Wild Magic (2 page)

Where
was
Marianna? Jakob tried to look over the heads of the dancers. There was some kind of commotion up ahead. The procession had reached the East Gate and still seemed to be moving forward. But the air was shrill with screams. Wild, frantic, terrified screams, as if the town were tumbling into hell and taking the townsfolk with it.

Then Jakob saw what was causing the panic. It was a bubble. A huge silvery sphere, lying right in the middle of the road, blocking the open gateway. The Piper was leading the children into it. But adults couldn't enter. Women were throwing themselves against it only to bounce right off again. Men were slashing at it with knives and meat hooks, but it was making no difference. The bubble wouldn't burst or slit. It seemed as tough as cowhide.

“There's another one blocking the West Gate!” shouted a man in the crowd. “I've just seen it. We're trapped like rats!”

Hearing this, the crowd went crazy. Parents hauled their children out of the line and tried to drag them away. But the children couldn't be held. Their hands and clothes seemed slippery. No one could get a good grip. The children wriggled free and returned to the dance.

Jakob reached the gate. The bubble billowed before him: strange, bright, silver-white. Shimmering like a pearl. He reached out and touched it. It felt incredibly soft, like a cobweb. He smiled and stepped inside. Instantly the noise of the crowd was gone. Jakob felt he had entered another world. A magical land of silence and iridescent light. Then he emerged on the far side and heard the crowd again. A spiky sound, ragged and jagged like broken glass.

But that was behind him. Before him lay the road to Paradise and that was all that mattered. Though Jakob had to admit he was a little disappointed. He thought the bubble would lead to a magnificent golden road—not the dusty, potholed track that ran east of Hamelin Town. He closed his eyes to remind himself where he was going. Oh yes! Paradise was still there and it looked better than ever. Fields full of buttercups. A waterfall with a deep pool beneath. A forest with emerald trees and soft-treading deer.

Jakob grinned and opened his eyes. He wasn't sorry to be leaving Hamelin. Marianna was somewhere up ahead, so he had no one there but his father—and he wasn't worth staying for.

He pushed on, suddenly regretting the minute he had spent daydreaming. When he was at the gate, he had been surrounded by lots of children, but now he was a straggler. And where
was
Marianna? Why wasn't she looking after him, like she usually did?

She must be with her friends
, he thought.
She's so excited,
she's forgotten all about me. Never mind! I'll soon catch up
with her.

But would he? The Piper was setting such a quick pace only the strongest children could stay with him. The others were strung out in a ragtag line with the youngest and weakest at the end. Jakob was there, sandwiched between a tired five-year-old and a girl who had risen from a sickbed. But after half an hour, even they were nosing ahead.

“I'll keep up,” he told himself. “I will.” He gritted his teeth and struggled on. Thought of the new body the Piper was promising him. He couldn't be left behind. He
couldn't
. Not this time. He had far too much to lose.

CHAPTER
THREE

Marianna paused and wiped the sweat from her brow.
Whew!
This was hard work! Walking uphill on a hot day, with nothing to drink and no time allowed for resting. She turned to see how far they had come. Quite a way! Out of town and along the eastern road . . . Now they were halfway up Hamelin Hill. In the distance, she could see the road they had taken. There was no one on it. Was the bubble still working? Good! She didn't want anyone spoiling a day like this.

She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked for Jakob. There he was! Right at the end of the line. A little bit behind the others, but not too far. She wondered whether she should go back to help him. That was her job. Her father never helped him, useless oaf that he was. No, it was always Marianna who made sure Jakob had a coat on his back and food in his belly. He relied on her for everything and she knew he would be looking for her now. Wondering where she was.

But what could she do if she went back for him? She couldn't make him walk any faster. And did she really want to leave the Piper? No! She wanted to be
nearer
to him. She hadn't seen him close-up and he looked
so
handsome. Oh, Jakob would manage! He was a strong little soldier. He wouldn't be left behind.

And the climb wasn't
too
difficult. The hill wasn't overly steep, there was a path, and the Piper seemed to know where he was going. In fact, he seemed to be there.

He was standing beside a stunted hawthorn. Above him, the hill rose sharply into a solid wall of stone. He was still playing his pipe.

But Marianna noticed the tune had changed. It wasn't a dance melody now. It was something softer, sweeter. Hearing it, she dreamed of peaches and pears and jugs of cream. They seemed so real, she could almost taste them in her mouth: a perfect taste of summer.

And something magical was happening. She could see a brilliant blue light coming from inside Hamelin Hill. It was cutting through the stone like a knife through cheese, making a door. And as she watched, the door swung open and the Piper walked through.

The children started to follow, Marianna among them. But when she reached the door she wavered. It looked dark and cold inside the hill. Could that really be Paradise? Where was the sunshine, the meadow, the ponies?

And where was Jakob? She turned to look for him, but a scruffy lad knocked into her.

“Move!” said the lad angrily. “You're blocking the way!” He forcibly turned her around and pushed her through the doorway, whether she wanted to go or not. The remaining children crowded in behind her. Marianna couldn't move. She was aware of the door closing behind her.

Jakob! Where was Jakob?

