. A stunted tree close by began to shudder and a deep groan echoed round the ridge.

Laney flew over to the tree. It looked exactly like a twisted tree-man. “Stingwood?” she asked. The greenish-brown trunk held up several misshapen branches. A toothless mouth shape gaped below but there were only creases where the eyes should have been.

Forgetting her fear, Laney pressed one hand to the trunk. “Stingwood, is that you? Can you hear me?”

The tree-man’s branches creaked but no more human features appeared.

“He looks terrible!” Claudia drew back. “Urgh! I can’t bear to get any closer.”

Laney turned to Fletcher. “I think he’s stuck like that. Can’t we use the Arrow to free him? There must be something we can do.”

Fletcher studied the Arrow, not meeting her eyes. “It’s his own fault. He must have been trying to keep the Arrow to himself.”

The tree moaned and its bark-mouth stretched hideously.

“So this is a spell that backfired on him then?” said Laney.

“Well, he can’t have meant to end up looking like that. Seriously!” Claudia shuddered.

“Fletcher! At least try and help him!” cried Laney. “I can’t believe you won’t do anything for him. Why are you being like this? It’s not like you.”

“You’ve never even liked him,” said Fletcher.

“I know, but…” Laney struggled to explain. It wasn’t just that Stingwood was stuck in this hideous tree form. It was that Fletcher didn’t seem to care.

Fletcher’s eyes flickered, but his hand tightened on the Arrow. “I can’t do anything for him anyway. It’s too late.” And he flew off.

“Maybe when we’ve locked the Arrow away through the Mencladden Stone he’ll go back to normal,” said Claudia.

Laney let go of the Stingwood tree. Maybe Claudia was right. Maybe locking the Wildwood Arrow away would allow Stingwood to switch back. They had to go straight to Mencladden ill and finish this nightmare at sunrise.

Taking to the air, she and Claudia flew after Fletcher. Plants rippled as he passed overhead, drawn to the power of the Arrow. Laney thought that if they could have pulled up their roots and followed, they would.

They found the invisible wall by looking for the discarded mistletoe. Fletcher made the gap in the wall again and climbed through first, not waiting for the others. Laney followed him.

“Hey! Watch it!” Claudia leapt through the fast-closing hole just before it shut completely.

Beyond the wall, darkness lay thickly over the
forest. The moon was hidden behind a cloud and no sprites flew nearby to provide a silvery glow. Laney stumbled down the avenue of silver birches. “Where are you, Fletcher?”

“Slow down a bit, Thorn Boy,” grumbled Claudia.

“I’m just here.” Fletcher had stopped next to the last birch tree.

A branch scraped against Laney’s face. She backed away, straight into another tree. “Ow! Does it seem like the trees are different? I’m sure they’re closer together than they were before.”

“They’re moving.” Claudia dropped her voice. “Listen, you can hear them.”

A growing creaking and groaning noise came from all around them. Fletcher stood statue-like, holding the arrow. Then without a word he spread his grey wings and soared into the sky.

“Fletcher!” yelled Laney, taking off after him. “You’re going the wrong way. The Mencladden Stone is north across the river.”

But Fletcher swooped away through the night sky as if he hadn’t heard them. The girls flew after him, skimming the treetops.

“He’s heading for Skellmore,” shouted Claudia.

“Watch out!” Laney pulled Claudia aside as a long tree branch reached up, claw-like, to grab her ankle.

“Freakin’ hell!” Claudia climbed higher into the
sky, out of reach of the trees. “What’s going on?”

Laney stared down. “I thought being near the Arrow would make the plants and trees act nicer.”

A gang of hobgobbits marched between the trees, growling to each other. One caught sight of the girls and spit out a torrent of snarls. The others joined in. Behind them snake-like roots broke out of the earth and slithered across the ground.

“This is dark magic,” gasped Claudia. “The forest has gone mad.”

Laney stared at the scene below. “It hasn’t just gone mad – it’s gone everywhere. See – that’s where the wood usually stops, at the footpath. Now the trees are growing way past that point. The path’s completely overgrown.” She pointed to where the path from the lake used to wind along the edge of the wood.

“Unbelievable!” said Claudia. “This must be because of the Arrow.”

Laney flew on towards the orange lights of Skellmore and a deep creaking noise split through the darkness. Trees were pressing right up to the fence behind the minimart’s back yard.

“We have to make it stop!” snapped Claudia. “If we get the Arrow back and put it through the Mencladden Stone, then everything will go back to normal, right?”

