Rat tapped him on the knee, interrupting his thoughts. “You’ve got a dragon on the committee?”
“Yeah, of course we have.” Col had been in the Society for so long he’d forgotten that the equal role played by the mythical creatures might seem strange to someone from outside.
“Now, let’s have the report on how our young members are doing,” declared Dr. Brock, making way for the next speaker.
Col’s grandmother, a fine-looking woman in her seventies with curly white hair, stepped into the center of the circle. She read from her report, running through the progress made by the young companions in each of the four companies. Reaching the pegasi riders, she raised her voice a notch and said:
“Our chapter has again won the gold medal at the inter-chapter games held this summer in Scotland. Skylark and Col Clamworthy were top in their age category.” Applause broke out. Col gave Rat a sheepish smile; Skylark tossed his mane smugly.
After a pause to let the noise die down, Mrs. Clamworthy continued. “And last but not least, our universal has continued her training, concentrating this year on a technique called the hauberk.” She halted and looked over to the door. “Have I got that right, Connie?”
“Yes,” Connie said briefly, keeping her head down.
“Would you like to tell us what it is?” Mrs. Clamworthy coaxed her.
Connie reluctantly stood up and said in a voice that barely carried to the listeners, “The hauberk is a way for a universal to assume the protective powers of a mythical creature.” She stopped, twisting her fingers nervously together. She wished everyone would stop smiling at her, thinking she was so wonderful, when she knew she didn’t deserve their approval.
“That sounds very interesting,” Dr. Brock encouraged her. “Can you give us an example to help us understand?”
Connie was still looking down. “I’ve tried it with Argand, the golden dragon. When I work with her, I gain her hide’s protection from heat and fire.”
“Excellent. Thank you for explaining it to us.” Dr. Brock’s tone may have been light, but his brow was creased as if he sensed something was amiss.
The universal resumed her seat.
“Now on to less happy matters,” announced Dr. Brock, turning his attention reluctantly away from Connie. “I must update you on the latest intelligence regarding Kullervo.”
Silence met this announcement. Many looked at the universal to see how she would react to the name of the creature who hunted her. But not Col. He closed his eyes.
Skylark breathed softly in his ear.
“I’m all right,” Col gasped, leaning his forehead against Skylark’s white cheek.
Rat nudged him. “Who’s Kullervo?”
“A shape-shifter—our enemy. I’ll tell you later.” Col didn’t feel like talking about Kullervo just now. He had been the shape-shifter’s slave last year—the wounds were still raw.
Alone by the door, Connie gripped her hands together to stop them from trembling. She didn’t want to hear what Kullervo was doing, either, and yet it was the only piece of information that really mattered that evening—the real reason why she was here. If he were nearby, if the shape-shifter had slipped back into England, it might explain—might excuse—whatever she had done.
Dr. Brock cleared his throat.
“Kullervo’s weather giants have attacked Japan, Malaysia, and Vietnam in recent months. Some five thousand human lives have been lost and up to a hundred thousand people displaced by flooding. Tolls have also been heavy among other creatures. One of the last habitats of the three-clawed dragon has been destroyed, as well as the mountain home-land of the moyang melur—a half-human, half-tiger creature.”
An angry buzz ran around the room. Dr. Brock held up his hand. “Our Trustees, with the exception of the representatives of the Elementals, have gone to the region to lead the counter-attack. I’ll keep you all posted on any developments.”
A hand rose from among the ranks of the Sea Snakes (otherwise known as the Company of Sea Creatures and Reptiles).
“Who’s that?” muttered Rat, his eye caught by a girl with auburn hair and freckles.
“Jessica Moss, a companion to selkies,” replied Col.
“What are—?”
“Changelings—seals in the sea, people on land. Arran, her companion, is that guy next to her.”
“Yes, Jessica?” Dr. Brock asked, looking at her over the rim of his glasses.
“Why haven’t the Elementals gone?” asked Jessica. “I would’ve thought they are needed to help control the weather giants.”
