That made Alice smile. “Brewster was a lot more than just a shadow or a wind.”
“That is because we are the Octobr family,” Granny sighed. “With Messina and Bayldon locked away in the ice chamber at Clarr, I had been stuck spending most of my life looking after Nathan and Poppy. I tried to rescue Messina but Yaark’s magic is very strong. But Clebbster wasn’t interested in helping Messina, he wanted Nat and Poppy so he could trap them too. He didn’t want them living safe and quiet in Hammersmith. He wanted the whole Octobr family in prison.”
Alice bit her lip. “So Brewster was not helping any of us? He was just obeying his rotten father?”
“I’m not so sure.” Granny paused, thinking vaguely, then said, “I never really considered it before, but Clebbster must surely have ordered his sons to bring Nathan straight over to Lashtang. But Brewster took Nat to medieval London first. Was that so he could make friends first, and eventually arrive in Lashtang with some friends to help him? I believe so. Otherwise poor Nat would have been abducted alone, and imprisoned at once. Instead, he has had wonderful adventures with you all. I had a good feeling about all this from the first day.”
“So you knew?”
Granny shook her head. “Oh dear no. But I dream, you see. I dreamt about all sorts of things. I still get messages, and I had several messages back then. I always felt it was safe, and I should let things happen just as they did.”
“So perhaps Brewster was always a sort of a friend?” Alice was puzzled.
“I don’t think he was ever a friend,” said Granny. “He was a strange and crazy wizard with his own crazy madcap ideas. I believe that describes it best.”
“Well, he’s a friend now,” said Alice, “so I’m going to go and sit at his bedside and hold his hand and hope and hope he gets better.”
“A full strength curse from that terrible Clebbster might be too much for us to take away,” sighed Granny. “But we will try.”
As Tryppa and Peter, both holding tightly to their lutes, were whisked off from the cottage to the hot lakes on Sparkan, on the northern coast of Lashtang, Nathan and Poppy were sitting with Gilden, Ralgia and Trakken under a weeping willow, its new spring leaves fluttering in the breeze.
Trakken still lay on his side, but he breathed deeply and both eyes were bright and open. Ralgia was almost skipping, for not only had she been completely cured but now her partner was also brought back from the brink of death and entirely cured.
“This is like being reborn,” she said.
The huge male opened his massive jaws wide, and yawned. Then he struggled and managed to sit up. At first he seemed a little shaky but slowly he found his balance, and sat steady and firm. Then he nuzzled Ralgia
“Between all of you,” he said, a little gruffly, “you have saved my life, and also that of my faithful mate. I thank you most sincerely. I thought to die. Indeed, when Yaark took over my thoughts and I felt myself tiny and squashed without hope inside my own head, I wanted to die. I did not want to live as a cruel monster, ready to kill my friends and my own wife.”
“We’ve spoken enough of this,” whispered Ralgia. “Now we need to speak of a bright future and happiness to come.”
“Not while Yaark is still alive,” Trakken said.
“While Yaark occupied your mind,” said Gilden, “did you know his thoughts? Do you know what he intends doing now? Where he is? Or even how we can destroy him?”
Trakken sadly sank down again, his head between his huge paws. “I believe so,” he murmured. “But they are evil thoughts. He wished to travel back to his home on the meteor where he will recruit all those stars who support his fight for power. He already has some star followers who now stay in some black palace by the sea. When there are hundreds more who will gladly support him, which he believes there are, he will explode all the other meteors, and then claim kingship of the world, murdering anyone who speaks against him.” Trakken sighed. “I know no other details. His thoughts were a jumble of black evil, and hard to understand.”
“After I had rid myself of his wickedness inside my mind,” Gilden said, “I was sick and weak for many days, but I remembered very little. You have done well, Trakken.
“The humans have done well,” Trakken said, stretching out a paw to Nathan. “You saved my life and you have saved Ralgia’s. Before that you saved Gilden. If you take the throne from the wizards, I believe you will save the whole of Lashtang.”
