Amethyst (21 page)

She was over confident. She made one hurried move and the pick didn’t connect; it slipped, gouging a long deep channel in the ice. She was pulled up tight with a terrible wrench. All her weight hung on the chisel.

‘Ow! Help!’

She swung, legs scrabbling for a hold, her right arm jabbing the pick at the ice. At last she got a hold. Her feet found substance to stand on; she stopped falling. A hot tear ran down her cheek. ‘Oh, Rat, Rat,’ she muttered. ‘This is the worst bit of my entire life.’

She took a deep breath. From now on, every move, until she reached the window, was going to be slow and careful. She inched in crab-like manoeuvres across the ice until at last she reached the rat. He was sitting on a wide windowsill, licking his paws. Amy guessed they were cold and sore.

‘Done it.’ Amy slithered onto the sill beside him. She tightened her fingers around the window frame. It felt good and solid.

Through the window she spied an empty room. Good. But even if it had been full of rockgoyles, Granite and Shane, she still would have gone in. She had no choice.

Amy pushed hard against the window frame and it burst open. She tumbled onto the floor. ‘Phew!’ She sat on the solid ground, relishing the feel of it. Her hands were trembling, her legs were shivering from the effort. She was panting and hot. Her borrowed trousers had ripped at both knees, her shirt was wet and torn.

The rat jumped down beside her.

‘Did it,’ said Amy. She stroked his head. ‘Thanks Rat.’

The rat smiled his rattish smile and scampered up her arm. He snuggled under her chin. He nudged her with his cold nose.

‘Thank you,’ Amy said again. Her legs were still shaky. Her fingers felt cramped and stiff. She put away her tools in the apron and stood up. ‘Now, I suppose I’d better get a move on.’

Outside the room, she made a discovery: she was on the same landing as her bedroom. She could get fresh clothes.

She ran to her bedroom and pushed open the door. Then her heart stopped with a jolt.

She, Amy, was already there! She was standing at the end of her bed. She was wearing the blue, hooded cloak that Granite had given her.

It wasn’t possible!

The eye-cycle! It’s what I saw in Squitcher’s eye-cycle, she thought. My fortune. But how can I be there?

Very slowly, the figure turned round. It wasn’t Amy. It was an ugly, grey-skinned rockgoyle with a hairy chin and pointed ears. The rockgoyle grinned sheepishly at Amy.

‘Thought you’d gone,’ she muttered. ‘They said you weren’t coming back.’ She shrugged off the cloak. ‘Just trying it on.’

‘Have it, have it,’ said Amy. She rushed at her and thrust the cloak back over the rockgoyle’s shoulders. ‘It suits you. Honestly. It looks so much better on you. Please take it.’

‘Sure? Don’t need to tell me more than once. Thanks!’ The rockgoyle pulled it round her and ran out of the room.

Amy twirled round in delight. She made the rat so dizzy, he crawled out and jumped onto the bed, shaking his head.

‘It wasn’t me in the eye-cycle!’ she cried. ‘Not me! Not my face!’

She dashed into the bathroom and stared at her reflection. It was exactly as it should be. Her nose was the same, her big blue eyes were the same. Her chin, cheeks and brows all normal. ‘I’m not turning into a rockgoyle! I’m not! I’m not!’

‘Eeek,’ said the rat.

‘Yes, eeek! Isn’t it great? I feel so much better. I’m not spoiling, Rat. I’m not ugly and I can make things good.’

Amy ripped off Copper’s clothes and put on her own. She chose boring old things she’d brought with her from
the South. She held Copper’s shirt against her nose for a second before casting it off. It smelled of wood shavings, sawdust and something cosy and pleasant that she couldn’t identify.

‘First I thought that was so disgusting,’ she told the rat. ‘Now I sort of wish I smelled like that, but I don’t. That’s sweet little Copper and I’m hard little Amy. But I can be kind, reliable Amy too.’

‘Eek, eek,’ said the rat.

Amy took the gold square from inside her boot. It was exquisite. She could dribble it through her fingers like liquid, but it was as strong as Shane’s cobweb thread. She put it into her left pocket. In her right were the cobweb squares.

