18

As shows went, it was probably the best Jack and Kerry had ever seen. The fact that they were part of it made it more exciting.

And the fact that they just couldn't tell where pure sleight-of-hand ended and magic kicked in, helped take their minds off matters at hand and the likely outcome.

Brand produced thin reed pipes which he put to his mouth and warbled a tune in time with Score's fiddling – fuggling - for he never dropped a ball the whole time – and Thin Doolan's drumming.

Score threw a red ball high into the air, and when Jack followed its progress, he saw the cages high above them. His heart skipped a beat.

Corriwen Redthorn stared down at him, her face pale in the smoke, both hands gripping the bars of the cage. He darted his eyes towards Fainn, then checked himself before he gave himself away and looked back at Score who played and juggled, but let his eyes wander all round, like a soldier working out his tactics.

"Don't look," Jack whispered to Kerry. "She's here."

He clasped Kerry's arm tight, making sure he didn't gawp. "They're watching us."

He turned away. The red ball reached the apex of its flight and fell slowly towards the flagstones. Just before it hit, Brand let out a piercing note on his pipes and the ball exploded in a fountain of glittering sparks, and Tig and Tag suddenly appeared before them, tumbling out of the smoking sparks, dressed one in red and the other in purple, joined back-to-back as if glued together.

They catapulted out from the sparking fountain in a blur of arms and legs, now up, now down, now on hand, now on foot, rippling around the great hall in rolling cartwheels and somersaults. They spun at the end of the hall and came whirling back, reached the far end of the table and then they were on its surface, tumbling past the astonished revellers, moving like a single nimble creature, never disturbing a plate or a goblet as they reached the centre and then spun around each other in faster and faster circles, sometimes joined, sometimes apart.

Jack thought that apart from the sight of Corrie Redthorn flying through the spume of the great waterfall on Temair, it was the most elegant thing he had ever seen.

Tig and Tag came rolling back down the table. Now they held each other's shoulders and formed one long single creature who arced to land feet first, feet first again until they flew from the end of the table, spinning together in the air.

Score threw another ball towards where they were about to land. Brand aimed his pipes and produced another shriek of sound.

Purple sparks cascaded and in the blink of an eye Tig and Tag vanished in a puff of pink smoke.

Even the big fierce men around the table were impressed. Dermott slammed his goblet on the table in applause. But Fainn hunched even lower, mouth turned down.

Natterjack approached the table, squat and ungainly. He lifted an apple from a bowl, held it up for all to see, turned his hand and the apple vanished. He did the same with a leg of mutton, inches away from the reveller who was just about to carve a slice from it, faster than most eyes could follow. But Jack, watching from behind Score Four-arm saw him perform a truly amazing feat. While distracting attention with his free hand, his wide mouth opened in an impossible gape and a long tongue flicked out, grabbed the ham and whipped it into the big mouth. Natterjack's bulging eyes blinked hard, seemed to disappear deep into their sockets, and the ham disappeared in a blur.

Score put his fiddle down and drew out a dozen sharp knives. Thin Doolan picked up a bowl of apples and threw them all into the air at once. Score's arms snaked out and the knives were all in the air, spinning among the falling apples and the astonished audience saw each piece of fruit sliced in half before they hit the ground.

Then Thin Doolan picked up a long knife one of the trencherman had used to carve his meat, and before anyone could stop him, he threw it straight for Score's head.

The juggler didn't miss a beat. The knife came whirling in at him and he plucked it from the air to join the others in the deadly dance around his head.

Brand clambered on his tub.

"My Lords," he crowed. "Many have tried and many have failed to deter Master Score from his performance. However, I am sure that one of you fine warriors is more skilful. Master Score welcomes you to do your best…or your worst."

Dermott laughed and slapped his hands on the table.

"Now there's a challenge, if I ever heard one." He pointed at a brawny man near the end. "You, Coglan. I've seen you beat the best. Let's show them!"

The man turned in his seat, drew out his blade and without seeming to move, shot it at the juggler.

Jack saw Score's eyes acknowledge the incoming blade. He changed his stance just a fraction and caught the knife by the handle, inches from his eye, and it joined the others in the air.

