Hexaconda put her long thin hands over her eyes.
Again the picture changed. This time the forest had shrunk and was darker. All the water had disappeared and so had the snake people. Only angry trees remained. But then some of the snake people appeared again, although they were hiding beneath black cloaks, and they ran beneath the trees, out of the forest, and crept into Peganda. There they married the ordinary townsfolk, trying to become more human and less snake. A brief set of pictures explained what was happening, and then suddenly Emperor Krillester Hazlett marched into view from the mighty palace at Bymion. He was dragging his crying son behind him. The boy Ninester, his bright blonde hair in his eyes, was sobbing. His knees bled and his hands were scratched. “Get up, brat,” Krillester called. “You’re weak and stupid. You’re no son of mine. I disown you.”
They reached the heart of old Peganda, where Krillester hurled his son into one of the dirty wet gutters, and turned to another man who had hurried up. A few of the spectators recognised Lob, Deben’s father, who walked with Deben, holding his hand.
Lob pushed Deben into Krillester’s arms. “There,” said Lob. “Have him. He has the strongest magic I’ve ever seen, but he’s bad. Cruel and mean and angry. It’s black magic he does and he’s never done a good thing in his life.”
Krillester held the boy tight but it was no embrace. He shook the boy, saying, “Now you’re my son, Ninester. You tell no one your old name. You forget you were ever called Deben, and you obey every single word I ever say to you. You practise dark magic, but you never use it on myself, or on anyone else unless I tell you. You belong to me. Remember that. If you ever disobey, I’ll have you thrashed. If you continue to disobey, I’ll have you killed. But behave as I tell you and work hard at your dark magic, and you’ll become the next emperor after me.”
Deben’s look of fury turned to a smile of smug excitement. But behind them both, Ninester was still sobbing. “Please, Papa,” he wept, “let me stay at my home with you. I love my home. I promise I won’t tell anyone what’s happened.”
The pictures ended.
Abruptly everyone started talking at once, both sides of the arena were buzzing with gossip, complaints, and shouting questions. Granny lifted a finger and there was a great boom of noise like a hundred bells clanking. As the echoes died away, Granny shouted, “The Hazletts are not Hazletts at all. They are Quosters. Snake people. The adoption of Deben changed everything.”
“But neither Krillester nor Deben are here to question,” called someone.
“I shall answer questions,” said Hexaconda, standing up and walking over to the glass dome. “I am a Quoster, and not ashamed of it. I love my shape and my power and my daughter. But I do not love my husband,” and she pointed at Clebbster, “even though he’s a Quoster too. There are no more Hazletts. The Quosters are magical people, but many prefer the dark magic like Deben.” She sat down again as the shocked silence poured over the seats and spectators.
Clebbster had seemed almost too shocked to do anything while the pictures spread over his head, but now he was furious, pointed up and shouted, “Now.”
Great blinding spurts of red light smashed their way through the glass. The glass had been thick, precious and magical but now it broke into long sharp splinters, and Clebbster began throwing these through the air at Granny.
Yet once again she blocked everything. With a click of her finger and thumb, all the smashing glass swept back together again, there were neither splinters nor broken pieces, and the glass dome was once again complete. The red flashes flopped into little pink sparkles which flew around as if they were butterflies. Then those also disappeared and Granny was left standing on the daisies looking at Clebbster.
He mumbled something but Granny understood and held up both her hands. They seemed to be covered in huge white fluffy gloves, and as a black explosion came rushing through the air from Clebbster to Granny, she caught it in her gloves, and threw it back. But it exploded in mid-air between them both, dropping its spokes and arrows on the ground, where the daisies seemed to grow over, making it all disappear.
“I object,” yelled Nathan, standing up and pointing at Clebbster.
“I support that objection,” cried Messina.
“As I do,” called Zakmeister. And quickly a hundred others shouted their support. “Clebbster cheated,” said Zakmeister, raising his voice above the crowd. “That last assault wasn’t within the third and fourth level of pure magic. It was a direct attack and could have killed Altabella.”
