The Slightly Alarming Tale of the Whispering Wars

by Jaclyn Moriarty

  But this night was the fifth time we’d come. It was always a false alarm. People were starting to complain, and the little kids were cranky and wanted their own beds. A couple of them burst into tears every time the pipes clanked, which was annoying. Daffo cut his bare foot on a broken plate and walked blood everywhere. Avril knocked over a box of files, sending papers flying, and Millicent Cadger bleated and chased the papers, knocking into people. Baker Joe told Mayor Franny to quit crunching on that carrot as it was setting his teeth on edge, the cocoa was being rationed and not enough to go around, and a number of grumpy grown-ups told all the kids to sit still, shut our traps and cut out that infernal clapping.

  So it was not as good as usual.

  Then Lili-Daisy piped up: ‘Should we listen to the wireless? I’ve brought the portable one down.’ People grumbled then said, ‘Oh, all right then. Give it a whirl.’

  She got a lot of static at first, turned the knobs and there was the voice of Prince Jakob!

  We knew it was him on account of him saying, ‘Hello, people of Spindrift, this is Prince Jakob.’

  You could hear he had a cold, his voice had that rusty edge, and he apologised. ‘If it’s too much, switch stations, I won’t be offended,’ he suggested. Everyone in the basement chuckled and said, ‘No, leave it on. Let’s hear what he’s got to say.’

  ‘I thought the least I could do,’ the Prince said, ‘is broadcast over the local airwaves here in Spindrift, while everyone is in the shelters. My mother, the Queen, and I have been advised to stay put until this cold of mine is better, and I feel I must give something back to this kind town. Give you some updates on the war effort, and maybe—oh, excuse me—’ he stopped to cough; you could hear he was trying to muffle it—‘And maybe sing some songs for the children?’

  His voice caught then, this time on nerves rather than on his cold, I thought.

  ‘Oh, leave it out,’ scoffed the butcher. ‘He’s not going to sing. Switch it off, Lili-Daisy.’

  ‘No, no,’ Motoko-the-Chocolatier argued. ‘Let’s listen. I’ve heard the Prince has a very fine voice.’

  He did, too.

  He had a grand voice, even broken and husky with his cold. The kind of voice that makes you smile warmly, like cocoa. And he sang those old-fashioned songs that tell tales of battles with dragons, or ancient Water Sprite romances, so that everyone became still, wanting to hear what happens next. The little children sang along with the chorus, cheering right up, and I noticed Anita smiling in a dreamy sort of way.

  Soon, the younger ones snuggled into their blankets, and one by one fell asleep. The adults continued to sway or tap quietly.

  Hours went by, waiting for the all-clear to sound, and still the Prince sang.

  ‘He needs to be sleeping,’ Anita worried at one point. ‘He’s too ill to be up all night singing for us.’

  ‘But it’s lovely,’ Glim pointed out.

  ‘It’s very lovely,’ Anita agreed, and gave Glim’s shoulder a quick squeeze. ‘His voice is divine.’

  Right about then was when the strange thing happened.

  The Prince cleared his throat and said, ‘Before the next song, I want to send my congratulations to a particular group of children. Yesterday afternoon, my mother, the Queen, received a letter from a team of Spindrift children who wish to offer regular volunteer help with the war effort!’

  There were murmurs of approval from all around. I felt a bit annoyed with this team of children. Showing off by offering to help. We’d tried to help by capturing Whispering children! Nobody had talked about us on the wireless! Not our fault the kids had up and vanished!

  ‘I hope these children will not mind if I read out their names,’ the Prince continued, ‘for I wish to honour them. There are ten children in the team, and they have come together from quite different backgrounds which is especially wondrous.’

  Yes, yes, I thought. Get on with it.

  Then the Prince read the names.

  ‘Four of the children are from the Brathelthwaite Boarding School: Victor, Hamish, Honey Bee and Rosalind. Four are from Spindrift Orphanage: Finlay, Glim, Eli and Taya. And two are new to town: Bronte and Alejandro. Children, if you are listening, the Queen is so grateful! She will direct you to Mayor Franny who, she is sure, will be grateful for your help. Children, I salute you. My mother, the Queen, salutes you. It is this sort of courage and generosity that will win the war for us.’

