“T’were interesting, all that tree stuff,” said John, his eyes reflecting the dazzle of the volcanic fire. “But I reckon Sparkan and the snake ortta be real weird. Not safe, neither.”
“I trust Hexaconda and Laksta,” said Nathan. “But not the other snakes. I don’t even know what’s a snake anymore. I mean, are some real women? Are some Quosters? Or are most of them just snakes?”
“Do it matter?” demanded John. “They’s all horrible.”
Nathan shook his head. “I don’t hate snakes anymore,” he said, half mumbling to himself. “I think they’re beautiful with all those colours and dry scales and bright eyes, and winding around and around. There’s no other animal can do that. They’re special. And they don’t all have venom either.”
“Nah,” John grinned. “They just squashes you to death instead.”
“So snakes aren’t all snakes,” Nathan sighed, “and trees aren’t all just trees. I wonder what else there is all mixed up in this world.”
“Me, fer a start,” John said. “I doesn’t know whether I wants back home wiv me dad, or stay here wiv me friends.”
After a pause, Nathan said, “We could always bring your father to live over here. Then you’d have both.”
John thought a moment, then said, “And leave me granny over there and never see her again. And me dad could start a grand business wiv ships and trading over here. But mind out fer that squid octopus thing.”
“Brilliant idea.”
They lay on the soft dry grass, enjoying the warmth and peace for some time. A family of small blue furry rabbits hopped over to feed on the clover growing in the grass, and birds flew over, singing like sky-larks.
“Tis sommint else wot ain’t wot it is,” said John suddenly. “Passleram. He ain’t a parrot but he ain’t an eagle neither.”
Nodding, Nathan rolled over. “And there’s more, like blue rabbits. Are they even real rabbits? But we ought to get moving. We have to find the quosters, or at least Laksta, and take her back to the forest. I hope she likes the idea. If she objects, well – we can’t make her.”
“I reckon tis a great forest,” said John, scrambling up. “I’d be happy going there. But not living. Tis too dark.”
“While the Sparkan lakes are bright and hot and bubbling.”
“And full o’ mean snakes.”
The harsh cry of a dragon made them both look up. There were three, all an orange colour which seemed to merge into the fiery clouds. Wings spread, and claws stretched, the small dragons did not look down, nor notice the two humans standing near the edge of the island. They flew on.
Looking back towards the volcano which bubbled over into the hot streams and lakes, John and Nathan started to walk.
Chapter Four
The large glass jar now contained just a few remaining grains of sugar and one very miserable little blue star. Placed on the cottage doorstep, it sat in silence, a little grubby from so many inquisitive fingers, and waiting until someone noticed it. It was some hours before Bayldon opened the door.
“Gracious,” he said, “It’s that Yaark thing that isn’t Yaark.”
Granny popped her head around the door to see what had happened now, and carefully picked up the glass jar. “Yes, poor thing,” she said. “Cheer up, little jelly, I shall get you some food.” The star waved one blue arm, no longer with the strength to glitter. The colour was pale and it lay flat, weak and miserable.
Messina passed her in the corridor. “Ugh, take that thing away,” she said. “Those horrid red jelly things are nearly as ugly as Yaark himself.”
“It’s starving to death, and the fault is ours,” said Granny. “I shall take it to the kitchen and feed it.”
“Meanwhile,” muttered Messina, “Passleram just dumped it here, without setting it free and feeding it himself, or bothering to speak to us and asking us if we wanted it back. I find that very rude.”
“Neither eagles nor parrots are famous for their polite consideration,” Bayldon reminded her.
At that precise moment, there was a roar and rumble, and the whole earth shook. Even the cottage floors shook, and the rugs trembled as though the whole world would soon break apart. The sounds were like mechanical crashes, followed by the high whistle of a squeaky crane. Then, finally, they all heard the thunder, saw the white stabs of lightning through the windows, and hung on to the arms of the chairs where they sat. Sam, who was standing staring out of the front door, actually fell over and Peter immediately stopped playing his lute.
