Jack Shian and the Destiny Stone (9 page)

“’Talis.” Caskill nodded, and belched again.

“‘Digitalis’, Caskill.”

“We haven’t time for this,” said Grandpa, tugging Jack’s sleeve. “We must get to the Hebseelie Court, or all is lost.”

In the gloom of the night, the fifty Shian made their way north over the short distance towards Balbegan. Grandpa Sandy proudly held the Shian flag aloft as he urged them on, but tiredness was taking its toll. Lizzie was almost walking in her sleep, and was only kept upright by Rana’s determined grip on her arm.

“The Hebseelie Court meets under the silver bough,” said Grandpa encouragingly, and striding forward. “They’ll be there for Hallows’ Eve.”

“Couldn’t we grow to human size?” asked Petros, struggling to keep up. “We’d get there quicker.”

“For centuries the Hebseelie Court has had little to do with humans,” replied his grandfather. “If we were to try that, they would conclude it was human trickery.”

“But we have the Shian flag,” pointed out Petros. “They’re bound to let us in.”

“If they see humans with their flag, that won’t look like an act of friendship,” stated Phineas coldly. “We must be careful.”

“There it is!” cried Ossian triumphantly. Having run ahead, he was now pointing to a striking silver tree that glistened in the pale moonlight. “Let’s get inside!”

“Wait,” urged Grandpa Sandy. “They’re bound to know we’re coming. We need to approach deiseil.”

“Deiseil?” asked Jack, turning to his father. The bough was not twenty yards ahead of them.

“Sunwise – it shows we come in peace. Grandpa’s right: they’re bound to have had people watching us. Caskill’s battle will have woken every Shian for miles around. Our presence here is no secret.”

“But we don’t have time for niceties,” snapped Murkle. “And in any case there’s no sun: it’s nearly midnight.”

“If we go in without doing this, we’ll throw everything away,” stated Phineas firmly. “I’ll lead.”

He started forward, and the whole crowd fell into line behind him.

“What’s deiseil?” Lizzie yawned expansively as she accompanied her sister.

“We have to go clockwise around the tree, three times: west, then north, then east, and south. That way they’ll know we’re not attacking.” Jack proudly showed off something he’d remembered from a Murkle lesson.

But that doesn’t explain why he doesn’t remember it himself,
he thought.
Honestly.

Murkle’s enthusiasm was indeed once again running ahead of his book learning. The expert on Shian tales fidgeted, keen to get inside the tree; but progress was not smooth. By the time the crowd had all gone round the tree, the head of the queue had met the tail, and there was some confusion over who had gone round how many times.

“This is ridiculous!” shouted Murkle as people at the back collided with those ahead of them. “We must get inside!”

Having finally satisfied himself that everyone had indeed completed the three circuits, Grandpa Sandy halted and held the flag up.

“This had better work,” muttered Jack.

Grandpa held the flag out towards the silver bough and shouted, “
Effatha!
”

“Will the charm work here?” whispered Rana to Petros.

She needn’t have worried. The tree glowed, and a door in its side opened, revealing a staircase leading down.

“Inside! Quick!”

Jack was in just behind his grandfather as he stepped into the tree. The spiral staircase was steep, and he nearly lost his footing as they clattered down the stairs.

“What time is it?” asked Murkle anxiously as the last one reached the foot of the stairs.

They were in a long chamber, lit only by a single burning torch.

“A few minutes before midnight,” replied Phineas testily. “Let’s get in.”

Jack was dimly aware of music, but he couldn’t locate its source.

“What is this place?” asked Rana.

“It’s like the chamber outside the hall at Cos-Howe,” said Ossian. “Look, there’s the door.”

Jack had been unable to see the dim outline of a large wooden door in the gloom, but now his grandfather strode up and struck the door with his sceptre. The sound echoed around the antechamber.

The door opened with a
whoosh!,
spilling music and light. Framed in the doorway was a tall red-haired man, who briefly contemplated the crowd before him. Then he saw the flag.

“You … have the flag? On Hallows’ Eve?”

Quickly, he indicated for the crowd to enter.

