*Faster, faster! I order you to go faster — you’re big enough!*
The cullers are still following us, but they are straggling, weighed down by guns and ropes, just black blobs with shiny helmets in the distance. But Captain Skuldiss is something else.
*Hurry, Stag, hurry — he’s catching up!*
*I am going as fast as I can.*
Without warning, he suddenly dives off into the strip of tall trees running alongside us, the wolf-cub nearly tripping us up in his rush to follow. But these woods are harder to go fast in. As soon as we are in among the trees the stag has to slow right down to avoid low branches and slippery ditches. Everything is silent apart from a faint roaring sound in the distance. He pauses for breath on the rim of a hollow filled deep with spiky pine cones, and we all look around at the dark wood we find ourselves in.
Polly reaches over to the tree next to us and pulls hard at the serrated bark. A chunk comes away easily in her hand, and I can see it is covered in globules of thick yellow wax, all stuck together like a melted candle. I glare at her — how many times do I need to make it clear that we are not on some nature trail?
But she doesn’t glare back, and instead simply snaps off the ball of wax, sniffs it and hands it to me. It doesn’t even smell natural. It smells more like paint than a tree.
Polly nods. ‘Pine resin. A special kind of pine resin. It might come in useful, you never know.’
Then a voice rings out behind us and seems to bounce off every branch. Polly hastily shoves the resin in her pocket.
‘Oh, childrens!’ The voice is out of breath but strong and unmistakable. ‘Oh, childrens! I don’t think you understand me.’
*Be brave, soldier, do not falter now — this is the hour!* whispers the General in my ear.
Behind us I hear the crunch of crutches on pine cones.
‘Childrens! I know you are playing your famous Hide and Seek.’
Polly and I hold our breath, as the stag steps gently forward. I’m amazed at how quietly he can go when he wants to, and the wolf-cub too, occasionally twisting his head to track the crutch noise.
We push through the branches, Polly rigid with fear. I squeeze her hand tight.
We are going to escape from Captain Skuldiss.
We are finding our way out of these woods, we are going through a clearing and now we are coming to a –
A river.
Miles wide, foaming white over rocks, flowing out beyond the banks, too deep to cross, roaring and crashing inside all our heads.
A river that is our only way out.
Chapter 23
‘OK, Kidnapper,’ says Polly, looking at the heavy brown water, rushing past. ‘Where next?’
Sniffing the air, the stag mutters to himself, *And then they came to the fish-road. Just as in the dream. Extraordinary.* Then he asks me a question. *Now, tell me what you are more afraid of, Kester.*
I don’t understand.
*Tell me what you can see.*
I can see mist floating across from the other side of the bank, over a fat stretch of fast-flowing water, which seems to flow faster the more I stare at it. A fish-road, the stag called it. Not that there will be any fish left in there now. And it’s torrential. Whole branches are being carried along in a swirl of leaves and seeds, bumping over the rocks that stick out just above the surface, like the world’s smallest mountain range.
*Now look again behind you,* says the stag quietly.
Twisting round, I can see Skuldiss hopping towards us through the pine trees, grinning, with one crutch pointed at me and the stag. Behind him, two cullers are bent over double, catching their breath. Captain Skuldiss is dead calm. ‘Childrens, please, enough of this nonsense, enough of this silly running competition.’ He gestures with the crutch. ‘Hand over the animals, please.’
*And what do you fear the most?* continues the stag, as if he hasn’t heard what Skuldiss just said.
I realize what he’s suggesting.
*But we’ll drown. I mean — the cat, the cub —*
*Ha! Don’t worry about me! I am the best swimmer in my pack!* says the cub.
Captain Skuldiss fires a shot into the air.
I might have just made the most stupid decision of my life, but there’s only one way to find out.
*Now!* I yell.
The stag rears up and springs off the bank into the river. Polly lets out a long, loud scream and Sidney shrieks for her life, both howled down by the wolf-cub behind us as he too leaps into the water.
For a second, it feels like we’re flying –
First the sky and the ground are in the wrong place, and then before we know it, we are diving down –
With a loud, flat slap — everything goes brown.
Pushing up, grabbing Sidney, I gasp as we break the surface again, heaving for air, the wet muzzle of the wolf-cub panting eagerly next to me as he paddles to stay afloat.
‘I can’t believe you did that!’ Polly screams, exploding up out of the water beside me. ‘You’re going to be in so much trouble! You can’t just do things without asking anyone!’
I can’t believe we did that either. The water is freezing.
It might be moving fast, but it’s the temperature of sheer ice. Every breath you take is like a shock, your body fighting to stay alive. I look around wildly. Sidney’s head bobs just above the surface, paddling like crazy, nudged clumsily along by the cub.
*That was fun!* he gasps between strokes. *I would very much like to do that again, wouldn’t you, Cat?*
*In that case —* gasps Sidney — *perhaps next time — someone could kindly do us the favour — of tying you up in a weighted sack first.*
The wolf-cub frowns and steams ahead.
I glance back at the pine wood, the bank we jumped off — as the current sweeps us further into the centre of the icy fish-road. Captain Skuldiss hops along the edge, trying to aim his crutch at us, but we’re moving too fast for him to get a clear shot, and before he can, we sweep on and round the bend.
Our teeth chattering, we feel the stag’s powerful kicks beneath us and try to stay clear of his hoofs. I stretch my hands out across the water to Polly. The cold must have gone right through her: she’s stopped talking, her lips completely blue. We link arms together over the back of the stag, like he’s a life raft, with us drifting against his sides.
It’s beginning to get dark.
I scoop Sidney out of the water and coil her round Polly’s neck like a wet towel. Her fur is soaking and you can see patches of skin underneath. The stag’s head is barely clear of the water, his powerful legs moving beneath us as he tries to push through to the other bank across the current — an invisible but rippling line of steel that forces us back into the centre of the fish-road whenever he tries to break free.
*Stay together,* he says. *Whatever happens, we must stay together.*
There is silence along the banks as we spin and bump past them, but in the distance we can just hear a roaring noise that gets louder with every bend we take. Polly begins to loosen her grip and slump down further into the water.
‘I think I might have a little sleep,’ she says, her voice sounding blurry and confused.
*You have to keep her awake!* orders the General. *That is an order. Wake up! Wake up!* he shouts, while surfing alternately between Polly and me, nipping at our frostbitten ears.
The wolf-cub swims up alongside us. *We will easily survive this,* he boasts, panting heavily. *I can do anything. I can run the fastest around the water at the Ring of Trees! I can play Catch-A-White-Butterfly better than any of the others in my pack. I can jump the highest off a rolling log, and I once pounced on to my father’s back and held on for longer than he said any wolf had ever done. He said I was the bravest, he said …*