Amethyst (8 page)

Someone was hammering on the front door. The birds lifted, twittering in alarm, then drifted back to their perches.

Silver barked. Her hackles rose stiffly like a scrubbing brush.

Cedar and Questrid went to the door. Silver padded behind them growling.

‘Who could it be?’ said Copper. ‘We
never
get visitors!’

‘I’m one, don’t forget,’ said Amy.

The big door was outlined with light. Something on the other side was shining very brightly.

‘What is it?’ whispered Amy.

‘I’ve no idea,’ said Copper.

‘Keep back, Questrid,’ said Cedar. He opened the door. At first it looked like a pillar of dazzling, brilliant light on the doorstep. Then Amy saw it was a man. Light oozed out of the pores of his skin. It came through his clothes and even out of his eyes.

‘Good evening to you. Good evening,’ he called. ‘Do excuse the light now, won’t you? It’ll fade, sure it will.’

He glided into the hall as if blown there on a puff of wind.

He was a small, slender man with silvery hair surrounding a glowing translucent disc of a face. His eyes were pale grey. A white fur cloak was slung over his shoulders. Beneath it, he wore pale floating garments and white boots.

He brushed the snow from his shoulders and hood. ‘My name is Shane Annigan, so it is. Thank you for letting me in. Thank you indeed!’

Everyone watched him as he went into the kitchen. The birds twittered and scattered.

Amy stared. Now there was a new outsider which made her an
insider.

‘The wind has blown us
another
visitor,’ said Cedar. ‘This is Mr Shane Annigan.’ He took the man’s cape and hung it up. Snow melted and dripped to the floor.

‘Come and sit by the fire,’ Amber said. ‘You must be cold. Are you hungry? Tired?’

Nothing ever upsets or surprises her, thought Amy admiringly. She imagined Aunt Agnes twittering and going into a tizz:
Look at that mess on my clean floor! We don’t want your sort here, you light-bulb man! Get off with you!

Shane Annigan illuminated different parts of the room as he sailed past. He made the kitchen seem dull when before it had seemed bright. He wafted towards the big rocking chair and settled down as gently as a feather.

Oriole handed him a mug of hot chocolate. ‘Good evening,’ said Uncle Greenwood, who had come into the kitchen to see what the fuss was. He peered over his spectacles at the visitor. ‘Greenwood’s the name.’ He waved a length of half-worked wood at him. ‘I was carving downstairs. We rarely get strangers at Spindle House, I had to come and see.’

‘Delighted,’ said Shane Annigan. He beamed at Greenwood but gave Amy a quick, suspicious look. She had a sudden premonition that he would interfere with her plans. Ajab of fear shot through her.

‘Have you come far?’ asked Amber.

‘Far, yes …’ Mr Annigan took a sip of his drink. He looked round at everyone. ‘What a family this is!’ He revealed long creamy teeth in a wide smile. ‘I am thinking there is both Wood and Rock in this place?’

Cedar nodded.

‘A good combination.’ His pale eyes glanced from one to the other. ‘But, sure, you must be from the Bird
family?’ he asked Oriole. ‘Since you have beady black eyes and are as round and short as a wren – no offence – it’s plain as plain.’

‘That’s right. Not quite family, being from another clan, but close as you get. Robin too.’

Mr Annigan nodded. ‘Wood, Rock, Bird all gathered together. I myself, as you might have guessed, am of the Air.’

‘Air!
I’ve never met an
Air
person before,’ said Questrid. ‘Do you all shine like that?’

‘Not met a man of Air before? Well, well, there’s a thing. I come from a long way off and was caught in the blizzard, tossed and tumbled and thrown around like a dandelion seed. How I got here I will never know but I saw your lights and … here I am.’

‘Lucky you got blown this way,’ said Cedar. ‘There aren’t many houses around.’

‘I shall ask him questions all night,’ Questrid whispered to Amy, ‘and won’t let him go to bed till he’s told me exactly what it’s like to be – a
lantern
.’

Mr Annigan settled himself back in the chair. He sipped his hot chocolate. As he looked around; his eyes cast a small, narrow beam across the kitchen, like a lighthouse. Amy wondered what it was about him that she didn’t like. Perhaps he smiled too much.

‘Would that be a snow wolf?’ Shane Annigan asked Copper. He nodded at Ralick.

‘His mum, Silver, she’s a snow wolf. We don’t know who the father is.’

What was he interested in the wolf cub for? thought Amy. Ralick was hers. And Granite’s!

‘Where were you going before you drifted to Spindle House?’ asked Cedar.

