Jack Shian and the Destiny Stone

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Jack Shian and the Destiny Stone Page 20

by Andrew Symon


  “That’s right,” said Lizzie. “The low road’s open today – why haven’t they come?”

  “Back on Ilanbeg, Marco talked of the time being right,” said Jack. “I guess they’ll join us in Edinburgh.”

  Jack thought back to Ilanbeg: what had Marco and Luka taught him? They would defeat the Kildashie with the right force, and at the right time. But how were they to know?

  “Silver shilling for your thoughts,” said Rana mischievously.

  “I was just wondering how we can persuade Magnus. That other guy said the Norse would come if they thought one of their kind was in danger.”

  “Well, the Novehowe lot are Norse. And so was Trog,” stated Lizzie. “A lot of them mixed in with the local Shian, so you can’t always tell.”

  “What d’you think, Cleo?”

  “I should like to see Jeck’s flag. The Kildashie that came – they knew it was important. But I have not seen it working.”

  “It’s not like just lighting a candle,” said Jack impatiently. “It has to be right for it to work.”

  “Then maybe I can make it work.”

  Jack pulled Tamlina’s ring off, flicked the Mapa Mundi into a sphere, and handed it to Cleo. The two circles formed, and clearly visible in one was a Christmas tree.

  “That’s the High Street!” exclaimed Petros, looking over Jack’s shoulder.

  Jack didn’t need to be told. The huge Christmas tree outside St Giles’ Cathedral was up there for so long before Christmas that it was a familiar sight to Shian, even before they retreated inside for the ‘great winter shutdown’.

  Then the tree faded, and was replaced by the image of five lit candles: three purples, and one pink one forming a square; and a white one in the middle.

  “They’re all lit,” shouted Lizzie excitedly. “That means it’s Christmas Day!”

  Jack frowned. Is it telling us to go to Edinburgh on Christmas Day?

  A picture started to form in the other circle, and Jack gasped: a huge figure of a man … no, more than a man … a giant. Jack blinked, but there was no doubt about it. It was Caskill. And the charmstone was hanging loose in his chest.

  “Who is that, Jeck?”

  Jack’s head was whirling. Half of him didn’t want to believe what the other half was telling him. Then he made up his mind.

  “We’ve to go to Edinburgh at Christmas. And help Caskill.”

  “Caskill?!” exclaimed Petros. “He went off to Nanog; or somewhere. But west: he was going to set off for the west.”

  “Well, he’s going to be in Edinburgh on Christmas Day. And he needs our help.”

  “But we can’t go until everyone else is ready,” said Lizzie.

  “Magnus is taking ages to decide,” replied Jack. “He’s said he’ll ask the fjordsmen, but there’s no guarantee they’ll come.”

  “I would like to see a city at Christmas,” said Cleo. “It will be nice to see all the lights again.”

  “I wouldn’t mind going to Edinburgh,” said Petros. “To the human spaces, I mean. The parties will be cool.”

  You’ve changed your tune, thought Jack, as he flicked the Mapa back to a flag. You used to go on about the ‘Dameves’.

  “I can take you to human places,” added Cleo. “I know how to be part of a human crowd.”

  “So do I,” said Petros. “I’m a quarter human, remember.”

  “It’s too dangerous to go to Edinburgh,” snapped Lizzie. “Besides, we’d never get away.”

  “There’s people coming and going all the time,” Jack pointed out. “We could easily slip out if the low road entrance is open. And be back before anyone notices.”

  “Edinburgh is dangerous,” said Ossian. “You’ve just been tellin’ everyone how bad the Kildashie are, and you know what the Thanatos did to Ploutter. Kedge won’t go back. What makes you think you’d get away again?”

  “Without Caskill we’d never have got this far. And if his charmstone’s almost out, he needs our help.”

  “What are you youngsters up to?” enquired Phineas as he approached. He held a goblet, and his face was ruddy.

  “Nothing,” said Jack. “We were just wondering when Magnus was going to ask the fjordsmen to come.”

  “Not much joy there, I’m afraid. I’m sure we can persuade a few of the people here to join us, but it’s not the army we need.”

