‘Well, firstly you never asked, and secondly, if you hadn’t asked you weren’t ready to know,’ said Niamh, smiling sweetly.
Quinn returned the smile and shook his head. ‘Serves me right. But how can you do it on that book? Other magic spells don’t work on it.’
‘I’m not touching the book,’ said Niamh. ‘Just bending the space around it.’
‘You’re going to have to teach me that one. It’s the one spell Gill… Balthasar couldn’t get me to master.’
‘Let’s get out of here,’ said Grady. ‘I’m not going to stand around with my hand on your shoulder forever.’
‘You don’t have to,’ said Niamh. ‘I think I can do this without your help now.’
‘You sure?’ said Grady.
‘No. But let’s try anyway.’
Grady shrugged but slowly lifted his hand from Niamh’s shoulder. The spell seemed to waver but the book only briefly shimmered into view before disappearing again.
Niamh sighed and smiled. ‘I can do it,’ she whispered to herself.
‘You’re becoming scary, sis,’ said Grady.
‘I can become a lot scarier yet,’ she said, picking the book up and standing tall. She turned and stalked away from the boys.
Quinn smiled as he watched her go. ‘Your sister is going to be a handful,’ he said to Grady.
‘Like she isn’t already?’ He shook his head and ran to catch up with Niamh. He hoped there were some answers in the book. Answers to what was happening to his sister, and what was happening to him. First voices in the head, and now she was starting to cast spells without his help. The day was turning out to be one surprise after another.
Chapter 4
Leaving the Lair
Despite best intentions there was no hope of reading the book that day. It seemed to the children their parents were intent on leaving them no time to do anything other than continue to practise Murdock’s protocols and learn about the lands at Morrigan’s Lake.
‘It’s hugely important you don’t embarrass the court when you arrive,’ said Grace as she sat with the children in their study poring over books that evening. ‘It’s different around here – you are given some leeway, but at the lake you will be representing the king as part of his family.’
‘Do we really have to do that stupid procession through the streets when we arrive?’ asked Grady, idly flicking over the page of a book.
‘Absolutely,’ said Merritt as he entered the room and pulled up a chair beside Niamh. ‘Everyone expects to see you. It’s the first time you’ve been out of the city, so we have to make a good showing.’
‘Whatever,’ said Grady.
‘Don’t try the “Whatever” thing on the king,’ said Grace. ‘You know what sort of response that will get. Anyway – time for bed. Early start tomorrow.’
‘Oh Mum!’ said the children in unison.
‘Fifteen minutes’ reading and then lights out. Everything is packed and ready. Get a decent night’s sleep. We don’t want you grumpy on the trip down there.’
‘Grumpier, you mean,’ said Merritt quietly.
‘I heard that!’ said Niamh, picking up a cushion on her way out and throwing it at her father.
There was absolutely no possibility of Niamh indulging herself with a sleep-in the following morning (her favourite pastime). The sun was barely touching the horizon before the castle was a hive of activity, with dragons being hitched to coaches, travelling trunks being loaded up and people rushing to and fro.
Niamh and Grady found themselves to be absolutely useless in the bustle of it all. Eventually they made their way down to one of the coaches in which they were to make the trip. Unlike the normal coaches, this one was longer and sleeker and had two dragons connected to it rather than one. A pair of stick-like legs could be seen beneath the bulk of the two creatures.
‘Roland?’ said Niamh, bending down.
A familiar face appeared under the dragon’s scaly stomachs. ‘Ah! There you are. I was beginning to think you two didn’t like me anymore. I’ve barely seen you at the stables this last week.’
‘Blame Mum and Dad,’ said Grady sulkily. ‘They’ve been making us study until our eyes feel like they are about to pop out.’
‘Well, protocols can be tricky things to learn,’ said Roland, adjusting a harness on one of the dragons. As he cinched it a little tighter the beast swung its head round and snorted a tiny ball of flame at him. Roland casually swayed to one side as the fireball sizzled past his face. ‘Calm down, Ethel,’ he said, casting a beady eye back at the dragon. ‘Can’t have the king’s carriage slipping off in mid-flight now, can we,’ he said with a wink at the children.
