by Lari Don
He stood up, pulled his staff from the ground, and started running towards them. As soon as he lifted the staff, the slabs ahead of him began to settle down, but jolting and jerking stones still surrounded Emmie and Pearl.
“We can’t wait for them all to stop moving; he’ll reach us before then,” decided Pearl. “Run for the summit!”
So Pearl and Emmie turned, jumped onto the shifting rock behind them and tried to run over the lurching plateau.
The stones slid apart, leaving deep gaps under their feet; the stones crashed together, threatening to crush them between edges and corners. Pearl leapt off each slab not knowing if it would follow her upwards, knocking her feet from under her; she aimed for the next slab not knowing if it would still be there when she landed.
She kept one stone behind Emmie, and watched as her sister, with shorter legs but more grace, timed her leaps well. Soon the slabs were moving less violently, but Pearl knew that if the last ripple was reaching them, so was Thomas.
She looked round. He was much closer now, moving fast on stones that lay flat just as he reached them, and she could see exhilaration on his face. He was getting to fight his war today.
The girls had almost reached the edge of the plateau. The start of the ridge reared up ahead of them.
“Emmie,” Thomas yelled, “Emmie. I still have years’ worth of power in my staff, but you’ve used up your stolen power and you’ve no lore to help you gather more. You’ve nothing left to fight me with.”
The girls leapt off the last shuddering slab onto the sharp ridge.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Emmie, because I need to take you to my grandfather. But I don’t need Pearl. And you have no power left to protect her. Come back here, Emmie!”
Emmie called, “I won’t turn back now. And I won’t let you hurt my sister.” She nodded at Pearl. “Lead on, big sister. I’ll be right behind you.”
So Pearl started up the ridge to the summit, her little sister a step behind, a shield between her and Thomas.
The ridge hung like a silver shawl on a clothes line, pegged to the corner of the plateau at one end and to the summit of the Keystone at the other; sweeping up in a line to the peak, draping down either side. The ridge was so narrow, Pearl expected it to sway and billow in a breath of wind.
Even if Emmie hadn’t been protecting Pearl’s back, they couldn’t have climbed two abreast, and it was impossible to run. They had to walk carefully, watching their footing with every step. Pearl hoped Thomas would be walking just as slowly; if he moved less cautiously, he could catch up before they reached the summit.
There was no safe path along the ridge. Pearl was climbing along the slanted top edge of layered rock, jamming her feet into corners, using the angle of the rock to stop herself slipping.
“If he makes these rocks move, we’ll have no chance. It’s dangerous enough with everything standing still.”
“He can’t dislodge you without dislodging me too,” murmured Emmie. “We just have to reach the top and get the keystone before he does.”
Pearl looked at the pointed peak ahead. There was nothing there but bare rock. There was nothing under her feet but bare rock. There was nothing around her but air.
She heard breathing behind her. Emmie’s shallow fast breathing. Was that Thomas’s breathing too, harder, deeper, catching up?
Pearl concentrated on each step, each breath.
Left, right, left, right. In, out, in, out.
She waited fearfully for a punch of sound between her shoulders, or for the stone under her boots to shift and fall.
Left, right; in, out.
She kept going, racing at a snail’s pace to the summit.
Chapter 20
Pearl placed each foot carefully, arms out for balance, moving along the ridge only slightly faster than she would walk along a garden wall.
“Hurry!” said Emmie behind her. “Hurry! Thomas is catching up. If he gets really close he can aim round me and reach you.”
Pearl glanced back briefly. Thomas was moving with care, but with his eyes on Emmie, not on his feet. He was no more than sixty yards behind them. She looked ahead at the summit. It was about forty yards ahead.
Then she heard a clatter and a gasp.
Emmie had slipped and fallen awkwardly, with one leg bent under her and her hands splayed out, grasping the edge of the ridge. As Pearl bent down to grab Emmie, a wave of sound slid above her, rippling her hair.
