Firestar (18 page)

The TV cameras followed every move the giants made as they pulled huge rocks and boulders from the side of Morven. “News is coming in to us from other parts of Scotland that giants are
rising
from mountains all over the Grampians and it looks,” the newscaster said in a shaking voice, “as if the giants here are in a particularly aggressive mood.”

The assault went on and on, the giants’ strange voices rumbling eerily across the glen as they pulled and hauled at the mountainside.

Shona put her head to one side. “Listen,” she said so commandingly that everyone fell silent. “Listen, can’t you hear it? It sounds like a siren.”

“It
is
a siren,” one of the technicians said, in puzzled wonder. “Where on earth is it coming from, though?”

It came from inside the mountain. Chuck nearly jumped out of his skin as the noise blared through the cavern. The machine seemed to have gone berserk. And it wasn’t only the siren; alarm bells were ringing, lights flashing, the lot! Everything seemed at panic stations.
Now
what was wrong, Chuck thought. Had he pressed the wrong key somewhere? The noise the machine was making was something awful. It clanked and clattered alarmingly until he thought it was going to blow up altogether.

On the hillside, the sound of the siren faded
and wasn’t repeated although everyone listened hard. Then the cameraman, looking at the giants through a zoom lens, gave a shout. “Look at the giants! They’re dying!”

The Cri’achan trembled as they felt Malfior’s passing and grunted in dismay as their power left them. With roars of rage, they found
themselves
growing smaller and smaller as the pull of the earth drew them steadily to the ground. Desperately, they fought against its strength,
trying
to regain the previous lightness of movement they had enjoyed before, but to no avail. The onlookers watched in amazement as they shrank and shrank and soon grew too small to see.

“Malfior! Malfior! Where are you?” Cri’achan Mòr roared fearfully. But there was no answer to his cry and as he felt himself start to shrink he called, too, on Lord Jezail, knowing that he would be watching him through his crystal.

“You promised!” he shouted furiously, “you promised me Morven, Lord Jezail!” There was no reply, however, and as he became smaller and smaller, he cursed the day that he’d put his faith in magicians.

Cri’achan Mòr held out to the end but there was nothing he could do. Reduced to a tiny figure, his anger was terrible to see and, as the unrelenting force drew him inexorably downwards, he, too, collapsed in a pitiful tumble of rocks and earth, to sleep forever on the slopes of Morven.

There was a deathly hush as the watchers at the head of the glen realized that the reign of the stone
giants had passed. Clara pressed her hands over her mouth and stared round-eyed, while Neil and Lewis looked at one another in relief. It was over. Morven was safe.

“Can we go home now?” Shona asked in a small voice.

Her father put his arm round her. “Of course,” he said, looking at his wife in relief, “the giants have gone and something tells me that they won’t be coming back.”

In the Halls of the Giants, Lord Jezail’s black eyes held bitter disappointment as he felt all the powerful magic he had secretly stolen from Firestar, drain out of him. Cri’achan Mòr’s fury and Malfior’s last despairing cries were as
nothing
to the painful realization that he, himself, had dwindled in stature. Once more just an ordinary magician, there was nothing he could do; not for Malfior nor the giants. His wonderful plan had failed and such was his anger that he slapped the palm of his hand on the rock table, muttered
furiously
and getting to his feet, strode up and down the boulder-strewn hall, totally beside himself with rage.

Count Vassili moved forward to look in the
crystal
and paused in awe as he witnessed the collapse of Cri’achan Mòr and as the tiny figure of the great giant finally disintegrated in a pathetic scatter of small stones, his lips tightened and his blue eyes shone as cold as ice as he regarded his master. What had been done, was done. It was definitely time to go.

His face, nevertheless, was quite impassive as he
spoke. “Master,” his voice was cold as he passed a hand over the crystal, shutting it down, “it is time for us to leave …”

Lord Jezail turned towards him, his frowning face still a mask of disappointment. “It
could
have worked, Vassili,” he said, angrily. “I was unlucky, that’s all.”

“Master,” Vassily soothed, “there will be other ways to gain the power of the Lords of the North. Don’t worry, you will think of them. But now it’s time we left this place for the comfort of Stara Zargana. Master, the citadel awaits your return …”

“You’re right, as always, Vassili,” the magician remarked, looking round the roughly hewn cavern of the giants, “it’s time to go and,” he added, his expression lightening at the thought, “there are, as you say, always other ways …”

Inside the mountain, Chuck looked again at the monitor where lights continued to blink furiously. Still something to sort out, he thought, and
sitting
down again, tapped away furiously. He didn’t really know how he knew but he had a suspicion that Firestar was guiding him. One by one the lights gradually disappeared from the screen and when the last one flickered and died an icy voice spoke in arctic accents.