  At that moment, the all-clear bells sounded, which was lucky as it drowned out the sounds of Lili-Daisy, Mayor Franny and other adults, who were all exclaiming their amazement, hugging us and congratulating us.

  Glim, the twins and I had no idea how to cope with these congratulations, not having the faintest clue what the Prince was on about.

  An offer to the Queen? A team of volunteers?

  Look, I know I’d once had a half-thought about teaming up with the Brathelthwaites to volunteer but, in all honesty, I never meant it. If you’d told me that it would actually happen, well, I’d have told you to go jump in a cartload of rotten crabapple.

  But that’s what happened.

  (Not jump in a cartload of rotten crabapple, you daft git.)

  Tuesday mornings at 7am, we started doing volunteer work.

  We had to, didn’t we? The Prince talked about it on the wireless.

  The very first Tuesday, Bronte and Alejandro—the pair who’d been spies and then Whisperers and who were now from the ‘future’—handed us a letter explaining everything.

  I’ll get to that letter in a moment. First, though, you need to know that the war was heating up, and…

  A Very Important Thing Happened…

  Honey Bee

  Oh yes, it did!

  The K&E Forces decided to use Spindrift as its base of operations! Usually, they’re based way across the oceans in Clybourne, but they came swarming into our town! Officers took over the fanciest hotels on the Beach with the Yellow Sand, and regular soldiers moved into the shabbier inns.

  Each morning, you’d see soldiers cleaning rifles or shooting at targets on the Town Green. Or they’d be wriggling along on their stomachs on the beach. The infantry Marching Band strode around the Town Square at noon each day playing their invigorating music.

  The people of Spindrift were very angry about all this. There was a lot of shouting at Mayor Franny. ‘Are you crazy? How could you allow this? You have made us a prime target in this war! We will be pounded! Bombarded!’

  ‘We would be anyway,’ Mayor Franny shrugged, chewing on a carrot. ‘We’re in a strategic location for both sides. We’ve got shipping repair, docks, access to the Whispering Kingdom by sea. This way, at least we get the protection of the army.’

  In any case, it had not been the Mayor’s decision to let the forces in. The Queen had given permission. She showed no signs of leaving town, by the way. The Prince was still sick with his nasty flu.

  FINLAY

  Yes, that was pretty important. Soldiers everywhere.

  But that’s not what I meant.

  Here, have another go, Honey Bee.

  And then…

  A Very Important Thing happened…

  Honey Bee

  Oh yes, everybody left Spindrift!!

  Or maybe not everybody, but many people. If soldiers streamed in, locals streamed out! In carriages, carts, on horseback, on foot! I mean to say, if the threat of attacks wasn’t enough, children were still disappearing! So Whisperers must still be around, using their super-powered Whispers!

  We were suspicious of anybody with long hair. Or anyone wearing a scarf that might hide long hair. If you got a sudden headache, or an idea popped into your head—I might go to the cinema! or I feel like apple strudel and whipped cream!—you would pounce on the nearest stranger and tear off his or her hat. Long hair curled into a bun beneath the hat? The person would be dragged to the nearest constable!

  The barber’s shop was busy day and night, cutting hair so people wouldn’t be mistaken for Whisperers. I suppo
sed I was better off without my braid, after all!

  Anyway, it was tense. Some people couldn’t stand it. Whole families packed up. Parents bundled children onto trains and sent them to relatives in the countryside, or to other, quieter kingdoms. (One family, not being able to afford the train fare, actually took their little girl to the post office and tried to send her package post!)

  Other than the Orphanage School, all the local schools closed down! Their buildings were requisitioned by the military.

  At Brathelthwaite, more and more parents swooped in—or sent servants swooping—to collect their children. Eventually, only twenty or so of us remained. Some teachers resigned and a couple of the braver ones joined the army. Our halls echoed hollowly!