  “What should we do, then? We can’t sit here and do nothing.” Jack’s voice rose.

  “Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something. But a word of advice: don’t even think about travelling without the rest of us. We haven’t come this far for you to risk it all on a whim.” Phineas went off to join Armina and Daid by the fire.

  “He must’ve heard you,” hissed Petros. “We’ll never get away if he’s watching us.”

  “Uncle Phineas is right,” stated Lizzie. “You can’t go off into Kildashie territory without protection.”

  Oh, I’ll take protection, don’t you worry, thought Jack.

  He was startled a moment later when Grey Wolf tugged his arm.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  29

  Mustang Flight

  Jack turned round in astonishment.

  “You knew what I was thinking?”

  “It is written on your face; and I heard you say ‘Caskill’. But I see you have doubts.”

  “The Kildashie and the Thanatos are deadly; and I hate the cold. If the Kildashie have made Edinburgh as cold as we think …”

  “They are breaking the circle: stopping the season-wheels turning is macava; you call this infama. We know it too: years ago men came and destroyed our homelands.”

  “Where have you come from?”

  “Over the sea. But one of my ancestors came from these islands. From time to time some of us return to his birthplace.”

  “And you know Caskill?”

  “We know of him. He bears a charmstone, I think: like this.” Grey Wolf pulled out a quartz piece held on a string around his neck.

  “It’s the same as the one we got for Caskill! The one that stops him sleeping!”

  “We heard that you had rescued that; that’s one of the reasons we came here. If Caskill is in the big city, then he will be in trouble. I will help you find him.”

  Jack steered Grey Wolf further away from the others and whispered, “I was going to take Rana and Lizzie’s invisibility bonnets. I’m sure I can get to Edinburgh and back without being seen.”

  “I do not know this city, so I will need your help to keep safe there. But I have things that will help too. Let me tell He Who Waits.”

  “Cleo wants to come,” butted in Petros as Grey Wolf left.

  Jack was irritated that Petros had sneaked up on them.

  “No way. I’m not taking her. This is about helping Caskill. She doesn’t know anything about Edinburgh.”

  “But she knows about human spaces. If the Shian areas are dangerous, that could help.”

  Jack considered this for a moment.

  “I still don’t like it. It’s going to be hard enough me slipping away. If she comes too, Dad’s bound to notice.”

  “And me,” said Petros. “I’m not missing out if there are some human parties.”

  “This isn’t a family holiday!” snapped Jack. “I’ve got to get there and back quickly, and without Dad or the others noticing.”

  “Well, if your dad asks me, I might have to tell him where you’ve gone.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Not up to me to lie for you,” said Petros simply.

  Jack ground his teeth. He felt like thumping Petros, but then he turned round and saw his father watching. He turned back.

  “Well, how are we all going to get away without Dad and Grandpa knowing?”

  “We could say you’ve gone to look at the human spaces here; he’ll buy that. Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.”

  Over the next couple of days the Novehowe solstice celebrations seemed to have a mellowing effect on everyone. Desp
ite Jack’s concerns, and the continuing non-appearance of any support from the fjordsmen, the atmosphere was infectious enough for Jack to join in the parties. And the Novehowe lot did know how to party, Jack had to give them that. Like the McCools, most of them seemed to survive with just brief naps, returning to the festivities bleary-eyed but ready for more.

  Phineas and Grandpa – in fact, all of those who had left Ilanbeg – had settled down into ‘the Novehowe way’, joining in the parties, the short walks outside, the music sessions. Where they betrayed their ‘non-Novehowe-ness’ was in the sleeping. The Nebula crew, more accustomed to island life, and thriving on the abundant food, had adapted well, and were in the full throes of the celebrations.

  All kinds of Shian were making an appearance too. Not since the Hidden Commonwealth had been summoned at Dunvik had Jack seen such an array of creatures, not even on Ilanbeg: Darrigs, Elle-folk, Pisgies, even Phooka. Enda and the other McCools had quickly found the Phooka, and one corner of the great chamber became a little Irish enclave.