“I hope so,” Laney said.

They flew down into the dark minimart yard and changed to human form.

“I bet Fletcher took the Arrow back to his house,” said Claudia. “I reckon he wants to show off to all the other Thorns.” She dodged round a newly grown prickly hedge.

“Maybe he wants to prove to his dad that he was right,” said Laney. “He was really cross when his parents didn’t believe that he’d found the Arrow.”

The girls ran down the lamplit High Street towards Gnarlwood Lane. Laney caught sight of figures in the park and stopped to peer through the gloom. There were no street lights in the park and it was hard to see. “Wait, Claudia, he’s over here!”

“What! Why’s he gone to the park?” Claudia said huffily. “He needs to stop mucking around. Seriously!”

Laney had to push thick branches aside to look through the park’s metal railings. She could see the towering black shape of the great oak and a small group of figures standing near it. Fletcher was walking stiffly over to them holding the Arrow in both hands. Laney waited for the familiar rush of power from the faerie ring to spread up the oak tree and turn it golden, so that she could see what was going on. But it didn’t happen.

Instead, a flash of red lightning arced through the air, hitting the oak’s trunk. In that millisecond
she saw a tall figure with a hooded black cloak.

Then darkness fell again.

Laney’s hands tightened round the railings. “He’s here!” she whispered. “I saw the Shadow.”

Panic flooded through Laney, making her mind feel slow. She knew she had to do something to get them out of this.

Claudia hissed into her ear. “We have to reach Fletcher before the Shadow does. Laney, are you listening to me? The Shadow could get the Arrow.”

Hearing Claudia’s voice cut through Laney’s panic. “We grab Fletcher and fly him out of here,” she said, and she started running, past the railings, the swings and across the football pitch.

Strange stirrings and creakings came from all directions. The full moon came out from behind a cloud, shedding pale, eerie light over the trees and playground. Fletcher was still plodding woodenly towards the oak tree. Several other figures were spread out nearby, standing motionless. Where was the Shadow? For a second she hoped he’d flown away. Then, right next to the oak tree, she saw a place where the darkness was thicker. There was movement inside it, twisting and churning, and she had the feeling she was being watched.

“Laney Rivers.” The cold voice came out of the moving darkness. “I have things to show you. Look closer.” Writhing shapes formed in the blackness, weaving in and out of each other, forming a sickening pattern that poured into her mind.

She took a step closer and Claudia hissed, “Don’t look! It’s a dark spell.”

With a great effort Laney pulled her gaze away. “Forget it. I’m not falling for your Shadow tricks.” She went straight to Fletcher’s side. “Fletcher, come back with me! You’re not safe here.” She was aware of the Shadow listening.

Fletcher stopped his slow shuffle, although he still stared straight ahead. A small bubble of hope rose in Laney and she put her hand on his shoulder, trying hard not to look at the patch of churning darkness. “Fletcher, we have to take the Arrow … away.” She knew she couldn’t mention the Mencladden Stone. “You did the hard bit by finding it. This last part is easy.”

Claudia stood at his other side. “Come on, Thorn Boy. We’re all fast flyers,” she said. “If we make a bolt for it, we can get out of here.”

Inside the moving darkness, the Shadow laughed softly.

Fletcher’s gold-ringed eyes looked dull, as if a light had disappeared from inside them. He stared ahead, his face unmoving. Laney tightened her grip on his shoulder. “Fletcher?”

His mouth opened. “You … must …” He struggled for the next word.

“The Shadow will take the Arrow!” Claudia’s voice rose. “Get it together – we have to go
right now
!”

“You … must … leave Skellmore.” Fletcher
turned to look at each of them in turn and Laney felt as if his gaze went right through her. “You are … not Thorns,” he said woodenly. “This place belongs to us.” He took another step towards the patch of darkness where the Shadow waited.

“Stop!” Laney sprang in front of him so that he couldn’t walk forwards. “It’s me, Laney – don’t you remember? Think about all the things we’re doing – all the things we’ve done.” She searched his face. It was as if a hard shell had formed around the old Fletcher. There had to be a way to break through it. “You’re the one that’s kept us going all summer. You kept us together – like a team.”

The Shadow laughed again and the sound made Laney shudder. “How sweet. Poor Fletcher – always the dependable one.”

Fletcher looked down at Laney stiffly. “You are not a Thorn. You must leave.”

“Fletcher, please! It’s me!” Laney tried to shake him but it was like trying to shake a wall. Then she winced as he pushed her roughly out of his way.

