Except that Squasher had no head. It fell to the floor with a squelchy thud, a dumb grin on its lips.
Seb grabbed the table edge, his knuckles turning white. Ivy had no idea how he was staying in character.
Mick calmly scooped Squasher’s head off the floor and placed it back on top of his body. There was a wet crackle, and then …
‘OK, OK,’ Squasher groaned, punching a fist on the table. ‘I admit it: those were some good blade skills.’
Ivy couldn’t believe it. Grivens wasn’t like any board game she’d ever heard of – how could losing a body part be part of the rules? Squasher wouldn’t be so cheerful if he was a living, human player …
Like Seb. Ivy knew she had to do something to get them both out of there.
She thought of the bag that Jack-in-the-Green had thrown at her feet. Careful not to disturb the bearskin rug, she sank to her knees and folded back the top. She could sense without touching it that it contained only one uncommon object.
She slid off her gloves and, with her bare fingers, prodded around inside. They grazed what felt like the leather-bound book Jack-in-the-Green had been holding earlier, and she brought it out. She could sense voices emanating from within, though it didn’t feel warm to the touch.
As she flipped it over, she started.
The leather cover was embossed with the symbol she had been staring at barely half an hour before: a smoking hourglass. This time, the smoke was drawn on in wiggly lines.
The graffiti … Perhaps the Dirge did have something to do with it, after all … And if whatever was inside the book had led Jack-in-the-Green to the Jar of Shadows, then the smoking hourglass must be connected to the jar. When Mick the Stretch began speaking again, she hurriedly stuffed the notebook into her satchel.
‘Well then, you lot.’ He cracked his three sets of knuckles. ‘Second round?’
Ivy checked the reflection of the room in the trophy cabinet. Seb was desperately eyeing the bearskin rug.
‘Ripz?’ Mick the Stretch looked suspiciously at Seb. ‘You all right?’
‘Oh, er …’ Seb laughed nervously as the room fell quiet.
Ivy was trembling. Think. Think … She could jump out and shout ‘Surprise!’ but she was fairly certain she – and Seb – would be killed within seconds if she did that. In her panic, she scuffed the back of the bearskin rug with her hand.
The rug swayed.
Ivy jolted. It was uncommon.
‘Don’t you like your toenails?’ Squasher asked Seb. ‘You haven’t eaten any.’
He mumbled something that resembled: ‘I’m not very hungry.’
The table creaked as Jack-in-the-Green leaned forward, resting on his pointy green elbows. ‘Not hungry? I’ve never met a grimp who wasn’t hungry.’
Ivy knew by the tone of his voice that she’d run out of time.
She had one idea left, but it was completely crazy. Taking a deep breath, she swung her arms and leaped up towards the top of the bearskin rug, ripping it down off its hooks.
The bear’s head roared with glee as its hide fell through the air and stopped, hovering just off the ground. Ivy grabbed Seb’s rucksack off the floor and sprang on top, trying to recall the stance people assumed when they were riding uncommon rugs.
Seb gawped. ‘Ivy?’ His voice was shrill.
The faces of the three dead players showed first surprise and then anger. Jack-in-the-Green’s long arms twitched …
But before any of them could move there was a sound like a cork popping, and a frayed hessian sack appeared in the middle of the floor. Shaggy dark hair and a brown face poked through the opening.
‘Valian?’ Seb exclaimed, his voice climbing higher still.
In the space of a second Valian seemed to take in the scowling faces of Mick the Stretch and Squasher, Seb’s terrified expression and Jack-in-the-Green’s glowing yellow eyes. Everyone was still for a moment.
And then all hell broke loose.
‘Kill them!’ Jack-in-the-Green’s wings burst from his suit as he rose into the air, aiming straight for Ivy.
With a growl, Mick the Stretch climbed onto the Grivens table. Launching himself out of the Great Uncommon Bag, Valian rolled aside just in time to dodge Mick as he thumped down on the floor, attempting to pulverize anything that moved.
Squasher started towards Seb. ‘Ivy,’ Seb shouted, ‘do something!’
Ivy took hold of the fur that had once covered the bear’s shoulders and tugged it hard, steering the rug towards the ceiling. ‘Get on!’
