Return to Roar, page 12
The tattoo, the moonlit scene outside the window . . . they’re identical. Crowky wanted to scare me and make sure the right fear was planted in my mind, and it worked. But he also showed me where the Box was hidden.
“The Box must be on that island!” cries Rose.
I grab Win’s telescope and go to the window. “It’s not an island,” I say. “Not now anyway. The sea around it is frozen, joining it to the land.”
“But if I’d come when the sea was warmer I could have got there,” says Mitch, and for a moment we stare at the moonlit island where we are sure the Box is hidden.
“We should go now,” I say, remembering Crowky’s frantic energy, certain that since he left me he hasn’t stopped thinking about the Box. “If we’re quick, we can get the Box and be back before dawn. The Alisha is faster than the Raven. We can easily outrun Crowky!” I’m imagining getting back to Win’s cave and spending the rest of the holiday as I’d planned—lazy days riding dragons, swimming, and exploring every corner of Roar.
“This is our chance to get ahead of Crowky,” says Rose. “Once we’ve got the Box we can take you home, Mitch!”
“Home,” she says, smiling. “I would love that.”
Suddenly everything seems within our reach, and I’m so sure that we’re going to get to the Box before Crowky that right now I don’t even care what’s inside it. Win, filled with the excitement of the moment, pulls out his wand and shouts, “Whistle fur!” and a clutch of marshmallows burst from the end of his wand, falling over us like snow.
“There is one problem,” says Rose. “The moon’s so bright that Crowky will see us rowing to shore.”
“Leave that to me,” says Mitch, picking a marshmallow out of her hair and popping it in her mouth. “I’ll conjure up something awesome to hide the boat.” Then she selects a bottle from the shelf and shakes it. “Maybe I’ll bring the mist back, or make a snowstorm.” She pulls the cork out with her teeth and starts shaking white drops into her cauldron.
I try to be patient as Mitch mixes and stirs. I tighten my laces and pull up the hood on my onesie. Win does a few ninja moves, annoying Mitch by bumping into her and making her drop a handful of fish into her potion.
Rose just stares out of the window, her eyes fixed on the shadow that points to the island.
Mitch swims ahead of us, pulling the rowboat through a blizzard of fat snowflakes. Her spell has worked brilliantly and snow is falling heavily.
She turns to look at us. “I can’t see a thing,” she whispers, scowling at Win. “Far too many herring went in the cauldron.” Then she slips back into the water and the boat starts moving again.
“I helped,” protests Win. “There’s no way Crowky will be able to see us in this.”
He’s right. The snow may be heavy and cold, but it totally hides us from view. I just hope Mitch’s spell lasts until we’ve found the Box and gotten back to the Alisha. Plus, dawn is coming. Through the swirling snow I can see that the sky is starting to lighten.
The boat bumps against ice. There were too many rocks around the island for us to land there, so Mitch has brought us as close as we can get. We’ll walk through the forest and get to the island that way. Hopefully Mitch will join us there.
Her head bobs back up. “Remember: when you get to the trees walk west.”
“Be careful,” says Rose.
Mitch laughs at the idea that something could happen to her. Frost is dusted across her eyelashes and hair. Her lips are blue from the cold. “It’s you three who need to be careful,” she says. “This is the End. I’ve not been sailing these waters long, but I can tell you it’s a strange place. And remember: Crowky is close.”
How could we forget? We climb out, then Mitch disappears under the water and starts pulling the boat back out to sea.
“This way,” says Rose, and she leads us across the slippery ice that hugs the shore. Once we get to land, Rose reaches into Mitch’s bag and pulls out a compass. We trudge forward. So this is the End, I think as my feet sink into the deep snow. I should want to explore, but right now all I want to do is get the Box and get out of here.
We reach the forest and walk between tall trees. Their branches are heavy with snow and occasionally a clump falls to the ground, making us jump. But except for this, and our crunching footsteps, the forest is eerily silent.
The trees start to thin and Rose comes to a sudden stop. “We’re here,” she whispers.
