by Andrew Symon
“Who is it? What do you want?”
“It’s Jack and Petros. Can we come in?”
There was a pause while Murkle appeared to weigh up this request. Then the door was pulled open, and Murkle ushered the youngsters into the front room. Daid sat on one of the chairs. He looked like he hadn’t shaved for several days, his hair was unbrushed and his clothes seemed to hang off him.
“Sit down.” Murkle’s voice was flat.
Jack looked unsurely at Petros as they sat down.
“We … we wanted to ask you about how the Kildashie controlled the Blue Hag’s echo. Someone said they had a silencer charm.”
“The Tassitus?” snorted Murkle. “Impossible. It’s not been heard of for centuries.”
“But I was there when they did it,” persisted Jack.
“Nonsense. A trick of the wind.”
Jack looked awkwardly at Petros. This wasn’t going very well.
“We also wondered about the giant who … who lived in the cave of the wells,” stammered Jack.
Murkle’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. This was a first for him. His countenance brightened, and he moved swiftly to take his own chair. With barely a pause, he launched into the story, which Jack and Petros knew only too well. In desperation, Jack looked across at his cousin, but Petros appeared frozen to the spot. He stared blankly at some indeterminate point on the far wall.
“The Nebula giant has been asleep for countless centuries. He must be woken gently, and with a quartz stone with a double crescent moon …”
No respite. The minutes ticked by.
“And some giants can swim huge distances …”
The voice droned on and on.
“Even stone structures in some giants’ caves can be made to waken by the simple hex ‘Disuscito’ – when the moon’s full, of course …”
No respite.
After a few minutes, Jack realised he would have to take the initiative.
“Excuse me, Murkle, but could I go and get a drink, please? Daid can show me where things are.”
Murkle frowned: he was not used to being interrupted. With a scowl, he waved Jack away and continued his recitation.
Jack stood up and went over to where Daid was sitting. Daid looked at him distractedly.
“Can you show me where the cups are, please?” Jack tried to keep his voice steady.
Daid appeared flustered, but he stood up and followed Jack to the kitchen. Walking across the dingy room, he indicated a cupboard. Jack screwed up his nose at the dank smell, but determined to pursue his goal.
“I wanted …” His voice faltered. “To ask you … about the papers Fenrig stole.”
“You know, don’t you?” Daid looked haunted as he spoke. “I don’t know if it’s the Stone, or the Kildashie. Oh, it’s all terrible.” He paced up and down, pausing only to grip the back of a chair. His fingernails dug deep into the wood, leaving scratch marks. “I should have taken them to the Congress, I know. But I’m not sure … some of them seem to want the Kildashie here.”
“I don’t know what …” began Jack, but then stopped. “When you said it might be the Stone or the Kildashie, what did you mean?”
Daid looked sadly at him. “Ever since Oestre, I’ve been unsure. I touched the Stone. The first Shian in hundreds of years. But I don’t know if it happened because of Oestre or because the Kildashie did something. They’re dangerous. The manuscripts may be lethal in the wrong hands, and the Congress is divided.”
“Daid, d’you mean you’ve got the papers?” said Jack calmly.
Daid looked over at Jack and nodded sadly.
“I found them a few days after I’d touched the Stone. They were in a drawer I know I’d searched before. I don’t know how I missed them.”
Daid pulled a sheaf of tattered old parchments from inside his cardigan and placed them on the table. Jack immediately examined them. The writing on the fragile parchments was old-fashioned and very faint.
“Fenrig stole them, like you said, and he gave them to his father. But he stole them back again and left them here by mistake. Not a very bright boy.” Daid’s voice was flat.
“Do they say where the Sphere is?” asked Jack softly.
Daid shook his head.
“Do they talk of a saint’s cave, or a bridge?” Jack persisted.
Daid’s face momentarily lit up. “You know of the cave?” His eyes were eager, sparkling.
Jack paused. “We … we were told that the Sphere might be found where the cave is. Or at least that we must find the cave first.”