  However it was the growth in the Cree numbers which most fascinated Jack. He Who Waits and Grey Wolf had been quietly joined by several dozen friends. They had arrived unobtrusively, and made little obvious impact on the celebrations. But they were definitely there. Jack realised with a growing sense of optimism that this might make it a lot easier for Grey Wolf to disappear for a while without being noticed.

  While this might get the Cree man away, Jack couldn’t see how he and Cleo and Petros could escape without Phineas and Grandpa finding out. The answer came on Christmas Eve, when Enda pulled Jack away from the group of youngsters as they sat next to the fireplace.

  “Jack, d’you fancy a jaunt out into the humans’ world tomorrow? Ye’ll niver believe this, but we’ve found an Irishwoman here, and she’s said we can visit her home. We wouldn’t touch the food – ’twould be disgustin’, sure we know that. But have ye iver seen a human Christmas?”

  Jack shook his head.

  “Well, Connemara Mary will take us out after breakfast. Will ye come?”

  Jack’s smile was his reply.

  Brilliant: a perfect excuse!

  So it was that as Christmas Day dawned, Jack stashed the Mapa Mundi and Tamlina’s ring in a kitchen cupboard, and then slipped unobtrusively into the girls’ room.

  Fast asleep! Good!

  Relieving Rana and Lizzie’s satchels of their green bonnets, he found Grey Wolf and handed one over. When Enda announced after breakfast that a crowd were leaving to go and celebrate the day with Connemara Mary, Jack, Petros, Cleo and Grey Wolf tagged along.

  “Have a good time!” shouted Grandpa Sandy as they made for the tumulus entrance.

  Once outside, however, they dropped to the back of the north-bound crowd, and as the advance group got further ahead Jack and the others turned round.

  “It’s freezing!” said Petros, as he shivered in his coat. “Should we go back and get some warmer clothes? Gilmore’s got loads.”

  “We haven’t time,” said Jack, as he set off down the road. He was shivering too, but he resolved not to show this to Petros or Cleo. Grey Wolf, wrapped in a thin blanket, seemed unmoved by the bitter weather. He allowed Jack to lead, but kept a watchful eye on Cleo as she struggled in the strong wind.

  They reached the three standing stones just as the rain started.

  “Quick! Let’s get away before we get soaked,” pleaded Petros.

  “The low road’ll dry us anyway,” said Jack impatiently, as he made for the dolmen in the centre. “Come on!”

  He got the four standing in a circle, arms linked.

  “We’ll use the bonnets in turn to get out of the square. All right?”

  The others nodded.

  “Wind flock castle!”

  A gust of icy rain swept over them.

  “Wind flock castle!” shouted Jack.

  No movement; nothing.

  “Maybe the low road does not work today?” said Cleo.

  “But Magnus said it would be open,” protested Jack.

  “Well, it’s not open now,” grumbled Petros. “And I’m getting wet.”

  “We’re all wet!” shouted Jack.

  “If the low road will not work, we must go another way. Come!” Grey Wolf set off at a jog back along the loch-side.

  “Where are we going?” demanded Petros.

  Grey Wolf indicated the large circle of standing stones ahead.

  “It’s the place for flying here, and leaving.”

  Jack turned to Petros as they jogged along, but Petros just shrugged.

  “We have a saying where I come from,” laughed Grey Wolf. “‘You will run with horses’.”

  Reaching the first stone, he stopped and watched the others arriving out of breath.

  “I think so many days of relaxation are not good for your health!” he laughed. “But these horses will take us where we need to go. What is the name of the place in the city for horses?”

  “It’s below Arthur’s Seat,” said Jack. “We used horses from there to get to France.”

  “Horses?” asked Cleo timidly.

  “Haven’t you ridden before?” A look of concern passed over Jack’s face.

  Cleo shook her head.

  “Then you shall ride with me,” said Grey Wolf.

  He gave a low whistle, and two ghost-grey horses appeared.

  “We ride without saddles.”

  “We’re used to that,” said Jack.

  The four were quickly mounted. Cleo, sitting in front of Grey Wolf, covered by his blanket, hung on tightly to the horse’s mane. Jack sat behind Petros, and gripped his waist.

