Jungledrop
Page 19
There was a tangle of claws and wings as Deepglint finally caught Morg and pulled her back. Then the magic of the phoenix began to blaze in all its glory, the Night Garden transforming before their eyes as every single black plant withered and thousands of glow-in-the-dark flowers and shrubs sprouted up in their place.
‘No!’ Morg shrieked. ‘No!’
The harpy wrestled free from Deepglint and rose, stumblingly, up into the air on wings that were now torn and ragged from her tangle with the sloth and the panther. But it was too late. She couldn’t undo what Fox and Fibber had started. She could only watch as the garden flooded with colour and a ring of blue bushes laden with berries surrounded the Forever Fern.
‘Thunderberry bushes!’ Heckle squawked.
Morg screeched with fury as her plan fell about her in ruins and she realised that her only option now was to flee. Her wings carried her up to the wall, but the harpy knew they would not take her any further. She looked out, desperately, over the rest of the Bonelands.
There came a rumble as the walls surrounding the hall began to crumble, then the bone walls around Shadowfall fell as if everything was bowing to the ancient magic of the phoenix. Morg clattered to the ground, then gathered herself up to flee through the rubble on foot. But she hadn’t anticipated what would be standing in her way.
The animals and Unmappers that had been Morg’s prisoners in the crypt hadn’t hidden inside the avenue of trees as they’d been told to do by Deepglint. They had surrounded the bone walls so that, when they crumbled, the prisoners formed a ring round Shadowfall. They were bruised and weak from being locked up, but they were no longer wispy and faint, as they had been in the crypt. The Forever Fern had restored their magic! And flying above them, albeit rather haphazardly, was Total Shambles who had come back to fight on behalf of Fox and Fibber, after all.
Morg darted towards her former prisoners, hoping that she could barge a way through them. Orang-utans shrieked, gibbons beat their fists on their chests and Unmappers roared. But Morg knew, despite the noise, that they were weak and drained from their time in her cages while she still had the power left to destroy enough of them to forge a path through their midst. She rushed towards them in one last bid to escape.
And that’s when Total Shambles, who hadn’t been locked in a crypt and no longer had an injured leg, dived down.
He slammed into the harpy, battering her with his hooves and pecking at her wings with his beak. Fox had never really understood why the flickertug map had led her to the Constant Whinge if the pucklesmidge syrup had then been used by Fibber on the swiftwing so shortly afterwards. But, as Total Shambles fought Morg now, Fox wondered whether the map had known, all along, the path that needed to be taken to lead them all here.
Doogie had said the flickertug map showed a journey of the heart not the feet, so maybe the twins needed to lose Total Shambles for the wall around Fox’s heart to come down. And perhaps the map had also known that the swiftwing would come back, in the end, to protect the Unmappers who tried to stop Morg fleeing.
Deepglint was bounding over to the fight now and so, with one final burst of strength, Morg wrenched herself free from Total Shambles. She staggered back through the glow-in-the-dark plants, into the far corner of the garden, and though Deepglint was hot on her heels he wasn’t fast enough to stop the harpy throwing herself down the well that stood there.
There was a flap of feathers and a terrible screeching. ‘This is not the end!’ Morg screamed. ‘I will find another way to steal the Unmapped magic! My reign is coming and when it does it will swallow you all in its darkness!’
Fox raced over to the well, but when she peered down into it she saw only black. A pit that seemed to go on and on forever more. There was no trace of the harpy at all.
Heckle fluttered onto Fox’s shoulder. ‘Has – has Morg gone?’
Deepglint placed two heavy paws on the well and, as he breathed over the top, a stone lid formed, crunching into place over the pit.
The Lofty Husk turned to Fox. ‘The phoenix magic you brought here granted me the power to set an unbreakable spell over this well. Never again will Morg be able to find a way back into Jungledrop.’ He raised his chin and looked at Fox not as if she was an insignificant little girl, as Morg had done, but as if she was his equal. ‘Because of the strength of your heart, Fox Petty-Squabble, and the strength of your brother’s, the Unmapped Kingdoms and the Faraway are still standing.’
