by Vashti Hardy
He suddenly felt bad. Here he was trying to make sense of things for himself, when Harriet was facing a heritage that up until a week ago, she hadn’t known existed. And she’d just lost a friend who had held her in his arms when she was a baby.
Harriet gazed out across the plateau. There was still a peacefulness about her, despite everything they’d all been through, and she still had that look of strength, of knowing who she was and what she stood for.
“I’m so sorry about Welby,” he said.
She smiled at him. “Thank you. He was very fond of you, you know.”
“I know,” he said softly.
CHAPTER 34
A SECRET WORTH KEEPING
The next day, Harriet and Felicity went with the Erytheans to collect the Aurora. Satisfied from the previous storm, the darkwhispers remained peacefully on their rocky crags, but the fire-bird flew above them regardless. They mended the propeller and succeeded in getting lift-off, flying back to the mainland of Erythea. Repairs recommenced, and the following morning they prepared to set sail for home.
Tauria, Cassea and Florian came to see them off. They settled memory-less Eudora and her crew on to the Aurora and told them they were heading back home, although none of them were entirely sure where that was.
Maudie stood facing Florian.
“I’ve arranged for Ermitage Wrigglesworth to stay in the treetop town so that I can keep an eye out for him along with my sister,” he said.
“That’s kind of you, I’ll let the others know.” She stepped a little closer. “Thank you for everything, and I’m sorry I was … well, you know, a bit dismissive when I first met you.”
He smiled, green eyes sparkling. “Maybe one day you can come back?”
“Maybe one day you can come to Lontown.”
Florian glanced at Tauria, who was talking with Harriet. “I would like that,” he whispered.
“Do you think they’ll change their minds about the secrecy code?”
He shrugged sadly and looked at the ground. “I will miss you, Maudie Brightstorm.”
She felt a strange pulling in her chest. “And I’ll—”
Arthur, who was helping Felicity load a last few supplies that the Erytheans had gifted them, looked over and coughed loudly. “Do you think you could help with this last crate?”
“Er, yes,” said Maudie quickly. She took her ribbon from her hair and pressed it into Florian’s hand. “Now you’ll have to come to Lontown one day to return it.” She hurried away.
Harriet turned to Tauria and Cassea. “If you ever need help from us, you need only ask. And if things change, you will always be welcome to visit us in Lontown.”
Tauria dipped her head in thanks.
“Time to go,” said Harriet.
“One last thing,” said Tauria.
She handed them each a fire-bird ring.
“Our secret is in your hands.”
“We respect your wishes and we won’t let you down,” Harriet said solemnly.
When Maudie tried to put the water-bear down, he whimpered. “I can’t take you back; you’re too different, and it’ll look suspicious. We have to keep the secret.”
Tauria smiled and winked. “I’m sure you can come up with something. A new species on Nova, perhaps?”
Valiant took her hand and made the action for yes. Maudie’s face exploded with a grin.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself a sapient friend, Maud!” Arthur said.
“Speaking of sapients, poor Queenie will be worried, and so will the rest of the crew. Let’s get going,” said Harriet.
With one last look back at the emerald landscape of Erythea, the city of Tempestra a tiny spec in the distance atop a glistening plateau, they waved to Tauria, Cassea and Florian, then took to their posts and fired the engines.
Under the protection of the fire-bird, the Aurora sailed past the darkwhispers, and they continued back to Nova without it. Within three days they were reunited with the rest of the crew. They didn’t reveal the secrets of Erythea, not even to the rest of the crew, although Gilly kept glancing at Maudie and the water-bear with a knowing smile. Harriet told them that they found the Aurora nearly sinking in the sea with the Vane crew dehydrated and suffering mental strain with a suspected permanent damage, and that Welby had lost his life saving them. They left it in Gallus’s hands to dispose of the Victorious in whatever way he saw fit and set off again.
