His eyes narrowed. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’
I didn’t waste any further time. ‘You have one of my … brethren. Release him and I will tell you where the Stone of Scone is.’
Every goblin froze. It was like the world’s most threatening game of musical statues.
‘You know of the Stone?’
I made a show of examining my fingernails. ‘I do.’
‘And you know where it is?’
‘I do.’ I smiled. ‘I also know that the Filit goblins have discovered a clue as to its whereabouts. In fact, they’re probably close to getting their grubby mitts on it.’ I checked my watch and pursed my lips. ‘They found a scroll hidden inside an old puzzle box. I imagine that it will tell them everything they need to know.’ I was banking on the fact that the Gneiss goblins were already aware of the hunt for Ange’s little box. It lent my tale the credibility I needed.
The Gneiss general’s expression didn’t flicker but I could feel the excitement of the other goblins. ‘Why are you telling us this?’
‘It’s simple. You have one of mine and I want him back. If he’s still alive and not at death’s door, I will tell you what you need to know.’
His eyes held mine. ‘You understand what we are planning to do with the Stone if we recover it?’
I rather liked this goblin. He had an air of honesty that was conspicuously absent in Ghrashbreg. ‘I do,’ I answered. ‘But it doesn’t worry me. I’m not planning on sticking around in Scotland for long.’ And I was, after all, a wraith – a soulless creature who wouldn’t give a hoot what happened to everyone else.
The general tapped his mouth. ‘What’s to stop us forcing you to tell us where the Stone is?’
I didn’t blink. ‘Nothing. Everyone breaks under torture sooner or later.’ I leaned forward. ‘The question is, can you break me before your Filit cousins find the Stone?’
‘She’s just a girl,’ another goblin burst out. ‘It’ll take us five minutes to get her to spill everything she knows.’
I smirked. The general rolled his eyes. ‘Idiot. You don’t know the first thing about where real strength comes from.’ He looked back at me. ‘You have a deal.’ He gestured to several of his minions and they scurried away.
The Gneiss goblin obviously wasn’t one for small talk. Instead of asking me questions or chatting inanely, he watched me while we waited, his hands knitted loosely together. He might have been examining me for weaknesses so he could pounce when it suited him but I had the feeling I could trust him. Perhaps he was the Gneiss equivalent of Gabriel, noble and honest to a fault, or perhaps he recognised that he had very little to lose. They probably had no further use for my fellow wraith who had already indicated to me that his days were numbered. Why not hand him over?
While the goblin watched me, I watched him; two could play at this game. I only looked away when a flicker in the corner of my eye finally indicated some activity.
It was an older man, probably close to sixty years of age. He was looking worse for wear and being hauled towards us by two Gneiss goblins. His feet dragged on the ground. I might not have seen his physical form before but I’d still have recognised him. It was a wraith thing.
When the trio reached us, the two goblins released their prisoner. He collapsed in a heap at their feet. So much for the Geneva Convention. Any trace of guilt about what I was doing vanished instantly. You could tell a lot about a group of people by the way they treated their prisoners.
‘I want him alive,’ I commented. ‘Not dying. He’s no use to me if he dies half a mile from here.’
The Gneiss general raised his shoulders. ‘He’s alive at this moment.’ He kicked the wraith who let out a small groan. ‘See?’
I glared at the goblin. ‘Not helpful,’ I muttered.
‘Not my problem. Tell me where the Stone of Scone is.’
‘The dungeons.’
His brow furrowed. ‘The Tolbooth?’
‘Those aren’t the only dungeons in Stirling.’
He stared at me for a moment before his expression cleared. ‘The castle,’ he murmured. ‘There are dungeons underneath there.’
‘It fits,’ said another goblin. ‘We know the Stone’s below the surface. We always suspected the castle was the logical location.’
As if by unspoken consensus, they all turned and began marching at top speed into the encampment.
‘Hey!’ I yelled. ‘Can’t one of you give me a hand?’
Not one of them turned. I sighed, shuffled over to the half-comatose wraith and heaved him up. ‘Sorry, mate. I’m going to have drag you like they did. It won’t be for long though.’
