“What happened?” Col asked again. “Where’s Connie?”
“We hoped you three could tell us,” said Eagle-Child, pulling Col up and guiding him to a seat nearer the fire. “We really need to know everything you saw.”
Col dredged back in his memory to the last thing he could remember. He had sat for what seemed like hours with Mack and Evelyn, waiting for the Trustees to return from their trance. It had been weird watching their bodies, all perfectly still with the exception of Connie’s. Her face had been screwed up in concentration, and Col could read the conflicting stream of emotions passing across it: laughter, anger, fear, and then…
“I remember seeing Connie’s eyes open all of a sudden,” said Col. “I thought she had ended the encounter, but then I realized she didn’t seem to be herself.” The scene was replaying before his mind like a slow-motion film. “It was like she was asleep or something. Evelyn got up to check that she was okay, but next thing we knew, Connie was all wrapped up in a kind of dark mist—it seemed to be coming from inside her somehow—pouring out of her skin. She began to spin, at first slowly but getting faster and faster. Evelyn tried to grab her arm, but Connie pushed her away. It was like Evelyn weighed as little as a doll—she flew through the air and smashed against the rocks. Dad and I also tried to reach Connie, and I suppose the same thing happened to us.”
“Yes,” said Eagle-Child. “You were all thrown against the wall.”
The realization that something dreadful had happened in the encounter hit Col as hard as his earlier collision with the rock face. “What did you do to her?
“The weather giant touched the mark. Kullervo broke through,” Eagle-Child replied, his dark eyes smoldering with anger.
Satisfied that Mack was not seriously injured, Kinga came over to Col. “From what Mack’s saying, it appears that Kullervo has been waiting to seize Connie the moment he was able to break through inside.” She paused, struggling with the burden of responsibility this news thrust on her. She took a deep breath. “It is time. The moment we all feared has arrived: the universal is under his sway.”
“Summon the Society!” growled Morjik, flexing his wings in preparation for take-off.
“Yes!” said Kira, who had finished tying a sling around Evelyn’s left arm. “We’ll need everyone who is close enough to help us.”
“Do you have an emergency procedure?” Kinga asked Evelyn urgently.
“Of course,” Evelyn nodded. Her face was white, but her jaw was set against the pain of her broken arm. Digging awkwardly inside her jacket, she pulled out her phone. Catching on fast, Col got out his own. They had rehearsed this many times before. “Col, you start with Dr. Brock—he’s got the cascade list. I’ll phone the Mastersons—they’re closest.”
Col selected the doctor’s number from his directory. In a quiet house in Hescombe, a phone was now ringing in the dark, shattering its sleepy peace.
“Yes?” The doctor sounded alert, despite having been awoken.
Kinga took the phone from Col. “Francis, we’ve lost Connie to Kullervo. Get everyone to the headland.”
Col heard the tinny voice of the doctor replying: “I’ll set the emergency callout in progress and come right away.”
The alarm raised, Col wondered what they would do next. Where was Connie now? The wind was mounting. The trees above the dell creaked. Flocks of dead leaves scurried around their feet. There was a sharp crack like a whip, followed by a crash. A tree toppled from the top of the rock face and tumbled into the valley, showering the onlookers with twigs. Something leapt over the fallen trunk: it was the minotaur, charging back to them from his lookout post on the hilltop.
“They are heading toward the white towers,” he bellowed. “Come!”
“No!” said Kinga, placing a hand on Sentinel’s shoulder to stop him from leaving so quickly. “We must not rush in like this. We need to understand. We need a plan.” She turned to Col. “Tell us what’s happening to Connie. You’re the only one who knows.”
Col shook his head. “If it’s anything like what happened to me then she’ll be in there somewhere, hiding from him. But her bond with him is so much more powerful than anything I experienced….”
“She saved you with the helm?”
“Yes—but that’s a universal’s tool. I don’t think we can do that for her.”
“But the other times,” Kinga persisted, “when Connie raised the storms, the bond was broken by an encounter with another?”
