The Crowmaster (13 page)

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Authors: Barry Hutchison

BOOK: The Crowmaster
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T
he wind cut like a knife. It sliced through my T-shirt and nipped at my lungs. In an attempt to keep my internal organs from freezing, all the blood was rushing from my fingers, making it difficult to hold on to the icy metal rungs of the ladder.

For the first fifteen metres or so the trees had shielded us from the worst of the chill factor, but up here – past what I guessed must be twenty-five metres – we were completely exposed to punishing gusts of the harsh January wind.

The ladder ran up the inside of the mast, just a metre or two from the horizontal struts the Crowmaster was clambering up. He was faster than I was, but the ladder was an easier climb, and despite the loss of feeling in my fingers, I was gaining steadily.

Ameena, though, was catching up even more quickly. As usual, she had acted before I had, launching herself up the ladder before I had even realised the need to climb. I'd quickly followed, making a lot of noise about her letting me go first, but privately hoping she didn't take the offer up.

When we'd faced Caddie and Raggy Maggie, I'd been amazed at how quickly Ameena could climb a rope ladder, but that was nothing compared to how she darted up this one.

Her movements were fluid and graceful, giving the illusion she was hardly hurrying at all. With each step, though, I fell further and further behind, and even when I worked my aching limbs to their limits, I still only barely managed to keep pace.

She was eight or nine metres ahead of me now, just three or four below the Crowmaster. If she was scared, she wasn't showing it, not even slowing as she began to draw level with the scarecrow's monstrous form.

The sky was a little brighter up here, away from the shadowy canopy of the trees. Through the covering of cloud I could see a hazy patch of light, just above the horizon. Over to my right, the embers of Marion's house glowed brightly, rebelling against the dusk. Down below, I could still hear the birds circling around the mast's base.

The Crowmaster made another leap upwards, pulling away from Ameena. She climbed faster, hands and feet moving in perfect harmony, regaining the ground she had lost.

It was a race to the transmitter, and they were neck and neck. For the first time since starting to climb, though, I wondered what we were going to do when we got there.

A blast of icy wind hit me face on, pushing me backwards away from the ladder. For one heart-stopping moment I thought I was going to fall, but my fingers held their grip, and I was moving again in moments.

I looked up at Ameena and cried out in triumph. She was pulling ahead of the scarecrow, leaving him behind. She was going to beat him to the top, although I still didn't know if she'd planned any further ahead than that.

‘Keep going!' I shouted. ‘You're doing it!'

The sound of my voice made her hesitate. She looked down at me. ‘What?'

‘I said—
Look out!
'

He swung out at her, one arm holding on to the mast's frame, the other held at full stretch. His fist jabbed between the rungs of the ladder, slamming into the top of her head with such force that I heard it over the whistling of the wind.

And then he was back on his perch, hands already reaching for the next bar. And Ameena…

Ameena was falling.

She dropped backwards off the ladder, arms out by her sides, hands clawing at the air. I gripped on to a rung with one hand, swung out just as the Crowmaster had done. Her fingers touched mine, our eyes briefly met, but then she was gone, plummeting past me on the way to the ground far below.

‘Catch her, catch her, catch her!' I screamed to the world in general, my hand still stretched out for her. Lightning exploded in my head, blindingly bright, but gone in a fraction of a second.

A dark shape broke through the wall of birds, rocketing across the gap and wrapping its stubby arms around Ameena's back. The wind nipped my eyes, bringing tears, so that I couldn't see the figure in any detail. I could see, though, that it was short and stunted, but with a pair of feathery wings on its back, like some kind of deformed angel.

I watched – barely able to believe what I was seeing – as the flying
thing
dropped Ameena awkwardly on to the grass, banked left, then punched its way through the circling crows. I looked for it, but it didn't emerge on the other side of the birds.

Ameena got up and spun on the spot, looking for whatever it was that had saved her. She shouted up to me, but I was too far away to make out the words. The sheer amazement in her tone told me she was OK, though, which left me free to concentrate on catching the Crowmaster.

