Jack of Kinrowan: Jack the Giant-Killer / Drink Down the Moon

by Charles de Lint

  Well, my head's spinning now, Jacky thought, but it was from success. Out of the ruin of the box she pulled a strange twisting shape of a horn. The gullywudes were a swarm on her, trying to drag her down. Gyre the Younger was looming over her. The other four giants were wading through the Court, knocking their folk every which way in their hurry to get at her. But neither the gullywudes, nor the threat of the giants and their Court, nor the fear of what using that Horn might mean, could stop her now. She dragged her arms up, gullywudes hanging from them, brought the mouthpiece of the Horn to her lips, and blew.

  The sound of it was loud and fierce. At that first blast the Court drew back from her, even the giants. She blew it again and again until its sound was all that filled the cavern – a wild, exulting sound that thrilled the blood in her veins, making it roar in her ears. She could feel its power fill her. The Hunt was coming. The Wild Hunt. And she was its mistress now.

  She stepped away from the throne and Gyre the Younger moved to take it, sitting down to glare at her. The Court had cleared a great space around her. Her friends stood or lay around her. Kate and Eilian. Finn and Arkan. Lorana lay sprawled where her bogan guards had dropped her. There was a pig-headed woman there, too, the one who had stopped the bogans as she'd lunged for the Horn.

  Jacky brought the primitive instrument down from her lips and surveyed the Court. They could all hear it now, a distant sound like the rushing of wind, like the echoes of the Horn's blasts, like answering horns, winding out from dark cold places beyond the stars.

  Of her friends, Eilian was the first to move. He tugged Kate and Moddy Gill, each by an arm, to stand behind Jacky. Finn and Arkan followed, Arkan carrying the frail limp shape of the Laird of Kinrowan's daughter. There were tears in his eyes as he pulled loose the nettle tunic and freed her from the Unseelie spell that had held her.

  But Gyre the Younger, sitting on his dead brother's throne, he never moved. Nor did his Court. They knew well enough that it was not who held the Horn but who blew it, and thereby summoned the riders, that ruled the Hunt. The blasting sound of that Horn had frozen them, sapping their strength, forbidding them to lift a hand against the Jack that the Seelie Court had sent against them.

  And Jacky. The power of command boiled in her. What couldn't she do now, with this Horn in her possession? Then there was no more time to think.

  The Hunt was come.

  They didn't ride their Harleys here. They came on great horned steeds, horses with flanks that glittered like metal, but were scaled like fish scales. Stags' antlers lifted from the brows of the proud mounts. While the riders – they were cloaked in black, each one of them, all nine of them, come to the summoning. The leader stepped his mount closer, its hooves clipping sparks from the stone as it moved. The face that looked down at Jacky was grim, but not unhandsome. It was the eyes that made it alien, for there was no end to their depths. They studied her with disinterest, remotely. Obeying, but not caring who or what it was that summoned them.

  "We have come," the leader said.

  At his words, the cavern seemed to shiver. Jacky's friends and the Unseelie Court alike trembled, wishing they were anywhere but here. Only Jacky stood firm. With the Horn in her hand, nothing could stop her, no one could hurt her. That was what it promised her. But as she opened her mouth to speak, to command the Hunt, to send out the doom that would take down this Unseelie Court, once and forever, Kerevan's words came back to her, as though from a great distance, warning her.

  From one puck to another …

  I'm not a puck, she told that whispering memory, but she knew the words to be a lie. The Jacks were always pucks. They were the fools and the tricksters of Faerie, and knowing that, she knew that Kerevan's true name was Jack as well.

  The Horn is too great a power ….

  But that's just what we need to undo the evil of the Unseelie Court, she replied. Don't you see?

  It corrupts any being that wields it ….

  I'm not going to wield it. I'm only going to use it once – that's all. Just once.

  But she knew that to be a lie as well. Why should she give up the power that the Horn offered her? Why let it fall into another's hands? It was better that she used it. Better that she chose who the Hunt chased, and who it didn't.

  What would you command? the voice of memory forced her to ask herself. That any who disagree with you be slain?