They all waited. And then, after about a quarter of an hour, the noises and the shaking began to fade and a peaceful silence crept back again.
Granny wasn’t startled. “The meteor has left,” she said with a joking little wave of the hand. “They’ve gone off with a sulk because of the muddle over Yaark. But it’s hardly our fault, and I hope Passleram eventually remembers we actually saved him from Clebbster.”
“We’re not going to miss them,” said Bayldon, remembering the dinner party when they were expected to eat ants, beetles and spiders, and raw fish at the very best.
“None of that matters while Yaark is still free,” said Tryppa. “Altabella, are you feeding that jelly-ox?”
She was. Placed out of the jar and onto the kitchen table, the little blue star was now surrounded by mashed potato, chocolate cake and slices of carrots cooked with chopped tomatoes and raisins. As the star leapt onto these piles of food and began to guzzle the lot, Granny ordered it to turn back into its own proper shape. Immediately it burst out of its star and once again became a wobbly red jelly standing with difficulty on it many spindly arms and legs, a little smaller than kitten-size, and still eating avidly.
“Well, well,” said Granny. “Do you want to stay here? Or go home to your meteor?” This puzzled the jelly-ox which was built to take orders and directions and had never ever been asked to make its own choices before. It had no idea what to do and sank down onto the table in a fit of misery. “I see,” smiled Granny, quickly understanding. “Then you had better stay here. You can do the washing up and make the beds, and I shall feed you twice a day.” She paused a moment, then added, “Your name is Jellywop, and when I call that, you must come.” With a faint gaze of disgust at the mess it was making on the table, Granny shook her head, saying, “And now, Jellywop, please clean that up.”
Messina watched her from the doorway. “You want to keep that thing in my house?”
“In my house,” smiled Granny. “Let the poor thing live in its own comfortable manner. It only did what it was told, as those others did. In a way, it was our fault the poor thing nearly starved to death.”
“Not our fault. Yaark’s fault.”
“Come and have some blackberry cake and cream,” said Granny.
Granny had already explained exactly what had happened in the forest, with a few helpful additions from Ninester, such as how well his llama had behaved. It had been decided that fixing the forest was one of the first things Messina would do once she had successfully claimed back her throne.
As they once again sat around the kitchen table that evening, it was Richard III who raised both hands, having finished both pie and cake, and said, “I have no wish to criticise naturally. Yet it appears to have been some time since you first spoke of war and throwing the usurpers from power, madam. However, you have still failed to make any declaration of war or intent.”
Everyone else looked at him in surprise except Henry V, who clapped his hands, saying loudly, “I shall ride at your side, my lady, and lead your troops in the great charge. Do you have a bannerman to hold the Octobr flag? Do you have a trumpeter to announce the challenge?”
Bayldon almost cringed. “I doubt we’re quite ready for that,” he said.
But Zakmeister jumped up and stood looking at Richard and Henry, who were both sitting together. “I am ready at a moment’s call,” he said at once. “I agree. We’ve waited too long.”
“Now or never,” cried Sherdam waving his spoon.
Jellywop, having grown large in order to get the empty plates off the table, was cheerfully carrying them all to the sink with its many hands. Messina regarded it with suspicion. “I don’t relish marching to battle,” she said, “though I admit my son and his friends have mustered allies right across the land.”
“Bannister’s muster,” nodded Poppy. “I helped a bit too. Well, Nat and me, we’re Bannisters because that’s Dad’s name. So we take his name even though it’s Mum who’s the Octobr.”
“I first went to muster for my brother when I was no more than eleven years old,” sighed Richard. “In those days we wanted to prove our courage and become brave warriors. But I soon found battle to be a terrible thing. It’s hard to kill a man right in front of you when you see the fear in his eyes. But the thrill of the charge and the cheering of your men is also hard to resist”.
