First Aid for Fairies and Other Fabled Beasts (15 page)

Sapphire flew over the city for quarter of an hour searching for Yann, but no one could see him or hear his hooves. Either he had got away very fast, thought Helen, or he was hiding in a dark corner. Or perhaps he hadn’t outpaced the Master after all.

Sapphire returned to the field south of Edinburgh where they had landed just a couple of hours before. They clambered off and squatted on the dry grass under the trees.

Rona told the dragon the story of how Lavender’s magic found the Master, Yann’s magic forced the weasel, and Catesby’s bravery let them escape. Sapphire sighed small puffs of smoke, scratching the earth with her claws as the story went on.

When Rona described Yann galloping off, carrying Catesby’s egg, perhaps pursued by the Master’s creatures, the story felt unfinished, but they didn’t have any more to tell.

Helen asked, “What did Catesby actually do?”

Lavender explained. “Phoenixes can burn and then rise from the ashes, but they can only hatch seven times. So Catesby has given one of his lives to get us out of the Master’s maze. But he may not hatch again for a long time; not in time to find the Book, not in time to come to the Solstice Gathering … perhaps not while we are still young. He is Yann’s best friend, and now Yann may be a grey mane before he can talk to Catesby about tonight, and ask his forgiveness for the way he twisted magic to get that weasel to bring us the clue.”

Sapphire growled a question and Lavender answered, “I don’t know where the Master is now. I felt my feather burn when Catesby burst into flames. We are no longer connected.”

“Oh no!” exclaimed Helen. “Now we don’t know if he’s nearby. He could ambush us again.”

“Well,
I’m
delighted I can’t feel him anymore,” said Lavender, “I felt ill all the time that I was part of him.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that when I sewed the feather in.”

“We got the clue back. That’s what matters.”

But they were all thinking about Yann and Catesby. They mattered too.

“Let’s read the clue,” suggested Rona. “Let’s try to finish this now. We must have the Book back by tomorrow evening and if we have to travel far to fetch it, we had better start now.”

Helen opened her green bag and pulled out the battered piece of leather. Two holes in it had been repaired with tiny red stitches.

Lavender cast a clear white light on the words written on the leather in dark brown ink.

Helen sighed. “Another riddle. Why couldn’t the Book just draw us a map? Will we have to go to the library again to work this one out?”

“Perhaps!” exclaimed Lavender. “Perhaps that is the very place.”

The other three looked at her expectantly.

The fairy grinned. “The Book crafted this riddle. What are a book’s mother and father?”

“The people who wrote it?” asked Helen. “Which in this case are the wizard and fairy who loved unanswerable questions. But they’re both dead, aren’t they?”

“Yes, long ago.”

“Long enough ago for them to be fossils and have stone eyes? That seems unlikely.”

“What are a book’s brothers and sisters?” Lavender asked.

Rona shrugged. “Other books?”

Helen said impatiently, “Lavender, what do you know?”

“In your hall of books, in your building of learning, I met all those stone heads. One of them, a bearded man in a cloak of stars, had a tiny fairy on his shoulder. I wanted to ask you about him but you found Tam Linn and I forgot. Could he be the wizard who wrote the book?”

“But why would he be in my school? Was he a headmaster or a local poet, like all the other busts?”

“Wizards travel among humans in many guises. Who can say what he was to the people of Clovenshaws?”

“So if he is the father and the fairy is the mother, then the line of brothers and sisters must be the books on the shelves of the school library! We’ve been using the library to follow the Book’s clues, and the Book’s been there all the time.” Helen put her head down on her knees and groaned.

“The Book has been testing us,” said Rona. “How better to do it than to watch us unravel its clues?”

Helen looked up again. “But how could the Book know that Yann would come to me with his cut leg, or that I would use the school library to help you?”

“The Book knows all the answers,” said Rona serenely. Helen groaned again.

“So, how do we get into your school to find the Book?” said Lavender briskly.