  FINLAY

  Nah, that’s not what I meant either.

  Not very good at this, are you, Honey Bee?

  Take another shot.

  And then…

  A Very Important Thing happened…

  Honey Bee

  Well…

  Gosh.

  A Top-Secret Military Division moved into Brathelthwaite? That happened!

  Very exciting! Our halls echoed hollowly, as I said, but only for a bit because this Secret Military Division took over the teachers’ wing and held secret meetings in the staffrooms!

  ‘Codebreakers,’ people whispered. Sir Brathelthwaite was terribly proud.

  FINLAY

  Nope.

  One last try.

  And then…

  A Very Important Thing happened…

  Honey Bee

  Look, I let it go when Finlay did that single-line chapter. Remember that one?

  Chapter 35.

  None of us believed a word.

  At the time, I thought he was showing off about how he’s the opposite of me because I talk for too long and take extra chapters, whereas look at him! Just one line of the story taken! He is so generous!

  And who cares that it actually means Honey Bee has to do all the work.

  Yet still I let it go. Maybe it’s just that his hand is too tired to write? I thought, kindly.

  However, now he has gone too far.

  WHAT IMPORTANT THING, FINLAY?!?!

  A THOUSAND IMPORTANT THINGS HAPPENED! A MILLION! A BAJILLION!

  Well, perhaps not quite so many, but a lot.

  And you want me to choose just one!?

  I think what you’re up to is MAKING ME TELL THE WHOLE STORY.

  Well, enough! It is JUST NOT SPORTING.

  I put my foot down!

  WHAT IMPORTANT THING???

  FINLAY

  The Kingdom of Raffia won the Kingdom and Empires Rugby Cup.

  First time in sixty-five years.

  Game almost got cancelled, what with war everywhere, dangerous to travel and whatnot. But officials decided to go ahead, to rally everybody’s spirits.

  And thank the stars they did. Dead heat until the last minute, then Rory Shields scores a killer try as the clock ticks down the game’s last seconds. Crowd was on its feet roaring louder than the sea in hurricane season. Lili-Daisy shook the wireless thinking it had turned to static. Glim and I cried. Lili-Daisy and Anita danced a Turkey Trot.

  Best thing that ever happened to me, that.

  Honey Bee

  Now, does anybody recall this?

  Finlay savaged me for being sad about my lost braid.

  You remember that?

  And here he is, jubilant about a rugby game. At a time when people throughout Kingdoms and Empires were being shot, stabbed, bombed, having their laughter stolen, their memories jangled, their homes burned to the ground or crushed by falling trees.

  Very well, Finlay. Certainly.

  That was the most important thing. Oh yes, that was what counted. That was everything.

  The rugby game.

  Imagine my not guessing that what was what you meant.

  Just imagine. How foolish of me. How silly I am. What was I thinking?

  On with the story then.

  You’ll never guess what happened next…

  FINLAY

  Ha!

  Nice try, Honey Bee.

  See that? She thinks she’s got me bamboozled. No more dragon fire, just frost, and she thinks she’s got me.

  You’ll never guess what happened next … she writes, meaning Finlay will never guess, so he’ll be stuck and crying: Oh no, what does she mean?! And sighing: You got me, Honey Bee. Hats off to you. And so on.

  But I know exactly what she means. I’m keeping my hat on, thanks. If I was wearing one, I mean, which I’m not.

  She means the influenza epidemic.

  That’s what happened next.

  Remember the Prince was sick? And Honey Bee’s friend Carlos?

  Now everybody started getting sick. I mean, everyone. Shops were shutting down on account of nobody being left to run them. Half the marching band dropped out, soldiers took to their beds. This was a wicked flu. It would start as a regular cold and then, eventually, feverish fits, hacking cough, hallucinations. We blamed Prince Jakob for bringing his illness into town, even though he actually got sick after he arrived. The town council kept sending out urgent requests for Faeries to come and help with their healing magic—we have no Faeries in Spindrift because True Mages don’t tend to get on with our Shadow Mages—but the Faeries were too busy helping out wounded soldiers in other Kingdoms and Empires.