‘Is this our carriage?’ asked Niamh, peering through the window. The interior looked like a stately train coach with richly lacquered cherry wood and deep seats.
‘Not a hope. But check with McHavering,’ said Roland with a flick of his head towards a smaller, but still impressive looking coach. The friendly face of Hector McHavering smiled back at them from above the spiny back of a dragon that had decided to take a few minutes’ rest by curling up on the ground in an entirely doglike fashion with snout tucked up under tail.
‘Hector!’ the children yelled as they ran over. ‘Are you coming in our coach?’
‘I dinnae think y’d really enjoy a hairy Scotsman in close proximity for five hours, so I’ll be on top for the trip. I like the fresh air. But I will be coming. I could nae trust Ruffleneck to look after the dragons wi oot close direction from me!’
Roland scowled at McHavering. ‘The last set of directions you gave sent me the wrong way down a one-way street filled with angry goblins, so don’t you try and tell those two about my directions!’
Niamh smiled. ‘You’d still be better company than five hours with him!’ she said, thumping Grady on the arm.
‘Tempting I’ll admit, but arrangements are that ye and the prince will be kept company by yer other friends. Grown-ups in one coach and ye lot in t’other.’ McHavering slapped the dragon he was attending on its scaly rump. The beast snorted a stab of flame back at him but unlike Roland, McHavering stood his ground. The flame hit him full on the shoulder but McHavering didn’t even flinch. He patted down a loose thread that had caught fire but the rest of his jacket was completely unharmed.
‘Nice try,’ he said over his shoulder to the dragon, who blinked a baleful eye at him before curling back up again. ‘Flameproof clothing,’ he said, winking at the children. ‘It’s my latest invention, but truth be known I have nae tried it on anything other than these tame brutes. Works a treat!’
‘Try it with Iris’ suggested Grady. ‘A blast from her will really test it oot. I mean out.’
‘A blast from that beastie of yours wouldnae be a test. It’d be suicide and I’m nae that keen on meeting my maker yet.’
A voice across the grounds interrupted them. ‘Niamh! Grady!’ Bree was leaning out of another coach. ‘We’re all in here! Grab your stuff and hop in.’
Niamh and Grady ran towards the coach and dodged between trolls that were hefting luggage onto the coaches. The big stone creatures picked up huge iron bound trunks and, with one enormous hand, threw them up to the top of the coaches where another troll plucked them from the air as if catching tennis balls.
Inside the coach they found Quinn, Hugh, Devin, and Tulliah alongside Bree. ‘Brilliant!’ said Grady. ‘No adults!’
‘Yep,’ smiled Hugh. ‘Mind you, they are probably saying the same thing about us.’
‘Who cares,’ said Grady. ‘No one to tell us what to do for hours!’
‘Ummm. Not quite,’ said a voice from thin air. In the corner of the cabin the disembodied face of Grace appeared floating above a small disc protruding from the wall. ‘We can still check in when we want to and the coach has a charm cast over it to let us know if blood has been spilled – especially between you and your sister.’
‘Oh, Mum!’ said Niamh with sagging shoulders.
Grace smiled the
sort of smile guaranteed to drive any child mad. The face slowly faded from view as Grace gave a cheery ‘See you soon!’
‘The charm isn’t just to stop you two killing each other, you know,’ said Quinn.
‘What else could it be for then?’ said Grady, slumping down into his seat. ‘Honestly! You’d think they take some sort of training course to prevent us having any fun.’
‘I think Quinn is saying that the charm is there for our own protection from … others. You know what I mean. There are still some people out there who might hold a grudge against us for killing Balthasar,’ explained Niamh.
‘You mean a bigger grudge than we have against each other?’ said Grady in mock disbelief. ‘Wow. They must be seriously angry!’
‘What do we do for five hours?’ Niamh asked. The coach didn’t look like it had much in the way of entertainment inside.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Tulliah. I’ve been loading up the iWand at the WAPP store so we’ll have plenty of games. Have you guys tried Wizcraft?’
Niamh and Grady shook their heads.
‘It’s awesome!’ said Bree. ‘It’s a world where you have to choose from a whole bunch of different spells to create trees and buildings and dig for buried treasure and hidden spells. You can even play against anyone else connected to your game using a wacon charm.’
