Jack Shian and the Destiny Stone (7 page)

I don’t know why they’re so strict. I’ll be fourteen in a few months.

He had no time to muse on these things, as Murkle was evidently keen to proceed.

“Come along, young man. We need to find this giant.”

Murkle started off on a narrow track. Even at Shian height, there was little room to either side.

“Let me get the Sphere, and I’ll see what it shows,” cried Jack plaintively as his tutor disappeared into the gloom.

It made little difference. As Jack unwound the
Mapa Mundi
from his neck, he only knew where Murkle was because of the tiny bobbing light from the tutor’s sceptre. Jack felt the flag turn into the Sphere, but it was too dark to make anything out.

“Murkle! Wait for me!”

He headed for the sceptre glow ahead, but the glow kept moving. Murkle hadn’t even stopped.

Muttering under his breath, Jack edged forward as quickly as he dared. He hadn’t gone more than a few paces when his right leg plunged knee-deep into a freezing pool. Clutching the Sphere frantically, he clambered back onto the narrow path.

A shout of pain from ahead suggested that Murkle had also come off the path. Jack made his way towards the glow of his tutor’s sceptre, and found Murkle sitting down, clutching his left ankle and cursing softly. Jack fought back a giggle.

“I’ll use the Sphere.”

He held the Sphere forward, and in the sceptre’s light saw the map’s two large circles.

They helped us get across
the giant’s bridge at midsummer. What are they showing now?

For a while, nothing was visible. Then a slumbering figure appeared, with a glowing path leading up to him. Jack looked at the picture.
A glowing path?
The sceptre was no good; and they weren’t allowed to use fire because it would frighten Caskill.

Murkle’s cursing had lessened, and Jack looked curiously at his tutor. Despite his obvious pain, he looked … well, excited.

“My first giant,” said Murkle happily, in between gasps of pain.

“Murkle, have you never seen a giant before?”

“I’ve read more about giants than you’ll ever know, young man. I was researching giant lore before you were even born.”

“But you’ve never actually met one?”

“I’ve got the amulet; it will waken his heart again. I know what to do. Now, can’t you make that thing show us where he is?”

Jack thought. A glowing path … Then his mind cleared. Of course! Finbogie had given him the lucis powder. Quickly, Jack reached inside his Sintura belt and took a pinch of the powder. What was it Finbogie had said? ‘Only a pinch; make it last’.

Jack looked at the Sphere again. It showed the cave’s multiple paths, and great pools in between them all. Which path was the right one? As Jack turned to face different directions, one of the paths on the map glowed.

That must be it. I’ll have to use the Sphere to keep me on track.

Edging cautiously forward, Jack threw the lucis powder onto the path in front of him. As he did so, the path glowed for about a dozen yards ahead.

“Keep the sceptre’s light on the path too,” he instructed his tutor.

Murkle’s mutter of contempt was unmistakeable, but he did as the young apprentice said. As Jack reached the limit of the glowing path he checked the Sphere again.

The path veers off to the left here. Oh well. As long as the lucis powder keeps working, and Murkle holds the sceptre low to the ground.

Jack threw some more of the powder in front of him.

“This way!” he shouted triumphantly.

Every twenty steps or so Jack had to throw another pinch of the powder down, but the path was light enough now for them to see their way, even without the sceptre.

But I’ve got to make this powder last …

They moved forward more quickly, Murkle limping behind Jack, but still brimming over with enthusiasm.

“I’ve got the amulet, and I’ll place it in his chest and wake him. Oh! It will be a sight to see!”

He’s never done anything like this before,
thought Jack.
All he’s ever done is read stories.

Although the cave ceiling was high, the path led them under rock overhangs, and Jack found himself brushing cobwebs away.

Ugh! I hate spiders! I wish Murkle was going first.

Murkle too seemed to want to take the lead, for he suddenly pushed past Jack.

“He’s near! I can hear him!”

Indeed, an echoing sound of snoring drifted from nearby. And clambering over a rock, in the glow from the sceptre, they saw him. The cave ceiling rose sharply again, creating a cavernous chamber. And there, in the middle, flat on his back, bare-chested, mouth slightly open, a slumbering giant.

“How big is he?” whispered Jack.