‘What?’ he gasped.
‘Don’t try to talk. We’re on a clock here.’ I huffed and puffed as I walked. At least this guy was easier to drag than Gabriel.
‘What,’ he said again, ‘have you done? You told them…’
I smiled, passed the outer checkpoint and bundled him into the back seat of the car. I patted his shoulder and he shuddered as I touched him. I could relate to that. ‘Don’t worry,’ I said.
The Gneiss goblins had taken the bait and I hadn’t even lied to them. I’d simply implied that the Stone of Scone was hidden under the castle instead of under the Tolbooth. ‘Everything is going to plan.’
***
After driving back to where I needed to be, I left the wraith in the car. I explained what was going on and where we were. If he had any sense, he’d give himself an hour or two of breathing space to recover then he’d drive the vehicle as far away from here as possible. I still didn’t know his name but it was probably better that way. We were wraiths, not pack wolves.
Although there was every chance that the tunnel through which the others had escaped had been compromised, whether by Death Worms or the Filits, I had no choice but to use it to get back inside the city boundaries.
I found the entrance on the hillside close to the old church without too much difficulty. It wasn’t particularly well concealed – all I had to do was follow the tracks, no doubt caused by Marrock’s transportation vehicles, which scarred the ground. Slipping inside, I was surprised by how dry the tunnel was. It must have taken a Herculean effort to carve it out and I gave credit to Marrock. Wherever his soul was now, I hoped he was happy. He might have taken advantage of the siege in many unsavoury ways but, in the end, he’d proved more than worthy. I prayed that his sacrifice wasn’t in vain.
When I emerged into the old, tumbledown school, I paused to look around. Everything was the same as when we were here before. The dust lay in the same spots and the tables and chairs hadn’t been disturbed. That made me feel considerably better.
It was tempting to slide into shadow form; in theory, I’d be safer that way. The trouble was that, despite my words to Gabriel and the Prime Minister, I didn’t know how I was going to remove the shadow from the Stone of Scone. I didn’t know whether I had to be in wraith form or in physical form and I couldn’t take the risk of leaving my body somewhere when I might need it after I found the Stone.
Fortunately, when I ducked my head out of the door and saw the smoke rising from the west, next to the Gneiss encampment, I knew they’d done as I hoped. They were sending every soldier they had into the city to retrieve the Stone. All eyes, hands and death wishes would be far away from me.
I crossed my fingers that the Filits and Gneiss would keep themselves occupied fighting each other and racing to search the castle dungeons for the Stone. I was working with an entirely different countdown.
I spun away from the main roads, hiding as much as possible whilst maintaining my speed. I kept up a steady jog to the bowling alley. There was the occasional boom in the distance, along with some yelling and gunfire, but I blotted it out and focused on myself.
I slowed down when I reached the approach to the alley but no one jumped out in front of me to stop me. I suppose there was no longer any need for guards since Marrock was no longer there.
Once inside, I cast around. He might have mentioned other tunnels that led from here but I didn’t know where they were. I searched the front of the house, the deserted kitchen where the smell of old grease still clung to the air, and various nooks and crannies. There was nothing. Then my eyes fell upon the silent bowling alley lanes. Hmmm.
Skirting round the back to the door marked ‘Staff Only’, I found myself behind the lanes. The heavy apparatus that returned the skittles to their places lay dead; it hadn’t worked for a long time. I examined everything but it wasn’t until I reached the very end that I spotted the hole leading downwards. With my heart in my mouth, I wasted no further time and began to descend.
When I reached the bottom, my eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. There were three tunnels branching off; the left-hand one headed towards the river and the direct escape route that Marrock had mentioned. Whether the right tunnel or the middle one led underneath the Tolbooth was anyone’s guess. I debated for a moment and then elected to travel down the middle one.
For a long time, the only sound was my breath and my feet. I pounded along until I came to a dead end. The tunnel was impressively shored up with timber; in another life, I’d have stopped to admire the effort that had gone into it. Instead I cursed that it led to nowhere. I’d made the wrong choice and had to go back.