by Toby Forward
“Follow me. Quietly.”
Mattie couldn’t turn around so he backed up until the passageway grew wider.
Perry turned his head and mouthed, “He stinks.”
Cabbage nodded and extinguished the light from the staff. They continued in silence until the way was wide enough to walk easily, two abreast. As the passage grew higher the light returned, through crevices and gaps, and draughts of air, which relieved some of the stench coming from Mattie.
“We’ll go to the bedroom floor,” he said. “They don’t go there much. It’s too dry, too clean. They like filth.”
Cabbage and Perry looked at each other without comment.
Mattie held a hand out for them to stop and he took his time looking through a gap, waiting and listening.
“It’s clear,” he said.
He pushed against a large stone and the boys were astonished to see it swing silently away, making a door into a room.
“Come on. Don’t close it behind you.”
He sat on a bed which had its own ceiling. If you lay down on it you looked up at fields of golden wheat, a unicorn and a girl. He patted the bed for them to sit next to him. Cabbage hesitated. Perry took a deep breath and joined Mattie, glaring at Cabbage to make him follow. Cabbage made a small spell to clear the air. Perry gave him a grateful smile and the three of them sat in a row.
“I’m so glad to see you,” said Mattie, “but you’re in terrible danger. How did you get here? And how do you know about the tunnels?”
“How does a hangman get a box of tadpoles?” said Perry.
Mattie blinked.
“He’s a roffle,” said Cabbage. “They know lots of secret places, and they all talk like that. Ignore him. Tell us what you’re doing and then we’ll tell our story.”
Mattie began with the meeting with Bee on the hill outside Slowin’s Yard.
“No? Really? You’re Mattie?” Cabbage interrupted him.
“How do you know about me?”
So that led into Cabbage having to tell Mattie about Bee and the inn.
“You mean she’s really burned? Was that because she swallowed the fire?” said Mattie.
“No,” Cabbage banged his hand against his head in frustration. “She was in a sort of explosion of magic.”
Perry raised his hands for silence.
“Let Mattie tell his story,” he said, “without anyone interrupting him, then you tell yours, then I’ll tell mine. Otherwise we’ll never get anywhere.”
Cabbage sat back with his elbows on the bed.
“All right,” he agreed. “But I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat?”
“Only rats,” said Mattie.
“Tell your story,” said Cabbage. “I’ll be quiet.”
And so they each told their stories.
“Where are your friends now?” asked Mattie.
“Miles away,” said Cabbage. “They don’t even know we’re here.”
“And Bee. Is she all right?”
Cabbage shook his head.
“We really need to know about that turret room,” said Perry.
“Who’s in charge here?” asked Cabbage. “And why are they attacking with the beetles?”
Mattie began to squirm and he climbed down from the bed, paced the room, which was large enough for him to put a lot of distance between himself and the others. He went to the door and put his head to it, listening. He looked through the window. He came back, stood in front of them, leaned forward and whispered, “They’re going to kill people. They’re going to kill your friend Flaxfield. They hate him.”
“Why?” said Cabbage. “How?” |
Spendrill watched Frastfil
cross the square in front of the college. He made a little spell to keep the wicket gate locked, just for his amusement. Frastfil rattled the handle, trying to get in. He leaned his shoulder against it. He grinned as though everything was just fine. He muttered a spell to force the gate open. Spendrill smiled and watched him through the porter’s spyhole. Frastfil kicked the door, smiling all the time. He put his hands in his pockets and jingled his loose change. He lifted the knocker and rapped out a summons.
Spendrill spread his huge hands on the counter in the lodge and hummed a little tune to himself. He was enjoying the game. He particularly enjoyed defeating Frastfil’s magical attempts to force the gate.
“Is that all you’ve got?” he muttered. He shook his head.
“What’s going on?”
Melwood stood at the hatch in the gatehouse.
“Good evening, Principal,” he said, giving her a deferential smile.
