The Shadow Thief

by Alexandra Adornetto

  What could possibly be worse, you may be asking. Worse than being trapped in a circle of blue-haired Nereids who want to lull you into a coma? Worse than the stink of fish in your nostrils and nothing but the inky red depths of the Lurid Lagoon beneath you? But you must believe me when I say that worse was to come.

  The children should have guessed that the putrid smell was a warning of imminent peril and did not come from something as common as Mrs Perriclof’s salmon patties, which, though unpalatable, were quite harmless. The smell should have alerted them to the fact that the Nereids were not Nereids at all, but hostile beings from a dark kingdom I would have preferred you never found out about. It does pain me to rob you of your innocence, but it would be irresponsible to let you continue believing the world to be a happy place full of daisy-filled meadows and friendly neighbours who borrow cups of sugar. It is much better for you to know that in reality evil does exist, because when you know of something’s existence, you are much better equipped to deal with it. In this instance, the danger came in the form of the puffy-cheeked, fuzzy-haired matron whose lipstick was bleeding into the corners of her mouth. Her name was Griswalda and she was the queen of the Malevolent Mermaids.

  Malevolent Mermaids are the most threatening of lagoon species. This is largely because they are what is commonly known as Form Fiddlers. This means they can change their appearance from vulture to unicorn to something as enchanting as a Nereid in a matter of seconds. But when a Malevolent Mermaid gets angry, the rage boils inside her like larva in a volcano. It spreads and infects every inch of her until she is quite unable to prevent her true form from appearing. In this mood, a Malevolent Mermaid cannot maintain the illusional form she has taken on to lure unsuspecting sailors or adventurous children on a rescue mission into her clutches, and it melts away to reveal her true identity. Right now, their prey had eluded them, escaping from under their very noses and the Malevolent Mermaids were livid!

  The first thing to alter was their skin—from the ivory of a buttered crumpet to the angry steel-grey of a thundercloud. Then their hair changed. The swishing blue locks fell away into the lagoon, leaving their heads bald and pink before they started sprouting long and slithery bottle-green strips of seaweed that hung about their faces like shreds of oily cloth. Their ears grew large and flapped unattractively and their lips curled into menacing snarls. But the most terrifying thing about the Malevolent Mermaids was their eyes. The laughing, innocent eyes that had so entranced the children, shrank and shrank until they narrowed into two incensed slits, which looked like flashes of lightning in the mermaids’ midnight faces.

  With a howl of rage, Griswalda turned to face her subjects. They sank low on the steaming rocks in what can only be described as a sort of mermaid bow. Raising her webbed hands in the air, Griswalda spoke in a sibilant tongue the children could not begin to understand. All they knew was that by the time she had finished, the sinister serpent women looked both more ravenous and pitiless than they had before. Obviously their external beauty had belied rapacious natures.

  Instinctively, the four children moved closer together. And rightly so because the mermaids were dispersing. But not dispersing in a pleasant way which would have made the children’s hearts leap. Instead, they dispersed in quite an unpleasant way, which made the children’s hearts sink. They sank so low they could almost feel them beating in their toes. One by one, the mermaids slipped into the red lagoon and moved like eels towards the gondola. Only their slitted eyes were visible above the water. There was nothing the children could do but wait in dread.

  When the Malevolent Mermaids reached the boat, their clammy hands extended towards its occupants. Having conducted an extensive study of these vile creatures, I can tell you that not having legs of their own they find it somewhat difficult to fight four-limbed creatures, of whom they are extremely envious. This is why the mermaids did not simply capsize the gondola or drag the children to their watery bedchambers. Instead, they used nasty marine magic.

  Leo was the first to fall into their thrall. The moment he looked into their slitted eyes, he was unable to look away. They wove a spell around him, immobilising his limbs. He could not move a muscle! The most he was able to do was shake his head helplessly from side to side. Leo stared into the mermaids’ slitted eyes as transfixed as a child in front of a cartoon show whilst the creatures slowly pulled him from the gondola and into the lagoon.

