The Magic of Hobson Jobson

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The Magic of Hobson Jobson Page 12

by Soyna Owley


  ‘Earth scum,’ she said and swept away, her head high. Floyd shivered again. The Merrow woman’s hate was palpable; it radiated from her body in waves. But why? He hadn’t done anything to her.

  A loud gong sounded. A Merrow with a waxed moustache in a red smoking jacket bowed, and the curtains on the stage parted to reveal a chorus of costumed children. The music started and the Merrows in the audience began dancing, thumping their heavy feet, swaying and swigging sparkling liquid with gusto. The young voices rang out clearly.

  ‘Hail to the Merrows! The peerless race!’

  Floyd felt disgust sour his stomach. The Merrows were making the children entertain them under duress.

  Four burly Merrows carried a large metal box on their shoulders to the centre of the stage. Suddenly, a smell of roses filled the air. The chorus of children held hands, formed a circle around the box and danced, singing:

  ‘May the great Merrow might,

  Be brighter than light’

  They danced faster and faster, their voices sharp and clear.

  ‘The new prince will rise,

  Beauteous and wise,

  His blood will hold,

  Sea and sap ’tis told

  Hail to the Merrows! The peerless race!’

  Floyd’s neck prickled at their words. A new prince? What—or who—was in that box? The curtains closed and the singing slowly stopped. A small cart with seats and a canopy, not unlike a golf cart, rolled up.

  ‘Seat him,’ Phineas instructed.

  Floyd tried to shake the Merrow’s hand off his arm but found himself thrust into the passenger seat of the cart alongside Phineas. The cart lurched forward.

  They hurtled through a spiralling tunnel. It widened into a small cavern lined with phosphorescent algae, then narrowed just as quickly. They crossed a bridge over a still green lake with a cloud of large yellow flies buzzing above it. They whizzed by a series of mud buildings shaped like beehives and then entered a cold, rocky tunnel again. They must have travelled about five miles. Where on earth were they going? Floyd had lost his sense of direction with all the twists and turns. Were they going deeper into the mountain or coming out? He couldn’t tell. Suddenly, the cart swerved sharply. Floyd gasped as a gust of cold air carrying the smell of fish and salt assailed his nostrils. The booming sound of waves was unmistakable. They were approaching the ocean.

  The brittle sound of gravel under the wheels turned to a soft crunch as the cart rolled into open air and on to a white sandy beach. The bright day almost blinded him and he put his hands over his eyes.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he said, opening his eyes.

  The sun shone—a fresh golden pancake in a blue sky, reflecting light off the waves. A small distance away, a pair of dolphins suddenly burst through the surface, spraying glittering water into the air. The endless beach was pure white. How could such a beautiful day feel so bad?

  ‘Floyd?’

  Floyd stopped and turned around. He knew that voice well. His twin stood before him.

  17

  Century Forfeited

  Floyd staggered. His chest felt like it had been cleaved. He ran to Farook, grabbed him by his shoulders and hugged him. Farook smiled forlornly while the tears ran down his cheeks.

  ‘You’re okay!’ Floyd cried. ‘You’ve become so thin.’

  ‘I missed you. How’s Ma? And Papa?’ Farook asked softly.

  Floyd shrugged and wiped his tears with the back of his hand. ‘They’re … they’re worried. Everybody’s so worried. We thought—’ his voice caught in a sob.

  Phineas smiled. ‘Now, boys, reunion’s over. Boarding time.’

  Floyd put his hand on Farook’s forearm as he took in the sight from the beach.

  A gleaming white ship with fluttering gold sails broke the glittering expanse of water. The sign on its side read: The Nonpareil. A large flag with the sign of a tri-forked fish tail—the official insignia of the Merrows—fluttered breezily.

  The costumed children he had seen earlier in the cavern were silently filing into small boats, looking outlandish in their formal party clothes and gaudy make-up. Why were all these children being taken to the ship?

  Floyd put his arms around a groaning Farook as they were prodded on to a small rowboat. Farook doubled over and moaned. A sentry tied their hands and feet with a thin wire. Phineas Puddleton hopped in too.

  ‘Special envoy for the Foxwallahs,’ Phineas said, as the boat slid into the glassy water.