“Don’t try that innocent act with me,” she said. “Who’s outside.”
“Outside?”
Spendrill cupped a huge hand behind his ear and listened. “Is there someone outside.”
Frastfil heard voices and he slammed the knocker against the door and shouted, “Let me in!”
“I think there is,” said Spendrill. “Now you mention it, I think there is.”
Melwood managed not to smile.
“Then let him in,” she said.
Spendrill looked downcast.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Really sure.”
Melwood turned and walked away quickly before she could burst into laughter and disgrace herself.
“Let him in, Spendrill.”
Frastfil banged louder than ever. Spendrill released the spell and the gate opened, causing Frastfil to fall through. He landed awkwardly and jolted his shoulder.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” said Spendrill. “Let me help you up, old chap. Dear, oh dear. Are you hurt?”
Frastfil staggered to his feet and wriggled out of Spendrill’s grasp.
“I’m fine. I’m absolutely fine.”
He rubbed his shoulder and glared at the porter.
“Why did you lock me out?”
“Were you trying to get in? I’m sorry. Were you, really? Oh dear. Well, the gate does seem to have been locked, but only a simple spell. Any wizard should have been able to spring it open. It’s not always easy to hear, you know?”
Frastfil glared again.
“Are you telling me you didn’t hear me? Are you?”
Spendrill wrapped his hands all the way round his face.
“You know,” he said. “It’s a funny thing. Sometimes noise doesn’t travel properly in the college. Have you noticed that? Still, you’re here now.”
Frastfil thought about asking him again if he had heard him and ignored him. Spendrill opened his fingers and peeped through. Frastfil snorted and walked off.
Cabbage jumped off the bed and grabbed Mattie’s arms. In his excitement he forgot to keep the clean air spell going and a swift waft of Mattie’s stink overpowered him. He stepped back, coughing. Mattie blushed.
“I know,” he said. “I know. I’ve lived in the tunnels and I’ve eaten rats and there’s no reason to wash and keep clean. I’m sorry.”
Cabbage made the spell again.
“It’s all right. We’ll get you out soon. But let me be sure. You say the grey woman is called Slowin?”
“Sometimes, but she doesn’t like that. She says that she’s called Ash now.”
“Right, and the beetle thing is called Bakkmann?”
“That’s right.”
Perry was putting all the events and people together in his mind while the two boys talked.
“This is the most important,” said Cabbage. “You say that she’s got another name. A secret name. A name no one is allowed to know?”
“Flame,” said Mattie. “And it used to belong to someone else, and she stole it.”
Cabbage jumped up and down with pleasure.
“We’ve got it,” he said. “We’ve got it.”
Mattie grabbed him.
“Stop. You’re making noise. You’ll bring them here.”
“What about the slime boy?” said Perry.
“Yes,” said Mattie. “There’s him, and there was a wizard, a man, who came here and
Ash gave him a job and sent him away.”
“Slime boy first,” said Perry.
“He’s not a boy at all,” said Mattie. “He changes shape. His name is…”
The door crashed. Something outside was trying to break in. Mattie crouched down and curled himself into a ball on the floor. Cabbage watched the door strain against the lock and the hinges. The nails creaked. The timber bent. Between blows to the wood the boys could hear clattering and clicking.
“Takkabakks,” whispered Mattie, “they’ll break through.” He crawled away.
Perry ran across and lifted him to his feet.
“Come on,” he said. “Show us the way out.”
Cabbage grabbed Mattie’s other arm and dragged him to the secret door.
“You know the passageways,” he said. “You have to show us.”
Mattie collapsed again.
“It’s too much,” he said. “I can’t do it any more. I’ve had enough.”
Cabbage saw that all of Mattie’s courage and resourcefulness were used up. Spending time with him and Perry had reminded the boy of human contact and friendship, talk and touch.
