“That’s it, then,” said Nathan. “You and me, then, Pops. Empole and empola, ready to save the world. You ready?”
“I just have to say goodbye to Mum and Dad and the new kittens,” said Poppy, “and I must bring my headband with those feathers,” and she rushed off.
They met again in the garden where the new spring flowers were starting to push up in the grass and beside the bushes. There were tulips and irises, daffodils and jonquils, lilies and freesias. Everything looked so sunny and attractive. “And instead of staying here with all of you,” said Nathan, “off we go to dark forests and more danger. We must be mad.”
“Madness is all in the mind,” said Granny with a wink. “I’ll see you both again soon.
She whizzed them off, and in no more than a blink they stood at the foot of the Clarr Mountains. The snow had melted on the lower levels although they looked up to the white peaks and the snow and ice surrounding the looming dark tower, high up between to vast mountains. There were smaller hills, great chasms and precipices, narrow valleys and more peaks which stretched on and on into the north and west. But where they stood, way below the tower, was grassy and the hills were gentle with wide valleys.
This was where the Epilog City of Clarr had once been built, but now even the ruins were rare, as most had been covered by winter winds, snow and storm. A few wrecked buildings remained.
Poppy looked at one ancient hall and raised her hands, pointing. “Rebuild,” she said. “Go back to the way you were when you were new.” But nothing at all happened, and she laughed. “I’ve got a lot more practice to do,” she said, “but I have as much magic as you now.”
“You don’t know what the key can do for you yet,” he pointed out.
“I know,” she said. “It’s going to be exciting to find out.”
So Nathan held up his knife and Poppy held up her key, and they both called together, “Waterfall. Come back. River of Clarr, come back. Run free from falls to forest as you did before.”
They stood a moment, eyes wide, and practised the fierce determination which Brewster had told them they needed. “When you say the words,” he had told them, “you must also say them silently in your mind with the sort of determination and powerful confidence that knows you will always gain whatever you ask for. You have the force of magic you need, and so will always be successful. As long as you believe you ask for what is right and good”
So this is what they did, and Poppy even looked quite ferocious as she spoke those words. Yet neither of them truly expected anything to happen. They really thought they would have to try many different things and wait a long time to get anything to happen – and even then it might only be a drip-drip-drip of a trickle.
Instead, a huge rumble and roar echoed behind them and they whizzed around and looked up.
“Run,” yelled Poppy, and they both ran like mad, for the waterfall they had called, now sprang from the tiny narrow valley between two peaks and thundered down in a magnificent cascade, down, down, down in spray and bubbles and billows of beautiful water, until reaching the ground below where a wide river began to form and foam.
Within only moments they both stood, mouths open in amazement and delight as they watched. The tumbling falls were deeper than they had ever imagined, tipping from mountain to valley in a pure white screen of rushing water, and the river into which this fell, became smooth, wide and fast. It travelled on through the Clarr Valley and on and on following the low ground until it disappeared way into the distance.
“Don’t stop,” shouted Nathan, waving his hands at the raging water. “Keep on. Be like that forever.” He didn’t know that was a magical statement, but he was excited, and he hoped that was how it was going to be.
For some time they wandered along the banks, watching as the river flowed, large birds came down to catch fish from the river, and spray splashed up either side. “It’s just as if it was always here,” smiled Poppy.
“Well, that’s what we wanted,” nodded Nathan. “We asked it to be just like it used to be. And now it always will.”
“I hope.”
“We’re in Clarr,” Nathan said, standing still for a moment and looking back over his shoulder to the massive waterfall and the distant shadow of the tower. “This is the River Clarr. I’m the Lord of Clarr and you’re the Warden. Don’t you see, Pops? Now we really do rule here.”
“It doesn’t feel real,” Poppy admitted.
“That waterfall is like thunder. That should convince you you’re not dreaming. This is what life means now. We’re Octobrs.”
“We’re Bannisters.”
