Soul Splinter by Abi Elphinstone Read Free Book Online Page B

but Moll’s gaze never faltered. Straight ahead – towards the amulet, towards what she hoped was her ma’s soul.
    Eventually the heathland petered out and in its place fields unfolded to their left, set back from the path behind a jumbled stone wall. Sheep huddled together in the field, their heads raised as the cobs galloped by. The land here hadn’t been touched by the Shadowmasks; their dark magic had been directed straight at Moll and Gryff in the cove. Moll looked down at the wildcat, bounding along between Jinx and the cliff edge some metres away. Far below them was Bootleggers Bay – the Tribe had been forbidden to enter it since the day they arrived at Little Hollows because of Barbarous Grudge and the Dreads – but the beach was veiled in shadow now and any smuggling that might be going on was drowned by the darkness.
    They galloped on and on, cob hooves hammering on the path, churning the soil to dust. Moll kicked Jinx on harder, past a field of cows, and towards the ruins of an old stone cottage that lay to the left of the path.
    Then Gryff stopped suddenly, whiskers twitching, tail flat to the ground. ‘Urrrrrrrrrrrrrr,’ he growled.
    The cobs backed up behind him.
    ‘What is it?’ Moll whispered.
    Gryff was absolutely still for several minutes, watching, listening. Then, a few moments later, he grunted and broke into a run once again. The cobs followed, but Patch was shaking his head now, tossing his mane from side to side, and Moll could feel Jinx’s withers tense.
    She leant forward and stroked her cob’s mane. ‘’S all right, Jinx. Calm down, calm down.’
    But Moll’s pulse was starting to race. From somewhere inside the ruined cottage, she could hear what Gryff must have sensed a moment earlier.
    Low, crooning hoots.

B efore anyone could react, a wave of black creatures burst out of the roofless cottage, shaking the night with grating screeches. Patch reared up in terror and Oak clung to his mane. The owls glided towards the crumbling stone wall, towards Moll and Gryff, yellow eyes burning into the night. But, as their wings opened full stretch, there came another noise.
    A slow creaking, like a very old door opening for the first time in years. Then, when the owls’ wings began to beat, there came the unmistakable sound of blades sawing against each other.
    Moll’s skin crawled with fear. Gryff’s fur tightened. But there was no time to lose. As Oak struggled to right himself on Patch, Moll drew out her catapult, placed a stone in the pouch and fired it into the throng. The stone collided with an owl and it hurtled backwards, stunned, then it regained control and circled tighter with the pack. Oak reached for his pistol and Siddy grappled for his knife.
    And the wings beat on to the sound of crunching metal.
    Jinx skittered backwards over the path and Gryff pounded his forelimbs, hissing. Then a cluster of owls broke free, yellow eyes unblinking, and dived down towards them. Moll dug her heels into Jinx’s flanks and they leapt aside on to the grass in front of the wall.
    Cracks burst out from Oak’s gun and three owls dropped from the sky, slamming on to the path with a thud. One of the owls made to grip the soil with its scaled talons, but Gryff pounced and dug his claws into its throat.
    The other owls screeched and spiralled higher in the sky.
    Then Oak looked down at the owls by Patch’s hooves and gasped. ‘Blades,’ he muttered. ‘Their wings are grinding because they’re made of
knives
not feathers!’
    Moll’s stomach lurched. Splayed out over the path was a wingspan of black blades, growing in size towards the tip, each edge serrated and sharp. She swallowed. The creaking sound they’d heard earlier before the wings began to beat had been hinges opening and blades slotting into place.
    ‘But – but the owls weren’t like this in the cove!’ Moll cried.
    Oak’s face hardened. ‘The Shadowmasks’ dark magic has deepened since the owls were here last . .