Daid slumped into a chair. “The papers talk of a cave, but it’s confusing. There’s an ancient prophecy in the manuscripts, when children will cross a bridge from the cave and rescue a dead man.”
Jack looked quizzically at Daid. He sensed that there was something else.
“What more do the papers say?” he urged.
Daid was silent. He hung his head; then, taking a deep breath, he looked Jack in the eye.
“They give the dead man a name.”
There was an expectant pause, while Jack waited for Daid to continue.
The silence continued.
“And?” demanded Jack, his patience breaking.
“His name … is Phineas.”
9
Secrecy and Trust
Jack’s astonishment was interrupted immediately by the appearance of Murkle.
“What’s going on? Why are you taking so long?” he demanded.
Daid sat slumped in his chair. Jack, suddenly giddy, had to grab another chair to stop himself from falling. Murkle looked quizzically from one to the other, while Petros peered in uncertainly from the doorway.
Then Murkle spotted the sheaf of papers on the table, and he stepped forward to examine them. Instinctively, Jack tried to grab them, but Murkle’s hand was swifter.
“I’ll take these.” His voice was authoritative. “I think it’s time we had a chat with Petros’ father about this.” He scooped up the manuscripts and, with a stern look at Daid, marched out of the kitchen.
“Why didn’t you keep him in the front room?” hissed Jack as he moved to follow.
“I tried. You were taking too long,” retorted Petros unapologetically.
Murkle had already left the house, and he turned and waved the youngsters on impatiently. With a sense of foreboding, Jack and Petros followed their tutor.
Uncle Doonya was standing in the doorway as the three of them approached the house. Murkle strode up and barked, “I want to know why you can’t keep these impertinent young boys in line.”
“Would you like to come in, Murkle? I think we can discuss this where the rest of the square cannot hear us.” Uncle Doonya’s voice was calm.
To Jack’s surprise, Rana and Lizzie were already in the front room when they entered.
“These young boys came to my house under the false pretext of finding out about Shian folklore,” began Murkle. “By some means, this one –” he indicated Jack “– tricked Daid into showing him these manuscripts.”
“I didn’t trick him, he just showed me them.” Jack’s tone was plaintive, but Uncle Doonya just held up his hand.
“I want to know why you allow these rascals to behave in such an underhand manner,’ said Murkle. ‘I showed them my hospitality, and they abused it.”
“What hospitality?” demanded Petros. “You let us in, that’s all. Jack had to ask for a drink.”
“Shouting will get us nowhere.” Uncle Doonya’s voice was calm. “If the boys have upset your sense of hospitality, then I’m certain they will apologise.” He looked commandingly at Petros, then at Jack. “But I am sure that the Congress would be interested to know that you have these manuscripts. As you know, they were presumed missing.”
Murkle looked uncertain for the first time. Then a look of steel came into his eyes.
“The Congress appears not to know which way to turn,” he said icily. “These papers need to be deciphered properly, not shared with anyone who a
sks to see them.”
“Be that as it may, Petros and Jack have done nothing wrong. If Daid was foolish enough to show Jack the papers, that is your responsibility. Daid is under your care, after all.”
With a snort, Murkle stood up and marched out.
Uncle Doonya moved to the doorway and called Aunt Katie from the kitchen. Whispering to her, he left. Aunt Katie came in and closed the door behind her.
“You’re all to stay here while your father has a word with Murkle.” Then, seeing Jack’s raised eyebrow, she added half-apologetically, “Oh, you know who I mean, Jack.”
“Why d’you tell Dad where we’d gone?” Petros turned on Rana.
“That’s enough!” snapped Aunt Katie. “Your father will be back soon.”
Uncle Doonya returned just a couple of minutes later. He stood in the doorway, and for a few moments there was an awkward silence.
“You boys have got off very lightly,” he said sternly. “Murkle’s heart is in the right place, but he is a dangerous Shian to cross.”
Uncle Doonya sat down now, and his tone was gentler.
“We’re all upset because Grandpa’s ill, but that’s all the more reason to keep our heads.”
