Jungledrop

by Abi Elphinstone

  Fibber nudged his sister with pride. ‘It was mostly Fox. She’s the one who tricked Morg’s Midnights and worked out that the phoenix tear was the pearl all along. She’s the real hero.’

  Fox blushed and Goldpaw laughed at the change in the Faraway children. Then she glanced over at the temple in the middle of the lagoon. ‘There is just one more thing,’ the Lofty Husk said, ‘concerning the rain scrolls. And I wondered whether I could call upon Fibber’s help?’

  Doodler’s Haven was a bustle of activity compared to when the twins had last seen it. Dashers with bulging satchels were hurrying through the tunnel that led from Timbernook to Doodler’s Haven and rushing inside the Bustling Giant. And, within that huge tree, the twins could hear cauldrons hissing and spitting. Perhaps these were the marvels from Rumblestar that the Dunkers were mixing with the dye from the thunderberries, Fox thought. She listened as a gurgling sound bubbled inside the pipes leading into the waterfall, then torrents of ink, every shade of blue, surged out and cascaded down into the lagoon.

  Fibber watched the Doodlers on the temple steps as they dipped little jars into the ink before rushing back to their easels to paint the canvases waiting there.

  ‘They will be on the back foot,’ Goldpaw explained. ‘The best Doodler in the kingdom – Flavia Flickerpaint – was kidnapped by the Midnights and, though she is on her way back here with Deepglint, we cannot delay getting these scrolls painted. The dragons will be here soon and the Faraway needs as many rain scrolls as possible to restore the damage of the drought.’ She turned to Fibber. ‘Deepglint said that you would be a match for Flavia Flickerpaint.’

  Fibber shifted. ‘But I – I’ve never seen a rain scroll before. How will I know if I’m doing it right?’

  ‘There is no right or wrong with painting,’ Goldpaw replied. ‘You just need passion and faith. So paint with everything in you, boy. Paint because your world depends on it.’

  Fibber took a deep breath, then he hurried over the bridge of vines that led to the temple. And it was clear, when he arrived, that the Doodlers were expecting him. One handed him a jar of ink while another led him towards a blank canvas.

  Fox watched from the bank of the lagoon and felt nothing but pride as Fibber painted his scroll. Gone was the jealousy that had mounted over the years. Gone was the panic that usually rode up inside her whenever she saw Fibber excelling at something. Instead, she simply looked on, with Iggy, Heckle and Total Shambles by her side, knowing that Fibber’s rain scroll would be incredible.

  Eventually, the scrolls were finished – a dazzling array of paintings showered in so many shades of blue it was possible to see every kind of rain on the canvas: from the glitter of fine rain to the deluge of a downpour and the mist of a drizzly day. The Doodlers rolled the scrolls up and stamped them shut with wax seals, then they placed them in a large pulley basket that was hoisted across the lagoon and up into the canopy of the Bustling Giant.

  There was a moment of quiet, as if everyone might be waiting for something, then the whoomph of heavy wings, a glimpse of large, curled claws between the branches of the tree, a rustling in the leaves and then, just like that, the rain scrolls were gone – carried off by the dragons to the Faraway.

  Doodler’s Haven erupted into cheers then as Dunkers and Dashers spilled out of the Bustling Giant, Doodlers clapped Fibber on the back and the imprisoned Unmappers and animals came pouring out of the tunnel with Deepglint. And so it was that the kingdom of Jungledrop was brought together again, a jostle of extraordinary animals, magical creatures and Unmappers all wanting to congratulate Fox and Fibber for being the heroes who saved the kingdom.

  Great platters of food arrived with another batch of Unmappers, everything from pyramids of exotic fruit to goblets of juice and chocolate pastry towers, and everyone sat down on the banks of the lagoon and ate. Even a handful of trunklets appeared to join the celebrations and Fox noticed they ate the platters and the goblets as well as the food and drink on offer.

