Read Online The Boggart and the Monster by Susan Cooper - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Cooper
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Maconochie in their tents. The clouds blew apart a little, to show a gleaming sliver of moon, and two of the bright stars of the Plough. The Boggart sighed, heartrendingly, and from a scrub oak nearby a barn owl hooted to him in reply. The clouds drifted over the moon again, and the night was dark.
Down through the gap left open at the top of the window, the Boggart poured himself like water into the back of the Range Rover, where the two boys lay wrapped in their sleeping bags, two cloth-covered cocoons. He hovered over them, feeling a great longing to share the troublesome mixture of emotion that was whirling through him: the worries, the love of kin, the memories that came so seldom but would not now go away. His thoughts flew into and through Tommyâs sleeping mind, like music waiting to be heard. But Tommy was dreaming of Emily, dancing a Scottish reel with her in his sleep, and could not hear him.
The Boggart too thought of Emily, but Emily was out in that difficult orange mushroom of a tent, which he had sworn not to go near. So instead he hovered over the head he had felt was least likely to pick up his plaintive signals: the head of Jessup, whose rational brilliance was quite likely to provide a barrier to the flickering whispers of an Old Thing.
But there was no barrier. And Jessup began to dream.
He was an observer, in his dream, suspended somehow in the air, over the waves of Loch Linnhe. He wasfar in the past, he knew, for even though this was certainly Loch Linnhe, backed by the outline of Lismore Island and the faint blue hills of the Isle of Mull, there was no sign of Castle Keep. There was only the bare rock on which, in the thirteenth century, the castle would be built. Grass and some scrubby bushes grew on the rock, and the waves lapped its edges â and in the waves, two glowing formless creatures magically played.
Smiling in his dream, Jessup watched the flicker and flash of light as the creatures twisted and danced in the water, and he knew that they were boggarts. He had seen that kind of wonderful iridescence only once in his life, when the Boggart had shown himself to them in the MacDevonâs library. As he watched, the boggarts darted through the waves to the Seal Rocks, and the grey seals, looking just as they did in the present day, splashed into the water and joined the swift, playful game that was a dance. Dreaming, Jessup knew that this was a dream, and longed for it not to end.
He saw Castle Keep then, rearing up on the rock, its stones magically bright and new-cut as they were when it was first built. He found himself inside the castle, its walls hung with tapestries and lit by smoking torches, and he saw human figures, though only vaguely, and knew that the Boggart was there, attached to Castle Keep now, playing his tricks. These people must be the first MacDevons, the beginning of the family with which the Boggart had lived for so many centuries, in this one home. He wondered where the other boggart had gone.
And the instant that the thought came into his sleeping head, he found himself on the ramparts of another castle, bigger and more elaborate, overlooking a loch and forested mountains. Beside him he saw two children, younger than himself, laughing as water poured into a bowl from a jug held by disembodied hands â and he knew that this was the place to which the other boggart had attached himself, and this the family. Looking out across the water, he realized that the loch was Loch Ness. So the castle must be Castle Urquhart, which he in the twentieth century had seen only as a ruin of tumbled stones and grass.
Jessup was overwhelmed by an immensely strong sense of home, of belonging, and knew that he was feeling what the two boggarts felt for their respective castles and people, through the years. He saw the passing of the centuries, as if pages were flicking before him and carrying the castle with them; he saw other children, in other times, and saw the Loch Ness
Down through the gap left open at the top of the window, the Boggart poured himself like water into the back of the Range Rover, where the two boys lay wrapped in their sleeping bags, two cloth-covered cocoons. He hovered over them, feeling a great longing to share the troublesome mixture of emotion that was whirling through him: the worries, the love of kin, the memories that came so seldom but would not now go away. His thoughts flew into and through Tommyâs sleeping mind, like music waiting to be heard. But Tommy was dreaming of Emily, dancing a Scottish reel with her in his sleep, and could not hear him.
The Boggart too thought of Emily, but Emily was out in that difficult orange mushroom of a tent, which he had sworn not to go near. So instead he hovered over the head he had felt was least likely to pick up his plaintive signals: the head of Jessup, whose rational brilliance was quite likely to provide a barrier to the flickering whispers of an Old Thing.
But there was no barrier. And Jessup began to dream.
He was an observer, in his dream, suspended somehow in the air, over the waves of Loch Linnhe. He wasfar in the past, he knew, for even though this was certainly Loch Linnhe, backed by the outline of Lismore Island and the faint blue hills of the Isle of Mull, there was no sign of Castle Keep. There was only the bare rock on which, in the thirteenth century, the castle would be built. Grass and some scrubby bushes grew on the rock, and the waves lapped its edges â and in the waves, two glowing formless creatures magically played.
Smiling in his dream, Jessup watched the flicker and flash of light as the creatures twisted and danced in the water, and he knew that they were boggarts. He had seen that kind of wonderful iridescence only once in his life, when the Boggart had shown himself to them in the MacDevonâs library. As he watched, the boggarts darted through the waves to the Seal Rocks, and the grey seals, looking just as they did in the present day, splashed into the water and joined the swift, playful game that was a dance. Dreaming, Jessup knew that this was a dream, and longed for it not to end.
He saw Castle Keep then, rearing up on the rock, its stones magically bright and new-cut as they were when it was first built. He found himself inside the castle, its walls hung with tapestries and lit by smoking torches, and he saw human figures, though only vaguely, and knew that the Boggart was there, attached to Castle Keep now, playing his tricks. These people must be the first MacDevons, the beginning of the family with which the Boggart had lived for so many centuries, in this one home. He wondered where the other boggart had gone.
And the instant that the thought came into his sleeping head, he found himself on the ramparts of another castle, bigger and more elaborate, overlooking a loch and forested mountains. Beside him he saw two children, younger than himself, laughing as water poured into a bowl from a jug held by disembodied hands â and he knew that this was the place to which the other boggart had attached himself, and this the family. Looking out across the water, he realized that the loch was Loch Ness. So the castle must be Castle Urquhart, which he in the twentieth century had seen only as a ruin of tumbled stones and grass.
Jessup was overwhelmed by an immensely strong sense of home, of belonging, and knew that he was feeling what the two boggarts felt for their respective castles and people, through the years. He saw the passing of the centuries, as if pages were flicking before him and carrying the castle with them; he saw other children, in other times, and saw the Loch Ness
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