“Stop!” screamed Sophie. “Stop!”
“Why?” yelled Edward. After all, what was there to cry out about? Nothing – except (of course) for the sheer fun of things! Yet Sophie’s scream had not been a good-fun cry.
“I’ll stop once we’re over the next ridge,” Bonniface shouted back over his shoulder. “We’ll have a bit of a breather, and a cup of tea.”
“No! Now! Stop now!” Sophie screamed again. “Later will be too late.”
“In a minute,” Corona promised her, shouting too.
But Sophie unbuckled her seatbelt and sprang to her feet. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she leaped off the trailer of the blue skiddoo, aiming herself as well as she could for what looked like a deep drift of soft snow. The two skiddoos shot onwards for a few yards, almost banging into one another, then stopped untidily. And as Sophie, struggling and flapping like a confused penguin, managed to sit herself up again, she saw her father leaping out of the red skiddoo, racing back towards her, waving his ice axe and wearing an expression she had never seen on his face before – for Bonniface, the bravest of all Antarctic explorers, was frightened. And he was frightened for her.
“Sophie! Sophie!” he was shouting in panic.
“I’m OK,” she called, tottering to her feet. Anyone could see she was well and strong even if she was a bit wobbly So, by the time Bonniface reached her, he had changed from being worried to being angry. The change from frightened to furious took him less than a second.
“How dare you jump out of the skiddoo!” he shouted. “How dare you disobey orders? That’s the Antarctic out there. You can’t fool around with it.”
“What a mad thing to do,” said Edward, struggling up behind Bonniface.
“Mad but brave!” added Corona, coming up last of all with Hotspur in her arms.
“Sorry sorry sorry!” said Sophie. “But I had to. You were going to go right past it.”
“Past what?” asked Bonniface, first staring out to sea, then at the snarling mouths in the steep cliff face, and even down a few snarling throats.
“Past the inlet we’re looking for. At least, I think so!” said Sophie.
“You think so,” said Edward indignantly. “You think so?” He didn’t want Sophie getting ideas before he did. Besides, her leap from the skiddoo had terrified him.
Bonniface, Edward and Corona stood side by side, looking at Sophie, looking at each other, then studying the ice face once more. There it was, plain and simple, reflecting snow, sky and sea, and shimmering with blue and silver. Somewhere directly under their mukluks, deep under ice and snow, Sophie thought she could hear the sea gurgling, just as if it were urging her on.
“All right then! Just where is this inlet of yours?” asked Bonniface at last, speaking in a particularly sarcastic voice. “Do show me! After all, you’ve brought us to a standstill… so do please show us exactly where, in your official opinion, this inlet we’re all longing to find might happen to be. Because, I confess, I can’t see a sign of it.” He turned his head from left to right and then back again. “Any inlets? No! Not one! Oh dear! Perhaps my goggles are reflecting the light in a funny way but…”
“Sophie, there isn’t an inlet,” said Edward.
“There must be,” declared Sophie. “There has to be. The pendant danced.”
“What do you mean, the pendant danced?” asked Corona. “What pendant?”
Sophie hesitated. The pendant was so much her own by now she felt rather shy about pulling it out into the open air. All the same, she scrabbled under several collars, found the bootlace string it hung from, then pulled it over her head and swung it in front of her father.
Bonniface’s mouth dropped open!
“Where did you find that?” he asked. “I thought it was lost forever.”
“What is it?” asked Corona and Edward in chorus, and Hotspur gave a small squawk like a penguin asking a question.
“I was tidying the big drawer of the upstairs chest,” said Sophie to Bonniface. “I found this right at the back of the drawer, and I liked it. I thought it would be all right if I had it. No one had worn it or worried about it for years and years.”
“It was one of the first Antarctic things I ever bought,” said Bonniface. “I was a boy – a there child – when I went to my first Antarctic New Year auction. It was just after Christmas, of course, and I had Christmas money. I couldn’t afford a sledge or a skiddoo back then, but I picked through a box of oddments and found that pendant.” Then he stopped, looking a bit sheepish, and scratched the hood of his survival jacket just as if it had been the top of his head.
“Where did it come from?” asked Corona rather sternly.
