by Emily Rodda
The Wizard of
Rondo
Emily Rodda
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
1. The Music Box
2. Changes
3. Trouble at the Black Sheep
4. A Very Strange Message
5. Conker Loses His Temper
6. Splitting Up
7. The Prisoner
8. A Change of Plan
9. Woffles Way
10. Night Riders
11. Hobnob
12. The Snug
13. Big Mistake
14. Freedom of the Press
15. Bliss
16. The Bathing Party
17. The Ancient One
18. Dangerous Game
19. Gossip in the Square
20. Strawberries and Cream
21. Too Many Suspects
22. Bun the Baker
23. The House of Bing
24. Bings List
25. The Flock of Bing
26. The Deep, Dark Secret
27. Crash Landing
28. A Narrow Escape
29. Picnic
30. Eavesdropping
31. Bertha’s Choice
32. And Then There Was One
33. Night-lights
34. Clouds
35. In Peril
36. Child’s Play
37. Amazing Scenes
38. Revelations
39. Celebrations
40. Farewells
Also by Emily Rodda
Copyright
Chapter 1
The Music Box
Leo Zifkak stood at his desk, staring down at the painted box that had changed his life. A shadowy face stared back at him from the shining black surface of the box’s lid. It was Leo’s reflection, but it seemed to float in darkness far below the mirror-smooth lacquer. It was as if it wasn’t a reflection at all, but the face of a darker and more mysterious Leo enclosed within the box.
Thoughts like this made Leo extremely uncomfortable. Eager to break the illusion, he grabbed the box and lifted it up. The oval silver ring set into the centre of the lid flashed dazzlingly.
Leo jerked back, nearly dropping the box, and instantly felt ashamed. Idiot, he told himself, as his thudding heart slowed. It was just the sun shining through the window above the desk, hitting the silver ring. What’s the matter with you?
But he knew what the matter was. Just over a week ago, his pleasant, ordered, ordinary life had changed. Just over a week ago, the music box that had been a family treasure for hundreds of years had arrived in this house, and taken its place in Leo’s room. Great-Aunt Bethany Langlander had left it to Leo in her will, because she thought that he was the most sensible, the most responsible, of all her great-nephews and great-nieces. She was sure that Leo would look after the music box, and that he would be as careful as she had been to keep the rules laid down by her own Uncle Henry when he had left the box to her.
This time ignoring the flash of the silver ring, Leo lifted the box again and squinted at the yellowed strip of paper stuck to the bottom, just above the key you turned to make the music play. For about the hundredth time, he read the faded words Henry Langlander had written so long ago.
Turn the key three times only.
Never turn the key while the music is playing.
Never pick up the box while the music is playing.
Never close the lid until the music has stopped.
If the rules had been kept – the first rule especially – Leo would never have learned the secret of the music box.
And left to myself, he thought, I’d probably have kept the rules till the day I died, and left the music box to whoever in the family I thought would keep them too. If it hadn’t been for Mimi …
If it hadn’t been for his cousin Mimi – prickly, interesting, infuriating Mimi Langlander …
The sound of voices drifted through his open window. Down below, in the back garden, his parents and four of their oldest friends were sitting around the long table relaxing after their leisurely Sunday lunch. They were waiting for Leo – waiting for him to bring down the music box. And by this time they must be wondering why he was taking so long.
Just get it over with, Leo told himself. It mightn’t be as bad as you think. They might just look at it quickly. They mightn’t ask you to make it play.
Oh, sure. Holding the box gingerly, he left his room, plodded down the short hallway that led past Mimi’s room and the bathroom, and went down the stairs.
His father’s distinctive bark of laughter floated in from the garden, and despite the churning in his stomach Leo had to smile. Tony Zifkak always grumbled about having to entertain, but as soon as the first people arrived he started enjoying himself, and by the end he was the life of the party.
Tony was the one who had heard Leo come into the kitchen after arriving home from his friend Nathan’s house. He was the one who had jovially shouted to Leo to go and get the music box to show to Ana, Peter, Horst and Will.