“Same thing.” Nathan couldn’t stop grinning. “Come on, let’s walk on. It’s a long way to Sharr Forest. I wonder if we could make a boat.”
“I wish we’d brought Hermes with us.”
Shaking his head, Nathan said, “Too late for that now.”
“Or magic ourselves?”
“Why not?” Nathan held up both arms and his knife while poppy held up both arms and her key. “Take us to the Sharr Forest,” he said. “And the houses of the Epilogs.”
Both knife and key shone with brilliance, the water seemed to flow even faster, Poppy closed her eyes with a gasp and Nathan opened his eyes very wide with a gulp of surprise. For without even one blink, they stood in the dark shadowed forest and night was falling. The smaller pink moon was peeping through the branches of a thousand trees, and the first glimpse of new leaf and bud gleamed in the moonlight.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ninester scratched his nose. “Is that how you build ships?” he asked. “Doesn’t seem very quick to me.”
Ferdinand looked a bit hurt. “I can’t go faster,” he said. “It’s hard work and it has to be right. You don’t want wonky bits or cracks or nail holes, do you? The whole thing has to be perfect, or everyone would drown. And after I’ve finished, then the whole keel has to be tarred. Besides, there’s going to be a huge crew on this ship.”
“So tell them to get off and walk,” suggested Ninester.
Ferdinand sighed. It was John who interrupted. “It ain’t gonna take too long when me friends get here,” he assured Ninester. “But we ain’t got no magic, has we? T’will take a lot o’ magic to make a big ship and all fancy like. And we wants three, cos there be a mighty lot of us. Three captains fer a start.”
“I don’t see why captains can’t share,” said Ninester.
“I require my own ship,” said a man with a strong Italian accent. “I have sailed across the world, and I intend doing the same here. I shall name my ship The Santa Maria.”
“That be Christopher Columbus,” John whispered to Ninester. “He be mighty particular. ‘Sides, he reckons he’s the best. But so do me dad, and so do Cap’in Jim.”
Arthur Crinford stood watching, and the sweet spring sunshine was making his face quite shiny. He took off his hat and held it under his arm. “I must say,’ he muttered, “the weather is much better here than in England.”
“Dunno ‘bout the sea though,” said John. “We’s got real big octopussies and big waves n’all.”
“Octopussies?” remarked Captain Jim.
“Nice, some of ‘em,” John added. “T’wer the ruddy huge ‘un wot saved me life.”
“We’re expecting Zakmeister soon,” smiled Arthur. “He is going to use some of his magic for us on these ships. But first we have to make something he can copy, and understand the sort of ship we need. And he’s interested, because the Tyrell Clan is a new country across the waves, and that’s where he comes from too. He thinks it must have been his great grandfather who somehow got ship-wrecked in Lashtang a hundred years ago.”
“Just as long as Clebbster doesn’t come along and live in the black house again,” said Ninester. “Because he’s nasty and when he’s here, I want to leave Pickles Village.”
“We’ll be safe when Zakmeister comes,” sighed Columbus. “But I must admit, the whole magic situation is most troublesome.”
“I
fink tis wonderful,” said John. “Wish I could be a magic wizard.”
Indeed, it was the following day when Zakmeister and Sam turned up, suddenly appearing on the quay where Ferdinand and four other men were hammering away in the dry dock. John was now well accustomed to people making sudden magical appearances, but Arthur and Jim were not, and they both gave a gulp and nearly fell over.
Sam gazed up at the large black house on the cliffs above, but he scurried beside Zakmeister, holding his hand. “It’s a fine ship so far,” said Sam watching as the keel was planked. “But is it big enough?”
“This will be my Santa Maria,” smiled Columbus. “Those of my crew who have come here are not numerous. I shall be content with a three sail explorer, and there’ll be no need for cannon. But two or three lifeboats may be essential.”
Zakmeister leaned back against the stacked buoys along the low wall. “Tell me everything,” he said, “and I shall attempt to build the ships you need. The Santa Maria, the Octobr Empress, and – I can’t think of another name.”
