Dragonfire

by Anne Forbes

  The MacArthur snorted. “Very little happens to that crown by accident, Sir James! But go on nevertheless.”

  “You see, Arthur and I chose the same spot to hide in. He’d spent a lot of time searching the loch before he found the water goblins and it so happened that the crown was among the weeds that fringed their trench. In fact, he managed to get his chin stuck between two of its prongs. That’s when I swam into the picture, so to speak.”

  “What did you do?” asked Rothlan with interest.

  “Quite frankly, there isn’t a lot you can do when you’re a fish,” admitted Sir James with a rueful smile. “Really, the only option open to us was to try to get the crown to the surface before the serpent noticed. Arthur almost made it, you know, but never in my life have I seen anything move as fast as that serpent! Anyhow, it has met its end now!”

  “It was alive when it fell into the water!” Clara shivered at the memory of its shriek of agony as it fell crashing back into the loch.

  Sir James looked at her and his voice was gentle. “It actually fell back into the water in the nick of time, Clara, for by then the water goblins had spotted me. The serpent’s return threw them into a panic but the moment they saw that it was injured they set on it!” And although his tone was casual, Sir James knew that he would never forget the thrashing, agonizing end of the serpent.

  “Does that mean that Prince Kalman is dead?” asked Neil doubtfully.

  Rothlan gave a harsh laugh. “If only it did! Knowing Kalman, I wouldn’t bank on it.” He rose to his feet and strolled to look out of the windows. “Even now, Amgarad and the eagles are busy patrolling the borders, although I doubt if they’ll see him, far less catch him. He could merge with anything, bird or beast, and make his escape across the mountains.”

  “Aye! He’s a slippery character that one!” muttered the MacArthur. “But tell me, Sir James, what do you think? Does Kalman have the crown?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” answered Sir James slowly. “I’m tempted to think that he doesn’t, but I might well be mistaken.”

  “We know where it fell,” Lady Ellan interrupted. “Surely we could send search parties to see if it’s there. Personally though, I’m tempted to leave it where it is.”

  “You’re wrong, Ellan,” said the MacArthur, shaking his head. “For good or ill, the crown has to be found. Alasdair will agree with me, I’m sure. It’s not the sort of thing one leaves lying around, m’dear.”

  “You’re right, MacArthur,” nodded Rothlan. “If it’s in the loch, it must be found. If it isn’t, then we must inform the Lords of the North.”

  The MacArthur smiled sourly. “If that doesn’t stir them, nothing will! The thought of Kalman in possession of the crown is enough to give them more than a few sleepless nights! He’s been trying to become Master of the Council for years!”

  “With your permission, MacArthur, perhaps Arthur could stay here for a while and help with the search?” suggested Rothlan. “Archie, too, of course.”

  “A good idea,” approved the MacArthur. “I’m sure they’d be willing to help you in any way they can.”

  At that moment, Amgarad flew in through the open window and perched on the arm of his master’s chair. Rothlan’s face was transformed as he looked at his now majestic eagle. “Well, Amgarad?” he smiled, “what have you to report?”

  “The water goblins have left Jarishan, Master. Their fear is terrible and they are following the sheep tracks to the north. But of Prince Kalman there is no sign at all.”

  Rothlan nodded his head. “It is as I expected. You’ve done well, Amgarad. Now that darkness has fallen I’ll put the magic shield around us again. Tonight we can all sleep in safety.”

  34. A Matter of Time

  The next morning saw the MacArthur and his men preparing to make the journey back to Edinburgh. Although there was much hustle and bustle outside the walls of the castle, breakfast in the great dining room was a quiet meal with everyone busy with their own thoughts. Sir James and Dougal MacLeod would have liked to stay longer but thoughts of the Tattoo were pressing. Neil and Clara, however, were of one mind; they wanted to stay in Jarishan forever. Neil longed to explore the stretches of woodland that lay on the far shores of the loch and Clara wanted to see the red deer on the mountains. Lady Ellan, too, would have liked to spend a few more days in the country as her mother’s family was Highland and she was more at home above the ground than in the dark caverns that lay under Arthur’s Seat. She didn’t voice her thoughts, however, as she knew how much her father relied on her.

