Alfie Bloom and the Secrets of Hexbridge Castle

by Gabrielle Kent

  “Run, Alfie!” screamed Madeleine as it dropped towards him.

  Alfie didn’t move. He stared up into the eyes of the creature as it hurtled down through the night sky. With his mind fully focused on the talisman, he calmly took a deep breath and released the magic that begged to be free. It was as though he had released a ravenous beast from its leash as it flowed through him, exhilarated at being used. A beam of blinding white light shone out from the talisman as the magic poured out through his chest, channelled by the lens. Alfie felt invincible, as though he could do anything or have anything he wanted. And why shouldn’t you? whispered a little voice at the back of his mind. I can make your greatest dreams a reality…

  The dragon swooped down, terrible jaws gaping. The beam tore into it. A roar of pain filled the night as the light ripped through the creature’s chest. Alfie closed his eyes instinctively before it crashed into him, and he heard a dull thump as something landed on either side of where he stood.

  Alfie struggled against the dizziness he felt as the magic rushed back inside him, flowing back through the talisman to whatever secret place inside him it called home. It felt content, almost purring like a cat that had just been fed. Something about the sensation repulsed him and he had to fight hard against the sick feeling rising from his stomach.

  Robin was shouting something. Madeleine whooped with delight.

  “You did it!”

  Alfie opened his eyes. Lying on the cobbles, dazed and bloodied, were Murkle and Snitch, back in their most recent human form.

  “There they are,” shouted a pompous voice. “I demand you arrest them at once!”

  Lord Snoddington was marching across the village square with Inspector Wainwright and his officers in tow. Alfie thought he was one of the targets of his rage until the policemen dragged Murkle and Snitch to their feet. A bruised Edward and Hugo looked on from behind Lord Snoddington as he shouted, “The last person to lay a hand on a Snoddington swung from the gallows!”

  The rest of the villagers had wandered down the hill from the castle and were standing dumbstruck in the village square, staring at the fallen spire and dead ravens.

  “Alfie!” called his dad as he rushed over, followed by the Merryweathers. “What happened? I remember hearing shouting in the Great Hall, and then we saw fireworks down here. Lord Snoddington’s son said that he was attacked by your head teachers. Did they hurt you too?”

  “They’ll have me to answer to if they did!” added Granny. “I just wish I could clear my head – I feel as though I’ve been asleep for a week. For some reason I keep thinking about my old headmasters – they were almost as bad as those two.” She nodded towards the headmistress as they struggled and swore at the policemen that held them.

  Snitch managed to get one of her arms free and made a grab for Alfie. She pulled her hand back with a yelp. Aunt Grace had given it a bone-crunching thwack with Uncle Herb’s pipe, creating a little shower of red-hot tobacco embers. Snitch looked at her bruised and burnt knuckles in horror as the officers handcuffed her to Murkle and led them both across the square to the police station. Alfie gave a wry smile as he realized that they no longer had a scrap of power left.

  “Could someone explain what went on here?” asked Uncle Herb as he refilled his pipe. “One minute we’re watching a play, then there’s all this noise, and now we’re in the square surrounded by these poor dead birds.”

  Alfie didn’t answer. He had just spotted a familiar cloaked figure striding stiffly towards them.

  “Caspian!” he called, running towards him. “Are you OK?”

  “Just a knock,” replied the solicitor, wincing as Alfie grabbed his arm.

  “We’d all be dead if it wasn’t for you and the other ravens,” said Alfie. “You saved us. I don’t know how to thank you!”

  “Why would you need to do that?” said Caspian, raising an eyebrow. “I was merely guarding an asset our firm has been tasked with protecting.”

  “Me?”

  “Saving your life was simply a side effect of ensuring continued containment of the magic that you carry.”

  Alfie could hardly believe that even after all the bloodshed, Caspian still sounded so utterly practical and indifferent. “Did you see what happened? The magic made Murkle and Snitch human again.”

