Free Neither Dead Nor Alive by Jack Hastie Page A

island.”
    â€œOh, yes.”
    â€œSo we go home now and I gotta explain to Mum.”
    Suddenly we’re on a different planet.
    â€œYeah. My dad’ll be worried stupid. Steve...”
    â€œUh-uh.”
    â€œPromise me one thing.”
    â€˜â€˜Uh-uh.”
    â€œDon’t tell Mark.”
    â€œWhat about?”
    â€œYou know, Aidan. Don’t ever tease me about him, please.”
    â€œBetter make up a cover story,” I suggest.
    â€œHow you saved me from Gawawl,” she laughs.
    â€œHow you sacrificed the bull.”
    â€œBetter get home.” She stands up and dusts herself down. “Your mum was dead worried the other day.”
    â€œAnd your dad.”
    We trudge across the bridge. Below us the tide is racing in again, with flurries of foam on the crests of little wavelets.
Can evil spirits cross running water by a bridge?
I wonder.
    Fiona reads my thoughts: “Not in Tam o’ Shanter.”
    We’re on the other side now anyway, but we’re in today time; so it doesn’t matter. At least I think so.
    Fiona has other ideas.
    â€œLook,” she says, “there’s something we’ve got to talk about.”
    â€œWhat?”
    She twirls her ponytail.
    â€œMember what I told you about Gawawl being immortal? You remember, in Downey’s barn, when I gave you the dirk.”
    â€œYou mean he’s in today time too?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    I’ve had time to think about this since she mentioned it before.
    â€œWhy’s nobody ever seen
him then?”
    â€œSometimes they have. Remember what MacPhee‘s book says. A hundred years ago people must’ve seen him often.”
    â€œBut not now?”
    â€œMaybe even now. I don’t know. There’s a lot of local folk, like Mrs. Naysmith, won’t walk past Cnoc an Oir after dark. But I do know this: Gawawl keeps the cauldron hidden in there. So long as he’s got it – and nobody disturbs him – he sleeps under the hill, at least most of the time.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œYou musn’t tell anybody it’s there.”
    â€œThey’d not believe us anyway.”
    â€œSteve, do you know what archaeology is?”
    I know the word.
“
Yes
.
When we did that project on the Trojan War an archaeologist found the ruins of Troy; so they knew it was true.”
    â€œCorrect,” she says. “Archaeologists dig into tombs and ruins and look for ancient things. What if they thought a golden cauldron from the Bronze Age might be under your dead dinosaur?”
    â€œThey’d dig it up.”
    â€œRight first time. And Gawawl, he’d waken up and come out to get it back, wouldn’t he? Do you want him to waken up in today time?”
    I decide the last thing I want is Gawawl on the loose in today time, so I’m not going to tell anybody about the cauldron. But what AM I gonna say to Mum … and Mark? Fiona says it doesn’t really matter, so long as we don’t breathe a word about the cauldron.
    We’re coming up to our house now and we agree we’ll go in. Then my mum can phone Fiona’s dad and let him know she’s OK. It’s early. There’ll be nobody up yet.
    At the garden gate we both stop.
    â€œRemember,” she whispers, “no cauldron.”
    I hear myself saying, “Aidan was a king.”
    She
squeezes my elbow.
    â€œBy the way,” she says in a different voice, “I think your dad’ll be here.”
    Dad! That’ll be great. We can go karting at Ledaig tomorrow – after I’ve had a good sleep.
    Mum’s at the window. She’s not dressed, but she looks like she’s been up all night.
    She opens the door and rushes out to meet us.
    On the ridge of the roof croaks … a raven.