Bree and Grady flew swiftly into formation on either side of Niamh. ‘What happened!’ said Bree breathlessly.
‘I … I’m not sure,’ said Niamh confusedly. ‘I thought …’ She stopped herself saying any more but with a glance at Grady she pointed her broomstick towards the lake again and swooped low over its surface. This time the only reflection was hers. There was no sign of anyone, or anything, in the waters below.
Grady swung close beside her as they approached the shore. ‘What did you see?’ he said.
Niamh said nothing but gave him a barely perceptible nod of the head. ‘Not now’ was the message. She urged her broomstick forward and swept over the shoreline, across the road and common ground, and headed towards the hills.
It did not take long for the group to reach their destination. A rocky outcrop sheltered a short flat shelf which ran back into the mountain side. It was a perfect hiding place. Anyone concealed here would be perfectly hidden from above or below. Niamh looked down towards the common ground as Grady and Devin swooped in beside her. The others were close behind but the shelf was not big enough for them all so their landing on the mountain slope was awkward.
‘What are we looking for?’ said Tulliah, bouncing up beside Niamh.
Niamh said nothing but continued staring down at where the targets had been. At this distance the idea that someone could have deliberately blinded her seemed less likely. The common was a long way from this vantage point.
‘Niamh?’ said Tulliah.
‘What?’ said Niamh, lost in thought.
‘I said what are we looking for?’
‘I don’t know. Something. Anything. Somebody was up here. Or something …’
Grady scanned the ground on the ledge, scuffing the loose shale with his foot. A sparkle caught his eye. He stooped to collect a shard of bright silver from beneath a fragment of dull schist. He rubbed his thumb over the shard to remove a coating of dust and looked into the crystal-clear reflection it showed. ‘This doesn’t belong here,’ he said to no one in particular.
Quinn scrambled up the slope. ‘Let me see?’ he said.
Grady handed his find over to Quinn, who crouched at the lip of the ledge. ‘This isn’t rock,’ he said.
Niamh pounced on the two of them, taking the shard from Quinn’s fingers.
‘Hey!’ said Quinn, sucking at the drop of blood which began to flow from the cut caused by Niamh’s grasping.
Niamh gave a cursory glance at Quinn before making a short apology. Without thinking she pulled out her wand and cast a glowing charm around Quinn’s hand.
‘What the ...’ said Quinn, holding up his iridescent hand. The glow faded. Quinn stared at where the cut had been only moments before. ‘How did you do that?’
‘Do what?’ she said absently as she turned the shard over and over in her hands.
‘Heal my cut?’ said Quinn, holding out his hand.
‘What cut?’ said Niamh distractedly.
‘The cut you gave me pulling that mirror out of my hands?’ said Quinn.
‘It’s not a mirror,’ said Niamh, handing the shard back to Quinn. ‘Look for yourself.’
Quinn took it and turned it this way and that. ‘It looks like a mirror to me.’
‘Turn it over again and look properly this time,’ said Niamh.
Quinn did so and smiled. ‘You’re right! Both sides reflect perfectly. There’s no back to the mirror!’
‘It’s royal shale,’ said Devin, sitting on the slope with her legs pulled up in front of her. She had been staring sleepily out over the lake and had not said a word. But all eyes now turned to her.
‘What do you mean, royal shale?’ said Quinn.
‘Don’t you read your history?’ said Devin without a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
‘Well … yes I do read it. I didn’t realise you did,’ said Quinn.
‘Then you should know it’s not rock,’ said Devin, smiling. ‘Think about it for a minute.’
Quinn frowned. He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips before snapping his fingers. ‘She’s right!’
‘I’m not offended by how surprised you sound,’ said Devin, continuing to smile.
‘Sorry,’ said Quinn sheepishly.
‘What’s royal shale?’ said Grady, looking confused.
‘According to the legends it’s not a rock. It’s a special, rare type of … well, flesh isn’t the right word, but a rare type of troll is made from it. Royal shale is almost … mythical. It’s that rare. If Devin is right, if this is royal shale, then there has been a troll up here. But not any troll, a troll out of the ancient legends.’
Niamh and Grady looked at each other. They knew, without needing to share their thoughts this time, what the other was thinking. Why would a troll take the time to make sure Niamh would miss her target in a minor competition? It didn’t make sense.
