But the magic still kept them imprisoned, even though outside the red jelly-beasts were growing still smaller, and those which had recently been horse-sized were no larger than big dogs. Standing together once more Granny, Messina, Zakmeister and Sherdam repeated over and over the spells to release them, to send them flying off somewhere else, to whizz them into medieval or modern London, even to call for the Sky Train. Nothing worked. They could not budge the door handle, and when they tried to open door or window, they found it tight-locked, and received a small electric shock for their pains.
But the situation was changing fast. Now there were just twenty nine dog-sized jelly-oxen scuttling around outside, looking somewhat confused, rolling over and sitting on the doorstep. They could achieve very little, but nor could those trapped inside. It was a stalemate.
Messina called Yaark. She stood and walked to the window. “See your tame beasts, Yaark?” she called. “Accept defeat. You have lost. Take your vile magic and fly away. You know you’ve lost.”
No answer. She looked from the window. It was still night and the sky was still star pricked, but there was no blue star, nor any sign of some creature which might be Yaark. “Can we break the door down?” asked Sherdam. “There’s an axe in the shed.”
“The shed’s outside,” Messina pointed out. “And anyway, I doubt it. An axe has no more power than we do. Perhaps if these shrinking monsters leave, then the doors will open again.”
However, it seemed that the jelly-oxen were under orders, and although they were now so much smaller, they did not leave. They strayed around the boundary of the cottage, waiting for something. Those inside were also waiting, but they were not sure what for, and could only stare from the windows.
And then, sudden and startling, there was a thunderous sound of hooves on floorboards which interrupted everything, and Alan, the great white llama, galloped into the room, aimed straight for the door, kicked it open with one sturdy front leg, and raced outside., head down and hooves too fast to see.
Bayldon, in particular, stared in astonished delight, for Alan was his own llama, who had always been quiet, sweet natured, gentle and placid. Yet now he seemed entirely ferocious and did not wait for information or requests.
Then, just as suddenly and unexpected, followed a stream of animals ready for battle. “Wonderful, wonderful,” cried Messina, clapping her hands. “We are blocked by magic, but our wonderful animal friends are not.”
Mouse raced across the floor, fast as an arrow, straight out through the now open door, and into the garden. Her almost full grown kittens, Flop, Mars Bar and Gosling were hard on her tail, running as fast as she did. Claws out, eyes angry, they aimed straight for the invaders of their garden. Then came Gillywobbles and Candykins, the baby llamas, and they galloped, kicking and jumping, ready for the fight. Mavis the echidna, her spines standing on end, hurried afterwards, and although her speed was never that fast, the prickles of her back were ferocious. Now Ferdinand jumped from Granny’s lap and hopped after all the others. Dimples came last, all eight legs scrabbling to keep up, but her fangs were ready, and she would do what damage she could.
From outside came a roar, a hiss as loud as fire, the shrieking wail of four angry cats, the snorting of the llamas, and the heavy thump, thump, thump of the jelly-lumps as they scuttled back into the deep dark forest beyond the rolling hills.
The cats clawed and bit, raking long red scars down the jelly sides, the llamas kicked out so that some jelly-oxen went hurtling off into the sky. Some of the red beasts soon had echidna spines in their stomachs and made ragged howls as they ran away. Even Ferdinand managed to give a few punches and Dimples only had to wave her hairy front legs to frighten the jellies away.
Granny stood at the window, clapping her hands. “I wish we had the lava wolves and the Sparkan dragons too,” she said.
“My dear Altabella,” said Sherdam, “your wonderful pets have done as courageous and successful a job as any dragon could do. I never believed in such loyal bravery. It’s wonderful to see.”
“And can we yet leave this house?” Messina stood at the doorway, trying to force her hand to push beyond the space.
“It seems not, my love,” said Bayldon, “but we have a household of glorious animals, and we must thank everyone.”
Soon every shrunken blob of red slime had gone, running as fast as their wobbling bodies would allow and their ten straggly arms and sucking legs would permit. Not even their shadows could be seen. There was no blue star in the sky, and a faint purple haze showed that dawn was close.
