by J S Landor
Or so he thought.
The crab disappeared under a yellow buoy, one claw raised as if in a mock salute. Jack threw a stone after it. He hadn’t expected the tide to be out, or the harbour master’s office to be shut. And he certainly hadn’t thought all the hire boats would be gone, vanished like the windmills with the summer crowds.
‘Leave it to me,’ Jago had said. ‘Can’t do much about the tide, I’m afraid. But I’m sure I can find us a boat.’ And with that he’d disappeared inside the Lock and Quay Inn, from which he hadn’t returned.
Jack’s stomach rumbled. He pulled up his red hood against the chilly air and burrowed in his rucksack for one of Nan’s biscuits. Mmm. Lemon and crunchy sugar with a hint of … A pang of longing went through him. The mystery ingredient tasted of pancakes.
Overhead, the gulls circled closer and one cheeky individual landed on the stone bollard right next to him. Barely looking up, he threw it some crumbs, and instantly regretted it. Half a dozen birds descended, flapping and fighting and screeching madly.
‘Get lost! Shoo!’ he yelled, drumming his feet against the harbour wall. But the gulls wouldn’t leave him alone. The large pushy one came so close he could feel its wings fanning his face. He got up, retreating to a nearby bus shelter. Even then, the bird followed, settling on the roof above him with two others.
A burst of raucous laughter spilled out of the pub and his shoulders sagged. If Jago didn’t hurry up, there’d be no daylight left. He watched the woman with the pram finish her tour of the harbour and stop outside the grocery store. Glancing around, she parked the pram in front of the window and darted in, setting the doorbell jingling.
With a huff, Jack got the mirror out of the rucksack. His fingers traced a pattern over the tiny fish symbol and he thought about Lily. Soon he’d see the keeper and everything would be sorted: she and The Empress would be safe. It all seemed straightforward … So why did he keep getting this nagging feeling they’d met for some other reason?
A breeze lifted his hair and suddenly the gulls above him cried out in alarm. With a whoosh, the wind circled the shelter and sent them spinning into the sky.
Jack leant forwards, staring up after them. Despite their best efforts to escape, they were being dragged like toy kites from one side of the harbour to the other.
It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so violent. He looked around him. The trees were perfectly still and even the rattling of the boat rigging had died down. All the wind’s energy seemed to be directed at the gulls alone.
Was it something he’d done? He quickly hid the mirror in the pocket of his hoodie. The birds had been a nuisance and he’d got annoyed, but he hadn’t meant to punish them.
And then he saw him. Beyond the harbour master’s hut, there at the very end of the jetty, stood Alpha, his eyes locked like lasers on the cavorting gulls.
‘So it’s you,’ he muttered. It took a moment for what he was seeing to sink in. Then Jack was on his feet, running flat out in sheer delight.
At the sound of his footsteps, Alpha lowered his head and immediately the birds scattered, blown away like scraps of paper, their misery at an end.
It was as if the wolf had conjured the wind just to get his attention. Although now he had it, he’d grown visibly nervous. As Jack reached the jetty, Alpha’s tail dropped and he started to back away. Desperate not to frighten him, Jack slowed down, glad for once of the black gym shoes which allowed him to tiptoe softly across the wooden duckboards. Without meaning to, he had Alpha cornered.
Nothing moved, the wind barely sighed, and Jack became conscious of a great hush all around. It felt as if he’d stepped through an invisible curtain into another realm. ‘You can’t befriend a wolf,’ Jago had said. But Jack couldn’t help himself. This was no ordinary wolf and he was going to try.
He’d advanced almost halfway along the jetty when Alpha gave a low growl. It wasn’t loud, more of a warning rumble at the back of his throat, but Jack dropped instantly to his knees, making himself small. ‘It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.’
Ears twitching, Alpha put his nose to the ground, drawing Jack’s scent towards him. He lifted one paw tentatively.
Jack’s eyes closed. Come on, you can do it, he urged. I won’t move a muscle.