Before they could think of any more questions the morning light began to make its way down the peaks at the far end of the lake. The golden glow lit the mountains with a fiery hue which reflected off the snow-capped peaks. The children stood watching as the sunlight crept down the mountains and illuminated the land around the lake. Niamh broke the silence with a squeal. ‘There!’ she shouted, pointing at a slope which the sunlight had only just managed to kiss with its rays.
‘What?’ said Grady, peering to where Niamh pointed.
‘The reflection!’ said Niamh, leaping onto her broomstick and speeding off towards the distant slopes.
Grady gazed in the direction Niamh had flown. He strained his eyes and caught the briefest glimpse of a bright blink of light before it was gone. ‘She’s completely insane,’ he muttered.
Bree looked sideways at Grady. ‘What’s she up to now?’ she said.
Grady wasn’t sure but he knew for certain that he too had seen the flash, and no one else had. There was no reaction from the rest of the group. Better cover her tracks he thought to himself. ‘She’s gone a bit loopy with the loss yesterday. Why don’t you all go back to the castle and relax. I’ll see what she’s up to.’
Quinn didn’t seem at all convinced. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Grady, returning Quinn’s questioning stare without flinching. ‘I might hang on to this for now,’ he said, taking the shale and tucking it into his sweatshirt. ‘I’ll see you back there later. I’d better go or I’ll never catch her.’ He kicked briskly off the ledge, plunging out over the slopes, and headed after his sister.
Grady knew he would have a hard time catching Niamh. Around him the air slipped by with a swishing sound, but he fancied as he listened that he could hear a thrumming noise underneath it all. He listened more closely, slowing his broomstick a little and noting how the sound changed pitch.
‘You’re ready,’ said a voice in Grady’s head.
‘Oh. Hep. You’re back again are you?’ said Grady.
‘I never went away.’
‘Well I’m kind of busy right now,’ said Grady, focusing on his sister ahead. He was making no inroads on her lead.
‘You could reach her in moments, you know.’
‘Has being a statue for all those years turned your brain to mush?’ said Grady. ‘She’s miles ahead.’
Hep laughed. ‘You keep forgetting you don’t have the same limitations now. Reach for the sky.’
‘What?’ said Grady, feeling completely confused.
‘You can hear the air around you. Now feel for the fabric it moves within. Try it.’
Grady shook his head. ‘I don’t have a clue what you mean. You are mad.’
‘Humour me. Just try it.’
Grady laughed. ‘Whatever,’ he said. He closed his eyes and felt the air moving over him. It coursed around the broomstick and flowed like a river behind him. It felt solid and alive, but on top of it all he also felt something new, something fluid but touchable. His eyes flashed open.
‘You can feel it, can’t you,’ said Hep. ‘Reach for it. Do it now!’
Grady d
idn’t have time to think. He reached his hand out ahead of him and … twisted. The sky lurched and he felt the wind disappear. The mountains and lake stretched out as if a cheap fairground mirror had been placed in front of him. His sister, one moment far ahead of him, began to come back towards him as if on a piece of string. He saw her approaching with a rapidity he had not allowed for and screamed as he let go of whatever it was he had grabbed. The world snapped back into place. Grady swung his broomstick to one side to avoid hitting Niamh. He looked back at her, panting from the shock of what he had accomplished.
‘How did you do that?’ yelled Niamh as she recovered from the surprise of Grady’s speedy arrival. ‘Who taught you to time-fold?’
Grady took another deep breath to calm himself. ‘Hep gave me a little help but it was mostly … me.’
Niamh regarded her brother with some wonder. ‘Can you do it again?’
Grady said nothing but glanced ahead. The mountain they were aiming for still seemed some way away. Another little burst should be safe enough. He turned and smiled at his sister before reaching out a hand and gripping at the air again.
Niamh watched as her brother blurred and disappeared ahead of her. A blast of … something knocked her backwards on her broomstick as Grady vanished into the distance.
