Jack Shian and the Destiny Stone (17 page)

Jack looked each way along the line and saw that there was a selkie hovering by each pustula, creating enough turbulence in the water to waken their inhabitants.

Jack stood up. He had no idea of how long he'd been asleep; but he felt refreshed.

The words echoed in his head:
Go quickly!

“Come on,” he urged Fenrig. “It's time to go.”

The message seemed to have permeated the consciousness of all the travellers, for the pustulas now started to move again.

Morrigan cursed under her breath.

She
couldn't get us moving; but the selkies did
, thought Jack.
If it
was
the selkies …

It was a cheery thought, but one that had to sustain him for a long time. The rhythm of the march was soon resumed, and even with their seventh-hour stops, it seemed like they had been on the bridge for an eternity. Jack was down to his last fey biscuit, and he had only a few drops of water left. Even worse, the weeds distributed by Papa Legba had shrivelled, and Jack was uncomfortably aware that there wasn't as much air inside the pustula. Breathing was getting difficult.

The selkies were a reassuring presence, but it didn't stop a few heart-thumping moments when a giant dark shape floated past, a mournful cry lingering in the water long after it had gone.

“What in Tua's name was that?” gasped Fenrig.

“Chust a whale,” said Cal. “Though that kind wouldn't attack uss.”

Jack wasn't sure if this was good to know or not. They'd beaten off merfolk – with the selkies' help – but whales were another matter. At Shian size, they would be little more than a snack to a whale.

And
, thought Jack as he considered the diminishing water supply,
we'll be a dried snack before long
.

He wasn't the only one to notice. From further back came complaints from Enda's companions the Twa Tams.

“We're running out of air back here! How much further?”

Phineas looked back.

“There's only Ossian and Kedge behind you. One of you move into their pustula: there'll be more air in it.”

“You mean go out into the water?”

“If you want more air, there's no choice,” said Phineas emphatically.

The column paused to watch as one of the Tams took a deep breath, and stepped through his pustula wall and frantically jumped into the one behind him.

“Hey! It worked!”

The column moved on again, but it was soon clear that both air and drinking water were in short supply. Breathing became laboured, and as the last of the food and water were consumed, a sense of despair descended. Iain Dubh was faring badly, along with all his HebShian comrades. Stumbling, falling, cursing, they were a pathetic sight.

They were pretty scrawny to start with,
thought Jack.
Now they look as if they're going to drop.

Jack had just reached the point of thinking that he would rather sink down and die, when he heard a triumphant shriek from Morrigan. Even through the dark water there was clearly light ahead. A dim glow, no more, but light. Reinvigorated, the pustulas shuffled along, the pace quickening.

“Nice one, Mor,” said Fenrig, as Morrigan turned round to gaze jubilantly at the exhausted travellers behind her. His lips were as dry as Jack's, and his face seemed hollow, but he looked delighted.

The pustula inhabitants hobbled the final stretch onto a rock platform, whereupon Morrigan brandished her sceptre and uttered, “
Claudopont!
”

The sea fell away from either side, taking the pustula walls with it.

Jack looked round. It was another cave, but there was light coming from somewhere. Iain Dubh and the other HebShian had collapsed; they looked like they might never get up.

“Is that daylight?” asked Daid, a note of relief in his voice.

“Of a kind,” replied Phineas. “If this is Tula, there's little true light here in winter.”

“Doesn't matter,” gasped Armina. “I need fresh air. Let's get out of here.”

Morrigan had run ahead, casting beams of light from her sceptre, searching for an exit. With a sharp cry, she blasted a hole in the rock, and the cave wall fell away.

But if the travellers had been expecting daylight and fresh air, they were disappointed. Within seconds they were engulfed in a grimy sulphurous fog that made breathing painful.

“What's this?” gasped Jack in fear and astonishment. His lungs felt like they were burning.

“It's air poison,” explained Phineas between wheezes. “It's what happens when you upset the balance.”

“Welcome to Tula!”

