Maze Running and other Magical Missions (13 page)

One faun grabbed Helen’s shoulders and pulled her away from Lee, and two uruisks leapt at the faery.

Lee flicked his sword out and up at the face of the nearest uruisk, who brought a mace straight down towards Lee’s sword arm, but the faery spun out of the way and knocked the mace out of the goat’s claws with one slash.

The faery moved to the middle of the plateau, sword out in front, feet moving, circling round. “No one lays a hand on me!”

“Calm down, faery boy,” chuckled the Master. “I don’t need to lay a hand on you. Put down the sword, or I will have my goats use their swords, not on you, but on your friends. If this token is all you say it is, you have nothing to fear.”

Lee glanced at Helen, and she thought she saw him wink, then he laid his sword on the ground.

They all watched as the elderly faun put his hand in the satchel and pulled something out.

He held it up. A mouse. A small brown mouse, dangling limply from his fingers by its tail.

“Here’s one I injured earlier. A field mouse. Unconscious, with a broken leg. It’s probably almost suffocated in my bag too, poor wee thing,” he said cheerfully. “Let’s see if this water heals the mouse.”

He pulled the cork out with his teeth, tipped the vial up and let one drop fall onto the mouse’s fur. 

Nothing happened.

The mouse still swung, nose down, from his hand.

The faun looked at the Master. “This water has no power at all, except the power to fool the unwary. These children have tried to trick you.”

At a growled signal from the Master, the faun gripping Helen flung his arm round her throat, so her chin was forced up and she could hardly breathe.

She strained to look round. Lavender was caught in a faun’s hand. Catesby was clutched to an uruisk’s chest. Rona and Tangaroa were held by two fauns each, swords at their throats. An uruisk was pointing a sword at Sapphire’s eye. Sylvie was struggling against the rope.

The Master said, very softly, “Everyone stay still.”

Helen twisted round to look at the minotaur. He was standing to her right, his double-bladed axe held high above her head.

“Everyone stay still and no one will get hurt.”

Where was Lee? Helen moved her head slowly. The faery was in the middle of the plateau, both arms held firmly by uruisks. He looked furious, but he was standing very still.

The Master whispered, “You thought you could fool me, Helen Strang. You thought you could give me puddle-water. But I’m not stupid. I’m not naïve and trusting like you. I was prepared for tricks.

“Now I have you under my blade. You will be the 
first human I control, but not the last. When I have the power to see all weakness, I will use it first to defeat the fabled beasts, but then I will turn my new eye to your people. The modern human world seems so strong, but it must have weaknesses. I will find those weaknesses and use them to rip your world apart, girl.

“So I need that token. I know you have it; my fauns watched you get it. So give me it now, or I will let this fall…” He let the axe drop a centimetre.

Helen stared up at the shining metal arc. “No. I will not give it to you. Not if you plan to rip the world apart with it.”

She wished she still had the vial, so she could pour it out, or drink it, or stomp it into the ground.

But Lee had the vial. And he wouldn’t give it to the Master either.

So she said again, “I won’t give you anything, you selfish, greedy…” The faun behind her shifted his arm up and put his hand over her mouth.

The minotaur laughed. “Silly little girl. If you refuse and I swing this axe, then once you’re dead, I’ll search your pockets and I’ll find the token. That would be a pointless way to die, wouldn’t it? So give me the token!”

“She doesn’t have it,” said a calm voice.

Helen looked round.

Lee repeated, “She doesn’t have it. I do. There’s no need to threaten her, because it is not her decision. It’s mine.”

“Then give it to me,” growled the Master.

“Why would I do that?” 

“Why would you indeed? I’m not inclined to trust the word of a faery. I’m surprised these fabled beasts do. But you can trust my word. If you give me the token and it proves to be true magic, then I will let all of you go, unharmed. All of you, including this human child whose music you value so much.” The Minotaur grinned. “I know the weakness of your kind already.” He let the axe slip closer to Helen’s scalp.

“Don’t damage her!” Lee yelled.

Helen was panicking. If Lee gave the Master the token, not only would Yann die, but she would lose another friend to the old jaws of the Great Dragon.

Helen tried to pull away from the faun behind her, but he was holding her too tightly. So she bit his sweaty fingers and he let go long enough for her to scream, “
No!
Lee! This isn’t just about…” then the faun gagged her again.

Lee looked at her. “I know it’s not just about Yann. It’s about other lives too.”

She nodded frantically, hoping he would see the desperation in her eyes, hoping he would see how important it was not to give the vial to the Master.

But Lee just stared at her, his face cold and still. “Don’t struggle, Helen. Don’t fight it. I can’t let this monster kill what I’m planning to steal, can I?” He turned to the minotaur. “Get these animals off me.”

