The Black North (18 page)

No bother
, Oona told herself. (She wished to ignore stings and bleeding.)

But bother came when she leapt in and landed – among all the detritus and decay she began to sink and kept sinking, soon past her ankles and up to the shins, and Oona held onto the iron fence to stop herself being swallowed. Then she stopped. It felt warm around her feet, and wet. Like standing tall in lukewarm porridge. And she couldn't ignore that smell! Oona moved only the littlest and the vapours – more coil and more slither – wove into her nostrils and down into her belly and settled, trying to make her retch.

Need to keep on moving
, she decided.

Every step had to be a stagger and stumble, and when Oona reached for support whatever she touched prickled or oozed or stung or all at once –
hurt
. The more she walked, the more she felt like she was wading. The garden soon closed in around her waist.

‘I told you to stay put!' cried Merrigutt.

The jackdaw arrived on a branch beside Oona.

‘I just shouldn't bother any more, should I?' said the jackdaw. ‘Should save my breath! Just you wait and see, my girl, there's coming a good day when you'll wander off and you'll need my help and you'll regret all this not listening!'

‘Give it a rest,' said Oona. ‘Sound like my granny.'

‘Well luckily for you, it's not far. And there doesn't seem to be anything lurking or ready to take a bite out of you.'

Oona went on in a plunge, tramping down and snapping anything that tried to hold her. She found a stick, one she judged good for the job, and began to beat things back.

‘See the statue there?' said Merrigutt, and added before Oona could look or reply, ‘Just head for that.'

Oona didn't bother looking. She just kept her head down, battling harder, thinking of herself and Morris battling through Drumbroken forests when they were younger, all the scores of imaginary enemies they'd vanquished as they'd gone, the pair of them side by side, whacking rods at innocent-seeming undergrowth and –

‘You can stop now, you maniac!' cried Merrigutt.

Oona stopped herself and looked up – Big House, Big Mess. She couldn't see any windows except the one at the very top in the tower, and no door, no way to get inside. House shut tight as a stone. And in case Oona was a doubter, a sign nailed near by said –

NO ENTRY IN AT ALL!

And then Oona saw the statue Merrigutt had mentioned.

In a stone fountain stood a stone girl. Naked, body outstretched, balancing on one foot, her legs heron-skinny and stone arms up-reaching, hands open like she was waiting to catch. Her expression was blissful. Water seeped from the girl's scalp, coating her shoulders with a grey-greenish sheen and travelling on down her arms and ending in a stone bowl. Oona looked in – moss wavered like mermaid's tails over a bed of copper coins, a cache of cheapest wishes.

Merrigutt landed on the statue's head and started to sip water from the gurgling crown. Some voice spoke: ‘Bloody cheek.'

‘Did you just say something?' Oona asked Merrigutt.

‘No,' said Merrigutt, but with a sudden stillness to match the statue. ‘But I heard.'

‘You'd better get out of here before I lose it completely! That's a warning there!' It was a shrill voice, sourceless.

Oona and Merrigutt looked at each other. And their looks shifted, in the same moment realising –

‘That's it! Get off me, bird!'

Merrigutt was tossed into the air, complaining and
caw-cawing
as the statue of the girl in the fountain found life and leapt and beat her arms at the jackdaw. Then she went still again. Was blissful again, and expectant and peaceful and poised.

‘What in Drumbroken's name just happened?' asked Oona.

Merrigutt came back to Oona's shoulder, whispering, ‘I've never seen such magic. One thing to make the earth rise and walk, but to bring to life something that never had life in it? And with such spite and malice in its manner!'

‘Who says I never lived? How dare you!'

It was the statue of the girl again, speaking. But Oona had been watching – nothing but the girl's stone lips had moved, and even then just with a small squirm as she'd spoken.

Merrigutt began to Oona, ‘Look, I think we need to just –'

‘–
leave
!' finished the statue. ‘Get out and don't come back! You're trespassing here!'

