‘They flew on north,’ Frostbite rasped.
‘North?’ Bristlebeard asked. ‘Towards Dapplemere?’
‘That would make sense,’ Casper said slowly. ‘Utterly and I noticed something strange back on the Witch’s Fingers: we never saw the sun. Not once. Even when the rain and clouds had cleared off. Just a hazy kind of light trying to push through down at the horizon.’ He paused. ‘Maybe the Midnights have a roost at this place Dapplemere and maybe the sun isn’t appearing –’ he paused ‘– because of what Utterly said to me: the Midnights have done something terrible to the creatures living there.’
‘The poor sun scamps,’ Bristlebeard said, clenching his fists. ‘If the Midnights have taken Utterly to Dapplemere you shouldn’t waste time on the heath. You need to get there – fast –’
‘– then once the snow trolls have helped me gather my strength –’ Frostbite’s breathing was becoming shallower now ‘– I’ll work on a way to get a message past the Midnights to the other Lofty Husks, then come on after you.’
Bristlebeard shook his head. ‘It’ll be a while before you’re fit to travel, sir. And the kingdom doesn’t have a while. It’s already on the brink of ruin!’
Frostbite held Casper’s hand though his grip was weak and his skin was cold. ‘Then you are our only hope, boy. Follow the path I was on to the edge of the forest.’ He drew in a lungful of air, then coughed and choked it all the way out. ‘You’ll find my balloon,’ he gasped, ‘and you must fly it to Dapplemere without a moment’s delay.’
Casper’s eyes widened and Arlo let out a frightened squeak. ‘I can’t even fly a kite! Don’t I need a licence or at least a lesson first?’
‘Not if you want to put an end to the Midnights,’ Frostbite wheezed, ‘before they put an end to Rumblestar and the Faraway.’
Bristlebeard put an arm out to help Frostbite to his feet. ‘There’s no time for caution.’
‘But . . . is it easy to steer a hot air balloon?’ Casper asked.
‘I wouldn’t say it’s so much about,’ Frostbite coughed again, ‘steering as telling.’ He forced the next words out, wincing through the pain. ‘Just know your mind –’ his voice was just a rasp now ‘– and say it.’
Bristlebeard reached out his other arm to hug Casper. ‘You’ll be grand, boy. And if you’re worried about a thing, don’t you hesitate to reach for Sir Chopalot.’
‘Thank you for being such a good friend,’ Casper said. ‘I hope we meet again.’
Bristlebeard smiled. ‘As do I, Casper. As do I. And if we manage to get through all this, remember that you’re welcome back for a game of Scrabble or a bowl of tofu any time you like.’ He lifted Frostbite’s arm up over his shoulder. ‘Let’s get you up to the warmth now and see about that healing balm.’
Too weak to speak more, Frostbite clasped Casper’s hand, then he and Bristlebeard turned back into the forest and Casper and Arlo were alone once more. They hurried down the path the Lofty Husk had taken and as they drew up to the edge of the forest, the snow petered out and Casper peeped round a tree at the heath beyond.
It was an open expanse of bracken, gorse and heather – and though there was a cloudless sky above, it was lit only by a faint trickle of light down at the horizon. Were there still a few sun scamps free from the clutches of the Midnights working away to create the marvels? Casper hoped so. Because what would all this mean for his parents and everyone else back home? A world plunged into darkness as well as chaos from the winds?
Arlo tugged on his sleeve and pointed through the trees to their right. Tethered to a tree trunk at the very outskirts of the forest was the hot air balloon. Only it wasn’t floating in the air all ready to go, as Casper had hoped it might be. The balloon was a great sagging red shape dotted with stars sprawled across the heather and the basket was turned on its side.
Casper took a very deep breath. Somehow he had to get this hot air balloon up into the sky.
Casper unknotted the rope that tethered the balloon to the tree, then peered into the basket. There was no extremely helpful telephone inside, like there had been in the canoe, and there didn’t seem to be anything obvious that would make a balloon like this fly. There was only a large and finely woven silver net, which Casper supposed might be used to catch marvels, buckled to one side – and a cork-stoppered bottled labelled FUEL. Which was empty.
