Jack Shian and the Mapa Mundi (6 page)

Jack rolled his eyes.

The night had been stormy. Twice Jack was woken by the sound of thunder, and when morning finally came he awoke to the sound of rain hammering on the windowpanes. Jack stole quietly downstairs, but he wasn’t the first up. Ossian and Grandpa sat in the kitchen, conversing in a low tone. Grandpa gestured for Jack to sit down.

“We’re just running over our plans. Have some breakfast, and we’ll fill you in.”

Jack reached over and helped himself to some bread and heather honey.

“The grig came back early this morning, but she was in a bad state,” stated Grandpa, getting up and pacing the room. “The wood creatures are anxious. It’s spring, but last night’s was a winter storm. The grig could hardly speak, but at least she knows where Tamlina will be today.”

“Are the seasons getting mixed up, Grandpa?” asked Jack. “The Kildashie nearly stopped spring from coming, didn’t they?”

“Impossible to say.” Grandpa sat down again. “These things happen, from time to time.”

“But I’ve never known it here before,” said Ossian solemnly.

Jack had never seen Ossian look less than confident before. Now he sounded …
anxious
.

“We’ve used this grig loads o’ times. It’s no’ like her to get scared.”

“Who’s scared?” asked Rana, as she and Lizzie entered.

“Never mind,” said Grandpa brusquely. “We need to get going. We’ve got quite a walk to find Tamlina.”

“What are we going to ask her, anyway?” queried Lizzie.

“About the Kildashie. And she may tell us more about the Sphere.”

“And my father,” stated Jack. “I want to know if she’s heard more about him.”

Ten minutes later found them all leaving the house. The rain was little more than drizzle now, but a windy, dreary kind of drizzle that gets into your bones.

Following the grig’s directions, Ossian headed for the clearing where Tamlina would be gathering spring roots. But whereas the previous summer’s walk had been a pleasant stroll in the woods, this was a longer, colder journey. Jack started to recognise certain landmarks.

“I remember that tree,” he announced. “It’s funny, like an old man stooping.”

Grandpa Sandy halted and held up his hand. A high wailing sound was just audible. He looked quizzically at Ossian.

“It’s the Banshee,” said Ossian slowly. His face had gone pale.

Grandpa instinctively pulled Rana and Lizzie closer to him.

“Where is she? Can you tell?”

Jack had been surprised at breakfast to see that Ossian looked concerned; now his cousin was frightened, he was sure of it.

“Who’s the Banshee?” Lizzie asked. “What’s it mean?”

“It means death is near,” said his grandfather carefully. “Stick close together, all of you.” He withdrew his sceptre from his cloak and fingered it nervously. “Come on, we must find Tamlina. If she’s in trouble, we’ll have to help her.”

Jack glanced nervously around. All the normal sounds of the wood had disappeared: no small creatures scurrying through the dead leaves, no birds overhead. He gulped: it didn’t go down easily, and he had to swallow hard.

They had moved forward a hundred yards when they heard the first
crack!

“Get behind me, quick,” ordered Grandpa, as he hurried for the nearest tree. He crouched down, with the four youngsters copying him.

“It came from over there.” Ossian indicated ahead. A series of loud cracks followed. Rana and Lizzie looked nervously at each other, then at their grandfather.

“It’s near the clearing, isn’t it?” said Grandpa, holding his sceptre out in front of him. “Stay right behind me. I don’t want any of you getting hurt.”

The sound of cracks grew louder, and there was a sudden shout of pain.

“That’s Tamlina, I’m sure o’ it!” shouted Ossian. Disregarding his grandfather’s cautious approach, he charged forward.

“Come on, Grandpa.” Jack gripped his grandfather’s cloak and urged him on.

The five ran forward. The cracks had continued, but they were slower now.

And suddenly they saw her: Tamlina, lying in a pool of blood. Propped up against a withered oak tree, she still held her sceptre up. But standing over her was a tall dark-haired woman in a flowing black cloak, cackling evilly. Next to the woman were two creatures: an emaciated old man with a long cap, which he was dipping into the blood; and a tiny demon, like the ones Jack had witnessed at Dunvik. Tamlina’s sceptre crackled feebly, but her power was gone. The tall woman stooped down and removed the ring from Tamlina’s finger.

“Tamlina!” shouted Ossian. He darted forward and was met full on by the victorious enchantress. A bolt shot from her sceptre and hit Ossian square in the chest. He fell backwards, without a sound.

“No!” Grandpa Sandy fired a hex at the enchantress, but it was like a fly bouncing off a windowpane. She seemed indestructible.