‘What’s a wacon?’ asked Grady.
‘Honestly, Grady!’ exclaimed Hugh. ‘Haven’t you remembered anything we’ve taught you? It’s a wand connection charm. You cast the charm and any iWands close by can connect to you if you want them to. Watch this.’
Hugh pulled out his iWand and flipped it open. He held down a button on the top. A bland elevator voice drifted out from it. ‘How can I help?’ it said.
‘Cast wacon charm,’ said Hugh with extremely clear enunciation.
‘I’m sorry,’ said the voice. ‘I don’t know how to bask bacon farms. Please try again.’
‘Grrrrrr,’ growled Hugh. ‘I hate it when it does that!’
Niamh and Grady chuckled as Hugh pressed the button again.
‘Cast wacon charm,’ he said a little more tersely.
A bright blue spell emanated from the tip of the wand. It grew into a bubble, and enveloped the coach.
‘Try connecting now,’ said Bree. ‘Take your wand out and say “Connect to wacon” like this.’ Bree pulled her wand out, pressed the button and spoke the connecting command. A bright red bubble grew from her wand, expanding the same way the blue one had from Hugh’s.
‘Bree’s iWand wishes to connect,’ said the voice from Hugh’s wand. ‘Allow or reject?’
‘Allow,’ said Hugh as clearly as he could.
‘I’m sorry,’ said the wand. ‘I don’t understand “Have a cow”.’
‘Aaarghh,’ screamed Hugh.
‘Allow or reject?’ said the wand again.
‘Allow!’ shouted Hugh.
‘There’s no need to shout,’ said the wand. ‘I’m only trying to help. Connection established.’
‘Connection established,’ parroted Bree’s wand. Her wand’s voice sounded suspiciously like the lead singer of the latest boy band sensation. Bree blushed at how silly the voice sounded. ‘Sorry – don’t know why it used that voice,’ she said, fiddling with the button. ‘But anyway, that’s how you connect. Go to the WAPP store and download the game. You’ll love it and we can play on the way down to the lake.’
‘What about food and our bags?’ asked Grady, as he tried to call up the WAPP store.
‘There’s a carriage travelling with us that has a whole host of kitchen faeries,’ said Hugh. ‘Anything you want. Anytime.’
‘Anything?’ said Grady smiling.
‘Anything,’ nodded Hugh. ‘Watch this!’ Hugh clapped his hands and called up one of the serving faeries. ‘Chocolate ice cream with strawberry chocolate sauce please.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said the faerie, shaking its head. ‘But we are under strict instructions to make sure you eat only healthy food on the trip. And especially not anything which is likely to cause you to throw up which we believe chocolate ice cream with strawberry chocolate sauce is likely to do. Can I offer you a rice cracker with tofu spread?’
‘Gargghhhh,’ said Grady, feigning a gag.
‘I’ll take that as a No then,’ said the faerie, smiling. ‘Please let me know if there is anything else you would like.’ With a bright flash of light the green-clad creature vanished from the cabin.
‘Nice try!’ said Bree, laughing along with Niamh and Tulliah. Hugh did not look impressed.
A face appeared at the carriage window. ‘All ready? It’s time to head out.’
‘Uncle Garrett!’ said Niamh. ‘Are you on our coach?’
‘No. I’ll be along presently. I have a few things to do first. Keep an eye out for me, though. I’ll catch up.’
Niamh and Grady stuck their heads out the window as voices shouted to stand clear. All along the row of carriages servants scurried away and the runway emptied. The flying guards in their black opalescent outfits mounted their dragons as windows were shuttered along the other coaches. Preparations were interrupted, though, by a clanking noise and high-pitched squeal. A tiny brown creature ran towards the coaches with a collection of pots, pans and bags slung around its shoulders – so many of them it was hard to see the face of the creature beneath them.
‘It’s the grogoch!’ shouted Grady. ‘What’s he doing?’
The creature ran along the coaches, jumping up to look in the windows. His eyes lit up at one particular carriage. Niamh saw the window open and Grace’s head leaned out.
‘He wants to come with us, Mum!’ shouted Niamh through cupped hands.
