The Velvet Fox Page 9

  ‘You’re not.’

  ‘I’m in agony!’

  ‘Be quiet! It’s all right. We…’

  Another ball slashed past, just missing her. Seren ducked out from behind the curtain, ran to the kitchen table and dived under it head first. The Crow scuttered in beside her. There was a strong smell of scorching from its tail. ‘I will KILL Them for this,’ it simmered.

  The Juggler was in the kitchen doorway, and it was laughing as it juggled. ‘Ah, but you’d have a problem there, as we don’t actually die, scrawny bird.’ Blue and green balls spun in amazing patterns from its hands. It capered a little dance and said, ‘Did my clumsiness startle you?’ And then, ‘Oops. Here I go again. CATCH!’

  A green ball exploded against the table so hard the whole thing jumped.

  ‘Time for action,’ the Crow snarled. ‘When I give the signal, throw the pine cone. Ready…?’

  ‘What pine cone?’

  ‘The one I told you to get.’

  Seren went cold. ‘I haven’t got it yet.’

  The Crow swivelled a wide-eyed stare at her. ‘WHAT?’

  ‘Sorry…’

  ‘But I ordered you.’

  ‘I’ve been busy!’

  He opened his beak but she didn’t hear what he said because a fusillade of explosions crashed around them. She yelled and curled up small. The Crow dived flat and put both wings over its head. ‘I am working with AMATEURS!’ she heard it howl.

  Seren took a breath. She rolled over in the dust, scrambled up and was quite ready to rush at the Juggler and fight with it when she saw a strange sight. Someone was standing out in the corridor, a thin figure in the darkness. A voice said, ‘Here, you, faery man. Catch!’

  The Juggler turned, startled, keeping six balls in the air.

  A small round thing was thrown towards it; the creature caught it deftly with its long hand.

  Then it gave a soft cry, stopped juggling and stared at the object. All the other balls fell to the floor and sparked out with small, pointless bangs.

  Seren gave a whoop of delight.

  Gwyn was standing in the door, his face white and terrified, his coat torn. And in the Juggler’s hand was nothing but a large, rather wet, pine cone.

  The Juggler made a strangled sound.

  He stiffened.

  His clothes went hard and shiny, his green coat turned to slabs of glass.

  His face froze, his hands thinned, he went completely see-through. He became a stained-glass Juggler, a flat shape made of pieces that fell apart and clattered to the ground in a great noisy heap even as Seren watched.

  Gwyn gave a shout of fear, and the Crow a snort of scorn. Seren ran forward and picked up the pine cone as it rolled. She pulled out the silver box and dropped it in.

  Gwyn was staring at the glass pieces. He came over and touched them carefully with his boot. Then he looked around at the sleeping kitchen and the black bramble branches outside. ‘What’s going on, Seren?’ he whispered, bewildered. ‘Denzil is fast asleep in the stables, standing up with a sweeping brush in his hand. And so are the horses and the dogs and the starlings on the roof. It’s mad, but…’

  ‘How did you get through the hedge?’ the Crow snapped.

  Gwyn stared at the clockwork bird with wide eyes.

  ‘Come on, boy. Pull yourself together! This is important!’

  Gwyn swallowed. He said, ‘The hedge was small at first and then it was growing all around me. I had to struggle and fight through the branches. I got in through the back door and when I looked out it was already as high as my head. It grew so fast!’

  ‘Mm.’ The Crow flapped to the fire and perched on the fender, staring into the glowing coals. It seemed lost in thought.

  ‘Thanks for bringing the pine cone,’ Seren whispered. ‘I don’t know what we would have done without you there.’

  Gwyn shrugged and went and sat on the mat by Sam. ‘It’s all so strange. And I feel very tired.’

  He yawned. ‘I think I need to lie down, just for a bit.’

  ‘NO!’ Seren yelled but Gwyn had already curled up by the cat.

  ‘Gwyn!’ She grabbed his arm and shook him hard. ‘Wake up! Don’t close your eyes!’

  But it was too late.