Claudia tried to snatch the Wildwood Arrow but he put up his arm to block her and then resumed his slow shuffling walk towards the Shadow. The motionless figures spread out around the park began walking too.

“They’re all Thorns.” Claudia peered at their expressionless faces. “He’s put a spell on them.”

The darkness hissed and the Shadow emerged. His hood hung down, completely concealing his face, while black leather gloves hid his hands. As the folds of his black cloak rippled around him, a stench of decay drifted over to the girls.

“What are you doing to the Thorns?” said Laney. “Let them go!”

“There’s no way back for them now.” The Shadow’s hood moved as he spoke and for a second Laney wondered if she knew his voice. “I wove the perfect core for this spell weeks ago when I found Stingwood with the Arrow. He was trying to use its power to create his little nature project in the forest. He had discovered the Myrical for me and his useless project made the rest easy.” With his gloved hand he took hold of one of the oak tree branches and blackness spread along the wood and into the leaves.

Laney’s mind whirled. The Shadow had always made plants wither and turn brown. This time the branch was still alive but as black as midnight. “So you knew about the Avalon project,” she began. “You knew what Stingwood was doing all along.”

“Of course I knew, stupid girl!” the Shadow snarled. “I could have taken the Arrow weeks ago but his project gave me the perfect cover. I added Shadow magic to his pathetic Thorn enchantments and as the power of the Arrow multiplied through
the forest, my dark spell spread too.” He held up one hand, and Fletcher and all the other Thorns stopped walking. “Root by root and branch by branch; my dark magic has flooded through plants and trees and into the Thorn faeries themselves. Now they are all channels for my power.”

“The roots that pinned Craig down in the forest – that was your spell,” said Claudia. “And the way the forest’s been changing – it was all you!”

The Shadow’s hood moved as if he was smiling underneath it. “Don’t forget that none of this would have been possible without the Thorns – those tree-hugging, nature-loving fools. And now nature can have its own revenge!” Spreading his gigantic black wings, the Shadow touched the great oak tree and it groaned as if it was in pain. Then a cascade of scraping and creaking began from the surrounding streets.

“Laney,” whispered Claudia. “I think the trees are moving again.”

The Shadow turned to Fletcher. “Come here, boy.”

Fletcher moved forwards woodenly and handed the long arrow with its beautiful shining tip to the Shadow.

“Thank you,” said the Shadow silkily. “Now turn around.” Fletcher twisted to face Laney and the Shadow raised the Arrow high, spinning it round in the air.

“No!” cried Laney. “Don’t hurt him.”

The spinning arrow made a grey, smoky vortex that circled down over Fletcher’s head. The faerie ring close by sang out a warning, but the vortex spun on, enfolding Fletcher’s body in its dark haze. When the whirling air cleared, Fletcher stood before them completely altered. Branches grew where his arms had been. Rough bark covered his face and body, and his legs were welded together into one solid trunk. Yet Laney could tell he was still there underneath.

The Shadow laughed. “He makes a good tree.” His voice dropped menacingly. “And if you try to release him from my spell he will die. They’ll all die. Their life force is connected to the Arrow and the Arrow is mine.”

“I don’t believe you!” Laney’s eyes pricked with tears and she reached out to Fletcher. “Listen to me, Fletcher. Just hold on and we’ll find a way to free you.”

“Take them to their houses and lock them in,” commanded the Shadow. “Make sure they don’t escape.”

The other Thorns advanced silently on the girls, their faces blank. Grey-haired Mr Willowby was there, and Mr and Mrs Thornbeam, who walked right past Fletcher without a second look. Laney tried to fly but Mr Willowby got hold of her and
pulled her arms behind her back. Claudia got halfway into the air before Mrs Thornbeam grabbed her ankles and pulled her down again.

“You’re a coward!” Laney shouted at the Shadow.

He clenched one fist and red lightning sparked in his hand. “I will ignore that for now,” he said, “because I know someone who has a plan for you, Laney Rivers, and he has Many Eyes.”

Laney shivered, not knowing what he meant.

A handful of forlorn crows flew over their heads. “Crows!” Claudia yelled. “Bring the Greytails!” But the crows sped away from Skellmore.

Laney’s middle finger prickled and heat rushed through her hands. She used the heat, pushing Mr Willowby hard and making him fall over.

“Do you know what happens when a tree gets struck by lightning, Laney Rivers?” The Shadow towered over Fletcher, rolling a ball of red lightning in one hand. “Would you like to see?”

