John Lenahan - The Shadowmagic Trilogy

‘Don’t say anything, Araf,’ I said, ‘let me guess. If you pull the reins the horse stops, right?’

‘Everyone knows that!’ Fergal said.

‘Including me – now,’ I said, slowly standing.

After two tries at remounting Acorn I said, ‘Why don’t these things come with ladders?’

Araf dismounted and helped me up. Essa warned me this time and we all broke into a canter. Compared to trotting, cantering is a breeze. My back and arms fell into rhythm with Acorn. I was so delighted with myself I let out a ‘ YEE-HA! ’ I think a few trees gave me a dirty look. Fergal wanted to know why I shouted. I told him that it was the kind of thing that cowboys did.

‘Are they boys that look like cows or cows that look like boys?’ he asked.

‘Never mind, just try it – it feels good.’

He let out a pretty good ‘ YEE-HA! ’ for a beginner.

Essa pulled up next to us. ‘If you insist on letting the entire land know where you are, I’ll be leaving now.’

Fergal and I looked at each other like naughty schoolboys. When she was out of earshot we both let loose with a very quiet ‘ yee-ha ’ in defiance.

The sun was low in the sky by the time Essa decided to stop. ‘We’ll make camp here,’ she said. ‘Araf and I will double-check the maps and get some food ready. Fergal, you tend the horses. Conor, go ask for firewood.’

Everyone dismounted except me. ‘I can’t move,’ I said.

Fergal laughed and Essa told me to stop acting the fool, but I really couldn’t move. I hurt in places I didn’t even know I had places. We had ridden all day. I was exhausted. After the poplar meadow, all that I really remember of the ride was not stopping for lunch. We begged apples from a particularly unpleasant apple tree (a crab apple maybe) and ate them on horseback. Fergal complained all afternoon. I joined him, but after a while I was so tired, it was painful even to speak. The countryside was a blur after that.

I looked around to find that everyone had left. ‘I’m not kidding,’ I moaned, ‘I really can’t get off of this thing.’ I flopped forward and dropped my arms around Acorn’s neck. ‘You wouldn’t do me a favour by any chance,’ I whispered in his ear, ‘you wouldn’t mind crouching down so I could roll off?’

It was meant to be a joke but Acorn did just that! He dropped to his front knees, then his back and then laid his belly on the ground. My stirrups almost touched the ground. With a monumental effort, I hoisted my leg over and flopped face first in the grass. I lifted my head and looked at my new best friend. ‘Thank you, Acorn. I owe you one.’ He stood up and went to find his fellow horses.

My legs were killing me. All of the hairs on the inside of my thighs had been rubbed out of my skin, which was turning the colour of a Caribbean sunset. After taking my trousers down for a look, I didn’t have the strength to pull them back on. I flopped on my back and instantly fell into a dreamless sleep. It was in this unseemly position that the rest of the group found me – asleep on my back with my trousers at my ankles. Fergal told me later that he tried to wake me up but I just babbled. I didn’t open my eyes until it was dark and the smell of food hit me.

Dinner was beans around a fire. Essa ate, then walked off by herself. Araf handed me a cup of much-needed willow tea. ‘If I could get some of this tea back to the Real World,’ I said, ‘I could make a fortune.’

‘The Real World?’ Fergal said. ‘You’re from the Real World?’

Me and my big mouth. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘So that’s why you say so many stupid things.’

‘I don’t say stupid things.’

‘You do,’ Fergal said, flashing a smile that seemed to light up the place. ‘Is that why you want to see Deirdre, to help you get back?’

‘That’s part of it. I really can’t tell you the rest – sorry.’

‘That’s OK. Can you tell me about the Real World? What’s it like?’

‘Some of it is like here, only not as vivid. Compared to The Land, the Real World seems to have a thin veil of grey over everything.’

‘Sounds awful.’

‘Sometimes it is – but it’s my home, or at least was – and no one ever tried to kill me there.’

‘I didn’t try to kill you!’ Fergal protested.

‘I didn’t mean you.’

‘Who else has tried to kill you?’

‘It’s a long list.’

‘Conor,’ Araf said, and I jumped. The guy is so quiet, you forget that he is there. ‘If you have enemies, your travelling companions should know about it.’

He had a point. ‘OK, two people have tried to kill me – Cialtie and Nieve.’

‘Cialtie and Nieve,’ Araf repeated, ‘this is not good. Why do they want to kill you?’

I searched for a lie to keep them happy but couldn’t do it – I had to trust these guys. I just hoped they weren’t big prophecy fans. ‘Because Deirdre is my mother.’

For the first time, probably in history, Araf looked startled. ‘Who is your father?’

Before I could answer we heard the whinny of horses and a cry for help – it was Essa. I grabbed my stick and leaped to my feet. We found her with her banta stick drawn, standing between the horses and four wild boars. I had never seen a live boar before but I am certain that the ones in the Real World are nowhere near as big as these boys. They had Essa surrounded and looked mean. I was shocked to see Fergal and Araf walk up to them like they were puppies. One turned and charged at Fergal, four hundred pounds of flesh pushing two enormous tusks, hurtling towards him, and he just stood there, like a rabbit caught in headlights. I dived and pushed him out of the way, almost getting clobbered myself.

‘What is the matter with you?’ I screamed as we both clambered to our feet.

‘What’s the matter with me? What’s the matter with the boar?’

We circled over to Essa.

‘I have never seen anything like this,’ she said. ‘Something is very wrong with these animals.’

‘What do you normally do when a boar attacks?’ I whispered.

‘Boars don’t usually attack,’ she said. ‘This is a very bad sign.’

‘Shoo!’ Araf said, waving his hands and walking towards the biggest one of them. ‘Go home!’

I was a bit jealous that Araf was having a longer conversation with this pig than he had ever had with me. Suddenly the boar charged him. Amazingly Araf stood his ground and with the reflexes of a cat, grabbed the boar’s tusks and twisted. The two of them rolled once and came up on their feet. Araf skidded backwards then found footing on a tree root and held fast. I have never seen such a display of strength.

As I marvelled, the boar that had attacked Fergal charged back for a second shot at him. Fergal legged it into the night. I would have helped him but the remaining two animals simultaneously came at Essa and me. Now I understood why Fergal had frozen. Forget horror movies, if you really want a fright that will soil your trousers, then stand in front of a charging boar. It’s amazing how fast your mind can work when you are about to be gored. The first thing I hoped was that I was somehow related to the charging swine, then I remembered an old history lesson that mentioned how people in medieval Europe used to hunt boar. They would plant the end of a sharp stick in the ground and wait for the animal to charge. If they got it right, the boar impaled itself – if not, the hunter was the one that got run through.

This animal was almost on me. I dropped to one knee, planted the base of my stick in the ground, aimed the knob of my staff just below the neck and ducked my head. I got lucky. If I hadn’t hit directly in the centre of its chest the stick would have glanced off and I would be singing soprano in the boys’ choir. Amazingly my aim was true and that sucker was actually launched over my head! Its back hoof clipped me on the forehead as it went over, but other than that I was unharmed. My hazel stick bent but it held and pole-vaulted a very surprised creature sideways into a tree. It ran off, squealing into the night like a frightened piglet.