The Keeper (16 page)

Antimony and Stephen couldn't have picked a better book if they'd tried.
Savage Swamps
was not used to many visitors, so the giant mosquitos and snapping swamp-weed that lived in the book were excited to have three teenagers drop in.

‘Let me go!' Lysander shouted, but the enthusiastic elephant that had gripped his legs didn't seem to hear. He swung him through the mud like a pendulum, making it rather difficult for Lysander to maintain a superior expression. Meanwhile, an excited alligator was munching on the tails of Ben's blazer and a cluster of vines was having great fun dipping Raqib in and out of the swamp like a yo-yo.

Antimony and Stephen were bumping fists when a stream of mud gushed towards them. The elephant had dropped Lysander and was happily shooting its trunkful of muddy water in every direction. Any of the Wrens who had been trying to read got soaked and found themselves involved in the water fight whether they wanted to be or not.

In only a few seconds, the library floor was chaos. Lysander flicked his tie through the air and sent the entire magical mud section of the library crashing to the floor. Raqib dropped some of his silver spice into the swamp and it gushed up like a geyser, showering everybody with sparkling mud. Antimony leapt on top of the table beside Stephen, helping him to launch mudballs towards the Quints.

‘STOP!'

For a seventeen-year-old, Cassandra Quicksilver's voice had a lot of power.

Everybody stopped to look up. Cassandra was leaning over the balcony on the twelfth floor, appalled. She swished her scarf through the air and sent a team of blank books to mop up the mess and herd the inhabitants of the swamp home.

‘I cannot believe the lot of you,' Cassandra said, glaring at her fellow Quints when she reached the ground floor. ‘You know all the druids are meeting about the plans for Lughnasa. Quints are supposed to guide the younger Wrens, not attack them. Especially when we have important work to do.'

Lysander started to protest but Cassandra was not in a listening mood. She looked at Antimony and Stephen suspiciously.

‘And I would think
you
have better things to be doing,' she said to Stephen, before swishing her scarf around her neck and striding back to the glass lift.

Even through the layers of mud on his face, Antimony could see Stephen's blush.

‘Don't mind her,' she said, drying herself off with a book about magic towels. ‘I don't know why she has to interfere. And what was she doing up on the twelfth floor anyway? All of those Quints are up to something.'

Antimony stopped herself. She had forgotten that she was trying not to be too friendly with Stephen. This was the danger, she warned herself, getting too close to the people she had to betray. It was bad enough becoming friends with Oisín without forming an alliance with his brother too, mudballs or no mudballs.

‘I thought you were one of them,' Stephen said after a moment.

‘I'm not a Quint,' Antimony snorted.

‘But your parents were.'

Antimony caught her breath, seeing the book that lay on the desk in front of Stephen:
The Infamous Ogonis: Traitors or Trailblazers?

‘My parents were Quints,' she said finally. And it was probably Quints who killed them. I only care about the kind of magic that burns.'

She turned and walked away. Something was swelling in her eyes and the last thing she wanted was to add to Deirdre of the Sorrows' book.

Antimony went up to her cabin and flopped onto her hammock. So Stephen had found out what most of the other Wrens already knew: Antimony's parents had been among the most powerful practitioners of Quintessence in Nigeria. Stephen would have read all about her story: the potion that her mother was brewing, so secret that nobody else knew its name. The secret society her parents were part of. The day they were branded traitors and decided to run away. That same night, a figure in a shadowy cloak arriving at their house before they could escape. The terrible smell of fire as it burnt away everything that Antimony had ever known …

Antimony wasn't sure the figure in a cloak was a Quint. It had been too dark to see if it had been a man or a woman, or even to tell if it was an adult. There was only one way of finding out for sure, only one way of getting revenge.

Antimony went up to her cabin and got the ingredients for
béal tine
ready. She would have to act soon. Before she knew it, her dragon was puffing out the hours as everybody else went to sleep. Ten … eleven … midnight.

Antimony didn't think about Stephen or Oisín or Sorcha. She thought of her parents, the last time she'd seen them, as fire curled up their house and a shadowy figure ran away.

She crept out of her hammock, picked up her bag with the
béal tine
in it and walked towards the library.