  “They were never human to begin with,” said Caspian. “The dragon had found a change magic that allowed it to alter its appearance. It had maintained a human guise for such long periods of time that it reverted to that form when your magic absorbed its own.”

  “So they can never turn back?” asked Alfie. Caspian shook his head.

  “A magical creature, trapped in two separate bodies for a human lifetime. I almost pity them.”

  Lord Snoddington had taken it upon himself to start ordering people around and was clearing a path through the square by kicking the raven corpses into a pile. He stopped and backed away slowly as Caspian’s furious black eyes burned into him.

  “Were they … like you?” asked Alfie.

  “Part human? No, these were not shape-shifters, but they were the best of the bravest of birds. When Ashford summoned me they answered my call, ready to die in battle or earn a tale to tell.”

  “Is Ashford hurt?” asked Alfie, humbled by the sacrifice of the ravens.

  “His pride hurts more than his body. For one such as him to be subjugated is rare indeed. He’ll feel the sting for some time.” A slight smirk flashed across Caspian’s face as if he took some slight pleasure in this. It vanished as quickly as it appeared and he flicked back his cape. “Now, to knit together the frayed ends in these people’s minds before they unravel completely.”

  Alfie helped him as he herded together the people milling around the square and led them back up the hill to the castle.

  “What are you going to tell them?” he asked, running to keep up with the solicitor’s long strides.

  “I’m going to help them put together a version of events that they are happy to believe,” said Caspian. “The minds of most adults are not as flexible and resilient as yours. Theirs have been manipulated and played with and are desperate to latch on to something solid to fill the gaps. I will simply facilitate their choice of memory and repair the damage done.”

  Everyone flocked back into the Great Hall. Alfie was amazed to see that the chairs were undamaged and everything was back exactly where it had been. It was as if nothing had happened. People breathed sighs of relief, settling happily back into their seats, as things seemed slightly more normal at last. Ashford was leaning against the stage, nonchalantly. He winked as Alfie caught his eye.

  “Mr Bone?” said Robin, as they were ushered to their previous positions at the back of the hall. “Do we have to be here for this? We’ve already spent two weeks being unable to believe the truth. I don’t want Alfie to be the only one who remembers what happened this time.”

  “Who will he talk to if we forget this?” said Madeleine. “I hate knowing that Murkle and Snitch stole our memories and turned us against him. I’m just starting to remember some of the things we forgot. Don’t make us lose this too.”

  Caspian turned to Alfie. “They have seen some of the power of the magic that you guard.” His voice had taken on a very serious tone. “The more people that know, the more dangerous life could be for you. Can you trust them with so powerful a secret?”

  Alfie looked at his cousins as they stared defiantly at the solicitor. He smiled. “Completely.”

  Alfie could hear Caspian begin to address the audience in a soothing, authoritative voice as they left the hall. He led his cousins out on to the drawbridge where they sat dangling their legs down over the moat. Madeleine and Robin both seemed to be avoiding looking at him. Their eyes were fixed downwards, watching the water rushing below their feet.

  “We’re so sorry!” Madeleine burst out suddenly.

  “We sh
ould have believed you—”

  Alfie cut Robin off before he could finish. “You don’t need to apologize.”

  “But you must have felt so alone,” said Madeleine, blinking back what might have been a tear. “I feel like we abandoned you.”

  “They did something to your heads – there was nothing either of you could do about it. If they hadn’t done that I know you’d have been there for me, all the way.”

  “Always,” said Robin, his face deadly serious.

  “At least they can’t mess with us ever again,” said Madeleine. After a moment of silence, she added quietly, “That thing you did to them – was that Orin’s magic?”

  Alfie nodded. “It was weird – like it was alive. While I was using it, I…” he paused and looked down at his shoes dangling over the rushing water below. Robin and Madeleine waited patiently for him to finish. “I felt so good – like I should be using it all the time, letting it out to feed and then using it to create anything I want.” He looked up from his feet. Madeleine and Robin were watching him in silence.

