Aunt Vivien’s ghastly Persian rug was one of the things that still looked the same, but there was no sign of Lewis’ computer.
“Where’s the computer, Lindsay?” he asked.
Lindsay pointed to the mirror hanging on the wall. “It’s not what I’d call it, but why quibble.”
“That’s not a computer,” Lewis told her, aghast.
“It has a glass screen and it answers questions,” Lindsay insisted. She sounded a little hurt.
“And you told me what a big help she’d be,” Greg reminded Lewis.
Lindsay pouted. A tiny tear sprang to her eye and she disappeared.
“Now look what you’ve done!” Lewis accused.
“Big deal. She just made us bash our knees in for nothing.”
“Maybe not. She said it answers questions.”
Understanding dawned on Greg’s face. “You mean it’s a magic mirror, like in a fairy tale.”
“It makes sense, I suppose. But how do we start it up?”
“That’s simple,” Greg told him confidently. “Have you never seen Snow White?”
He walked up to the mirror and saw that instead of his reflection, the glass was filled with a swirling mist. He cleared his throat and spoke in a commanding voice. “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”
The twisting clouds rapidly formed an exotic face. It wore a red turban and had a long, aristocratic nose. Its large green eyes gazed out of the glass in a bored fashion and its forked beard twitched as it spoke.
“What sort of a question is that? You boys aren’t much of a beauty contest.”
Greg took an involuntary step backwards then steadied himself. “Forget about the beauty stuff,” he said. “That was just to get your attention.”
The Face yawned. “So?”
Greg paused and thought for a moment. “It probably only answers to rhymes.”
“Why would you think that?” Lewis objected, but Greg waved him to silence.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall, open up and tell us all,” Greg intoned.
The Face gazed back scornfully. “You didn’t say the magic word.”
“Tell us all, please,” Greg said in a long-suffering tone.
The Face looked away and its eyebrows did a fair imitation of a pair of arms being crossed.
“What’s the problem?” Greg demanded. “I said what he wanted.”
“That’s not what he wants,” said Lewis. “Remember he’s kind of like a computer. He wants the password.”
The Face quirked an eyebrow. “Yes, the password,” it agreed superciliously.
“Go ahead and give it to him then,” Greg said.
Lewis cast an embarrassed sidelong glance at his brother. “Could you maybe step outside for a second?”
“Get on with it,” said Greg. “Give him the password.”
Lewis leaned as close to the mirror as he could and whispered, “Lindsay.”
“Lindsay?” Greg repeated in a voice dripping with scorn. “That is tragic!”
“Don’t…” Lewis began, then groped helplessly for the next word. “Just don’t.”
“If you’re quite finished,” the Face piped up.
“Sorry about that,” Lewis told it sheepishly.
“Don’t apologise to me,” the Face said. “I’m your servant, remember.”
“So serve us then,” Greg demanded, placing his fists on his hips.
“Who asked you to stick your nose in?” said the Face. “The little fellow’s the boss. He’s the one who said the magic word.”
Lewis bristled. “What do you mean ‘little’?”
“Forgive me, mountainous one,” the Face said in an off-handed manner. “What is your request?”
“Well, tell us what’s going on.”
The Face grimaced. “I hate to carp, but do you think you could be a shade more specific?”
“Well, yesterday, there were cars, TVs and computers. Today there are monsters, fairies and magic mirrors.”
“And Mum is an ogre,” Greg added.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the Face. “We said a rhyme and everything changed,” Lewis explained.
The Face made a quizzical expression. “I’m not aware of any change, O baffling one.”
“No, that’s because you’re part of it,” said Lewis. “The whole of reality has been altered.”
The Face let out a low whistle. “That’s too heavy for me. You need to consult the Fount of All Knowledge.”
“What is that?” Greg demanded.
The Face contorted in thought. “I don’t know. It just sort of popped into my…” its eyes rolled around searchingly, “head.”