As they journeyed home, the shock of losing Welby weighed heavily within the sky-ship. Arthur kept expecting him to appear in the doorway, looking at him from under his judging eyebrows. But the Vane crew kept them busy, mostly with endless questions as they all tried to figure out what they were doing in a sky-ship above the Stella Oceanus.
Weeks later they arrived back in Lontown. Eudora Vane and her crew were taken into the care of the Geographical Society’s hospital. Harriet and her crew met with the Society and gave their account of what had happened, confirming that Ermitage Wrigglesworth had lost his life at sea outside Nova.
After that, they went to Octavie’s house. She apologized for not being able to tell them the full story about Erythea, but she was incredibly relieved that they had been allowed to return and share in the secret with her.
“Part of me hoped you would find Erythea when I gave you the ring. I couldn’t say, of course, because it would’ve broken the Erythean secrecy code, but I suspected that Ermitage had found a way. I didn’t want to lead you to danger, but I knew that the fire-bird would watch over you. What I didn’t suspect is that that Vane woman would do what she did.”
“No one seems to be able to predict the lengths she will go to,” Harriet sighed.
“At least it’s safe now that she’s lost a great chunk of her memory,” said Maudie.
“We’ll have to keep checking on her and the others to be sure,” said Arthur.
“Hello. You’re the nice children who helped me, aren’t you?” Eudora said, sitting forward and running her hands over her pink satin eiderdown. Eudora’s room in the Geographical Society Hospital had high ceilings and crisp, white walls. “How wonderful. Are your parents with you?” She tilted her head as though expecting more visitors to appear behind them.
A knot yanked tightly in their stomachs, and Arthur bit his tongue for fear of what might come out. He saw Maudie’s fist clench and he put a hand on her arm. He told himself for the umpteenth chime that this wasn’t the same Eudora. She had no memory of what she’d done to their father.
“No, they’re not with us,” he said.
“Pity. I would have liked to have thanked them.” She smiled sweetly. “I’m an explorer!” Then she whispered, “And this strange insect seems to follow me everywhere.” She nodded to the windowsill, where Miptera sat quietly gnashing her mandibles. “I think she belongs to me. She’s on my tattoo, would you like to see?”
She lifted up her sleeve before they had a chance to answer. “Isn’t it glorious?”
Then she sat back. “It’s strange, though – I still don’t know what I was doing in the Eastern Isles.”
Arthur and Maudie exchanged an awkward glance.
“We’d better be going,” Maudie said.
“But you’ve only just got here. I’d love to find out more about you.”
“You must be tired, and we’ve got to, er … to do some studying and … stuff. Maybe another time.”
They stood up and hurried towards the door.
“Come again,” Eudora called.
Under her breath Maudie said, “Not likely.”
Arthur glanced back at Eudora. She smiled sweetly.
Then she winked.
He blinked. Was it just a twitch of her eyes? Was he seeing things? Yet there was something in her smile that unnerved him. He looked back again.
“Yes, do come again,” she said, and once more her smile unsettled him.
The door clicked shut behind them.
He shook his head as though to get rid of the thought.
“Are
you all right, Arty?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Let’s go home.”
As they rounded the corner they jolted to a stop; Thaddeus Vane was walking up the stairs towards them, his footsteps acute on the marble steps. He paused and rested his hands on his diamond-topped cane, and looked first at Maudie, then at Arthur with his razor-sharp glare. He was lower down in the stairwell yet seemed to rise above them and fill the space. His eyes were probing and Arthur felt utterly transparent, strangely weak in the presence of this immaculate man.
“The twins,” Thaddeus said, matter of factly, but there was meaning in there too, as though he was contemplating. Arthur wished he could work it out, but instead he took Maudie’s arm and swiftly pulled her past Thaddeus Vane and down the staircase.
Harriet and Felicity were waiting for them outside.
“I have some news for you,” Harriet said, handing the twins a thick folder. “Welby was working on this before we left. It’s the reason he kept disappearing off for hours when we were rebuilding the Aurora.”
Arthur felt dreadful, having accused him of sneaking away.
Maudie held the folder and Arthur flipped it open.