Ahead of her, Grady shouted and whooped loudly. The blurring of the world he had felt the first time he reached for the fabric of the air seemed less intense this time and he found himself able to enjoy the sensation of speed. He glanced over his shoulder to where Niamh hung seemingly motionless in the air. But as he turned around to face his destination he roared with fright as the mountain reared up in front of him. He rapidly dropped out of folded time and slowed down. By now though, a sheer bluff reared in front of him. He screamed again and yanked the broomstick violently upwards. The rocks loomed closer and closer as the broomstick curved skyward and, just when it seemed he would smear himself all over the mountain, the broomstick went absolutely vertical, inches from the wall. Small rocks were sucked from the cliff face and plummeted down as he shot past. Grady looped the broomstick backwards and away from the cliff. He slowly circled back, panting with fright.
‘The trick is to know when to let go.’
‘Oh thank you very much, Hep,’ said Grady as he calmed down. ‘You could have told me that before!’
‘You seemed to be having such fun.’
‘My idea of fun doesn’t involve crashing into mountains.’
‘I had faith you would work it out. Now watch your sister. Persephone is talking to her.’
Grady stared at the still distant speck of Niamh. She appeared to hang motionless, but then accelerated towards him. The sky flickered blue and red around her as she drew closer until in one impossibly fast moment the speed evaporated and she gracefully swept round in an arc to hover, wide-eyed and breathless, beside her brother. Grady smiled at the whiteness of her knuckles from her grip on her broomstick. ‘It’s a bit of a shock, isn’t it,’ he said.
‘Just a bit,’ said Niamh, regaining her composure.
‘Persephone told you how to move like that?’
Niamh nodded. ‘It takes your breath away, doesn’t it …’
‘Yep,’ said Grady with a smile. He let his broomstick slowly drift around to face the cliff. ‘So what did you think you saw up here?’
‘I don’t think I saw anything,’ growled Niamh. ‘I know I saw a flash of light that was exactly the same as I saw on the range. It was higher though. Up here,’ she said as she started to float upwards.
They flew slowly over the lip of the rock face as morning light flowed further down the mountain side. A flat ledge of grey brown rock stretched ahead leading to a cave in the side of the mountain. Large boulders were scattered haphazardly around the ledge. The children dismounted and picked their way tentatively across the bumpy landscape.
‘These rocks are weird,’ said Grady, staring closely at the unusual lumps as they passed between them.
‘I know what you mean,’ said Niamh. ‘It feels like they’re … watching us.’
The children stopped dead at the sound of grinding rocks behind them. They slowly turned to see boulder after boulder unfolding and growing in front of their widening eyes. ‘They’re not rocks,’ said Niamh quietly. ‘They’re trolls.’
The creatures in front of them grew more recognisable by the moment. Fractures appeared in the rock which outlined arms and legs, and a worryingly formidable array of weapons. The children were rapidly surrounded by trolls that towered over them.
‘Any bright ideas?’ said Grady, pulling out his wand.
‘Some,’ said Niamh. ‘But they generally involve not being surrounded by trolls.’
The trolls drew closer, each step accompanied by a grinding noise. Their features were now horribly clear. Squat heads, bulky chests and tree trunk legs were cut through with veins of red and brown rock which camouflaged them perfectly on the ledge. The blackest eyes Niamh had ever seen made the trolls seem menacing in the extreme. She gulped as she stood back to back with her brother.
‘They aren’t going to hurt us,’ Grady whispered with certainty.
‘How do you know?’ said Niamh.
‘They haven’t raised their hands or touched their weapons.’
Grady was right. Apart from standing intimidatingly close the trolls had not made any other moves.
‘You are right. They will not harm you,’ boomed a voice from the entrance to the cave.
The children tried to peer between the guards at the new arrival. Several trolls shuffled backwards and a path opened up, leading to another towering stone figure. Where the guards were brutish in appearance, this one seemed finely carved – much bulkier than any human but still vastly different from his compatriots. The figure’s voice was deep and resonant and an echo of his words from the cave lent him an ethereal air.
‘You should not be here. But now that you are you must come with me.’ The figure beckoned the children towards him. The guards behind the children shuffled forward making it quite clear, in the gentlest possible way, that there was only one direction in which they should walk.
Niamh moved a little closer to Grady and lightly touched his arm. ‘Are we in trouble?’
‘Not yet,’ came the reply. ‘But I think we should keep our wands ready.’