With a massive leap, Seb caught hold of the edge and clambered aboard, narrowly avoiding a double blow from Squasher’s slimy arms. Valian skidded under the Grivens table, escaping Mick the Stretch. Ivy saw him fishing around in his inside pocket. She caught a glimpse of three gunmetal ball bearings in his hand before he tossed them into the air …
And then everything was floating. Ivy’s stomach shot into her mouth as she was lifted up towards the ceiling. She was weightless, like an astronaut in space. She clutched the bearskin, trying to pull herself down, but the rug was wobbling all over the place.
Seb splayed his fingers through the bear’s fur, trying to hang on. ‘What’s happening?’ His hair was standing on end.
A few metres away, the game table rose into the air, along with a confetti of Grivens pieces.
‘The ball bearings are uncommon, from a Newton’s cradle!’ Valian shouted, his arms flailing as he swam out from underneath it. ‘They suspend gravity.’ With an effort, he managed to work his way towards them, pulling himself onto Seb’s back.
Mick the Stretch and Squasher bellowed furiously as they hovered up to where Jack-in-the-Green was floundering against the ceiling. ‘You cannot escape me!’ he snarled. Two of his arms darted towards Ivy like long green spears.
Seb kicked one of them away; Ivy ducked to avoid the other.
‘We need an exit!’ she cried. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She urged the rug towards the wall it had once been covering, but it moved incredibly slowly, as if travelling through molasses.
Seb slipped his uncommon drumsticks out of his sleeves and beat them as hard as he could in the direction of the wall. With an ear-splitting crash, the wood panelling smashed and a hole the size of a small car opened onto the carousel. The silver figures stopped dancing and gaped as the bearskin found a turn of speed and zoomed through the gap. Ivy pulled hard on the bear’s shoulders so that they swooped up out of the reach of any silver arms and accelerated high over the Dead End.
Angry roars sounded behind them. An orb of green light shot past Ivy’s head and landed with a crackle in the stubby branches of a withered black tree below.
‘What was that?!’ Seb cried, throwing his hands protectively towards his hair.
Ivy heard the thud of wings and looked over her shoulder. Jack-in-the-Green was in hot pursuit, his yellow eyes pointing in their direction.
Valian fumbled with the Great Uncommon Bag, muttering something into it. ‘Ivy, do you think you can fly us into the bag on the back of this thing?’
‘Anytime now would be good!’ Seb shouted as he was narrowly missed by another orb.
Ivy tugged the bear’s fur with one hand and they banked left, out of the way. ‘I can try.’
‘OK, here goes.’ Valian hurled the bag out in front of them and it billowed open like an old wind sock.
Ivy aimed the bear’s head for the dark hole. ‘Everybody get down and hope this works!’
The bear gave a roar of surprise as they all whooshed into darkness. Ivy gripped its fur tightly, trying to keep it straight, despite the fact that the Great Uncommon Bag was really in control. She felt the bearskin relax between her fingers, as if it was glad to escape from Jack-in-the-Green. Cool relief flowed through her limbs too – for a moment back there she’d thought they weren’t going to make it.
The bag tunnel was unexpectedly short. Ivy, Seb and Valian emerged into a small dusty room that was flooded with light. The rug slipped out from
beneath them and landed in a heap against one wall; the bear’s tongue lolled from its jaws as it panted.
Climbing to her feet, Ivy looked around.
The Cabbage Moon.
She and Seb had stayed in the inn – in the very same bedroom, in fact – on their last visit, only it was subtly different now. The view through the window was framed by the dark edge of a thatched roof, and over the empty fireplace the once-plain uncommon wallpaper – which could fold itself into ornaments and furnishings – was patterned with warm sunflowers. Ivy’s duffel coat hung over the wardrobe door in the corner and her suitcase was on a chair beside the bunk beds.
Seb got to his feet and raised an arm, grimacing. ‘Yuck! Get it off. Get it off,’ he cried, wiping his tongue with his sleeve. ‘I can’t believe I had to eat a toenail to avoid being killed. Being an uncommoner sucks.’
Ivy frowned. ‘Are you OK?’
There was a dark ring of sweat around the top of Seb’s T-shirt, and his hands were shaking. ‘What do you think?’
