by Anne Forbes
“I’m sure he must have wanted to tell you about them, Shona,” Lord Rothlan added, “but I’m afraid we’d sworn him to secrecy long before you were born.”
“Oh,” Shona said in tones of relief, “that’s all right, then. He couldn’t break his word, could he?”
“No, he couldn’t,” Lady Ellan smiled, glad that the matter was resolved.
As the hobgoblins fussed happily round Shona, Clara whispered to Neil. “It’s fantastic here, Neil, but what about the Fergusons? They’ll be out of their minds with worry by this time.”
Lady Ellan heard her and shook her head. “Don’t worry, Clara,” she said. “You know that our time is different from yours and although it might feel as though you’ve spent hours with us, none of your time will have passed at all. When you get home, you’ll find that the Fergusons won’t have missed you.”
“They’re going to ask lots of questions, though,” Lewis pointed out. “They must have heard the explosion from the mountain and seen the stream of light from the top.”
Lord Rothlan shook his head. “I think you’ll find that no one in the glen will remember what happened today.”
“We’ve put a magic spell on the glen,” Lady Ellan smiled, seeing Shona’s startled face, “and talking of magic …,” she unfastened a velvet bag that hung at her waist and drew out a firestone, “you are going to need this to leave the mountain.”
“Firestones,” Lewis said, pulling on the thin gold chain so that Shona could see the amber stone that hung round his neck.
“Neil, Clara and Lewis all have firestones,” smiled Lady Ellan, “and I’m sure they’ll tell you all about them when you get home. This is yours,” she said, handing Shona a chain with a firestone threaded through it. “Please guard it well.”
Shona looked at the magic stone in awe. “It seems to have a light in the middle,” she said.
“That’s part of Arthur’s fire,” Neil explained. “That’s why they’re called firestones.”
When they had once again thanked the Lords of the North and Arthur and Amgarad for their rescue, Lady Ellan told them to join hands in a circle. Then, straightening her arm, she’d murmured the words of a spell and, in an instant, they found themselves in the garden of Glenmorven House.
Helen Ferguson looked up with a smile as they trooped into the kitchen, suddenly realizing that they were ravenously hungry.
“Did you get the kitten, Shona?” she asked.
Shona nodded and held out a drowsy little cat who had had quite enough excitement for one day.
“I thought you said she was ugly?” she queried. “She’s beautiful. A bit of Persian in there somewhere, I should say.”
Clara looked at Ugly Mug closely. “Gosh, she is pretty! Look at her!”
“Jennifer won’t be able to call her Ugly Mug any more,” Lewis laughed, “not with a face like that.”
After an enormous dinner, they all trooped into the garden. Shona could hardly believe it had all happened. The only thing that proved she wasn’t dreaming was the beautiful firestone that hung round her neck. She looked at it again and saw the glint of dragon fire that lurked in its amber depths.
“Come on,” she said, “let’s visit Hughie! I want him to know that we can see the hobgoblins too! He’ll be really pleased.”
28. Prince Kalman Returns
Resting gratefully on the crest of a ridge, its body quivering with fatigue, the great stag was almost spent. Kalman, equally exhausted, suffered with it. Several of the huge rocks that the giants had thrown at them in the course of their frantic flight had, more by luck than design, managed to hit home. Indeed, the result would have been little short of disastrous had it not been for his magic. Even then, the stag was a sorry sight; blood ran down the side of its face from a deep gash, one of its hind legs dragged awkwardly and broken antlers hung crazily over its neck.
Ever since he’d left Kenny, Larry and the van, the giants had been after him, rising from the mountains when he’d least expected it and all the time trying to force him over mountain tops and through glens that would have led him away from Morven. Eventually, he’d managed to give them the slip but the rumble of noise from the next glen told him that they were still far too close for comfort.
Nevertheless, his heart swelled in relief as he looked through the stag’s brown eyes at the homely, familiar shape of the mountain that reared before them. Morven! He could hardly believe it! They’d made it at last!