  Doogie Herbalsneeze sat beneath a candletree with the Lofty Husks who, it appeared, were telling jokes to one another, while the twins sat with Iggy (and Heckle, who was so overwhelmed by the amount of thoughts she could read in one place that she rather sensibly went to sleep in Iggy’s hair) and his friends who wanted to know everything about life in the Faraway. Apparently, there was only so much they could learn from the plant that grew newspapers…

  ‘Is it true that everyone in England eats hot cross buns for tea?’

  ‘How do cars work without junglespit to power them?’

  ‘Are Germans really on time for absolutely everything?’

  ‘Should you smuggle a pretty-please plant home with you so that you can get pocket money on demand whenever you hold a hand under its leaves?’

  Fox and Fibber answered the questions as best they could, though there was one that left them both stumped: ‘How on earth will you get home?’

  And though magic is rarely on time – in fact, more often than not it is disgracefully late – that day it was rather prompt to show its face. Because, as the last of the celebratory dinglejuices were drunk (a fabulous concoction that tasted of bananas and raspberries with a smattering of chocolate thrown in), there was a chugging sound, followed by a whistle blaring and then, to everyone’s surprise, the nose of a train poked through the undergrowth behind the candletree the twins sat beneath.

  Fox watched as green smoke fizzed up through the branches of the tree, then a junglespook, wearing nothing but a loincloth, sauntered out of the undergrowth.

  ‘Do I have a Fox and Fibber Petty-Squabble here?’ Tedious Niggle asked. ‘Or did they get savaged by sticklebugs over in the Bonelands?’

  The twins stood up before the junglespook.

  Tedious Niggle rubbed his eyes. ‘You look different,’ he said. ‘Less clean. Less cross.’

  The twins laughed. Fox had imagined leaving Jungledrop many times, the Forever Fern’s immortalising pearl clutched in her hand, and so it felt strange seeing the way home right there in front of them and to be leaving empty-handed. But then she thought back to her and Fibber’s journey, of all they had seen and done to set things right. And she realised that she wasn’t really going home empty-handed at all; she was returning with a brother, who was a friend not a rival, and she was returning with a surprising amount of self-belief and a world-shaking story. Fox blinked. She was, in fact, leaving with so many brilliant things she felt a little bit greedy.

  ‘I won’t ever forget you,’ Iggy said to the twins. ‘You’ve been the most brilliant heroes.’

  On the Unmapper’s shoulder, Heckle cocked her head. ‘And the most brilliant friends. Heckle will miss repeating your thoughts all day long.’

  Fibber ran a hand over the parrot’s head and Fox stroked her wing, then they hugged Iggy tight.

  ‘We’ll miss you both so much,’ Fox said.

  Deepglint padded over to the twins. ‘Your names will go down in Unmapped legend, as Casper Tock’s did in Rumblestar, and Smudge and Bartholomew’s did in Crackledawn.’

  Fox gazed at the Lofty Husk. He was so big and strong and wise and kind, and the thought of not having him around made her heart tremble. She tried to say something, but her voice was all choked up inside her.

  Deepglint burrowed his head into hers. ‘You brought my magic back to me, Fox. You forged a bond between us that even being in different worlds cannot break. And so, whenever you fall asleep back home, whisper for me in your dreams and you will find me there.’

  Fox wrapped her arms round Deepglint’s neck. How she wished he could be by her side when she faced her parents and told them she wouldn’t be coming up with a fortune-saving business plan, but was hoping to turn all her efforts into helping others. There was a ‘Save the Planet’ club at school that previously she’d dismissed as a waste of time, but which now she wanted to get involved in. And apparently there was a fundraiser next term for the old people’s home beside the school which she had a few ideas for. And then there we
re her classmates in general; she knew it was time, at last, to start making friends, even though the thought made her palms sweat.

  As if the Lofty Husk could sense Fox’s fears, he whispered: ‘Be yourself back in the Faraway and those around you will come to see you for who you really are.’ He lifted a paw to hold Fox close to him. ‘It is impossible not to love someone as wonderful as you, Fox Petty-Squabble.’

  Fox hugged Deepglint once more and when she drew back she saw a tear slip from the panther’s eye. She thought of how the Lofty Husk had hidden his tears when he learnt of Spark’s death, but was making no attempt to do so now. Perhaps even grown-ups learn things about love on adventures, Fox thought.

