by Andrew Symon
A dishevelled Doxer appeared at the head of the hall and scurried forward holding a goblet, his head bowed. Boreus placed the Raglan on a table, snatched the goblet and drained the contents in a single go. He staggered slightly as he dropped the vessel.
He’s drunk too!
Boreus turned round and leered at the hapless Doxer.
Doxer! That snake in the grass! I should never have trusted him!
With his head bowed, it was hard to tell what Doxer was thinking. Jack racked his brains to think of a hex or a curse that would fit, but nothing came to mind. And the Tarditas made every movement painfully slow. He’d never get away with anything. Aware that several Kildashie had their sceptres trained on him, Jack continued to edge forward, but less sure of himself now. The Mapa’s message had been clear: but why?
“Give me the Sphere, child.” Boreus held out his left hand.
Jack hesitated, and saw Boreus turn and strike Doxer hard across the face with the flat of his sword. Doxer fell, howling.
At least he’s got his voice back …
Kildashie soldiers jostled each other drunkenly.
“The rest of you, throw down your weapons, or the boy gets it!”
There was an uneasy pause behind him while the Seelie army debated this; but then the clatter of swords and sceptres confirmed to Jack that his comrades had indeed surrendered their arms.
“The Sphere, child, or we will kill you all. Did you think you could defeat us once we had the Stone and the Chalice?”
Boreus turned and looked again at the Stone in the fireplace. And now Jack saw the King’s Chalice appear beside it. One of the Kildashie lieutenants strode over and grasped the ancient cup, holding it aloft.
“Soon all the Shian treasures will belong to us!” Boreus crowed triumphantly, and picked up his sceptre again in his left hand.
Jack could think of no way out. Miserably, he edged forward.
The Raglan pieces belonged together … Just like the treasures belong together …
“Kneel, child. I think a fitting deliverance would be to separate your neck from your body.”
Jack dropped the leather volume as a hand shoved him roughly down onto his knees. Boreus stood before him, a broadsword in his hand …
The Raglan re-formed itself … Some things are meant to be together … Something binds them together …
The sword was raised.
What binds them together?
“No!”
The voice came from behind him … His father’s voice. Jack glanced behind, and saw Phineas staggering up.
“He saved my life – spare him. I will take his place.”
Before Jack could respond, his father had shoved him aside, and was kneeling down.
Boreus looked down on this scene with evident pleasure.
“No matter; and the Sphere shall be ours anyway …” He raised the sword again.
He’s going to die in my place!
Jack’s mind raced back to his vision from Tamlina’s ring. He was still kneeling, waiting for the sword to fall, but a voice in his head kept repeating: “And the father shall die for the son … the father shall die for the son …” He’d opened his eyes then, to stop himself seeing any more.
“Prepare to die, Seelie!”
“No!” Another shout from behind him – only this time it was his grandfather’s voice. “I do not deserve to live if my son dies. The father shall die for the son.”
Grandpa Sandy now tottered forward, and pulled Phineas back. Awkwardly, he knelt down in front of Boreus.
Jack’s mind raced: which father was going to die for which son? Three generations … three treasures … Bound together by …
And then another thought flashed, unbidden, through his mind.
The Raglan re-formed itself … If it’s meant to be part of the Stone, the whole Raglan would fly to the Destiny Stone … Unless …!
Jack looked at the Stone in the fireplace as the broadsword was raised again.
No rings!
“It isn’t the real Stone!”
Jack scrambled to his feet, and stepped forward so that he faced Boreus. With an angry shout Boreus swiped at him with his sceptre, which flew to the ground. Jack stood up, and as Boreus raised the sword again Jack planted himself purposefully in front of his grandfather.
“It isn’t the real Stone!” Jack’s voice was almost a sneer.
A memory of feverish dreams now swept through Jack … What was it he’d heard back in the cailleach’s cottage? The creator force? Jack looked down at the leather volume at his feet. John’s book; like the ones Marco and Luka had had; and Matthew.
“Gosol!”
