But the larger head sighed. “Not those colours, sir. There is the red star Cakist, which is now old and fading. The strongest and nastiest is the purple Grublick. There is also the yellow, and the orange. They are all evil. When the great Clebbster comes, he brings the blue star Yaark with him, and they all group together and talk, but we do not know what they say.”
“This is terrible,” said Nathan. “We thought there was just one evil star and that was Yaark. Now we know there are eight.”
John pointed back to the volcano. “So wot’s made that ‘orrible thing blow so nasty?” he asked. “Tis far worse than I expected.”
“Worse than last time when I was here,” said Peter.
“Ah,” said the wolf, “The Sparkan volcano has been angry ever since the boy and his goose climbed in to find the Eternal Chain after they fed my friends. I believe it may be the stars which have set off the great explosions.”
Peter, John and Nathan stared at each other. This was terrible news. “Sam could be dead,” whispered Nathan. “We have to go after him and see if we can help.”
“Into the volcano?” mumbled Peter, shivering. “Did Sam really do that?”
“He did,” nodded the wolf. “For my friends told him it led quickly to the tunnel. I have not seen anyone since, so I do not know the outcome.”
“I’m going now,” said Nathan, turning and setting out at once. “And there’s no time to lose. Find Sam and help him first. Then find the Eternal Chain, cut it and return to Lashtang. Then I promise to come back here and bring plenty of good food for the wolves. Please tell your friends and family, for I’m the Empole and I want all my people to be healthy, happy and well fed.”
“When we gets rid of all them succubincubisses or whatever they is. Yaark and his mates.” John hurried after Nathan. “Wait fer me, Nat. You ain’t gonna risk all that alone.”
Peter scurried behind. “I’ve got my lute,” he reminded them. “And that does wonderful magic. And you’ve got the Knife of Clarr.”
“And I got me ten toes,” laughed John. “Let’s go and mash up them stars fer wolf dinner.”
It was hard work to approach the volcano for its fiery explosions were almost continuous, hot liquid lava rolled down the mountainsides, and flames shot up into the sky with a roar of crackling thunder. But Nathan, John and Peter kept going. The three-headed lava wolf watched them go rather sadly, as if he did not believe they would ever come back.
Climbing the mountain was easy in one way, for the rocks were pitted with holes and it was not too steep. But it was hard in another way, for the heat was the worst any of them had ever known. At the crater mouth, Nathan stopped, and peered down into the red hot coals. It looked like a bubbling bath of fire and the smoke and steam was terrible. Spurts of burning ash flew upwards and they all had to lurch backwards, but they could see the steps going down into the mountainside.
“But reckon we’ll be fizzled,” said John. “Tis hot as some furnace. Can’t say I likes the idea o’ getting in it. I ain’t no steel fer the melting.”
“You don’t have to come,” said Nathan. “I’m going in. You make your own decisions.”
But without any further words, each of them climbed in, and began carefully to climb down the steps. It burned their hands and feet, and Peter thought the sparks must have burnt a hole in the sole of one shoe, and it felt as though his toes were now on fire. But then, gasping for breath, they came to the mouth of the tunnel. It was a great round rugged hole, but just inside it was blocked by an enormous heap of stones, rocks and drips of molten lava. There was definitely no way in.
Nathan stared, shaking his head. “And look. Down further below, the steps stop. It all finishes here.”
“Push,” suggested John. “Mayhaps t’will all fall down if we kicks together.”
But Nathan shook his head again. He was standing at the tunnel entrance, his hands against the great heap of rocks. “This is solid. I don’t think even Alfie could push this down.”
“Then we needs magic,” said John, and Peter immediately pulled out his lute which was firmly tucked inside his long brocade coat.
“I can try,” he said.
The first notes of the lute were sweet and tuneful, but they fell flat against the mountain’s great hollow belly, and the noises of the volcano, belching and rumbling, drowned out the melody. Peter tucked the lute back into its safe dark pocket. “I don’t think anything will work in here,” he said. “We’ll have to go to the other entrance.”
