by Lari Don
Sylvie interrupted, “I don’t trust that shiny faery and his stupid smiles. Perhaps I should have gone with Helen.”
Catesby shook his feathery head and said, “You may not trust Lee, but Yann does and I do. He’s visited us many times this past year, and in return for archery tutoring, he’s taught Yann swordplay and duelling. Once Lee stops trying to look cool, he’s fine. He’s less of a prat when there aren’t girls about too.”
Sylvie said, “He’s going on a quest with Helen and Sapphire. They’re both girls.”
“He is Yann’s friend,” Catesby insisted. “He’s here to save Yann, just like the rest of us. Come on, furball and petal person, we have a long way to fly.”
Sylvie growled, then flickered from her wolf form into a girl. “Don’t call me furball, cinders.”
“Sorry, furless girl!”
Sylvie grabbed at him, but he flapped out of reach, chattering with laughter. She growled again, then they followed Lavender round to the gleaming head of the white dragon. Catesby put on a serious face and all of them bowed their heads.
Lavender said, “Noble Jewel, we wish to search for the gem at the Sutors of Cromarty, so we should fly to the Cromarty Firth, then find the best place to land near the cliffs. Do you agree?”
Jewel nodded, then peered at them down her pale nose. “I thought I was taking the wolf,” she chirped, in the highest, most musical dragon voice Catesby had ever heard. “Where did the wolf go?”
“I was the wolf,” said Sylvie, “but I changed.”
The dragon looked confused.
“So I can hold onto your spikes,” Sylvie explained, “with my hands.”
Jewel still looked confused. Sylvie held up her hands.
“Oh!” The dragon’s pink eyes got wider. “You were the wolf, now you’re a girl! Clever! Those hands will make it easier to stay on my back!”
Sylvie sighed. “So they will. I hadn’t thought of that.” She walked round the dragon, shaking her head and muttering, “We’ve not got a very bright spark here.”
Catesby shrugged. “So long as she can fly.” Then he noticed the line of centaurs watching anxiously from the bottom of the steps. He swooped over and hovered in front of Yann’s mother.
“Don’t worry, Mallow. There are three quests, going in three directions. We’ll return soon with three healing tokens. You just keep his heart beating while we’re away, and Yann will be fine.”
Mallow reached up and stroked the phoenix’s head. “I hope you don’t put yourselves at risk for my son, Catesby. I hope you are all sensible and careful.”
Catesby ducked away. “We’ll do as much for Yann as he would do for us.”
She frowned. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Please come back safe, Catesby.”
He nodded to her, bowed in the air to Petros and flew back to his friends, who were already on the back of the dragon. Lavender nestled in Sylvie’s hair and Catesby perched on the wolf-girl’s shoulder. Sylvie used her useful human hands to grasp Jewel’s pearly spikes as the dragon leapt into the air.
It wasn’t comfortable for the phoenix to be a passenger. He’d prefer to fly at his own speed and height. But his plumage, newly grown since he burnt up then re-hatched, still wasn’t strong enough to race a dragon in flight. So he tried to concentrate on the task ahead. He was doing this for Yann, for his best friend. And for the centaur herd, who had always made him welcome.
It felt strange to set off on an adventure without Yann. They might insult each other as often as possible, but Catesby always trusted the centaur’s strength, good sense and courage. Maybe he’d be useless on a quest without Yann to guide and goad him.
He wasn’t on his own, though. Lavender was so small a fast breeze could blow her off course, but she had more wisdom and magical knowledge than any of his other friends. And Sylvie was rude and selfish, but she was also single-minded, brave and ruthless.
Catesby gulped a breath of fast air and tried to think positively, listing his friends’ powers and skills, remembering their victories. How could they fail to save Yann?
But as they sped up the high spine of Scotland, he remembered the bright colour of his best friend’s blood.
He couldn’t imagine life without Yann. They had to find the token. However, Catesby had no idea what they were actually looking for. After speaking to the oldest centaur and listening to information Rona brought back from the Fife coast, Lavender had simply decided where they were heading.
