Firestar

by Anne Forbes

  There was a silence. “That,” Shane said, “ought to be a piece of cake! We brought explosives with us and you’re right … the next big storm that comes along should give us good cover for an almighty bang.”

  “Yeah! Nobody would ever guess,” Chuck said thoughtfully, “and if anyone did hear the explosion … well, they’d think it was thunder.”

  “Or a stone giant, like you said,” laughed Sam.

  Shona stepped down from her perch on the high stone to give Neil a chance to see into the room. She was seething with rage. Blowing up Morven! How could they even think about it!

  Neil, in the meantime was staring in round-eyed wonder through the hole in the panelling. Not, it must be said, at the Americans. Indeed, they were now the least of his worries. He wasn’t even listening to them. He was staring, totally and absolutely gobsmacked. No one had mentioned that the castle was haunted yet he could see them quite clearly — two huge, kilted figures leaning back against an old oak chest. One had a mop of ferocious red hair, the other was dark and sported a black beard and both carried shields and heavy swords. Claymores, he supposed. He was just about to whisper the news to Clara and Lewis when he remembered that Shona knew nothing of their magic past.

  “Let’s have a look, Neil,” Lewis whispered, tugging at his sleeve.

  Neil stepped down from the stone, his mind in turmoil. What on earth was going on, he wondered. He tried to catch Clara’s eye so that he could warn her about the ghosts. It would be awful if she cried out in surprise and gave the game away! Clara, however, was looking up at Lewis, waiting for her turn to look through the panelling and it was as Neil leant forward to whisper in her ear that Lewis’s foot slipped off the stone.

  Clara and Shona caught him as he tumbled but it was too late, the damage had been done. They looked at one another in alarm as they heard the Americans push their chairs back at the sudden noise.

  “What was that?” Sam said fearfully.

  “It came from the wall over there,” Chuck said, getting to his feet.

  Shona reached up and quickly slid the little piece of panelling back into place as the Americans reached the wall and started tapping it.

  “It’s hollow,” Shane snarled. “There must be somebody behind it!”

  “It’s probably these wretched ghosts again!”

  “Or rats,” Steve said, hopefully.

  “Quiet, there’s someone in there,” Shane snapped. “I’m sure I heard something! Listen!”

  But, by then, there was nothing to hear for the four children had already reached the steep, narrow stair and were tip-toeing very quietly back along the secret passage.

  Clara and Shona looked scared but Lewis was as white as a sheet and it was then that Neil remembered that Lewis, too, was wearing a firestone. That was it! He must have seen the ghosts!

  It wasn’t only the ghosts that had scared Lewis, however. He’d had another shock, a shock that left his mind reeling, for before he’d slipped off the stone he’d had a good view of Chuck, and he’d recognized him immediately. Chuck, with the funny, spiky haircut, who used to visit his mum and dad in Kuwait. He couldn’t believe it. His friend, Chuck, was one of the Americans at Morven Castle!

  15. Ambush

  Prince Kalman opened his eyes as the noise of a helicopter drowned out the sound of the van’s rather decrepit old engine.

  Larry peered out of the side window, the bells on his cap rattling against the glass. “There’s another helicopter,” he said worriedly, “I wonder what it’s up to?” They’d noticed a police helicopter hovering above the road as they’d left Crianlarich and he wondered if it was the same one. “It’s got its searchlight on,” he said, bending his head to get a better look at it as it quartered the mountain slopes. “Do you think they know there are giants around?”

  “Bound to,” Kenny nodded, glancing at the stag through his rear-view mirror, “I bet the trailer driver stopped at the first police station he came to.”

  “Most probably,” Kalman agreed, remembering the look of horror on the man’s face as he’d seen a giant thundering along the road towards him.

  “Look out, there’s a road block ahead,” Larry said as they turned a bend and the headlights lit up the fluorescent jackets of the waiting policemen.

  As the van drew closer to the barrier, Kalman became increasingly apprehensive. So far the journey had been long but uneventful as Kenny, who knew the quiet country roads like the back of his hand, had used his knowledge to cut across country. Travelling through the night had been to their advantage as the roads were virtually empty and dawn was still an hour away.