“That,” it said coldly, “was a
very
nasty
experience
.”

Chuck whirled round and saw that the
magicians
had reappeared. Both looked totally outraged and the hobgoblins were shaking with fright.

“What happened?” he asked, blankly. “Did I make you disappear or something?”

“More like the
or something
,” Prince Casimir snapped, controlling his temper with an effort.

“I’m really sorry,” Chuck apologized, wondering if he were about to be turned into a toad or
whatever
it was magicians did when they were in a
temper
, “but I’m not used to your … er, computer.”

Lord Rothlan saw his point. His rigid expression relaxed slightly and his lips twitched in a smile as he saw the funny side of the situation. It was quite infuriating, of course and what made it even more irritating was that Chuck would never, ever,
appreciate
the enormity of what he’d done. It wasn’t every day that powerful and important magicians were reduced to the size of grasshoppers. Indeed, he wondered if he’d ever live it down.

“You didn’t make us disappear,” he said, dryly. “At some stage you must have pressed the wrong keys for you made us grow smaller. We tried to attract your attention but you … er, didn’t look down.”

“You nearly stood on me,” whispered Rumbletop, looking at Chuck reproachfully.

“Gee, I’m really sorry,” Chuck said, looking
contrite
. He knelt down and held the hobgoblin’s tiny hands. “I’m not used to magic yet.”

Just how unused to magic he was, became immediately apparent. He almost jumped out of his skin as another magician suddenly appeared out of the blue. To say that Lord Dorian was in a temper, is putting things mildly. He was, in actual fact, totally incandescent with rage.

“What on earth’s going on down here, Casimir?” he snapped at the prince. “Have you all gone mad? Somebody,” he looked round accusingly, “just hexed us and Lord Alarid, let me tell you, is
absolutely
livid!”

“Whoops!” Chuck thought.

“He’s not,” Dorian said savagely, “used to being half an inch high! And what’s more,” he glared at them angrily, “neither am I!!”

Lord Rothlan put an arm round Chuck who had taken a few steps backwards and was staring apprehensively at this new magician.

“Meet Chuck, Lord Dorian,” he said, “and say thank you.” He gestured round the suddenly silent hall and for the first time they realized that the sound of the giants’ attack had ceased entirely. “I don’t know how he did it but I think he’s just sorted out the Cri’achan for us!”

“Hughie’s all right,” Ian Ferguson said, coming back into the kitchen. “He wasn’t worried about the giants. Said that the mountain would look after its own.”

His wife shook her head at this remark. “Typical Hughie,” she said with some asperity. “And there we were, worrying our heads off about him!”

“I thought he was cutting it a bit fine, myself,” Ian agreed as he pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “He says he’ll bring Clarissa round tomorrow so that you can take the kids back to Aberdeen.” He smiled at Lewis. “We’ll phone your house this evening, Lewis, just to check arrangements with your mum and dad. Now, is there any tea left in that pot? I could do with a cuppa.”

The telephone rang and Mrs Ferguson went to answer it. “That was Jennifer’s dad,” she said when she came back. “He drove back to check on their house and he says it’s fine. No damage to speak of apart from giant footprints all over the hillside. And Jenni says to say goodbye to you two,” she smiled at Neil and Clara, “and says she’ll see you at school on Monday, Lewis.”

“School,” Neil groaned. “I’d forgotten all about it!”

“I’m not surprised,” Mrs Ferguson laughed. “You’ve had quite an exciting holiday what with the giants and all.”

The children smiled politely and eyed one
another across the room. It was just as well, Shona reckoned, that she didn’t know just
how
exciting.

“How about taking a walk before dinner so you can say goodbye to the mountain,” Mrs Ferguson suggested.

“Great idea,” approved Lewis, “and we can see what’s left of the giants as well.”

A quarter of an hour later, they left the house and, crossing the burn, headed for the mountain. The scattered remains of the giants littered the slopes in a mess of smallish stones.

“The landslides are nothing like as big as I thought they’d be,” Neil remarked, casting an eye over the slopes. “When you think of the number of giants there were, you’d think the whole mountain would be covered in debris!”

“They grew smaller, remember,” Shona said. “Maybe that’s why.”

Suddenly, Clara grasped at her firestone. “My firestone feeeeeeels heavy,” she said looking at Neil in startled surprise. The words were hardly out of her mouth when she found herself inside the mountain, standing in front of the Lords of the North with Neil, Lewis and Shona, beside her.

