Hide & Seek

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  Staring, open-mouthed, the old man answered with a gulp, then said, “So I am now legally emperor?”

  “What?” screeched Alice. “Her Royal Highness Messina is empress. She was anyway since she won the magic dual.”

  “But,” William cleared his throat, “I was emperor before the Hazletts stole my title and usurped my crown. But if there are now no Hazletts left alive.”

  “Except myself, old man,” said Brewster from the corner. “And could fight for my inheritance if I wished. But I claim no crown and want no throne. You surrendered and have no claim to anything. Here we have Empress Messina, Empole Nathan and Empola Poppy.

  With his head in his hands, William fell silent, and looked at no one. Brewster pulled a face and marched back into the bedroom, slamming the door.

  “Your nasty son said you were dead,” Nathan said into the pause.

  “He was vile,” added Poppy, “and tried to kill us. He supported Clebbster. But he died too. Hexaconda squashed him flat.”

  “Dead?” William looked up, but clearly his eyes were still partially blind, and he saw very little.

  “It would seem you also supported Clebbster at the end,” sniffed Granny, looking around the kitchen door with a puff of white flour and a smudge of chocolate on her nose. “Until he pushed you out of the window.”

  “How do you know that?” William bit his lip, scratching the white fuzz on his unshaven chin.

  “Your delightful son told me,” said Nathan, “and he thought you dead.”

  Heaving himself up crossly and sitting straight, William wiped the blurred tears from his sore eyes. “I only did what I was forced to do. I feared for little Tansel’s life. Now she’s being looked after at a comfy house in Pickles. The man used to deliver milk, so he knew Tansel already. She’s safe. But it was a risk when Clebbster knew where she was.”

  Messina was marching backwards and forwards from door to window, hands clasped behind her back, but having to push the bewildered Alan out of the way, and nearly standing on one of the new kittens. Mouse was asleep, so now Mars Bar was supposed to be watching over them, but he was playing in the garden.

  Finally Messina stopped pacing and said, “And if I bring back your sight as best I can, and give you enough money to live quietly in Pickles near Tansel and Ninester and Ferdinand, will that satisfy you? Will you then permanently leave us alone?”

  “Humpf,” sniffed Poppy, “send him back to medieval London and he can marry Violet Crinford and live in her house. You’d both get on very well, I’m sure.”

  No one had expected it when suddenly William Octobr sprang out of the chair, waved both arms, and flashed a frown of such fury that he was almost unrecognisable. “I’m no pauper to be humiliated while I beg for charity,” he snarled, and for a moment Nathan thought he sounded like the tiger Trakken when Yaark had been controlling him.

  Nathan stared into William’s blurred eyes, and for the first time saw a clear hatred looking back at him. “You see me,” said Nathan softly. “I know you do. You don’t need your sight fixed. You’re not blind anymore.”

  “Your foolish ideas are of no interest to me,” spat the old man. “Keep quiet until you are called. I speak to Messina, and I tell you this. You are no empress here, and never will be. William is the elder, the clan leader, and the only remaining Octobr with the right to rule. It was not you, fraud, who won the magical trial, it was Altabella, and if I wish I may decide to make her my partner and allow her to rule at my side.”

  Granny, having gone back to work in the kitchen, now flounced back in, bent with laughter. ‘Are you mad?” she asked. “To think I’d accept you? Not in any way, not as long as I live,” she said. “I want no husband, and if I do one day take someone, it will be my friend Sherdam. You – William the crazed – have been given absurd ideas by your son.”

  “Or by Yaark,” said Nathan suddenly.

  Everyone turning, starred at Granny, William and Nathan.

  “Yaark?” said Granny. “Of course. I should have realised. So we have the other monster maniac in our midst. Yaark the crazed. We thought we had you in a glass jar. Well, this is not much different.”

  Bayldon laughed as well. “William isn’t much different to a glass jar half full of rubbish. How true.”

  The glitter in William’s eyes seemed to flicker with fire. “Now Clebbster is gone, nothing stands in my way. Yet you have done me the favour of eliminating the Hazlett fool, and for that I may let you live. “

  Poppy stamping her foot, yelled, “You’re not even the Warden of the Key anymore. Not that you ever really were. I have the key and I’m the warden and if we could kill Clebbster, than we can kill you too.” Her peacock feathers, which she had forgotten to take off, were flexing and twirling, and Clebbster’s cane, which was now resting against the arm of the chair were she had originally been sitting, was standing very straight, its handle vibrating.