Chapter 19

Lughnasa

N
OBODY had told the sun that it was going to be a very serious day. It had stretched out early in the morning and beamed across the summer sky with not a single cloud to spoil its mood. Even the grey landscape around the fire-fields looked beautiful in its light. Oisín thought it was odd that the day could be so fine and his stomach could feel so sick. He felt as if he was taking a test but he didn't even know what questions he was supposed to be answering.

Then, as he was going to breakfast, he really felt sick.

‘What's wrong?' Tom asked.

Oisín had stopped moving in the middle of the corridor, obstructing the Wrens who were eager for their torched eggs.

‘The Book of Magic is gone,' he managed to say.

He wasn't sure how he knew. But he could feel its absence from
Eachtra
, as if an elastic band had connected him to the Book and it had snapped. Since the night in the Forest of Shadows, Oisín had felt distant from the Book, hadn't trusted it entirely. Now that it was gone, Oisín felt horribly abandoned. He turned into the stream of people, setting off for the library. He was sure that the drawer would be empty, but he was equally sure that he had to check. Tom dashed after him, apologising to the Wrens that Oisín ran into.

The library was eerily empty. Caoimhe was checking out
Ashgrass Maintenance for Beginners
, a smouldering volume that looked almost as unpleasant as ashgrass itself. Oisín bolted up the spiral staircase, not stopping until the twelfth floor. It was as quiet as Christmas Eve.

Oisín stopped running and walked slowly to the chestnut drawer which had held the Book of Magic. It was empty.

Oisín gripped the cabinet for support. There was a part of him that had to get the Book of Magic back, an ache in his palm where it should fit.

‘It's mine,' he whispered to himself. He hoped the Book would come flying back into his hands, but he wasn't surprised when it didn't. It had already gone too far from him.

Oisín stood up and inspected the drawer. The handle had scorch marks around it: somebody had used Fire Magic to open the cabinet. From the look of the burn, it had been several hours ago. Why hadn't he felt a pang as soon as the Book had been taken?

‘Dark magic,' Tom said, climbing up the stairs and sensing the shift in the air. ‘The Morrígan used very dark magic here.'

‘I don't think it was the Morrígan,' Caoimhe said, coming up the stairs behind him.

Tom and Oisín stared at her. Caoimhe hesitated, unsure if she could believe what she was saying herself.

‘Antimony didn't sleep in her hammock last night. I can't find her anywhere.'

‘No way did Antimony do this,' Tom said, turning to Oisín for support.

But Oisín was looking at the scorch marks on the drawer and thinking about how eager Antimony had been to save the Book from the snow-snakes.

‘Come on,' Tom said as he saw Oisín's face. ‘Antimony might be a bit of a pain sometimes but she'd never do something like this. She wouldn't even be able to if she wanted.'

‘She has
béal tine
,' Caoimhe said quietly. ‘I saw it in her bag once. It's the only way she could have taken the Book from its Keeper.'

‘You knew Antimony had dark magic and you didn't tell anybody?' Tom spluttered. ‘I'm the eldest, you should really –'

‘Oh stop,' Caoimhe said. ‘I thought she kept it because it reminded her of her parents. I didn't think she'd use it.'

‘Where's she gone?' Tom said.

‘
Cnoc na gCnámh!
' Oisín said suddenly. He had no idea why Antimony would want to go there, but he knew that was where the Book was. Perhaps the
béal tine
was fading. He could feel a small connection to the Book, could sense it miles and miles away.

The three children stood in silence. They couldn't believe that Antimony had stolen the Book of Magic and gone to Cnoc na gCnámh. Oisín didn't know what to do: how was he going to rescue Sorcha when he didn't have the Book to bargain with?

A scream from the ground floor broke the silence. The children rushed to the balcony to see Noreen Moriarty below, waving her arms like a windmill.

‘Ravens are attacking
Eachtra!
' she squealed, diving into a copy of
Amniotic Aqua
for cover.

Oisín looked out the library's large stained-glass window and saw that she was right. Dark shapes swooped across, heading for
Eachtra
's deck.

‘The Morrígan's creating a diversion,' Oisín said. ‘She wants to keep the druids busy here while she gets the Book off Antimony.'

