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Silver Hill

Page 8

by Catherine Cooper


  Jack held the Dorysk up so he could see him better. The Dorysk peered back but Jack doubted he could see much because he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

  ‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ said Jack as reassuringly as he could.

  ‘What are you?’

  ‘It’s me, Jack Brenin, I met you in the woods with Camelin.’

  ‘You’re not Jack Brenin, you’re an impostor. The Jack Brenin I met had feathers. You’re a spy, I know you are. You’ve come to test me. The nasty Bogie sent you didn’t he?’

  ‘I haven’t spoken to Peabody for a while.’

  ‘No, not Peabody, Pyecroft. Oh me, oh my! I don’t know what came over me! I’m really not myself. Dorysk’s don’t give information out to strangers.’

  ‘I am Jack Brenin, I’m a raven boy, like Camelin.’

  ‘How do I know you’re telling me the truth? I can’t even see what you look like.’

  ‘Where are your glasses?’

  ‘No, no! Ask me anything but that question, you’ve only got one question but please don’t ask me that.’

  Jack could see that the Dorysk was upset.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘No, no! I can’t answer that question either. Oh me, oh my. What to do? What to do?’

  ‘I can magic you a pair of glasses if it would help.’

  ‘You can? Glasses that won’t break?’

  ‘Yes, I think I can do that.’

  ‘Oh, I’d be most grateful if you could.’

  Jack put the Dorysk on the ground, trying to remember what his other glasses had looked like and waved his wand. There was a loud crackling sound, which made the Dorysk jump. His little paws shot up to his face.

  ‘You did it! Oh how wonderful! I can see again.’

  ‘Try breaking them, let’s see if it worked.’

  The Dorysk took the glasses off and put them on the grass. He quickly picked them up again.

  ‘No, no, I can’t, what if they break?’

  ‘I’ll mend them.’

  ‘You do it. I couldn’t bear to break my own glasses.’

  Jack put his foot on the small pair of round-rimmed spectacles. He felt them scrunch under his trainer but when he lifted his foot again, the glass instantly rearranged itself into frames that had already straightened. Jack bent over, picked up the pair of glasses and handed them back to the Dorysk.

  ‘Oh thank you, a thousand times thank you, I’ve not been able to see much at all without them. How can I ever repay you?’

  The Dorysk took a step back so he could bow to Jack and hit his heel on the pot of pins.

  ‘Oh my, what have we here?’ the Dorysk said excitedly.

  ‘A thousand flat headed pins.’

  ‘And what would someone have to do to own a pot of pins like this?’

  Jack took a deep breath and was about to explain the problem but he remembered he still hadn’t had his own question answered.

  ‘Why did the Bogie take your glasses?’

  The Dorysk looked cautiously around.

  ‘Bend down so I can whisper,’ he told Jack.

  Jack lay on the hummock. The Dorysk again looked around.

  ‘I found out some top-secret information and to stop me telling anyone the nasty Bogie came and stole my glasses. He said if I told anyone he’d break them and I’d never be able to see again.’

  ‘Don’t you worry, I know a sticking spell. If Pyecroft comes back and tries to take this pair he won’t be able to get them off your head.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  Jack waved his wand and used the same spell Nora had used on the cauldron when they’d been in Annwn.

  ‘There you are. No one will ever be able to take or break your glasses again.’

  ‘You are so kind. Can I do anything in return for you?’

  ‘Well,’ began Jack, ‘we have a little problem and we could do with your help. We need you to use your incredible shrinking powers to go through a keyhole and do a bit of finding out for us.’

  ‘Us?’

  ‘Well there’s me and Camelin and I suppose Charkle and Timmery, but they don’t know what we’re planning. We need to know what’s behind a small door on Silver Hill before we open it.’

  ‘Information gathering’s what we Dorysks do best but it’s a long way to Silver Hill.’

  ‘I can get you a lift. Camelin will fly you over there.’

  ‘It’s a deal then. And what information would you like for the pot of pins?’

  Jack didn’t like to ask the Dorysk for the secret he’d found out, it just didn’t seem fair, even though he was dying to know.

  ‘Perhaps I can save my question for another time, would that be alright?’

