Morghul fixed his blank eyes on Ratty, advancing slowly.
‘Now!’ Tanya hissed, giving Ratty a hard push.
Ratty stood up unsteadily, his knees shaking as he approached the side of the cage. ‘It’s time for you to go, Morghul,’ he said. His voice was quiet and nervous. ‘You don’t belong here any more.’
Morghul threw back his head and laughed. Even since the defeat of Solomon, just moments ago, his features had become more defined. His eyes, still black, were now more human and glistened with life in place of the dead, empty pits that had been there before. ‘I do belong,’ he said in a deep, throaty voice. ‘I belong with you. You made me. And, from you, my strength grows and grows.’
‘You’re not welcome or wanted any more,’ said Ratty. ‘You became something else, something wrong. And now I’m going to unmake you.’
‘And how do you think you’ll do that?’ Morghul mocked. ‘You’re not strong enough. Even Solomon wasn’t powerful enough, with all his magic!’
‘Because Solomon never created you,’ said Ratty. ‘I did. You only exist because of me.’
‘And yet you’re still not strong enough to defeat me.’
‘Maybe not alone,’ said Ratty. ‘But you’re forgetting something.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘That if I made you I can make others, too. And I did.’
‘You lie,’ said Morghul, but doubt had crept into his voice.
Ratty squared his shoulders, standing a little taller. ‘No, I don’t. See for yourself.’ He pointed to the cellar floor in front of him. Morghul looked down.
Behind Ratty, Tanya watched as the brownie, hidden from sight in his jar, began moving his hands in a furious working of magic. At the centre of his palms a tiny, golden ball glowed like a furnace and a beam of light fell before Ratty, creating a long, dark shadow on the stone floor. Yet, as Ratty stood unmoving, the shadow did not. It folded its arms and, before their eyes, began to change shape so that it did not resemble Ratty, but something else entirely. The hair grew wilder and stood away from the head in fierce tufts, and two pointed horns protruded either side of the head. Behind it, a cat-like tail swished aggressively.
‘No,’ said Morghul. ‘It’s not possible!’
‘Of course it’s possible,’ said Ratty. He folded his arms, looking bolder by the second. ‘I created you when I was only small.’ His voice was scornful now. ‘But now I’m capable of so much more. I made something else. Someone else. Another friend.’
At his words, Morghul’s eyes lost their glistening appearance and took on a dull, empty look once more. Tanya peered closer. Was it her imagination or was he shrinking a little, too?
‘It’s working!’ Don whispered beside her. ‘He’s starting to lose his form. Don’t stop!’
‘I made something bigger, stronger,’ Ratty continued. ‘Something that will crush you.’
The shadow on the floor began to pace, like a cat stalking its prey.
Morghul’s clothes became a little larger, a little looser. ‘You can’t crush me,’ he said, but his voice betrayed him. It was less clear, as though he were having to try harder to form the words.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tanya sneaked a look at the cellar steps. There, in the beam of light from above, Turpin pulled herself up to her full height, pacing from side to side and flicking her tail, watching as her shadow was magically projected before Ratty.
‘Surely you can see how powerful it is already,’ said Ratty. ‘Even as a shadow, it has its own form. You never did. Your shadow was just a copy of me.’
The rotting skin on Morghul’s face faded, and the skin began to take on the texture of lumpy porridge once more. In the jar, the brownie moved his hands apart and the ball of light split in two. At the same time, Ratty’s shadow moved away from the cage, separating from him.
‘I suggest you leave now,’ said Ratty. ‘My new friend is hungry.’
Turpin began stamping her feet on the steps, like a bull about to charge. The shadow between Ratty and Morghul did the same. Morghul shrank further still.
‘Keep going, Ratty,’ Tanya whispered. ‘You’re winning! Soon he’ll be nothing!’
The shadow moved towards Morghul, forcing him to step back. He glanced about nervously, as if looking for a weapon, or a place to hide . . . and then his gaze rested on the cellar steps as he caught sight of Turpin. The fairy saw him and tried to leap into the shadows, but too late. Recognition flared across his face and he began to smile once more.
‘A trick,’ he said, his voice deep and dark as treacle. ‘Just a feeble illusion! You can’t defeat me. With every second I grow more powerful.’
