Casper thought of the ogre Utterly had told him about who had traded in his sight for the river’s silver.
Bristlebeard lowered his voice. ‘A few hours ago, while you were resting, we sent our bravest snow troll, Pucklefist, to the Smoking Chimneys, to try and convince the ogres to call the shatterblast back – winds like that answer to those who conjured them, you see. But whether Pucklefist will have any luck, I don’t know. It’s not easy negotiating with storm ogres, and the Midnights don’t seem afraid to kill magical creatures standing in their way.’
‘How did you win the Battle of the Brutes?’ Casper asked.
‘We came across something extraordinary to use in the fight,’ Bristlebeard whispered. ‘We’ve always kept it a secret, but since the Midnights arrived in Rumblestar I’ve had a feeling – a hunch – that I need to pass our secret on, and Brushwick agrees. A snow troll’s hunch is never wrong, after all.’
Casper leant closer. ‘What was the secret that helped you beat the storm ogres?’
Bristlebeard’s eyes twinkled. ‘Armour, boy. Armour built with magic.’
Bristlebeard reached inside the drawer of his bedside table, then drew out a key and slotted it into a door leading into the tree his hammock hung from. He opened it and pulled out two hooded capes, made from silver fur, which had ice-white patterns that looked a little like tree roots running down their lengths. He held them up. ‘Made from the furs of a silver panther and decorated with –’
‘– frozen lightning!’ Casper cried.
Bristlebeard cocked his head. ‘How do you know about frozen lightning?’
‘The cloud giant who helped us back at the castle was wearing a breastplate made from it,’ Casper explained. ‘He said that no blade could cut through his breastplate and even fire didn’t stand a chance.’
Bristlebeard nodded. ‘Frozen lightning won us a war and now it’s going to help you against the Midnights because by wearing these, you’ll be protected not only from their talons and their beaks but also from the shatterblast they breathe.’ He handed the capes to Casper. ‘One for you and one for Utterly – because you will find her – and when you do I want you both to give those Midnights the wallopsmashing they deserve.’
He glanced at the cupboard in the tree again, looked over his shoulder to check they were alone, then drew out a crossbow and an axe and handed them both to Casper, too.
Casper gulped. Up until this moment the most dangerous thing he’d ever held was a Bunsen burner in chemistry lessons.
‘Don’t tell Brushwick about this just yet,’ Bristlebeard whispered. ‘Armour’s fine but she’s never been keen on handing out weapons to under-agers. I can tell that she’s coming round to the idea of taking up arms again to protect the marvels though – the woman’s got a sword and a dozen knives tucked into her knickers, for crying out loud, and she hasn’t practised mindful breathing for at least a week . . .’
Casper turned the crossbow over in his hands. ‘I really don’t think this is a good idea.’
‘The crossbow may look frightening,’ Bristlebeard replied, ‘but all troll weapons are enchanted so they’re easy to use – even for a newcomer, like you. The bolt here is attached to a rope that unwinds when you fire using this trigger –’ he showed Casper so that he understood ‘– so you’ll never lose it and it’s been dipped in deadly nightshade, like my arrows, so it’ll stun any Midnight upon impact.’
Casper nodded shakily.
‘And the axe – Sir Chopalot, I named him – is the trustiest weapon I’ve ever fought with. It slices anything it comes into contact with into dust. So, don’t you go holding back, boy. Blow the Midnights to smithereens!’
‘Who’s blowing the Midnights to smithereens, darling?’
Bristlebeard whirled round. Brushwick was standing behind him with a bowl of steaming stew so he hastily tucked the weapons beneath the blankets in the hammock and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
‘We will be,’ Bristlebeard replied, ‘if they dare steal any more of our marvels.’
Brushwick nodded. ‘And there I was worrying you had handed out all your prized weapons to young Casper here. The capes are one thing but crossbows and axes are quite another.’
Casper twiddled his fingers, but thankfully Bristlebeard changed the subject before he had to reply. ‘Ah, vegan stew. Your finest.’
Brushwick produced four spoons from her apron pocket. ‘One for Arlo, too,’ she said, and at his name, the little dragon opened an eye.