Behind her, Valian, still short of breath, got to his feet. ‘Why were you two playing Grivens?’ He looked from one to the other disbelievingly. ‘It’s a miracle we weren’t all killed.’
Ivy averted her eyes, feeling like she’d let everyone down. She should have come up with a way for her and Seb to escape sooner.
‘Seriously,’ Valian continued, stripping off his leather jacket and throwing it over the end of the bunk. ‘Explain.’
Seb had an unhinged look, as if he was reliving what had just happened. ‘What was that game? Do you know anything about it? Do you play it?’
‘Me?’ Valian raised his eyebrows. ‘Absolutely no way! Even when the game was legal, the only living uncommoners who played it were professionals … and crazy. Grivens is infamous for causing the deaths of hundreds of competitors over the years. That’s why they banned it in the UK. It’s still legal in America and a few other countries in Europe.’
Ivy thought back to Squasher’s grisly severed head. ‘The chopping board was uncommon. I felt it.’
Valian nodded. ‘That’s how the game works. When a Grivens piece is pushed into the red square, the board imbues it with a unique power – it can turn into a weapon or a shield. The four opponents must stay within the chalk circle to play.’
‘Yeah, but I wasn’t in that circle all the time,’ Seb interrupted. ‘That’s why it was so freaky! When they spun the chopping board, the room changed; it’s like we went somewhere new.’
Ivy blinked, the scene returning to her. ‘You did go somewhere new – at least, that’s what it looked like. I couldn’t see you for a while, and then it was as if a portal had opened up in the middle of the room and you were … somewhere else.’
‘It happened instantly, for me. We were on a helipad, really high up.’ Seb looked at Valian. ‘How is that even possible?’
‘It’s all part of the game,’ he explained. ‘When the chopping board spins, everything within the chalk circle gets taken to somewhere in the Krigvelt and the game continues there. There’s normally a short interval before those on the outside can see what’s going on.’
‘The Krigvelt?’ Ivy repeated. ‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a collection of combat arenas located in various places around the world,’ Valian said. ‘Every time the chopping board is spun, players get transported to a different battleground. If you die fighting in the Krigvelt, you die when you return to the original location too.’
‘And people actually watch this?’ Seb asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
‘I told you – it’s illegal in most countries now,’ Valian said, ‘but hundreds of years ago, Grivens was a really popular sport. There’s still a huge stadium in the West End of Lundinor.’
Ivy considered the silver figures that had tried to attack her and Seb on the carousel. ‘That’s why those dead guys didn’t want an audience. They didn’t want to be found out.’
Valian scoffed. ‘If those dead guys are associates of Selena’s henchman, they’re probably some of the most wanted criminals in Lundinor. That’s why there was an uncommon chandelier on the ceiling – it releases masquerade vapour, a gas that disguises dark deeds.’
‘Ivy and I discovered who Selena’s henchman is,’ Seb remarked. ‘An assassin named Jack-in-the-Green.’
Valian froze. ‘Jack-in-the-Green?’
‘You’ve heard of him?’ Ivy asked, perching on the bottom bunk.
‘Everyone’s heard of him – I just didn’t know that’s what he looked like.’ Valian sank down and leaned against the wall. ‘Gobbles like him can change their appearance, and I don’t mean in a grimp-eating-toenails way.’ He smiled apologetically at Seb. ‘Gobbles can transform into anything – a tree, a brick wall, a glass of water. I heard that Jack-in-the-Green once disguised himself as a chair and waited for weeks until his victim finally sat on him; then he slit his throat.’
‘Well, one thing’s for sure,’ Seb said. ‘With a professional assassin at her disposal, Selena is even more powerful than before.’
Ivy’s spirits sank, but she clenched her fists. ‘Jack-in-the-Green said that he hadn’t found the jar yet; he needs it by May Day. Selena and the Dirge must be planning to use it then.’
Valian’s eyes flashed with panic. ‘That’s the day after tomorrow! I didn’t find out anything useful at the Scouts’ Union. Have you guys discovered anything else?’
‘Well, I did get a glimpse of that piece of paper Jack-in-the-Green showed at the Grivens table – the one with the measurements for the jar,’ Seb said. ‘It’s almost as tall as Ivy – it’s going to be difficult to hide it.’
