Niamh didn’t want to tell another lie, and so, as she believed silence didn’t count as lying, she kept her mouth clamped firmly shut while returning the king’s stare. An unreasonable anger started to froth inside her like lava in a volcano as she looked around at the others. It was clear to her they all knew she and Grady had point-blank lied to them, so why didn’t they come out and say so! Honestly! She would never understand adults.
‘Then let’s put that guess down to luck,’ said Brighid, standing back and ruffling her feathers in what Niamh took to be an irritated fashion.
Niamh couldn’t hold back. ‘Well if you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask Quinn. He’s standing outside that door!’ she half shouted while pointing at the entrance to the throne room.
Murdock didn’t hesitate. He gestured to the two guards flanking the main doors of the throne room. The guards immediately swung them inward causing Quinn, Hugh and Bree to tumble in a heap at the guards’ feet. It was clear their ears had been pressed to the door, listening to every word. They lay there looking up sheepishly at the none too happy faces glaring back.
‘And WHAT do you think you three are up to!’ yelled the king, snatching his glasses from his face.
The children dragged themselves up off the floor and dusted themselves down. The guards swung the door shut and marched them over to the throne. Quinn stepped forward. Like Grady he too had grown much in recent months – especially in his willingness to stand up for himself now that everyone knew how powerful a wizard he actually was. The events in the Vault of the Treasures had sealed his fate as a wizard who would be watched.
‘We only wanted to know what the plans were for Morrigan’s Lake, Your Majesty,’ said Quinn with a forthright tone – not arrogant, but confident.
‘And what on earth makes you think we would want to let you know,’ said the king. ‘Did you think you were going to be on the list of those heading south?’
‘No,’ replied Quinn a little petulantly. ‘But there was always a hope,’ he added a little more quietly.
‘Quinn,’ said Grace gently. ‘You know we have official duties to sort out down there and there is plenty for you to do at the library here. Gilly … I mean Balthasar has a trail of hidden books which you seem to be the only one capable of finding. Have you considered we might need you here?’
‘I’ve been working on those books for months now. Can’t I have a break from that for a while? So many members of the court are going I’m probably going to be wandering round an empty castle.’
The queen grinned. ‘Stop it, you two,’ she said laughing. ‘Don’t be so mean to the poor child.’
The king tried to maintain his glare but gave up and broke into a smirk. Grady saw the mirror image of his father in that look. ‘Yes, alright. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so mean.’
Quinn looked at the king as realisation dawned on his face. ‘You mean I am coming with you?’
‘You all are,’ said Merritt. ‘For a start, there is little we could do to stop you if you wanted to come, and the castle at Morrigan’s Lake has so many rooms in it we need some people to help fill it up a little.’
‘Are we coming too?’ yelled Bree and Hugh.
‘Of course! We couldn’t take one of you without the others tagging along. I can’t begin to imagine what these two might get up to without someone to keep them out of trouble,’ said the queen, gesturing at Niamh and Grady.
‘But right now I want you to leave the room. Quickly,’ said Murdock, with a hint of menace in his voice. ‘We still have things to discuss here.’
The children knew that tone and made their goodbyes as they practically fell over each other in their haste to exit the room. ‘Catch up later,’ said Bree loudly as she backed out. Niamh and Grady waved before the door slammed shut. They smiled at each other but then turned back to the wall of impassive faces of the adults.
‘So,’ said Murdock, stepping in front of them with folded arms. ‘That was just good hearing, I suppose?’
‘Of course,’ said Niamh, ‘but …’
‘But what?’ said Merritt. ‘Are you sure there isn’t something you want to tell us?’
Niamh stared back at her father, long enough to utter a quiet ‘No’ before turning her face to the windows. As she did so she let her hand brush Grady’s arm again. ‘Did you hear the voices tell you they were out there?’
‘Yes. But why did you have to give it away!’
‘I know, Grady, I know. Sorry! I was angry.’
‘Next time keep it to yourself.’
‘I will. I just wish the laughing would stop.’
