‘And how we will find you again?’ said Niamh.
Azrael shook his head. ‘You won’t. But I will find you. When the time is right. There is one other thing you should know before you go.’
‘Only one thing?’ said Grady.
Azrael laughed again. ‘For now. The stone circle is more important than you think. Modron is the key and what you saw must happen again. But until you read the final chapters you will not know why. There are many things to be put to rest. Think on that when you go.’
‘Can we trust the tro…’ Niamh started to say, but was cut off by Azrael.
‘Enough!’ he said, jumping up from his seat. ‘Time to go!’ he declared in a powerful voice.
The wizard spun on his heels and the room of mirrors spun with him. Niamh and Grady found themselves giddy with the speed of the change. Slowly the spinning subsided and they found themselves back in the maze with a corridor stretching ahead. The sounds of Hugh could be heard not far away.
‘We should go,’ said Niamh quietly.
Grady nodded but he had no stomach for a race against Hugh now. With a deep breath he turned and trotted forward, left and left again. It only took a handful of turns before they ran into the bright lights of the corridor outside the maze, to find Hugh and Bree standing there looking smug.
‘Where have you two been!’ said Hugh, grinning. ‘We’ve been here for ages. Bloody hell. Your jeans are a mess,’ he said, pointing to the soil-stained knees on Niamh’s pants.
‘And why have you got this rubbish in your hair,’ said Bree, reaching forward and pulling a twig from one of Grady’s red curls.
Niamh shared a smile with her brother. ‘You wouldn’t believe us even if we told you,’ she said with resignation. She knew this was a story they would be keeping to themselves – for a while at least.
High above the lake, Grace and Merritt sat at the table in the long room, surrounded by papers. Murdock sat across from Merritt, occasionally passing another document to him which was duly signed, passed back and placed on an ever growing pile of similar pages.
‘Honestly, Murdock,’ said Grace, sounding exasperated. ‘I really don’t see why all these things have to be signed here and in such a short space of time. Why couldn’t we do this back at the Dragon’s Lair?’
‘You know why, Grace,’ said the elf, obviously enjoying her annoyance. ‘The lore says that these must be signed here, in the region of the lake. Otherwise they aren’t legal.’
The door to the room opened and a vampire entered.
‘Thank you Melivula. Pop them down here and Grace will sign them for you shortly,’ said Murdock. Grace slumped back in her chair, rolling her eyes skyward.
The vampire tottered over to the table and dropped the pile beside one of equal height, before taking the pen from her mouth. ‘Sorry about this, Your Highness,’ she said as she arranged the pile so it did not collapse. ‘It’s been some time since you have been to the lake, so there is a great deal to catch up on. You know how Mr Sprinker is about these sorts of things.’
‘Don’t worry Melivula. I will make sure they are all signed,’ said Murdock, taking one of the papers from the pile and casting his eyes over it. ‘Hubelford, Sprinker and Von Dinkerling has done an excellent job maintaining these records for the royal family. There is not another legal firm we would trust to have done such a good job. And you can tell Mr Von Dinkerling to send his bill directly to my attention. I will make sure it is paid forthwith.’
‘Thank you sir,’ said the vampire deferentially. ‘There are approximately two centuries of incidentals Mr Von Dinkerling has mentioned he would like to charge. He has been working diligently on the royal file for some time.’
‘I’m sure he has,’ said Merritt without looking up. ‘But vampire or not, he’s not to suck any more blood from our royal coffers than the fee agreements allow. He’s tried that trick every time we turn up here. He tried it on my father and his father before him. While he may be long lived, so is the royal memory.’
The vampire smiled. ‘I’ll be sure to tell him that, Your Highness. Will that be all today?’
‘Thank you, Melivula. If we need you we will call the office.’
The vampire bowed politely, trotted towards the open window and threw herself out of it. As she did so her form blurred, shimmered, and turned into a large bat that skittered away towards the town.
Grace shook her head. ‘I really don’t know why they have to keep resorting to stereotypes for their transport. That bat thing is so last millennium.’