If the antechamber had been like the one at Cos-Howe, there the resemblance ended. This was the biggest hall Jack had ever seen – or imagined. Burning torches lined the sides, throwing out heat and light. The celebrations were in full swing. Jack was overwhelmed by the number of people, the music, the laughter – but mostly by the smell and sight of the food. His stomach rumbled, and he moved involuntarily towards a table with food scattered over its surface.

His father’s arm restrained him.

“Later. We have business to conduct first.”

Grandpa Sandy stood at the front of the newcomers, and held the flag aloft.

“I am Sandy of the Stone, from the castle in Edinburgh. We crave an audience with the Hebseelie Court.” He waved the flag.

The music died instantly, and all eyes turned on the new arrivals.

“And where is Atholmor?”

A fair-haired woman had come forward, and she stood now before Sandy.

“He was taken by the Kildashie; maybe killed. We crave the Hebseelie Court’s help in regaining our castle, and the Destiny Stone within it. The Kildashie will not stop if they get the Stone.”

The woman turned, fixing her gaze on a distant figure. Then she turned back, and nodded at Sandy.

“You may come to plead your cause with the praesidium. Bring your son, and his son. Coll here will see to the rest of your group.”

Jack saw the red-haired man beckon the others to some nearby tables. Grandpa Sandy nodded at Enda, who had moved forward.

“We have no option. Do as Coll says; and see the others are fed.”

Enda stared for a moment, but then turned on his heel, and indicated for the others to follow Coll.

“I am Ishona. Come.”

The fair-haired woman led Jack, his father and grandfather along the length of the hall. The music restarted, but without its previous fervour. Jack could feel eyes following them as they proceeded with the flag.

I’d feel happier if we’d all stayed together.

It seemed like ages before they reached the end of the hall, and Jack had lost count of the number of tables they had passed. His hunger hadn’t lessened, though.

At a raised table sat three well-dressed men. They were middle-aged; older than all the people they had passed on their walk up the hall; but, like the other revellers, they looked healthy and well fed. Each faced an array of discarded plates and goblets. Silently, Ishona joined them.

“Hallows’ Eve is nearly spent.” One of them rose and spoke evenly. He had an untidy mane of jet-black hair. “What wish you of our Hebseelie Court?”

“The Kildashie have taken Edinburgh …” began Grandpa Sandy, but he was silenced by a raised hand.

“Not you; the youth. By what name are you known?”

“Jack. Sir.” Jack gulped.

“Well, Jack sir; pray tell me why you interrupt our Hallows’ Eve feast.”

Jack looked nervously at his father, then his grandfather. Phineas smiled encouragingly.

“We are the Watchers of the Stone. Last Hallows’ Eve we defeated the Brashat, and got the King’s Chalice. But the Kildashie have taken the Shian square, and they have turned summer back to winter. If they get the Stone and the Chalice from the humans’ castle, they will be unstoppable.”

“You are Jack Shian who retrieved the Chalice, then,” said the man with a smile. “Your fame precedes you, young man. I am Iain Dubh – Black John. Welcome to our feast. Would you eat?”

Jack wanted to shout “Yes!” as loud as he could, but with difficulty he just nodded, and the three of them were invited to join the top table.

“You will indulge me, Sandy of the Stone,” said Iain Dubh with a glint in his eye; “but we have heard of your grandson’s exploits last Hallows’ Eve. I had to hear from him myself. And you have brought back our flag.”

“We bring this as a sign of our good intentions. We know that this flag was precious to your Court.”

“The flag gains you entry here,” said Iain Dubh firmly. “But how did you get past the Urisk?”

“We engaged Caskill the giant. He is free now.”

“You have freed the giant?!” One of the others shouted, spraying wine over the table.

“We pledged him his freedom if he would help us. Our task is urgent; we had no option.”

“Then tell me why you need our help so,” said Iain Dubh. “The giant we will deal with later. Speak freely: Saorbeg and Clavers here are my right-hand men; and Ishona shares all our discussions.”

As they were brought fresh food and drink, Grandpa Sandy explained the history of the Kildashie takeover, and the urgency of evicting them before they harnessed the Stone’s power.

Iain Dubh sat thoughtfully for a few moments, then leant over to speak to his colleagues. When he faced Jack and his family again he was stern-faced.

“The Kildashie are Unseelie, and no friends of ours. But they have abandoned their island home now; whatever they are doing to the weather affects only the mainland. What is that to us?”

