Chapter 28
“Oh my word,” Nory repeated robotically as they sat around an old dining table sketching on a piece of butcher’s paper. She had believed every word about the soulings, convinced in her heart even with the flimsiest of evidence.
“This is our gateway symbol and we know it has something to do with access. Let’s think again,” continued Mr Johnson. “There’s a circle with arrows around the outside and three circles inside a triangle on the inside.”
“What if it’s an arrangement of things. Maybe the three of us could be the points of the triangle. We can put our soulings in the centre,” said Ashden.
“Worth a try,” Mr Johnson said, looking up. “But Ashden, I don’t have a souling anymore.”
“Could you use Edward?” Ashden suggested.
“Oh my word,” said Nory, dabbing at her lip.
Mr Johnson’s eyes fell hungrily on the bear. “What do you say, Nory?”
She nodded, uncertainly.
“Do you think we have to go back to the fig to try it?” asked Ashden.
“Probably.”
“Do you mean the fig tree in my garden?” asked Nory.
“You’ve got a fig?” They both stared at her.
“Oh yes, she’s a big one too, love. Elanora planted that seed there herself when I was born. She said that fig had a mother as special as mine.”
Ashden beamed. “I say we give it a go. We’ve got nothing to lose by trying.”
Mr Johnson grabbed the souling from the chair. “Lead the way, good woman,” he said, slipping a wad of envelopes into his case, unnoticed.
As they walked down Nory’s pot holed driveway, the wind was still weaving about trying to bind everything up in knots. Ashden looked about apprehensively, remembering the animal that had threatened him on his last visit to Wallsend Lane. He couldn’t have heard their growl with the wind whipping as it did, which made him all the more nervous.
Nory’s fig was smaller than its parent yet it towered over two backyards. The trunk was less abstract and didn’t drip down at irregular places along its boughs. That was the difference between a fig planted in the ground and one germinated atop a host. One stretched its way up, the other strangled its way down.
The leaves flipped in the wind, slapping against each other making it difficult to hear. It was dark under the canopy and cool. The three of them gravitated to the same spot among the roots to stand. A hush descended as they placed their soulings in the centre.
“Shall we hold hands?” Nory suggested. Nory wished she had one hand free to dab the tears from her eyes. Instead, they trickled down her face. She sniffed and blinked them away, her face to the tree top as they took their first step around an imaginary circle.
“Wait! Don’t we need three soulings in the middle?” asked Ashden.
Suddenly the wind blew a full bodied gust under the fig bringing with it a monstrous dog that barged into their formation, clamping its brutish jaws around Edward Arthur Jameson. Nory screamed, Mr Johnson grabbed Eskatoria and Ashden stared wildly about, momentarily paralysed. The scene played before him like a movie and he was sucked into the part of actor. He sprinted after the beast, legs pumping like a celluloid athlete.
Down the driveway, leaping pot holes, swerving dumpsters, chasing the beast until it jumped onto a dangling shop awning, balanced carefully, then leapt into the top window. He ran inside through the downstairs door and took the rickety stairs three at a time, his legs a blur until the beast confronted him on the landing. White foam from its gaping mouth coated Edward Arthur and dripped onto the floorboards.
Ashden clenched his fists and sought out a makeshift weapon. The dog growled so loudly even the thick cloth body of the bear in its mouth couldn’t dull it. He noticed the banister railings at odd angles in their frame and yanked hard with both hands pulling one free. The animal took a step back. While fixing its eyes on Ashden, it let the bear drop to the floor. Now its jaws were ready for a new catch. Ashden swung the railing at its head. The beast shied sideways, set its shoulders and stalked closer. Ashden raised the bar like a spear this time, visualising the target, just under the jaws.
All at once the steps behind him rattled violently and Nory appeared red faced and panting. The dog lunged at Ashden while his attention was diverted and bit into his arm. Nory advanced and kicked the beast with her sensible shoes but it lashed out, grazing her shin with its teeth. Its head thrashed between the two of them, snapping and foaming until it had them backed against the wall. Ashden held the railing, hoping for one last opportunity to swing.
In a final frenzied attack, the dog jumped its front paws up, one on each of them barking hysterically in their faces, teeth bared and saliva slopping, confused as to who to kill first. Ashden thrust the railing at the beast’s ribcage. It didn’t penetrate but was enough to pitch it to the ground. It thrashed about trying to reach the bear over by the landing. Ashden swung again and belted its rump. Half the dog bent grimly sideways but didn’t retaliate. Its muzzle was down; searching.
Nory shouted at the beast and kicked again. Ashden advanced to inflict another blow when he stopped.