The Master nodded and the uruisks let the faery go. Lee smoothed his shirt and tidied his hair. Then he put his hand inside his cloak and, with a flourish, pulled out the vial.

Helen felt tears at the back of her eyes. Yann’s heart 
would fail. Rona or Lavender or Sylvie or Catesby or Tangaroa would be eaten. Then the Master would take over the world. All because that stupid faery liked the way she played the fiddle.

She watched as the faery and the minotaur walked towards each other.

She watched as the faery’s pale hand dropped the vial into the Master’s hairy hand.

She watched as the old faun limped forward and took the vial.

She watched as he let a glistening drop fall onto the mouse’s fur.

And she watched as the mouse wriggled, fell to the grass and scurried away.

She couldn’t even feel happy for the mouse.

She could barely stay on her feet. When the faun let go, she fell to her hands and knees.

She heard the Master say, “Thank you, dear children, for fetching this healing token for me. Now go home and watch your friend die. I will summon you next time I need you. And you will do my bidding again or I will kill another of you.”

Helen crouched on the damp grass, as hooves and feet thundered away, wondering who would be left alive for the Master to threaten once the Great Dragon had finished with them.

Then she realised she had to untie her friends, but when she sat up she saw the ropes slithering off the selkie, the blue loon, the wolf and the dragon. The ropes had become snakes, which were sliding swiftly into the long grass. 

Helen hoped the mouse had kept running, then said, “Is that how they trapped you all so fast and quietly?”

Tangaroa nodded and said hoarsely, “So much for your defensive tactics, soldier!”

“No,” Lee said. “Not here, not now.” He pointed to a sharp cut end of brown rope, still visible at the edge of the plateau. “I’m not sure if those are snakes turned into ropes, or ropes turned into snakes, but I don’t want them listening to us and telling tales to their Master. The footprint is empty, there’s no reason to stay. We have to get off this hill.”

“Yes.” Helen stood up. “We have to chase them, get the token back.”

“Don’t talk here,” Lee said again. “Get on the dragon.”

He picked up his sword.

“He’s right,” said Rona. “He’s a useless tricky unreliable faery, but he’s right. We can’t stay here. Sylvie’s bleeding and we have to get away from the Master’s spies.”

They climbed onto Sapphire in shocked silence and flew away from Dunadd.

Sapphire landed five minutes later on a higher hilltop. Helen slid off, grabbing Sapphire’s leathery wing to help her down, because her legs were still wobbly.

Once they were all on the ground, Lee backed away a few steps, followed by the others in an angry 
group: Tangaroa throwing his spear from one hand to the other; Sylvie snarling, blood staining her fur and teeth.

Lee straightened his bright green cloak and flicked his sword-point from side to side. “I just saved your lives. Why do you look so annoyed?” He grinned.

Lavender spoke for all of them. “Because you’ve killed Yann! And you’ve given the Master the power to take over the world.”

Helen said soothingly, “Lee has some explaining to do and so do I, but let’s not fight. Please. Sylvie is bleeding.”

“I’m not fighting,” said Tangaroa, banging the butt of his spear on the ground. “Not yet. I’m just asking questions. Before we ask why you caved in to the Master so fast, you need to explain your tactics, faery. You lined us up for him to attack.”

As Helen knelt by Sylvie to find the source of the blood, Tangaroa’s soft Hebridean voice rose. “Didn’t you even consider there might be a trap?”

“Of course I did,” Lee said calmly. “I knew there would be a trap. My job was to arrange you far enough apart that he could take you all out easily, with as few injuries as possible.”

“You
knew
there would be a trap? You
expected
it?”

“Yes. The Master knew where we were going, so of course he was waiting for us. We had to give him the dummy vial at some point. I thought it was wiser to give him it at Dunadd than have him chase us back to Cauldhame Moor.”

“You set us up?” Rona said quietly. 

Lee smiled. “I was surprised you all agreed so readily, but yes, I set you up. I assumed that he would immobilise you all, block our way back to the dragon and demand the token in exchange for your lives. And it worked. Exactly as I intended.”

“No, it didn’t,” said Helen, “not if you were aiming for as few injuries as possible. Look at Sylvie.”

Sylvie growled, blood flecks spitting out of her mouth.

“Sorry about that, dear wolf, but I suspect you resisted when it was already too late, didn’t you?”

“She bit the rope and it bit her back,” explained Rona.

As Catesby began to squawk angrily at Lee, Helen examined the wolf’s muzzle. Her lips and nose weren’t cut. Where was the blood coming from?

Lee was saying, “Yes, of course I heard you on the hill, my feathered friend. I knew it was a warning, but I had to let Helen fill the vial, so…”

Catesby screamed at the faery, but Helen interrupted, “When Catesby called out at Dunadd, was that a warning? You said it was fine. You lied to me!”

