Azrael's Twins and the Circle of Stone

by Vincent Mortimer

  ‘I’m fine, thank you. Let’s finish this,’ she said pointedly in Hegeline’s direction.

  The crowd cheered as Niamh and Cory took up position at the end of their ranges again. Vanderbilt’s voice rang out loud and clear over the cheering. ‘Begin when you are ready, shooters!’

  Niamh took up her stance again and tried to clear her head. Anger slipped away as a calm resolve settled over her. Her wand hand whipped around twice more before Niamh barely had time to blink. She didn’t even recall looking at the target as she fired but the cheers of the crowd brought her back to reality. She looked up at the scoreboard to see perfect tens registered against her name for both shots. She smiled to herself and turned to see the scowl on Hegeline Baskerville’s face. The scoreboard showed that, despite the attempt to put off the other shooters, Hegeline had managed to miss the bullseye with her second shot and was tied with Niamh for the lead.

  ‘Spell casters! Exchange lanes with the competitor immediately to your right,’ said Vanderbilt, obviously enjoying the current score line.

  The girls swapped lanes and lined up their targets again. This time there were no comments at all between them, though Cory did give Niamh a wink. Despite Niamh’s healing, Cory had still only managed to score a nine and an eight on her last two shots. Her wink was as much a recognition that she was out of the running as it was a friendly gesture.

  ‘Cast your spells at will,’ bellowed Vanderbilt again. Niamh wondered if he ever spoke quietly as she focused again on the distant targets.

  Merritt and Grace watched intensely from the stands. ‘She’s gone all … focused,’ whispered Grace.

  Merritt nodded. ‘What do we do if she wins?’

  ‘I seriously doubt that will happen,’ said Grace, glancing up at the hill overlooking the range.

  Niamh’s hand became a blur as her three spells rocketed down the range. She appeared to have completely forgotten her training. Rather than taking a moment between spells she simply rocked back and forth from heel to toe. Her target flew backwards on its stand as the first spell slammed directly into the centre. The second spell lifted the target into the air while the third drove it into the back netting of the protective ward. The crowd hesitated before bursting into applause. Three bull’s-eyes registered beside Niamh’s name.

  Hegeline stood fuming in the lane next to Niamh. ‘Finished showing off, have you?’ She held her wand as if ready to do battle.

  Niamh glanced down at the poised wand before giving Hegeline the steeliest glare she could. ‘You saw what I did to the target. Do you really feel lucky today?’

  ‘Everything all right here?’ said Vanderbilt, placing his considerable girth in the way of the two girls.

  Hegeline continued to fume but recovered and hid it behind a sweet smile. ‘Everything’s fine. I was just congratulating Niamh on her shooting skills.’

  ‘Is that so?’ said Vanderbilt, looking completely unconvinced. ‘Well, If I were you I would take your last two shots. Young Miss Carraig over here has completed her round so we’re waiting for you.’

  Niamh and Hegeline turned to the scoreboard. Only one bull’s-eye was registered against Cory’s name. Niamh glanced at her. The sandy-haired girl shrugged her shoulders. She knew it was not her day.

  Hegeline smiled to herself and, sneering at Niamh, turned back to her target. She steadied herself and let fly with her last two firebolts – both of them striking dead centre. The crowd cheered as both girls entered the final round tied for the lead.

  High up on the hills a figure stood by a craggy outcrop. It glanced up at the sky. Not a cloud broke the sunlight streaming down on the town. At this distance the target range looked a tiny and insubstantial thing, though the protective ward hovering over it made it easy to find. The figure peered at the three girls at the far end and smiled.

  ‘Final round now, Witches and Wizards, Warlocks and Apprentices. Are we all enjoying ourselves?’ Vanderbilt seemed to enjoy playing to the crowd, who roared back their appreciation. ‘To your marks again please,’ he said, gesturing to the lines on the grass.

  Niamh stood with her back to Hegeline. A sense of certainty and calm flowed over her. She felt certain this was going to be her day.

  ‘Begin!’ roared Vanderbilt.

