Jack Shian and the Destiny Stone by Andrew Symon Page A

out it’s part of the Stone.”
    “Well, let’s tell Grandpa. If he knows what the Raglan is, he’s bound to want to go there.”
    “There’s something else. Didn’t you hear it in his voice?”
    Jack thought back to the way his grandfather had sounded just now, then to the giant’s bridge at midsummer. I’ll never forget that smell of Phosphan. His grandfather had been scared then; terrified, even. Terrified of Malevola and her demons.
    “Malevola came from Tula, right?”
    Phineas nodded.
    “And Ossian said the Boaban Shee are there, and really bad witches. Grandpa’s scared, isn’t he? I always thought he was so … strong.”
    “What Malevola did to him is unimaginable, Jack. We shouldn’t think harshly of him for that. Deep down he connects Tula with what Malevola did to him. Whether he knows it or not, that’s why he’s determined to avoid going there. Maybe it’s for the best.”
    “But that’ll mean splitting up. Shouldn’t we stay together?”
    “Not if we’re arguing all the way. Sometimes a smaller force can achieve more.”
    “Can’t we at least tell him why we’re going to Tula?”
    “He won’t believe that – he’s terrified of Tula. But he might accept that the HebShian have to go there. The Gusog feather is part of their history.”
    “But it only took us three days to sail here from Ilanbeg. Even allowing for bad weather, we could get to Novehowe in a week or so.”
    “The sail from Ilanbeg was a breeze, Jack. From here on it’s really tough.”
    Jack thought about Petros being seasick. It wasn’t a breeze for him.
    Seeing Jack’s look of disbelief, Phineas continued, “It’s going to be much harder, and not just because of the weather. Whether we head for Novehowe or Tula, we need to leave before too long. Before the Blue Men of the Minch wake up, anyway.”
     

13
The Cailleach
    As Phineas went to find Iain Dubh and Ishona, Jack wandered back into the room where his grandfather lay.
    When Grandpa Sandy saw Jack, he reached out for his hand.
    “You are the only one who can make the Mapa Mundi work,” he gasped. “What does it show you?”
    “Iain Dubh’s got the Mapa , Grandpa. He was looking at it when … when you fainted.”
    “Then maybe he can see it too. Our powers do not work well here. That is why we must enlist the Norseelie to help us retake Edinburgh. Now, let us rejoin our hosts.”
    Sandy sat up painfully, steadied himself, then stood up. Armina tsk ed as he wobbled slightly, and moved forward to provide support. With Murkle on the other side, the group made their way back to the great hall.
    At least the smell of Phosphan has gone.
    “And how is our honoured guest?”
    “I apologise; a recent illness lingers within me. But we must discuss our plan.”
    “We have gathered your other companions,” said Iain Dubh, indicating Enda, Telos and the others, seated at nearby tables.
    Jack, his father and grandfather sat themselves at Iain Dubh’s table as Telos stood up, and announced, “Your island brew was a little strong for most of us. Let us repay your compliment with some traditional Irish poteen.”
    He produced a flagon and proceeded to pour its contents into the goblets on the top table. As he poured into Jack’s, he paused and stumbled forward, grasping the goblet in his right hand.
    “Clumsy!” he said cheerfully, as he righted the goblet. “Don’t want you getting drunk. Go easy on that.”
    “I propose that we divide into two groups,” said Phineas, rising, and holding his goblet aloft. “My father will take one group straight to Novehowe; the other will come with me and the Hebseelie to Tula first, then Novehowe. From there we can make our way to Edinburgh.”
    “Phineas is right!” announced Iain Dubh, also rising. “The Tula Shian must be dealt with; only then can you take on the Kildashie.”
    Grandpa Sandy sat silently, staring ahead of him.
    “Sandy!” hissed Armina from the next table. “Speak for the