Chapter 16

Mysteries in Moonlight

OISÍN had been camping in the woods before. The trails had been carefully marked, his parents had packed enough sandwiches to last a month, and their tent had been huge, a home from home. Even in the dark, when Stephen had tried to convince him that every crackling twig was a monster, Oisín had known that the Wicklow mountains were probably more likely to house beetles or badgers than flesh-eating trees or zombie bears.

Walking through the Forest of Shadows at night was a very different experience. Shadows drooped from every branch, shifting slightly as if they could sense an intruder. Hardly any moonlight penetrated the shadowy cover, but Oisín could still make out the shadows of tangled branches on the forest floor. He was also pretty sure he could feel them. As he pushed through the maze of twisting branches and gnarly roots, Oisín felt his hand brush through something dark and cold. Remembering the shadow-fish, he shook it off and blundered ahead through the tightly packed trees.

Unlike the rest of the Enchanted Forest, there weren’t any trails here and it wasn’t long before Oisín was completely lost. He stopped, unable to remember why he had felt the urgent need to leave the Houlihans’ tree. He tried to turn back in the direction he had come. The problem with the forest was that soon everything started to look the same. Oisín also had the uncomfortable feeling that the trees themselves were moving. He tried to listen for Tom or Caoimhe’s voice but all he heard was the twitch of the night air and the beat of his heart, hammering harder and harder. Oisín suddenly wished that he was camping with his family instead, with access to the thousand things their mother packed for emergencies that never arose. He would have loved a torch or even one of Granny Keane’s banana curry sandwiches. The only thing he had was the Book of Magic. He pulled it out of his hoodie, hoping he could get it to illuminate itself. If anything, though, the Book of Magic seemed darker than the rest of the forest, like a black hole, sucking in all the light around it.

Oisín broke into a run. He knew that it wasn’t sensible to run in a dark forest, but he couldn’t help it. Branches scratched at his face, roots threatened to trip him and the shadows swarmed around him. No matter how fast he ran, he didn’t seem to make any progress. There were always more branches to brush through, always more shadows slithering towards him. All he could do was keep running until – THUD!

Oisín slipped over a root and slammed onto the snow. He raised his head to see where he was but realised with a lurch that he couldn’t see anything. The dark around him was impenetrable. Oisín was totally disoriented. He reached his hands across the ground but couldn’t tell which direction was which any more. He could hear the rustle of roots and branches as they crept closer but he had no idea which way he should run. He felt a swarm of insects crawl over him, desparate to get away from whatever was closing around him.

‘Hello?’ Oisín called, aware of how small his voice sounded in the complete darkness.

There was no answer, only the frantic scurrying of beetles and the creak of the trees. Oisín reached for the Book of Magic but it had dived out of his hoodie pocket when he fell. Oisín felt something grab hold of his arms and had a terrible moment when he wasn’t sure if he was falling or being pulled up. It was as if the shadows were reaching inside of him and pulling out every bright thought until all he could imagine was darkness.

Just as Oisín was sure the shadows were going to do something terrible, he heard a thunderous noise and felt whatever was holding him let go. Now it was the trees’ turn to scurry away and the moon appeared in time to let Oisín know he was definitely falling.

He landed with a crash on top of a large animal. Oisín thought that one of Eachtra’s horses had got lost until he slid off and saw the size of the creature.

It was the great Irish elk, the animal that Oisín hadn’t believed was real. It looked real enough in the moonlight. It was bigger than a car, with huge sharp antlers, a dark sleek coat and intelligent black eyes. It tapped its huge hooves on the ground and rotated its antlers, speaking to Oisín in Forest, the sign-language that Cathad had taught them.

‘The Enchanted Forest welcomes Oisín the gentle,’ the great beast signed to him. ‘You would do well to remember your name.’

Oisín remembered Granny Keane had said the same words as the DART had pulled off: Remember your name. He had been named after one of the old heroes of the Fianna, Oisín the gentle, but Oisín wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything.