‘Double magic,’ she told the rat. ‘For spoiling everything for Granite and Shane Annigan if I can.’ The white rat wiggled his whiskers at her and squeaked in agreement. ‘Absolutely,’ Amy said. ‘This isn’t over yet! To the Crystal Crown!’

Amy ran up the narrow spiral staircase to the Crystal Crown. The trap door was open and she crept through warily. The startling brilliance of the sun stopped her momentarily. She halted, blinking.

Questrid and Wolfgang twirled sadly from the ceiling, like old Christmas decorations or dried old hams. Shane Annigan and Granite were there too. They had their backs to her and had not seen her. Still, she knew there was no chance of her getting the prisoners down.

Had Copper escaped?

There was something high up above them in the sky. Granite and Shane were watching it. It suddenly came swooping over the Crystal Crown, a flash of pink and purple and silver.

Boldly Seer! It was the dragon.

She skimmed past, then came back and hovered like a
glimmering silvery bird. The fine pink skin was stretched tight between the webs of cartilage so her wings were like a giant kite.

Amy’s heart skipped a beat. Something inside her soared upwards towards the dragon, willing it success. Go, go! she urged it silently. Go on, you beauty!

Then she saw that Copper and little Squitcher were on the dragon’s back.

Copper had got free!

I did that, Amy told herself. I got her out. There’s something I haven’t spoiled. She grinned happily.

‘Dragons?’ Granite said.

‘Just one dragon,’ said Shane Annigan.

Granite waved a fist towards it. He stamped his foot. ‘Is that her up there? Is that the Beech Twig? Shoot that flying lizard out of the skies!’

Amy didn’t think either of the two men had a weapon, she couldn’t see one. Still, if they were going to try and shoot Copper down, she’d stop them. She crept up behind them.

As she got nearer, Shane reached for his throat. He made a choking sound and spun round.

‘You!’ he spat at her. His face went hard and sharp. ‘Sure, it’s her again, Granite. Your Rock girl has escaped!’ He sneered at her.

Granite growled. ‘How? How did you get out? Do you know some magic I don’t?’ He ground his fist into his palm as if he was trying to wear his hand away. ‘I am angry. I am very angry. No time now. We’ll deal with her later.’ He glared up at the dragon again.

Shane retreated. Amy saw his light glowed again with renewed strength when he moved away from her.

That happened before, she thought. Did I do that? Could I have something that did that?

The knitting.

She clamped her hand over the pockets containing the squares. That was it! Squitcher said they were strong. They’d made her feel better but they made Shane feel bad. A taste of his own medicine. Ha!

The Questrid-shaped bundle wriggled and whined. Amy shivered. Poor thing! Shane said poison would be eating at their flesh. Were they in terrible pain? Was the poison working right now?

She cupped the white rat in her hands, kissed his head. ‘Go on,’ she whispered. ‘You can do it. Just like you did for Ralick. Go!’

She threw the rat onto the swinging cocoon.

‘Hey!’ said Granite. He jerked round. ‘Is that my rat? Blast you, Rat! Where’ve you been?’

The rat ignored him. He raced up to the top of the cocoon. He bit at the thin cord. He chewed and nibbled and gnawed, but Shane’s evil cobweb thread was too strong for him. He couldn’t cut it.

Shane watched the rat. He smiled. He licked his pearly teeth with his tongue. ‘Now and what sort of nasty little creature would that be?’ he said. ‘Seems it’s changed sides, Granite. It happens. Sure, it’s a nasty, dirty, spoiling thing, so it is.’

Shane took a smooth stone from his pocket. He rolled it in his fingers, as if admiring it. Suddenly he took aim.

Amy realised what he was going to do.

‘Don’t!’ she yelled. She leaped towards him.

Shane threw the pebble. It whizzed through the air. It hit the white rat squarely and sharply on his head.

The rat went still. A look of total, bemused surprise filled his eyes. Slowly, very slowly, he looked round the room, searching for Amy. He found her. Their eyes locked. He opened his mouth and gave the smallest squeak. ‘Oh, Rat!’ Amy cried.

The rat’s eyes, so full of sparkle a second before, blanked and went glassy. Before Amy could reach him, he fell backwards and toppled onto the floor.

‘Ahhh! You’ve killed him!’ Amy scooped the rat up. He was warm and limp. His tail lay across her wrist as lifeless as a strand of string. A tiny drop of blood coloured his perfect shell-pink nose. ‘Oh, Rat, my dear Rat.’