  He was asleep.

  Seren threw up her hands in frustration. ‘How did that happen! And how come it doesn’t affect me? Or you?’

  She turned.

  The Crow was sitting on the table but he was far too still. He wasn’t boasting. His eyes were closed tight.

  ‘Crow!’ Seren felt a shiver of terror go through her. She ran over, grabbed the key in the Crow’s side and wound it up so tight that the Crow’s head shot up, its eyes snapped open and it yelled, ‘Stop. STOP! I’ll explode if you wind me anymore!’

  She stepped back. ‘I thought you were asleep.’

  ‘Well, I’m not. I’m thinking! You crazy girl, are you trying to kill me?’

  She looked sadly at the boy on the rug. ‘Gwyn’s asleep.’

  ‘So I see.’ The Crow frowned and pushed imaginary glasses up its beak. ‘What I don’t really understand is why you’re not affected. I mean you don’t have any special powers. You’re just an orphan. Unless… Are you a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter? Is your coat inside out? Have you eaten garlic?’

  ‘No, to all of those.’ Seren looked at Gwyn sadly. She wished he hadn’t fallen under the spell. It had been so good to see him, and now she couldn’t even wake him.

  ‘Then you must be wearing some sort of protection. Let me look at you.’ The Crow hopped down and walked around her, eyeing her sharply up and down. ‘Goodness your hair is a mess. Turn around.’

  She turned.

  ‘Hold out your hands.’

  She did.

  ‘Filthy nails.’ It hopped nearer. ‘What’s that?’

  Peeping from under her sleeve was a small red bead.

  ‘Oh.’ She shook it down. ‘That’s my bracelet. Tomos made it for me.’

  The Crow tipped its head on one side and examined it closely. The red beads shone in the dark, and the little acorn that Seren loved best glimmered as if it was really gold.

  ‘Tomos made it?’

  ‘Yes. To show we’ll always be friends.’

  ‘Then that’s it.’ The Crow nodded. ‘That’s what’s keeping you out of Their power. That’s human magic. They can’t do anything against that. Keep it hidden. And don’t –don’t! – let Them get Their skinny silvery hands on it.’

  Seren smiled. She was so glad the bracelet had a magic power! It made her feel happy, as if Tomos himself was nearby – the real Tomos, not the one Mrs Honeybourne had under her spell.

  ‘We need to go and find him,’ she said.

  ‘Yes. We’ll break into the nursery now and destroy the carousel. That should solve everything. The spell will be broken and everyone will wake up. You’ll have supper.’ The Crow sighed and looked at the cakes cooling on the sideboard. ‘With cherry cake, it looks like. Do you know howlong I’ve been without cherry cake? And SCONES!’

  Seren was so hungry she grabbed one and crammed it into her mouth.

  The Crow moaned.

  But she was already at the door. ‘Come on! Stop wasting time!’

  In the eerily darkened corridors everything was shadowy. Doors were closed. The eyes of the portraits were closed, as if they slept too. Candle flames burned unflickering. Against every pane of glass the huge hedge pressed tight, and birds and insects slept in it, and it was so thick there was no way even to see through its barbs and thorns, as if there was no world beyond anymore.

  She walked quietly. She realised that her dress made no rustles and that the floorboards no longer creaked. Even her shadow was gone.

  She said, ‘This is so scary.’

  ‘And that’s what gets me.’ The Crow swooped overhead. ‘I mean, this is first-class magic. Those three puny little figures of the carousel couldn’t possibly have…’

  Seren stopped dead.

 
The Crow thumped right into her. ‘For heaven’s sake, girl!’

  ‘There weren’t three figures on the carousel. There were four.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘There were four!’ She was concentrating hard, throwing her memory back to when she had first seen the carousel, on Tomos’s birthday. It seemed so long ago. ‘He wound it up and it played, and there was the Drummer and the Dancer and the Juggler, yes, but there was something else.’

  ‘Another figure?’

  ‘A smaller one. Just sitting in the middle. Watching.’