“You dare to fire at me?” she growled, her voice both terrible and exciting. She brandished her own sceptre and fired a swift volley of hexes at Grandpa Sandy.

It was an uneven contest. The hexes flew in too fast for him to respond. The first one hit him on the left shoulder. He spun round, a look of surprise on his face, and his sceptre flew out of his hand. The second (or was it the third?) glanced off his back, and another caught his leg as he fell.

Jack’s eyes flashed. In a second he had darted down and scooped up his grandfather’s sceptre. Crouching low, he aimed it up at the tall woman.

“
Gosol!
”

A bolt shot from the sceptre, crackling as it flew. A look of amazement spread over the face of the tall enchantress. Jack kept the sceptre steady, although his arms ached; it was as if the bolts weighed a ton. Finally, with a loud
crack!
the woman disappeared. The tiny demon vanished too, but the thin old man was left. He sank to his knees, his hands outstretched as if pleading for mercy. Jack got uncertainly to his feet. The bolts had stopped flying, but it still took all his strength to hold the sceptre.

Shivering, Jack advanced on the old man, who cowered as he approached. Then Jack made his mistake. He glanced round to see if Rana and Lizzie were all right, and in that instant the old man took his bloodstained cap and hurled it at the girls. With a shriek, he vanished.

His screech was echoed by a loud scream from Lizzie as the gory cap narrowly missed her face. Spinning round, Jack could see that the old man had now disappeared, but was uncertain of where he might be hiding. He crouched low, until the sound of his grandfather moaning came to him. Satisfying himself that the creatures were indeed gone, he ran over to where Grandpa Sandy lay. Rana knelt down too and stroked her grandfather’s arm anxiously.

“What do we do?” she asked plaintively.

Looking round, Jack saw Tamlina slumped by the oak tree. He ran over to her.

“Tamlina! Can you help Grandpa?”

A thin smile spread across Tamlina’s face. Her lips moved, but for a moment there was no sound. Then a hoarse whisper emerged.

“Give him these. On his forehead.” Clearly in pain, she indicated a small pouch beside her. Jack looked quickly inside and found three small pebbles. Extracting them, he ran back and carefully placed them on his grandfather’s brow.

Lizzie and Rana watched apprehensively. With relief, they saw Grandpa Sandy’s eyes open. He blinked, turned to face Jack and mumbled inaudibly. Then, taking the stones from his brow, he levered himself painfully into a sitting position. His left shoulder was steaming gently, and his right leg gave off a bitter burning smell.

“Where’s Ossian?” His voice was cracked.

Ossian had not moved since being hit. Sprawling on the ground, his neck was twisted. Grandpa dragged himself over to where Ossian lay. Then, looking over to where Tamlina sat propped against the oak, he called over, “Can you help?”

The thin smile reappeared on Tamlina’s face. With exquisite pain, she beckoned Jack over. As he neared, he saw that the pool of blood around Tamlina had grown.

“Will you be all right?” His voice was quiet, uncertain.

Tamlina reached out and took his hand.

“Yer cousin was only bolted,” she whispered. “He’ll live.”

Grandpa Sandy had dragged himself painstakingly over to where Tamlina lay.

“What can we do to help you?” he asked anxiously.

Tamlina shook her head sadly. With a painful gesture she indicated the sticky pool around her.

“The blood is dark; I will die. She took my Raglan.”

The Raglan again? She spoke of it last year too! But what does it mean?

Lizzie began to sob, and Rana instinctively put her arm around her distraught sister.

Coming to, Ossian rubbed his chest where the bolt had struck. Wincing, he first knelt, then stood slowly up. Lurching over to the others, he looked down at Tamlina’s pale face.

“Who was that?” he demanded. “The other enchantress, who is she?”

“Malevola,” croaked Tamlina. “She’s Unseelie – from Tula – the north island. She heard o’ my Raglan, then o’yer Chalice; now she wants the Sphere.” Her voice was almost inaudible.

“What
is
your Raglan?” cried Jack.

“Gosol …” Tamlina’s voice gave out.

“Raglan is to do with Gosol?” Jack’s voice was almost a shout.

“Tamlina, it is urgent.” Grandpa Sandy’s voice broke through. “The Sphere – where is it? Can you tell us?”

Tamlina’s eyes were closing. With an effort, she fought to keep them open.

“Seek ye the cave o’ the saint. The giant’s bridge … when columns awake …” She got no further. Her head slumped forward.

