Storm Hound Page 7

‘She didn’t say that,’ David said, but then he flashed her a grin. ‘All right, she did say it. She thought you looked interesting, that’s all. She didn’t mean anything bad by it. I’m a vegetarian – is that OK?’

  Jessie had expected him to say no, and she grinned in return. ‘So’s Ben. Come on, you can meet Storm.’

  CHAPTER 14

  Storm was worried. For a start, there’d been no sign of the Wild Hunt in the two weeks since he’d fallen and they should surely have come looking for him by now. More than that, though, he was beginning to suspect a different kind of trouble was brewing. Everything about the human world was so strange he couldn’t tell what was considered normal here, but several times today he’d found himself jerking out of sleep, his coat prickling in alarm. And, when Jessie had let him into the garden at midday, he’d caught the scent of magic coming off the mountain. That surely wasn’t normal in the human world.

  It took a little longer to open the back-room door, but Storm managed it, wandering into the front room and jumping on to the top of the seat so he could watch the street outside. Jessie had returned by this time, yesterday. Was she going to come back at a different time every day just to vex him?

  Then he saw her coming along the road. Storm jumped up at the window, his tail wagging. He was so pleased to see her he didn’t notice an important fact: she wasn’t alone. It wasn’t until she opened the door and called his name that he caught the invader’s scent, and he stopped so fast his claws got stuck in the carpet. Whatever that creature was, he was not a boy. He might look human, with his two arms and legs and hairless skin, but his smell made Storm think of fur and blood, and there was something else too – a faint but unmissable spark of magic.

  Storm flattened himself to the floor, his whole body quivering.

  ‘Storm, what are you doing? Stop it!’ Jessie scooped him up and carried him into the kitchen. The Not-Boy kept his distance. Good. He had no business walking about on two legs, looking like a boy. He was picking up Jessie’s book of pictures now, turning the pages, and she didn’t even seem to mind.

  ‘These are good,’ the Not-Boy said. ‘I like the one of Storm.’

  ‘Thanks. I haven’t finished it yet.’ Jessie put Storm down and took his lead off its hook. ‘I usually take him for a walk in the afternoon. Do you mind? I can let him out in the garden for a while otherwise.’

  Not the garden! He needed to stay here and protect Jessie from this creature.

  The Not-Boy peered around Jessie at him. Storm crouched lower. Hide your magic, the cat had said. He kept his shadow drawn in beneath him and gazed at the Not-Boy with innocent eyes.

  The Not-Boy frowned and shook his head. ‘We can go for a walk if you like. As long as I don’t have to walk next to him. I mean, he’s cute, but I was bitten by a dog once.’ He rubbed the top of his ear.

  I’ll bite the other ear off for you if you call me cute again. What did Jessie think she was doing? Did humans have no sense, inviting strange creatures into their homes? Storm retreated under a chair, staring at the Not-Boy between the legs.

  Jessie pulled him out and clipped the lead to his collar. ‘So, what were you doing spying on Professor Ryston?’ she asked.

  The Not-Boy continued flipping through the pages of Jessie’s book. ‘I wasn’t spying on him – not specifically. Why were you spying on me?’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ Jessie said. ‘Not specifically.’

  The Not-Boy grinned and turned to the last page of the book. ‘What are all these scribbles?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She was tense suddenly, though Storm didn’t know why. He ran to the door, tugging on his leash, and she seemed relieved to follow.

  Outside, clouds drifted over the sun, so that the afternoon was bright one moment and the next everything looked grey.

  ‘I wish the weather would make up its mind what it wants to be,’ Jessie said. ‘I have a theory. Your Auntie Ceridwen is a reporter for the TV, and the professors are celebrities in disguise.’

  Ceridwen? Professors? TV? Why did humans talk in riddles?

  ‘Not even close,’ the Not-Boy said. ‘Why did your dad decide to come here? Have you ever lived in Wales before?’

  ‘I don’t think he decided – it’s just where he found a job.’ Jessie twisted Storm’s lead round her hand. ‘We came to Wales on holiday once, but that was further north. I almost got struck by lightning.’

