‘Caw!’ he exclaimed. ‘Nora, look!’
‘Is everything alright?’
‘Yes,’ they both replied.
‘Touch your foreheads together and you should be able to change back again.’
Jack hadn’t anticipated changing back so soon. He hadn’t got used to the sensation of transforming into a raven and now he was going to have to do it again in reverse. The cloak felt heavy as it engulfed him. Camelin leaned forward and they put their foreheads together. A bright light, as dazzling as the sunrise had been, flashed outwards from the point where their brows touched. Again Jack was blinded. He must remember to close his eyes the next time he transformed.
The crushing pain returned for a few seconds but he knew instinctively, without looking at his reflection, that he was a boy again. His whole body ached. It was painful climbing down the rocks to the crevice where his clothes were hidden. He found it difficult to dress, his hands were shaking so much.
‘I’m glad we don’t have to come up here every time I need to change into a raven,’ he told Camelin.
‘Now the ritual is complete. All you have to do is put your foreheads together and the transformation will take place. You can do it anywhere you want in future,’ explained Nora.
Jack felt very tired and walked a little way behind Nora as they made their way back to Ewell House. Camelin had offered to fly ahead and report back to Elan. Jack secretly wondered if he’d been eager to get back first so he could find out what was for breakfast.
By the time Nora and Jack entered the kitchen Elan had scrambled eggs, toast and a pot of tea ready.
‘That’s just what I need,’ said Nora gratefully. ‘Help yourself.’
‘Don’t mind if I do!’ croaked Camelin as he tucked into more than his fair share of breakfast.
Jack slumped into the chair and slept.
When he woke he ached all over. Nora was busy in the kitchen.
‘How long have I been asleep?’
‘Since we got back from The Raven’s Bowl. About a couple of hours. How do you feel?’
‘Like I’ve been squashed.’
‘It’ll wear off. I don’t think you’ll feel like this every time you transform, I’m sure it will get easier.’
Camelin swooped into the kitchen and landed gracefully on Nora’s shoulder.
‘OK,’ he croaked. ‘When you’ve eaten we might as well make a start on your flying lesson.’
‘So soon?’ groaned Jack.
‘No time like the present. I’ll see you upstairs when you’re done.’
Jack hadn’t realised he’d be transforming again so soon. So much had happened since he’d arrived at Grandad’s. He knew he’d never be the same again. Now he was a raven boy, just like Camelin, but would he feel differently about flying and have the instincts of a bird as Arrana had said? He was about to find out.
FLYING LESSONS
Jack couldn’t eat much breakfast and when he’d finished he went up to the attic. He stopped at the bottom of the ladder. His KEEP OUT sign was still there. He shouted to Camelin.
‘Can I come up?’
‘Are you alone?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then it’s OK. Come up.’
Jack wondered why Camelin was being so secretive but as soon as he put his head through the trap-door he understood. The contents of Camelin’s emergency ration basket were strewn over the floor. He’d begun sorting them into piles.
‘Just counting,’ he explained. ‘I’m good at counting.’
Jack watched as Camelin lovingly replaced his stash piece by piece into the basket.
‘Did you bring me anything for your flying lesson?’
Jack had some chocolate bars packed in his bag. He’d remembered to put a couple in his pocket when he returned the golden acorn to his bedroom.
‘Hope you like these!’
Camelin took the bars and tossed them into the basket. He looked very pleased.
‘That’s twenty-nine,’ he announced, ‘and milk chocolate is one of my favourites.’
Jack suspected anything to do with chocolate would be a favourite for Camelin. He checked to make sure there was nothing sticky around the trap-door before pulling himself into the loft.
‘Mind where you put your feet and try not to move things around or I’ll never find anything.’
Jack waited until Camelin made a space then quickly undressed.
‘Are you ready?’
Jack nodded and bent his head towards Camelin. They touched foreheads. The blinding flash hurt Jack’s eyes again even though they were tightly shut. When he opened them he’d transformed into a raven.
