Power of Three (19 page)

Brenda thought she did not. Gerald hardly knew. It was not pleasant to think one had been used by three aliens for their own ends. On the other hand, Dorig were not human either. “Look here,” Gerald said, “what do you think of Giants?”

There was the kind of pause that happens when people do not like to say what they really think. “You're very strong,” one Dorig said politely. “And,” added another “they say you work wonders with the fruits of the earth.”

Gerald felt like laughing. He wondered what the Dorig really thought of Giants. At any rate, he was sure it was not unlike the things they said about Lymen. He took hold of Gair's collar for encouragement, and he knew it had been given to him in real friendship, as a real honor. “Could we speak to Adara, please?” he said.

The Dorig shrugged, as if they gave him up. Some of them went away inside the mound, while the others stayed. One or two of them looked marvelingly at Brenda's pink bulk and whispered in a way which made Brenda self-conscious and peevish. Then the other Dorig came back with not one, but two ladies. One was behaving with dignity. The other was rushing along behind.

“Let me through! I insist on talking to them! You've no right to stop me!”

“What an awful voice!” said Brenda.

“Just like a duck,” agreed Gerald.

The Dorig in the doorway sighed and seemed to brace themselves. There was a muddle in the entry, and a great deal of quacking. A Dorig said angrily, “What did you bring that duck for?”

“Couldn't stop her.”

The quacking lady was somehow bounced away farther inside, where she continued to rush about quacking. The other lady was allowed through between two Dorig. They knew she was Adara. She had the same dark hair and big gray eyes as Gair. Her skin was very white, so that the thick, ornate collar on her neck showed up dazzlingly. Though she was not quite as tall as Brenda, she had such dignity that both of them were impressed. She had not the face of someone who would twist you with words. They thought she looked kind.

Brenda drew a deep, wavering breath. “Oh,” she said. “You are beautiful!”

Adara smiled at her. “I was told you wanted to speak to me.”

“Yes,” said Gerald. A little embarrassed because the Dorig were all round watching, with the bees whining overhead, he took Gair's collar out of his pocket and held it out to Adara. “Do you recognize this?”

Adara's pale face became much paler, and her eyes widened. “It's Gair's. What—?”

“It's all right, your ladyship,” said Brenda, seeing what she was thinking. “They're all safe, and they sent us to find out about you. Gair gave us that so that you'd know we weren't—you know—marauding or something.”

“Oh, I see.” Adara was evidently very relieved. She smiled, but, at the same time, they found her looking at them both in a kind, careful, penetrating way which suggested that she might be at least as clever as the Dorig thought. “Tell Gair,” she said, “that not many of us were killed. But they're keeping us prisoner. They want us to take the words off the wells here, and of course I've told them that no one but Gest can do that. It would help if Gair could go to Gest and tell him. Ceri can find Gest. Can you tell them that?”

They said they would.

Adara said, “I'm very grateful to you. Can you tell me another thing—who is turning the Moor into a lake?” She turned to the listening Dorig. “You did say it wasn't you, didn't you?” They nodded and shook their heads and shrugged.

“It's us,” Gerald said glumly. “I mean, the other Giants in London.”

“I understand,” said Adara. “Not very convenient for you, or for us. Thank you. May I have Gair's collar, or did he give it you to keep?”

“Er—to keep, I think,” Gerald said. “But you can have it if you like.”

“Did he say words on it?” Adara asked. Gerald nodded. “Then I wouldn't dream of taking it,” said Adara. She seemed about to say something else, but, at that moment, the quacking lady made a determined effort to break out and the Dorig heaved back against her. The bees, seeing them busy, once more zoomed in.

“You'll have to finish now,” one of the Dorig shouted over his shoulder, sounding very irritated.

Adara was borne away backward. The next second, the hillside rumbled and became smooth turf again, with bees angrily buzzing against it. They were the only sign that Adara or the Dorig had ever been there.

“Like a dream!” sighed Brenda. “Wasn't she lovely?”

