“But that’s no reason not to talk about him, don’t you think? Was she worried you might want to find him? Be with him? Go away from her?”
“No,” I quickly replied. “No, that’s not right. She would never think that.”
“Then why did she never tell you about him? Think hard.”
I did think hard. Eventually I said, “Because she wanted to protect me?”
The Wizard gave a hardly noticeable nod. “And if she didn’t want to tell you because she wanted to protect you, what sort of a friend of Oleander’s would I be if I started spilling out the beans the moment she dies?”
“So you met my father!”
He sighed. “Yes. I’ve met your father, Serendipity.” He twisted back to the metal toy he was fiddling with on the table. “And that’s all you need to know. Now I think it’s probably best if you never ask me about it again. As a mark of respect for your mother, you understand?”
I suddenly felt incredibly frustrated—pulled back and forth like a rope in a tuggle-war game. Here was a man who knew about my father, but he wasn’t going to tell me anything about him! Not because he didn’t want to. Not because he didn’t like me or because he wanted to hurt me. But because he cared about Mama.
* * *
“Must you go?” the Wizard asked. “So soon?”
“You’ve given me a burst in my heart,” I told him. “I was starting to doubt that there were any horses left alive.”
Tab pointed to his bandaged leg. “Thanks for this. Feels better already.”
“Here.” I pushed the scrunched-up map into his hands. “Keep it.”
“No, no,” the Wizard protested. “It is yours. Shy would—”
“Keep it,” I insisted. “I don’t need it anymore. I know exactly where I’m going.”
He nodded, grinned and took the map. “You know, the sea is a very beautiful thing. Whatever you do, keep going until you see the sea. See it and smell it and feel it on your skin.”
We went out back onto the pavement where BRAN was lolling in standby mode.
“One more thing,” I said, turning to the Wizard. “Why do you scare people away with BRAN? Don’t you like people?”
He laughed. “It’s not that I don’t like people. Not at all. But I have a role to play. ‘The Wizard on the Hill.’ That’s what they all call me. The children in the village expect me to play that role, and they play theirs—daring each other to get as near as they can, running away like frightened rabbits whenever I turn on BRAN.”
“But you scare them.”
“Do I? I’m not so sure I do. A little fear is essential for growing up, I believe. Without moments of controlled fear, how can you possibly learn anything about the incredible potential and possibilities of life? How can you judge between right and wrong? When do you see the outline of your own character? True bravery can only grow from being scared.”
I thought about Mama staying in Lahn Dan because she was scared about hurting or losing me, and I realized she must have been the bravest person I ever knew.
chapter 30
A DEBT REPAID
WE’D GONE MAYBE a mile or so when I noticed Tab smiling.
“What you so pleased with yourself for?” I asked him.
“What? Oh, nuffin.”
His grin didn’t do anything to persuade me that it was nothing.
“No. Go on. What is it?”
He gave a sort of wink before stopping and pulling something out of his pocket. He bent down on the ground and flicked whatever it was with his finger. A tiny whizz sounded and he straightened up.
“There,” he jibbered. “Tha.” The tiny robot that had somersaulted and hopped along the Wizard’s coffee table was now somersaulting and hopping along the buckled tarmac on the road. “S’cool, yeah?”
I froze.
“You … you stole it? You took it from the Wizard?”
“Yeah.”
I fought with myself, trying to find words that fitted this odd moment.
“But … You can’t just take things, not from anyone! And he trusted us, Tab. He helped you.” Tab’s eyes flickered guiltily before hardening. “And you stole from him.”
“Yeah … well…” His shoulders squared against me. “You were happy to steal those bikes from that bike shop, weren’t you? Yeah?”
“I wasn’t really, no. But that was different. Like you said, the man who’d made the bikes is dead. But the Wizard isn’t. You shouldn’t have taken it.”
“Listen to you, Little Miss … Little Miss … I dunno.” There was a bubble of anger in his voice. “With yer … up-yer-nose ideas. Too good to steal, aincha? Too … big and … big and important to steal. Well, I’m a smuggler. Right? Stealing’s what we do.”
