The Giant Key, page 7
‘Stop it!’ cried Max. He grabbed Anna’s arm, trying to shake the heart loose. ‘Can’t you see it’s tricking you again? You’re acting just like you did in England!’
Anna gasped, a perfect memory falling into place. With a delighted smile, she remembered the English river: remembered the sluggish green-brown flow, the unruly willow trees, the way the light had filtered through their leaves. She remembered the smell of the woodland grass, and the taste of the river water in her mouth; remembered sliding down the bank, a slick of mud accruing on her heels. The memory was glorious. Anna turned to Max, her senses giddy, amazed she could recall the scene in such immaculate detail.
The troll heart flashed hot. Anna reeled back, forcing herself not to scream as a weird energy shot through her veins. She could feel her muscles bubbling, swelling beneath her skin; her flesh suddenly felt as hard as granite. Max stared in fright as Anna twisted her head around, a yellow light gleaming from her eyes, a gob of black spittle dripping down her chin.
‘Anna?’ he said nervously. ‘Are you okay?’
There was no lake. There was no clearing, and no giant, and no witches. In that moment, all Anna could see was water: an infinite ocean spilling from the heart in her hand. The sun rocketed into the sky as black ooze pumped from the heart’s stony chambers; Anna’s skin singed as the sun began to scorch the endless sea, her swollen body stretching across the waves.
‘Stop it!’ said Max desperately. ‘Turn back, now!’
A bolt of lightning forked down from the sky. It struck the lake close to the shore, thunder booming in its wake. The witches shrieked, turning towards the light, the smell of electricity burning through the air. But there was nothing to see. The lake rippled in the rain, empty and vast, and the witches turned back to their work, preparing to torture the giant once more.
In the shadow of a log, the little black cat blinked its yellow eyes. It stared out at the water, its ears flicking about, a puzzled look upon its face.
And far away, on the other side of the world, Anna and Max were screaming.
11
OLD FRIENDS
‘WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?’ SQUEALED MAX. Anna gasped, a blast of salty air stinging the back of her stony throat. Fish swam about her feet as she took another step forward, marvelling as her foot settled upon the churning blue sea. Powerful waves crashed against her legs, breaking over her skin like the tide striking a cliff. She grinned, her lips cracking in the sudden heat, the sun blazing off her teeth.
Max was holding desperately onto her arm, his legs dragging through the water. He said a bad word as a wave splashed into his mouth, making him choke.
‘You’re a bloody idiot!’ he spluttered. ‘You never listen to me – always doing your own stupid thing. I’m never sharing my lollies with you again – my pants are sopping – selfish, dumb – look where you’re going, that’s a tidal wave!’
Anna flinched, tripping over her feet as a wall of water loomed above them. She didn’t feel like a troll anymore. She was suddenly reminded of the weakness of her flesh – of how easily her skin could split, so much softer and squashier than stone. The image she had been holding in her head slipped from her mind. She yelped as her legs sank into the water, Max flailing as he fell behind her, the water rushing over her head.
But the wave never hit. Anna coughed as she resurfaced, sucking in air that was fragrant and fresh. Sunlight trickled through willow leaves as Max popped up beside her. He looked around in astonishment, his eyes wild.
‘No way,’ he said. ‘That’s impossible.’ He turned to Anna, awestruck. ‘How’ve you done that?’
It was a cold and misty morning in the British countryside. The clouds were low and thick, leaving dewy tears on the willows and the meadow grass. Birds chirped from hidden hollows as the river flowed slowly around the children, the water cool against their waists, the mud hugging their feet.
Max waded ashore, staggering onto the bank. Anna followed him out, lifting the troll heart into the light, the last of the black ooze trickling away. She skipped between the willow trees, scrambling up the path past the trunks that curved like fishhooks, leading Max over a tumbledown fence and into a grassy field.
Standing in the field was a small boy with long, wavy hair. He was holding a pair of binoculars close to his face, peering towards the treeline at a family of robins. Lounging beside him was a white goat with curving horns, lazily chewing its cud.
Both of them jumped as Anna and Max shouted their names at the same time.
‘Billy!’ yelled Anna.
‘Jamie!’ cried Max.