  Milli grabbed him by the arm and tried hauling him away, but he felt as heavy as lead. She cried out to Nettle and Ernest for help, but upon receiving no reply knew the worst had happened. Nettle and Ernest were both bent stiff as boards over the boat’s edge, arms entwined with those of the mermaids, faces frozen in expressions of dismay. Milli tried shouting at them; she poked them and even pulled Ernest’s hair in an effort to break the trance. They did not react and, inch by inch, the mermaids were tugging them to their watery graves.

  Milli turned back to Leo in time to see his shoulders disappearing. She stumbled towards him, but before she could reach him tripped over an oar and was instantly seized by a pale, cold hand. Milli had locked eyes with a Malevolent Mermaid!

  It felt as if hundreds of invisible ropes were fastening around her and binding her arms and legs to her sides. She tried to scream but her mouth was as dry as a cracker. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Leo’s chin disappearing into the red water. Griswalda was perched on her rock like a beached whale, lustily hoeing into a juicy trout and cackling as she spat the bones back into the lagoon, vastly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before her.

  The water was up to Milli’s waist now, so she had to act fast. When she tried to think, all she could envision were great pools of silver slime. She shook her head vigorously, trying to clear her thoughts and make room for a new idea. Instantly, the grasp on her arm loosened and the hissing stopped. Now it was the mermaids’ turn to be transfixed. Their eyes opened as wide as it is possible for slits to open and their mouths pursed into little oohs and aahs of wonder. Ignorant as to what had stopped them in their tracks, Milli repeated the movement and felt the baubles in her hair bouncing. Now the mermaids let go of the other children’s hands too. Her vision blurred, Milli could just make out Leo’s shoulders reappearing out of the lagoon.

  Only when all three of her companions lay panting at the bottom of the boat did Milli dare to stop shaking her head. When she did, the mermaids seemed to come to their senses and, with a combined squall, advanced once more towards the gondola. Milli had no choice but to resume shaking. The mermaids stopped dead, their angular faces almost innocent in their surprise. But what was stopping them? Milli was sure she could feel her brain cells clonking together and the jangling of the baubles in her hair was driving her insane. Of course! It was the baubles that had mesmerised the mermaids! If there was anything stronger than their destructive impulses, it was their vanity. Milli knew that capitalising on this was their only hope.

  Without a second thought, she wrenched a handful of the little ornaments from her head, ignoring the clumps of hair that accompanied them. She held the baubles tantalisingly out to Griswalda, who seemed to find this offer more enticing than the prospect of another trout. She wobbled off her rock and made her way to the gondola, escorted by several mermaids who held her by the elbows in order to keep their monarch afloat.

  Griswalda was definitely impressed. She picked out a blue bauble from Milli’s palm, sniffed it cautiously, rattled it and even tested its solidity between her teeth.

  ‘One hundred per cent bauble, I swear,’ Milli promised.

  ‘Do you think she speaks any language other than Mermish?’ asked Nettle. ‘She seems to understand.’ Warily, Milli placed a fuchsia bauble in the shape of a spotted bow into Griswalda’s frizzy hair. The queen plucked a large scale from her tail and used it to admire her reflection. What she saw pleased her.

  ‘They’re all yours,’ Milli bargained, ‘if you will let us pass.’

  If Malevolent Mermaids are renowned for the
ir vanity and greed, in both instances, their queen outdid them all. With a new collection of shiny baubles that both tinkled and reflected the moonlight, Griswalda felt she had cut a good deal. There was only one last thing she wanted and that was the fetching boy with golden hair and muscles like coils. Griswalda’s cheeks turned a plum colour and she batted her eyelashes coyly at Leo.

  Milli cleared her throat and found she had to reiterate the offer. ‘You may have these precious baubles in exchange for our freedom.’

  Griswalda ignored her and made puppy eyes at Leo.

  ‘Perhaps if the baubles were a gift from Leo,’ Milli suggested, pushing him forward.