I gritted my teeth and pushed upwards. A large, drum-like dish loomed above my head. The scarecrow had almost reached it. There was no way I could beat him to it, but if I worked my legs hard enough, I could get there right behind him.

The ladder vibrated a little in my hand, and I knew without looking that Ameena had rejoined the chase. It was reassuring to know she was coming, but she was too far away to make much difference. It was me and the Crowmaster now, and part of me – the small part that wasn't quaking with fear – wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

He was waiting for me at the top, hanging on to the curve of the dish, drumming his fingers against its side. I hooked an arm around the ladder, expecting him to swing for me at any moment, just as he'd done to Ameena.

But he didn't. Instead he smiled and said, ‘Sure took your time, boy.'

I didn't know what to say at first. The crow on his shoulder hopped up on to his head, then down on to the other shoulder, watching me all the way.

‘What?' I asked. It wasn't the heroic retort I'd been looking for, but he'd caught me off guard and it was all I could think to say. I tried to pull it back. ‘I'm not letting you smash that dish.'

SS-SS-SS-SS
. That laugh again. God, I hated that laugh. ‘Smash it? I ain't gonna smash it, boy. Why would I smash it?'

‘Because it can stop you,' I said, although even I couldn't miss the uncertainty in my voice. ‘Because of the interference.'

His face – or what was left of it – took on an expression of genuine puzzlement. ‘I ain't got the first clue what you're talking about.'

‘The way you control the birds,' I said. ‘You send some sort of signal, the same way mobile phones do. That's how you do it. But the signal from a
real
mobile phone messes your signal up. Right?'

‘Yup.'

That surprised me. ‘I am?' I said. ‘I mean, right. I am. That's why you're going to smash this, to stop any more signals interfering with yours.'

‘I told you, boy, I ain't gonna smash nothin'.'

My mind raced. He'd reached the dish well before me. If he had wanted to break it he could have done so before I'd been close enough to stop him. So why hadn't he? Why come all the way up here if he wasn't going to smash it?

I looked down. Ameena was still far below. The birds were still circling around the outside of the mast. The clearing was…

Wait.

The Crowmaster's feet were on the horizontal strut, his hands were on the dish, but he was leaning backwards, away from the mast. He was on the outside, just like the birds.

And the dish. The dish was pointing outwards.

‘You didn't come below the mast because there's no signal there,' I said, the truth finally dawning. ‘The dish itself doesn't interfere with your control at all. You need the dish. You use it to broadcast the signal, and the dish doesn't point underneath the mast, it only points outwards.'

‘Well, check out the big brain on you, boy,' the Crowmaster sneered. ‘Give yourself a pat on the back.' He held up a gnarled hand. ‘No, wait, don't do that, you might fall off, and that'd really screw up my plan.'

I felt the colour drain from my face. ‘What plan?'

‘You think you found your way here by accident, boy?' he cackled. ‘I been leading you here right from the start. I planted them seeds in your head, made you think that little telephone of yours could hurt me. In the bedroom. Down in the mud after I tossed you out the window. It was all an act, boy. All an act to make you think you had a way to stop me.'

‘No,' I said weakly. ‘That's not true.'

‘Kidnapping your girl, getting my babies to chase you in just the exact right direction – all this time I been leading you right here. Right to this moment.'

‘Why?' I asked, my throat suddenly tight.

‘So I could do
this
.'

The crow on his shoulder squawked, drawing my attention away from the Crowmaster himself. His arm uncoiled like a whip. His hand was on my head, the palm flat across my hair. Then came five sharp, blistering pains. I threw up one hand, trying to break his grip, but his claw-like fingernails were through my skin, pressing in hard against my skull.

I felt the power surge through me, crackling across my scalp, surging to the points where the scarecrow's fingers met my head.

‘Yeah!' he screeched. ‘Yeehaw!'

The dark hollows of his eyes were lit up a bright, brilliant blue. Tendrils of electricity crawled across his whole body, standing out like bulging, varicose veins.

‘It's incredible,' he crowed, ‘the power! The things you can do, boy. The things you can do!'

