by S J Howland
‘Please excuse, but I think these two need a healer,’ he rumbled apologetically, but Xander saw the quick flicker of amusement in his eyes as he straightened.
It was quite satisfying to see Flint rendered speechless. Mrs Stanton and James hurried forward to bend over the two prone figures, while Flint swung around to stare at Xander.
‘Any chance of an explanation here?’ he demanded, his eyes flicking between Xander and Rafe, who was suppressing a smile. He pulled out a chair by the table and gestured abruptly to the other side. They all sat, and Xander glanced at Rafe.
‘Oh no,’ said Rafe, with a wry grin. ‘This is definitely your story to tell.’
A small crowd gathered around them as Xander, Ollie and Len once again poured out the story of the last couple of weeks, culminating in the events of tonight. They were incoherent, and fairly obvious in their avoidance of naming Xander’s rescuers, but Flint just sat back in his chair, listening without interrupting, although his eyebrows shot up at several points in the story. After they had finished, there was a short silence, and then Flint let out a long breath and stared at the ceiling. Xander felt the tension pinning him to his chair.
‘Well,’ said Flint finally, in an even voice. ‘I would suggest that you appear to have an absolute genius for trouble, but that wouldn’t take into account the apparent determination of trouble to seek you out.’
He shook his head and then, to Xander’s shock, started to laugh, his eyes crinkling. Rafe’s lips quirked as well and Xander stared blankly at them both. Amusement was definitely not the response he had expected.
‘Right, if you’re all quite finished,’ said Mrs Stanton, bustling up with a stern expression on her face. ‘It’s very late and these three children need to be in bed. Any further discussion can be postponed until the morning, which is almost here.’
‘But Gran,’ protested Ollie, but she would have none of it.
Xander did not object, admitting to himself that the only place he wanted to be right now was in bed. The re-telling of the story to Flint had brought home to him how much had happened in the past day, and he felt heavy with exhaustion. He stood up, swaying slightly, and then felt a firm grip on his shoulder. Flint had come around the table and was standing in front of him, his intense blue eyes warmer than Xander ever remembered.
‘Having said all that,’ he said quietly, ignoring Mrs Stanton’s tutting, ‘you’ve done us proud. I still don’t know what brought you here but, whatever it was, I’m grateful for it.’
Xander was embarrassed to feel tears suddenly pricking at the back of his eyes, but Flint seemed to understand, squeezing his shoulder again before turning away to speak to Rafe. Xander barely remembered stumbling upstairs or kicking off his shoes before falling into bed, too exhausted to do anything else, but as he plunged down into deep sleep, it was buoyed with the memory of Flint’s approving look.
*
The sun was shining brightly through the window, filling the room with golden light, when Xander woke up. He could hear heavy breathing coming from Ollie’s corner and for a moment, as he shifted uncomfortably, he wondered why he was wearing his trousers in bed. He sat up, groggily pushing the hair out of his face, and his eyes fell on the papers scattered across the floor, covered in sigils and star patterns. Memory shot through him like an electric current, bringing him upright with his feet on the floor in a moment, staring wide-eyed around the room. The events of the day before had a dream-like quality, and he needed some confirmation that it had all actually happened. He grabbed a pillow and hurled it into the back of Ollie’s head.
‘Wha –?’ Ollie’s voice was thick with sleep. ‘Why does ever’one keep doing that?’
‘Wake up,’ said Xander. ‘I need to talk to you.’
‘What’s up?’ Ollie was never quick to wake up at the best of times and now he rolled over reluctantly, his sandy hair standing on end, before looking down at himself in confusion. ‘I’m dressed?’
His eyes suddenly widened, and he sat up abruptly.
‘There it is,’ grinned Xander, as he tugged on his shoes.
‘I can’t believe all that really happened,’ said Ollie, before leaping up and diving for the door. ‘Bathroom first,’ he threw over his shoulder.
Five minutes later, both boys, looking rather rumpled, were pounding down the stairs. After all the turmoil and crowds of yesterday, the house was peaceful and warm sunshine poured in at every window. The kitchen door stood ajar and Xander pushed it open. The room was almost deserted, with only the solitary figure of Len at the table, eating a bowl of cereal. She glanced up as they came in and smiled condescendingly.
