The Flight of the Griffin (20 page)

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The arrival of Trader Jack was obviously a cause for celebration. The trader headed a small caravan of three clonking wagons piled high with all manner of goods and products. They halted and made a camp cum market outside of the Acorn and were immediately surrounded by a small crowd of eager onlookers. One wagon was filled with barrels that were destined for the inn while the other two held a mixture of the trader’s possessions and marketable goods. Trader Jack himself was not a Minsten, which was the first thing that struck
The Griffin’s
crew as they watched from a table outside the Acorn. He was taller, and appeared to be from the mainland. The second thing that struck them was that he wasn’t apt to doing much work himself. He had three helpers with him who drove the wagons, cared for the oxen that pulled them, as well as unloading the barrels and setting up the stalls to display the goods.

More townsfolk began to emerge wearing their best clothes and Trader Jack set to doing what he did best; he sold. His patter was fine, his delivery perfect. He flattered the ladies and complimented the men, gave sweets to the children and had a roving eye, searching out the buyers from the crowd.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I come here today with news and goods from the far distant corners of this island of ours.’ He beamed at the crowd. ‘We have fine fabrics from the north, fresh fruits from the east, precious stones and jewellery from the west. What we don’t have isn’t worth having, which is why we don’t have it. So step up and treat yourselves, you just know you want to.’ Again, he stopped and beamed at the crowd, many of whom had been saying the words with him; they’d heard them so many times before.

‘
Four Corners of the island! How big do they think this place is?’ Pardigan smiled at the trader’s antics. ‘We sailed around most of it in less than a day, didn’t we?’

‘Don’t forget what that warehouseman, Maginty said, most of these people haven’t been outside of this town their entire lives, they have no idea how big the island is,’ said Tarent, watching the trader intently. ‘Trader Jack is a salesman, and salesmen like making deals. I think I’ll have a word with him later, maybe we’ll be able to come to some arrangement.’

Barrels of Elder ale were rolled into the Acorn and then a good business was transacted from the stalls with the local people. After some time, the crowd thinned out and Tarent managed to draw the trader to one side and a discussion was started that had both of them smiling, frowning and gesturing wildly at various points, until Tarent abruptly turned on his heels and walked back to his friends at the table.

‘What’s the matter, is he pretending the Hidden don’t exist or something?’ asked Quint.

‘Oh he says they exist, and that if we’re crazy enough to want to go, then he’ll take us. He just doesn’t want to be seen doing it, case he loses his licence to trade.

‘If we can get out and meet them further up the path, he’ll take us for five gold pieces.’

Pardigan spluttered into his mug. ‘Five gold pieces…is he mad?’

‘No, he’s a salesman, and that’s a very good deal for asking him to do something highly illegal and, in his mind, incredibly stupid. It’s up to us to get out of here and meet him on the other side of the gate. The problem is, the gate is locked, and guess who has the key?’

‘Your friend the Customs man, of course,’ muttered Pardigan. ‘Don’t worry I’ll get the key, leave it to me.’

‘That’s what I hoped you’d say,’ said Tarent. ‘Our other problem is we have to move
The Griffin
, or it’ll be obvious we’re not here. If
The Griffin
is still at anchor and we’re not seen around town, they’ll know we’ve gone past the gate and we’ll have problems when we come back.’

‘Well maybe there’s some way that we won’t have to move her,’ said Loras drifting off in thought. The others left him to it, enjoying the afternoon’s entertainment, trusting in Loras’s ability to do whatever was necessary with
The Griffin
.

Trader Jack and his wagons left for the interior two days after arriving in town and that same morning
The Griffin
was also seen to leave, heading for open sea. The Customs man was greatly relieved. He hadn’t liked the scruffy little boat and its young crew and had sent letters to Freya asking for verification of the trading contract but wasn’t expecting a reply for weeks. All in all it was best they were gone and no longer his problem. What he didn’t see was one of the Minsten fishing boats limping back into port some time later, well before the rest of the small fleet, and tying up in a far corner. It was
The Griffin
having been disguised both physically and magically.

