by Emily Rodda
The angry humming stopped. The terrible shaking of the ground stilled. Patrick waited, exhausted and trembling. The crowd watched. There was a second’s complete silence. Then the blacksmith raised his hammer again. Brought it down.
And the familiar sweet, rich sound of the Chestnut Tree Village clock sounded in the air. Once, twice – and then people began to cheer, and Patrick was tumbling shakily to the ground, and Claire was crying and Danny was asking questions, and the clock went on chiming sweetly, calmly, all the way to twelve.
On the other side of the Barrier, Max, Boopie and Estelle stood huddled on the hillside with Ruby and Eleanor Doon. They clung together, holding each other up on the shaking, rumbling, ground. Around them the Barrier-combers who had chosen to wait sat silently, watching. They could hardly see the Barrier now. The sky was black. The raging wind beat in their faces.
Max looked at his watch. “It’s time,” he said quietly. “Past time. Looks like he didn’t make it.”
Estelle covered her face with her hands.
“No!” said Boopie. “No! I won’t believe it!”
But Ruby said nothing. She had cocked her head, as if listening to something the rest of them couldn’t hear.
“Wait!” rasped Eleanor Doon. She was also concentrating, listening, eyes narrowed. “I think …”
And as she spoke, at that very moment, the wind died and the ground quietened. An enormous stillness descended over the hillside.
“Max,” Boopie whispered fearfully, feeling for Estelle’s hand. “Is this …?”
Then a great shout rose up from the Barrier.
“Oh, Boopie, no! It’s all right! Look! Look!” cried Estelle, pointing up to the sky.
Like curtains pulling back from a window the black clouds were parting overhead and sunlight was streaming through. And at the Barrier, Guards and Agents and Barrier Works Squad members were a cheering, leaping mass of red, black and yellow. The noise they made echoed through the valley and spread up the hill, as the Barrier-combers clambered to their feet and joined in, whooping and dancing. But Boopie, Estelle, Max, Ruby and Eleanor Doon stood still in the middle of the crowd, silently gripping each other’s hands.
“He did it,” whispered Estelle at last. “Patrick did it.”
Max breathed out. A great, shuddering breath. Then he composed his face and raised his eyebrows. “No reason why he shouldn’t, you know,” he said coolly. “He had all the necessary equipment.”
Ruby snorted. “Hah! Don’t pretend you weren’t packing it, egg-head!” she retorted. “You were as scared as they were.”
“Hey, what’s this ‘they’?” protested Boopie. “You were shaking like a leaf, Ruby. I could feel you. Anyhow, I always knew he’d do it. I told you, Estelle, that –”
“Boopie, how can you! You were the one who said …”
They argued on for a while, smiling all over their faces.
At the Community Hospital the woman called Elise pushed open the door of room Number 12, carrying a tray. “Here I am, dear,” she called brightly. “A nice little bit of lunch for you. Now, today we’ll just forget about all our worries, won’t we? And eat up like a good …” Her voice trailed off. Her mouth dropped open.
The high, white bed was empty.
20
Game’s End
Patrick, Claire and Danny walked down the shopping-centre ramp. Every now and then they turned to one another and grinned. The sky was bright, bright blue. It was hot. Claire took off her jacket. It was pink on this side of the Barrier. Not too bad a colour, actually, she thought. Might come in handy when it gets cooler. She looked at the boys walking beside her. They looked appalling! Tattered and filthy. She supposed she did too. No wonder people were staring.
A very upright, elegant little woman was walking up the ramp towards them, looking at them curiously. Claire put her arms around Patrick and Danny. She wasn’t going to care what some stranger thought. After what they’d been through …
The woman stopped, watching calmly as they approached. How rude, Claire thought, and looked pointedly away from her.
But Patrick had noticed the stranger too. And her piercing black eyes made his spine tingle. He’d seen her before. But where?
“Good afternoon, Patrick,” the woman greeted him. “Don’t you know me?”
He gaped at her. “Anna Varga,” he gasped. “But … you’re sick. You’re in hospital.”
She smiled and patted her neatly rolled-up white hair. “Oh, I am quite better now, thanks to you,” she said airily. “So I decided to leave that place without further ado.” She was so small that her eyes were on a level with his, and he thought he saw her wink. “By the side door, you understand. That snooty lass on the desk is really too keen on the rules for my liking.”
Patrick thrust the clock plans into her hand. “I’m sorry, but I broke the bird.” The words came out more abruptly than he meant.