"Well caught, strangeling," Coglan bawled, nudged the man next to him in encouragement. He stood, hefted a short sword, swung his whole body into the throw.

Score turned aside, snatched the sword, spun on his heel and without pause threw it at the nearest wooden pillar where it hit point-first and dug itself deep into the timber.

Somebody roared approval and then the whole table of revellers were on their feet, each one determined to show his mettle. The blades came thick and fast and deadly, but each one Score caught effortlessly and with astonishing speed and accuracy, threw it to thud into the pillar.

In mere seconds, the timber was spiked with quivering blades thrumming like bass strings.

And in the meantime, Jack and Kerry, who were as impressed as anyone in the great hall, watched Thin Doolan and Natterjack weave their way around the guests while their attention was diverted. Thin Doolan seemed to suck in his breath and when he turned side on, he was barely visible, as if he'd been ironed flat. He divested the roisterers of purses, jewels and anything else and passed them to Natterjack who made them disappear in his own special way.

Tig and Tag came cartwheeling past Score and towards the pillar. For the first time they separated with an audible snap, tumbling around the post and then they spun upwards, using the spiked knives and swords as a ladder, weaving an intricate dance as they spiralled higher and higher together in perfect synchrony.

Brand nodded to Jack and Kerry. They had practised all day, with the help of Rune's boots, but still they were both nervous. There was too much at stake. Score winked encouragement.

"Come on Jack," Kerry said. "No business like showbusiness."

He skipped forward, crouched, then leapt up, higher than Score himself. The juggler caught him with two hands, spun him with the other two and Kerry landed lightly on the left pair of shoulders. Jack followed, letting the boots do the business, to land on the opposite side.

Jack risked a glance overhead. Corriwen's pale face was pressed against the bars of the cage, barely seen in the smoke up there, watching them in amazement.

"Now for real magic!" Brand leapt from his tub, dug into the bottomless bag and produced a long coil of rope. He tossed it into the air and when it was still rising, he produced his pipes again and began to play a fast tune.

The rope uncoiled as it rose, wavering in the air, snaking up and up until its top end disappeared into the pall of smoke up at the rafters.

Then it stopped. And it stayed. Brand's fingers danced on the pipes and the rope swayed like a snake, but remained upright.

"Sorcery!" a voice shouted from the table.

Brand kept playing and the rope kept swaying, its knotted end lost in the smoke.

"Now," Score said. He held his arms out on either side. Jack and Kerry stepped out, and Score took their weight on his hands. His muscles bunched, and then they were flying. Jack felt his stomach flip as if he had stepped into a fast elevator. Up and up he sailed, and the faces below seemed to shrink.

He caught the rope with both hands, feeling it twang as Kerry grabbed just below him, then began to climb, hand over hand, putting all his strength into it. He reached the top knot, maybe forty feet high where the light was dim.

"Wait for it," he told Kerry.

Down below, Score collected his multi-coloured juggling balls, tossed them around his head, then launched them up to where Jack and Kerry clung to the rope. Instantly Brand changed the tune on the pipes. The balls popped, loud as fireworks, scattering sparks all around and sending out a billow of blue smoke, completely concealing Jack and Kerry.

"Go for it!" Jack swung on the rope, letting his momentum carry him back first, then forward. When he got to within a yard of the top of the great pillar, he gritted his teeth and let go, trusting to the day's practice. It was a long, long way to fall. His fingers found the cross-beam and he clambered onto it. In a second, Kerry was behind him. Across the hall, they saw Tig and Tag reach the same height on the opposite pillar, clambering like squirrels up the ladder of blades. Both acrobats gave them a cheery wave and disappeared into the shadows.

Below them, Brand piped three shrill notes on the pipes. Jack saw the knotted end of the rope vanish as the line simply fell in a heap to the floor far below.

The men at the table applauded. Even Dermott was impressed.

"Clever. Clever indeed." He turned to Fainn who glowered thoughtfully beside the great cauldron.

"Almost as good as your Pictish magic, would you say?"

"Tricks and sleight of hand," Fainn growled. "Fairground games for farmers."

He rose to his feet and strode to the centre of the hall. He picked up the limp rope, testing it in his hand, then looked askance at Brand, who smiled innocently at him.

"Smoke and mirrors," he hissed. "Nothing more."

