Soul Splinter Page 12

  Mooshie leant close to Moll. ‘A dolphin tooth to conjure speed, a fragment of rock to call protection close and a crab claw to summon strength.’

  Siddy’s face filled with dread and he shoved a hand beneath his stool. Breathing a sigh of relief, he brought Hermit up on to his lap; all of his useless claws were intact.

  Cinderella Bull tipped each of the objects into the glass bottle, then turned a wrinkled face back to the fire. ‘Moll, I’ll need you for this.’

  Mooshie got up suddenly and hugged Moll tight, then she drew back and sat by the fire. Moll was used to Mooshie’s embraces, but something about that one made her feel uneasy; what exactly would Cinderella Bull’s spell involve?

  Moll made her way towards the tunnel and Gryff stalked after her from their alcove.

  ‘Come close, child,’ Cinderella Bull instructed.

  Moll sat cross-legged beside the fortune-teller and Gryff tucked himself into the shadows a few metres away. Moll eyed the bottle of seawater nervously. The stone had sunk to the bottom, but the crab claw and dolphin tooth floated on the surface. ‘Do I have to drink it?’ She fiddled with her jumper cuff. ‘It’s just I’d rather not if that’s OK by you; I swallowed a fair bit of water this morning when the kelpie came after me.’

  Cinderella Bull smiled. ‘Not drink it, no. We’ll use it in another way – to help you pass freely from the cove.’ She said, ‘Let your legs dangle in the water.’

  Moll did as she was told and the cool water folded round her shins.

  Cinderella Bull picked up the bottle and handed it to Moll, then she placed a wrinkled hand on her shoulder. ‘When the next sunbeam shines into the cracks in the cave roof, hold the bottle up high.’

  Moll waited and waited and then, just when she thought it would never come, a sunbeam shone down, its light so gold it was almost white. It showered on to the bottle like rain and, as it did so, Cinderella Bull began to speak, her voice low and gusting, like a gathering wind.

  ‘Spirits of the sea, I call you near.

  Your magic I seek for this gypsy child here.

  She has a journey ahead, full of danger and peril.

  And I ask for your help—’

  She paused and peered at Moll out of the corner of her eye.

  ‘—though the girl is feral.

  Lend her the gift that will help her to pass

  Safe from this cove. Lend her soles of glass.’

  Moll turned an appalled face to Cinderella Bull. ‘Soles of glass?’

  But Cinderella Bull had closed her eyes and was sitting very, very still. Moll watched with her arm stretched out, and then a strange thing started to happen. Instead of glistening against the bottle, the sunbeam was swirling round the lip of it. Gryff raised his head and Moll gasped, feeling a gush of cold air rippling over her fingers, then she watched, open-mouthed, as the sunbeam slipped inside the bottle, mixing with the seawater. Moll blinked. The tooth, claw and stone had vanished.

  ‘Bring the bottle down,’ Cinderella Bull said quietly.

  The water stilled inside it, now a glittering gold. Gryff moved closer until he was just a metre from Moll.

  ‘Keep your feet in the water and pour the liquid over them until just a small amount remains in the bottle.’

  Moll leant forward and did as Cinderella Bull said. The liquid hit the water, but, instead of sinking or dissolving, it hung round her feet like flecks of floating gold. And out of the corner of her eye, where the tunnel wound out to sea, Moll glimpsed something else – something scaled and shimmering beneath the surface. She peered closer, her heart thumping, as a purple tail swished like silk through the shadowy waters.

  ‘What – what is it?’ Moll’s voice was little more than a whisper and she felt a sudden urge to yank her feet out of the water, but Cinderella Bull placed a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Keep still, child. A sea spirit has heard my call.’

  Moll watched, hardly breathing, as a creature covered in purple scales swam slowly beneath the water towards her. It stilled, as if suspended below her feet, and Moll saw that its entire body was scaled, even the hands and face. Thick black eyelashes curled round its eyes, its lips were emerald green and long strands of black hair swayed with the current. Moll’s eyes widened as the sea spirit reached out two scaled hands and began swishing its fingers through the gold flecks around Moll’s feet. The gold seemed to bend and move, as if it was firmer than liquid, and a moment later Moll noticed the sea spirit was holding two gold shapes – long, transparent and thin – and they were moving slightly, as if they had a life of their own.

