‘What do you mean, no castle?’ Fergus cried. ‘The castle’s the whole point!’
‘There is no castle on the Isle of Nish,’ Jesse repeated. ‘There never has been. We’re in the wrong place.’
They both looked, rather accusingly, at Alice.
No castle! Alice’s world had flipped again, but somehow was still not the right way up. No castle made no sense! Feverishly, she went over all the steps that had led her here – the research in the library, Barney’s letter, so cryptic, so short – could she have misunderstood it? But what other island could it be? There had been only one conversation about Scotland, she was sure of it … she thought …
‘Th-there must be a c-castle,’ she stammered. ‘Dad said!’
‘What,’ said Fergus, nastily. ‘The same dad who …’
‘Shut up, Fergus!’ It came out as a shriek, surprising them all.
‘Who what?’ asked Jesse, looking slowly from Alice to Fergus. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Alice will tell you,’ snarled Fergus.
At first, Alice thought she couldn’t do it. Jesse, whom she had all but tricked into coming – who had, she supposed, trusted her, as she had trusted Barney – how could she tell him that her father was a thief? That the danger they faced was much, much graver than any Consequence the major might issue for what now seemed like a silly schoolish prank?
But fears, as the major would say, must be faced. And so the children sat on the ground, and Alice produced the little statue from her rucksack, and told Jesse everything and afterwards they carried on sitting, looking down towards the wooden jetty, and the boat anchored in the harbour, and nobody knew quite what to say because this was not a situation life really prepares you for.
Once the first shock was passed, Jesse tried to be practical. Like Fergus, his first thought was to go to the police. If this Leopard woman was after them, they were in danger, he said. This was a woman who attacked people – maybe even ate them! And those men on the quay had looked mean. Inwardly, he felt bewildered – an invaluable Chinese artefact? An infamous cat burglar? Alice’s dad somehow involved? Jesse, unlike Fergus, had never questioned Alice’s claims about her father. He had believed he was an up-and-coming actor. He had even believed he was interested in birds. He was disappointed too, as well as shocked, because even though he hadn’t asked for it, he was loving their adventure, and for it to end like this was … sad. Knights and heroes, he suspected, would not go running to the police, or surrender priceless treasures so easily. But those were knights, with swords and armour and horses, whereas he and Alice and Fergus were children. He gave one regretful look at the unclimbed cliff, the unexplored island, and stood up.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’ll go back to the boat. We’ll be safe there.’
He held out his hand. Alice stood, meekly, and took it. Sighing, she turned, and followed him back down the hill.
Fergus could take it no more. Seeing Alice like this! So dejected, and small – his Alice, who he had seen stand with her arms outstretched to the sky on a roof! Who rowed out into the middle of lochs and let off fireworks, who could make Fergus’s blood freeze with the telling of a simple story she made up in her head! Barney Mistlethwaite was a crook, he thought furiously. He didn’t deserve a daughter like Alice, and he, Fergus Mackenzie, wanted to look him in the eye and tell him so.
‘Stop!’ he shouted. ‘We’re going on!’
The others turned, and stared uncomprehendingly.
‘But there isn’t even a castle!’ Alice said.
‘There’s always a castle. You just have to look for it.’
‘And what about the Leopard?’ Jesse cried.
Fergus spun round, arms wide, palms towards the sky. ‘Look around you, my friend – there are no leopards in Scotland!’
‘But it’s dangerous!’
‘Do you want an adventure, or not?’ Fergus shouted. ‘Come on, Jesse! Call yourself an explorer? This is for Alice! It’s important!’
As he turned to face the cliff, he told himself that this was possibly the most stupid thing he had ever done.
*
Were they brave, or just reckless? Alice wasn’t sure. She only knew, as she trudged up the path after Fergus to the top of the cliff, that she was afraid. What if the Leopard woman found them? What if Barney wasn’t here? What if – this was confusing – he was here? What would she say to him? Climbing behind her, Jesse tried to focus only on logistics – the boat that left in an hour – the rising tide and the line they must not cross – the castle that did not exist!
Fergus thought nothing, but marched to the rhythm of his rage.
As the dirt path turned to stone, and the stone path turned to steps carved out of rock, and the world was reduced to black walls and the bright blue sky above, Jesse’s heart began to beat a little faster with almost unbearable curiosity. Fergus’s rage settled into something more like determination.
Alice’s fear remained.
They emerged from their climb on to a kind of plateau, with sheer drops on either side. To the right, a short distance away, the rest of the boat party sat strung along the cliff, looking out to sea, like sentinels of nowhere.
‘What are they doing?’ asked Jesse.
‘Watching for birds, I guess,’ said Fergus. ‘That is the main point of this trip, for most people.’
‘But why are they all exactly here?’
The Australian raised his camera, and they heard a whirr of clicks. Curious, they approached the edge of the cliff.
Puffins! Puffins everywhere! Puffins waddling like little fat men going to weddings in black and white suits, puffins watching with their heads cocked to the side, puffins performing a sort of aerial ballet, rising and falling over the edge of the cliffs on the thermals. The children stood on the grass at the end of the line of watchers, and Fergus yelped as a bird shot out of the ground between his legs and soared over the edge of the cliff, before diving at breakneck speed straight into the waves below.
Even Alice laughed.
‘What’s it doing underground?’ cried Fergus.
‘It’s where they nest.’ The Australian had wandered over to them with his camera. ‘They spend most of their lives at sea, but come to land to lay their eggs in underground burrows.’
‘That is so cool.’ Fergus knelt on the grass to peer down the burrow. An angry striped beak poked out and squawked at him. ‘So cool.’
It was … joyous. As joyous as the carved Chinese boy, riding his jade dragon. But there was nothing here – not a wall or stone – that once could have been a castle, and the boat left in less than an hour.
‘Come on,’ said Fergus.
The children pressed on.
The Australian with the camera watched them disappear beyond a headland on the end of the plateau. He had a niggling sense that he was missing something. There had been something on the radio this morning, at his hotel. He hadn’t paid attention, but he was almost certain it had something to do with three missing children …