They ate quickly and quietly, for there were things on their minds and when they had finished the stew, Brushwick cleared the bowls away. ‘I’ll be up in the lookout post all night. With my sword and my knives,’ she added under her breath, ‘in case the Midnights come snooping. So, you and Arlo get some sleep because if you’re going after your friend tomorrow and attempting to put an end to these griffins, you’re going to need your energy for what’s ahead of you – it’s a big old kingdom out there.’
Brushwick rubbed a little more of the sap into Casper’s leg, which, miraculously, now only bore a dark bruise, and while Bristlebeard and the rest of the snow trolls busied themselves with their sacks of snow, Casper and Arlo tried their best to sleep before the journey on.
* * *
In the early hours of the next day, when the forest was still dark and full of snoring trolls, Bristlebeard woke Casper.
‘Best to leave under cover of darkness,’ he whispered. ‘Brushwick hasn’t seen the Midnights but she nipped down earlier to say she’d heard them calling out across the heath beyond the forest. Maybe they’re searching for the griffin I took down? Whatever the reason, it’s your only lead on Utterly so it’s worth following.’ He held up a blank wad of paper then smeared it with a handful of snow. Instantly, words appeared and Bristlebeard’s face lit up.
‘The Unmapped Chronicle,’ he said. ‘The kingdom’s newspaper. But ever since Morg took the place of the last phoenix it’s been hexed so that the words only appear if you’re a trusted Unmapper and you dip the paper in water – though out here in Shiverbark Forest, snow works, too.’ He squinted at the newspaper. ‘Yesterday only the last page of the newspaper showed up for some reason – rather unhelpfully that happened to be the seaball results from the kingdom of Crackledawn – and today it seems we just have the first page.’
‘But important stories usually come first,’ Casper said eagerly, ‘so this could be useful. What does it say?’
The snow troll scanned the first paragraph. ‘Doesn’t look like it’s good news . . . The emergency supply of marvels in the Mixing Tower is running out.’
‘Can’t the Lofty Husks leave the castle and bring a few more back? Surely they know ways to stay one step ahead of the Midnights?’
Bristlebeard read on, then his mouth fell open. ‘They can’t leave the castle, Casper . . .’ He pointed to the article on the front page, written by an Unmapper called Bertie Flitterquill. ‘Look . . .’
‘Can’t leave?’ Casper whispered, taking the newspaper from Bristlebeard.
Then he saw why. Dozens of Midnights were patrolling the castle walls now. No one was able to get out – not Ballooners, Bottlers or Lofty Husks. Everyone was trapped inside. And suddenly it made sense why the Lofty Husks hadn’t sent out another search party for him and Utterly. They couldn’t.
Casper read aloud from the newspaper:
‘This may well be the last chronicle for a while. Not satisfied with disrupting our SkyFly so that paper aeroplanes hurtle out to the wrong destinations and our newspaper only shows a quarter of our news, now Morg’s followers have hexed the castle walls to stop messages from leaving altogether and to prevent word from the magical creatures reaching our mirrors.’
Casper gasped. ‘That would explain why you can’t contact the Lofty Husks!’ he said to Bristlebeard. ‘And why the message for me and Utterly was delivered to the wrong place and the Unmapped Chronicle only shows a fraction of the news!’ The snow troll nodded gravely and Casper read on.
/> ‘It’s only a matter of time before the Midnights shut down this newspaper completely.
‘The Lofty Husks continue to cast every kind of spell to prevent the Midnights breathing shatterblast down the Mixing Tower chimneys, but last night Blustersnap confirmed that Morg has filled these beasts with the darkest magic and it will take a very rare kind of spell to stop them which, so far, they have yet to find. Our rulers will pore over every book in the castle for it and our Bottlers will try to get rid of the shatterblast in the Mixing Tower, but everyone’s thoughts are with the only two children still out in The Beyond –’
Casper’s heart skipped a beat
‘– a mere Bottler-in-training called Utterly Thankless and, according to Utterly’s mother (who received a note from Utterly before the SkyFly was halted), a young boy from the Faraway. Having been forced to abandon a search mission for Utterly and the boy after only narrowly escaping an ambush by the Midnights on the Witch’s Fingers just before the castle walls were hexed, the Lofty Husks have now confirmed that the future of the Unmapped Kingdoms and the Faraway lies in the hands of these two children.