We’ve reached the sea and in front of us lies the island. It’s like a scene from a snow globe: whirling snow falls on a domed island dotted with fir trees. Thick ice stretches from where we’re standing to craggy rocks. Behind us is the tall tree I saw from the deck of the Alisha; its shadow makes a path that leads directly to the island.
“Let’s go,” I say as the three of us step onto the ice. “Let’s find the Box and get rid of it once and for all.”
We take tentative steps forward. “But how will we get rid of it?” asks Win. “I mean, we never managed it before.”
Sometimes I wish Win would keep his thoughts inside his head. “Well, we will this time,” I say. “We can take it back to Home or get Bad Dragon to eat it. We’ll think of something.”
Win puts his arm around my shoulders. “I know you will,” he says with total confidence.
We reach the island and split up. Soon our footsteps have made intricate patterns in the snow as we run backward and forward searching for the Box. We look under the trees, kick snow away from the base of rocks, and Win even climbs to the top of the tallest tree to check in the branches.
I’m just starting to wonder if I could have been wrong about this island when I hear a hear a loud crack coming from the frozen sea. A moment later a rock and some golden sparks shoot through the ice and Mitch’s face pops out of the hole. She takes enormous gasping breaths as she pulls herself onto the ice. “Blimey,” she says, laughing and sucking on her webbed fingers, “that was cold. So where’s the Box? I thought you’d have it by now.”
“We can’t find it,” says Rose, trying to hide the panic in her voice.
“Any idea where you might have put it?” shouts Win from up in the tree.
“SHHHH!” we say.
“SORRY!” he yells back.
Mitch pulls herself next to us and studies the island. She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I haven’t got a clue.”
I’m just wondering when we should give up—we don’t want the snow to clear and reveal our hiding place to Crowky—when Win shouts, “I’VE GOT IT!”
“SHHHH!” we say again, but he ignores us, slithers out of the tree, and runs to a pile of rocks.
“Mitch, show us your tattoo,” says Win.
Once again Mitch pushes up her shirtsleeve, only it’s difficult this time because the fabric has frozen into stiff folds.
Win points at the cross that marks the fish’s eye. “This is where it’s hidden!” he says. “Up in the tree I could see that this island is shaped like a fish, and those rocks over there”—he waves at a clump of rocks sitting in the water—“they make a fishy tail, and these”—he pauses here to pat the rocks—“are where its eye should be.”
“Huh,” says Mitch, staring at her own tattoo. Then she looks up and grins. “X marks the spot! I’m a genius!”
We don’t waste another moment. We start scooping up handfuls of snow and digging around the base of the rocks. Then Rose hisses, “I can feel something!”
Together, we push snow out of the way until smooth surfaces are revealed. I wipe off the last layer of snow, and suddenly there it is: a very ordinary cardboard box wedged into a hole in the rock.
Win laughs and throws a handful of snow up in the air, but Rose and I just sit and stare. The Box is a beautiful, terrifying sight. The jolly goldfish smiles at us. Carefully we dig around the edges until Mitch is able to slide it out. “It’s so light,” she says. “Are you sure there’s something in there?”
“If there’s not something in there now, there will be soon,” I say. I’ve been keeping a close watch on the Box, looking for any sign of glimmering letters. Rose and I only had to be near the Box for the words to appear, but right now it’s just a plain, brown cardboard box.
“I wish the lid wasn’t so loose,” I say. It looks dangerously flappy and we’ve got no tape or string to hold it down. Win and Mitch wouldn’t open it, but what if the words appear and we drop it, or it falls open by accident?
“Don’t worry about that,” says Rose. “Let’s get out of here. The snow is slowing down.”
I look up. Now there’s only a light dusting of snow falling and we’ve still got to walk through the forest and get back to the Alisha.
“Mitch, can you make any more?” I say.
She riffles through the amulets she’s strung around her neck, pulls out a bronze bottle, and shakes the contents onto a handful of snow. A few red drops fall like blood. “That’s all I’ve got left,” she says, then she blows it from her fingers straight into the sky. It whirls around and around, and more snow starts to fall, but it’s nothing like the storm she produced earlier.