“Bannister’s Muster,” said Sam and John almost together.
“’Twill be perfect,” grinned John. “And that can be me dad’s fer cap’n. Bannister’s Muster be a right good name.”
The shadows were bending forwards, whispering amongst the leaves.
“They’re telling us something,” decided Poppy. “That’s the secret door for the Epilogs. Has to be.”
Although he wasn’t convinced, Nathan pulled on the long thin twig which bent from the beech tree, but nothing happened so he pulled it again.
“My lord,” said a cheerful voice behind him, “did you want that twig for any special reason? I’ll cut it off for you if you wish.
Poppy and Nathan whirled around, and there stood the vague outline of their Epilog friend, Younger Willow. Poppy giggled and Nathan said, “No, no. We just wanted to find one of your magic doors.”
“Follow me, my lord and lady,” said Younger Willow, and within minutes they were in the Epilog underground town with its snug and crowded cottages, narrow winding streets, glimpses of daylight above in some places but mostly dark and hard to see. But the vague appearance of the Epilog people started to emerge, and soon they were surrounded. Everyone was bowing and clapping and saying how honoured they were to be visited by the empole and empola.
“We’ve come for a special reason,” said Nathan, sitting down on the wooden chair someone brought out for him. “It’s a long story, but I’ll try and make it quick.”
“He’s useless at telling stories,” interrupted Poppy, also sitting down.
“I’ll make it short – if I’m not interrupted,” said Nathan, frowning at Poppy. “Thing is, Epilogs all came from Clarr. You had a city there, and the Lord of Clarr was your king. Well’ that’s me now. But the city got ruined when the wizards took over and hated you because you’re more or less invisible. Hard to see, anyway. So you came here. You even managed to bring up underground water in the little fountain for drinking. But it used to be the Quosters living here. They were hounded out by the wizards too, and all their water got diverted and stopped. So they got killed, or went to Sparkan, where there’s hardly any food.”
“The Quosters are dangerous folk,” said Younger Willow. We couldn’t stay here if they come back.”
“I want to do things right,” Nathan announced. “For a start, as Lord of Clarr, -”
And Poppy interrupted, “And I’m the Warden of the Key.”
“I want to invite you all back to Clarr,” Nathan continued. “I’m going to rebuild the city. It’ll be marvellous, I promise. The new empress is going to help and she magics up gorgeous things. No payment of course. But the tower all cleaned up, and a brand new city on the low hills and in the valleys.”
More and more of the Epilogs were crowding into the square where both Nathan and Poppy were sitting, and although everyone was terribly squashed, there was a great buzz of general excitement.
“Nat brought back the waterfall,” said Poppy, clapping her hands.
Nathan could hardly tell her off for interrupting when she said things like that. So he smiled and added, “The waterfall at Clarr, and the River Clarr and even the fish – they’re all back just like they used to be. Well that’s good for Clarr and it’s good for Sharr Forest as well. The trees want the Quosters back and now there’s water, we can ask them to come.”
“Such a lot of change,” sighed one woman. “Do we have to build boats to carry our beds all that way?”
“No, of course not,” Poppy said with a wide smile. “Most of it will be magic, and if there’s not enough of that, then we will hire men to bring the luggage in boats and carts.”
Nathan nodded. “Just imagine living in bigger houses and not all on top of one another, with a beautiful waterfall and a river so you can have water piped straight into your kitchens with real bathrooms too. And lots and lots of daylight all the time, and being able to go out without creeping around. You can start your own markets, and keep animals and have holidays.”
“What’s a holiday?” asked one old man.
“Will it be dangerous?” asked another.
“Will there be a freeze on the mountains?” asked a third.
“You won’t be living on mountain peaks,” sniffed Poppy. “You’ll live in the valleys where the sun shines.”
“And no danger – once we get rid of Clebbster and Yaark,” sighed Nathan.