Niamh let go of Grady’s arm but the mocking laugh she heard at the back of her mind stayed briefly with her before echoing away. They both knew to whom the voices belonged. They were the voices of the Twins – Azrael’s Twins.
‘Very well,’ said the king to no one in particular. ‘Now, you two,’ he said, gesturing at the children. ‘Take a seat. Murdock, will you run through the plans for the trip? I doubt we can hold young Grady’s attention for too much longer so best work with him while we can, don’t you think?’ The king ruffled Grady’s hair as he turned back to his throne. Grady hated the ruffling. His hair seemed to be a magnet for random rufflers. One of these days he was going to shave the curls off completely.
‘Of course,’ said Murdock, rising from his seat. The children noticed how he had started dressing more like Merritt these days with distinctly non-elflike clothes. Jeans had replaced the elvish pants and his cloak had been replaced by what looked suspiciously like a designer shirt. But underneath it all he still moved with the catlike grace they had come to associate with all the elves they had seen in Avalon.
‘The trip down will be on Wednesday morning. It’s about five hours as the dragon flies so we will have plenty of time to admire the scenery on the way, which will be spectacular as we move through the mountains.
‘Excuse me,’ said Grady, raising his hand as if he were still in school. ‘But why can’t we use time-folding to make the trip shorter?’
‘Time-folding?’ snorted Garrett, who had been sitting but listening intently. ‘Do you have any idea how difficult it is to fold time the way we do?’
‘No,’ said Grady levelly. ‘I can’t do it, so how could I know?’
Grace covered her mouth and turned her face away. She never ceased to find Grady’s complete lack of tact in answering some questions amusing. Especially when it left people speechless as it had just done to Garrett.
‘Well … yes …’ said Garrett, trying to recover his composure after being thrown off his stride. ‘Well, trust me when I say it’s tricky and it takes an awful lot of energy to produce the ripples in space you need for time-folding. There is no one in the kingdom, no one in Avalon, and as far as we know, no one who could ever fold time long enough to allow a trip like that to be made – especially when it involves moving as many people as will be travelling to the lake.’
‘How many of us will be going?’ asked Niamh.
‘Not counting all the members of court? Well for a start, all of us, plus the other children, their parents, Ms Pussywillow, and Ms Maladicta. Oh, and the rest of the spell casting team. But they will be heading down a little earlier. I couldn’t say how many in total.’
‘Ms Pussywillow and Ms Maladicta?’ said Niamh incredulously. ‘I thought this was a holiday?’
‘Oh it is,’ said Murdock. ‘But this trip is always used as a chance for the spell casting and broomstick biathlon teams to have an early season hit out. There are some open competitions down at the lake at this time of year. Anyone can enter. It’s usually a way of introducing the new team members to their team mates.’
‘Anyone can enter?’ said Niamh. ‘Then I can have a go too?’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ said Murdock. ‘Your talent is raw, and unlike the school competitions it can get a little rough.’
Niamh turned an angry scowl at her parents. ‘You think I’m too young for thi
s, don’t you?’
‘Age is no guarantee of skill, Niamh,’ said Brighid. ‘Be happy that you have good skills for someone your age. Unnaturally good skills, some would say.’
‘But I still haven’t been able to catch Grady. Not once this whole year.’
‘Niamh,’ said Brighid kindly. ‘Have you noticed your brother is also a little better than most on a broomstick?’
‘Only “a little”?’ said Grady. ‘I’m a bit more than “a little”, thanks!’
‘And a lot less than modest,’ said Brighid. ‘Sometimes it is better to accept a compliment than criticise its quality,’ she said sharply.
Grady mumbled a reply while taking great interest in his shoes.
‘Murdock,’ Brighid said, switching her gaze to the elf. ‘Would you like to show these two one of those little episodes you showed us?’
