Jack Shian and the King's Chalice (19 page)

“Ow!” shouted Rana. “Quit it, will you?”

“That’s far enough!” the same voice directed them.

Jack’s hood was taken from his head, and he faced the bright beam of light again. Gradually the light dimmed, and slowly he was able to open his eyes. As they became accustomed to the light, he saw his Uncle Doonya standing in front of him.

“Dad!” exclaimed Lizzie, but her greeting did not get the expected reply.

“What the hell are you kids doing here?”

The youngsters sat huddled while the Congress members discussed their fate. They were too far away from the fire to feel its warmth, but near enough to hear that the conversation was heated. None felt like speaking, and they sat, cold and disconsolate.

After a while, Grandpa Sandy and Doonya approached, the stone from Grandpa’s sceptre lighting up their faces.

“Ossian,” said Grandpa sternly, “you know better than to risk the lives of your cousins, Rana and Lizzie in particular. You shall return to Keldy at first light.”

The group sat, mute, avoiding eye contact in the dim light.

“You should all be close to home, especially on Hallows’ Eve. Jack, I thought I had impressed on you the danger of being so far from the safety of the castle.”

“We thought we could help,” said Jack quietly. “We discovered things about the Cup and the spirals, and we know there’s others here too – we saw five horses above us.”

“We saw them too,” replied Doonya crossly. “That should remind you of the danger. Didn’t you realise you might be followed? That you might lead the Brashat here?”

“Dad, the Brashat know more than you think.” Petros’s voice was plaintive. “We tried to tell you earlier. Fenrig can disappear. He could have overheard everything.”

“Gilmore said some charmed cloth had been stolen. But how did Fenrig make that into clothes?” asked Grandpa.

Rana and Lizzie looked uneasily at each other, but neither spoke.

“We don’t know,” answered Jack. “But he could’ve been eavesdropping for ages. Is the whole Congress here?”

“Just Atholmor, Rowan, Finbogie, and the Darrig. The others will come tomorrow.” Grandpa paused and looked at the youngsters. Lizzie had started shivering. “You had better come and sit by the fire. Don’t worry, it’s charmed, it can’t be seen more than twenty yards away. And tomorrow morning you are all going home.”

“Are we far from the cave, Grandpa?” asked Rana as they walked towards the small clearing.

“It’s a couple of hundred yards away. Tomorrow we shall be in the best place to find the Cup. We’re camped by the old hermit’s cell,” continued Grandpa. “There’s little of it left now. About half a mile over there,” he indicated with his arm, “is an old ruined castle that belonged to the lord of these parts. An evil man; he cleared his own people away.”

“But what if the Brashat come?” asked Jack.

“Tomorrow is Hallows’ Eve, a day sacred for all Shian creatures. Even the Brashat would not dare to break that.”

“Are you sure?” asked Jack uncertainly.

“I’m sure, but I still don’t want you young ones getting mixed up with the Brashat. Hallows’ Eve is a day for celebration, when we look back and honour all those who have gone before us.” Grandpa examined the stone in his sceptre. “It’s late. Time you lot got some sleep.”

He indicated a flattish bit of ground near the fire, and the five youngsters settled down. Sleep did not come easily, however. The ground was hard, the night cold and a constant muttering came from the Congress members around the fire. It was some time before Jack and the others drifted off.

Jack woke with a start. It was still dark, the fire having all but died out. Someone was tugging his arm.

“Get up!” hissed Ossian. “And be quiet.”

“What is it?” asked Jack blearily.

“Shhh! Come wi’ me.”

Jack looked over to the fire. The Congress members were all asleep, either propped against a tree, or curled up on the ground. Ossian silently woke the others, and together they all crept away from the camp. When they had gone about fifty yards, Ossian stopped.

“A Ghillie-Doo warned me,” he whispered. “There’s Brashat and Hobshee swarmin’ all over the forest.”

“We have to warn Grandpa, then,” said Jack.

“He won’t listen. You heard him last night. He’s just goin’ to send us packin’.”

“What do we do, then?” whispered Rana.

“We’ll have to hide. The Cup only shows itself when the moon rises.”

“What time’s it now?” asked Lizzie, simultaneously yawning and shivering.

