The first sound to break the chilly silence of the wildways was that of the sea. Quietly lapping waves and the cry of a solitary seagull, one long and four short: uuuuuuuuuuurrr – urr urr urr urr. Then I heard crunching under my feet as crisp crusts of ice cracked when I stepped on them. Dark cliffs loomed to my right and at their foot a frosty, yellow forest of tall reeds poked up through the ice. To my left the waves whispered quietly across the shore under a thin, oily membrane of ice.
I’d arrived. I recognized the place from Shanaia’s picture and, although I couldn’t see the house, it must be hiding somewhere in front of me, a little further along the shore.
Cat had led me through the wildways fog, never more than a few paces ahead of me. I couldn’t see him right now, and yet I sensed that he was nearby.
I was here. I was really here. I was walking along Westmark’s shoreline, despite thinking I would never dare. I still didn’t dare, not really. I was just doing it anyway. And I didn’t believe for one moment that I could take on Chimera. I felt no bigger or stronger or braver than before. But the thought of going back to Mercury Street and pretending nothing had happened while the police and Oscar’s mum kept searching and never found him because they were looking in the wrong place… it was unthinkable. Much worse than being here, all alone, except for Cat perhaps, and waiting for Chimera to notice me.
I didn’t have any kind of clever plan. I could, of course, try to sneak as close as possible to the house without being seen, but if the soul-stripped animals had caught Shanaia in under an hour, it would surely take even less than that before they dug their claws into me. After all, Shanaia was born and bred here, and besides – although she was young – she was a fully trained wildwitch. My one slender hope was that Shanaia had been right when she’d said that for some reason the soul-stripped animals wouldn’t touch me.
The frozen shore suddenly looked exposed and bare. The sky and the sea, the ice and the sand, and not a bush or tree for miles around. The only hiding place was inside the jungle of whispering, yellow reeds, but I couldn’t go there, the ice crust wasn’t strong enough to support my weight, nor would I be able to tell if I was still walking in the right direction.
So I stayed on the shore, but kept close to the reed forest. I didn’t know if it made a difference. The seagulls would probably detect me no matter what I did. And what was it Shanaia had said about wild dogs?
I’d barely finished the thought when I heard a loud, yipping bark. It was coming from behind me, somewhere on the other side of the reeds, I thought. I’d stopped instinctively at the sound, but what could I do apart from walk on? Run? The dogs could probably run at more than twice my speed. Go away, I whispered in my mind. Go away, go away, go away.
The reeds rustled. And, although I’d decided not to, I suddenly found myself running. My wellies were heavy and clumsy, and the ice made it worse, either cracking under my weight, or, if it held, so slippery that I was constantly skidding and stumbling.
Yip-yip, yip-yip. More sharp barking – and gaining on me all the time. They were no longer only behind me, but also coming up on my right, through the reeds. “They surrounded me, and I couldn’t escape.” That was what Shanaia had said, and now the same was happening to me. I made a sharp left out onto the sandy shore where running would at least be easier. They might be able to see me better – but then I would also be able to see them.
The frosty air stung my lungs. Now I might not be the worst in our class at PE, but I’m far from the best either, and the school’s annual fitness run is always something of an ordeal. If I get out of this alive, I vowed, I’m going to take up running and healthy eating. Cross my heart! My boots flopped around my calves, and my thighs felt heavy, cold and stiff.
Yip-yip, yip-yip!
This time, the barking was coming from the reeds just in front of me. Four or five fox-like creatures emerged from the reeds and ran out onto the shore.
I stopped. The air was wheezing in and out of my chest and I was sweating so hard that the T-shirt under my jumper and puffer jacket was sticking to my armpits and my back as if glued there. But they’re not very big, I thought. Smaller than foxes, in fact. Tawny with dark spots on their flanks, black-rimmed, pointy, triangular ears and a dark mask around their eyes. Almost cute. For a moment I felt daft for being so scared and trying to outrun them. That was before I noticed the red glow in their eyes. They weren’t blood red, like the seagulls’ eyes had been, but it was there, a fiery, red glint in the dark.
The first five wild dogs were only the vanguard. Behind me, and from the forest of reeds to my right, at least twenty more dogs poured out onto the shore, their heads lowered and their legs strangely stiff. They approached slowly, one step at a time. There was no longer any reason for them to hurry, I wasn’t going anywhere. They surrounded me just as easily as they’d surrounded Shanaia.
“Cat,” I whispered. “Cat, are you there? Help me now!”
Remember.
That was all. That was all the help I got.
The dogs moved closer, also to each other, until they formed a full circle. A circle with me in the middle. Then I heard a final, sharp: “Yip!” from one of them, an older bitch with a grizzled face and a lop-sided, torn ear, and they pounced as one.
Lop-Ear struck me just below my chest like a furry cannonball. Other teeth closed around a calf, an arm, a welly. I shouted and lashed out at them, trying to stay on my feet, but they were tugging and pulling at my waterproofs, sleeves, boots, I was tugged and shoved and harried, and eventually dragged to my knees, and then, seconds later, three or four dogs were on my back, and I collapsed under a pile of salivating jaws, tawny bodies and broad paws with strong, yellowish claws.
“GO AWAY!” My mouth was full of sand, I could hardly breathe. Spitting and coughing and writhing, I screamed “GO AWAY” as loud as I could, inside and out. But they weren’t going anywhere.
They’re going to maul me to death, I thought and panicked. Soon all that will be left of me will be a few stripped bones and a bloodstained patch of frozen sand.
Then I realized two things.
They were silent – there was no growling or snarling. And so far, none of them had bitten anything other than my clothes. They weren’t trying to eat me. They just wanted me to lie still so they could restrain me. I ended up half on my back, half on my side, with Lop-Ear on top of me. She squatted and peed on my leg. Then her head shot forwards in a sudden and terrifying movement, and her jaws closed around my neck and chin, just hard enough for me to feel how sharp her fangs were.
I stopped shouting. Instead, I lay very still while hot dog pee seeped through my not-quite-waterproofs and the thinner leggings underneath, and I felt my leg grow wet. I closed my eyes. She kept her grip on my chin and throat for what seemed like an eternity, but perhaps it was seconds or minutes, I don’t know.
Cat, I thought. You’re supposed to protect me, aren’t you? How can you let them do this?
And the worst part wasn’t even that I was lying on the icy sand with dog pee on my leg and a set of jaws clamped around my throat. That was just the beginning. Because I was starting to realize why they didn’t bite me properly, why they were only restraining me. Shanaia had said it: “They surrounded me, and I couldn’t escape.” They hadn’t killed Shanaia either, they had only pinned her down while they waited, just as they were doing now.
While they waited for Chimera to arrive.