  I won't be like that. I'm fighting evil – I'm not evil myself.

  It corrupts any being that wields it ….

  Then what should I do? she demanded of that memory, but to that question, it remained strangely silent.

  The steeds of the Hunt began to shift as though sensing her indecision. Gyre the Younger stirred on his brother's throne, his hatred for her, for the death she'd brought his brother, for the pain and defeat she'd brought them all, was beginning to overpower his fear of the Hunt. Hadn't his own brother commanded the Hunt before? Wouldn't it sooner listen to him, who knew what he needed done, than to this trembling Jack who stood there overawed by it all?

  Jacky could feel the change in the room. The Horn whispered, telling her of the power that could be hers. The Wild Hunt demanded to know why it was summoned. Kerevan's voice, in her memory, told her she was doomed. Gyre the Younger made ready to take the Horn, as he'd already taken his brother's throne, and crush this Jack under his foot with a pleasure that would never again be equaled.

  I don't know what to do, Jacky admitted to herself.

  Use us, the eyes of the Wild Hunt demanded.

  I am power, the Horn told her. Yours to wield.

  She could use it and doom herself, or not use it and the power would go to Gyre the Younger and doom her anyway. There was no middle road, no road at all. But then she laughed. No road? Wrong! That was a lie! There was only one road she could take and she knew it now. She straightened, stooped shoulders losing their uncertainty. She met the gaze of the Wild Hunt's leader without flinching from its alien depths.

  "Dismount," she said. "Come here to me."

  On the throne, Gyre the Younger froze, uncertain once more. From a small creature weighted down with fear and ignorance, she had gained stature once more.

  Inside her, the Horn's voice exulted. You will not regret the power I can give you, it told her.

  But Jacky only smiled. She watched the Huntsman dismount stiffly and approach her. When he was only a couple of paces away, Jacky reached out with the Horn.

  "Take it," she said.

  The alien depths changed. Confusion swam in the Huntsman's eyes. "Take it?" he asked slowly, not lifting a hand.

  Jacky nodded. "Take it. It's used to command you, isn't it? Well, take it and command yourself."

  Now the gaze measured her carefully. "And what is the bargain you offer?"

  "No bargain. Please. Just take it."

  The Huntsman nodded slowly. "Do you understand what you are doing?"

  Jacky wet her lips. "Yes."

  "Hill and Moon," the Huntsman whispered. "To think such a day could come." He took the Horn reverently from her.

  "NO!" Gyre the Younger roared. "YOU MUSTN'T!"

  "Oh, Jacky!" Kate cried. "What've you done?"

  Consternation lay across all their faces, except for Eilian's. He smiled as understanding came to him.

  "For years beyond count we have answered this Horn's call," the Huntsman said. "Men and faerie both have commanded us. They have had us slay and slay and slay again. They have had us spy for them. They have had us capture their foes, then made us watch them be tortured. But never was there one being that saw beyond the power the Horn offered, to our need."

  The Huntsman bent his knee to Jacky. "Lady, I thank you for our freedom." Then he rose and, dropping the Horn to the stone floor of the cavern, he ground it to pieces underfoot.

  A great wind stirred in the cavern. When they saw the Horn destroyed, the stasis that had bound the Unseelie Court finally fell away. But there was no place for them to flee now. At each entranceway stood one of
the horned steeds of the Hunt, and on its back, a grim-faced Huntsman.

  "Go from here," the leader of the Hunt said to Jacky. "Take your friends and go. There is a reckoning to be made between my brothers and those who rule this Keep, a reckoning that you should not be witness to."

  Jacky nodded. "But … but you're really free now, aren't you?"

  The Huntsman smiled. In his eyes, the alien depths wavered and for one moment Jacky saw a being of kindness look out at her. Then the moment was past.

  "We are truly free," the Huntsman said, "once this final task is done. And this task we do for ourselves. Go now, Jacky Rowan. You have our undying thanks. We will never forget this gift you have given us."

  He touched her shoulder gently and steered her toward the entranceway. One by one her companions fell in step beside her. Kate took her hand.