  ‘Why have you tied us up?’ Floyd demanded, his heart sinking.

  Phineas looked moodily into the water, his hand trailing in its green wetness. ‘We need to have you secure, Yaksha. We already made the mistake of taking your twin accidentally.’

  Floyd kicked the inside of the boat and looked around. He was going along helplessly. There was no one here who could help. The powder-blue sky was empty except for a few seagulls. No sign of Chutney. At least Farook was by his side. Floyd felt a wave of love as he looked at Farook. My bestie, I’ll get us out of this.

  Phineas cleared his throat. ‘When we discovered that we had kidnapped the wrong twin, we thought all was lost. Security was too tight. Your window was being watched constantly by those silly walking shrubs.’

  Floyd looked at him, astounded. The green figure outside his window the night Farook was kidnapped must have been a Ressuldar. They had been watching him, just as Balsam had said.

  ‘But destiny is stronger than all else. You were fated to come here, and you would have, one way or another,’ Phineas said.

  ‘My destiny is to help the Ressuldars,’ Floyd replied, his voice shaking. How dare these Merrows imply that he was part of their lives in any way?

  ‘We’re all part of the equation, Yaksha. As far as we’re concerned, you’re only ornamental. We simply require that you be present, so don’t get any grand ideas about being a hero. You’re here; now it’s up to us to make the circumstances turn in our favour.’

  ‘Why?’ Floyd asked.

  Phineas cleared his throat. ‘Up until a hundred years ago, we lived perfectly comfortable lives under the sea, mining its riches—coral and fish. We were minding our own business, making a tidy profit trading with the land dwellers. Then those silly Ressuldars came to us spouting nonsense about our harvesting methods ruining their land. They were ballistic about worthless creatures like river porpoises becoming extinct,’ Phineas sneered. ‘We told them their information was flawed, we showed them proof, but they insisted Durjipore was sinking and was doomed. They offered to do the cleaning, which would take one hundred years, while we lived on land. Since the clean-up would replenish the coral and fish, we agreed. Fine with us, we said to those fiddling ferns. We signed a treaty saying we’d return to the ocean in a hundred years.’

  ‘But now the hundred years are up. So why don’t you go back to your luxurious lives under the sea?’ Floyd said.

  ‘Not so fast, Yaksha,’ Phineas continued. ‘We had evolved. Our bodies adapted to life on land. We discovered the treasures of rainforests and the pleasures of underwater mining. Of course, the Ressuldars complain that these trade practices are also ruining the earth. They claim that all sorts of species have invaded Durjipore. What absolute poppycock!’

  ‘But the seas are so vast. Why do you need to conquer land?’

  Phineas laughed. ‘That, my naive little friend, is not a question for us, but for the ages. Ask yourself about all those occasions when you’ve wanted more than you needed.’

  The waves slapped against the side of the boat, rocking it softly as it moved closer to the great white ship.

  ‘But didn’t you have to return to the sea? Wasn’t there a treaty?’ Floyd wondered aloud.

  ‘An old law of the land states that any treaty made in Durjipore between land and sea will be null and void if a sacrifice is made at the time of the solar eclipse.’

  ‘Sacrifice?’ Floyd felt his blood chill. ‘What kind of sacrifice?’

  ‘Oh Yaksha, we know you read the poi
nter rock prophecy,’ Phineas said. ‘Remember? Century forfeited when day is night, observed by the Yaksha in full sight?’

  The waves rolled and tossed like a many-tongued monster impatient to swallow them.

  ‘Century forfeited? What does that mean? You’ve sacrificed a hundred years?’

  ‘A century doesn’t only mean a hundred years, Yaksha. In ancient Roman armies, a century referred to a group of hundred soldiers. We have a hundred young soldiers here.’

  Floyd’s stomach clenched and the bile rose to his throat as the truth dawned on him. ‘You’re going to sacrifice the children you kidnapped?’

  ‘Your twin is the hundredth child. You will watch your brother die,’ Phineas said with a placid smile, like he was discussing the Sunday cricket match. Floyd looked at the Merrow, his heart collapsing.

  ‘The solar eclipse,’ Floyd said, trembling with rage. It all made sense. He had to be present. They had lured him here. To watch Farook and the others die.

  ‘You can’t do this,’ Floyd protested.