  Yaark snapped back, “Idiot girl. You can’t even touch me.”

  “But I certainly can touch you,” Poppy shouted back and pushed at the old man so he stumbled backwards.”

  Granny had slipped outside, unseen and unheard she hurried into the garden, raised both her arms and started whispering. Nathan could see her through the window, but William had his back to the sunshine and saw nothing. He was furious at having been pushed. Sitting again on the cushioned chair, he stretched out his legs, stuck his hands over the chair arms, and looked at Poppy. “Be off,” he said through his teeth.

  Immediately Poppy was flown off her feet, hit her head on the ceiling and stayed there, floating, apparently unconscious, on her back directly over Nathan. Nathan jumped up. “Leave her alone,” he yelled. “Let her down.”

  Messina turned, muttered one word, and Poppy floated back down. She woke and rubbed her head. “What did you do?”

  “Showing off his childish magic,” said her mother crossly. “Now, if you want another magical Duel, old man, I am ready.”

  “Which one of us?” asked William with a smug grin, and as he sat smiling, four glittering smudges of coloured brilliance sprang from his curled hair.

  “Four?” gasped Sherdam, who had come last into the room.

  Four small stars danced up into the shadows beneath the ceiling, then zooming around each other as though playing a game. As they flew, their colours flashed like fireworks. The largest was a bright blue, and everyone knew this for Yaark. But three others, although smaller, were equally brilliant. One was black, but shimmered like dark onyx. Another was candy pink, another flashing green. Then, now balancing on old William’s nose, was a tiny grey star, jumping up and down.

  It spoke in a small baby’s voice. “I’m having lots of fun. My first time away from the meteor. I can kill, I can kill, I love to kill. My name’s Bumup. Who shall I kill first?”

  Horrified at what was happening now, everyone except Bayldon and Poppy sat staring. William himself now slumped over the arm of the chair, his eyes closed. It seemed that without the power of the stars, he was too weak even to sit up.

  Bayldon held a fly swat and marched around the room trying to reach the stars, but they quickly flitted away. Poppy jumped onto the couch, and shouted up, “You’re disgusting. All of you. I’m calling Passlerm He knows how to get rid of you.” And she started yelling, “Meteor K.F. 869 and Passlerump. Wherever you are. Come quickly.”

  Messina and Sherdam both stood very still, fixed in concentration, their upraised hands pointing at Yaark. As yet they were less interested in the others. Messina’s mouth moved but the spell remained silent, but Sherdam chanted, “Agoebatha, agoremttaba. Stella di smblanka, astemia, brastemia, orenkalembia.”

  But the stars seemed to find this a game, darting and blinking. The black star twisted its arms with Yaark’s, as though they danced together.

  “It’s not a game,” shrieked Poppy.

  Nathan was hoping that outside Granny was using her best magic either to call the meteor, or to destroy the stars herself.

  As
the noise mounted, Brewster poked his long nose around the bedroom door, and reeled back, astonished. Alice, who had been crouching behind the couch, looked up, whispering, “Oh, Brewster, can you do something?” It’s Yaark and even more stars. They seem to be playing but I’m sure they want to kill us.”

  Brewster clapped both his hands with a loud and echoing bang and shouted, “Nonelites. Stars of the meteor, back to your prison.”

  The stars laughed at him. Messina stood beside him, bringing Sherdam with her. “Now,” she said, “the three of us together. The domination of the last levels, eighth and ninth.”

  They nodded, and together all three raised their arms, shouting, “Illiam. Endelevelekarbinucka.”

  It was the greatest level of magic Sherdam had ever attempted, and his face was white as he called.

