The wagon door swung open. Gryff’s head shot up but, seeing Oak stride in, he turned away and settled back to sleep. Oak hung a dripping hat on the door hook and smiled at Alfie. ‘How’re you feeling?’
Out of the corner of her eye, Moll could see that Alfie’s body was tensed. ‘Bit better,’ he said stiffly. He looked down at his chafed hands, then mumbled, ‘Thank you.’
Oak smiled. ‘It’s that cob of yours you’ve got to thank.’
‘You’ll want me gone from here. I understand—’
‘We’d like you to stay with us, Alfie – until you’re better. After that, you can go as you choose.’ Oak nodded towards the window. ‘You’ll be safe in the camp and there’s food and water for you here which you’ll be hard pushed to get any place else without money.’
Alfie reddened. ‘But you’re never going to trust me. None of your camp are.’
Oak shook his head. ‘Your past with Skull isn’t important. It’s the present that counts and what you decide to do with it. And, from what Moll tells me, you can run, you can ride, you can pick locks – and you can be trusted.’
Alfie shifted under the covers. ‘But I’m not even a real gypsy . . .’ He fiddled with his jay feather earring and Moll and Siddy listened with bated breath. ‘Skull told me no one knew who my father was, but my mother worked up at Tipplebury Farm, looking after the cobs: feeding and watering them, grooming them, breaking them in . . .’ He looked towards the window. ‘Apparently she died giving birth to me and Skull said that, when he was passing the farm to buy supplies not long afterwards, he offered to take me in and raise me if I looked after his cobs when I was older.’ Alfie sighed. ‘I suppose the farm didn’t want to waste time raising an orphan like me so they just agreed.’
Oak shook his head. ‘I don’t believe the farm would have handed over a baby to someone like Skull.’
Alfie shrugged. ‘That’s what he said happened.’
Moll looked at Alfie for several seconds but, when he caught her eye, she looked away. She didn’t know Alfie well, but she knew him enough to know that what he’d just said was a pack of lies. Even if Skull had told Alfie that’s what had happened all those years ago, it was obvious Alfie didn’t believe a word of it. And, what was more, Moll was almost certain now that the reason Alfie wanted the amulets so much in the first place had something to do with him finding out the truth behind his beginning.
Oak shook his head. ‘Whatever happened back then, you’re in our camp now, Alfie, and we’ll look after you.’ He leant forward, rubbing his hands together. ‘But, until we work out where this well is, we need to keep you safe. Skull’s planning a raid – my boys’ve seen his gang lurking by the river, working out the layout of our camp.’
Alfie took a deep breath. ‘They’ll bring the hounds.’
Siddy nodded. ‘But Cinderella Bull’s been working on something for those beasts.’
It was true. Moll and Siddy had seen her late the night before, kneeling by the fire before a pot of bubbling liquid. And, although they had only watched from their wagon steps, they’d seen Cinderella Bull turn her head up to the trees and whisper to their spirits.
‘They’re planning more than a raid,’ Alfie said quietly. ‘I heard them before I escaped. They’ll perform the Dream Snatch again only it’ll be stronger now they know Moll’s name.’
‘We’re ready for that,’ Oak said. ‘We’ll never give Moll up.’
‘But it won’t be like before. It’s not just the chants and the drums and all that stuff she shouts about in her nightmares.’ Moll looked at Alfie questioningly. ‘I heard you back in the pit,’ he explained. Moll blushed. ‘All that isn’t anything compared to what’s coming. Skull’s summoning something – something I think he’s used before . . . on Moll’s parents.’
Gryff opened one eye and his fur prickled. Oak, Moll and Siddy stiffened.
‘I heard them talking about something called a Soul Splinter.’
‘Why d’you think they used that on my parents?’ Moll asked.
Alfie swallowed. ‘Because they’ve been saying it’s a weapon that kills without a trace. Skull’s calling it from somewhere – from its master, he said.’
Siddy shifted. ‘You think the Master of the Soul Splinter is one of those Shadowmasks Mellantha talked to you about?’
Oak nodded. ‘The Soul Splinter . . . Things are making more sense now. You said that Mellantha told you that the witch doctors performed a hex that tore away all their shadows?’
Alfie and Moll nodded.
Oak rubbed his jaw, deep in thought. ‘Gypsies, travellers, wandering people, we believe our souls are part of our natural surroundings – wild and free. That when we walk through the forest, the heath, the fields or the moors our souls walk beside us, as a shadow.’
‘So souls and shadows are sort of the same thing if you think like that,’ Alfie said.
Siddy gasped. ‘So the Shadowmasks – when they tore away their shadows – they—’
‘—tore away their souls,’ Oak finished for him. ‘And this Soul Splinter, perhaps that’s what tears away the souls of living people?’
Gryff growled.
There was another peal of thunder and into its roar Moll whispered, ‘If the Soul Splinter killed my parents, I’m going to rip it apart.’ She clenched her fists. ‘Then I’m going to do the same to Skull.’
As if the rain was waiting for a reply, the pattering on the wagon roof stopped for a second.
Oak looked at Alfie, Moll and Siddy. ‘We’re stronger than the Soul Splinter and we’ll find the amulets before Skull and his Shadowmasks get anywhere near us.’
And, as quickly as it had stopped, the rain burst into life again, swallowing their voices and hammering on to the roof in thundering thrusts.