‘Finally up, are we?’ she said.
‘Yeah, right,’ retorted Ollie. ‘Pull the other one. You’ve only just got up yourself, haven’t you?’
Len grinned, dropping the superior air. ‘You don’t know that.’
‘Yes, I do,’ returned Ollie. ‘You’ve still got pillow creases on your face.’
‘Where is everyone?’ asked Xander, interrupting before they could progress to bickering. The kitchen looked so normal and peaceful it was hard to believe that only a few hours ago Latchet and Simm had been lying unconscious on the floor.
‘No idea,’ said Len, shrugging. ‘Haven’t seen anyone yet.’
The front door banged, and they all turned to see who was home. There were swift footsteps on the stone floor and then Mrs Stanton swept into the kitchen, looking as immaculate as ever and certainly not as if she had been up half of the night. Her eyes took in the three of them and she smiled.
‘Good,’ she said briskly. ‘I hoped you were all up by now. You were flat out when I checked on you an hour ago.’
Ollie pulled a face at Len, who grimaced cheerfully back at him.
‘What’s been happening while we were asleep?’ asked Xander, anxiously.
Mrs Stanton began filling up the kettle.
‘Well, it’s been quite a morning, I can tell you,’ she said, but her tart tone was softened by a surprisingly mischievous smile. ‘The Council is in emergency session, mostly flapping like flummoxed chickens and achieving very little, but that’s pretty much expected. The only thing that they seem to have firmly determined is that none of them are responsible in any way.’ She sniffed contemptuously and then glanced over at Xander. ‘They do want to speak to you, dear.’
‘Me?’
Xander felt a lurch of fear and it must have shown on his face because Mrs Stanton gave him a reassuring look.
‘Don’t worry, you won’t be going there alone. Flint and some other Travellers will be with you, and Reeve as well if we can drag him out of the Pavilions.’
Xander offered her a wavering smile, but he felt ill at the thought of standing before all those people in the enormous Council chamber.
‘What about Simm and Latchet?’ asked Ollie, around a mouthful of bread and honey.
‘Ah,’ said Mrs Stanton, a slight hesitation in her voice. ‘Well, Latchet only had a mild concussion and was suffering from shade exposure. He’s recovering, although he may soon wish that he was not. The list of charges against him is mounting, and I don’t think the investigation will treat him very kindly. He claims to have no memory of what happened in the Pavilions and that he was just following Simm’s orders. We’ll see how that pans out for him.’
‘And Simm?’ asked Len.
Mrs Stanton looked evasive. ‘He appears physically fine,’ she said.
‘He completely lost it last night,’ said Ollie, rolling his eyes. ‘I mean, he was always a bit weird, but he was ranting and raving like a nutcase. Pretty freaky, actually.’
Mrs Stanton ignored this, putting a sandwich in front of Xander with a swift look at his pale face. ‘Eat up,’ she said gently. ‘We need to leave in a minute.’
Under her firm gaze, Xander choked down some food and a cup of strong tea. Mrs Stanton also insisted that he shower, and change into something less wrinkled. Anxiety continued to gnaw in Xander’s stomach, but he had
to admit that he felt better when he was clean and dressed in fresh clothes. They all headed out together, walking down to the Wykeham Gate. Len nudged him with her elbow as they went, and he glanced over at her. Mrs Stanton had sent Ollie and Len to wash as well and her damp hair, smelling strongly of lavender shampoo, swung over her face. She smiled at him.
‘Don’t worry,’ she murmured. ‘It’s not like they can do anything to you. You’re not even from Haven. Maybe they just want to say thanks.’
‘Maybe,’ muttered Xander, but he was not reassured. She was right about the fact that Haven was not his home and he didn’t have a place here, however welcoming the Stantons were, and however much he had grown to like it. This whole episode had caused a lot of damage and expense, and Xander was gloomily certain that he would be blamed for at least some of it. He didn’t think they could actually lock him up, but they could decide to banish him from Haven and he felt sick at the thought of never seeing it again.