“Well, actually, the story was that a member of Cathcardo’s crew had brought it back with him,” admitted Bonniface looking around him. “That First Mate of his, Escher Black! Or so I was told. But I didn’t believe it. People make up all sorts of things when they’re trying to sell you something Anyhow, I bid for it and bought it and then, since it was precious, I hid it somewhere safe, but I forgot where I’d hidden it. Haven’t seen it since I was a boy.”
“As we came whizzing down the slope this pendant danced,” said Sophie. “It went hot and cold, it twisted and turned and spelled out something on my skin. It was really, truly trying to tell me something.”
Bonniface looked out to sea once more, then forwards, along the wide band of snow winding in under them. At last he looked at the cliff again. It snarled at him with its many mouths. He just didn’t know what to think, and when Bonniface didn’t know what to think he often he lost his temper.
“A dancing pendant doesn’t mean anything,” he cried. “It can’t mean anything. And anyone can see – anyone with eyes, that is – there is no inlet here.”
Saying this he took a mighty swing and struck the ice cliff with his ice axe.
There was a strange tinkling, sharp and fierce, yet somehow musical too. The whole ice cliff shattered like a great mirror. Shards of ice shot out around them, as if the Antarctic were bombarding them with spears. Corona tried to tuck Hotspur under her survival jacket. Flinging his arms over his head, Edward crouched down so that the spears shot harmlessly past him, while Bonniface simply rolled over backwards, pulling Sophie down with him.
Within a second or two things grew still once more. Silence took charge again, tucking quietness in around them. Bonniface, Corona, Edward, Sophie and Hotspur slowly picked themselves up, then stood like tiny, bright statues staring – staring into a sudden star-shaped space that had appeared right in the middle of the ice wall.
It was like looking through a broken window. Everyone could see that the cliff, for all its angry mouths, had been a more ice curtain. And there behind it lay a long narrow inlet. A tongue of sea licked upwards from under the ice and lapped softly at the edges of the melting land. The entry to this inlet was so narrow that Sophie could almost have jumped across it, particularly if she had had a trampoline as a launch pad, but beyond the entry the inlet widened out. And on the distant, dimly-lit slopes beyond, they could see strange white shapes waddling and weaving together.
“Ghosts!” exclaimed Bonniface. “It is – it must be – the Inlet of Ghosts.” But Hotspur pointed at the distant shapes in great excitement, squawked in penguin language and danced a Hotspur dance.
“Not ghosts! Penguins!” declared Corona. “It’s that long-lost, legendary colony of albino penguins. It must be.” Then, she took Hotspur’s mitted hands and they danced together – though very carefully, of course. (You have to be careful dancing in mukluks or you strain your upper-leg muscles). Meanwhile, the pendant, back around Sophie’s neck, jigged on the end of its string as if it had wanted to join in the fun. And then, at last, all its messages given for the moment, it hung still.
CHAPTER 25
Who Goes Next?
“I never dreamed…” Bonniface began. He looked over at Sophie. “I’m sorry, Sophie,” he said in a rare, humble voice. “It just goes to show that,
however much a man like me knows, he never quite knows everything.”
“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard you say,” cried Corona, staring through the star-shaped break in the ice cliff. “Oh, Bonniface, shall we… explore?”
“But we’ll have to break a bit more ice,” cried Edward. “Let’s do it!” And he grabbed the ice axe which Bonniface had let fall, and leaped at the cliff as if he were attacking an alien monster on Planet X. Once again the sharp, glassy tinkle of breaking ice mixed into the gurgle and gush of the sea, to make a peculiar Antarctic music. Within minutes, Edward’s darting and diving and cracking and crashing had turned the star into a wide doorway through which they could easily stroll.
“Bring torches!” commanded Bonniface quickly “Got them? Now listen, everybody! This could be dangerous, so watch me carefully.” For, though he was in a humble mood, he certainly did not want anyone sliding on ahead of him. (But all Antarctic explorers like to be the first ones to set foot anywhere.)
The inlet, it turned out, was really more of a long dim cave than an inlet. Once inside it, they all pushed up their snow goggles and found themselves wrapped in a silvery twilight. Walls of ice curved up over them but did not quite meet at the top, so that a serpent of sky – a friendly thread of blue – was reflected in a twin serpent of sea.