  The Crow stood on a bannister, eye to eye with her. ‘Think very carefully. What sort of figure, what did it wear, what…?’

  ‘No.’ Seren shook her head. ‘It wasn’t a person. It wasn’t anything scary really. It was a fox. A small red, velvet fox.’

  The Crow went totally still. It swallowed hard. When it spoke its voice was the tiniest of hoarse croaks. ‘The Velvet Fox?’

  ‘Yes. Sort of made of bits of cloth. It had a smile stitched on it.’

  ‘OH, HELL’S TEETH!’ To her astonishment the Crow took off and zoomed around in total panic. It banged against the ceiling. It crashed against the walls. ‘This is terrible! We have to get out of here! We SO have to get out of here!’ It smacked into a curtain, backed out, and hurtled to the window, tugging at the catch with its beak. ‘Help me, quick! Quick!’

  ‘But…’ Seren shook her head. ‘It was just a little … soft thing.’

  The Crow turned on her savagely. ‘No, it isn’t! I know all about the Fox. The Fox is a being of immense power. Fearsome. Lethal! He’s in all the stories. If he finds us, we are in such danger we might as well…’

  A cough.

  A small, modest cough.

  It came from behind them. And with it came a voice that was as sleek and smooth as velvet.

  ‘So kind of you to say so, my dear bird. And all, of course, quite, quite true.’

  11

  A stitched smile

  Bough and bole and briar and fen

  Who lives in the heart of them?

  The Crow stared over its shoulder.

  Seren turned slowly around.

  She was very scared of what she might see.

  But all there was, looking down at them from the corner of the bannister, was a small red fox.

  It sat upright and alert. Its paws were neatly together, and its thick tail tucked around them cosily. Its eyes were black and bright as buttons; its ears pricked; its body a patchwork of sewn scraps, velvet and corduroy, all different reds except for one small patterned patch on its left paw.

  It looked just like a baby’s toy, Seren thought.

  The Fox smiled a stitched smile. ‘I know what you’re thinking, human child. But look at your friend. He knows better. He knows how much danger you are in.’

  Seren flicked a glance. It was true the Crow was in a state of complete, frozen terror. ‘Kek,’ was all it could say. ‘Kek kek.’

  ‘I’m not scared of you,’ Seren said.

  ‘Well, you will be.’ The Fox lifted one paw delicately. ‘When you know me better.’

  She folded her arms. She was determined not to be afraid. ‘So, who are you?’

  ‘Who am I, little girl? I’m the Fox. I’m the Trickster and the Tease. I’m the Shadow and the Secret. Actually I’m the one everyone forgets about until it’s too late. Did you really think those fancy figures were your enemies? They were just my little joke. I did so enjoy watching you running around defeating them and thinking how clever you were!’ It gave an odd little yelping laugh, and then shrugged, as if bored. ‘But they were just a game. A distraction to keep you busy while the moon rose and the shadows crept over the house and the hedge grew. Now Plas-y-Fran and everyone in it belongs to me.’

  Seren shook her head. She had never felt so cross. ‘No, it doesn’t. So take away your stupid hedge and let everyone wake up! I suppose Tomos is asleep somewhere too?’

  The Fox frowned. ‘Tomos is the cause of all this. Tomos made the mistake of boasting that he was safe from Us. He had to learn his lesson.’

  ‘Is she keeping him prisoner?’

  The Fox unwrapped its tail and stood. ‘She? You mean dear Mrs Honeybourne? She is a very useful servant to me.’ It waved a paw at the schoolroom door. ‘Would you like to see?’

  ‘Yes.’ Seren glanced at the Crow; he gave her a rapid blink back. He still looked petrified, but the old glint was back in his jewel-bright eyes.

  The schoolroom door flew open all by itself. The Fox jumped down, a russet flash passed her. ‘Come with me. Let me show you.’

  She took one step after it.

  ‘What are you doing?’ the Crow hissed.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan. Just be ready!’

  Seren stepped into the room and looked round.