‘Killed, is it? Well, and am I surprised, d’you suppose? Wasn’t that just what I was aiming to do?’ Shane Annigan grinned at her. ‘I’ll have no interference from rodent beasties and girls the likes of you!’

‘I hate you. He was my friend. You pig! I—’

Suddenly a great whirling orange and red balloon of flame came hurtling out of the sky towards them. It hit the Crystal Crown with an ear-splitting crack.

‘Dragon fireballs!’ Shane Annigan yelled. He ducked behind Granite.

Amy heard a creaking noise, like ice cracking underfoot, as a criss-crossing, zigzagging line careered across the glass. The dome was cracking. Amy covered her head with her hands and peeped up.

The sky was blotted out by Boldly Seer’s pale underbelly and vast wings. She hovered above them. She sent more fireballs crashing and sparking over the glass. Gusts of purple smoke and showers of ashes rained down on them.

Suddenly the dragon swerved up, away. For one awful moment Amy thought that she was leaving, then she turned and flew back towards them. This time she approached the dome with her scaly legs extended, claws fanned out.

‘What’s it doing? Stop them, Shane!’ Granite said. ‘Do something!’

Boldly Seer landed on the top of the crystal. Her weight squashed the dome as if it were a rubber ball and its sides bulged. Minuscule cracks shot over it, covering every inch. Splinters tinkled to the floor.

The dragon rested on the apex for only a second while she grasped the top of the dome in her claws. She beat her wings strongly. She began to pull. The top of the dome came off. The two suspended bodies were still attached below. The dragon lifted it all.

Fantastic! Amy thought. As if it was a jampot lid, nothing but a jampot lid! ‘Go on, go on!’ she yelled. ‘Go!’

The walls of the dome collapsed in splinters around them.

The crystal was heavy. There were all the fine metal struts that made the dome as well as the glass, metal hooks and the bodies. Boldly Seer struggled. She flapped her wings hard. She snorted and puffed, trying to get away with her trophy.

‘Go, go!’ Amy urged her.

‘Be quiet!’ Shane snapped at her. He was as pale as marble. His eyes harder than diamonds.

Shane shot out his arm. He pointed up at Boldly Seer. A silvery thread flew from Shane’s fingers towards the dragon. It looked like a silver spear, or a shining needle as it streamed to her.

Zap! It hit Boldly Seer with a metallic sound. Immediately it wrapped itself around her leg, coiling round and round. The dragon jolted, arrested in mid-flight. She couldn’t see what had happened. She thrashed her wings, trying to rise, straining against the anchor that held her. But she couldn’t move.

She screamed. It was awful.

‘No, no. Poor Boldly. Don’t,’ begged Amy.

‘That dragon’s nothing but a scallywag, sure it’s not,’ Shane said lightly. He put both hands on the silvery line. Slowly, slowly, like a fisherman fishing the skies, he began to haul the dragon in. ‘Don’t they know there’s no messing with Shane Annigan, the man of the air? Don’t they? Dragon Destroyer. Copper Capturer!’ He laughed. ‘Sure!’ he called up at them, ‘And it’s the air is my element and these strands are stronger than gold. I have you now. You’ll never get away!’

Amy had seen and heard enough.

She leaped at Shane. She wrapped her arms round his neck and dragged on him with all her weight. ‘Stop it! Stop it!’

‘Don’t bother,’ drawled Granite. ‘Nothing brings down the man of the air – not even me.’

But he was wrong.

The moment Amy touched him, Shane jerked. He might have been struck by an electric current. His knees buckled and he collapsed.

‘Get off me! Get her away, Granite!’ He threw Amy aside. He crawled across the floor, keeping hold of the silver thread. He dragged himself to his feet to face her, holding out his arms to stop her. Amy ran at him again.

‘I hate you!’ she yelled.

She jumped at him. She had the two cobweb fabric pieces in her hands. She slapped them against his cheeks. She rubbed them all over his skin.

‘There!’ She pushed them through his pale hair. ‘There!’ His ears. ‘Take that!’ And eyes. ‘There!’

Shane screamed. He tottered as if his legs had snapped. He spun round, he fell. He crashed down amongst the broken glass.