  Hegeline cast first, her spell picking out the bull’s-eye again. Niamh smiled to herself, fired her first spell, and was unsurprised to see another bull’s-eye register. She could feel the waves of anger flowing from Hegeline without looking. With a deep breath she calmed herself and let fly with another spell, knowing it was another bull’s-eye without looking.

  Niamh heard another volley of bolts fly from Hegeline and Cory’s wands but this time instead of the usual smattering of applause there was a gasp from the crowd. Niamh dropped her wand to her side and looked at the scoreboard. A nine showed beside Hegeline’s name. A nine! Niamh turned around and smiled. She knew this was her competition now. Cory had scored bull’s-eye’s with her first two shots but her third had drifted off target to score just eight. Niamh needed one more bull’s-eye to win! She turned back to the target, steadied herself, and whipped her wand arm round towards the target.

  High above her on the hillside the watching figure raised its hands towards the range. Its palms silvered into a bright reflective mirror as they came together. A powerfully bright flash of light burst from them, centred on the range. In seconds it was done. The creature smiled. Its work here was done. It stepped back into the shadows of the crag, and vanished.

  Niamh stood quietly staring at the target and the little puff of smoke halfway towards its edge, disbelief etched on her face. She had not just missed the bull’s-eye, she had barely scored a seven! She glared up at the hillside and the spot from where the flash of light had come, blinding her as she released her last shot. That flash had cost her the competition. A cheer erupted from the Flamville supporters as they ran towards Hegeline who smiled with grim satisfaction at Niamh.

  ‘Well done Niamh,’ said Cory, extending her hand. ‘I was rubbish compared to you and I’ve had a lot more practice.’

  Niamh stared at Cory’s hand before it giving a weak shake. ‘I can’t believe I missed,’ she said softly.

  Ms Maladicta and Ms Pussywillow swept up to Niamh – the principal doing a much better job of sweeping in her robe. ‘That was … unfortunate,’ she said, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. Niamh was unsure if she was about to be told off.

  ‘You were remarkable, Niamh,’ said Ms Pussywillow, taking her by the shoulders. ‘I know it hurts right now but you’ll be fine. Give it some time.’

  ‘What was that?’ said Niamh angrily.

  ‘What was what?’

  ‘That flash on the hillside.’

  ‘I didn’t see anything,’ said Ms Maladicta. ‘Are you sure you aren’t making excuses for missing?’

  Niamh flushed red with anger. ‘I know what I saw,’ she said, barging between the two teachers and heading towards her friends who were making their way across the ground to her.

  ‘Awesome Niamh!’ said Bree, running up and throwing her arm around her.

  ‘Not awesome enough,’ said Niamh intensely.

  ‘Still pretty good though,’ said Grady, with, Niamh noticed, genuine sincerity this time.

  ‘What happened?’ said Quinn, drawing up alongside Niamh.

  ‘Something flashed in my eyes from the hillside as I was about to fire on my last shot.’

  ‘Really. And that flash only managed to affect you, Niamh? Pretty remarkable don’t you think?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Niamh, getting angrier by the minute. ‘Don’t you believe me?’

  ‘Oh I believe you all right,’ said Quinn. ‘But don’t you find it strange a flash of light from the hillside happens to strike you directly in the eyes just as you are about to fire?’

  Niamh considered this. ‘Well … it’s not that amazing … is it?’

  ‘He has a point,’ said Bree. ‘How did it only manage to af
fect you and no one else?’

  ‘You mean it was deliberate?’ said Niamh, her anger now flooding away.

  ‘You’re clever Niamh. Work it out.’

  Van Helsing slunk over to Niamh. ‘And now it is time for prizes,’ he said smoothly. ‘You wouldn’t want to miss out on your second place trophy, would you?’ Niamh could hear the heavy emphasis on second but tried not to let it rile her.

  ‘Of course,’ she said as sweetly as she could.

  Grady was highly attuned to sarcasm after a lifetime of listening to his sister. Annoying or not, no one should be that nasty to Niamh. He quietly drew his wand and surreptitiously cast a spell at the vampire’s smoky black glasses which flew from the end of his nose. The effect was immediate. The vampire looked to the sky as if struck by lightning before dropping to the ground in a screaming heap. He squirmed and howled dramatically, causing every dog in the town to join in. The cacophony was deafening. The vampire writhed in the sunlight before crumbling into a pile of ash, his howl fading away on the wind.

