Jack Shian and the Destiny Stone (26 page)

“We could say you’ve gone to look at the human spaces here; he’ll buy that. Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.”

Over the next couple of days the Novehowe solstice celebrations seemed to have a mellowing effect on everyone. Despite Jack’s concerns, and the continuing non-appearance of any support from the fjordsmen, the atmosphere was infectious enough for Jack to join in the parties. And the Novehowe lot
did
know how to party, Jack had to give them that. Like the McCools, most of them seemed to survive with just brief naps, returning to the festivities bleary-eyed but ready for more.

Phineas and Grandpa – in fact, all of those who had left Ilanbeg – had settled down into ‘the Novehowe way’, joining in the parties, the short walks outside, the music sessions. Where they betrayed their ‘non-Novehowe-ness’ was in the sleeping. The Nebula crew, more accustomed to island life, and thriving on the abundant food, had adapted well, and were in the full throes of the celebrations.

All kinds of Shian were making an appearance too. Not since the Hidden Commonwealth had been summoned at Dunvik had Jack seen such an array of creatures, not even on Ilanbeg: Darrigs, Elle-folk, Pisgies, even Phooka. Enda and the other McCools had quickly found the Phooka, and one corner of the great chamber became a little Irish enclave.

However it was the growth in the Cree numbers which most fascinated Jack. He Who Waits and Grey Wolf had been quietly joined by several dozen friends. They had arrived unobtrusively, and made little obvious impact on the celebrations. But they were definitely
there
. Jack realised with a growing sense of optimism that this might make it a lot easier for Grey Wolf to disappear for a while without being noticed.

While this might get the Cree man away, Jack couldn’t see how he and Cleo and Petros could escape without Phineas and Grandpa finding out. The answer came on Christmas Eve, when Enda pulled Jack away from the group of youngsters as they sat next to the fireplace.

“Jack, d’you fancy a jaunt out into the humans’ world tomorrow? Ye’ll niver believe this, but we’ve found an Irishwoman here, and she’s said we can visit her home. We wouldn’t touch the food – ’twould be disgustin’, sure we know that. But have ye iver seen a human Christmas?”

Jack shook his head.

“Well, Connemara Mary will take us out after breakfast. Will ye come?”

Jack’s smile was his reply.

Brilliant: a perfect excuse!

So it was that as Christmas Day dawned, Jack stashed the
Mapa Mundi
and Tamlina’s ring in a kitchen cupboard, and then slipped unobtrusively into the girls’ room.

Fast asleep! Good!

Relieving Rana and Lizzie’s satchels of their green bonnets, he found Grey Wolf and handed one over. When Enda announced after breakfast that a crowd were leaving to go and celebrate the day with Connemara Mary, Jack, Petros, Cleo and Grey Wolf tagged along.

“Have a good time!” shouted Grandpa Sandy as they made for the tumulus entrance.

Once outside, however, they dropped to the back of the north-bound crowd, and as the advance group got further ahead Jack and the others turned round.

“It’s freezing!” said Petros, as he shivered in his coat. “Should we go back and get some warmer clothes? Gilmore’s got loads.”

“We haven’t time,” said Jack, as he set off down the road. He was shivering too, but he resolved not to show this to Petros or Cleo. Grey Wolf, wrapped in a thin blanket, seemed unmoved by the bitter weather. He allowed Jack to lead, but kept a watchful eye on Cleo as she struggled in the strong wind.

They reached the three standing stones just as the rain started.

“Quick! Let’s get away before we get soaked,” pleaded Petros.

“The low road’ll dry us anyway,” said Jack impatiently, as he made for the dolmen in the centre. “Come on!”

He got the four standing in a circle, arms linked.

“We’ll use the bonnets in turn to get out of the square. All right?”

The others nodded.

“
Wind flock castle!
”

A gust of icy rain swept over them.

“
Wind flock castle!
” shouted Jack.

No movement; nothing.

“Maybe the low road does not work today?” said Cleo.

“But Magnus said it would be open,” protested Jack.

“Well, it’s not open now,” grumbled Petros. “And I’m getting wet.”

“We’re all wet!” shouted Jack.

“If the low road will not work, we must go another way. Come!” Grey Wolf set off at a jog back along the loch-side.

