Alice Parker's Metamorphosis (Book 1 of the new adventure series for children)

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Alice Parker's Metamorphosis (Book 1 of the new adventure series for children) Page 4

by Palmer, Nicola


  ‘What? No! Just your sweets.’

  ‘It’s not that. There’s a really strong smell of strawberries.’ She sniffed the air, concentrating like a sniffer dog. ‘Julia, are you wearing strawberry perfume?’ she asked.

  Julia, who sat two rows in front of them, turned around. ‘No, I’m not,’ she replied, blushing. ‘I have got strawberry jam sandwiches in my lunchbox though.’ She tapped her bag, as if to prove their existence.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ said Alice, shame-faced. She wished she had bitten her lip – now she’d done it again, drawn attention to herself.

  ‘Incredible! You freak me out more each day!’ said Sarah.

  ‘Can you smell me, Alice?’ called the squeaky voice of Lawrence, sniggering across the gangway.

  ‘Always. And today, stronger than ever. I’d say you’re rotten.’ His face fell. She heard him whisper to Quinton,

  ‘Do you think I’ve left an old egg roll in my desk?’

  Alice vowed that she would not show herself up again that day. And she managed it, though she did start to feel ill during the last lesson. Although she made it through history, she really struggled with the walk home. Luckily, Sarah was with her. She always went home with Alice on a Tuesday while her sister had orchestra practice after school.

  As she shuffled up Albany Road, Sarah carrying her rucksack, she admitted, ‘I feel dreadful. I’m so dizzy and my back’s killing me.’ Sarah took her arm to support her but just as they reached Alice’s gate, she collapsed.

  ‘ALICE!’ screamed Sarah, dropping to her knees in the snow. The front door flew open and Thomas ran towards them carrying a blanket. He sat his sister up, put the blanket around her shoulders and carried her inside. Sarah ran after him, crying, while Jack was barking frantically, darting around in distress.

  ‘Is she alright, what’s wrong with her?’ sobbed Sarah.

  ‘She’ll be fine, soak this in water,’ he commanded and he lay Alice in the recovery position on the kitchen floor. As Sarah handed him the drenched blanket, she saw movement in the back of Alice’s blazer.

  ‘WHAT’S THAT?’ she shrieked.

  ‘Grab those scissors,’ dictated Thomas, pointing, and carefully rolled Alice on to her front.

  He swiftly cut a line up the back of her blazer. Even through her shirt they could see that her upper back was grossly swollen. They were clearly just in time as, at that moment, something erupted from Alice’s back and ripped through her shirt. It was large, glistening with moisture, though not a speck of blood. As it expanded outside her body, rising up into the air, it suddenly seemed to fall in half. Sarah screamed. It wasn’t one thing, it was two. Two...wings.

  It proved too much for Sarah. Thomas now had a pool of her vomit to deal with.

  ‘Fantastic,’ he groaned.

  *

  Fifteen silent minutes later, Alice was sitting up drinking pineapple juice, the wet blanket draped around her. She looked dreadful. Sarah was sitting on the floor too, though at a safe distance from her friend, her back against a cupboard. She was petrified and bewildered. What she had just witnessed happening to her friend was terrifying, like something from a horror film. Yet Thomas knew exactly what to do and had behaved as though it were perfectly normal. Finally, she whispered,

  ‘Thomas...why?’

  He looked at her, anxiously rubbing his sister’s hand, unsure what to tell her.

  ‘Yes Thomas, why?’ murmered an exhausted Alice. ‘Why me? And how did you know what to do?’

  Thomas took a couple of deep breaths.

  ‘Sarah, I’m trusting you, as Alice’s friend, to keep this to yourself. If you open your mouth, you will be putting many people at risk. Do you understand?’

  She nodded. Those words sounded strangely familiar to Alice.

  ‘Well, it’s hereditary,’ he began. ‘I’m one, Grandad Parker is one, though it skipped a generation so Dad isn’t.’

  ‘One what?’ asked Alice, wide-eyed.

  ‘Finwip. That is, a Fully Integrated Winged Person. That’s what we’ve named ourselves, anyway. Over hundreds of years, winged people have evolved to adapt to modern society. I mean, we live as normal people with our wings and abilities hidden. Grandad never even told Dad, he only told me when I went through this a few years ago. Luckily, he recognised the signs and made sure I was with him when it happened.’