I was screaming now, one arm still wrapped around the ladder, the other clutching his wrist. It felt solid, like a plank of wood, and I couldn't do a thing to break the grip.

‘Now,' he grinned, holding up his other hand. Energy danced between his fingertips. ‘Watch the birdie.'

He jammed his hand into the centre of the dish. At once, the veins of electricity arced along his arm, spreading out like a spider-web across the dish's blank grey surface.

The first flurry of movement happened in seconds. They rose from the trees a mile or so to our left, one at a time at first, then in groups of five, then ten or more, until they hung above the forest like a dark fog.

On all sides the crows began to rise up above the treetops, screeching and cawing as they homed in on the Crowmaster's amplified signal.

In the distance, other birds had appeared over the crest of a hill. Others still swooped towards us from the fields way over on my right. In moments there were hundreds of them – thousands – all drawing together and darkening half of the sky.

‘I almost didn't believe them things your daddy told me,' he sniggered, watching as yet more and more of the birds joined the growing flock. ‘Not until I saw it for myself. I did think about just killing you, but then I thought “Why not
use
him instead?”.' He leaned in until his mouth was by my ear. ‘You're gonna be my battery, boy. I'm gonna drain every last drop of that power and use it to send my babies out into the world.

‘I wonder,' he whispered, barely able to hold back his laughter, ‘how your momma will scream when they're tearing at her insides? Will she holler your name? I'll be sure to let you know.'

I smashed my fist against him again. Again he shrugged it off.

‘Don't look so glum, boy. You know what they say – it's better to light a candle than to curse the darkness. Try to look on the bright side.' He pulled me in closer and flashed his rotting teeth in my face. ‘I'm gonna keep you alive for a very long time.'

Light a candle
. The phrase buzzed through my skull.
Light a candle, light a candle, light a candle
.

I dug into my back pocket and found what I was looking for. The metal top of the lighter sprung open as I brought it up and flicked the metal wheel, sparking it up.

A flash of panic whipped across the Crowmaster's face. I flicked the lighter again, but the wind stole the spark away. Before I could try for a third time, his fingernails slashed across my knuckles, knocking the lighter from my grip.

It sailed off towards the middle of the mast and dropped out of sight, taking my hopes with it. The self-satisfied smirk returned to the scarecrow's face.

‘She made me watch that movie too many times for me to be caught out by a lighter,' he told me. ‘You gotta be quicker'n that, boy.'

‘I… made… a… dog!'

The Crowmaster spluttered a laugh and pulled back, his bright blue eyes boring into mine. ‘Say what now?'

The pain was almost unbearable. It started in my head, but washed through me like acid, until it felt like all my insides were swishing around my feet. I could feel my power flowing out of me, draining away, but it felt like something was flowing back in at the same time.

Whether it was my abilities trying to save my life again, or whether I was somehow siphoning off some of the Crowmaster's regeneration ability, I'll never know. But as we hung there from the ladder, dangerously far from the ground, my battered body began to heal. I couldn't see the wounds closing over, but I could feel them, and as each one sealed shut, I could feel my strength returning. And the stronger I became, the clearer I could think.

I had a plan. A plan that was going to work.

‘Do you have…
any
idea how hard it is t-to make a dog?' I hissed.

The area above the scarecrow's eyes furrowed down. ‘Yet again, son, I don't have the first damn clue what you're—'

‘It's really hard,' I grimaced. ‘There's the head to think about, then the… then the legs and the tail.' The Crowmaster was looking more and more bewildered, and as his frown deepened, the pain racking my body lessened a shade. ‘Lungs, liver, brain, eyes, it's not easy making a dog. And I made one. I made other stuff too. People, even.'

‘
So?
'

‘So if I can make something as complicated as a dog,' I said, grabbing hold of his arm, ‘I can
definitely
make something much simpler. Like a flame.'

A wisp of smoke curled up around my fingertips and a shudder travelled the length of the Crowmaster's body. The blue light faded from the dark holes of his eyes as the straw of his arm began to smoulder and burn.

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