One by one, slowly and puffing, out of breath, the animals returned home. Messina, Granny, Zakmeister, Bayldon and Sherdam all crowded around the open door to welcome them back, to thank them with kisses and hugs and cheers of congratulations and repeated thank yous. With little grins and swings of the head, each creature hurried inside, and stretched on the rug to catch its breath. Granny hurried into the kitchen and returned with a huge tray of various foods, bowls of warm milk, and special treats for everyone. The animals settled to eat. Even Dimples sat cheerfully beside Gillywobbles and they shared the milk. Bayldon stood and strode purposefully to the doorway. A warm breeze was blowing in, and the sky was lightening with the glow of the rising sun. And Bayldon reached out his hand. It went right through the open space. So he took a step, and his feet walked freely into the garden. He turned smiling, and one by one everyone followed him, standing on the squashed and battered grass and staring around at the destruction of what had once been a pretty and well-kept place.
Granny raised both arms. “Back the way you were,” she said. The grass sprang up. The bushes grew back into their original shapes, the flowers leapt up high and their perfumes swirled into the warm air. In the blink of an eye, the cottage garden was beautiful again. Granny turned and smiled at everyone. “So much for Yaark,” she said. “He has not won after all. He never does.”
Back inside the animals were curled together, all fast asleep and snoring a little in the new day’s sunshine.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nathan took two steps forward, grasped his knife very tightly, reached out his arm, and held the blade to the bright red ribbon which fell from roof to ground within the little silvery pool.
Around him stood the kings Richard III, Henry V and Henry VIII. They looked very serious, for they all understood the importance of great duties, ceremony and tradition. Peter was playing Greensleeves again, and Sam stood beside him, waiting in excitement, hands tightly clasped, for the wonderful moment.
Poppy started by running around and around the little pool. She couldn’t stop herself dancing. But then, realising Nathan was ready, she sat on the edge on the pool’s opposite side. She stared down as the silver water started to bubble, turning on its own into a dozen tiny fountains. And then she heard the singing. “Listen,” she cried. “They’re singing to Peter’s music. It’s the same tune. But I don’t understand the words.”
“We are the guardians of eternity,” one voice called. “And we speak the language of happiness.”
Nathan looked up. “So now I can cut the ribbon? And it will bring the happiness you sing about?”
“Lord of Clarr, hold up the Knife of Clarr and cut the Eternal Chain,” sang the voice loudly and clearly. “As yet you know little of Clarr, and the power of its lord. But once you have cut the ribbon, you will begin to learn. First you must go to Peganda. And then you must travel to Clarr.”
“I shall,” said Nathan at once. The voices had fallen silent, so with a deep breath, Nathan leaned over, held the ribbon in one hand, and swung the knife with his other. “It feels like a real chain,” he said, looking around with a huge smile of satisfaction. It looks like a thin shiny ribbon but when I held it, it felt like a heavy silver chain.”
There was a silent pause, as if everyone drew in their breath.
Then, “You cut it,” whispered Brewster. He had been standing back in the shadows.
“And you didn’t stop me,” sa
id Nathan. “I thank you for that. I think you understand what’s important. And your father loves Yaark, but you know how dangerous and evil he is.”
Brewster stood alone, staring down at his little golden boots. He seemed half lost. “Now I shall return to my brother and father,” he murmured. “And explain why I failed to stop you.”
Suddenly Poppy jumped up, ran over to him, flung her arms around his waist, and hugged him. Brewster was astonished. It was clear that no one in his entire life had ever hugged him. After she had let him go, he took her hand in his, and thanked her. “Well,” said Poppy. “We’ve done each other the favours we promised, and we understand each other. Now I think you’re my friend.”
Pausing, staring, finally Brewster thoughtfully said, “Now I truly think I am.”
And with a fast click of his fingers on both hands, Brewster disappeared. Only a wisp of pale golden smoke was left behind by his golden boots and hat.