“Where are we going?” demanded Petros.

Grey Wolf indicated the large circle of standing stones ahead.

“It’s the place for flying here, and leaving.”

Jack turned to Petros as they jogged along, but Petros just shrugged.

“We have a saying where I come from,” laughed Grey Wolf. “‘You will run with horses’.”

Reaching the first stone, he stopped and watched the others arriving out of breath.

“I think so many days of relaxation are not good for your health!” he laughed. “But these horses will take us where we need to go. What is the name of the place in the city for horses?”

“It’s below Arthur’s Seat,” said Jack. “We used horses from there to get to France.”

“Horses?” asked Cleo timidly.

“Haven’t you ridden before?” A look of concern passed over Jack’s face.

Cleo shook her head.

“Then you shall ride with me,” said Grey Wolf.

He gave a low whistle, and two ghost-grey horses appeared.

“We ride without saddles.”

“We’re used to that,” said Jack.

The four were quickly mounted. Cleo, sitting in front of Grey Wolf, covered by his blanket, hung on tightly to the horse’s mane. Jack sat behind Petros, and gripped his waist.

The horses began to canter along the flat ground beside the loch, quickly getting up to a gallop. Jack waited for Grey Wolf to shout, “Horse and hattock!”

“
Mistatim!
”

The rise into the air was much more sudden than Jack had anticipated. The two horses sped upwards at terrific speed, and only the passing of the icy cold air kept Jack’s grip on his cousin’s waist firm.

“It’s f … f … freezing!” he chattered.

Petros was concentrating on keeping a hold of the mane, and didn’t turn round.

The air was so cold that Jack’s eyes dried as soon as he opened them. He could feel ice starting to form on his nose, but didn’t dare release his grip to wipe his face.

“How d’we know where we’re going?” he eventually shouted at Grey Wolf.

“The horses know it’s south; but you’ll have to let me know when we get there.”

But I’ve never flown to Edinburgh from the north before!

Jack’s panic slowly settled, and he began to calculate.

Edinburgh to Claville last year took us about thirty minutes (and I thought
that
was cold!) … This is maybe a third of the distance … faster horses, but they don’t know where they’re going …

“It’ll take ten minutes!” he shouted back. “We must keep the coast beneath us.”

Jack forced himself to keep his eyes open, but he had to blink every second or two to stop his eyes drying out.

After seven or eight minutes Jack saw the firth.

“I recognise those bridges! We’re nearly there! That’s Arthur’s Seat ahead.”

Grey Wolf steered the horses towards the great volcanic outcrop overlooking Edinburgh, and brought the horses down to the field beneath it. They seemed none the worse for their flight.

Jack had expected the ground temperature to be warmer than the icy air above; but with a sinking feeling he realised:
This is what Kildashie cold is!

It took Jack several moments before he could prise his frozen fingers from Petros’ belt.

“That was fun!” exclaimed Cleo. She had emerged from the protection of Grey Wolf’s blanket looking a lot warmer than Jack felt.

“Look, Jack,” said Petros, as he rubbed his hands together, “me and Cleo will have a look around the human spaces. I promise we’ll be OK. We’ll meet you by the statue opposite St Giles’ at eleven, yeah?”

With a sense of misgiving, Jack watched as Petros and Cleo set off towards the city centre.

They’d better not get found out
…

“So,” said Grey Wolf, “where do we find Caskill?”

A screech came from high above them.

“What in Tua’s name is that?” screamed Jack as a great winged beast swooped down towards Arthur’s Seat.

“It’s a skoffin,” replied Grey Wolf; “a dragon from the ice lands.”

“What’s it got in its claws?”

Whatever it was, it was soon plummeting to earth as the skoffin released its grip. There was a thud as a body fell onto an overhanging rock shelf near the summit of Arthur’s Seat. The skoffin screeched, and soared away.

The body stirred, then sat up; but there were a dozen smaller creatures running towards it. The nearest one threw its cap at the body, and there was a roar of pain as the gory missile hit home.

I know that sound.

“It’s Caskill!”

“Those others are not there to greet him,” said Grey Wolf. “What are they?”

“Dunters,” replied Jack, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Red Caps. They’re vile.”

