Was that supposed to happen?
A grumble of disappointment ran around the classroom.
‘Boring,’ Professor Utterby announced. ‘Sea and flame are not natural friends. They’re not exactly enemies, but they prefer to ignore each other if they can get away with it. Put them together and they’ll nod to each other as they pass, but that’s all the reaction you’ll see.’ He opened a second packet. ‘Now, this is also common salt, but this time it is mountain salt, not sea salt. Water is weak, always sloshing about in tides and using up its energy, but mountains have stood since this country first took shape. Soaking up the energy of the earth – the changing seasons, the passing storms. And, as everyone knows, mountains love fire. Their shape, leaping into the sky, mimics the leap of flame. And have you noticed how lightning always aims for high places? Lightning is fire contained, and fire always seeks out the places of power.’
Prisha raised her hand. ‘Sir, are you sure this is on the chemistry syllabus?’
Professor Utterby paused, eyebrows in mid-raise. ‘As William Shakespeare said, there are more things in heaven and earth than you can dream about. You’d do well to remember that and maintain an open mind. Open minds let the most information in.’
He poured a few crystals of mountain salt into his palm and tilted his hand for the class to see. The grains looked exactly the same as the sea salt.
‘Observe,’ Professor Utterby said. He adjusted the burner and cast the salt into the flame.
Bang!
The explosion shot flame up to the ceiling. All the windows rattled. Jessie ducked and several people shouted in alarm.
‘That is the power of the mountains,’ Professor Utterby said with a satisfied smile.
Jessie rubbed her eyes, blinking away purple after-images of the burner.
Professor Utterby picked up a jar that appeared to be empty. ‘Now let us see what happens when we mix fire with invisible nitrate.’
This was definitely not on any chemistry syllabus.
The class piled out of the lab to break, chattering noisily.
‘Did you see when he put potassium into water?’ Prisha said.
Jessie paused. ‘He didn’t use potassium. Or water. He threw salt into a flame and it nearly set fire to the classroom.’
Prisha blinked at her. ‘It was potassium. I wrote it down.’ She flicked through her exercise book, frowning at the blank pages. ‘I must have forgotten. Never mind.’
She wandered on.
Jessie turned to see David staring at her. ‘What?’ she asked.
‘Nothing.’ But he kept staring at her. ‘You remember what happened in class, don’t you?’
‘Of course I remember,’ Jessie said. ‘We’ve only just come out.’
She knew what he meant, though. Everyone else seemed to think it was an ordinary chemistry lesson – she and David were the only ones to remember it properly.
‘How did Professor Utterby do that?’ she asked. She remembered the other day when he’d ordered her to go outside and she’d started to obey without thinking. ‘Is it hypnosis or something?’
‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,’ David said.
‘I might do. I believe lots of things.’
‘No you don’t. The bigger question is, why didn’t it work on you?’
‘Given that I don’t know what any of this is about, I have no idea. How about magic? The professors are evil magicians and your aunt is the magic police come to arrest them.’
David gave her an odd look. Jessie laughed. ‘Come on, tell me the truth. Are you being deliberately weird just to annoy me?’
‘I’m never deliberately weird – it just happens.’ He gave a half-smile, then pushed his hands in his pockets and frowned. ‘You said you wanted to help – did you mean it?’
Jessie returned his smile. ‘Yes, of course. What do you need?’
David pulled her further down the corridor, glancing about. ‘You were right, partly,’ he said quietly. ‘My aunt is investigating the professors. I can’t tell you why, but I need to get into their staffroom after school and look around. If you come with me, I think we might get away with it.’
Yes, because two people breaking in is far less noticeable than one. Dad would kill her if he found out. On the other hand, she had offered to help, and she had to admit this was more exciting than her school in London had ever been. She slung her bag firmly over her shoulder. After that non-chemistry class, she’d like to know what the professors’ room looked like.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘When do you want to do it?’
