by Barbara Else
With the little screwdriver and pliers, he and Sibilla worked out where to put a tiny metal coil, and the bird’s head fitted like … no, that didn’t work. The squirrel crept over. It nudged a silver coil with a paw, then a silver screw, a golden nut, a tiny bolt, three small shards of dark red stone – jasper, like the King’s name – that went where a real bird would have its heart. Whenever Sibilla touched the bird, the metal felt almost alive in Hodie’s grasp. It was just her warm hands, of course. Nothing magic.
He still refused to even look in Allana’s direction. She hugged her arms around herself, and stood out on a little balcony, her back to the room.
At last Sibilla held the bird up, back together except for tail feathers. “It can’t fly without some,” she murmured.
The squirrel tck-tcked, then turned its back and fluffed its tail.
“Good idea,” said Hodie.
With a pair of Allana’s scissors, Sibilla snipped three of the least ragged strands from the squirrel’s tail and held them to the metal bird’s rear end. A lot less than perfect. But with a dab of Allana’s glue the strands held firm. Sibilla ferreted through the bits and pieces on the work table, and found three small green feathers to add to the rear attachment.
Allana came back in when Lu’nedda returned from the bathroom, ringlets bouncing. “Children playing so nicely,” Lu’nedda said. “It is good for child to have friend. I never had friend till I was ten.” She smiled at Allana, who smiled back as if it was something of a strain.
Sibilla crept behind the sofa and Hodie heard her whisper to the bird. “Jasper, Prowdd’on has the dragon-eagle. I saw it. I think that’s why he left Fontania so fast. I’m in Um’Binnia…” Her head popped up near Hodie’s. “How will the bird get out of here?” she whispered.
“Keep it hidden till we find a way,” he whispered back.
Murgott’s eye was on him and Hodie remembered he had promised not to tell the Queen about The Ties. But, if he had a chance, he could whisper to the bird himself. King Jasper ought to know.
The Princessa was saying something to his mother. “Your boy must have new boots. Fine leather boots.”
Hodie grabbed his battered ones and shoved his feet in. “I’ve got these!” He stood up, but the string around the soles fell apart at his first step.
“We can argue later,” his mother said to him. “We both need time.” She sounded very much like Lady Helen talking to her children. Maybe all mothers sounded like that. “The children need food. Lu’nedda, you too. Lunch time.”
There was no point in a Queen not eating. No point in Hodie starving, either. Lunch was a small choice, but a good one to make right now.
~
22
what to say or not
about that moustache
Hodie sat at the table in his holey socks, a plate of scrambled eggs steaming in front of him. He screwed up his nose. Allana took his fork – did she want to feed him? He grabbed it back, tested the eggs and decided that once you got used to it, warm food was fairly nice. The others were eating scrambled eggs as well. Murgott pushed his about as if he would have done a better job of cooking them.
What was going to happen next? Where was his father? And, at the right moment, Hodie or Murgott had to tell Sibilla what the Um’Binnians thought was in the bag. Not now, because his mother watched him across the table. She’d been worried about his leg – it had felt strange to see that, actually, and Hodie wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. Anyway she was still a traitor. And a spy. But how nice it would be to have a moment with a normal mother and say, “Have you heard from Dad lately? How is he doing?” or, “I finally figured out how to use a hacksaw,” and other normal things that Hodie had heard families (even royal ones) chat about.
Lu’nedda finished her lunch and rushed into another room, where there was plenty of rustling. Hodie saw a red high-heeled boot bowl over the floor, several hats, an orange net petticoat with layers of ribbons.
From where Hodie sat, he could also see the old bag, still on the work table. The missing Ties? What a laugh. A battered cup, mouldy old beads and a useful spanner.
As he stared at it, frowning, the bag twitched. Hodie blinked. Then, through the closed drawstring, something black and whiskery appeared. It was the fake moustache! Hodie blinked again. It crept out like a slow, medium-sized guinea pig, then crawled down the table leg and away under a cupboard. Hodie put a hand over his eyes – he must be suffering from travel weariness and too many shocks.