Jamie Sparrow dropped his binoculars in shock. He rubbed his eyes, staring at the siblings as if he’d just seen a pair of ghosts.
‘Where did you come from?’ he said. ‘How are you here –?’
Billy the goat charged. He sprinted down the field, his horns turned down – and then he was leaping through the air, bounding into Anna’s arms, licking her face with a long pink tongue. Anna giggled, falling into the grass, rubbing Billy between his horns; then Jamie and Max were tumbling down on top of them, all of them laughing and shouting with excitement. It was only when Billy clambered off Anna’s chest that the three children could look at one another properly, savouring each other’s faces after a long year apart.
‘This is brilliant,’ said Jamie. ‘Come up to the hotel and we’ll get you all dried off. Lizzie’s got some gingerbread in the oven, of course – she’ll be ever so surprised to see you. We still talk about you all the time – and I want to hear all of your new stories, start to finish, every single word …’ His face fell as he saw Anna’s expression. ‘What’s wrong?’
The scent of gingerbread was sweet on the breeze. Anna wished it didn’t smell quite so lovely.
‘It’s not that sort of a visit,’ she said glumly. ‘Something’s come up – something we can’t handle on our own. We were wondering if you’d come and help us.’ She gritted her teeth. ‘It’s dangerous, though. Really dangerous. Worse than a troll.’
‘There are witches this time,’ said Max. ‘And a giant. And a graveyard.’
Jamie grimaced. He ran back across the field, picking up his binoculars from where they had fallen. He tucked them into his trousers, a determined look upon his face.
‘I knew I’d see you again one day,’ he said. ‘Last time we met fairies, you did all the work. I definitely owe you both a very dangerous favour.’ He frowned. ‘How did you get here, though? Did you come by boat?’
Anna sighed, patting Billy’s horns one last time.
‘It’s a bit stranger than that,’ she said. ‘And I’m not sure you’re going to like it.’
The waves loomed large around them, crashing like an orchestra. Max and Jamie screamed as a shark swam beneath them, its fins slicing through the swell; Anna winced as the troll heart flashed hot, struggling to keep her balance on the turbulent waters, desperately trying to keep a single memory fixed in her head.
She was thinking of another river now. Whitewater rapids rushed through her mind, the icy spray painful on her skin. She pictured the rapids descending from the mountain peak – from three peaks, prickling the clouds like the tines of a fork. Her skin began to harden again, new minerals sprouting through her bones, a bestial roar booming from her chest –
– and then the spell was cast, and all three children were plunging into waters far chillier than the English river. Anna struggled ashore, dragging the two boys behind her, her teeth chattering as she looked around.
It was a wet and wintry week in China. A fierce wind blew down the mountain, whistling through a grove of peach trees. Three jagged peaks towered above them, their spires composed of rock and ice: a crown sitting high atop the world.
On the shoulder of the mountain lay a small village, nestled snug against the cliffside. Smoke puffed from a dozen chimneys, the haze drifting over the red-roofed pagoda in the town centre. On the village outskirts, two matching houses stood side by side, a wizened old mulberry tree growing tall between them.
Once again, Anna couldn’t help smiling. She set off towards the village with a spring in her step, the boys hurrying to keep up.
‘I can’t believe we’re in China!’ spluttered Jamie. ‘I never thought I’d get to see the town where the dragon lived. And the mountains, and the peach trees, and …’ He paused, suddenly sombre. ‘I never thought I’d see the place where Mr Candle – you know.’
He turned around, staring up at the triple peak. Somewhere inside those mountains, Mr Candle had been devoured by a dragon. As evil as the man had been, it remained an upleasant thought.
They had arrived beneath the mulberry tree. Anna looked up at the house on the left, relieved to see a light burning in the upstairs window. She picked up a pebble and threw it gently against the pane.
A girl appeared at the window at once. Anna grinned widely as the girl’s mouth dropped open in shock – and then the window was opening, and a figure was leaping into the arms of the mulberry tree, and then the girl was tumbling down before them, her eyes wide with joy. Anna laughed as Ling Jie hugged her tight, the girl’s silky red robe tickling her cheeks.
