Dragon Amber

by C. J. Busby

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep anyway. I’ll come and join you by the fire – we can finish off the last bits of supper.”

  Ollie blushed and looked at his toes. He was a tall, lanky lad, a year or so older than her, Cat thought. But he was obviously not used to consorting with fine ladies in their nightwear. Cat gave him an encouraging pat on the back, which made him blush even harder, and indicated the chairs by the fireplace.

  “Come on,” she said. “You can tell me all about the palace. I know nothing. But … I’m worried. Something’s not right. Maybe you can help me work out what.”

  Ollie swallowed, and nodded, and they settled down by the fire with a plate of leftovers between them. Cat was good at drawing people out, and before long Ollie was telling her all about his home village and his job at the palace – the strict hierarchies and rules, and the problem of staying on the right side of Lord Ravenglass.

  “So,” said Cat cheerfully, demolishing the last of a bowl of sticky dates. “Have you ever done anything really bad? Anything you’d get really punished for if they found out?”

  Ollie hesitated, as if trying to decide something. “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”

  Cat nodded.

  “Well, then,” said Ollie. “There was this thing – only a week or so ago. I got lost in the cellars and I found a man in some sort of strange ice cave, chained up. It was … like a place that wasn’t really there, if you know what I mean. And then Lord Ravenglass came down to talk to him, and I scarpered.” He looked across at Cat, frowning. “Thing is – I think they mentioned your name. When they were talking … Catrin, they said. And Simon. That’s you and your brother, isn’t it?”

  Cat nodded, her eyes fixed on Ollie’s dark brown ones. “What – what did you think of him? The man in chains?” she said, and held her breath. It felt as if his answer was somehow very important.

  Ollie held her gaze. “He frightened me,” he said. “He was the scariest person I’ve ever seen. Including Lord Ravenglass.”

  Cat let out her breath in a rush. That was it! That was what was bothering her! Despite the fact that the man in the ice appeared to be her dad, despite the fact that she was convinced with her rational mind that he was, in fact, Gwyn Arnold, there was something about him that made her feel very, very frightened.

  Cat leant over to Ollie and said in a low tone, “There’s something wrong here. I’m not sure what. But I need to find out. Will you help me?”

  Ollie straightened his shoulders and nodded. “Of course. If I can.”

  “Good,” said Cat. “I wonder … could you take me to the queen?”

  Ollie turned pale.

  “Th–the queen?” he said. “Me – an ordinary under-footman? If I’m found anywhere near the queen’s chambers they’ll sack me on the spot!”

  “Please,” said Cat. “I think she might be the only one who knows what’s going on. It’s really important!”

  Ollie swallowed, and then nodded. “Okay. I might be able to get you there. I know a few shortcuts. With a bit of luck we won’t be seen.”

  “Excellent!” said Cat, and gave him a beaming smile. Ollie blushed again, and they tiptoed together to the door.

  Although it was well past midnight, the corridors of the palace were by no means empty. A few servants were still in evidence, hauling wood for fires, collecting boots to clean, taking late-night snacks to wakeful lords or courtiers. And some of those courtiers themselves were reeling back to their quarters after a late-night drinking party, or scurrying about dealing with some impossible task set by Lord Ravenglass or one of his deputies. Cat and Ollie had to move cautiously, and frequently found themselves diving into an alcove or behind a tapestry to let a group of noisy third-degree noblemen march past.

  They were just about to emerge from one of these alcoves, not far from the queen’s rooms, when Cat saw something that made her feel suddenly cold. Stalking along the corridor were two tall, thin figures with black hair, dressed in identical glossy black suits. They were walking purposefully towards Lord Ravenglass’s chambers, and the air around them almost crackled with the force of their anger.

  Cat froze. As the two men passed the alcove, she turned to Ollie. “Can we follow them?” she mouthed. He hesitated, and then beckoned her back the way they’d come. Hardly making a sound, he led her into a large unlit chamber. In one wall, two ornate double doors obviously led into the adjoining room, but they were closed, the glowing light from the room beyond just visible through the crack where the doors met.