Casper pushed the basket upright, then he clambered in and turned to Arlo, who was perched on top of the unlit burners. The balloon itself draped down to the ground behind these burners, but watching Arlo there, Casper recalled something Utterly had said when they were in the canoe on the Witch’s Fingers: hot air balloons are powered by dragon fire.
Arlo looked at Casper with eager eyes, as if to ask the boy whether he thought the little dragon was up to the task. Casper thought back to the time Arlo had tried to blow fire on the steps outside the castle (without luck), then again in the canoe at the jailbirds (again, without luck) then once more when the mudgrapple snatched him (yet again, without luck). But, Casper thought, just because someone wasn’t obviously very good at something, didn’t mean they couldn’t surprise you. He hadn’t imagined himself much of an adventurer but he had survived a flock of jailbirds, three dreadful drizzle hags and dozens of Midnights.
Casper nodded at Arlo. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got then.’
The dragon drew in a lungful of air then blew hard. There was a croaky noise, which sounded suspiciously like a burp, then a wisp of smoke. Arlo tried again, huffing and puffing at the burners in front of him until he disappeared in another cloud of smoke. But Casper knew smoke wasn’t enough to power the balloon and when it faded, he saw that Arlo was sitting in a ball with his wings curled over his face.
Casper thought of the Midnights circling the castle and the supply of marvels running low. How long did they have before the marvels ran out completely and the link between Rumblestar and the other kingdoms died? But he spoke kindly to the little dragon because he knew what it felt like to feel small and hopeless.
‘You can do this, Arlo. The kingdom depends on it and I believe in you. And so would Utterly if she was here, too.’
At his words, Arlo picked himself up and tried again. He blew and he blew and he blew until his wings shook and Casper felt sure that he was going to keel over and faint. But he didn’t. He kept blowing until, eventually, a snort of fire burst out of his nostrils – and set the burnings roaring.
‘Well done, Arlo!’ Casper cried, scooping him up and holding him close. ‘What a magnificent dragon you are!’
Arlo gave a shy smile then, exhausted from the ordeal, collapsed in Casper’s palm and went to sleep. Casper looked at the burners. He had expected the flames to carry the balloon up into the sky after a few minutes, especially since he had untethered the basket earlier. But the balloon stayed exactly where it was.
Then Casper spotted a small microphone jutting out from the front of the basket that he had missed before. He narrowed his eyes. Just know your mind and say it, Frostbite had told him. Could that mean simply instructing the hot air balloon where to go?
He gave it a try. ‘Dapplemere, please.’
The microphone crackled, then a woman’s voice – firm and to-the-point – sounded through it. ‘This is your captain, Zip, speaking. Welcome aboard the SkySoar9000.’
Casper blinked in surprise.
‘Please confirm your route preference,’ Zip added. ‘Safe and scenic or fast and blurry?’
Casper thought about being hundreds of metres up in the air in a tiny wicker basket and his legs wobbled. Then he thought of Morg getting ready to steal the kingdom’s magic and Utterly in the clutches of the Midnights. He took a deep breath and summoned up every ounce of courage he could muster. ‘F-fast and blurry.’
No sooner had he finished speaking than the balloon lurched upward, rising so blisteringly fast into the sky that Casper and Arlo clattered to their knees and tears streamed down their cheeks. Casper clung to the side of the basket, his
eyes wide. He was out of control, out of his depth and very probably out of his mind, too. But right now, there was not a lot he could do about it, so he simply held on as the hot air balloon rose beyond the tallest trees in Shiverbark Forest, then soared out across the heath.
The microphone sputtered into life again. ‘We are cruising at –’ there was a pause ‘– an unspeakably high altitude. There are emergency exits on all four sides of your basket – just tip yourself over the edge and you’re away – and in-flight drinks and snacks are available through hatches one and two.’
There was a popping sound and Casper jumped as several numbered levers burst through the walls of the basket.
‘Please listen carefully to the safety briefing,’ Zip added.
Casper’s ears pricked up. This sounded hopeful.