  She hadn’t said anything about lightning before. Storm paused and sniffed at her leg. Jessie reached down to scratch his head. ‘I was only four, so I don’t remember it. We were in a cottage near Snowdon. Dad says there was this huge flash of lighting and that’s when he realized the door was open and I was missing. He ran outside and found me under the remains of a tree, half a field away. Dad will tell you all about it if you ask him. I think he’s disappointed it didn’t give me superpowers.’

  She walked on, but the Not-Boy grew quite still for a moment. ‘Maybe it did,’ he said.

  Jessie laughed. ‘Yes, I’m a superhero. And your aunt’s a detective, you’re her sidekick and the professors are bank robbers. They’ve hidden a big stash of stolen money, but they’ve forgotten where it is – that’s what Professor Ryston was looking for.’

  The Not-Boy snorted. ‘That’s even worse than your celebrity idea. Why would bank robbers come to a tiny place like this?’

  A tiny place? Storm barked. Haven’t you seen the mountains, haven’t you looked at the vast, empty sky? He walked on, puzzling. Why would anyone want to rob a bank, anyway? He’d seen river banks and they were generally made of mud. He tugged on his lead. Hey, let’s go to the river now. I like it there.

  Jessie tugged him back in the opposite direction. Storm heaved a sigh. He needed a better way of making these humans understand him. They weren’t doing a very good job of it at the moment.

  ‘This is nice,’ the Not-Boy said after a while. ‘I don’t usually get the chance to hang about town. Not with other people.’

  He sounded lonely, even for a boy who wasn’t human. How many other people felt lost in this world, with nowhere to belong?

  ‘Don’t you ever make friends?’ Jessie asked.

  The Not-Boy stuffed his hands in his pockets. ‘I used to. But as soon as I get to know people it’s time to leave. This is the first place I’ve even been to school.’

  Storm didn’t know whether that was normal or not, but he guessed it wasn’t.

  ‘What does your aunt do?’ Jessie asked. ‘It must be something important for you to live like that.’

  ‘It is – very important. She doesn’t like me talking about it.’

  Keep asking questions, Storm urged Jessie silently. He’s getting nervous. There’s something he doesn’t want to tell you. Lots of things, probably.

  He tugged her on and tried to get between her and the Not-Boy, just in case he needed to defend her, but then he caught a scent that made him stop.

  Magic, stronger than anything he’d smelled yet, even from the Not-Boy. It completely eclipsed Jessie’s tiny lightning spark. Storm charged forward, forgetting about the leash until it snapped tight. He skidded to a stop as a tall woman came round the corner.

  She was human, but not like any human Storm had met yet. She smelled like she’d been carved out of the mountains and had lived in this world for a very long time.

  The Not-Boy edged backwards. ‘Auntie Ceridwen, this is Jessie.’

  ‘You’re that girl,’ the woman said, staring.

  One step closer and Storm would spring at her. Except that he couldn’t because of the annoying leash. And he’d only reach her knees at best. Her gaze made Storm painfully aware of his smallness, how weak he was in this body. He lay down and rested his head on his paws.

  ‘I asked David to stay for tea,’ Jessie said. ‘Is that all right?’

  The woman kept staring. ‘No, I think it isn’t all right. We’re not here to socialize – David.’

  The Not-Boy flinched, but Jessie’s lightning scent sparked, growing sharp a
nd angry.

  ‘It’s not like I asked him to rob a bank with me,’ Jessie said. ‘There’s no need to be mean.’

  ‘Leave it,’ the Not-Boy whispered.

  For the first time, Storm agreed with him.

  Jessie shook her head. ‘No. You said yourself you never get the chance to make friends. It’s not fair of your aunt to stop you.’ Her voice rose, reminding Storm of how she’d shouted at the Valkyrie-Lady from next door.

  The aunt took another step forward. Storm growled. She flicked a glance at him and he shrank back, struggling to keep his shadow under control.

  ‘Jessie only started school yesterday,’ the Not-Boy said, stepping in front of her. ‘She doesn’t know anything.’

  ‘Then you don’t need to waste any more time here,’ the aunt said. ‘Come along.’

  She turned away, clearly expecting the Not-Boy to follow, but he didn’t move.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Jessie invited me for tea. You know, like friends do. I’m staying.’

