Dragonfire Page 8

  Hamish then demerged from his pigeon, looking strained and anxious. “Sir James, please. You must come. We badly need your help, you don’t know how much! Many things happened after you and Arthur left last night and the MacArthur needs to see you, especially now that the Ranger can’t come.”

  “What’s the matter with the Ranger? He was fine when he dropped me here an hour or two ago.”

  “The Ranger’s had to go back to work, to help organize the police patrols. He’s taken Neil and Clara out with him, though, so that they can slip into the hill while no one’s looking.”

  “And you really want me to do this … merging? Won’t it hurt the pigeon?”

  “The pigeon will know nothing about it, Sir James. Just impose your will on it and it’ll fly with us,” instructed Hamish.

  Sir James looked at Jamie helplessly. “What do I have to do?”

  “Put the firestone in your pocket, Sir James,” urged Archie. “Put it somewhere safe, so that you can’t lose it. The power of the stone will allow you to merge with the pigeon.”

  Hamish went up to his pigeon, put both hands firmly on its back and disappeared. “Just think yourself into it,” advised the pigeon, “and you’ll be fine.”

  Feeling a complete fool, Sir James moved behind the pigeon that Archie had materialized from and put his hands on its back. He felt the warmth of its body and the softness of its feathers and all of a sudden he was seeing the world from his perch on the back of the office chair.

  “You did it, Sir James,” said Archie approvingly. “Now come out of it. Draw your mind together and step out of its back.”

  Sir James suddenly appeared before them again and looked around in amazement. “I didn’t feel a thing!” he said in astonishment.

  “Okay!” said Jaikie, “now that you know how, let’s go!”

  “Right, Jamie,” said Hamish. “Take us outside into the yard and we’ll be off.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right, Sir James?” whispered Jamie, negotiating the steps carefully.

  “So far I feel fine but I’m not sure what flying will be like!”

  “Don’t worry,” answered Jaikie, “you’ll take to it like a duck to water.”

  Sir James fluttered anxiously on Jamie’s arm as they reached the yard. With his heart in his mouth, he watched as the other two pigeons flew up into the air but wasn’t at all surprised that his seemed disinclined to fly. Maybe I’m too heavy for it he thought dismally, gazing up at the other two as they fluttered around him.

  Jaikie swooped low. “Make the bird do what you want,” he said. “Come on, Sir James, fly!”

  As Jamie and Archie watched anxiously, Sir James concentrated his mind and, miraculously, it worked. His pigeon soared into the air and all of a sudden he was flying. He felt his wings beating strongly; he was part of the bird. Below him the buildings that fringed the park spread before him and, intrigued at the sight of the Palace gardens, he veered towards them.

  At that moment both Hamish and Jaikie streaked across his path, giving him such a jolt that he almost forgot to flap his wings.

  “Where,” screamed Jaikie, “do you think you’re going?”

  “Follow us!” urged Hamish, flying alongside him. “Keep with us and for heaven’s sake, don’t stray! Remember that we share the same airspace as hawks and buzzards! You really mustn’t go off on your own! Stay alert, Sir James!”

  After his first wild sortie, Sir James settled between Jaikie and Hamish. Flying was a marvellous experience, he decided, admiring the green sweep of the slopes of the park, the glimpse of the lochs and the red mass of Salisbury Crags.

  He was about to speak to Jaikie and Hamish when he realized to his horror that they had disappeared. Flapping around wildly, he remembered what they’d said about hawks. But surely he would have noticed if a hawk had caught them? Suddenly, they appeared out of nowhere on either side of him.

  “You were supposed to be watching us, Sir James,” chided Hamish gently. “We dived for home and you …” he paused, “you flew straight on! Ready now, dive!”

  While Hamish and Jaikie feathered their wings and swooped gently earthwards, Sir James, on a complete high, pulled his wings back euphorically and went into a dive that would have done credit to a hawk.

  “For goodness sake!” muttered Hamish, appalled. “Would you just look at him! If he hits the ground at that speed, he’ll make a hole six feet deep!”