“Stealing’s what you used to do,” I corrected him. “Stealing’s what you did when you were with the smugglers. But you’re not a smuggler now. You walked away from them.”
“Yeah, to help you,” he shouted. “To help you get away. Wish I hadn’t now.”
I stopped talking. It was obvious that if I kept on talking, Tab would talk right back, and then I’d talk back at him and we’d keep right on and on and get ourselves into a rolling stew of fury. So I stood without moving and looked at the ground.
“Wish I hadn’t…” His voice was faltering. Cracking. “Wish I’d … let the King take you back to the Minister. Wish I’d done that. I’d be okay, then … I’d be alright. Nobody … nobody wanting to kill me.”
I looked up at him. Suddenly, within just a couple of seconds, he’d gone from red-in-the-face mad to pitiful. I reached out and patted him on the shoulder.
“No one’s going to kill you,” I said.
“Yeah? Old Mordecai hasn’t given up on you yet, has he? Soon as he’s found you he’s gonna wanna ram me bones under the turf. That’s what Knottman said.”
“But you’re Tab the Magnificent,” I joked. “Tab the Incredible. Tab the Miraculous with his trusty sidekick, Mouse the Super Dog.” Tab kind of smiled through his sniffles. “What sort of a match for you is that moron Mordecai? Mordecai the Moron, eh?”
“True. Very true.” He was entering into the spirits of it. “Don’t stand a chance, do he?”
“Not a dicky-bird.”
“Course he don’t.”
We stood there for a few seconds before I started once again.
“We’d better take it back, though, don’t you think?”
Tab paused before nodding. “Yeah. I spose. Yeah. We’d better take it back.”
“For the best, eh?”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway,” I continued, “Mordecai the Moron hasn’t got a clue where we are. He’s not going to come after us now, is he?”
* * *
I couldn’t have been further from the truth.
As we cornered the road where the Terrace began, we came across a vicious and horrible scene.
“Tell me where they are!” Mordecai shouted at the uppermost end of his voice. “They came up here. WHERE ARE THEY?”
In front of him was the Wizard, kneeling uncomfortably, his lapels gripped tightly by Mordecai’s fists.
“I … don’t know … what you mean,” the Wizard said, his words all dry and forced. “Nobody’s been up here. Nobody. Not … recently.”
“Liar,” Mordecai smiled. “You lie! Someone down the hill told us they were here.”
“I don’t know … what you mean.” The Wizard kept up the act.
“Your face.” Mordecai looked momentarily puzzley. “It looks … familiar. Are you a traitor to the Minister? Are you an escapee?” Behind them, some of the Minister’s police men were standing around awkwardly, looking like they’d rather be somewhere else. “Tell me. Or I’ll—”
“Let him go!” I shouted.
Instantly, Mordecai dropped the Wizard, who fell clumsily to the pavement. “There! There they are.”
The Minister’s police men stirred, turning their heads to take us in.
“Leave him alone!�
�� I screamed. “Leave him alone. What harm has he done to you?”
Mouse started yelping and rushed towards the Wizard.
“Get them!” Mordecai shouted.
Anger suddenly filled me to the brimful. I stretched out my arms. “Go on then! If those are your orders, here I am! What are you waiting for? Come and get me!”
The police men all turned to one another, questioning.
“Go on! Get them!”
The police men did nothing.
“But…,” one of them started. “But they really are … just kids.”
“Yeah. Kids,” another one agreed.
“So what?” Mordecai answered. “Get them. On the Minister’s orders. Get them.”
“I’ve got kids of me own, back home.”
“Me too.”
Mordecai twisted his head. “I don’t care! Kill the boy. Get the girl. The quicker we do it, the sooner you can all see your children again.”
The Wizard was still lying on the ground, his head raised, taking it all in. Mouse was barking and grrr-ing at Mordecai, a nervous stutter twitching his feet.
One of the larger police men stepped forward. “I ain’t killing no kid. Not even on the orders of the Minister.”