‘I was on my way to Dragon Mountain,’ said Mr Annigan. He swivelled his silvery gaze round to Cedar.

‘Dragon Mountain! Where’s that? Why?’ Questrid leant forward eagerly. ‘Sounds brilliant! I’d love to see Dragon Mountain.’

‘It’s a long way from here, way past Antimakassar,’ said Shane Annigan. He waved his long fingers through the air; they left a shimmering trail of light behind. ‘You see, I know everything there is to know about dragons, sure and that’s a fact.’

Questrid exchanged an excited look with Copper.

Mr Annigan went on, ‘The dragons called me. It’s as simple as that. When they have a problem, Shane Annigan’s the man!’

Everyone stared at him.

‘Are the dragons like our dragons – friendly, I mean?’ asked Copper.

‘Ruby has a little dragon called Glinty,’ Questrid told him. ‘She’s friendly.’

‘Your mother has one? Does she now? Dragons are most mysterious,’ went on Mr Annigan. ‘They are an ancient race, the dragons …’ His voice dipped to a whisper. ‘Oh, there’s many a story about the dragon world.’

And then, without anyone quite knowing how, he began to tell them stories of fantastic dragons, dangerous dragons, dragons that could cast spells and dragons with fish tails that could swim and breathe underwater. Everyone, even Amy much against her wishes, was
spellbound. When he stopped they were still as statues, leaning forward and waiting for more.

‘We’ve been so impolite,’ said Amber, getting up quickly. ‘We’ve done nothing, only let you entertain us!’

‘Well, now,’ said Mr Annigan, ‘that’s fine. But I’d be most grateful if you’d let me stay the night here, then I’ll set off tomorrow and be at Dragon Mountain as quickly as I can.’

‘Of course,’ said Cedar. ‘Come with me. I’ll show you where you can sleep.’

‘That man’d be useful if you were lost in a dark night, wouldn’t he?’ said Uncle Greenwood. ‘Now he’s gone I can hardly see.’

The room had dulled when Shane Annigan left. Questrid shivered. ‘Seems cold now,’ he said.

Amy played with the ends of her long hair nervously. She didn’t like Shane Annigan. He’d said something strange, what was it? Something wrong … She tapped her finger against the table. She watched Copper stroking the cub’s head. The cub was butting her gently under the chin.

Don’t love it so much, Copper. I wish you wouldn’t, thought Amy. Please don’t. Nobody should love a little old wolf cub the way you do, silly girl. Silly Wood girl.

‘I’m just taking Ralick out.’ Copper dragged on a heavy coat and headed for the door.

‘Me too,’ said Questrid.

Amy waited for them to ask her as well, but they didn’t. It was as though they had completely forgotten
her existence. She watched Questrid pulling a woolly hat down over Copper’s hair so it covered her eyes. She watched Copper flick him with the end of her scarf so he laughed. It all hurt. Jealousy. It was a new sensation, one she barely recognised, only feeling it like a punch in the stomach.

They hadn’t invited her. They didn’t want her. Questrid didn’t like her.

I don’t care, she told herself. Leave me out, ignore me. I don’t care because I’ve got Granite. Ow! Hollow words. I don’t want Granite! I want Copper and Questrid! I want to stay here! I want them to like me.

She got up. She knew what she had to do: tell them everything. Amy slipped outside.

The wind had died down. It was quiet and still. Snow lay heaped around Spindle House in high sculptured banks, whipped into magical shapes like giant meringues. The night was crisp and clear, millions of stars glinting in the sky.

Amy stopped beneath the cover of the porch, alerted by a gruff, low voice. Nobody had seen her.

‘Wish I was lit up like a lantern,’ said the new voice from deep in the shadows by the stables. ‘Can’t see a thing.’

Amy felt a shiver up her spine; it was the voice from Copper’s room last night. Who could it be?

Questrid laughed. ‘It would be great, wouldn’t it? Isn’t Shane fantastic? Oh, I’d love to be a dragon expert like him. I want to travel and have adventures too.’

‘I loved his stories, but don’t you think he’s just a bit creepy?’ asked Copper. ‘His eyes are a bit flat and—’

‘No! I just thought he was great. What do you think, Ralick?’

‘My highly-tuned wolverine senses are suspicious of anyone arriving by such “chance”,’ said the gruff, small voice. ‘I may only have the brain of a cuddly wolf cub, but I thought he was too bright and too sharp.’

‘Oh, Ralick!’ Questrid laughed.