‘Hubelford, Sprinker and Von Dinkerling is an ancient firm,’ said Murdock. ‘They like to keep to the … old ways. I would, however, avoid going near them on a full moon. Old man Hubelford might be getting long in the tooth but he still likes the look of a young neck in the moonlight.’
Merritt stood and walked to the still open door to the corridor. He poked his head outside, looked both ways and, seeing no one, shut it quietly behind him. ‘It’s clear,’ he said.
Murdock drew his wand. A quick wave around the room sent a shimmering veil from ceiling to floor which sank into the stonework. ‘That should keep things private,’ he said as he placed his wand back into his jacket.
‘Is it really necessary?’ said Grace, putting down her pen after angrily scrawling another signature onto a scroll.
‘You know as well as I do that there is something afoot here that even I cannot understand,’ said Brighid, materialising behind Grace’s chair.
Grace let out a squeal and jumped in her chair. ‘Don’t DO that,’ she said, spinning round and stomping her foot at the phoenix. Brighid stood with what appeared to be a smile on her face.
‘It was worth it to see you like that,’ said Merritt. ‘Is that where your daughter gets it from?’ he said, laughing.
Grace scowled, waved a hand in Merritt’s direction, and sent his chair tumbling backwards.
‘Now, now children,’ said Murdock, chuckling. ‘Play time is later. We have things to discuss.’
‘So, what do we know, and what don’t we know?’ said Merritt, righting his chair and sitting down.
‘McHavering has been scouring the river, valley and mountains to the west, Roland has been all over the forests to the east, and I have been north and south. There has been not a single clue as to where she may be,’ said Brighid. ‘Are you certain she is here?’
Grace sighed. ‘I’ve never been more certain of anything.’
‘Roland is convinced too. Despite the lack of evidence.’
‘You sound convinced yourself, Murdock,’ said Merritt, flicking open his iWand. A page of notes appeared over the tip and Merritt idly ran his finger upwards, the text scrolling as he did.
‘Grady’s dragon has twice flown to the stables under the cover of darkness. Each time she has needed treatment for an arrow wound.’
‘That could be any troll deciding to take a pot shot. It doesn’t prove anything.’
‘Normally I would agree with you, Grace. The wounds have not been major, little more than nicks to a wing. But there is a sickness that spreads from them that Roland’s ointments and treatments can’t heal. It has been so bad he has even asked for help from McHavering.’
Merritt looking stunned. ‘It must be really bad for Roland to ask for anything from Hector. How have they healed the wounds?’
‘They haven’t,’ said Brighid, shaking her head. ‘I have had to give some … special help. The wounds haven’t fully been of this world. There is some other evil in them which is a signature of one witch. And one witch only.’
‘Do you believe the children have met her yet?’
‘Oh Grace,’ said Merritt, snapping his iWand shut. ‘What do you think? You know full well that witch, if she is here, will have honed in on the children like a hornet that’s had its nest disturbed.’
‘Then why haven’t we seen her, or seen the children with her?’ said Grace angrily. ‘You are meant to be this all powerful creature, Brighid, and we are meant to b
e wonderful sorcerers, yet our combined powers can’t show a trace of the one witch we know can do more damage by herself than any other of her kind.’
Brighid said nothing. A ruffle of feathers which caused a shimmer of flame to run across her wings was the only response.
‘The children have had a part to play in this too, Grace,’ said Murdock, in an attempt to add reason to the argument. ‘They have found some new way of hiding themselves when they leave the castle. I have had every sort of watcher in place to see if we could catch them leaving. But we only discover they have left after their rooms have been checked and the wards around the castle tested. I’ve had every kind of magical folk I could enlist set up a perimeter around the castle and no one has seen them leave. I’ve even had Eilidia and her friends out trying to track the two of them, but they have found absolutely nothing.’
‘Eilidia couldn’t find anything?’ said Merritt with obvious amazement. ‘I thought she was even better than you were.’