Ivy bit her lip. ‘That black door on the carousel can’t be the one Granma remembers, but at least we didn’t go through all that for nothing.’ She opened her satchel and retrieved the leather-bound book she’d taken from Jack-in-the-Green’s bag. ‘Jack-in-the-Green said he’d been using a formula inside this to hunt for the jar. It’s got a smoking hourglass on the cover – just like the one Granma described and the one on the Great Cavern Memorial.’
‘I don’t recognize the symbol,’ Valian admitted.
‘Nor does anyone else,’ Ivy said, running her fingers across the cover. ‘Do you think it’s connected to the Dirge? Jack-in-the-Green’s working for Selena. Seb’s right – they might be behind the graffiti that killed those underguards.’
Valian’s nostrils flared. ‘I can’t think of anyone else evil enough to commit a murder at a memorial.’
Ivy examined the notebook carefully. Inside, the pages were blank except for the top left-hand corner of each sheet, where the letters AS had been written in black ink. ‘The leather feels old but there’s nothing inside except some initials. And something about it is uncommon, I’m just not sure what.’
‘There’s obviously more to the notebook than meets the eye,’ Seb said, pulling his hoodie out of his rucksack and putting it on. ‘We need to learn what the smoking-hourglass symbol means. If Jack-in-the-Green has been using the notebook to hunt down the Jar of Shadows, we might be able to use it too. It’s our only lead.’
Ivy shoved the notebook into her satchel and laid Scratch on top. ‘Shout an alarm if anyone goes rummaging through,’ she instructed.
A knock sounded at the door. ‘Housekeeping!’ announced a silvery voice.
A girl with a sleek black bob and wide hazel eyes glided in, a basket of linen tucked under one arm. She wore a tattered patchwork waistcoat and a pale pink tutu over a striped leotard, with vintage roller skates on her feet. Ivy had seen her working at the Cabbage Moon before. She had thick metallic purple eyeliner drawn across her eyelids, and freckles scattered over her golden skin.
‘Oh …’ The girl blushed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in here.’ She frowned as she looked back along the corridor. ‘Wait. How did you get in?’
Ivy tensed, realizing that the Great Uncommon Bag was lying open on the floor.
‘We only got here a moment ago,’ Seb sa
id quickly, kicking the bag under the bottom bunk. ‘Maybe you were … facing the other way?’
The girl tilted her head. ‘I’ve seen you around here before, haven’t I? Last season.’ Her gaze moved from Seb’s jeans to his baggy hoodie, sussing him out in seconds. ‘Not in your Hobsmatch yet, then. Everyone’s gone crazy for medieval this season; I don’t know why – that stuff’s so frilly.’
‘Er …’ Seb rubbed the back of his head. ‘Yeah?’
The girl glimpsed the Ripz logo on his hoodie. ‘No. Way. You like The Ripz? I don’t know anyone who’s into common bands! Have you listened to their new album?’
Seb’s cheeks went pink. ‘Yeah, of course. Track eight – “Misfits Anonymous” – that’s gotta be their best. It’s a total return to their old sound.’
They smiled at each other, bright-eyed. Ivy had never seen Seb look at a girl that way before.
‘My name’s Judy, by the way,’ the girl said. ‘I work for Mr Littlefair during Trade time.’
‘Right, of course. I’m Seb. I’m kinda new.’
Judy studied Ivy and Seb’s faces. ‘Wait …’ She put down her laundry basket. ‘Are you two the Wrench kids? Ivy and Sebastian?’
Ivy tensed. Not this again … ‘Actually our surname is Sparrow, but yeah, we’re them.’
Judy’s ears wiggled as she laughed. It was high pitched and reminded Ivy of Scratch. ‘It’s so great to finally meet you!’ She skated into the room and offered Ivy her hand.
‘Er … nice to meet you too,’ Ivy said, a smile on her face. Judy’s perfume smelled sweet and fresh like watermelon.
‘I have something to thank both of you for,’ Judy told them. ‘My mum’s been made the new featherlight mailmaster. She’s been working in the service for years but never thought she’d reach master. She has you two to thank for unmasking the old one as a member of the Fallen Guild last winter.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘You’ve earned a friend in me; I owe you one.’
The Smoking Hourglass Page 7