With another deep breath they all turned back to the Eternal Chain, staring in excitement. The two ends of the scarlet ribbon hung in the air, one falling from above, the other rising from the water, with a wide gap between. Then, as they watched, the two sharp cut ends began to twist and turn, and the singing started again. From the water appeared three small figures, all shining silver, their long hair streaming ripples, and their eyes bright blue. Everything else about them was silver, but they seemed part bird, part woman, part fish and part waterfall. They took the ends of the ribbon and entwined them together. When these creatures sank back into the pool, the ribbon seemed new again, and no cut was visible. But it had changed colour. Now it was also silver, and it sparkled and reflected in the silver water.
“This is astonishing,” said Richard III softly. “I have never imagined such magic.”
“But we don’t know what it means,” said Henry V looking towards Nathan for an explanation.
“But I don’t really know either,” sighed Nathan. “I’m new to almost everything. Honestly, I’m not even sure how you got here, or why.”
“That was stupid Deben,” said Poppy. “I’m so glad he went home. But I bet he’s still doing horrible things to the people back then.”
“At least he’s being nicer to his real father,” said Sam. “I’ve got a new father too. Zakmeister says he’s going to be my dad from now on. I always wanted one.”
“Fathers,” said Richard, “are the shaping of a young child’s life. I did not see much of my own as he was busy with many responsibilities, but I loved and admired him deeply.”
“I never liked mine. Wish I’d seen less of him,” grumbled Henry VIII.
“Same here,” said Henry V. “Horrid old man, cold as a fish.”
“Taking of fish,” said Peter, still plucking the strings of his lute, “those beautiful creatures that came from the silver water, were they a sort of fish, living in a pool?”
“No,” Poppy said at once, shaking her head, “they had lovely faces and long hair and they had wings too. Fishy tails, but proper arms and hands.”
“But I am mightily glad to be here,” said Richard, “for I have experienced wonderful things and met truly good people. I will be sorry to leave.”
Agreeing, Nathan still stood looking at the Eternal Chain. “And they fixed it and made it turn wonderful silver. That’s important, I think.”
“A good sign,” said Richard.”
“A brilliant sign,” said Sam.
“Well,” Nathan grinned again, “I hope it means we get out safely. I hate climbing past all that fire and smoke and lava.”
“Reckon tis time,” Henry V nodded. “Always best, I believe, to face the difficulties first and get them over and done with.”
“I am happy to lead,” said Richard. “I shall call out if the flames seem worse. But I believe the good sign means a good journey.”
He strode from the high roofed cave to the tunnel leading back to the volcano, and into the darkness once more. The others followed, with Henry V at the end, in case anything attacked from behind. But there were no attacks, no strange happenings and no trouble. Reaching the spurt of red hot fire spouting and exploding from deep down within the mountain, they managed to climb the rocky steps as hurriedly as possible and climb out into the light again. Still in danger from the volcano, they half ran, half climbed down the sloping side and its swirl of burning black lava and eventually reached the edge of the simmering lake and its massing serpents.
Immediately Hermes, who had been waiting there, flew down to walk beside the others, and Nathan put a hand gently to his neck.
“What a pretty place,” complained Henry VIII gloomily. “One nasty thing after another, with more around the corner. Anything else horrible on the way?”
“Yes,” laughed Nathan. “Dragons.”
Richard looked up in considerable surprise, as the soft sound of beating wings surrounded their heads. The dragons had certainly arrived. A large group, including Poppy’s old friends, had seen them climb from the volcano and had come to say hello, and welcome to Sparkan.
It was Wuz who called first, flapping his wings and swooshing his tail. “Poppy, my friend,” Wuz cried. “And Peter, both my special friends. I have told every dragon on this island that I have met real people, and they were actually very nice.”
“And I’ve told everyone too,” laughed Poppy, “about meeting real dragons, and how nice they are. And I’m really proud of having dragons for friends.”
Hermes was muttering under his breath but did not complain aloud. Wuz came down to have a closer look at Richard and the two Henrys. All three men stared back in complete amazement. “Each new thing that happens,” Richard said, bending one knee so to be on the same level as the dragon, “seems more and more astonishing. Good afternoon, dragon. I am extremely pleased to meet you.”