Ralick! Ralick!
It was the little wolf cub speaking! Amy bit back a cry of surprise. The wolf could talk!

No wonder Granite wanted him, thought Amy. How much more valuable was a talking wolf cub than an ordinary one. Why hadn’t Granite told her? Why hadn’t
they
told her? Why hadn’t anyone shared this secret with her?

Because nobody likes you, she told herself. Nobody really likes or trusts you. You’re a spoiler. A horrible, sad little spoiler.

Amy slipped quickly back into the kitchen. Everyone was busy cooking or talking. They didn’t notice her. Her heart was heavy as lead. She could barely move. She slumped in her chair. I can’t steal the cub, he’ll yell when I grab him. It’s impossible. Granite will be so angry … I’ll have to go back to Aunt Agnes and Uncle John …

Copper and Questrid came back. They began to lay the long kitchen table for supper. Amy willed herself to get up. She felt as though she had a boulder strapped to her back. She had to smile. Had to pretend she was all right.

Copper was whispering to her soup spoon.

‘You’re the only person I’ve ever met who talks to cutlery,’ Amy said as cheerily as she could.

‘It won’t behave,’ Copper said. ‘It’s almost as bad as that one we gave you. It’s sycamore wood and it spins around like a whirligig and tips out my soup. It’s a joker.’

‘A balsa wood spoon for Mr Shane Annigan, I think,’ said Questrid. He put the lightest spoon they had beside his bowl. ‘He doesn’t look like he could hold anything heavier … Hey, wouldn’t you love to go to Dragon Mountain?’ he added. He slid an extra chair to the table. ‘Doesn’t it sound fantastic? I’d love my own dragon. Can you imagine how cool that would be? Not one like Glinty, she just sits on her bed of gold and snores.’

‘You’d better not let Aunt Ruby hear you talking like that about her dear Glinty,’ said Copper.

‘Just as well she’s not here tonight,’ said Questrid.

‘I wish she was, though,’ said Copper. ‘I miss her so much.’

‘You know my mum better than me,’ said Questrid. ‘But even I know she loves living in the Rock.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Amy. ‘How can Copper know her better than you?’

‘Well, I’ve only got to know her again recently,’ Questrid said. ‘Ruby lost me when I was six. She went South. She brought Copper up there. Ruby thought Copper was an orphan, you see.’

Shane Annigan came in. Questrid pretended to be blinded. He staggered back with his hands over his eyes. ‘Don’t you keep yourself awake at night?’

Shane laughed. ‘No, no. I’ve these smart photo-receptors in my skin which react, you see, to the amount of light around me. So, when it’s the darkness that’s coming on, I’m light. But I can think myself darker too. Watch me, then.’

He closed his eyes, set his fingertips together and breathed deeply. His shimmering light faded to a gentle warm glow. He opened his eyes. ‘See?’

‘Brilliant!’ said Questrid.

‘Do sit down, Mr Annigan,’ said Amber. She carried some dishes to the table.

‘I
am
very hungry,’ Mr Annigan said. ‘I travelled all the long day and then getting lost in the snow …’

‘Like you, Questrid,’ said Copper.

‘I see that wolf cub never leaves you, does he, Copper?’ Shane said.

‘No, we’re always together. He’s called Ralick after a special toy I had,’ she told him. ‘I’ve still got the first Ralick, but, well, I’m too old for toys. He took over where Ralick left off and so he’s named Ralick too.’

‘He looks like very intelligent; I can see it in his eyes, whereas with dragons—’

‘What?’ Questrid asked.

‘There’s two things to consider with dragons. One, the smoke. If the smoke comes out of the left nostril, the dragon is very clever, from the right nostril, not so clever.’

‘And what else?’

‘A clever dragon is so clever it will direct its smoke out the wrong way, just to confuse you, you see, and make you think it’s stupid.’

‘But, but that means you never know whether a dragon’s clever or not!’ said Copper.

‘Exactly so! Tricky things, dragons. But your cub – he’s got an aura – makes him special.’

‘I think Mr Annigan’s teasing you, dear,’ said Amber, gently.

‘Oh, not really, Mrs Beech. My what delicious food this is. What a kind family. Why, d’you know, this is quite the cosiest house I’ve ever been in.’ He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.

‘It is,’ agreed Copper. ‘It’s alive. You will hear the way it creaks and whispers. You can’t do anything you shouldn’t here – if you do, the place makes such a racket!’

‘Interesting.’ Mr Annigan laughed lightly. ‘If I’m to get up to a spot of mischief, it had better be out of doors I’m thinking!’