He looked up again at the sound of more rustling. Lu’nedda appeared in a very big blue and pink Um’Binnian frock. She wore a top hat made of pink net stuff, and pink fingerless mittens. Her blue boots had sparkly laces (maybe with sapphires), and her stockings had a sequin stripe. Hodie heard Murgott take in a breath as if he was about to sneeze (though more likely it was another poem coming on).
Lu’nedda looked determined and excited. She clapped her hands once. An ogre entered. “I am ready for reunion with my father, Great Prowdd’on. My father knows I am back, and safe and well? My father wait for his daughter, Princessa Lu’nedda?”
The ogre looked as if he braved a sudden stomach pain. “Princessa, I try before lunch to tell him you are here. Gree’sle say Emperor is not to be bother.”
“Hmmm.” Lu’nedda gave a tight smile. “The Emperor has great city to control and war to fight. He is supremely busy.”
The ogre bowed. “Princessa, Emperor has gone to Great Zoo. To open magnificent new cage. Biggest cage yet.”
The Princessa looked pleased and even more determined. “I will go there unexpectedly and over-joy him in front of crowd. I will announce what I have brought for him. He will be excited and in great expectation. He will think I risk my life to get dear father what heart desires.”
Hodie’s mother didn’t look as if she agreed, but Lu’nedda smoothed her fingers in the lacy pink mittens. “Now, my only friend must come with me. And her son, who now lives with us. Get boy ready, Allana, and yourself.” She looked at Murgott and Sibilla (in her cap) and made a face. “Bother. How to keep eye on tag-alongs? They must come too. But little boy must take cap off when he sees Prowdd’on.”
“Y’know what kids are like, ma’am.” Murgott touched his forehead in a little salute. “Lay a finger on that cap and he throws a first-rate tantrum.”
Sibilla looked slightly shocked, then very pleased.
“In that case, keep nasty little boy well under thumb and out of sight.” Lu’nedda rearranged the flounces on her skirt and admired her own boots.
Hodie’s mother came to help him off the chair. He didn’t need help. He didn’t want her to touch him. Her hands were gentle, her scent warm as he remembered, like a flower. He shrugged her away. His leg only hurt a little bit. So he should be able to get away, to help Murgott get Sibilla out of Um’Binnia.
“We might be wise to dress both boys as Um’Binnian, Lu’nedda,” said Hodie’s mother. “And there is a chance that Gree’sle could recognise Murgott.”
“Gree’sle – ugh!” Lu’nedda said. “Disguise. Useful idea.”
Allana considered Sibilla. “We could disguise you as a girl. Now your face is cleaner, it could work well.”
“Yuck! A girl!” Sibilla made a strangling sound as if she was going to throw up.
Murgott’s face had gone sweaty again. Hodie had gone sweaty too. “Tantrum,” Murgott said. “That’s just the first stage.”
Lu’nedda tossed a narrow-brimmed Um’Binnian hat at Murgott and gave him a brown cloak. She gave Hodie a cap, and cloaks to Sibilla and Hodie, dark green ones that came halfway down Hodie’s calves but reached Sibilla’s ankles.
An ogre fetched Hodie new socks, and a pair of brown boots with studs and ankle straps. Far better than Murgott’s best ones. Hodie found himself stroking the leather and wiggling his toes to settle them in. Then he noticed Murgott noticing, and sto
pped.
Lu’nedda threw a dark blue cape around her shoulders and buttoned it over her bright dress. “I am in disguise too, till I am revealed. Now come,” said the Princessa. “Allana, put cape on, and off we go to Great Zoo.”
“No,” Hodie said, sweating like mad. “I have to leave the city now. This other boy and Murgott must come too. Thank you for the boots. And cloaks. Thank you for lunch,” he added.
“Leave …” Hodie’s mother took a step towards him, then stopped with her hands in a double fist. “Leave the city?” She exchanged a glance with the Princessa. “Oh, Hodie – even if you could get out, there is only the mountain and the Great Salt Moat. Nobody can swim the Great Salt Moat.”
“I’m not frightened of the ocean.” Hodie looked right at his mother. Deep in her eyes he saw a flicker of something that surprised him and made him feel warm – a flicker that meant she was proud of him. This was a good moment about his mother. It would probably be the only one.
