Mines of the Minotaur

  A ghost of a smile flickered across Eagle-Child’s lips, and for the first time he met Connie’s gaze and nodded slightly in her direction.

  “Are you Society members?” rapped out Mr. Coddrington, consulting a sheaf of paper he held in his hand. “I don’t remember there being a minotaur in Devon.”

  The minotaur threw back his head and gave a bellow of bitter laughter. “No, we are not on your lists, Trustee. We have fallen off all lists. We are the creatures that live beneath the regard of the Society: the ones you, with your systems and procedures, would prefer to forget. We are the casualties of the war humankind is waging with the earth.”

  Mr. Coddrington quickly reached the conclusion that it would not enhance his reputation in the Society if he were seen to eject a crowd of disabled veterans. He put down his papers and took a step toward Sentinel, holding out a welcoming hand. His smile was insincere.

  “In that case, it is time we did take notice. I am sure the Society will be able to help, but that must be dealt with later, because now we are engaged in a most serious—”

  Sentinel ignored the outstretched hand. “You cannot help us. Your Society members have done enough. I could introduce you to creatures who are only here because of him and his mistakes.” The minotaur raised an accusing finger and pointed at Mr. Masterson and then at the bag of fertilizer on which Storm-Bird was perched.

  The farmer quailed. The accusation evidently rang true with him immediately. “I’m sorry about that. I reported the error to the environmental officers…. I’ve tried to clean up….” Mr. Masterson blustered.

  “So you are seeking compensation?” asked Mr. Coddrington. “I think we have a fund for relocation—”

  “You cannot compensate us,” growled Sentinel, “but the universal can.”

  There was an awkward silence. Kinga, her face stern, took one look at the newest Trustee and realized he did not know what to do next. She stepped forward to take the proceedings under her direction before they disintegrated further.

  “As you are Connie’s friend,” she said to the minotaur, “perhaps you would like to take a seat with her? We would like to hear more about your case, of course, but whether or not the universal will be able to help you by using her powers can only be decided after we have ruled on the matter before us. It may be that she is too dangerous to be of any help to you, and we will have to find another way to assist you all.”

  Mr. Coddrington nodded eagerly, endorsing his colleague’s words with enthusiasm. “That’s right. As I said: now is not the time.”

  The minotaur stood his ground and lowered his horns toward the row of Trustees. He pawed the floor with his right foot. Connie knew he was contemplating charging them to end the debate by force.

  “Sentinel!” Connie said sharply. “No, don’t do that! It won’t help me. Come stand by me, please!”

  He grunted, hunching forward.

  “Please!” Connie entreated.

  Reluctantly, the minotaur turned his back and stalked proudly to her side, taking up position, arms folded across his broad chest.

  Kinga gave Connie a grateful nod. “Thank you, Connie. Let us return to your explanation.”

  Heartened by the presence of her bodyguard and the ranks of supporters clustered behind her, Connie found her voice was steady and clear when she spoke again.

  “What I’m going to say may be difficult to believe,” she began, “but others can back up my story. They know I’m telling the truth. I think it all goes back to what happened in Mallins Wood. It seems that…that…”—she closed her eyes, wishing she did not have to say these next words—“that Kullervo has left the mark of his companionship within me.” There was a murmur from the terraces and the hum of the shape-shifter’s name being repeated by many mouths. “It gives him access to me when I am asleep or”—she opened her eyes to cast a quick look at Col, remembering how she had nearly killed him—“or when I’m feeling very angry.”

  Col did not flinch but gave her an encouraging nod.

  “And what happens then?” coaxed Kinga.

  “I’m not sure, but I think I assume Kullervo’s powers. I become a channel for his urge to create havoc and chaos.”

  “In that case,” said Kira, the unicorn companion, casting her orange kikoi over her shoulder as she rose to her feet, “why are we all still here? I thought that if you unleashed Kullervo’s power on us, we’d be swept away?”

  Connie nodded. “That’s what he once told me. But I think somehow I’ve not let it reach that point. I seem to have been controlling what I’ve done—I suppose I’ve just been ‘playing’ with the power. And both times I have been stopped by an encounter with another creature before things went too far.”