“You mean you’re giving us advice that you don’t understand yourself,” Greg said irritably.
“You have a gift for the obvious,” said the Face. “Why should I need to understand it? I’m not the one with the problem.”
Greg turned assertively on his brother. “Okay, what’s this Fount of All Wisdom?”
Lewis lowered his eyes. “I don’t know.”
Greg chewed his lower lip then stabbed a finger decisively in the air. “The drinking fountain in Kinburn Park!”
“I don’t think it’s that kind of fount.”
“Well, at least I have a suggestion.”
“Such as it is,” the Face put in.
“It’s not like you’ve been a big help, Glasshead,” Greg retorted.
The Face ignored him and addressed Lewis with exaggerated politeness. “If you are done with me, O unfortunate sibling, I shall return to the nothingness from which I came. And with some relief, I might add.”
So saying, the Face dissolved into the swirling mist that covered the mirror’s surface. Greg made an unpleasant gesture at the glass.
“Just a moment,” they heard a voice call from outside the room. “I must fetch my coat first.”
It was Aunt Vivien. There was no mistaking that piercing tone and they could hear her footsteps climbing the stairs towards them.
“We need to hide!” Lewis gasped in sudden panic.
“No time,” Greg said grimly. “Out the window!”
“We’ll break our necks,” Lewis objected.
“Slide over and hang on with your fingers, then let go,” Greg told him. “It’s not that big a drop. Now do it!”
The prospect of confronting a monster version of Aunt Vivien was enough to snap Lewis into action. He swung himself over the window ledge and slipped down till he was only just hanging on, with his legs dangling over the back garden.
He wasn’t inclined to let go, but he was delaying Greg’s escape by hanging on. He relaxed his grip and slid down the wall, the rough brickwork tearing up the front of his jumper. When he hit the ground his legs folded up and he collapsed into a ball. He lay there checking for broken bones until he was sure he wasn’t injured.
He was about to get up when he noticed that he was staring at the toes of a pair of black boots. He followed them up a pair of long legs to where a tall, blonde woman stood over him. She was wearing chainmail and a round helmet with wings on the sides.
“So I find you crawling in the grass like a worm, just as should be expected,” she announced grandly, as though she were performing a scene out of an opera. She seized the hilt of the sword that hung at her side and pulled it from its sheath. “It’s time you were dealt with.”
7. ONE COIN IN THE FOUNTAIN
It was at that moment that Greg dropped from the window and landed squarely on top of the woman. They tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs and chainmail. Greg was the first to crawl dazedly out of the mess.
Lewis grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. “Anything broken?” he demanded.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Good. Let’s get out of here.”
Lewis set off at a run, dragging Greg bemusedly behind him.
“Who is she?” Greg asked.
“A Valkyrie, I think. Never mind that right now.
We have to get away.”
As they rushed out of the gate, he glanced back and saw the warrior woman rise to her feet. Instead of chasing them, she stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out a sharp whistle.
Her summons was answered by the weirdest thing they had yet seen on a day when the weirdness factor was already in the high nineties. It looked like a modern sculpture of a horse made out of scrap metal with two motorcycle wheels instead of legs. It came racing round the corner of the house with a high-pitched whinny and a hiss of pistons. Its eyes glowed red and steam puffed from its flared metal nostrils.
“This doesn’t look good,” Greg observed, lengthening his stride so that Lewis no longer needed to pull him along.
Sprinting down Spottiswood Gardens, they looked back to see the Valkyrie rounding the corner on her metal steed.
Lewis followed Greg’s lead and raced down to Broomfaulds, where they ducked behind a stone tomb graven with images of knights and monsters. Yesterday it had been a bus shelter.
The Valkyrie came roaring past, too caught up in her own rage to notice them crouching there in the shadows. As she disappeared into the distance, the boys slumped against the tomb and gasped in relief.
“Now can you tell me who your girlfriend is?” Greg asked.