‘Maybe Antimony's the Morrígan,' Tom said, as if nothing could surprise him at this stage.

‘No, the Morrígan attacked the two of us in the Underwater Caves,' Oisín said. ‘She must have known what Antimony was up to.'

He looked at the ravens streaming by the window. It wouldn't be long before they reached the library. They had to do something.

‘We've got to find the Keeper,' Oisín said, searching for the thread of her cardigan.

‘She's gone to the Quintessence section,' Caoimhe said. ‘I bumped into her this morning. One of the Quints told her that
The Beauty of Black Holes
had gone missing.'

Oisín frowned. It was just like the Keeper of Books to get sidetracked on a wild book chase.

‘Which Quint told her that?' he asked. It seemed rather suspicious that one of them would try and get her out of the way like that.

‘She didn't say,' Caoimhe responded. ‘We could get Mrs Fitzfeather or Madame Q?'

‘Do you trust any of the druids here?' Tom said. ‘We'll have to do this ourselves. Are you sure Antimony went to Cnoc na gCnámh?'

‘I'm certain,' Oisín said, though he couldn't explain why he was so sure.

Tom sighed. ‘I wish we still had Mum's air bicycle.'

‘There's no way that would make it to Cnoc na gCnámh,' Caoimhe said. ‘The druids must know of some secret passage, but I'm not sure how we'll find it in time.'

‘There's one other way,' Oisín said slowly, finding the courage to say the words.

‘Droichead an Chlaímh.'

Tom and Caoimhe looked at each other.

‘You don't have to come,' Oisín said.

Tom took a deep breath, as if he couldn't believe what he was about to say.

‘Our sister's there too now. Whatever she's done, we can't leave her to the Morrígan. I'm coming.'

‘Me too,' Caoimhe added.

Oisín thought that he should probably tell them not to come, but he felt so happy they were coming that he didn't say anything. It also wasn't the best time to have an argument: several ravens had just made their way into the library and were flying towards them. Luckily,
Ashgrass Maintenance for Beginners
proved to be a useful deterrent. After a couple of ravens had got stinging smoke in their eyes, the others steered clear of the book and the people around it and they managed to make their way onto the deck.

Eachtra's
deck was another level of chaos. Ravens were everywhere, pulling and pecking at the sheets and umbrellas. Meanwhile, the wooden wrens had sprung to life to defend
Eachtra
, and Angus Óg had rounded up a flock of swans to help. Scathach was beside him, swirling her smoking sword and using
Eachtra's
frying pans to launch fireballs into the sky. Oisín thought he saw Mrs Fitzfeather pulling her shawls around her and running away from the fray, but he was too busy making his way through the chaos to worry about where she was going.

Once they had reached Droichead an Chlaímh, Oisín didn't have time to think about anything else. He took a step towards the slender sword-bridge. It was even more terrifying up close.

‘Well, go on, Tom,' Caoimhe said. ‘Age before beauty and all that.'

‘I've always said you were very wise for your years,' Tom said nervously.

‘It'll be grand,' Oisín said, struggling to sound convincing.

‘You're right,' Caoimhe said. ‘We'll just do what Scathach says: empty our minds. And don't touch the blade. Or stay still too long – the metal will be hot from the volcano below. And most of all, don't think about looking down.'

Tom peered over the cliff and looked at the lava. Like any fire, it was mesmerising and terrifying at the same time.

‘What if it erupts?' he asked.

‘Another thing not to think about.'

‘All right, let's go,' Oisín said, taking a breath and raising his foot.

‘Wait!'

Stephen was running towards them, An Freagarach at his side. ‘Out of the way, kiddies,' he barked, ‘I'm going to cross this for real.'

‘So are we,' Oisín said, fire flushing to his face.

‘Look, Shortsquirt, I'm not going to have you messing up my plan.'

Stephen gripped his sword, making all too clear what his plan was.

‘Wait, look,' Oisín said, opening his mouth wide and pointing towards Cnoc na gCnámh.

Stephen craned his neck around. In that second, Oisín had slipped under his arm and clambered onto Droichead an Chlaímh. He started to walk before Stephen could stop him.