  “But I wouldn’t,” he added quickly. “It seemed so satisfied and pleased with itself after it fed on their power. I felt sick. I wanted it out of me. I never want to use it again.”

  “If that’s how it made you feel,” said Robin at last, “then I think Orin was right to give it to you.”

  “Exactly,” added Madeleine. “If Murkle and Snitch had taken it from you, there’s no way they would have held themselves back from feeding it and using it to create every terrible thing they wanted. It makes sense that it should be guarded by someone who doesn’t want to use it.” She gave Alfie a squeeze. “Come on, cheer up! It’s not every day you get to play King Arthur and slay a real dragon!”

  “You’ve got a point there.” Alfie smiled as he climbed to his feet. “Now let’s go.” He set off down the hill towards the village, turning to call back. “I need your help with something very important.”

  “Hey, Alfie! Christmas dinner is on the table.”

  “OK, Dad. We’ll be there in a minute,” called Alfie, his voice slightly muffled by the crisp white snow that blanketed the courtyard. He was sitting in the furthest corner of the garden chipping away at a stone slab under an ash tree. Setting down his dad’s hammer and chisel, he brushed away the snow and stone chips and sat back on his heels to examine his work. “Well, what do you think?” he asked.

  On the slab was carved a jagged outline of a bird with its wings spread in flight. Under the image he had painstakingly chiselled out the words:

  HERE LIES AN UNKINDNESS OF RAVENS, THE BEST OF THE BRAVEST OF BIRDS

  “It’s beautiful, Alfie,” said Madeleine, placing a sprig of mistletoe on top of the earth mound in front of the slab.

  “It’s a strange word for them, isn’t it?” said Robin, placing a sprig of holly next to the mistletoe. “‘An unkindness’. Yet Murkle and Snitch would probably have destroyed the village and everyone in it if the ravens hadn’t fought for you.”

  Alfie bowed his head and stood silently for a minute in front of the grave with Robin and Madeleine. Respects paid, they traced their own footprints back through the snow, following the delicious smells drifting from the castle. Icicles dangled from the branches of the great oak tree, sparkling in the afternoon sun.

  Alfie still limped slightly from his twisted ankle. The raven grave, the pain in his ankle and the healing claw mark on his chest were the only remaining traces of the battle that had been fought in Hexbridge only days earlier. Even the church spire had been mysteriously restored overnight. Alfie was very glad that he wasn’t the only one to remember their adventures this time – although thanks to Caspian, the adults seemed to have forgotten all of the magical elements of the night of the school play. Their only memories were of Murkle and Snitch being arrested for going spectacularly off their rockers and attacking pupils during the performance.

  “Hey, where did you guys go?” called Amy from the top of the stairs as Alfie stamped the snow from his boots at the door. She had arrived at the castle with her Gran the night before. Hopping on to the wide banister, she slid down towards him, somewhat faster than she seemed to expect thanks to Ashford’s polish.

  “Just saying goodbye to some friends,” said Alfie, dropping his coat to catch Amy as she flew off the end of banister.

  “Boots off and take your seats,” said Granny, bustling past with a tray laden with jugs of bread sauce, red-wine gravy and her special Christmas cranberry, tangerine and cinnamon sauce.

  The Great Hall looked like every Christmas fantasy rolled into one. A gigantic fir tree stretched almost from floor to ceiling, dripping with beautiful carved ornaments, coloured glass baubles and fairy lights. The huge oak table was laden with a feast fit for a king and his entire court. There was a roast leg of lamb studded with garlic and rosemary, bowls of buttered sprouts, honey-coated carrots, crispy golden potatoes, a gigantic turkey and a huge roast ham glistening with a honey glaze. Alfie sat down near a platter of little sausages wrapped in bacon and claimed six of the crispiest ones as quickly as he could.

