Chapter Eighteen

It was a novelty to actually be going to rugby practice, rather than trying to practise his chime child abilities with Jacob. Callum walked out of the changing rooms into the crisp air. The sun had barely made an appearance all day. Still, he felt he could use the exercise and the fresh air – it might inspire him, doing something he actually knew he was good at. And it might fend off the growing worry that if they didn’t get some clues soon, something terrible could take them all by surprise.

‘Come on, Scott,’ one of his team-mates called. ‘First time you’ve been to practice in days and you’re already running late.’

But Callum saw the familiar figure of Melissa striding towards them as he headed to the pitch.

‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ he said. He jogged over to where Melissa was standing, her cheeks rosy from the wind whipping across the open field.

‘What’s up?’ Callum asked.

‘I’ve been thinking about this whole Black Annis situation,’ Melissa said in a low voice, her eyes shining. ‘I have an idea.’

Callum raised an eyebrow suspiciously. Something told him that whatever Melissa’s idea was, it was going to involve something unorthodox at best, and downright dangerous at worst.

Still, he’d take anything if it meant they’d get things moving.

‘Go on then,’ he said, folding his arms.

‘Not here,’ Melissa replied, looking over Callum’s shoulder at a couple of the boys who were watching them talk. ‘But basically, I think we’ve been too passive, just waiting for answers. What we need to do is seek them out.’ She smiled mysteriously.

Callum frowned.

‘Hmm, OK. I’ll look forward to hearing this grand scheme later then.’

‘Yeah, I’ll see you at the cottage,’ Melissa said. Then she turned and with a tense wave, hurried back across the field.

As Callum jogged back over to the other boys they laughed and made kissing noises. Callum shook his head and smiled. They were totally off the mark, but Callum decided it was better that they had the wrong end of the stick than knew what he and Melissa were really talking about. He just hoped that Melissa’s idea would be the thing to get their search started again. Before it was too late.

*

It is the turning point of the night. The dark, quiet moment when one day becomes the next while mortals sleep. Black Annis crouches alone in her lair. The ancient earth around her, which was once a welcoming home, now seems like a taunting prison. Black Annis is weak with hunger, and very close to breaking her cover and striding out into the world once more to claim another child.

She is almost salivating at the thought. Her talons flex and stretch anxiously. But, suddenly, something draws her out of her reverie. Her gnarled nose twitches. There is a smell wafting down the tunnel and into her lair. It is faint, but Black Annis’ sharp senses still pick it up. Could she be deceived, or is that . . .?

She stands up, her skirt of dried skins rustling around her bony legs. She doesn’t quite dare to hope, but the smell grows stronger now, closer. Black Annis scrambles up the tunnel towards the entrance to her lair. She sniffs the air fervently, her teeth clattering together involuntarily at the thought of a meal straying so near, at so opportune a moment.

She hesitates only for a second before emerging from the ground and out into the open. The air outside is filled with the smell of the child, but she cannot see it at first. Then Black Annis’ eyes alight on a boy. He is a prime specimen, plump, his blue eyes wide. Black Annis’ own eyes narrow – what luck would gift her such a prize? She looks left and right, but can see nothing. Suspicion takes hold at the edge of her mind, but Black Annis’ desire is powerful to resist. She springs towards the boy, and with one deft movement she pierces his heart. Her teeth sink deep into the child’s neck and blood oozes instantly from the wound. His body falls limp; death is immediate.

Euphoria floods through the demon as she clutches the corpse. She sucks at it with fevered hunger. Delicious.

Somewhere in the haze of her desperate feeding, Black Annis realises that she must take the boy down to her lair. The circumstances of the boy straying so close are making her uneasy. However, as she moves to return to the entrance of her lair in the ground, she butts against what feels like an invisible wall. She moves back, and again bumps into some unseen barrier. She is unable to move more than a step in each direction. She lets go of the boy and his body slumps to the ground. Her pale eyes narrow, baffled. What magic is this? Panic rises in the demon’s bony chest.

Black Annis whirls around as she hears a voice behind her.

‘Do not resist, Black Annis,’ a man says calmly. ‘You should conserve your energy.’ The hag sees four other humans step out of the shadows to stand beside him. She can feel that it is their united power that maintains the invisible cage.

‘Release me,’ Black Annis hisses. She pushes furiously against the unseen barrier, clawing at it with her sharp talons. But the snare is strong – too strong for her to break through in her weakened state. The man shakes his head and taps his chin as he regards her. Black Annis sees a large ring on the man’s finger; a magical totem. She glares at him as he speaks again.

‘Black Annis, we seek your assistance. In return for your help, we can supply you with all the flesh you could desire. And you will not have to lift one beautifully manicured finger.’ The man pauses, and smiles. ‘In fact, you won’t be able to.’

Though Black Annis does not understand all of his words, she knows the man is pleased with himself. The woman next to him, the one with hair the colour of blood, laughs alongside him.

‘Black Annis obeys no one,’ the crone snarls.

‘Oh, but you will. You see that we have brought you a sacrifice? And we can bring you many more. Fret not, we shall take care of everything. This will all be for the greater good.’

The man clenches his fist, and the invisible barrier surrounding Black Annis tightens – she feels it pressing in on her. She writhes and struggles, but to no avail. Anger and frustration well up inside her, but Black Annis eventually stops resisting. She must chose her moment . . .

‘Good. That’s settled then,’ the man says, his words coming through gritted teeth. He turns to the other members of his coven. ‘Take her inside,’ he commands. Black Annis feels her feet leave the ground as the group raises their hands, and their human magic begins to drag her back down inside her own tunnel to her own lair. The stench of their adult bodies sullies the place Black Annis once called home.

The woman with the hair of blood turns to her leader.

‘I’ll get to work then, shall I?’ she says with a slow smile. The man nods, and the woman turns and heads back up through the tunnel scratched out by Black Annis’ bare hands.

‘Now,’ the man says, turning back towards the crone. ‘You must finish your meal.’

They dump the stiffening body of the boy they had lured Black Annis with at her feet. The boy’s blood still drips down Black Annis’ chin. She is too hungry to protest. Swiftly, silently, she goes about ripping into his cooling flesh until nothing remains but his clean, white bones and a beautiful pure pelt.