The Bone Quill (25 page)

Renard dashed to the far side of the vault. Zach followed. Without warning, a prickly sensation at the back of his neck sent odd shivers down his spine. It wasn’t pain as such, more like a brain freeze from eating an ice lolly too fast. His eyes began to water, and his fingers and toes were tingling.

‘It’s the power from the paintings,’ said Renard, catching Zach’s expression. ‘Every Guardian feels a wee bit odd when he’s in the presence of bound artists. I’ve always thought it’s to make sure we remember what’s been done to these men and women, and keeps us from taking the decision to bind anyone lightly.’

His face was pale as he slid to the floor under the Turner and rested his head in his hands. His grief hit Zach like a punch.

‘I’m afraid Matt’s gone,’ Renard said. He indicated the little space between two paintings with a trembling hand – the space that had held Sandie’s copy of
The Demon Within
. ‘And he’s taken Malcolm with him.’

A
s
soon as Matt climbed out of the hole he had animated into the Abbey courtyard and stood up, he could feel the hellhound gargoyles on the ramparts straining against their moorings beneath the security spotlights. Looking up, he saw one stretch its entire body out from its parapet, floating over the darkness. Could it sense what he’d done?

Matt exhaled, forcing his mind to settle. The hellhound hunkered back into its place.

Not for the first time that night, he wished Em was with him.

Ducking under the shadows of the arch that led through Jeannie’s garden and down to the jetty, he tore up his sketches of the statue and his last tunnel.

‘Sorry, Grandpa,’ he mumbled. ‘You too, Zach.’

So far, he felt as if he’d done everything holding his breath, afraid he’d make a mistake and lose his chance.

The wind had picked up, bringing squalls of rain across the bay. Matt fastened his parka and pulled on a black hat. He shoved his hands in his pockets, finding a pair of fingerless gloves and pulling them on.

You’re stalling, Matt Calder
, he thought to himself.

The next part of his plan was the part that scared him most of all. Stealing the painting from the vault had been easy. He had known what to expect and done his research in preparation. To unbind his dad from a painting was another task all together.

To bind someone in a painting called for the combined powers of both Animare and Guardian. It was a safe guess to assume that both were needed to achieve the reverse as well. Matt was starting to doubt he was powerful enough to pull it off on his own.

Stop dwelling on failure. You’re better and stronger than that
, he thought.

He could feel the intensity of the painting throbbing against his back, where it was tucked inside his rucksack. He would succeed. He’d free his dad, and together they would rescue Sandie and Em. Then they could be a family again.

A family.

Pulling the rucksack tighter on his shoulders, Matt jogged down towards the bay.

At the end of the jetty, he unknotted the tether on the Abbey’s rowing boat, climbed aboard and pushed it away from the dock. He pulled his sketchpad from his front pocket. Closing his eyes for a second, concentrating on the lines and the shading of his drawing, he let his imagination and his fingers take over.

A lantern flared into life on the prow of the boat. Grabbing the oars from under the seat, Matt shoved them one at a time through the rowlocks and began to row towards the smaller island of Era Mina.

From
the long tower window, Renard lifted his binoculars, scanning the lawn, the stables, the pool wing and the jetty, and then out across the bay. Zach was doing the same from the front windows, scanning the edge of the thick woods that created a natural barrier between the Abbey and the main road around the island. There was no sign of Matt anywhere.

Renard tapped Zach on the shoulder. ‘Did you lock up the rowing boat after you and the twins last used it?’

‘I think so,’ replied Zach cautiously. He wasn’t sure he had remembered to lock up the boat at all.

Renard looked out at the bay again. The moon was hidden behind a bank of heavy clouds spitting rain on the island and fogging up the tower windows. The bay was a band of black water, with only the distant lights on the islands of Arran and Bute giving the scene any perspective.

‘Go and activate the lighthouse on Era Mina, Zach,’ said Renard. ‘The switch is in the boathouse. If Matt’s taken to the water, we can use the light to try to track him.’

As Zach darted from the room, Renard kept scanning the water, back and forth, concentrating on any change in the waves and shifts in the moonlit shadows.

Where are you, Matt?
he thought.
Where are you?

Then Renard saw it – a glowing silver thread of light floating ethereally across the water.

‘Got you,’ he said, dropping his binoculars to his chest in relief. ‘You can’t hide an animation from me, son.’

Matt
was having a difficult time keeping on course, what with the wind, the rain and the building anxiety about what he was about to do. He was under no illusion that his grandfather would be tracking him. But if his plan worked, he’d be back in the Middle Ages before Renard discovered where he had gone.

Matt tore up the sketch of the lantern, shoving the pieces into his pocket with the other scraps. As the boat hit ground, he jumped out and dragged it up on to the rocky beach, stabbing its iron anchor into the sand. Then he dodged as fast as he could across the wet rocks, concentrating on his footing.

He was counting on the fact that he couldn’t hide an animation from his grandfather.

