The crystal dimmed and then brightened to show the interior of the bank where white-faced security staff clutched at one another, shivering at the memory of the ghastly drifting shapes that had so nearly caught them.
“Well, it certainly looks as though something’s been happening there,” the MacArthur commented as the crystal scanned the bank’s marble foyer.
“Look, there’s Sir Archie,” Jaikie pointed to the door of the bank where the Chief Constable was talking busily to Jock MacPherson.
“Thank goodness he’s all right,” the MacArthur muttered and, as the crystal reverted once more to the ghost-ridden streets of the Underground City, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Mind you, it’ll be interesting to see what he plans to do about that little lot,” he mused.
“Do? With the Plague People?” Lord Rothlan said, looking up with a frown. “There isn’t much he can do, is there?”
“There’s not a lot we can do either, come to that,” Lady Ellan remarked, slipping her hand through her husband’s arm.
“Well, it looks as though he might be coming here in a minute,” Jaikie interrupted as the crystal dimmed and brightened once more. “He’s just left the bank and called his carpet!”
Instinctively, they all turned to look at the side of the cave where a magic carpet had unrolled itself gently and was already whisking its way towards one of the tunnels that led to the surface of Arthur’s Seat.
The MacArthur eyed it sourly. “Aye,” he said as it disappeared into the gloom, “and when he arrives, I’ll bet you a pound for a penny that he thinks I can get rid of the Plague People with a hex! Just like that!”
“You can’t really blame him,” Lord Rothlan smiled wryly. “He won’t understand that we’re powerless to help.”
A few minutes later, they looked up as a carpet carrying the Chief Constable sailed into the huge cavern from one of the tunnels.
“Here he is now,” Lady Ellan said as the carpet flew towards them.
The Chief Constable greeted the MacArthur and then seeing Lord Rothlan, strode over to congratulate him on his marriage. “Lord Rothlan!” Sir Archie shook hands with him warmly, “and Lady Ellan,” he said delightedly. “My warmest congratulations to you both!” He cleared his throat. “MacArthur,” he said, “can I ask you about the ghosts in Mary King’s Close?”
The MacArthur looked at Lord Rothlan and sighed. “I know you’d like me to help, but …”
“It’s serious, MacArthur,” Sir Archie interrupted urgently. “The ghosts of the plague victims have escaped. Mary King told me just five minutes ago. She managed to get all of my men out safely, but according to her the Plague People have taken over the whole Underground City!”
The MacArthur sighed. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, “but I can’t do it! I can’t hex them away!”
The Chief Constable looked horrified as his eyes flew from one serious face to another.
“Ghosts aren’t magic people, you see,” Rothlan explained. “They are spirits of the dead and our magic doesn’t affect them.”
“I’m afraid it’s something that the ghosts have to sort out for themselves,” the MacArthur said.
“But the plague!” The Chief Constable was astounded. “You’ve got to help! Once they get into the streets there’ll be panic! To say nothing of an epidemic of the Black Death in Edinburgh!”
“Aye, you’ll have to keep them confined to the Underground City,” agreed the MacArthur. “No doubt about it! All the exits and entrances will have to be sealed up so the plague ghosts can’t get out into the streets! You do realize that they need actual openings to get through, don’t you?”
The Chief Constable looked at him in relief. “You mean they can’t drift through walls and doors like Mary King’s lot?”
“That power was taken away from them by the Council of Elders,” the MacArthur explained, “otherwise how would the closed cellars have held them prisoner for all these years?”
“I see.” the Chief Constable said grimly. “Well, then, it’s not as bad as I thought, but it’s bad enough! It’ll only take one of them to get out and the whole of Edinburgh will be in a panic! Murdo Fraser’s got to be found! And found quickly!”
25. The Genie of the Lamp
Matt Lafferty, the magnificently-clad Grand Vizier, got such a shock at Casimir’s sudden, dramatic appearance that he almost leapt the height of himself. He gawped in wonder and backed somewhat nervously away — for the towering genie was a frightening sight, his face grim amid the swirling clouds of multi-coloured smoke that billowed round him. He grabbed Neil and Clara and, pulling them towards the Sultan’s throne, let out a muttered stream of broad Scots that fortunately, given the circumstances, few people understood.