His eyes scanned the valley anxiously. No giants so far, he thought, his eyes resting on the towers of Morven Castle, the white gleam of the Ferguson’s house and the sweep of trees round Hughie’s cottage, tucked in the shelter of a sloping bank.
It was then that he saw Amgarad swooping through the air towards the mountain. His eyes widened in surprise as he followed the bird’s flight. Amgarad! That must mean that Lord Rothlan was in Morven, for the bird rarely left him. His spirits rose at the thought for much as he disliked him, Rothlan, unlike Lord Alarid and the other doddering old lords, was decisive, competent and efficient. If Alasdair Rothlan were there, then there was a chance that Firestar could be saved. Suddenly, the distinctive shape of a dragon appeared out of the gathering gloom. Arthur, the prince thought. He was obviously following Amgarad and also bound for Morven. Now what was he doing so far north — and who was he carrying? He could see that there were children on his back and his lips twisted grimly as he guessed that Neil and Clara were probably amongst them. But who was the other one? He counted at least three and looked decidedly puzzled as he watched the eagle and the dragon disappear into the slopes of the mountain.
The knowledge that Rothlan was in Morven, however, gave his spirits the lift they needed. Not long now, Kalman assured the stag as it picked its way towards Hughie’s cottage. Keep going, just a little further … just keep going …
By the time they reached the cottage, the stag was barely able to walk but it knew instinctively that come what may, it had to reach the slopes of the mountain. Wearily, Kalman led its footsteps round the side of the little house to the foot of the towering peak and as the beast collapsed in the heather, Firestar’s magic reached out to it and gave it comfort.
Hughie, who had caught sight of the stag from his kitchen window, watched in wonder as a familiar figure demerged from its back. He stiffened in amazement. Surely it was Prince Kalman, he thought. It was years since he’d last seen him but there was no mistaking the long fair hair and clean-cut features. Instead of making his way to the cottage as Hughie expected, however, Kalman threw himself flat on the heather beside the stag, his arms outstretched and his face hard against the earth.
Firestar immediately responded to his need and greedily he absorbed its magic until he could hold no more. His eyes closed in relief and his heart sang; to have his power back, to be strong again; for an instant, tears clouded his eyes at the wonder of it. Thankfully, he breathed in the fresh smell of the earth and would have lain longer had the stag beside him not scrambled to its feet. He, too, rose and reaching out to the stag, drew it towards him and murmured the words of a hex. At the touch of his fingers the wound on its face healed, the broken antlers righted themselves and its injured leg straightened; in little more than a few seconds, it was whole again. Knowing the threat of the hunter’s gun, Kalman also put a protective shield round it. After the perils of their journey, he thought, it was the least he could do and he raised his hand in salute, watching with a half smile as the great beast tossed its head in thanks and turned to the slopes of the mountain.
As the stag made its way upwards over the heather and rough grass, Kalman, for an instant, stood straight and tall. Stretching out his arms, he used his new-found magic to cast another hex. It was a powerful hex and, under normal circumstances, should have taken him straight into the Court of the Lords of the North. Nothing, however, happened. He gave a curious, twisted smile. Firestar might have restored his magic but it would not admit him to Morven. He was still an outcast.
Hughie o
pened the kitchen door and waited as the prince turned and made his way towards him.
“Prince Kalman!” he said curiously, “are you all right?”
Kalman nodded. “I’m fine,” he said tiredly, “but you’ll have to hide me, Hughie. There are giants after me.”
“And the stag?” Hughie’s gaze lifted towards the mountain.
“He’ll be all right,” Kalman assured him. “He’s a fine animal. He’s brought me all the way from Argyll …”
“Argyll?” Hughie echoed in amazement, knowing the length of their journey.
“We travelled in a van part of the way,” Kalman admitted, “with a couple of youngsters who called themselves the Jelly Beans.” He smiled wryly. “They fancied themselves as pop stars.”
“That wouldn’t be Kenny and Larry, would it?” Hughie looked at him in surprise. “The radio’s been broadcasting nothing else. They were chased by giants and had their van smashed up. They’re real heroes, the pair of them!”