  The school desks and the globe and the bookshelves had all been pushed aside. Now the carousel stood in the middle of the room, and it had grown to be enormous. It filled all the space. The tinkly music was playing from inside it, and it was turning slowly, the riderless horses rising and falling on their striped poles.

  Well, not all riderless.

  Tomos rode a white horse with painted-yellow eyes. He sat on it dreamily, going round and round in circles.

  Seren gasped. ‘Tomos! It’s me! CAN YOU HEAR ME?’

  He didn’t answer. He was humming the creaky tune.

  ‘Tomos!’

  ‘There are different sorts of sleep,’ the Fox said. ‘Don’t you think?’

  ‘Let him go! Wake him up!’

  ‘Ah, no. No one can wake him now. He will sleep for eternity – I’m not messing around with that hundred years business. Plas-y-Fran will be forgotten under its brambles, and there will be no little princess coming to kiss him awake. Ever. Because even you, Seren Rhys, are starting to feel very, very tired.’

  A chortle came from the desk. Seren glanced over and saw Mrs Honeybourne, knitting with her red wool. ‘Have a good sleep, Seren,’ the governess said. She knitted harder; the needles were enormous and clacked like rattling bones. ‘See you at the end of time.’

  Seren blinked. For a moment she felt really sleepy. The spinning of the carousel was making her giddy. She wanted to sit down on the step and hold on tight.

  Instead, she ran. Before the Fox could blink or Mrs Honeybourne stand up, Seren was on the carousel. She darted between the horses and caught Tomos by the sleeve and shook him hard. ‘Tomos it’s me! Seren!’

  He turned and looked at her, so slowly.

  For a moment he stared at her. And then he said something that astonished her.

  ‘I don’t know who you are,’he said.

  It was such a shock! And it was true, because his face was blank and his eyes numb. He was completely under Their spell!

  Suddenly Seren knew she wasn’t having any of this. She hadn’t come all the way from the orphanage to have her new life with her new family snatched away by the Tylwyth Teg. She was sorting this right now!

  ‘Oh yes, you do, Tomos Jones,’ she snapped. ‘You certainly do!’

  With a quick shiver she slipped off the bracelet of red beads.

  ‘NO!’ the Crow yelled.

  Seren grabbed Tomos’s limp hand. The red beads gleamed; the gold acorn glittered. She felt the power of the magic in the bracelet. She knew that the care Tomos had put into it was all that could save him now.

  But just before she could slide it on to his wrist a flash of russet came past her like lightning and snatched the bracelet right out of her hand. She gave a scream of rage but it was too late. The Fox had the bracelet in its mouth!

  Mrs Honeybourne had jumped to her feet. ‘Oh, how marvellous!’ she screeched.

  The Fox leaped from the window and disappeared into the night.

  At once Seren swung herself up on the saddle of one of the wooden horses.

  ‘CROW!’ she yelled. ‘Do something, NOW!’

  A dark shape flapped over her head.

  ‘Hold
on tight,’ it snapped. ‘And don’t look down!’

  She gave a gasp. The leather reins were gripped in her fists.

  There was a lift in her stomach, a dizzying plummet, and the horse under her was galloping. It was rising up on its wooden hooves and the striped pole was gone, and the carousel around her was gone, and the window of the room was open and the horse galloped out of it up into the night sky. Seren yelled with delight. Already she was so high! She could look down and see Plas-y-Fran below, and there was a terrible darkness all around it. Even as she galloped away she could see the hedge growing and curling and encircling the house; it had already covered the stables and the dairy, and even the laundry house was lost under it; the lawns were all matted with holly and brambles. Only the lake shimmered silver in the moonlight.

  ‘Faster!’ she yelled.

  She knew they would need all the speed they had to catch the fleet Fox.

  With a clatter the Crow crash-landed on her shoulder.

  ‘Where is it?’ Seren yelled.

  ‘There! Just ahead!’

  She saw it. A small red streak was racing across the sky, like a tiny spot of fire among the stars.

  ‘Can we go faster? It’s getting away! We have to get that bracelet!’