Morrigan alone seemed unconcerned at the environmental catastrophe that surrounded them. She appeared able to breathe without undue effort; even Fenrig was looking with astonishment as his sister leapt ahead.

“This way!” she exclaimed, leading them through the destroyed cave wall.

Phineas pulled Iain Dubh to his feet, while Kedge and Ossian helped the others. Jack brought up the rear, and was about to step through the wall, when he felt a tug on his sleeve. Turning round, he was astonished to see Papa Legba.

The old man put his finger to his lips, and showed Jack the ring he was wearing.

A triple-S spiral! Just like Tamlina's.

“It is not safe for you to take the
Mapa
onto this island. You must leave it here with me.”

Jack pulled away from the old man, who continued to hold onto his sleeve.

“The creatures here will kill you for the
Mapa
,” urged Papa Legba.

No,
thought Jack.
It's one of the three treasures; and I've been entrusted to keep it. I can't give it to this … dark magycks master.

“If you doubt me, look at the
Mapa
.”

Jack quickly tugged the map free from Tamlina's ring, and held the flag out. As it curled up into a ball, Jack could see that it showed Papa Legba in one circle, and the
Mapa
in the other.

He must be telling the truth!

“Trust me. I'm with Gosol.” The old man indicated his ring again.

A peaceful feeling came over Jack. Flicking the sphere back into a flag, he handed it over.

“Keep the ring in your pocket. Now, you must catch the others up.” And with that, Papa Legba disappeared.

Jack hurried through the hole in the wall. The outside of the cave was even worse: the fog was thicker, darker, and even more sulphurous; and a biting wind cut through them. Jack took a step and nearly disappeared.

The foul smell seemed to come from the very swamp around them: a squelchy, putrid, nauseating wasteland that almost defied life. Ossian had doubled back to find Jack, and now hauled him out of the sticky foul-smelling gloop he'd stepped into. Jack got to his knees and checked that Trog's knife was still there.

Phew. Need to clean that when I can.

“It's bogland!” shouted Armina, as she sank in up to her knees. “We'll never get far in this!”

With low visibility, the bog seemed to stretch, featureless, in every direction. It was a place that reeked of death, decay, and despair. An icy wind bore down on the hapless travellers.

“Gilmore,” begged Iain Dubh, shivering with the cold, “haven't you got anything we can wear to help us here?”

Jack thought back to Gilmore's early promises of charmed clothes that could do all sorts – even make you fly.

“I'm … sorry …” gasped Gilmore. “I … never … expected … this.” Each breath was an effort.

“What can we get to eat here?” demanded Arvin.

“Eat? Can you see any animals living in this desert bog? Save your breath for walking, you dolt!” Kedge spat.

“Kedge is right. Breathe as slowly as you can. And keep moving,” shouted Ossian. “In single file! Behind Morrigan!”

“Keep your swords clear of the bog-water!” urged Phineas. “We may need them before long! For Boabans, and the Cu-shee.”

As Morrigan led them off into the murky expanse, Jack stumbled forward. He felt he hadn't eaten in a week. His head started to swim.

“Look!” shouted Cal, as a ghostly silhouette appeared in front of them.

It was a building: that much Jack could make out. But how far away it was, and how big, was impossible to tell. Three crows swooped down on the travellers, cawing raucously.

“Fractals' Seer!” shrieked Morrigan exuberantly.

“Is Murkle in there?” demanded Daid.

“Never mind him: have they got food?” demanded Ossian. “I'm starvin'.”

“Everything that's needed is in there,” replied Morrigan, heading for the gloomy silhouette.

The travellers, exhausted, and hungry beyond imagination, fell into line behind her. Except Enda, who held back, tugging at Phineas' sleeve.

“I don't like this. Where's all the horrible creatures they talked about, if not in there?”

“We can't stay out here,” gasped Phineas. “If the air doesn't poison us, we'll die of hunger, or exposure. Nothing can live long out here; and it's nearly nightfall, anyway. They must have some way of keeping the air clean inside.”

Enda looked askance at Phineas, but said nothing.