As soon as the two Giants were on their way, Gair knew he would have to find the chilly pulsing evil in the house. Though he did not want to in the least, he said, “Let's seal all the doors and windows and explore.”

Ayna and Ceri were surprised at his sudden enthusiasm, but they agreed willingly enough. For the next hour or so, they enjoyed themselves more than they had thought possible, rambling through the vast square spaces of the Giant house. The amount of room Giants seemed to need astonished them. “I suppose it's because they're so clumsy,” Ayna suggested. But none of them could explain why the Giants needed to possess so many things. Each room was crowded with clocks, candlesticks, boots, guns, jugs and many other things. One room downstairs was full of stiff chairs and dozens of little statues made of varnished and painted clay. They wondered if this meant it was a holy place, and shut the door reverently. Then Ayna opened another door down a short passage.

As soon as she did so, Gair knew they were near the evil thing. The whole square space reeked of it. He was amazed that Ayna and Ceri did not feel it. They were delighted with this room. It was a dark paneled room whose diamond windows looked out on a garden. It had easy old chairs, a shabby desk, big bookshelves and things stacked carelessly in corners. Ayna and Ceri inspected a stuffed pike, which Ceri thought might be a Dorig, and a long wooden thing with a blue blade, which Ayna thought might be a special kind of spade. They opened some of the books. But the writing was quite strange and the only thing they understood was the pictures. Ayna gave the books up and went through the drawers of the desk. She found sets of false teeth in the first and burst out laughing. Then she opened the second.

A wave of cold pulsing horror hit Gair. It was so searingly strong that he had to push his way across the room toward it.

“Oh!” said Ayna. “Look, Ceri. This is almost like Mother's.” She put her hand out to pick up the thing in the drawer.

“Don't touch it!”
shouted Gair.

Ayna snatched her hand back and stared at him. “Why not?”

“It's got a curse on it.” Gair brought himself up to the drawer and made himself look in. A beautiful gold collar lay there, rich and lustrous, in spite of a film of dust. It was almost the twin of Adara's, except that where the knobs at each end of hers were in the shape of hawks' heads, this one had two staring owls. The cold blast of evil beat off the green gold into Gair's face. Every twist in the pattern was loaded with horror. It was so strongly bad that Gair felt weak and ill. No wonder the house had pulsed, with a thing like this in it!

“How do you know it's got a curse on it?” said Ceri. “You're just guessing.”

“Use your sense,” said Gair, gasping from the deadly cold of the thing. “No one's wearing it, and you can see by the dust it's been in that drawer for years. It ought to have gone back to ore ages ago. Only a curse can keep gold like that.”

“Quite right,” said Ayna. “Only you shouted at me before you looked at it.” She began shivering. “I'd rather have your Gift than mine, Gair.”

“Would you?” said Gair. “It makes me feel dreadful.” He stood, turned sideways to look at the collar because the emanation from it seemed easier to bear like that, feeling sick and helpless. He could not touch the thing. He had no idea how to raise a curse, and yet he knew he should try. He owed it to Gerald, for his help, and he was fairly sure this collar was poisoning not only Gerald's life, but all the lives on the Moor.

“You do look sick,” Ceri said wonderingly.

They all looked sick the next second. There was a violent clattering. A shrill Giant voice shouted, “Gerald,
Gerald
! What have you done to this door? Let me in at
once
!”

“Oh dear!” said Ayna, and guiltily slid the drawer shut.

“Gerald!”
shrieked the voice.
Clatter, clatter
.

“We can't keep someone out of their own house,” said Ceri.

Bunching together for safety, they hurried toward the clattering front door. It was bouncing in its frame. Tremulously, Ayna spoke the words, and they all prepared to run.

The door flew open and a tall Giant lady in an ugly hat darted in before they could move. “Gerald— Oh!” She stared at the three strange little children, wondering why two of them were wearing necklaces. “Who on earth are
you
?”