Mitch wriggles back toward her hole in the ice. “You’d better be quick,” she says as she slips into the water. “I’ll get the boat and meet you at the shore!”
We leave the island and walk back across the frozen sea. Rose carries the Box in front of her as carefully as if it were a baby. We speed up when we get to the forest, desperate to reach the safety of the ship, following our footprints from earlier. Our breath mists the air. Like dragons, I think, wishing one of the dragons was with us now, protecting us and filling this frozen world with fire.
Rose comes to a sudden stop.
“What is it?” I say. We’re almost back at the shore. I can see the boat bobbing around. Mitch must be there, waiting for us.
Rose looks from left to right. “I thought I heard something.”
“Me too,” says Win. “It was just snow falling, wasn’t it?”
Rose shakes her head. “No, it sounded more like . . . feathers.”
“Stop it, Rose,” I say. “This place is creepy enough as it is. You’re imagining things.”
She nods, letting me pull her forward, her hands still wrapped around the Box.
But then something catches my eye. Sitting hunched in the branches of a tree is a figure. My heart seems to stop beating as a pale face grins down at me. “RUN!” I shout, but already Crowky is leaping from the tree. He glides to the ground, wings spread wide, and lands, blocking our path.
We spin around, ready to race back the way we’ve come, but we’ve only taken a few steps when we realize that something is happening to the trees. They’re trembling and moving.
“What’s going on?” I say as clumps of snow tumble to the ground. Then outstretched arms and stick fingers appear and heavy sack heads swing from side to side, scattering snow in all directions.
“It’s the scarecrow army!” yells Rose.
They’ve been waiting for us, hidden among the trees and disguised by the snow.
Crowky makes a clicking noise and the scarecrows start to step closer until they’ve formed a circle around us. Then they stand there, staring, their tattered clothes floating in the wind.
Crowky’s eyes are fixed on the Box.
“You’ve been here the whole time, haven’t you?” I say.
He nods and laughs. “Thank you for the snowstorm. It hid us beautifully.”
I shiver to think that we walked right through the pack of scarecrows, and the whole time Crowky was up in that tree watching us. But something doesn’t make sense. The bay is huge and so is the forest. How did Crowky know where to hide his army? Then I remember what happened on the deck of the Alisha: Crowky holding the map and then grabbing my face and turning it. He was showing me where to look!
“You knew where the Box was hidden,” I say.
“Not quite,” he admits. “I knew it was somewhere on the island, but I decided to let the Masters of Roar find it and bring it to me. After all, I need you for the next bit, don’t I?”
He whistles, then clicks. Several scarecrows break away from the others and move toward us. “No!” shouts Rose, and we squeeze even closer together as her arms wrap around the Box.
Win pulls out his wand. “Egg-tremble!” he shouts. “EGG-TREMBLE!” A flame leaps from his wand. It’s good, it really is, but the scarecrows simply jump to one side, avoiding it, then one of them snatches the wand from Win, snaps it, and tosses it to the ground.
Then they turn on us. A scarecrow in a tattered dress grabs Win by his cloak and another towers over me. Her twig fingers wrap around my shoulders and I’m wrenched away from the Box. Rose manages to fight them off for longer. She clings on to the Box, until two scarecrows pounce on her, grabbing hold of her hair and face. With a scream, she lets the Box fall into the snow.
A bellow of rage echoes from the shore. Mitch is pulling herself onto the ice. Her hands reach for a bottle around her neck. She crushes the glass in her bare hands and throws the whole lot up in the air, smacking it with her tail. A blast of wind races toward us, blowing snow from the trees and hitting us hard. But the scarecrows are too strong. They hold their ground, tightening their grip, while Crowky sends more of them after her.
“Get out of here!” Rose shouts to her friend. “Get back to the ship. Make a spell!”
Mitch hesitates. Her eyes dart from us to the scarecrows who are racing closer. At the last moment, she comes to a decision and dives back into the water, disappearing from sight.
Crowky turns and gazes at the Box with greedy eyes.