“Rubbish,” Lester called back. “Just a few little innocent sparkles.”
“I declare Clebbster a cheat,” called Hexaconda.
“I refuse to agree,” shouted Lester even louder.
“Very well,” said Messina with a sigh. “It is not worth the argument, since very clearly the Octobr side has won this round, and has therefore won the entire trial, being awarded three wins out of a possible five.”
“No, no,” screamed Lester. “This is entirely absurd. This last round was a draw. I will not claim a win for the Hazletts even though Clebbster did produce some very clever magical tricks. To break the whole dome was remarkable since I presume it was made as unbreakable. This proves that Clebbster’s magic is stronger than yours.”
“I concede the initial breakage was mighty,” said Messina with a gulp, “but Altabella Octobr dismissed it and made the entire dome whole again, including the banishment of all cracks and splinters. So once again her magic proves the strongest.”
“No,” Lester’s scream was piercing. “Clebbster permitted the rebuilding of the dome, since otherwise the trial could not have continued. So it is undoubtedly a draw.”
Messina turned to Zakmeister. “Shall we permit this?” she asked.
Standing tall, Zakmeister said, “You have all seen the falsity of the Hazlett claim, and how it happens that the last few emperors we have had including the present one, are all Quosters. This is indisputable. However,” and he shook his head, “I accept the third round as a draw. But if the fourth round is either an Octobr win or a draw, then we have won the trial without question.”
Lester did not answer, but sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I announce the fourth round,” he said. “Once again the advanced magic of third and fourth level shall be permitted.”
The weather was now bright with welcome sunshine. The earlier rain had completely dried and the sky was now a cloudless blue. But quite suddenly everything went dark. At first the Octobr supporters thought it had been done by Clebbster, but they soon realised differently. The shadows moved in a strange way, filling the glass dome with black swirling moans and groans. Outside the dome, where the sunshine still remained extremely pleasant, it seemed that the dome was full of strange black creatures eating the light and perhaps even the people.
Clebbster appeared for just a minute, thrown against one glass wall, both his hands banging against the glass to keep himself from falling, but his face, clearly seen, was covered in red sores. Every sore was weeping red blood, and each became a lump, oozing pus.
Granny was sitting on a floating swing, legs crossed as she peered down at Clebbster. He fell, and began to crawl. His moans were loud and he seemed unable to stand. “It’s not fair,” he mumbled. “I’m only just getting better from my horrible daughter’s attack.”
Then, swinging backwards and forwards like a child in the playground, even though this swing was not attached to anything above it, Granny began to sing. To everyone’s surprise, even Messina’s, Poppy’s and Nathan’s, her voice was pure and beautiful. “Though that,” whispered Messina, “is probably magic too.”
Singing loudly as Clebbster crawled amongst the daisies, Granny allowed a little light to enter the dome, showing everything even though the swirling shadows continued.
“Spanner and spoke,
It’s time we woke.
Cream cake and pie,
I never lie.
Eeny meeny miny mo,
Catc
h a Hazlett by the toe,
He’s bound to cry and holler,
But never let him go.
Clebbster’s got a rash,
He’s a pile of trash,
If he doesn’t shut his silly noise,
I’ll give the fool another bash.
I’m making up verses,
Like Clebbster’s son Brewster,
Because he’s not here,
And his father’s much worser.”
Most of the crowd was laughing loudly, giggling happily, or trying to hide their laughs and snorts behind their hoods if they were Hazlett supporters.
The dark shadows then burst apart, Clebbster, no spots of any kind on his face anymore, stood in fury and pointed his long dark finger at Granny. She started to tumble off the invisible swing, but she hurriedly righted herself, and did a little skip in the air, landing lightly in front of Clebbster. “Failed again,” she told him.