‘Wow!’ This is fantastic. What do I do?’ he croaked as he flapped his wings up and down in the small loft space.
‘Slow down! Slow down! Stop! You’ve got to learn to walk first before you can fly.’
Jack didn’t realise Camelin was being serious but when he stopped flapping and took a couple of steps he found walking wasn’t as easy as he’d thought it would be. It wasn’t what he was used to. His feet wanted to hop, skip and shuffle. Walking became more like dancing.
‘Not bad,’ encouraged Camelin, ‘but you look a mess. What’s wrong with your feathers?’
Jack inspected his wings and tried to look at his back.
‘No, on your head. Some of them are sticking up.’
Camelin tried to flatten the feathers but just when he thought he’d got them all straight one would spring out again.
‘I give up,’ he croaked, and raised both wings in the air.
‘I can never get my hair to stay flat either.’
‘I thought that’s because you hadn’t combed it. I don’t seem to be able to do much about your feathers; you’ll have to do. Come on. We’re wasting time. Let’s get outside; we’ll have more room to practice in the garden.’
Jack made his way to the window and looked down. His spindly legs started to wobble.
‘It’s a long way down to the garden.’
‘Not that way. Follow me. Elan’s got a surprise!’
Jack followed Camelin as best he could down the ladder. They made their way to an open window on the other side of the room. There was a large basket hanging outside with a very thick rope attached to it.
‘Come on, climb in,’ said Camelin excitedly.
Jack shuffled up a plank that had been leant against the window ledge.
‘Going down!’ shouted Camelin when they were both inside.
Elan was below operating a pulley. She lowered the basket steadily onto the grass below.
‘I didn’t expect both of you to be inside. You should have flown down Camelin.’
‘I had to make sure Jack was all right,’ he told Elan before winking at Jack.
‘You’re just a very lazy raven,’ she replied trying to look cross.
Camelin hopped out. Jack managed to hop onto the rim then down onto the grass.
‘OK. Let’s start with the basics,’ Camelin said and demonstrated to Jack what he wanted him to do by hopping around on one foot first, then the other, then both together. ‘Now you.’
Elan laughed and gave Jack a clap when he managed to follow Camelin around the garden.
‘See you later,’ she shouted before disappearing into the house.
Jack listened carefully to Camelin and followed his instructions. The basic groundwork seemed to go well and in no time at all he was hopping, skipping and scurrying around the lawn.
‘What do you want to do now?’ asked Camelin.
Jack didn’t want to think about flying just yet. He was happy keeping his feet on the ground for as long as possible.
‘We could play football.’
‘Don’t know how to play football.’
‘I’ll teach you, but we’ll need a ball.’
‘Let’s go and ask Nora. She might have something we could use.’
Nora rummaged in one of the kitchen drawers and eventually found an old table tennis ball.
‘Will this do?’
‘Great,’ Camelin replied.
‘What on earth are you going to do with it?’
‘Football,’ Jack and Camelin said together before hopping back into the garden.
‘OK,’ said Jack. ‘Let’s get started.’
He explained the rules and between them they made two goals at either end of the lawn with some empty plant pots. An interested pigeon settled onto the repaired bird table to watch them. It was harder than Jack imagined trying to kick a ball with claws. He managed to get the ball through the goalposts twice. Camelin had yet to score. When it was Camelin’s turn to start with the ball Jack hopped towards him to tackle. Camelin bent over, picked the ball up in his beak and skipped off towards the goalmouth.
‘Handball,’ yelled Jack. ‘You can’t do that! It’s against the rules.’
‘Haven’t got any hands,’ Camelin tried to shout back with the ball in his beak.
‘Beak ball then,’ said Jack indignantly. ‘That’s not allowed either.’
Camelin grudgingly brought the ball back to the centre.
‘You didn’t say anything about beak ball when we started,’ he grumbled.
The play continued for a while until Elan came out and shouted to them to see if they wanted a drink.
Jack had begun to walk towards the patio when Camelin yelled. He turned around; the ball was between the plant pots.