“The name’s Wuz,” he said, flapping one wing in greeting. Looking up to the other wings beating above, Wuz called, “No danger here, my friends. These are all good people.” With a nod, he added, “And a good goose.” Then he bowed slightly to Peter. “You have your lute with you I see, Master Peter. That’s very good news. I hope we can sing our song later. As long as you haven’t forgotten it.”
“I’ll never forget that,” Peter nodded. “I’d love to sit out on the hillocks tonight and play it if your friends and family will come and sing those wonderful words.”
Poppy was hopping up and down again. “And can we invite some of the Lava Wolves?” she asked.
“And the whooshabouts?” asked Sam.
“Ask anyone except the serpents or those wretched wizards,” said Wuz. “But the whooshabouts are hard to find. They whooshabout too much.”
“And the blue rabbits?”
“They’re just stupid and can’t sing,” Wuz said with a sniff. “But if we have a big party under the stars, then I shall ask my mother and aunty to spread the word to the dragons and wolves. Most will come.”
Richard whispered to Nathan, “Do they understand about the Eternal Chain? Do they realise you’ve cut it?”
But Nathan said no. “They know about it,” he said. “But not what it means, or how important it is for Lashtang. So telling them I cut it might just upset them.”
Talking, comparing stories of medieval London, modern London and Lashtang, they walked across the grassy hillocks and the scrubby valleys of gorse bushes and reeds, where the creeks and tiny streams ran, filling the rocky cracks and then disappearing underground. Eventually more of the lava wolves peeped out, their eyes and noses appearing hesitantly from the caves, seeing humans and expecting danger. But soon, realising that the dragons were talking happily to these strange humans, many of the wolves squeezed from their hidden homes, and came to rest amongst the group, listening to the gossip and stories.
Poppy told Wuz, “I’ve missed you. But now I’m back with more magic and I think we can help you all with bringing more food to Sparkan. This is Nat, my brother, and he’s the Lord of Clarr in Lashtang. That means he has a special knife to d
o clever things, and it tries to do what Nat asks. So how about a feast for the hungry wolves, and lots of nice green lettuces and cabbages for the blue rabbits? And what do whooshabouts eat?”
Sniggering slightly, Wuz said, “Boring insects.”
“I’m sure we can make some of them up too.” Poppy looked up at her brother. “Can you do that, Nat. And then lots of wonderful things for dinner tonight under the stars?”
Feeling rather nervous, for after all the knife could not achieve everything, Nathan nodded, and stood, taking the knife in his hand. Everyone, especially the wolves who were the hungriest, held their breath and hoped something wonderful would happen.
“I am the Lord of Clarr,” said Nathan as always, “and I ask the Knife of Clarr to help my friends. I want good plentiful food to satisfy the dragons, the wolves, the rabbits and the whooshabouts. Lots and lots of it. But the lava wolves first.”
Several of the wolves sprang up, smelling food. Almost immediately it appeared in huge overflowing piles. There was meat both raw on the bone, and more cooked into wonderful roast dinners. There were also bags of funny worm-like things, and the wolves sprang straight to the baskets, for clearly the worms were treats. Every wolf present, all three heads, began eating very fast, and Sam said, “Gosh, they must be starving.”
“Indeed they are,” said Wuz. “We dragons can find better food since we eat more variety, we can produce some from magic, and we can fly away from Sparkan. But the wolves are trapped. Over the years, their food has become more and more scarce.”
“I fed a lot before,” said Sam. “But it wasn’t enough.”
“So did we,” Nathan added. “But we need to find a permanent supply.”
Next came the rabbit food, but Nathan asked that this be put into the burrows where the rabbits lived, as they’d be scared to come out while so many wolves were around.
The whooshabout food appeared already thick in the air, as if a hundred thousand insects were waiting to be eaten. “Just as well they don’t live on Lashtang,” said Poppy. “They’d eat all our friends that Yaark changed.”
Dominoes Page 29
