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“Well, I wish he’d say so,” said Jenna edgily.
So Jenna stayed in the wheelhouse and watched the canoe make steady progress, unerringly picking its way through the maze of ditches, passing by all the other islands and heading straight for theirs. As it came closer Jenna noticed that something about the figures looked horribly familiar. The larger figure in the front of the canoe had the concentrated look of a tiger stalking its prey. For a moment Jenna felt sorry for the prey until, with a jolt, she realized who that was.
It was her.
It was the Hunter, and he had come for her.
34
AMBUSH
As the canoe drew closer the watchers in the chicken boat could see the Hunter and his companions clearly. The Hunter sat in the front of the canoe paddling at a brisk pace and behind him was the Apprentice. And behind the Apprentice was a…Thing. The Thing squatted on the top of the canoe, casting its eye around the marsh and occasionally making a grab for a passing insect or bat. The Apprentice cowered in front of the Thing, but the Hunter appeared to take no notice. He had more important things to think about.
Jenna shuddered when she saw the Thing. It scared her almost more than the Hunter did. At least the Hunter was a human, albeit a deadly one. But what exactly was the creature squatting on the back of the canoe? To calm herself she lifted the Shield Bug off her shoulder, where it had been sitting quietly, and holding it carefully in the palm of her hand, she pointed out the approaching canoe and its grim trio.
“Enemies,” she whispered. The Shield Bug understood. It followed Jenna’s slightly trembling finger and locked its sharp green eyes, which had perfect night vision, on to the figures in the canoe.
The Shield Bug was happy.
It had an enemy.
It had a sword.
Soon the sword would meet the enemy.
Life was simple when you were a Shield Bug.
The boys let out the rest of the Shield Bugs. One by one, they undid each Preserve Pot lid. As they took each lid off, a Shield Bug leaped out in a shower of green gloop, sword at the ready. With each bug Nicko or Boy 412 pointed out the rapidly approaching canoe. Soon fifty-six Shield Bugs were lined up, crouching like coiled springs on the gunnels of the chicken boat. The fifty-seventh stayed on Jenna’s shoulder, fiercely loyal to its Releaser.
And now all those on the chicken boat had to do was wait. And watch. And that is what, hearts thumping in their ears, they did. They watched the Hunter and the Apprentice change from shadowy shapes into the dreaded figures they had seen months earlier at the mouth of the Deppen Ditch, and they looked just as nasty and dangerous as they had then.
But the Thing remained a shadowy shape.
The canoe had reached a narrow ditch that would take it past the turning into the Mott. All three watchers held their breath as they waited for it to reach the turning. Maybe, thought Jenna, clutching at straws, maybe the Enchantment is working better than Aunt Zelda thinks and the Hunter can’t see the cottage.
The canoe turned into the Mott. The Hunter could see the cottage only too well.
In his mind the Hunter rehearsed the three steps of the Plan:
STEP ONE: Secure the Queenling. Take prisoner and install in canoe under guard of accompanying Magog. Shoot only if necessary. Otherwise return to DomDaniel, who wished to “do the job himself” this time.
STEP TWO: Shoot vermin, i.e., the witch woman and the Wizard boy. And the dog.
STEP THREE: A little bit of private enterprise.
Take the Young Army deserter prisoner.
Return to Young Army. Collect bounty.
Satisfied with his plan, the Hunter paddled noiselessly along the Mott, heading for the landing stage.
Boy 412 saw him drawing near and motioned Jenna and Nicko to stay still. He knew any movement would give them away. In Boy 412’s mind they had now progressed from Watch and Wait to Ambush. And in Ambush, Boy 412 remembered Catchpole telling him as he breathed down his neck, Stillness Is All.
Until the Instant of Action.
The fifty-six Shield Bugs, lined up along the gunnels, understood exactly what Boy 412 was doing. A large part of the Charm with which they had been created had actually been taken from the Young Army training manual. Boy 412 and the Shield Bugs were acting as one.