The word leapt from Jack’s mouth before he had even thought of it.
The Kildashie leader gasped and staggered back, dropping his sword. His reaction flashed through the Kildashie force: seeing their leader suddenly vulnerable, drunken confusion replaced drunken confidence in seconds.
Now Jack reached down and grasped Trog’s knife, and waved it tauntingly at the confused Kildashie.
“Norse steel!”
Confusion morphed into panic.
In an instant, Doxer had scampered forward and grabbed the Raglan stone from the table. Flicking it forwards he called out, “Jack!”
Jack caught the Raglan – wow, it’s hot, and heavy! – and raised it above his head.
“Seelie!”
With a crash, the doors were flung open and the Cos-Howe contingent poured in. As the Tarditas hex hit them and they slowed right down, Jack’s mind went back to the occasions when time had been slowed down – and speeded up. Midsummer … Oestre … Konan’s timepiece in the pit of torment …
Time.
His mind cleared. He grabbed Boreus’ sceptre, aimed it at the Kildashie leader and shouted, “Fugitemp!”
36
The Defeat of the Ancient
Order of Plutocrats
The great hall of Edinburgh Castle has seen some wild sights in its time. Over the centuries, its walls have witnessed intrigues, plots, conspiracies and celebrations. The private function organised by the Ancient Order of Plutocrats (Surrey branch, established 1928) would be remembered by those attending for a long time, but for all the wrong reasons. The disturbance experienced by its well-heeled associates was an inconvenience, certainly; and they hadn’t paid exorbitant sums to have their New Year shindig spoiled by a bunch of hooligans. But in their minds, that’s what happened. As the Cos-Howe crew burst in, however, they were still frozen in time, aware only that unexpected visitors had disturbed their ‘bash’.
What really happened was far more significant.
Jack’s reversal of the Tarditas hex, and the sudden arrival of Cosmo and his Cos-Howe crew swept away any chance of the Kildashie regaining the upper hand. Jack’s challenge to Boreus had already sown doubt in the minds of the inebriated Kildashie foot soldiers, and their leader’s dumbfounded reaction confirmed to them – slow of brain as some of them were – that all was not well. Distracted by the appearance of the new arrivals, they missed the fjordsmen and Cree grabbing their discarded weapons.
As some of Boreus’ henchmen flailed at Jack for his impertinence, Phineas waded in to protect his son; and Grandpa Sandy recovered to wrench the Chalice from the stunned Kildashie lieutenant.
“It’s not even the real Chalice,” he said grimly, holding the cup disconsolately.
Confused and quickly surrounded, the Kildashie threw down their arms with little resistance.
“Did we miss all the fun?” asked Cosmo, advancing on Jack.
“Ossian and Magnus got you out OK, then?”
“Sure. As we were forcing our way out, these ghosts appeared and swirled around the Thanatos. They just vanished.”
Parker’s mates.
“You arranged that, didn’t you?” Cosmo smiled down at Jack.
“I used the vococorn Tamlina gave me. It summoned the ghosts. Doxer gave it to me.”
Jack looked round to see Doxer.
<
br /> “He’s over here,” called Phineas softly.
He was crouched down, holding Doxer’s body in close. Jack started quickly towards them, then halted, seeing the look on his father’s face.
“What is it?” His voice trembled.
“The Kildashie’s parting shot.” Phineas indicated Doxer’s bloodstained chest. “One of Boreus’ henchmen decided to repay him.”
Jack knelt down and looked into his colleague’s eyes. They flickered, but there was no sign of recognition.
“Can’t we use the Chalice?”
“It’s not the real one, Jack; like the Stone. The Kildashie formed the images, even created a fake Chalice to wave in front of us.”
“You mean they never got them at all?”
“I reckon they got in and touched the Stone, just like Daid did last Oestre. But they couldn’t move it.”
Doxer gave a gasp, and his eyes closed.
“I’m sorry, Jack; he’s gone. He was brave to help us. We’ll honour him.”
