The Bonehill Curse (16 page)

‘Are you all right, Ness?’ Morris spluttered.

‘Never better, why?’ Ness grinned, still catching her breath.

‘What did you do?’ Azuli said, staring at the carpet warily.

‘Just showed it who’s boss, that’s all,’ she said, putting her hands on her hips. ‘Now, these papers of my father’s, where are they?’

All afternoon, they pored over the dusty documents that lay scattered on the floor – diaries, scrolls from ancient civilisations, maps – but nothing told them more than they already knew.

‘The bloodstone,’ Ness whispered, holding up an illustration torn from some long-forgotten book. The picture showed a hooded figure holding a glowing red stone above his head. Strange, horned creatures – half man, half beast – seemed to be being sucked into the stone in the figure’s hand.

‘The what?’ Azuli said, pulling a face.

‘The bloodstone,’ Scrabsnitch murmured. ‘A legendary gem that is said to be capable of finding spirits or demons, even unfortunate mortal souls. It is said that with the right incantation a bloodstone can imprison anything. Anthony became obsessed with finding it after Grossford took the bottle away. He searched for it for years.’

‘I remember it from home,’ Ness whispered, staring intently at the picture. ‘He had a bloodstone set into a ring. Is it valuable?’

‘Only to those who know how to use it. It’s a mere bauble otherwise,’ Scrabsnitch replied, running his gnarled fingers through his frizzy grey hair. ‘I never heard of him trying to catch a demon with it. Maybe he thought it would protect him against the possible return of the djinn.’

Ness found her thoughts drawn back to her father’s study. The ring lying on the desk. His voice booming in her mind.
‘Take it, try it on
.
You love the bloodstone, don’t you? It’s beautiful. One day it will be all yours.’

‘It doesn’t seem to have helped him,’ Morris grunted, snapping Ness from her daydream. He sat some distance away, polishing the blunderbuss and oiling the firing mechanism. He jumped up, staring at the floor as his feet scrunched through broken glass.

‘No.’ Scrabsnitch shook his head. ‘If Anthony had bound the djinn into the ring then your father would be here now. I do hope Anthony and Eliza are all right.’

‘So do I,’ Ness murmured.

‘What’s this, Scrabsnitch?’ Morris said, scooping up a handful of shining metal from the debris on the floor.

‘Do you want the truth?’ Scrabsnitch reddened a little. ‘It was labelled as part of a hoard of Druid silver but it’s actually just some melted sixpences.’

‘But silver, yes?’ Morris grunted.

Scrabsnitch nodded and Morris poured it into the barrel of the blunderbuss.

‘This is useless,’ Azuli groaned, slapping a map down on the floor. The flying carpet bucked and rippled at the noise. ‘We don’t even know what we’re looking for!’

‘Anything that might give us a clue as to how to destroy this djinn,’ Ness said, whistling through her teeth with frustration.

‘Is this silver?’ Morris muttered, showing another handful of metal to Scrabsnitch, who looked shamefaced and shook his head. Morris cursed and threw it down.

‘The sword,’ Azuli muttered, rubbing his face. ‘That was the only hope. And I lost it.’

Morris sat some distance away, making no comment as he laboriously scraped at the metal he had retrieved before.

‘Where do the djinns come from, Mr Scrabsnitch?’ Ness asked.

‘According to ancient wisdom, they are creations of God, just like men,’ Scrabsnitch said, stroking his beard. ‘But djinns are creatures of powerful magic. God is said to have made them first, before Adam. Some say that they lived in the Garden of Eden before mankind.’ The old man paused and rummaged through a pile of scrolls until he found a particular one and passed it to Ness.

‘
A djinn can choose his way
,’ she read aloud. ‘
He can worship God or Satan, himself or nobody. The djinns are powerful but can be bound to vessels and objects by trickery or obligation
. What does that mean?’

Scrabsnitch shrugged. ‘Sometimes a djinn can be arrogant or ignorant and will enter a magic vessel just to prove it can or because it doesn’t know the danger. Or it can be bound if it feels it has to save a loved one or because it
should
obey.’

‘How could we trick Zaakiel?’ Ness wondered aloud.

