‘Brawly spoken, Rob,’ said the kelda as she considered the unconscious creature. ‘But why just one? Are ye sure?’
There was a groan from the elf and it stirred. Rob’s claymore leaped into his hand but the kelda gently held him back. The bedraggled elf groaned again and whispered something, its voice weak and faltering. The kelda pricked up her ears and listened carefully before turning to her husband with some surprise.
‘It said, “Thunder and Lightning”!’ she said.
The elf whispered again and this time Rob could hear the words too: ‘Thunder and Lightning.’
Everyone on the Chalk knew about Granny Aching’s famous dogs, Thunder and Lightning, long gone but, as all the local farmers believed, still roaming the hills in spirit. Several years before, young Tiffany Aching had summoned them to help rid the Chalk of the Queen of Fairyland. Now here was an elf, at the very entrance to a Feegle mound, invoking their names.
‘There’s somethin’ I dinnae like aboot this,’ said the kelda. ‘But I cannae decide what it means withoot oor hag. Can ye send for her, Rob?’
‘Aye, Hamish can gae. I mun get back to the stones and the clan.’ He looked at his wife anxiously. ‘Will ye be all richt here wi’ that scunner?’
‘Aye, I’ll take it inside, ye ken, to dry by the fire. It’s too weak tae dae anything tae me. And the boys kin look after me.’ Jeannie nodded over at a happy bundle of young Feegles, who were tumbling out of the mound, waving their crescent-shaped clubs in the air.
‘Aye, it will be good practice for them,’ Rob said, looking at them proudly. And then ducked as one of the Feegles let loose his club and it shot through the air and nearly smacked him on the ear.
To his amazement, the weapon swung round in the air and shot back to the young Feegle who had hurled it, giving him a bang on the head, saving Rob the trouble.
‘Ach, boys,’ Rob shouted. ‘It fights ye back! Now that’s a weapon fit for any Feegle. Double the fun, ye ken.’
Tiffany had just begun to dress when there was a whistling sound outside, followed by the thump of something falling past, merrily breaking branches, and then a tapping on the window.
She opened the window and she could see a tangle of cotton and cloth down below, which after a good kickin’ fell away to reveal Hamish, the Feegle aviator.fn2
With the window open, it was suddenly very cold in the bedroom, and Tiffany sighed and said, ‘Yes, Hamish, now tell me what you need me for.’
Hamish, adjusting his goggles, jumped up onto the sill and into the room. ‘Oor kelda hae sent for ye, hag o’ the hills. I mun get ye tae the mound as soon as ye can.’
It had been a long day, but Tiffany knew that if the kelda wanted her, even after midnight, then that was where she needed to be. So she put on her heavy-duty travelling pants, left a saucer of milk on the hearth and cranked up the broomstick.
And once again You was staring at her, the white cat who seemed now to be everywhere.
The fire inside the mound was like a furnace.
The young Feegles who had been left to guard their kelda were all scowling at the hated adversary. When Rob Anybody returned, each Feegle wanted to look like he had been the one to keep the scunner from causing any trouble. Especially now she was inside the mound.
But the elf appeared to have been crying.
The kelda shifted her bulk and said softly, ‘So now, elf, you come to me. For what purpose? Why do we nae kill ye right noo?’
This caused a susurration of expectation among the Feegles, each of whom was hoping to kill an elf before too long, and trepidation on the part of the elf.
The kelda turned away, then said softly, ‘I ha’ the secrets of the hiddlins, and what I see is that everything we do today was ordained afore the seas were made. There is nae turning back. But there is a mist in what is afore me. I cannae see for sure beyond this day, ye ken.’
There was a shiver from the elf.
‘Haed yer tongue richt noo, elf,’ Jeannie mused. ‘For I wonder what my position were tae be if things were otherwise. Yoor people are sae . . . inventive.’
That caused the young Feegles to brandish their weapons playfully, and the kelda turned back to the elf and went on, ‘Ye are sent tae me by the calling of Thunder and Lightning. I ken those twa spirit dogs, aye, and also their owner, will be with us soon enough. Right now, shivering elf, tell me what is the geas you are under? Why are ye here? Who are ye? What is your name? And dinnae lie tae me, elf. Because I ha’ a way of kenning.’ The kelda looked at the elf – tiny, shrivelled, rags and drying blood – something that could have been kicked about for days before being left to end its life in a dew pond.