  ‘What are they?’ Moll asked.

  But Cinderella Bull said nothing. She simply watched as the sea spirit slipped the shapes beneath Moll’s feet. Moll jumped as they touched her skin; they tickled her toes and sent tremors up and down her arches. But the sea spirit held them there and, after a while, the shapes settled beneath Moll’s feet. And then the creature sank deeper into the water and, with one flick of its satin tail, it disappeared down the tunnel and the water fell dark and still once more.

  Moll breathed again. It was hard to believe that what she’d seen had been real.

  Cinderella Bull smiled. ‘Our world is full of magic, Moll.’ She nodded towards the bottle in her hands. ‘Gryff needs to drink the rest of the liquid. It’ll keep him safe from the Shadowmasks too.’

  Moll moved closer to the wildcat and looked at his yellow-green eyes glowing in the darkness. Tipping the last few drops from the bottle into her palm, she held it out to him. Gryff twitched his nose above the gold water, then his whiskers bristled and for a while he just stood there, not moving, not trusting. But, when Cinderella Bull looked away, Gryff dipped his head and slowly licked the mysterious liquid from Moll’s palm.

  ‘Now bring your feet up,’ Cinderella Bull said.

  As Moll did so, she gasped. ‘The soles of my feet! They’re – they’re gold!’

  One by one, the others left the fire and gathered round the tunnel.

  ‘What did you see?’ Siddy whispered. ‘There was magic in the tunnel, wasn’t there? We could all feel it!’

  Moll’s eyes sparkled. ‘I saw a sea spirit – right here in our cove.’ Siddy’s jaw dropped, Alfie raised a hand to his mouth and Scrap shrank further inside her sail tunic. Moll rolled her ankles over and stared at her soles; they were so gold they looked as if they’d been painted with sunlight.

  Mooshie helped Cinderella Bull to her feet. ‘You did it,’ she said.

  Cinderella Bull smiled weakly, as if performing the spell had drained not only her magic but a little part of her life too. She leant against Mooshie for support. ‘I did. Though it won’t be nice for Moll . . .’ She tightened the shawl round her shoulders. ‘When you leave this cove, Moll, your soles will protect you – provided you go barefoot. They will enable you to pass from here unseen by the Shadowmasks, and the same magic that surrounds you will keep Gryff safe too. The Shadowmasks might see Siddy, Alfie and Scrap, but without you and Gryff they won’t bother coming close – it’s not them they’re after. It’ll be slower progress than on cobs – but until the moon comes up you’ll be safe, so you’ll need to get as far away from here as you can in that time.’

  Moll looked from Cinderella Bull to Mooshie who were both avoiding her eyes. ‘There’s something else – a catch, isn’t there? What are you not telling me?’

  Cinderella Bull twisted her rings. ‘The soles will provide safety, but their magic comes at a cost. When you set foot outside my protection charms in the cove, it will feel as if you’re stepping on glass.’ She fiddled with her shawl. ‘I called upon the sea spirits for the only safe passage spell I knew – but it called for soles not paws – and it will mean that you have to carry the pain, Moll.’ The fortune-teller looked away. ‘It was the only way I knew to get you and Gryff safely from Little Hollows. I’m sorry.’

  Moll turned her foot over and bit her lip. ‘Like running on glass?’

  Cinderella Bull nodded. ‘I wish there
was another way.’

  Gryff blinked at Moll, then he nudged her feet over and licked her soles.

  Alfie tried to object. ‘We can’t do this. It’ll be agony for Moll!’

  Moll took a deep breath, then, holding Gryff close to her, she looked Alfie in the eye. ‘Maybe. But it’ll get us closer to the amulet and helping Oak.’ She paused. ‘And to the truth behind your past.’

  Alfie’s face twisted. ‘But—’

  Moll shook her head. Since Alfie had ridden Raven into the sea after her, she had felt the distance between them shrink a little. ‘You helped me with the kelpie earlier. And I said I’d make you real – so that’s what I’m going to do.’

  Fingers wrapped tight round the catapult Hard-Times Bob had carved for her, Moll crouched inside the hollow dish of rock above the cave with Gryff, Alfie, Siddy and Scrap. Further along the coastline, beyond Little Hollows, the sea swirled inside inlets and broke against rocks and the afternoon sun lay hidden behind clouds. There was no sign of Ashtongue or Darkebite and her owls, but, as Moll glanced down at the smuggler child beside her, almost swamped by the duffle coat she had borrowed, her heart filled with doubt. Could she really lead them to the Blinking Eye?