‘No,’ whispered Ratty, backing into the cage. ‘Stay away . . .’
Morghul advanced, grinning. His skin rippled, starting to take shape once more as Ratty’s fear grew.
‘Don’t let him win, Ratty!’ Tanya yelled. ‘You were doing it! You were defeating him!’
‘But now he knows,’ Ratty moaned.
‘It doesn’t matter!’ Don urged. ‘It wasn’t the trick that did it, it was the trick that made you believe you could do it, don’t you see?’
But Ratty didn’t see, for he backed away as Morghul approached the cage, swelling and growing with every step. He reached through the bars, grabbing Ratty by the arm.
‘You’re mine again now,’ he chuckled. ‘Mine to feed off. Mine to grow from. And soon I won’t need you at all.’
‘No!’ The shout came from above. Turpin hurtled down the cellar steps, charging at her enemy. ‘You can’t have Ratty! You won’t! Turpin won’t let you!’ She flung herself at Morghul’s face, lashing out, biting and shrieking. With a growl, Oberon joined her, snapping at his legs.
Tanya grabbed Ratty from behind, pulling him in the opposite direction. Don joined her, tugging him hard.
‘Fight!’ Tanya yelled. ‘You have to fight!’
Morghul released a howl of rage as his grip was broken. Tanya and Ratty landed in a heap beside Don, panting as the fight outside continued. Turpin clawed like a wildcat, but even with Oberon’s help she was no match for Morghul.
One of Morghul’s great legs kicked out, striking Oberon and flinging him away. He landed with a yelp, but struggled to his feet once more.
‘Oberon!’ Tanya yelled. She scrambled to the cage door. A piercing scream stopped her. Morghul had snatched Turpin in one of his enormous fists and was crushing her, squeezing the life out of her.
‘Let her go!’ Ratty yelled.
Morghul obeyed with a cruel smile. He threw Turpin aside with great force. Her little body flew across the cellar, smashing into the side of the cauldron then sprawling across the floor, unmoving.
‘No!’ Ratty yelled. He pushed past Tanya and ran out of the cage, collapsing at Turpin’s side. He lifted her in his arms, hugging her to him, but Tanya could see that her body was lifeless. ‘She’s not breathing,’ he choked. ‘You killed her.’ His head snapped up and his eyes filled with rage. ‘You killed her!’
Morghul watched him, gloating. Tanya stumbled out of the cage and went to Oberon, hugging him to her with tears streaming down her cheeks. Turpin? Dead? She couldn’t be. But as she looked at the tiny, broken body in Ratty’s arms she knew it was true.
Ratty lowered Turpin gently to the floor once more, then slowly stood up. His hands balled into fists at his sides. Don ran to his aid, pushing Ratty behind him to shield him from Morghul. But Ratty stepped round him.
‘No, Pa,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘You can’t help me with this. No one can.’ He took a step towards Morghul, his face flushed. ‘Turpin was a true friend to me,’ he said. ‘But you?’ His voice trembled, only this time it was not with fear, but rage. ‘You’re nothing. Only a figment, a nightmare, a thought.’
Morghul growled, his gruesome face rippling at Ratty’s words. He took a step towards Ratty, but Ratty held firm.
‘You’re nothing,’ Ratty repeated. ‘And it’s time for you to go back to where you came
from.’
A low groan rumbled from Morghul’s throat. Tanya watched in horror as his face and hands began to run like melted wax, dripping on to the floor. Ratty took another step forward.
‘You’re nothing,’ he said again. ‘Just a shadow.’
Morghul howled something, but his words were lost and shapeless. His clothes began to rumple as his body shrank. They sank into the pooling mass at his feet.
‘You’re nothing, nothing, nothing.’
Morghul was now only the same size as Ratty and shrinking faster than ever. He reached out a dripping hand, as if pleading, but Ratty simply stared, his face stony and grim. The hand was lowered into the pile of clothes, blistering and bubbling on the floor. By the time Morghul’s face reached it, it was little more than a clay-like lump, spreading and gurgling into the melting mass until finally it was silent. The grisly pile darkened like a stain, then slowly, slowly, stretched out before Ratty into a long, thin shadow. Ratty took one last step forward and the shadow bled into his own.
