The Black North by Nigel McDowell Read Free Book Online Page A

enough –
    Oona was grabbed by the ankles and pulled down into the earth all the way to the waist before her hands snatched and closed around a table leg. She looked for her knife – where was it to slice with once more? She dropped, was pulled down further, and no help came from the jackdaws as they whirled in a frenzy, but then someone not expected: her grandmother rose suddenly rushing from her chair, trailing web, unhooking and heaving the pot of boiling water and pouring it into the hole. Such a scream from below! And at the first hint of release Oona was kicking and crawling away, finding her knife for protection. But the screaming from beneath didn’t stop – the Kavanagh cottage shook with it, the Briar-Witch racing underground, sending cracks across walls, the whole place already broken enough by the dispell but beginning to lean, the whole home folding in like a fist.
    Merrigutt shouted, ‘Out! Get out before the whole place comes down!’
    The jackdaws left in as fast a flood as they’d come out through the door. But Oona stayed. Her granny Kavanagh was on the floor and Oona took her by the hand and said, ‘We have to go, Granny! Quick now, we have to leave!’
    But the old woman wouldn’t budge. She was just as still and near-silent as she’d been in her armchair a minute before, one hand still held tight to her breast.
    â€˜Leave now, my girl!’ said Merrigutt, landing on Oona’s shoulder. ‘Out! We’ve no time for waiting!’
    â€˜I won’t go anywhere without her,’ said Oona, and then she tried to lift her grandmother, but still no movement. Oona decided:
I won’t leave if she won’t. If this world falls in then this is where I’m supposed to be. Mammy died here, so it’s where I’ll die too, if I have to
.
    â€˜Oona,’ said Merrigutt, ‘we have to escape!’
    â€˜Go, child.’
    It was her grandmother’s voice then, and it had no edge, no spite. Instead only a special gentleness Oona hadn’t heard for so long. Granny Kavanagh said again, ‘Go, child. But take this – you must have it … it’s your turn now …’
    And finally her grandmother released what she’d held so tight: Oona felt something pressed into her own hands, a small knot of material with something small and round and hard at its heart. Oona hadn’t time (or much care) to open or examine and she said just, ‘Granny, please, you have to come with me or –’
    â€˜No,’ said her grandmother, ‘not
have to
any more. It was too much for me, child. It’s a burden, but I know you can bear it. And this is the most important thing – don’t lose sight of the light. Keep looking for it. Just do as I should’ve done and didn’t – don’t let the light go. Don’t just look for the dark.’
    The roof began to fall in fragments and night sky to show through –
    â€˜Oona!’ cried Merrigutt. ‘Now or not at all!’
    Granny Kavanagh pushed Oona from her. And Oona went, the gift that her grandmother had given safe in her hands.

13
    â€˜Keep going now! Don’t hang about!’
    The jackdaw was on Oona’s shoulder, telling. Oona didn’t wish to but had to move. The bundle her grandmother had pressed on her in one hand, knife in the other, she fought on into the travesty of former forest. And any time Oona tried to look behind to see what had become of the Kavanagh cottage Merrigutt scolded, ‘No! Don’t look back! Briar-Witches never move on their own so you can bet last Tuesday’s washing that if there’s one about then there’ll be many! Keep going on now, we’ll head for the –’
    The jackdaw stopped, like she’d been struck dumb.
    â€˜What?’ asked Oona. ‘What is it?’
    The bird’s head tilted, slowly like she was listening, her yellow eyes growing. And then Merrigutt said,