‘In the very likely event of a fire, crash or sudden tilt, please do not reach for hatch three, where the oxygen masks and life jackets are stored. Your chances of survival are minimal and it is extremely cumbersome trying to replace stock. Instead, feel free to cry – there are tissues in hatch four – and try your best not to look down. I hope you enjoy your flight in the SkySoar9000.’
Casper felt a familiar panic rise inside him. He swallowed hard. He needed to be strong – for Arlo (who was currently face down in the corner of the basket), for Utterly and for a whole world at the mercy of Morg. He was too frightened to risk a peek out over the edge of the basket just yet, but through the gaps in the wicker he could see that they were racing across the heath. Zip seemed to tread a very narrow line between being efficient and breaking the speed limit – but they were hastening on towards Utterly and for that, Casper was grateful.
He raised a shaking hand and pulled the lever on hatch one, anything to distract himself from how high up in the air he was. There were a few clanking noises, then the sound of liquid being poured and something being squirted. The hatch opened and out popped a hot chocolate laden with marshmallows and something that looked a little like cream, only wispier, on a wooden tray.
Zip’s voice sounded through the microphone. ‘One extra-large hot chocolate with marshmallows and cloud froth.’ She paused. ‘Because, let’s face facts, life feels a good deal more bearable when you’re armed with chocolate.’
Casper and Arlo helped themselves – it was big enough to share – and, as it turned out, delicious enough to settle their nerves. Casper popped the empty glass back in the hatch, then he ventured a glance over the edge of the basket.
There was a whole kingdom at his feet: rivers reduced to scribbles, a forest no bigger than a matchbox and moor-upon-moor rolling into the distance. On seeing it all, Casper realised that very few people got to look at the world in the way he was now. There were aeroplanes back home, of course, but in them you had to look out through a window. Here, there was nothing separating him from the endless skies. And though he was scared still he could feel something new fizzing through his veins. Awe. This was a kingdom full of unpredictable things, but it was mind-spinningly beautiful, too, even though its magic was fading in parts, and Casper couldn’t help wondering whether his own world, which had seemed so small and glum before, might in fact be a little bigger and more interesting than he had realised. Perhaps he would have to address the amount of time spent hiding in Lost Property baskets, if he ever got home . . .
He reached out a hand and let it trail in the wind. He shifted. The breeze was picking up, rattling between the burners and gusting against the balloon. Casper tried to tell himself that Ballooners would experience high winds all the time up here in the sky. But there was something about this wind – something hot and stinging – that made Casper withdraw his hand and grip the edge of the basket. Arlo scuttled into the rucksack Bristlebeard had given them.
The wind started howling and the air seemed to crackle with heat, even though the sun, or what was left of it, was still all the way down at the horizon. Zip slowed and Casper reached for his cape of frozen lightning. The fur felt cool against his skin – was that the frozen lightning working its magic? Casper wondered – and he buttoned it up around his chin because there was only one kind of wind that blew with the force of fire and came from nowhere. Shatterblast.
Casper held up an arm to shield his face from the heat. The air was blurred like a mirage now and the wind pulsed against Casper’s cheeks and tried to needle inside his body. Casper held on to the basket but the shatterblast blew harder, ramming against the balloon and sending Casper stumbling to his knees. Arlo poked his head out of the rucksack he was hiding in, his wings twitching with fear. Casper tucked him inside the pocket of his cape because if this fire-loaded, terror-filled wind was tearing through the sky around them now, it meant the Midnights must be close.
‘If . . . if we stay low,’ Casper panted to Arlo, ‘we can leave the rest to Zip. She sounds pretty capable. Right?’
Arlo tried to nod, but the shatterblast slammed into the basket with fresh force and the balloon hurtled sideways. Casper screamed. Then Zip corrected their course once again and tried to carry on. But the wind was growing in strength now, and though the cape seemed to protect Casper and Arlo from the worst of the heat and the numbing effects of the wind, still the shatterblast shunted against the basket from every angle.
The microphone buzzed. ‘This is your captain, Zip, speaking. Auto-fly dismantled due to weather conditions. Please fly manually.’
Casper’s stomach turned. ‘Manually?’
The shatterblast tossed the balloon back and forth, sending Casper and Arlo crashing into the sides of the basket. And then another noise rose above the wind.