Having three more golden figs in his pocket, Nathan stood, pulling them out and handing one to each of the tigers. They were now so beautiful, he could hardly stop watching them as their fur gleamed golden in the sun, and the dark stripes seemed like polished rock. “Here,” he said. “Poppy and I must first return to Clarr, and then to Sparkan to speak with the Quosters. I can get more figs at Clarr where my grandmother’s friend Sherdam has planted a whole orchard. If you return to live there one day, you can eat these almost daily.”
Gilden chuckled. “We might grow too fierce if we ate these every day. They bring great strength and healing.”
“Why must we go back to Clarr?” asked Poppy. “I wanted to go up to Sparkan.”
Nathan blushed as if he was embarrassed to say it, but eventually he mumbled, “I’ve been called.”
Poppy stared around. No one was there except the weeping willow tree where they sat in seclusion and the three resting tigers. “Who called you?” she demanded. “And called you for what?”
“My knife called me,” admitted Nathan. “I heard it in my head, just like I talk to it. I say, “I’m the Lord of Clarr and I speak to the Knife of Clarr. Well, it came into my head just like that. It said, “I am the Knife of Clarr and I speak to my Lord of Clarr. It is imperative to return to the tower of Clarr immediately.”
They said goodbye to Trakken, Ralgia and Gilden, all of them lying in the shade now and resting, and then Nathan and Poppy pushed between the long leafy branches of the weeping willow tree and stepped out into the sunshine. They could hear the sounds of the river, and the ripples in the wind, but they turned away and walked a few paces across the tufted grass. “Now,” said Poppy. “We can go together.”
They raised their hands, holding the key and the knife, and asked to be taken back to Clarr. Without the slightest hesitation, they were whisked up into the air and instantly found themselves standing in the entrance hall where the mosaic patterns were shining in the light through the skylight above.
“I must say,” grinned Nathan. “It’s fantastic having this little bit of magic. But what are we supposed to do now?”
“Ask the knife,” said Poppy at once. “And perhaps I should ask the key as well.”
“I think I’ll keep hold of the knife anyway,” said Nathan. “I’m not sure why I have to be here, but it’s always something dangerous, isn’t it? I mean, we think Clebbster shot off back to his house in Pickles after booming at poor Brewster, but we can’t be sure. Perhaps he’s still here.”
“Or Yaark is after my key,” muttered Poppy.
“Then let’s be careful,” said Nathan. “I want to start in the library.. At least we have friends there and they know a lot. They might even know what’s going on here at the moment.”
“Well, this is the way,” said Poppy, still wearing her headband of peacock feathers. “And I still have the quill in my pocket too, and perhaps should put it back where it belongs.”
But as they walked up the corridor, there was a cold shivery feeling, and they both began to wonder if something was wrong. Nathan clutched the knife even tighter, and Poppy knew her teeth were chattering, and she couldn’t stop.
“I’m frozen,” she whispered.
“So am I,” Nathan whispered back. “But it’s not really cold. It’s ice of a different kind.”
“Then it’s a threat. It wasn’t ever so cold in this library corridor before. So what’s different now?”
There was a pause. Poppy stared up at Nathan, waiting for an explanation. “Behind you,” Nathan mumbled not daring
to speak louder.
Poppy whirled around. Looming through the darkness were four of the Hazlett wizards from the past. Urrster Hazlett clenched both fists and smiled. His forked tongue flicked out. A taller man stood behind him, Davister! recognised Nathan with a gulp, was Clebbster’s father. Next to him stood one of the earlier fair-haired emperors, Tallister, and beside him was the shorter and very dark man, Jallister, Deben’s son. But first, ahead of them all was someone else, not a Hazlett at all. It was Hambrick, the son of old man William Octobr. The empole who had never become emperor. He carried both axe and sword.
“You don’t belong here,” Poppy yelled. “I’m the warden. Nat’s the lord. You don’t have permission. How dare you. This is a library.”
Grinning with smug satisfaction, Hambrick swung his axe, almost chopping the heads of the past emperors standing behind him. “I’m pleased to meet you both here,” he said. “I hated you two brats most of all when I met your crowd, you two and your vile grandmother. Lord and warden, are you? Well, you can claim whatever you like, but you’re never leaving here alive.”
