Web of Fire Bind-up (29 page)

At that moment, through the screen, they saw the door of the room open and a man walk in. Hekken immediately became edgy. ‘Quickly, fly under the bed,' he hissed. ‘Fly somewhere dark until he's gone.'

Skipper hesitated.

‘Do it now!' Hekken screamed in her ear and in that moment Skipper knew what she must do. Her heart felt curiously light as she turned the mosquito around and pulled the throttle back as far as it would go. Hekken would not win and that was enough. It would have to be enough.

‘What are you doing?' shrieked Hekken as the mosquito continued its climb towards the man's face. Skipper could see into the man's eyes now. They were sad eyes, full of sorrow, but there was kindness in there too. That was good.

The man looked at them and lifted his hands.

Hekken screamed.

Then there was only blackness and a forgetting.

Sam's father walked across to the sink and washed the remains of the mosquito from his hands. That was the trouble with having the windows open on these hot summer nights, the bugs always found a way in. But it was nothing any more; just little fragments of inert material washed away with the rest of the day's dirt and dust.

He dried his hands on a faded green towel and as he did so a small sound behind him made him stop and listen. It
seemed to be coming from the direction of the bed: a tiny sound, like a whimper or a cry.

Turning quickly around, he saw to his shock and amazement that his son was beginning to move. He watched in silent disbelief as Sam's arms rose softly from the bed and then, unable to contain himself any longer, he ran through the double doors and out into the long, echoing corridor.

‘Sally,' he shouted, ‘come quickly!'

Back in the silence of the room Sam's arms continued to rise, slowly stretching upwards and outwards as though reaching in vain for something precious that had been lost.

As the weeks went by, Sam grew stronger. At first he was able to take only a few faltering steps, but every day that passed saw him walk a little further until, finally, he was allowed to go home.

Summer was almost over; already the green leaves on the trees were beginning to fade and the nights were drawing in. A cool wind blew in from the east, carrying drifts of dandelion seeds across the fields and hedgerows to the places where they would lie still and silent through the winter, waiting for the first whispers of spring to awaken them.

Sally Palmer lay in bed, listening to the wind in the eaves.

‘Do you think he's all right?' she asked as Jack turned off the light. ‘He seems so sad sometimes.'

‘It's bound to take time, love,' said Jack. ‘He's been through such a lot these past few weeks.'

‘I know,' said Sally. ‘I just want him to be happy, that's
all. Maybe when he starts school again he'll make some new friends.'

‘Course he will,' said Jack. He reached across and patted the mound of her belly under the duvet. ‘And when this little one arrives, he'll be able to play the big brother.'

‘Yeah,' said Sally. ‘We'll make sure he's involved, eh?'

‘Definitely.' They were silent for a while, and then Jack said: ‘You know, I thought he was lost for ever. I thought we'd never get him back.'

Sally stroked his cheek in the darkness. ‘I know, love. But he found his way home, didn't he? He found his way home.'

That night she had the dream again.

She was running barefoot through the forest. Behind her, shouts and screams rose from the burning houses and she heard the harsh voices of soldiers calling to one another across the marshes. Heavy boots crashed through the undergrowth and she saw dark shapes moving through the trees. The fear caught in her throat and she ran faster, faster, hearing the sound of her own breathless sobs as the footsteps came closer.

Reaching the edge of the forest, she jumped across a ditch and stumbled exhausted into a field. In the distance, flames danced in the darkness above the village.

She heard the sound of voices, floating on the night air towards her. Raising her head, she saw the soldiers
walk calmly across the field towards a young woman who had fallen to her knees.

Sally took a deep breath and felt the wet grass beneath her, and the cool breeze, and the lifeblood dancing around her veins.

A gunshot.

Voices fading to nothing.

When at last she opened her eyes again, she saw that the young woman was standing in front of her. A gentle breeze ruffled her blonde hair and Sally saw that she was beautiful. The woman reached out her hand and touched Sally's cheek.

‘I knew that you would come back,' she said softly. Sally took the woman's hand in hers and felt how cold it was.

‘I promise that I will take care of her,' said Sally. ‘I will love her as you have done.'

The woman squeezed Sally's hand for a moment before letting it go.

‘Thank you,' she said.

Then she turned and walked away into the darkness.

From all around there came the beating of wings and Sally felt herself swept high above the fields and trees, up into the cool sweet air beyond. She saw the little mound of earth all covered in daisies and her heart
ached, but then the world fell away beneath her and as she flew up to the stars she saw how small everything really was, and all the pain and fear in her heart subsided.

She was in a clearing in a forest. Above her the night sky was littered with stars.

Walking slowly towards the base of a tall tree, she knelt softly on a bed of pine needles and moved the branches aside. She smiled and reached into the basket.

Awake in the quiet darkness, Sally squeezed her husband's hand. ‘Jack,' she whispered, ‘I think the baby's coming.'

It was early afternoon when Sam walked with his father through the double doors and into the ward where his mother lay propped up on her pillows, holding a small white bundle in her arms.

‘Hello, love,' she said. ‘Come and say hello to your baby sister.'

Sam smiled. ‘Can I hold her?'

‘Of course, love. She belongs to you too, you know.'

Sam took the tiny bundle and cradled her in his arms, feeling an inexplicable wave of happiness wash over him.

He pushed back the little crocheted blanket and looked down at his new baby sister. She was so warm and tiny and alive, he thought.

She was beautiful.

For a moment she lay quite still, lost in milk-white dreams. Then, as Sam moved slightly, she stirred and the weak afternoon sunlight warmed her face. With a yawn, she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

She had quite the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

My grateful thanks to:

Norman and Betty Voake, Jon Voake and Kim ‘Horsefly' Green for suggestions and help with early drafts; everyone at Faber and Faber, but especially Julia Wells for superb editing; Tim and Daisy Voake for laughs and inspiration; Phil Burner, Neil Sinclair, Rob Hawkins, Dave Hayward, Chris McFarlane, Dave Cahill, Marc Lebeau and all at Kilmersdon for friendship and enthusiasm; Sam North for film fun; Clare Conville for mugs of bubbly; Patrick Walsh for fridge expertise and Tory Voake for everything.

Special thanks to Ed Jaspers for advice, faith and alchemy…

Steve Voake

STEVE VOAKE is the former headmaster of a boys' school in Somerset, England, and has been featured in
People
magazine for his fundraising efforts.
The Dreamwalker's Child
is his first book for young readers.

THE WEB OF FIRE

The Dreamwalker's Child

STEVE VOAKE

For my mother and father

Vahlzi:
A city situated west of the Great Plains of Aurobon, occupied by Vermian forces. Resistance led by General Firebrand.

Vermia:
A city situated east of the Great Plains of Aurobon, ruled by the Emperor Odoursin.

THE WEB OF FIRE