Jack Shian and the King's Chalice (20 page)

“Here we are!” said Rowan with malicious satisfaction. “Now you can join the rest of your family!”

Jack stepped around the rock and saw that it was the side of the cave entrance. And there in the gloom, huddled together with their backs to the opposite wall, were the members of the Congress. Jack blinked disbelievingly. His grandfather, grimacing in obvious pain, had a gash above his eye. They all looked cowed, beaten, but why? Jack took a step forward and got his answer. Several Brashat, Briannan among them, were aiming sceptres at the prisoners. For that undoubtedly is what they were. Dazed, Jack stumbled forward. Grandpa Sandy looked up, but made no sound.

“Ah, I wondered how long it would be before these meddle-some youngsters showed up,” crowed Briannan. “I trust that you have brought all your wretched friends with you?”

Jack looked imploringly at his grandfather. Then he noticed a small fire at the side of the cave, above which sausages were crackling and spitting on a griddle. Despite the appetising aroma, Jack saw to his disgust that Fenrig was the cook. Jack clenched his fists and moved instinctively towards his antagonist, but he got no further. A bolt from Briannan's sceptre caught him square in the chest. He staggered back, gasping, a searing pain in his lungs.

“I can see that you will have to learn the hard way, like your interfering grandfather,” said Briannan coldly.

He motioned to another Brashat, who stepped forward and picked Jack up by the arm, shoving him roughly towards his uncle. Briannan then turned and mocked the Congress.

“My young Fenrig found the invisibility tailoring we taught him most valuable: all those conversations about lost treasures … quite the little spy, isn't he?”

As Fenrig smirked under his father's praise, a hoodie crow flew into the cave, settling on his extended left forearm. Soundlessly, it opened its beak and deposited a tiny beetle onto Fenrig's left palm. The bird hopped off onto the ground, instantly transforming into a young woman of fifteen or sixteen.

“Thank you, Morrigan,” drawled Briannan. Seeing Jack's look of astonishment, he continued, “I don't believe you've met Fenrig's sister, have you?”

Morrigan preened herself. Jack recognised her from the midsummer festival. She was undeniably pretty – her eyes were gorgeous – but she had the same smugness and condescension exhibited by her brother.

“Now, what shall we do with this insignificant beetle?” sneered Fenrig, making as if to clap his hands.

“No!” shouted Jack, finally getting his breath back.

Fenrig held his right hand just a couple of inches above his left, on which the tiny beetle scuttled, never daring to go over the edge.

“In view of the auspicious nature of this day, I think we will be gracious to our young captive.”

Fenrig dropped the insect, which transfigured back into Petros as it hit the ground. The youngster sat up, bewildered and scared. Doonya crouched down, beckoning Petros to join him.

“That beetler disguise is the worst move I ever made,” he muttered to Jack. “I thought that bird was going to eat me. Bloody terrifying. And her breath smelt foul.”

Rowan stepped forward, his sceptre held at waist level, pointing at the prisoners.

“And you, Rowan,” Petros's fear turned to anger, “to betray the Congress.”

“The Congress is finished. It's weak. It was dragging the whole Shian people down into the mire. Now we will have strong leadership, and the Shian will rise again.”

Uncle Doonya gripped the shoulders of Jack and Petros. Jack realised with a sinking feeling that none of the Congress could speak, and now Grandpa Sandy slumped against the cave wall. At first, Jack thought he had fainted, but then he saw that his grandfather was watching the sky out of the mouth of the cave. Briannan stepped forward.

“See, the moon rises. Soon the Cup will be revealed, and the Brashat will know the secrets of life and death!”

Everyone turned to gaze at the moon as it made its way above some trees beyond the cave. Its light was weak, the night not yet being truly dark, but an eerie glow filled the mouth of the cave. Briannan turned round sharply and extinguished the griddle fire with a bolt from his sceptre. He stared at the back of the cave.

“Where does the light fall? Where is the Cup?”

Gradually, a corner at the rear of the cave began to smoulder, and a few flames flickered. The Hobshee retreated, their yelping cries betraying their fear of the unknown. Briannan, with no such qualms, strode forwards. Plunging his hand into the base of the flames, he grasped the Cup. Withdrawing it in triumph, he turned round and brandished the prize. Though tarnished and covered in cobwebs and grime, the Cup still glimmered.