“I think she’s a Valkyrie. They were warrior maidens in Norse mythology. They gathered up the souls of dead warriors and took them to Valhalla where they’d feast for all eternity.”
“The feasting part sounds all right, but what does she want with us? We’re not dead yet.”
“I don’t know,” Lewis answered with a weary shake of the head. “This whole thing just gets worse and worse.”
Greg sensed the despair in his brother’s voice. He put his hand on Lewis’ shoulder. “The fountain in Kinburn Park,” he said confidently. “We’ll find the answer there. Trust me.”
Lewis was unconvinced, but too exhausted to argue. Besides, he had nothing better to offer.
Greg helped him to his feet and they shuffled off in the direction of the park, casting wary glances about them the whole way. At one point they saw a Valkyrie speeding down Canongate Road while they skulked behind a bush of spiky thorns with huge orange berries.
“She doesn’t give up easily, does she?” Greg said.
They entered the park and passed some fairies who were dancing on the grass. Lewis checked that Lindsay wasn’t amongst them. He hoped she wasn’t still cross with them.
Greg led the way with groundless confidence, having convinced himself that he was in control of the situation. The bowling lawn and putting green had been submerged by a lake, where large and unsettling shapes moved vaguely beneath the water. They gave this a wide berth and warily circled an adventure playground filled with spikes, blades and iron balls. A few goblins were capering there without coming to any apparent harm.
The humble drinking fountain had been transformed into a circular pool, in the middle of which was a marble monument in the shape of a sea god, half man, half fish. He grasped a trident in his right hand and a stream of water gushed from his open mouth.
“Okay, so it’s a fountain,” said Lewis. “But how does that help us?”
“You know, you could be a bit more supportive,” Greg told him. “I’m starting to get into this stuff.”
“Suppose this is the Fount of All Knowledge then,” Lewis conceded. “What do you do with it?”
“It’s a fountain, you idiot. You toss a coin in.”
Greg reached into his pocket and pulled out a pound coin. He stared at it for a second then put it back and fished out a ten pence piece instead.
“If it doesn’t work, there’s no sense throwing money away,” he explained.
He flipped the coin into the air and watched it plop into the fountain. He stared fixedly at the spot where it had sunk. In spite of his doubts, Lewis found himself also watching expectantly.
For a while nothing happened. Then, just as Lewis was about to suggest they leave, the waters around the fountain began to bubble.
They took a startled step backwards, but before they could get safely out of the way, a long, serpent shape, as thick as a tree trunk, shot straight up out of the bubbles. Three metres above their heads, a lizard-like face fixed them with a hostile gaze.
“You’re a long way from Loch Ness,” Greg gasped.
The creature spat something out then flopped back into the fountain, dashing water all over them and soaking their clothes. The coin came twirling out of the air and dropped at Greg’s feet with a tiny clink.
“Well, so much for that idea,” he said, pushing his wet hair back out of his face and retrieving the coin.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a cheapskate…” Lewis began.
He was silenced by the look on his brother’s face. Greg was staring in the direction of the playground and when he turned to look, Lewis saw the reason for his alarm.
The Valkyrie had burst out of the trees and was bearing down on them. She pulled back on the reins and halted her snorting mount only a few metres away from them. She glowered, the way you look at a bug just before you step on it.
“I don’t know who you are,” Greg told her bullishly, “but you’re getting to be a real pain in the neck.”
Lewis made a feeble effort to pull him back as the woman raised an imperious eyebrow. “I am Shona, chief of the Valkyries,” she declared grandly.
“Shona?” Lewis repeated. He peered at her. “Hang on, I recognise you. You’re Shona Gilhooley, the woman that runs the aerobics class Mum goes to on Tuesday night.”
The Valkyrie drew her sword. “You mock me at your peril, whelp! I know nothing of this aerobics class you speak of.”
“Look, we’re not going any place with you,” said Greg, “feasting or no feasting.”