"As you say, my Lord," Brand replied, politely. "We are just a travelling band of entertainers and jugglers. Our japes are no magic."

Fainn seemed to shrink back into the shade of his hood. He raised his carved staff.

"But there is something here. I smell it."

"Enjoy the show, Spellbinder," Dermott bawled. "It's a day for feasting."

Fainn pretended not to hear. He sniffed at the air, eyes scanning left and right. Thin Doolan and Natterjack edged out from the crowd.

"I smell treachery," Fainn hissed. "It reeks like carrion."

He brought his staff down, pointed the carved snake-heads into Brand's face. "Mischief.

Mischief and ill-will."

He gestured with one thin hand and the staff came to sudden life. Brand took a step back as two snakes uncoiled from each other, tongues flickering, eyes gleaming with toxic ferocity.

From the crowded long-table, a collective gasp shuddered round the hall.

* * *

High above, hidden by the coloured smoke, they could see Corriwen clearly. Jack put a finger to his lips, then he edged across the beam with Kerry close behind.

"Have you got it?"

"Sure I have."

"Then blow it up."

Jack continued, step by step until he was within two yards of the suspended cage. Behind him he could hear Kerry huffing and puffing. He closed his eyes, took a slow breath as he counted to three, and then made the leap across space and caught the bars.

"Hey Corriwen," he managed to say, more out of relief than anything else. "Fancy meeting you here!"

"I waited for you," she snapped back. "And you never came."

For a second Jack was completely taken aback. Then her face broke into the widest, happiest smile he had ever seen and she grabbed him through the bars and held him so tightly his eyes watered. It wasn't just the embrace that brought the tears.

"But I always knew you would, Jack Flint."

"Shhhh! We have to get you out of here." Still clinging to the bars with one hand, he drew out a metal hook Brand had given him, slipped it into the latch and opened the gate.

"Now we have to swing this a bit. Get us closer to the beam."

Kerry gestured urgently at them. "Come on!" In one hand he held a life-sized dummy, complete with a mop of red hair, that Natterjack had sewn together from sheep bladders. Kerry's face was still red from the effort of inflating it. He threw it across and Jack stashed it in the cage. From down below, no-one would tell the difference.

Together he and Corriwen used their weight to swing the cage until they were close enough for her to leap out. Kerry caught her with both hands and held her tight.

"Missed you like crazy, so we did," he said. "We've been hunting all over."

Jack landed beside them. "Break it up, you two. We have to get moving."

"What about Connor?"

"Who's Connor?"

Corriwen pointed at the next cage. A ragged boy was up at the bars watching everything. They could see his twisted leg.

"He's a friend of mine. We travelled together."

"He'll slow us down," Kerry said. "We came for you."

"I said he is a friend."

Kerry looked the boy up and down. "Doesn't look like much to me."

"We fought together," Corriwen retorted. "He tried to save me."

Jack looked at Kerry. This hadn't been part of the plan, and speed was of the essence.

"We don't need extra baggage," Kerry insisted.

"Don't be an ass," Jack hissed. "Let him come."

"Dermott will hunt him and kill him," Corriwen said very quietly. "He goes or I stay. It is my honour. He is a friend."

"Okay," Kerry said. "I never knew he was a friend. I take it all back. Let's get him out."

Corriwen smiled and kissed him hard on the cheek. Kerry's ears went bright red.

Jack turned on the beam, leapt the gap and landed on the side of the cage. He pressed against the bars.

"You'll be Connor."

"I'll be the late Connor by tomorrow."

"So let's make today count." He looked at the twisted leg. "Can you jump."

"Watch me," Connor said. "To get out of this, I'll fly like a bird."

"First, we need another decoy." Jack said. He tugged at the boy's tattered cape. "You don't need this."

"Whatever you say," he replied. "It's only a few holes joined together."

He unclipped a circular brooch-pin and let the cape fall in a heap. From down there it might just be convincing enough to give them time

Together they swung the cage close enough. Jack held him by the arm and made the leap effortlessly. Connor's one good foot reached the beam, but his crippled leg caught the edge and he began to fall backwards, arms pinwheeling for balance.

Kerry leapt forward and snatched him by the front of his tattered tunic and held him firm. He drew him back upright until they stood together on the high beam.