Pearl pulled Emmie back up between herself and Thomas. He lowered his staff. “Nearly!” he yelled. “Give up now, girls, and we can all get down safely.”
“Are you alright?” asked Pearl.
Emmie nodded. “Just keep going.”
They set off again. With Thomas still further behind them than their goal was in front of them, Pearl thought they could reach the summit before he caught up.
The race to the top was the one race against Thomas she could win today.
But Pearl suddenly realised it was a pointless race to win: when they reached the summit, they would be exposed, with nowhere to hide or run from Thomas’s anger and power. Losing this race would still be a victory for Thomas, because he would have them trapped at the finishing line.
Unless they won the prize as well as the race. Unless they found the keystone, a treasure from a bedtime story which even the story’s heroes had never seen.
“What exactly are we looking for on the summit?” Pearl croaked at Emmie, almost choking with effort and fear.
“The keystone, of course.”
“But what will it look like?”
“I don’t know,” Emmie admitted. “I’m just hoping it will be obvious when we get there.”
“Couldn’t we just pick up any old stone, wave it at Thomas and see if it frightens him?”
“Does he seem easily frightened to you?”
Pearl was balancing too carefully to shake her head.
The ridge widened slightly as it tipped up towards the summit. They didn’t dare climb it side by side as it would give Thomas a clear shot at Pearl’s back. But with the safety of a few paces of rock on either side, Pearl broke into a run, pushing herself as hard as she could. Emmie stayed just one step behind.
Suddenly Pearl reached the top. What looked like a sharp peak from a distance was as level on top as a billiard table, and twice as wide. But the true summit was at the northern edge, a point of rock higher than the rest by the height of Emmie’s shoulders.
“Hunt for the keystone!” ordered Pearl, walking swiftly to the centre of the mountaintop. Was it a building block? A crystal? Was it carved by hand or shaped by the weather? She kicked in panic at the few boring lumps of rock scattered around.
“Emmie!” she called urgently. Emmie wasn’t looking for anything. She was standing with her hand on the true summit of the Keystone Peak.
“Pearl,” Emmie said calmly, “please give me the flint from your pocket.”
Pearl put her hand in her pocket.
Thomas stepped onto the summit.
Pearl stretched out her arm and gave the arrowhead to Emmie, who held it in her right hand and grasped Pearl’s hand with her left.
“Don’t let go of me,” Emmie whispered.
Thomas walked towards them. “Were you searching for the keystone? Haven’t you found it? Bad luck, girls.”
He lifted his staff. “Pearl. I’m sorry you never heard the music of the land.”
He pointed his staff straight at her and smiled. Not a glittering smile, nor a charming smile, nor a wolfish smile. Just a slightly squint smile that actually wrinkled his eyes, and may even have been regret. “I am sorry, Pearl.”
Pearl gripped her sister’s hand tightly, and gulped a breath of cold air.
“Don’t worry,” Emmie said confidently. “She’ll hear this.”
Emmie struck the true summit with the flint.
It rang like a bell. A bell the size of a mountain.
The whole mountain shook, vibrating and resonating. Pearl h
eld onto Emmie, and Emmie held onto the flint. They moved with the sound, held safe within its waves.
So the keystone rang, and Pearl heard the land sing.
Thomas was rocked off his feet and thrown into the air. He fell backwards and out of Pearl’s sight, flying off the Keystone Peak, just like his grey-haired ancestor.
As the Keystone Peak vibrated, it was joined by the weaker off-key notes of the other mountains in the range. They sang with one voice, as Pearl and Emmie stood surrounded by the pulse of the rocks.
Pearl waited impatiently for the noise to stop. When the summit stilled, she rushed to the edge to look for Thomas, who was far too young to go grey into a grave.
He lay sprawled at the top of the ridge, where it widened out, looking clumsy for the first time since she’d met him. His staff was lying abandoned by his open fingers. His hair was black. But he wasn’t moving.
Pearl scrambled down to him, put her hand on his cheek and watched his chest. He was still breathing.