Catesby leant closer to Lavender’s head and Sylvie’s ear. “So what are we doing, nectar-nibbler?”
“Don’t call me that,” whispered the flower fairy, “or I’ll tell everyone about that feather mite infestation you had last month.”
“Shhh!” But it was too late. Sylvie was already sniggering and pretending to scratch.
Castesby sighed. “Very well, Lavender Flowerdew, most wise fairy, what are we doing and where are we going?”
Lavender raised her tiny voice to reach both of them in the rushing wind. “The paired cliffs are most likely the North and South Sutors of Cromarty, headlands facing each other across the Cromarty Firth. Giant shoemakers or sutors used them as workbenches in ancient times. They threw pieces of leather and tools across the firth to each other.”
Sylvie said, “What about the gems the Three asked for?”
Lavender smiled. “The Fife selkies told Rona a legend about an ancient gem in the cliff face of the North Sutor. The gem is visible only from a distance, with moonlight shining on it. It looks like a great treasure, and many humans and fabled beasts have tried to remove it, to sell it or tap its ancient power. But it either vanishes or is invisible close up, because anyone who climbs the cliff finds nothing but bare rock.”
“How will we find it then?” said Sylvie.
“Catesby can hover far enough away to see it in the moonlight and guide me towards it.”
“And what do I do?” asked Sylvie. “Am I just along for the ride?”
“You’re our bodyguard and sentry. Many magical objects have guards. Wings are the most useful things for this quest, but your teeth might also be necessary.”
“Your hands are useful now too,” pointed out Catesby, as the dragon swerved round a mountain top and Sylvie grasped the spikes tighter.
It was a long journey to Cromarty, so Catesby dozed, knowing that his roosting reflex would keep him secure on Sylvie’s shoulder.
He woke up when the dragon slowed down. First he was aware of water below them. But it wasn’t the wide sea, it was a long firth, a stretch of sea reaching inland. The water was dotted with human-built towers, speckled with lights. The dragon flew high above them, heading for the mouth of the firth, which was narrowed by two rocky headlands. On Lavender’s shouted instructions, the dragon turned left towards the northern headland and landed on the top of a grassy slope leading down to the cliff.
Catesby stretched his wings and flapped off Sylvie’s shoulder. “Thanks. You’re a good perch.”
The wolf-girl stretched. “I’m not a branch, you know. Your claws are sharp and you’re heavier when you’re asleep.”
“Sorry. I forget you’re more delicate when you’re a girl!”
Sylvie growled and slid off the dragon. Lavender fluttered out from her hair and looked up at the night sky.
The moon was high and bright, with only the occasional cloud blocking its light. “Excellent,” said Lavender. “If those clouds don’t get any thicker and the gem shines in the moonlight, we’ll get a good view of it.”
Sylvie twitched her head sideways to draw her friends away from Jewel, then muttered, “Are we taking this daft dragon with us to the cliff or leaving her here?”
Lavender frowned. “The offer from the dragons was for transport only. I don’t think we can involve Jewel in the actual quest. Anyway, even small dragons are very heavy, so she might make the cliff edge crumble. Shall we leave her here?”
The other two nodded, so Lavender flew round to the dragon’s head to thank her for
the journey and request that she wait for them on the hill. Jewel shrugged and laid her head on her clawed forelegs.
Sylvie flickered into her wolf form and sprinted downhill.
Catesby followed, at a slower speed so Lavender wasn’t left behind. They flew down the hill, swooped over a line of huge concrete curves, which the phoenix thought were gun emplacements from an old human war, then flapped over a low fence. They found the panting wolf, tongue hanging out and eyes bright, on the very edge of the cliff.
They all looked down into the darkness.
Chapter 14
“We won’t see any gems from up here,” sighed Lavender. “Catesby and I had better fly out to sea.”
“I’ll have to stay on dry land,” Sylvie growled. “I’ll stand guard here, to make sure nothing approaches the cliff.”
So the phoenix and the fairy flew off the cliff and over the firth.
“Is it windier out here?” Lavender asked nervously.