Lee nodded. “Yes. Because we needed to collect the token first.”

Helen shook her head in exasperation, then turned back to the wolf. “Did the rope turn into a snake when you bit it?”

Sylvie nodded.

“Did it bite you
inside
your mouth?”

Sylvie nodded again.

“Open up, then.” Helen wasn’t keen to put her fingers in the wolf’s mouth, past the long teeth and the 
saliva, but she could see blood welling from Sylvie’s tongue. “You have puncture wounds in your tongue. Was the snake poisonous?”

As Catesby screeched at Lee, Helen looked up at Lavender. “Were the snakes poisonous, do you think?”

Lavender shook her head. “I don’t think so. One of them bit a faun when he put his sword too close to the rope round Rona’s throat, and the faun just laughed. She’ll be fine if you can stop the bleeding.”

Helen opened her rucksack to get wipes and swabs, and explained quietly to Sylvie that she didn’t need to sew the wounds in her tongue, just slow the bleeding. As she cleaned Sylvie’s fur and checked for any other wounds, she could hear Sapphire snarling at Lee and Catesby squawking at him. It was frustrating that she couldn’t follow what was going on. She tried to hear the extra note in the octave she’d heard in the Great Dragon’s roars, but she couldn’t concentrate, not with the blood on her fingers, the anger in the air.

She glanced up. Lee was standing, his back to a rock, his sword at waist-height, not aiming at anyone, just creating a space in front of him. Everyone was yelling at him.

Helen said, “Could you all stop shouting! I need to calm Sylvie down. My mum once treated an Alsatian with an injured tongue, and she slowed the blood flow to the wound by calming and cooling the patient. So if we could all stop yelling and if someone could fetch me cold water…”

“You need water?” Lee said. “What about this?” 

He opened his left hand. He was holding a small glass vial.

A vial, half-filled with water.

Everyone was silent, staring at the faery.

Then Helen said slowly, “But you gave the vial to the Master.”

“I gave him the vial
you
filled. This is the vial
I
filled, under the cover of my cloak, when you had your back to me. This is also filled with healing water. This will also save Yann’s life. Or cool the wolf’s sharp tongue!” Sylvie growled, but Helen noticed the blood flow was lessening already.

“So you brought another vial with you from Cauldhame?” asked Helen.

“Yes. I got three from Mallow’s kitchen rather than two.”

“You set us up for an ambush, because you expected the Master to be there before us. And you took an extra vial, because you expected him to bring a magic tester?”

“I hoped he wouldn’t. But I did prepare for all eventualities. I brought a spare, so that even if the Master got one vial, we could still save Yann.” Lee grinned. “Sometimes a tricky unreliable faery, trained in glamour and deception, can be quite useful. So, can we all stop shouting now and go back to the Borders to save Yann?”

Helen sat with her back against Sylvie, feeling the wolf’s warmth on her spine. “But Lee, now the Master will have the power to see everyone’s weaknesses.”

“I know. It’s not ideal. But we’ll have Yann. What 
would you rather have: a dead centaur and a scarred minotaur; or a living, breathing, kicking Yann and a powerful Master?”

“It’s not that simple. There’s another cost to the Master having the token…”

Helen was going to have to tell them.

“Sorry everyone. I’m about to make this situation worse. Because the Great Dragon made a deal with me. She promised to call her dragons off, but only if I promised we would
not
give the token to the Master, under
any
circumstances. And there’s a penalty: if the Master gets this powerful vision, then the Great Dragon will … em …”

“What?” Lavender prompted her.

“The Great Dragon will eat one of us for breakfast. Tomorrow.”

There was silence. A deep cold silence.

Helen felt Sylvie turn into a girl behind her. Helen looked round warily.

Sylvie wiped blood from her lips. “Eat one of us. Which one?”

“Em … she’ll choose when the time comes.”

“And who is on the menu, human girl?” Sylvie was lisping, but her words were clear and angry.

Sylvie pushed Helen away and stood up. “Not her pupil Sapphire, I suppose, but am I on the menu? What about Rona? Or Catesby? Who else is insignificant enough?”

Helen whispered, “She mentioned you, Catesby, Tangaroa, Rona and Lavender. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but if I’d refused, Crag and Jewel would have been 
breathing fire on us and evaporating the water before we filled even one vial. And I would offer myself, but … she didn’t want…”

“Yes,” snarled Sylvie, “Lee pulled rank, and extended his faery protection over you. We all heard him. He’s given you a charmed life, human girl, but you have sold our lives for Yann’s.”

“I didn’t think it would happen,” Helen protested weakly, “because we all agreed we wouldn’t give the token to the Master.”