Degsey was totally focussed. Her gaze was fixed on the distant fire coming from the large mammal house. She flattened her body against the ground, the muscles of her hindquarters as taut as springs.
`She's going to help.' Jonathan's blue eyes twinkled with anticipation. `Just watch her - this will be awesome!'
Spring was about to agree when Degsey shot forward like an Olympic sprinter leaving the starting blocks. Her pace was blistering. She crossed the courtyard, dodged round a wheelbarrow, and skirted the isolation shed as she homed in on the large mammal house.
Sky and Daniel were both kicking at the door when a blurred streak of white and brindle slashed past their eyes. Degsey had leapt at waist height between their two bodies sending splinters and black dust in all directions. Somehow she had shrunk her body and limbs into an arrow-like missile and her muscular power took her through the door's ragged hole with unstoppable force.
`Holy Moley!' Daniel gasped. He felt as if his arm had been stroked by sandpaper as it was caught briefly by Degsey's tongue, lolling from the side of her mouth.
`What on earth...!' Sky frowned her confusion as the whoosh of air from Degsey's huge leap touched her face.
The greyhound landed safely but awkwardly as her paws wrestled for a grip on the wet, foam-flooded floor. She skidded across the tiles and came to a shuddering halt as she collided with Shack's body.
`Ouch!' He gave a tight little murmur, somewhere between a cry and a gulp of surprise. `Degsey! What the hell are you doing here? This place is dangerous, girl... so leave while you can. Go back... Go back!'
Degsey's eyes, huge and entrancing held his gaze. There were sparks behind him and orange tongues of flame still spurted downwards from the ceiling. Shack could see the fire and his own face mirrored in her dark brown eyes. Her stare was slightly hypnotic causing him to blink rapidly, trying to clear his mind of the reflected images.
The air was turning grey as smoke swirled around the greyhound. She padded past the transporting cages, taking in everything and missing nothing. She walked towards the animal kitchen where the fire was at its greatest and jumped onto a cabinet that had come loose from a wall.
Shack craned his neck in an effort to glimpse Degsey's movements - then wished he hadn't. Hot fiery little blobs of tar still rained down from the ceiling and several landed between his tattooed shoulder-blades, causing him to bite hard into his bottom lip. His eyes burned from smoke and tears as he used the strength in his arms to lever himself into a sitting position.
Degsey now lay flat on the cabinet. She was unmoving, paws dangling over one end, long tail hanging over the other. She looked like a waxwork statue - until her bottom jaw started to tremble and slowly drop. A minute stretched into two and then the flesh of her muzzle began to rumple, quiver, and draw back exposing the shiny pinkness of her gums and her golden canine tooth.
Shack watched, feeling sweat run down the back of his neck to his shoulders. He shivered. He wasn't nervous for his safety, just unsure about the mysterious thoughts going through the dog's mind. There was nothing vicious or menacing in the look she was giving him. Her previous gypsy owner had always referred to it as a “mystical smile” and that was as good a description as any. He'd seen it many times in the past - and knew it was capable of bringing about extraordinary happenings.
His gaze never wavered as he saw her turn her face towards the heart of the fire. The kitchen was the most dangerous place to be but he realised that her actions were totally planned as he watched her seeking out the brightest patch of flame.
Suddenly a finger of fire licked so close to the tooth that it made it glint like sunlight striking the edge of a knife. It shone with such brightness that Shack immediately covered his eyes with a forearm. He sat there, listening - hearing the crackle of wood and the small, tiny explosions of sparks; but these sounds gradually lessened.
He was unmoving, counting his heartbeats. He'd reached thirty-five when he let his forearm slowly drop and opened his eyes. For an instant there was a moment of unreality, a sense that he was in a different place at a different time. There was no smoke, no fire, no burning embers. Every flame had been extinguished and for the first time he could actually breathe clean air. His head spun with a rush of oxygen as he climbed shakily to his feet, clutching at the bars of the mammal house cages to steady himself.
He blinked eyes that were gritty with dust as an image of Degsey came swimming into view. Uncannily, one tiny pocket of fire was still burning in the kitchen - something she needed, he imagined, to keep the shimmer of gypsy gold alive. Today was murky and overcast so there was no natural sunlight to energise the tooth. The power or force was directly connected to the greyhound's thoughts - and this made things happen as the tooth acted as a magical link…