“This breeze isn’t strong enough to blow you away,” Catesby reassured her.
“I hope this is far enough,” Lavender said, as they reached the middle of the firth. They banked round in the air, then hovered and stared at the North Sutor.
The moonlight was bright enough for them to see the pale wolf on the cliff edge. But they couldn’t see anything glitter on the rock below her.
Lavender sighed. “Maybe we came to the wrong cliffs.”
A cloud slid over the moon and the world went black. Lavender shrieked and dived under Catesby’s wings. Then the cloud slid off and the moon shone out again.
“There!” the phoenix called. “I saw it, a silver-white gleam in that first flash of moonlight. I saw it!” Then he shook his head. “But it’s gone again.”
Lavender peered out from under his wing. “You saw it? In the first moonbeam?”
“Yes, it was halfway down the cliff, just to the west of Sylvie.”
“So the clouds are our friends rather than our enemies,” said Lavender. “I’ll fly to the cliff; you guide me when the next cloud passes.”
“No, Lavender, I think you should guide me in.”
“Why?”
“I’m not calling you small, my friend,” the phoenix said gently, “but the gem would have to be lighter than the sequins on Lee’s party waistcoat for you to carry it. And you’re not really big enough for me to see you from a distance, so how can I guide you?”
“You’ll see me if I carry a lightball, and if I can’t get the gem out, I’ll mark its place. Please. I don’t want to be out here alone in this unpredictable wind above the waves.”
The phoenix nodded. “Aim for halfway between Sylvie and the sea, and I’ll guide you from there.”
Lavender flew towards the cliff, lighting the end of her wand. Catesby saw the fluffy edge of a cloud start to eat away at the moon and called, “Ready!” as the night went black.
He waited. The cloud drifted slowly across the moon. Then suddenly the moon glowed again and he saw a cold glitter on the cliff, below Lavender’s warm lightball.
He marked the place in his mind before it vanished, then squawked as loudly as he could, “Down ten yards. West a bit. You must be close now. Can you see it, can you feel it?”
He glanced up again. There were no clouds approaching the moon. “Lavender, did you find it?”
He heard a faint voice. “No, just bare rock.”
“Stay there. I’ll get you closer next time.”
He bobbed up and down on the air, searching for currents which would support his weight without pulling him out of position.
The moon vanished again. Catesby held his breath.
The moonbeam reappeared, and he saw how close Lavender was to the gem. “Down just a few inches! You’re at it! You must be able to touch it!”
Catesby heard a squeal and saw Lavender’s light tumble off the cliff, falling towards the sea. He shot through the air, but before he reached her, the fairy slowed her fall and fluttered upwards.
That squeal had sounded like Rona when she saw a spider. Catesby was fond of spiders; they tasted like oatcakes. But it can’t have been a spider which made Lavender squeal. She lived among flowers and bushes; creepy-crawlies didn’t shock her.
The phoenix and the fairy met in the air, a safe distance from the rocky outcrops of the Sutor.
“Did you find it?” Catesby asked urgently.
“I didn’t see it, not even in the first moonlight. But I did feel it. I think it’s a buckle, the sort of thing Lee would wear. A metal square, with tiny sharp gems round the edge. Perhaps the sutors dropped it when they were making a fancy shoe.”
“Why did you squeal?”
“Because the buckle is guarded.”
“By spiders?”
“Not by spiders! By … I don’t know. I’m not sure what they are.”
Catesby flew up the cliff until his eye was attracted by movement in the moonlight. He saw skinny shapes with long tails and short legs, writhing round a bare piece of rock.
More of the creatures were appearing out of crevices all over the cliff, scuttling towards that one spot, opening their tiny sharp-toothed mouths, flicking their forked tongues at him.
Lavender hovered behind him. “That’s what I screamed at. What are they?”
“Lizards.”
“I don’t think so. There’s something odd about them.”
Catesby flew closer. “They are lizards. Tails, claws, scuttling. Definitely lizards.” Then he looked again. Each lizard had a different skin colour and pattern. But they weren’t scaly, they were smooth. They were covered in…
“Leather!” said Lavender. “They’re made of shoe leather. Yuck!” She darted straight up to the clifftop.