  ‘Oh fine, fine, just let me know. You can ask me what you want whenever you want, Jack Brenin, in return for these wonderful pins. But please don’t tell anyone where you found me, I like to keep my whereabouts a secret. I don’t want everyone knowing where I live.’

  ‘I promise, and in return perhaps you’d keep a secret for me and not tell Camelin I came calling!’

  ‘It’s a deal. I’ll just go and put these somewhere safe.’

  Jack hadn’t realised the pot would be so big and heavy for the small Dorysk.

  ‘Here let me help,’ said Jack, as the Dorysk struggled to pick it up. ‘Would you like me to make it a bit smaller for you?’

  ‘Oh no! It’s perfect as it is, I can manage. I’ve got it now.’

  The Dorysk heaved the pot up and once it was securely in his front paws he scurried back down the hole. Jack had no doubt he’d come back. It wasn’t long before the small prickly creature reappeared at the entrance, looking very pleased with himself, though a little out of breath.

  ‘Can you shrink yourself down so you could fit in my pocket?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Here we go,’ said the Dorysk as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, hunched his shoulders and began shrinking. It wasn’t long before a small brown mouse, wearing a pair of tiny spectacles stood next to Jack’s foot.

  Jack put his hand out so the Dorysk could climb on and be lowered into his pocket.

  ‘Hold on tight, I need to get home as quickly as possible,’ Jack said before he began running across the field towards the stile.

  When he got back to the kitchen he found the note hadn’t been moved and he picked it up and put it in the bin. Jack peeped into the front room and was relieved to see Grandad was still asleep. He took the stairs two at a time and as soon as he got into his room he opened the window wide and made the call of the raven owl as loudly as he could.

  It seemed ages before Camelin appeared in the distance. Jack knew he’d be grumpy when he arrived.

  ‘Look what I’ve found!’

  ‘You used your wand didn’t you?’

  ‘He caught me fair and square,’ squeaked the Dorysk.

  ‘How do I know that’s not just an ordinary mouse you’ve magicked a pair of glasses onto?’

  If only Camelin knew how close to the truth he was he wouldn’t have been pleased but Jack didn’t need to defend himself as the Dorysk began transforming again.

  ‘Now, I believe you want my help? Something about a flight over to Silver Hill and a bit of information gathering?’

  The Dorysk started walking towards Camelin.

  ‘Oh no you don’t, you’re not getting on my back with all those prickles.’

  Camelin looked pleadingly at Jack.

  ‘Could you manage something small?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Something very small and not at all prickly,’ added Camelin.

  The Dorysk squeezed his eyes shut, there was a loud pop and he was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘You let him escape,’ grumbled Camelin. ‘You should have held onto him while he transformed, he could be miles away by now.’

  ‘Shhh!’ said Jack trying to listen. ‘He’s over there.’

  A tiny flea, wearing a minute pair of glasses, was jumping up and down on the end of Jack’s bed, trying to
attract their attention. Jack laughed.

  ‘Is he small enough now?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Camelin as he shuffled over to the bed. ‘Climb on but don’t you go wriggling around, sit nice and still. We’ll be at Silver Hill in no time. There’s no amateur flyers to hold us up tonight.’

  Jack ignored Camelin’s last comment. He was just grateful he didn’t have to make the journey.

  Camelin hopped onto the windowsill.

  ‘Leave the window open and we’ll come back and tell you what we find out.’

  ‘Okay,’ sighed Jack, ‘but if it can wait ’til morning I’d be grateful. I really do need a good night’s sleep.’

  It was a warm night. The breeze from the open window wafted over Jack as he lay on his bed and it wasn’t long before he drifted off.

  Jack woke with a start when something heavy landed on his bed. It was dark so he reached for his wand and made a dim light appear at the tip.

  ‘It’s me, wake up!’ said Camelin.

  ‘I can see it’s you and I am awake,’ Jack replied sleepily. ‘I presume it’s important. What did the Dorysk find out?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. He got straight on my back, ordered me to fly back here and refused to talk to anyone but you. And if he thinks he’s getting on my back again as a flea he’s wrong, he’s made me itch all over.’

