throat.
7. A FAMILIAR STRANGER
His motherstood wit h her hands on her hips, looking through the broken window. ‘Tell me again how this happened?’
Jack tried to remember the lie he had told to cover up the events of the previous night, however, all he could think of was Bill swallowing the Hatchling. ‘I fenced with Yang, who ducked my blow,’ he said, cringing as his mother’s face darkened.
‘I told you not to go playing with those weapons, didn’t I Jack.’
Jack gave a nod. His mother turned her back on him to finish lining his window frame with seeds from her apron pocket. After counting out twenty, she stood back, and the seeds burst. The stems shot up, blotting out the morning light. The entwining plants filled the entire window.
‘Go down to the garden and pick up the glass,’ she said. ‘You as well Yang, you’re as much to blame as my son.’
With a hung head, Jack left his room; he had never seen his mother so angry. He knew, for the next few days, the plants would act as his prison bars.
‘Use gloves.’ His mother’s shout followed him down the stairs. ‘You’ll find them on the hook on the backdoor.’
At least she bought his lie. If she knew the truth, she would not be so lenient.
He had feared the demon would kill Bill; suffocate him, or worse. Listening to his friend snore deep into the night, he had expected something to happen. Only nothing had. Whatever the Hatchling was doing, it did not want to kill Bill. Jack had hunkered in the dark, waiting for the Ghost Walker to breathe life back into Grandma Poulis. His mind had raced with fears. A Ghost Walker was a woman possessed by a demon. All the stories agreed; a wood demon stole a woman’s soul, leaving her dead body each night in her bed. Was that what had happened to Bill? He never heard of a demon possessing a boy. It was close to dawn when Grandma Poulis at last put down her paintbrush. Blue light slipped through the gap under the door touching him; overcome with calm, he had, for the first time since taking the egg, felt at ease. The tales must be wrong; how could someone so wonderful do him harm. Although fearing discovery, he did not fear her. Then, if not a wood demon, what had slipped into Bill? Plagued by doubts he had crept down the stairs and back through the room with the dolls.
Now, with the sun shining, he wanted to discard everything he had experienced; the Hatchling, the chase to the Poulis house, the Ghost Walker; all of it. Only, how could he? The Hatchling was inside his best friend.
The village awoke like any other morning, innocent to the events that had unfolded a few hours ago. Miss Mistletoe’s cat prowled, holding her tail stiff in the air. Beyond the cat, he spied a few children playing along a beaten track. The Belson twins, having transformed themselves into Grints, chased them. Malcolm wore the lidless eyes and the sharp beak of the night hunter, while Graham waddled around on green mottled legs. Everyone just accepted the twins’ sharing of their Talent. Squealing, Tracey Hulme launched herself into the air, hovering just beyond Malcolm’s grasping fingers. Beth, Tracey’s younger sister, sent blue and red lights into the beaked face, making the boys take after her. She sped down the lane in the direction of the river.
Although the good weather continued, with hardly a cloud to spoil the sky, and the scent of fresh cut grass lingered in the air, Jack could not assuage his foreboding. He spotted Grandma Poulis in her kitchen. Once more age masked her face. Her beautiful golden hair that had spun down her back now fell across her face in a grey web. His longing for her had departed leaving him bereft, as though he had given up a long cherished secret. Silently he wanted Grandpa Poulis to take Wolf for a walk, to show him that everything was normal. Only now, nothing was the same. If he saw the old man, his actions would appear false, an act to deflect any interest in his family. Until he saw
7. A FAMILIAR STRANGER
His motherstood wit h her hands on her hips, looking through the broken window. ‘Tell me again how this happened?’
Jack tried to remember the lie he had told to cover up the events of the previous night, however, all he could think of was Bill swallowing the Hatchling. ‘I fenced with Yang, who ducked my blow,’ he said, cringing as his mother’s face darkened.
‘I told you not to go playing with those weapons, didn’t I Jack.’
Jack gave a nod. His mother turned her back on him to finish lining his window frame with seeds from her apron pocket. After counting out twenty, she stood back, and the seeds burst. The stems shot up, blotting out the morning light. The entwining plants filled the entire window.
‘Go down to the garden and pick up the glass,’ she said. ‘You as well Yang, you’re as much to blame as my son.’
With a hung head, Jack left his room; he had never seen his mother so angry. He knew, for the next few days, the plants would act as his prison bars.
‘Use gloves.’ His mother’s shout followed him down the stairs. ‘You’ll find them on the hook on the backdoor.’
At least she bought his lie. If she knew the truth, she would not be so lenient.
He had feared the demon would kill Bill; suffocate him, or worse. Listening to his friend snore deep into the night, he had expected something to happen. Only nothing had. Whatever the Hatchling was doing, it did not want to kill Bill. Jack had hunkered in the dark, waiting for the Ghost Walker to breathe life back into Grandma Poulis. His mind had raced with fears. A Ghost Walker was a woman possessed by a demon. All the stories agreed; a wood demon stole a woman’s soul, leaving her dead body each night in her bed. Was that what had happened to Bill? He never heard of a demon possessing a boy. It was close to dawn when Grandma Poulis at last put down her paintbrush. Blue light slipped through the gap under the door touching him; overcome with calm, he had, for the first time since taking the egg, felt at ease. The tales must be wrong; how could someone so wonderful do him harm. Although fearing discovery, he did not fear her. Then, if not a wood demon, what had slipped into Bill? Plagued by doubts he had crept down the stairs and back through the room with the dolls.
Now, with the sun shining, he wanted to discard everything he had experienced; the Hatchling, the chase to the Poulis house, the Ghost Walker; all of it. Only, how could he? The Hatchling was inside his best friend.
The village awoke like any other morning, innocent to the events that had unfolded a few hours ago. Miss Mistletoe’s cat prowled, holding her tail stiff in the air. Beyond the cat, he spied a few children playing along a beaten track. The Belson twins, having transformed themselves into Grints, chased them. Malcolm wore the lidless eyes and the sharp beak of the night hunter, while Graham waddled around on green mottled legs. Everyone just accepted the twins’ sharing of their Talent. Squealing, Tracey Hulme launched herself into the air, hovering just beyond Malcolm’s grasping fingers. Beth, Tracey’s younger sister, sent blue and red lights into the beaked face, making the boys take after her. She sped down the lane in the direction of the river.
Although the good weather continued, with hardly a cloud to spoil the sky, and the scent of fresh cut grass lingered in the air, Jack could not assuage his foreboding. He spotted Grandma Poulis in her kitchen. Once more age masked her face. Her beautiful golden hair that had spun down her back now fell across her face in a grey web. His longing for her had departed leaving him bereft, as though he had given up a long cherished secret. Silently he wanted Grandpa Poulis to take Wolf for a walk, to show him that everything was normal. Only now, nothing was the same. If he saw the old man, his actions would appear false, an act to deflect any interest in his family. Until he saw
Similar Books