"Beholden to you," the boy said. He glanced down. "I'd have been Connor stew for sure."

"More like hamburger," Kerry said. "Raw."

"Come on," Jack said. "Let's get out of here before the smoke clears."

It took them twenty seconds, hand in hand, across the narrow beam, to reach the port where it dug into the wall. There was enough space to crawl through under the eaves and onto the slate roof.

"Fresh air," Connor took a big breath. "I feel like a smoked ham."

"You smell like one too," Kerry said.

They scrambled down the roof and made their way to a small tower with a narrow window. Inside, Jack closed his eyes, trying to remember the layout Brand had described to him, then led them together up a narrow winding staircase.

Two doors faced them, left and right.

"Which one?" Kerry whispered. Jack still clung to Corriwen's hand, as if he was scared to let her go again. Inside he was so relieved at finding her again, yet he was also very apprehensive in case they were caught before they made it out of this place.

Think! He told himself. But in the excitement of the past few minutes, he couldn't remember.

"Oh, just try one of them," Kerry insisted. He reached beyond Jack, snatched the handle and opened the door.

A table stretched in front of them, old and knotted, and intricately carved with mountains and roads and rivers in stark relief. Beyond it, a pit of fire belched oily smoke that completely obscured the ceiling the way Brand's diversion had hidden them in the great hall.

"That's Eirinn," Connor said. "It's the whole land, carved into wood."

"I don't like this place," Kerry said. He sniffed the air. "It's like that place we were in. the Black Barrow. It smells really bad."

The heartstone hammered against Jack's skin.

Jack pulled Corriwen's hand and they turned back. Kerry closed the door, glad to be out of there. The other door led upwards until they found themselves in a dark passageway. Jack closed his eyes, found his sense of direction, and urged them on.

They had just reached the end of the passageway when the ragged boy held up a hand.

"Someone's coming!"

Jack had heard nothing. But Connor's face was pale in the gloom, and Jack could tell by his tone that they were in trouble. He quickly turned back and they followed him at a run, until they came to an opening they had passed, ducked inside, and found themselves in complete darkness.

"It's Fainn," Connor whispered. "I know his step."

They held their breath, still as mice. The heartstone thudded hard and strong. Jack clamped a hand over it and felt it pulse in his grasp. Now he heard someone approaching.

Someone paused at the opening. They heard a snuffle, like a hound on the scent before then the footsteps resumed and slowly faded. Jack stepped out into the passage, drawing Corriwen after him.

Something lunged at him. He leapt so fast that Corriwen was dragged with him and they they landed in a sprawl.

"Snake!"

Connor darted forward, snatched it by the tail and spun it around his neck, then suddenly slashed his hand down. There was a faint crack and the snake's head snapped clean off. It slammed against the wall in a splatter of venom.

"Got to be fast for snakes," he muttered. Kerry was behind him, still in the dark. Something else slithered against his foot and he stumbled, barging against Connor. He felt a stab of faint pain in his ankle, and then his whole leg went numb. A sinuous shape slithered off into the shadows. Connor caught Kerry under the armpit as he lurched.

Together they hobbled after Jack and Corriwen, Connor on his good leg helping Kerry along.

"Did it get you?"

"Don't know. I might have just pulled a muscle," Kerry said through clenched teeth.

Along the passage a door slammed and a man's voice roared a curse.

"Big trouble," Connor gasped. "Time to hurry."

Jack and Corrie reached the far end of the passage and now he had his bearings. It opened onto a balcony that led round a battlemented wall, and there was no guard here. High above them the wolf-head flag whipped in the wind. Ahead was the outer wall. All they had to do was cat-walk across a narrow buttress that joined the inner and outer walls, keeping close to the stone, and staying low.

A fast movement close on their left made Jack's heart leap and he shrank back until he saw Tig and Tag somersault over the battlements. Brand's bottomless bag was strapped to Tag's back. They landed silently beside the four fugitives.

"Ready?"

"I think so," Jack said. He turned to Kerry. His face was ashen and screwed in a grimace of pain.

"Are you okay?"

"Hurts," Kerry groaned. "Burning…" His knee began to buckle. Sweat trickled down his forehead. Connor caught him before he fell.