“But the Toads,” Murgott said, “the Ocean Toads …”
“Shut up.” Lu’nedda glared at Hodie, threw the apartment door open – then marched back to the work table. “I must make sure Gree’sle cannot sneak and notice this.” She slung the drawstring bag into a small cabinet, turned a tiny key on it and dropped the key in her handbag. She marched to the door again and waited, blue boot tapping.
The others crowded to the door. Hodie tested a few paces in his boots first, then caught up with Sibilla. She carried her bag with the bird in it. “How are your blisters?” he whispered.
“They’ve all popped,” she muttered. “Very gooey.”
It didn’t take as long going down as it had coming up, but stairs were like that. The squirrel hopped between them like a mangy grey ghost. Why had it adopted them? Or had they adopted it? Some questions, Hodie knew, just couldn’t be answered.
~
23
how to travel to the Zoo
At the side door, Hodie expected them to hire another ogre carriage. Instead, Lu’nedda waved a hand, and two low-slung cycle-chairs rolled up, pedalled by dwarfs.
“Keep heads down,” said Lu’nedda. “And cloak collar up as if we do not like bad city-smell.”
“I certainly don’t,” muttered Sibilla.
Lu’nedda frowned. “Do not attract attention. Surprise, that is what I am after. Happy surprise for Great Prowdd’on, and bad surprise for Gree’sle. Allana – take a happy-family moment with your boy.”
She hauled Sibilla with her into a cycle-chair. Sibilla gave Hodie and Murgott a horrified glance, and clamped a hand tight to her cap. Hodie’s mother hesitated. Murgott eyed her, then Hodie, and scooped the squirrel with him into the Princessa’s cycle-chair. Sibilla blinked with relief. But it left Hodie and his mother on their own.
~
Hodie pretended he was too busy looking at the city to look at Allana. He leaned out, cloak over his nose. The bad smells were ripe. The cycle-chair rolled past stalls that sold handbags, scarves, and cheap toys that would break as soon as the shopkeeper had your dolleros. If you had any dolleros in the first place. Hodie didn’t and never had, which was in large part because of his mother. He didn’t count those dolleros from Murgott because he’d only had them for minutes before they fell down the pulley tower along with the pie, lemon cordial and whiffy blanket.
The cycle-chair with Sibilla trundled ahead. Hodie gave a small wave but she didn’t see. Bag on her lap, she was peering up each flight of stairs. Seeking a way out for the bird, of course. She’d better not let it go in public – it would definitely draw attention.
Hodie sat back. That meant his shoulder touched his mother’s. It felt as if a current rippled through him. He made himself as narrow as he could.
His mother stirred and cleared her throat. “Your name isn’t really Hodie,” she said. “It’s Ro’lan …”
“My name is Hodie. Only Hodie.”
“I know you’re angry. Of course you are. I understand.” His mother clasped her hands tight on her lap.
“More probably you don’t.” He sounded like any ordinary boy grumbling at any mother, but it was hardly another good moment.
“There were many reasons why you and I could not be together.”
“Dardy and I lived like nobodies,” Hodie said. “But you lived with a Princessa. I’m not sorry for myself – well, sometimes I am, but I try to get over it. I’m sorry for you. And sorry for my father. He might be a spy too, but he wasn’t happy very often.”
“A spy?” His mother cleared her throat again. “Hodie, you have every right to be furious with me. But why with your father? And – a spy! No, Hodie …”
He made the first sound of an angry sentence, then stopped. “I didn’t say I was furious. I said I was sorry. And I don’t understand why you’re a spy.”
His mother’s voice shook. “I’m not a … Hodie, I don’t have much time to explain. Listen, please. When Lady Gall began ruling Fontania, Lady Helen was very worried. She knew how wicked, how selfish Lady Gall was, and decided it was best to hide all the royal treasures so that Lady Gall couldn’t get her hands on them – she would have tried to use them wrongly or even destroyed them. I promised Lady Helen that I would take The Ties and …”
“But …” Hodie began.
“Hush.” His mother glanced at the cycle-chair dwarf. “Excuse me,” she called, “could you entertain us by singing the latest hit?”
