Flynn checked for a pulse on the centaur. It was there, strong and regular, but the king of the forest was clearly unconscious. Flynn bit his lip and went with the only idea that occurred, which was to enter himself fully into the Silvering, which made him blind and deaf to the outside world, as Davren had warned, and see if he could reach Davren via their magical link.
And as he entered the Silvering, he couldn’t know that Davren had just begun to stir awake.
Lex had called off the children once he heard the riders. The ghost-children had done their job well, disrupting and distracting Grevilya. The grimoire sat forlornly in the grass, trying to sing to itself but sounding deeply unsure.
‘Your father is upon us,’ Lex said to Ellin. Even though she couldn’t move, she heard the thunderous approach of horses. Her hopes leapt, despite knowing he was riding into danger.
‘I can move a little more with each passing moment,’ she whispered.
‘It’s because she’s letting her magic drift. And I suspect your wild magic is getting on top of it.’
‘I want to be rid of it.’
‘Be patient, Your Highness. Don’t let her know that you are becoming free.’
It was good advice, Ellin decided, and then from the corner of her eye she spotted the riders galloping towards them.
‘Well, well,’ Grevilya said. ‘He’s even riding a white horse. How thoroughly dashing. The King and his stallion will make a fine statue indeed,’ she crowed.
Ellin still felt helpless.
‘Look at him, so puffed up with his own importance,’ Grevilya said. ‘He’s a royal fool like his father before him.’
‘Witch Grevilya!’ King Lute called, his voice stern and powerful, as he brought his horse to a halt in a plume of dust. The column of soldiers followed close behind. A green glow flittered away and Ellin wondered if Grevilya had registered the second sprite that was joining Starling.
‘King Lute. So nice of you to join me and your daughter,’ Grevilya drawled. ‘We’ve been expecting you.’
‘Ellin?’
‘I’m here, Father.’ She heard a woman whimper somewhere. Was it her mother? ‘I’m unharmed. Don’t do what she wants! She’s going to turn you into statues.’
‘Oh dear,’ Grevilya said, as if bored. ‘Now you’ve ruined my fun, Princess.’
‘General Griff?’ Lute called out confidently, preparing to give an order to his brother. He either hadn’t understood or heard Ellin’s warning.
But Ellin heard Grevilya begin the familiar words and knew it was already too late for her uncle’s loyal soldiers. They would be statues in moments. Ellin screamed out over the words of magic being chanted by the witch. ‘Lex! If you can hear me, come to me,’ Ellin shouted, her voice hoarse.
Lex arrived and she heard his voice at her ear.
‘Highness, all is lost, I fear,’ Lex said.
Ellin watched with anguish as her father, who had walked his fine destrier forward in a gesture to prove to Grevilya that he was not threatened by her, felt the first touch of the witch’s magic, it seemed. Ellin watched him struggle to swallow. She saw his hand move to his throat. Her mother’s stricken face began to show the same strains, as did Uncle Griff’s – and darling Pilo, who she suddenly saw was sitting alongside her mother, was no doubt suffering the brunt of Tria’s despair. Soon enough all the soldiers were coughing and looking frightened. She looked away, could not bear it, especially as Grevilya had finished her spellmaking and was now laughing as she enjoyed the spectacle of its effect.
‘What about Flynn and Davren?’ Ellin said to Lex, not bothering to whisper this time. Grevilya was paying her no further heed anyway. ‘Do they have a plan?’
‘They’re still hoping to steal the grimoire so we can reverse all of Grevilya’s spells,’ Lex said. ‘But Your Highness, I have the suspicion that Grevilya’s spellmaking just now was universal. She has likely frozen everyone and every living creature for miles around into this statue-state … other than us ghosts.’
‘You’re right,’ Ellin said her voice hollow with despair. She’d felt the numbness trying to work again but her magic had learned, had resisted.
‘I would try to get the book myself, but I won’t be able to pick it up from the ground while I’m in this insubstantial form. But if someone can place it in my hands …’ he trailed off.
‘Then it’s up to me,’ Ellin said. ‘I believe I can move my legs. I simply have to seize the moment and I will make it and free us, or I will fail and we will all suffer her pleasure.’