  The children stared at the grey pile on the ground. A light breeze blew a few specks away but they spiralled around in the air and flew back to the mound.

  ‘Well, I wasn’t expecting that,’ said Bree, looking stunned.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Vanderbilt, huffing over to the children. ‘Someone forgot to keep their glasses on, didn’t they. I hate it when this happens. They are such a mess to clean up.’

  Niamh looked surprised. ‘Does this sort of thing happen often?’

  ‘Not as often as it used to.’ Vanderbilt put his fingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle. ‘UNDEAD CLEANUP CREW PLEASE,’ he shouted over the head of the crowd.

  ‘Coming through please,’ came a reedy voice. A team of vampires and zombies ran (or in the case of the zombies, lurched) to the pile of ash. They swept it up into a jar taking care to find all the errant specks.

  ‘Don’t worry Miss,’ said the vampire in charge of the clean-up. ‘We’ll have him back on his feet in no time.’

  ‘How?’ said Niamh, staring at the motes of dust that swirled around the inside of the jar.

  ‘We need to get him back to his castle and into his coffin and he will be fine. Might take him a day or two to get himself back together and he will have a rather large headache, but no one has splashed any holy water over him and the only stake around is the one he’ll probably have for dinner, so no worries.’ The vampire smiled up at Niamh as if this explanation was the most normal thing in the world.

  ‘What castle?’ said Grady.

  ‘Pardon?’ said the vampire.

  ‘Where is his castle? The only one I’ve seen around here is ours. I mean, it’s not exactly the easiest thing to hide?’

  ‘Well, I say “castle” but I really mean his apartment on the waterfront. Terribly expensive, the upkeep on castles these days, so he had his knocked down and developed it into the apartments.’

  Niamh and Grady looked at each other and shook their heads.

  ‘Done,’ said the zombie in a voice like the wind from a tomb.

  ‘Thanks!’ said Vanderbilt as the clean-up crew jogged and lurched away with the remains of the vampire.

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ said the incredibly chipper vampire, waving a hand over his head.

  The crowd started to form around the raised platform which had been set up for the presentations. Niamh was hustled away but Grady felt a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘I saw that, Grady O’Connell,’ said his father so quietly that only he and Grady could hear.

  ‘What?’ said Grady as innocently as he could.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Merritt. ‘He deserved it – but don’t tell your mother I said so.’ He winked at Grady and, putting his arm around his shoulder, steered him to the dais.

  Behind them Grace stood beside Murdock. ‘That was painful to watch,’ she said.

  ‘If she had won do you think she would listen to anyone’s advice? She had to lose. I never imagined she would get that close.’ Murdock sounded relieved.

  ‘Brighid really does think of everything,’ said Grace, absently.

  ‘We’re lucky she did. Come, they will want you side stage.’ Murdock cleared the way through the crowd and Grace followed behind.

  At the side of the dais Niamh watched the exchange between her mother and the elf. Niamh knew all about plots. She had made enough of them herself in the past when thinking of inventive ways to torment her brother. They were up to something. Quinn was right. That flash on the mountain side had to be more than bad luck. And Niamh meant to find out soon just what that was …

  Chapter 9

  Mountain Treasure

  ‘Will you ever get out of bed! Honestly! The only lump I’ve seen bigger than you is normally in the coal scuttle!’

  Grady stirred slowly despite his sister’s insistence. ‘Wha?’ he said sleepily. ‘Wha time is it?’

  ‘The word is what, Grady – not wha … And it’s five-thirty.’

  ‘That better be in the evening or I’m going to be really grumpy,’ said Grady, falling out of bed.

  ‘The faeries have your clothes ready to go. Get them on and meet me downstairs,’ said Niamh, picking up the neatly folded clothes at the end of the bed and throwing them at Grady. ‘Hurry up and get changed.’

  ‘How about a little privacy and I might consider it,’ said Grady, picking himself up off the floor.

  ‘With pleasure,’ said Niamh, storming out. ‘Make sure you get moving or I’ll send the grogoch in to help.’