Leo’s heart had given a peculiar little jump. Excuses had skittered through his mind, every one of them feeble. ‘Okay,’ he’d called back. What else could he do?
‘Suzanne’s old aunt left it to him,’ he’d heard his father say as he left the kitchen. ‘Antique … should be in a museum … extraordinary piece of work …’
Extraordinary isn’t the word for it, Dad, Leo thought now, moving slowly to the back door and feeling as sick as if he were going to his own execution. He looked down at the box clutched in his hands. His dim reflection stared back at him, floating in darkness.
Ana, Peter, Horst and Will called cheery greetings to him as he walked out into the garden and put the music box down on the table. His mother beamed at him as they oohed and aahed, admiring the incredibly detailed paintings that decorated the front, back and sides of the box. Naturally she thought Leo would be as pleased as she was to have the family treasure admired.
She turned the box on its short rounded legs, so that everyone could see the busy town scene at the front, the forest and farms on one side, the rolling green grass and fairytale castle on the back, and the sea and golden sand on the other side.
Leo watched her, his heart in his mouth. But Suzanne didn’t seem to see the hundreds of changes that to him were so very obvious. She didn’t notice that the tall policeman had disappeared from the steps of his police station, for example. Or that a large pink pig wearing a flower-laden hat had moved from the field beside the biggest of the farmhouses on the side of the box to the door of the tavern in the street scene on the front. She didn’t even notice that the proud, blue-gowned queen no longer stood on the drawbridge of her castle.
Maybe Mum’s not expecting changes, so just doesn’t see them, Leo thought. Or maybe she sees them, but just assumes she’s remembering wrongly about the way things were before.
He knew that he would have done the same thing until a week ago. He would have told himself anything rather than believe the evidence of his own eyes, because it was evidence of something that was simply … impossible.
‘Does the music still play?’ asked Horst, and Leo’s heart sank.
‘Oh, yes!’ said Suzanne. ‘Leo?’
Trying to appear unconcerned, Leo lifted the box and turned the key on its base three times.
‘You can only turn the key three times,’ he heard his mother explain. ‘The box is so old and delicate, you see.’
That’s not the reason, Mum, Leo told her silently. He put the box down and opened the lid. The strange, chiming music began. The guests murmured with pleasure. Leo felt his smile grow fixed.
‘It’s beautiful,’ breathed Ana, peering in fascination at the forest scene facing her. ‘I’ve n
ever seen anything like it. The painting is exquisite! So detailed. You can almost see the trees moving in time to the music, can’t you?’
‘When I was little I used to think they did,’ said Suzanne. ‘And I used to think I saw tigers in the shadows – bears as well.’
Tony and Peter laughed indulgently.
Standing there, his stomach in a knot, Leo suddenly wondered what would happen if he said, quite casually, ‘There are tigers and bears in the forest, actually, Mum. And the trees do move. They’re alive. There’s another world inside the music box. It’s called Rondo. Aunt Bethany didn’t know about it, but the Langlanders who owned the box before her used to visit Rondo all the time. Two of them even ended up staying there for good! I know, because a week ago Mimi and I went to Rondo too.’
Would the laughter die straight away? Or would it just trail off, before being replaced by strained smiles, because intelligent, sensible, mature Leo had suddenly stepped out of character to make a rather weak joke?
The music was running down. The adults smiled, pointed, discussed the value of antiques. Leo waited, stiffly smiling.
‘You get in and out of Rondo by using a magic thing called the Key,’ he imagined himself saying conversationally to his father, the scientist. ‘It looks like an ugly old pendant. Aunt Bethany left it to Mimi without knowing what it was. The Key can create things in Rondo – change them and destroy them too. The Blue Queen – the evil queen who lives in the castle on the back of the box – got hold of it once and caused what Rondo people call the Dark Time. So we have to make sure she never gets it again.’
That would go down well with Dad, Leo thought. Next thing I’d be in hospital having blood tests.