The bone-juddering shrieks of the Midnights.
Casper couldn’t see the griffins from where he crouched, but their screeches filled the sky and even Zip was beginning to sound flustered now: ‘Can the allocated driver please open hatch five – immediately – for goggles and a flying hat, then tell me how to fly through this wind!’
Casper’s throat tightened. He was too terrified to move. And even if he summoned up the courage to grab the microphone, what on earth would he say? He couldn’t tell Zip how to fly through shatterblast and dodge a flock of Midnights! Casper glanced down at Arlo, and though the dragon was shaking inside the pocket of the cape, he was looking up at Casper hopefully. Somehow the dragon believed in him, and suddenly amid the howling gale and grating shrieks, Bristlebeard’s words rang in Casper’s ears – about friendship and jam and courage and thunder. He thought of Utterly and of his parents back home, then he pulled the lever on hatch five, shoved on the flying hat and goggles and stood up.
Now he saw a cluster of black shapes zipping through the sky, but they were far below the hot air balloon. The griffins were patrolling the moorland, not the skies at all. Of course! Casper thought. The Midnights will be expecting me to follow Utterly on foot across the heath! But here we are sneaking past them in the sky . . .
Then Casper noticed something else. He could see patterns in the sky – small red spirals that seemed to spin through the air and, very often, smash against the sides of the basket. Casper lifted his goggles up and the patterns vanished.
‘Ballooners’ goggles must be magical,’ he gasped, slotting them down over his eyes again and seeing the spirals reappear. ‘They show the pattern of the winds so the Ballooners can navigate the skies without getting into trouble!’
The shatterblast drummed against Casper’s face but he could see a way out of it now – the sky was a maze of spirals and he needed to guide Zip through it – so he gripped the microphone and hissed, ‘Duck left, Zip! Then make a sharp right!’
Zip did as Casper said and the spirals of wind tore by either side of the basket and missed them completely!
Casper eyed a new line of spirals advancing towards them. ‘Now a quick plunge!’ he cried. ‘Followed by a wiggle up. And then dodge, dodge, dodge!’
Thankfully Zip was a lot better at following instructions than Utterly, and though the shatterblast raged and the griffins shrieked, the ba
lloon shimmied and dropped, bounced and spun and, just like that, Casper sailed it right out from under the Midnights’ noses.
‘You’re nearly through the last of the shatterblast!’ Casper cried. ‘One more duck and weave then it looks like you’re out the other side!’
Zip followed Casper’s command and suddenly the air was no longer whirling with red-hot spirals but simply the moan of a wind fading. Casper breathed out as they flew on below a roof of white, puffy clouds.
‘Auto-fly resumed,’ Zip said. And then, after a pause: ‘Please give yourself an almighty pat on the back for navigating so excellently and remember that if you feel like a celebratory sob, tissues are in hatch four.’
Confident that there was no more shatterblast around them, Casper pushed the goggles up onto his forehead and grinned at Arlo, who had crawled out of his pocket and was now hopping up and down in the basket. ‘We’re another step closer to finding Utterly.’
Arlo squeaked with joy, then he fluttered to Casper’s shoulder, where he curled up and purred. They gobbled down Brushwick’s nut roast – because being brave was hungry work – and while Zip flew on and on, further north, they took it in turns to keep watch at the edge of the basket.
After a few hours, the moorland built up into valleys: grass-covered slopes, glittering streams and lakes – huge pools of water that spread out through the valleys like giant footprints – down in the hollows. Some of these lakes were surrounded by woodland, others by rocks, but only one was surrounded by watermills, and it was towards this one that Zip was flying.
‘It is three in the afternoon local time in Dapplemere and, against the odds, you are about to arrive at your destination.’ Zip was silent for a second, then she added, ‘Well, almost at your destination. After the incident with the griffins, I fine-tuned my radar and it is sensing more dark magic nearby now. Dapplemere Lake is usually golden because the hillside caves holding the ingredients for sunlight feed down into it, but today it’s an ordinary blue and the watermills the scamps use to pedal sunlight into marvels aren’t moving at all. So I think we should hang back until we’ve got a plan.’
Rumblestar Page 15