  Jaikie didn’t hear him. Realizing that Sir James’s daredevil antics could result in mashed pigeon, he snapped his wings back and dropped like a stone after him.

  “Feather your wings or you’ll hit the ground,” he shrieked, as Sir James, seemingly hell-bent on his own destruction, continued to hurl downwards at increasing speed. Jaikie’s words hit home, and as the ground started to loom frighteningly large beneath him, Sir James levelled out frantically and, with only a few feet to spare, made a disgraceful landing that involved a few bounces and a couple of cart wheels.

  As he lay panting, wings outspread, on the grass, Hamish and Jaikie landed beside him in a state of complete mental exhaustion! Nerves utterly frazzled, they heaved a sigh of relief as Sir James righted himself and fluffed his ruffled feathers, seemingly unaware of the havoc he had caused. Jaikie and Hamish exchanged a look that spoke volumes.

  “That was wonderful!” said Sir James, hopping happily over the grass towards them. “You know, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Do you think that one day …” he enquired eagerly, “it might be possible to merge with an eagle?”

  Jaikie lifted his eyes to the heavens. That was all he needed! “You’d better talk to Archie about that,” he said, a tinge of sharpness creeping into his voice. “He’s always harping on about being an eagle!”

  “Aye, and let’s face it, Sir James,” adjured Hamish, “you’ve still got a lot to learn about being a pigeon!”

  Jaikie fluttered towards what looked like a rabbit hole. “Now,” he said turning to Sir James, “this is the last part of the journey. You just let yourself drop down this hole and when I say ‘now’ you start flapping your wings like mad, okay?”

  It was not a nice experience. Even though Sir James was cushioned from the sides of the shaft by the other two pigeons, the sensation of dropping into a black void was dreadful.

  “Now,” yelled Jaikie, and Sir James flapped his wings frantically as he remembered his instructions. Much to his relief, it seemed that his journey was really over, as the shaft brought them straight into the middle of the main cavern where the MacArthurs huddled round their chief. Sir James sensed a feeling of deep gloom as he demerged and made his bow to the MacArthur and Lady Ellan.

  “Sir James!!” Neil and Clara rushed forward to grasp his hands. “Sir James, you were a pigeon! How did you do it?”

  “What was it like?” asked Neil enviously. “Did you really fly in the air?”

  “I did,” said Sir James, smoothing his hair and looking at his arms and legs as if to make sure that he was still all there. “It was a wonderful experience, although,” and here he grinned, “I think I gave Jaikie and Hamish a few bad moments! Believe me, there’s more to being a pigeon than meets the eye!”

  Lady Ellan, glancing from Jaikie and Hamish to Sir James, raised her eyebrows and hid a smile as she stepped forward to welcome him.

  “I’m so glad you were able to come,” she said, shaking hands with Sir James. “We’re in serious trouble and we badly need your help.”

  “Jamie mentioned something about treasure and stolen jewels?”

  “I suppose they are jewels, but actually firestones are much more than that. They are magic stones and have powers of their own. We kept ours with the rest of Arthur’s treasure and, I must admit that over the years we tended to forget that they were there. Those stones given to us by the Lords of the North were imbued with very strong magic. A necklace, a belt and a ring, all studded with firestones, were the most powerful. As my father told you earlier, they kept the shield in place around Lord Rothlan�
��s lands. They also protected us here in the hill. Now the stones have been stolen and although we’re still searching the hill, we know that they’ve gone.”

  “You might still find them,” Clara said seriously, looking round at the vastness that surrounded them. “The inside of the hill is huge!”

  Lady Ellan smiled. “We know that they’ve gone because our own power is waning. We feel their loss within us!”

  “Rothlan’s at the bottom of all this!” snarled the MacArthur, sunk in gloom. “You mark my words!”

  “It’s all my fault!” Hamish interrupted, wringing his hands. “When Arthur left the hill, I should have gone to his cave to take the firestones into safe-keeping. Instead, I stayed to watch the police arrive and by the time I reached the cave, the stones had gone. And I found those!” He showed them a soft, dirty bundle of feathers.