A second later he heard the click of claws on wood. A wet nose touched his palm, his chin and then his cheek. It was all he could do to stop himself laughing out loud. And when he finally opened his eyes, Alpha’s broad face was so close he could see himself reflected in his pupils.
‘You made it!’ he whispered.
Alpha bowed his head. Without thinking, Jack reached out to touch the patch of dark fur between his eyes. The wolf flinched but didn’t pull away, and very gently Jack let his hand fall over the great ruff framing his face. Alpha’s coat was remarkable, soft and luxurious underneath, with a layer of tough guard hairs on top: some jet black, some pure white, others grey and tan, and a few of burnt gold.
‘Those people at the station said you were bad. But you’re not, are you? You were only trying to help.’
Alpha stood quietly, his ears flicking forwards to listen.
‘Look at this.’ Jack reached into his hoodie for the mirror. ‘See the symbol here? Alpha – that’s you!’
The amber eyes gleamed. At the mention of his name, Alpha’s tail moved from side to side, and he nudged the mirror with his nose.
‘You were there when he made it, weren’t you? It’s like a puzzle. A and M, one and infinity, Alpha and the Magus. Did you blow your magic into it?’
Every hair on Alpha’s body seemed to bristle proudly, making him look enormous.
‘I wish you could tell me. Because if I’m wrong and this is destructive, I can’t change anything.’
The wolf whined.
‘What is it?’
Alpha’s front paws twitched. He was having to control every nerve and muscle just to keep still.
‘There is a way you can tell me, isn’t there?’ said Jack. ‘You control the wind. You can speak with that! Go on, then. If there’s any good in this mirror of yours, why don’t you show me?’
Alpha lifted his muzzle, sniffing at the air as if to catch the scent and meaning of Jack’s words. Then his eyes flicked to the quayside. Instantly, a breeze stirred, gathering force around the two of them and gusting across the harbour so fast that Jack had to lean back to stop himself falling over.
A trickle of water appeared, the first hint of an incoming tide, and the boats shifted restlessly on the mud. Their rigging rattled, the sign at the Lock and Quay clanged and a dustbin in the high street fell over, tipping its contents into the gutter.
Outside the store, the pram rocked backwards and forwards on its springs and a pair of pink arms stretched upwards for attention. Then, as the wind moaned louder, the rocking grew fiercer until, with a noisy ping, the brake on the back wheel gave way and the pram began to roll down the hill.
‘Alpha, no!’ yelled Jack. ‘What are you doing?’
The wolf laid his ears against his head and snarled. For a moment it looked as if he might attack, then he backed away. With three or four big strides, he raced back along the jetty and launched himself into the rushing tide.
Jack didn’t have time to see what had become of him because he was running too, running faster than he’d ever done in his life before. The pram rattled and bounced across the uneven stones and above the noise he heard the baby wail.
He didn’t know if he would make it in time. Then, just as the pram reached the harbour wall and the first wheel left the ground, he was there, snatching at the silver handle, his lungs fit to explode. Below him, the water bubbled and swirled, pouring into every nook and cranny on the harbour floor. He tugged the pram back and hung on to it, fighting for breath.
‘Sshh, sshh, you’re okay,’ he panted.
But the screaming baby refused t
o be comforted. Two little fists grasped hopelessly at the air and with every yell its whole body shuddered.
In desperation, Jack pulled the mirror from his pocket, holding it to the light so that it sparkled and winked. Almost immediately, the cries subsided and ten tiny fingers grabbed at the edge of it. With surprising strength, they pulled the mirror close.
A pair of sky-blue eyes shone up at him, reflecting the fish symbol from the disc. With a tingle of recognition, he stared at the white blonde lashes.
‘Lily?’ he whispered.
The lashes blinked. Beads of tears slid down one rosy cheek onto the cotton pillow beneath and where they fell, something familiar caught his attention. Hand-sewn in black and gold thread, a lion’s head roared above a family crest.