All in all, Xander was feeling thoroughly pessimistic by the time they reached Fountain Square and the steps of the Council chamber. He felt a twinge of relief as he spotted Flint, Rafe and Reeve waiting for him in front of the door. Rafe gave him a reassuring smile, but Xander was shocked to see the damage to his face in the clear sunlight. He was still bruised and scraped, despite the clear evidence of Mrs Stanton’s healing work, and Xander remembered with a shiver how Simm had launched himself at the Traveller, shrieking and ranting. Callan Reeve looked absolutely exhausted, his untidy black hair even more of a contrast with his pale, tired face, but his eyes were glowing with satisfaction and he was the first to speak.
‘You’ve got to come and see,’ he said to them, without even a greeting. ‘It’s all coming back online and it’s breath-taking. The complexity is something I have never seen before – it’ll take a lifetime to study, maybe more.’
‘Save it for inside,’ broke in Flint, characteristically impatient. ‘Come on, they’re all waiting for us.’
Far too quickly for Xander’s jangled nerves, they passed through the atrium to the security point where Pritchard was on duty again. He tipped his cap to Xander with a gap-toothed grin.
‘We’ll have to be getting you a permanent access card soon,’ he said with a wink.
Flint looked sharply at Xander, one eyebrow raised quizzically, but didn’t comment. The noise from the chamber had been evident from the moment they had entered the building, muffled by the great doors into a loud hum, like a busy hive full of bees. When they walked into the chamber it reached a sudden peak and then died down to a low, whispering murmur.
It seemed to Xander, his heart thumping rapidly, that the place had never been so full and that every eye there was burning into him as he walked between Flint and Rafe. He ducked his head and was grateful when they reached the small group, which had evidently been waiting for him to the left of the main dais. Ari’s red hair was a beacon among them and Xander edged his way through to stand beside her, insulated by the others from the staring eyes. She turned to him with a grin and Xander noticed that she had a bandage on her arm.
‘Finally decided to re-join the living then?’ she said in an amused voice. ‘You’ve missed some real fun and games here.’
‘What happened to you?’ asked Xander.
Ari shrugged. ‘Got a bit exciting at Mistleberry,’ she said casually. ‘Thanks for the warning, by the way. We took extra people there, which was lucky because the place was literally crawling with shades. It was starting to get pretty bad, but then the air started shimmering like a rainbow and all the shades disappeared. Apparently that was your handiwork?’
Xander flushed but Ari just gave him a mock pout.
‘I can’t believe after all the time I spent training you, that you upped and left me out of all the fun,’ she said, teasingly. ‘Most unfair.’
‘We clearly have different definitions of the word fun,’ retorted Xander. He paused and then asked in a rush. ‘Will I have to stand up there and tell about everything?’ His throat tightened as he asked and his fingernails dug into his palms.
Ari smiled and shook her head.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘Rafe and Flint already briefed them this morning.’
Xander’s head shot up. ‘What? About everything?’
‘Hardly,’ replied Ari, with a roll of her eyes. ‘Need to know only. Flint is good at skating where necessary.’
Why am I here, then? Xander wondered silently. He wished he could have heard what they had said, so he didn’t disclose anything he shouldn’t when it was his turn. Suddenly, he heard Callan Reeve’s voice, calmly replying to a question, and realised that he was already up on the podium. Reeve did not appear at all concerned by the formality of the occasion and was answering with all the enthusiasm of a professor lecturing on his favourite subject. Judging from the somewhat perplexed looks of several Council members, Reeve’s explanations were more detailed than they expected. Xander smiled, despite his worry about his own summons.
Enid Ingram finally leant forward, her eyes bright behind her spectacles.
‘Young man, we are unfortunately not all blessed with your technical expertise,’ she said in her precise voice. ‘Are we to understand that what your team activated last night is in fact the original Core on Haven, of which our current power sources are merely adjuncts?’
Reeve beamed at her. ‘That is correct, Councillor.’
‘And are we further correct in thinking the power from this restored Core will now rectify all the recent, regrettable incidents with border integrity and power surges?’ she continued.