Messina was raising both hands into the air and calling, “I declare Altabella Octobr winner of the entire -,” when she was interrupted by a loud whistle, which made her deaf. Everyone shivered. The whistle was piercing and shot through every person’s ears, except for Clebbster. And he, glaring around at everyone, even his own supporters, began to turn into a huge serpent.
His legs closed together, grew far longer, and then longer still, until they stretched across the entire dome, crushing the daisies beneath the weight. His arms seemed glued to his sides, and his whole body stretched, joining the fat coils below. Lastly his shoulders shrank and his head loomed, wide-jawed, wide-mouthed, bright green eyes, and a slithering coat of dark red and black scales.
The serpent grew, wrapped around itself, the head shooting out in anger. No one had ever seen a snake so gigantic nor so fearsome. It snapped, hissing, and its forked tongue lashed out, catching Granny’s hand. She backed away and the serpent grew larger still. Then, in one flashing loop, it sprang a vast coil around Granny’s body, another around her arms, and a third around her neck. It began to squeeze.
“Say goodbye to your filthy friendsssss,” the snake hissed. “Count to five, and you will be dead.” Then it seemed to laugh. “But you can’t laugh, can you, fool? Not while I sssssqueeze you tighter and tighter.”
“Cheat, cheat, cheat,” screamed Poppy.
Banging both her fists on the outside of the dome, Messina tried to yell, “Cheat,” while casting magic to stop this threat at the same time. Yet her magic could not pass through the dome, the daisies protected it.
Nathan stepped forwards and drew out his knife. He held it up in the brilliant sunshine and the golden beams turned the blade luminous. “I am the Lord of Clarr,” he said, “and I command you to crush this glass dome. Then you must fight through the magic within, for it is protected against the magic of others. But the serpent Clebbster must be thrown from my grandmother, and sent flying to Sparkan.”
Messina was crying, and Sherdam was also hammering on the glass. Some of the Hazletts were cheering, but Lester stood quietly, knowing this could not be called a win. Nor would Clebbster easily kill the old witch, for she was also too well protected.
Caught tight within the massive coils of the Quoster serpent, Granny was breathless but had not lost her power. As her breath tightened and became more difficult, she concentrated her power within. But the pain was becoming too much to bear. She felt her body so squeezed that not one muscle nor one bone felt free. The pain sprang from her head to her toes as the serpent’s scales were extremely rough and rasping so as the coils constricted, so they scraped and grazed her until she felt raked by a thousand broken nails.
As the Knife of Clarr caused the glass dome to shatter and melt away as if it had never been real, and leaving no single sparkle of broken splinters, Granny had managed to whisper two words. She could not lift her hands since the snake had pinned them to her sides, but she had other methods to raise magic. Immediately after she had whispered, Clebbster started to uncoil. The thing shivered, and from its mouth came green bubbles. It seemed to choke, spitting the bubbles out.
At the same time, the knife did as it had been ordered. Clebbster, still seemingly a python of crazy size, flew up into the air, released Granny, and went zooming up into the sky.
Laksta and Hexaconda hugged Nathan and Poppy, Alice and Alfie hugged each other, and Messina and Sherdam rushed over the squashed daisies to hug Granny.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nobody bothered to say who had won the round or even the whole trial. It didn’t seem necessary. There was a good deal of clapping, cheering, shouting for the Octobrs, hugging and kissing, and generally insulting the remaining Hazletts. Clebbster was nowhere to be seen.
“It won’t take him long to get back,” muttered Nathan. “The knife sent him to Sparkan. He goes there all the time anyway, so he likes it. He’ll take a holiday to recover and bask in hot water, and then magic himself straight back home.”
“But what will he do then?” asked Poppy.
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” said Nathan.
It was Hexaconda who walked forwards, smiling. “I shall find out,” she said. “I shall return to Sparkan myself, and see what he intends on doing. Call me if you need me. I shall gladly return, and if I discover that Clebbster has terrible plans, then I shall let you know.”