  ‘You’re sure we should follow the rocks round the coast rather than taking the cliff path?’ Moll whispered.

  Scrap nodded.

  ‘And you’re absolutely certain the Dreads won’t be in Bootleggers Bay?’ Alfie asked. ‘They’ll still be selling their goods inland?’

  Scrap sighed impatiently and nodded again.

  For a second, Moll craned her neck back to where Mooshie, Cinderella Bull and Hard-Times Bob were huddled down on the beach. She knew they couldn’t follow – Mooshie needed to look after Oak, and the fortune-teller and her brother were too old for a journey like this – but, despite all that, Moll couldn’t help wishing they were all up on the rocks together.

  Siddy lifted Hermit from his pocket and cradled the crab close.

  Moll took a deep breath. ‘I suppose however scared we feel we’ll know Hermit’s probably feeling a hundred times worse.’

  Scrap crept out of the dish first, stepping carefully over the line of pebbles Cinderella Bull had arranged to keep them safe. Alfie followed, then, hardly daring to breathe, Moll, Gryff and Siddy did the same.

  Almost at once the air stirred. A wind seemed to come from nowhere, curling round the group, whipping bigger, darker clouds over the sun, and Moll stood absolutely still, transfixed by fear. Gryff growled. But the sea spirit’s spell held the darkness at bay, and moments later the clouds slid back and the wind grew quieter.

  Moll squeezed up her toes and shuddered. Soles of glass, and she’d have to endure them until the moon rose. A seagull called above them and Moll jumped and felt for Gryff, then she set off over the rocks after the others. She winced, waiting for the pain to sear through her feet – but it never came. Her soles felt tender, as if she might be walking over newly-cut gravel instead of smooth rocks, but this was a pain Moll could bear. Darting catlike from rock to rock, she leapt over crevices and scrambled up crags.

  She slid a glance to Gryff and, to her surprise, he shied away from her, leaping towards the cliff face. He carried on running and Moll frowned. Ever since the Shadowmasks had started coming for her, Gryff had run by her side, always alert for danger. But today something was different. He had deliberately moved away.

  Alfie paused on a rock to tighten the straps of the rucksack that held the blankets and extra food. He looked back at Moll. ‘Are your feet all right?’

  Moll nodded. ‘They’re nothing like as bad as Mooshie and Cinderella Bull said they’d be.’

  Siddy hoisted himself up on to a boulder. ‘Maybe they were just being overprotective.’

  The coastline was getting wilder now and the rocks fell away sharply to their right, dropping down to waves that sucked and smashed far below. The children edged closer to the cliff face and Moll felt the barnacles and limpets digging into her soles. But they were speeding away from Little Hollows now – every step bringing them closer to the Blinking Eye.

  Only Gryff seemed to linger, his pace slower suddenly, his strides jerky and unnatural. Siddy raised an eyebrow at Moll – he could tell something was up – but they were rounding the headland now and there was Bootleggers Bay, the beach strewn with junk and barrels and lined with driftwood shacks below the cliffs. Scrap stopped, biting down on her sail tunic, and they hunkered down together before passing a flask of water around. The sun was lower in the sky now, half masked by a haze of cloud, and, although there was no activity in the bay, the gorse spreading down the cliff was dead, an unsettling sign that the Shadowmasks had been here too.

  Gryff hung back from the group still and, though Moll called out to him, he refused to come any closer. Moll glanced from Scrap to Alfie and Siddy. No one said anything, but it was obvious what the Tribe were thinking. Was Scrap someone they could trust? Was she leading them to the Blinking Eye or straight into the hands of the Dreads? And then, to their surprise, Scrap began lowering herself over the edge of the rocks. The sea swelled and crashed some ten metres below.

  ‘Scrap, be careful!’ Moll hissed.

  They peered over the edge of the rocks to see the smuggler child perched on a ledge overhanging the sea.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Siddy moaned. ‘Hermit and I are not following you out there.’

  But Scrap was pointing at something below, her eyes wide and pleading.

  Moll moved closer so that she could see more clearly and there, knocking against the rocks, were two double-seated kayaks. They had been tied to a rock with rope and inside were four paddles.