“Edward’s gone!” he shouted to Nory. Having come to the same conclusion, the beast bounded past them to the broken window and leapt out onto the awning. They watched it speed away into the bushes beside her shop. Nory and Ashden started their own search, certain that the bear must be in the room somewhere.
Under the fig, the impact of heavy paws on Mr Johnson’s back flattened him to the ground, knocking the wind right out of him. He couldn’t see his assailant but it dug under him with sharp nailed paws to reach Eski, growling, salivating. Mr Johnson lay there choking on his own inhalations.
Where the blazes have you been? Sobbing mother, father stands off deep set in scowl. What do you mean, only been a minute?... The Timefold had failed to return him on time... So no kidnapping, no nothing you just left? Four years gone. Your sister’s a year dead, fell down the stairs, where were you? You push her? Drunken father bawling through soul beast teeth and fists balled for attack. Mother shields her remaining child, bewildered child, cut to the heart by grief. Why didn’t I take her? Why didn’t I go back? ...Bestial rage, father pours spirits down, beaten mother flees with grieving child who stops to see. To watch the roots binding his father’s neck. I promise I’ll get you back, Sylvie, I’ll get you back. I’m sorry. I love you precious sister, goodbye four years late, I didn’t know, but hold fast. When my courage returns I will save you through time. I will go back to save you...
The beasts demand payment and their payment is harsh. Life for life…
But it doesn’t have to be that way. Help me now to do what is right.
The fig tree sent its liquefied limbs pouring around him. It nestled him in a wooden cradle that hugged his form. His stomach lurched and air rushed into his lungs, forced in by his fast descent.
Mr Johnson lifted his head dreamily and blinked till the last smudge was gone. He breathed deeply and tried unsuccessfully to push his fingers into the lush walls that lit up caramel around him. He frowned. With narrowed eyes he scanned the tunnel ahead. It had been fifty three years since his last venture and he hadn’t forgotten he was under threat of death never to return without fulfilling his vow, the vow he had bungled.
He was interrupted from his thoughts when Ashden and Edward Arthur tumbled on top of him. The two young men rolled apart and stared at each other. Their staring turned to laughter and they staggered to their feet.
“Mr Johnson, I presume!”
“That’s Will to you, young man!”
“Not Bill?”
“Bill? Not likely, that’s an old man’s name.”
“You might want to rethink the wardrobe then, if you’re trying to lose the ‘old man’ tag,” Ashden said, shaking free the corner of Will’s brown striped shirt until it dangled over his plaid trousers.
Will looked down and smiled. He tucked his shirt back in then ran a hand over his head.
“I gotta say, I like what you’ve done with your hair,” said Ashden
“What about you? Looks like you’ve actually got some hair!” Will retorted with a raised eyebrow. They both laughed, but it petered out quickly.
“So Ash, what happened to Nory?” Will asked as Ashden picked up Edward Arthur, sodden with dog drool.
“She’s back there. She can’t get through the gateway but I told her to wait close by.” He wiped the bear on his pants.
“How did you get Edward back?”
“The dog dropped him during the fight and when it went back, it couldn’t find him so it ran off. A couple of rats had dragged Edward off when they saw the danger. Once they knew we were safe they dragged him back out to us.”
“The beast didn’t follow you to the gateway, did it?”
Ashden shook his head. “Where’s Eski?” he asked.
“Right here, somewhere.” Will circled around to find her.
“Ssh, listen. Can you hear her hum?”
Will nodded, but he couldn’t.
“Here she is.” Ashden found Eski face down a short distance off. Satisfied by a brief scan of her eyes, he wedged her into his back pocket and handed Edward over to Will.
“So seriously, how does it feel to be back in the Timefold? You’ve really struck the fountain of youth, haven’t you?”
“It feels a heck of a lot better than being an old codger, that’s for certain. But it’ll take a bit of getting used to, I should think.” He held his hands out, examining his supple skin. “Yes, it’s great to be back. What about you?”
“Well I almost killed my first beast as a wimpy fifteen year old, just imagine what I can do now!” He let his eyes travel to the comfort of the walls and relaxed his focus, happy to hear his voice settle into its deeper pitch. An image of Elanora formed in his mind and he allowed himself to remember her spirit before turning to Will busy pressing his fingers against the wall. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing,” said Will and withdrew them.
“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s do what we came here to do. We’re not getting any younger, you know,” Ashden said.
“Speak for yourself!” Will retorted and slapped his thigh. The pills rattled under the jolt. He smiled at how relaxed he felt already. He wouldn’t need a pill, he was sure. Just one drink from the blue lake.
“Got any ideas how we’ll find our chambers?” Ashden asked.
“Not a clue,” said Will.
While they walked, Will’s fingertips still felt the pressure of cold steel from where they had touched wall. Why had it refused to give under his touch? he wondered. Why so cold?