Frantic now, she forced her way back through the enchanted children. The door had nearly closed. Just a sliver of light remained: a slice of summer sunshine. But she could see Jakob outside. He was desperately struggling to reach her. His legs were buckling under him. His body was falling one way, his crutch the other. And with a look of utter despair on his face, he smashed into the ground and lay there, crumpled as a dishcloth.

“Jakob!” cried Marianna. “JAKOB!” But he couldn't hear her.

The door had closed.

CHAPTER
FOUR

Black. Thick, inky black. Marianna held her hand up in front of her face but she couldn't see it. And it was cold. So cold. When the door closed, summer had been left outside. In here it was winter. Marianna felt a cold breeze brushing across her face. She could hear dripping water. The music had gone and so had any happy feeling. She tried to move forward but other children were blocking her way. They were starting to panic. Huddling together like sheep when the wolf circles.

Then she heard a sound—
sssssp
—like a sausage sizzling in a pan. Suddenly the space was filled with light. A warm, golden glow that illuminated the walls and ceiling of the tunnel they were in. Looking over the heads of the smaller children, Marianna could see the Piper. He was holding his pipe in the air. It was glowing like a torch.

The Piper turned to the children and smiled— a strange, fleeting smile that didn't quite warm his eyes.

“Come,” he said.

Marianna didn't want to go anywhere. She wanted to get out, back to Jakob. But the Piper put his still-glowing pipe to his lips and instantly Jakob was forgotten, swept away in a flurry of notes that danced in the air like mayflies. And when the Piper started walking, Marianna followed without question. They all did. The Piper had smiled. There was nothing to worry about. This was an adventure! A magical journey with the most wonderful man in the world.

They walked on. The tunnel was narrow and, with so many children jostling for space, elbows were scraped against the jagged walls. There were drips from the ceiling and puddles on the path. Marianna could feel the wetness creeping up her skirt. Her petticoat was starting to slap against her legs.

“
Yuck!
” said Karl, the mayor's son. “I'm soaking wet.”

He had slipped on a particularly wet patch and now his backside was soaked. But no one seemed to care.

“I'm soaking wet,” he said, louder this time.

“We're all wet,” said a boy beside him. “Stop making a fuss. Enjoy yourself.”

Karl scowled and walked on.

Marianna felt a small hand slipping into her own. Looking down, she saw Greta, the baker's daughter. She was no more than six years old, with a face as pretty as a buttercup in June.

“Are you on your own?” Marianna asked her. “Isn't your brother with you?”

Greta shrugged. “Don't know,” she said. “We were in the shop. The music came and Fred ran off. I saw him dancing in the market square. I was dancing too. It was the best fun, wasn't it, Mari?”

“Oh yes!” said Marianna with a smile. “So you think Fredrik is here somewhere?”

Greta nodded and hugged her rag doll close.

“We'll find him eventually,” said Marianna, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Don't you worry about that. Look at these.” She pointed at the tunnel ceiling.

“Icicles!” said Greta.

Marianna smiled. “That's what they look like, but they're called stalactites. You see that water, dripping from the roof ? That's been dripping for hundreds of thousands of years,
drip—drip—drip
in exactly the same place. Every drip leaves a tiny bit of stuff behind. That's how they grow.”

Greta paused and gazed at the delicate formations. “They're like dragon's teeth,” she said at last. “Are they cold?”

“Everything is cold down here,” laughed Marianna. “Come on!”

Marianna hurried on, pulling Greta behind her. She didn't want to lose sight of the Piper. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was tall and slender. Graceful as a cat. He had beautiful hands with long, slim fingers and the darkest, most
heavenly
hair. It reached to his waist, straight and sleek as a horse's mane. And now, in the glow of the magic pipe, Marianna could see it was flecked with gold.

Suddenly the Piper disappeared from view. The tunnel had turned sharply to the left. Marianna heard a babble of voices. Something was happening up ahead. She gripped Greta's hand and pushed on.

“Oh!”

Marianna stopped so suddenly, the boy behind walked straight into her. But neither of them complained. The view before them was astonishing. The tunnel had opened out into something infinitely bigger. Now the ceiling was higher than a Hamelin town house. The path was three times wider. A dark stream flowed alongside. The blackness was gone. This new tunnel had its own wild, fairy glow.

“Fred!” cried Greta. Suddenly she was off, running to her brother.

Marianna walked on, taking advantage of the space and the brightness to see exactly who was in the crowd. She couldn't be sure, but it looked like every child in town. Anyone she could think of seemed to be there—except Jakob. Oh, why hadn't she spoken up? The Piper hadn't noticed Jakob lagging behind. He would have waited if he had known, wouldn't he?

Marianna felt a stab of guilt, sharp as a bee sting. She turned her attention back to the others and tried to ignore it.

Was she the oldest in the group? No. She could see big strong lads of thirteen or fourteen. Who was the youngest? There were wide-eyed four- and five-year-olds, holding on to their older brothers and sisters. But everyone was walking. No one was being carried.

Marianna wondered why the Piper didn't want toddlers. Why did he
want
anyone? What was he planning to do?

Marianna shivered and it wasn't just from the cold. But looking around, she seemed to be the only one who was getting nervous. The other children were wild with excitement. They were linking arms and pointing out strange shapes in the rock: an angel with arching wings, a snake rearing its head. Then one of the boys found a bit that looked green and slimy.