  "I'm so proud of you," she whispered, for she understood now what Jacky had done.

  Arkan carried the frail body of the Laird's daughter. Eilian and Finn walked with Moddy Gill between them. When they reached the cavernous doors of the Keep's main entrance, the doors swung open to let them out. They went through, and the huge doors thundered closed behind them.

  It was night outside, dark and mysterious, and air had never tasted so clean and fresh before.

  "Now what do we do?" Kate said, thinking of the long way home and how they had only their legs to take them.

  "Now," said a voice from the shadows," I'll take you all home."

  Jacky turned to see Kerevan leaning against a tree. "Did you know what was going to happen in there?" she demanded.

  He shook his head. "Not a bit of it. You did what none of us had even considered, Jacky Rowan. Now, I found this car in a ditch, and with a wally-stane – well, two or three really – I've got it working again. The ride will be more cramped than comfortable, but better than walking, I think."

  "Judith!" Kate cried. "You rescued Judith!"

  "The very vehicle," Kerevan replied.

  "I thought you said your magics were all tricks and illusions," Jacky said as they all made their way down the mountain slope to where the car was waiting for them.

  Kerevan glanced at her, then winked. "I lied," he said.

  Twenty-two

  They gathered in the room of the Gruagagh's Tower that overlooked Windsor Park – what faerie called Learg Green. The room had settled from its shifting shadows and ghostly furnishings into a warm kitchen with chairs for all. Bhruic had removed the last of the spell from Moddy Gill, who proved to be a plain-featured, friendly woman who now sat in a corner of the room with Arkan, telling him how she thought he was rather brave. Arkan appeared entranced. Finn perched on a stool, while Jacky and Eilian sat with Kate in the window seat. Kerevan leaned with studied ease against the door near the hall.

  The Gruagagh looked different. He was no longer dressed in his black robes, but wore trousers and a tunic of various shades of brown and green. And he was smiling. The only one missing of those who had escaped the Giants' Keep was the Laird's daughter, and she was safe at her father's Court once more, with her father's faerie healers to look after her.

  "I have something for you, Jacky," Bhruic said.

  He handed her some official-looking papers, which proved to be the deed to a house. This house, the Gruagagh's Tower. There in black and white was her name, Jacqueline Elizabeth Rowan. The owner of a new home.

  "I told you I didn't want anything," Jacky said.

  "Someone must live in the Gruagagh's Tower and who better than the Court's own Jack?"

  "Where are you going?" she asked.

  "I have a bargain with Kerevan to fulfill," he replied.

  Kerevan grinned at Jacky when she turned to him, and gave her a mocking but friendly tug of the forelock. "And yes," he said, "I'm a Jack, too, though my Jack days are gone now. Jack Gooseberry was the name then, and wasn't I the wild one?"

  "Too wild," Bhruic said wryly.

  Jacky looked at him, a furrow in her brow. "I'd like to know why," she said.

  Bhruic sighed. "Why what?"

  "Why couldn't you just have told us everything? Why were you so unfriendly? Why didn't you help more?"

  Bhruic looked uncomfortable. He glanced at Kerevan, but there was no help there. The others in that room, except for Moddy Gill, were all giving him their full attention, for they, too, wanted the answer to those questions.

  Bhruic sighed again and pulled a chair closer to the window seat. "I didn't trust you," he said. "It was too convenient, a Jack out of nowhere, willing to help. Kate Crackernuts at her side. I thought you were one more attempt by the Host to pry me from my Tower. They knew my weakness better than my own Lairdsfolk ever did."

  "Always sticking your nose in where it didn't have to go," Kerevan said.

  "Always wanting to help those in trouble," Bhruic corrected him.

  Kerevan shrugged. "Different ways of saying the same thing, that's all."

  "I wanted to believe in you, Jacky Rowan," Bhruic went on. "Truly I did. But there was too much at stake. If it had been just myself, I would have taken the chance. But there was all of Kinrowan to think of as well."

  She held up the deed to the Tower. "So now you're going and leaving me with this."

  Bhruic nodded.

  "But Samhain Eve's still coming, and Kinrowan needs its Gruagagh."