Kalman almost smiled. “Nothing would have happened to them, Hughie, I made sure of that, but yes, in another way, they are real heroes.”
Hughie looked at the prince anxiously as he made his way into the long, low kitchen and collapsed into an armchair by the fire, relaxing in its warmth.
“I was just going to have supper,” Hughie offered, eyeing him questioningly. “I’ll lay another place, shall I?”
Kalman nodded. “Actually, I’m starving,” he admitted.
It was only when the prince had finished eating that Hughie ventured a question. “What happened?” he asked. “May I know?”
Kalman gave a twisted smile. “Firestar is in danger, Hughie,” he said, “I’ve come to warn Lord Alarid.”
Hughie looked at him doubtfully. The hobgoblins were a gossipy lot and always kept him up to date on the affairs of the Lords of the North. He knew perfectly well that Prince Kalman ranked as an outcast. However, it wouldn’t do to say so. “Morven sort of exploded this afternoon,” he said slowly, “did you know?”
“I felt it,” Kalman said, wincing at the thought.
“I haven’t seen Rumbletop to find out what happened,” Hughie admitted.
“There’s a lot going on in Morven that they don’t know about, Hughie,” Kalman rose from the chair and paced the floor. “I must get a message through to Alarid and warn him of his danger.”
“But I thought …” Hughie broke off uncertainly.
“The message I carry to the Lords of the North is more important than my quarrel with them.”
“I still don’t understand. Why can’t you just magic yourself into the mountain?”
Kalman’s eyes dropped. “I tried,” he admitted, his face flushing. “I tried, but the mountain wouldn’t let me in,” he said. “You must know that the Lords of the North cast me out and my father and I …” he tailed off, “we don’t speak to one another any more.”
“It might not be that,” Hughie said, frowning. “Rumblegudgeon told me that Lord Alarid has put a protective shield round Morven.”
“A protective shield wouldn’t keep me out, Hughie. I’m still a Lord of the North. Was it put in place to keep out the giants?”
“No … yes … at least, I don’t think so. Jamie Robertson let the castle to some Americans and ever since they’ve been here, they’ve been trying to get into the mountain. So Lord Alarid put a shield round it.”
The prince looked vaguely surprised at the mention of Americans but dismissed them from his mind as he concentrated on the matter in hand. “I’m banking on you now, Hughie,” he said. “You got into the mountain as a boy and there was no magic in you when you appeared before us all those years ago. I want you to take my message into the hill. Is the way still open? Could you do it, do you think?”
Hughie knew that he couldn’t refuse. Come what may, he had to try although his heart sank within him at the thought of the desperately dangerous route he’d taken as a youngster — for without the strength of youth, he doubted if he’d manage the passages, ravines and sheer cliffs that lay inside the mountain. “Of course, I’ll go,” he said reassuringly, “but I’m an old man now, Prince Kalman and there’s little strength left in me. I’d probably need some of your magic to help me through.”
The prince shook his head. “I’m afraid my magic wouldn’t help you,” he said stiffly. “Not the way things are at the moment.”
Hughie looked downcast but then his eyes brightened. “If all you want is a message passed on to the old lords, wouldn’t it be easier if you just gave it to Rumbletop or one of the other hobgoblins?”
“I could do that, I suppose,” Kalman mused, considering the option.
It was at this moment that the door burst open and Shona ran into the room followed by Lewis, Neil and Clara.
“Hughie,” Shona cried, “we’ve just been inside the mountain and Lord Rothlan told us that … that you …” she paused at the sight of the gorgeously attired prince who had swung round sharply as she’d entered. He now stood rigid, his face a frozen mask but his eyes hooded as they looked beyond her and met those of Neil and Clara. There was a deathly silence.
“Prince Kalman!” Clara gasped.
29. Kalman’s Tale
Hughie looked from Prince Kalman to the frightened faces of the children. That they could see the prince at all came as a shock to him but that they should be afraid of him was little short of astounding.
“What’s all this?” he asked, startled. “Do you know the prince?”