‘You cheated!’
‘Didn’t,’ replied Camelin.
‘It doesn’t count if you picked it up.’
When Camelin didn’t answer Jack went over to the pigeon.
‘Did you see what he did?’
The pigeon didn’t answer and Camelin burst out laughing,
‘You won’t get an answer out of him. He won’t understand you.’
‘I thought I’d be able to speak to all the birds once I was a raven.’
‘Only intelligent birds, like ravens. Pigeons don’t talk.’
It was then that Jack saw the dent in the side of the ball.
‘You did use your beak. You’ve squashed it!’
‘Ooooh look!’ exclaimed Camelin, quickly changing the subject. ‘Elan’s got some cake.’
He left Jack and flew over to the picnic table where Elan had put the tray.
‘Come on Jack, it’s chocolate cake,’ he shouted excitedly.
Jack left the ball and hopped over to the bench but couldn’t get up. Elan leant the broom against the table and Jack managed to do a sideways shuffle to the top.
‘I’m starving,’ he said when he saw the cake.
‘See. I keep telling everyone. It’s hungry work being a raven.’
‘Jack didn’t have much breakfast unlike some I could mention,’ said Elan looking directly at Camelin.
They were both allowed two pieces of cake, which they ate greedily.
‘What are we going to do now? We haven’t got a ball to play with any more.’ Jack said when he’d finished.
Camelin was working his way around the table making sure they hadn’t left any crumbs.
‘Don’t be so mean,’ said Elan. ‘Leave some for the sparrows.’
‘But they’re my crumbs!’ exclaimed Camelin in horror. ‘I’m not allowed on the bird table so why should they be allowed on the picnic table?’
‘I thought it was only starlings you didn’t like,’ said Jack.
‘Starlings and sparrows,’ confirmed Camelin. ‘They’d steal the crumbs out of your beak if you let them.’
‘Take no notice of him Jack,’ continued Elan. ‘He’s got a problem about most of the birds that come in the garden.’
‘What’s wrong with sparrows?’ asked Jack.
Elan sighed, picked up the tray and left Jack to hear all about sparrows from Camelin.
‘They’re stupid,’ he began. ‘They get all nervous because they think a wolf might jump out and eat them up.’
‘Wolf!’
‘Yes,’ confirmed Camelin. ‘Centuries ago Dagbert, king of the sparrows, was eaten by a wolf and the story’s been passed down from sparrow to sparrow for generations.’
‘But there aren’t any wolves left in Britain.’
‘You try telling a sparrow that!’ replied Camelin. ‘I told you they were stupid.’
Jack would liked to have heard more about Dagbert and the wolf but Camelin decided it was time to continue with Jack’s lesson. He shuffled over to the broom and kicked it away from the table.
‘Ready to try a small glide now?’
Jack had been having great fun playing football but this was different. He’d no idea what to do. Any instinct he should have, as a bird, hadn’t appeared yet.
‘Watch me,’ said Camelin as he spread his wings and glided gracefully onto the ground. ‘Now you.’
Jack’s claws gripped the table. His spindly legs shook. He spread his wings, took a deep breath and stepped off the edge. He wobbled rather than glided to the grass and had to skip a couple of steps so he didn’t topple over as he landed.
‘That wasn’t too bad was it?’ he asked.
‘You’re going to have to do a lot better than that,’ grumbled Camelin.
‘Well I can’t get back up on top to have another go. Someone kicked the broom away.’
Camelin looked around the garden.
‘I know. Follow me.’
They went down to the rockery by the hedge where Camelin had his secret cave. There were large rocks dotted around the raised bank but the far side had a vertical drop into the flowerbed.
‘This is perfect,’ croaked Camelin.
Jack had to agree. The top of the rockery wasn’t as high as the picnic table.
Jack felt a bit more confident practising gliding from here. It would be easy to climb up the rocks and the landing would be soft if he crashed.