  Tiptoeing to the doors, they found they could hear voices from the other side, and when Cat put her eye to the crack, she glimpsed one of the dark-suited figures as he stalked past, and heard his nasal voice.

  “Gone! When we broke into the chamber there were just two local idiots, who scarpered. The forest agents must have taken the fire amber to another world, but there’s no trace of where.”

  “We’ll find them,” said a second voice. “And when we do … we’ll crush them.”

  The second voice was dry, hoarse. Cat had heard it before. It made her feel light-headed with fear.

  “Your zeal does not in the least make up for your incompetence,” came a third voice. It was Lord Ravenglass, and he sounded to be in a fine temper. “This is the second time you’ve failed. Worlds above! Must I do everything myself? It’s just as well for you that the other part of our plans is proceeding satisfactorily. We have the earth amber from the girl. It’s a start. We’ll just have to work on recovering the fire amber another way.”

  There was a murmur – from Mr Smith, Cat thought – and then the voice of Lord Ravenglass again, icy with anger.

  “Oh go away, both of you! Come back when you have something more positive to report. But if you fail me again … I’ll have your eyes.”

  Cat found she was trembling. She couldn’t think straight. One part of her seemed to be rejoicing in the news that Lord Ravenglass had failed to get the fire amber – another part of her was devastated. How would they save her father without it? Gradually she became aware of Ollie, standing next to her. His hand was on her shoulder and his worried face close to hers.

  “Are you all right, Lady Catrin?” he was whispering. “Are you ill?”

  Cat shook her head. “No – no, I’m fine. Can – can we go and find the queen, now?”

  Ollie nodded and took her by the hand. She felt peculiar – as if she were not really in her body. Her head was pounding but she could barely feel any other part of her. Ollie pulled her along gently and she followed, trying to focus but not really succeeding.

  Luckily they met no one else. The queen’s quarters were very close by and there was no guard on the plain, narrow servant’s corridor that ran parallel to the official entrance. The queen’s lady-in-waiting was fast asleep in the antechamber by the fire, and the queen herself was snoring like a rhinoceros in the middle of her ornate four-poster bed. Cat closed the bedroom door gently and then turned to the rather plump figure in the bed.

  “This is the queen?’ she said to Ollie, surprised by how un-regal the old lady looked. Ollie, rather pale, nodded.

  “If I’m found here, in her bedroom, they’ll – they’ll probably hang me,” he said in a faint voice, as if suddenly rather appalled at what Cat had managed to persuade him to do.

  “It’ll be all right,” whispered Cat, although she wasn’t convinced it would be. For some reason it had seemed important to go to the queen, but now she was here she wasn’t sure what to do. Her hand went up to her throat and she pulled absently at the locket. As she did so, she noticed that around the queen’s neck was what was obviously the kingdom’s own piece of amber, a glowing jewel on a silver chain. Cat reached out to touch it with her other hand, and as she did so the queen opened her eyes.

  Cat jumped backwards, startled, as the queen sat up. Ollie dived instantly under the bed and pulled his long legs in after him. The queen pushed her white hair back from her face and turned her blue eyes que
stioningly on Cat.

  “Umm … Y-your M-majesty …” stammered Cat. Her head was really pounding now, but in the middle of the beat that was reverberating round her skull there was a small voice that appeared to be urging: Open the locket … open the locket … open the locket.

  The queen smiled at her and reached out to point at the pendant round Cat’s neck.

  “There’s a really fizzing halo of magic round that pendant,” she said in an interested voice. “Has it got a ghost in it?”

  Great-Aunt Irene! thought Cat. Of course! How could she have forgotten? Great-Aunt Irene had folded herself into the locket and said that if they ever needed her, they just had to open it. Cat clutched at the pendant, and at the same time the voice in her head seemed to grow to the volume of a shout. JUST OPEN THE LOCKET!

  Blindly Cat felt for the clasp and got her fingernails under it. She pulled apart the two halves of the locket and out of it flew a quantity of silvery dust, which almost immediately resolved itself into the shape of a rather stately old lady with a silvery cane.