Messina shuddered. “I am hoping I may be able to arrange matters so that the Hazletts surrender before we have to fight. As far as I know, there are only twenty or so folk in Peganda who back the wizards and not us. The village people and the folk who live on the plains, the marshes and the river banks are all our supporters. Sadly the city of Clarr no longer exists, but the Epilogs are all our friends, and now the Sharr Forest backs us too.
“This leaves only twenty or so inhabitants of the city, and the Hazlett family itself who are against you?” demanded Henry V, amazed. “So you’ve won already.”
“And this thing called Yaark,” said Columbus, looking up from the charts he was studying.
“It’s not that simple,” said Sherdam, leaning forwards. “Yaark is an evil creature from another land, he wants us all dead, but we have no idea where he is or what he’s up to at the moment. Clebbster Hazlett is our principal enemy, and his son Wagster. But his other son Brewster sometimes claims to be our friend although I doubt he’d ever fight his father. Then there’s Clebbster’s wife and daughter, but they have both run away.”
“To Sparkan,” added Alfie, “where all the other loads of animals are all on our side too.”
“But this is crazy,” Richard said. “You should declare war at once.”
“It’s the magic,” sighed Zakmeister, “and the not knowing. It’s only recently we met Clebbster’s wife and daughter.”
“It’s only recently we even saw Clebbster himself,” Granny said. “There might be many more of them around. Hidden. Who knows?”
“If you don’t know,” insisted Henry V, “then you don’t worry about them. But the magic, well I’d worry about that too. But you have remarkable magic yourselves and you outnumber your enemies. I won a battle against an army that outnumbered mine nearly ten to one.”
“But they had no magic powers,” nodded Tryppa. “Clebbster and Yaark have the strongest dark magic we know of. My magic, for instance, can make food look, smell and taste more interesting. I can take a couple of friends with me and in seconds we can be somewhere else. I can help cure a cough, a cut on the arm, or a sprained ankle. Now, that isn’t going to win a war.”
“The Lady Tryppa is being modest,” interrupted Peter. “She plays the magic lute and makes magical music. It’s beautiful. And she’s teaching me.”
“But you can’t win a battle with a lute either,” she said.
Henry VIII had asked for another slice of cake and was now licking his spoon. “Jousting,” he said, mouth full, “now that’s a gentleman’s sport. Real battle is a nasty business unless you sit on the sidelines and make sure to keep out of it all.”
“As your father always did,” said Richard at once.
Bayldon hurried to change the subject. “Then do we put on a joust and invite the Hazlett to take part. I doubt they’d accept. A battle of magic, perhaps.”
“Not a proper joust,” exclaimed Henry.
“A duel, yes indeed,” said Zakmeister, thumping the handle of his knife on the table, which made the table bounce and spilled his glass of water. “A duel of magic. That would be a wonderful test. Would they agree, do you think?”
“Clebbster is sick,” Messina reminded him.
“And we wouldn’t want Yaark to join in.” Sherdam pulled out a pen and paper and started to make notes. “They could have Wagster and Brewster and Clebbster, once he’s able again. And we’d see if he’s got any other magical supporters hidden way.”
“Against me, and you,” Zakmeister replied, “and Messina and Altabella of course. Lady Tryppa, if she wishes to join in. And there are others we could contact.”
“Maybe Hexaconda.” Suggested Poppy.
They all started on the second slice of cake and discussed how they might set up a jousting field somewhere, build the lists and stands, put up a few tents, and make it all seem like a very attractive challenge to Clebbster. “Instead of a real battle?” Sam felt some relief at the idea.
“Clebbster’s still stuck in bed with all those injuries,” Alfie said. “But I could go over to Peganda and deliver a message. Perhaps Alice would come with me.”
“And me,” said Poppy at once.
“And Sam, if he doesn’t mind, so we have a bit of magic with us too, just in case we need it. Old man Octobr’s there, and his son, Habrick, is on Clebbster’s side.”
“Perhaps he’d like to show off in a joust.”
