The Crossing of Ingo

Rainbow pats Treacle protectively. “How can you say that? He’s got the best temperament. You could put a cat up on him and he wouldn’t shy.”

“And he gallops exactly like his name.”

“Don’t listen to her, Treacle.” We both laugh. Conor comes out with a clutch of mugs in one hand and a plate of biscuits.

“No more cake?” I ask.

“No more cake.” He smiles at Rainbow. “You’re growing your hair.”

I hadn’t noticed, but he’s right. Rainbow’s bright hair is curling down over her neck now. She blushes a little. “I just felt like it,” she says, looking down at the mug of tea Conor hands her, rather than at him.

“It’s nice,” says Conor.

“But where’s Sadie?” asks Rainbow abruptly.

“She’s gone to stay with Granny Carne for a while,” I answer, not looking at Rainbow.

“We’ve had a call from family upcountry,” says Conor.

“Mum’s second cousin,” I put in quickly. “They want us to go up there for half term, and maybe stay on for a week afterwards, because of Mum being away. We’re going to write to our schools for permission to miss the time. But we can’t take Sadie because they live in a flat.”

Too much information, I realise as the words gush from my mouth. Second law of lying: don’t put too much icing on the cake. Silence falls, an awkward silence.

“In Plymouth,” I blurt out.

Rainbow looks from me to Conor. Her face is puzzled. Her blush returns and deepens. “I didn’t know you had any family in Plymouth,” she says. “Have you been up to stay with them before?”

“Yes,” I say.

“No,” says Conor at the same moment.

Another silence falls. Rainbow turns away and starts to fuss over Treacle. “There, boy, good boy, steady there…” Treacle looks surprised but smug, while Rainbow gulps down her tea, even though it must be too hot.

“They’re not well,” I blunder on. “Our cousin and his family, that is. That’s why they want us to go, to help look after them…”

“I’ve got to get going,” Rainbow mutters into her mug. “Kylie will want Treacle back…”

Kylie Newton wouldn’t care if you took Treacle out until the middle of next week, I think, but I say nothing. I have the feeling that Conor’s got to sort out this mess, not me. The silence drags on painfully. Rainbow puts her mug down on a flat stone, fumbles for her hard hat and puts it on.

“Rainbow,” says Conor.

“Yes?” Her voice isn’t cold – Rainbow’s voice could never be that – but it’s constricted.

“Rainbow, I’m sorry. That wasn’t true, what we said.”

“I know.”

“Saph and I do have to go somewhere. But we can’t tell you any more than that. We can’t tell anyone. If our schools think we’re with family there won’t be any trouble.”

“You didn’t have to lie to me,” Rainbow says.

Neither of us knows what to say. Colour rises under Conor’s brown skin. He frowns and his lips tighten. I hope Rainbow doesn’t think he is angry with her. He’s furious with himself, and with everything that’s forced him to lie to Rainbow. “I was stupid,” he says quietly.

“Yes, you were.” Rainbow is frowning too. Elvira would havemelted into sympathy by now, I think. But Rainbow’s not like that. She thinks a lot of Conor but she expects a lot from him too. They take no notice of me. In fact they’ve probably forgotten that I’m here. Rainbow is trying to work out what can have made the Conor she knows behave so much out of character.

Suddenly she gets it. Light breaks on her face. “Is it to do with your father?” she asks. I follow her thoughts. She believes that maybe we have been right all along. Dad is still alive, and we have managed to trace him. Conor hesitates. He can’t – no, he won’t – lie to Rainbow any more, but he’s got to give her some kind of explanation. It would be cruel to leave her thinking that we don’t trust her.

“In a way it is,” he says carefully.

Another flash of insight. “You’re going where he is, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” says Conor. You can see how relieved he is to be telling the truth. “But we can’t tell anyone else. It’s vital. People could get hurt.”

“Is it dangerous, then?” It’s an odd question, given all that Rainbow doesn’t know. It’s as if she understands what is going on by instinct.

“It could be. But Saph and I haven’t got any choice.”

This is where I have my own moment of inspiration. “Granny Carne knows,” I say.

Rainbow’s expression clears. “She knows where your father is?”

“Yes.”

“And she hasn’t tried to stop you?”

I think of Granny Carne standing in the lane a long time ago, keeping us from Ingo, giving us blackberries that tasted of Earth. She stopped us then, but time has moved on. We’re not strangers to Ingo any more, or visitors who can plunge beneath the skin, surf a few currents and come out unchanged. We’ve become part of it, even Conor, whether we want to be or not. Our future is tied to Ingo’s. That’s why Granny Carne won’t stand in our way this time, and why she can’t give us any protection. I see her in my mind’s eye, her red scarf flying in the wind, her feet planted on the Earth, her far-seeing eyes fixed on me. One of her hands is lifted. I don’t know if she’s greeting me or saying farewell. Her other hand rests on the hoary grey of a granite standing stone, while the adders – her nadron, the children of Earth – twist and twine at her feet. The vision is so powerful that I almost hear the snakes hiss.

I come back to myself. Rainbow is watching me curiously.

“Granny Carne hasn’t tried to stop us,” Conor confirms. “She’s the only one who knows where we’re going, though. You won’t tell anyone else, will you, Rainbow? Not even Patrick?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

Rainbow unhitches Treacle’s reins from the post and leads him away from the wall. He stops, placid and foursquare as ever. She puts her foot into the stirrup, and springs on to Treacle’s broad back. Her legs are way too long for him, but Rainbow is light and no burden.

“That animal’s more like an armchair than a horse,” Conor says, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Rainbow remains serious.

“You said it might be dangerous.”

“Yes,” says Conor.

“You will—” Rainbow clears her throat. “You will come back, won’t you?” The light is behind her, shining through the bright rim of hair beneath the hard hat. Conor puts his hand on Treacle’s neck. He is serious, too, as he gazes up at Rainbow.

“I’ll come back,” he says. “I promise you that.”

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_bb6f3dbe-0aa0-5179-9bab-c46cb96c2eeb)

Faro was right. When the time comes, we can no more resist the force that is pulling us towards that Assembly chamber than we could stop the blood flowing through our veins. The Call isn’t just one note blown on a conch: it’s a summons. Ingo wants us, needs us, and demands that we come now.