Catesby followed and found her cuddled between Sylvie’s ears. The fairy was explaining what they’d seen. “… and they’re made of leather. They must be the cut-offs from the sutors’ shoemaking. Ancient leather, come to life and guarding the buckle. They aren’t real lizards. They’re something dark and magical, something resentful of being cast off.”
Catesby shrugged. “They’re still little and lizardy.”
Sylvie said, “Shut up a minute, mite-scratcher, and let Lavender recover.”
“I’m fine. I knew it might be guarded, but I don’t like things which scuttle and they all ran at me…”
“But you’re safe up here,” Sylvie said, “and now we’ve found the gem. So, can your magic get rid of the lizards?”
“I’m the worst in my class at combat magic, because my hands get shaky and I sometimes drop my wand. But I can try.”
“Don’t be daft,” said Catesby. “I have a beak and claws. And I’m not bothered by scuttling; I sometimes eat scuttling things. I don’t really want to eat lizards made of smelly old shoe leather, but I could give them a peck. They were circling round a bare bit of cliff. That must be where the buckle is. So I don’t even need you to guide me, Lavender.” He puffed out his chest feathers. “I will get the gem for Yann.”
Catesby swooped down to the shifting knot of polished leather: grey, black, brown and blue, with beady eyes and flicking tongues. The lizards were writhing in a tangled ring round a small patch of rock. The buckle must be in the middle. Even though he couldn’t see the gem, if he could get his claws to that section of cliff, he could grab it.
Catesby wasn’t quite as happy about facing hundreds of toothed and clawed lizards as he’d claimed, but he wasn’t scared either. Most of them weren’t any longer than his primary feathers. Even the biggest black ones weren’t as long as his wingspan. They had teeth, but he had a beak; they had claws, but he had talons.
So he dived towards the bare rock.
Before Catesby reached it, dozens of the lizards leapt off the cliff and threw themselves at him, like leather cut-offs chucked off a bench. They landed on his wings, his neck, his head.
Catesby jerked back from the cliff before more could spring onto him.
He felt the lizards all over him. Clinging and quive
ring, scraping and biting. He couldn’t shake them off. He somersaulted, but they clung on. They wound round him, bending his feathers, making him too heavy for his wings, making him clumsy in the air.
He could hear Lavender squealing his name and Sylvie howling, “What’s happening?”
Catesby was struggling to stay in the air.
He felt a lizard bite the back of his neck. He had to get rid of them before they injured him, or before their weight overcame his wings and he tumbled into the sea.
So Catesby did the only thing he could think of.
He started to burn.
The phoenix let the fire inside his heart spread through his body. He heard sizzling. He smelt burning leather. Some of the weight on his back and wings dropped off.
It was working! But he felt himself grow hotter, and the world began to turn orange and red in his eyes. The moon faded and the cliff slid away.
He felt lighter as more lizards let go. There were almost none of them left. But how much of him was left?
Catesby had been practising using his fire without burning up completely, but it required lots of control. He felt a lizard’s teeth digging into the back of his neck and he desperately wanted to burn it off, to cook it, to melt it. He wanted to become fire.
But if he became fire, he wouldn’t be able to save Yann. He’d be trapped in an egg again.
He had to draw the fire back into his heart. He had to cool down.
The lizard nipped him again. He felt another flash of flame.
Lavender screamed, “No!”
The phoenix tumbled and spiralled in the air, trailing smoke behind him, twisting so fast that the lizard fell. Then he willed the fire back inside, and let the night air cool him.
Then Catesby just flew. He let his wings stretch, his feathers bounce back into shape and his eyes adjust to the moonlight.
He glanced down and saw dozens of lizards in the black water, paddling back to the base of the headland. Then he hovered a safe distance from the hundreds of dry lizards. They leant out from the cliff, waving their front legs at him, holding on by their back legs, like ants waving their antennae. But not as easy to eat.