The White Widow’s Revenge

Caw dropped the flies and spun round. A stern-faced woman in a grey suit was standing in the doorway.

“I … I came to find my sister,” said Caw. “What’s happened to her?”

“Your sister?” said the woman, folding her arms. “We have no record of any siblings. Do you want to try another lie?”

Caw wondered if he should call his crows. “Sorry,” he said. “She was a close friend. I only meant she was like a sister to me.”

“Was?” said the woman. “What do you mean, was?”

“Er … that’s not what I meant,” said Caw, beginning to panic.

The woman grasped the door frame like she was intentionally blocking his exit. “The police will want to speak with you about her disappearance,” she said.

Caw could outrun her, if he could only get past. “When did she go missing?” he asked.

“Yesterday morning,” said the woman. Unexpectedly, her face softened. “Look, whoever you are, I’m Dr Heidenweiss, senior paediatric consultant on this ward. Your friend, she didn’t just get up and walk. She was in a deep coma. The authorities are treating it as a kidnap.”

Caw’s heart plunged. He was right.

“If you know anything …” the doctor continued. Something buzzed and she looked down at a small device strapped to her belt.

Caw took his chance and lurched towards the door.

“Hey, wait!” she said, grabbing at him, but he tore free and ran along the corridor.

An orderly was slowly wheeling a stretcher towards him.

“Stop that boy!” cried the doctor.

The orderly spun the stretcher round to block the corridor, but Caw vaulted over the top and carried on sprinting.

He took the left passage, then a right, then a left again. He ran under signs he couldn’t read, past wards and nurses’ stations. He found a set of stairs leading down and took them two at a time, all the way to the ground floor. As he raced into the corridor he spotted a security guard straighten up, a hand going to the taser at his side.

Caw skidded round a corner. He could hear a baby crying somewhere. There were no windows, and he didn’t know if he was heading deeper into the hospital or towards a way out until he recognised a sign. A white running man on a green background with an arrow. Exit.

Caw heard the squeak and slap of footsteps close behind him. He thumped through a set of double doors, and saw another door straight ahead with a bar across it.

Please, don’t be locked.

With his breath tearing through him, he slammed into the bar and the door swung open into the cold night air.

Come! his mind screamed.

And he felt his crows flock towards him as he ran. Moments later, they lifted him off the ground, filling the night with their raucous cries.

Despite the lateness of the hour, there were lights on in the Strickham house as Caw touched down on the lawn.

I’ll say it again, said Glum. I don’t know what you’re hoping to achieve.

Caw ignored him. He’d seen what keeping secrets from his friends did. This time he was going to be open from the start. The hard part would be getting Mrs Strickham to care. She didn’t know Selina like Caw did. To some of their allies, Selina would always be nothing more than the fly-talker’s daughter – the enemy of peaceful ferals. But if the Mother of Flies was back then everyone needed to know.

Caw was about to knock on the door when he heard hushed, angry voices.

“… in the middle of the night, with no explanation,” said Mr Strickham. “Not even a phone call to let me know.”

“Time ran away, Don,” replied Lydia’s mother. “I thought we’d discussed this before. You know I have to be on call.”

“We’re supposed to be in this together!”

Caw drew back – he shouldn’t be listening to this. He sat down on the step.

As the crows settled next to him, Caw began to worry about what had happened at the hospital. What if they had CCTV? He’d be caught on camera, his picture shared with the police …

“You going to sit out there all night?”

Caw looked up and saw Lydia’s pale freckled face framed with long red hair, leaning out of her bedroom window.

Caw smiled. It was a relief to see her looking so normal after all the weirdness.

“Can I come up?” he said.

“Use the drainpipe,” she replied.

Caw shimmied up the metal drainpipe until he was level with Lydia’s windowsill. She moved aside so he could climb into her room, and the crows hopped in afterwards.

“How did you know I was here?” he said, dusting off his knees.

“I was awake,” said Lydia, glancing down at the carpet.

Caw immediately guessed what had been keeping her from sleep. Her parents’ voices were indistinct through the floor, but they were obviously still arguing. Now Caw looked closer, he saw Lydia’s eyes were red-rimmed, like she’d been crying.

“It’s like this most nights,” she said, slumping on to her bed. “They’re both stressed out all the time. Dad’s trying to track down the prisoners with the police, and Mum is always having secret meetings. He won’t let her foxes come into the garden any more – says it freaks him out. Dad says he can protect the family without them.”

She paused, and Caw saw her face was beginning to screw up.

Maybe you should give her a hug,said Screech.

I don’t think that’s necessary,muttered Glum.

“I just want them to stop,” said Lydia. “Sometimes I wish we could go back to before Dad and I knew anything about it. They say it’s better with the truth out in the open, but I’m not so sure …”

She had been speaking into her lap, in a rush, but now she looked up at Caw. He hesitated, and she turned away, wringing her hands.

Caw? said Shimmer. She’s upset. Comfort her.

Caw shuffled forwards. He began to reach out, but Lydia suddenly stood up, putting on a brighter expression. “Anyway, what’s going on with you?”

Caw dropped his hands awkwardly. “Er … quite a lot, actually.”