Jack’s eyes welled up with tears, and he looked away.
“How?”
“We can discuss it in the Stone Room.”
Phineas stood up, and spoke briefly with Grandpa Sandy. They beckoned Grey Wolf over.
“Jack, you and Cosmo come with us.”
The five made their way out to the courtyard, still littered with bodies. The icy night air clawed at Jack – he hadn’t realised how warm he had just been, without even knowing it.
“We must re-set the humans’ time as well. It’s dangerous for our times to be separate for too long.” Phineas spoke authoritatively as he escorted Jack and the others over to the stairwell that led to the Stone Room. Reaching the wooden door facing the courtyard Phineas called out, “Perlignum!”
The group were pulled forward. Jack gasped, but instantly recognised the stairs leading up to the alarmed door. He was astonished to see John standing there.
“Hello, Jack, Cosmo. I hope it’s all right if I join you.”
Cosmo shook John warmly by the hand, while Jack looked on, open-mouthed. Phineas took out his sceptre and aimed it at the solid steel door. The sceptre’s ruby glowed, and there was a soft shimmering sound. The centre of the door melted away, leaving just enough room for them to jump through. Once inside, the door reappeared with a whooshing sound.
The buzz in the room was unmistakable – and much stronger than Jack remembered it. The Mapa Mundi around his neck grew warm, and the cabinet glowed.
“It’s working, isn’t it?” said Phineas. “The three treasures together.”
Jack looked at the Stone and the Chalice. He’d been right: the image conjured up by Boreus down in the hall hadn’t been the real Stone of Destiny.
“How close were the Kildashie to getting the real Stone?” he asked.
“They managed to halt human time with the Tarditas,” explained Grandpa. “That’s why the humans in the hall froze. Poor devils: all they wanted was to ring in midnight.”
“But the Tarditas slowed us down too.”
“We’re Seelie, Jack. Our ties with the human world mean we get affected by what happens to them.”
“So it’s midnight for Shian, but not for humans?”
“You’ll know the human’s midnight because they let off loads of fireworks outside,” explained Cosmo.
He looks so thin; he can’t have eaten in ages.
“But it’s infama for the two times to be different,” went on Cosmo. “The Fugitemp speeded Shian time up, not the humans’: we must correct it – and soon.”
“Quite so,” added John. “But we have a few moments. We should honour all those who did not survive, including Jack’s comrade.”
Jack started guiltily. He’d barely known Doxer, though he’d worked with him for ages; and he’d believed more than once that Doxer was a traitor, when that clearly wasn’t true.
“This is one of those ‘thin’ times, when Shian can reach in and touch the Stone,” said Grandpa. “It will be until the human’s midnight arrives.”
“If the Raglan is part of the real Stone, do we have to return it?” asked Jack.
“Why don’t you try?” John smiled back.
Jack held out the Raglan – warm and heavy – but nothing happened.
“I thought it would fly to the Stone. I thought it didn’t join the Stone downstairs because that was a fake.”
“It is a fake,” replied John. “But it didn’t join because it’s not meant to: the Raglan belongs in the Shian world. For you, it is the Destiny Stone.”
“Then it will give strength to our new Congress,” said Grandpa.
Jack looked at the iron rings on the Stone in the cabinet. The image the Kildashie had conjured up didn’t have them.
They could only imagine having the Stone without the rings. Maybe they even fooled themselves they had it …
“Let’s see all three treasures together,” said Cosmo.
Obligingly, Jack flicked the Mapa Mundi into the Sphere, and held it up beside the glass cabinet along with the Raglan. The room glowed again.
“All together,” whispered Grandpa Sandy reverently. “I never thought I would live to see this.”
“Good things come in threes,” added John. “And good things are connected. The Raglan’s creator force gives you life; the Sphere shows your true path; and the Chalice shows that death is not the end. Together they give you life and truth.”
“This will make your Congress strong,” said Grey Wolf; “but we have only a few moments here.”
