Jack Shian and the Destiny Stone

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Jack Shian and the Destiny Stone Page 3

by Andrew Symon


  Jack wondered about getting up and repeating what his father had said about Tula island; but a stern look and a slow shake of the head from his father changed his mind.

  What’s he got to hide? thought Jack. We’re all in this together, aren’t we? He resolved not to mention his vision of Ploutter’s death – for now.

  “Your first stop will be Nebula,” stated Luka. “There you must consult the Hebseelie Court, for with their help you will find other allies.”

  “Where’s Nebula?” hissed Petros. “Sounds bloody uncivilised to me.”

  Jack shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t care where it was; just so long as they got going; but he could sense Petros’ reluctance.

  “Those who sail north will begin training tomorrow,” stated Marco. “Your enemy is formidable; but know too that you have right on your side.”

  “The next few weeks will be tough,” added Enda sternly. “Only those who prove themselves, and those with a special role to play, may come.”

  I’m not missing out on that, thought Jack.

  “And now,” proclaimed Luka, “I see that the merging of day and night is almost upon us. Would Phineas please come forward?”

  Jack frowned as his father got up.

  What’s this about?

  Phineas seemed to know what was required, for he stepped smartly forward, and knelt before Luka. Armina rose too, and stood behind the kneeling figure.

  “You all know how Phineas was kept by the Grey for ten years,” announced Luka. “When Jack rescued him, he was at the point of death. But Jack’s determination, and his love, won through.”

  He placed his hands on Phineas’ head, at which Armina did the same. There was an expectant hush; people stood up to see what was happening.

  For a moment there was a silence; then a soft shimmering sound, like faraway thunder.

  Jack looked on with fascination. What’s going on? He glanced over at Marco, who was looking straight back at him. Marco smiled.

  And then Phineas stood up; shook himself, and stepping forward reached under his chair for his sword. Grasping it firmly, he swirled it around his head with a flourish, before looking over to Jack. His eyes were beaming.

  Jack started forward, hesitantly at first. He reached his father, glancing nervously around at the expectant crowd.

  Phineas stuck the sword into the soft ground, knelt down and looked Jack straight in the eyes. Jack saw for the first time that his father had the same piercing right blue eye as him.

  “I’m back.”

  4

  Sabotage

  Each day now was a punishing routine of physical exercises, boat drills, and cleaning. Enda and Marco had been clear at the equinox feast: they were up against vicious enemies, and the boat journey north was not for the faint-hearted. But why do boats have to be kept so clean?

  Still, Jack knew he couldn’t complain. The mainland was not an option yet; and there was no sign of the low road opening up. So, boats it was. Heading north, and just as autumn turns towards winter. Exactly what the Shian people don’t do. Or at least, the Seelie people.

  Space on the boats was limited, and there was competition for places. Jack knew all the Shian who’d come from Edinburgh; but people had escaped from all over. Jack had an uneasy feeling as they trained each day: could everyone be trusted?

  Jack enjoyed the sword practice; but the physical training was exhausting. Almost all the others were bigger than him, and Jack secretly worried that he wouldn’t be judged strong enough.

  Ossian relished the training, and took great delight in showing off his considerable sailing skills to Morrigan, who, for her part, seemed besotted. Fenrig made no attempt to conceal his disdain, and spent most days sulkily going through his tasks.

  “I like this,” shouted Rana across to Lizzie as the two of them sat on the quayside and sewed patches onto torn sails. She glanced surreptitiously over at Dermot to make sure he had heard. There was no way she was getting left behind when the boats left.

  “D’you think they’ll let us?” whispered Lizzie, as her sister came over.

  “They’d better.” Rana huddled down with Lizzie under a sail as a squall blew up. “After all the work we’ve done on the boats. Besides, they’ll need someone to help around.”

  “I’m not so sure. And Mum’s never going to agree.”

  “We’ll just have to show them we’ve got the skills they need,” huffed Rana. “It’s up to Mum to stop us if she can.”

  “It’s going to be cold.” Lizzie shivered in anticipation. “Winter on an open boat’ll be freezing.”