Col nodded.
“But you were already bonded with her when Kullervo broke through,” Evelyn said in anguished tones. “It didn’t stop him this time.”
“Does anyone have any better suggestions?” Kinga asked, looking to her fellow Trustees. They shook their heads. “Then we must try to reach her this way. If one of our creatures can get through, we might be able to save her—and us—before it’s too late. If that fails, we’ll have to stop her by force. We’ll be doing her no favors if we let her live in the power of that evil creature.”
Col choked—it sounded as if they were prepared to sacrifice his friend to stop Kullervo. “But what about Connie?”
“We have no choice,” said Eagle-Child firmly, standing at Kinga’s shoulder. “The universal would say the same if she were here.”
Evelyn hung her head.
Mack glowered at the Trustees. “You’d better save her then, or there’ll be hell to pay.”
“No more talking,” growled Morjik, a flicker of flame curling from his jaws. “Let us begin!”
The decision made, the Trustees followed swiftly on Sentinel’s tail. Mack helped Evelyn hobble up the path.
“Here, Coddrington.” He grunted at the companion to weather giants who was lagging behind the others. “Do something useful for once and give me a hand.” Without a murmur, Mr. Coddrington helped carry Evelyn out of the dell.
When they reached the top of the slope, Col realized how sheltered they had been down there. The wind was blowing so hard that he had difficulty remaining on his feet. Sea spray flew inland from the waves crashing on the rocks below, stinging Col’s eyes. A waning moon hovered on the horizon, dipping in and out from behind fast-moving clouds.
The night was almost over, but the storm was only just beginning.
Col took the silver whistle that all companions to pegasi wore on a chain around their necks and blew on it three times. He hoped that the sound would carry to Skylark above the roar of the wind. Without his companion creature, he could do nothing to help. Kinga was already mounting Morjik and preparing to take off. Kira galloped away on the back of Windfoal, the unicorn’s mane streaming in the gale. Eagle-Child sprinted after them, Storm-Bird gliding on the winds overhead, the edges of its wings glistening with white light.
“Where’s your companion?” Mack asked Mr. Coddrington roughly. “If there was ever a time when we could use a weather giant, it’s now.”
“He’s gone,” Mr. Coddrington gasped. “I don’t know what’s become of him, or why he did what he did.”
“Mack,” said Evelyn, slumping against the Trustee. “Get going. He can help me from here. You’re needed at sea. Save Connie for me.”
Mack released his hold on her and gave her a swift kiss. “Go back to Hugh’s. I’ll see you there. Come on, Col.”
Leaving Evelyn swaying in Mr. Coddrington’s arms, father and son ran up to the headland, Mack pulling Col along against the wind. Col felt at times that they were running only to stand still, so strong was the force directed against them. Reaching the crest of the hill, they now had a view across to the wind farm only a field away. Col felt his father’s grip increase on his forearm, this time not against the gale but in horrified wonder at the prospect before them. The eight newly completed masts were spinning like children’s windmills on a sandcastle, so fast that the vanes were blurred. Winding in and out of the turbines was the thin spiraling funnel of a tornado, blue-black against the dark skies flickering with silver fire. Half-glimpsed at the pinnacle of the
pillar of wind, twisting in a pirouette like a demented ballerina, was the tiny figure of Connie, arms outstretched, surrendering her body to the force sustaining her.
Col watched as first Morjik and then Storm-Bird threw themselves toward Connie, but each time the wind spun them off, sending them skidding across the skies. Kira and Windfoal had been blown over and were now rolling down the slope toward the cottages. Sentinel and Eagle-Child were both clinging to the same turbine in an attempt to remain on their feet. More Society members were appearing from all sides. Mr. Masterson, astride the giant boar with gilded tusks, charged up the hill, closely followed by Rat on Icefen. The twister flicked in their direction, spinning the creatures up into the air and unceremoniously dumping them on a pile of earth left by the builders, their riders half-buried beneath them. Tiles from the cottage roofs showered around them, smashing into thousands of shards. Dr. Brock and Argot swooped in from the east, only to be knocked back. Argot collided with one of the masts and tumbled to the earth, Dr. Brock clinging on desperately by his fingertips. When they hit the ground, neither of them moved.