  A lot of people ended up in hospital with it, actually, including Lili-Daisy. Meantime, our Anita spent almost every moment at the Hospital so she had no time left to teach us. Basically, the only adult in charge was Cook, and he never pays attention to us. He serves up our food, thinking his own thoughts, and scoots off for a game of cards with the Sterling Silver Foxes.

  We were left to roam the streets as we liked.

  And we did like that. Very much.

  So, I know exactly what Honey Bee meant with her guess what happened next.

  She’s so pleased with herself.

  Just like a Brathelthwaite student.

  Listen, in case you’ve missed this, Dominic Rowe, Deputy of Brathelthwaite, is her Uncle Dominic. He’s family. She’s like the essence of Brathelthwaite. (And you wonder why I’m not that fond of her?)

  Honey Bee

  Do you know, I am suddenly rather tired.

  Weariness pours over me like syrup.

  So much bickering with Finlay…

  I used to like Finlay, you know. He is such a wild, funny boy. If there is a brick wall, everyone else will walk alongside it, but Finlay will clamber up the side and run along its top.

  He takes no nonsense from Victor either, even if Victor is a duke, and Finlay just a poor orphan. And he can see that Hamish is a dolt but does not mock him for it, or not too often, anyway.

  In real life, Finlay is friendly and fair, so when he said earlier that he found me ‘annoying’, I honestly thought he was joking!

  It has hurt my feelings, rather, as we’ve gone along and I’ve realised that he means it.

  I do see why he finds me annoying. I chatter a lot, and I suppose my manners are a bit prim. And yes, I am related to Uncle Dominic. I hadn’t thought of his blaming me for that. But I see it now.

  Also, it might seem dreadful that Finlay’s important thing was a rugby game, but that is part of the strangeness of war. Ordinary life keeps happening. You learn that the Whispering Wars are rippling through all the Kingdoms and Empires. You hear that cities have fallen, thousands taken prisoner.

  Or you read a story like this one in the paper. Read it. Go on.

  Hundreds of men and women from the little Kingdom of Myrtle have marched on the neighbouring Kingdom of Rowan and been gunned down. They did not choose to march and, in fact, have always loved their neighbours in Rowan. Unfortunately, they were under the command of Whisperers and could not help it.

  ‘It broke our hearts to attack our friends in Rowan,’ said one citizen of Myrtle, from his hospital bed. ‘It’s a terrible thing to find yourself raisin
g a weapon against dear neighbours. None of us wanted it. We tried EVERYTHING to resist the Whispers, but nothing worked. Look, I don’t blame the Rowans for shooting at us—what else could they do? I know it broke their hearts to have to do it, too. I’ve lost my leg, and my husband has internal bleeding—not sure if he’ll make it. But what else could they do when we were shooting at them? They had to shoot back, didn’t they?’

  A team of Spellbinders rushed to the battle to release the Myrtles from the Whisperers’ control—but arrived moments too late.

  You read that article and you want to sob for days! (That’s how I felt, anyhow.)

  But you are still happy to learn that there will be peach marmalade for breakfast. Still disappointed to lose a button from your favourite coat. So I suppose you are still excited when your rugby team wins a game.

  Actually, in some ways, these small things are more important, because they remind you that ordinary life is real, and that hopefully it will return one day. You need glimpses of happiness and light.

  So I would like to call a truce with Finlay.

  I’m tired of fighting him.

  Let us simply tell our story. It is the story of the Whispering Wars, and how the Kingdoms and Empires have been shredded like coconut.

  FINLAY

  Well, I have never seen a coconut in my life, so I don’t know about this shredding thing.

  Also, listen, that news about the Myrtleans marching on Rowan? That made me hopping mad. Not sad. I could not believe those Myrtle folk would fall under the Whisperers’ command and shoot their friends and neighbours! Couldn’t blame the Rowans for fighting back; they had to. But the Myrtles should have resisted!