  “You’re all very quiet this morning,” Rothlan observed as a servant removed his empty plate and poured him a cup of coffee. “Are you not looking forward to returning to Edinburgh?”

  “No,” said Clara truthfully, “we like it here.”

  Rothlan glanced around the table. “And I,” he laughed, “am in love with the hustle and bustle of the city. Edinburgh caught my heart but when you leave I know that much of my time will have to be spent repairing the castle. I’m hoping though that if everything is finished by the spring, you could all come up and spend a few weeks here at Jarishan.”

  There was a delighted murmur of thanks from everyone around the table. Neil and Clara were ecstatic. “That’d be great! Thank you, Lord Rothlan!” Neil’s eyes were shining. “Do you think Hector would take us into the mountains to see the deer?”

  “I’m sure he would!” Rothlan smiled.

  “And I’ll see Amgarad again,” smiled Clara happily.

  “We will come with pleasure,” said the MacArthur, “and you know that you’re always welcome to stay with us in Edinburgh. If Kalman causes trouble then we may have to meet up at some point. Anyway, there are always the crystals.”

  The knowledge that they would return to Jarishan made their parting less difficult. Final goodbyes were said as the magic carpets were summoned. Arthur and Archie, who had been quite willing to stay and help Rothlan search the loch, wished everyone a safe journey and all too soon, it seemed, they were in the air again, flying back to Edinburgh.

  Jarishan seemed empty after the MacArthurs had left but, as he had said, Lord Rothlan had many things to attend to. His plans for the castle, however, had to be put on hold when the Lords of the North, anxious to hear what Prince Kalman had been up to, summoned him to appear before their Council.

  Amgarad, too, had plans. With Archie’s help, the remains of his burnt-out nest were swept away and he built himself a new one in the topmost tower of the castle. The thorny scrub of the winter years had disappeared from the hillside and for his new nest he used heather and soft bracken. When it was built, he lined it with the fur that Clara had given him. It was the one she had wrapped him in when he had lost his feathers and, during the cold winter months when the wind howled and blizzards blew over Jarishan, he snuggled, grateful and contented, in its warm, comfortable depths.

  Arthur and Archie stayed on at Jarishan until it became obvious that they were not going to find the Sultan’s Crown. Archie had helped Arthur in his search but, as day after day passed and they returned empty-handed to the castle, Lord Rothlan finally called a halt for, as he said, had the crown lain where it had fallen, it would surely have been found within the first few days of their search. Either Prince Kalman had it, they decided, or the crown itself didn’t want to be found. Rothlan bade them farewell with a shade of worry clouding his eyes. Could Kalman have taken the crown after all?

  Although they were sad to leave Lord Rothlan and Amgarad, it was also true that both Arthur and Archie missed the company of the MacArthurs and were anxious to hear what was going on in Edinburgh.

  Many weeks had passed since the others had left on their carpets and, indeed, for Sir James, MacLeod, the Ranger and his children, it had been a strange return to Edinburgh. So accustomed had they become to magic carpets and dragons that the ordinariness of everyday life seemed dull in the extreme. The weather didn’t help either as Edinburgh was blanketed in a morning mist so thick that,
had the carpets not known their way, they could have missed the hill entirely.

  “Wow!” said Neil when he finally scrambled off his carpet inside the hill, “did you see the mist? It’s almost as thick as the one that was on the hill the first time we met Amgarad. Doesn’t that seem ages ago?”

  Clara, who had cried and hugged Amgarad before she left, shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe they were … are … the same bird. I adore Amgarad now.”

  “He adores you too, next after Lord Rothlan that is!”

  “Well, you two,” said Sir James, walking up to them. “It’s strange being back inside the hill again, isn’t it?”

  Clara looked round doubtfully. “It’s not the same as before, though. Then we were starting out on an adventure and now nothing exciting will ever happen again.”

