Free Jack Shian and the Destiny Stone by Andrew Symon

led the crowd past the track Caskill had taken. At the end of the bay, another path led up to a small enclosure, in the centre of which stood a gnarled bourtree.
    Fifty Shian was a big crowd to gather around the one tree, but the spot was sheltered, and gave a good view of the castle.
    “How does he get in?” asked Jack of his father.
    “I’m guessing he’s been in before. He’s certainly the only one here who can brave the iron. None of us would get very far in there.”
    “So why’d the humans have the flag?”
    “Lost in the mists of time, I’m afraid. They’ve had it centuries, mind. And they’ve even used it in their own battles. It’s their talisman.”
    “So why’s it so important to the local Shian?”
    “It was theirs to begin with. Or so legend has it. At any rate, it’s the best way we have of gaining an audience with the Hebseelie Court. But I hope Caskill’s not long in there. We’ll need to get to Balbegan by midnight; otherwise the game’s lost.”
    It’s not a game, thought Jack. I’ve seen the Kildashie. And what the Thanatos are doing is no joke either. We need this.
    Twilight faded to night, and a fine drizzle settled on the waiting crowd. Jack shivered.
    Some Hallows’ Eve.
    Then he remembered that he’d spent most of the last Hallows’ Eve in a tree trunk at Dunvik.
    This isn’t so bad, I guess. At least there’s a little moonlight.
    But it was a long time before there was any sign of activity. A church bell rang the hours with increasing frequency. Eight o’clock came and went; and nine; and ten.
    Jack looked over to where his father and grandfather were conversing with the McCools. Are they planning an attack?
    Eleven o’clock.
    If we don’t get it soon, we might just as well admit defeat.
    Quarter past.
    Out of the gloom came a loud belch, and a growling laugh. Then, lumbering towards them came the figure of Caskill. He swayed gently as he approached, and belched again. In his left hand he proudly carried what looked on him like a small pennant …
    The Shian flag! A cheer went up from the crowd.
    … while in his right hand he clutched loaves of bread, two hams, and several bottles of wine.
    Caskill flung down his booty, and hiccupped happily.
    “He’s drunk!” shouted Armina. “Do you mean he’s been in there having a party while we’ve been out here waiting for him?!”
    Grandpa Sandy bent down and scooped up the Shian flag.
    “We must get to Balbegan. There’s no time to lose!”
    Turning to Jack, Phineas said, “Perhaps you’d give him the charm, Jack? I think he’d like that.”
    Caskill had sat down, and was trying to persuade those looking on to share his food. Jack strode up. Despite the gnawing hunger in his stomach, he spoke resolutely.
    “Caskill, we thank you for the flag. We must leave and go to Balbegan now. You may go where you wish. The charm you need is ‘Digitalis’. Do you understand?”
    “’Talis.” Caskill nodded, and belched again.
    “‘Digitalis’, Caskill.”
    “We haven’t time for this,” said Grandpa, tugging Jack’s sleeve. “We must get to the Hebseelie Court, or all is lost.”
     

10
The Hebseelie Court
    In the gloom of the night, the fifty Shian made their way north over the short distance towards Balbegan. Grandpa Sandy proudly held the Shian flag aloft as he urged them on, but tiredness was taking its toll. Lizzie was almost walking in her sleep, and was only kept upright by Rana’s determined grip on her arm.
    “The Hebseelie Court meets under the silver bough,” said Grandpa encouragingly, and striding forward. “They’ll be there for Hallows’ Eve.”
    “Couldn’t we grow to human size?” asked Petros, struggling to keep up. “We’d get there quicker.”
    “For centuries the Hebseelie Court has had little to do with humans,” replied his grandfather. “If we were to try that, they would conclude it was human trickery.”
    “But we have the Shian flag,” pointed out Petros. “They’re bound to