Dr. Brock nodded. “You’re right, but unfortunately one of the Trustees, Frederick Cony, was admitted to the hospital last week and is unfit to travel. His companion, Gard the rock dwarf, remains with him at this critical time. Any more questions?”
The room was silent.
“Right,” said Dr. Brock with an effort. “Let’s move on to the final item on the agenda. I’ll ask Evelyn to update us on matters closer to home.”
Connie’s aunt stepped forward. Since she’d started going out with Mack, she’d taken to wearing all-black biker’s gear, and tonight she had her dark hair tied up in a silver band. Her voice was deep and firm as she commanded the room’s attention.
“It won’t have escaped your notice that it’s crunch time for global warming—we’ve got to change our ways or our environment will spin out of control. I’m sure you’ll agree that we can’t sit back waiting for others to provide solutions. Each one of us has to take action.” Col nodded his agreement; he guessed that Evelyn also felt frustrated by the apathy in the Society. “We on the committee of the Chartmouth Chapter want to propose to you that we build the first wind farm in the region, here on Masterson land.”
A murmur of interest rippled around the room as Evelyn beckoned Mr. Masterson forward. The farmer patted his companion, a great boar, and then struggled into the center carrying a model of what looked like a big three-bladed fan.
“Here you are,” he said. “We’re thinking of eight of these on the crest of the hill by the pine plantation.”
“That’s right outside my house!” murmured Rat.
“I’ve already put in for planning permission,” continued the farmer, “but I’d like to know what you all think before we commit ourselves to the scheme.”
There was a flash of gold, and the dragonet Argand flitted out from the ranks of the Sea Snakes. Connie’s special companion creature, the golden dragon had grown over the year to the size of a Labrador with the wingspan of a hang-glider. Rat gasped with admiration as she zoomed around the model, making its blades revolve slowly in the down-draft from her wings.
“You don’t mean these exactly, do you, Clive?” prompted Dr. Brock.
“No, no.” The farmer laughed. “I mean eight of these, one hundred and fifty feet tall.”
Now that was a different matter altogether. Argand veered off into the rafters in alarm. Col felt Skylark shudder. He raised his hand on his mount’s behalf.
“But won’t they ruin the farm—mess up the sky for winged creatures?” Col asked. Other members muttered their agreement, particularly from the eastern side of the room.
“That’s why I wanted you all to see it,” Mr. Masterson said. “It won’t be an easy decision, but that hill’s ideal for a wind farm. Even on the stillest days, it catches the sea breeze. I’m eager to see this go ahead.”
Evelyn noted the concerned faces of the members. “You need time to think about it, I know,” she said. “Many of you are upset at the idea of change—only last night, my banshees were screaming at me to stop it. But we do need renewable, non-polluting ways of making electricity. We can’t ignore reports of how the small degree of warming we’ve experienced in the last decade has taken its toll. Our creatures are suffering. The frost wolf is already in a steep decline….”
Rat gripped Col’s arm. “That’s my creature she’s talking about?”
Col nodded.
“In decline—what does that mean
?”
“I think she means that numbers are falling—it might be near extinction—”
“No!” growled Rat. “We can’t let that happen—I can’t let that happen.” He sat forward, now hanging on every word of the debate.
Down on the floor, Evelyn was still talking. “We can’t turn the clock back to a time before human industrialization. And we can’t produce energy without some cost to the environment—I think the inconvenience caused by a wind farm is an acceptable price to pay in the long run.”
“Yeah,” muttered Rat, fists clenched on his knees.
Skylark shook his mane angrily. Col could sense the pegasus’s annoyance that humans were once more encroaching on what territory was left for the creatures.
“I know it’s not a perfect solution, but you don’t have to decide now,” Evelyn continued. “The planning decision won’t be made until December, so there’s plenty of time to give us your views. Perhaps some of you might even like to get more involved,” she concluded acidly, casting a significant look at the High Flyers and returning to her seat.