  The aunt stood for a second as if turned to stone. Storm had never seen a human looking so surprised before. He wondered what the aunt would say, or whether she’d drag the Not-Boy away. Instead, she shook her head slowly and then she sighed.

  ‘You’re growing up,’ she said, dropping her gaze to the pavement. She seemed lost for a moment, but when she looked at the Not-Boy again, there was a hint of pride in her eyes. ‘All right,’ she said, ‘we’ll talk about this later. Don’t stay out too long.’

  Storm watched her walk away, embarrassed at how relieved he felt. The Not-Boy grinned. ‘Don’t mind her. She worries about me, that’s all.’ But Storm could see he was shaking.

  ‘You don’t have to stay for tea,’ Jessie told him.

  ‘No, I want to. I’m tired of her telling me what to do all the time.’ He blew out a breath of air. ‘Look, you’re right about the professors, sort of. They’re not real professors – not from Bangor University, anyway.’

  ‘Then your aunt is investigating them,’ Jessie said. She jiggled on her toes. If she had a tail, she’d be wagging it. ‘I knew it! But why did you tell her I don’t know anything? Was she worried I’d guess the truth?’

  The Not-Boy hunched his shoulders. ‘Something like that. Please, do me a favour and stop asking questions. You said before there are things in the world that can’t be explained. Just pretend this is one of them. And stay away from the professors.’

  ‘Why?’ Jessie asked. ‘Are they evil criminal masterminds?’

  The Not-Boy walked on down the road. ‘I’m not answering any more questions.’

  ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ Jessie persisted, following him. ‘You’re helping her spy on them. If you told me about it, I could help you.’ The Not-Boy didn’t answer, and she sighed. ‘All right, keep your secrets. As long as you’re not in any trouble.’

  She sounded fierce, as if she were ready to fight the Not-Boy’s aunt for him – which would be a very bad idea. Jessie had no idea about magic, she was just trying to help a friend, it seemed.

  Storm whined softly. Who were these mysterious professors and what did the Not-Boy and his aunt want with them?

  ‘Tired?’ Jessie asked, picking Storm up. He wriggled deeper into her jacket, his ridiculous puppy ears flopping over his eyes.

  Don’t worry. I’ll protect you, he promised. From Not-Boys and aunts and professors too. Even though he was tiny, even though she was the one who was carrying him when it should be the other way round, he was still a stormhound inside and, until the Hunt returned, this was his territory. He would defend it. Somehow.

  CHAPTER 15

  Professor Utterby sat at a desk in the school staffroom they’d acquired from Mr Heron. The headmaster had been most obliging once Professor Utterby had thrown the right combination of powders in his face and explained that they needed their own private workspace. A few days ago, this had been a classroom. Now, the tables and chairs had gone, replaced by three large armchairs, a coffee table in the middle of the room, a TV and a bookshelf holding a collection of books, most of which you wouldn’t find in any school.

  Professor Utterby glanced irritably at Nuffield, who was eating cheese-and-onion crisps from a giant-sized bag. ‘Do you have to crunch like that?’ he asked. ‘I have a chemistry class in half an hour and I am trying to prepare.’

  Nuffield shoved another handful of crisps into his mouth. A few pieces stuck to his moustache and wobbled there. The coffee table in front of him was covered in maps, and most of them were covered in red lines.

  ‘Where’s Ryston?’ he asked. ‘I want to ask him something.’

  ‘Year Ten are hard work,’ Ryston said, opening the door, coming in and dropping into a chair. ‘They kept asking me about Renaissance painters, like I actually know anything about art. Are you sure you cast the confusion spells on the school properly, Utterby?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure,’ Utterby said. ‘What’s the point of being a Professor of Forbidden Magic if you can’t cast spells properly?’

  ‘Never mind Year Ten,’ Nuffield said. ‘Come and look at this.’ He rummaged through the maps on the coffee table. Professor Utterby walked across to look.

  ‘I fail to see how you can find the stormhound by drawing on maps,’ he said, sneering.