“Up those rotten burning steps again? Into the volcano? And down the other side? Snakes and crabs and burning steam?”
“Sorry. But what else can we do?”
“Ask the knife?” suggested John.
The blade reflected the golden flames and the huge scarlet leaps of explosion. Nathan held it up. “The Lord of Clarr to the Knife of Clarr,” he said. “As empole, I must discover the Eternal Chain, and you are the one the chain is waiting for. Will you take us there? The way is blocked with stone. Can you break this down?”
The silver blade reflected the scarlet flames, and it was impossible to see whether the knife had accepted the task. Then, as they waited, the rocky piles began to tremble, and the first stones fell, crumbling into dust. Slowly and one by one the rocks tumbled, and the passageway began to open.
“Quick,” said John. “Reckon now we can climb in. Tis a tunnel.”
Very carefully, they climbed over the remaining stones and into the space beyond. But here also it was dangerous for the ground was cracked and full of holes where the raging volcanic fire spurted through, and spits of lava splattered the walls. It was far worse than when Sam had walked here, for the destruction of the three stars had caused greater eruptions, and the whole tunnel was a maze of broken stone.
Nathan led, and slowly they walked on until they saw a light shining away at the very end. It was a bright silver light, not the usual light of red hot ashes and flames, so they knew they were approaching something quite different, and they hoped very much that this would be the place where the Eternal Chain would be hidden.
The great cave had not been destroyed and the cracks in the floor where Grublick and the others had fallen were now closed. In the cave’s centre was the pool of silvery ripples, and from the rock ceiling down into the water, hung the ribbon, shining silver satin, and as beautiful as Sam and Hermes had seen it.
For a moment Nathan, John and Peter all stood there just gazing in delight. They breathed in the rich perfume of sweet magic and exciting spicery. Then Nathan once more held up the knife. “Tell me,” he said, “if this is truly the Eternal Chain.”
Immediately the ribbon shimmered and sparkled, twisting in its own light.
A clear soft voice echoed in the high roofed cavern. “I am the chain of eternal life,” it said, “and I greet the future emperor of this land.”
Chapter Eleven
Alfie led the way across the grassy hills, taking Alice by the hand as Poppy danced beside her. “Look,” Poppy said, pointing across the little valley of daisies and primroses. “There’s the palace. Poor thing, all broken and dark and burned.”
They had chosen to walk instead of travelling by magic. It was not a great distance and Alice still preferred the fresh sunshine on her hair rather than whooshing about on ladders, bird trains or muttered spells. It was a beautiful day as usual in the Lashtang summer, and the birds were singing in the trees while not a single cloud spoiled the bright blue sky.
As they approached the ruined palace, they still avoided the great lake, which lay on the other side. Everyone remembered the crocodiles, and even though there should now be none left, they could not be sure.
Entering the broken building from the back into the kitchens, they were suddenly surrounded by shadows, which seemed even darker because they came straight from such brilliant golden sunlight. But all the palace roofs were broken, and some no longer existed at all, so the daylight entered in most places.
They also avoided the
little staircase up to the Chord of Destiny, for it had earlier been guarded by poisonous spiders, where Poppy and Alice had both been badly bitten. “Keep on going around this corridor,” said Poppy. “Let’s see where it ends.”
“I’d like to see where the royal apartments are again,” said Alice. “The queen’s rooms behind the magic library, they were marvellous.”
“The whole palace is far too big to remember all the different bits,” objected Alfie. “I can’t remember how to get anywhere anymore. But I reckon we can just wander.” Then he looked up, shaking his head. “I’m hungry and I can smell dinner.”
“Impossible,” said Alice, but then paused. “I can smell it too.” She smiled. “My favourite. Roast suckling pig with thyme and onion stuffing.”
Alfie looked puzzled. “I’m smelling apple tart and custard,” he said. “Now that’s proper different.”