Oona took a breath.
Now how
(she asked herself)
are we going to get around this?
She tried with, ‘Please, we don't come to insult or nothing. I can understand, us just appearing like this in your …' Oona's hands swept through the air, attempting to encompass the –

‘Dump of a garden,' whispered Merrigutt. The statue heard, scowled.

‘Your
home
,' said Oona. ‘And we'd be grateful enough if you could inform us of how we might get entry into the –'

‘I'm not telling you the way in!' And for a moment the statue lost all serene aspect to stamp a small stone foot. ‘You can get that notion outta your heads! The Master doesn't like to be disturbed. He likes to stay alone and do his thinking and watching and I will honour his wishes for always!'

Then she was still and restored again, her smile directed to dull sky as though it were flushed with summer.

‘Madness,' was all Merrigutt said.

Oona half-turned and lowered her voice, trying to forge some privacy between herself and the jackdaw. ‘All right,' she said. ‘How do we get round her? No matter what, we need to get inside.'

‘It's a fool's task,' Merrigutt told her. ‘But I'll try anyway.'

Then in a voice so loud it made Oona cringe, Merrigutt declared: ‘Statue! We wish to enter the Big House! And I believe as common citizens of this Isle – previously the Blessed Isle, now Divided these many years since the coming of the Invaders – we have a right to address whoever calls himself the Master of this area and the township known as Loftborough! On this firm basis, with this custom in mind, I request and implore you to obey!'

Replied the statue without hesitation: ‘And I
request
and
implore
you to get lost!'

Replied Merrigutt: ‘You cheeky little –!'

Oona tried not to listen.
Maybe
, she thought.
Perhaps
… her fingers went to her satchel, and then inside to find the Loam Stone. Perhaps and maybe, she might snatch some small knowledge.

Meanwhile, Merrigutt and the statue kept up their fierce bickering –

‘If the man who lives in this Big House calls himself any kind of Master, as you say, then he'd be more than willing to receive guests, not just leave them to wander about in his excuse for a garden!'

‘Go and get stuffed!'

‘Some immature magic has brought you into being, I'm sure, with a tongue like that. Such words!'

‘Here's two more words for you –'

The statue swore and Merrigutt loosed a furious call, somewhere between bird and old woman.

Oona kept silent, and waited. Her gaze was drawn again to that snooping-window in the tower. In the darkness behind glass, someone was crouched, but they couldn't stay hidden. Oona closed her eyes. The Stone warmed her palm, and then a nightmare was emblazoned on her mind –

Two children, a boy and girl crouching frightened, a cold father standing close then closing something on them, shutting them in somewhere. Trapping them? Hiding them. The children were watching through small spaces – they saw other men arriving to take their father, not with fire or threat like Slopebridge, but here with firm requests, signed papers. And the man, the father, went without protest. The children were left on their own. The screams came later – other men came, in uniform, and the ground beneath the Big House was dug and dug and broken open and things were awoken in the dark that should have stayed sleeping and then sent off into Loftborough and –

‘– and you're not getting in and that's the end of it!' said the statue.

‘He's afraid,' said Oona. She opened her eyes. This time it took long moments – deep breaths – before the nightmare left her at all. But images were still keen to crowd, to show more, and the sound of screaming went on and on and on, tireless echo.

‘What did you say?' asked the statue.

Oona thought some of the girl's snappishness had softened.

‘He's afraid of what might come,' said Oona. ‘Your Master, he's afraid of the Briar-Witches. Nightmares every night about them coming. He was left alone in the house. He's hiding, and he's afraid.'

Oona looked again to the tower, and what she saw there was a shadow small and fearful. The statue of the girl said nothing.

‘We need to see him,' said Oona. ‘We're here to help the people in Loftborough. All of them, your Master too.'

Merrigutt came back to Oona's shoulder to rest.

‘Promise it?' said the statue of the girl. So different suddenly: demure, almost obedient, like a child full of spite then scolded and trying to make amends. ‘Do you promise you'll help him and not hurt him? Not like those things underground?'

‘Promise,' said Oona.

‘And her,' said the statue, prodding one stone finger in Merrigutt's direction. ‘That old one on your shoulder isn't the politest. What's she going to do?'