“Don’t touch it!” says Rose, but he ignores her and runs his twig fingers across the lid.
His wings tremble. Rose lurches forward and he looks up. “It’s mine now, Rose.” Then he laughs as if he can’t quite believe this is true.
He signals to the scarecrows holding us. They toss us down in the snow, then step back to join the others. As one, the scarecrows raise their arms and fall still. Snow dusts their drooping heads. They’ve formed a cage, and we’re trapped inside.
Suddenly Crowky gasps with delight. A glimmer of light has appeared on the side of the Box.
Everything seems to freeze: my breath, Crowky’s fingers, even the air around us. The ice groans and my chest squeezes tight with cold and fear. Rose, Win, and I huddle together as the golden letters form words.
What’s in the box . . .
The writing pauses. I feel weak at the knees, sick. Rose’s fingers find mine and for the first time in years we hold hands. The writing begins again with a large sweeping R.
I feel a rush of giddy relief. It’s not me. Crowky won’t get to Home, not yet anyway! He must realize this too because a flash of anger crosses his face.
Then a question mark gleams and the message is complete.
What’s in the box, Rose?
Rose’s fingers slip out of mine and my relief is replaced by guilt. Crowky cackles. “What’s in the box, Rose? Tell us!”
“I don’t know.” Her voice is tight with panic.
“Then let’s find out.”
“NO!” I shout, but already he’s opening the lid.
We stare at the Box as snow falls gently around us. Nothing happens. The golden words fade away, and I have this brilliant moment when I think, It’s stopped working! Nothing’s coming out!
Then we hear a soft, low growl. It echoes around the clearing. It slips between the trees. It floats on the air and creeps inside me, making the hairs on my neck prickle. The growl is coming from the Box.
A snout and then two gray ears appear. The top of a head follows, huge and thick with fur. It’s some sort of animal. Two yellow eyes peer out. They slide from left to right, then settle on Rose.
“It’s a wolf,” I say. But this doesn’t make any sense. Rose isn’t scared of wolves; in fact, they’re one of her favorite animals. She’s even got this sweatshirt she bought from a shop on the pier with a wolf’s face on it!
The wolf sniffs the air—eyes still on Rose—and a sly smile creeps across its face.
Rose laughs nervously. “That’s not my fear. Look at it. It’s beautiful!”
The wolf leaps effortlessly from the Box and drops down in the snow. It pauses, then pads toward Rose. It stops in front of her, its head hanging from gigantic shoulders. “Hello,” she says, reaching out a hand.
The wolf wrinkles its nose, curls its lips over sharp teeth, and snarls. Saliva flies into the air and Rose shrinks back. Crowky is watching this with a look of delight. His hands are clenched and his wings are open and beating the air.
“Ignore it, Rose.” I grab her arm. “Look at me. Pretend it isn’t here!”
“It’s hard, Arthur. It’s big!”
The wolf stretches its head back and howls into the sky. Rose huddles between me and Win. “It’s just one wolf, Rose,” I say. “You’ve tamed dragons. I bet you could tame a wolf too!”
Then Win says, “Something else is coming out.”
It’s another wolf, only this one is almost white, and its eyes are pale gray. It jumps from the Box and trots straight toward Rose. As the growling begins again, another shaggy head appears. How many are there? This one is the biggest so far and it’s scrabbling at the cardboard. It leaps through the air and dashes toward Rose. Then two more jump out, followed by another. Now there are six wolves—a pack.
They start to circle us, mouths gaping, saliva dripping onto the snow. “I don’t think these wolves want to be tamed,” says Rose, her voice shaky.
She’s right. They look like they want to attack.
“Look,” says Rose, “there’s something else.”
Another pair of ears has poked out of the Box, but they don’t belong to a wolf; at least, not anymore. They’re part of a hat. A face appears, then hands encased in leather gloves grab the side of the Box.
“It’s a girl!” says Win as she clambers out and jumps into the snow. If he thinks this will reassure Rose, he’s wrong. The sight of her makes Rose shrink even closer to us.