  ‘And how do I hide these monsters?’ asked Alice, alluding to her wings. ‘I haven’t seen them properly, but I can tell that they’re enormous.’

  ‘Don’t worry. When you’re calm, they’ll go back in of their own accord and it won’t hurt at all. But remember you will always have a mark on your back, a dark line which is where they emerge from. You’ll need to be careful and keep your back hidden when you get changed at school. And at home – we’re not telling Mum and Dad. Grandad doesn’t think it would be a good idea.’

  Alice sighed, trying to take it all in. So Grandad was a Finwip. She felt sure that must be linked to the secret kidnapping. ‘What did you mean by abilities?’ she suddenly remembered.

  ‘We each have special abilities. I mean, skills that are enhanced compared with normal humans. It seems you’re going to be super-intelligent.’

  ‘She already is,’ said Sarah quietly. She was beginning to feel better, at least things were starting to make sense now.

  ‘What’s your ability?’ asked Alice.

  ‘If I’m honest, they don’t know yet,’ said Thomas. ‘Some abilities take longer to develop than others. They think it will be something to do with science, so perhaps uni is the best place for me at the moment.’

  ‘They?’

  ‘The rest of our people. Our local group, anyway. You’ll have to meet them soon, they’ve been very worried about you.’

  Alice stroked Jack, who was lying next to her. She half expected him to turn into a frog, everything seemed so ridiculous. If it weren’t for the sinister mound beneath the blanket around her shoulders and the unmistakable smell of sick in the air, she would have sworn she was dreaming.

  ‘Is this why I’ve been eating so much?’ she asked Thomas.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said, smiling. ‘Developing wing discs requires a great deal of nutrients. And yours look like butterfly wings, so your symptoms of craving fruit and sugar were completely normal. You know, as a butterfly feeds on nectar.’

  ‘There are different sorts? What sort are your wings?’

  ‘Dragonfly,’ he replied in a matter-of-fact manner. He had a peek at her wings under the blanket. ‘Come on, I’ll help you stand up. We’ve kept them moist to give you a chance to recover, but now we need to let them dry off. They can take one to three hours to inflate properly and get the blood circulating. On your feet, Sarah, we’ll help her up to her room and open the window.’

  She scrambled to her feet and put on a brave face. Squeezing Alice’s hand, she and Thomas supported her under each arm and struggled up the stairs. Sarah kept looking over her shoulder and then leaning forwards, as though she feared that if the wings touched her, the condition might be contagious. They sat Alice sideways on her chair, since the backrest would be in the way of her wings, and Thomas flung the window wide open. Then he carefully released her wings from the blanket.

  Alice turned her head to look at herself in the mirror and stared in fear at her hideous wings. They didn’t look like butterfly wings to her. They were dark and menacing, towering above her shoulders and almost touching the floor as she sat on the chair. At first glance, she reminded herself of one of those eerie stone angels you find in a cemetery. She shivered and a tear ran down her ashen face.

  As the cold air blew in, her wings started to dry and become more transparent. Sitting on the bed, Thomas and Sarah watched as they became beautifully shiny and clearly shaped like those of a butterfly. There was no denying they were huge, though.

  Thomas offered his hand and Alice stood up cautiously.

  ‘I feel a bit wobbly,’ she complained. ‘They feel so strange.’

  �
�That’s because they’re still damp,’ said Thomas. ‘After a while, you get used to it. Never slouch, though, you need to stand tall with those wings.’

  ‘Surely they’re too big for me?’ moaned Alice. She turned this way and that, trying get a better view in the mirror, as if trying on a new outfit.

  ‘Not at all,’ Thomas assured her. ‘In fact, you could be one of the lucky few. You might be able to fly.’

  ‘WHAT?!’ Alice raised her voice.

  ‘Most of us can’t fly because we have evolved that way. We don’t need to and anyway, we can’t in front of people. But some, who have exceptionally large wings in relation to their body, can fly a little.’

  Alice shook her head in disbelief. Sarah had now lost all fear and was just plain jealous. She looked up at the window.

