Free The Underground City by Anne Forbes Page B

the mirror that nestled in the palm of his hand.
    Casimir glared back at him. “Grow up, Lewis! You got what you wished for and I’ve hexed the painting so that no one will ever give it more than a passing glance.”
    Lewis looked doubtful. “You mean they’ll take it for a print?” he queried.
    “Whatever,” muttered Casimir. “
I’m
not stupid, even if you are! Do you really think I want the police knocking on your front door? You’re quite safe and that’s the end of it!”
    Relief flooded through Lewis. “Thank goodness!” he said. “You should have
seen
the headlines in the papers!”
    “I
did
see the headlines in the papers,” Casimir snapped. “I read them with you!”
    “You mean you can see through my eyes?” Lewis wasn’t too sure if he was happy at the thought or not.
    “Of course I can. Now give over, Lewis, there’s something I want you to do for me.”
    “What’s that?” Lewis asked apprehensively.
    “Nothing drastic! I want you to leave this road and climb to the top of Arthur’s Seat.”
    “Why?” asked Lewis. “If it’s a view of Edinburgh you want then there’s one just round the corner.”
    “I don’t want a view of Edinburgh, Lewis,” Casimir snapped irritably. “Just do as you’re told, for once!”
    The slope was steep with patches of snow lying here and there on the ground. Lewis muttered under his breath, more worried about keeping his trainers clean than doing what Casimir wanted and was glad when the magician called a halt. “Now, Lewis, hold the mirror in front of you and go carefully!”
    Lewis, remembering the pillar of magic he had found in Ardray, moved steadily upwards and then came to a halt. He held his hands out and tried to take another step forward and just couldn’t. It was as though an invisible curtain lay between him and the summit of the hill. “It’s the strangest thing,” he said to Casimir in a puzzled voice. “There’s something in the way and I don’t seem to be able to go any further. There’s nothing that I can see to stop me, but … I just can’t move forward.”
    “That’s all I wanted to know,” Casimir said in a tired voice. “The MacArthurs have put a protective shield round the hill.”
    “Who on earth are the MacArthurs?” asked Lewis, turning thankfully to make his way down towards the loch again.
    “They’re a magic people who live inside Arthur’s Seat. I want to talk to them.”
    “About your son, Prince Kalman?” asked Lewis sympathetically , glancing at Casimir’s face in the little mirror. Casimir, however, was deep in thought and didn’t answer. In a way, he was quite glad that the magic shield had stopped Lewis in his tracks for he hadn’t really decided what he was going to say to the MacArthur when they met. And the more he thought about it, the more of a problem it became. For how could he possibly justify the theft of the Sultan’s crown to the MacArthur? The long and the short of it was that he couldn’t. The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous and yet, even after the hundreds ofyears he had spent mouldering in the well at Al Antara, he could still remember the overwhelming urge that had possessed him. Mind and body had been filled with greed for the crown and its power. And Kalman had been the same. They must both have been mad, he thought grimly. There could be no other explanation. What on earth had possessed him to go to such lengths?

    Flying high above the hill, Kitor flew on his daily patrol over Arthur’s Seat. He didn’t have to do it but he felt that it helped the Ranger and was a small return for making him part of his family. So, if any of the sheep strayed or got themselves caught on the crags, he let the Ranger know and, with the MacArthurs on holiday in Turkey, he also kept an eye open for trouble from the world of magic. Although this was always a possibility, it was, nevertheless, remote and the last thing Kitor had expected were problems from that particular quarter. He