“We don’t. Not tonight.” Helen thought of the broken glass and scattered shoes in the shop. “We aren’t going to break in and damage anything. I’m sure the Book wouldn’t appreciate that. We’ll go in tomorrow, nice and quietly, when the school opens, and invite the Book to leave its brothers and sisters and go home with you.”

After retrieving her old fiddle from the hill, Helen put the case and the first aid kit in the garage, and took out the longest ladder she could find. With Rona’s help she manoeuvred it round the house to her bedroom window.

Hugging Rona goodbye, she climbed stiffly up the ladder and shoved at the window. But it was shut fast. Someone had locked it from the inside. Someone had been in her room and discovered that she wasn’t there.

Sighing, she slid down the ladder, and walked reluctantly to the back door. Her Mum was sitting at the long kitchen table, with a book open in front of her and a mug of cold coffee in her hand.

Helen walked in and sat down at the other end of the table. Her Mum pointed to the kitchen clock. It was three in the morning.

She said calmly, “Where have you been? What have you been doing?”

Helen thought of all the lies she could tell. But none of them were convincing.

“I’ve been with some friends. Helping them with a problem.”

“Was that what you were doing last night too?”

Helen nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“It’s the middle of winter. It’s pitch black out there. It just isn’t safe to be wandering around when I think you’re in your bed. What kind of trouble are your friends in?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Is it illegal?”

“No.”

“Is it to do with …” her Mum’s calm voice wavered. “Oh Helen, is it to do with smoking, or drinking, or drugs, or motorbikes?”

“No, none of those things.”

“Is it to do with boys?”

Helen briefly considered whether Yann was a boy, and decided four legs and a tail meant he wasn’t a boy as her Mum would understand it.

“It isn’t about boys.”

“Is it some spooky nonsense like ouija boards, or that bonfire on the hill this evening?”

Helen thought about the real, physical presence of the Master in the surgery and the teddy in his mouth, and said carefully, “No, Mum, it is not some spooky nonsense like ouija boards.”

“Is it … This is ridiculous! We are not playing twenty questions all night. You will tell me where you have been, who you have been with and what you have been doing. Or you will lose all your privileges and will have to stay in the house and garden just like Nicola.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“I have been so scared. Your Dad’s been sitting with Nicola since she developed a temperature earlier, so I’ve been here all alone since midnight, wondering if you were at the bottom of the Tweed or run over by a car. But I couldn’t call the police or the rescue team again because this time I thought you were lost on purpose. You
will
tell me what you have been doing. Now!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you, Mum.”

Helen saw a flicker of movement at the kitchen window, and thought immediately of the final clue, now folded up inside her fleece. Had the Master come back? She had to get her Mum out of danger. “Mum, please can we talk about this in the morning? I’m a bit too tired just now.”

Her Mum stood up and kicked her own chair across the kitchen.

The crash broke the calm and quiet, and now she was shouting. “Don’t you try to dismiss me, young lady. If you are too tired to have a discussion now, then you should have got a good night’s sleep instead of spending the night wandering about the countryside. Tell me what you have been doing. Tell me now.”

Helen tried not to glance at the window again, and kept her voice soft. “I am very sorry that I
went out without permission. But I can’t tell you.” Helen stood up.

“Right. That’s it!” her Mum yelled. “You are grounded from now on. You will not be going out with any friends, or to any films or parties over Christmas. Nor well into next year.”

“Can I go to school?”

“Don’t be cheeky! Of course you can go to school. But you won’t be going anywhere else for a while. Now up to bed, and don’t you
dare
leave your room again.”

“I’ll just get a drink of water. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Her Mum stood watching Helen as she poured a glass of water, then took some very slow sips. Her Mum sighed heavily and strode out of the room without another word.

Helen waited until her Mum was upstairs, then she got the bread knife out of the dishwasher and went quietly to the back door. She jerked the door open and stood there with the knife held out in front of her.

In the doorway was a familiar shape.

“Yann! Are you alright?” she whispered.

“I’m fine. Was that your mother?”

“Yes. She’s a bit annoyed.”