There were cheers from the animals and the Unmappers ringing Shadowfall, and Total Shambles pulled off a highly risky but very impressive loop-the-loop before crash-landing in a thunderberry bush.
Fox felt herself sway. No one had ever congratulated her for anything back home. She’d never won an award or been praised for doing well. This, Fox thought, this is happiness: knowing that, because you were brave enough to love, other people stuck around to love you back.
‘But – but how did the Forever Fern start growing in my satchel?’ she murmured. ‘And why did the phoenix tear only save Jungledrop when the fern had grown? Why not before? I had it from the moment I set foot in this kingdom!’
Deepglint smiled. ‘I am only now grasping the truth of what must have happened.’ He paused. ‘A plant needs four things to grow: water, air, soil and light. And a magical plant is much the same, with perhaps just a few little tweaks. So, can you think of an instance when water, or something like it, might have fallen onto the satchel?’
Fox shook her head but, from her shoulder, Heckle squawked. ‘Your tears in the bramble tunnel, Fox… Heckle distinctly remembers seeing them fall onto the satchel when you wept for your brother and for all those suffering at the hands of Morg!’
Deepglint nodded. ‘Water then – with a magical twist…’
Fox blinked as she thought back to her quest and for some reason she found herself remembering the ripple of air that had brushed against her skin as the butterflies she’d freed flapped round her. It had felt different from an ordinary breeze or a gust of wind – more magical somehow.
‘I think the air that came from the wingbeats of the butterflies I rescued might have been filled with magic.’ Fox glanced at Deepglint. ‘And some of Cragheart’s soil could have got nudged inside the satchel when I used it as a pillow that night we slept in the cave when we refused to give up on you being a Lofty Husk.’
‘Cragheart’s soil is most definitely magical,’ Deepglint said. ‘For from it springs every Unmapper’s fingerfern.’
Heckle was now hopping from foot to foot. ‘And surely the magical light was the golden mist that rose up from the letters of your name, Deepglint! That light dried Fox’s tunic and the satchel was right beside her at the time!’
Deepglint smiled again as he looked from the parrot to Fox. ‘It would seem the Forever Fern started growing in your satchel when you and your brother started working together to find the fern for others rather than for yourselves. It grew, little by little, as your kindness grew. And it was the strength of heart you showed inside Morg’s plant at Shadowfall that was the key to it bursting out of the satchel and activating the phoenix tear as the pearl to save Jungledrop.’
Again, Fox thought of Doogie Herbalsneeze’s words; the flickertug map really had sensed the journey of her heart. And of her brother’s, too, it seemed. Fox glanced around for Fibber. In all the commotion, she realised she hadn’t seen him since he’d torn a hole in Morg’s wings. Where was he?
Heckle launched herself off her shoulder to find Iggy while Fox raced towards the Forever Fern. Was Fibber still up in its branches or had he fallen and hurt himself? Her pulse thrummed at the thought of what might have happened to him.
‘Up there!’ Heckle squawked from Iggy’s side and she pointed to the top of the Forever Fern with one wing. ‘Heckle can detect some very panicky thoughts about heights!’
Fox watched the uppermost fronds as they rustled to and fro. There was definitely something up there. She snatched a charcoal sketch from the satchel, then scrambled
up the fern, higher and higher, hoping and wishing…
Until there was Fibber. Not a sloth any more – perhaps the phoenix magic had broken that spell, too – but a boy again at last!
Fox threw herself at her brother, wrapping her arms round his neck. And he hugged her back with just the same strength as if, in this hug, the twins knew that they were making up for all the ones they’d missed out on before.
For a while, they sat together, looking out over the Bonelands: at the glow-in-the-dark garden glimmering before them, at the waterfall behind the temple, which was now churning out silver water, at the avenue of trees now bursting with colourful vines and at the swamp in the distance that was now shining turquoise beneath the moonlight.
Then Fox whispered, ‘I’m sorry, Fibber. For everything back home and for everything out here before the bramble tunnel as well. I’ve been a terrible sister.’
Fibber looked down at his hands. ‘And I’ve been a pretty lousy brother.’ He held Fox’s gaze. ‘I will never lie to you again, Fox. I promise.’