“Perhaps someone’s cooking both dinner and pudding,” said Poppy. “But no one lives near here so where’s the smell coming from? And now I can smell something too – but it’s steak and kidney pie. I hope there’s some mashed potatoes.”
Alice turned. “I want to look in the kitchens again,” she said, starting to walk back along the corridor.
“That makes no sense,” Alfie said, irritated. “We just bin through there. It was empty and falling down like always.”
“So who’s doing the cooking?”
Poppy turned and was following Alice. “Maybe it’s a BBQ.”
Reluctantly Alfie caught them up. “Quick, then,” he said. “We can’t waste time.”
Then quite suddenly they heard a crash, turned a sharp corner in the passage which none of them could remember being there before, and entered a vast hall. It was polished, and the ceiling was vaulted with high carved timbers. Along the centre of the hall was a long table set with platters and silver knives and spoons, elaborate candle holders, and a beautiful white linen table cloth. But also on the table, crashing into the cups and platters, were two young men, both holding knives, both angry, and both fighting each other.
The hall was certainly not in ruins and looked very new and grand. But a tall man in long velvet robes shouted out, “Your Highness, Empole Ninester, get off the table if you please. You have broken three platters and a cup, bent two spoon handles, and have left black muddy footprints on the linen cloth.”
But it was not the Ninester Poppy, Alfie and Alice had met. This young man was quite different. He was tall, skinny, had a long sharp nose, and thin greasy black hair. He snarled at the man who had spoken. “Tell this idiot to stop fighting me then.”
“My lord,” said the elderly man who had spoken before, “you have just killed the idiot’s brother. He is obliged by law to avenge his brother’s life. You are supposed to apologise.”
“Shan’t,” said the one called Ninester. He took a sudden step backwards, brought the blade of his knife to his lips, and kissed it. Then he smiled, pounded forwards, and thrust the knife into his opponent’s throat. The boy fell at once, clattering into the piles of scattered earthenware and cutlery, and breaking a jug of water that had stood in the middle.
“Oh dear,” sighed the elderly man. “Not again. Why do you keep killing people, my lord?”
“Because I don’t like ‘em,” objected Ninester, sitting down on one of the chairs and regarding the body now lying in a pool of blood on the table. “Take it away.”
Several armed guards came from behind the elderly man and lifted the dead man away and out of the room. People started to appear from the shadows around the doorway, and came to sit down at the table, but one of the women screeched, saying, “I shall not eat my dinner from a pool of blood. Change all these broken things.”
A stream of servants ran in from the kitchens, trussed up the ruined tablecloth with all the platters and cutlery and broken jug and everything else all inside. Then they ran back out to the kitchens, and quickly returned with new linen, cutlery, platters, cups and a very large jug of wine. The elderly man clapped his hands. “Now serve dinner,” he said. Huge serving dishes of heaped food were brought in, and there were indeed dishes of roast pork, steak and kidney pies, and apple tart with custard.
Everyone, men and women, settled down to be served, eat and drink, and forget the fight. Ninester sat at the head of the table and ate a great deal. He was also drinking a lot of the dark red wine. Alfie looked at Alice and Poppy, and whispered, “So we’ve come back in time. It’s the magic in this place, like before. But I don’t think anyone can see us.”
“Good,” said Poppy, “because that horrible looking Ninester seems to be a real brute.”
“But he’s not the real Ninester,” Alice said. “This must be the false one they found to take the real Ninester’s place.”
Nodding, Alfie said, “Right. This one’s the kid called Deben they found in some village, who has magic. Nasty bad magic, not like the Octobrs.”
“Hush,” pleaded Alice. “It seems they can’t see us. What if they can hear us?”
“I hope they can,” Poppy giggled, “that might frighten them. They’re all beasts. That horrible Ninester has killed someone right on the dinner table, and five minutes later they’re all sitting there stuffing their faces.”
“Yes, it’s disgusting,” said Alice. “Clearly they don’t care, or maybe they’re just used to it. But where’s Ninester’s father? At least his poor mother isn’t slaving away in the kitchens anymore, because we rescued her long before this false Ninester was brought to the palace.”