‘That is our current belief, Councillor,’ replied Reeve. ‘Hopefully, the joint team working there will confirm this shortly, but it appears that the incursions disappeared the moment that the Core came back on line.’
‘Well,’ said Ingram, sitting back in her chair with an air of relief and eying Melville and Larcius sharply. ‘It seems all has been resolved to our satisfaction then.’
Barton Ferrars harrumphed in agreement. ‘Hear, hear,’ he said happily. ‘It’s also most fitting that this enterprise should have healed the painful divisions between humans and hobs. Joint team, eh? Most gratifying indeed.’ He beamed around at everyone.
Felix Larcius’ face looked like he had bitten into something particularly sour, but Melville’s expression was as smooth as ever, his smile silky and condescending.
‘Oh, quite,’ Melville drawled, his gaze flickering over to where Xander stood, half-hidden behind Flint’s broad back. ‘However, I find myself still curious on a number of matters, including how that boy came to acquire the key to reactivate the original Core, not to mention the knowledge of its location, which we are led to believe had been lost for at least a century.’ A malicious smile flickered over his face as his cold grey eyes met Xander’s own worried ones. ‘How fortunate that he is here now. No doubt he will be able to provide explanations to us. I summon the outlander boy to the stand.’
Xander’s throat tightened as Melville gestured to him, and it felt like every eye was once more staring at him. He stumbled towards the podium, which seemed to rear up above him ready to expose him like a sacrifice. Reeve passed him on the way down and briefly squeezed his arm.
‘Don’t worry,’ he murmured. ‘It’ll be fine.’
Xander strongly doubted that as he climbed up the steps, his eyes on the floor while he wished fervently that he was anywhere but here. All too soon, he reached the top and reluctantly looked up at the Council members but, to his surprise, none of them were looking at him and Melville had an annoyed frown on his face.
Xander shot a look over his shoulder and felt a surge of relief. Flint was standing there behind him, hands in his pockets and wearing a bland smile as he gazed back at the Council.
Irini Latimer spoke first, her beautiful features cold and her lips thin with irritation. ‘I believe that we have already heard from you today, Mr Flint,’ she snapped. ‘It is the boy’s testimony that we require now.’
<
br /> Flint continued to smile.
‘And you shall have it, Councillor. Xander is, however, a minor and therefore he is entitled to an Advocate. I’m quite certain that none of us would wish for a breach of the Council’s protocols here.’
Latimer’s eyes narrowed but Barton Ferrars leant forward over the table, flapping his hands reassuringly.
‘Of course, of course. Quite right, entirely appropriate. We shouldn’t be questioning the young fellow without an Advocate,’ he said, nodding in affirmation.
Xander noticed that not only did Melville, Larcius and Latimer look put out, but that a frown also chased across the pleasant face of Randall Hackett. Enid Ingram looked at him with her piercing eyes, but her face was not unkind.
‘I understand that you are not from Haven? You are in fact an outlander?’ Ingram said. Xander nodded, and she continued. ‘We further understand that you had no knowledge of Haven before you used the Stone to travel here?’
Xander nodded again.
‘In that case, may I ask why the hobgoblins gifted you, a stranger here, with such a significant artefact as the orb which you wear on your wrist?’
Xander swallowed and then cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘They said something about it being in my blood and that they had been waiting for me,’ he said, his voice sounding high and unnatural in the silence. ‘I didn’t really understand it myself. The hobs don’t tend to explain their reasoning.’
A flicker of a smile crossed Ingram’s face, and she nodded, but Melville leant forward, his expression twisted with disbelief.
‘Oh, come now,’ he sneered. ‘You cannot expect us to believe that they handed over such a powerful and significant stone to a strange boy for this garbled explanation.’ He glared at Xander.
Before Xander could muster a reply, Flint’s firm voice rang out from behind him.
‘I believe, Councillor, that the point is the hobs themselves were unaware of the actual significance of the stone. Its origins were lost in time and only a fragment of an instruction survived to hand it over when the right person came along. In their minds, Xander was that person. They certainly had no idea that it would be instrumental in re-activating their ancient Core, since they didn’t know that it existed.’