“We already know some things,” stated Jack. “What Tamlina told us, about the cave and the bridge. We were going to ask Daid for his help in finding out more.”
“We wanted to know about the Sphere, Dad.” Petros spoke up. “And about what happened to Grandpa, so maybe we could help.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help Grandpa. But it’s hard to know who we can trust. Many of the Kildashie are wild, and although it pains me to say this, some of the Congress may not be relied upon.”
“Is Murkle reliable, then?” asked Jack. His tone was just below impertinent, and for a moment Uncle Doonya looked angry. Then he smiled.
“Murkle’s always been a bit fierce, even when I was an apprentice. But I’ve persuaded him to let me see the manuscripts. Now that he knows I know about them, it would be hard for him to say no. However, we must be careful about who else knows this – so it goes no further, all right?”
All of the youngsters indicated assent.
“It seems the manuscripts are a mixture. Murkle thought he could work out the Shian bits and Daid would take the human parts.”
“Daid talked about a prophecy,” said Jack uncertainly. “He said children would rescue a dead man called Phineas.”
Aunt Katie let out a gasp, before recovering.
“Prophecies aren’t always what they seem,” she announced. “People find in them what they want. My father taught me that. And if it’s Daid who’s deciphering them, then they probably refer to humans.”
Uncle Doonya looked down at the youngsters. “We need to get the right Shian in to examine these papers. That will give us the best chance.”
“Why don’t we ask Cosmo?” suggested Jack. “He knew a lot about the King’s Chalice.”
“And what about the ghosts?” asked Lizzie. “Comgall and his monks?”
“We called on them because they made the Chalice,” pointed out Jack. “Why would they know about the Sphere?”
“Asking Cosmo might be what we need,” said Uncle Doonya. “He certainly knew more than we realised.”
“And he deliberately didn’t tell the Congress,” said Petros. Seeing his father’s grim look, Petros persevered. “It’s true, Dad. When the Congress summoned him in, he didn’t tell them because he didn’t trust all of them. And he was right: Rowan was a traitor.”
Uncle Doonya sat down and cupped his face with his hands. When he spoke, he sounded weary.
“You’re right. It’s hard to accept that the Congress couldn’t – can’t – be trusted. The way some of them are willing to let the Kildashie stay is worrying. We’ll have to do what we can without them for now.” He turned to Jack. “Jack, you got on with Cosmo: can you ask him to come and see us, and we’ll try to decipher the manuscripts?”
Jack nodded.
“Purdy knows some of the Cos-Howe boys,” piped up Rana. “We can ask her to speak to them.”
“It would be better coming from Jack. Petros can go along too.” Uncle Doonya’s voice had regained its authority. “The low road can take you straight there. Anyone can use it now; no time like the present.”
Jack looked across at Petros, who just stared back.
“When will Murkle let us have the papers?”
“Just find out when Cosmo can come here, and I’ll deal with Murkle,” replied Uncle Doonya. “I doubt he’ll allow the manuscripts to leave the square.”
Jack stood up and moved through to the front door. Petros remained in his chair for a few moments, then rose slowly and followed.
“You don’t have to come,” said Jack. “I can go and ask Cosmo myself.”
Petros threw him a scornful look. “Dad said I’ve got to go with you.”
“Suit yourself.” Jack made his way down to the mound of earth behind the last house at the foot of the square. Petros followed on, dragging his steps a little. When he arrived at the mound he gripped Jack’s arm and blurted out, “Wind-flock Cos-Howe.”
It was an hour before Jack and Petros returned. As they entered the house, Rana’s face emerged from the front room.
“’D’you find him?” she asked breathlessly. Behind her, Lizzie and Aunt Katie looked anxiously on. Uncle Doonya wasn’t present.
Petros pushed past Rana and sat down. Jack stood in the doorway.
“Sure, we found Cosmo,” said Petros casually. “He said he’d be over later.”
“Did you say why we wanted him?” asked Aunt Katie anxiously.
“Well, we had to,” said Petros. “Otherwise why would he come?”