The last chime struck. The music box was silent.
Trying not to seem too eager, Leo shut the lid, picked the box up and backed away from the table, mumbling about homework.
‘Thanks for showing it to us, Leo,’ said Will. ‘It’s a treasure.’
Ana, Horst and Peter chorused agreement. Grinning and nodding madly, Leo reached the back door and escaped into the house. The moment he was out of sight he stopped and scanned the box, looking frantically for changes and hoping he wouldn’t find too many.
‘Leo looks more like a Langlander every day, Suzanne,’ he heard Ana murmur.
‘Don’t let him hear you say that,’ his mother said, laughing. ‘Aunt Bethany used to insist he looked exactly like her boring old Uncle Henry. “It’s the eyes,” she used to say. “The steady, responsible eyes.” Poor Leo hated it.’
Yes I did, Leo thought, feeling his face grow hot. I used to wish I looked like Wicked Uncle George instead. And he thought ruefully of George Langlander, whose name in Rondo was ‘Spoiler’, and who was a thief and a cheat.
Now I’d hate to look like him, Leo thought. And I’m glad I look like Uncle Henry – Hal. Hal’s not boring at all. He’s the opposite of boring.
‘Which reminds me – where’s your little house guest?’ he heard Will ask. ‘I thought you had her for a month.’
‘No sooner did Mimi get here than she had to rush off to some week-long music thing,’ Suzanne said. ‘It’s a series of workshops for promising young violinists. That famous violinist – Takeshi Sato – is running it.’
‘Sato!’ Horst exclaimed, obviously impressed.
‘Yes, it’s all quite high-powered,’ Suzanne said. ‘Sato’s keen on encouraging young talent, apparently. The workshop idea was a last-minute thing, tacked onto the end of his tour, and it wasn’t certain Mimi could go. It all depended on whether the organisers could find a host family who’d agree to her having Mutt – that’s her little dog – with her. She wouldn’t go without him.’
‘Ludicrous!’ Leo’s father snorted.
‘She’s a bit insecure, that’s all,’ Suzanne said peaceably. ‘Anyway, someone rang last Sunday night and said it was all fixed, so off she went. Sato had heard a recording of her playing and wanted her in the group, so the organisers moved mountains to make it happen. She’ll be back tonight.’
And about time, Leo thought, slipping out of the kitchen and hurrying to the stairs. The week had seemed like a year to him, though as Mimi’s return drew closer, he was becoming more and more nervous about the confession he was going to have to make to her.
Regaining the safety of his room at last, Leo put the music box on his desk and snatched up the magnifying glass that for the last week had lain on his desktop instead of inside a drawer. His heart beating fast, he peered at the box through the glass.
The town scene on the front looked almost exactly the same as it had before. There was the police station, the art gallery, the bank, the flower stall, the toy factory, the tavern with its sign reading The Black Sheep.
But it wasn’t the same. People had moved or disappeared from sight altogether. Posy the flower-seller was rearranging the flowers in the buckets on her stall, instead of passing a posy of violets to an elderly gentleman in knee-britches. And the pig in the flower-laden hat was no longer at the tavern door, but was standing on the balcony of one of the upstairs rooms.
Why are you in the tavern, Bertha? Leo thought uneasily. Why did you leave the farm? Are you looking for us? I know we promised to come back to Rondo as soon as we could, but Mimi had to go away, and without her …
He heard the doorbell ring at the front of the house. He knew his parents wouldn’t hear it from the garden. He sighed, got up and ran downstairs. He opened the door cautiously, expecting to see the bright smile of someone selling something or wanting to talk to him about religion.
But there on the doorstep, clutching her violin case and her little mustard-coloured dog, and weighed down by a bulky backpack that made her look like a small, skinny tortoise in baggy jeans and sneakers, was Mimi Langlander.
Chapter 2
Changes
Mimi!’ Leo exclaimed, pulling the door wide. ‘What are you doing here? We weren’t expecting you till tonight. Hi, Mutt!’ He put out his hand to the little dog then snatched it back as Mutt gave one of his miniature gargling snarls.