“We’ll get you out,” he promised. “The roffle way. We’ll take you with us. But hurry. Show us the right direction.”
Mattie gathered his wits and tried to smile. He led them through the secret door and closed it behind him.
“What about the slime boy?” asked Perry. “What if he’s in here?”
“Got to take the chance,” said Cabbage. “Come on.”
Mattie led them back a different way.
“Tell me as soon as you see a roffle way,” said Cabbage. “One that will get us out of here.”
Perry rolled his eyes.
“Does a whippet chase a carpet for a wishbone?” he said.
The light outside had almost gone now so Cabbage had to make the staff glow when they reached the lower levels.
“Here,” said Perry. “There’s a way here.”
They stopped and listened.
Mattie’s face was set hard now. His panic had disappeared.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “About that, up in the room. I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s all right,” said Cabbage. “I was more frightened than you were.”
Mattie gave him a grateful smile.
“They haven’t followed,” he said. “There’s no sound of them in the tunnel. They’re not very bright. They forget quickly. It’s how I’ve survived this long.”
“Well it’s over now. We’re going out,” said Cabbage. “Show us the way, Perry.”
Perry ducked to his left and disappeared. Cabbage stood aside for Mattie to follow. When Mattie couldn’t find the gap to the roffle hole Cabbage took his hand and led him. Cabbage was half in and half out, Mattie stumbled and came to a halt.
“Can’t you see it? I’ve got your hand.”
Mattie tried again. Again his way was blocked.
“I can see it now,” he said. “I just can’t pass through.”
Perry hissed back at them, “What’s going on? Hurry up.”
“We can’t,” said Cabbage. “Mattie’s stuck.”
He stepped back and examined the entrance. He ran his hand round the edge.
“I couldn’t get through the gate, either,” said Mattie. “I tried and the same thing happened.”
Cabbage rapped the staff against the wall. The sides of the roffle hole glowed.
“It’s sealed,” he said. “The whole castle is.”
“Why can you get out, then?”
Cabbage shrugged.
“We got through to Slowin’s Yard,” he said. “Maybe there’s something about us. Or perhaps Slowin or Ash or whatever he calls herself only made a spell to keep the people in who were here already. I don’t know.”
Mattie leaned against the wall.
“Can you make a spell to break it?”
“I’ve tried. Just then. It’s fixed fast.”
“What shall we do?” asked Perry.
“Go,” said Mattie. “You have to. I’ll wait and see if you can come back for me.”
Cabbage banged his fist against the wall.
“No,” said Mattie. “Don’t do anything to attract attention. I need these tunnels to be safe.”
He stood upright.
“Go now. I’m going to find a bath, get clean and tidy and be ready for when you come back for me. Go on.”
“There has to be something,” said Cabbage.
Mattie turned and walked away. |
The stars looked down on them
and they looked down on the castle.
“Have you decided?” asked Cartford. “What we’re going to do.”
Beatrice drew her scarf around her face so only her eyes were visible.
“I have,” she said.
They waited. Flaxfield looked at the stars for help. Dorwin put her hand on Beatrice’s arm. Cartford stood, arms crossed, attentive.
“I have to see Slowin,” said Bee. “I know he’s in there. I can talk to him. He can’t harm me.”
“Of course he can,” said Flaxfield. “I shan’t allow it. If you think you’re going there, even with us to protect you.”
Beatrice put her finger to her lips, pressing the scarf to her face.
“Alone,” she said. “I’m going alone.”
“Out of the question.”
The girl and the wizard confronted each other, glaring, voices raised, stubborn.
“Look,” said Cartford.
Takkabakks streamed out of the gate of the castle. A river of black, swelling and spreading, searching. They ran first one way then another, testing patches of wall, crawling up and dropping back down.
“Something’s roused them,” he said.
“They’re hunting,” said Dorwin.
“What for?”
“For them,” said Cartford.