“Bow,” whispered Lewis.

Lord Alarid beckoned them forward. “Welcome to Morven,” he smiled. “We thought we’d celebrate our victory over the Cri’achan by inviting you to dinner.”

Everyone was there. Arthur breathed a long sparkling burst of fire as he saw Neil and Clara and Archie grinned and waved.

It was Chuck, however, who caused the sensation.
Lewis saw him first and grabbed Neil’s arm. “Chuck!” he gasped. “Look, he’s over there beside Lord Rothlan!”

Clara and Shona looked at the two boys in amazement. “Who’s Chuck?” they both asked together as Lord Rothlan, catching Lewis’s eye, brought him over.

Neil and Lewis had the grace to look slightly ashamed for on their return from the castle, they’d decided not to tell the girls of their visit. Although Shona’s anger at not being allowed onto Morven had drifted from her mind in the excitement of the past few days, it was still, Lewis had felt,
simmering
beneath the surface. Had Chuck agreed to let her onto the mountain it would have been fine but as he hadn’t … well, neither of them had wanted to stir up old grudges.

“He’s one of the Americans from the castle,” Neil muttered hastily. “I’ll tell you about him later.”

“Chuck has been absolutely wonderful,” Lady Ellan said, joining them. “He saved us from the giants!”

“
And
managed to zap the virus out of Firestar,” her husband added.

Chuck gave Lewis and Neil a very odd look. The last thing he had expected was to see them mingling with magicians inside Morven and he said so.

“It’s a long story,” Lewis admitted with a grin, “and quite unbelievable, really.”

“Try me,” Chuck answered. “I’m getting used to the unbelievable!”

Shona, meanwhile, gave a gasp of delight as she saw that Hughie had been invited as well. Indeed, he seemed to have been in the hill for some time as he was deep in conversation with Prince Casimir and the MacArthur. She was just about to rush over to talk to him when Neil grabbed her arm. “Not yet, Shona,” he warned. “Look at their faces. I think Hughie’s telling them about Prince Kalman. If I were you, I’d wait till he comes over.”

It was then that Amgarad landed, in a flap of wings, on Clara’s shoulder. Lady Ellan smiled as the huge bird bent its head and pulled gently at Clara’s hair. After Lord Rothlan, Clara was
definitely
his next favourite person.

“We’re so pleased to see you all,” she said. “We’ve had quite an exciting day what with one thing and another! Did you see the giants?”

“We were watching from that cliff at the head of the glen,” Shona confessed. “It was terrifying. At one stage we really thought that the giants were going to get into the mountain.”

“So did we,” Lady Ellan confessed and then broke off as Lord Alarid stepped forward and raised his arms. He murmured some magic words and before them appeared a long table covered in a pure, white cloth. Candles glowed, crystal
sparkled
, silver shone and a myriad of gleaming dishes appeared, laden with delicious food.

The Rumblegrumbles served the meal,
resplendent
in fine new clothes. Their waistcoats and
trousers
were of shiny silver cloth and they were so happy that Firestar had been sorted out that Clara
wanted to laugh whenever she looked at them for they all wore their ridiculous goblin grins.

After they had eaten, Prince Casimir told them how Chuck had managed to get rid of the virus that it had picked up from Powerprobe. “It was responsible for the rise of the giants and,
fortunately
for us, he managed to neutralize it.”

There was an outburst of clapping at this. Chuck stood up and bowed, as it was a real tribute of gratitude for all that he’d done. Prince Casimir caught Lord Rothlan’s eye with a troubled smile. Malfior had gone and the world of magic had been saved but Chuck’s news of Lord Jezail had been devastating.

By the time they had finished chatting and
speculating
, it was getting late but Lord Alarid’s magic spell saved them the long walk back as it landed them just outside Glenmorven House.

“Well, did you say goodbye to Morven?” Helen Ferguson asked as they came into the living room.

“Yes, we did,” nodded Clara.

“And we saw what was left of the giants,” added Shona.

“And what was that?” her father queried,
looking
up from his newspaper. “Loads of rocks and stones?”

“No, not as much as I thought,” she said. “I was expecting massive landslides, but there were just drifts of small stones.”

“It was rather sad, really,” Shona added. “The giants must have been very small when they died.”

“Well, go and wash your hands, now that you’re back. Your mother’s made you a Chinese stir-fry for dinner.”

“How lovely,” Shona glanced at the others and, with an effort, managed to look enthusiastic. “My favourite food,” Neil said bravely, eyeing Clara and wondering how on earth he was going to manage to eat another meal.