  “Gilmore’s making us special warm clothes; I heard him telling Barassie. And we’re not going to spend the whole time on the boats. Enda said the islands are safe: we’ll be able to sleep ashore most nights.”

  “Hope so.” Lizzie was clearly less thrilled than her sister at the prospect of the journey north.

  The rain eased off, and she threw the sail aside.

  “Have you heard?” asked Jack as he came and sat with them. “Arvin and Daid have arrived. They were using a human car on the mainland.”

  “Where were they hiding?” asked Lizzie. “Are they all right?”

  “They hid out with some human musicians Daid knows near Lomond. Even the humans have noticed something’s up. Daid showed me one of their newspapers – ‘Climate chaos’ it said.”

  “It’d be nice to have Arvin on the boat,” mused Rana. “I mean, he’d be able to play music to us while we were sailing.”

  “You still planning on coming, then?” Jack tried to sound nonchalant.

  “Why? You heard who’s going?”

  “No, but there’s going to be seven boats; so that means about sixty. And Enda said you had to prove yourself if you wanted on.”

  “Well, we’re being useful, aren’t we? There’s more to life on a boat than hauling ropes and sails. Who’s going to cook, for instance?”

  As long as it’s not your mum, thought Jack.

  “Come on you lot; break time’s over.”

  A new arrival slapped Jack playfully on the shoulder as he passed. Jack eyed him suspiciously. He said he’d come from near Eildon, but he’d arrived alone, and nobody really seemed to know who he was.

  But then that goes for lots of people here.

  As the day of departure drew near, autumn gripped the island. Glorious golds and browns transformed the landscape, but they came at a price. Bitter winds blew in from the Atlantic, and squally showers became longer and more frequent. Despite this, there was a growing sense of excitement. Who would be chosen to go?

  “I’ll be all right,” announced Ossian carelessly as the apprentices gathered in the field for supper on the eve of departure. “I know some people on these islands.”

  “Can’t you say you have to take us?” asked Jack, without any real conviction.

  “It’s no’ up to me. You heard Enda: everyone who goes has to have a reason.”

  “I suppose Morrigan’s got a reason, then?”

  Rana’s question was both a challenge and a rebuke, but Ossian refused to rise to the bait.

  “She’s handy enough around a boat. And you never know: we might end up needin’ some Brashat when it comes to takin’ on the Kildashie.”

  Aye, right, thought Jack.

  “Can I have your attention, please!”

  Marco’s voice was loud and authoritative, and the Shian crowd fell silent.

  “Tomorrow, some of you will leave on your quest. You know by now that Luka and I only rarely interfere directly in Shian affairs. We have tried to guide you, and prepare you. But the task is yours to accomplish.”

  “We thank you for your guidance, and your hospitality,” replied Enda.

  “The McCools’ sailing expertise will prove invaluable in the weeks ahead.” Luka stood now and faced the assembled throng. “There are seven boats; two will be exclusively for their own use, and they will crew the others; that leaves twenty-four places.”

  “We have wat
ched all of you in the last few weeks, and know what we need,” announced Dermot. “But first, you must understand our quest. We seek the help of the Hebseelie Court. They have no cause with the Kildashie, but neither do they like to leave their islands.”

  “You may know of the Hebseelie’s reputation,” said Enda. “We ourselves met some of them earlier this year. To persuade them to join us will not be easy; but we have no option. The Unseelie threat grows by the day, as Sandy of the Stone will confirm.”

  Jack had seen little of his grandfather in the preceding weeks. And when he had seen him, Grandpa Sandy had been busy, discussing matters with Marco, Luka and Enda; or helping Armina with her preparations – for there was no doubt that she would be one of the travellers.

  “The Hebseelie Court holds the key,” stated Grandpa. His voice was strong, and there was no sign now of the debilitating Phosphan curse that had so weakened him. “Although Seelie, they are mistrustful of people from the mainland. To persuade them to join us, we need to retrieve a treasure lost by them many years ago: a flag, held by the humans. Some of you may have learnt this story from Murkle.”