‘Just a shadow,’ Ratty whispered. ‘Gone.’ He turned away, his eyes blurred with tears, and knelt by Turpin’s body, cradling her in his arms. He bent his head, sobbing silently into her hair.
Don emerged from the cage, his own blue eyes, so like Ratty’s, full of sadness.
‘Come on, son,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s over. We have to leave this place.’
Ratty didn’t answer. The only sound in the silence was that of the cauldron, still bubbling gently.
‘Wait,’ said Tanya. She stared at the cauldron, then at the dress, still hanging from the beam. She wiped the tears from her face. ‘Solomon had the spell all set up. He was trying to get Morghul into the cauldron as a sacrifice . . . a life for a life, he said. But . . .’
‘But he fell into the cauldron himself,’ Don finished. ‘Someone can still be brought back.’
‘But you said it was wrong, Pa,’ said Ratty. ‘Messing around with life and death. You said it shouldn’t be meddled with.’
‘Turpin shouldn’t have died like this,’ Don said. ‘And it’s not like any of us know how to repeat the spell. It would just be once. Just this once, to right a wrong.’
Ratty stood up, sniffing. He looked down at Turpin in his arms. ‘A life for a life,’ he said, lowering her into the frothing liquid.
Tanya pressed her hand to her mouth as Turpin’s little body was swallowed into the cauldron. No sooner had it vanished than the liquid stopped bubbling and fell still and silent. They watched and waited, yet nothing happened.
‘It hasn’t worked,’ said Ratty. His eyes filled with fresh tears and he wiped them away angrily. ‘Solomon was wrong.’
‘No,’ said Don. ‘Look!’
A faint ripple moved across the dark mixture. It was followed by a stream of bubbles, and then a spluttering figure broke the surface, covered from head to foot in brown goo.
‘Yikes!’ Turpin exclaimed in disgust. ‘What is this stuff? It’s stinkier than a hobgoblin’s sock!’
‘Turpin!’ Ratty yelled. ‘You’re alive!’ He swept her into his arms, covering himself in the cauldron’s contents. Delighted laughter burst out of him.
‘Well, of course she is, silly boy,’ said Turpin. She nuzzled his neck, looking confused but happy all the same.
‘And now it really is time to leave,’ said Don, looking around at the cellar with a shiver.
Tanya nodded at the brownie. ‘Thank you,’ she told him. In response, he glared at her while unleashing an angry stream of Cornish words that none of them understood. Once finished, he kicked the jar that had imprisoned him and vanished, leaving nothing but a bad smell behind him.
Wearily, they climbed the steps and left the cellar. As they reached the door, something swooped past them on the way out: a large, silver moth. It streaked into London’s night sky, silhouetted against the moon and a trail of blazing stars.
Don stared up at them, his blue eyes reflecting every twinkle. ‘Typical,’ he muttered. ‘Just typical!’
Tanya smiled faintly and reached into her rucksack for the two twigs from the Wishing Tree. ‘Is everybody ready?’ she asked softly.
Three exhausted faces, plus Oberon’s brown, hairy one, stared back at her wordlessly. Without further ado, Tanya snapped the two twigs into four.
25
Promises
THEY ARRIVED BACK IN THE SILENT, sleeping cottage. Nothing had changed; Mrs Fairchild and the fairies were still held in slumber like they were playing a game of musical statues.
‘So, these are your fairies,’ Ratty said quietly, after Tanya explained what had happened.
Tanya nodded glumly. ‘They don’t always look like this, though. They’re using glamour.’ She sighed. ‘Now I’m really going to be in trouble when they wake up.’
‘They won’t know you put the snoozes on them,’ said Turpin. She climbed up Feathercap’s coat and twanged his moustache curiously. ‘The Sleep of the Dead is very tricksy like that.’
‘Maybe not, but I was already in trouble anyway,’ said Tanya, with a scowl. ‘I’m sure they’ll just carry on where they left off.’
‘Not if they don’t remember what they’re here for,’ said Ratty, with a glint in his eye.
‘You mean . . . you can still do it?’ Tanya asked. ‘I thought when the memory of Morghul returned that things might go back to the way they were before.’
Ratty shook his head. ‘I don’t feel any different.’
‘The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that you absorbed Turpin’s magic that night,’ said Don, with an apologetic glance at Turpin.