Jack handed the Sphere to his grandfather, then reached in and touched the Stone. Whatever buzz he’d felt just being in the room was nothing compared to the kick he got on contact.
“Wow! It feels … zingy. Like the Raglan.”
John laughed. “Well, they’re both powerful – for Shian the Raglan is the Creator key. But think now, Jack. Young Doxer died helping you – along with many others tonight. How should we honour them all?”
Jack thought for a moment, then drew out Trog’s knife from his leg. Leaning into the glass cabinet, he scored a small cross in the Stone, near one end.
“I saw that in the books Marco and Luka had.”
Jack’s mind suddenly raced …
John’s book! I dropped it in the great hall!
He put his hand to his mouth.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got the book,” said Cosmo. “Are you done here?”
Jack nodded. He took a good look at the Stone, and at the King’s Chalice, and turned to go.
“We can come back, yeah? When we’ve sorted everything out?”
“It’s not so important now that we have the Raglan.” His grandfather handed him back the Mapa Mundi. “But I promise we’ll be back. And it will be our turn to host the Chalice soon.”
“The Thanatos could’ve just waited for that. I mean, that’s what they were after.”
“If the Kildashie had got the Chalice, there’s no guarantee they would have shared it. They’re treacherous, remember. But come on: we must even up the human and Shian times.”
As the six shivered their way back over to the great hall, a team of Elle-folk was busy clearing away the last debris of the fight. It was cold – but not Baltic like before. They entered to find the human scene just as they had left it – tables overturned, food scattered and drinks spilled.
The Shian scene was one of calm: while Armina tended to injured Seelie, the Kildashie had been made to kneel before the great fireplace. Though numerically superior, their drunken confidence had burst with their leader’s downfall. Cowed and confused, they presented a pitiful spectacle. Boreus alone held his head up – but his rediscovered confidence had come too late.
Oobit was right: the Kildashie aren’t that special.
“This will not take long,” called out Harald as Jack and the others arrived. “You must establish the authority of your new Congress. Summon the Seelie!”
And, crowded as the great hall already was, it was suddenly filled with a gr
eat multitude of Shian creatures – Pisgies, Dwarves, Darrigs, the lot.
Just like at Dunvik. Cool.
As the people and creatures of the hidden Commonwealth sat or perched where they could, Grandpa Sandy strode in front of the assembly.
“My friends, after a long time we have returned to our homes here, and we have finally joined the three great Shian treasures.”
“The Stone and the Chalice still belong to the humans, dolt!” spat Boreus.
“The Stone in the glass cabinet upstairs may belong to the humans, but it still gives us energy and power. And more than that, we have the Raglan – the Shian Destiny Stone!”
“And to celebrate, you’ll execute us,” sneered Boreus. “I have no fear of death.”
“Men of Kildashie, you have desecrated this place with your murder and theft. Your alliances with the Thanatos and the Dunters have brought ruin to the entire Shian people.”
Grandpa Sandy was in full flow, no trace now of the doubt and shame that had so recently reduced him to a mumbling wreck.
“For the murder of Atholmor and Samara from the Congress, and young Ploutter and Doxer; and many more besides, you will be banished into Sheol.”
There was a gasp around the room. War among the Shian was one thing; and execution or suspension was the usual penalty.
Jack looked at his father.
“Suspended is bad enough – I should know. But Sheol is 100 times worse.”
There is a fate worse than death, then, thought Jack.
“… sent immediately and without appeal for a period of thirty years.” Grandpa looked round carefully at the assembled throng. “Is the Commonwealth in agreement?”
Whereas at Dunvik there had been some debate – even some defence – before the Brashat were suspended, it was evident that no one felt inclined to prolong these proceedings. There was a murmur of approval, and together Grandpa Sandy, Phineas and Harald levelled their sceptres at the cowering Kildashie.
“Ifrinn!”
The Kildashie were encased in a fiery glow. There was no sound, however; and after the prisoners had faded into nothingness, the only sign of their presence (bar the mess) was a faint singeing on the floor.