“There’s no time to get the horses. Climb on my back.”

Jack did as he was told, and was amazed at how quickly and smoothly Grey Wolf bounded along. It took only a few minutes to clamber up the slope, covered in ice as it was …

We’ve got to get to Caskill before they kill him!

… but even as they neared the top the situation looked hopeless. Caskill, covered in gore, had managed to force the Dunters back from the edge, and was scrambling for the frost-covered summit to give himself the advantage of height. But the Dunters’ aim with their blood-soaked caps was too much for him, and he swung wearily at the small creatures which now pursued him up the hill. Several dead or stunned Dunters lay sprawled on the ground, but there were just too many of them. One leapt at Caskill, and began to claw at the charmstone in his chest.

Jack leapt from Grey Wolf’s back, thrust out his right wrist and took aim.

“Absango!”

A bolt hit the Dunter square in the back. It disappeared without a sound.

If Jack was impressed with this, he was stunned at Grey Wolf’s response. Retrieving the slimmest of bows from under his blanket, the Cree fixed a needle-fine arrow in place and let fly.
Fffft!
In two seconds he had repeated the feat. Two Dunters fell dead.

Taken by surprise, their comrades turned round, and aimed their gory bonnets at the two arrivals.

“Absango!”

Jack was gratified to see another Dunter vanish. More fell as Grey Wolf’s arrows found their mark.

We might just be in time to save Caskill after all!

Jack took aim again.

“Absa …”

The Dunter threw down a hex-stone …

“Tarditas!”

… and Jack’s voice froze. In fact, everything froze.

Jack stepped beside his frozen body, and looked at it. His right arm was raised, and his mouth was open. But he looked like a statue … and so did Grey Wolf and the Dunter … and Caskill – frozen in the act of falling to the ground.

Jack racked his brains. What kind of a hex was this?

“It’s quite simple.” The voice was husky; the words spoken slowly. “The Dunter has stopped time.”

Jack felt sick.

It can’t be!

But when the grey-cloaked figure emerged from the mist, he knew it was.

“Ye’re the one who brought back my sand timer after that Brashat wretch stole it.”

The Grey advanced on Jack’s disembodied figure.

Am I imagining this?

“I see ye do not have my sister’s ring with ye; a shame. But yer determination shows ye have talent. I have watched yer progress these months, and would mak ye an offer.”

In a second the Grey had advanced on Jack and scooped him up in her arms. Sweeping him up to a crest that looked over a colourless Edinburgh, she sat him down.

“I could use yer talents. Bring me the map and the ring, and I will give ye power and riches beyond yer wildest dreams!”

She waved her arm over the city, instantly transforming it into a bright colourful metropolis. Wealthy people paraded along fine avenues, displaying their opulence.

“Ye and the Kildashie can have the Shian world; and even the wealth of these humans will be yours if ye will join me.”

To have as much as I could ever want …

A series of images flitted through Jack’s mind. His family, living in grand style; the best food and clothes; Petros could even have all the human gadgets he wanted …

No; something’s wrong
. Jack shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

“And not just riches.” The Grey swept her arm over the cityscape again, and buildings shone in the warm sunlight. Jack felt the chill leave his bones, and a snug sense of wellbeing filled him.

“A life of comfort awaits.”

The vision was so enticing. To be warm again, to shake the winter off … He
was
warm!

“All Shian creatures will be your servants; even the Kildashie will be at yer beck and call. Only give me the map and the ring, and pay me homage.”

A candle ignited in Jack’s brain.
No: if the Kildashie are still around the sunshine won’t come back!
And the Grey’s … evil.

Jack felt an eagle soaring overhead … He imagined it, claws outstretched, flying at the skoffin.

“No!”

The blow hit Jack right under the rib cage, knocking the breath out of him. Frozen again, he fell to his knees, gasping. He was aware of a succession of
Ffffts
as he merged back into his body, and looked up to see Grey Wolf despatch the last three Dunters.

The ground in front of them was littered with Dunters. Lying in a series of grotesque poses, each body displayed a fine arrow shaft. But near the very summit of Arthur’s Seat, Caskill had fallen sideways, and was breathing slowly. Foul-smelling burns festered where the bloody caps had found their mark.