  Kira, Kinga, and Eagle-Child looked at one another in wonder. Mr. Coddrington, however, was incandescent.

  “And what, pray, is your proof of all this?” he snapped.

  Gard got to his feet. Even upright he only came to the waist of the minotaur. “We have seen it—Sentinel, Argot, Dr. Brock, Skylark, Col, and I. We entered her mind and saw the mark.”

  “What! She encountered all these mythical creatures—blatantly flouting the rules banning farther association! This has gone much farther than even I suspected!” Mr. Coddrington exclaimed. “She’s dangerous and you encourage her, Rock Dwarf!”

  Col, sitting beside his grandmother, swallowed hard as he saw Captain Graves rap his cane into his palm and look angrily across at his pupil. He wondered if he was about to be permanently grounded.

  “Do not be a fool, Companion to Weather Giants,” said Gard with great authority, needing no extra inches to make Mr. Coddrington cower before him. “We had to find out the truth—something you would never have done.”

  Kira Okona and Windfoal crossed the floor to stand by Connie. “So she can’t be held responsible for what has happened?” Kira put her arm around Connie’s shoulder.

  “No,” said Gard firmly. “He has merely been waiting for an opportunity to break through.”

  Mr. Coddrington ran his hand through his hair, aghast at the defection of two of the Trustees. “It is worse than I feared!” he said, his voice becoming shrill. “The girl’s a ticking bomb. What evidence have we that she isn’t colluding with him and letting him use her? We have only her word for it. I’ve never heard the like of it before.”

  “Oh yes, you have,” said Mack gruffly, pushing Col forward. “It happened to Col, didn’t it? Go on, tell him.”

  Col looked once at Connie and then turned to face the Trustees. “Kullervo can force his way into you if he wants,” he said, keeping his eyes on Kinga as he guessed she was nearly persuaded, “but he uses what’s in you. In me, he found I liked fighting and used that, pushing it a little farther each time until I became hardened to it and enjoyed bloodshed. In Connie, I suppose he’s found a desire to play with her power. Let’s hope he doesn’t get the chance to push it any farther. I’ve been on the receiving end of one of her thunderbolts and that was enough.”

  Kinga smiled and Morjik rumbled, giving vent to a subterranean chuckle.

  “So!” spluttered Mr. Coddrington. “She’s an open door for Kullervo, and you are proposing we let her back into the Society!”

  “We have the matter contained,” said Gard, creaking ominously as he fingered his mallet. He looked as if he would like to deploy it on the Trustee’s head. “We have placed a guard on Connie. While she is bonded with another, it appears that Kullervo finds it difficult to break through.”

  “Contained, you say!” squealed Mr. Coddrington. “So, in that case, what was last night all about?”

  “I can vouch for the fact that Connie was not outside until the storm was far advanced,” said Gard calmly.

  “But perhaps she can summon storms from inside. Who knows what a universal can do?” Mr. Coddrington’s slicked-back hair fell over his eyes as his hand sliced the air, finger pointing at Connie.

  She steeled herself to confront him, reluctantly deciding she must speak a
gain. “No one knows, not even me. But I do know I didn’t summon that storm. I was on the beach to stop the white horses from crashing into the cliff. I suppose either you believe me, or you don’t. It’s my word against what you thought you saw.”

  Storm-Bird gave a shrill whistle from its perch, and Eagle-Child moved in his cat-like prowl to stand before Connie. He rested a hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Universal,” he said. He dropped his hand and took his place by the minotaur, a second bodyguard with arms folded across his chest.

  Morjik let out a plume of white smoke, which drifted across the space between him and Connie, wreathing her in his warm breath.

  Kinga turned to Mr. Coddrington. “I think I speak for the other Trustees when I say that we feel the grounds for Connie’s expulsion no longer look so firm. We will need to see this mark for ourselves, of course, but it seems to me that we should reinstate her fully if we are satisfied by what this reveals.”

  There was an angry murmuring from some of the people on the terrace. Captain Graves raised his hand.