  Professor Nuffield emptied the last of the crisps into his mouth. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve been checking the weather. I believe we can expect a storm, roughly here.’ He pointed to a circle he’d drawn round the top of Mount Skirrid. ‘Am I right?’

  Ryston picked up his divining rods and held them over the map. Professor Utterby watched with interest as they began to swing in circles then stopped abruptly.

  ‘Friday,’ Ryston said.

  Professor Utterby frowned. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure. This Friday, the seventh of September, starting in the early afternoon and continuing into the evening. Four o’clock looks like the peak time.’ His divining rods dipped together, swinging low to touch the map at the same place. ‘If we miss that one, the next storm isn’t for a month, at least.’

  He put down the rods and wrote 7 September, 4 p.m. on the top of the map.

  So they had until Friday to find the stormhound, or they’d have to wait another month for conditions to only be half as good. A storm, especially a storm on a mountaintop, meant there’d be lots of energy flowing about. The stormhound’s power would be at its peak. More dangerous to kill it then, yes, but the reward would be far greater.

  ‘So we have the time and the place,’ Utterby said. ‘All we need is the animal.’ They could do it, he thought, ignoring the fact that, so far, they’d only succeeded in finding places where the stormhound wasn’t hiding. At least they were ruling things out. The stormhound wasn’t hiding in the mountains, so maybe it was hiding in plain sight, here in the town.

  The notion was so ludicrous he could have laughed. What had Nuffield said? It could be a small stormhound, only the size of a Great Dane.

  Ludicrous, but worth a try. Professor Utterby returned to his desk and started gathering up half-filled glass jars of various liquids and powders. ‘I have a chemistry class to teach. After that, we will take the rest of the day off school. Start looking for parks, dog-walking groups, anywhere where dogs may assemble.’

  CHAPTER 16

  ‘Chemistry,’ Professor Utterby said, ‘is the basis of existence.’

  Jessie sat at the back of the science lab, not really paying attention. Her head felt like it was full of bricks this morning. She’d slept badly last night, dreaming of storm clouds and giant dogs again, and she’d filled another two pages of her sketchbook in her sleep. Instead of random lines, she’d drawn a tree standing in a field, slashes of rain cutting across the page.

  Her phone buzzed in her bag. She sneaked a look – a message from Mum: Sorry I didn’t answer this morning. In a meeting. I’ll call tonight. Love you xxx.

  At the front of the class, Professor Utterby began connecting up a
Bunsen burner and clearing space around it. Jessie put her phone away and nudged David.

  ‘I know what it is. The professors aren’t criminals. They’re witnesses to a crime and they’re in hiding. Your aunt is protecting them to make sure the real criminals don’t find them.’

  David pretended to be writing. Jessie grabbed his pen. ‘Don’t ignore me.’

  ‘Keep your voice down,’ David muttered.

  ‘Or what? Professor Utterby will hear us?’

  David took his pen back. ‘Everyone will hear you if you carry on like that. No, they’re not witnesses in hiding. Be quiet.’

  Professor Utterby took a marker pen out of his pocket. ‘Once people talked about the four elements,’ he said. ‘Air, earth, water and fire. Now we know there are many more – one hundred and three at the last count. Everything is made of chemical elements. This table, your books, your pens and pencils – in fact, all of you – are made of chemicals. Once you can identify those chemicals you can start to control them, and that means you can control anything.’

  He drew a star around the burner in five confident strokes on the desk.

  ‘What’s that for?’ a dark-haired girl asked. Prisha, Jessie remembered.

  Professor Utterby snapped the cap back on the pen. ‘A precaution. If you go to university, you’ll learn a lot of advanced science like this.’

  It didn’t look like science. Jessie sat forward, watching as Professor Utterby lit the burner and laid out jars, packets and bottles in a careful semi-circle around it.

  ‘We’ll begin with the common elements,’ he said, opening a packet. He had everyone’s attention now. ‘Watch closely, please. This is what happens when you add sea salt to flame.’ He looked up, his gaze sweeping the class. ‘Needless to say, do not try any of these experiments at home. Higher elemental chemistry is very dangerous and has unpredictable results. Especially when you use fire.’

  He sprinkled a few white crystals over the burner. The flame turned yellow for a few seconds, fizzled and settled.