T
he
kitchen was buzzing with activity when Renard ran in to grab his raincoat and boots, despite it being three o’clock in the morning. Jeannie hadn’t returned to bed. A roaring fire was blazing in the hearth, the kettle was whistling, Jeannie was making toast, and Zach was buttering it with a mug of hot chocolate topped with melting marshmallows set in front of him. A swoosh of light from the Era Mina lighthouse was beaming across the lawn every three minutes.

Simon suddenly marched into the kitchen, dressed in his rain gear.

‘What are you doing out of bed?’ Renard asked with surprise.

‘You need me,’ Simon answered. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, the cut above his eye a rainbow of blues, pinks and yellows. He held his arm stiffly.

‘Matt’s gone to Era Mina with
The Demon Within
,’ said Renard. ‘He’s going to try and unbind his father.’

‘I know,’ said Simon. ‘I felt the whole thing. Let’s go.’

Zach started up from the table.

Renard shook his head firmly. ‘No, Zach. Not this time.’

‘Malcolm is dangerous,’ Simon told his son. ‘Very dangerous. And if Matt manages to unbind him, Malcolm will not only be dangerous but unstable.’

‘Because he’s been bound for so long?’ prompted Zach.

Renard fastened his coat and headed to the French doors. ‘Because no one has ever been unbound and survived,’ he said.

‘Matt doesn’t know that!’ Zach signed, aghast. ‘We need to stop him.’

‘And we will,’ said Simon. ‘But you need to leave it to us.’

Jeannie walked with Simon and Renard to the doors, talking to them as she went. They had their backs to Zach, making it impossible for him to read their lips. He felt a rush of anger. They had turned away from him on purpose.

Matt
lurked in the darkness until he saw Simon and Renard unlock the boathouse, pull the cover from the speedboat and shoot out into the bay towards Era Mina, with Simon behind the wheel.

Matt climbed on a jet ski he’d animated in advance, copying the design he and Em had drawn to rescue Zach in 1871. With the speedboat’s engine masking the jet ski’s roar, Matt cut through the darkness, keeping well away from Simon and Renard, back towards Auchinmurn.

He almost blew his whole plan when he crashed the jet ski on to the Auchinmurn shore faster and harder than he intended, the momentum propelling him across the boulders shored up against the tide and planting him face-down on the rocks. He lay in the cold and wet for a minute or two, suddenly feeling sorry for himself. He didn’t want to do this alone any more. He was not good alone. He needed Em. He needed someone – anyone. He needed his dad.

Climbing back on to his feet, Matt wiped the tears and the rain from his eyes and set off into the interior of the island.

Zach
paced in front of the kitchen fire, his adrenalin spiking from a combination of caffeine, sugar and a large dose of irritation. Why did the adults have to treat him like such a child? He was as capable as they were, maybe more, of talking Matt out of this. They should at least have given him a chance.

He closed his eyes and stilled his breathing. It was always difficult to track Matt in his mind, but he gave it his best shot. Concentrating hard, he thought he could feel a flash of grief and emotion. Then the image of a putrid swamp glimmered through.

Zach snapped his eyes open. Matt wasn’t on Era Mina.

Sprinting into the utility room, he grabbed his parka, falling over himself as he tried to pull on his boots while hopping to the French doors.

‘Wait just one wee minute!’ said Jeannie, blocking his way. ‘Where do you think yer going?’

‘I know where he is!’ Zach signed, dropping his left boot. ‘By the time my dad and Renard figure out that Matt’s tricked them, it’ll be too late. Jeannie, I’m the best possible person to talk Matt out of this. Let me go!’

He put his hand on Jeannie’s forearm and held her gaze, concentrating, drawing her distress and her determination from her, absorbing her feelings in his own psyche the way he had been learning from his dad. When he believed he had inspirited her enough to make his escape, he lifted his hand away.

He had hardly taken two steps when Jeannie’s hand shot out and grabbed him again.

‘I’m chuffed that ye thought you could persuade me with your abilities, but you forget I’ve been running this place since yer dad was a wean, and you’re still not going anywhere.’

Zach slumped on to the couch, angry and frustrated, and watched Jeannie answer the phone. When she hung up, she lifted her own coat from its peg and her orange safety vest, pulled on her boots and waved Zach to the door.

‘That was your dad,’ said Jeannie. ‘You were right. Matt tricked them and he seems to have done something to the petrol tank on the boat. They’re stuck on Era Mina. I’m taking the small fishing boat over wi’ some petrol and you’ve to go find Matt.’ She leaned close to Zach. ‘Yer dad says under no circumstances are you to do anything other than try to stop him from unbinding his dad. Promise?’

Nodding emphatically, Zach pulled open the French doors.

Jeannie put her hand on Zach’s shoulder. ‘We need to know where Matt is,’ she said gently.

Zach looked at Jeannie. ‘He’s gone to Skinner’s Bog.’