‘Is better. Not was,’ said Murdock pointedly. ‘She is a rare talent. That’s why we brought her here, as you well know. I would have thought with the connection that was established between the two girls after the crash in the race that Eilidia would have been able to pick Niamh out from a hundred miles away, but … nothing.’
‘And the other … spirit you felt?’ said Merritt.
‘It is still here,’ said Brighid. ‘It has been stalking the children, but I don’t know if its intentions are good or bad. It has roamed the castle, crossing wards at will, and disappearing without a trace. I keep devising new charms but, whatever it is, it adapts. I am a creature of many worlds but whatever this is, it lives between the worlds. It has no soul and it has no form, but it is real. It is not a ghost but there is something familiar about it.’
What do you mean by familiar?’ said Grace with interest.
‘The more I sense it, the more I know what to look for, I feel as though it is something, someone, I know.’
‘Should we be worried?’ asked Murdock.
‘I don’t know what you should think,’ said Brighid after mulling the question over. ‘All I know is I am, for the first time in a long time, at a loss to know where our best course lies.’
Grace walked to the window and stared out at the lake. Its calm surface was the antithesis of the turmoil she felt within. ‘I know we had a plan for how this would play out, but I think we can forget about it. We appear to be off the map on this one.’
Brighid nodded and shook her feathers again. ‘I agree. The children are in charge of where this might go now. We have to trust, really trust, that they know what is at stake.’
Chapter 20
The Hunter
Quinn found himself bailed up against a stone wall by an angry Niamh and a mildly mad Grady.
‘What else do you know about Azrael that you haven’t told us?’ said Niamh with her wand held threateningly close to Quinn’s chest.
‘I don’t think well under threat of transmutation, Niamh,’ he said, gingerly pushing the wand away from him. A spark erupted from the tip and smashed into the wall close to his ear.
Niamh glanced sideways at the dust floating away from the small impact crater her spell had made. In seconds a small army of dust faeries appeared, cleared the floating motes away, and vanished again.
Niamh turned her attention back to Quinn. ‘What else do you know about him?’ she demanded.
‘What sorts of things do you want to know?’ he said, keeping a wary eye on the waving tip of Niamh’s wand.
‘How did he die, for a start?’ said Grady.
Quinn held Grady’s stare for a long moment before giving him a sly smile. ‘One thing I’ve become good at over the years has been reading faces. What I see in your face, Grady, tells me you already know the answer to that question.’
Grady blushed as his eyes flicked to Niamh.
‘Thought so,’ said Quinn. ‘As you obviously know, no one saw him die. Azrael vanished after the end of the war between the trolls and the rest of the races. The Morrigan fought on the side of the trolls in that war, though she was really a whole side by herself. But once before that, he had disappeared for around a hundred years – no one knows where he went, but the smart guess is he went to the lands of Manannan Mac Lir and Tir na Nog, where time passes more slowly than it does here. He returned looking as young as when he vanished, but as soon as he returned he began to rapidly age. By the time he had helped defeat the Morrigan’s forces, and helped to write the truce negotiated at Bealey Spur, he had aged dramatically.’
‘What happened to him after that?’ said Niamh, dropping her wand.
Quinn looked sideways along the corridor. ‘Can we go somewhere else to talk about this? You look a little suspicious bailing me up in a hallway.’
Niamh huffed and stepped back from Quinn. ‘Okay. Let’s take a ride. Think you can keep up?’
Quinn scowled at Niamh. ‘If there is one thing you should have worked out by now it’s that you should never take me for granted.’
‘That sounds like a challenge to me,’ said Grady.
‘I would never dream of challenging you,’ said Quinn, bowing mockingly before he turned and ran towards the stairs at the end of the corridor. ‘But the last one to their broomstick is a witch’s wart!’
Minutes later, the three children flew slowly over the sparkling waters of the lake, Niamh and Grady listening as Quinn continued his story.