‘With pleasure,’ said the elf, drawing his wand and waving it towards the wall. A shower of bright sparks flew from the tip and formed a round disc in the air. Faint shapes slowly resolved into images of startling clarity, showing Niamh and Grady engaged in one of their chases through the forest. Their pursuit looked dramatic from the air as they ducked and weaved around trees, under low hanging branches, turning with insane speed past boulders and rock faces.
‘How did you get those pictures?’ said Grady, after he had recovered from his astonishment, mouth hanging open.
‘You would be surprised where eyes lurk in the forest,’ said Brighid mysteriously. ‘When you are totally alone you will know it, but ask yourself – have you ever felt truly alone here?’
Niamh and Grady exchanged a glance. They both had the same thought. They were never truly alone. And certainly not now.
Brighid saw the look in their eyes. ‘So. Your skills have been noticed. But now is not the time to be part of the spell casting team.’
‘And what do I get to do?’ said Grady icily. ‘There’s no dragon racing is there?’
Murdock shook his head.
‘I suppose riding Iris around isn’t fun enough for you,’ said Niamh.
‘I’m not taking Iris,’ Grady fumed. ‘There are no races for us, and she won’t come unless there’s a good reason.’
‘Who’s tae say the wee pigeon doesnae have a good reason for coming?’ said McHavering with a twinkle in his eye.
‘Why would she?’ asked Grady, calming down a fraction. ‘I can’t make her do anything so why would she come?’
‘Wouldn’t you want to take a chance to visit home, Grady?’ said Roland, stepping up beside the big Scotsman.
‘Home!’ exclaimed both the children together.
‘Aye. It’s where Ruffleneck here found Iris – injured and in trouble t’be sure. Well, it would have tae be in a sorry state for Ruffleneck tae be able tae capture it,’ said McHavering, giving Roland a hearty slap on the back and making the stick-thin dragon master stumble forward.
‘It’s Ruffelbane, for the millionth time, you ignoramus,’ said Roland as he recovered. ‘But yes, he’s absolutely right. I found Iris on the slopes near the castle in quite a state. It cost me a set of eyebrows and a patch or two of hair, but I knew that if that was the only damage a mountain viper was able to do to me, then it must have been in trouble. Once I had her bound, and remember she was only a wee thing at that time, then it was easy to get her back here.’
‘What had happened to her?’ said Niamh with genuine curiosity. It occurred to her they had never heard how Roland found Iris.
‘Well that’s part of the mystery of Iris,’ said Roland, sitting down and leaning forward, bony elbows on his knees. ‘The poor creature was defenceless when I found her. She looked as though she had been burnt by dragon fire. But the amount of heat that would require, to burn a dragon, would be enormous. It’s rare for a breed to turn on its own, and there isn’t another breed that could do that sort of damage to a viper.’
‘Could it have been a wizard or witch?’ asked Grady.
‘Well, there is always that possibility,’ Roland said, sitting back and folding his arms. ‘But who would attack a young dragon like that? It’s dangerous to get close to the young with other vipers around. Actually, it’s dangerous to get near the vipers full stop as they are famously protective of their young. So that means she was either attacked by a wizard or witch with a death wish, or one who was particularly evil, or she was turned on by her own glory.’
‘Glory? What’s a glory?’ said Niamh, cocking her head to one side.
‘A glory is what you call a family of dragons, like you might have a pod of whales or a flock of geese. A collection of dragons is called a glory – a glory of dragons.’
‘Why do they call them a glory?’ said Grady, proving he had a never-ending supply of questions.
‘You’ve never seen dragons in their natural environment, have you?’
Grady shook his head. ‘We’ve only seen the dragons in town. And the racing dragons of course.’
‘Well you must remember that the dragons you see around town and in the stables are the domestic breeds. There are still many more out in the mountains and in the wild that live much like they always have. Untamed beasts they are too,’ said Roland. ‘And if you are lucky you will see some as we get close to the mountains on the way to Morrigan’s Lake. Once you see them in flight you won’t wonder about the name again.’
Niamh and Grady shared a smile. The description – a glory of dragons – raised all sorts of amazing images in their minds.