‘Zaakiel is very old,’ Azuli said from the shadows of the shop. ‘He would not be tricked easily and he has no love for any living thing.’

‘A-ha!’ Scrabsnitch shouted, making Ness jump. ‘That’s it! Necessity, you are a genius.’

‘I am?’

‘Yes.’ Scrabsnitch beamed, holding open a thick book with heavy, yellowed pages. ‘When you asked where the djinns come from, it awakened a memory. A memory of a place.’

‘A place?’ Azuli frowned, drawn back to them by the outburst.

‘The oldest of places, the only remaining part of the original garden,’ explained Scrabsnitch. ‘The place where all things were first made. The Oasis of the Amarant.’

‘The Amarant?’ Azuli said. ‘What is that?’

‘A mythical bloom full of power and tragedy,’ Scrabsnitch said, scanning the pages of the book. ‘It was fed by waters from the Pool of Life.’

‘How will this Amarant help us?’ Ness said, confused.

‘The Amarant is long gone but the Pool of Life remains deep within the oasis,’ Scrabsnitch said, pointing to a page. ‘It is said to give all the answers a seeker would need about his life. But the pool is guarded. Only the brave need go there.’

‘And do you know for certain that this oasis exists?’ Azuli said, frowning.

‘Some colleagues of mine went there many years ago,’ Scrabsnitch said. ‘I still have the maps.’

‘Could they guide us there again?’ Ness said.

Scrabsnitch shook his head slowly. ‘Alas, no,’ he sighed. ‘Their contact with the oasis did not end well.’

‘Marvellous,’ Azuli groaned. ‘And I assume that the oasis isn’t in this country?’

Scrabsnitch was on the move again, scrabbling through cupboards and throwing papers right and left as he searched. Finally he pulled a map from the back of an old chest.

‘No, it’s in Abyssinia,’ he said, his face lighting up. ‘Here is Mortlock’s map.’

‘Mortlock?’ Ness frowned. ‘One of your old friends?’

‘You’ve missed one thing, Mr Scrabsnitch,’ Azuli said, shaking his head. ‘It would take us weeks, months even, to get there.’

Scrabsnitch caught Ness’s eye, then looked sidelong at the flying carpet, flicking its corners and rippling waspishly. He held out the map. ‘You could be there and back in no time at all. What an uncanny piece of luck that Azuli freed the carpet.’

‘I think your luck just ran out,’ hissed a voice from the shattered windows.

A cloud of noxious, green mist boiled into the emporium, solidifying into the form of a much more robust djinn. Ness’s mouth felt dry and she swallowed hard. Zaakiel’s wrist stump still bled but muscles now rippled under his leprous skin. His topknot of hair swung over his shoulder. His manic grin still split his skeletal face.

‘I knew you’d come eventually,’ Scrabsnitch sighed. ‘But I’m not quite as resigned to dying as I was, having met these lovely young people.’

Azuli lurched forward, slashing with his sword. It passed through Zaakiel as if he were made of smoke.

‘Hmm, a miraculous recovery, little boy. You want to be careful with sharp blades,’ Zaakiel smirked, shaking his gory wrist stump, ‘or you’ll have someone’s arm off – but not with that toothpick.’

He swung his good hand, sending Azuli crashing back into the wrecked armchair.

‘Well, try this for size. Each piece of silver has a little Z carved on it in your honour,’ Morris said, stepping from behind a suit of armour, firing the blunderbuss at Zaakiel at almost point-blank range.

The enormous, roaring explosion filled the emporium and Morris was lifted off his feet. The djinn was lost in a hail of silver. With a howl of anguish, he spiralled up into the room and crashed through the ceiling, bloody furrows carving his face and body. Plaster and splinters of wood came crashing down from the hole he left.

‘If you’re going to get that carpet moving, Ness, you’d better do it now,’ Morris yelled, pouring more gunpowder down the barrel and stuffing some wadding and then more shards of silver after it.

‘But I can’t leave you,’ Ness argued.

‘You can do more good by going to the oasis,’ Scrabsnitch snapped. ‘D’you want to die here or stop the djinn?’