  This time Griswalda reached out a webbed hand to indicate agreement. Milli passed the baubles to Leo who squirmed and gulped as he hesitantly deposited the little glass objects into the mermaid’s hand. But the queen was not so easily satisfied. She butted her head mischievously against his hand and slurped his fingers with her coarse, cat-like tongue in a display of fondness. If you know anything about mermaids in general, you will recognise this behaviour as fairly typical of creatures who do not have the advantage of a common language and must communicate with strangers through gesture. Griswalda’s behaviour meant only one thing. She wanted a kiss! Feeling anything but seduced by her slippery touch and seaweed breath, Leo backed away. Fortunately, Milli was right behind him and could imagine only too well how Griswalda would respond to rejection. ‘Just get it over with,’ she advised, her previous jealousy evaporating as she watched Leo screw his eyes tightly shut and bend towards Griswalda.

  The kiss wasn’t quite as horrible as Leo had imagined. Griswalda’s cheek was rubbery and he was left with the nauseating taste of salmon patties on his lips, but it was all over relatively quickly. With a sassy smile and wave in Leo’s direction, Griswalda retreated towards the rocky beds. The mermaids dispersed too, and this time in a way that did make the children’s hearts leap.

  In situations such as these when you have survived being pursued by a Carnivorous Vortex, been randomly fired at with ammunition of monkey droppings and nearly been taken to rot at the bottom of the Lurid Lagoon by Malevolent Mermaids, the only thing you feel like doing is laughing in triumph because you have overcome insurmountable obstacles. The children would have laughed (as indeed they felt like doing) had the sight before them, as they drifted past the mermaids’ island of steaming rocks, not been so heart-stopping. They could hardly speak, let alone laugh.

  The Shreckal Caverns rose from the lagoon like a monstrous growth, its outlines blurred by the mist. The bulbous rock formations were much larger in proportion than they had imagined. Black as tar, they seemed to rear out of the red water like wild horses.

  The children rowed closer, drawn to the looming entrance like moths to a flame. Once inside, the moonlight was extinguished like a candle and they were swallowed up by the darkness. Everyone shivered as the gondola glided its way through rocky chambers over ten metres in height. With the help of a lantern to light their way, they moved towards a rock plateau where they decided to moor the boat and continue on foot. The air was damp in the caverns and pools of water dotted the floor. The ground on which the children stood was jagged and bumpy. Stalactites hung from the ceiling; some like stone fangs, some like pendulous limbs, and others like the twisted faces of ancient beasts. A dull dripping echoed around the walls but in the dimness they could not see where it was coming from. The Shreckal Caverns were a subterranean prison for the shadows far more dismal than any dungeons of Hog House.

  ‘How were these formed?’ Nettle marvelled at the life-like shapes formed by the rock.

  ‘Actually, through the movement of water over time,’ Ernest replied knowledgeably. For once in their entire journey Ernest was comfortable in his surroundings.

  ‘How do we figure out the way?’ Leo asked. ‘This place is like a rabbit warren.’

  ‘Easy,’ Milli replied softly. ‘Follow the voices.’

  In their astonishment at what lay around them, the children had not noticed the whisperings like a distant echo, so faint they had to strain to hear it. They recognised it as the same woeful sound they had heard that day in the nursery. Suddenly the voices sounded closer and more urgent.

  The four set off through the winding Shreckal Caverns, guided by the wailing of the shadows. At times they had to walk in single file, so narrow were the passageways. At other junctures, the rock hung so low they were forced to stoop or crawl to keep moving forward. Ernest had just trodden on Milli’s ankles for the fifth time when they saw a luminance at the end of the dank tunnel.

  ‘Look!’ Nettle whispered. ‘We must be nearly there.’

  They weren’t sure exactly where there was or what they were looking for, but they felt confident that sooner or later they would stumble across another piece of the puzzle. That piece appeared sooner rather than later.

  Four anxious faces peered out from behind the shelter of a boulder to discover that they were not alone! They had assumed themselves to be the only ones exploring the Shreckal Caverns until the magicians arrived later. They were grossly mistaken in this assumption. Before them, a platform of smooth stone formed a clearing surrounded by overhanging rocks. Inside one of the rock walls was a deep fissure guarded by a tight circle of the red-robed, wraith-like beings they knew to be the Shadow Keepers. Arms intertwined, they hovered above the ground, forming an impenetrable wall.