Except, Oisín realised as he looked into the deep eyes of the great elk, he hadn’t been very gentle as he pushed past the Houlihans and insulted Tom.

The elk sensed that he didn’t fully understand and signed something else: Be careful who you trust.

Oisín could trust the elk, he knew that much. There was something so ancient about the goodness in the creature’s eyes that Oisín knew he could believe in it. The elk twisted its antlers again and Oisín realised he hadn’t fully understood the earlier message. Not be careful who you trust but be careful what you trust.

It was the Book of Magic, Oisín realised. That was what had made him be rude to Tom, that was what had dragged him towards the Forest of Shadows. The further north they travelled, the stronger it became. And the harder it became for him to think apart from it. He had to give it up, Oisín realised, not just to save Sorcha, but to save himself.

‘Thank you,’ Oisín signed.

For the first time in a while, Oisín felt like himself, free from the lure of the Book of Magic. The elk was about to sway its head in acknowledgement but then it pricked its ears and signed something else. It was one of the most commonly used phrases in Forest, something every animal understood instantly: Danger is coming. Beware.

With a crash of its huge hooves, the great elk bolted off into the depths of the forest. Oisín felt very alone until he saw the figure running out of the Forest of Shadows: Cassandra Quicksilver, looking very flustered about something.

‘What are you doing in the Forest of Shadows?’ she said to Oisín.

‘We could ask you the same thing, sis.’

Oisín turned to see the four male Quints emerge from the other direction, their eyes remarkably silver in the moonlight.

‘It’s none of your business,’ Cassandra said crisply.

Lysander wasn’t so easily brushed off.

‘Who were you meeting here?’ he said, searching the shadows for signs of somebody else.

‘I was just stargazing,’ Cassandra said, blushing. Even Oisín knew that a dark forest was one of the worst places to look at stars.

‘Anyway,’ Cassandra said, her normal composure returning. ‘What are you all doing here?’

‘We were searching for this little dude,’ Brad Washington said, shining a sleek torch around nervously. ‘And now that we’ve found him, maybe we can go. This place seriously creeps me out.’

Lysander stood up from the ground, where he had been examining the elk’s tracks.

‘What’s the matter, Braddy-boy?’ he said. ‘Scared of the dark?’

‘Don’t worry, some of us have real croíachts and can get us out of here,’ Ben Washington said, pulling out his calculator.

Brad looked like he was about to hit his brother, but Cassandra pushed him aside to hand Ben a thread from her scarf. All it took were a few taps of Ben’s calculator and the tiny strand of silver had expanded into a huge cloud, hovering over the ground like a magic carpet.

‘Come on, let’s go, Pip,’ Lysander said, pulling Oisín up.

It was remarkable how quickly you could travel from somewhere extremely dangerous to the safest place in the world. Just a few minutes after he had been surrounded by shadows and menacing trees, Oisín was lying down on a fluffy silver cloud. Ben was steering with his calculator while the other Quints lounged in the folds of the cloud, having a picnic of silver grapes and apples.

Yet Oisín couldn’t quite shake off the elk’s warning. There were different kinds of danger. There was one kind that he was getting used to, the kind when shadow-fish tried to drown you or snow-snakes tried to strangle you. But there was another kind of danger, something to do with people, that Oisín found much harder to identify. He could feel something in the air, the same kind of heaviness as when his parents pretended to be polite at dinner after an argument. The Quints were offering each other moonmead and silver apples instead of salt and pepper, but there was the same tension, the same danger.

‘Drink this,’ Cassandra Quicksilver said, handing him a glass of shimmering silver liquid. ‘It’s moonjuice. It will make you feel better,’ she said, seeing him hesitate.

Oisín tipped the liquid to his lips. It was delicious, as if light was pulsing through his body.

‘You’re lucky we were so close by when we heard you’d gone missing,’ Lysander said. ‘The moonlight picnic is a Quint tradition. You’ll get to travel back to Eachtra in style. Moonsmoke?’

‘He’s only twelve,’ Cassandra said as Lysander held out a jar of swirling silver smoke.