“Dawn’s not far off,” replied Ossian. “We’ll hole up for the day, then see how we can help when evenin’ comes.”

“Where’s safe if there’s Brashat and Hobshee all around?” asked Jack.

“There’s an old oak. It’s got this huge cavern in its trunk. I sheltered there once before; the rain was lashin’ down, but it was a fine shelter. It’s no’ too far.”

The first glows of daylight were lightening the sky. Jack yawned as Ossian led them along a faint path. Sure enough, not two hundred yards away, there was an oak tree. Ducking under a low hanging branch, Ossian crawled through a tear in the bark, followed by the others. It was dry inside, and felt a lot warmer than being out in the open.

“It’s pitch dark,” complained Rana.

Tutting, Ossian extracted a small stone from his pouch and set it down. Muttering inaudibly, he flicked his fingers at the stone, and it began to glow. Though dim, they could see that there was room inside for them all.

“We’ll take turns watchin’,” said Ossian. “I’ll go first. You lot get some rest.”

Over the next few hours Ossian, Jack and Petros took it in turns to watch. Against his better judgement, Ossian allowed Rana and Lizzie to go out for a while with their green bonnets on. They returned quickly, however, having seen figures moving among the trees.

“D’you see who they were?” asked Ossian.

“We didn’t get close enough,” replied Rana. “It wasn’t the Congress, though.”

“I want to go home,” said Lizzie. “And I’m hungry.”

“I brought some food wi’ me.”

As Ossian and Petros laid out the provisions they’d brought, Jack edged round so that he was closer to Ossian.

Being cooped up in here’s bad enough, but Aunt Katie’s food will make it desperate. At least Aunt Dorcas can cook.

“What can we do if there’s Brashat and Hobshee around?” Lizzie’s voice trembled.

“We have to get into the cave,” said Jack. “The Cup’s in there somewhere. The Congress can’t complain if we help them get it.”

“D’you want a bet?” said Petros. “Dad’s going to be furious, whatever happens.”

“We’ll have to face that when it happens,” reasoned Jack. “The important thing’s to get the Cup before the Brashat.”

“Atholmor said if the Brashat get the Cup, it could make them so strong they’ll challenge us for the square in Edinburgh,” stated Rana. “And then they’d get the Stone.”

“How are we all goin’ to get to the cave? There’ll be Congress members and Brashat all over the place,” said Ossian.

“Lizzie and me can use our bonnets,” said Rana. “And we brought along some others too.”

“What other ones?” demanded Petros.

“A shifter,” said Rana airily, “and a beetler.”

“You’ve never got a beetler, have you?” exclaimed Jack.
A cap that shrinks you to the size of a beetle! How cool is that?

Rana smiled smugly. “How d’you think I heard what the Congress was talking about yesterday?” she said. “Freya’s been very busy, and she’s a good friend.”

“Freya showed me the shifter while she was making it,” said Jack. “It’s brilliant.”

“You can have it, then, and Petros can take the beetler,” announced Lizzie.

“Well, that gets three of us into the cave, I guess,” said Jack. “But crawling all the way could take hours. And anyone might step on you.”

Petros’s face registered his disgust at the thought.

“I’ll manage,” said Ossian confidently. “The Brashat won’t be lookin’ for me, anyway.”

“Maybe we should hand this back to the Congress,” said Petros apprehensively. “I want to go back to Edinburgh.”

“We’ll go together,” said Jack firmly. “How’re you going to get back to Edinburgh, anyway? You can take the beetler when we get near the cave. Once we get inside we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

Petros grunted, but didn’t reply.

The tree trunk’s cavernous interior was home to many creatures other than the five youngsters. However, Petros and Jack had no luck in trying to get earwigs to run races, and Lizzie announced that she detested staying in a place with so many spiders.

By mid-afternoon, Petros had gravitated to kicking the inside of the trunk in sheer frustration, leading to a short but heated argument with Jack about how best to give themselves away. Rana and Lizzie had ventured outside again using their bonnets, but had seen no one. Ossian cautioned them against straying too far.

“We have to keep an element o’ surprise,” he said. “Showin’ ourselves too early could ruin everythin’.”

“This is the dullest Hallows’ Eve ever,” said Lizzie after a long pause. “We should be out playing tricks, not stuck in a tree with spiders.”