  Jack didn’t see the Dorysk at first and then a small shape in the middle of his bed began to grow. Soon his familiar prickly form appeared. He began speaking so quickly and so loudly that Jack worried he might wake Grandad.

  ‘Shhh! You’re going to have to whisper. What’s wrong?’

  ‘Oh dreadful news, dreadful!’

  ‘Did you see a monster?’

  The Dorysk shook his head.

  ‘You’d better start at the beginning,’ said Jack, ‘and tell us everything.’

  The Dorysk sat on his haunches, took a deep breath and began.

  ‘I thought it would be dark inside the mountain but it wasn’t. There are crystals all over the walls, and lots of light everywhere. I transformed into a moth and flew down the passage until I came to a room. That’s when I heard it.’

  ‘The monster?’ asked Camelin.

  ‘No, I didn’t see a monster. I heard two Spriggans planning the menu in honour of Chief Knuckle’s forthcoming visit.’

  ‘What’s so bad about that?’ asked Camelin.

  ‘It’s what they’re planning to cook. Roast dragon is on the menu. Two roasted dragonettes to be precise, tomorrow night.’

  Jack felt sick. His stomach churned. He had so many questions he wanted to ask but couldn’t find his voice.

  ‘Why tomorrow?’ asked Camelin. ‘Why now?’

  The Dorysk sighed deeply.

  ‘The Spriggans were talking about the celebrations. One of them called it the Candleless Feast but I don’t know what all that’s about. What I did find out was that the dragonettes aren’t needed in the mines any more. Now they’ve got the new lights they’re obsolete as candle lighters and from what the Spriggans were saying they’re a real delicacy to eat.’

  Jack was beginning to piece together the situation. It meant the two dragonettes were in grave danger. It was going to be up to him to find a way to save them. They couldn’t rely on Nora’s help because she might not get back from Annwn in time.

  ‘We’ll have to get into Silver Hill tonight,’ said Jack thinking aloud.

  ‘Tonight!’ grumbled Camelin, ‘but we’ve only just got back.’

  ‘I thought you said you were doing this for Charkle. He’s not going to be very happy when he comes back and finds the only two other dragonettes left on earth have been roasted for a Spriggan Feast. We’ve got to go back and rescue them right now.’

  TO THE RESCUE

  No one spoke. Jack’s mind was racing. He knew that making the right decision now was crucial. If he got it wrong he could put everyone in danger. He thought about the two dragonettes. Whether they knew it or not they were in trouble, and without help they’d be roasted for the feast.

  Jack took a deep breath and looked pleadingly at the Dorysk.

  ‘I’ve got a plan but we’re going to need your help again.’

  The Dorysk bowed low to Jack and touched his glasses.

  ‘For you, Jack Brenin, I would do anything.’

  Camelin coughed.

  ‘That’s a bit over the top isn’t it? You don’t even know what he wants you to do.’

  Jack ignored Camelin and began outlining his plan to the Dorysk.

  ‘I’m going to need you to go back through the keyhole once we get to Silver Hill. When you’ve found out exactly where the dragonettes are being kept, you come back and tell us. We’ll go in through the door and rescue them.’

  The Dorysk nodded.

  ‘And just how are you planning to get through the door?’ asked Camelin.

  Jack didn’t want to say anything about Nora’s special key but he didn’t want to lie either.

  ‘I’ll take my wand. It means I’ll have to fly with it in my beak but I don’t think we’re going to be able to rescue the dragonettes without a bit of magic.’

  Camelin seemed to be happy with the answer.

  ‘If you’re going to be able to open the door why don’t I go and get Timmery, he can go in first with the Dorysk. When they’ve found the dragonettes Timmery can come back and lead us in. He’s so brave, he won’t mind.’

  ‘That’s a brilliant idea.’

  Camelin looked surprised.

  ‘It is?’

  ‘Definitely. Do you think you can find him quickly?’

  Camelin shuffled over to the open window and set off towards the church. Once he’d gone Jack turned to the Dorysk.

  ‘When we get there I’m going to open the door.’