  “Can you try and hide the stag, Larry?” Kenny muttered. “The police will ask questions if they see it in the back.”

  “You nuts or something?” Larry glowered at him in exasperation. “They’ll see it whether we cover it up or not. How on earth can I hide a beast that size?”

  “They’re going to ask us where we got it,” panicked Kenny, “and what are we going to say?”

  “We’ll … we’ll say it’s injured and that we’re taking it to the vet.”

  Kenny shot him a withering look. “Gerraway,” he said in disgust, “the police will never swallow that!”

  “Well, they can’t say we poached it,” Larry pointed out plaintively, “for the beast’s alive and there’s not a mark on it! Anyway,” he muttered as the van came to a halt, “it’s too late now!”

  Although the policeman who bent his head to scan the interior of the vehicle raised his eyebrows and blinked at the multi-coloured garb of the occupants, he did not, however, comment on the huge stag that crowded the back of the van. A surprised Kenny gulped and then bit back an expression of surprise as he cast a quick glance in his mirror; for the stag’s antlers, that had quite successfully been blocking his view out of the back window ever since Loch Lomond, seemed to have disappeared. He deliberately turned round and scanned the rear of the van as casually as he could and was totally speechless. Apart from their precious guitars and some drums and stuff, the back of the van was empty. The stag had gone, disappeared, vanished.

  Gathering his wits together, he concentrated on what the policeman was saying.

  “… several rock falls on the road. We’ve teams out clearing them so just drive slowly and carefully and you ought to be all right.”

  “Thanks, mate,” Larry replied nervously, doing his best to shield the back of the van, “we’ll keep our eyes open.”

  “There’s also,” and here the police officer looked worried, “there’s also been some sightings of these giants that seem to be appearing here and there in the Highlands. Don’t go anywhere near them, will you. We don’t know how dangerous they are yet.”

  “We’ll steer well clear of them, if we do see them,” Kenny assured him as he put the van into gear and, with a friendly wave, drove off.

  “I can’t believe it,” Larry said, “he never so much as mentioned the stag!”

  “He didn’t mention it ‘cos it isn’t there,” Kenny replied, glancing once again in his mirror. The van swerved violently as he saw that his view was once again obstructed by a spread of antlers.

  “Give over,” Larry grabbed at the dashboard, “will you look where you’re going?”

  “But … but the stag wasn’t there when the police stopped us,” Kenny stammered. “I looked in the back and it was empty!”

  “Well, it isn’t empty now,” Larry answered, looking back at the stag whose fine head and soft brown eyes regarded him steadily.

  “I made myself invisible,” Kalman said. “I thought it best.”

  “Cool,” Larry was impressed. “Wow, you really are a magician, then!”

  “What about those giants the police were on about?” Kenny asked, looking at the stag through the mirror. “It’ll be you they’re after, like?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Kalman admitted. “But don’t worry. If they spot me, I’ll get out and make a run for it. You’ll be alright … they’ve nothing against you.
It’s me they’re after and they’ll stop at nothing to get me.”

  Kenny looked at the dashboard anxiously. “I’ll have to get petrol soon,” he muttered. “We’re getting low.”

  “D’you have enough cash?” Larry’s question was anxious.

  Kenny looked worried. “Maybe we’ll find another twenty pound note,” he joked.

  “Yeah,” Larry looked dreamy, for the twenty pound note they’d found in the back of the glove compartment had not only bought them petrol at Crianlarich but they’d managed to treat themselves to a whacking fish supper with loads of chips.