Fox smiled through her tears, then she held out the sketch Fibber had drawn of the two of them laughing on the bridge back home. ‘You’re so talented.’
Fibber sighed. ‘Mum and Dad wouldn’t think so.’ He plucked at his feather waistcoat, then said quietly: ‘But if I stay out here in Jungledrop, away from Mum and Dad, I can be myself.’ He looked at Fox. ‘I could be a Doodler here. I could paint every day! I could do what I love at last!’
Fox listened without saying anything. There had been times when she, too, had wondered whether she could stay in Jungledrop if the quest ended well. She was angry with her parents for lying to her and Fibber, and she dreaded going back to a home where conversations were limited to business, smiling was optional and hugging was completely out of the question. But the only reason she had beaten Morg was because she had stood up to her. She had faced the harpy and she had discovered that she was worth something.
‘We never once stood up for ourselves back home,’ Fox said after a while. ‘We just kept trying to be who Mum and Dad wanted us to be. But what if we did stand up for ourselves, Fibber?’ She paused. ‘I’ve learnt that a lot can happen when you speak out. So maybe, if we get home, you should show Mum and Dad your art and let them see how brilliant you are at painting. Tell them you’re going to keep at it because it’s what you love. You might not make billions, but you’ll be happy. And I, for one, will back you all the way.’
‘You’d be with me if I told Mum and Dad?’ Fibber asked.
Fox smiled. ‘Course I would. Because that’s what siblings do: they stand by each other through thick and thin.’
And Fibber grinned. Now that he had a sister, not a rival, by his side, suddenly the thought of going home felt a little less frightening.
Fox imagined being in the room with Fibber as he revealed his artwork to their parents and she felt proud of him for finding something he loved and was good at. But a small part of her was sad that she’d have nothing to show for her time in Jungledrop. Just her word that she’d found a fern that had brought the rains back. And why on earth would her parents believe her when she herself had sneered at Casper Tock when he’d claimed something similar?
As if he could read his sister’s thoughts, Fibber said: ‘You might not be going home with a satchel full of drawings, Fox, but I think you’re leaving with something much more powerful.’ He looked out over Jungledrop. ‘You own a story. And not just any old story. The story of how you battled through the Bonelands and planted the pearl to save Jungledrop and the Faraway. Not because you were some fancy politician flinging words around or an important general in charge of an army or a businesswoman who got to the top by stamping on other people. You saved the world because you’re kind and brave.’
Fox felt a glow spread inside her.
Fibber went on. ‘Being a sloth gave me a lot of time to think. At school, the people who usually get noticed are the ones with the best marks in class, the most goals in sport or the biggest parts in the end-of-term play. There’s a lot of noise and hype around those kind of people. But away from all of that there are ordinary people, doing extraordinary things, purely because they’re kind. They are the real world-shakers, the ones who start revolutions and overturn wrong. And you’re one of them, Fox. Your talent is that you’re kind and that is enough. More than enough. Because the world is nothing without kindness.’
Fox thought about this. During their quest, she had begun to understand the importance of being kind to others, but it turned out that almost harder than this was realising that you needed to be kind to yourself, too. She had been convinced that she was unlovable, but now here was her brother saying that she was worth something. That she, Fox Petty-Squabble, who didn’t think she had a scrap of talent to her name, was a world-shaker.
And, just like that, something deep inside Fox healed. It had taken an adventure across a secret kingdom and almost losing her brother altogether, but Fox had learnt what some grown-ups take a lifetime to understand: that being kind is the greatest talent of all.
The twins climbed down the Forever Fern together and it was obvious from the way Iggy and Heckle were twitching about in front of Deepglint that they, and very probably the Lofty Husk, knew something Fox and Fibber didn’t.
‘Look at the fern,’ Iggy cried as the twins’ feet touched the ground.
Deepglint nodded. ‘Look closely.’
Fox peered at the silver frond in front of her and it was only then that she noticed the patterns that scored the leaves: tiny lines that looped and swirled, just like the loops and swirls she’d seen on the ferns inside Cragheart.