“I’ll deal with this, Hughie,” Kalman said stiffly. “Neil, Clara, please sit down,” he commanded, gesturing to Hughie’s worn but comfortable armchairs.
Shona looked at Hughie doubtfully. “Do you want us to go, Hughie?”
“No,” the prince ordered, “you will stay.” He looked at Neil. “Who are your friends, Neil? And how can they see me?”
“We were in Morven this afternoon,” Neil answered. “Lady Ellan gave Shona a firestone. Lewis already has one.”
Lewis bowed to the prince. “I’m pleased to meet you at last, Prince Kalman,” he said evenly. “Your father told me about you.”
Kalman raised his eyebrows. “Did he indeed,” he said, disdainfully.
Lewis felt such a rush of anger that his eyes blazed furiously. Hughie took one look at his face and, grabbing his arm, pushed him into a chair. “Save your arguments for later,” he advised, “there are more important things afoot at the moment.”
Neil and Clara perched nervously on the edge of their chairs while Shona sat down on the settee, looking round-eyed at Prince Kalman. The prince, Clara thought, looked ill. He was still as arrogant as ever but his robes were stained in places and torn round the hem. As she had never seen him in clothes that were anything less than immaculate she knew that whatever had happened, he hadn’t come out of it well.
In a swirl of velvet, the prince moved in front of the fire as though drawing comfort from its warmth and looked at them.
“I need your help,” he said abruptly.
Neil looked thunderstruck. This was the last thing he had expected to hear from the lips of the prince. “You!” he said in startled amazement, “you need our help?”
Kalman frowned and shot a glance at Hughie.
“I think Prince Kalman would like you to deliver a message,” Hughie said, “to the Lords of the North.”
There was a silence. It was Clara who broke it. “But … you are a Lord of the North, Prince Kalman,” she said, her face puzzled. “Why do you need us to help you?”
“Morven is forbidden to me,” the prince said shortly, “but you can enter. You’re wearing your firestones, aren’t you?”
Neil and Clara nodded.
“You say you’ve just been in the hill,” the prince continued. “You must know that there have been two attacks on Firestar.” He looked directly at Neil. “Morven is in great danger,” the prince said. “There is a new force in the world of magic. It is hidden inside Firestar and is feeding on its power. The Cri�
��achan are its friends.”
“The giants!” Clara gasped.
“They’re your friends, too, milord,” Neil pointed out, remembering how Kalman had raised the Old Man of the Mountains against them in Hell’s Glen.
The prince smiled sourly. “They were my friends,” he admitted, “but they have turned against me. This new wizard, this Malfior,” he almost spat the word out, “has promised them many things.” He gestured vaguely. “Instead of being tied to the mountains, unable to move, he has returned them to their old way of life. You must have heard that they’re able to walk freely through the glens. Not only that, he has promised Cri’achan Mòr a new, wonderful home for the giants in the halls of Morven. That’s why they’re on the move; they’ve come to claim Morven as their own.”
There was a stunned silence. Everyone believed the prince implicitly and were horrified at his words.
“That’s … that’s awful!” Neil said. “The Lords of the North think they’re safe!”
The prince inclined his head. “That is the message I wish you to take to Lord Alarid,” he said. His lips twisted in a rueful smile. “And you can also tell Alasdair Rothlan that I am relying on him to rid Firestar of this Malfior.”
Neil and Clara looked at one another doubtfully. “The thing is,” Neil said, “we didn’t get into the mountain by ourselves. Arthur took us there. Couldn’t you magic us in?”
Kalman shook his head. “No,” he muttered. “No, I can’t.”
It was then that Lewis muttered the magic word. “Yasran,” he said softly as he rubbed his ring and disappeared.
Hughie started in amazement as Lewis suddenly vanished into thin air, Shona jumped up from the settee in alarm. Neil glanced at Clara in relief, however, knowing that Lewis must have gone to bring Prince Casimir. Much the best thing, he thought.
Kalman swung round and even as his glance focused on the empty chair, his father appeared with Lewis beside him.