Col started to sprint toward them, but pulled up, stopped by a familiar presence close at hand. He turned to see Skylark make an ungainly landing some feet away, the white feathers of his wings ruffling the wrong way in the wind, mane and tail whipping furiously. Overhead Col heard the swoosh of the chestnut stallion: Firewings, with Captain Graves on his back, going to the rescue of the dragon and his companion. Mack released his son’s arm.
“Off you go, Col!” he shouted, pushing him toward Skylark. “I’m going to find the Kraken.” Mack staggered down the hill, heading for the cove.
Col threw his arms around Skylark’s neck and was greeted by a burst of the creature’s electrifying presence.
“This is it!” he shouted to his mount. “I’d hoped this would never happen.”
But it has, Companion, said Skylark. Let’s do what we can for Connie.
The tornado was now spinning away from the wind farm and out to sea, trees bending aside like blades of grass as it passed.
We must fly high! Col told Skylark. Everyone who’s tried to reach her has been thrown off. Let’s try dropping down to her.
Skylark galloped in pursuit of the twister. The funnel of wind teetered on the edge of the cliff for a moment, then passed over to hit the surface of the sea, sucking water up like a giant straw. As the pegasus followed, the ground gave way beneath his hooves, leaving him striding for a moment in midair. He plummeted downward. With a quick downbeat of his wings, Skylark regained control. A large chunk of cliff slid down to hit the water, sending a shockwave rippling out to sea, clashing against the incoming rollers with furious energy.
Skylark was still managing to climb, despite being thrown this way and that by the gusting wind. They had reached a height where Col could look down into the funnel. Connie was still spinning, her head flopped forward and hair flying out over her face.
“Connie!” he screamed uselessly, as there was no way she would hear him over the roar of the storm. But it seemed that something else heard him: the blue-black spiral elongated, rising to swallow up the horse and rider.
“Evade!” yelled Col.
Skylark dove to the right. The teetering funnel caught him by the back legs and sent him spinning out of control. The world whirled past. Col clung on as they hurtled back to land. The pegasus, with a Herculean effort, managed to slow his tumble. They landed heavily on the sand of the little cove, Col thrown head first over his mount’s neck. Col put a hand to his head. His vision had become blurred. Rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he scrambled up onto Skylark’s back and looked out to sea. He could see a tiny black figure in the grip of one of the Kraken’s tentacles heading out to the twister. The storm itself now seemed to have stopped moving and was gathering in size, swelling as it sucked up more and more water.
Kullervo’s making a tidal wave, said Skylark. We must warn the others. He began to trot unsteadily up the path, hooves lagging with exhaustion, heading back to the cottages. Lights were blazing, and there was a small crowd of people staring dumbstruck in his direction. Too tired to care, Col and Skylark pressed on. Even to Col’s numbed brain it was clear what had happened: a storm of this magnitude could not be kept from non-Society members. The mythical creatures had been exposed.
Power. Terror. Strength. Kullervo’s companion crowed with triumph as she batted away so easily the creatures trying to attack her. But they were persistent: more and more kept coming to annoy her like mosquitoes whining in her ear and spoiling her beautiful storm.
Kill them! said a voice in her head.
Kullervo’s companion sent the boy and his horse spinning out of control.
Why did you not kill them? asked the voice angrily. Are we not here to stamp out our enemies?
Kullervo’s companion laughed wildly. I’m not yours to command. You are my companion: I am yours. I don’t want to kill them. I want to make the seas leap and the winds do what we will.
Then make the elements dance to our tune! cried Kullervo, twisting her farther out to sea. Pour my power out upon the waves, draw them up to you and send them onto the land.
The girl cupped her hands like a potter molding clay, forming the water into an immense vessel to contain Kullervo’s hatred of the human world. It rose up around them, glittering with red-stained foam in the light of the rising sun.
