The Puzzle Ring (45 page)

Hannah looked into the mirror. It was almost dark. The sun was slipping away below the horizon and bats were flitting through the trees.

‘Irata, I call thee,' she said. ‘Irata, Irata, Irata . . .' Nine times she called the dark queen's name. To her surprise and horror she saw the proud, pale face rushing closer and closer towards her in the mirror, as if it was a window and the queen was running towards her down a long dark hall. Hannah's voice shook. She could barely manage to finish the incantation.

‘You fool!' Irata's voice dripped with scorn. ‘Do you know what you've done?'

‘I've called you out of your world into mine,' Hannah said, her voice weak as a little girl's.

‘I thank you!' Irata replied. ‘I was searching for a way through. Now you'll be sorry you ever sought to cross wills with me!' She raised her hand, so that the wand filled the mirror with eerie green light. It spilt out of the glass, making the candle flames look wan and turning everyone's faces into demonic masks.

Quickly Morgana snatched up the black cloth and flung it over the mirror. They heard a sudden gasp of surprise from Irata. Morgana took up a coil of black cord and began to wind it round and round the mirror, chanting, ‘By the power of star and stone and tree and running water, I bind thee, I bind thee, I bind thee! By the power of blood and bone and eye and hand, I bind thee, I bind thee, I bind thee!'

‘No, no, no!' Irata screamed. The mirror rocked wildly. Morgana held it steady, winding the cord about it three more times, chanting, ‘By the power of love and loyalty, faith and friendship, I bind thee, I bind thee, I bind thee! Nine times I bind thee, three times three, that you may never again be free, and so I say and so I will, so mote it be.'

She stopped, her breath coming fast. The black-bound mirror was still and quiet. ‘So. It's done.'

They stared at the black bundle for a long while, but nothing happened.

‘What do we do now?' Hannah said very quietly.

‘Throw it in the deepest part of the loch?' Morgana suggested. ‘We don't want it to ever be found again.'

‘The mirror might break,' Donovan said.

‘We'll wrap it up well,' Morgana said.

So the four friends helped Morgana wrap up the black-bound mirror in a thick, dark blanket which Hannah fetched from the house, and tied it up with rope that Max fetched from the shed, and then they rowed out onto the dark, still loch. Somewhere an owl hooted. The moon was rising and turning the world to silver and black. They went far from shore, in a deep gulf between the islands, and there they heaved the mirror over the side of the boat. It sank in seconds, leaving only a ripple to disturb the silvered water.

‘So will you go and take her place in the fairy realm?' Hannah asked.

‘I will, the very next time the gate opens,' Morgana replied. ‘The next thin day is the spring equinox, in seven weeks' time. That will give me time to prepare. I can't just leave the shop as it is, it wouldn't be right. Donovan, I thought I would leave it all to you. The shop, my flat, my savings. You're my only kin.'

Donovan was wide-eyed and silent with amazement.

‘It's not much,' Morgana said, ‘but it's something. It should mean you're never wanting for anything. If you look after it and don't waste it.'

‘Mum and Dad will help,' Hannah said, feeling a little secret thrill at being able to say those words.
Mum and Dad . . .

‘Max, Scarlett, I thought you could choose something from
the shop, whatever you like. And Hannah, I thought you would like my books. And perhaps my wand and my dagger.'

‘I'd love them!' Hannah said.

‘Let's go home now,' Morgana said. ‘It's late and your parents will be worrying.'

They rowed back to shore and tied the little boat up at the rickety wharf. Wintersloe Castle was warm and welcoming with lights that streamed across the frosty grass. The forest and the hill and the road that ran down to the town looked cold and dark and lonely.

‘Do you want to come back for dinner?' Hannah asked Donovan in a low voice.

He shook his head. ‘I think I'd better go talk to my dad, don't you? Tell him that I know.'

‘That'll be hard.'

He grinned. ‘No. It'll be good. He should've explained to me a long time ago. We could go looking for stags in the morning if you want? I'll come chuck some stones at your window, bright and early.'

‘Okay. See you then. Bye, Max! Bye, Scarlett! See you tomorrow. Bye!'

Blowing on her frozen hands, Hannah went up the slope towards the house, which lifted its mismatching turrets against the starry sky. A delicious smell of roast grouse and bramble crumble filled the air. Hannah looked back once at the loch, now hiding another secret in its murky depths, then smiled and ran up the stairs to the house where her family was waiting for her.

Almost seven weeks later, as the sun was rising on the morning of the spring equinox, the green hill opened its secret door and let in a grey-haired, middle-aged woman and an old hunchbacked woman with cloudy green eyes.

Morgana carried a box of books and treasures she could not live without. Linnet carried one large, warty toad and a small, grey cat, which wriggled desperately, trying to get away.

‘Don't cry, my lamb,' Linnet said to Hannah. ‘Och, but it's glad I am to be going home at last. I don't think I could survive another Scottish winter.'

‘Oh, but Linnet, I don't want you to go!' Hannah sobbed.

‘Wheesht! You'll come to visit us, by and by, you and the laddie. You know where the door is.'

‘But I haven't got the hag-stone any more!' Hannah wiped her eyes and blew her nose, and cast a longing look at Morgana, who wore the hag-stone on a cord about her neck.

‘You don't need the hag-stone. You've got the wild magic,
in here and in here.' Linnet tapped Hannah on the head, between the brows, and then again above her heart. Tears sprang to Hannah's eyes again, and she threw her arms about Linnet and hugged her close.