He pointed to the right hand corner of the castle. Two small figures appeared from an aperture at a level with the top of the gate, Perry and Cabbage. They dropped to the ground, turning over to break their fall, stood, looked around, saw the army of beetles and began to run up the hill.
As one, the beetles turned and raced towards them. As a flock of starlings wheels in flight, swoops and straightens, the beetles surged together.
The boys were fast. The beetles were faster. The boys had a start on the shiny army of takkabakks; the beetles gained ground all the time.
Cabbage raised a staff high above his head and sent a sheet of fire towards them. They clacked and clattered and made swifter ground. When the flames died down the beetles were nearer than ever.
“He’s feeding them,” said Beatrice. “They love fire. They’re made from fire.”
“So are you,” said Flaxfield. “Can you stop them?”
The four of them ran down the hill towards the boys, arms waving, shouting threats and encouragement, urging them on. Cabbage summoned a wave of fire that burst up from the ground between him and the beetles. The rocks melted, the earth became a river of flame. The beetles ran through it, gaining strength and speed.
“No,” said Beatrice. She killed the fire with a sweep of her arm. For a moment, as the ground and stones solidified, the beetles were trapped, their legs caught fast. A river of fire gushed down from the turret, softening the ground, strengthening the takkabakks. The boys had drawn away a little, but not enough.
“They won’t make it,” shouted Dorwin. “And neither will we. There’s nowhere to run to.”
They ran towards the boys as fast as they could without falling. The gap between them and the boys was bigger than the gap between the boys and the takkabakks. The beetles would overwhelm them first. Beatrice was shaking. She had lived with the small beetles for so long, with dread and disgust. Now she saw what the wild magic had achieved. It struck her like a hammer.
“Come on,” shouted Cartford. He grabbed her arm and dragged her onward, toward the boys, toward the battle, toward the beetles. The force of
his urging shocked her and drove her on with him.
“They’re gaining ground,” said Dorwin. “The boys are fast, good runners. They may make it to us in time.”
As she spoke, Perry stumbled and fell. Cabbage stopped to drag him to his feet.”
“Can’t,” said Perry. “I’ve twisted my ankle. You go.”
Cabbage turned and faced the takkabakks, bearing down on them at speed, with vicious clacking and hissing.
“I’m not leaving you again,” he said.
He brandished the staff, not knowing what to do with it, knowing that fire made them stronger.
“Go on!” shouted Perry. “Run.”
Cabbage shook his head. He swept his arm in a circle all around them. Small stars tumbled from his fingertips and lay gleaming on the grass. He swept again, again. Stars tumbled out and heaped up.
The first of the takkabakks ran up to them, its legs flicking the line of stars. As soon as it made contact with them it exploded, showering yellow slime in the air. The takkabakks reared back, regrouped and poured forward. With each leg that touched a star a takkabakk exploded. Nothing stopped them. They had no fear. No sense of self.
“More stars,” said Perry. “More stars.”
The explosions were breaching the wall of stars.
Try as he may, Cabbage couldn’t keep making them. The takkabakks kept coming.
“They can see we’re losing,” said Cabbage. “they won’t stop.”
He looked down and a black cat rubbed against his legs, eyes bright and filled with fear.
He flung his arm out again, but he was almost spent. A few stars trickled out, not enough to fill up the breach in their defences.
“We’re finished,” he said. He stood over Perry, his staff held out, ready to strike at the takkabakks with the last of his strength to defend his friend.
A hand banged him on the back. Flaxfield looked down at him.
It had been enough. The wall of stars had not held but it had won them time.
Cartford’s strong hand seized Perry, hauled him to his feet and helped him stand. Dorwin put her arm around him and stood facing the onslaught. Beatrice looked at Cabbage, only her eyes visible.
“Hello,” she said.
Cabbage tried to smile at her. She drew the scarf aside and let it fall to her shoulders. She turned her face to the advancing beetles, so close now that they could see their thousands of clustered eyes.
