by Andrew Symon
“The Norsemen came all the way down this coast, hey? I mean, Dunvik’s not far from here, is it?”
“They left behind all sorts. This should be worth a bit.”
A jetty at the mouth of the loch appeared out of the mist, and the boat nudged into it. They all clambered ashore.
“They’ll be waiting for us. Come on.” Stram took the lead, striding quickly through the dusk.
The mist had settled, taking visibility down to a few yards, and Jack could barely see Ossian ahead of him as they made their way through dense undergrowth. Jogging to keep up, he gradually became aware of the sound of cascading water.
“What’s that?”
“It’s whit keeps most folk out o’ the cave o’ the wells,” replied Gilravage.
Jack’s mind was working overtime. The cave of the wells. It was another name he knew from Murkle’s dreary lessons. Murkle was definitely nearby.
Sure enough, as they reached a gnarled oak tree, Jack saw several of the Shian square residents huddled over a fire. There was Grandpa, and Murkle and Daid, Gilmore and Finbogie; and about a dozen McCools. The smell of roasting meat assailed Jack’s nostrils, and his stomach rumbled.
“Sit down, sit down.” Gilmore fussed around as the new arrivals gathered round the fire. “We’ll get you some food. Did you get the charmstone?”
Gilravage produced the amulet, but hesitated for a moment.
“Do you not trust us?” Grandpa Sandy appeared out of the mist. “I take it Ossian has explained the necessity of this action. Believe me, if there was another way we would not be here.”
“How much is it worth?” asked Gilravage.
He had no time to respond. There was a swish, and two seconds later he lay on the ground, with Finbogie standing over him, sceptre pointed at his throat.
“More than your life is worth, fisherman. Hand it over.”
Gilravage proffered the amulet, and got to his knees.
“I was only jokin’.”
“This is not the time for jokes,” spat Murkle. “Who knows what waking this giant may do? But we have no choice. We must get the flag.”
“I think we could all do with some food.” Grandpa Sandy spoke evenly. “And I urge you all to save your energies for tomorrow. There is a bothy nearby where we can sleep.”
“Grandpa, where are the others? Dad, and Petros and the rest of them?”
“They have gone ahead to prepare for tomorrow. The Hebseelie will convene at Balbegan. That’s not far from Ardmore castle, where the flag is kept.”
“But shouldn’t we stick together?”
“We have to be cautious; they’re mostly Seelie here, but they’re different. Each boat crew will seek their own shelter. Phineas is scouting ahead; he’ll make sure we’re all in the right place for tomorrow.”
“So who’s going to wake this giant up?”
“Oh, that’s easy. It’s you and Murkle.”
Jack did not sleep well that night. For one thing it was cold, and even in a bothy crammed with people, there was precious little warmth. But what really kept him awake was the thought of going into a cave with his least favourite tutor to wake up a giant. How was that for a Hallows’ Eve surprise?
Breakfast was eaten in near silence, everyone preferring the company of their own thoughts to the conversation of others.
“Grandpa, we’ve got the amulet to wake Caskill. What am I supposed to do?”
Grandpa Sandy looked hard at Jack.
“Jack, waking this giant will not be that simple. The legend says that we must charge his heart – that’s what the amulet is for.”
Jack’s astonished expression told its own story.
“The amulet has the power to awaken Caskill, but only with the right charm; and you must find him first.”
“But he’s in the cave; you’ve already said.”
“Jack, that cave stretches far into the mountain; and it’s dark. There are tunnels and wells in there; it’s dangerous.”
“Then why don’t we all go in and look for him?”
“We need to win him over. Giants aren’t used to crowds. If we all go in, he’ll think he’s being attacked, especially if he sees fire torches. That’s the surest way to turn him angry.”
“Can’t I have a sceptre if it’s dark in there?”
“You’re not allowed one; you know that.”
“So what do I do in there?”
“Marco and Luka have great faith in your ability to see the right way. You must use the Sphere. There’s no harm in you knowing now, but while Marco was keeping it safe, several of the Congress tried to use it; and we couldn’t.”