Sensing the dissension building in the room, Dr. Brock rose to his feet once more to calm everyone. “I think that’s enough talking. It’s time to enjoy ourselves. Refreshments for herbivores have been laid out in the lambing shed next door. Everyone else is invited to the bonfire in the paddock.”
The crowd began to thin as members drifted away to the feast, still arguing furiously over the merits of the new idea. Skylark trotted off to the lambing shed to chew the matter over with the other pegasi.
“Come on, let’s get Connie,” said Col, pulling Rat to his feet.
They clambered over the bales to where Connie was sitting with her arm around the golden dragon.
“That’s an amazing beast you’ve got there,” said Rat, looking enviously at the dragonet.
“Yes, she is,” Connie replied, her hand rhythmically caressing Argand’s golden scales. The dragonet was purring, wisps of smoke curling from her snout. Rat stretched a hand out cautiously and tickled Argand under the chin; he was rewarded by a purr of pleasure.
“Coming for something to eat?” asked Col.
“No. I’m not hungry,” Connie replied.
Col hunkered down beside her. “Can we talk?”
Connie glanced up at Rat. “Not now.”
“So when?” Col pressed.
“I dunno. Soon.”
“You’ve got to get help.”
Rat’s ears pricked up. “Help with what?”
“It’s nothing,” Connie said swiftly, giving Col a warning look.
“Do you know where your aunt is?” asked Rat, his eyes searching the crowd of creatures around the bonfire outside. “I want to talk to her about the wind farm.”
Connie was glad he had changed the subject. “Look for Mack and you’ll find her.”
“Will do.” Rat turned to leave, dragging Col after him. “Coming, Connie?”
“Maybe later,” she said.
Connie watched them disappear into the crowd. As soon as the two boys were out of sight, Connie slipped out the other way and bicycled home alone.
3
Frost Wolf
On the day after the meeting, Connie was sitting on a bench in the schoolyard, waiting for her friends Jane and Anneena to come out of their class. She was trying to concentrate on the ordinary things around her, rather than worry about the night of the storm, but found it impossible. She felt isolated from everyone. Normal life seemed less real than her memories of the beach. Col and Rat were not far away, standing by the school gates in the middle of a gang of boys. Shouts of laughter rose from the group, but Connie had no desire to find out what they were up to—she didn’t dare go near Col, in case he tried to get her to talk again.
“Hey, there you are!”
Connie turned and spotted Jane waving as she and Anneena made a beeline for her. Jane, her blonde hair scraped back in a ponytail, was carrying a pile of serious-looking books. As they got nearer, Connie noticed that Anneena had a thread of gold running through her two long black braids; not quite in breach of school uniform rules—but nearly.
That was Anneena all over, thought Connie—pushing the boundaries, taking matters into her own hands.
“Hi there.” Anneena slid onto the bench next to Connie. “How was biology?”
“Good.” It was actually her best subject. Connie offered her friends a mint from a tube she took out of her pocket. “I like the hair. What did Mrs. Stephens make of it?”
Anneena laughed. “Oh, you know. She made a bit of a fuss at registration, but when I pointed out that it wasn’t banned in the uniform code, she backed down.” She looked over to Rat, who was now climbing onto the narrow top bar of the gate. He balanced there, then threw back his head and howled like a wolf. “What’s he up to?” she asked.
“Something he shouldn’t be,” said Jane matter-of-factly, flicking through her books.
“I’ve no idea.” Connie frowned, catching Col’s eye as he glanced over. He shrugged helplessly. Rat had always been a bit out of control—Col was powerless to stop him from celebrating his assessment in his own way.
“Are you okay, Connie?” Jane asked, looking up.
“Hmm?”
“Is something wrong?”
Connie shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”
Anneena now joined in. “You look tired. Not worrying about your aunt and Mack, are you?”
“No, it’s got nothing to do with them.”