She looked at Deepglint with questioning eyes. ‘Fingerprints. I don’t understand…’
‘As Heckle told you,’ the Lofty Husk said, ‘when an Unmapper is born, a fingerfern sprouts in his or her honour.’
He looked from Fox to Fibber, and Fox felt her heart skitter as she looked at the patterns on the frond in front of her.
Heckle fluttered up onto the leaf. ‘We think the Forever Fern is a fingerfern – a very special one. We think it’s your fingerfern, that it grew in honour of you both.’
Fox held her palm up to the frond in front of her and her eyes widened. The silver loops and swirls did indeed match her own fingerprints! And, from the look on her brother’s face beside her, she could tell that he had seen his prints on the frond before him.
‘Wherever you are in the world,’ Deepglint said, ‘a part of you both will always be here in Jungledrop.’
The twins smiled at the thought.
‘Morg cannot find a way back into Jungledrop directly,’ Deepglint went on. ‘Planting the phoenix tear has meant that she is banished from this kingdom for ever. For now, she is trapped underground, but she is not gone for good, so there is a chance that she will find her way into another Unmapped Kingdom. After all, there are more phoenix tears in the Faraway that will be waiting to bring others like both of you to our kingdoms to help us defeat Morg again, should the time come. Then, perhaps, a new phoenix will rise from Everdark and the world will be rid of the harpy for ever.’
Deepglint drew himself up tall. ‘Now, though, the Faraway and the Unmapped Kingdoms are safe and if the thunderberry bushes have bloomed again across Jungledrop, as they have here, then we will have rain scrolls before long. So let us hasten back to Doodler’s Haven to check that the scrolls are ready to be sent on to your world.’
The Lofty Husk looked at Total Shambles and the swiftwing picked his way over the rubble towards them.
‘The Bonelands are rid of Morg’s curses now,’ Deepglint said to the swiftwing, ‘and I thank you for your part in helping Fox and Fibber on their quest. But the animals and Unmappers are weak still and I must lead them home. Can I trust that you will carry our heroes safely back to Timbernook?’
Total Shambles cocked his head at the twins, then he spread his wings before them as if that evening in the bramble tunnel had never happened. Fox and Fibber rushe
d over to him and, as Fox told the swiftwing how sorry she was for the lies she’d told him, he pressed his head into her chest.
Deepglint glanced at Iggy and Heckle. ‘If there is room on your back for a very small Unmapper and a very talkative parrot, too, then that would, I have no doubt, be greatly appreciated, Total Shambles.’
The swiftwing ruffled his feathers, then swished his tail and, as the twins, Iggy and Heckle climbed up onto the swiftwing’s back, Deepglint dipped his head at them.
‘I will see you at Timbernook,’ he said. ‘It has been an honour to fight by your side.’
Total Shambles wobbled up into the night sky until Deepglint and the other Unmappers were just specks down below. And, though it was night now, the twins could see that Jungledrop was a glow-in-the-dark rainforest brimming with life and colour once again. Trees had regrown, plants had flourished and the kingdom rang with the sound of animals and magical creatures rejoicing in their new-found freedom.
For a while, Fox looked down at the canopy and marvelled at where her adventure had taken her: over rivers and lakes, forests and ravines. But soon she and the others fell asleep, their arms locked round each other’s waists and their bodies nestled in between Total Shambles’ wings, as he flew on beneath the stars.
They knew they had arrived, several hours later, because the swiftwing’s landing was as clumsy as ever and it sent them toppling over Total Shambles’ head into a heap at Goldpaw’s feet. The group stood up by the edge of the lagoon in Doodler’s Haven. Its water glistened in the dawn light and Fox noticed there was a gravestone covered in flowers beneath a candletree. It marked the fall of the Lofty Husk called Spark.
‘You were very much not what I was expecting when you arrived in Jungledrop,’ Goldpaw said to Fox and Fibber with a smile. ‘And yet a message from Deepglint tells me that it is, ultimately, because of you two that the thunderberry bushes have sparked back into life again and Morg has been banished from the kingdom. You achieved what none of us here could and Jungledrop owes you the very greatest debt.’