The dwarf groaned, but broke into a hum. Allana talked under cover of the tune. “Without The Ties, the dragon-eagles won’t survive …”
“I know that’s what people think,” whispered Hodie. “But even if they are so important, why did you have to do anything? Why were you the one who had to hide them? You should have said no.”
“I was Lady Helen’s Chief Attendant …”
“She ordered you to do it?”
“Shush – I was at school with her. She’s my dear friend…” His mother looked into Hodie’s eyes. In hers, he saw feelings jostling to fly out. “I had to help for the sake of magic. For the sake of Lady Helen’s little son. I didn’t have a child of my own then, nor a husband. I just had a loving friend, Lady Helen, who needed help.”
The dwarf sang. The Emperor’s arms are very wi-iide/Stretching from the imperial si-iide …
The cycle-chair jolted up a ramp to the next street. Like any mother, Allana reached out to stop Hodie knocking his head. He pulled away.
His mother whispered urgently. “Hodie, I decided on my own to bring The Ties to Um’Binnia. It seemed the most unlikely place. Such a bad choice! But I met the Princessa. What a sad child she was – no mother, everyone too afraid to be her friend. I also met your father – we married and had you – and still I kept The Ties safely hidden. Your father…” Her hands folded together as if she held something precious like a memory. “I could have told him about The Ties, but I kept my promise to Lady Helen.”
Hodie still didn’t understand. His mother’s hand came over his.
“Your father was the first inventor of wind-travel. He was brave, kind and clever. I miss him still.”
Why didn’t she just say where Dardy was? Mothers were maddening.
She choked back a sigh and spoke more quickly. “When Fontania was saved from Lady Gall, I was free to go back home. But it had to be in secret. I had said so often how much I loved living in Um’Binnia – well, I had to say that. So people would have asked very awkward questions. And everyone, everywhere, was wondering what had happened to the Fontanian treasures. If Prowdd’on had ever realised I had The Ties he’d have taken them – he’d been wanting them for years, out of sheer greed.” She glanced again at the dwarf, then continued. “My mistake was going at the last minute to say goodbye to Lu’nedda – she was still only sixteen, and very upset. Gree’sle overheard. He suspected I might have The Ties, and stopped me from leaving with Dardy and
you.”
The dwarf sang loudly … teeth are glittering and bi-iig/All his own hair but looks magnificent in wi-iig …
Allana whispered. “Dardy, in his turn, overheard Gree’sle calling the guards – I broke away for just a moment and cried out to Dardy to escape with you and not give the bag to anyone – to wait for me to join him. Then I was trapped. I didn’t know how to send Dardy a message, and I didn’t hear from him at all. I knew Fontania did not have The Ties, and I thought he and you had died – on the Moat, or in the Stones.”
His mother’s face was too full of sorrow for Hodie to look at. She was still whispering, and sounded exhausted. “I’ll examine the bag again when Lu’nedda isn’t watching. If it is the right one, I must find a way to send it to King Jasper. Perhaps Corporal Murgott could do it.”
So many thoughts jangled in Hodie’s brain. “There must be a mistake. The stuff in the bag looks like old junk. Why didn’t my father just show someone who could explain?”
Allana’s head jerked up. “Your father! No, Hodie – how do I tell you? Dardy isn’t your father. Dardy is Fontanian. He was my servant.”
The awful thing was, Hodie knew at once this was the truth.
The dwarf sang on. Great Prowdd’on’s smiles are very ki-iind/When he punish you, you mustn’t mi-iind …
Allana kept her voice low. “If only I’d told Dardy to give the bag to Lady Helen – he had no way of knowing it contained the royal treasures. I only learned a few months ago that he was alive. Gree’sle’s men discovered him, had him dragged back to Um’Binnia. Poor Dardy – now he’s forced to tend the Ocean Toads. Their poison will kill him. He must realise by now about The Ties, but I don’t think he has told the Emperor. I have not been not allowed to speak to him. Gree’sle watches me all the time …” She brushed a hand over her eyes. “But I was telling you about your father. Your father was Lord Fer’nan of Um’Binnia – so brave, so clever. Oh, my son, you look very like him. He died in a wind-travel experiment two years after you were born – before Lady Gall was defeated.”