  ‘They’re kayaks,’ Alfie said. ‘They must belong to the Dreads.’

  Siddy clutched at his hair. ‘No. Absolutely no. We are not going in kayaks. We don’t even know if they’re watertight.’

  Alfie looked at Moll. ‘It’ll be easier on your feet and it’s the only way on, isn’t it? These cliffs are too steep to scale now.’

  Moll nodded. ‘We need to keep moving, Sid; we’ve only got until the moon rises before I lose the gold soles.’

  Siddy screwed up his face. ‘How are we even going to get down to the kayaks?’

  A whistle sounded from the ledge and they peered over to see Scrap edging towards the lip.

  ‘Get back, Scrap!’ Siddy yelled.

  The smuggler child grinned, then, without warning, she hurled herself off the rock. The others gasped. Seconds later, a mop of dreadlocked hair popped up from the sea and Scrap hauled herself and her drenched clothes on to the rocks beside the kayaks.

  ‘Come on,’ Alfie said, and before Siddy could stop him he reached out a hand, shot it inside Siddy’s pocket, yanked Hermit out and lowered himself on to the ledge.

  ‘You’ve – you’ve kidnapped Hermit!’ Siddy spluttered.

  Alfie nodded, creeping further across the platform of rock. ‘Because that’s the only way I’m going to get you off this ledge, Sid!’ He leapt from the rock into the sea and Siddy found himself scrambling down on to the platform, legging it across the ledge and charging head first after his beloved crab.

  He bobbed up, red-faced, and dragged himself up on to the rocks. Hermit lay upturned in Alfie’s palm and Siddy snatched him back. ‘You made him faint,’ he muttered. ‘And you soaked our rucksack.’

  Scrap giggled as she wrung out her coat and Moll climbed back over the rocks towards Gryff. She bent down opposite him and the wildcat did something he had never done to her before. He bared his teeth and hissed before lashing out with his paw. Moll jerked away, just missing the blow, then she watched, stunned, as Gryff turned his back on her. Moll’s skin prickled with unease. Although the others were cautious around Gryff, she’d never felt afraid. Until now . . . Why was he acting so oddly? Did he sense that this was a trap? That Scrap wasn’t someone they could trust? But what other option did they have?

  Moll edged away from the wildcat, back towards the cliff edge. Clutching her catapult so
that she didn’t lose it on jumping, she lowered herself on to the ledge and peered down. The waves loomed beneath her and Moll felt her body sway, then she thought of the amulet and of Oak lying wounded in the cave and she scrunched up her fists and leapt. Her stomach swung into her mouth as she tumbled through the air before crashing down into the sea. She surfaced, breathless and cold, then swam towards the rocks and pulled herself up.

  They untied the kayaks and Moll tucked herself into the smaller one behind Scrap while Siddy begrudgingly manoeuvred himself and Hermit into the larger kayak with Alfie. They pushed out from the rocks, wobbling and yelping as they adjusted their balance to the rhythm of the boats. But Gryff remained ashore, his back turned, his head hung low.

  Moll called out to him. ‘Come on, Gryff! You’ve got to follow us!’ He growled and stayed where he was and Moll glanced at the boys. ‘I’m worried. Gryff just lashed out at me and he’s never done that before. What if he’s acting strange because he’s suspicious.’ She paused, not daring to catch Scrap’s eye – but the others knew what she was thinking. And so did Scrap.

  The smuggler child twisted round to face Moll and smacked her paddle against the water, her eyes filling with tears.

  ‘Gryff seemed OK with Scrap back in the cove, didn’t he?’ Alfie said.

  Scrap nodded, blinking back her tears.

  Alfie dug his paddle into the sea and moved his kayak closer to Scrap’s. ‘We don’t think you’re spying for the Dreads, Scrap. It’s OK.’ She reached out a hand to find him and Alfie held up his palm until their fingers met. ‘We trust you to get us to the Blinking Eye.’ He looked up at the wildcat on the rocks. ‘Gryff’s never liked the sea, Moll – perhaps it’s that. He’ll follow if we keep moving.’

  But Moll knew it was more than that and, as the group got into a rhythm with their kayaks, she kept casting anxious looks behind her.

  They were halfway across Bootleggers Bay when Moll started shouting. ‘Yes, Gryff! Keep going!’