There was no reply. With a cry of elation, Murkle hobbled forward, and clambered onto the chest of the sleeping figure. Reaching down into the pouch on his belt, he grabbed the amulet, and thrust it into the tiny depression over his heart.

“No!”

Jack’s warning came too late. The giant remained snoring on his back, but his right hand reached up and grabbed Murkle tightly. The tutor’s body just filled the great creature’s fist, but looked like it wouldn’t be a body much longer. Murkle’s eyes were nearly popping out of his head, and even in the dim light, Jack could see his face turning puce.

Jack reached into his Sintura belt again, grabbed the Aximon figure and shouted,

“Salvus! Salvus! Salvus!”

There was a moment of stillness, then Caskill’s grip lessened. Murkle’s body slumped, his head striking the ground with a dull thud. His sceptre rolled to the side, and he lay, motionless.

Great. Now I’ve stunned the giant; and Murkle’s probably dead.

Murkle, however, was not dead. A deep agonising intake of breath was followed by a prolonged hacking cough; then he sat up, rubbing the side of his head. He looked accusingly at Jack.

“Did you do that?” His voice was croaky.

Jack felt the blood run to his face.

“He was going to kill you! And you were supposed to wake him gently. Don’t you remember what you teach us?”

Momentarily rebuked by Jack’s harsh tone, Murkle muttered, “Whippersnapper,” but said no more.

“So what d’we do now? How long’s the Salvus charm work?” Jack thought back to the only other time he’d had to use it, when Konan had been fused into the oak at Dunvik. Uncle Doonya hadn’t allowed the charm to wear off.

“I’ve never seen it used before,” muttered Murkle.

“Well, I’ll try the amulet again,” said Jack firmly. “Properly.”

He climbed up onto the giant’s slumbering body and levered the amulet out of the depression in which it nestled. Then, muttering a “Please make this work; we need this”, he placed it back gently in the hollow on the giant’s chest, then jumped back down onto the ground.

Nothing happened.

What’s missing?
thought Jack. He looked at the Sphere again. The picture of a flower appeared; a purple flower with a drooping head.
Oh, yeah! Armina was telling us about this.

Jack picked up Murkle’s sceptre, and tapped the giant’s body with it.

“
Digitalis!”

There was another moment of stillness.

Then the amulet began to pulsate, and a glow appeared around the giant’s body, illuminating the cave in a restful light. The giant blinked; then sat slowly up. Rubbing his eyes, he yawned expansively, and smacked his lips together. Then, peering at Jack and Murkle, he blinked. A menacing growl began at the back of his throat, and his eyes narrowed.

Murkle reached and grabbed the sceptre from Jack’s hand.

The giant rose slowly to his feet, staring all the while at Murkle. At least twelve feet tall, his head reached the rock ceiling, and he dwarfed the two Shian creatures. Jack saw Murkle’s fingers twitch as he grasped the sceptre and looked up.

“We need him on our side,” hissed Jack.

Murkle didn’t seem to hear. Overawed by Caskill’s enormous size, he trembled slightly. When he started, shakily, to raise the sceptre, Jack moved forward.

“Thank you Caskill,” he shouted. “We promise to leave you the heart stone and the charm it needs if you get us the Shian flag from Ardmore castle.”

There was a pause, while the echoes rang around the cave. Then Caskill looked down at his chest and saw the amulet pulsating. His great hand passed over it, touching it lightly. He stared at Jack, then knelt down and patted him on the head. Jack felt as if the cave ceiling had fallen on him; his head pounded, and his ears thrummed. Then, turning to Murkle, Caskill snatched the sceptre from the old tutor’s hand, peered at it briefly, then snapped it as if it were a twig.

Murkle let out a gasp of surprise, but seemed unable to move.

He’s never dealt with anything like this before,
thought Jack, his head pounding less now.
All those stories, but it’s like he’s never been out of his house.

“Ar’mor’.” It was more a grunt than a word.

Caskill picked Jack up gently, cradling him in the crook of his right arm, snorted, and set off for the waterfall, his great strides echoing around the cave and making short work of the distance. Startled out of his reverie, Murkle began to run after them, shouting,

“Hey! Wait up!”

Caskill paused briefly, and glanced over his shoulder. As Murkle approached, the giant stretched his foot out and nudged the tutor into a rock pool. With an undignified yell, Murkle fell in, splashing water everywhere. Jack sniggered. This wasn’t such a bad Hallows’ Eve after all.