Emmie walked down to them.
“That explains why no one ever took the keystone off the mountain. It is the mountain,” said Emmie. “Could you pop this back in your pinafore? I don’t have pockets in this dress.” She handed the flint to Pearl, then she looked at Thomas. “Is he alive?”
“Yes, but he’s unconscious.”
“What was he going to do?”
“Kill me and take you.”
They looked at him silently.
Finally, Emmie asked, “What should we do with him?”
Pearl said quietly, “Perhaps it’s his destiny to die here.” She raised her eyebrows at her newly powerful little sister, wondering how Emmie would choose to use her strength and ambition.
Emmie pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “We have to help him.”
Pearl sighed with relief. “Of course we do.”
She turned back to Thomas and brushed the hair off his forehead.
His eyes opened.
Pearl moved faster than either her sister or Thomas, and pulled the staff away from his outstretched hand.
Emmie said in a sharp sweet voice, “I’ll take that. You help him up.”
“No!” Pearl stepped away from them both.
Thomas spoke hoarsely, “Please give me the staff. I need it to help me stand.”
“No!” repeated Pearl. “I’ll keep it, so we can get off this mountain without any loud noises or moving rocks.”
Thomas sat up and glared at her. Emmie put her hands on her hips and pouted.
Pearl held the heavy stick tightly. It pressed uncomfortably against her pinafore, forcing the blunt point of the flint into her leg.
Thomas stood up and dusted his trousers down. “Please give me my staff, Pearl. I do admit that you’ve defeated me, for now, but I can’t be without my staff.”
“No. It’s too dangerous in your hands, in the hands of anyone who thinks they have a right to power.” She glanced at her sister, then back to Thomas. “If you try to take it from me, I will drop it.” She dangled the staff over the edge of the ridge.
Thomas held his hands up in a gesture of acceptance, but his eyes were dark and angry.
“Now, Thomas, are you hurt?” Pearl asked, feeling more in control. “Can you walk?”
He rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers. “I’m fine.” He took a long step towards her. “See?”
“Stay back!” ordered Pearl.
Thomas scowled. Pearl waved the staff over the edge again. Emmie giggled.
Thomas opened his mouth, but Pearl never found out if he was going to agree or argue, because his words were drowned out by the huge hooting of a horn. Like a hunting horn, but louder than thunder, and more exhilarating than a whole pipe band.
When the horn’s halloo ended, the joyful noise echoed round the mountains. Then Pearl heard more than an echo. A couple of high notes flew around their heads, chirruping and dancing, as if they were chasing the music of the horn.
Thomas stood taller, his angry face smoothed into a smile.
Emmie turned pale.
“What? What?” Pearl looked at the two of them. Something had changed, but she didn’t know what. She still held the staff, but she seemed to have lost control.
“That was my grandfather,” Thomas said proudly. “He’s come to hunt the Laird. But who has he brought with him? You know, don’t you, Emmie? You recognised their voices, didn’t you?”
“Jasper and Ruby,” Emmie whispered. “That was Jasper and Ruby.”
Chapter 21
“Jasper and Ruby?” repeated Pearl. “How did he get Ruby?” She turned on Thomas. “How did your grandfather get Ruby?”
He grinned at her. “You know I didn’t bring you into the mountains just for the pleasure of your company, Pearl. I did hope you would tell me where Ruby was, but I wasn’t sure I could persuade you.”
“Or force me.” She glared at him.
“Indeed. So in the note Jasper took to Horsburgh Hall, I told my grandfather you’d probably hidden Ruby in the wood, because you hadn’t had time to take her home. I suggested Grandfather use Jasper as bait to lure her out. Why didn’t you tell her to stay hidden? Why didn’t you arrange a password?”
“I told her not to come out for anyone but me.” Pearl’s tired shoulders slumped, and the tip of the staff scraped on the rock. “But she doesn’t usually do what I tell her.”