Oisín blanked out the string of curses Stephen shouted after him, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. After a few steps, he realised with a shock that Caoimhe had already stepped onto the bridge while they had been arguing. She was walking ahead, going as fast as she could: the metal surface was hot, so the best thing to do was keep moving.

Oisín kept his runners on either side of the sharp middle, holding his arms out for balance. It was surprisingly easy once he got the hang of it. He just imagined he was walking on a slightly sloped wall. He always leapt up on the park wall when he walked home from school, and really this was no different.

Apart from the bubbling volcano below.

As soon as Oisín stopped to look down, he froze. The chasm yawned below him, achingly big. He could feel the steam rising up, smoky fingers waiting to drag him down. He stared at the hypnotic fire, which seemed to reach hungrily towards him.

‘Look at
me.
' It was Caoimhe. She had reached the other side and was standing at the bottom of Cnoc na gCnámh. ‘Come on, it's not far. Look at me!'

Oisín tried to raise his head to her but his whole body felt dizzy. He could feel his feet slowly slipping.

‘Look at me,' Caoimhe repeated.

Oisín met her eyes.

‘You can do it.'

Oisín put a foot forward. He felt Droichead an Chlaímh sway under him, felt the steam curling up towards him. He couldn't do it.

Of course you can't
, a voice said in his brain. It sounded sweet and sharp at the same time, velvet covering steel.
You can't do anything. You're not as good as your brother. You can only do magic because of the Book. You're nothing
.

‘Oisín!'

Oisín started. He pulled his feet from the edge and swivelled around. Tom had stepped onto Droichead an Chlaímh.

‘Oisín, keep going,' he called encouragingly, swaying his arms as he stumbled forward. ‘I don't think I can stop and I don't want to run into you.'

‘Yeah, come on, Oisín, you're nearly there!' Caoimhe called.

Oisín felt a strange surge of hope in his chest. Tom and Caoimhe were so foolish, crossing Droichead an Chlaímh when they didn't have to. Just because they wanted to help. Oisín had a warm feeling in his belly. He turned towards Caoimhe and started to walk towards her, looking her in the eye, putting one foot after the other, pretending it was just an ordinary wall in the park. Step after step after step.

‘Thanks,' he gasped as Caoimhe pulled him onto the cold surface of Cnoc na gCnámh. She smiled for a second. Then her face changed.

‘Oh, no,' she said, looking back at Droichead an Chlaímh.

The sky was filling with dark shapes.

‘Ravens! Hurry!' Caoimhe shouted.

She didn't need to tell them. Tom was halfway across but Stephen had just started. They picked up pace. Tom stumbled and fell, and the blade of the sword-bridge cut into his knee. Blood gushed down to the volcano below.

‘Careful!' Oisín screamed.

Watching was almost worse than crossing. If anything happened to them …

The ravens sensed weakness and swooped.

‘Away!'

Stephen swiped An Freagarach through the air. It glinted fearsomely in the sunlight, slicing into a raven as it lunged towards Tom. The raven stopped in midflight and dropped down towards the volcano below, like a stone plopping into a pond.

‘Go on,' Stephen said, brandishing his sword in the air. He sent a few more ravens to a very hot bath, and the rest of them quickly flew away.

He waited until Tom had got to Cnoc na gCnámh before he followed. He strode across the bridge as if it were a footpath. Oisín looked at the figure covered in soot and dirt, determination in his eyes, his sword an extension of his arm: he looked more like a warrior than his brother.

Stephen was three quarters of the way across the bridge when another figure climbed on. It was Brad Washington, standing on top of his skateboard.

‘I'm here to help you guys!' he shouted across.

‘The idiot,' Caoimhe gasped. ‘He can't use his
croíacht
to cross.'

‘That's not his
croíacht
,' Oisín said. ‘It's just an ordinary skateboard.'

‘An ordinary skateboard that's about to smash into Stephen,' Tom said.

It was too late. Brad leapt onto the bridge, keeping his balance as his skateboard whizzed across. He held his arms out and gave a whoop of delight that echoed in the volcano below.

Stephen was far from delighted, though. He tried to break into a run to get to the safety of Cnoc na gCnámh but the bridge was too slippery and the skateboard too fast for him to avoid it.