“I’m ashamed to say that I overheard. You did not betray us when she asked you to.”

“No. She just needed to shout at me and I had to let her.”

“I never talk to my father now without him shouting at me. Is it like this for everyone? Catesby’s no help about parents, because his parents are both
eggs at the moment, so he gets on fine with them.”

“Parents are harder to deal with than
monsters
. You have to love them as well as fight with them.”

“Yes,” agreed Yann, “and you can’t just kick them and run away either.”

“Tempting thought,” grinned Helen, “but I have nowhere to run to.”

“Do you still have the clue?”

“Yes,” she wriggled it out from under her fleece and handed it to him, “but we’ve already worked it out. The Book is in my school library. We’ll get it tomorrow morning.”

Helen quickly told Yann the plan she and the others had worked out. Yann grunted. “Why can’t we just push a window in and get the Book right now? Win it with hoof and tooth and claw.”

“Because we need to show a bit of respect for the Book, its family and my school. We’ll get it calmly and quietly in the morning and that’ll be plenty of time for your Solstice celebrations in the evening.”

“But the Master has read the riddle. He could still get there before we do.”

“Then keep watch on the library. You told me that the Book took fright when you borrowed it, so don’t you think that retrieving it calmly would be a better idea than going in kicking and biting? That weasel certainly wishes it hadn’t bitten you.”

Yann shied away from her. “You don’t understand about the weasel.”

“I understand evil more every night I spend
with you, Yann. I thought you were on the side of the good guys. But now I’m not so sure.”

“So why didn’t you betray us to your mother, if you think we are as bad as the Master?” Yann demanded.

“I don’t know, Yann. Maybe because the Master enjoys power over others … and you didn’t.”

“Don’t try to get inside my head, human child, and don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I am no one’s pet pony!”

Yann stamped his hoof once and galloped off to leap the fence.

On her way to bed, Helen stood for a while at her parents’ door, wondering if she should go in and talk to her Mum again. Then she shook her head, whispered, “Night night,” and went to bed herself.

Helen dragged herself awake, stiff, sore and still exhausted. But she had to get up. It was Friday. The Winter Solstice. The quest would end today, in success or failure.

She waited until she heard her Mum go into the shower, then she crept downstairs to make herself breakfast.

Her Dad came in to the bright warm kitchen as she was eating her Gran’s apple jelly on toast.

“Dad, I’m so sorry about last night.”

“Oh Helen,” he sighed and shook his head. “Last night we were so worried about you, and this morning we’re very disappointed. I know your Mum has grounded you, so I don’t want to go through it all again.” He sat down beside her. “But if you need to tell me anything, or ask me anything, then I will always listen, and I will try hard not to judge.”

“Thanks, Dad. I might do that.”

“Do you want a warm drink before going out in the cold air? It’s frosty out there.”

“No thanks. I need to rehearse my piece for the concert, then I’ll head off to school.”

Helen went up to her room, and after a few finger exercises, she played Solstice to herself. It
was nearly finished but there was a darker edge in it now that she hoped she could balance with a happy ending.

Her Mum was already in the small animal surgery when Helen left for school, and her Dad and a snotty, sneezy Nicola were making patterns on the kitchen table with toast fingers. As she opened the back door, Helen said, “See you soon, I hope.”

“Bye, darling,” her Dad replied, without looking up.

“Bye bye, Hen.” Nicola waved her sticky pink teddy.

It was a clear, cold day. There were no clouds in the pale blue sky and Helen’s breath glittered in the air as she strode down the lane. Silver frost glistened on the fence posts and bare bushes, and her feet crunched on shallow icy puddles.

She could see no other living things, but she felt them all around her. Shiftings in hedges and trees. Passing whiffs of singed hair, damp fur and sudden stinks like the zoo on a hot day. And once a tiny squeak, cut off as soon as it started.

Kirsty was waiting for Helen at the end of her lane.

“How are you today?” she said cheerfully, trotting beside her on the grass verge.

“Walk in the middle of the lane,” instructed Helen.

“What?”