“It’s the deeds to Brightstorm House,” Harriet said brightly.
Arthur and Maudie stared, mouths wide. A rush of elation filled them both. Then they glanced at each other, barely able to believe it. Home, Dad’s home, the place they’d grown up and shared so many memories. They both looked back down at the deeds.
Home.
Their eyes met once more, and the question they suddenly both felt was reflected.
“Oh! You don’t have to move out of Archangel Street!” said Harriet quickly.
Felicity’s brow was wrinkled, but she smiled. “That is, if you don’t want to, of course.” Then she spoke in the quietest voice Arthur and Maudie had ever heard her speak in, as though trying to hold something inside that was threatening to burst. “We’ll always be your family, twinnies, wherever you are.”
Arthur pulled Maudie to the side and whispered intently. After a moment she nodded, then began whispering back. They turned to face Harriet and Felicity.
“We’ve made a decision. We’d like to make Brightstorm House a home.”
Harriet and Felicity both nodded solemnly.
“We totally understand—” Harriet started.
“But not a home for us. We’re not sure how, yet, but we’d like to make it somewhere for the homeless children of the Slumps. A safe and warm haven for those who need one.”
Harriet’s mouth dropped open. “Wow … er … that’s pretty incredible!”
Felicity rushed and hugged them so tight that they gasped for breath when she eventually let go.
Harriet kissed them both on the cheek then stepped back. “It won’t be easy. It will need funding. I’m afraid we’ve nothing to show for our expedition, so reserves are rather on the dry side.”
“We’ve thought of that,” said Maudie. “We’ll help fund it with my sky-ak invention.”
Arthur nodded. “And we’re going to…” The sudden tightness in his chest stopped him speaking.
Maudie placed an arm over his shoulders. “We’re going to rename it ‘Welby House’.”
Harriet bit her lip and took several breaths before she spoke again. “Well … you two continue to both surprise and amaze me.”
They turned away from the hospital and began walking down the street.
“It looks like we’ve got some work to do before we set off on our next expedition.”
“Good. My feet could do with a rest,” Felicity said.
“But not too long.” Arthur could already feel the pull in his stomach, the one that wanted him to keep moving, to discover more of the Wide, to discover more of himself.
Harriet squeezed his shoulder. “No. Not too long. Come on. Let’s go home.”
They walked back through the busy Lontown square, everyone rushing about on whatever important business they each had.
“It’s strange,” said Maudie. “All these people in Lontown, totally oblivious to the fact that you-know-what exists.”
Arthur nodded and hooked her arm. “It is. But do you know what? I reckon some secrets are worth keeping.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I’m so thrilled that the Brightstorm Adventures are continuing with Darkwhispers! None of this would be possible without the sterling support of Scholastic and the two most important people in my writing life: editor Linas Alsenas and agent Kate Shaw. What a joy it is to work with such a hugely talented people. Editors can be the silent unsung heroes of the process, but I would shout from the Lontown rooftops that without Linas, these stories wouldn’t be half of what they are, and I am forever grateful to work with such a wondrous, warm, funny, kind, and imaginative human (Jedi-editor)! Thank you for your belief in me and my imagination. Kate Shaw my agent is second-to-none and continues to be my Harriet Culpepper: professional, dependable, insightful, witty and creative. An agent and a friend. Thank you for all your brilliant advice and for being with me for the long-haul.
Thanks to all the wider Scholastic team: the sales team; foreign rights; Pete Matthews for copy-edits along with Emma Jobling; Harriet Dunlea, who is such a star at organising events and promotion; and Kate Graham in marketing, love you two! George Ermos and designer Jamie Gregory have created yet another stunning cover. Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly top the last two! Thank you for your artistic magic, you dream team.
Thank you to the Bounce reps and booksellers with a big hoorah to the marvellous indies (especially Steyning, the Book Nook, Drake, Rogans and Kenilworth). Thank you to Waterstones for getting behind my books, it means so much, especially Fiona at Durham, and Holly at Brighton – powerhouses of book enthusiasm! Book bloggers, librarians and educators are wondrous heroes of the book world and continued thanks for all you do as well as wider organizations for their amazing work, FCBG and Booktrust.