  “The bird,” gasped Clara, taking one in her fingers and looking at Hamish in alarm, “Amgarad!”

  “Yes,” sighed the MacArthur. “Amgarad must have stolen the stones and with them in his hands, Jarishan will be open to the world. Rothlan must have been feasting on his anger for years. There will be war and it will be to the hill that he will come first, to take his revenge on me. The irony of it all is that although he doesn’t know it, I was the only one who stood up for him when the Lords of the North were deciding his punishment. It was Prince Kalman that did for him in the end. He was determined to see him cowed and controlled.”

  “What about Dougal MacLeod?” asked Clara suddenly. “He might have gone back and stolen the stones.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t wash, Clara!” interrupted Sir James. “Dougal MacLeod is not one of my favourite people but I’ve known him for years and he’s as honest as the day is long; MacLeod’s no thief.”

  A whooshing noise and a frantic fluttering of wings announced the arrival of a pigeon through the shaft. It could barely speak and tumbled over itself in its anxiety to get to the MacArthur. “Rothlan’s eagles have come, MacArthur!” it stuttered. “They are gathered in the crags with Amgarad.”

  At the same time, a commotion at the back of the hall revealed several stumbling, bleeding figures. “Rothlan’s here! In the tunnels!” gasped one, making his way to the MacArthur. “We came to warn you! He is here …” he gasped, “… with an army. How they entered the hill I don’t know, for we have guards posted everywhere. We’re trying to hold them back, Master, but I fear they are too many for us! Our power is weak and he’s using thunderbolts and strange spells against us.”

  All eyes turned to the MacArthur who seemed totally dumbfounded at the news. Lady Ellan stood up and paced the floor anxiously. “He’s right, Father, our power is nearly gone; we can’t fight Rothlan as we are.” She looked round as if hoping to draw help from the air and gestured hopelessly. “Surely there must be some way that we can beat him! There must be!”

  “We can’t beat Rothlan on our own,” growled the MacArthur. “The Lords of the North gave us the stones and they will have to help us get them back, but we mustn’t let ourselves be taken prisoner; Rothlan will bury us in the darkest reaches of the earth if he has his way!”

  “You’re forgetting, MacArthur,” said Hamish, “that we still have the magic carpets!”

  17. Magic Carpets

  Neil and Clara looked at Hamish, their eyes wide. “Magic carpets!” They looked down in startled surprise at the one they were sitting on. “Do you mean,” breathed Neil, rubbing its smooth surface with his hand, “that all these Persian carpets are magic carpets?”

  Lady Ellan nodded, “Yes, indeed,” she said, “but they’re not actually Persian carpets, Neil. They’re very old Turkish carpets and, after the firestones, our most treasured possessions. If we use them to fly out of the hill, however, we must find somewhere safe to go. And that, I’m afraid, will prove a problem; there are so many of us! Where could we hide until help arrives?”

  It was then that Clara had her bright idea. “There’s always our school,” she said excitedly. “No one’s in it. It’s the summer holidays just now and the school is empty.”

  “A school,” Lady Ellan frowned. “I don’t know. What do you think, Father?”

  “I know their school,” interrupted Hamish, quickly assessing the pros and cons of the situation. “It’s just a short way up the High Street from the Palace. Certainly close enough for us to keep an eye on Lord Rothlan. It would do for a start!”

  “It’s actually a very good idea,” said Sir James, who had also been thinking hard. “The city is full of tourists just now and the Festival will be starting next week. There are very few buildings in Edinburgh that are empty at the moment! The school would be ideal.”

  “Very well,” said Lady Ellan, receiving a grim nod of approval from her father. “Let everyone take a carpet and make ready. Quickly! Sir James, you already have a firestone. Now I will give one to you, Clara, and to you, Neil.”

  She held their hands. “What you must understand is that they are not just jewels. The firestones are magic stones that will allow you to do many things that humans can’t do.”

  “Like merging?” said Neil.