"He's been bitten," he said. "I'm sure of it."

"Help him to the wall," Jack said, thinking quickly. "I'll be back soon. If we're running, get him out fast."

He beckoned to Corrie. "I need your help. Kerry can't do this."

Despite her puzzled look, she nodded and they followed the twins back through the window and up the spiral stairs to the top of the tower. The metal tool that Brand had made was just as efficient here and Jack opened the door in a minute.

The harp stood on a pedestal. Even though the shutters were bolted, its gold surface gleamed with a light of its own. It was beautiful, perfectly wrought in every way except one.

All its strings had been slashed.

Jack took its weight and for an instant the heartstone let out a clear, single note. Even with its strings cut, he could feel the latent power of the golden harp in his hands.

"Be swift, Jackflint," Tig urged. Tag opened Brand's bag wide and he lowered it inside. She snapped it shut and handed it to him. It weighed next to nothing, as if it was as empty as before. They moved to the doorway and stopped. Below them, another cry echoed up. Someone was coming.

"The window!" Corriwen eased the bolt back and daylight flooded in.

"It's a long way down," she began to say, but Tig was already over the sill, Tag close behind.

"Climb on us," Tag said as she dropped. Corriwen clambered out and saw the twins had formed a human ladder. Jack lowered himself until he swung below them and Corriwen climbed down all three until her feet reached a ledge. Above them, a head loomed through the vent and a man cursed. Corriwen edged on the ledge to the next vent, pushed it open and climbed inside.

A bulky figure came clattering down the stairs. Instinctively Corriwen crouched as the man rushed round the corner. Not expecting to find anything in his way, he tripped over her, tumbled ten feet and hit the wall with a crunch and lay still.

They raced past him and onto the roof, while angry cries echoed from the walls. Connor was huddled out of sight, holding Kerry tight.

Jack leaned over the battlements. The chasm below shadowed and sheer as it dropped to jagged rocks.

Tig produced a rope, tied one end to a pennant-post and hurled the other over the wall. Thin Doolan, on the far side of the chasm, caught the end and fixed it to a wagon-wheel.

Tig bowed. Tag did the same. Then in sinuous display of acrobatics, they went swinging down the rope.

"It's a long way down," Connor said. "And I'm not half so nimble."

Jack used the leather cuff Brand had given him, tied it firmly around Kerry's limp wrists and they sent him sliding down the rope. Corriwen followed, then Connor. Jack closed his eyes, banishing the image of fearsome rocks below as he zoomed earthwards over the chasm to land with a thump. Then they were running for the wagons.

On the battlements, men were shouting orders. Brand skipped across the drawbridge, hat in hand, but there was no sign of Score Four-arm. As soon as Brand's feet were on solid ground, the drawbridge creaked and the ropes strained as it lifted up and began to swing closed.

"Open the gate!" Dermott's voice ripped the air. "Open the gate, damn your eyes."

Then Score came scrambling over the battlement and clambered down the wall, head first, all arms and legs.

Close to the moat, Jack saw Natterjack draw deep breaths, and as he did, his squat body expanded so fast that in seconds he resembled a warty beach ball.

Score launched himself from half-way down the wall, right across the chasm, and hit Natterjack so hard the squat fellow bounced. All the air came out in a rush and he shrank back to his previous size.

Score helped him to his feet, as a volley of arrows came arcing over the top wall.

"Obliged for a soft landing, friend," Score said. He heaved Natterjack along behind him, leapt on to the buckboard, and they were off and out of range in moments.

"I jammed the gate," he told Jack. "It'll hold them for a while, but not for long. Just now they'll be trying to pull their swords from the pillar, and that won't be an easy task, for I dug them deep. But they'll be after us soon enough."

"These ponies don't have the speed," Corriwen said.

"Aye, maybe. But we liberated a couple of Dermott's mounts."

He jerked his thumb behind him and they all turned to see two huge black horses hitched to the back of the wagon.

"Just in case we need a bit of speed," Score said. "You can't get better than Dermott's stable."

Behind them Wolfen Castle was in uproar.

Ahead of them lay the open road.

Corriwen put her arms around Kerry and helped him to his feet.

"Together again at last," she said. "I've waited so long for this."