‘Then wait a few more moments, Your Highness. Be sure.’
They watched Grevilya walk around King Lute’s frozen form, admiring her handiwork and boasting about how she could immobilise the whole realm if she wished.
‘Lex,’ said Ellin, ‘even if you can’t carry the book, maybe you can just rip out the pages. Do you think you and the children might be able to manage that?’
‘Yes, we can try,’ Lex promised.
He had tried several times to find Davren in the Silvering but he felt horribly alone in the magical domain. He waited, hoping against hope, worried that Davren would die from Simeon’s vicious blow.
Flynn, said a tentative voice and he searched blindly for the spot from where the sound emanated and on the rim of his mind he saw a bright yellow glow.
Yes? he answered hopefully. Are you one of Dav’s friends?
I am Elph, the sagar.
Forgive me, Elph, I do not know what that is, Flynn admitted.
In the Silvering it doesn’t matter. Flynn, we know you are a friend to Davren too. He is in danger. We can feel it across the domain.
He is unconscious. Injured by the basilisk.
No, it is not an injury I speak of but a mighty magic that has dulled his presence. Surely you can feel it? Or maybe you are too inexperienced in the Silvering, but Davren is usually among us as the brightest, strongest of all presences. He is the king. There is a special aura about him but that has disappeared. Something has happened. We know he’s there, we sense he’s alive, but it is as though he’s dead to us.
It’s her magic, Flynn said. She as good as paralysed him. I thought I might reach him here.
It’s just that …
What?
We can feel it through you in the Silvering. All the creatures of the forest, even the mortals we sense – dozens of them – are inert.
Flynn felt ill. He slipped out of the Silvering domain and touched the centaur’s arm.
To his relief, Davren blinked and gave a sad smile. ‘She must have cast it out like a blanket. It’s so powerful. Everything that moves in the forest must be struck still. And I was just regaining my wits from Simeon’s blow. Where is he, by the way?’
‘Gone. I’ll explain later. Thank Lo’s blessings you’re alive. But Simeon’s left Grevilya to fight on alone. Why haven’t I been affected by the inertia spell?’ Flynn said, waving his arms around, moving, as if to check that he really had escaped the spell.
‘Were you in the Silvering just now?’ Davren asked.
Flynn nodded. ‘Your friends are worried for you.’
‘Then the Silvering acted as a shield from her magic. You may be our last hope now, Flynn.’
Flynn tiptoed to hide behind a tree that stood on the very edge of the copse and could see the King’s small army of riders, frozen in place. As was Bitter Olof, he presumed, Calico Grace, Little Thom, Ellin, Wren, Starling, the King, Pilo, Duke Griff and Queen Tria. All of them trapped and at the mercy of Grevilya.
Only Lex and the ghost-children remained untouched as he did. Flynn saw the children huddled around Lex as he talked to them and pointed at Grevilya’s grimoire, which now lay abandoned on the grass beside her. Having done away with anyone who might possibly steal it, she obviously no longer felt the need to guard it so carefully and as she couldn’t see Lex, she couldn’t see them either. Besides, she was too busy taunting the King.
But Flynn could already guess the next move of the Rumpel
geist and his young brood. He began to run as he had never run before.
35
‘Go!’ Ellin called to the ghost-children.
The horde of ghostly creatures swooped on the grimoire, which woke up screaming hysterically. The children began to rip and tear at its pages. It screamed like it had never screamed before, this time in horror.
‘It’s working,’ Ellin cried, watching as pages flapped and bits of spells got mixed up with others. The children were in a frenzy and Grevilya, finally turning at the noise, understood what was happening, even though she couldn’t see them. She tried to reach for her grimoire but Ellin was overjoyed to see that Flynn had miraculously escaped the inertia spell and was joining in. He’d obviously run so hard from the copse that she’d not seen him, and without so much as breaking stride he had ripped off the kerchief around his neck, balled it into his fist and leapt.
In a swift motion he brought Grevilya to ground and jammed the kerchief into her open, screaming mouth.
She was so shocked her eyes widened until they looked ready to pop beneath the moonlight.