  Grady sped up. The thought of the smelly creature attempting to help him with his underwear was too scary. It wasn’t too many more minutes before he joined Niamh in the castle kitchens. Even at this early hour the kitchen was busy as faeries swung pots and pans to and fro, creating the most extraordinary ballet of kitchen utensils.

  ‘There you are,’ said Devin. The early start had dampened her usually bright manner. Bree lounged beside her, munching without much enthusiasm on a bowl of cereal while Tulliah, Quinn and Hugh seemed content with the chunky toast they were consuming with gusto.

  A selection of food appeared in front of Grady, held by a small coterie of faeries. ‘Would you like something to eat?’ said one of them in a shrill voice.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Grady, reaching for a plate.

  ‘Where are we going, Niamh?’ said Devin sleepily. ‘And why?’

  ‘That mountain hillside behind the target ranges. Something’s not right about what happened yesterday. I think those Flamville supporters had something cooked up to make sure their shooter won.’

  ‘Oh pu-leease Niamh,’ said Tulliah. ‘Do you really think they would go through all that effort for a minor competition like that?’

  ‘I think you underestimate Flamville,’ said Quinn. ‘They take winning and losing seriously – even if it’s just a minor competition.’

  ‘I know what I saw,’ said Niamh, undeterred. ‘I want to see if there’s anything up there.’ She tossed the remains of her breakfast towards the sink but it was swiftly picked out of the air by a diving faerie who cast Niamh the most disapproving look. Niamh did not notice as she swept out of the kitchens and up the stairs to the courtyard. All the brooms were racked against the wall, watched over by shadowy castle guards hiding in the dim early morning light. Niamh had not intended to try to sneak out and she knew it would not take long for their early start to reach her parents. As if sensing her thoughts a shimmer of light in the sky high above outlined the majestic form of Brighid in flight. That dam … blasted bird she thought to herself. She still found it hard to swear even in her own head. It was something her mother reminded her far too often that princesses did not do! In a huff she kicked off from the ground without waiting to see if the others were following, and sped down to the dim edge of Morrigan’s Lake.

  Grady shrugged at the others. ‘She’s not in her best mood today.’

  ‘Really?’ said Quinn with mock surprise. ‘I was thinking how charming she appears t
oday.’

  Grady chuckled but grabbed his broomstick and kicked off after his sister. It didn’t take him long to pull alongside her, and the others were not far behind. As he fell in beside Niamh he saw movement by the lake edge. ‘What’s that?’ he said, pointing to a line of pale lights moving up from the water’s edge and disappearing under a canopy of trees.

  ‘The trooping faeries,’ said Quinn, drawing alongside. ‘If you’re lucky you can see them at night making their way to the lake or on their way back at the start of the day like this. They normally don’t let themselves be seen if they don’t want to be. If you’re unlucky they will allow you to follow them into the forest.’

  ‘Why would that be unlucky?’ said Grady.

  ‘No one who follows the trooping faeries into the forest is seen again,’ said Quinn darkly.

  ‘What happens to them?’ said Grady, now seriously interested in the dancing lights.

  ‘No one knows,’ said Quinn as they watched the lights move deeper into the forest. ‘Some say they become servants of the faeries, but no one knows for sure.’

  Grady stared at the lights, mesmerised by the glow. He started to drift towards the lake edge but came to his senses as Quinn flew alongside and snapped his fingers in front of Grady’s drooping head.

  ‘See,’ said Quinn, as Grady shook his head and corrected his course. ‘They are masters of distraction. It doesn’t take much to get dragged into their lair.’

  Grady looked back over his shoulder. A single light hovered by the lake edge though all the others were now hidden by the forest. The light glowed more intensely for a moment before winking out, but Grady was left in no doubt the creatures were watching.

  The waters of the lake sped past as Niamh steered towards the common. She glanced down at the mirror-like surface of the waters below. A reflection stared back, but the face was not hers. A girl with golden hair streaming away from her face clung to the reflected broomstick in Niamh’s place. The girl waved before casting her head back, laughing, and leaping towards Niamh who screamed and pulled her broomstick sharply upwards. She rocketed skyward, briefly spiralling out of control before gathering her wits and bringing the broomstick back to level flight. She glanced around but could see no sign of the girl in the water.