“I bet Purdy and Freya are having fun now,” said Rana moodily. “They’ll be up on the esplanade, or doing all sorts down the High Street.”

“Let’s tell stories, then, or have some songs,” said Jack. “Who knows any good ones about Hallows’ Eve?”

“I’ve got one,” said Ossian, and he began:

“I thought you said you didn’t mind some of the humans,” said Rana angrily. “Why d’you call them that?”

“I’ve met some bad ones. They don’t care for where they live; they poison the water and the plants. And they think they’re so smart.”

“You really don’t like them, do you?” said Lizzie.

“They don’t even like each other,” said Ossian heatedly. “You look at this place, Dunvik. There used to be three or four villages near here. Now there’s no people, they all got driven away. Keldy’s the same. And the ones you do meet, they’re so noisy.” He paused for breath, but Rana butted in before he could continue.

“Well, Mum’s dad was a human. That makes us a quarter human, so you’d better watch what you say, Ossian.”

“I don’t hate all o’ them,” muttered Ossian.

“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” said Petros.

The five fell silent, and for a while nothing was said.

The light outside started to dim, and suddenly the interior of the tree was infested with small midges. The youngsters swiped away at them, but it made little difference.

“Can’t we burn something to get rid of them?” asked Lizzie, which drew a withering look from her brother.

“We’ll head out in fifteen minutes,” said Ossian. “It’ll still be light enough to see.”

The next quarter of an hour dragged by. Like the others, Jack had become thoroughly fed up. The tree’s interior seemed to be closing in on him, and he longed to get out and stretch his legs properly. As yet more birds returned home to the tree to settle for the night, Ossian finally decided that it was safe for them to leave.

Rana and Lizzie were first out, trusting in their bonnets. They crept back to the camp, but found no one. Rana took her bonnet off, turned back and indicated this to the boys, then she and Lizzie carried on. Above the sound of a few chattering birds, Ossian whispered that he would make a tour of the nearby forest before meeting up with the others close to the cave. Jack and Petros nodded agreement, and set off after the girls. Cautiously, they followed the path downwards.

“Where's the cave, then?”

“Ossian said it overlooked the dark loch. The water's over that way – the cave must be nearby.” Then Jack paused. The muscles beside his eyes were twitching furiously, and he was aware that the birdsong had ceased.

“Why's it so quiet?” he whispered. “What's happened to the birds?”

Petros stopped and listened. “You're right. Something's frightened them off.”

Thwack!

A flinthead arrow shot past Jack's face, embedding itself in a tree behind him. On impulse, both boys began to run. Petros was furiously trying to retrieve something from his pocket. In seconds, he had pulled out a dark purple cloth and placed it over his head. Instantly he shrank down out of sight.

The beetler cloth, of course!

Jack had no option but to continue, although he had little idea of where he was heading.

Reaching a large yew tree, he ducked behind it, gasping for breath. After a minute, the thumping in his chest quietened and his breathing settled. Straining, he listened for any sound that might be his pursuer. Nothing. Cautiously, he peered out.

Zap!

The hex lifted him bodily from the ground. Struggling to turn his head, Jack saw with relief that Rowan from the Congress was standing ten yards away, holding his sceptre up.

“Well, well, so we find you at last,” said Rowan calmly. “You have been a slippery little boy. And where are your cousins?”

“I don't know,” gasped Jack.

“You're lying!” shouted Rowan. Then, collecting himself, he said, “We'd better take you to join the Congress.”

He lowered his sceptre, breaking the hex. Jack fell to the ground, landing on his satchel.

Relieved that he would at least see Grandpa and Uncle Doonya, Jack gratefully got up. Rowan shoved him in the back and Jack stumbled forwards.

“Not far to go now,” taunted Rowan after a few minutes. The sound of the water was louder, and Jack could feel rock breaking through the forest floor.

The cave must be near.

And then Jack's blood almost froze. From behind a tree stepped a Hobshee. Short, a malevolent grin spread across its face, it leered at Jack. He turned to Rowan who, to his amazement, just smiled. Rowan shoved Jack again, and he fell forward down the slope. Picking himself up, Jack saw more Hobshee milling around. He could smell roasting meat too.