Emily Feather and the Chest of Charms (8 page)

“She's adding to the spell!” Robin whispered. “Dan never thought of that when he made her a bird. Singing's about the only thing she can do to fight back.”

“Look!” Sasha pointed. “In the tree, just above her.”

The greenish mist was shot through with golden lights now, and it was gathering closely around the branch above Lory, where a glittering chain secured the cage. And over it lay a white figure, stretched out along the branch, one paw wrapped around the chain.

“A cat!” Robin hissed, as Emily sang the last few words of the song. “Why's Dan disguised himself as a cat?”

“Because they're the best way to catch a bird? And because that white fur is hidden in the blossoms, I suppose. We didn't see him before, did we? Emily shrugged, still catching her breath from the song. “I think he's asleep,” she added, leaning out from behind the huge tree. “His eyes are closed, anyway.”

“No wonder Gruff couldn't stand him,” Robin muttered, as he trod softly out into the clearing, the starry flowers hardly crushed at all under his feet. The two girls followed, creeping closer and closer to the tree – close enough that the sweet scent of the blossom seemed to wrap itself all round them. It was too sweet.

At last they were right under the tree, the heavy branches drooping down. Lory was in her cage, hopping agitatedly on the perch, just above their heads.

“He
is
asleep,” Emily said, in the merest breath of a whisper, trying not to gag as the sickly scent of the flowers stuck in her throat.

Robin and Sasha nodded, and Emily stood on tiptoe, reaching up to the door of the cage. The mist of green magic was still wrapped round the white cat, who was stretched dozing on the branch, but his paw was over the chain – if the cage shook, he was sure to wake.

Sasha gently placed both hands around the bottom of the cage, holding it steady while Emily reached for the catch. It was a fiddly little thing, a loop of wire that had to be unhooked. All the while Lory was perched just on the other side of the pretty gilded door, her feathers trembling and her eyes fixed desperately on Emily.

Emily had just managed to pull the little door open, it creaking on its delicate hinges, when she heard Sasha gasp and saw Robin leap into the air beside her.

A fat white paw, edged with dagger-sharp claws, shot down, clanging the gilded door shut. Emily screamed as the claws raked down her hand and gouged Sasha's arm, but she kept hold of the door, pulling it open again as she scrambled backwards, trying to avoid the slashing paws.

The fragile cage buckled and the door sheared away from its hinges. The white cat sprang down from the branch, hissing furiously, and slipping on the smooth wire sides of the cage. He was trying to block the door, but Sasha and Emily shoved him away, and Robin had him round the shoulders, yanking him up into the air, with his tail lashing furiously.

“Get back to the door!” Robin yelled, as the cat twisted and yowled and slashed at his face, and Lory twirled up into the white blossoms, chirruping in delight.

“No!” It was a strange mixture of hissing and mewing and words, as the cat twisted and began to turn into something else – a figure with a cat-like face. It struggled against Robin's grip, growing larger and heavier every second, until at last he had to let it slide out of his fingers.

“Sasha, no! Get away from him!” Emily yelled as she saw the water fairy dart in close to the squirming mass of white fur, which was rapidly becoming a tall figure in a white velvet cloak. “What are you doing?”

“You'll see!” Sasha gasped. She had her gashed arm held up against her chest, the silvery fabric of her dress swathed around it. But as she leaned over Dan, she unwrapped the seeping cuts and stroked them down his face, and over the velvet, whimpering as the cuts dripped silver. Then she staggered back, glancing fearfully through the trees.

“What is it?” Emily caught Sasha as she reeled, and Lory landed on her shoulder, singing a strange anxious little call, over and over, and brushing the deep scratches with her gold and scarlet tail feathers.

“The hunt…” Sasha murmured, jerking her head towards the trees. “My scent. They know I'm here.”

Lory took off again, flying a circle round their heads and screeching. Robin grabbed Sasha's uninjured arm, dragging her towards the trees, half-running, half-flying, with great worried flaps of his wings.