“Me neither.” A slightly smaller one came alongside him. “It’s not right.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, Commander. You’re on your own.”
Mordecai turned to us. “Then”—he smiled again—“I’ll do it myself.”
His right hand flicked down to his side and a flash of steel appeared in the early evening light.
“No!” I shouted, throwing myself in front of Tab. “You can’t!”
Mordecai raised his hand and it twisted quickly in midair. Metal sliced through the sky between us, and at exactly the same moment, Mouse jumped up. Whether he thought it was some sort of game or whether he was trying to attack Mordecai, I didn’t know. A small part of me likes to think he did it to protect us—to stop the knife from hitting Tab or me. Whatever the reason, Mouse sprang up from the ground into the air and—
Clump.
The dog squealed as he fell to the ground, the knife jutting out of his side.
“Mouse!” Tab screamed from behind me.
“Get them!” Mordecai called in vain.
The next few seconds were filled with far too much. I crouched, scooping Mouse up in my arms as the sounds of a machine whirring into action smothered the horrible gaps in the air. The Minister’s men backed away in fear as BRAN rotated himself towards them.
“Look out!”
“It’s coming to get us!!”
“I said GET THEM!!”
“Quick, Tab. Run!” I said as the blood gushed out from the poor dog’s side. “RUN!”
Our feet hit the ground hard and fast. One of the modpods started up behind us.
“Come back,” Mordecai ordered.
“No fear,” I heard one of the police men call.
Thump. Thump. Thump. BRAN was stomping.
“No!”
Crash.
“Stop it!”
Crash. Crunch.
I didn’t turn to see what was happening. We just kept running. Running and running and running. We skirted down a little patchy path with tripping-up roots of trees and muddy smudges, our legs throwing us forward, away from the Terrace. Mouse’s limp chest puffed and gurgled, the blood trickling warmly down my arms and onto my legs. My head was dizzy and my eyes were wide, and we ran and ran, who knows for how long.
“In here!” Tab’s voice snapped me out of the fug and I spun around to see him, his face a mess of confusion and horror. He was pointing at a tree, the huge trunk all hollowed out leaving a sort of shelter.
He crawled in first and I got down on my knees and pushed my way in behind him.
We sat there quietly for a few seconds, listening. Listening for the sounds of following footsteps and madman yells. Guns and modpods. But there weren’t any.
Eventually Tab reached out and touched Mouse. “Is he…?” he asked. “Is he … dead? He’s not, is he?”
And then I started to cry.
I cried for Mouse. Brave little Mouse who took the knife instead of me. Scruffy little Mouse with his stiff, rough fur who’d sleep anywhere and eat anything. So easy to ignore, so easy to dislike, but so very, very brave when bravery wasn’t even asked of him.
But most of all I cried for Mama.
Mama. My beautiful mama. Mama who’d brought me into this world, who’d filled me full of herself, who would toss me into the sky with happiness and who’d set me free from the walls of Lahn Dan with her last ever, hopeless breath.
My mama.
I cried so easily.
So easily.
“Is he…?” The tears were rivuleting down Tab’s cheeks too.
My hand stroked the dog’s thick, dullish fur, sticky with blood. Mouse’s chest rose slightly, barely there.
“No,” I answered. “No, he’s still alive.”
“Oh, Mouse!” Tab leant across me and laid his head on Mouse’s side, careful not to go anywhere near the knife that stuck out of his body. “Oh, Mouse.”
We sat there for a forever, a tree trunk full of tears, waiting for Mouse to die. But his tongue kept lolling, his breath kept breathing and his tiny rib cage kept twitching up and down.
“I don’t understand,” Tab whispered eventually. “What happened back there? The Minister’s men—they didn’t want to kill me. And then … and then that robot thing started up. I don’t understand.”
“Me neither,” I said.
“How did it start up? The Wizard was on the floor. He wasn’t controlling it. It just started up on its own.”
I shook my head, but the thought of Mama kept swooping in. “Angels,” I answered. “Must have been angels.”