“Ah!” Her brow wrinkled. “Then how …?”
“Patrick used my golf ball to fix the clock instead!” Danny burst out proudly. “It worked just as well.” He paused, and looked up at the small woman doubtfully. “Only it doesn’t look as good,” he admitted.
She nodded gravely at him. “I imagine not,” she said. “Still, looks aren’t everything. And I can have another bird made. Just exactly the same as the first.”
“I thought it was my bird, you know,” said Danny. He sighed. “I thought it was my prize. I found it. After Claire had found it. And then Eleanor Doon found it. And then I got it back. And then Patrick broke it.” He sighed again. “It wasn’t my real prize, but I liked it, the bird,” he said. “It felt nice in my pocket.”
“I imagine it did,” said Anna Varga thoughtfully. She looked at their faces. “You look alike,” she murmured. “Birds of a feather. And you have flocked together in this adventure, haven’t you?”
They nodded, lost in her deep, black gaze.
“I am a lone bird by nature,” the surprising woman added. “But this one time I needed help, and you gave it. I thank you for that, Patrick.” She bowed to him.
Patrick blushed. He felt very uncomfortable.
Anna Varga straightened up, looked at him, and stroked her chin. “What do you suppose caused this upset?” she asked. Her eyes seemed to bore into him.
Patrick shuffled his feet and looked down. “Oh, I’m not quite sure,” he muttered, awkwardly. Well, that’s true in a way, he thought. Max did say we couldn’t know for sure that Estelle going back home actually caused the whole thing. Then he raised his eyes and looked straight at her. “I just know,” he said clearly, “that it will never happen again.”
“Ah,” said Anna Varga. A small smile curved her lips. “Excellent. Well–” she pushed the clock plans into her handbag. “I must see to my clock. The golf ball will be returned to your little brother when the new regulator is made.” She smiled at Danny. “I do hope your true prize comes to you in the end, young man.” She nodded briskly, tucked the handbag under her arm, and trotted on up the ramp.
“She’s a very polite lady, isn’t she?” Danny remarked, looking after her.
“Weird, if you ask me.” Claire shivered.
Patrick shook his head. Odd beings, the clockmakers, Max had said. He’d been right there. He looked at his brother and sister. “Let’s go home,” he said. “I want to show you something on my computer. I’ve got a feeling it’ll work now.”
At the bottom of the ramp Danny pounced on something with a yelp of joy. “My prize!” he yelled. “My prize! It came!” In his hand he held a shiny, stiff, faded black cap, with a silver badge. He put it on. It covered most of his face. “Cool!” he breathed, squinting up at them from under the shiny peak.
Patrick laughed. “Danny, that’s not yours. Someone’s lost that. Put it back!”
Danny’s face fell.
“I don’t think whoever lost it will be over here looking, really, Patrick,” said Claire dreamily. She smiled to herself.
Patrick look
ed again at the cap and suddenly recognised it for what it was. He laughed, and Danny laughed too, with relief.
“It is my prize, isn’t it?” he shouted. “My prize! I got it! And Claire got a coat, didn’t she? And a pretty hair thing, that I found for her. So that’s her prize –” He hesitated. “But Patrick, you haven’t got a prize. You didn’t find anything, did you?”
Claire and Patrick looked at each other. It was better, really, that Danny didn’t understand.
Then Patrick grinned. His prize? He looked at his brother and sister safe beside him, felt the sun on his face, breathed the warm air, glanced around at the familiar tree-lined streets, the slowly strolling Saturday shoppers. He thought of home, and his parents, and lunch, and his computer, even school on Monday. And while Danny watched him in astonishment, he stretched out his arms as if he could hug the whole thing.
“Finders Keepers,” he said.
The Author
Emily Rodda is the author of the outstandingly successful Deltora Quest and Rowan novels and has won the CBCA’s Book of the Year (Younger Readers) Award a record five times. In 1995 she received the Dromkeen Medal for services to Australian children’s literature. Her books are internationally successful, and she is one of Australia’s most popular children’s authors.
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First edition published by Omnibus Books in 1992.
This electronic edition published by Scholastic Australia Pty Limited, 2015.
E-PUB/MOBI eISBN: 978-1-760270-70-4
Text copyright © Emily Rodda, 1992.
Cover photograph copyright © istockphoto.com/AF-Studio; Jani Bryson; bubaone; Faruk Ulay.
Cover design copyright © Omnibus Books, 2009.
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