“Better run, then!”

“Yes.” Sasha began to stumble through the flowers, but she kept looking back to Dan, now almost in his full fairy form and glaring after them as he knelt beneath the tree. His wings were growing now too, great white wings, like some sort of eagle. He looked like a warrior angel – except for the snarling grimace of anger on his face.

“Hurry! They'll catch you!” Emily panted, trying to haul Sasha on. She could hear the hunters, screeching triumphantly as they galloped on horseback, through the air this time, the hounds baying as they caught the scent. “Where's the door? Where's the hollow tree?”

“There!” Robin pointed ahead, and then risked a glance behind them. “But they're close,” he groaned. “They're gaining, I can see them above the clearing.”

Emily pounded through the ferns and reached out desperately for the gnarled bark of the ancient tree, gasping and coughing for breath. “Go through!” she screamed to Lory as she tried to drag Sasha through the gaping hole – the door. The scarlet bird shot through the door with a shrill cry of delight, but Sasha dug her nails into the bark and turned.

“What is it?” Emily asked angrily, pulling at her. “We can't wait, they'll catch you.” She swallowed down the ball of fear rising in her throat. “I know we're supposed to bring Dan back with us, but we'll do something else to free Lark. I don't know what, but we will. Won't we?” she begged Robin.

“He's coming…” Robin wasn't listening to her. He was hovering above the door, his wings beating in a grey-brown blur. “He's following us! What's he doing that for? He's been trying to get back into this world for hundreds of years!”

Stumbling wearily through the tall ferns was a white figure, a tall lord in a swirling velvet cloak – a beautiful garment that wasn't really made for running in. It flapped around his ankles as he bounded, still cat-like, towards the door.

“Is he after Lory?” Emily whispered, hunching back against the tree. Dan's eyes were still a cat's, green, and slit-pupilled, and he looked furious.

“They're after
him
…” Sasha giggled, and then she swept around and pulled Emily through the door so that the pair of them tumbled out into the attic, next to Lark and Lory.

“You're not a bird any more!” Emily cried, hugging Lory tightly.

“The door took the spell off. What's happened to Lark?” Lory demanded, squeezing Emily for a moment and then breaking away anxiously. “Look at her – she's asleep and I can't wake her.” Lory's eyes filled with tears. “Is that what I did to her, burning the feather? I didn't want to, Emily. He made me, somehow.”

Emily nodded. “It was the song. He bewitched you with it. But then he left a sort of spell fixed to the door, to trap us if we followed you. That's what got Lark.”

Robin fluttered out of the chest. “He's still following me. Sasha, what did you do?”

Sasha looked up from binding strips of silvery cloth around the deep scratches on her arm and smiled. “I gave him my scent. He was transforming back into his real self when I touched him. That's why he's coming back – because he doesn't have a choice.”

Robin stared at her. “The hunt are after him?”

“The hunt are after him.” Sasha nodded. “The hounds are confused – they know he isn't me, but the scent is there, you see. He can't get rid of it. So he'll have to escape through the door. And that will break the spell on Lark. I hope,” she added, looking worriedly at the sisters. Lory was curled over Lark now, patting at her greyish cheek and whispering to her.

“Will they follow him?” Emily asked anxiously. She could hear the hunters, shouting and hooting with excitement just beyond the door. There were footsteps too, getting closer and closer. “It's a secret door, you said! It isn't guarded, so they could come through too, couldn't they?”

Robin stared at her. “No…” he said. He looked at the chest, frowning, and then added, “We need to shut it. Let him get through to break the spell, and then slam it so the hunt can't follow.” He moved back closer to the chest, putting his hands on the lid. “Hold the other side,” he told Emily. “And get ready to slam it shut. He's coming!”

The tall white figure shot out into the room gasping and collapsed on the floor. “Not here…” he moaned feebly. “Not again.”

The sharp bang of the chest slamming down echoed around the dusty room, and Emily sat down on it, trying to think heavy thoughts.