Stunned, he glanced around the harbour. Had Alpha intended this? His memory rewound to his first trip to Osmaston Hall. While Jago had been busy painting, he’d spotted a figure at an upstairs window … someone cradling a white bundle …
Lily chuckled and all of a sudden the mirror flashed, glowing brighter than ever before. For a second she looked startled. But instead of crying, she grasped the disc tighter and laughed again, completely unafraid.
Jack took a deep breath. When the tugging began, he let his mind go quiet. This time he was more than ready. This time he would trust the magic, because he was finally beginning to see that Alpha was behind everything.
Chapter 27
He found himself standing on exactly the same spot on the quayside. But the pram had disappeared and the place felt decidedly different. It was morning for a start; the sun was high in the sky and the air smelled clean and sweet like it had just rained. The roofs glistened and water ran down the street gutters, spilling into the sea which lapped against the harbour wall.
A white delivery van drew up outside the Lock and Quay, splashing through a puddle. Its brakes squealed and a pop tune Jack didn’t recognise blared from the cab.
‘Easter holidays, is it?’ called the driver as he hopped out. ‘All right for some!’
Jack smiled and waited for him to disappear. Then slowly – very slowly – he turned round, scanning every window, every doorway. Lily was here somewhere, she had to be. She’d known who he was on the ship. She’d even mentioned seeing him on the quay.
If she really was a Harington, there’d been no sign of her when he’d toured Osmaston Hall with Jago. So for some reason, their paths were meant to cross here. Alpha had made sure of it.
The doorbell of the grocery store jingled. A middle-aged man emerged, a newspaper tucked under his arm and a white terrier yapping at his feet.
Jack glanced past him, along the high street and back to the quay where his eyes settled on the bus shelter. A girl in a long jumper and purple leggings sat cross-legged on the bench inside. She was scribbling at something with such energy her blonde hair swung about her face like a curtain.
She looked up briefly and stared straight at him. It was obvious she didn’t recognise him. But there could be no mistaking her. Perched like an elf on a toadstool, she seemed younger than on the ship, her features slightly rounder, her hair a fraction shorter: Lily.
He hurried towards her, suddenly hopeful. What if he could do something, here and now, to alter her future? There must be a way. He thought of Jago’s time trick on the train. If only he could send events down another track.
‘Hullo!’ he blurted. ‘What’re you doing? Can I see?’
Several sheets of paper cascaded to the ground.
Startled, Lily dived after them, her face turning crimson. ‘Um, I dunno. They’re not very good. I don’t think you’ll –’
‘Here, let me help. I’m Jack, by the way. Jack Tideswell.’
As he spoke his name, the wind gusted and three brightly coloured drawings sailed over his head, narrowly escaping his clutches as he leapt to catch them.
‘Oh nooo,’ groaned Lily.
‘Hang on!’ he shouted.
He had to run fast. Two of the pictures had already flipped and cavorted out to sea, while the third landed near the jetty, its corners curling in the breeze. Once, twice, three times he pounced as it skipped along the duckboards and settled just out of reach.
‘Stop it, wolf!’ he muttered. He trapped the drawing with his foot and frowned at the distant hills. ‘I know you’re there. I don’t need ...’
He looked down.
‘... proof.’ Beneath his gym shoe lay a crayoned sketch of the Pentland lighthouse. In the bottom right-hand corner, Lily had signed it: ‘L Harington, age 6½.’
‘Thanks,’ she said shyly when he returned.
‘I like the fish in the sea,’ he replied. Every single one looked like the symbol on the mirror.
‘Oh, them. They’re just for fun. It’s the lighthouse that’s important. I can’t get the spective right.’
Jack gave a knowing nod, despite having no idea what she meant. Then it dawned on him. ‘Ah! Per-spective.’ It seemed a long word for a small child.
‘Uh-huh. See how close it is to the quay? I made it too big.’ Lily put her head on one side. ‘And it’s leaning over.’
‘Looks fine to me.’ He decided to show off too. ‘I’d say that’s artistic licence.’