  ‘You might need more than magic, depending on what kind of a door it is, and I didn’t see a key. The only thing on the other side of the door was a Bogie hat.’

  ‘A Bogie hat?’

  ‘Yes. You can smell Bogie as soon as you’re in the tunnel. They’ll use any door they can find but I don’t think it started out as a Bogie door, it’s too well made. You find all kinds of doors in all sorts of places, some big, some small. Some belong to the Fair Folk and some the not so Fair Folk. This one might even be a dwindling door.’

  ‘What’s a dwindling door?’

  ‘It’s a special kind of door the Druids used to make long ago. You don’t see many of them these days. They were put in important places that weren’t used very often. If a stranger or unwelcome guest got through the door the Druids would know because each time it was opened without permission it got smaller. If this is a dwindling door you might need a special key to open it.’

  ‘I’ve got a special key, it’s magical key but I don’t want Camelin to know about it.’

  ‘I can keep secrets when I have to. I’ll never trade that piece of information to anyone, I promise.’

  Jack was very grateful to the little Dorysk. He went over to the chair where he’d left his trousers, fished in the pocket and pulled out the ordinary looking key. It was the same shape and size it had been the last time he’d used it in the herborium. To transport it over to Silver Hill he’d need to shrink it even more and put it around his neck. Jack couldn’t see any keyhole small enough in his room. He was contemplating looking in his Book of Shadows for help when he remembered something he’d got in his memory box. He opened the bottom drawer of the dresser and removed an old leather casket. Jack looked at it for a few seconds and ran his hand over the leather before lifting the lid. He rummaged inside until he found a small silver heart on a chain. In the middle of the heart was an open keyhole. It had belonged to his mum and was one of his most treasured possessions. His hand trembled. The key sparkled from inside. Tiny lights danced across the dull metal until the whole key shone. As he moved it towards the locket his fingertips tingled. The key began to shrink until it was a perfect fit. Jack undid the chain and slipped the key onto it before p
utting it back round his neck. It was smaller than the gold chain he wore, which held his acorn, but he knew it would be safe when he transformed and it was lost from sight in his feathers. Jack had only just replaced the box when Timmery flitted into the room.

  ‘Let me introduce you two,’ whispered Jack, but before he could get any further, Camelin flew in, landed heavily on the bed and made the Dorysk bounce up and down several times before he managed to regain his balance.

  ‘Dorysk … Timmery … Timmery … Dorysk,’ said Camelin grumpily, ‘you both know Jack and you both know me. Now can we get on?’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jack. ‘And you’re right, we ought to get going.’

  ‘Oh I do love adventures,’ said Timmery. ‘I’m honoured to be included.’

  ‘I wish I could come with you,’ whispered Orin.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Jack. ‘A Spriggan tunnel is no place for any white rat.’

  ‘I know,’ sighed Orin. ‘You will be careful won’t you?’

  Jack stroked her head to reassure her before turning to Camelin.

  ‘Ready?’

  ‘Ready.’

  ‘Close your eyes everyone,’ said Jack before touching his forehead against Camelin’s.

  Once he’d shaken himself free of his pyjamas he turned to Timmery.

  ‘Hop on.’

  ‘Oh no you don’t,’ interrupted Camelin. ‘I’ll take Timmery, you can have the Dorysk. He wriggles about too much. We’ll see how you like it when you feel itchy all over and can’t have a good scratch.’

  Camelin had already left with Timmery and didn’t see the Dorysk shape-shift into another tiny bat. Jack tried not to laugh.

  ‘Our secret,’ the Dorysk said as he climbed onto Jack’s back. ‘We won’t tell the grumpy one!’

  Jack set off at speed after Camelin into the moonless night with his wand securely held in his beak.

  ‘Ow! Watch what you’re doing with that,’ Camelin grumbled as Jack landed bedside him on the narrow ledge in front of the small door.

  ‘Sorry, I’ve never flown with anything in my beak before.’

  The Dorysk wriggled out of Jack’s feathers and by the time he jumped onto the ledge he was a flea again. Jack looked around. There was a small path leading down the hillside. He gripped the end of his wand with his claws and made a light glow from the tip so they’d be able to see.

 

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