“What cave? What bridge?” Jack’s voice was plaintive, but it was lost almost immediately in the sound of a loud wail echoing through the trees.

“Jack.” His grandfather’s voice was little more than a croak. “She’s gone. She’s at peace now.”

Lizzie’s sobs grew in intensity, merging with the wail that came from the trees around them.

“Well, we can’t leave her here for the crows,” said Ossian.

Now almost recovered from the bolt that had laid him out, Ossian began to clear a space between the trees. Jack joined in, brushing away the leaves and the deadwood that littered the ground. Within a few minutes they had cleared a big enough space for Tamlina’s body.

“You’ll have to lift her over.” Grandpa indicated that he could not use his sceptre to raise Tamlina’s body from where it remained, slumped against the tree.

Jack looked at Ossian.

“I’ll tak’ her shoulders.” Ossian stooped down and reached his arms through Tamlina’s.

Jack tried not to look as a dark stain spread over Ossian’s shirt. He shuffled over and gripped Tamlina’s legs. Awkwardly, the boys dragged the body over to the clearing they had created. Grandpa beckoned them away.

“You’ve done well. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“Won’t your sceptre work?” Rana’s voice was worried.

“For some things only.” Still gasping in pain, Grandpa grasped his sceptre and levelled it at Tamlina’s inert body.

“May she rest at peace.” His voice was uneven.

Jack looked and saw his grandfather sag to the left. With an effort, Grandpa Sandy steadied himself.

“
Pulviscin!
”

From his sceptre emerged a dim orange beam, which encased Tamlina’s body, making it glow. Gradually, it began to smoulder, then became a flame. The body and the clothes burned, but the surrounding ground was untouched by the fire. Within a minute or two there was only a small pile of ash.

The wailing sound stopped.

The sudden stillness unnerved Jack. He looked around nervously, unsure of what to expect.

“It’s not safe here,” stated Grandpa. “Wherever Malevola went, she may decide to come back.” He forced himself onto his feet and began to limp painfully back the way they had come, indicating to the others to follow. Then, stopping, he turned around to Jack and put his hand on the youngster’s shoulder.

“Once again, Jack, I have to thank you. You knew what to do.”

Jack’s mind had been in a whirlwind. Now he paused as well, and thought.

“I didn’t plan it,” he said. “It just sort of came out. It was a bit like Dunvik, wasn’t it? Gosol worked like a charm.”

“Not a charm, Jack, you know that. The power to fight evil,” said Grandpa Sandy kindly. “But with Tamlina dead we’ve lost a powerful ally, and we’ve found an even more powerful enemy. I don’t think Keldy is safe. We must get back to the castle.”

“But are you all right, Grandpa?” Rana indicated her grandfather’s right leg, which still smouldered. “What did Malevola use on you?”

“A curse unknown to me,” admitted her grandfather, wincing in pain. “I need Armina. She may know how to heal these wounds.”

Painfully, and painfully slowly, they moved cautiously through the woods back to Ossian’s house. Stopping only to wash their hands there and collect their belongings, they set off for the low road.

The low road journey back was painful. Grandpa Sandy, barely able to stand, leant heavily on his grandsons’ shoulders. Jack gritted his teeth, but still felt that his shoulder would break under the weight. The acrid smell from Grandpa’s wounds was making Lizzie’s travel sickness worse, and by the time they emerged at the foot of the castle square, they were all feeling wretched. They were met at the house by a fretful Aunt Katie, who clasped a handkerchief to her mouth as she saw her father-in-law.

“Quick, Rana,” she said after a moment. “Go and get Armina. Boys, get Grandpa into the front room.”

Armina arrived, sniffed a couple of times and quickly demanded a bowl of hawthorn oil and some clean cloths. “It’s a Phosphan curse,” she announced. “The burn has gone deep. I wish you’d got him to me sooner.”

Jack opened his mouth to explain, but was silenced by a look from Ossian. Jack left at Armina’s request to go and find his uncle, and Gilmore the tailor.

How come we get the blame for things? he fumed. We got him here as fast as we could.

The news had spread quickly. Within minutes neighbours and friends were gathering in the square, wanting to know if they could help. Armina took control, sending some out for supplies of cure-stones and jyoti paste, ordering more cloths and arranging for sandalwood scrapings to be burnt. When she decided that Grandpa was fit to be moved, she organised a litter party, and together they carried Grandpa to her house, at the top of the square. Here, as Armina explained, she could look after his wounds. But – and she made this abundantly clear – the recovery was going to take time. Phosphan curses were notoriously difficult to treat, especially when they had had a chance to burn so deeply.