CHAPTER 17
‘Are you sure you saw the professors leave?’ Jessie whispered. Her palms felt clammy. Standing outside the professors’ staffroom after everyone else had gone home for the day, this was feeling more and more like a giant-sized mistake.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ David said. ‘Don’t worry. If anyone is there, we’ll say we have a question about class.’
She had lots of questions, Jessie thought, but she wasn’t sure it would be safe to ask them. She tried the door and found it locked.
‘Let me try,’ David said. He turned the handle, then bent to blow into the keyhole. A moment later, the door opened. ‘Must have been a bit stiff,’ he said, straightening up.
‘Yes,’ Jessie agreed, not quite believing him. If his aunt was an investigator, maybe he had special lock-picking skills or something. She stepped into the room, letting her breath out slowly when she saw it was empty. ‘What exactly are we looking for?’ she asked.
‘Anything that doesn’t belong in a staffroom.’
That wasn’t much help – nothing seemed to belong here. Jessie picked a crisp packet up off the floor and dropped it into the bin. Don’t drop litter was one of the first school rules. Mr Heron would have a fit if he saw the state of this room.
David started opening books, frowning as he flipped through the pages. Most of the titles were in foreign languages, but there was a book of Welsh legends, and another one on mythical creatures.
‘That’s not important,’ David said as Jessie reached for it. He put back the book he was reading and turned to the desk, poking open a box and jumping back as if the contents might be dangerous. Jessie looked, and saw marker pens and candles, and a set of jars full of coloured powders. More of Professor Utterby’s chemistry equipment, she guessed. She picked up two of the maps from the coffee table and laid them side by side. Her breath came too fast and the skin on her back itched every time she took her attention off the door. She pulled another map from under the pile and paused as she recognized the name ‘Mount Skirrid’. Someone had circled the central contour in red ink, and written a date: 7 September, 4 p.m.
David snatched the map away, making her jump. ‘Don’t touch those. You might leave fingerprints.’
‘Fingerprints? On paper?’
‘You never know.’ David stared at the map, frowning, and ran his finger over the red circle of ink that surrounded Mount Skirrid. He wasn’t that worried about fingerprints, then.
‘They’re going to do something, aren’t they?’ she asked. ‘And this is the place and the time. But what are they planning?’
‘I have no idea.’ David held up a hand as she opened her mouth to argue. ‘Really, I don’t. I need to tell my aunt about this. We should get out of here before someone sees us.’
They slipped back out and David shut the door. Jessie was trembling. She couldn’t believe they’d got away with it. She had to swallow a fit of giggles as they raced down the corridor to the main doors. Mr Heron came out of the school office.
‘The bell rang fifteen minutes ago,’ he said. ‘What are you still doing here?’
‘Sorry,’ Jessie gasped. ‘We got lost.’
They ran outside. Jessie paused by the gates, waiting for the stitch in her side to go away. ‘What do you want to do now? I’m taking Storm to obedience class later but you can come home with me for a bit if you like.’
David shook his head. ‘I’d
better go back and tell my aunt what I found. Then I might hang around town a bit, see if the professors do anything else. See you tomorrow? And please don’t say anything about this to anyone.’
‘Of course not,’ Jessie said.
She set off home, and she was halfway there when she suddenly stopped.
Home, she’d said. She called the house ‘home’, and it had slipped out so naturally she hadn’t even noticed. She ought to be happy, she supposed, but instead it felt like something cold had settled inside her. She already had a home, in London with Mum. She didn’t want another one.
CHAPTER 18
It was the evening of Wednesday – Woden’s Day – which felt like a good day to begin training the humans in obedience. Yet, so far, the obedience class had proved a sorry disappointment.
Six other dogs stood around the edges of a cold hall: a Great Dane as tall as a small pony, a yellow Labrador who smelled of wet pavements and four dogs of various mixed breeds, all smelling of the rain that still pattered against the windows. The hall smelled of even more dogs, their scents fading in and out of one another, some quite recent, others at least a week old.
The Great Dane trod on Storm’s paw. Watch it, little one.
Little one? Identify yourself, Storm snapped.