‘Mrs Thankless had this to say to her daughter: “My darling girl, your father and I are so proud of you out there in The Beyond and we know, in our hearts, that if anyone can save Rumblestar now, it is you and your friend. We love you and we miss you and we will scour the kingdom for you at the very first chance we get.”
‘And from all of us back at the castle to Utterly and her friend: wherever you are, you two, keep believing in yourselves and know that every single Unmapper is willing you on.’
Casper stared at the words. He felt almost dizzy at the thought of so many people hoping and trusting in him. And that was just here in the Unmapped Kingdoms. He felt even more overwhelmed when he thought of the consequences back home if he failed . . . Casper looked at the article again and his guilt sharpened. All those people knowing Utterly was innocent and willing her on – and Utterly’s mum believing her daughter could save Rumblestar – when he’d already let her be carried off by Midnights . . .
‘I always thought the Lofty Husks would come to the rescue in the end,’ Casper said softly, ‘but it really is just down to me – and Utterly, if I ever find her – to save the Unmapped Kingdoms and the Faraway.’ Arlo sat up on Casper’s shoulder and straightened his waistcoat. ‘And you, Arlo, of course.’
Bristlebeard put a hand on Casper’s arm. ‘And other than the ogres, it would seem, you have the magical creatures on your side, too.’ He paused. ‘The chronicle says the Unmappers can’t get out of the castle but perhaps there’s a way in. I thought my fight lay here in the forest but maybe – if Brushwick and the others can spare me – I could try to find a way to sneak our marvels past the Midnights while you go on to find Utterly.’
Casper nodded. ‘Rumblestar and the Faraway need all the help they can get.’ He looked at the message from Utterly’s mum again, then he ripped it off and shoved it in his pocket. Then, taking a deep breath, Casper swung himself out of the hammock. He had been expecting the pain in his leg to throb but it had vanished completely and as he rolled up his dungarees he saw that even the bruising was gone!
‘Works wonders, that sap does.’ Bristlebeard handed Casper a rucksack. ‘Nut roast, together with five portions of fruit, a flask of water, capes, crossbow and Sir Chopalot, the finest axe around.’
Casper peered over the edge of the platform. They were so high up in the trees that he couldn’t even see the ground.
Bristlebeard winked. ‘Don’t worry, boy, going down is a great deal quicker and easier than coming up.’
He pointed to a tree beside the one in which the trolls had shovelled the ingredients for the marvels. The trunk wound down in the most extraordinary manner – spirals, loop-the-loops, swerving corners, diagonal steps – and a small door had been carved into it at their level. Bristlebeard led the way over the walkways through the trees towards it, then he pulled the door open.
Casper bit his lip. ‘I was afraid it might be this door you were after.’
‘Best to descend in a sack,’ Bristlebeard said, grabbing one from a hook on the back of the door. ‘Increases speed, which right now we need more than ever.’ And before Casper could say anything in reply the snow troll shuffled into his sack and pushed off into the hollow.
Casper took another sack down and slipped his feet inside it, but Arlo was so impatient to get on after Utterly he kept fluttering in Casper’s face, which eventually made him lose his footing altogether and tumble head first into the woodland flume. Casper shrieked as they careered through the dark, jostling over bumps, spinning in a circle and at one point flipping head over heels in a somersault before – many minutes later – shooting out into a pile of leaves.
Bristlebeard was already dusting himself down. ‘Not the most stylish of descents, Casper, but full marks for attempting the ride head first.’
Casper pulled a leaf out of his ear. ‘It was completely unintentional.’
And though Casper had been nervous on seeing the flume and was now rather shaken after the ride, he hadn’t thought once about a helmet or crash mats or anything like that. He’d just got on and done it (with a little help from Arlo) and knowing that really did make him feel a tiny bit brave.