  ‘Aha. That’s what the Ressuldars thought too,’ Phineas said, sitting erect. ‘They thought we would be weak like them. You must understand. We are not callous, Yaksha. The Merrow community will be eternally grateful to these little cherubs who will give up their souls, somewhat willingly, we hope.’

  Floyd kicked the boat uselessly.

  Phineas ignored him, consulted his pocket watch and pointed at the sky. ‘The time has come.’

  The big Merrow ship loomed close. It was made entirely of unblemished white marble and floated austerely on the calm waters.

  Floyd shifted in the hard wooden seat. The sky turned a deep blue and the sun looked like an orange that had been nibbled at the edges.

  His thoughts broke as three large prongs descended above them and picked up their boat. Floyd ducked as it jerked and swayed. They thudded on to the ship deck. There was no mistaking it. It was the same ship as in his dream—the night Farook had disappeared.

  18

  Shaitana

  On the stony deck of the Merrow ship, guards brandished their spears at the cowering children. Some children cried softly and others simply looked resigned.

  On one side, a wooden plank about six feet in length stretched ominously over the deep water. A sentry prodded a spear into Farook’s back, and he staggered without protest. Floyd shook with rage; they had destroyed Farook’s spirit.

  ‘Leave him alone!’ Floyd shouted.

  The Merrow swung wildly, hitting Floyd’s jaw and splitting his lip. Warm gummy blood spilled down the front of his cloak.

  ‘Silence,’ the Merrow snarled at Floyd, pushing him through a dark corridor and into a small room with a porthole. Farook was left behind.

  The Merrow who had hit him had a nasty smile on his face as he shackled Floyd’s hands and feet in iron cuffs that were at least half as heavy as Floyd himself. At least they weren’t chains and a ball, thought Floyd. The door slammed shut behind him and the deadbolt crashed into place. With a loud sputter, the boat lurched. Floyd nursed his throbbing lip. His head was spinning and he felt weak from thirst and hunger. The green water outside swayed and rolled, heavy as oil.

  The cabin was a dull grey and had words carved on one wall.

  Supremacy will be our right.

  Floyd tried to remember the words from the pointer rock prophecy. He turned the words over again in his head.

  But if, of his accord and sight,

  The Yaksha should decide to fight

  That part wasn’t a problem. What could deter him from wanting to fight the Merrows?

  And in the water, he puts light,

  The contending race will lose its might.

  That light in the water. How could one possibly get light in the water during a solar eclipse? The sun was out, but not as fierce as a few minutes ago. In the distance, Chandi Mountain glowed. The wind whistled through the porthole and stirred the waves into moody opacity. Long algae with fronds thickened the water.

  Something flashed by the porthole. Floyd pressed his nose to the glass and almost yelled. A brown face gazed back at him. It was a flying Ridgeback, his Chutney, still wearing his collar, wings flapping. Floyd felt relief wash over him. Chutney had come to save him, to save them!

  ‘Chutney, get the other dogs,’ he yelled. Chutney woofed, flapped his wings and disappeared.

  The deadbolt crashed off the door as it creaked open. Floyd thought he would pass out. In front of him stood a terrifyingly tall Merrow woman.

  It was she—there was no mistaking it. It was like reading about someone, seeing their pictures, watching them in a movie and then finally meeting them.

  He was face-to-face with the Merrow woman of his visions. And she looked even more deadly in person. Her white dreadlocks brushed her ankles. Her scaly skin gleamed dully and her fin-like ears twitched. She wore a shimmering silver robe, and on her head was a small diamond-encrusted tiara that threw out rainbows in the dim light of the room. A brilliant purple coat swirled around her. She smiled slowly, revealing three rows of sharp, shiny, pointy teeth. Her head bobbed delicately, making her look slightly deranged.

  Floyd stood up, clenching his fists, his heart hammering. His knees felt decidedly unsteady and he gripped the wall behind him.

  ‘Yaksha,’ she said with a hissing sound, and Floyd thought he would pass out. Her white tongue flickered between her red lips. She tossed her head back and made odd wringing movements with her wrists.

  Floyd buckled to the floor. His heart hammered its own tune. Avoid. Eye. Contact. Avoid. Eye. Contact.

  ‘You will look at me,’ she said in that strange hissing tone.