  Artan lay silent and grinning in front of the log fire that crackled away merrily in the hearth. Alfie could tell that the bear was enjoying watching everyone pull crackers and read out the silly jokes inside. Amy stuck on the false moustache and eyebrows from her cracker and wiggled them up and down until they fell into her potatoes. Ashford seemed quite recovered from being knocked out by Murkle but was under strict instructions not to do any work that day. Granny pushed him back into his seat every time he moved to help out.

  Amy’s gran, Lizzie, had made the most delicious desserts: plum pudding with chocolate-orange sauce, a fruity Christmas cake topped with a little village made out of marzipan and icing, and a heap of small spherical cakes dipped in white chocolate and coconut so that they looked just like snowballs.

  After dinner, Alfie’s dad revealed something he had been working on for months: a small solar- and water-powered engine. He had rigged it up to a large toy train that ran on tracks around the huge Christmas tree. Everyone applauded as the train tooted and began to puff and chugg its way around the tree, steam billowing from its little funnel.

  “Wow, Mr B, look at it go!” said Amy as the train whizzed faster and faster around the track.

  “You do know how to stop it, don’t you, Dad?” asked Alfie as pine needles began to rain down from the tree with the heat of the steam. Before his dad could answer, the train flew off the track. The twins leapt out of the way as it whistled past them, shooting across the floor to smash into the far wall. The train gave one last shuddering gasp and wheezed into silence, except for the tink-tink-tink of cooling metal.

  “Not bad at all,” said Alfie’s dad happily. “Definitely a lot more stable than last month.”

  Alfie shook his head and watched Ashford as he began working with Robin on the wooden puzzle cube the twins had bought him for Christmas. He realized that he didn’t even know if the butler had any family of his own. He was still a mystery, but had been a great help in defeating Murkle and Snitch. Alfie wondered if he would have need of his help again anytime soon.

  The responsibility of bearing the magic and living in a castle that guarded the last dragon gateway, and probably countless other secrets, was starting to weigh heavily upon Alfie. The feeling the magic had stirred inside him as he used it against the dragon had been terrifying. In that moment he had understood its power and how easily it could corrupt anyone willing to keep using it. No wonder Orin had sought to hide it. He hoped that somehow he would be able to meet the druid again soon. He had so much to ask and was starting to wonder if he would ever feel truly safe again.

  “Think fast, Al!” shouted Amy. A ball of wrapping paper bounced off his face and into his pudding. Within seconds a paper fight was in full swing. Alfie pushed all worries from his mind for today and threw himself into the battle. He had so much to
be grateful for: loyal friends – both mortal and magical – an amazing home, but best of all, he had a family again.

  Acknowledgements

  There are many people that helped Alfie Bloom all the way from idea to print and I am forever grateful for their support, feedback and cups of tea. I’d like to take this opportunity to say thanks to:

  Mum and Dad, you showed me new worlds within the pages of books and encouraged me to create my own. Thirty-four years later, here it is!

  Those who visited Hexbridge first, Chris, James, Rebecca, Anoushka, Somduth, Elisabeth, Madeleine, you did a wonderful job of tidying the place up for everyone else.

  Rhianna, for providing me with the most important writerly tomes, and for teaching me the secret author fistbump.

  Carol Anne, Andy and Lucy, without our day trip to Castell Coch the idea for this book might never have taken hold.

  Ben and Helen, for believing in Alfie all the way.

  Gabrielle Kent has worked in and around the games industry since 1997 and currently lectures in Computer Games Development at Teesside University. As well as teaching, she directs Animex, the UK’s largest Games and Animation Festival. In 2015 she received games magazine MCV’s Woman of the Year Award. She loves writing just as much as games and dreams of one day writing books in the library of her very own castle. Alfie Bloom and the Secrets of Hexbridge Castle is her first novel.

  gabriellekent.com

  @GabrielleKent

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