  "The Laird's daughter will be recovered enough by then, and we don't have the Unseelie Court to worry about, at least not this year. They'll grow strong again, they always do, but it will take time."

  "But there's still got to be a gruagagh …."

  "I thought a Jack such as you would be more than enough to take my place," Bhruic said.

  "But I don't have any magics."

  "Well, now," Kerevan said. "You've at least nine wally-stanes, and if you're sparing with them, and use your noggin a bit, you should do fine."

  "But –"

  "Oh, just think," Kate said. "Your own house. I think that's wonderful."

  "But it's so big," Jacky protested halfheartedly.

  She caught a smile pass between Bhruic and Kerevan, and knew what they were thinking: She wanted to live here. She wanted to be Kinrowan's Jack. She didn't ever want to not know the magic of Faerie. They were right.

  "If it's too big for you," Kate said, "then I'll move in with you. I'm not too proud to invite myself."

  "So's it going to be a commune already?" Jacky asked. Her gaze flitted from Finn to Arkan.

  "Not me," Finn said. "I've already got a snug little place just down the way from here, but I'll be dropping by for a hot cuppa from time to time. And there's always that comfortable perch in your tree between the Tower's garden and Learg Green – a fine place for a hob. You'll see me there, often enough."

  "I'm thinking of getting myself a wagon and pony," Arkan said, "and travelling some again. It's been years since I've seen the old haunts and Moddy here could use a new view or two."

  It wasn't hard to see that they were already an item, Jacky thought. And speaking of items … Shyer now, her gaze moved to Eilian. She was still attracted to the Lairdling, but wasn't sure how much of that was just rebounding from Will and latching on to the first available – and gorgeous, she added to herself, let's admit it – fellow that came along.

  Eilian smiled and lifted the hair at the back of his neck where the braids his Billy Blind had plaited hung. "I've one knot left," he said. "I wouldn't want to bring more trouble to you – I don't doubt you've seen enough to last a lifetime. But if there's room, I'd like to stay, at least till you're settled in."

  "You see?" Bhruic said. "It's all settled."

  "How come everybody settles things for me, but me?" Jacky wanted to know.

  Bhruic smiled, but it was a serious smile. "I think that you settled everything yourself, Jacky Rowan, in a way that no other could, or perhaps even would have. You're the best Jack Faerie's known since, oh –"

  "Me," Kerevan said without any pretense at modesty.

  Jacky rol
led her eyes. "Does this mean I have to learn to play the fiddle now?"

  Kerevan shrugged. "There's worse fates."

  "But not many," Bhruic added. "It's when you're learning the fiddle that you find out who your real friends are. It's no wonder they call it the devil's own instrument."

  * * *

  It was almost morning before those who were going actually took their leave. Arkan and Moddy Gill had slipped away rather quickly, and Finn was asleep in one corner, with Kate nodding in another, when the Gruagagh, Kerevan, Eilian and Jacky went out into the park.

  "I'm sorry it was so hard for you, Jacky," Bhruic said. "I'm sorry there was too much to risk that I couldn't trust your freely offered help. And as for that silence the last time you stayed in my Tower, you've Kerevan here to blame for that. It was part of my bargain for your safety that I not see you or speak to you of our bargain."

  "I know," Jacky said. "I just wish you weren't going away without my ever getting to know you. Why do you have to go now anyway? There's no more danger."

  "But that's just it. I never wanted the mantle of a gruagagh. I was a poet first and a harper, Jacky." He nudged Kerevan. "This lug here was my master in those trades. Now that I know Kinrowan's safe, I can go back to being what I want to be."

  "But what about me? What if I don't want to be Kinrowan's protector?"

  "Don't you?"

  That smile was back on the Gruagagh's lips again. Jacky thought about it, about Faerie and how her life had been before she fell into it. She shook her head. "If that's what it takes to live in Faerie, then I'll do it."

  "You could live in Faerie without it."

  "Yes, but then I'd just be wasting my time again. Now at least I'll have something meaningful to do."

  "Just so."

  "Except I don't know what it is that I am supposed to do."