The Swarm Descends

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“D’you always talk to yourself?” she asked.

Caw pasted on a grin. “Sometimes – sorry.”

Soon they reached the river, where the giant wharves stood like hulking silhouettes. Caw had never liked the Blackwater. Perhaps it was simply because he couldn’t swim, but there was something about the impenetrable darkness of the water too, like a black abyss. Crumb told him it was so dirty that if you drank a single mouthful, you’d die within a day. He said there were stories in the Blackstone Herald about people falling in and never being seen again. Caw didn’t doubt it. He remembered Miss Wallace giving him a book once about a creature with a woman’s body and a fish’s tail that lived in the river. The water had looked blue though, rather than black and full of filth. As they walked the deserted path that ran alongside the river, he wondered if there were ferals who could talk to fish.

“You OK?” asked Selina.

Caw nodded. She was at his side, looking at him curiously.

There were boats of various sizes moored up – most looked completely abandoned, like floating carcasses butting up against the dockside. Some had names like Fair Maiden, or The Floating Rose, which seemed completely at odds with their peeling paint, or the years’ worth of weed growing up their battered hulls.

One boat, in better repair than most, was unmarked. It had a slightly sunken cabin positioned in the middle of the craft and through a glass window Caw saw a cabin piled with crates and boxes.

“Maybe we’ll find something in there,” said Selina, pointing.

Caw looked up and down the bank nervously. He couldn’t see anyone – the nearest bridge was some distance away, where cars trailed across like streaks of light.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Isn’t that stealing?”

Selina shrugged. “I guess so. Seriously, have you never taken anything before?”

Caw blushed. “Yes,” he said. When he’d been younger and more desperate. Clothes off people’s washing lines, bread from an open truck. But this seemed different. He had other ways to survive.

Selina reached into her pocket and took out something glinting on a leather strap. Caw’s eyes widened and he felt automatically inside his coat. “My watch! How did you –”

Selina gave a crooked grin. “Up there on the roof, when I touched your arm.”

Caw was impressed, and a tiny bit annoyed. “I didn’t even feel it,” he said.

“Well, that’s all I meant when I said I’ve learnt to survive,” she said. “I never took anything off people who’d really suffer.” She handed Caw back the watch and he tucked it deep inside his coat pocket.

“Come on,” urged Selina. “No one will notice – we won’t take much. Plus we don’t have to go all the way into the city.”

She was right, sort of, thought Caw. But it still didn’t feel good. He looked around again and saw the three crows had alighted nearby on another boat’s roof. Caw knew they would side with Selina. Crows didn’t have a lot of time for the finer points of human morals. He wondered what Lydia would say though.

“There’s no one around,” said Selina, obviously mistaking his gaze for fear. “It’s safe.”

She jumped on the boat, and Caw followed her. It rocked slightly under his weight. Selina went to the padlocked cabin door and took something out of her pocket, her tongue held between her teeth in concentration as she worked at the padlock.

“What’s that?” he said.

“Swiss army knife,” said Selina. “Never leave home without it.” With a click, the lock cracked open. She grinned and began to unloop a chain from the door handle. The sound was deafening against the river’s silence. “How d’you think I got through your back door?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t …” said Caw.

“Chill out,” said Selina, heading inside. Caw shot a glance around, just in case, then crept after her. She was already crouched beside one of the boxes, using another of the knife’s tools to prise open the lids. She strained for a second, and it popped open. Caw saw stacks of tins inside.

“Urgh! Mushroom soup,” said Selina. She moved on to the next. “That’s more like it!” she said. “Biscuits!” She stood up and tossed two packets to Caw. He caught them clumsily and put them in his inside pocket. At least they would make the crows happy.

“Hey, look what I found!” said Selina. She was kneeling over a crate containing some sort of round fruit. She tossed one to Caw.

He caught it, and sank his teeth into the flesh. Juice exploded in his mouth.

“Wow!” he said. “What is it?”

Selina snorted through her nose. “You’ve never had a peach before?”

Caw shook his head, taking another bite. “This is the best thing I’ve ever—”

A crow’s shriek split the air above. Selina jumped, and Caw heard Shimmer from outside. Danger! she squawked.

Caw dropped the remains of the peach and grabbed Selina’s hand. “Someone’s coming,” he hissed.

“How do you know that?” whispered Selina.

He was just beginning to creep back towards the cabin door, when he felt the boat shift again beneath his feet. Someone else had climbed on board. He pointed towards the back of the cabin. “Hide!” he said. Selina looked terrified, but did as he said, sneaking out of sight behind a stack of crates.

Caw noticed there was a smaller door to the rear of the cabin. He stabbed a finger towards it and Selina nodded. As Caw peered through the crack in the main door, he saw two figures standing on the prow.

They weren’t police – he could see that at once. One was a woman – it was hard to tell how old – wearing ill-fitting patchwork clothes of several textures and styles. She had wild hair sticking up at strange angles and her top teeth peeked out over her lip. The person at her side couldn’t have been more different. He was impeccably dressed in a white suit so bright it seemed to glow. He must have been about fifty and his slightly jowly, lined face would have been friendly but for his small, chilly blue eyes. He wore a white cowboy hat.

The woman twitched. “We-we-we know you’re in there!” she stammered in a high-pitched voice. “C-c-come out, little boy.”

Caw’s breath was building in his lungs, and he tried to let it out slowly. He knew he could probably get away with the help of the crows, but what about Selina? The woman had only said “little boy” – perhaps they didn’t even know Selina was inside. He had to cause a distraction so she could escape.

He pushed the door open slowly and stepped out. “Who are you?” he said, trying to sound unafraid.