Anneena pounced on this unspoken confession. “So there is something!” She paused, as if expecting Connie to blurt out her secrets immediately and seemed rather offended when Connie remained silent. “You can trust us, you know.”
“I know I can. But really, it’s nothing.” Except for the fact that she’d raised a storm last weekend and still didn’t know how she’d done it.
“Connie,” Jane said gently, laying a hand on her wrist, “Annie and I did wonder if—now don’t get mad when I say this—if all those society meetings might be the problem.”
Connie felt a flutter in her stomach. “What do you mean?”
Anneena took over again. “Well, we’ve been thinking about it for a while now—since your Aunt Godiva suddenly ran off to save the Brazilian rainforest—and we’ve been wondering what that society really gets up to. You’re so secretive about what you do—Col’s the same—and now Rat went and joined.” Rather unhelpfully, Rat decided at this exact moment to repeat his werewolf impression. Anneena smiled. “I think I’ve made my point. You can’t blame us for wondering.”
Connie groaned inwardly. She hated deflecting questions about the Society; Col was much better at this kind of conversation.
“So tell us. Is the society…well, is it safe?”
Connie gave a strangled laugh.
Anneena frowned. “Look, you’ve got to admit that the people you mix with are a bit freaky—apart from Col, of course.” They all looked across at Col, the most popular person in their year, who was shaking his head in despair as Rat loped along the wall.
“They’re not so strange once you get to understand them,” said Connie quietly.
Connie was saved from further questions by the intervention of the headmaster. Mr. Conrad burst from the school and rushed down the drive, his black jacket flapping behind him.
“Uh oh,” said Anneena.
The boys scattered like crows, leaving Rat perched on the top of the gate with Col trying to help him down.
“Sean Ratcliff, what do you think you are doing?” bellowed Mr. Conrad. “Climbing on school buildings is strictly forbidden!”
Connie could see Col tugging surreptitiously at Rat’s foot in an attempt to get him down. He managed to topple Rat so that he half-fell, half-slithered to the ground—on top of the teacher.
“Sorry!” muttered Col as he offered Mr. Conrad a hand to get up.
“And what was your part in this, Col Clamworthy?” The headmaster turned on Col as he brushed himself down
. “Why was Sean howling like that? Did you put him up to it?”
Col said nothing, but looked down and scuffed his feet in the dirt.
“Come with me to my office, the pair of you.” Mr. Conrad spun on his heel and swept back indoors; Col trailed despondently behind him, but Rat sauntered along as if there was nothing he liked better than being told off by the headmaster.
With a tiger of a mother like Rat’s, Connie thought, the headmaster must seem like a kitten.
“Have you ever met anyone like Rat?” Anneena exclaimed, her voice tinged with admiration for his disregard of authority.
“Nope,” Connie admitted.
“Just as well. I don’t think Chartmouth could cope with two of them,” said Jane.
Next class, Col and Rat arrived late. Rat took the seat next to Connie, dislodging her math book onto the floor as he spread out his stuff. He scooped up her book and grinned.
“What happened?” Connie whispered.
“Oh, nothing much,” Rat said airily.
“Detention today!” growled Col from the other side. “And I’ll miss soccer practice.”
“Forget it,” Rat continued cheerfully. “There’s more important things to think about than that. Here, Connie, read this!” He pushed a letter from the Society in front of her.
“What!” exclaimed Connie, quickly hiding it on her lap before Mrs. Stephens noticed. “You can’t bring this kind of thing into school! What if someone finds it?”
Rat shrugged. “They won’t. No one’s interested in what I get up to.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” muttered Connie, remembering Anneena’s and Jane’s questions. All the same, she couldn’t resist sneaking a look at the letter when Mrs. Stephens had her back turned.
“See—my mental’s coming this weekend,” said Rat, pointing to the last paragraph.
“Mentor,” Col corrected quietly.
“Yeah—Erik Ulvsen—from Norway.” Rat still wasn’t bothering to lower his voice. “And he’s bringing a frost wolf with him.”