‘Now try saying your spell, witch,’ he growled at her. Then he looked at his ally. ‘Go, Lex, go. Take the pages. Here,’ he yelled, reaching with one hand for the grimoire that was now babbling frantic nonsense, while his other hand strongly held down Grevilya. He ripped and tore at the pages, scattering them. ‘Into the sea. Drown them. Destroy them!’
Noooooo! he could hear Grevilya trying to say behind the gag in her mouth.
The children ran, moving like the wind, dragging the feathery light, tissuey pages with them towards the bay. The grimoire was in tatters, weeping now.
‘Flynn,’ Ellin cried from where she was trapped. ‘You’ve got to get rid of the whole book. Throw it! As hard as you can out to sea.’
He nodded. He gave Grevilya one last look. ‘Let’s see how fast you are, witch.’ Flynn grabbed the book’s velvet cover and with the remains of the grimoire sobbing in his arms he ran into the deepening darkness towards the cliff’s edge. He knew Grevilya might have gained her feet by now and pulled the gag from her mouth. She would already be summoning her strength and any moment she would begin to incant the sinister words of magic that would freeze him to the spot.
He had to win. He felt the weight of the kingdom’s needs on his shoulders and most of all the desire to rescue his princess. Heedless of his safety, prepared to run straight over the precipice if necessary and drop to the water – perhaps to his death – so long as he took the book with him and released the royals and their people – especially the children – from Grevilya’s spells. It was up to the Rumpelgeist and himself to make this right.
Flynn could hear the crash of the sea against the cliffs, could feel a spray of its waves on the wind, could taste its salt on his lips. He knew now that he was just yards from the cliff’s edge, and without pausing to consider the repercussions he hurled the tattered remains of the grimoire and its plaintive screeches as hard as he could out to sea. And as he let it go he teetered on the edge of the cliff-face, feeling a numbness begin in his throat and rapidly spread to the rest of his body, and was unable to move from the spot.
Grevilya drew up alongside him, her lips drawn back in a vicious snarl.
‘Stupid boy,’ was all she said. And then without saying another word she looked down. In the moonlight, dissolving into the foamy waters below were the pages of her spells; her life’s work. She should have been distraught, but when she turned to face him, while she looked angry and dishevelled, her smirk was intact. He couldn’t believe it.
Lex stood helplessly by, a look of befuddlement on his ghostly face, while the children floated around him, keeping their silence. He lifted his shoulders theatrically at Flynn. Clearly the Rumpelgeist had no idea why she still looked so confident. She had no idea the ghosts were crowding around.
‘You fool, whoever you are! Did you really think you could best me?’ She laughed. ‘It’s not the pages that are important. It’s the grimoire itself. The book is all that matters. It’s her memory, her knowledge of my spells that will live on. The pages are irrelevant – they’re for my benefit alone, boy, not hers. She has the memory, you poor deluded youth. Together she and I can rewrite the spells and add a whole raft of new ones.’
Flynn blinked, trapped in the prison of Grevilya’s inertia.
Lex sat with his head in his hands at the cliff edge with the other ghost-children. They had come so close.
‘Have you seen Simeon?’ Grevilya asked Flynn, assuming he would know to whom she referred.
‘Slithered away like the cowardly serpent he is,’ he said, trying to unnerve her.
If she was devastated by the news, it didn’t show. ‘Bah! I don’t need him; all I need is my grimoire.’
‘Well, that nasty piece of magic has gone too,’ he snapped.
‘I know you think you threw it into the sea, boy,’ Grevilya said. ‘But it won’t do any of you any good. The grimoire has a mind of her own and she will have helped herself. I’m going to rescue her, before my inertia spell dissolves in the water and releases you all.’
Flynn’s spirits lifted. ‘If we are released, you will be the one who is trapped, Grevilya.’
‘Really? Did Lex just assure you of that? Where is he anyway? Cowering somewhere, probably. Well, if you’re listening, Lex, you’re never going to be an apothecarist and your friends are never going to be reunited with their parents. And you, boy,’ she said, pointing a slender finger at Flynn, ‘look again. What do you see out there?’