  Nope, thought Jack. One of many things I can’t remember from Murkle’s lessons.

  “To get the flag, we will need the help of the giant Caskill; and to get his help, we must find a charmstone. That is our first task.”

  “You will need the island Shian,” agreed Marco. “But not only from the west. You must also recruit the Norseelie: united, you will be a powerful force.”

  “A few islanders and us against the Kildashie and all their allies?” cried a voice from the crowd. “And in the winter? We’ve no chance.”

  “Winter may seem to be the Kildashie’s ally,” explained Marco, “which is why the Kildashie will never expect an attack then. And while they have formidable allies, you have great strength here too. Jack, please come forward.”

  Jack hadn’t expected this, and he blushed as Rana shoved him to make him stand up.

  “Most of you know how Jack came to be here,” proclaimed Marco. “Wisely, he entrusted this to me.” Marco now reached into a sack and withdrew the Mapa Mundi.

  There was a general buzz among the crowd, as the more recent arrivals whispered amongst themselves and strained to see the treasure. Jack walked slowly towards Marco, feeling the eyes of all there upon him. He glanced nervously up at his grandfather, then across at his father. His father smiled.

  “The Sphere: the Mapa Mundi, that shows its holder their true path,” announced Marco. “It has already shown Jack the route to the north islands. Jack is clearly meant to go; and his father and grandfather too. You have seven boats, as you know. The McCool leader of each of these will now name his crew.”

  As Marco tied the flag around Jack’s neck, Enda faced the crowd, and announced in a clear voice, “Jack, his cousin Petros, and their grandfather; Armina, Gilmore and Barassie; and Fenrig.”

  Barassie and Fenrig?! Jack felt his stomach turn, but his disgust was overtaken immediately by a loud explosion from the harbour. The sheet of flame that shot into the night sky drew gasps of astonishment …

  The boats!

  5

  Stowaways

  After the explosion came the confusion, as almost the entire crowd rushed to the harbour. Though it was too dark to assess the full damage, accusations, claims and counterclaims were hurled, resurrecting old resentments. The night passed with mutterings and talk of conspiracies.

  By morning, few had managed to get much sleep; but at least the situation was clearer. Only one boat had been destroyed, more a result of luck than intention. The charges that had been placed along the quayside had failed to ignite after the first explosion.

  “Amateurs!” spluttered Finbogie as he surveyed the scene in the early dawn light. “Whoever it was, I hope it wasn’t someone I taught.”

  “It is clear that someone does not wish this venture to succeed,” said Grandpa as he walked back up to the house with the youngsters. “But we cannot let that delay us. We only have three days in which to reach Nebula. We must catch the morning tide.”

  Rana and Lizzie hung back. Jack had been puzzled the previous evening by their quiet acceptance of the news that they had not been selected to travel. After a perfunctory ‘It’s not fair!’ (… almost their theme tune, Jack had thought …) they had retreated to their tent and had not been seen again before breakfast.

  Jack wound the Sintura belt around his waist, and checked its contents: jomo bag – good, I’ve got three dirts in there now – the lucis powder and Tamlina’s ring. Then he strapped Trog’s steel knife to his calf, stuffed his few belongings into a satchel, and went to the house to say goodbye to Marco and Luka. He found them waiting by the door.

  “The news that someone here does not wish your quest to succeed will not have reassured you, Jack. But wear the Mapa Mundi as you did when you first got it. And use Tamlina’s ring to tie it,” said Marco.

  Jack did as he was bid, and was astonished to see the flag around his neck vanish as he pushed the ring up towards his neck. He couldn’t even feel it.

  “Don’t forget it’s there. There’ll be times when you’ll need it.”

  “Go well, Jack,” said Luka kindly. “And know that you serve a just cause. Keep that always in your heart. Our brother will help to guide you.”

  Jack looked in puzzlement at the two of them. “You mean Matthew’s coming?”

  “No, not Matthew,” smiled Marco. “Remember I told you there were four of us? Our brother John will be watching you, from a distance.”

  “Is he … a shape …”

  Luka smiled. “I think you’ll recognise him when the time is right.”