The crew had sailed east a short while then anchored up and changed the look of the boat, not in any great way, but enough so that it appeared to be different. Loras had added some spells to help make people believe that it was one of the normal fleet and they had sailed back in with only Quint on deck. The spell worked so well that even the harbourmaster ignored them as Quint tied up. They then sat below deck spending a hot and uncomfortable day out of sight, waiting for nightfall and an opportunity to move.

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Chapter 14

Finding T
he Hidden

The moon had long risen, bathing the island in a soft magical light, the harbour and streets long deserted. Even the band at the Acorn had gone home before
The Griffin’s
crew finally chanced to walk into town.

Mahra flew ahead, ready to warn of any late-night wanderers, as Pardigan practised his invisibility, from time to time flickering into view with a curse as he struggled to hold the spell. So it was three, then sometimes four people that headed past the Acorn and on towards the gated path.

The gate, when they reached it, was over twice the height of any of them and was inevitably made of wood. Wrapped around the two central poles was a thick metal chain and padlock with a sign that none of them could read. A small black and white house stood close by, a lamp burning in an upstairs window.

‘He’s still awake,’ hissed Tarent.

Pardigan peered up at the window. ‘No problem, I’ll see you later.’ He blinked out of sight and crossed the road. The others crouched down in the shade of a tree, out of the bright moonlight, watched over by a large owl, its eyes blinking and its head swivelling as it peered all around.

Pardigan skirted the house and saw his way in almost immediately; a downstairs window had been left slightly ajar allowing air into the pantry. He pushed up the latch with his knife and slipped over the sill.

Landing softly he stopped, listening, every sense tingling as he waited for sound, but the house was silent. He allowed himself to relax a little, stood and looked around the small pantry. A large cheese sat under a mesh dome and Pardigan cut a slice and stuffed it into his mouth as he moved to the door. It creaked as he opened it and he froze. A ginger cat had lifted its head and was staring at him. His last encounter with a cat had turned out to be Mahra, so he didn’t take this one’s presence for granted, especially when it followed his invisible progress across the kitchen as if it could see him. The kitchen opened out onto a small hallway with a staircase going up to bedrooms above and two other doors, one of which he carefully opened and slipped through.

A writing desk covered with papers stood centrally with two cabinets to either side. Glancing out of the window, he could just make out the shapes of his friends by the tree opposite and he stifled the impulse to hold back the curtain and wave. He had been hoping the key would be lying on a desk or hung on a wall, but after a brief search, it was obvious that there were no keys in the study at all. The next room, a small sitting room was quickly searched and no keys found; it must be upstairs.

Mahra returned from a short flight and landed on a branch above the boys’ heads. ‘Have you seen him yet?’ Her voice was strange and hooting as an owl.

‘No, no sign, he’s been in there for a while now but he’ll be okay.’ Quint sounded confident in his friend’s abilities. ‘Did you fly up the path and see if the traders are there?’

‘Oh they’re there. The wagons are all grouped together and they’re playing music.’ Her head twisted to stare at Loras, her eyes blinked. ‘It’s much better music than that awful noise in the Acorn.’

‘Oh and an owl is going to know good music when it hears it,’ retorted Loras with a grin, his teeth white in the moonlight.

Mahra ignored him and took off; gliding across to the house she landed and peered into the upper window.

The Customs man was sitting upright in his bed; his glasses propped on his nose and a huge pile of papers in front of him. He was working in fits and starts. Waking from sleep he would push his glasses back up his nose, take a few pages, enter some figures in the ledger then sleep would reclaim him, his head would slump and papers would fall.