Bristlebeard pointed east through the forest. ‘Come on – this way.’
Now that they were down on the forest floor again, and beyond the safety of the snow trolls’ hideaway, Casper started at every twig-snapping, leaf-rustling noise. And he could have sworn he could see creatures stalking between the trees: something silver-white first, then something tall and dark with huge, twisting antlers. Were they down amongst the Wild Ones now? Amongst wolves built of snow and deer with enormous antlers . . .
Casper peered through the trees. It was mostly dark still, and the snow fell soundlessly, and though there was no sign of the Midnights, Casper had the distinct feeling that he was being followed. Once or twice he thought he saw a shadow out of place – a part of the darkness in the distance that seemed to be moving in a way that was quite unlike the wolves and the deer – but whenever he nudged Bristlebeard or tugged Arlo’s wing, there was nothing there to see. They walked on for a while more and then it was Bristlebeard who stopped.
‘What can you see?’ Casper whispered.
‘Not see, boy. Hear . . .’
He was silent for a few seconds, then he looked to their right, through the snowy trees. Casper tensed. He could hear twigs snapping, leaves rustling and the faintest patter of footsteps.
‘A snow troll?’
Bristlebeard shook his head, then Arlo squeaked and dived into Casper’s pocket. Because the footsteps were getting louder now and they were accompanied by the raggedy breath of somebody running, or stumbling, through the forest. Casper clutched Bristlebeard’s arm as the snow troll drew out a knife from his coat and held it up.
‘Who’s there?’
The footsteps hurried closer, the breathing became louder and then a very tall, very thin man staggered through the dark towards them. His robes were made from enchanted parchment but they were muddied and ripped and his pointed hat, studded with fallen stars, had a large hole in it. Casper blinked. This was a Lofty Husk, one that he recognised all too well, only his eyes were kinder than they had been back at the castle.
‘The real Frostbite,’ Casper murmured.
Bristlebeard bowed and Casper dipped his head but Frostbite waved his hand.
‘There is no time for formalities now though I thank you for your respect.’ He leant against a tree for support. ‘Two weeks ago a Midnight ambushed me as I was departing the castle in my hot air balloon. He stole my mirror ring and with it, my identity, and though his shatterblast sent me into an endless nightmare from which I could not awake, I did, finally, last night.’ Frostbite coughed, which forced his words into gasps. ‘My hot air balloon must have been adrift in the sky for many, many days but when I awoke to snow, I realised that I was close to Shiverbark Forest
.’ He looked at Bristlebeard. ‘The Midnight has drained almost all of my magic and my strength but I have heard that you snow trolls have healing balms to lift the darkest curses. Perhaps you can help me before it is too late.’
Bristlebeard nodded. ‘We’ll do everything we can.’
Then Frostbite’s gaze fell on Casper. ‘In the lanterns in The Precipice we Lofty Husks can see into the Faraway,’ he said quietly, ‘and you, my child, look very much like a boy from those lands.’ And though his voice was weak, he smiled. ‘In the last meeting I chaired before I left the castle I felt the moonbreeze trying to tell me something – about help against Morg and her Midnights coming from unexpected places.’ He looked Casper up and down. ‘So, am I right in thinking that you, boy, are here to help?’
Casper nodded but he couldn’t help feeling ashamed because surely Frostbite was expecting someone brave and capable. ‘I’m sorry if I’m not what you were hoping for.’
The Lofty Husk slumped down to his knees so that he was level with Casper. ‘You should not be apologising, my boy. You are here, with all your limbs intact, alongside a miniature dragon.’ Arlo saluted Frostbite from Casper’s pocket. ‘You seem to be doing rather well.’
Casper looked down. ‘Except I’ve lost my friend, Utterly. The Midnights took her.’
‘Utterly Thankless? A stormgulper if ever I knew one, but a stormgulper with heart and spirit and a brilliant mind for Bottling.’ Frostbite’s face darkened. ‘I heard the griffins shrieking across the heath last night,’ he wheezed, ‘but they’re not there now.’
Casper felt what little hope he had been clutching at slip through his fingers.
Rumblestar Page 14