‘What you need to remember is the Morrigan never signed the treaty at Bealey Spur. The war only ended for everyone else in Avalon. The Morrigan always believed she had been betrayed. The spells cast by Azrael bound her tightly but she was still, by any normal standard anyway, immortal. Azrael knew that better than anyone. He was the one who cast the spell that bound her to the lands here.’
‘But if she was immortal, why was there never another war? Wouldn’t she have kept on fighting?’
Quinn glanced sideways at Niamh as he balanced skilfully on his rickety looking broom. ‘I know you are smart, Niamh, but sometimes you can be a little on the thick side. Work it out.’
Niamh cast a scathing frown at Quinn but considered what he said.
‘He’s been keeping her under control ever since!’
Quinn nodded. ‘No one knows how. By rights he should be dead but clearly he knows some magic that has escaped the rest of us. I searched for him many times, but he is much harder to find.’
‘Much harder to find than whom?’ said Grady.
Quinn grimaced. ‘That was a bit of a giveaway, wasn’t it? But I’m sure you can work it out.’
Grady glanced ahead and mulled over Quinn’s words. Ahead of him the peak that marked the line between the castle and the stone circle loomed. ‘Are you saying you’ve met the Morrigan?’
‘No,’ said Quinn, shaking his head. ‘But I did meet someone who knows her. I think you know her too.’
‘Aoife,’ said Niamh. It was not a question.
‘Yes,’ said Quinn. ‘She taught me many of the spells that the Morrigan taught her. Spells that have been mostly lost for years, centuries even. She taught them to me and I gave them to … Balthasar.’
‘Oh, well done,’ said Niamh angrily. ‘That was a good move.’
‘Well it’s not like I knew I was being used by him at the time. You may recall I had some issues to deal with back then.’
‘Sorry,’ said Niamh, sounding a little less graceful than she had intended.
Quinn pulled up his broomstick and came to a halt, floating above the cliffs that led down to the lake edge. In the distance the children could see the stone circle clearly, but Quinn did not seem to want to get any closer.
‘I don’t think you’ve been exactly honest with me, though,’ he said, sitting back on his broomstick and folding his arms. ‘The word in the castle is that you two have been unusually hard to keep an eye on. Who have you been meeting that you don’t want anyone knowing about – apart from Aoife, that is. You’ve already given
that bit away.’
Niamh glanced away towards the stone circle and let her broomstick float closer to Grady. Her arm bumped into Grady’s as she drifted; ‘Do we tell him?’
‘Yes,’ said Grady without hesitation. ‘He knows more about this than I thought.’
Niamh let her broomstick turn and lost contact with her brother. ‘We’ve met Azrael. Three times now.’
Quinn stumbled at Niamh’s words. The look on his face was pure amazement.
‘I searched for him for ages before you guys turned up. How did you manage to find him?’
‘Well … we didn’t really find him,’ said Niamh. ‘He found us, if you must know.’
The look of shock remained on Quinn’s face. He shook his head and stared into the distance. ‘No one has seen him for centuries and now he’s all over the place, and tracking you down?’
‘I wouldn’t call it all over the place,’ said Grady defensively.
‘Well, where then?’ said Quinn.
‘The lake edge, in town, once in the castle, and … in the mirror maze.’
‘That pause was a little too long,’ said Quinn, with narrowed eyes. ‘What happened in the maze?’
‘We sort of … ummm,’ said Grady.
‘Sort of um,’ echoed Quinn. ‘Bet that’s the sort of thing they’ve been teaching you in elocution lessons. The king would be delighted with that.’
‘We went back in time,’ said Niamh in a rush. ‘He took us back to show us when he first cast the spell that bound the Morrigan to the lake.’
Quinn’s mouth dropped open. He stared speechless for a few moments before stammering ‘He … you wen… you saw wha…’
‘Looks like you could do with your own speech lessons too,’ said Grady, smiling.
Quinn cast a squinty scowl at Grady.
‘I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you lost for words before,’ said Niamh, also smiling.
‘Well I know Gilly – Balthasar – was good, but even he didn’t manage time travel,’ said Quinn, recovering his composure.
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