The day was slowly dying outside the tree when I heard the crunch of footsteps getting closer and closer. My eyes must have gone all wide-open because so did Tab’s. Once again his stubby little finger shot up to his lips to silence me.
“Mordecai!” he warned in a whisper. “He’s found us!”
I hugged Mouse closer to me. Mordecai had as good as killed Mouse, had wanted to kill Tab. But I wasn’t going to go back to Lahn Dan with the Commander. He was going to have to kill me too.
Crunch. Crunch.
The footsteps stopped frighteningly near us. A sort of swish noise as the someone outside spun on their feet. And then—
Quick as a slash, a face swept down into the trunk of the tree, blocking out the slowly ebbing blue of the early evening sky. Tab and I jumped, and braced ourselves for whatever was about to happen to us both. I noticed Tab’s fists were clenched hard and my hand was resting on the hilt of the knife, ready to pull it out of Mouse and plunge it into Moron’s head.
“Hello? Serendipity? Tab?”
The voice was soft, familiar. It was not Mordecai’s.
“Mr. Knottman?”
“There you are. Thank the God Man.”
“Mr. Knottman? What are you doing here?”
“Don’t worry about that now. Are you both okay?”
“Mouse,” I cried. “He stabbed Mouse.” I thrust Mouse forward so he could see. His hand slipped over the dog and he felt for his heart.
“He’s still alive. But he might not have much time. We need to be quick.” He took Mouse from my lap, cradling him in his arms, and stood. “Come on. Come with me.”
* * *
We made our way back to the Terrace, all of us under a sort of half-run hypnosis. As we neared the Wizard’s house, I could see that one of the modpods that Mordecai and his men had come in was completely smashed up, its side caved in and its wheels carbuncled beneath it. Nearby stood BRAN with strips of shredded steel hanging from his fists.
The Wizard waved us through the door and Mr. Knottman carried Mouse into the kitchen. He cleared a space on the worktop and placed the dying dog onto it. After explaining to the Wizard—who filled a bucket with water—he grabbe
d hold of the knife’s handle and pulled it straight out of Mouse’s chest. Mouse squealed in agony as a sudden rush of blood spurted out from the wound. Mr. Knottman threw water over it, packed it over with a bag of herbs that the Wizard handed him and then quickly wrapped a large, longish piece of cloth about Mouse’s torso and tugged it ultra-tight.
“This’ll stop the bleeding.”
“The herbs will take away any infection and help the healing,” the Wizard added.
We managed to dip some sugary water into Mouse’s mouth and were relieved to see his little tongue darting in and out to catch the drips. Then the Wizard made up a cozy bed next to the fire that was glowing away, and we tucked rugs and blankets around the dog, who was puffing and panting like a bellows. Tab squatted on the floor next to him, curling his body around Mouse and gently stroking his head.
“I’m sleeping here tonight,” he said.
The rest of us sank onto the Wizard’s chairs.
“So what happened?” I asked. “After we ran off? I heard BRAN, but—” It suddenly hit me like an arrow. “You!” I turned to face Mr. Knottman. “It was you who got BRAN to attack Mordecai.”
Knottman nodded.
“He got too close. Far too close to catching you both.”
Tab shuffled. “And it was you who got that explosion to happen when we were on the bridge, weren’t it?”
Knottman nodded again. “You needed the distraction. I watched you from the other side. It looked as if you were struggling so I rigged up one of the half-full gasworks and … Boom.”
“Hmmph. We were doing alright without yer, thank you very much.” Tab seemed to shrug in protest, but nobody paid any attention.
“Where’s Mordecai?” I asked. “Is he dead?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Knottman frowned. “But he’s on his own now. The rest of the police men have headed back to Lahn Dan without him. They all hated him as much as I did, it appears.”
“He’ll be off trying to find some new transport, heh-heh.” The Wizard smiled. “Did you see the damage that BRAN did to his truck? Polished it off good and proper.”
A Whisper of Horses Page 19
