The Thirteen Treasures Part 23

'She's protected! Leave her alone! You can't touch her!'

Morwenna's lip curled in contempt as she looked at Tanya's T-shirt. 'The colour red merely acts as a concealment from the fairies . . . which you surrendered the moment you called my name.'

'Then how about this?' yelled Fabian. He reached into his pockets and pulled out one of the small cloth pouches Tanya had sewn. Fumbling with a penknife, he made a small incision in the cloth and allowed some salt to spill into his hands. He hurled it into the face of the fairy crone and dashed to Tanya's side. The hag backed away, screaming hideously and clawing at her eyes. Tanya watched in horror as her skin blistered and bubbled, and she crawled away, out of sight. More fairies advanced.

'Watch out!' Tanya shrieked.

Fabian turned, throwing salt in every direction. Howls of pain and fury filled the night as some of the salt made contact but all too quickly it was gone and new fairies were already replacing those that had been injured and were scuttling away.

'There are too many of them!' Fabian whispered. 'And I don't have any more salt!'

'They don't know that,' Tanya gasped urgently.

'Not yet,' he said. 'But it won't be long before they realise.' He began wrenching at Tanya's bonds, but it was useless. He succeeded only in cutting his hands.

'Spidertwine,' said Morwenna, savouring the word as if it were delicious to her. 'It is enchanted and therefore unbreakable by mortal hands. They say it fetches a fine price at the fairy markets. Mainly it's used for weaving nets used in the changeling trade, magical nets that can't be broken easily. It was used to capture your mother all those years ago. Ironic that it should play a part in your fate also.'

The bonds seemed only to grow tighter as Tanya struggled, cutting into her, drawing blood. Then suddenly, she remembered the scissors.

'Fabian! The scissors . . . they're in my pocket. Morag said they'd cut through almost anything!'

Fabian grappled with the Spidertwine despite his wounds, but to no avail. Morwenna watched with obvious gratification. Tanya knew then, with absolute conviction, that whatever the girl had once been she was beyond mercy now. Half a century in the fairy realm had put paid to that. All that remained was a sh.e.l.l capable only of revenge and hatred, unrecognisable as something that used to be human.

'I can't get at them,' Fabian said. 'I can't reach the scissors!' He finally gave up his fight with her bonds and slowly stepped back. The resignation on his face was unmistakable.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, backing away further. He hesitated and then ran off without another word.

'What are you doing?' Tanya screamed. 'You can't leave me! Fabian, you coward!'

But Fabian was already gone.

24.

ABIAN SPRINTED BLINDLY, STUMBLING through the darkness. He knew from the look on Tanya's face that she thought he had abandoned her just as he'd intended. It had been necessary for her to believe it in order for his plan to work, for if Morwenna had guessed what he had in mind she would never allow him to leave the woods alive.

A low scurrying noise behind told him he was being chased and in that instant his fear turned to panic.

'Leave him!' Morwenna shrieked from within the depths of the trees. 'The boy is not important!'

The scurrying fell back and then stopped altogether, until all Fabian could hear was his own ragged breathing. Without warning the ground inclined and he went sprawling to the earth. There was a horrible splintering sound and the torch suddenly went out.

'No,' said Fabian, feeling around in the darkness. 'Please, no . . .'

Already he knew that the torch was useless. He clambered to his feet shakily. The forest was pitch-black.

'Think!' he told himself. 'Calm down and think!' He pressed a b.u.t.ton on his watch and the tiny screen lit up. It was seventeen minutes to midnight.

He knelt down and patted the earth blindly until he found his rucksack. It had flown off his back in the fall. It was a moment before he remembered what was inside it.

'The compa.s.s!'

Almost crying with joy he ripped the bag open and rummaged inside until his hand closed around the smooth, cold bra.s.s. He pulled it out and, using the light from his watch, read the needle. It was pointing straight ahead.

Without further ado Fabian battled on. He ran for what seemed like forever, until his limbs ached and his lungs were burning, but he did not stop once. Every second was precious.