The Great Dane looked down at him, wagging his tail in puzzlement. I am Viking. This is my human, Henry.
Storm looked up at the skinny human who held the end of Viking’s leash. He was displaying a woeful lack of obedience, talking to the lady next to him and ignoring his canine master altogether.
Storm was surprised at the differences between humans. When you ran across the sky, there was very little time for looking down, and Storm had always assumed humans were more or less the same. He was finding out how wrong he’d been about that. There were tall humans and short ones, fat and thin. They all had different smells, which changed subtly, depending on the time of day. They all had names as well, and it appeared that the more important they were in the human world, the more names they had. Jessie’s father, for example, was called Dad and Mr Price and Stephen, depending on who was talking to him. Jessie was just Jessie, which seemed strange because she was the most important of all.
Storm turned back to Viking. What exactly do we do here?
The Great Dane shrugged, making dark ripples move down his coat. It’s our quiz night. The humans have crunchy treats and we have to work out how to get them. But the humans keep changing the rules to make it harder.
Wait a minute. Storm bristled. The humans set the rules?
You don’t have to follow them, one of the other dogs chimed in. It depends how much you like crunchy treats.
‘Come away, Viking,’ Henry muttered, tugging the dog away a few steps. Jessie picked Storm up and hugged him. He sniffed at her face. It was strange how he felt more puppyish when she was with him. The door opened and Storm stiffened in Jessie’s arms, then began to scrabble at her as the Fuzzy-Lady from the dog prison came in.
‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ she said. ‘The weather is awful today.’
You! Foul lady, you will not take me back to the place of comfortable confinement.
‘Sorry,’ Jessie said, putting Storm back on the floor. He wasn’t sure whether she was addressing him or foul Fuzzy-Lady. No matter. He’d wasted enough time here. Follow me, he commanded, tugging on the annoying leash Jessie had attached to his collar. Let us return to your dwelling.
Jessie tugged back. ‘Come here, Storm.’
You’re not very good at this obedience thing, are you?
Fuzzy-Lady smiled and reached out to take the end of the leash from Jessie. ‘Don’t worry. We all have to start at the beginning. How are you getting on together?’
We are getting on fine. Oh no, don’t you dare think you can start tugging me as well. Storm sat down.
Jessie crossed her arms and sighed, her cheeks turning red. Some of her lightning smell crept back, confused and frustrated. If only humans knew the language of the skies so he could talk to her, it would make things a lot easier. Storm resolved to speak with Odin about it when the Hunt returned.
The humans all shuffled closer into a circle, urging their dogs to follow. Some of them did, the Great Dane taking a few steps forward, then lying down again.
‘Storm, sit,’ Fuzzy-Lady said.
He was already sitting. What more did she want?
Nothing, apparently. The Fuzzy-Lady bent to scratch him behind his ears. ‘Good boy, Storm.’
Lady, you are insane. But what was the use in telling her that? She couldn’t understand a single word he was saying. But then she dug in her fuzzy pocket and offered him something crunchy. He’d thought the meaty chunks were delicious, but this tasted of a whole herd of cattle squashed down into one crispy morsel. Storm snapped it up. Maybe he wouldn’t smite her for her insolence just yet. She was human and stupid, after all. She didn’t know any better.
The dogs around him yapped, trying to get their own crunchy treats.
Wait your turn, Storm growled, his shadow growing for a moment. The Great Dane whined and shrank back.
Fuzzy-Lady handed Storm’s leash back to Jessie. ‘Well,’ she said with a nervous laugh, ‘let’s get started. Everyone, tell your dogs to sit.’
How was this supposed to teach the humans to obey?
Unless . . .
No, it was too horrible to contemplate.
Storm stood up in alarm.
‘Sit, Storm,’ Jessie said, bending and gently pushing him down.
Storm’s bottom sank to the floor. Along with the last shreds of his dignity.
I find if you ignore the humans for long enough they give you the treats anyway, a female terrier said, her tail wagging nervously.
Storm twisted his head, feeling the tug of the leash on his collar. Quiz night? he said.
