The Crowmaster by Barry Hutchison

Author:Barry Hutchison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

Chapter Eleven

THROUGH THE SQUARE WINDOW

The Crowmaster moved faster than I’ve ever seen anything move before. He’d barely finished speaking when he took a sudden hop towards me, raising one knee to the level of his chest.

WHUMP! The sole of his boot crunched against my face, snapping my head back and driving me further into the bedroom. The pain came rushing in – a hot, firey ache that spread out from my nose and stabbed up into my brain.

The world around me went soft and wispy, like the inside of a cloud. Sounds became muffled and indistinct – the cawing of the crows; the giggle of the scarecrow hissing through his broken teeth; the pitter-patter of my blood as it flowed from my burst nose and dribbled to the floor.

I didn’t feel myself fall. It wasn’t until the rough hands caught me by the hair and dragged me towards the window that I realised I was on my knees. Fragments of glass tore into my legs as he pulled me across the floor. I kicked out, trying to stand up, but the one time I came close he knocked my legs from under me, forcing me back down.

‘Word is you’s somethin’ special, boy,’ he drawled, lifting me so my head was level with what was left of the window. He spat a thick wad of sticky black phlegm on to the floor by his feet. ‘Don’t look so special to me.’

Fighting through the pain, I concentrated on making the sparks come. It seemed to take longer than usual, but eventually I felt them pulsing through me, uncoiling their muscles and giving me strength. He wanted to see special? I’d show him—

KRAAK! He drove my head hard against the wooden windowsill. Another burst of agony exploded at my temple. The sparks fragmented and shot off in every direction, like startled fish in a shallow pool. I tried, but unconsciousness was closing in too quickly for me to bring them back.

I felt his spindly fingers tightening around my throat. In one movement, he lifted me clean off the ground, shaking me like a rag doll until I forced my eyes to open.

‘Not so fast there, boy. Don’t want you passing out on me or nothin’. Reckon I wants you alive when them babies of mine rip your eyes clean from your head.’

He pulled me in close enough that I could smell the damp and decay on his breath. Maggots squirmed in the hollow of one of his eyes, gnawing hungrily on the rotting cloth that covered his head. His blackened teeth jutted up like crumbling headstones in the graveyard of his mouth. There was no part of his face that wasn’t repulsive, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away.

‘Funny thing is, I ain’t supposed to kill you. I’m just supposed to hurt you. Scare you. Do whatever I gotta, to make you do them special tricks of yours.

‘Y’see, boy, he reckons that every time you do them special tricks, the closer this here world of yours comes to disaster.

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