  ‘Thomas,’ she asked, ‘do you know what we saw hovering outside on Saturday?

  ‘Not just on Saturday,’ added Alice.

  ‘Yes, it was Imogen. She’s the leader of our community and has been keeping an eye on you. She knew your metamorphosis was imminent and was concerned about your health.’

  ‘Mmm,’ grunted Alice. ‘Well, I suppose that’s good news. I thought I was going to be kidnapped.’

  Thomas seemed baffled – he obviously had no idea what she was referring to. ‘You’ve had a rough time,’ he said. ‘But you’ve got a darn fine pair of wings, you lucky thing!’

  Alice looked away and noticed the time on the clock. ‘Oh no, Sarah, your mum will be here in a few minutes!’

  Sarah was mortified.

  ‘Stay calm,’ insisted Thomas. ‘Alice, you need to stay up here and get some rest. Sarah and I will go downstairs and tell her mother that you were sick when you got home. We’ll have to continue that story anyway for school tomorrow. You won’t be going in.’

  ‘What do we tell Mum and Dad?’

  ‘Dad’s on late shift today. I’ll tell Mum you’ve been ill and want to get some sleep. That way, she’ll leave you in peace and phone school for you tomorrow as well. Don’t worry, I’ll bring you some food later.’

  ‘You’ve got it all under control, haven’t you?’ said Alice, relieved.

  ‘I’ve had plenty of time to plan for it,’ said Thomas. ‘Thank goodness it was during my holidays.’

  ‘Bye then, Alice,’ said Sarah, standing up to go. ‘I hope you’re going to be OK. Give me a call if you can.’ She felt, given the circumstances, that she should give her friend a hug, but much as she wanted to comfort her, she didn’t want to touch those wings at any price. Alice sensed her reticence.

  ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘Thank you. You’ve been great.’

  Thomas closed the door and led Sarah downstairs. ‘You did well, kid,’ he said with a grin. ‘Not sure we’ll ever get rid of that smell in the kitchen, though.’

  *

  Alice awoke to find she still had wings. When she tried to turn over she realised there was something in the way. For an instant, she thought it had been a vivid nightmare. Now the reality was starting to set in.

  ‘Nope, it’s true,’ she muttered to herself. ‘I am officially a freak.’ She sighed and Jack stood up from his favourite spot next to her bed, where he had been guarding her all night. He was smiling as usual. ‘It’s all right for you,’ said Alice, reaching up to stroke his head. ‘Your life’s simple. I don’t even know how to get out of bed today.’

  After a moment’s thought she rolled on to her front and moved slowly into a kneeling position. Then she stepped carefully off her bed. Jack retreated a couple of paces, as if perturbed by what his owner had become.

  ‘Please don’t be afraid,’ whispered Alice. ‘I’m still me, even with these horrid things on my back.’

  He plodded back and licked her hand. She was still wearing the damp blanket from the previous afternoon. ‘I suppose this is all that will fit me at the moment,’ she said to Jack. ‘Not exactly fashionable, what would the coven say if they saw me in this?’

  ‘I think your outfit would be the least of their worries if they could see you right now,’ said a voice outside her bedroom door.

  Alice turned the key to let Thomas in and stood behind the door to hide.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said. Mum’s already left for work and she phoned the school for you. Dad’s asleep. I told them you’ve got an upset stomach.’

  ‘I’ve got an upset body.’

  ‘Exactly! Not much of a fib, was it? Besides, you can do no wrong at the moment as top of the class!’

  Alice scowled.

  ‘Time’s getting on, you need to get dressed – places to go, people to see.’

  ‘People?’

  ‘OK, Finwips then.’

  ‘And what am I supposed to wear?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Your clothing dilemma will be solved when we get there. Hurry up.’ He closed the door as he left.

  Great, thought Alice, opening her wardrobe. She chose a yellow shirt and put it on back to front, only fastening the lowest buttons beneath her wings. She felt as if she were wearing a toddler’s art overall, with jeans and winter boots. Even brushing her hair was a challenge, as the upper part of her wings got in the way. She left it in a ponytail, dangling between them, threw the blanket over her wings and pulled it around herself like a cloak. She crept downstairs without disturbing her father and found Thomas waiting in the hallway. He was grinning.