Both the exhilaration and the pain had faded from Granny’s face as she flopped down on one of the now empty benches, her head in her hands. Sherdam sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders. “You did so well, my dear,” he told her. “A magnificent win. The vile wizard cheated at every stage, and yet you still beat him hollow. But we all expected him to cheat,” Granny said, looking up. “It was inevitable. He would not know how to act unless cheating. I beat him a little more easily than I had expected. I believed his magic was stronger than it proved to be. But — ” and she leaned back with a sigh, “being crushed by that vast serpent was more painful than I could have imagined. I really thought I might die.”
Sherdam laughed. “We all rushed to your aid. But it was Nathan who did most to help with that wonderful knife. My spells went nowhere because of your daisies.”
She laughed. “Yes. And I shall make a very big cake for Nathan’s special thank you.”
With two raised fingers, Granny took herself home. Nathan, Alice, Peter, Sam and Poppy went with her, while Tryppa had already returned to the cottage to prepare for the others. A great many of their supporters however, including Zakmeister, Messina, Bayldon, John, Alfie and many hundreds of the Epilogs, Sharr trees, Quosters, and folk of Peganda and elsewhere, had all divided into large groups with an individual leader, marching off to ensure that battles had not started across the land.
They expected the Hazletts to begin the fighting wherever they could, not as a declaration of war, but as small skirmishes in shadowed corners, burning down villages perhaps, and throwing magical explosives over the walls of villages and old houses. The sky-train was engaged to fly over the whole country, watching below to see where fighting might have started.
Fires were reported, but even from a distance, Messina was able to put these out. Zakmeister discovered a fight taking place in Pickles Village close to the cliff-house, but he and three city friends waded into the middle of it, stopping the quarrel almost before it started.
“There’ll be no further trouble permitted,” he roared. “Clebbster, your supposed ruling wizard, both cheated appallingly but also lost the duel. This was won outright by Altabella Octobr, the mother of your true Empress. Every man will now keep the peace.”
Twenty armed men had closed off the gates into Peganda, and here someone lay dead on the cobbles. Bayldon and John recognised four of the past wizard emperors, and ran towards them, swords raised. Wellister and his brother Trimester, both of Lester’s grandsons, were fighting with curved scimitars, shouting and screaming as they fought. Libester fought against three city men, but was so fierce that he seemed to be winning, while above his head, sitting amongst the wizard’s soft blonde
hair, was a small green star. Drops of blood flew through the air, and right in the middle was Jassle, the great warrior woman they had all known some years before. She swept her double-edged sword from her shoulder across the neck of Libester, who collapsed choking in the gutter as Jassle turned to Trimester, but found herself face to face with Zakmeister.
“Hooray,” she cried. “Now we can beat them all.”
It was at that moment that Hermes flew down with a loud squawk. He grabbed at the little green star, grabbed it in his beak and flew up. The star wriggled, stabbing out with its glittering arms, but was unable to escape the clamped beak. Jassle looked up and waved. Now John joined in and with a great slash of his sword, he killed Wellister, who staggered and fell in the gutter puddles, eyes staring open to the sky where Hermes still fought with the star.
Zakmeister was fighting with three other men, not wizards but Hazlett supporters, when out of the shadowed alleys and dark lanes came the running of many footsteps. At first nothing could be seen, but then there was a whoop and a war cry, and at least fifteen young boys came racing into the light. They all carried knives, and clearly knew how to use them.
“Hooray,” cried one, “we fight for our own.”
Looking around, Zakmeister gasped, stared, and almost forgot to keep fighting. His opponent managed to thrust his own knife into Zakmeister shoulder, but it did not penetrate the chain mail which the great warrior wore beneath his jacket. He simply pushed his opponent away and turned to greet the gang of children.
They were all dark skinned with the same deep polished black faces and big black eyes that Zakmeister had himself.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone of my true race,” he called to them. “You must also belong to my old clan, the Tyrells, which I thought must have died out since I see no one else like me. Now I’m pleased to see all of you, but some of you played page to the Hazletts. I saw you. So who do you truly support?”
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