The silhouette grew larger with astonishing quickness, and even in the gloomy twilight Jack could see that it was a peculiar shape.

Like I saw in the
Mapa Mundi
, when Grandpa got the Phosphan curse again … it's all pointy-shaped.

As they neared the strange building, the crows left them, and a path became clearer, leading up to a large wooden door. In the occasional ray of the setting sun that permeated the fog, Jack thought he could make out carvings around the huge door. They were the oddest-looking beasts he had ever seen. And all the rocks that made up the towering wall were pointy-shaped. Jack's teeth chattered: he'd never been so cold. Gilmore's super-warm clothing was no protection here.

“Swords and sceptres ready!” cautioned Phineas. “If it's Boaban Shee or Cu-shee, aim for their ankles. If it's witches, use your sceptres!”

“This is for real,” whispered Ossian to Jack, who couldn't help thinking that a nice battle was just what he needed to warm up. After he'd had something to eat and drink, of course. But then he looked around at his fellow travellers. Iain Dubh looked fit to drop; Daid wasn't much better … In fact, only Enda, Ossian, Kedge and his father looked in any state to fight.

And Morrigan, of course. Taking the lead as she had done for so long, she strode up to the door and struck it with her sceptre. A rumbling echo-ey sound came from within.

Nothing.

Morrigan struck the door again, with even greater force.

Still nothing.

“Shouldn't we just try the handle?” asked Fenrig.

He stepped up, and grasped the huge steel handle, but completely failed to shift it.

“Let me have a go,” muttered Kedge.

Taking the handle in both hands, he wrenched it to the right, and the door creaked open.

A waft of fresh air hit them, and the travellers hurried inside.

“That's better!” beamed Armina, as they closed the door behind them. “That stuff outside is terrible.”

The air inside
was
breathable. It smelt clean, if anything.

Jack looked around. They were inside a hall, with two burning staves on the wall. In the dim light, Jack could make out carved stone figures above the staves. Strange-looking women, contorted and gruesome.

“Mallisons!” shouted Morrigan. “Vitalise!”

The new arrivals had no time to react. In two seconds the carved figures had dropped from the walls. One of them walked up to Morrigan.

“I knew ye'd come.”

 

Morrigan seemed to blush. She even curtsied.

“I am ready.”

“And how many have ye brought?” It was a squeaky voice.

“A score, Endora; and my brother.”

The travellers, except for Morrigan, shrank back into a huddle, facing the old women, whose staring eyes were disturbingly large.

Must be because it’s so dark in here.

Jack gripped his sword so tightly he could feel his hand pulsing, but glancing to his side he could see that Ishona and Daid were on the point of fainting. From hunger or fear, it made no difference: the arrivals would offer little resistance.

“There’s no need for weapons,” said Endora, examining the group. “The laws of island hospitality demand that guests are not armed.”

Phineas made to protest, but Iain Dubh held up a warning finger.

“Do as she says. They will not attack us.”

“How can he be sure?” whispered Jack to his father.

“I don’t know,” hissed Phineas. “But throw down your sword noisily – create a disturbance.”

Jack chucked his sword noisily onto the ground, at which the others did the same – except Phineas. In the clatter of steel hitting the cold stone floor he secreted his sword in his jacket, as he had done in Nebula.

“We will see that they are kept safe for you,” croaked the other woman.

She threw her cloak onto the ground, and scooped up the swords into a bundle. “And don’t think that your sceptres are of any use here: Tula does not work that way.” Clutching the bundled swords, she hobbled away.

“Wait here,” cackled Endora as she set off down the hall. “The Ashray will see you to the dining hall.”

Morrigan kept pace with Endora, whispering urgently in her ear, as her fellow travellers shuffled their feet uneasily.

How come Morrigan knows her already? This place is supposed to be full of the worst kind of witch.

“She’s right about the sceptres,” said Cal. “There’s no power here.”

“It was always said to be desolate; but it beats me how anyone can live here at all. There wasn’t a single tree outside,” noted Arvin. “No life of any kind.”

“The Kildashie burned the last of the trees.”