  ‘You look like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.’

  ‘Shut up and help me put this cardigan on back to front,’ she snapped, reaching for her school one on the peg. ‘What about breakfast?’ she asked as Thomas did up the buttons behind her.

  ‘We’ll be well looked after where we’re going,’ he replied.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘You’ll see soon enough.’ He put the blanket back around her and ushered her out of the door.

  As they walked down Albany Road, the snow crunching beneath their feet, Alice felt terribly self-conscious and kept her head down. ‘Is anyone looking at me?’ she asked Thomas.

  ‘Relax, there’s no one around. Lucky for you it’s winter and you can cover up. You would look an idiot wearing that blanket-cloak in August!’

  They reached the new letterbox next to the giant oak tree. Thomas stopped and looked all around, making sure the coast was clear.

  ‘Now watch carefully and follow me,’ he instructed. He placed his hand inside the letterbox for a moment, palm upwards, then Alice heard a strange grating sound. A door slid open in the immense trunk of the oak tree. Alice’s jaw dropped, but before she could say anything, Thomas stepped inside and pulled her in. The door closed behind them.

  Inside it was dark and smelled damp. There were tiny specks of light glowing in the wall, but not sufficient to put Alice at ease. She had pretended to take yesterday’s events in her stride, but now she was really feeling the strain.

  ‘I don’t like this at all,’ she whined. ‘There’s not much room in here.’

  ‘Shhh, it’s only for a minute. Hold tight.’ Thomas guided her hand to a rail and they started to travel downwards.

  ‘Oh no, what next?’ groaned Alice, holding on for dear life with both hands, although they were actually travelling quite slowly. ‘Now a tree that’s turned into a lift!’

  ‘Perhaps now isn’t the time to tell you that it isn’t a real letterbox either.’

  ‘Yes it is, I posted your letter in it yesterday.’

  ‘I know. It was just a note to Imogen. That’s how we knew you were about to change. That letterbox can only be seen by Finwips. It’s a useful way to communicate with the village.’

  ‘Well, I’ve heard it all now,’ said Alice, shaking her head in disbelief and feeling rather stupid. ‘What village?’

  There was a gentle thud as the lift stopped. The door slid open and the smell of freshly baked banana bread and bubbling raspberry jam greeted them as their eyes adjusted to the light.

  ‘This one!’ said Thomas triumphantly.

  Chapter 4
/>   A Village Underground

  With trepidation, Alice stepped out into a long, vaulted passageway lit by burning torches. Considering they were underground, the village was astonishing. The walls, floor and ceiling were made of stone, as if an army of people had chiselled away for centuries to create their own secret dwelling. At regular intervals, there were round pillars supporting the structure, with great long drapes in thick, burgundy velvet behind them. On the walls, large bunches of herbs had been hung to dry. As Thomas cajoled her along, she noticed wide, arched wooden doors with brass signs on both sides of the passageway. ‘TAILOR & DRESSING ROOMS,’ she read. ‘LIBRARY.’ Then at least a dozen doors labelled ‘ACCOMMODATION.’

  ‘What an amazing place to stay!’ thought Alice. Then she spotted the most peculiar door. ‘TO THE STABLES.’ She wondered how on earth a horse would fit in that cramped tree lift. Perhaps a miniature pony could squeeze in... At the end of the passage the space widened and there were three arched doors, the largest, immediately in front of them, labelled ‘DINING HALL.’ The other two were ‘KITCHEN’ and ‘PANTRY.’ Thomas knocked at the dining hall door.

  ‘Are you ready?’ he asked Alice. She nodded.

  ‘Come in,’ called two female voices.

  Thomas pushed the door, which opened with a sinister creak. ‘Step inside,’ he said.

  Alice was dumbfounded. Standing a few paces in front of her were the most divine creatures she had ever seen. Willowy and elegant, with hair flowing down to the waist and gowns made of a shimmering fabric which Alice doubted could be made on earth. But...most importantly...they had wings.

  ‘Are they real?’ gasped Alice. She swiftly covered her open mouth with her hand, realising how silly that sounded.

  ‘Real Finwips, yes,’ answered the blonde one in the burgundy robe. ‘Welcome, Alice. I’m Freya.’

 

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