The creature at the cave entrance was a full head taller than the guards that herded the children forward. But even then it did not need to stoop as it turned to walk back into the cave. ‘Follow me,’ it said, striding into the gloom.
‘We can’t see in the dark,’ Grady shouted to the figure.
‘My hearing is excellent. You do not need to shout.’ The troll closed its eyes and breathed deeply, lifting its hands and long pointed fingers towards the ceiling in an expansive gesture. The cave began to glow brightly as pinpricks of light crept up the walls and across the ceiling to create a bright pathway that stretched down what the children could now see was a tunnel. The path sloped gently upwards and out of view around a corner not far ahead.
‘Oh great,’ said Grady. ‘More tunnels.’
Niamh smiled as she remembered their encounter with Miranda at the Dragon’s Lair. That had ended well – eventually – so she hoped it was a good omen in this case.
‘Is that better?’ said the figure. ‘Glow worms. They cast a beautiful light.’
‘Thank you,’ said Niamh. ‘Do you have a name?’
The figure bent down to look closer at the children. Its eyes sparkled as if the light was being reflected from crystals. It regarded the children for a few moments before replying. ‘Not one that you can pronounce. But in your language you might call me … Hewn.’
‘That’s a short name for a troll isn’t it?’ said Grady. ‘I thought you had names like Ganzabigun or Whozabigun.’
Niamh rolled her eyes. Sometimes she wished her brother thought before opening his mouth.
‘We don’t use those names,’ said Hewn. ‘Those were names used
in the dark days. They never reflected who we were.’
‘Sorry,’ said Grady, blushing. ‘I thought …’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Hewn. ‘You are still new to the Nearworld and there are things you don’t know.’
‘You know who we are?’ said Niamh.
‘Of course. You are the Princess Niamh and you are the Prince Grady. We may live on a mountain top but news of your arrival and … exploits … have reached us. The king is eager to meet you. He expected it to be under different circumstances but we have heard you have an unorthodox approach to ceremony, so we should not be surprised to see you here.’
‘The king?’ said Grady wide-eyed. ‘But we aren’t ready to meet a king!’
‘I’m not sure anyone is ever ready to meet a king – especially not ours,’ said Hewn, leaning close again. He gave the children a hard stare before a smile creased the corners of his face and he winked one big crystal-blue eye.
The tunnel grew brighter the further into the mountain they travelled. Hewn walked steadily onwards, never sparing even a glance at the children. The guards had been replaced by other less threatening trolls that carried no weapons, but the children knew that drawing their wands would not be the best of moves.
‘They move quite differently from the trolls in town,’ whispered Niamh to Grady.
‘Yes,’ boomed Hewn. ‘And we have much better hearing here too,’ he said, marching on. ‘Remember. We are smarter and faster than our city cousins. Bear that in mind when you meet the king.’
Niamh mumbled an apology tinged with annoyance at her naivety.
Ahead of them the tunnel began to widen and daylight appeared to overtake the radiance of the glow worms. The children stared in awe as they entered a cavern larger than anything they had ever seen. The vaults at the Dragon’s Lair looked like tiny rooms compared to the space they now entered. Carved walls ran in a curve towards a distant ceiling. Galleries ran around the space, each of them glowing with a brightness not given by candle or fire but some other incandescent source. Hulking troll figures appeared at the edge of the gallery railings as the children entered. Bright striations of what appeared to be crystal ran through the rock towards the ceiling and carried the daylight glow from above. By some trick of the rock, the light was focused upon a raised mound in the middle of the chamber directly under the peak. Steps of white granite ran in one seamless piece towards a finely carved chair of the same stone. Upon the throne sat a troll unlike any they had ever seen before. Most trolls they had met (Hewn apart) had a rocky, blocky appearance – some a little more rugged as if they had grown out of the ground that day, some more finely structured. But the creature on the throne was so different as to appear to have come from another race. Gold and silver reflected the light making him appear to shine. Only tiny patches of rock marred the beauty of the precious metals. There was nothing rough about this creature. It stood in a fluid motion as the children approached. Its features were human in appearance with a chiselled chin, and a pointed and noble nose.
Azrael's Twins and the Circle of Stone: Book Two of the Nearworld Tales Page 12