  She smiled at Deepglint one last time, then she stepped onto the train after Fibber.

  Tedious Niggle was on board already, plumping up cushions in the carriage before them. ‘I have to say I am glad to see you changed out of those ghastly business suits. And congratulations for beating Morg, by the way; I was rather worried you’d just get sunburnt instead.’

  He swished through the carriage to the far door, then turned. ‘Could I please ask that you sit down in the snugglers and hold on, tight, for the departure of this service? The Here and There Express tends to lurch off at speed, which is important if we’re to be back in the Faraway with only a few hours having elapsed since we left.’

  Fibber placed the satchel containing his paintings by his feet and sat down in the armchair before him, which changed immediately into a park bench laden with cushions. And Fox found her armchair morphing into a snug beanbag again. There was no sign of an office chair or a spiked throne this time.

  The twins glanced out of the window to see the huge crowd, fronted by Deepglint, Iggy and Heckle, waving them off, then the train jerked forward and, before the twins could even catch their breath, it was whisking them through the rainforest at breakneck speed.

  The Here and There Express raced along until they were soon back at Snaggletooth Cave, charging headlong into its mouth. The train rattled on and Fox thought back to how frightened she’d been when they plunged into this tunnel a week ago. But this time, in the drawn-out darkness, Fox felt her brother’s hand squeeze hers. Their adventure in Jungledrop was coming to an end, but their adventure back home was just beginning. Fox felt a flutter of excitement at the thought.

  The train burst out of the tunnel and Fox and Fibber blinked in surprise to see that they were wearing ordinary clothes once again. Not business suits, as they had been when they set out on their adventure, but clothes that regular eleven-year-olds might wear during the summer holidays. Shorts and T-shirts, socks and trainers. There wasn’t a tie or a briefcase in sight.

  The twins looked out of the window. They were moving so fast the countryside was a haze around them. But then the train slowed a little and their surroundings came into focus. Meadows strewn with flowers, wooden chalets clustered round lakes, mountains rising up into the distance.

  ‘Germany!’ Fibber cried.

  Fox shook her head in disbelief. ‘We made it back!’

  It was raining – great torrents of water pouring down onto the countryside – and this was drawing people, hundreds of them, out of their houses and into the meadows and fields. They were dancing, whooping and kicking through the puddles while holding up open hands as the rains fell and fell.

  ‘We did that,’ Fox said, smiling. ‘All this rain – because of what we did in Jungledrop!’

  The twins sat back and tried to take it all in as the train sped on towards Mizzlegurg.

  Far, far away, in the depths of a well, the harpy screeched with fury. She had lost her hold on Jungledrop and her rage swirled inside her. But when she had created the Night Garden she had placed this bottomless well in the corner and she knew that even bottomless wells did, eventually, lead somewhere. Even if that somewhere was so deep underground the only thing living there was the darkness itself.

  But Morg was a creature who clung to the dark, who knew how to use it to weave terrible spells. As she fell down, down, down into the well, she vowed to herself that she would stop at nothing until she had conjured a doorway into Crackledawn – an Unmapped Kingdom which still housed a few of her followers from her fleeting visit there many years ago. And if she could find a way into this land again, as she had done on the night she rose up from Everdark, and rally her followers, then one final opportunity would arise for her to steal the magic of both Crackledawn and Silvercrag – the last two Unmapped Kingdoms she hadn’t yet been banished from. Then she could begin her reign in earnest…

  Morg fell still further into the dark while the Here and There Express carrying Fox and Fibber rushed still further into the Faraway.

  The twins saw Mizzlegurg’s clock tower first, rising up above the village, and Fox noticed that it said 7 p.m. Not only was this the same day they had left but, as Tedious Niggle had said, only a couple of hours had passed while they’d been away!

  The train pulled to a stop at the station, which was as empty as it had been when the twins left. The carriage doors swung open, Tedious Niggle shooed them off, and then Fox and Fibber were standing on the platform – their trainers planted in a large puddle – as the Here and There Express pulled away.