“Bolt it!” she yelped to Robin, and he slid the heavy well-oiled hasps down and shoved an old walking stick through the holes.

“No one's getting in through that,” he said triumphantly. Then he giggled. “Someone's swearing blue murder on the other side of there, I can just hear. But it's fading. The door's closed on both sides now.”

The colour and life were rushing back into Lark's face and then she sprang up, with Lory beside her. They leaned over Dan, their faces looking identical for once, sharp and furious.

The white figure on the floor squirmed back a little and stared up at them uncertainly.

“Why did I ever think you were good-looking?” Lory snarled.

“He made quite a handsome cat,” Emily said, leaning over to see.

Dan hissed and muttered. Being a cat seemed to suit him. His nails were still long and sharp, and he had hardly any chin.

“He should stay as one. Gruff could keep him in order,” Lark said angrily. Then she looked round at Lory. “We could do that,” she said thoughtfully. “If we're quick. Before he gathers his strength again.”

“But Mum and Dad…” Lory began. “They'll feel the spell.” Then she sighed. “I suppose I'll have to tell them anyway.”

“They ought to be pleased,” Robin put in. “He was going to overthrow the king and we stopped him. They can't really complain! In fact, it sounds to me like we ought to get a raise in our pocket money.”

“Hold hands.” Lory reached out to Emily and Sasha, wrapping her hand very gently around Sasha's damaged arm.

They gathered in a ring around Dan, who was still squirming unpleasantly on the dusty boards, tangled in his silly velvet cloak. Emily wondered for a moment how she could have been frightened of him, and then she caught his eye and shivered. He was growing stronger again as they watched, starting to sit up, his face becoming harder and prouder.

“What do we do?” she whispered to Lory.

“Imagine him as a cat again. I'll do the rest.” Her eyes were glowing, Emily noticed – yellowish-gold, like an owl's.

Emily thought hard, remembering him stretched out in the tree, the soft white paws hiding sharp dagger-claws inside. Then she shut her eyes. She didn't want that sort of cat. She did her best to think about purring, and lap-cats, and a little collar with a fish-shaped tag, engraved
Dantis
.

An angry hiss startled her into opening her eyes again. A small white cat was sharpening his claws against the wooden boards, his green eyes sparkling with anger and his fur a little damp-looking.

Lark reached down and picked him up, holding him out at arm's length and smirking as he hissed and spat. “We'd better go and meet your new owners, kitty,” she said, turning as she heard hurrying footsteps on the stairs. “It's all right. Dad's always wanted a cat.”

“You'll have to be careful with Brownie,” Emily reminded Robin, looking at his pockets and wondering which one had a mouse in.

“Mmm.” Robin nodded. “If I find that white thug anywhere near my room, I'll post him back through one of the doors. Whatever that means with the hunt.”

“So – he can never go back?” Emily looked round at Sasha, who shrugged.

“I don't know for sure. But his scent will always carry a little bit of mine, I think.” She wandered over to the tiny window. “So the hunt would still chase him. Probably neither of us can ever go back.”

“Do you mind very much?” Emily asked her in a small voice. She leaned on the windowsill next to Sasha, peering out into the garden at the trees and the tiny pond far below.

Sasha wrapped her good arm around Emily's shoulders. “A little – some days more than others. It's a lot more exciting here, anyway. Fish don't have these sort of adventures.”

Emily giggled. “I suppose not. And there's better cake here, too.”

“True. And there are chances to go back, like today.”

Emily nodded. “It's worth it, isn't it?” she whispered. “Even though it's not safe.”

“Never safe,” Sasha agreed. She smiled and turned as Ash and Eva came hurrying through the attic door, staring in horror at the furry white fairy lord in Lark's arms. “Maybe we have the best of both worlds, Emily, don't you think?”

 

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First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd, 2014
This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd, 2014

 

Text copyright © Holly Webb, 2014
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Cover illustration © Rosie Wheeldon, 2014

 

eISBN 978 1407 14686 7

 

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