  Kalman looked thoughtful. It hadn’t taken him long to gather that the Jelly Beans were virtually poverty stricken and managed to scrape by on a very meagre budget. He looked at them with more than a hint of admiration as he found their cheerfulness in the face of dire poverty, quite remarkable. They didn’t seem to mind, though, and after only ten minutes’ conversation it had become obvious that their music was everything to them. After downing the fish and chips hungrily, they’d taken their guitars out of the van and played him some of their best numbers, their thin faces intent and their feet stamping to the beat. Kalman had tried to look suitably impressed but knew that they weren’t all that good; in fact they weren’t even passably good. Kenny could only play a few chords on the guitar and Larry’s voice was weak. The only reason they carried things off was their obvious enthusiasm and infectious high spirits to say nothing of their ridiculous outfits. It was obvious, too, that the van was their home and the little money they made from what they called “gigs” seemed to go on petrol with very little left over for food. Kalman smiled. He was quite sure that they’d find another twenty pound note in the van — maybe more than one this time.

  “There are those police helicopters again,” Larry said, bending to look out of the windscreen. “Two of them this time. They’ve still got their searchlights on. Do you think there are more giants around?”

  Kenny, too, leant forward and peered upwards to where the helicopters quartered the mountainside in long swoops. He put his foot on the brake and clicked the headlights to full beam. If there were giants around then he wanted to have plenty of warning. They travelled in this way for a good few miles before a workman wearing a fluorescent jacket and waving a red flag, stopped them on a bend in the road.

  “There’s a fall of rock just round the corner,” the man said looking at them nervously as Kenny pulled up and rolled the window down. “It was one o’ yon giants,” he looked back over his shoulder, “we saw it collapse.”

  “Chose a right awkward spot, didn’t it,” Kenny remarked. “Good job you’re here or I’d have gone smack into it.”

  “Give us a few minutes and we’ll have it cleared,” the man said. “We’re just rolling the rocks and stuff to the side.”

  Kenny negotiated the bend carefully but the workmen had obviously been clearing the road for some time as, apart from a scatter of small rocks and clods of earth here and there, he had plenty of room to get round. It was the next bend that proved the problem for, as the van swept round it, a giant was waiting for them. Lunging at the vehicle, it waved a rocky arm that came crashing down with mighty force. Kenny swerved desperately so that it missed the roof but dealt the front mudguard a glancing blow that sent the van spinning and the giant reeling. Fortunately, nothing was coming in the opposite direction and as Kenny struggled to right the vehicle, the massive figure almost lost its balance.

  “Put your foot down,” Larry screamed as the giant finally found its feet and started after them. Kenny didn’t need to be told twice and pressed the accelerator to the floor. The road wound in sweeping curves along the base of the mountain and Kalman, using magic to see round corners, gave instructions. “Stay close to the side of the mountain,” he said sharply, “there’s a giant on the river side of the road.”

  Kenny held his breath as the van took the corner at speed and passed an astonished giant who was waiting, arms upraised, to flatten them with the huge boulder it held aloft. This gave them a lead of several minutes for it took the giant some time to turn itself round and give chase.

  There was a sudden noise overhead as two helicopters zoomed in on the van to give it cover. “There are two giants,” the pilot said into his radio, “massive things, the size of houses. They’re chasing a van at the moment. The fellow driving it is going like the clappers, I can tell you!”

  The pilot of the second helicopter sounded grim. “We’re going to have to stop them, Bill,” he said, his eyes following the lumbering figures of the giants. “They’re getting too close to that village for comfort. Can you imagine the damage they’ll cause if they go on the rampage in the streets?”

  “What do you suggest we do? We’re not armed!”

  “No, but they’re not very nifty on their feet, are they? If we buzz them, I reckon we could easily knock them off balance. What do you think?”

  “Roger. And we can use the loudspeakers as well! That might confuse them!”

  “Right, I’ll go in first!”

  Kenny and Larry ducked instinctively as the swirling blades of the rotors sounded loud overhead as the first helicopter banked in over the van and headed straight for the giants.

  “Would you look at that!” Kenny muttered through dry lips as he watched the attack in his mirrors. “They’re attacking the giants!”

  “For heaven’s sake, keep your foot down,” pleaded Larry. “This isn’t the time to hang around and watch!”

  Once again, the van took off at speed and so it was that, jesters hats askew, the petrified Jelly Beans rocketed off and it was only when they’d put a safe distance between the van and the giants that they pulled up at the side of the road and watched, stunned, as the helicopters attacked the massive figures.

