Free Jack Shian and the Destiny Stone by Andrew Symon Page A

let us in.”
    “If they see humans with their flag, that won’t look like an act of friendship,” stated Phineas coldly. “We must be careful.”
    “There it is!” cried Ossian triumphantly. Having run ahead, he was now pointing to a striking silver tree that glistened in the pale moonlight. “Let’s get inside!”
    “Wait,” urged Grandpa Sandy. “They’re bound to know we’re coming. We need to approach deiseil.”
    “Deiseil?” asked Jack, turning to his father. The bough was not twenty yards ahead of them.
    “Sunwise – it shows we come in peace. Grandpa’s right: they’re bound to have had people watching us. Caskill’s battle will have woken every Shian for miles around. Our presence here is no secret.”
    “But we don’t have time for niceties,” snapped Murkle. “And in any case there’s no sun: it’s nearly midnight.”
    “If we go in without doing this, we’ll throw everything away,” stated Phineas firmly. “I’ll lead.”
    He started forward, and the whole crowd fell into line behind him.
    “What’s deiseil?” Lizzie yawned expansively as she accompanied her sister.
    “We have to go clockwise around the tree, three times: west, then north, then east, and south. That way they’ll know we’re not attacking.” Jack proudly showed off something he’d remembered from a Murkle lesson.
    But that doesn’t explain why he doesn’t remember it himself, he thought. Honestly.
    Murkle’s enthusiasm was indeed once again running ahead of his book learning. The expert on Shian tales fidgeted, keen to get inside the tree; but progress was not smooth. By the time the crowd had all gone round the tree, the head of the queue had met the tail, and there was some confusion over who had gone round how many times.
    “This is ridiculous!” shouted Murkle as people at the back collided with those ahead of them. “We must get inside!”
    Having finally satisfied himself that everyone had indeed completed the three circuits, Grandpa Sandy halted and held the flag up.
    “This had better work,” muttered Jack.
    Grandpa held the flag out towards the silver bough and shouted, “ Effatha! ”
    “Will the charm work here?” whispered Rana to Petros.
    She needn’t have worried. The tree glowed, and a door in its side opened, revealing a staircase leading down.
    “Inside! Quick!”
    Jack was in just behind his grandfather as he stepped into the tree. The spiral staircase was steep, and he nearly lost his footing as they clattered down the stairs.
    “What time is it?” asked Murkle anxiously as the last one reached the foot of the stairs.
    They were in a long chamber, lit only by a single burning torch.
    “A few minutes before midnight,” replied Phineas testily. “Let’s get in.”
    Jack was dimly aware of music, but he couldn’t locate its source.
    “What is this place?” asked Rana.
    “It’s like the chamber outside the hall at Cos-Howe,” said Ossian. “Look, there’s the door.”
    Jack had been unable to see the dim outline of a large wooden door in the gloom, but now his grandfather strode up and struck the door with his sceptre. The sound echoed around the antechamber.
    The door opened with a whoosh!, spilling music and light. Framed in the doorway was a tall red-haired man, who briefly contemplated the crowd before him. Then he saw the flag.
    “You … have the flag? On Hallows’ Eve?”
    Quickly, he indicated for the crowd to enter.
    If the antechamber had been like the one at Cos-Howe, there the resemblance ended. This was the biggest hall Jack had ever seen – or imagined. Burning torches lined the sides, throwing out heat and light. The celebrations were in full swing. Jack was overwhelmed by the number of people, the music, the laughter – but mostly by the smell and sight of the food. His stomach rumbled, and he moved involuntarily towards a table with food scattered over its surface.
    His father’s arm restrained him.
    “Later. We have business to conduct