‘Och, you'll be breaking my bones if you keep on so! Now, I need you to be looking after your great-grandmother. She's had me all her life and she'll miss me sorely. Will you do that? I've left you my recipe book. She does love my marmalade cake. Could you be cooking it for her sometimes?'

‘I'll try,' Hannah said, glancing back down the path to the clearing beside the yew tree, where the rest of the family waited by the witch's pool. Linnet had prepared them all one last feast before leaving them, and it was spread out on a picnic blanket. Roz and Robert leant against each other, feeding each other strawberries, while Genie and Allan were busy cutting the marmalade cake and pouring glasses of home-made lemonade. Lady Wintersloe stood, leaning on the rowan walking-stick, waving her handkerchief. A few weeks in hospital, and healing water made with the help of the hag-stone, had seen her broken leg mend, but she was still not nimble enough to climb the steep path to the fairy hill. She was very sad to see Linnet leave, but glad that the old fairy had at last been released from her centuries of service.

Hannah's friends were there too. Scarlett was demonstrating how she had fought off the witch-hunters in Fortingall, and had just thrown Max over her shoulder and flat onto his back. Breathless, his black hair sticking up, his glasses on crooked, Max was protesting loudly, while the adults all laughed.

‘And you might want to get her another cat. She loved this bogey-beast, Lord knows why!' Linnet waggled the grey
cat who hissed and spat at the toad. Angus just blinked his imperturbable black eyes.

‘I'll find her a lovely little kitten,' Donovan promised. ‘A white one with green eyes to remind her of you.'

‘Are you sure you'll be able to turn Angus back?' Hannah asked. ‘I do hate to think of him being a toad for so many years!'

‘Sure I will,' Linnet answered. ‘Lucky he was a toad, and was there that night to see your father throw the hag-stone into the pool. Else it might have been lost forever!'

‘Strange how things work out,' Hannah said.

‘I will miss you two,' Linnet sighed. ‘Take care, won't you? Don't go falling off any mountains, Donovan! And look after Hannah for me, won't you?'

‘I will,' he promised.

‘I don't need looking after,' Hannah flared. ‘I'm quite capable of looking after myself.'

‘Oh, you are, I know it, my lamb,' Linnet said, and gave them each a last kiss before following Morgana into the dark cleft of the hill. Morgana had cut a way through the blackthorn with her witch's knife, which Hannah now held in its embossed white leather sheath, along with the twisted wand of shining black wood.

‘Hannah! Donovan!' Roz called. ‘Come and eat.'

‘One minute!' Hannah called back. She and Donovan pressed their ears to the rock.

‘Can you hear anything?' she asked.

‘Sssh!' Donovan said.

They listened intently and heard, far away, a high, wild, ethereal song, weaving through the caves and chambers of the knowe. ‘It's there! Can you hear it? It's the throne, singing for
the child of true blood,' Donovan cried. ‘Oh, isn't it beautiful!'

Hannah nodded, unable to speak.

‘They've made it. They're home.' Donovan dashed his arm across his eyes.

‘Come on,' Hannah said after a moment. ‘I want to get a photo of us, all smiling and happy, for the great hall. The first happy snap of the Rose family in more than four hundred and forty years. We don't want to have red eyes and miserable faces! I'll get Scarlett to take it. Max can't keep still long enough to take a decent photo.'

They walked back towards the sound of voices and laughter under the ancient spreading branches of the yew tree.

‘Look, it's snowing!' Donovan said. ‘Yet it's such a beautiful sunny day. How can it be snowing?'

Hannah and Donovan stood still, holding up their hands to the shower of sweet-scented white blowing over their faces. ‘It's petals,' Hannah said. ‘White petals.'

Instinctively they both looked back at the green knowe. The blackthorn tree upon its crown had burst into blossom. Like tiny white stars, the flowers bloomed all over the black twisted twigs, turning the tree into a shining beacon upon the hill. Hannah and Donovan smiled at each other.

‘Come on!' Hannah cried. ‘Let's go tell Belle. Now we know the curse truly is broken. Everything will be all right now.'

The cousins grabbed hands and ran down the pathway. A gust of wind sent a spindrift of blackthorn blossom spiralling up around their running bodies and flying hair, before falling down to float upon the dark surface of the witch's pool.

People have toyed with this idea for a very long time, but most would have thought it was absolutely impossible before the brilliant scientist Albert Einstein came up with a couple of radical theories about the nature of time and space in 1905, when he was only twenty-six. He completely changed our understanding of the universe.

One of the side-effects of his research was to show us that, theoretically, time travel is indeed possible. Many scientists have wondered about it since, arguing with each other about how it could be achieved and what the consequences could be. It's a fascinating—and mind-boggling—subject, and one that will keep scientists wondering and worrying for many more years, let alone non-scientists like you and me.

Just remember, the laws of physics tell us what is possible, not what is practical. I can't see a time travel machine or a
working wormhole being invented any time soon. However, who knows what will happen tomorrow? History is filled with underestimations of what is possible in the future. In 1899, Charles H. Duell, the commissioner of the US Office of Patents, said, ‘Everything that can be invented has been invented.' Marshal Ferdinand Foch, French commander of Allied forces during the last few months of World War I, said in 1918, ‘Airplanes are interesting toys but of no military value.' And in 1943, Thomas Watson, the chairman of IBM, said, ‘I think there is a world market for maybe five computers.'