“You wanted to be emperor, but you’re prepared to murder the previous empole?” Nathan glared, unmoving. “That’s as bad as the Hazletts.”
“And they have more courage, more right to the throne after all these years, and more power,” Hambrick said, almost snarling through his teeth. “I count myself one of them now.”
“You’re an Octobr,” Poppy shouted back. “You should be proud of it. Your father is.”
“My father’s dying.” Hambrick laughed. “Silly old fool – never could decide which side he was on. Lord Clebbster got tired of his stupid arguments and pushed him out of the window. I’m sure he fell off the cliff. He’s either dead and swept out to sea, or he’s hobbled off to die on the beach.”
“And you laugh? We were never friends with him,” Nathan said, shocked, “but he nursed Clebbster for weeks after the wizard was injured, and he looked after you too. And where’s Tansel?”
“Mind your own business,” Hambrick shouted back, and again he swung his axe. It missed Nathan as he shuffled back against the wall, but it clipped Jallister’s chin behind, and he roared in fury, grabbing Hambrick by both shoulders and tossing him aside. “You’ll die, both of you,” Jallister repeated the other man’s words, “But first we need a voluntary gift of both knife and key.”
“Oh yes.” Poppy laughed. “If we don’t give them to you, when you kill us and try to take them, they’ll burn you and set the whole tower on fire. Well,” she put her hands on her hips, “I’m not giving you anything.”
Hambrick, now angrier than ever, grabbed both her hands and dragged her into the light. He started to pull her coat open to look for the pocket and the key, when suddenly the peacock feathers on her headband jerked upright, and a strange and angry voice, high pitched, screamed, “Don’t touch me.”
Everyone looked around, but the voice had come from the feathers on Poppy’s head, and it was answered by another voice from her pocket. “Who are these people? Have I been asleep?”
There was an explosion so loud it rocked the walls of the corridor, and a huge swirl of sour black smoke began to fill the space, curling around their faces and making everyone cough. Hambrick leaned over and was violently sick, while Nathan and Poppy staggered back against the closed door of the library.
More small voices came from beyond the door as the books, scrolls, documents, pens and paperweights woke suddenly, aware of the danger outside. Interrupting the squeaks, complaints, calls for help and puzzled remarks from behind the door, Hambrick and the four past emperors were now on their knees, their weapons clattering to the stone floor as the peacock feathers both from Poppy’s band and from the quill in her pocket both began to call, wailing high with the echoing call that a living peacock would make in the forests.
The sounds of the explosion faded away but the smoke did not, it thickened until nothing could be seen except the thick black haze, rushing up, around, down and into everyone’s eyes, noses and mouths. It was becoming impossible to breathe and as they all coughed, struggling, and trying to avoid the foul stink of sulphured smoke and magic, so Clebbster stumbled into their midst, bent over and wheezing, then finally collapsing onto the ground amongst his men.
He scrambled up, half hidden by smoke, screeching, “What is it here? I gave orders for you to get the knife and the key first. Why did you call me now?”
Everyone stared at everyone else, then Hambrick shouted, “I didn’t do a thing.”
And The four emperors, hurrying to stand and wiping the smoke from their eyes, made various complaints, explaining that they had not called Clebbster at all. Clebbster croaked. “Then why am I here?”
“I called you,” said a voice. “Pick me up.”
Clebbster had dropped his cane. The handle where the wooden peacock now seemed to be coming alive, had fallen in the thickest of the smoke, but now leapt upright on its own, and the feathers fanned out in a great display of colour. The dark wings spread, the cane swept into the air, and the long stick belted Hambrick hard over the head. “This is ridiculous,” roared Clebbster. “What is happening? Whose magic is this?”
“Mine,” said the peacock cane.
“And mine,” said the feathers from Poppy’s head.
“And mine,” said the quill pen from her pocket.
With narrowed eyes shining dark green, Clebbster turned on everyone within the dark and narrow corridor, the swirling black smoke still making everything difficult to see. He lifted his cane and slammed out at Poppy, but the cane danced away, making circles in the smoky air, and refusing to smash down on Poppy’s hair. Instead Clebbster reached out to grab the feathers from Poppy’s head, but the quill leapt from her coat and jabbed it’s silver nib into Clebbster’s hand.
