The Weirdstone of Brisingamen and The Moon of Gomrath. Alan Garner

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       CHAPTER 3

       MAGGOT-BREED OF YMIR

      “And what did owd Selina Place want with you?” said Gowther at tea.

      “Selina Place?” said Colin. “Who’s she?”

      “You were talking to her just before you came in, and it’s not often you see her bothering with folks.”

      “But how do you know her? She seemed to be a stranger round here, because she stopped to ask the way to Macclesfield.”

      “She did what? But that’s daft! Selina Place has lived in Alderley for as long as I con remember.”

      “She has?”

      “Ay, hers is one of the big houses on the back hill – a rambling barn of a place it is, stuck on the edge of a cliff. She lives alone theer with what are supposed to be three dogs, but they’re more like wolves, to my way of thinking, though I conner rightly say as I’ve ever seen them. She never takes them out with her. But I’ve heard them howling of a winter’s night, and it’s a noise I shanner forget in a hurry!

      “And was that all she wanted? Just to know how to get to Macclesfield?”

      “Yes. Oh, and she seemed to think that because we’d only recently come to live here we’d want a lift. But as soon as she saw you she jumped into the car and drove away. I think she’s not quite all there.”

      “Happen you’d best have a word with yon,” said Bess. “It all sounds a bit rum to me. I think she’s up to summat.”

      “Get away with your bother! Dick Thornicroft’s always said as she’s a bit cracked, and it looks as though he’s reet. Still, it’s as well to keep clear of the likes of her, and I shouldner accept ony lifts, if I were you.

      “Now then, from what you tell me, I con see as how you’ve been a tidy step this afternoon, so let’s start near the beginning and then we shanner get ourselves lost. Well, you place wheer you say theer was such a grand view is Stormy Point, and the cave with the hole in the roof is the Devil’s Grave. If you run round theer three times widdershins Owd Nick’s supposed to come up and fetch you.”

      And so, all through their meal, Gowther entertained Colin and Susan with stories and explanations of the things they had seen in their wanderings, and at last, after frequent badgering, he turned to the subject of the wizard.

      “I’ve been saving the wizard till the end. Yon’s quite a long story, and now tea’s finished I con talk and you con listen and we needner bother about owt else.”

      And Gowther told Colin and Susan the legend of Alderley.

      “Well, it seems as how theer was once a farmer from Mobberley as had a milk-white mare …

      “… and from that day to this no one has ever seen the gates of the wizard again.”

      “Is that a true story?” said Colin.

      “Theer’s some as reckons it is. But if it did happen it was so long ago that even the place wheer the iron gates are supposed to be has been forgotten. I say yon’s nobbut a legend; but it makes fair telling after a good meal.”

      “Yes,” said Susan, “but you know, our father has always said that there’s no smoke without a fire.”

      “Ay, happen he’s getten summat theer!” laughed Gowther.

      The meal over, Colin and Susan went with Gowther to take some eggs to an old widow who lived in a tiny cottage a little beyond the farm boundary. And when they were returning across the Riddings, which was the name of the steep hill-field above Highmost Redmanhey, Gowther pointed to a large black bird that was circling about the farmyard.

      “Hey! Sithee yon carrion crow! I wonder what he’s after. If he dunner shift himself soon I’ll take my shotgun to him. We dunner want ony of his sort round here, for they’re a reet menace in the lambing season.”

      Early in the evening Colin, who had been very taken with the legend of the wizard, suggested another walk on the Edge, this time to find the iron gates.

      “Ay, well I wish you luck! You’re not the first to try, and I dunner suppose you’ll be the last.”

      “Take your coats with you,” said Bess. “It gets chilly on the top at this time o’day.”

      Colin and Susan roamed all over Stormy Point, and beyond, but there were so many rocks and boulders, any of which could have hidden the gates, that they soon tired of shouting “Abracadabra!” and “Open Sesame!” and instead lay down to rest upon a grassy bank just beneath the crest of a spur of the Edge, and watched the sun drop towards the rim of the plain.

      “I think it’s time we were going, Colin,” said Susan when the sun had almost disappeared. “If we don’t reach the road before dark we could easily lose our way.”

      “All right: but let’s go back to Stormy Point along the other side of this ridge, just for a change. We’ve not been over there yet.”

      He turned, and Susan followed him over the crest of the hill into the trees.

      Once over the ridge, they found themselves in a dell, bracken and boulder filled, and edged with rocks, in which were cracks, and fissures, and small caves; and before them a high-vaulted beech wood marched steeply down into the dusk. The air was still and heavy, as though waiting for thunder; the only sound the concentrated whine of mosquitoes; and the thick sweet smell of bracken and flies was everywhere.

      “I … I don’t like this place, Colin,” said Susan: “I feel that we’re being watched.”

      Colin did not laugh at her as he might normally have done. He, too, had that feeling between the shoulder blades; and he could easily have imagined that something was moving among the shadows of the rocks: something that managed to keep out of sight. So he gladly turned to climb back to the path.

      They had moved barely a yard up the dell when Colin stopped and laughed.

      “Look! Somebody is watching us!”

      Perched on a rock in front of them was a bird. Its head was thrust forward, and it stared unwinkingly at the two children.

      “It’s the carrion crow that was round the farm after tea!” cried Susan.

      “Talk sense! How can you tell it’s the same one? There are probably dozens of them about here.”

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