  Something happened, although not as much as they had hoped. With a high pitched wail, almost as though trying to copy the peacocks, the smallest star, pale grey with only a faint flicker, plummeted to the floor where it lay on the rug, writhing and twisting, and then quickly lay still. Nathan, although both disgusted and frightened, walked over and gave it a small kick. It did not move, so he picked it up with the tips of his fingers. It felt gritty and hot, and scalded his fingers just a little. So he walked into the kitchen, found one of Granny’s empty glass jars, filled it with cold water, and dropped the grey star inside, screwing on the lid very tightly. Then he carried it back into the living room Messina and Sherdam were once again attempting magic, but Brewster was helping Poppy from the ground where she had fallen. Bayldon was now trying to squirt the stars with a spray bottle of glass cleaner, and Alice and Alfie were discussing what on earth they could do to help. Granny was still outside.

  Nathan told Poppy, “I have the grey one in a jar. I think it’s dead.”

  Poppy hurried over to her mother. “That special spell you said was eighth level or something. Try it again. It killed the grey one.”

  “I wish Passleram would come,” muttered Sherdam.

  Brewster stood once again with Messina and Sherdam, raised their arms and spoke in unison, with voices that echoed and roared up to the ceiling where the stars were dancing. “Illiam. Endelevelekarbinucka.”

  The pink star twisted and tumbled, squawking like an injured bird. It lay on the rug, turning and rolling as though unable to rise. Bayldon put his foot down hard, stamping on it. It immediately lay still. “Dead,” said Bayldon gruffly. “Good. Just two more to go.”

  Nathan bent down and gingerly picked it up. It hung limp in his grasp, and he hurried into the kitchen and thrust it into the same glass jar of cold water. Both those stars now seemed without life. Granny came running in from outside, her face red with effort, and her hands trembling. “I have tried all I know,” she said, her voice cracking. “I have used the tenth level of magic to destroy these creatures. I have called and called to Passleram I have called on the other stars who rule the meteors and also wish to destroy Yaark. But I believe we have been blocked. My strongest magic does not work.”

  “Here,” Nathan showed her the jar, and explained what had happened.

  “Right,” she said, “come with me.”

  Hoping she had an idea, Nathan ran behind her back into the living room. But it was a lot worse than he had hoped. Now the old man William Octobr lay flat on the carpet, and he appeared to be dead. Poppy lay in a crumpled heap beneath one window, and Alfie was doubled over the back of a chair, his head and ears bleeding. Sherdam, eyes closed, was on his back by the bedroom door.

  The two remaining stars were circling high, making a faint buzzing sound that seemed almost painful as it thrust itself inside their heads.

  “Ouch,” Nathan clamped his hands over his ears. Messina was ignoring the noise, and was reciting the same spell over and over. Brewster was beside her, repeating her words. But clearly he was weak still from his father’s curse and was not as strong as usual. Shaking his head to get rid of the buzzing pain, Nathan looked around desperately. Shooting from both stars were flashing daggers of light and when these cracked into someone, that person fell unconscious. They looked dead. Nathan was terrified that one of the stars had killed Poppy.

  A huge buzzing flash spun to Bayldon’s forehead, and with a hoarse groan, he fell to the carpet, still clutching the spray bottle. He did not move.

  Nathan rushed first to him and then to Poppy, but they did not respond when he called or held them. He looked back. Now Alice, who had been crying over Alfie’s prone body, fell stunned by another burning stab, and collapsed. Almost immediately Brewster twisted up into the air, and fell with a great bang, the floor vibrating. But as he closed his eyes, he yelled, “Cane, a – aah,” and closed his eyes in absolute silence.

  Only his mother and grandmother remained. In final frantic hope, both were chanting the magic to kill the incubi. Yet another almighty burst of flaming light fell on Messina’s head, and knocked her immediately into a deep faint.

  All around the room, his friends and family lay sprawled, dead or dying. Granny clutched at Nathan’s arm. Stay safe, my dearest boy,” she whispered. “Now, what did Brewster say at the end?”

  “I don’t know,” whispered Nathan, half in tears. “K – A. Is that another meteor?”

  Yaark descended. He had swelled, now enormous, his flashing blue star-arms like hideous pincers or serrated swords. Nathan was clutching his knife, but it lay dull in his hand. “Your last moments, humans,” called Yaark, his voice deep and sarcastic. “Be ready to meet your deaths. It will be slow and not be without pain.”

  “Ah, the agony,” said the black star, coming down to send tiny flashes of stinging light into Granny and Nathan’s faces. These were minute flashes, but the stinging pain was huge. Nathan nearly fell. “I am Flibweed the mighty and I loathe all humans. I shall burn you both alive. When you scream enough, I shall let you die.”

