The Swarm Descends. Jacob Grey
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hand. “Someone’s coming,” he hissed.
“How do you know that?” whispered Selina.
He was just beginning to creep back towards the cabin door, when he felt the boat shift again beneath his feet. Someone else had climbed on board. He pointed towards the back of the cabin. “Hide!” he said. Selina looked terrified, but did as he said, sneaking out of sight behind a stack of crates.
Caw noticed there was a smaller door to the rear of the cabin. He stabbed a finger towards it and Selina nodded. As Caw peered through the crack in the main door, he saw two figures standing on the prow.
They weren’t police – he could see that at once. One was a woman – it was hard to tell how old – wearing ill-fitting patchwork clothes of several textures and styles. She had wild hair sticking up at strange angles and her top teeth peeked out over her lip. The person at her side couldn’t have been more different. He was impeccably dressed in a white suit so bright it seemed to glow. He must have been about fifty and his slightly jowly, lined face would have been friendly but for his small, chilly blue eyes. He wore a white cowboy hat.
The woman twitched. “We-we-we know you’re in there!” she stammered in a high-pitched voice. “C-c-come out, little boy.”
Caw’s breath was building in his lungs, and he tried to let it out slowly. He knew he could probably get away with the help of the crows, but what about Selina? The woman had only said “little boy” – perhaps they didn’t even know Selina was inside. He had to cause a distraction so she could escape.
He pushed the door open slowly and stepped out. “Who are you?” he said, trying to sound unafraid.
“Allow us to introduce ourselves,” drawled the man in the white suit. He took off his hat, and beneath it his hair was white too and neatly combed.
“My name is Mr Silk, and this esteemed lady goes by the name of Pinkerton.”
“What do you want?” said Caw. He looked around for his crows, ready to give the word.
“A few birds aren’t going to help you now,” said the man.
Caw flinched. If they knew he was the crow talker, that could only mean one thing.
“You’re ferals,” he said.
The woman with the wild hair began to chuckle, and the deck came alive, shifting in many parts. Hundreds of eyes glinted up at Caw, as a swarm of rats rushed towards him.
Caw reached out and snatched a wooden pole with a metal hook at the end. He swept it across the deck, scattering as many rats as he could. But soon they were on the pole as well, scurrying along its length. Caw hurled it away. He hopped up on a barrel and on to the top of the cabin, landing in a crouch. He saw that the woman’s eyes had rolled back in her head, revealing bloodshot whites that flickered as she controlled the rodents. They attacked the sides of the cabin in waves, piling on top of each other as they scrambled up and fell back, unable to gain purchase with their clicking claws.
“Do you have any comprehension,” said the man in the white suit, “of how quickly these creatures could devour you? A rat will eat until it is incapable even of moving. They aren’t picky either – muscle, bone, cartilage – it’s all the same to them.”
Caw looked around for an escape route, but the rats were everywhere. There was only the water, and he couldn’t swim. And what about Selina? Had she managed to get away through the other door yet? “Just tell me what you want,” he said.
Mr Silk spread his arms. There was something strange about the material of his suit, Caw thought, but he couldn’t work out what it was.
“Don’t play games with me, boy,” said the suited man. “It’s the stone we want.”
Caw swallowed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
Mr Silk smiled. “Come, come,” he said. “Let’s not waste each other’s time. Pinkerton?”
The woman twitched a hand and the rats went into a frenzy, piling on top of one another, forming a ramp at the side of the cabin. One managed to scramble up and on to Caw’s foot. He kicked it away.
Then, with a thought, he summoned his crows. Their black shapes gathered in his consciousness and he sent them swooping towards Pinkerton.
Screech, Glum and Shimmer dived through the air. At the same moment, Mr Silk’s jacket seemed to burst outwards. Hundreds of fluttering creatures peeled off the material and flew up to intercept the crows. Moths …
I can’t see! Glum cried out as the winged creatures enveloped him. Screech and Shimmer veered off wildly as they too were cloaked with insects.
“Let’s try again, shall we,” said Mr Silk. “Give me the Midnight Stone.”
‘D-d-do it!” cackled Pinkerton. “She wants it. She wants it.”
She? thought Caw. Who is she?
He felt a stinging pain in his ankle, and cried out. A rat hung by its teeth. Another clambered over his foot and on to his trousers, chattering horribly. The rest followed, swarming up his legs. Caw felt them sink their jaws into his flesh as one and he screamed, thrashing. More rats scrambled over his back. An endless stream. There was only one way out now. He raised himself up – fighting the weight of the squirming bodies clinging all over him – and he leapt off the boat’s edge into the freezing water below.
It swallowed him, and for a moment all he could see were bubbles in the blackness. His clothes dragged at his limbs, but then his head broke the surface and he sucked in a breath.
Panic gripped his heart. His head went under again and water choked him. He splashed back to the surface, coughing. There were rats in the river too, their bodies bobbing all around. The bank was only a few feet away, but he couldn’t reach it. He sank once more.
This time his feet touched the gravelly bottom of the Blackwater. He pushed off with his toes, lunging, just managing to grab a rope holding the boat against the bank. Sucking in rapid breaths, he heaved his sodden body out of the water.
Mr Silk was already standing on the riverside path. His moths fluttered all around him, then settled as one, forming a seamless camouflage over his jacket. Caw shot a glance at the boat and saw that the cabin’s back door was open. At least Selina had got out.
“You cannot escape us,” said Mr Silk calmly. “She wants the stone and she will have it.”
Caw hesitated. He didn’t even know what the stone was, but it had been entrusted to him by his mother. The one thing she’d left him. No way would he hand it over without a fight.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. His crows were nowhere to be seen. He looked around for Selina, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. Then he felt something digging into his back. Of course! He had another weapon.
Caw threw off his sodden jacket and drew the Crow’s Beak from its harness.
Mr Silk looked at the sword calmly as he held out one arm, chivalrously, to help Pinkerton disembark. The tide of rats followed her.
“Please,” he said. “There’s no need to be uncivil.”
“Get away from him,” said another voice.
Caw