“You mean I’m the only one who can make it work?”
“Jack, our powers are not as strong here. Maybe we’re too far away from the Stone in Edinburgh – the Kildashie have the benefit of that now; but you have the benefit of the Sphere.”
“Young man,” said Murkle quietly, “your role in that cave is to keep me on the right path. This is not something I ever expected to be asking of an apprentice; but your grandfather is correct: the powers we would normally use do not work well here.”
“We can take you as far as the great cataract; we will wait for you there.” Grandpa smiled at Jack.
“And Caskill will get us the flag from Balbegan, which means we can summon the Hebseelie Court?”
“Yes,” said Murkle, becoming excited. “My first trip here. I’ll be the first one to waken Caskill in 100 years … Caskill – the only one who can get the flag because of …”
Grandpa Sandy’s hand extended out and gripped Murkle’s arm. The tutor stopped abruptly, then swallowed hard.
“Because of what?” Jack fought down a rising sense of panic. “What’s stopping anyone else from getting the flag?”
“One task at a time, Jack. Just be true to what you know is right.” Grandpa looked Jack directly in the eyes, and smiled. “We’re relying on you.”
Jack thought that Murkle was looking sheepish. Had he something to hide? And what did he mean – this was his first time here? Hadn’t Gilravage said his tutor had visited Nebula already?
It was with a heavy heart that Jack made his way with the others to the foot of the great cataract. Thousands of gallons of water gushed between the two rock faces, falling 100 feet before crashing into the waters of Loch Lin. A fine spray met them as they got close.
“Murkle will summon us if we are needed. You go and show him the way.”
Jack looked at the waterfall. There seemed to be no point at which you could walk under it – it fell straight into the loch, with a noise that drowned out all conversation, and a force that ruled out any notion of swimming under it.
“Come along, come along,” mouthed Murkle. “Let’s be getting in there.”
He walked to the side of the great cataract, where a barely discernible path disappeared under the torrent of water. Unable to hear him, but taking his cue, Jack followed. Holding his sceptre forward, Murkle shouted,
“Obturamentum!”
It came out as a high-pitched shriek, and an inverted V-shape formed in the curtain of water, just three feet high. Murkle grabbed Jack’s arm and dragged him through. The moment they were on the other side, the V-shape disappeared.
The cave was curiously quiet after the deafening noise on the outside; and almost pitch dark. Murkle struck his sceptre on the ground, and held it aloft. The crystal glowed brightly, throwing a dim circle of light around them. The circle didn’t extend very far, however, and Jack wished he’d been allowed to have his own sceptre.
I don’t know why they’re so strict. I’ll be fourteen in a few months.
He had no time to muse on these things, as Murkle was evidently keen to proceed.
“Come along, young man. We need to find this giant.”
Murkle started off on a narrow track. Even at Shian height, there was little room to either side.
“Let me get the Sphere, and I’ll see what it shows,” cried Jack plaintively as his tutor d
isappeared into the gloom.
It made little difference. As Jack unwound the Mapa Mundi from his neck, he only knew where Murkle was because of the tiny bobbing light from the tutor’s sceptre. Jack felt the flag turn into the Sphere, but it was too dark to make anything out.
“Murkle! Wait for me!”
He headed for the sceptre glow ahead, but the glow kept moving. Murkle hadn’t even stopped.
Muttering under his breath, Jack edged forward as quickly as he dared. He hadn’t gone more than a few paces when his right leg plunged knee-deep into a freezing pool. Clutching the Sphere frantically, he clambered back onto the narrow path.
A shout of pain from ahead suggested that Murkle had also come off the path. Jack made his way towards the glow of his tutor’s sceptre, and found Murkle sitting down, clutching his left ankle and cursing softly. Jack fought back a giggle.
“I’ll use the Sphere.”
He held the Sphere forward, and in the sceptre’s light saw the map’s two large circles.
They helped us get across the giant’s bridge at midsummer. What are they showing now?