The Great Dane avoided his gaze.
This was no game: humans actually believed they were in charge. The events of the past week suddenly made an awful kind of sense. Jessie’s father shutting him in the back room . . . Jessie scolding him for chasing next door’s cat . . .
How could this be? Jessie was only a child; she wasn’t even in charge of her own life. Storm had seen her leave the house resentfully to go to somewhere called ‘school’. Even her father, who was a grown man, couldn’t command the clouds, or even the smallest patch of earth beneath his feet.
It makes them feel better, the yellow Labrador said, noticing Storm’s confusion. The world is vast and they are little. It frightens them. Just do what the humans want and they’ll be happy and feed you. It’s how things work.
‘Sit, Buttercup,’ the Labrador’s human said. He sat back and looked up at his human servant adoringly, until the lady gave him a treat. His tail thumped.
This is slavery, Storm said. He still couldn’t believe the dogs would go along with this so easily. Didn’t they know they were descended from wolves? Where was their pride, their self-respect? Storm let out a whimper.
Oh, don’t be so dramatic, the Labrador said, standing up again. It’s an exchange. Follow a few simple instructions and the humans think you’re some kind of genius and feed you treats. You should try it.
‘Buttercup, sit,’ the Labrador’s human said.
The Labrador sat down. The human squealed. Two of the other humans applauded.
‘Well done,’ Fuzzy-Lady said, and Storm wasn’t sure whether she was talking to the Labrador or his human. They both seemed equally pleased.
Jessie shook Storm’s leash. ‘Storm, sit.’
Storm fixed her with a stare. You sit. I’m quite comfortable standing.
Jessie’s eyes became pleading. ‘Storm, please sit down.’
Her scent became anxious and she sounded like she was about to cry. Storm suddenly found that he didn’t want that.
He was a stormhound. Humans should obey him, not the other way round. On the other hand, she’d said ‘please’. Maybe it was all right to obey a request – especially when Jes
sie had tried so hard to please him.
Oh, all right, then. Storm sat down and wagged his tail.
The sudden change that came over Jessie’s face was worth thunder and lightning. The threat of tears vanished and she gave a big grin, her scent lighting up the hall. ‘Did you see that?’ she shouted.
The Labrador’s human laughed. ‘He was waiting for you to ask politely. Try it again.’
‘Storm,’ Jessie said, ‘please would you mind standing up?’
Storm waited a moment to build up suspense before he stood. I’m only doing this to make you look good in front of the other humans. I hope you appreciate it.
She did, he could tell. Her usually pale face flushed with pleasure.
‘You’ve got a knack for this,’ the Labrador’s lady said.
She’s got a knack for saying words?
‘Sit,’ Jessie said.
Storm wondered whether to do it this time.
‘Sit, please,’ Jessie said, her face full of admiration. He sat down.
‘Here,’ Fuzzy-Lady said, taking the leash back. ‘Let me try. Storm, please stand up.’
Storm looked at her and, very deliberately, he lay down.
Jessie laughed. ‘It’s like he did that on purpose.’
You bet I did.
And then the door opened, letting in a gust of rain and three men in overcoats.
CHAPTER 19
Storm flattened himself to the floor. Something was very wrong with these men. They smelled normal enough at first sniff, but something else lurked beneath the combination of human, wet clothes, cheese and onion. The unmistakeable whiff of danger.
‘What are they doing here?’ Jessie muttered.
Storm smelled the tension rising inside her, her sharp lightning-scent beginning to crackle.
Fuzzy-Lady’s face creased in annoyance. She strode to the door, blocking the intruders from coming any closer. ‘Can I help you, gentlemen?’
The tallest of the three took off his hat. ‘I do beg your pardon. I am Professor Utterby from Bangor University, and these are my colleagues, Professors Ryston and Nuffield. We were taking an after-dinner stroll when it began to rain rather heavily and we were forced to head for the nearest shelter. Here,’ he added, gesturing around in case Fuzzy-Lady hadn’t understood.
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