Dead Wolf

Without another word, I raced from The Hollows in search of Pen.



Although Pen and I had been friends for almost a year, we had yet to visit each other’s homes. Pen said that she lived with her father, who distrusted the Vampyrus very much after they had wrongly arrested and imprisoned his brother for a crime he didn’t commit. So she doubted I would be very welcome. I had been reluctant to invite Pen to my home deep within The Hollows because of my mother. My mum continued to flip between periods of darkness and light, although the darkness had consumed her more of late than the light. She would continue to sit for long periods – for days sometimes – and when things were very dark, for weeks at a time.



My younger brother Paul continued to spend his time with his head in books and had taken to reading the teachings of the Elders. He had fallen in with some others, who went twice weekly to worship the Elders at one of their many temples. Both Paul and I ran errands, cooked, and cleaned our tiny hollow as our mother sat, day after day, staring at the wall, waiting for the day my father would return. I guess, like Pen, although we rarely spoke about our parents, didn’t really have a relationship with them. Pen had never said as much, but as she spent most of her time alone or with me in the forest, I guessed she had few friends of her own, and there was little to keep her at home. Just like Pen, my only true friend was her, and as for my mother...well...I would often sneak into her room and sit at her feet. I would gently stroke her hand or smooth down her hair, but mostly I sat in the shadows and watched her as she stared at the wall. Her eyes were like blank saucers, unmoving and unblinking. Her skin was white and hard-looking, as if chipped from alabaster and framed by a torrent of greying-black hair that hung dully around her shoulders. I loved my mum, but hated her all at the same time. I loved the memories I had of her from my younger years but detested the way she was now. In a strange way, I missed her, although she was always at home and never went anywhere.



Although I didn’t pray myself, I would often ask Paul to pray that our mother would just snap out of it, pull herself together and get over the loss of my father. I resented the fact she seemed unable to do this for the sake of Paul and me.



I found Pen by the edge of the great lake.



Desperate to catch my breath, I reached her, and bending forward, I drew large mouthfuls of air into my lungs. When I could breathe again, I looked at her and said, “Pen you’ve got to come into The Hollows with me.”



“When?” she asked looking a little startled.



“Right now,” I wheezed, still out of breath from my run.



“I can’t right now,” she said, turning and heading back along the shore towards the Fountain of Souls.



“You must,” I called after her.



“I have to get home. It’s getting late and father will come looking for me,” she said back over her shoulder.



“Don’t you want to see what Oz looks like?” I said.



At once, Pen stopped in her tracks. Then turning to face me, she said, “Really?”



I nodded with a smile. Pen smiled back, and then the smile faltered.



“I can’t,” she said.



“It has to be tonight or never,” I explained.



Pen looked back over her shoulder at the flood of red water that raced upwards into the darkening sky.



“It won’t take very long,” I said. “Just an hour or two.”



Pen looked back at me, and for the first time since meeting her, that bright yellow light which shone from her eyes looked weaker somehow. She looked afraid.



I held out my hand towards her. “There is nothing to be scared of,” I said. “The Hollows are quite safe. I’ll look after you.”



“It’s not The Hollows,” she said, taking another quick look back at the fountain.



“What then?” I asked her.



Then, turning to face me again, she smiled, took my hand and said, “I haven’t got long.”



Chapter Nine



Murphy



Holding Pen’s hand tightly in mine, I led her down into The Hollows. Every so often I would snatch a quick sideways glance and smile at the look of awe on her face. She seemed delighted by the bright green luminous moss that covered the walls and ground. She wondered up at the intricate network of tree roots that hung out of the sky. I heard Pen take a sharp intake of breath as she marvelled at the thousands of twinkling stalagmites which hung high above us, like stars in a jet-black sky.



“It’s so beautiful,” Pen whispered.



With a smile on my face, I snuck her through the maze of tunnels and towards the great caves where I hoped Burton would be waiting for us. When other Vampyrus came close, I held back in the shadows, clutching Pen’s hand. It was forbidden for a Vampyrus to bring a Lycanthrope down into The Hollows, unless they were prisoners, brought below ground to face trial before the Elders. When they had passed on their way, we would sneak from the shadows and continue deeper into The Hollows. At last we came across the entrance to the great caves.



They were in darkness, and I wondered if Burton had not tricked me in some way. With my heart racing, and hoping that I wasn’t going to look a fool in front of Pen, I led her into the caves. It was then I saw a dim little light shining in the middle of the cave. Someone had lit a small fire, and its flames cast orange and red shadows across the walls. Pen gripped my hand as I led her towards it, the sounds of our footfalls echoing all around us.