Pardigan was watching from the bottom of the bed, waiting for his moment to take the keys he could see on the bedside cabinet. He was invisible but could see Mahra peering through the window and became visible for a moment as his concentration dropped and she jumped back in a flurry of feathers. Fortunately for Pardigan, the sleeper continued to sleep and missed what would have been a scary moment for all three of them.

The Customs man awoke once more and scrabbled about, spilling some papers onto the floor in the process. Pardigan decided to sit down with his back to the base of the bed and wait for a better moment to make his move.

The decision came when the hard wooden floor had finally made his legs feel numb. He stood and peered over the bottom of the bed. The Customs man was asleep again with his head flopped to one side and a thin line of dribble falling from his mouth. Pardigan smiled and whispered, ‘Hide.’ He flickered invisible and crept around to the bedside cabinet. Making sure not to step on the fallen papers, he gently picked up the large bunch of keys and with a last glance at the sleeping form he crept carefully out of the room.

He only became visible again when he was standing in front of his friends, making Quint fall back and all three of them jump in surprise.

Pardigan held out the keys, a grin on his face. ‘Let’s go find the Hidden.’

Grabbing the keys, Quint slapped Pardigan’s arm. ‘Nice job, but don’t go sneaking up on us like that, eh. I almost wet myself.’ He walked to the gate and peered around. Seeing that Mahra was perched on the house keeping watch, he tried several keys in the lock, found one that fit, turned it and the lock sprang open easily. He waved them over and they silently slipped through to the other side. Pardigan stayed and beckoned for the key.

Quint held it out. ‘Silly question maybe, but how do you plan to get over?’

‘Don’t worry,’ whispered Pardigan, ‘I’ve got that covered.’ He re-looped the chain, clicked the lock back into position, and then blinked back to invisibility. 

Returning to the house he made his way back to the bedroom and was glad to see its occupant still fast asleep. He replaced the keys on the bedside table and, feeling rather smug, made for the door. Unfortunately, the perfect burglary came to an end as his foot disturbed the fallen papers and the sleeper awoke with a start. Pardigan froze less than an arm's length away, the sound of his heartbeat loud in his ears.

‘Who’s there?’ called the Customs man in a frightened voice. He sat up and felt around for his glasses.

Pardigan stopped breathing and didn’t move a muscle.

‘Is somebody there?’ Swinging his legs out of the bed, the opposite side to where Pardigan was standing, he walked to the door. ‘Hello?’ he gingerly peeked into the hallway before venturing further out.

Pardigan let out his breath and lifted his foot from the papers. The constant effort of holding the invisibility spell, and the tension of the ordeal, was beginning to tire him. He was feeling faint and was sweating freely. I've got to get out of here soon or I’m going to blow this, he thought. He took a couple of deep breaths. Hold steady now...get a grip, not long and we’re out. The self-encouragement helped and he started to regain control. Noises were drifting up from below and he decided to take his chance on the stairs. They creaked a little in several places but he made it to the bottom without being discovered.

The Customs man was in the kitchen making himself a sandwich, talking to the cat as it brushed up against his leg, purring for a saucer of milk. Pardigan slipped past into the pantry without a problem.

Once out of the window he slumped down, becoming visible then wiped his face on his cloak and finally allowed himself to relax.

‘Are you okay?’ whispered Mahra. She was standing over him in her human form, c
almly scanning for observers.

‘I think so, or I will be as soon as we get to the other side of that gate. I have to be somewhere high to shift across. I need to see where I’m going.’

Mahra helped him to his feet and they walked around to the side of the building. It felt good to be outside even if it wasn’t much cooler than inside the house. She helped him climb to the top of an outbuilding, which was an easier and less noisy climb than the roof of the house. Once on top, Pardigan could see his friends standing in the moonlight watching anxiously for his arrival. With the last of his energy, he place-shifted, appearing so fast in front of Quint that his friend once again found himself sitting on the ground staring up at him with a shocked expression. Mahra landed softly beside them, changing once more from an owl to a smiling girl. She stared down at Quint.