‘How is this possible?’ demanded Jie. ‘How have you come here again?’ She grabbed Anna’s hand. ‘Where is your ring?’
‘It’s a long story,’ said Max. ‘We got turned into mice, and the ring changed us back.’ He frowned. ‘Guess it’s not that long, really.’
‘You were right about the blood magic,’ said Anna. ‘And now we need your help again. We’ve found a monster so big that we can’t handle it alone. Does that sound like an adventure you’d like to write about in your record books?’
Jie beamed. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a ceramic flute. The air seemed to swell around the mulberry tree as Jie held the wind-summoning instrument in her hand: the final treasure from the dragon’s magic hoard.
‘I’m in,’ she said. ‘I’d love to blow a monster away.’
In the short minutes that followed, Jie hugged Max and greeted Jamie, the two pen pals delighted to finally meet. Then the children ran to the riverside, preparing to step into the freezing current, and Anna’s thoughts were a thousand miles gone.
The children found Caspar on the shore of Lake Jewaher. He was waiting for them with folded arms, his tanned feet planted on the salty beach. He did not look pleased to see them.
‘You should not have travelled here this way,’ he said. ‘The spells of the old wood are not for human use. There could be consequences.’
‘Whatever,’ said Anna. ‘Like you’ve ever cared about following the rules.’
It was a dry and dusty day in Iran. Black slime dripped from Anna’s chin as she clambered ashore; she wiped her lips on the back of her sleeve, the taste hot in her mouth.
‘We need you, Caspar,’ said Max. ‘Cassandra’s come back, and she’s found a giant. If she gets her way, all your fairy secrets might be lost for good.’
Caspar’s expression darkened. He surveyed the children standing beside the desert plain: Max, his face hopeful; Anna, slumping on the sand; Jamie and Jie, so nervous in his presence they could barely look up. The genie’s eyes sparkled.
‘You mean to fight a giant with soggy children?’ he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. ‘I do not like your chances. The giant will make bread from your bones.’
Jamie’s face blanched. Anna raised her hands, shushing Caspar as quickly as possible.
‘This is serious,’ she said. ‘We don’t have time for jokes. The giant’s dead for now, but it won’t be dead much longer. Seems like the sort of thing humans and fairies should deal with together, don’t you think?’
The dunes murmured as a low wind blew over the hills. In the distance, the horizon wavered as a sandstorm rose and fell, forming a dark cloud against the wide blue sky.
Caspar nodded. He looked again at Jamie and Jie, their still heads bowed in fear. His lips twitched.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I will come.’
‘Are you sure about this one?’ said Max. ‘I thought we could leave her behind.’
The smell of salt was tangy in the air. Anna dragged herself across the claggy beach, her feet sinking deep. Behind her, Jamie vomited loudly into the shallows, holding his belly as Jie and Caspar patted him on the arm.
‘Oh!’ said a voice from the sea. ‘Anna! Is that really you?’
It was a damp and drizzly evening in Australia. The tide hissed angrily as it rushed over the sand, delivering its cargo of seaweed and shells. A natural stone jetty stretched into the ocean, a pair of white-fang pillars curling wickedly at its end.
A pale arm knifed through the water as a girl swam to the shore. Her skin was so white that it was almost translucent, and her hair was as dark as a tangle of kelp. She stopped before the tideline, her legs hidden in the swash, smiling with teeth that were far too sharp.
‘I knew you’d come and see me again!’ said Sylvie. ‘I bet you’ve been having a dreadful time on your own. It must be hard going on adventures without my help.’ Her face fell. ‘Who are all those people? Why aren’t you wearing your necklace?’
Anna stifled a groan. She walked into the water beside the mermaid, forcing a smile onto her face.
‘You’re right, Sylvie,’ she said. ‘We’re on another adventure now, and we really do need your help. In fact, we need all the help we can get.’ She splashed Sylvie with seawater. ‘How about it? Want to come and fight a giant?’
Sylvie’s eyes shone bright. Fish bones jangled on her chest as she wrapped her arms around Anna, giggling with pleasure. Her skin was scaly and cold.