Flynn switched his gaze to the sea and there, impossibly, was a beautiful, sleek silver ship glinting like a fabulous jewel in the moonlit bay. ‘Where did that come from?’ he asked.
‘That’s Silver Wind, boy. I knew she’d be here. Gracie and Olof stole her from me, but she shall be mine again. Let the King know I’m not finished with him. He may be lucky enough to be released this time if I don’t get to my grimoire in time, but he should always fear my return. He won’t know when I’ll re-enter his life but I will and I promise him he won’t see it coming. Oh, and pass on my thanks to Gracie and Olof for the return of my ship.’
She gave a loud chortle and disappeared down the steps leading to the sea.
Meanwhile, in the foamy waters below, the tissue pages from her grimoire slowly dissolved, leaking their ink and releasing all those who were trapped by the spells inscribed there.
Silver Wind felt the pull of Grevilya’s magic and she responded, pushing out her rowboat to greet the witch.
At the top of the cliff, Flynn felt the numbness leave him. The reversion happened slowly at first, with his feet tingling. And then, rapidly, movement was possible, as all the stiffness of the inertia dissipated. He stepped back from the edge but peered down at the sea thrashing against the rocks below.
The grimoire that had been floating on the water was gone. He looked out and saw Grevilya – her shape had changed, hunched in the small rowboat, hugging what he presumed was the remains of the velvet-covered book to her chest. He presumed her powerful spell had been thwarted and her former beautiful looks had been returned to their rightful owner. She wasn’t rowing; the boat was moving itself back towards the graceful silver ship that had appeared out of nowhere.
The garden behind Flynn was suddenly filled with noise and movement as the inertia spell wore off its victims. Davren joined Flynn at the cliff edge, putting an arm around the boy’s shoulders. ‘You did your very best,’ he said.
Soon Ellin was by Flynn’s side, too. She took his hand and squeezed it. He turned to look at her with an apology on his lips.
‘Don’t say sorry,’ she warned. ‘I’ve never seen anyone do anything more brave than you did tonight. You could have died.’
Lex and his motley gang of companions arrived. They were no longer ghosts, but flesh-and-blood children. Flynn wanted to smile at Lex, wanted to tell him and the children that they had been heroic. He did neither, looking back to the sea dejected as Grevilya moved
closer to sanctuary on board the Silver Wind.
Wren and Starling arrived in a flurry of whirring wings. Behind them was a giant man and Calico Grace, restored to her former and rightful beauty. A darkly handsome fellow stood by her side. He was taller than Grace, with a broad smile and twinkling eyes. His inkings were intact though. This was the real Olof, and he clapped his thick, strong arm against the back of the giant.
‘This is Little Thom, everyone,’ said Bitter Olof. ‘I’m pleased to say Grendel’s spell has finally worn off and we’ve seen the end of Miss Greenleaf.’
The group nodded at Thom, murmured congratulations but all helplessly set their gazes back to where the witch Grevilya was clambering aboard the Silver Wind.
‘Well, Olof, I am honoured to meet you and Grace all over again, although I fear I don’t recognise you,’ Davren said, his voice full of admiration for the handsome pair.
‘She’s stealing my ship,’ Grace said, her voice trembling slightly.
‘No, Gracie,’ Olof replied, hugging her close. ‘Silver Wind has invited her on board. She wants Grevilya with her or she would never have shown herself.’
Everyone bowed as Lute finally drew level with Pilo alongside – even little Beng performed a curious version of a bow, under Dilly’s tutelage.
‘King Lute?’ Flynn said. ‘Grevilya asked me to tell you that she has not finished with the Crown of Drestonia. I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I failed.’
‘Did she, indeed?’ the King replied. ‘Well, the witch is the one on the run, not I. And I will devote my efforts to hunting her down now.’
Ellin squeezed Flynn’s hand harder. ‘You did everything you could,’ she said, looking at him with admiration.
‘Brave to the last, Duke Jolien,’ Pilo reassured the boy.
‘Thanks should go to Lex, who tried harder than any of us to destroy the grimoire,’ Flynn said, trying to deflect attention from himself.
The Rumpelgeist Page 25