  Milli’s heart plummeted as she stared at these spectres whose sole purpose was to guard the shadows. They would not eat, they would not sleep. Could they even be destroyed? She exchanged dispirited glances with the others. These beings could not be bribed with baubles or outsmarted by trickery.

  The children had not expected to encounter so formidable an adversary as the Shadow Keepers and momentarily lost their nerve—until they saw what lay trapped within the fissure. A mass of dark, whispering shapes darted hopelessly about like birds that mistake the glass of a window for freedom.

  ‘The shadows,’ Milli whispered, ‘we’ve found them!’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The Great Guzzle

  A series of steps had been chiselled into the ancient stone near where the children crouched. They wound above the circular clearing and continued deep into the caverns. Milli could not repress a smile. There was always a way out or, in this case, up. She motioned to the others and the party began its steep and awkward climb up the crumbling steps. They stopped when they came to a narrow stone outcrop overhanging the clearing. Milli’s stomach lurched as she peered over the edge. There wasn’t so much as a rusty rail to keep them from falling to their deaths. Wriggling cautiously over, she made room for the others. Had you been ill-fated enough to be on the ground, among the Shadow Keepers, all you would have seen when you looked up, were four pale faces, blurred and almost undetectable in the gloom. And there the children waited, on that bumpy stone outcrop, for the Great Guzzle to begin. I am sorry to say, they did not have to wait very long.

  Into the clearing waltzed the magicians. It appeared that dessert was to be served at the Shreckal Caverns and a procession of Hog House staff carrying covered baskets and platters followed. The buzz of commotion drifted up to meet the children as they crouched, unseen, above the grim festivity. They watched as the staff busily set up trestle tables, piling them high with impossible desserts. There were pastries adorned with turrets of whipped cream, treacle puddings, sticky date scrolls, mango tarts, jelly bean pâté, marshmallow snowmen, beetleshaped chocolates, croissants laced with crunchy toffee, lemon froth soufflés, and dishes of the most delicate marzipan flowers.

  Presently, the chatter died down and Lord Aldor made his entrance. The red light of the lanterns bounced off his chalk white mask as he glided into the clearing. Over the hooded heads of the Shadow Keepers he drifted and came to rest in front of the fissure of eddying shadows. Their cries though faint from captivity, grew more frantic and heart-wrenching upon registering Lord Aldor’s arrival. The magicians cackled and crowded around fo
r a better view. The children, of course, had the best view of all from their vantage point.

  ‘Welcome, friends, esteemed colleagues and fellow conjurors!’ Lord Aldor’s voice reverberated around the caverns. ‘You are about to witness the making of magical history! For centuries we magicians have been downtrodden and overlooked, considered nothing but poor court jesters, entertainers, pesky street performers. Second class citizens! But no longer! The prized town of Drabville was once home to dozens of artists, inventors, scientists and astronomers. All that knowledge and power is right here at my fingertips.’

  Milli gulped. Deep down she had already guessed what Lord Aldor was about to do.

  ‘Tonight I will swallow the shadow of every miserable Drabvillian!’ A wave of manic shrieks and cheers echoed through the caverns. ‘I will absorb every scrap of talent and power that pitiful town has to offer!’

  The magicians were going wild; some perspiring and others salivating with excitement.

  ‘And then, my friends,’ Lord Aldor’s voice dropped to a low hypnotic hum, ‘we shall rob every city from here to the moon of their shadows and there will be plenty to go round. After tonight, nobody shall ever underestimate the might of magicians again. We shall be omnipotent! I welcome you all to the Great Guzzle!’

  A metallic explosion followed as the magicians banged their dessert forks and spoons together, then hurled them into the air to indicate they were of one accord.

  Lord Aldor threw back his head, spread his arms wide and laughed mercilessly. Never in their time at Hog House had he seemed so fearsome to the children. The whimpering of the shadows grew louder as they battled to break free of the force-field generated by the Shadow Keepers.

  The four children stared at one another in utter dismay. Their worst nightmare had been confirmed.

  ‘Lord Aldor’s going to swallow who?’ Ernest croaked.

  ‘The magicians will be omni…what?’ Nettle cried.