Ceri looked at his speechless sister and brother and saw that it was up to him. And it was going to be difficult. This Giantess was tired and cross already, and he could tell she did not care for strangers or like children. He went forward, shamelessly using his most charming smile, and held out his hand politely.

“The Sun bless you. We were waiting for Gerald.”

The Giantess looked puzzled. Her hand came jerkily forward, and stopped before it reached Ceri's.

Ceri allowed his smile to fade and his big blue eyes to stare sadly. “I'm glad you've come. We were lonely.”

The Giantess's hand reached out to Ceri's. An uncertain smile flickered at her mouth and pulled it wider. “Are you all alone in the house? That's too bad of Gerald! How do you do? I'm Gerald's Aunt Mary.”

Gair and Ayna did not dare look at one another, but they relaxed and sighed.

The two Giants stopped short, seeing the square brown car beside the moat.

“My aunt's back,” said Gerald.

“I'd better go home,” Brenda said uneasily.

“No, don't. We may have to rescue them,” said Gerald.

He left Brenda loitering heavily in the hall and tiptoed to the kitchen, not knowing what to expect. He could hear clattering. The first thing he saw was Ayna and Ceri slowly and seriously buttering scones. Next, he heard Aunt Mary's voice, more cheerful than he had ever heard it before, calling out to Gair as he pattered about with crockery. And they said they didn't do magic! Gerald thought.

Aunt Mary saw Gerald. Her face took on its more usual sharp shape. She pulled him out into the passage and began to talk in a flustered whisper. “Really, Gerald, you might tell me when you invite your friends here! It was fearfully awkward. And there's this Mr. Claybury coming here this evening, too, and you
know
how important that is!”

“I'm sorry,” said Gerald. He wondered whether they could get Ayna, Gair and Ceri to Brenda's house without going past the moat where the Dorig lurked. “I'll take them away, shall I?”

“Don't be so thoughtless!” hissed his aunt. “Of course they must stay. But Mr. Claybury's got to have the good spare room, so will the boys mind doubling in with you? Ayna can have the small room next to yours.”

“That—that's perfect,” said Gerald, trying not to show his amazement. He knew how Aunt Mary hated strangers and loathed having visitors. Wondering whether he was trying her unusual hospitality too far, he added, “Brenda's here, actually. She could help with beds and so on.”

Aunt Mary disliked Brenda and Brenda's parents, too. But she said, “That would be a help. I suppose I'd better give the child tea in return.” Then, just as Gerald was breathing deeply and thinking that the crisis was miraculously over, Aunt Mary bobbed her head down and whispered, “Those extraordinary names! And they are so small for their ages, Gerald. But I think I see. Tea's ready.”

Wondering wildly just what Aunt Mary thought she saw, Gerald went to fetch Brenda. Over scones round the kitchen table, it emerged that Aunt Mary thought Ayna, Gair and Ceri came from Malaysia. Brenda looked at their faces and breathed in half a scone.

While Gerald was pounding Brenda on the back, Ceri leaned back from the vibrating table and looked Aunt Mary limpidly in the eye. “I'm afraid we don't remember Masaylia at all.”

“Malaysia!” hissed Ayna.

“Or that either,” said Ceri.

Gair looked at Gerald over Brenda's coughing back, and they both prayed.

“Of course not, dear,” said Aunt Mary. “More tea?”

After that, Gerald took them all away upstairs to make beds as soon as he could.

“I'm sorry,” said Ayna. “Ceri never knows when to stop. I wish our aunt was as nice as yours. Did you— Garholt—?”

For a while, Gerald feared there would be a crisis of a different kind. When they heard Brenda and Gerald had actually talked with Adara, Ayna and Gair turned chalk white. Ceri sat bolt upright on Gerald's bed with big tears rolling down his cheeks. Brenda, at the sight of him, forgot all the suspicions the Dorig had raised in her and threw both large arms round Ceri. Ceri gasped rather, but it seemed to comfort him.