  “At last!” she said, rapping her cane on the floor with a very real-sounding tap. “Couldn’t think how to get past that spell Ravenglass put you under. But getting you to the queen seemed like it might help. And now I’m finally out, we can take that enchantment off you and start making plans.”

  She beamed at Cat and then bowed to Queen Igraine, who was looking rather startled. Then she frowned down at the floor and pointed with her cane at Ollie’s boots, sticking out from under the bed.

  “Would somebody care to tell me,” she said in a disapproving voice, “who is on the other end of those feet?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  For a rather portly man, Albert Jemmet was surprisingly light on his feet. He had managed to climb almost to the ramparts of the palace using a convenient tree and an ancient rusting pipe designed to carry water from the palace roof to the kitchen garden below. Now he was resting, in the corner between a buttress and the East Tower, and contemplating the final bit of the climb.

  He’d arrived at the palace just before dawn, but the sky was starting to lighten now and pink streaks were visible in the east. Albert took a deep breath and reached up, finding a slight crack between the stones for his fingers to get a purchase. He felt with his boots for a tiny ledge a few feet above where he was standing, uttered a quick prayer to the guardians of the forest, and started to climb.

  Five minutes later, after a couple of heart-stopping moments when he’d missed his foothold, Albert hauled himself astride the ramparts and looked to left and right. He’d deliberately chosen the oldest and least-used corner of the palace, and his luck held. There were no guards patrolling. Albert slipped over the wall and moved swiftly towards a small door that led into the East Tower.

  Simon woke to find Albert Jemmet sitting on the end of his bed, chewing a toothpick.

  “Aha,” Albert said, when he saw Simon looking at him. He pointed with the toothpick. “You’ve led us a merry dance and no mistake.”

  Simon’s head hurt. He felt strangely pleased to see Albert’s shrewd, no-nonsense face beaming at him, and then immediately appalled. Albert was a forest agent. He’d helped to capture and imprison his dad! Simon reached for his sword, but Albert put his hand down on it firmly.

  “Not a good idea,” he said. “I’m not sure what sort of nonsense Ravenglass has been telling you, and I’m not about to let you use that sword on me before we sort out what’s what. Where’s Cat?”

  Simon glanced through the bedroom door at the empty sitting room. “I don’t know – isn’t she in her bed?”

  Albert shook his head. “Servant’s asleep – I put a hex on her myself to keep her that way – but Cat appears to have gone.”

  Simon ran his hands through his hair. He wasn’t sure whether he should shout for help or try to run for it. More than anything, he found that Albert’s presence on the bed was making him feel very relieved, but he couldn’t work out at all why that should be.

  Albert leant forward and gently took hold of Simon’s shoulders. He looked seriously into his eyes and then sighed.

  “So … was it your dad?”

  “My … dad?” said Simon, feeling light-headed and peculiar.

  “Did he appear as your dad?”

  Simon felt as if he had swallowed a piece of lead. He could feel the weight of it travelling down his throat and settling heavily in his stomach. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He nodded.

  Albert’s blue eyes were as angry as Simon had ever seen them. He passed his hands over Simon’s head, as if wiping away cobwebs, and then brushed them together briskly.

  “Had a spell on you,” he said shortly. “You’d nearly broken it yourself. He’d have had to renew it today for sure.” He patted Simon on the knee and then handed him the sword.

  “This was your dad’s sword,” he said. “You can wear it proudly. He was a good man, and a great friend to the forest. But he is dead, Simon. I’m sorry.”

  Simon closed his eyes. He felt as if a yawning hole had just opened up beneath him, as if he was plummeting down to the depths of the earth. His hand closed on the sword hilt and he gripped it hard, and then opened his eyes.

  “If that wasn’t Dad, then … who?” he said. His voice was croaky.

  “Lukos,” said Albert. “He’s a shape-shifter. He can appear as anyone. He knew what your dad looked like – they’d crossed swords before, so to speak.”