Thomas smirked. “This changes everything. I’ve won now, haven’t I, Pearl? I have two triplets, and you only have one. So give me back my staff, and we’ll go safely and quietly down the hill, as you so sensibly suggest. Then Emmie and I will meet my grandfather and find her destiny. Pearl, my dear, you can go home for tea, or come and argue against fate. It’s up to you.”
He held out his hand for the staff.
Pearl tightened her fist round the stick.
“Fine.” Thomas shrugged. “You carry it if you like. It’s long and heavy and awkward, and you can’t make it work, and you’ll have to give it back eventually. But you keep pretending you’re in charge if you really want to.”
Pearl looked at Emmie, who said in a small voice, “He’s right. He has won. I have to go with him, so I can join Ruby and Jasper. At least we tried, Pearl, we tried our best, but the Earl and Thomas are stronger than us, and we’ll just have to do what they want.” She sniffed.
Pearl stared at her sister. Had she given up? Emmie sniffed again. Pearl dropped the staff on the ground. It clattered like a dead branch. She turned to walk down the mountain.
Then she looked back to see if her sister had been pretending and was about to ambush Thomas, but Emmie was standing passively as he waved his staff over her head and down her sides.
“Just checking that you don’t have lots of power stored somewhere, Emmie,” he explained. “You created an amazingly strong connection with the mountains for a moment, even without the lost keystone.”
Emmie glanced over at Pearl, and shook her head very slightly.
Thomas kept talking. “Your skills are even more unusual than your brother’s. But you don’t know how to use them yet, so I don’t want you carrying lots of power around, not before the ceremony.”
“I don’t have anywhere to store power yet,” Emmie said calmly. “Where did you get your staff?”
Pearl tried to stomp off in a huff, but that wasn’t safe on the narrow ridge, so she just walked on steadily. Emmie and Thomas followed, having a remarkably friendly conversation about the right way to store the power of the land. Pearl couldn’t move fast enough to escape from their cheerful voices.
“It’s called a lorefast,” Thomas explained. “Everyone who knows landlore needs one to store the power of the land’s music. The Laird has a bone because he still uses bloodlore. I have a staff from an old rowan tree. My grandfather has a bull’s horn.”
“Can you inherit them, or do you need to find your own?” Emmie asked.
“Everyone needs their own fresh lorefast to master the lore, but the ancient lorefas
ts are the strongest. The lorefast of the last Lord of Landlaw Hold stores centuries of power, and it’s been passed down in my family. But you have to earn the right to use the ancient lorefasts.”
Pearl forgot she was trying to ignore them and turned carefully round. “That’s what the Laird meant. That’s why you’re trying so hard to crown your grandfather. You want to earn the old lorefast.”
“Aren’t you clever, Pearl? Yes, if I deliver all the triplets and the Laird to my grandfather, he’s promised me the lorefast of Landlaw Hold. Then I will have all the power my family has ever gathered. My grandfather’s only interested in these small hills, but I want to use my landlore everywhere.”
He kept Emmie moving in front of him with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “So that’s how your destiny is bound up with mine, Emmie. You’ll crown my grandfather, and I’ll gain more power than he has ever handled.”
“I would like a lorefast too,” Emmie said in a chirpy voice. “If I could find a new one, not an ancient one like the one you want, would you teach me to use it? You’d be an inspiring teacher.”
“You’d be an interesting pupil. We could do a lot together. But … we’ll see.” His face hardened. “Come on,” he snapped at Pearl. “Hurry up. We must get all the triplets together.”
So Pearl led the way down the mountain.
The ridge didn’t seem so dangerous now. The weather was sunny and windless, the rocky path seemed wider than it had a few minutes ago. The way down is never as exciting as the way up, and she wasn’t being chased any more, so Pearl had plenty of time to think.
When she glanced behind, Emmie was looking as cheerful as a child going to a picnic, and Thomas was looking triumphant.
But Pearl felt miserable. Yet again, she had nearly rescued a triplet; yet again, she had ended up doing exactly what Thomas wanted.