  The horses began to canter along the flat ground beside the loch, quickly getting up to a gallop. Jack waited for Grey Wolf to shout, “Horse and hattock!”

  “Mistatim!”

  The rise into the air was much more sudden than Jack had anticipated. The two horses sped upwards at terrific speed, and only the passing of the icy cold air kept Jack’s grip on his cousin’s waist firm.

  “It’s f … f … freezing!” he chattered.

  Petros was concentrating on keeping a hold of the mane, and didn’t turn round.

  The air was so cold that Jack’s eyes dried as soon as he opened them. He could feel ice starting to form on his nose, but didn’t dare release his grip to wipe his face.

  “How d’we know where we’re going?” he eventually shouted at Grey Wolf.

  “The horses know it’s south; but you’ll have to let me know when we get there.”

  But I’ve never flown to Edinburgh from the north before!

  Jack’s panic slowly settled, and he began to calculate.

  Edinburgh to Claville last year took us about thirty minutes (and I thought that was cold!) … This is maybe a third of the distance … faster horses, but they don’t know where they’re going …

  “It’ll take ten minutes!” he shouted back. “We must keep the coast beneath us.”

  Jack forced himself to keep his eyes open, but he had to blink every second or two to stop his eyes drying out.

  After seven or eight minutes Jack saw the firth.

  “I recognise those bridges! We’re nearly there! That’s Arthur’s Seat ahead.”

  Grey Wolf steered the horses towards the great volcanic outcrop overlooking Edinburgh, and brought the horses down to the field beneath it. They seemed none the worse for their flight.

  Jack had expected the ground temperature to be warmer than the icy air above; but with a sinking feeling he realised: This is what Kildashie cold is!

  It took Jack several moments before he could prise his frozen fingers from Petros’ belt.

  “That was fun!” exclaimed Cleo. She had emerged from the protection of Grey Wolf’s blanket looking a lot warmer than Jack felt.

  “Look, Jack,” said Petros, as he rubbed his hands together, “me and Cleo will have a look around the human spaces. I promise we’ll be OK. We’ll meet you by the statue opposite St Giles’ at eleven, yeah?�


  With a sense of misgiving, Jack watched as Petros and Cleo set off towards the city centre.

  They’d better not get found out …

  “So,” said Grey Wolf, “where do we find Caskill?”

  A screech came from high above them.

  “What in Tua’s name is that?” screamed Jack as a great winged beast swooped down towards Arthur’s Seat.

  “It’s a skoffin,” replied Grey Wolf; “a dragon from the ice lands.”

  “What’s it got in its claws?”

  Whatever it was, it was soon plummeting to earth as the skoffin released its grip. There was a thud as a body fell onto an overhanging rock shelf near the summit of Arthur’s Seat. The skoffin screeched, and soared away.

  The body stirred, then sat up; but there were a dozen smaller creatures running towards it. The nearest one threw its cap at the body, and there was a roar of pain as the gory missile hit home.

  I know that sound.

  “It’s Caskill!”

  30

  Temptation

  “Those others are not there to greet him,” said Grey Wolf. “What are they?”

  “Dunters,” replied Jack, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Red Caps. They’re vile.”

  “There’s no time to get the horses. Climb on my back.”

  Jack did as he was told, and was amazed at how quickly and smoothly Grey Wolf bounded along. It took only a few minutes to clamber up the slope, covered in ice as it was …

  We’ve got to get to Caskill before they kill him!

  … but even as they neared the top the situation looked hopeless. Caskill, covered in gore, had managed to force the Dunters back from the edge, and was scrambling for the frost-covered summit to give himself the advantage of height. But the Dunters’ aim with their blood-soaked caps was too much for him, and he swung wearily at the small creatures which now pursued him up the hill. Several dead or stunned Dunters lay sprawled on the ground, but there were just too many of them. One leapt at Caskill, and began to claw at the charmstone in his chest.

  Jack leapt from Grey Wolf’s back, thrust out his right wrist and took aim.

  “Absango!”

  A bolt hit the Dunter square in the back. It disappeared without a sound.

 

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