Lysander laughed and threw Oisín a silver grape instead. Like the moonjuice, it tasted sweet and fresh, but there was something about it that made Oisín feel slightly sick.

‘So what’s a moonlight picnic?’ Oisín asked.

‘A time to contemplate the mysteries of the universe,’ Lysander said, sounding as if he was channelling Madame Q.

Lysander stretched back as if he were on a beanbag and made patterns in the moonsmoke with Raqib and Ben. Brad played with some of his gadgets, seemingly uninterested in the mystery of moonlight. Cassandra turned her telescope to the stars, frowning whenever she looked down. Oisín felt as if he had been invited to a party so exclusive that nobody was having any fun. He concentrated on the empty goblets in front of him, which were slowly being filled with clear bright liquid.

‘So is that what Quints do? Collect moonlight?’

‘Quintessence is much more complicated than that, Pip,’ Lysander scoffed. ‘It allows geniuses to pursue any idea to its edge.’

He swirled the tumbler of silver smoke he was holding and took a sip.

‘Raqib is one of the finest magical chemists in the Himalayas,’ Lysander said.

‘The finest,’ Raqib said, adding a tiny silver spice to the large jar of moonsmoke.

Lysander walked over to Cassandra.

‘My sister likes to read the stars.’

‘Not that anybody listens to me,’ Cassandra said softly.

Lysander ignored her and stood between the Washington brothers.

‘And then our twins. One who can do things with magical mathematics that would make your head spin. And one who makes the rest of us feel smarter. Nice of your parents to buy you so many toys but shame your croíacht doesn’t work. What does your baseball actually do? Does it even bounce?’

Brad sprang to his feet and glared at Lysander.

‘And what’s your speciality? Theft?’

Oisín saw the guilt in Lysander’s face. The realisation hit him like cold water. All this time and he hadn’t even noticed. Lysander pulled out the Book of Magic, as if the back pocket of his trousers were the most natural place for it to be.

‘You’re talking about this?’ Lysander said innocently. ‘It dropped onto the ground. I was just minding it.’

‘Then give it back,’ Brad said, grabbing Lysander by the scruff of his shirt.

Raqib parted the two before they crashed into his jars of moonsmoke.

‘Here you go, Pip,’ Lysander said, skidding the Book of Magic across the cloud and glaring at Brad.

Oisín caught it just before it reached the edge of the cloud. He couldn’t believe that he had almost left it behind. It might have stayed deep in the shadows if Lysander hadn’t picked it up, just as Mrs Fitzfeather had suggested. Would they all be better off without it? Oisín imagined it falling into the depths of the Enchanted Forest below. It would be so easy to make it disappear, covered in snow in seconds.

‘We’re here,’ Ben said, putting away his calculator.

Oisín was startled to find that their cloud had reached the twisting silver tower on Eachtra’s stern. Madame Q stood waiting for them in her study at the top, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

‘I should take this squirt to the library,’ Lysander said as they stepped off the cloud and into Madame Q’s study. He seemed to be eager to avoid any conversation about what had happened with the Book.

‘I can take the kid,’ Brad Washington said quickly. ‘Come on, little man, want a ride on my skateboard?’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Madame Q said with a clap of her hands. ‘Quints, you have a lot of work to do before the moon wanes. I can look after Mr Keane myself.’

Neither Brad nor Lysander looked very happy about this, but they shuffled out of the study with the rest of the Quints. Oisín was alone with Madame Q for the first time. Her study was full of interesting objects – charts of the planets, whirring telescopes, a strange clock that ticked backwards – but Oisín’s attention was directed elsewhere. It was hard not to look at Madame Q as she stared at the Book of Magic, which was sticking out of his hoodie pocket. It was a little difficult to see, as the only light came from a giant skylight in the roof of the study. Even in the moonlight, though, there was no mistaking what happened as Madame Q looked at the Book: a raven landed on the skylight, the temperature dropped several degrees and her silver eyes flashed a shade of green that Oisín had only seen once before.