“We know that your illustrious grandmother Altabella won the legal right to take the throne,” said Younger Willow. “But has the wizard conceded?”
Nathan shook his head. “No,” he shrugged, “but we have to put that right. I don’t know how, but we’ll do something.”
“We’ll help,” said Younger Willow. “Whatever you say, we’re happy to help. Aren’t we, my neighbours?”
Everyone cheered.
“Now,” said one of the elderly Epilog women, “come into the warm and have a nice cup of tea.”
It was the next day when Poppy and Nathan left the Epilog village and went deeper into the forest. They had slept well and eaten well, but they knew that now the real work would come. At first, trying to discover where the river ran through the forest, and to make sure it had indeed come this far, they saw very little except darkness beneath and between the many thousands of trees.
Both asked, “Do you know where Soar is? The great oak tree? Soar? Can you tell him that we’re here?”
Yet the trees were still suspicious. Perhaps because they had seen these two humans come up from the underground Epilog houses. No one answered and Soar did not come.
Nor could they find the river at first, until Nathan said suddenly, “Wait, Pops. I think I can hear running water.”
But from between the trees ahead came not water, but a huge elegant tiger, and Poppy ran forwards and flung her arms around its neck. “Oh, Gilden,” she said, “I’m so terribly glad to see you” Then she paused a moment, drew back, and said, “You’re not Yaark, are you?”
Gilden chuckled. “No, my human friend,” he said softly. “But I can lead you to the river, which you have released to the pleasure of the trees.” He looked up. “Now you drink, now you grow new leaf, now you bring spring buds and your roots are no longer parched. That has been achieved by the two humans you have been trying to ignore. This is Nathan, the empole and the Lord of Clarr. And this is Poppy, the empola and the Warden of the Key of Clarr. They have brought back the river. It is because of them that you live with a promise of peace, food, and happiness.”
“Humph,” said a tall sycamore tree, its swishing breath sounding like leaves in the wind, “will these humans bring back our friends the Quosters?”
“Oh, yes, we will,” called Poppy.
“I’m already a friend of Soar,” said Nathan, now a little impatient. “Tell him I’m here. He knows who I am. So does the Great Council.”
“But,” interrupted a rather squeaky elm, “what if you lie? Then the great Soar will wallop us with
his branches.”
“Come with me,” said Gilden. “I will take you to the river. We will follow its course to where it ends at the hot springs and the lakes of Sharr. Soar will be there, drinking deep. Quick, climb on my back.”
His fur was thick but a little rough, and Nathan and Poppy climbed on very carefully with Poppy hanging on to Gilden’s neck, and Nathan hanging on to her from behind. Then Gilden bounded away, racing through the trees like a flash of brilliant orange and golden lightning.
Soon they could see the glitter of water in the distance, and as Gilden stopped suddenly on the wide river bank, so both rolled off his back, sat up on the scrubby grass, and gazed at the river in front of them.
The water seemed calm although it ran fast, and they could see the current and its long ripples midstream. It looked deep, but by the banks on both sides it was calm, flat and a beautiful blue reflecting the trees and the sunshine. “This is the River Clarr,” Gilden said, “returning to the forest at your wondrous and magical orders. Every tree, every Epilog and every Quoster will thank you both for this wonderful gift.”
“Not so far,” sniffed Poppy.
Now they followed Gilden along the bank to where the water spread out into a great lake, and in places there were spouts of water where bubbled steamed and a cloud of steam hung over the centre.
“The hot springs from underground have leaped back,” Gilden said, “now there is a lake to house and welcome them. Soon all this lake will boil. It will be the home of the Quosters.”
“Surely you don’t like the Quosters?” asked Poppy. “They can be very dangerous and bad-tempered, and they don’t know you.”
“Soon they will,” Gilden said. “But I shall not stay here forever. Once Messina Octobr sits the throne with her two children in power at Clarr, I will bring my friends and family and return to my previous home, which is in the higher mountains of Clarr.”
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