Behind the rough bark, Laney could see Fletcher’s face but it looked as though his eyes were closed. She thought of how steady and calm he’d been all summer and her arms dropped to her sides. She couldn’t bear losing him.

The red lightning crackled in the Shadow’s hand. “It’s good that you’ve seen sense. Take them back to their houses for now.”

Laney didn’t resist when Mr Willowby grabbed
her arms again and pulled her away. At the park gate she twisted round and saw the Shadow slip the Wildwood Arrow under his cloak before sinking back into the darkness. Fletcher stood alone, his branches frozen into position.

The streetlamp next to the minimart flickered and Laney’s stomach filled with cold dread. This wasn’t the High Street she knew. Brambles clambered over the walls and rooftops of the shops and houses. A hedge bursting with sharp spines blocked the road at both ends and it was climbing higher with every moment. The ground trembled beneath their feet and wiry black roots burst through the concrete and snaked across the pavement.

“Where are the humans?” Claudia dodged one root with a shudder. “Why aren’t they out here screaming about all of this?”

Laney peered into the dark minimart window and saw Mrs Mottle lying on the floor. She noticed the woman’s arm twitching even though her eyes stayed closed. “Claudia, look at Craig’s mum. She looks as if she’s sleeping.” Suddenly Laney caught a strong scent and recognised it straight away. “I can smell the valerian again, just like at Gwen’s house.” She peered at Mrs Mottle’s sleeping form. “Maybe humans are more easily affected by it than faeries.”

The scent grew stronger and Laney tried not to breathe in too deeply. Mr Willowby gave her a
push, making her lurch forwards. She caught sight of people slumped in the chairs of the hairdresser’s salon and others lying on the floor with scissors and combs in their hands. “They’re asleep in the hairdressers too. They must have been like this for hours. It must have happened while we were at Saturn Rising.”

Claudia stared at the wall of the pet shop in horror. “Oh no! I can’t believe they did that.” The two gigantic cat’s eyes were held shut by rope-like stems covered in sharp thorns. The wall let out a long wail as the stems closed tighter. “You can’t do this!” Claudia struggled against her captors. “You can’t enslave the Greytails!”

“Claudia!” hissed Laney. “Don’t lose it, OK? We’ll get out of this.”

The Thorns dragged Laney and Claudia silently up Beacon Way. Halfway up, Claudia broke free and raced into The Cattery. Mrs Thornbeam tried to recapture her but the Cattery houses spat and snarled when she came too close. A gang of cats formed a barricade across the road, hissing at the Thorns. Dizzy sprang on to Claudia’s shoulder, meowing shrilly, her black fur on end.

“Claudia! Where’ve you been?” Tom flew down the road. “Get in here quickly! You’ve no idea what’s going on.”

“What? You mean about the Thorns turning
evil?” Claudia stamped on a bramble that had slid past the line of cats.

“Well – yeah!” Tom scowled. “So you do know then.”

Laney lunged sideways to get away from the Thorns and cross the line into The Cattery, but Mr Willowby pulled her back with surprising strength. “I can’t get away,” she yelled to Claudia.

“I’ll come and find you, OK?” Claudia shouted. “They won’t be able to stop me.”

The Thorns pushed Laney up to Oldwing Rise, past several people who were sleeping on the path or the road. Laney swallowed. They must have fallen asleep exactly where they stood when they first breathed in the valerian. Craig was snoring gently on the path with vines crawling across him. Laney’s unease grew as she passed each sleeper. There was no one to protect them. She had to find a way to break the Shadow’s power over the Thorns, especially Fletcher, but there was no point going back for him until the other Thorns were out of the way.

As she was shoved along Oldwing Rise in the gloom, she saw that her own house had been imprisoned in brambles too. Her dad’s face was peering out through a small gap in the leaves and vines that covered the upstairs window. The way in was barred by thick wooden stems that had wound
sinuously across the wall and over the front door.

At the end of the lane, another spiky thicket blocked the footpath out of the village.

“Laney!” her dad called faintly, and the door juddered as he tried to force it open.

Blank-faced, Mr Willowby dragged Laney to her front door. He touched the vines and they parted instantly. The front door burst open and Mr Rivers stood there brandishing a large pipe wrench. “Quick – get in!” he said. “Stay back, Willowby. I don’t want to have to use this on a man of your age.”

Laney stumbled inside and Mr Rivers slammed the door shut behind her. With a soft scraping noise the vines grew back, covering the square of glass at the top of the door in seconds and cutting out the orange light from the street lamp.