‘Oh no. No!’ said Grace plaintively. ‘I’m not having him cluttering up the carriage.’
The grogoch looked crestfallen. His shoulders slumped and a sad little wail came from his thin lips.
‘Don’t try that with me!’ said Grace. ‘It doesn’t work for my children and it won’t work for you.’
The cry from the creature increased in volume and tears started to fall from beneath his droopy eyelashes.
‘And don’t try tears either,’ said Merritt from inside the coach.
‘Dad!’ yelled Grady. ‘Let him come. He’ll cry the whole time we’re away if we don’t take him. He can ride on top of our carriage.’
The grogoch heard this and immediately brightened up. He gathered his pots and pans and other paraphernalia together and scuttled over the ground towards the children’s coach. He stopped at their window to flash them a grin from his woody teeth, and nimbly clambered on top of the coach. He settled into a gap between two large trunks and in seconds was buried under his kitchenware collection, happily cooing to himself.
‘I can’t believe you did that!’ yelled Grace. ‘He’s your responsibility now!’
‘No problem, Mum,’ said Niamh, waving. ‘See you later!’ Niamh wound the window back up and flomped down into her seat.
‘You know you really shouldn’t have done that, Niamh,’ said Quinn, smiling. ‘That little creature is going to get in everyone’s way down at the lake.’
‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’ said Grady. ‘We barely see him at home. And he’s great at clearing up our dishes so we don’t have to – Mum’s given up trying to get me and Niamh to take our dishes to the sink now that he’s with us.’
‘Never thought of it like that,’ said Hugh. ‘Reckon I could get one at home too? Does it do washing and put clothes away as well?’
‘Nah. It’s just dishes,’ said Grady. ‘Better than nothing though!’
The cabin gave a lurch as they started to move.
‘Hold up, ye gurriers!’ said a booming voice. The bulky frame of McHavering ran past the window and jumped, with surprising nimbleness, onto the running board and up into his seat. ‘Ready the noo,’ he said to the black-clad driver who returned McHavering’s broad grin with a blank stare. ‘Ye dinnae need to look so happy,’ he said, pulling his jacket
tighter around him. ‘This will be a fun trip,’ he muttered under his breath as the driver cracked the reins and the dragons began their lumbering acceleration down the runway.
Inside the coach the children sat back with wands ready to start a round of Wizcraft. Niamh touched Grady lightly on the forearm. ‘Is it safe?’ she thought – the words turning up clearly in Grady’s head.
‘Yes,’ replied Grady. ‘It’s buried in the bottom of my trunk. We need to make sure we empty that trunk ourselves. We need some time to study it.’
‘We’ll have plenty of time at the lake. Just make sure you get to the trunk before anyone else. Make sure you do. That book is for us and for us alone.’ Niamh let her arm drop and focused her attention on the game.
Chapter 5
A Glory of Dragons
Hugh flicked his wand idly back and forth as small dragons whizzed around his head. ‘God, I’m bored,’ he moaned to no one in particular. ‘Even Dragon Hunt is boring,’ he said as he sliced a bright green dragon in two with a well-aimed flick. The dragon spun in mid-air, fell into two gory parts, and theatrically expired.
‘If you’re bored now you’re going to have a really long trip,’ said Niamh absently. She was still buried in her Wizcraft game along with Bree, Tulliah and Grady. Quinn had long since given up on the WAPP and had curled up with a copy of The Mages of Mitchelham Manor.
‘I know,’ said Hugh, slumping further down in his chair. ‘But I am bored. Really bored. More bored than any wizard has ever been before.’
‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ said Grady, flicking a fuzz jinx at Hugh. It clipped Hugh’s head making every hair stand on end. Hugh growled at Grady, waved his wand, and the frizzy style vanished.
Beneath the children, the brown fields of the plains rolled on. They were long past the rivers that bordered the city and were closing on the mountains that formed the spine of Avalon. The monotonous and regular thumping of the dragons’ wings had faded into background noise shortly after they had left the Dragon’s Lair. But now there was a change in the tempo, making Niamh look up from her game.
Azrael's Twins and the Circle of Stone: Book Two of the Nearworld Tales Page 5