The Hunter, Apprentice and the Magog had no idea that very soon they would be part of an Instant of Action. The Hunter had tied up at the landing stage and was busy trying to get the Apprentice out of the canoe without making any noise and without the boy falling into the water. Normally the Hunter would not have cared in the slightest if the Apprentice had fallen in. In fact, he might have given him a sly push if it hadn’t been for the fact that the Apprentice would have made a loud splash and no doubt done a lot of squawking in the bargain. So, promising himself that he’d push the irritating little so-and-so into the next available cold water when he got the chance, the Hunter had silently eased himself out of the canoe and then pulled the Apprentice up onto the landing stage.
The Magog slunk down into the canoe, pulled its black hood over its blind-worm eye, which was troubled by the bright moonlight, and stayed put. What happened on the island was none of its business. It was there to take custody of the Princess and to act as a guard against the marsh creatures during the long journey. It had done its job remarkably well, apart from one irritating incident that had been as much the fault of the Apprentice as anything. But no Marsh Wraith or Brownie had dared approach the canoe with the Magog perched on it, and the slime the Magog extruded had covered the hull of the canoe and caused all the Water Nixies’ suckers to slip off, burning them unpleasantly in the process.
The Hunter was pleased with the Hunt so far. He smiled his usual smile, which never reached his eyes. At last they were here at the White Witch’s hideaway, after a grueling paddle across the marsh and that wasteful encounter with some stupid marsh animal who kept getting in the way. The Hunter’s smile faded at the memory of their meeting with the Boggart. He did not approve of wasting bullets. You never knew when you might need the extra one. He cradled his pistol in his hand and very slowly and deliberately loaded a silver bullet.
Jenna saw the silver pistol glint in the moonlight. She saw the fifty-six Shield Bugs lined up ready for action and decided to keep her own bug beside her. Just in case. So she put her hand over the bug to quiet it. The bug obediently sheathed its sword and rolled into a ball. Jenna slipped the bug into her pocket. If the Hunter carried a pistol, then she would carry a bug.
With the Apprentice following in the Hunter’s footsteps as he’d been instructed, the pair crept silently up the little path that led from the landing stage to the cottage, passing the chicken boat on its way. As they reached the chicken boat the Hunter stopped. He had heard something. Human heartbeats. Three sets of very fast human heartbeats. He raised his pistol…
Aaaeeeiiiigh!!
The scream of fifty-six Shield Bugs is a terrible scream. It dislocates the three tiny bones inside the ear and creates an incredible feeling of panic. Those who know about Shield Bugs will do the only thing they can: stuff their fingers in their ears and hope to control the panic. This is what the Hunter did; he stood completely still, put his fingers deep into his ears, and if he felt a flicker of panic, it did not trouble him for more than a moment.
The Apprentice of course knew nothing about Shield Bugs. So he did what anyone would do when confronted with a swarm of small green things flying toward you, waving scalpel-sharp swords and screeching so high that your ears felt like they would burst. He ran. Faster than he had ever run before, the Apprentice hurtled down to the Mott, hoping to get into the canoe and paddle to safety.
The Hunter knew that, given a choice, a Shield Bug will always chase a moving enemy and ignore a still one, which is exactly what happened. To the Hunter’s great satisfaction, all fifty-six Shield Bugs decided that the enemy was the Apprentice and pursued him shrilly down to the Mott, where the terrified boy hurled himself into the freezing water to escape the clattering green swarm.
The intrepid Shield Bugs hurled themselves into the Mott after the Apprentice, doing what they had to do, following the enemy to the end, but unfortunately for them, the end they met was their own. As each bug hit the water it sank like a stone, its heavy green armor dragging it down to the sticky mud at the bottom of the Mott. The Apprentice, shocked and gasping with the cold, hauled himself out onto the bank and lay shivering under a bush, too afraid to move.
The Magog watched the scene with no apparent interest at all. Then, when all the fuss had died down, he started to trawl the depths of the mud with his long arms and pick out the drowned bugs one by one. He sat contentedly on the canoe, sucking the bugs dry and crunching them into a smooth green paste with his sharp yellow fangs—armor, swords and all—before he slowly sucked them down into his stomach.