‘Of course I’ll come,’ she said. ‘I can’t wait to meet your other friends.’ Her smile widened. ‘Do you think they’ll be jealous that I’m your best friend?’
Anna didn’t answer. She wobbled slightly as Sylvie swam away from her, barely watching as the mermaid girl greeted Max and all the rest. She didn’t feel good. Her skin felt too rough, her eyes too solid, her fingers rigid as claws. Every time she cast the troll’s spell, it felt as if another part of her body was lost.
But she wasn’t finished. Anna closed her eyes, humming beneath her breath, focusing on the most distant memory yet. The scene was as clear as ever. For all her weariness, Anna couldn’t help but feel excited.
She gathered her friends, the troll heart blazing hot, ready to return to the storm that had started it all.
Anna opened her eyes.
It was a dark and stormy afternoon in Transylvania. Rain thundered down the hillside, drumming against the sunken bridge as the children emerged from the raging river. Sylvie swam easily through the rapids, guiding Anna and Max to safety; Caspar hauled Jamie and Jie onto the slippery bank, his fiery skin smouldering. The children took shelter beneath a knotted tree, jumping as thunder rocked the sky.
‘Get used to this,’ said Max. ‘There’s a lot more bad weather where we’re going.’ He grabbed Anna as she stumbled, holding her up. ‘Are you okay? Do you want me to go and get her?’
‘No,’ said Anna. ‘Stay with the others. I won’t be long.’
‘Be careful,’ called Caspar. ‘The spell has worn you thin …’
But Anna was gone before she could hear the rest of Caspar’s warning. Every step she took made her gasp and wheeze, her lungs too stony to properly inflate; her nose dripped with black slime, like long black slugs wriggling down her face. Her body felt old. She cried out as she tripped over the roots of a wild, kingly tree, scared the fall might crack her brittle bones; she slid down the hill in a muddy mess, the howling of wolves echoing in her ears.
When Anna finally sat up, she was no longer in the forest. A field stretched out around her, wet grass tickling her cheeks. Lightning flashed as she looked around, blinking tired eyes.
At the end of the field was a building with white stone walls, its thatched roof covered in vines, a pot of purple flowers on every sill. Rain flowed off the eaves like a thousand tiny waterfalls, cascading past windows that glowed with cheery warmth.
A familiar sign sat beside the warped front door, the letters as chipped and faded as ever.
THE WILD THYME INN
The door creaked. Anna’s breath caught in her throat, watching as a girl stepped outside. She was wearing a green raincoat and a long black scarf, a bucket dangling by her side. The girl bent over as she ran towards the chicken coop at the end of the garden, her curly black hair bouncing on her shoulders.
Anna stood up, holding her arms as high as she could.
‘Isabella!’ she croaked.
The girl in the raincoat stopped. She peered into the storm, holding the bucket like a shield.
‘Alo?’ she said. ‘Who is there?’
Anna grinned, a warm, human feeling flickering in her chest. She took a step towards the girl with the bucket, feeling a bit silly.
‘Excuse me, young lady,’ she said. ‘I’m a travelling vampire, and I was wondering if you might have any nice fresh blood for me to drink. Do you know of anyone who could help?’
The girl in the raincoat squealed. She dropped the bucket, jumping over the garden fence in a single bound – and then Anna was howling with laughter as Isabella Dalca grabbed her and lifted her into the air, squeezing her so tightly she thought she might burst. The girls fell into the mud, staring deliriously at each other. The stormy afternoon light shone off the crescent scar on Isabella’s cheek.
‘So you’re a vampire now?’ giggled Isabella. ‘That’s a new development.’
‘I wish,’ said Anna. ‘Max and I were mice earlier today. Then I cast a spell to change us back, and now I’ve got an awful feeling that we’re all actually witches.’
It wasn’t supposed to be funny, but as the girls considered those solemn words, they couldn’t help bursting into hysterics. Anna lay back, choking on giggles, staring up at the storm clouds. With the smells of Romania all around her, it was easy to remember the last time she had trudged across that same field – remember the crazy, magical night her life had changed forever. Isabella had been by her side for that entire adventure, facing those same dangers, learning those same secrets. Through all the perils that had followed, Anna had missed Isabella more than anyone else.