Turpin shrugged. ‘Turpin does not mind. Ratty can always have what is hers. Besides, magic is more trouble than it’s worth sometimes.’
‘Oh, Turps,’ Ratty said fondly. ‘What are we going to do with you?’ He reached out and tweaked one of her horns, then looked at Tanya. ‘So, do you want me to? Make them forget, I mean?’
Tanya grinned.
Ratty grinned back. He approached each of the sleeping figures. From Tanya’s mother he took her watch and from the Mizhog its dog collar. Then a button from Feathercap, a thread from Gredin’s coat and a brooch pinned to Raven’s dress. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. ‘Done.’
‘Not quite.’ Don’s voice was gentle.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Ratty.
‘There’s still one more memory left to take.’ He nodded at Tanya, smiling sadly.
‘What?’ said Ratty. ‘But why? I’m safe now! Solomon’s gone and so is Morghul. We don’t need to keep on hiding!’
‘No,’ said Don. ‘Maybe not. But your ability still makes you special and vulnerable. And that we do need to hide. Just because one threat has gone, it doesn’t mean there won’t be others who’d want to use it for themselves, and would do anything to get at you. If you were both older maybe . . . if Henry were more experienced perhaps . . .’ He shook the thought away and touched Tanya’s shoulder. ‘So you see, it isn’t safe for you to know about Henry, because it puts you in danger, too. So, for now at least, I really think it’s best that Tanya forgets.’
‘But Pa . . .’
‘It’s all right,’ said Tanya. She lowered her eyes, not wanting to show that they were filling with tears. ‘I understand.’
‘I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes.’ Don paused. ‘But first . . . thank you. For everything.’
Tanya swallowed and simply nodded. A lump had risen in her throat and she did not trust herself to speak. Don shuffled to the door and quietly went outside. A long silence followed, in which she fought to regain her composure. Ratty was the first to speak.
‘You never did tell me how you found me.’
Tanya sniffed and wiped away a stray tear that had leaked down her cheek.
‘My wish,’ she said finally. ‘From the Wishing Tree.’
‘You gave up your wish? For me?’
She nodded. ‘I . . . it was important.’
A strange smile twisted Ratty’
s lips.
‘What’s so funny?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Just that I nearly used my wish for something stupid and selfish. I . . . I nearly wished to find out how I got my ability.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Turns out my wish came true anyway.’
‘So what did you wish for instead?’ Tanya asked.
‘I didn’t. After I met you, I never got around to making it. And . . . and I’m glad. You know why?’
‘Why?’
Ratty reached out and took her hand. ‘Because I’m going to save it,’ he whispered. ‘And one day, when I’m older, and I can look after myself and it’s safe, I’ll make the same wish you did. My wish will be to find you.’
Tanya stared at his grubby, brown hand in hers. Her eyes blurred with fresh tears. She gulped. ‘Do you mean it? Do you promise?’
He squeezed her hand. ‘I promise.’
She rubbed her eyes again. ‘I’m glad I met you,’ she said. ‘And Turpin.’ Her cheeks were wet now, and there was nothing she could do to stop the tears from falling. Turpin clambered up on to her shoulder, dabbing at them with the bushy end of her tail.
‘There, there,’ she said. ‘Stop now, silly girl.’
Tanya gave a watery smile. ‘I wish I could say I’ll never forget you.’
‘Well, we’ll definitely never forget you,’ said Ratty. ‘That’s another promise.’
Tanya looked down at herself. ‘What should I give you? Another button? A shoelace?’
Ratty released her hand and reached into his pocket. From it, he removed something silky and dark: her braid of hair. ‘I still have this.’
‘Will I remember anything about you?’ she asked.
Ratty shook his head. ‘Nothing. Not me or Turpin . . . or anything we did or spoke about.’
‘Just . . . do one thing for me,’ Tanya begged.
Ratty’s blue eyes were soft. ‘Anything.’
‘Just . . . wait till the morning? Please? I want to remember it all. That I had a friend, a proper friend. Just for one night.’
Ratty nodded silently. With that, they knew there was nothing more to say. Slowly, they walked to the door and opened it to a cool waft of night air. Don stood on the path a short way off, watching and waiting.