Stepping off wasn’t easy, but once Jack plucked up the courage to leave the highest rock he managed to glide down with his wings outspread. His landing wasn’t very graceful but it was only his second try. After half an hour he’d improved considerably. Camelin showed Jack how to use his wings for assisted hopping. They practised on the lower branches of the fir trees by the picnic table. Soon Jack was able to hop from the grass to the branch, onto the table then glide back onto the grass.
‘This is great. Can we go higher?’ he asked.
‘No problem,’ replied Camelin.
Jack was on the second branch when Nora and Elan came out to check on his progress.
‘What are you doing?’ cried Nora. ‘Stay there, I’ll come and get you.’
It was too late. Nora’s cry startled Jack. He lost his footing and his concentration. He croaked loudly as he toppled off the branch.
‘Jack!’ Nora shouted.
Instead of plummeting to the ground, he spread his wings instinctively, then raised and lowered them powerfully. He rose rapidly into the air.
‘Look, I’m flying!’ he croaked excitedly.
He fell even faster than he’d gone up.
Camelin covered his eyes with his wings. Nora and Elan stood with their mouths open then dashed towards Jack as he crashed into the flowerbed.
‘You have to keep flapping your wings if you want to fly,’ croaked Camelin.
Jack groaned.
‘Come on, If you don’t get up we’re in trouble,’ Camelin whispered when he saw Nora and Elan rushing over to where Jack lay.
Nora fussed over him then frowned at Camelin.
‘I thought we agreed you’d just to do the basic training today. Groundwork we said. There wasn’t any mention of trees.’
‘It’s my fault. I asked to go higher,’ admitted Jack. ‘I’m OK, nothing’s broken.’
‘Well, I think you’ve probably done enough for today.’
Nora went into the herborium and came out with her cloak. She draped it over Jack so only his head poked out.
‘If you transform down here you won’t have a problem getting upstairs.’
Jack and Camelin touched foreheads. The flash of light frightened
several sparrows from the bird table. Jack was sure he heard Camelin laugh.
‘We’ll have a picnic lunch by the lake, so when you’re ready come and join us,’ said Nora.
‘We’ll tell you more about the cauldron,’ added Elan.
‘Can I tell him about the Treasures of Annwn,’ Camelin asked excitedly.
‘I don’t see why not,’ agreed Nora, ‘but just keep to the facts.
By the time Jack was changed he felt hot and sticky. Even with the window open the heat in the loft from the midday sun was almost unbearable. It wasn’t much better on the patio. When he got down to the lake everyone was underneath one of the great willows. Nora had spread a rug out and Elan was helping her to unpack a large basket. It was cooler by the water and the long slender leaves of the willow swayed gently to and fro providing them with a constant breeze.
‘I’ve brought these to show you Jack,’ said Nora as she took something from the bottom of the picnic basket.
Jack watched as Nora laid a package, wrapped in cloth, carefully on the rug. It was tied with a cord but instead of undoing the knot she took out her wand and tapped the package three times. The cord fell apart and the cloth peeled itself back to reveal three metal objects. They were the same shape and size, one piled on top of the other. They didn’t shine or sparkle and didn’t look expensive but the green metal they were made from made them look old. He’d seen something like them before, but not this shape. These were like the shin pads he wore for football, only with holes down each side.
‘When you go through the window in time you’ll be looking for three plates like these,’ explained Nora.
‘The cauldron plates!’
‘Yes. Each has a different tree embossed in the bronze.’
Elan pointed to each of the plates in turn.
‘These are the beech, pine and holly, which I look after.’
‘I’ve got the hazel, apple and elm and Arrana keeps the rowan, ash and birch safe,’ explained Nora.
‘The missing plates are the ones I collected from the hawthorn, oak and willow wells,’ sighed Camelin. ‘Those are the ones we’ll be looking for.
Jack looked puzzled.
‘But I thought there were thirteen altogether?’
‘The last one isn’t this shape,’ explained Elan. ‘It’s the base plate…’
The Golden Acorn Page 11