  The giants ducked as the first helicopter headed straight for them, only lifting clear of their heads at the last moment. The second helicopter then banked in for the attack and using its loudspeakers at full blast, sent waves of shrieking sound round the stone figures. The giants had never known anything like it as, totally disorientated, they stepped aside to avoid the whirling rotors.

  The van was now forgotten at the sight of this new threat from the skies. The giants, of course, had no idea what helicopters were but their hatred of dragons was as old as the hills themselves and they had no hesitation in equating the two flying monsters in their minds. “Dragon! Dragon!” the giants growled in their deep, gravelly voices and looked around for rocks to throw at these monsters of the skies.

  However, they had no time to bend and pick up rocks. The deafening noise from the loudspeakers confused them and as the helicopters swirled, banked and attacked time after time, the inevitable happened. The giants lost their bearings completely and, in a grinding crash, cannoned into one another.

  “Gotcha!” the pilots were ecstatic as they banked and swooped triumphantly over the fallen bodies of the giants.

  The first battle had been won.

  16. Networking

  “You do believe me, don’t you?” Sir James said, eyeing George Tatler doubtfully.

  Tatler looked at him quizzically from under bushy eyebrows. In the course of his work for MI5, he had heard many strange stories in his time but few to rival those told by Sir James which were, by any standards, in a class of their own. “I wouldn’t believe everybody who told me a story like that,” he agreed, a trifle sardonically, “but then, James, nobody tells faery stories quite like you do. I haven’t forgotten last year!”

  Sir James relaxed and smiled as he thought of their adventures of the previous year when Prince Kalman had put Scotland under a tartan spell that had left Edinburgh looking like a cross between Brigadoon and Braveheart. Scotland, then, had really been something else …

  Tatler rose to his feet and moved to stand by the tall windows of Sir James’s office. “Actually,” he began, “when I first heard of the stone giants, I remembered Clara’s story of the Old Man of the Mountains and it crossed my mind that yo
u might be getting in touch with me. So, yes, James, I do believe you. Added to that, I’ve been getting reports fairly regularly about all the giants appearing in the Highlands.”

  Sir James joined him at the window and as they both stared speculatively at the steep, green slopes of Arthur’s Seat, Tatler shook his head. “Amazing, isn’t it, to think that the MacArthurs and Arthur live in there? Sometimes I just can’t believe it. Anyway, what are they saying about the stone giants?”

  “Well, the good news is that they’re not supposed to be vicious. All they want to do, according to the MacArthur, is walk about the Highlands in peace.”

  Tatler raised his eyebrows. “That doesn’t tie in with the reports I’ve been getting, James,” he disagreed. “Quite the contrary. The police in the Grampians are out in force. There are lots of giants on the roads up there. Actually, police helicopters were involved in a bit of a battle with the giants yesterday. They’re a danger to cars, lorries and buses; anything that moves. Anyway, go on. What else?”

  “From the sound of things, he thinks they’re still quite weak. If they had all their strength they wouldn’t be collapsing all over the place and they’d be much taller than the average house.”

  “I shouldn’t tell you this,” Tatler said, looking at him sideways, “but I know for a fact that Whitehall is discussing sending in the army to blast them out of existence.”

  “Hmmm, well, from what the MacArthur said, I doubt if that’ll make much difference. According to him, they could just re-form and rise again as another giant.”

  Tatler looked thoughtful. “I’ll pass that information on!”

  “There’s another problem, George,” Sir James eyed him somewhat anxiously, “maybe it’s part of the same problem as the giants. I’m not quite sure.”

  “Can’t they solve it by magic?” Tatler asked hopefully.

  “Magic seems to be at the root of it,” Sir James answered. He gestured vaguely. “I seem to learn a bit more about the MacArthurs each time I meet them. What I’ve now discovered is that they rely on an energy source to keep them alive. It’s called Firestar and it’s in a mountain in the Grampians called Morven.”