Diana Wynne Jones’s Magic and Myths Collection. Diana Wynne Jones
years. And she had thought it was just life. “I met my dad in the mythosphere,” she said. “Being punished. He looked so tired, Harmony. I wanted to rescue him, but he said only my mum could do that. He thinks she’s in a women’s strand, somewhere wild.”
“Then I think we should do our best to find her,” Harmony said. “We could hardly be in much more trouble now Tollie and Mercer have told Uncle Jolyon about the game. Blast Tollie!”
“That Autolycus,” Troy said gloomily. “He really hates Hayley, doesn’t he? He stole stuff from your father, Hayley, and your father caught him at it. I think that’s why.”
Harmony said, equally gloomily, “I don’t think Tollie needs a reason to do the things he does. So if we look for Merope—”
“I have to have a star off Orion’s bow too,” Hayley said. “Flute said I had to give him one for stealing the apple.”
Troy whistled. Harmony said, “Flute?” with her smooth forehead all wrinkled. Then the wrinkles cleared away and she said, “Oh, you mean one of those two who own the apples?”
Hayley nodded. “They’re twins. They take turns at standing in the sun. I call them Flute and Fiddle, but who are they really, Harmony?”
Harmony looked at Troy, who shook his head, shrugged and said, “No idea.”
“No more have I,” Harmony confessed. “I’ve always called them Yin and Yang, because you have to call them something, and sometimes I wondered if they might be angels, but I really don’t know. And I’ll tell you this, Hayley. They always make you give them a fee for one of the apples, but I’ve never known them ask for anything as important as a star. The most I’ve had to give them is my old flute – or once they asked for the Old Soldier’s violin – but otherwise it’s just a blue bead or a farthing or a shoelace. Nothing really. If they’ve asked for one of Orion’s stars, it must be serious. We’ll look into that. But let’s get back to Merope. What are the women’s strands?”
“Witches,” Troy suggested. “Suffragettes, Amazons, the Pythoness, Saint Ursula?”
“Or all those boring ladies who waited in towers for their prince to come,” Harmony added. “Rapunzel – you know. Oh lord! There’s hundreds! What about that girl who went about making prophecies that no one believed?”
“None of those are wild,” Troy pointed out. “Go back to witches.”
“There are thousands of those,” Harmony said. “And what about Boadicea? Jezebel?”
They were still making suggestions to one another when the plane landed in Edinburgh.
It took ages to get off the plane and into the airport building. Hayley became nervous all over again. There seemed ample time for Uncle Jolyon to pounce on them while they shuffled along to collect their baggage, or while they stood for minute after minute watching the empty luggage carousel go round and round.
“I’ve just thought,” Troy said, as Hayley’s duffel bag pushed the flaps aside and toppled on to the metal surface. “Uncle Jolyon knows where we’re going. What’s to stop him marching in on Mother and simply waiting for us at home?”
“I’m hoping,” Harmony said, as her bag, followed by Troy’s backpack, flopped out on to the carousel as well, “that it’ll take him more than these two days to realise that. He’s quite slow-witted, you know. Grab those, Troy, and let’s get going.”
Hayley followed them out through the building, fatalistically expecting Uncle Jolyon to be waiting outside for them. But the only person there was Aunt Ellie. Hayley would have known who she was, even without the way the other two dropped their bags and flung their arms round her. Aunt Ellie looked like Aunt May gone respectable.
“Mother!” Harmony cried out, nestling her smooth dark head against Aunt Ellie’s carefully curled grey one.
“Good to see you, Mum!” Troy said, wrapping his arms around her neat grey suit. “This is Hayley. Hayley, meet my mother, Electra.”
Just like Aunt May, Aunt Ellie dived forward and hugged Hayley. “My dear,” she said. She sounded very Scottish. “I’m so glad you’re here! Come along, all of you. The car’s away over there, and you wouldn’t believe how much it costs to park in this place, so please hurry. Besides, your Aunt Aster’s waiting in it.”
Harmony and Troy both groaned.
“I know, I know,” Aunt Ellie said, hurrying them across the road. “I had to bring Aster. Jolyon said I wasn’t to let her out of my sight. She’s gone and formed a most unfortunate attachment to a great rough Highlander – at her time of life, I ask you! Even if Jolyon hadn’t told me to keep them apart, I would have put my foot down about it. The whole town’s talking. To think of my sister causing all this scandal – it keeps me awake at nights! The man haunts the place!”
“Who is he?” Troy asked, trying to hitch the duffel bag on his shoulder alongside his backpack.
“The Lorrd knows!” said his mother, more Scottish than ever. “I think him to be some gamekeeper from one of those shooting preserves in the North. He carries a gun. Eats with his knife! Jolyon thinks him unspeakable.”
“Was Uncle Jolyon here?” Harmony asked anxiously. “When?”
“Two days ago,” Aunt Ellie said. “He seemed to think young Hayley was with me.” At this, Troy and Harmony exchanged pleased, relieved smiles. “Hayley, what have you done to put Jolyon in this terrible mood?”
“I think,” Hayley said timidly, “I wasn’t supposed to have gone to Ireland.”
“Now that is unreasonable of Jolyon,” Aunt Ellie said. “Why ever not, you poor child?”
They had by then arrived beside a neat grey car.
Aunt Ellie bent down and shouted through its window at the dim figure sitting in the back seat. “Aster! Hayley’s here! Open this window and say hallo to her. Asterope! Do you hear me?”
The window went down to reveal a pale faced little lady with a fluffy mass of faded fair hair. She fixed washed-out blue eyes on Hayley and quavered, “Pleased to meet you, Hayley. Your hair is very untidy.”
Hayley stared at her. It was quite impossible to believe that this faded-out little woman could cause great rough Highlanders to haunt her. It just did not seem likely. “How do you do, Aunt Aster?” she said politely.
“Oh, not so bad,” Aunt Aster quavered. “I’m a poor traveller, you know, and Electra does drive so dangerously.”
When Troy had slung the bags into the boot and climbed into the back seat beside Hayley, and Harmony had settled in the front, the car set off so sedately that Hayley knew Aunt Aster had been talking nonsense. Aunt Ellie must have been one of the world’s most cautious drivers. But Aunt Aster continued to talk nonsense. While they drove through the city, she kept quavering, “There’s a red light on the other road, Electra. You have to stop.” And when at last they came out into the country, she quavered, “Not so fast, Electra! You’re doing nearly thirty!” or “There’s a car coming, Electra. It’s going to hit us. Stop until it’s gone by!” or “Electra, here’s a bus!”
Aunt Ellie took no notice and drove slowly on – although once or twice Hayley distinctly heard her mutter, “Silly bizzom!” – while the countryside became more and more beautiful around them. First it was sloping green fields with blue hills above, and then it was real mountains. Hayley leant forward to look at a long narrow loch surrounded in pine trees, among great brown and purple mountains swathed in drifting cloud. Whereupon Aunt Aster quavered, “Sit back, poor child. You’ll get hurt if we stop.”
Troy whispered into Hayley’s other ear, “Isn’t she a pain?”
Hayley said, “This country’s lovely!”