mane.
‘Look, all I’m saying is that we have to use cunning to get us out of this. We have to go along with them – make them think we’re helpless – then take a chance and
run.’
But Moll wasn’t listening. She was scrambling over the bones and feeling her way up the steps, craning her neck towards the opening. It wasn’t just the hounds howling above them now.
There were other noises too. Voices. And Moll would recognise those voices anywhere.
‘It’s Oak,’ she whispered. ‘He’s come for me!’
Alfie leant back against the wall of the pit and shook his head.
Up above, the voices became words – so comforting and strong that Moll felt she could almost touch them. Oak sounded some way away, but he was shouting.
‘Give her up, Skull! You’ve no right to take her!’
‘I’m here, Oak! Here!’ Moll yelled through the bars of the grate.
There were a few laughs and guffaws from directly above the entrance.
Oak was still shouting: ‘I’ve got all my men here, Skull! We’ve come to take her back!’
Moll clapped a hand over her mouth as she thought of Skull’s words:
We need her full name to work the curse when the time comes.
‘Oak, no! Don’t say my name. Keep my
name safe!’ she cried.
‘Up on to the cobs, boys. Then set the hounds on them,’ Skull’s voice spat from above. ‘Let’s see what they can do.’
Moll cowered beneath the bars as the chains clanked against the cart sides, then fell to the ground. The death-like cries of the hounds wailed through the Deepwood and she listened in horror as
Gobbler, Skull and his boys’ cobs rode out of the clearing with them. Moll pushed against the bars of the grate, shouldering into it and pummelling it with her feet. She could hear Oak,
urging his men away. And then—
‘Argh!’ One of Oak’s men was crying out in pain. Moll’s mind raced. Was that Jesse, Siddy’s pa?
The hooves faded into the distance until once again there was a wall of silence.
Anger rushed through Moll, burning up her veins, pounding in her head. She hurried down the steps and stood upright in the middle of the pit as tall as she could. And then she screamed. She
screamed for Oak and Mooshie, for Siddy and Gryff, for her parents, for everyone she knew. She screamed and screamed until her eyes became saucers and she was blue in the face. The last of the
scream wriggled out of her, bursting from her mouth, leaving her gasping for breath.
And then there was silence.
‘Afeared now?’ Alfie asked.
Moll spat. ‘No. I had a scream stuck inside of me – practically bursting through my skin, it was – so I got it out.’
But Moll
was
scared. She was terrified. And her palms were tickling with sweat. Alfie lit another match and glared at Moll. She held his gaze, recognising the challenge, her face a
mixture of intense concentration and absolute fury.
Alfie squinted at her. ‘What you doing now?’
‘Rummaging through my mind for a plan.’
Alfie scoffed, then turned away.
‘What will happen to Oak and everyone?’ Moll muttered. ‘What will the hounds
do
to them?’
Alfie shrugged. ‘Oak rides fast; I’ve seen him in the forest before.’
Moll blinked back fear. ‘But those hounds – you heard them. They’re monsters; no hounds shriek like that. They—’
Moll’s words stopped short.
Something was scratching the soil away beside the grate.
M oll’s spirits leapt as she made out the green eyes glinting in the darkness. ‘You came for me,’ she gasped, rushing up the
steps.
She gripped the metals bars of the grate tight and Gryff brushed his head against her hands. Again his touch – so warm and strong. Alfie watched, wide-eyed, from the bottom of the pit.
Earth sprayed up behind the wildcat as his claws raked through the soil, burrowing closer and closer to Moll. He drew back, panting hard, his chest heaving. Alfie tensed. The animal was wild; it
might slip into the pit and attack. He shuffled backwards. But Moll was smiling.
‘Look, all I’m saying is that we have to use cunning to get us out of this. We have to go along with them – make them think we’re helpless – then take a chance and
run.’
But Moll wasn’t listening. She was scrambling over the bones and feeling her way up the steps, craning her neck towards the opening. It wasn’t just the hounds howling above them now.
There were other noises too. Voices. And Moll would recognise those voices anywhere.
‘It’s Oak,’ she whispered. ‘He’s come for me!’
Alfie leant back against the wall of the pit and shook his head.
Up above, the voices became words – so comforting and strong that Moll felt she could almost touch them. Oak sounded some way away, but he was shouting.
‘Give her up, Skull! You’ve no right to take her!’
‘I’m here, Oak! Here!’ Moll yelled through the bars of the grate.
There were a few laughs and guffaws from directly above the entrance.
Oak was still shouting: ‘I’ve got all my men here, Skull! We’ve come to take her back!’
Moll clapped a hand over her mouth as she thought of Skull’s words:
We need her full name to work the curse when the time comes.
‘Oak, no! Don’t say my name. Keep my
name safe!’ she cried.
‘Up on to the cobs, boys. Then set the hounds on them,’ Skull’s voice spat from above. ‘Let’s see what they can do.’
Moll cowered beneath the bars as the chains clanked against the cart sides, then fell to the ground. The death-like cries of the hounds wailed through the Deepwood and she listened in horror as
Gobbler, Skull and his boys’ cobs rode out of the clearing with them. Moll pushed against the bars of the grate, shouldering into it and pummelling it with her feet. She could hear Oak,
urging his men away. And then—
‘Argh!’ One of Oak’s men was crying out in pain. Moll’s mind raced. Was that Jesse, Siddy’s pa?
The hooves faded into the distance until once again there was a wall of silence.
Anger rushed through Moll, burning up her veins, pounding in her head. She hurried down the steps and stood upright in the middle of the pit as tall as she could. And then she screamed. She
screamed for Oak and Mooshie, for Siddy and Gryff, for her parents, for everyone she knew. She screamed and screamed until her eyes became saucers and she was blue in the face. The last of the
scream wriggled out of her, bursting from her mouth, leaving her gasping for breath.
And then there was silence.
‘Afeared now?’ Alfie asked.
Moll spat. ‘No. I had a scream stuck inside of me – practically bursting through my skin, it was – so I got it out.’
But Moll
was
scared. She was terrified. And her palms were tickling with sweat. Alfie lit another match and glared at Moll. She held his gaze, recognising the challenge, her face a
mixture of intense concentration and absolute fury.
Alfie squinted at her. ‘What you doing now?’
‘Rummaging through my mind for a plan.’
Alfie scoffed, then turned away.
‘What will happen to Oak and everyone?’ Moll muttered. ‘What will the hounds
do
to them?’
Alfie shrugged. ‘Oak rides fast; I’ve seen him in the forest before.’
Moll blinked back fear. ‘But those hounds – you heard them. They’re monsters; no hounds shriek like that. They—’
Moll’s words stopped short.
Something was scratching the soil away beside the grate.
M oll’s spirits leapt as she made out the green eyes glinting in the darkness. ‘You came for me,’ she gasped, rushing up the
steps.
She gripped the metals bars of the grate tight and Gryff brushed his head against her hands. Again his touch – so warm and strong. Alfie watched, wide-eyed, from the bottom of the pit.
Earth sprayed up behind the wildcat as his claws raked through the soil, burrowing closer and closer to Moll. He drew back, panting hard, his chest heaving. Alfie tensed. The animal was wild; it
might slip into the pit and attack. He shuffled backwards. But Moll was smiling.
Similar Books