  Fiddling rather awkwardly with the flag around his neck, Jack shook hands with the two old men, and turned away.

  I’ve got to say goodbye to Trog’s Bay, he thought. I owe him that. Jack fingered the steel knife that Trog had bequeathed to him as he made his way for the last time down to the shoreline.

  By the time Jack reached the quayside an hour later there was a palpable sense of excitement. The damaged boat lay, partly submerged, but the other six were crowded with people and belongings. Being Shian size, they looked tiny: Jack had grown so used to being human height on the island. His heart began to beat faster.

  “Come on! We need to catch this tide!” Grandpa’s exhortations were strident.

  Phineas came up and embraced Jack.

  “We’re on our way. I’ll be on Dermot’s boat, but we’ll see each other whenever we put into shore. They’ve sorted out the places for the eight whose boat was sunk. It’ll mean we’re all a bit more crowded, but we can’t help that now. Oh, and ask Enda to teach you the Cu-shee hexes.”

  Jack saw Ossian and Morrigan step onto Telos’ boat, shrinking down to Shian size as they did so. With relief he saw that Murkle was with them. At least we won’t be getting his lessons on board.

  “Where’s Barassie?” Gilmore sounded desperate. “She should be here!”

  His concern was matched by Aunt Katie, who asked anxiously of Jack, “Have you seen the girls? They disappeared after breakfast. I hope they’re all right.”

  “They’ll be fine, Auntie. You know what they’re like; they’ll have wandered off to a beach somewhere.”

  Petros was sitting in the prow of the boat, looking pensive. He doesn’t really want to be here, thought Jack. But he must’ve been chosen for a reason.

  “Have you seen my wife?” Gilmore accosted Fenrig as the young Brashat climbed into the boat.

  Fenrig sullenly shook his head, and threw his satchel down.

  There’ll be a reason for choosing Fenrig too. Someone must know something I don’t.

  Grandpa and Armina climbed – none too sprightly – onto the boat, resuming their Shian size. Armina’s large bag clunked loudly.

  “Come on; the tide’s turning,” Enda snapped, as he stowed Fenrig’s satchel carefully away. “Who’re we waiting on?”

  “Barassie. I haven’t seen her
for an hour.” Gilmore’s voice was frantic.

  “Well, she’s five minutes to get on board; then we’re leaving.”

  Enda’s tone did nothing to ease the tailor’s anxiety. Jack decided to go and sit with Petros.

  “Exciting, eh? It’s nice being real size again.”

  Petros grunted.

  “You want to help get the Kildashie out, don’t you?”

  Petros sniffed, and looked away, out to the open sea.

  Sensing that he would get no more out of his cousin just now, Jack set to watching the other boats. Telos had already manoeuvred his boat out, and was starting to hoist his foresail with Ossian’s help. Arvin had a squeeze box out, and was playing a human hornpipe while Daid clapped along. Murkle’s grimace indicated his distaste for such un-Shian arrangements.

  Dermot’s boat was next out, followed by the others. Jack waved as he saw his father hauling on a rope to release the foresail.

  Enda strode up to Gilmore.

  “We can’t wait any longer; the tide’s running fast. And there’s no time now to replace her. I’ll take over the cooking.”

  Gilmore’s pained expression showed his feelings, but he nodded.

  With large paddles, Enda and Grandpa steered the boat away from the quayside. The tide was running freely now, and with just the foresail released the boat moved swiftly out of the harbour and into the open sea.

  “Shall we bring the mainsail down?” shouted Jack as they encountered deeper waters.

  “Aye, we’re ready for that. Like I showed you.”

  Jack and Fenrig, well trained now, released the locks that held the mainsail ropes. As the great white sail billowed out, there were two thuds on the deck, and two squeals of pain.

  Armina, instantly alert, held her sceptre out. “Ostentus!”

  The girls, still in a heap on the deck, materialised.

  “What in the name of Tua are you two doing here?” Grandpa’s outraged yell was echoed by mocking squawks from two seagulls.

  Rana and Lizzie sat up, their green bonnets now scalded red by Armina’s hex.

 

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