  “Well I don’t know about that! I still have the Tattoo to contend with this evening,” said Sir James with a smile. “At least,” he said slyly, “there won’t be any pigeons around to spook the walkways, which is a relief!” They were still laughing when they saw Dougal MacLeod and the Ranger making their way towards them through the melee of carpets that were arriving all the time.

  “I’ve just been wondering about the Tattoo tonight, James.” MacLeod said worriedly.

  The MacArthur heard him as he came striding over, still heady with relief at the way things had gone at Jarishan.

  “Don’t worry about the Tattoo at all, either of you! I have everything in hand. Believe me it will go brilliantly.”

  “The statues in George Street,” said MacLeod suddenly. “People will be wondering …”

  “I assure you, Dougal,” said the MacArthur, “that when you next walk down George Street, you’ll find that the statues will be there. As far as the people of Edinburgh are concerned, they will never have disappeared!”

  “But they did,” said a frowning Dougal. “I hexed them!”

  “And I will hex them back again. Don’t worry,” he smiled. “It’ll all work out in the end. See now, what I’ve done is this,” said the MacArthur, drawing them round. “During the journey back I gave the matter some thought and I decided that the best thing to do would be to cast a memory spell so that the days of the past will only be real for us, and no one else.”

  “You can do that?” Sir James looked at him sharply.

  “Aye! The firestones, Sir James, have given us tremendous power for good. Nobody will know the difference, I assure you.”

  “What a relief that is!” sighed Dougal. He glanced around at them all. “MacArthur,” he said, shaking him by the hand, “you’re a magician and a half! A magician and a half!”

  The MacArthur proved true to his word. The first thing Dougal MacLeod did was to drive to the middle of town and check up on the statues in George Street. There they stood; solid as rocks! Dougal vowed there and then, never to utter a word against them again.

  While memory spells had their advantages, there was, however, more than one downside. Ranger MacLean realized it when he got home and found that his wife had no memory of anything that had happened.

  “You must remember Neil coming home that night with his jacket all torn,” he said, “and I told you how we met the MacArthurs and were going to Jarishan!”

  “No, I don’t,” she insisted, looking quite upset. “I don’t remember anything at all! I think you’re having me on!”

  “Well,” said Neil, meeting his father’s glance doubtfully, “at least we know that the MacArthur’s spell is working!”

  Clara saw tears in her mother’s eyes. “Mum,” she said, “we wouldn’t fool you, you know that!”

  “Magic carpets!” Mrs MacLean muttered as she went on laying the table for lunch. “You’ve been reading too many of these fantasy adventure stories, Clara.”

  “Hang on,” Neil said excitedly, “we can still call our carpets, can’t we?”

  His father’s face cleared and he smiled suddenly. “Brilliant, Neil!” he said, turning to his wife. “Come into the garden, Janet and we’ll show you that what we’ve been saying is the truth!”

  Mrs MacLean watched as they clapped their hands and said “carpet” in loud voices. She looked doubtfully around as nothing happened and would have gone back indoors if her husband hadn’t gripped her arm.

  “Trust me, Janet! They’ll be here in a minute!”

  Then, as Mrs MacLean looked on in amazement, three carpets sailed smoothly over the garden wall to hover gently in front of them.

  Neil clambered onto his carpet and his mother gasped as he disappeared. “You’d better take Mum for a ride on your carpet, Dad,” he said, jumping back down onto the path. “She’ll never believe in magic otherwise.”

  “Get on the carpet, Janet,” urged the Ranger, helping her onto it and holding her tightly. Neil looked at Clara and grinned as the carpet disappeared and they heard their mother laughing excitedly as it circled the garden.

  “Well, Mum,” Clara ran to hug her mother as she appeared again, “do you believe us now?”

  “I do,” she said as they trooped back into the house. “Really, John, this is fantastic!”

  It was while they were having lunch round the kitchen table that Clara suddenly had a dreadful thought.

  “Dad!” she said, sitting bolt upright in her chair. “Dad! If … if mum couldn’t remember a thing about what’s been going on then it means that poor little Mischief will still be a stray! Mr MacGregor won’t remember having taken her in!”