“Is he coming, then?” Uncle Doonya had reappeared, and his voice betrayed his fear that the quest had been fruitless.
“It’s OK,” said Jack. “I told him we had the manuscripts, and he could hardly wait. He said Oobit and Gandie had to come too. He wasn’t sure if he’d be welcome here.”
“Why ever not?” asked Aunt Katie innocently. “We all thought what he did at Dunvik was marvellous.”
“He thinks Atholmor didn’t like him taking control. He’s not convinced that his followers would take kindly to him coming here.”
Aunt Katie looked blank. “We don’t follow Atholmor,” she said simply. “He convenes the Congress, that’s all.”
“Whatever, Mum,” said Petros wearily. “He just wasn’t sure that coming here on his own was a good idea.”
“The Congress represents all Shian in this part of the country,” said Uncle Doonya emphatically. “If Cosmo can help to decipher these papers then he must help. I’ll go and speak to Murkle.”
Uncle Doonya returned fifteen minutes later with both Murkle and Daid. While Murkle looked stern, Daid was obviously anxious, and he wrung his hands together. As he entered, Uncle Doonya gave a “What could I do?” look to Aunt Katie. Taking his cue, Aunt Katie stood up and announced that she would prepare some refreshments for later.
“Rana, Lizzie, you come and give me a hand. Boys, you come through as well. I’ve got some errands for you to run.”
“What d’you mean?” asked Petros indignantly. “We want to stay and read the papers with the others.”
“Whippersnappers,” muttered Murkle.
Jack stood up briskly. “Come on, Petros; we’ll help the others out.”
Petros looked blank for a moment. “Oh, all right. I mean, yes, of course.”
“Come on,” said Jack as Petros emerged from the front room. “They just want us out of the way. But I’ve got an idea.”
As they reached the top of the stairs, Jack turned left to go into the girls’ bedroom. Petros looked downstairs cautiously.
“What’re you doing?” he demanded. “Rana’ll go spare if she finds you in there. You know what she’s like.”
“Yes, I know,” said Jack simply. “She’s an eavesdropping telltale who wants to know everything that
’s going on but can’t keep a secret.”
“Fair enough,” muttered Petros as he followed Jack cautiously into his sisters’ room. “What’re you looking for?”
“This,” said Jack proudly, as he held up the beetler bonnet given to Rana and Lizzie the previous autumn.
“The beetler!” said Petros breathlessly. “Oh, wait a minute, I’m not putting that on again. I nearly got killed wearing that; it gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll wear it,” said Jack patiently. “As soon as Cosmo and the others get here, they’ll start with the manuscripts, right? I’ll go into the front room and listen in.”
“So what d’you want me to do?” said Petros.
“Just keep the others out of the way. I don’t want people tramping in and out of the room; they might step on me. Just make sure they all stay in the kitchen, or out of the house altogether. OK?”
“All right. I’ll say you’ve gone up to see Lee-Brog or someone. That way Mum won’t be looking for you.”
The Cos-Howe “crew”, as Jack thought of them, arrived a couple of hours later. Uncle Doonya, Murkle and Daid were in the front room poring over the manuscripts, which they had spread over the floor. Civilities were exchanged and the business in hand explained. Having brought in the refreshments, Aunt Katie, Rana, Lizzie and Petros withdrew to the kitchen, and the work in the front room began in earnest.
Jack crept down the stairs and noted that the kitchen door was shut. In his hand he clutched the silk cap made by Freya. It was so fine he could hardly feel the cloth at all. Inwardly, he marvelled at her tailoring skills. Oh well, he thought, here we go. Checking again that all the doors off the hallway were closed, he put the cap on his head. Immediately, Jack shrank to the size of a beetle.
10
The Beetler Cap
Whoaah! Weird!
Jack was well used to the growing and shrinking as he went in and out of the Shian gate to the human spaces, and to the “squeezing up” as they were made to shrink to fit into Murkle’s front room for lessons, but this was something else altogether. Jack had never felt so tiny, so vulnerable, in his life.