  “When?” said Simon.

  “Long time ago now. They were forest agents, your dad and Lou. Did you know that?’ said Albert. “Good ones, too. It was a thumping loss to the forest when your dad died, and Lou decided to retire. They did good service last time Lukos started causing trouble.”

  “Did they – had they been there? To the ice cave?” said Simon, shivering.

  “No – no one can get there without all four bits of amber. But they’d seen him, talked with him. Fought with his servants. The place where he’s imprisoned – it shifts. When it connects to a world … Well, sometimes he manages to make contact with people there, persuade them to work for the dark. Your dad helped stop a terrible war Lukos was waging – oh, must have been twenty years ago now.”

  He put his hand out, rubbing his thumb down the engravings on the sword between them. “I helped in that one,” he said. “Me, your dad, the Druid. We stopped his little game. But Lukos is always a threat, even imprisoned.”

  “And he – put a spell on me?” said Simon.

  Albert shook his head. “Not Lukos – he can’t do magic across the barrier. Ravenglass will have put it on you when you got here.”

  “But that means before – in the forest …”

  “Yes,” said Albert gently. “It means Lukos managed to trick you at first without any enchantment.” He put his hand out and squeezed Simon’s shoulder. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. He’s very powerful and very clever. He’s a master at holding out to people what they want most in the world.”

  Simon swallowed, and brushed the back of his hand across his eyes. He took the hilt of the sword, letting his other hand run down the length of the beautiful engraved blade. So it was true – his dad was really dead, and this was all he had left of him.

  “You have us,” said Albert, as if reading his mind. “You have all his friends – the forest folk, the Druid, me. And your mum. I was wondering – maybe we should get you back to her, eh? What do you say?”

  Simon looked up, and nodded. But then he frowned and sat up straighter. “Albert!” he said urgently. “The amber! Cat gave Ravenglass her amber. We’ll have to get it back!”

  But at that precise moment, the door to the sitting room banged open and Cat tumbled in, followed by Ollie and a rather silvery old lady with a cane.

  “Albert!” Cat said as she saw him. “How did you get here?” Then she turned to Simon and saw his expression. She walked over to the bed and held out her arms, and they hugged each other tightly.

  After a few minute
s, Albert put his hand on her shoulder and patted it sympathetically, and she looked up, her face tear-stained but determined.

  “I’ve released Great-Aunt Irene,” she said, gesturing at the silvery old lady. “And we’ve talked to the queen. We’ve come up with a plan for getting back the amber!”

  Chapter Twenty

  Simon was sweating, and Lord Ravenglass was in his shirtsleeves. Behind his transparent barrier, the gaunt man with silver chains was urging them both on and clapping.

  “Parry!” gasped Lord Ravenglass. “Parry … and left … and right … and now! Under the guard – good!” He put up his sword and Simon did the same, both of them breathing heavily.

  “Well done!” said Lord Ravenglass when he had got his breath back. “Astonishing progress for only one morning, Simon. You’re a natural!”

  Simon nodded, shortly. He was doing his best to appear pleased, and eager, and in all respects still convinced that the man in the ice cave was his father, but he was having to grit his teeth not to let his anger show. In some ways it helped that they were fighting – Simon’s resentment and fury at being tricked could be safely expressed through his savage assaults on Lord Ravenglass in the name of practice.

  “Could we try that one again?” he said. “I’m not sure I got it.” He twirled the sword and jabbed, practising the manoeuvre. His muscles were aching and he could barely see straight, but he knew he had to keep Ravenglass occupied down here for as long as possible.

  “What do you think, Gwyn?” called Lord Ravenglass to the man in the ice, who was standing by the barrier and watching Simon intently. “Enthusiastic, your boy, eh?”

  “Very … enthusiastic,” said the man, his blue eyes thoughtful. He beckoned Simon towards him. “You’ve got a gift. It’s in the blood, you know. You’re descended from the man that sword was forged for … Bruni the one-eyed.” As he said the name, his mouth twisted strangely, as if it pained him.