  Nathan, struggling with the burning stings all over his face, was biting his lip, and trying not to cry out. But something more important had occurred to him. Brewster had not been talking about a meteor. He had said, “Cane.”

  Now that was what he was looking for. He saw Granny bending over, almost ready to fall. Her face was swollen with huge purple blisters, and she gulped blood. Her hands and legs were shaking. He saw her end so close, reached over and grabbed Clebbster’s cane which Poppy had brought back. As he held it, he felt the wooden bird come alive in his hand. It took only three seconds, and he knew it was ready to obey him. He spoke under his breath, “Peacock Hollax, beat down one of those stars. Whichever you can reach. Beat it to death.”

  With a burst of immense energy, the long black stick flew from Nathan’s hand, the handle now alive in colour, its wings spread. It rose in a swirl and thwacked the brilliant black star three times. With a choking sound, the star tried to escape but the cane was as quick, and beat and beat again. With a moan, it fell.

  Lying close to the kitchen door, Flibweed rolled and kicked, resisting death. Nathan tried to stamp on it as his father had done, but as he stamped, it moved away. It seemed crippled but alive, its shining arms crooked. But when Nathan bent to pick it up, it stabbed his thumb and a terrible pain shot up his arm, making him fall back. He coughed, and saw he was coughing blood. But then Granny looked up and began to speak – yet so fast that Nathan couldn’t understand her. When he realised she was not speaking to him, he looked around.

  The kitchen door had opened. On its many legs and hands, wobbling like a red jelly with a platter of cakes balanced on its back, Jellywop trotted into the room.

  Granny said one more word. “Now.”

  And Jellywop sank down at once, squashing Flibweed flat beneath it and then did not move. The platter of cakes still sat on the red wobbly back.

  Granny sank down almost next to Jellywop. Although she had avoided all the stabs of firelight, she was badly hurt and utterly exhausted.

  Nathan called back the cane to his hand. It came at once, but tapped impatiently on the floor, clearly wis
hing to attack the last star. Yaark was furious. The star looked around for somebody to enter, but there was now only Nathan. Yaark came close. “I took your pathetic head once,” said Yaark with a snarl of temper. “You weren’t worth it. You were useless, frightened, and a coward. But shall I take you again now? I may eat you entirely and leave only the miserable shell.”

  Looking around at his friends and family all looking, possibly dead, around him, Nathan swung out with the cane. The swing of the heavy stick came close, but Yaark darted out of the way, flashing back with a huge jab of streaming light. Nathan also dodged. The second flash took him by surprise, but the cane caught it and batted it away like a cricket ball. “You’ll never get inside my head again,” Nathan shouted. “I am the Lord of Clarr. I hold the Knife of Clarr and the Cane of Hollax.”

  Yaark laughed. It sounded like spitting. “And I am Yaark, mighty source of all power, who will be Emperor of all Lashtang, Clarr, Sparkan and every meteor.”

  A stunning pain like an arrow aflame pierced the top of Nathan’s skull, and he tumbled to the ground beside Granny. Feeling his crashing tumble, Granny pulled herself onto her elbows, and whispered, “Nat, my dearest. Are you alright?”

  “My head,” Nathan groaned, his hand on his hair. Yaark was laughing again. The crackle was echoing in his ears along with the pain. And then the buzz grew louder. He had become almost accustomed to the original sound, but now it nearly burst his eardrums.

  “I call on the cane of Hollax,” he shouted in desperation. “Help me.”

  Granny helped Nathan up. She helped him to the nearest chair, ignoring the splashes and stabs of burning light that continued, leaping from each of Yaark’s six arms. At first he sank into the depths of the chair, but that was too easy and he knew he might possibly collapse or even faint. Granny was leaning over to pick up the peacock cane, She passed it to Nathan and he forced himself to sit up. Then he remembered something else.

  He had dropped his knife, but it lay not far from his feet and he reached down and picked it up. Then he raised his hands. He didn’t expect anything wonderful. He knew only a little magic of the first and second level, whereas his mother and grandmother had been sending out magic of the eighth and ninth level, and even that had not maimed the star. But there was nothing else he could do, and he had to try something.