The rock pools were little more than puddles to Caskill, but now he began to wade into deeper water. Jack saw the waterfall curtain ahead, and looked around to make sure Murkle was there. His tutor was jogging painfully, trying to keep up, making the best of the path’s glowing residue of lucis powder.

As Caskill approached the waterfall, he placed his left hand over Jack’s head, sheltering him from the torrent of water, and they passed through. Emerging into the morning light, the great giant lifted his left hand to shield his eyes.

Jack’s first sight was of Finbogie, Gilmore and the McCools crouched down, military-style, their sceptres at the ready. Grandpa stood behind them.

“It’s all right!” shouted Jack. “He’ll help us!”

A cheer rose from the ranks.

“But where is Murkle?” demanded Grandpa.

The bedraggled figure of the old tutor now emerged from the edge of the waterfall. Soaking wet, and limping heavily, he cut a sorry figure, and it took him some time to hobble over to where the others were gathered.

Caskill deposited Jack beside the others, and patted him on the head once more. It was kindly meant, but just as clumsily done. Jack felt as if a ton weight had fallen on him again.

“Caskill, I am Sandy of the Stone, from Edinburgh. You must retrieve for us the Shian flag in Ardmore castle.”

“Ar’mor’,” came the grunt again. “U’isk.”

“We know of your battles with the Urisk. We promise to give you the charm that will keep your heart working if you get the flag for us.”

The giant passed his huge hand over his heart once more, and appeared to consider this.

“Uh!” he grunted, before nodding, and settling himself down on the riverbank, and bathing his face.

“Well done, Jack lad!” said Grandpa, turning to Jack, his eyes beaming. “I knew we could count on you.”

“What’s all that about a Urisk?”

“It protects Ardmore castle. It’s a creature we just can’t fight, Jack: not without the power of the Stone. No amount of hexing can defeat it. And the castle has iron everywhere. Only a giant is strong enough to get in.”

“That giant,” spat Murkle with disgust, “is a menace. He tried to kill me.”

If he’d tried to kill you,
thought Jack,
you wouldn’t be here.

Grandpa placed his hand reassuringly on Murkle’s shoulder.

“But he’s with us; that’s what counts. Now, let us get to Balbegan. We’ll need to meet up with the others.”

The group started to make their way up the glen towards Balbegan. Murkle, still limping, hobbled at the back, keeping a wary eye on Caskill, who seemed content to amble along at the slow Shian pace. Jack fell into step with his grandfather.

“Grandpa, has Murkle been here before? Gilravage said my tutor had been here making arrangements; but he was useless in that cave.”

Grandpa Sandy stopped and looked hard at Jack. He began to walk again.

“Murkle knows a great deal,” he said evasively. “That’s why he’s a tutor to you apprentices. But it’s Daid who’s been coming here.”

Daid? Jack had barely been aware of Daid on Ilanbeg. If he’d been away a lot, that would explain things.

“Daid knew the story about the charmstone being found by humans. That charmstone has become a local legend.”

“Gilravage said the charmstone’s Norse.”

“That’s quite possible. As you know, the Norsemen were here long ago. And the Kildashie fear them coming back, too. You did well to get it.”

“What do the crescent moons mean?”

“You’d need to ask Murkle. Whatever, this charmstone’s the difference between life and eternal sleep for Caskill. And we really do need him to get this flag.”

“How did Caskill lose his heart?”

“That wasn’t his heart, just the charmstone that stops him sleeping forever. No one knows how it happened – it was long ago. But once we found out from Daid about that human wearing it when he went fishing, we had to arrange to get it from him.”

“That was funny,” said Jack happily. “You should’ve heard this guy.”

“Oh, I have – twice. I’m sure he deserved everything he got.”

“So has Murkle really never done anything like this before?”

Grandpa Sandy was silent for a moment. “He’s more of a theory tutor, I suppose,” he said eventually.

Jack didn’t reply. The road along the glen was rocky, and he had to pick his way carefully to avoid twisting his ankle.

“Ah! There’s your father,” said Grandpa, breaking the silence.

“Come on. Ardmore’s a good few hours away,” said Phineas as they approached.