Mimi turned and waved vaguely at the dark blue car idling by the kerb outside the house. The car gave a little toot of acknowledgement and drove away.
‘There was only some stupid farewell party this afternoon,’ Mimi said, staggering into the house and making for the stairs. ‘Sato-san wasn’t staying for it, and there were going to be games. So I told them I wanted to go home, and they got someone to drive me.’
‘Right,’ Leo said, thinking disloyally that the organisers had probably been quite glad to be rid of Mimi, who would have made it very clear that she was not going to be an asset to the jolly event they had planned.
‘A couple of the others left too,’ Mimi snapped, peering up at him from beneath her long fringe as if she’d read his mind. ‘I wasn’t the only one.’
‘Give me your pack,’ said Leo, closing the door behind her. ‘I’ll take it up while you go and tell Mum and Dad you’re home. They’re outside. They’ve got some friends here.’
Mimi wrinkled her nose. ‘I’ll see them later,’ she mumbled. ‘When everyone’s gone.’ Without even pausing to give Leo something to carry, she started toiling up the stairs, bent nearly double.
Leo followed her, determined not to fuss. If she wants to stagger upstairs carrying everything then let her, he thought, knowing full well that half his irritation sprang from the fact that Mimi had come home early, and he would have to admit to a few things sooner than he’d thought.
Mimi swung into the spare bedroom that was hers while her parents were away in Greece. Leo stood at the door and watched silently as she put the violin case down on the desk, dumped the backpack in the middle of the floor, and picked up the white china bowl that Suzanne had provided for Mutt’s water.
‘I’ll do that,’ Leo said. He took the bowl and went to the bathroom to fill it, mentally rehearsing what he would say to Mimi when he got back. Mimi, I wound the music box a few times while you were away, and then just
now Mum made me wind it again, so … Hey, Mimi, you’ll notice that there’ve been a few changes in Rondo since you left, because …
He still hadn’t quite worked out how best to break the news when he returned with the filled water bowl, but as it happened there was no need to say a thing. Mimi was no longer in her room. Uninvited, she had gone into his. Sighing, Leo put the bowl down and went to his door. Still clutching Mutt, Mimi was sitting at his desk, examining the box. She swung round to face him, her eyes accusing.
‘When I left, Bertha was at Macdonald’s farm,’ she snapped. ‘Now she’s in the tavern. And there’s smoke coming out of the Blue Queen’s tower. You’ve been winding the box!’
‘So?’ Leo snapped back, furious at being spoken to like a naughty child however much he might have been expecting it.
She stared at him, her sharp little face tight with anger. ‘When you wind the box, life in Rondo goes on, Leo!’ she hissed.
‘I know that,’ he said coldly. Of course he knew it. In fact, at first that had been the whole point. It had been horrible to think of everyone in Rondo being frozen, of time in Rondo stopping, when the music box ran down. Hal had said that for people in Rondo the pauses were unnoticeable – just the space between one blink and another – but Leo still couldn’t cope with the idea. Thinking about it had made him feel queasy, and so guilty that he’d been compelled to wind the box the day after Mimi left. In fact, it had been all he could do to stop himself closing the lid while the music was still playing, so that life in Rondo could go on and on.
He hadn’t done it. He’d let the music run down. Then it had occurred to him that by examining the changes in the pictures that only seemed noticeable after the music had stopped, he might be able to find out where Spoiler was hiding. Spoiler had broken his agreement with the Blue Queen – tried to get the Key to Rondo for himself. He’d run from the castle afterwards, and disappeared.
But he can’t stay hidden forever, Leo had thought, peering through his magnifying glass at the smooth green grass and the willow trees on the back of the box. He’ll have to move. He’ll need food, and shelter, and money, and for sure he’ll cause trouble trying to get them. I’ve got a bird’s eye view of the whole of Rondo. I should be able to find him. Then I can tell Hal where he is.