He reached out and his elongated and curled nail and index finger swiped across Poppy’s face, cutting into her nose, which bled. She pulled back, holding her hand to her nose to stop the blood and the pain. Now she was coughing even more as she choked on smoke, stink and her own injury. “You beast,” she yelled, and kicked.
“Beast, beast, beast, beast,” screamed the peacock walking stick, whacking Clebbster hard across both knees.
The corridor was in chaos. The noises were wild as the high wailing cries of peacocks mixed with the shouting and cursing of the men, the furious snarl of Clebbster and the frightened cries from Poppy. Nathan pushed into the centre of the men and the smoke and shouted as loudly as he could, “Hexaconda. Laksta. You said you’d come if I need you and call. Well, I’m calling.”
He turned back to Hambrick, who was ready to hurl his axe. Quickly Nathan ducked, and the badly thrown axe struck Jallister in the chest and neck. He immediately grunted and fell to the floor. “You killed him,” yelled Poppy. “What a fool.”
Hambrick turned on her but another unexpected shape was appearing within the smoke. The tall thin woman, her green hair moving continuously around her face and shoulders, swooped towards Clebbster, grabbing him with a clenched grip on both his ears, and thrusting him back against the library door. The door swung open but Clebbster grasped the surround and managed not to fall backwards.
“You brats won’t escape me this time,” snarled the wizard. “Oh no. You’ve got away too often in the past. This time it’s the end, the absolute painful end of both of you.” Reaching up for his cane, Clebbster called, “Twillgo Rudge, you traitor. I command you obey. Come immediately to my hand.”
“You call me that, but it is not my name,” the cane called back. “I am the great peacock Hollax, king of kings and emperor of all the birds, past and present of Lashtang. How dare you imprison me and tame me to your vile orders all these years? I have obeyed only because I was forced by your wicked magic. Now I live again and I am no longer your servant, I am Hollax Voxle, king of kings.”
His fingers were rigid around the wooden neck of his cane, but Clebbster felt the peacock shift, and although still in his own grip the cane
switched direction and pushed itself hard into Clebbster’s eye. He spluttered, howled, and fell backwards.
Her legs combining into the serpent’s coils, Hexaconda slithered towards Clebbster, then lashed out with the tip of her tail, swiping him back down to the stone floor.
Suddenly Laksta swooped through the smoke more like another peacock than a snake. Her wind-blown scarlet hair blew back and she hurtled towards her father. In her hand she carried the enormous deformed fingernail that she had taken from him in Peganda when he had lain half dead from her beating, the nail having cracked in half. Black and crooked, it looked like a thin twisted knife, and Laksta jabbed it directly into Clebbster’s hand, close to where he had grown a new fingernail, the source of his magic. “Your power is my power,” murmured Laksta softly. “I do not wish you dead, my father, but I wish you powerless.”
Scrambling forwards, Urrester grabbed Hexaconda’s tail and she swung it, trying to throw him off, he hung on and was swept hard against the door frame, where he fell unconscious. Then Hexaconda took him into her coils and constricted her muscles. The Hazlett wizard disappeared.
Clebbster was trying to pull his own broken fingernail from his hand, but it was twisting inwards and he howled, unable to wrestle it out from his flesh. His father, Davister, was cackling like boiling water, and Clebbster spat, and lunged at his father. Davister tumbled into the open library doorway and with a bounce like a rubber ball, Evertep the paperweight flew from the desk and cracked the old man over the head.
Jaillister and Urrester were dead but Hambrick, although wounded, still lived. So did Davister and Tallister. Now they surrounded Clebbster, shouting advice and suggestions so he could not hear any of it, and screamed over their voices. “Bring me those two brats dead, If you kill the two Quosters then I do not care one way or the other.”
“Not a Quoster nor those others are easy killings, my lord.”
“Fools,” Clebbster snapped. “kill the empole and empola – the others too if you wish it. But I need the key and I need the knife.”
Hide & Seek Page 33