“Just walk down the centre, not too near the hedges.”

“Why?”

“Och, you know, there are some really jaggy bushes round here, and you don’t want to rip your jacket. Cold today, isn’t it?”

Kirsty joined Helen in the centre of the path and looked oddly at her.

“Do you really want to talk about the weather?”

“No.”

They walked in silence towards the school. When they arrived at the playground, the children who came by bus from the furthest farms were there already, their voices sounding very small under the huge bright winter sky.

Helen put her school bag and fiddle case right in the middle of the playground.

“Do me a favour, Kirsty. Stay here with these for a minute.”

“Why, do you have the crown jewels in there?”

“Please. I’ll just be a minute.”

She looked around but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. No horns, no flicking
whipping
tails, no sharp teeth, no fairy wings or dragon scales. But she felt a lot of eyes on her.

She walked to the school door, pushed it open and went in, striding down the modern corridors to the door of the old building. It was heavy and stiff, but she shoved it open with her shoulder. There were no lights on. This bit of the school wasn’t cleaned as often as the classrooms, and no one had been in here yet. She flicked on all the light switches, not caring about global warming today, walked towards the library, and taking a deep breath, pushed open the door.

She had dreaded seeing chaos and destruction, but the room was as dusty and musty and haphazardly untidy as it always was. Perhaps no one had been here since she had read the story of Tam Linn yesterday lunchtime.

She glanced round the top shelves. There was the bust Lavender had described; a smiling man with a long beard that had never been in fashion, a cloak with stars on it and a tiny figure on his shoulder.

Helen cleared her throat and spoke to the shelves, turning round slowly to address each wall of the library in turn.

“Book. Book of questions and answers. I am here on behalf of the young fabled beasts who took you from your place of safety. They are sorry they disturbed you, and apologize for putting you in danger. They have solved all your riddles and passed most of the tests you set them. They ask now that they might have the honour of returning you to your home, and paying you the respect you deserve tonight at the Winter Solstice celebration. Please.”

She paused and looked round the shelves. Nothing happened, not a puff of dust or a shifting page.

“Oh, come on! They’ve tried really hard!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a slight movement and she whirled round. Everything was still, but under the bust of the wizard, one book was out of alignment, poking just over the edge of the shelf.

Helen moved the unwieldy wooden ladder on wheels and climbed up.

“Thank you,” she said and reached out for the Book.

Its silver cover was warm to the touch and she held it gently as she climbed down. She stood at the bottom of the ladder and thought of the answers in the Book. Perhaps in there she could find out why Yann hated humans so much. Perhaps the Book would tell her why she could never do anything that pleased her Mum. Perhaps the end of the piece of music was there, or even exam answers for next term.

She looked at the pearly clasp holding the Book closed, but she didn’t touch it. She would find out all these things in good time. Turning her back on the shelves, she faced the door and tightened her grip on the Book. “Here we go. I hope this works.”

Helen marched out of the library, along the corridor and into the new school, past Mr Crombie and Mrs Murray, who were chatting outside the staffroom.

“Morning,” she said and kept going.

She pushed out of the school door and into the playground. The sky was no longer blue. The air was no longer crisp. A mist had fallen over the
village
, clinging to everything, subduing the children playing outside. Helen could see only three steps ahead of her.

She walked straight to the hedge between the school grounds and the new village hall. As she reached it, Rona stepped out from between the bushes and held out her hands. Helen put the Book in them, then Rona disappeared.

Almost instantly there were fast hoof-beats in the fog, and a streak of purple and blue in the air. The Book was going home, as fast as Yann’s legs could carry it, protected by Sapphire’s fire and Lavender’s wand.

Helen heard a scurrying and a chattering, a hissing and a growling. Then a disappointed silence. And slowly the mist began to lift.

Kirsty came up, dragging all the bags.

“Who was that? Did I see you with a girl?”

“Yes. But I don’t think I’ll be seeing her again.”

Helen sat down suddenly on the tarmac and hunted in her pockets for a packet of hankies.