For a while, nothing was visible. Then a slumbering figure appeared, with a glowing path leading up to him. Jack looked at the picture. A glowing path? The sceptre was no good; and they weren’t allowed to use fire because it would frighten Caskill.
Murkle’s cursing had lessened, and Jack looked curiously at his tutor. Despite his obvious pain, he looked … well, excited.
“My first giant,” said Murkle happily, in between gasps of pain.
“Murkle, have you never seen a giant before?”
“I’ve read more about giants than you’ll ever know, young man. I was researching giant lore before you were even born.”
“But you’ve never actually met one?”
“I’ve got the amulet; it will waken his heart again. I know what to do. Now, can’t you make that thing show us where he is?”
Jack thought. A glowing path … Then his mind cleared. Of course! Finbogie had given him the lucis powder. Quickly, Jack reached inside his Sintura belt and took a pinch of the powder. What was it Finbogie had said? ‘Only a pinch; make it last’.
Jack looked at the Sphere again. It showed the cave’s multiple paths, and great pools in between them all. Which path was the right one? As Jack turned to face different directions, one of the paths on the map glowed.
That must be it. I’ll have to use the Sphere to keep me on track.
Edging cautiously forward, Jack threw the lucis powder onto the path in front of him. As he did so, the path glowed for about a dozen yards ahead.
“Keep the sceptre’s light on the path too,” he instructed his tutor.
Murkle’s mutter of contempt was unmistakeable, but he did as the young apprentice said. As Jack reached the limit of the glowing path he checked the Sphere again.
The path veers off to the left here. Oh well. As long as the lucis powder keeps working, and Murkle holds the sceptre low to the ground.
Jack threw some more of the powder in front of him.
“This way!” he shouted triumphantly.
Every twenty steps or so Jack had to throw another pinch of the powder down, but the path was light enough now for them to see their way, even without the sceptre.
But I’ve got to make this powder last …
They moved forward more quickly, Murkle limping behind Jack, but still brimming over with enthusiasm.
“I’ve got the amulet, and I’ll place it in his chest and wake him. Oh! It will be a sight to see!”
He’s never done anything like this before, thought Jack. All he’s ever done is read stories.
Although the cave ceiling was high, the path led them under rock overhangs, and Jack found himself brushing cobwebs away.
Ugh! I hate spiders! I wish Murkle was going first.
Murkle too seemed to want to take the lead, for he suddenly pushed past Jack.
“He’s near! I can hear him!”
Indeed, an echoing sound of snoring drifted from nearby. And clambering over a rock, in the glow from the sceptre, they saw him. The cave ceiling rose sharply again, creating a cavernous chamber. And there, in the middle, flat on his back, bare-chested, mouth slightly open, a slumbering giant.
“How big is he?” whispered Jack.
There was no reply. With a cry of elation, Murkle hobbled forward, and clambered onto the chest of the sleeping figure. Reaching down into the pouch on his belt, he grabbed the amulet, and thrust it into the tiny depression over his heart.
“No!”
Jack’s warning came too late. The giant remained snoring on his back, but his right hand reached up and grabbed Murkle tightly. The tutor’s body just filled the great creature’s fist, but looked like it wouldn’t be a body much longer. Murkle’s eyes were nearly popping out of his head, and even in the dim light, Jack could see his face turning puce.
Jack reached into his Sintura belt again, grabbed the Aximon figure and shouted,
“Salvus! Salvus! Salvus!”
There was a moment of stillness, then Caskill’s grip lessened. Murkle’s body slumped, his head striking the ground with a dull thud. His sceptre rolled to the side, and he lay, motionless.
Great. Now I’ve stunned the giant; and Murkle’s probably dead.
Murkle, however, was not dead. A deep agonising intake of breath was followed by a prolonged hacking cough; then he sat up, rubbing the side of his head. He looked accusingly at Jack.
“Did you do that?” His voice was croaky.
Jack felt the blood run to his face.
“He was going to kill you! And you were supposed to wake him gently. Don’t you remember what you teach us?”
Momentarily rebuked by Jack’s harsh tone, Murkle muttered, “Whippersnapper,” but said no more.