  Floyd raised his face and lowered it again. How could he look into that unearthly terrifying face?

  She glided up to him until he was looking at the hem of her sparkling gown. To his horror, a hooked tail swished out and went right back in.

  He forced himself to look at her, choking down the bile that was rising in his throat. She peered into his face, squinting her silver eyes, which looked like cracked marbles. Satisfied, she raised her head.

  ‘You are very important to us,’ she said, smiling again. Floyd felt like a snake had crawled up his spine and was coiling around his neck.

  ‘You’re going to kill people who have done nothing to you,’ he replied, his voice shaking.

  Shaitana looked at Floyd, frowning, her fin-like ears twitching. Then her expression cleared and she grimaced. ‘Ah, I understand. You speak of these young lives that will be forfeited. But let me assure you—they are important. They will help us.’

  ‘Why are their lives any less precious than yours?’ Floyd said, sounding braver than he felt.

  ‘These are matters of great political significance for people of high-ranking importance, involving the fate of countries and the world.’ She dismissed him with a flick of her wrist.

  Floyd shook his head. ‘You’re killing people. And you’re talking about it as if it’s a wonderful thing.’

  Shaitana raised her shoulders. ‘I had hopes that you, a Yaksha, would understand, but clearly you will not rise above your common lineage.’ She turned her back to him and paced the room. ‘This sacrifice is more personal to me. You will see, Yaksha, and very soon, you will understand. And if you don’t, I expect only that you cooperate.’

  Floyd stood shaking. He felt utterly incompetent. ‘And if I don’t?’ he asked.

  ‘Don’t be rash, Yaksha. We have something for you. Something that you want very badly,’ Shaitana hissed, and put her hand in her pocket. She pulled out a shimmering vial of pink powder. ‘For Maya.’ Shaitana’s eyes flicked over him. Floyd stood stunned. How dare this evil Merrow use Ma’s name? What could she possibly offer him? He tried to suppress the image of Ma rocking in front of her shrine, slowly going mad.

  Floyd glared at her. ‘What is it?’ he said, his curiosity aroused.

  Shaitana smiled at him, her voice suddenly gentle.

  ‘What you wanted to go to
the Souks for, but didn’t quite make it,’ Shaitana said. ‘Ninipuri. One pinch of this in your Ma’s morning glass of milk, and her head will start to clear. In three days, she will be your sweet, caring mother again, stronger than ever.’

  Floyd’s heart stood still. Ninipuri. The same unattainable medicine the doctor had talked of. The one he had almost died trying to get from the Tannycatch. This Merrow rolled it so easily between her bony carbuncle-crusted fingers.

  ‘Never again will your Ma worry about anything. Think, Yaksha—you’d be her only son. Look forward. In time, you will forget all this.’

  Oh how evil she was, inching towards him, each word as sweet as dew and as subtle as poison, until Floyd felt his mind go numb.

  She knew. This clever, diabolical Merrow knew he wanted Ma to get well more than anything else in the world. Oh, how wicked she was. Floyd felt nausea grip his stomach.

  ‘Why do you bloody care about my mum now?’ he shouted.

  Shaitana faltered, but didn’t change her expression. ‘Very well, Yaksha. Once your job is finished and you’re ready to return home, this will be yours,’ she said, putting the vial back in her pocket. She clapped her hands and the door opened. Two burly Merrows entered and grabbed each of Floyd’s arms.

  Floyd was dragged behind Shaitana down the corridor and on to the deck. The sun was a full shining globe, but there was a mild wind blowing over the sea. At the end of the deck, the kidnapped children crowded behind three hulking Merrows.

  Shaitana walked to the centre of the deck and the murmurs quieted. She raised her arms and the Merrows followed, their foreheads glittering with ceremonial mica. More Merrows gathered on the marble deck, where sparkling purple powder had been sprinkled into strange and intricate designs. There were carvings on the deck, with patterns of the solar eclipse and the different positions of the planets. They had been planning this for a long time.

  Chutney, wherever you are, hurry, Floyd thought.

  The water surrounding the ship seemed bewitched, like oil had been poured on it. Algae clumped on the periphery of the glassy circle of water, through which a whole city made of white stone sparkled on the ocean floor.

 

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