“They will not be content with that,” urged Phineas. “They lead an alliance of the worst Unseelie. You must have heard what is happening.”

“With our flag again, we can defend our islands against anyone,” sneered Saorbeg. “Even with the Stone, the Kildashie cannot touch us. For that they will need the third treasure; or maybe you city Shian have forgotten our history.”

Jack was about to speak when he intercepted an urgent stare from his father:
No!

Jack had become so used to the flag being around his neck that he was only rarely aware of it now. But he fingered his neck nervously. The flag was invisible, but Tamlina’s ring seemed so obvious: surely they were bound to see it?

However, Iain Dubh and his colleagues seemed oblivious of the presence of the third Shian treasure.

“You have our Shian flag,” said Clavers slowly. “And you have walked into our Court unarmed.”

Jack felt his stomach fall several feet. Beside him, his father gripped the handle of the sword he had secreted within his cloak.

Iain Dubh stood up again, and faced Jack.

“Have no fear, young man: Clavers is jesting. Under our laws of hospitality, you shall not be harmed. And if you have retrieved our flag, stolen by the humans so long ago, then clearly you are meant for great things.”

“But will you join us against the Kildashie?”

Iain Dubh paused, and looked at Saorbeg and Clavers.

“We must discuss that. But even with our help, I fear you cannot hope to defeat the Kildashie.”

No hope? We came all the way here to be told there’s no hope?

“But,” continued Iain Dubh, “if you could recruit our Norseelie cousins, that might suffice. The island Shian united will be formidable.”

“
All
the island Shian?” demanded Phineas, standing up now. “Are you aware that the Tula Shian may have the Raglan stone?”

“I know of no Raglan stone.” Iain Dubh’s eyes narrowed. “But what know you of the Tula?”

“They live off the north coast, but they are not Norseelie; and I have heard they hold a charmed stone.”

“The Tula Shian are content to stay on their miserable bog-island.” shouted Saorbeg, rising to his feet. “Going there can only make us more enemies. It’s madness!”

Iain Dubh raised his arm, and Saorbeg sat down again, scowling.

“If what you say is true, then your task is harder still. We cannot allow a powerful enemy to be at our rear.”

“The Tula Shian have …” began Clavers, but he was silenced by a thump on the table by Iain Dubh.

“The Raglan must be retrieved from Tula,” said Phineas firmly. “I have heard that there is a secret route there – a bridge.”

Iain Dubh eyed Phineas suspiciously.

“That bridge is dark magycks; and I have no idea how you would even know of such a thing. In any case, your task is to persuade Magnus of Novehowe to join you,” added Iain Dubh. “If he agrees, we will join too.”

Jack was baffled. How many ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ were there?

“We know well what the Kildashie and their allies have been doing,” continued Iain Dubh. “To defeat them will require Shian from all the islands; and help from elsewhere too, if we can secure it. We must discuss this ourselves, so we will let you rejoin your group. Hallows’ Day is here.”

Jack saw his grandfather lean over and whisper in Phineas’ ear. When Grandpa Sandy sat up again, Jack saw that he was furious.

Phineas looked slyly across at Jack, and winked.

As Jack walked between his father and grandfather back down the hall, he was acutely aware that they were not even looking at each other.
What had all that been about?

“Come on, Jack. The food’s great.” Rana shoved Lizzie up to make room for Jack on the bench.

Jack threw his cloak onto a pile of other cloaks.

“What happened up there?” asked Ossian. “Why’d Grandpa leave the flag with them?”

“The flag got us in here,” explained Jack, crumbs spilling from his mouth. “But it’s theirs, so they’re keeping it.” He gulped down some elderberry juice.

“Are they going to help us?” queried Petros. “I mean, that was the whole point.”

“It’s complicated,” replied Jack between gulps. “They might, if we get the Norseelie to join in; but Dad says we’ve got to go to Tula as well.”

“Tula?” shouted Ossian. Then, lowering his voice, he went on, “I’ve been all over the country, but that’s one place I never want to go.”

“What’s wrong with it?” asked Lizzie.

“The Boaban Shee are there; and the worst kind of witches. We’d be lucky to get out alive.”

“It’s something about the Raglan stone,” went on Jack. “My dad said the Tula Shian have it. Grandpa was furious.”