They stood staring into the great hall through the narrow doorway which led to the dark corridor. The main doors were on the opposite wall, and the doors to the kitchen were at the far end. But nobody looked towards them, and even when Alfie, with a big grin, stuck out his leg and waved his foot around in the candlelight, it was obvious that he remained unseen. “Good,” said Alfie. “Let’s go and explore everywhere else. Hopefully if they look right through us here, the same will be true everywhere.”
“I feel like an Epilog,” said Alice.
“Which gives me an idea,” Poppy said at once. “We should check the dungeons. This horrible Ninester is sure to have poor good people stuck in the cells.”
But they had no idea how to get to the dungeons, so they followed the windows, trying to find some that showed a courtyard or garden, even the crocodile lake, to show them the way out. That took quite some time but eventually Poppy pointed at a patch of sunlight on the tiles, showing the way to a small private garden. Near the window was an arched doorway, and they peeped through, wondering what they would find.
The garden was very small and showed no path to the outside where it led down to the dungeons, but it was exceedingly pretty with climbing vines and flowers and a little pond with a fountain spurting up in the middle. The water seemed to be singing and Alfie walked over to it, trying to listen to the words. “No,” he said eventually. “No words. But tis pretty music just coming from the pond. Remember there was something the same upstairs outside the horrible Krillester’s royal bedroom. If you climbed in you got taken straight up on the roof.”
“But this one may not be the same,” frowned Alice. “It could be a bad end.”
“No,” Alfie shook his head. “Tis a right pretty garden. Those flowers smell fine. The fountain looks really nice and it sings too. Can’t be a bad thing.”
“It could be,” said Alice with considerable caution. “I don’t like taking risks in this place. We’ve been hurt here so many times. This could be a trap.”
“We’ve had good things too,” Alfie pointed out. “We found the real Ninester and rescued the Epilogs and got the proper queen out of the kitchens. But you wait and see what happens to me first.”
Poppy had been sitting on the little stone edge to the fountain, listening to Alfie and Alice arguing. Then, just to see what might happen, she dabbled one finger in the water. She disappeared at once.
Both Alice and Alfie peered around, then ran to the little fountain in a
panic. “But she was right here,” said Alfie. He looked deep into the water. “Where’s she gone?”
“Like I said,” Alice shook her head and sighed. “That other little fountain took people straight out onto the top of the turrets. I wonder if this one sends everyone to the same place.”
“We could get in too, and find out,” Alfie suggested. “But I don’t reckon on that idea. We might all end up in different places. I think we should just start looking for her. We wanted to explore the whole palace. Well, now we have to. At least no one can see us, so we’re safe going everywhere.”
“I suppose that’s best,” Alice agreed. “And if we don’t find her after we’ve looked all around, then we’ll have to come back here and get into the water after all.”
Alfie took Alice’s hand again. “I ain’t losing you as well,” he said. “Come on. I think we should start up the top.”
But the fountain had not taken Poppy up. It had taken her down. Way, way down.
She woke in the deep black airless chill of the dungeons, without warmth or windows, and she was both scared and bewildered. At first she didn’t realise where she was, but it quickly became obvious as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She could hear moaning from someone in the far corner, and groaning from someone else who sounded in pain. Then she heard someone crying. It sounded like a very old man. Poppy crept towards the sounds, but she assumed that no one would be able to see or hear her. ‘Hello,” she muttered. “Who are you? I’m Poppy Bannister.”
No one answered. No one heard her. But now, gradually, she could see them.
There were five people chained in the dungeon. One was a crooked old man and he was curled in the corner, crying to himself. Another was a young man, and his leg was badly wounded, he was groaning and grasping his leg as the blood bubbled between his fingers. The other three were dressed as kitchen staff and still wore their aprons. Poppy wondered how she could talk to them, and even more importantly how she could rescue them and herself too. She crept over to the young man with the bleeding leg, and whispered in his ear, “How were you hurt?”
Dominoes Page 11