“Allow us to introduce ourselves,” drawled the man in the white suit. He took off his hat, and beneath it his hair was white too and neatly combed.

“My name is Mr Silk, and this esteemed lady goes by the name of Pinkerton.”

“What do you want?” said Caw. He looked around for his crows, ready to give the word.

“A few birds aren’t going to help you now,” said the man.

Caw flinched. If they knew he was the crow talker, that could only mean one thing.

“You’re ferals,” he said.

The woman with the wild hair began to chuckle, and the deck came alive, shifting in many parts. Hundreds of eyes glinted up at Caw, as a swarm of rats rushed towards him.

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aw stumbled backwards as they came for him. He kicked out at one of the piled crates, sending it sliding and shattering in the path of the rats. But they just streamed over the top, unrelenting, their furry bodies rustling.

Caw reached out and snatched a wooden pole with a metal hook at the end. He swept it across the deck, scattering as many rats as he could. But soon they were on the pole as well, scurrying along its length. Caw hurled it away. He hopped up on a barrel and on to the top of the cabin, landing in a crouch. He saw that the woman’s eyes had rolled back in her head, revealing bloodshot whites that flickered as she controlled the rodents. They attacked the sides of the cabin in waves, piling on top of each other as they scrambled up and fell back, unable to gain purchase with their clicking claws.

“Do you have any comprehension,” said the man in the white suit, “of how quickly these creatures could devour you? A rat will eat until it is incapable even of moving. They aren’t picky either – muscle, bone, cartilage – it’s all the same to them.”

Caw looked around for an escape route, but the rats were everywhere. There was only the water, and he couldn’t swim. And what about Selina? Had she managed to get away through the other door yet? “Just tell me what you want,” he said.

Mr Silk spread his arms. There was something strange about the material of his suit, Caw thought, but he couldn’t work out what it was.

“Don’t play games with me, boy,” said the suited man. “It’s the stone we want.”

Caw swallowed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

Mr Silk smiled. “Come, come,” he said. “Let’s not waste each other’s time. Pinkerton?”

The woman twitched a hand and the rats went into a frenzy, piling on top of one another, forming a ramp at the side of the cabin. One managed to scramble up and on to Caw’s foot. He kicked it away.

Then, with a thought, he summoned his crows. Their black shapes gathered in his consciousness and he sent them swooping towards Pinkerton.

Screech, Glum and Shimmer dived through the air. At the same moment, Mr Silk’s jacket seemed to burst outwards. Hundreds of fluttering creatures peeled off the material and flew up to intercept the crows. Moths …

I can’t see! Glum cried out as the winged creatures enveloped him. Screech and Shimmer veered off wildly as they too were cloaked with insects.

“Let’s try again, shall we,” said Mr Silk. “Give me the Midnight Stone.”

‘D-d-do it!” cackled Pinkerton. “She wants it. She wants it.”

She? thought Caw. Who is she?

He felt a stinging pain in his ankle, and cried out. A rat hung by its teeth. Another clambered over his foot and on to his trousers, chattering horribly. The rest followed, swarming up his legs. Caw felt them sink their jaws into his flesh as one and he screamed, thrashing. More rats scrambled over his back. An endless stream. There was only one way out now. He raised himself up – fighting the weight of the squirming bodies clinging all over him – and he leapt off the boat’s edge into the freezing water below.

It swallowed him, and for a moment all he could see were bubbles in the blackness. His clothes dragged at his limbs, but then his head broke the surface and he sucked in a breath.

Panic gripped his heart. His head went under again and water choked him. He splashed back to the surface, coughing. There were rats in the river too, their bodies bobbing all around. The bank was only a few feet away, but he couldn’t reach it. He sank once more.

This time his feet touched the gravelly bottom of the Blackwater. He pushed off with his toes, lunging, just managing to grab a rope holding the boat against the bank. Sucking in rapid breaths, he heaved his sodden body out of the water.

Mr Silk was already standing on the riverside path. His moths fluttered all around him, then settled as one, forming a seamless camouflage over his jacket. Caw shot a glance at the boat and saw that the cabin’s back door was open. At least Selina had got out.

“You cannot escape us,” said Mr Silk calmly. “She wants the stone and she will have it.”

Caw hesitated. He didn’t even know what the stone was, but it had been entrusted to him by his mother. The one thing she’d left him. No way would he hand it over without a fight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. His crows were nowhere to be seen. He looked around for Selina, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. Then he felt something digging into his back. Of course! He had another weapon.

Caw threw off his sodden jacket and drew the Crow’s Beak from its harness.

Mr Silk looked at the sword calmly as he held out one arm, chivalrously, to help Pinkerton disembark. The tide of rats followed her.

“Please,” he said. “There’s no need to be uncivil.”

“Get away from him,” said another voice.

Caw spun around and saw a small shape coming along the path. His heart plummeted as he realised it was Pip, with a huge swarm of mice at his heels.

“Get out of here!” said Caw. Pip shook his head. With a thrust of his arm, he sent his mice charging past Caw towards the new ferals.

The rats met the mice in a seething battle, bodies tipping over each other with horrible sounds and squeals as the rodents bit one another. Seeing that Mr Silk had disappeared, Caw took his chance and jumped over the scrapping mice and rats, launching himself at Pinkerton. She backed away, flapping her arms, until she tripped and landed on the ground. Caw brought the tip of the Crow’s Beak to her neck.

“P-p-please …” she said. “Don’t kill me!”

“Call off your rats!” he said.

The nattering teeth and the screeching died down, leaving silence. “Pip?” Caw called out, looking behind him.