‘She's here to help, too,' said Oona, before Merrigutt said a thing. ‘Don't worry about that.'

A silence.

Then the statue cleared her stone throat and said in words formal, rehearsed: ‘Very well. In the name of the Master of this Big House, I shall admit you!' She left her fountain completely in a leap, and with two stone hands took hold of the stone bowl where she'd stood and twisted it like a stubborn wheel. ‘My advice,' she said, no longer formal, sounding gleeful, ‘is to keep your head down and your arms and legs tucked tight. Also eyes shut and nose pinched.'

Any asking there might've been from Oona of
Why
? or
What do you mean
? wasn't allowed. In the next moment the ground opened wide and Oona fell, Merrigutt clinging hard to her shoulder as the sight of wild garden and Big House and drab sky were left above, the stone girl's laughter the only thing to accompany as they plummeted into the earth.

Through plenty of dark and then dropped into more – Oona landed on her backside and stayed there. But Merrigutt stayed in the air, raging, sending echoes so loud and many that Oona thought all the jackdaws that had entered the Kavanagh cottage may as well have been back with her –

‘Treacherous blood statue!' (Like the stone figure in the fountain could hear.) ‘You've got some gall but I've more! Let me tell you, when I get a hold of you I'll make rubble out of you!'

Oona stood. She let her hands explore, checking she was all there and, most important, looking for the Loam Stone – still in her satchel, alongside their little leftover food, and the pistol.

Her raging in the air nearer done with, Merrigutt arrived on Oona's shoulder to complain
:

‘Fool of a statue! But me the bigger fool. Evelyn Merrigutt outwitted by a lump of stone – getting too soft for my own good. Well no more, I tell you. By the Sorrowful Lady, I say no more!'

‘Would you be quiet!' said Oona. ‘Hell's bells – sounded like my granny before and now you sound like my brother, ranting and raving because someone got the better of you.'

Merrigutt surely had some retort to offer but hadn't time for it: instantly there was another loud voice speaking –

‘Why have you been admitted here? No one is allowed entry to this house without some show of knowledge. Tell me – why have you come?'

It was a voice not unlike the statue's – high, demanding, almost petulant. And proud. Oona couldn't withhold an image of Morris, his way of standing and speaking when he needed to be listened to, agreed with.

‘Do not speak!' the voice said. ‘I shall pose the questions and you shall merely answer! I am the Master of this house and you shall do as I bid!'

Definitely a boy speaking
, Oona decided.

‘Do not tell me why you have arrived!' the boy said, though still neither Oona nor Merrigutt had attempted a word. ‘I am going to guess …'

Oona waited.

Then a loud squeal from the boy of, ‘I have it! Oh, I have it well! You are here because …
you want my help
!'

Merrigutt whispered, ‘Quick on the uptake, isn't he?'

‘
Silence!
'

So shrill a cry against the ears it made Oona cringe. She tried to see where the boy was standing, or maybe just sense him, but couldn't: felt as though she wasn't being allowed.

And again he announced, ‘
Silence!
I have not yet finished the full extent of my guessing! True knowledge takes time, don't you know?'

A pause from him. Some shallow breathing.

‘I also deduce,' the voice of the boy went on, ‘that you are here because you are on a journey. You have travelled far. And – yes, I know this is quite correct – you intend to keep travelling, to leave here and move on somewhere else. To travel, indeed, to the very edge of everything. Am I right?'

Oona thought it best to play, to agree: ‘Yes, that's completely right. Well done, you. You have us all worked out. Now, we're wondering if –'

‘Don't patronise me!' said the boy.

His voice was close, surely just beside, so Oona turned like he might suddenly appear. But then not. His voice shifted between near and further: a shout against her ear, and then like a distant call from across a valley –

‘I do not need your flattery!'

Oona realised she didn't have a notion where the boy was, or where she was herself. Good thing she had Merrigutt and her knowing.

‘Why are you making such a show of things, boy?' asked the jackdaw. ‘And this trick of darkness and echoes so we can't see or find you – this is Briar-Witch magic. Why not show yourself without such veils and games?'