Messina stood, avoided the busy Jellywop which was scuttling around with a wet cloth, and made a decision. “This is an excellent idea,” she said. “And I think we should do both. Challenge them to a joust with three bouts. My husband, Zakmeister and Henry VIII against three of theirs, probably including William Octobr’s horrid son. And then a magical challenge of three against three. Either I or my mother should end by facing Clebbster.”
“Brilliant.” Clapping, a couple of faint cheers, and Tryppa picked up Peter’s lute, put it to her mouth and pretended to blow a trumpet. Granny magicked up the toot-a-toot sound and everyone clapped again.
“This is going to need a lot of planning,” decided Granny. “And we mustn’t leave it too long. Two weeks, perhaps, or as soon as Clebbster admits he’s strong and past the injuries.”
“We should do it while he’s still injured,” muttered Henry VIII.
“We could have a competition.” Peter was bright eyed. “In the magic, I mean. Like you have to build a magic tower and then you have to make it explode. I’d like that.”
“Humph,” said Richard III, disguising the frown. “Not serious enough, I fear. Battle means a fight to the death. I believe you need to destroy this cruel tyrant Clebbster, otherwise your crown is gone forever, as mine was.”
“And then watch what you eat,” Henry V sighed. “I gained my crown. I married the sweet French princess. Within a couple of years, I had died of bad food. Dysentery. A nasty death. I am beginning to remember it all.”
Granny was teaching Jellywop how to wash the dishes. She looked over. “We have the llamas. We have weapons. But do we truly have the will and determination to charge and fight and kill?”
Laying his head on the table, hands clasped on the top of his silver curls, Sam mumbled, “No. I don’t want to hurt people. I want to make friends.
A busy conversation had suddenly faded and now nobody spoke. The silence was broken only by the clash of dishes and the slurp of soapy water.
“I think,” sighed Messina, “you should teach that thing to use the dishwasher instead. It has too many arms and hands and is getting them into knots.”
Granny looked shocked. Sherdam smiled at her, trying to cheer her up. “I know,” he grinned, “you’re going to bake a cake.”
“No.” Granny shook her head. “I don’t want to think of sticking swords into people. I don’t want to go jousting on a llama. I think I shall go to bed.”
“I reckon,” said John, “we ortta do wot we come fer. Then p’raps we can look fer them dragons.”
“I need to make sure the lava wolves are feeding properly first,” Nathan said. “It’s late into autumn now, and that’s when food is more scarce. I need to make sure
they have enough to get them over winter. They’re our allies now. We owe them food and comfort and safe homes.”
“They ain’t got no enemies here, ‘cept them wizards,” John said. “Lest Yaark does sommint.”
“And I’ve never seen a whooshabout. I want to see one while I’m here. But first I have to go to the hot lakes. Coming?” Nathan was still walking directly towards the plumes of fire which sparkled up into the sky, half hidden in thick black smoke with a stench of Sulphur.
“Just be careful,” John said. “Don’ go fallin’ in that water.”
When they came to the edge of the first lake, the bank was shallow, and the steam rose in wisps and bubbles, almost hiding the uneven line between land and lake. The simmering heat could be heard, just like boiling water in a pot. Now they could smell it too.
Both John and Nathan sat down on the bank, keeping their feet away from the actual edge, and watched the pattern of lake and land, for the water trickled from one pond through streams and channels and into a larger pond. Then on again. There were larger rivers and narrow trickles, little more than a creek. Where the water followed a steep slope, it ran quickly, dashing in white foam into the next boiling lake. Slabs of stone floated, swirling and bumping into each other, for the water was never still.
But in almost every place they could peer through the smoke to see what lived, swam, floated and slept in the heat.
There were tiny fish and small scuttling crabs, water-beetles living in the weed which waved in the current, and darting lizards hiding in the rocks. But most obvious of all were the thousands of snakes of all sizes, colours, and behaviour.
A great sense of pleasure hung over the surface of the water. No serpent coiled or attacked another, and none seemed intent on moving from its position, as if each creature was more than delighted with the place where it lay. Yet there were so many.
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