  The Ranger looked at his wife, who had just finished hearing all about Archie, Mischief and Mr MacGregor. “Would you mind giving a home to a wee cat?” he asked.

  She looked round the table at their anxious faces, still more than a bit baffled at the stories they were telling her. Faeries in Arthur’s Seat were one thing but dragons and great eagles were quite another. Thank goodness, she thought, that it was only a cat they wanted to bring into the house.

  “Of course, you can bring it here,” she said weakly.

  The Ranger smiled at Neil and Clara. “Why don’t you go up to the school this afternoon then and see if you can find her,” he said. “Take a big cardboard box to carry her in.”

  “Can we really, Dad?” Neil jumped to his feet in excitement. “I’m sure she’d like being with us better than old MacG … sorry, Mr MacGregor. Not that there’s anything wrong with Mr MacGregor but a school’s not as comfortable as a home, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t,” smiled his mother, “you go and fetch her!”

  After lunch, Neil and Clara hurriedly made their way to school. Mr MacGregor, who was standing in the playground amid a pile of boxes, didn’t notice them at first as he was busily consulting a clip-board.

  “Hello, Mr MacGregor!” Neil greeted him tentatively.

  “Hello there, you two! Tired of being on holiday already, are you?”

  “Being on holiday’s great,” Clara assured him, “but we’ve really come for that little cat. You know, the black and white one!”

  “Oh … it! It’s somewhere around, I dare say.”

  “Dad said we could give it a home,” explained Neil. “So we’ve come to fetch it.”

  “Aye, well! It’ll put on weight if it goes to your house. A grand cook, your mother!”

  “We’ll just go round the playground to look for her then, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Aye! You do that. And tell your dad that I was asking for him. We’ll have to get together soon. I’ve a big darts match coming up!”

  Neil and Clara walked round the playground and, sure enough, there was Mischief perched on the playground wall.

  “Mum’s going to freak!” Neil said worriedly. “She’s expecting a decent-looking animal and Mischief isn’t even half-decent. She’s scraggy!”

  But Mrs Maclean and the little cat got on very well together and it didn’t take Mischief long to become part of the MacLean family. Everyone spoiled her and as the weeks went by she put on weight and the memory of past hardships faded. This was
especially true when the weather became really cold and she stretched blissfully on the rug in front of the living room fire and slept the day away.

  35. Here Be Dragons

  Clara and Neil visited the hill once or twice after their return but somehow it just wasn’t the same without Arthur and Archie. They went back to school at the end of August and were soon laden with homework, book reports and project work. One cold morning, when they were sitting on a low wall in the playground, eating their sandwiches, Neil saw old MacGregor walking towards the gate.

  “Congratulations, Mr MacGregor,” he called.

  The janny smiled and walked over to them. “Aye! Did ye hear about it, then?”

  “Dad told us last night,” Clara said. “You won the darts final for the East of Scotland!”

  “I did that! And now I’m entered for the Scottish Open Championships!” He looked suddenly worried, for he had not yet come to terms with his quite phenomenal rise to fame in the darts’ world. “I’ll be up against the big boys then! I hope my luck holds out!”

  Neil and Clara exchanged a look that spoke volumes. “Mr MacGregor,” said Clara solemnly, “from the way my dad said you played last night — cool as a cucumber and totally sure of yourself — well, we think you’re destined to go right to the top. Don’t you agree, Neil?”

  Neil nodded. “I’m absolutely certain, Mr MacGregor. Believe me; you’ll have magic in your fingers! There’s no doubt about it! You’ll win!”

  When the janny had left them to attend to some parents by the gate, Neil and Clara looked at one another. “The MacArthur really has been busy, hasn’t he,” Neil remarked.

  “Definitely!” nodded Clara.

  “I think he’s thrown some magic my way as well, you know. I really find school work easy this year.”

  “So do I. But most of all, I’ve stopped being afraid of the dark. You’ve no idea what it was like! At night, even though I knew for sure that there was no one else in the house, I used to be scared to go downstairs for a glass of water. Now I can even see in the dark in a funny kind of way. Like the negative of a photograph.”