  “Like merging,” she agreed, “but they can be used for other things, too. When you travel on a magic carpet, for instance, the stones will ensure that you and the carpet are invisible to humans when you fly over the city. Can I trust you not to lose them? They are rare and very precious. We only have a few left; those that I am giving you are the tears that Arthur cried yesterday. You must guard them well.”

  “We won’t lose the firestones, honestly!” Clara assured her.

  “Here they are, then,” said Ellan, putting them in their hands and watching as they both stowed them carefully in their jacket pockets. “Now,” she said, “let’s find you a carpet!”

  Clara thought it the most exciting moment of her life when she walked onto the smooth, intricate pattern of the magic carpet and sat down cross-legged. She grinned across at Neil and waved to Sir James, who was looking more than a bit uncomfortable.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Lady Ellan smiled. “The carpets are always very careful of those they carry. You’ll never be tipped off, I promise!”

  Clara looked round in wonder. Hundreds of carpets were moving from the walls of the cavern, some were lifting themselves from the floor but all were making their way towards their owners. The MacArthurs, Clara noticed, greeted their carpets like old friends and clambered onto them happily, many piling them high with odds and ends that they were loath to leave behind. In a few minutes, the great cavern was awash with waves of bobbing, floating carpets that hovered expectantly, waiting for the signal to move. Neil watched as Hamish and Jaikie sailed to the front, followed by the MacArthur and Lady Ellan. Sir James’s carpet then moved forward and Clara grabbed at hers as she too started to move through the air. She twisted round to see what had happened to Neil and, to her relief, saw that he was behind her. Grinning broadly, he gave her the thumbs up sign as the leading carpets approached the entrance to a broad tunnel. The tunnel wasn’t lit and as her carpet followed the others in, she clenched her fists and, sitting hunched in fear, stared around to right and left but everything remained impenetrably black. The air blowing gently on her cheeks told her that she was moving upwards for, as the carpet tilted up at the front, she had to lean forward slightly to keep her balance. “I’m right behind you, Clara,” called Neil. “You’ll be okay, don’t worry! The carpets know the way!”

  The carpets certainly did seem to know the way and as daylight filtered into the tunnel she felt better and her mood changed to one of excitement mixed with anxiety as they sailed into the open air. Clara saw the carpets and people in front of her disappear from view, and gulped as she realized that she couldn’t see herself or her carpet although she could still feel its comforting bulk.

  Beneath her, she could see the slopes of the Park and the traffic on the roads. There still seemed to be lots of policemen on the hill but of Amgarad and his eagles there was no sign. The
flight on the magic carpet was over far too quickly. Clara could quite happily have flown on it for days. Idly she wondered what it would be like if it were to rain and smiled at the thought of sitting on a magic carpet with an umbrella up!

  The school, as Hamish had so rightly pointed out, was very close to the hill and already she could see its roofs beside those of the more modern Scottish Parliament building.

  “Now what?” thought Clara, suddenly panic-stricken. “I can’t see anyone and I don’t know what to do!”

  The carpet, however, seemed to have its own ideas and took her along a line of tall windows at one side of the school that were all firmly shut. It then climbed higher and Clara realized that her carpet must be following those in front, searching for a way into the building. She watched as a window opened from the bottom. Who was opening it, she didn’t know, but it came as no surprise when her carpet headed for the open space. She ducked her head as it floated gently through and came to rest on the floor of what she recognized as Neil’s classroom.

  Even as she stood up, Clara realized that she had become visible once more. She turned to see Neil walking towards her. “You okay, Clara?” he asked. “We should have shared a carpet. I didn’t know we were going to have to go up a tunnel in the dark.”

  “I’m fine now, honestly. I just can’t believe that this is happening.”

  Magic carpets were landing all around them and, as their owners stepped off, the carpets flew to the side of the classroom and rolled themselves neatly against the wall. The room, however, was steadily filling up and it was when she suddenly thought of the janitor, Mr MacGregor, that Clara began to think that maybe her bright idea hadn’t been quite as bright as she had originally thought. Seen in the vast cavern, the MacArthurs hadn’t seemed all that many but they already filled the classroom and more were arriving every minute. The room would soon be filled to overflowing!