  “Yes?” asked Kinga.

  “You may speak for the Trustees, but I know I speak for many of us here in the Chartmouth Chapter when I say that we have nothing against Connie personally, but we are concerned that you are not doing enough to ensure the safety of others. The universal is dangerous. Mr. Coddrington called her a ticking bomb; well, I would just like to point out that she has already gone off twice. How many more incidents will it take before someone gets killed?”

  Kinga nodded her head gravely and looked over to Morjik. The dragon flickered his tongue into the air; his fiery eyes blinked once.

  “We must be mindful of this, of course,” said Kinga, “but I am of the opinion—an opinion which I see her friends share—that we can better help Connie if she is within the Society. She would be more dangerous outside.”

  Captain Graves inclined his head. “I take your point, Trustee, but surely she must not be allowed to continue without supervision? Who knows what the exercise of her powers will lead to?”

  “Yes, yes!” said Mr. Coddrington, grasping at straws as he saw his victory fast disappearing. “She must be kept under lock and key until this matter is settled, one way or another.”

  “No!” said Gard angrily, his eyes beginning to blaze with red fire, as if the coal from which he was made had ignited. “She is not a criminal, Coddrington! Surround her with her friends, by all means, but stop persecuting her just because she has gifts that you do not understand.”

  Mr. Coddrington took a step toward the rock dwarf. Gard raised his mallet.

  “Enough!” Kinga ordered, stepping between them. “I propose first that Connie be reinstated to the Society on the condition that she shows us Kullervo’s mark. Secondly, that the guard be continued, but in a way that allows her to carry on with her ordinary life. Other encounters or exercise of the universal’s power should be restricted to only that which is essential to the investigation into her condition. This should continue until such time as we are satisfied that she does not pose a threat to herself or others. Do my colleagues agree?” Kinga’s eagle-bright eyes swept around the circle of her fellow Trustees. “If I read this rightly, the proposal is carried six votes to two.”

  Mr. Coddrington crumpled up his papers in disgust.

  Kinga felt in her pocket and held out four badges.

  “Connie, you are back in,” she concluded, tipping the badges onto the universal’s hand. They lay on Connie’s palm: crystal, wings, horse, and lizard. “Welcome home!”

  15

  Dip with the Selkies

  Connie did not feel much like celebrating, despite Rat’s best efforts to involve her in the impromptu party at Shaker Row. Many of her friends were there and she was sincerely pleased to see their relieved, happy faces, but she could not forget that she still had to let the Trustees see Kullervo’s mark.

  “Are you going to go swimming with the seal boy?” asked Rat as he watched the sleek-haired selkie, Arran, drape his arm around his companion’s shoulder, his nose twitching as someone offered him a tuna sandwich. “Jessica’s off for a dip with him. It’ll be amazing to see him transform into a seal!”

  “No, thanks,” said Connie, grabbing a handful of peanuts from the bowl on the dresser, “I’ve had enough of the sea for the moment.”

  Dr. Brock, who was passing with a glass of champagne clutched in one hand, added: “You forget, Rat, that Connie’s not supposed to go encountering creatures unless absolutely necessary.”

  Rat shrugged. “That wouldn’t stop me. Selkies sound really cool.”

  “Quite. That’s why we all have to thank our lucky stars that it’s Connie, and not you, who’s the universal,” Dr. Brock said caustically before going to join Gard by the fire. Rat grinned at Connie and wandered over to Jessica to angle for an introduction to Arran.

  Connie was surprised to see that Col was also watching Jessica and the selkie but with a distinctly jealous look in his eyes.

  “What’s up, Col?” she asked softly. “You don’t look too happy.”

  “No,” said Col, tearing his eyes away from the couple who were now laughing with Rat. “I’m pleased, of course, about the appeal, but it’s just that…well, I’m still grounded. I thought Captain Graves might let me off now that you’re reinstated, but he said I had to learn a lesson about rules and that what happened to you didn’t count.”

  “Oh,” she said, shaking her head sadly, “I’m really sorry.”

