the boulders of helmet slope, which had them slipping and sliding. They learned not to grasp on to things suddenly, for there were sharp swords and daggers everywhere. The snouts of howitzers and field guns were waiting to trap an unwary foot and the fins of rockets could slice open a knee just as effectively as a razor. They climbed well, keeping to hanging valleys and chimneys, which offered good handholds and gentler slopes, keeping clear of sheer drops down on to sharp shells. Deep dips full of bullets were waiting to suck under any climber who tried to cross them, for they were as unstable as quickmire.
The higher they climbed the colder it became, until they had to be careful that their hands did not stick to freezing metal. Colder, and more gloomy. Here the air was as still as death. There was the sense – they both felt it – of something watching and waiting. Something ugly and malicious, holding back for the right moment in which to attack.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Chloe, shivering with the cold and perhaps for some other reason too. ‘Can you give me your hand?’
Alex reached out and grasped his sister’s wrist, pulling her up on to the shelf of small black bomb cases.
‘Yep, I’m OK,’ he replied, his breath coming out as steam. ‘Flippin’ cold, sis. I’ll be glad when we start to go down.’
There were snow patches on some piles of weapons.
‘Nearly at the top, I think. Every time we go over a ridge, there seems to be another one waiting, but the peak can’t be far now.’
‘I hope you’re right …’
At that moment Katerfelto launched its attack. It came sweeping down from above as a dark flapping sheet with ragged edges. There were holes for its mouth and eyes, and its claws were stretched out before it. It screamed as the wind screams, high and shrill. The suddenness of his coming, the speed at which he swept upon them, terrified the children. They turned to run as this giant shapeless fiend rushed down at them. Chloe fell and went skidding down a slope of bombs, her jeans snagging on the fins. Alex kept his feet but his eyes were wide with terror as he jumped from tank barrel to turret, from submarine conning tower to aircraft wing. Katerfelto chased him, herded him back to where his sister was nursing a bruised arm.
‘Look out, Alex,’ she screamed. ‘It’s just behind you.’
Katerfelto whirled around them. Now it was in its favourite form, that of a charlatan dressed in a long black gown with a black square cap. It swirled in ever-decreasing circles. The cap flew off and away somewhere and its hair became a spreading net. It flew wild about its head and they saw they would soon be caught in the folds of this flailing trap. Alex dropped down beside his sister, wanting to comfort her, but having to battle with a heart that raced in his chest. What was he to do? Where was all his ingenuity now that deadly danger stared them in the face?
Alex whipped off his pack and looked inside. A torch. Would that do? A penknife. Absolutely not. There were weapons all around them they could use if they wanted to. But Alex sensed that to pick up a sword or a gun would be giving in to the mountain. Perhaps that’s what it wanted, for them to acknowledge they could not do without weapons of war? And it would be futile – just as war was futile – because the creature was not substantial.
He continued to scrabble around in the bag. The compasses were absolutely useless of course.
‘It’s coming closer,’ said Chloe, her fingers gripping her palms so hard they were white and bloodless. ‘Closer and closer.’
And indeed Katerfelto was tightening its circle. Soon the black hem of its cloak was flicking over the faces of the children. They could not feel it, but they could sense its coldness. It was like being whipped across the eyes by a freezing wind. Horror built in the minds and hearts of the two children. They wanted to jump up and run. They wanted to flee from this terrible force that moved upon them with such vicious certainty.
‘Close your eyes,’ ordered Chloe. ‘Maybe if we don’t look at it?’
Both of them closed their eyes tightly, and Alex tried to imagine that Katerfelto was not there. But even so the coldness of Katerfelto’s breath swept through Alex’s mind.