Good! Good! he cried. And this is only the beginning. See the pleasure we can give each other in our companionship! We can remold the earth as we wish.
Suddenly, a black tentacle snaked up through the eye of the storm and seized Connie by the waist. It ripped her from the wind’s embrace.
“No!” shrieked Kullervo.
The Kraken pulled Connie down the tunnel of wind and plunged her into the sea. The connection broken, the tornado spun out of control, shedding the water it had gathered in a drenching spray.
“Where is my companion?” roared Kullervo.
Connie woke with a start as she hit the water, taking a choking mouthful as she was dragged under. Where was she? Struggling against the creature holding her down, she made panicked kicks to get free. It released her and she broke the surface, gasping for air, only to find the storm-tossed waves dousing her in more water.
“Help!” she screamed.
Someone dove into the water by her side and emerged quickly to take her arm.
“Connie—don’t panic. You’ll be all right!” said Mack. He kicked toward the shore, fighting the waves.
But things were not going to be all right: out of the sky above them a dark ribbon of wind unfurled from the twister. Connie screamed with terror as she was scooped from the waves and enveloped once more in Kullervo’s storm. With no time to raise her shield, she was reclaimed by Kullervo’s hold, reconnecting with the part of her that was his companion, driving Connie back into unconsciousness.
We shall never be parted! Kullervo told her. Those that try to come between us shall be punished. He dropped the remaining waters they had gathered onto the sea, seeking to crush the Kraken and its audacious companion. The weight of water drove the creature deep, Mack clutched in one tentacle. Ha! Kullervo gloated. They will not come back for more.
No, Companion, said the girl, her brief rebellion against his presence snuffed out. She smiled. Now, where were we?
17
Exposure
Col slid wearily off Skylark’s back and ran into the now roofless cottage. Hugh Lionheart’s kitchen had been turned into an emergency room, filled with injured people and smaller creatures. Hugh was presiding over the arrangements, looking dazed by what the storm had done to his house and the influx of mythical beings, but still managing to deal competently with the obvious needs before him. Eagle-Child came in carrying a wood sprite with a shattered leg. Col quickly told him about the tidal wave.
Eagle-Child nodded. “Come. The Trustees are meeting next door to regroup. Let us bring them your news.”
In the Ratcliff k
itchen, Col found many more casualties requiring attention. Mrs. Ratcliff, uncharacteristically silent—as even she could find nothing to say in the face of the extraordinary scene before her—was tending a nasty cut on Mr. Masterson’s forehead. Mr. Ratcliff had taken refuge in a bottle of whisky. He was slumped in a corner, arms around the Alsatian, singing to himself. By the fireplace, Captain Graves was bandaging Dr. Brock’s wrist. Many other Society members were gathered around the table in fierce debate. Noticing the new arrivals, Gard stamped over to Col and thumped him on the back.
“That was a brave attempt, Col,” he said.
“Yeah, pretty cool,” added Rat. “Shame it didn’t work.”
“No, Kinga!” The room fell silent as Evelyn’s voice rang out. “Not yet! She might still escape! Don’t send in the dragons, please!”
Kinga, standing beside Evelyn at the sink, put her head in her hands briefly, but then looked up, her expression resolute.
“What choice do we have? We can’t stop Kullervo. Connie is the only weak point. Either we take her out by force and save humanity from annihilation, or leave her with him and we all die, Connie included. The dragons will try to save her—if they can.”
Rat took a sharp breath.
“But what evidence do we have that she’s allowing him to put his plans into action?” protested Evelyn. “So far no one’s been badly injured. She’s only been playing with us.”
“I think the playing is about to end,” said Eagle-Child moving forward. “Col has just told me that Kullervo and the universal are creating a tidal wave.”
Col felt absolutely gutted—with his news he had unwittingly signed Connie’s death warrant! It couldn’t be!
Kinga turned back to Evelyn. “Do you need any more convincing? Connie would not wish you to allow this to happen in her name, would she?”