‘I must say, Merritt, that these two have a remarkable talent for deflecting attention from where it should be.’
‘You’re not wrong,’ said Merritt, rolling his eyes.
‘Shall we return to the real reason we gathered here?’ said Murdock.
‘I think that would be a good idea,’ said the king, stomping back up to his throne. ‘I’m not getting any younger and the way this audience is going we’ll still be here at dinner time. I’m starving as it is and could do with a nice cuppa.’
A flash of light beside the king marked the disappearance of a castle faerie. A moment later the same faerie, or a faerie that looked just like it (Grady was still struggling to tell them apart) flashed back into view alongside the king, with a number of its compatriots in tow. Popping noises sounded all around the throne room as tea, tables and still warm scones with jam and cream appeared. Grady grinned as he eyed up the closest scone still dripping with butter. There were occasions when shutting up was a clever move, and warm scones with jam and cream ranked pretty close to the top of his list of shutting-up moments.
‘Excellent,’ said the king. ‘Now,’ he said through a mouthful of scone, ‘can we get on with it?’
Grace sat back with a cup of tea in hand and winked at Niamh. The king could be as grumpy as he liked but Niamh never ceased to be amazed at the soothing effect of a brew.
‘Of course,’ said the elf, bowing. ‘All we have to work through is the arrival in the township of Morrigan’s Lake, the welcoming parade, the protocols with the local mayor, the first night reception, the …’ The elf continued to reel off a list of their expected duties that seemed to carry on for ever!
Grady glanced at his sister. Her eyes had also started to glaze over at the litany of events they were expected to remember. He touched her arm gently while staying focused on Murdock. ‘I thought this was meant be fun!’ he said silently through the connection.
‘I don’t think fun comes into this part of the royalty thing,’ Niamh replied. ‘Let’s get through this as quick as we can and make it look like we’re listening!’
Grady dropped the connection. Niamh sat up primly in her chair and, after giving Grady a wry smile, turned her attention fully to Murdock. Better make this look good, she thought to herself. The elf’s words continued to wash over her as a distant mad cackle faded away inside her head.
Chapter 3
Fingal and the Book
Niamh and Grady ran down the hallway after being released. They burst into Niamh�
��s room and slammed the door behind them. There was only one question on their minds, and it wasn’t about the apparently endless lessons Murdock had delivered.
‘What the hell was that laughing?’ said Grady as he slumped down into a chair.
Niamh stood at the window staring out across the grounds of the castle towards the forest. She too was spooked by the madness she heard inside her own mind.
‘It was the Twins, Grady. I think they are inside our heads now!’
‘But they can’t be!’ said Grady. ‘I mean, it’s been ages since the vault and we’ve heard nothing from them since they … since they … since whatever happened to us that night actually happened. Why now?’
‘It’s alright for you, Grady. There’s plenty of space inside that melon of yours, so it’s not like your Twin would be squeezed for space,’ said Niamh, though her heart didn’t seem to be in the insult this time.
‘Oh thanks!’ said Grady, throwing a cushion at Niamh. The cushion sailed through the air towards her but Niamh, without looking, simply waved a hand at it. The cushion changed direction in midair as if it had bounced off an invisible barrier. Niamh stared at her fingers as if seeing them for the first time.
‘How did you do that?’ said Grady quietly.
‘I don’t know,’ said Niamh, with a hint of fear in her voice. ‘What’s happening to me?’ she said gently as she picked up the pillow from the floor. She turned it over and over as if expecting to find some hidden mechanism that would explain what had happened. But it was plainly just a cushion. She tossed it at Grady who instinctively threw his hands up in front of his face. But again, the cushion never made contact and bounced away to a corner of the room where it lay still. Both children went quiet and stared at it lying innocently on the floor.
‘We need to talk to someone,’ whispered Niamh.
‘Who?’ asked Grady. ‘We can’t trust the adults, so who does that leave?’
‘Quinn,’ said Niamh.
‘Quinn? What can he do to help?’
Azrael's Twins and the Circle of Stone Page 3