Twice more he fell, tearing both his clothes and his flesh, but he held on to the compa.s.s with a vice-like grip and ploughed onwards. When the edge of the forest appeared he felt an elation he had never known before and a renewed sense of strength surged through him.

Then he was out of the forest and hurtling towards the manor.

Back in the woods Tanya slumped against the tree, her energy spent. In her attempt to reach the scissors she had become even more entangled in the Spidertwine and now her right hand was caught at a painful angle behind her back.

'Why didn't you try and take me before?' she said, her anger finally overwhelming her fear. 'You had the chance weeks ago, the day Fabian and I were lost in the forest.'

Morwenna brushed a black tangle away from her face. 'I was leading you away that day,' she said, with a mad grin. 'My plan was to take you so far into the woods that you would never find your way out at least not before midnight. But then help arrived.'

Tanya remembered how she had kicked Warwick that day, and wished with all her heart that he would somehow magically appear now.

Morwenna laughed, reading her mind. 'There's no one to save you this time. Even your little friend has deserted you. He didn't wait around once he knew his precious grandfather was innocent, did he?'

'Shut up!'

'If it's any consolation, he'll never make it out of the forest. Hangman's Wood has a strange way of eluding mortals. He'll be wandering around, lost for days half dead by the time he's found . . . if he ever is found.'

'How did you know it was me that day?' said Tanya. 'You'd never even seen me before!'

There was a short silence before Morwenna replied.

'I have an informant.'

Tanya began to struggle again, her eyes scanning the woods desperately for any sign of rescue. If Red was still there, she was staying well hidden.

Fabian reached the house, his lungs ready to explode, then flew through the kitchen, not even stopping to shut the back door behind him. He ran swiftly up the stairs onto the first floor, then to the second. He paused outside his grandfather's room.

The old man was mumbling to himself over the low murmur of the television. Thinking quickly, Fabian rapped on the door, then darted along the corridor and into the alcove.

Amos stepped out into the hallway unsteadily. 'Warwick? Is that you?'

Quick as a flash, Fabian pulled the tapestry aside and slipped into the servants' pa.s.sage. There, in the darkness he felt his way along the wall, counting the doors until he came to his grandfather's room.

With bated breath he turned the handle. Luck was on his side.

The door opened and Fabian peered into the disordered room. The main door was ajar and there was no sign of Amos anywhere. He stepped inside and a wave of desperation washed over him. His eyes scanned the room, darting from one pile of junk to another. He crawled on the floor to peer beneath the bed. He pulled out several cardboard boxes, stuffed with clothes and yet more newspapers, and overturned them. His grandmother's belongings were still there, the abandoned wedding ring rattling about loose. The lock of hair was nowhere to be seen.

He saw the newspaper sc.r.a.pbook lying on the bedside table. He grabbed it, thumbing through the pages. Several cuttings fell to the floor. He snapped it shut and threw it on the bed. Quickly, he went to the chest of drawers and began rummaging through his grandfather's clothes.

'Where would he keep it, where?'

He could not believe he had seen it and not made the connection the most obvious connection of all. The destruction of the hair would break the spell of Morwenna's youth. It was this, Fabian knew, that she valued above all. And it was all he had to bargain with.

The chest of drawers yielded no answers. Fabian closed the last drawer clumsily, clothes spilling out. In frustration he kicked at one of the boxes which he had not bothered to push back under the bed. It landed with a thud and he flinched as footsteps came thundering back down the hallway.

'Warwick!'

Amos appeared in the doorway. His sunken eyes were pits of madness.

'I didn't do it!' he spat. 'I keep telling them it wasn't me. She ran away!'

'I . . . I know,' Fabian whispered. He began to back away, towards the servants' door.

Amos walked jerkily to the unmade bed and sat down.

'I loved her, I loved her,' he repeated, rocking softly. His withered hand moved across the bedclothes and slipped beneath the pillow. It was all Fabian needed.