  Now that Col had started, he found it was a relief to let all his problems tumble out. “He told me he was thinking of extending the punishment after hearing about our little expedition with Sentinel. He said I’d be lucky to get away with just a month.” Col snapped a breadstick into smaller and smaller pieces, thinking of what he would like to do to his mentor’s cane. “Then Skylark told him to take a running jump and said we’d fly together no matter what the old windbag said, which means he’s now in trouble, too. He’ll probably also be grounded, and that’ll be much worse for him than it is for me.”

  “Ah.”

  “But at least it means that no one else gets to ride him, so I can’t help feeling happy about that, but then I feel guilty for feeling happy, do you understand?”

  Connie nodded, hiding a smile.

  “And don’t say ‘it’s only a month’ like Gran does, because flying with Skylark is everything to me.”

  “I won’t, I promise.”

  Col suddenly remembered to whom he was talking. “I’m so sorry, Connie. Here I am going on about this when you’ve got so much more to worry about!”

  “No, it’s fine—really, it’s fine. It’s good to hear other people’s problems; it helps take your mind off your own.”

  “Yeah,” said Col, giving her a swift one-armed hug, “you’re right.”

  “Er…hem!” Rat had returned and was standing behind Col. “Not interrupting anything, I hope?”

  “Nope,” said Col, quickly moving away from Connie.

  “Good, because I wanted to tell Connie that I’ve done it—I’m going swimming with a changeling creature—now!”

  “You’re nuts!” laughed Connie. “It’s January! Only a Sea Snake could survive out there.”

  “What’s a bit of cold water when you have a chance to take a dip with a selkie?” said Rat over his shoulder, following Jessica and her companion out the door.

  Rat missed school for the next few days. He was suffering from hypothermia, according to his mother. She was so angry with him for having gone swimming at midnight that she was refusing to let anyone in to see him. Even Mack could not win her around when he brought Col over for a visit.

  “The idiot boy went for a swim in nothing but a pair of pants!” She waved her arms in the direction of the upstairs bedroom where the feverish Rat was cloistered. “Of course I’m not letting anyone see him! No sympathy and grapes for him! He’s a no-good waste of space like his father! Even a squid has more brains t
han him!”

  “Oh, come on, Siobhan,” interrupted Mack, “some squids I know are very intelligent.”

  Siobhan gave him a funny look. “You’re cracked yourself, Mack Clamworthy. It was probably you who gave him the idea—running off to the beach at your own party from what I hear.”

  “You know me, Siobhan,” said Mack, giving her a wink, “I like to live on the edge.”

  “Ha!” Mrs. Ratcliff laughed scornfully, throwing back her mop of red hair. “You’re well over the edge, Mack, but I don’t want you dragging my son after you.”

  “I had nothing to do with his swim the other night, I swear,” said Mack hurriedly, thumping his hand to his chest. “Col, you tell her.”

  Col shook his head. “He didn’t. It was Jessica.”

  “So, it was a girl, was it!” she crowed. “Wait till I tell him what I think of him chasing the girls. Trying to impress her, I’ve no doubt.”

  “Er…it wasn’t…” said Col, aware he had unwittingly landed Rat in more trouble. But Mrs. Ratcliff was under full sail and took no heed of his attempt to correct her.

  “But how he thinks a scrawny thing like him, all covered in goosebumps, will impress a girl, I don’t know. You’d better go,” she said, going back into the cottage, “as you’re wasting your time here. Don’t worry—I’ll boot him back to school as soon as he’s well enough to stand. There are no malingerers in my house.”

  Pausing by the bike to put on their helmets, Mack and Col looked at each other and grimaced.

  “Sounds bad, doesn’t it?” said Col.

  “Oh, he’ll be all right,” said Mack, buckling his strap under his chin. “She’ll look after him, despite all that sound and fury.”

  “I s’pose,” said Col. He turned to take in the progress being made on the wind farm. Six tall white masts were standing erect in the field, towering over the pine plantation behind them like outsize weeds. A crane loomed over the plots for the final two, which were lying in pieces at its feet. This part of Dartmoor would soon be out of bounds for the pegasi. “Almost finished then?”