Then, as we drew near to the light, I could see that two small chairs had been positioned next to each other, facing the widest wall in the cave.



There was a small table, too, and on it there had been placed a large clay bowl which was full of cooked Bree seeds. They smelt sweet –just like the popcorn the humans ate above ground. Next to the bowl had been placed two bottles of Inferno Berry juice. Now, that was rare and expensive stuff, only drunk by the richest Vampyrus. It was rumoured to come from a far-off land, and was therefore in short supply.



Guessing that it was Burton who had lit the fire, supplied the two chairs and the food and drinks, I looked at Pen and said, “Relax, take a seat.”



I handed one of the bottles of drink to Pen and sat down beside her, the bowl of warm Bree seeds nestled between us. Pen took a handful and popped it straight into her mouth.



“It’s delicious,” she mumbled.



“I know,” I smiled, seeing her happy face in the firelight.



Then, as if a whole new world was opening up before us, a huge square of light flickered onto the cave wall before us, and moving pictures started to play across it. From the moment Dorothy appeared onscreen and made her way up the dusty road to her aunt’s farmhouse, Pen was transfixed. Occasionally, I would glance sideways at Pen and watch her hand delve into the bowl of Bree seed. As if on autopilot, her hand would blindly find her mouth and she would sit and munch on the Bree seed with her mouth wide open, not daring to take her eyes off the moving pictures. During various parts of the film, Pen would sing along as she quickly learnt the words to the songs.



“You’re off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz. You’ll find he is a whiz of wiz! If ever a wiz there was!” Pen sang with a wide grin on her face.



I couldn’t recall a time I had seen Pen so enthralled by something. When the Scarecrow appeared, I began to sing along. “I could while away the hours, conferrin’ with the flowers, consulting with the rain. And my head I’d be scratchin’ while my thoughts were busy hatchin’, if I only had a brain…”



Together we sat and held hands as we continued to burst into song throughout the length of the moving pictures. Pen’s eyes and whole being appeared to sparkle. It made me happy to see my friend enjoying herself so much. As Dorothy finally made her way home to Kansas and the moving pictures stopped moving, I turned to Pen and said, “Did you enjoy it?”



“Did I enjoy it?” she gasped, her eyes bright and full of wonder. “Wouldn’t you just love to wake up one day and find yourself in a place like Oz?”



“Well, yeah I suppose,” I replied thoughtfully.



“Wouldn’t it be great to be able to leave your old life behind, to go on an adventure? The only difference between me and Dorothy is, I wouldn’t be rushing to get back home quite as quickly as she was,” she said, looking at me.



“Why not?” I asked.



Then, jumping up so quickly that the bowl of Bree seed shot from her lap, Pen cried, “Oh no!



I should be home already. I will be in trouble.”



Turning on her heels, and knocking her chair flying, she raced from the cave.



“Pen, wait!” I called after her. I raced towards the entrance to the caves, then stopped.



Looking back over my shoulder and into the gloom, I said, “Thank you, Burton!”



“You’re welcome,” his voice echoed back at me from out of the darkness.



I caught up with Pen in the tunnels, and sensing her fear and dread, I took hold of her hand again as we raced up and out of The Hollows.



Above ground it was night, although I didn’t know exactly how late. We raced through the fields and towards the forest. At the treeline, Pen stopped and let go of my hand.



“Thank you, Jim,” she whispered, as if fearing she might be overheard by someone or something.



“For what?” I whispered back.



“For keeping your promise and showing me the magical moving pictures,” she smiled at me, but I could still see that fear in her eyes.



“What are you scared of?” I asked, keeping my voice low.



Then as if in answer to my question, I heard the sound of a deep booming howl coming from deep within the forest.



“That’s what I’m scared of,” she said, looking into the slices of darkness which stood between each tree trunk.



“Who is it?” I breathed, pulling her close.



“What is it?”



“It’s my father,” she whispered, looking at me. “I have to go.”



Then, without warning, she took my face in her hands, and kissed me. Her lips felt soft, and her tongue even softer as she slipped it into my mouth. Unable to resist the urge, I kissed her back, wrapping my arms around her. I pulled her so close it was like we had become one. My heart roared inside my chest, my legs felt weak, and my head spun. We kissed long and slowly, then fast and passionately, as she ran her fingers through my untidy hair. In truth we only stood by the edge of the forest and kissed for no more than mere moments, but to me it felt like forever.

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