“The King's Cup!” he proclaimed triumphantly. “Now is the time for the Unseelie to take control! Amadan will surely reward us for this.”

Jack saw Atholmor wilt as they all beheld Briannan in his triumph. Grandpa, still slumped on the ground, looked pale. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Doonya sat, transfixed, as everyone watched Briannan stride out of the cave. The flames had died down, and the cave suddenly seemed very dark. Realising that this might give the prisoners some notion of escape, Rowan twirled his sceptre and stuck it in the ground, spreading a bright glow over the front of the cave. The prisoners squinted at the sudden illumination. The returning Hobshee sneered, taunting the prisoners with mocking cries. Though small in stature, they more than made up for this in menace. Jack shrank from them as they approached.

“I think in honour of our great victory – a most auspicious night on which to triumph – we might allow these wretches their voices back,” said Briannan, clearly delighted with his prize. “Konan, keep watch on them. They may speak, but not leave the cave. We'll go back to the hermit's cell.”

A figure Jack knew he'd seen before now stepped into the cave, his face disfigured as if by fire. A chill swept through Jack, and he felt sick. As Briannan left to examine the Cup in more detail, Konan shuffled awkwardly forward, sceptre in hand. His eyes came to rest on Jack, and they narrowed. The chill in Jack's bones became a frost.

“You,” said Konan with difficulty, his mouth tracing the words with effort, “you are the upstart pup of Phineas. You have his eyes. He caused this,” he indicated his disfigured face, “before we met the Grey. Nine icy years before I escaped. Ha! I mastered time there.”

With what might have been half a smile, he patted one of his pockets before scowling again.

“But I live as an outcast. When this night is done, I shall send you to join your father in his frozen tomb.”

Konan stepped back. The talking had quickly tired him.

“Now you may speak. But if you try to escape, I'll kill you. And the Hobshee would welcome the chance to celebrate Hallows' Eve with some flesh.” He sat back on a ledge of rock, keeping his sceptre trained on the prisoners.

“Jack, Petros, are you all right?” Grandpa spoke slowly, his voice frail.

Jack smiled weakly, and Petros hugged his grandfather.

“We're OK. How about you?”

“Briannan was showing off,” mumbled Grandpa. “He caught me a blow on the head.”

“But how'd they capture you?” asked Jack apprehensively. “You must've been here before them. Didn't you see them coming?”

“Rowan betrayed us,” said Doonya. “He removed the charm around the fire. It was easy then for the Brashat and Hobshee to sneak up. But where are the girls? Did you send them home?”

“No, Dad. They're around somewhere – so's Ossian. They must be all right, otherwise they'd have been brought here too.”

“Tell him about the bonnets, Petros.”

“They've got invisible bonnets. I think Freya made them. They're smart enough to keep out of harm's way.”

“I hope you're right,” muttered Doonya. “I can't imagine what your mother's thinking now.”

Jack nudged Petros, and indicated Konan.

“He's the one who tried to grab me back in Edinburgh,” he whispered.

“You sure?”

Petros looked panicked, and Jack thought he'd leave the subject for now.

“Briannan's forgotten the Hobshee are inland creatures. They don't like the sea.” Grandpa winced and clenched his teeth. “And there's a rip tide coming. I can hear it.”

Jack could see that some of the Hobshee were glancing apprehensively around. The sound of the sea
was
growing in intensity.

The tide runs into this cave! Briannan's left us to drown here!

One of the Hobshee uttered a grunt and made to climb up the slope towards the hermit's cell. Two more followed, leaving just two by the cave. Distracted by this, Konan went to give them orders to remain.

Jack saw his chance. Reaching into his satchel, he retrieved the silk shifter Rana had given him back at the oak tree. Gripping his satchel, he surreptitiously placed the cap on his head just as Konan turned back towards the prisoners.

Whish!

Jack was hoiked fifteen yards outside the mouth of the cave. He fell on his side, but was quickly up and running as fast as he could. He heard shouts and curses behind him as Konan reprimanded the Hobshee.

The sea. They'll never follow me there.