‘We can keep him occupied here.’ Morris grinned. A trickle of blood oozed down his brow. ‘If we can, we’ll join the Lashkars. Old Zaakiel here will be picking shrapnel from his backside for a week!’

At the mention of his name, the djinn came howling back from above. Morris pursed his lips, his moustache bristling, and squeezed the trigger again. Once more the deafening bang made Ness’s ears ring. And once more Zaakiel screamed his rage. The blast sent him across the shop, crashing into a huge stuffed grizzly bear. Shards of silver poked from the djinn’s body, sizzling where they had embedded themselves.

Snatching the map from Scrabsnitch, Ness tucked it into the waistband of her trousers and jumped on to the carpet, which shivered and skipped about. She untied the rope and the carpet began to rise.

‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ Ness cried as she floated higher above their heads.

‘Wait!’ Azuli picked himself up, bounded on to a squat display cabinet, jumped up the side of a tumbled-down cupboard and leapt on to the back of the carpet. The carpet jerked, nearly dislodging Ness. The carpet flew out of the emporium and up into the darkening sky.

Ness bit her lip as another thunderous boom echoed below, then they slipped high above the sounds of London, leaving Morris and Scrabsnitch to their fate.

Part the Third

The Oasis of the Amarant

She who wishes to travel far spares her steed.

T
raditional proverb

Chapter Twenty-two

S
ky
V
oyage

The carpet hurtled skyward until London became indistinct and the air smelt sweet then became very thin. Ness shook her head. Azuli lay on the back of the carpet, face down, his knuckles white from holding on to the edges.

‘Down,’ Ness gasped, scraping her nails into the fibres of the rug. ‘I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not on! Down, now!’

The carpet pointed nose first and flew down, forcing Ness to lean back against Azuli. She could feel his weight pushing her off the carpet. His constant screams of terror didn’t help either.

‘If you carry on like this,’ Ness yelled at the carpet, yanking the edges cruelly, ‘then I’ll land you in a volcano and you can burn for all I care!’

The carpet levelled out, giving a surly flick every now and then. Azuli scrambled behind Ness and sat up, still gripping the edges tight. The freezing wind battered her face and tore the cap from her head. Ness tried to pull the map from her waistband. It flapped about in her hands, then blew away completely.

‘Hold on,’ Ness yelled and tugged on the carpet’s edge, forcing it to double back.

The map danced madly in the wind but Ness forced the carpet towards it until it fluttered above their heads.

‘Grab it,’ Ness called to Azuli, but he was frozen to the carpet.

Ness flailed one hand out and snagged the map just as the carpet sensed its chance. She gave a scream as the carpet flipped to the left, sending her off the edge and dangling on by one aching arm. Azuli stared at her in terror, his fingers firmly wrapped around the edge as the carpet twisted and turned. Ness thought her arm would come out of its socket and her head felt like a sack full of iron as it was dragged back with the velocity.

‘Right, that’s it,’ she snarled, releasing the map to its fate. She slapped her flailing hand back on to the carpet, twisting her fingers into the weave once more. Another desperate heave brought her back on top of the carpet but not before she’d managed to kick Azuli on the nose.

Ness ground her teeth and rage boiled in her stomach as she drove the carpet straight towards the ground. The landscape became more open, with fields and trees. Then hedgerows and a few branches were visible. Then individual tree trunks.

‘Ness! What are you doing?’ Azuli screamed.

‘Calling its bluff!’ Ness yelled back.

The ground came rushing towards them. Ness could feel the wind slapping her face. Azuli’s horrified scream deafened her. The carpet tried to veer upward again. Clearly it didn’t want to hit the ground any more than she did. At the last moment, Ness dragged the carpet upward, long stems of grass whipping at them as they grazed the earth.

‘If you want to crash,’ Ness snapped at the carpet, ‘just let me know. I’ll arrange it. Now, I reckon you know where we’re going. Take us to the Oasis of the Amarant!’

‘You’re mad,’ Azuli said, laughing, sobbing and trying to suck in huge mouthfuls of air all at once.

‘Barking.’ Ness grinned back, wild-eyed.