  Beyond the platform, where the station led out onto the street, Fox could see a large crowd had gathered to celebrate the rains. And thundering through the middle of this crowd, barging with their elbows and ramming with their briefcases, were Mr and Mrs Petty-Squabble. Fox tensed at the sight of her parents and, as Bernard and Gertrude caught sight of their children and stormed across the platform, Fox felt a familiar fear scuttle through her.

  ‘We can do this, Fox,’ Fibber whispered beside her. ‘You and me – we’re a team.’

  Bernard thumped his briefcase down in a puddle and raised himself up before his children. ‘We expressly told you to stay in the penthouse suite of the Neverwrinkle Hotel.’

  Fox stared at her father. There was no mention of the rains returning, of the world having been saved from certain doom.

  Gertrude straightened her tie. ‘Your father and I have always prided ourselves on raising predictable children. We tell you to stamp on other people – and you do it. We tell you to work on a business plan – and you do it. We tell you to stay in one place – and you do it.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Why, then, do we suddenly find you on the platform of an ancient train station dressed in shorts and T-shirts?’

  Fox looked her parents up and down. She had always thought of them as people to be feared. But standing in front of them now, with her brother by her side and all that she’d learnt about love, self-belief and courage bubbling inside her, she thought they seemed smaller than they had done before. And she felt almost sorry for them because they would never see the world in the bright and wonderful way that she did now.

  ‘You lied to us,’ Fox found herself saying. ‘You pitted Fibber and me against each other in the hope of making money. And, though we may only be half your size and a quarter of your age, we matter. Just as everyone around us matters, too, whatever you may have led us to believe.’ She took a deep breath and channelled her firmest voice yet. ‘Bullies and liars often go from strength to strength until someone is brave enough to take them down. And, well, Fibber and I aren’t going to be bullied any more.’

  Fox couldn’t believe the words had come from her. Indeed Gertrude was rubbing her ears so hard, and Bernard blinking so madly, that Fox realised her parents couldn’t believe the words had come from their daughter either.

  ‘And we won’t be stamping on other people’s feelings either,’ added Fibber.

  Bernard stepped forward as if to say something, but Fibber merely held up his hand and carried on talking, which Fox thought was the slickest and most businesslike thing she’d ever seen him do.

  ‘We won’t be spending all of our time coming up with ways to save the family fortune. Or ignoring the fact that we could do more, every day, to save our planet and to care for the people in it. An
d we definitely won’t be allowing you to post either of us to Antarctica. Because –’ Fibber swallowed – ‘that’s just not what families do. They look out for each other. And we’re a family, even though up until now we’ve not done a very good job of being one. Fox is my sister, not my rival, and I think she’s brilliant. So from now on we’ll be treating each other with respect, whether you like it or not.’

  Bernard and Gertrude seemed to grow smaller and smaller with every word Fibber said. Indeed they were so stunned by this change of character in their children that they were, for once, completely lost for words. And that was probably just as well. Because, when terrible parents run out of things to say, it creates a little room for sense.

  ‘Please go back to the penthouse suite and wait for us there,’ Fox instructed. She had seen someone in the crowd behind her parents, someone she knew she and her brother would very much like to talk to.

  Fibber, too, had caught sight of the old man with dark, wrinkled skin who was peeling away from the crowd and hobbling towards them.

  Fox eyed her parents who seemed to be locked in a state of shock at this turn of events. She knew that she and Fibber still had so much more to tell them, but she imagined the hardest things about tricky conversations were the beginnings and, now that she and Fibber had begun, perhaps the rest would be a little easier.

  ‘There’s rather a lot we need to say back at the hotel,’ Fox added, ‘so I suggest you put the kettle on. I think the truth might be less distressing if you’re both armed with a cup of tea.’

  Bernard and Gertrude looked at their children with an expression that was an extraordinary mix of outrage, surprise and – for the briefest of moments – tenderness. As if the twins’ honesty and courage had awakened something inside the Petty-Squabble parents that they had assumed was long dead.