Jack ran towards the sound of the water. His heart was pounding, but he knew he had to keep going. The shouts behind him grew dimmer as the noise of the waves before him became louder. At last, rounding a clump of rocks, he saw in front of him the great dark loch of Dunvik.

Exhausted, Jack collapsed behind a large rock. Terrified that his gasps for air could be heard half a mile away, he tried to hold his breath, and listened for the sound of pursuers. He didn’t dare to look out from behind his rock.

As his body recovered from the exertion and the terror, Jack began to think. His impulse had been to get away. The memory of Konan’s menacing eyes and his threats to kill the prisoners set Jack’s heart racing again. He had escaped on impulse, but where could he go?

Jack looked out over the dark loch. The moon shone brightly now, its light reflecting on the ruffled waters. The waves were lapping at his feet. Ossian had said that the sea sometimes even ran into the cave.

That means this rock will be under water soon. I can’t stay here long. But where do I go now? I wish Petros was here, or Grandpa.

Jack shivered. The wind was starting to whip around him now, and his body was cooling down quickly. He pulled his coat tighter around himself, but it made little difference.

I’d almost be better off in the cave, at least it’s sheltered there.

Realising that he would have to make a move, Jack was debating which way to go when he heard a twig snap behind him. He froze again. Someone
had
followed him.
Well
, he thought,
it’s either drown or die on my feet
. He stood up, and stepped out from behind his sheltering place.

“Hiya, Jack,” said Cosmo casually. “How’re you doing?”

“You could see me?” said Jack. “But how? It’s dark.”

“My oscuroscope. I’ll tell you about it later if there’s time. But first I’ve got to ask you: has Briannan really got the Chalice?”

“The Cup? Yes, he’s taken it up to the hermit’s cell.”

“Damn! It’s going to be hard now for us to get it back.”

“Who’s ‘us’?”

“I’ve got some friends with me. Look Jack, the Cup’s proper name is the Chalice. Do you know what it really is?”

“I know it’s one of the three treasures. We’ve got the Stone in the castle. Or the humans have got it. But if we get the Cup … I mean the Chalice, that’ll make the Stone stronger. They say it tells secrets of life and death.” Jack thought for a few moments. “You know all about the Cup, then?”

Cosmo just smiled. “Used properly, Jack, the Chalice could double or even treble the power of the Stone. And with the Sphere – who knows?”

“But you told the Congress you didn’t know much.”

“I didn’t trust them. And it looks like I was right. There’s a traitor, isn’t there? The Brashat could never have outwitted the whole Congress.”

Jack looked down. “Rowan gave them away.”

“It’s just as well I didn’t say much then, isn’t it?”

Jack could only agree, but this still didn’t help them to rescue Petros and the others.

“Come on,” said Cosmo. “We’ll go and join my friends. Then we’ll have to decide what we can do.”

Together they walked around the shoreline, eventually reaching an old cottage by the water’s edge. As they neared it, Jack could clearly hear Rana.

“We were doing fine! Those stupid Brashat couldn’t see us. We could’ve got to Grandpa and the others if you’d let us.”

“I’m no’ goin’ over this again,” said Ossian in exasperation. Then he looked up. “Hiya, Jack! Cosmo find you all right?”

“How many Brashat are there?” asked Oobit, emerging from the doorway.

“Dozens,” replied Jack. “And Konan had some Hobshee with him by the cave, and more went off with Briannan.”

“The plan kind of centred around getting to the Chalice first,” admitted Cosmo.

“But many people believe the Cup is theirs.” Henri spoke up for the first time. Jack had not seen him in the gloom.

“Before we can decide where it goes, we have to get it back,” replied Cosmo. “Are you with us?”

“Cosmo, you asked me as a friend, and I honour you for this,” said Henri. “We are proud to join you as your allies tonight.”

Allies! Jack’s mind raced. Where had he heard that before? Of course! Tamlina had said the ram’s horn would summon allies in the quest. Jack felt in his satchel. There it was, wrapped up in his spare shirt. And there was something else, deep down in his memory … He frowned in concentration, gritting his teeth as he tried to remember.

“What’s the matter, Jack?” asked Rana. “You look like you’ve just signed up for extra lessons with Murkle!”

“That’s it!” shouted Jack. “Murkle’s lesson – when Purdy drew the spirals! The ghosts can be conjured up with a ram’s horn.”