With a speed that surprised himself he sprang forward and flung the pillow aside. There, beneath the s.p.a.ce where his grandfather laid his head every night, a lock of hair was looped like a thin black noose. Guilt eroded him like acid rain as he tore the lock of hair from the old man's frail fingers.

Amos cried out like a wounded animal.

Fabian made his escape through the servants' door, his grandfather's cries ringing in his ears. He emerged from behind the tapestry, waiting a moment to make sure the coast was definitely clear. Hearing nothing but Amos's tortured wailing, he slid out of the alcove and collided with a hard body that was standing just around the corner.

Fabian gasped as he looked up.

'W-what are you doing here? I thought y-you'd gone hunting!'

'Change of plans,' Warwick hissed, taking in his son's ripped and b.l.o.o.d.y clothes. 'I decided to come back early and a good thing too by the look of it!' He grabbed Fabian's shoulder roughly. 'Now you tell me what the h.e.l.l you're up to this time of night!'

Fabian opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out.

'Explain yourself!'

'Warwick!' Amos called out.

Warwick glared at his son. Then, still holding on to his shoulder, he marched him along the hallway to Amos's room.

'What is it, father?' His usually gruff voice was surprisingly gentle.

Amos shuffled to the door, his shoulders shaking wretchedly as he began to sob.

'He took it . . . he took it.'

Warwick caught sight of the hair in Fabian's hand and a flicker of recognition crossed his face. 'What are you doing with that? What do you want with your grandmother's hair?'

Fabian instinctively held the hair behind his back.

'It's not . . . it's not my grandmother's hair.'

'Give it to me!' Amos sobbed. 'I promised her I'd keep it forever!'

Warwick's eyes widened. 'Where's the girl?'

Fabian froze.

'Where's Tanya?'

'She's . . . she's in the woods!' Fabian croaked, unable to contain it any longer.

Warwick's face went completely white. Without a word, he grabbed Fabian's arm and wrenched the lock of hair out of his grasp.

'What are you doing?' Fabian cried. 'Give it back!' He raced after his father, who was already halfway down the stairs, leaving Amos sobbing behind. He caught up with him on the first-floor landing and tried to s.n.a.t.c.h Morwenna's hair from his father's hand.

Warwick lashed out angrily.

'Give it back!' said Fabian. 'You don't understand!'

His father turned and shook him like a dog shaking a rat. 'You little fool! It's you who doesn't understand! Do you realise what you've done? All these years we've been working to protect her and now you've led her straight into danger!' Warwick turned and continued down the stairs, slowing only to step over Spitfire at the foot of the grandfather clock.

Fabian felt his knees give way beneath him as the truth finally dawned. Warwick knew everything. 'We didn't realise,' he said feebly. 'We were just trying to help!'

'Help? Who did you think could be helped?'

'Both of them! Amos and Morwenna!'

'They're beyond saving! Amos's life was over the day the rumours started! And as for Morwenna Bloom, did you even consider the consequences if she should come strolling out of the forest, fresh-faced and fourteen years old after fifty years? They can't be saved, either of them! They could never be saved!'

Fabian could not answer. His father's words pounded heavily in his skull. A door creaked from the first floor, then Florence's face appeared over the banister. She looked haggard and half asleep, and was in her nightgown. 'Warwick? What's going on? Is everything all right?'

'Everything's fine,' Warwick said, his tone flat. He gave Fabian a look that warned him to keep quiet. 'Just this one, getting up to mischief as usual.'

'Oh,' said Florence, giving Fabian a sour glance. 'Well, I'll see you in the morning then.'

Fabian stared at his father as Florence's bedroom door closed. 'You're not going to tell her?'

Warwick pulled on his boots. 'No. I'm not.'

'She has a right to know!'

'She'll know soon enough,' said Warwick, grimly. 'And when she does if Morwenna succeeds, it'll destroy her.'

Fabian blinked back tears of shame and checked his watch. It was seven minutes to twelve. 'We're running out of time!'

'You think I don't know that?'

Warwick left the house through the front. Fabian followed him and watched in confusion as his father stalked round the side of the house towards his den.