“Cease your prattling, you witless fool,” said the Valkyrie, pointing the blade directly at him. “You cannot outrun my roadsteed. You will come with me now, either as my prisoners or as trophies.”
“Come with you where?” Lewis asked.
“My master demands your presence,” Shona Gilhooley answered, edging her mount closer. Its eyes narrowed and a thin sliver of steam drifted from its snout.
“Look, if Mr Hawkins sent you,” said Lewis, “tell him we’ll get back to school as soon as we can.”
“Right,” Greg agreed, “you can push off and leave us in peace.”
The Valkyrie laughed a rich, lingering laugh.
“She’s not talking about Mr Hawkins,” Greg surmised.
“Good guess,” Lewis agreed.
“Yonder come my sisters,” Shona announced.
The boys looked around and saw five more Valkyries closing in on them from different directions, all riding roadsteeds.
“You’ve got the wrong guys,” Greg said desperately. “You’re looking for Hansel and Gretel, or the Babes in the Wood, or the Brothers Grimm.”
“Enough!” the Valkyrie snapped. She leaned forward to take a swipe at Greg with her upraised blade, coaxing her mount forward as she did so.
At that precise moment Lindsay materialised in midair right in front of her. The roadsteed pulled up short and Lindsay reached out and yanked the Valkyrie’s helmet down over her eyes.
“Run!” she urged the brothers, swooping along behind them as they took to their heels.
They heard the engine roar of the other Valkyries revving their roadsteeds for the chase. The boys dashed into the trees, only pausing for breath once their pursuers were out of sight.
“Thanks, Lindsay,” Lewis said. “You’re a life saver.”
“Yes, thanks,” Greg mumbled.
“You weren’t very nice to me, Greg,” Lindsay said huffily, “but I still wasn’t about to let those Amazons get their hands on you.”
“Valkyries, actually,” said Lewis, pointing behind them through the trees to where two of the warrior women were riding in their direction.
“Look out!” Lindsay squeaked.
Another Valkyrie erupted fr
om the greenery, scattering the three of them as her mount reared up, its eyes ablaze. Lindsay shot straight up in the air while the boys split off to the left, racing through the foliage for all they were worth.
Luckily the transformed park was thickly wooded, making it difficult for the Valkyries to manoeuvre their roadsteeds. The boys zigzagged right and left, crouching low to make themselves less visible.
All at once Lewis realised he had lost sight of Greg again. He groaned, frantically imagining what sort of a scrape his brother was going to get himself into this time. Something about what had happened to Greg at school was nagging at the back of his mind, like an itch he couldn’t reach to scratch.
Before he could give it any more thought, he heard someone hiss at him. Greg was scrunched down in the bushes to his right, waving him over.
He scurried to his brother’s side and squatted down next to him. “What happened to Lindsay?” he asked.
“Like it matters!” Greg snorted.
“She did save us just now,” Lewis reminded him sharply.
Greg could see he was upset and spoke in a conciliatory tone. “I just meant she can always twinkle out of trouble.”
Lewis harrumphed to show he was still irked with him.
“Never mind about that just now,” Greg said. “We need a place to hide and there it is.”
He pointed through the bushes at a long wooden building on the edge of the lake.
“It looks like a boathouse,” said Lewis.
“It’s only a quick dash away,” said Greg. “We can hole up there till things quieten down.”
“It sounds good to me.”
“Right, when I go, you stick with me,” Greg instructed.
He craned his neck for a cautious look around. They could hear the roar of the roadsteeds’ engines, but none of them were visible.
Greg gave his brother a warning nod, then leaped out of the bushes to sprint across the open ground. Lewis followed fast and it took only seconds for them to reach the boathouse. Greg wrenched open the door and bundled Lewis inside.
There was just one boat, but it was about five metres long and its prow was decorated with a dragon’s head carved out of wood.
The Day the World Went Loki Page 5