“So what d’we do now? How long’s the Salvus charm work?” Jack thought back to the only other time he’d had to use it, when Konan had been fused into the oak at Dunvik. Uncle Doonya hadn’t allowed the charm to wear off.
“I’ve never seen it used before,” muttered Murkle.
“Well, I’ll try the amulet again,” said Jack firmly. “Properly.”
He climbed up onto the giant’s slumbering body and levered the amulet out of the depression in which it nestled. Then, muttering a “Please make this work; we need this”, he placed it back gently in the hollow on the giant’s chest, then jumped back down onto the ground.
Nothing happened.
What’s missing? thought Jack. He looked at the Sphere again. The picture of a flower appeared; a purple flower with a drooping head. Oh, yeah! Armina was telling us about this.
Jack picked up Murkle’s sceptre, and tapped the giant’s body with it.
“Digitalis!”
There was another moment of stillness.
Then the amulet began to pulsate, and a glow appeared around the giant’s body, illuminating the cave in a restful light. The giant blinked; then sat slowly up. Rubbing his eyes, he yawned expansively, and smacked his lips together. Then, peering at Jack and Murkle, he blinked. A menacing growl began at the back of his throat, and his eyes narrowed.
Murkle reached and grabbed the sceptre from Jack’s hand.
8
The Road to Ardmore
The giant rose slowly to his feet, staring all the while at Murkle. At least twelve feet tall, his head reached the rock ceiling, and he dwarfed the two Shian creatures. Jack saw Murkle’s fingers twitch as he grasped the sceptre and looked up.
“We need him on our side,” hissed Jack.
Murkle didn’t seem to hear. Overawed by Caskill’s enormous size, he trembled slightly. When he started, shakily, to raise the sceptre, Jack moved forward.
“Thank you Caskill,” he shouted. “We promise to leave you the heart stone and the charm it needs if you get us the Shian flag from Ardmore castle.”
There was a pause, while the echoes rang around the cave. Then Caskill looked down at his chest and saw the amulet
pulsating. His great hand passed over it, touching it lightly. He stared at Jack, then knelt down and patted him on the head. Jack felt as if the cave ceiling had fallen on him; his head pounded, and his ears thrummed. Then, turning to Murkle, Caskill snatched the sceptre from the old tutor’s hand, peered at it briefly, then snapped it as if it were a twig.
Murkle let out a gasp of surprise, but seemed unable to move.
He’s never dealt with anything like this before, thought Jack, his head pounding less now. All those stories, but it’s like he’s never been out of his house.
“Ar’mor’.” It was more a grunt than a word.
Caskill picked Jack up gently, cradling him in the crook of his right arm, snorted, and set off for the waterfall, his great strides echoing around the cave and making short work of the distance. Startled out of his reverie, Murkle began to run after them, shouting,
“Hey! Wait up!”
Caskill paused briefly, and glanced over his shoulder. As Murkle approached, the giant stretched his foot out and nudged the tutor into a rock pool. With an undignified yell, Murkle fell in, splashing water everywhere. Jack sniggered. This wasn’t such a bad Hallows’ Eve after all.
The rock pools were little more than puddles to Caskill, but now he began to wade into deeper water. Jack saw the waterfall curtain ahead, and looked around to make sure Murkle was there. His tutor was jogging painfully, trying to keep up, making the best of the path’s glowing residue of lucis powder.
As Caskill approached the waterfall, he placed his left hand over Jack’s head, sheltering him from the torrent of water, and they passed through. Emerging into the morning light, the great giant lifted his left hand to shield his eyes.
Jack’s first sight was of Finbogie, Gilmore and the McCools crouched down, military-style, their sceptres at the ready. Grandpa stood behind them.
“It’s all right!” shouted Jack. “He’ll help us!”
A cheer rose from the ranks.
“But where is Murkle?” demanded Grandpa.
The bedraggled figure of the old tutor now emerged from the edge of the waterfall. Soaking wet, and limping heavily, he cut a sorry figure, and it took him some time to hobble over to where the others were gathered.