She squinted at him.
‘It’s where you bend the rules. You know, stretch the truth a bit.’ He put his fists together, then prized them apart like a body builder with a chest expander. ‘I’ve got a friend who’s a painter. He does it all the time.’
‘No way. That’s terrible!’
‘Why?’
‘Because … what if a building fell down?’
Now it was Jack’s turn to look confused.
‘I can’t do wobbly drawings,’ said Lily.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘When I’m an architect!’
‘Oh, I see!’
‘What’s so funny?’
‘Nothing.’
A hurt look filled Lily’s face. She screwed up the picture and threw it on the ground.
‘Hey, I wasn’t laughing at you.’
Her eyes flashed at him.
‘Honest! It’s just the idea you could make a building fall over by …’
Her lower lip trembled.
‘You’re right. An architect has to be accurate,’ he said swiftly.
‘Ex-actly.’ She folded her arms. ‘And I’m rubbish!’
It wasn’t a promising start. Jack wisely decided to hold his tongue. He retrieved the crumpled picture and flattened it on the bench between them, while Lily swung her legs furiously. The lighthouse was tilting, as she’d pointed out, but it looked solid and reassuring on its rock of grey. And somehow the way it leant over the sea gave it a friendly feel, like a stooping giant. The fish rushed up towards it as if they were about to leap into the sky … And now he looked more closely, he could see another creature: a mermaid.
A tingle ran through him. ‘This is brilliant! You’ve got imagination. If you ask me, that’s much more important than being precise. You have to let your mind soar. How else will you get a big idea?’
The legs stopped swinging.
‘Imagination is the most powerful muscle in your body,’ he said grandly. It was one of the few things he could remember his father saying. ‘It gets you from A to B. Everyone has to picture the future to make things happen, right?’
There was no answer so he ploughed on. ‘I can see you now, sitting in your office in one of those big leather chairs. You know, the sort that swivels? And –’
He broke off. Lily was scribbling with a blue crayon. She had already covered half a sheet of paper with an image he vaguely recognised.
‘I draw this one a lot,’ she said. ‘But it’s hard to get right.’ Her hand flicked across the page as if by working fast she could capture something elusive. ‘In the morning when I wake up, I
keep my eyes shut. Then I see it. The dome floats in the sea like a bubble. It’s so blue you don’t notice it at first.’
Stunned, Jack gazed from the sketch to Lily. She’d produced a rough version of his screensaver, from a bird’s eye view. Until now, he’d never noticed that the twelve supporting feet resembled the hours on a clock face.
‘It’s like a watch,’ he murmured.
‘I know … but it’s something else. Can you guess?’ Around the dome, Lily drew a thick blue circle like a dial. ‘This is a glass tunnel. For people to look out.’
Jack didn’t need to be told. The details were imprinted in his memory. What made his mind spin was the knowledge that the image on his computer hadn’t been some random graphic after all. The mirror and Lily were somehow connected. It had shown him a preview of the building that was unfolding in front of him.
‘It’s a lighthouse. Obviously,’ he managed to say.
‘Yes! What do you think? Like it?’
‘I love it. You’re a genius. When did you have this brainwave?’
‘I dunno.’ Lily blew out her cheeks, popping first one, then the other. She tapped her head. ‘It’s been in here – like – for ever. I’m a doodler, Mum says. It started ages ago.’
Goosebumps crept down Jack’s spine. He thought of the ten tiny fingers gripping the mirror in the pram. Before their leap, the disc had flashed so brightly … Something told him it hadn’t only downloaded the graphic to his computer. It had transferred the idea to Lily, too.
His eyes flicked to the hillside. Was this why Alpha had brought them together? Something about this fantastic, crazy design was important.
He grabbed the crayon and screwed up his eyes to picture the screensaver. ‘Make the spire taller. And how about it doesn’t just float? You could make the whole thing move.’ He added some waves. ‘What’s it called? Have you got a name?’