A thought-wolf sized thank you to the original crew teachers for their support and creativity – especially Kate Spurrier and the marvellous Glebies, Ceridwen Eccles, Scott Evans, Wil Baker, Ashley Booth, Ian Hunt, Jane Clapp, Kate Heap, Tami Wylie, Emma B, Ben King, David Keyte, and everyone else! I only have to see the twinkle in the eye of the pupils I visit to know what an amazing difference you are all making. An extra special hoorah for Pie Corbett, our sky-ship’s poet – thank you, Pie, for embracing the Brightstorm world, it means so much.
Thanks to my family and friends for allowing me to disappear into my story worlds for weeks on end (again!). Continued hugs to my partners in writing adventures and super-chums James Nicol and Lorraine Gregory for always bringing the sparkle and hugs, and to all fellow writer friends – keep doing your magical thing.
Lastly, as always, my thanks to the lovely young readers who have become part of the Brightstorm crew – it’s great to have you on board for another adventure! Dream BIG – your imagination is limitless. You know you’re all hired, right?
Vashti Hardy is the author of Brightstorm and Wildspark. Brightstorm has been translated into several languages, was selected for Independent Booksellers Book of the Season and Primary School Book Club Reads, won the West Sussex Children’s Story Book Award and was shortlisted for the Waterstones Children’s Book Prize, Books are My Bag Awards and Leeds Book Award. Wildspark has been shortlisted for the Blue Peter Book Awards Best Story 2020.
vashtihardy.com
Twitter @vashti_hardy
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Read on for an extract…
THE STRANGER
On the bright side of the valley, ten furrows from Lane End and some twenty furlongs from the village of North Owlcot, in a place where the great metal city of Medlock was just a dream, there was a small farm. The farmhouse was a time-worn cottage nestled in barley-swathed fields divided by drystone walls. Wayward geese busied themselves near the pond and sheep grazed around single-standi
ng oak trees. Automaton farmers sowed seeds, while scarebots kept the crows at bay.
Prue watched from the upper field, her elbows perched on the back of a broken mechanimal plough horse, oily hands clasped together, as a speck of a figure wound his way up the lane. Even from this distance, Prue could see there was a smart uprightness to the stranger’s walk unlike anyone she knew from the surrounding farms. As he neared, he paused and looked into the lower field where the automated potato digger ambled through the furrows, and Bess, one of the mechanimal dogs, patrolled, waiting to be called for evening herding. After a few moments, the stranger continued onwards and took the path towards the farm. When he turned, he looked up in Prue’s direction. She ducked behind the mechanimal horse, which in retrospect was pointless because she was certain he’d already seen her.
A sudden ping, followed by the squeak of metal, drew Prue’s attention to the ground in front of her.
“Darn it!” she said as the hoppity wrench sprang merrily down the hill. Barley whipped her calves as she chased after it, its little steel jaws bobbing up above the golden tops before disappearing again. “Come back here, you little metallic monster!” She dived and wrestled with it for a moment, as it battled to jump away. This particular hoppity wrench not only seemed to have a loose restrainer, but a faulty homing device; it should’ve been able to make its own way back to the tool shed, but she had often found it hopping its way down the lane towards North Owlcot. Francis had tried to fix it last year, but he said some things just didn’t want to be fixed.
She breathed out heavily and clipped the loose restrainer back in. “There.” It bobbed its legs for a few moments, then gave up trying. When she peered above the barley, the stranger was nearly at the farm doorstep. Prue hurried downhill, through the tracks towards the house, keeping out of sight by stooping low, the hoppity wrench clamped firmly under her arm. She slowed her pace as she approached, then, after another quick peek to make sure the stranger wasn’t looking, she hurried behind the water butt which was beside the farmhouse, close to the door. There was a sharp knock. After a few moments the door creaked open.