These blue serpents, the high one and the low one, kept them twisty company as they wound their way past penguin nests made of black stones. Penguin pairs guarded these nests, and in the distance, lines of white penguins, which did indeed look like parades of ghosts, waddled to the edges where the ice gave up and the sea began. Clustering together, they stared cautiously into the water, shuffling and shifting, until some brave penguin dived in. When this happened, all the other penguins leaned forward, watching anxiously in case a leopard seal or some other penguin-eater should grab the brave one. Then, when they were sure it was safe, the remaining penguins dived and disappeared.
“There must be a way out under the ice and rocks to the open sea,” said Corona. “Nesting penguins need to fill themselves with fish. Mind you, it must be restful for these particular birds to be in the shadow of the cave. Albino creatures don’t like bright light.”
The penguins did not take a great deal of notice of the explorers until Hotspur spoke out. But when he did, every penguin turned its head to stare at him, and those penguins that were not sitting on precious eggs began to waddle along beside the Sapwood party, escorting them through the inlet.
“It’s a true Antarctic welcome,” said Corona. “Just think! We’d never have found our way in if it hadn’t been for Sophie. And look at the respect these penguins feel for Hotspur! Bonniface, you are ten times lucky to have such talented children.”
“I know,” said Bonniface, “though I didn’t realise until this particular morning just how particularly lucky I was.” He hesitated, looking around him. “Don’t think I’m complaining, and of course it is fascinating to have found this place and these penguins, but…”
Corona laughed. “I know what you’re going to say,” she declared, “because I’ve been thinking it too. Something’s missing, isn’t it?”
And Corona, Edward and Sophie all cried together, “Where’s The Riddle?”
Hotspur, however, made a penguin noise, and immediately a whole chorus of penguin noises erupted from beside them, and from the very head of the inlet too. Narrowing his eyes, Bonniface peered into the silvery twilight. There, ahead of them, several penguins seemed to be clustering around something and pointing their beaks at it, though none of the explorers could make out exactly what was being pointed at.
Before anyone could stop him, Hotspur raced away, sliding over the ice towards those pointing penguins, all of whom spread their flippers in welcome, while letting out cries of welcome. It was over in a moment. The pointing penguins stopped pointing and stood back. Hotspur ran past them, and simply disappeared. And, at last, Sophie found she could make out a dark opening low in the wall at the end of the cave.
As the penguins cried out again, she found she could hear – that they could all hear – a chorus of echoes. There must be space on the other side of that opening, and from somewhere inside that space they could hear Hotspur shouting with wonder.
“It’ll be safer if I go first,” Bonniface said to Corona in rather a begging voice. “Besides, I’ve been waiting for this moment for years and years. And years!”
“Too late! Look at the kids!” cried Corona.
For Sophie and Edward were already wriggling after Hotspur, leaving the two adults to enjoy yet another argument. Corona looked around. The penguins were all watching them, but she did not care. She laughed, and flinging her arms around Bonniface, gave him a hug and a great big kiss.
“You next, you poor old thing,” she said. “I don’t care.”
“There’s plenty of room. Let’s go side by side,” whispered Bonniface.
CHAPTER 26
The Riddle at Last
Sophie could hardly believe it. She had slipped out into a cathedral of ice. There was no longer any serpent of sky winding above them or reflecting in the sea below. Indeed, there was no longer any sea. All the same, light was seeping into this cathedral through a maze of chinks and cracks and invisible tunnels in the high roof above them. As she stood there beside Edward and Hotspur they were all transformed from ordinary Antarctic explorers into blue ghosts, trembling with wonder.
And there, before them, was a great, glittering shape… Sophie stared at it frowning, for she found she was recognising it without really knowing what it was. It seemed like something carved by the Antarctic itself – an ice ship, with masts of ice and sails of ice. A railed gangplank, swollen with ice, climbed from cave floor to ship deck, part of the ship and part of the cave, as well.
“It’s The Riddle,” whispered Edward. “It must be.”
“The Riddle!” agreed Sophie, for as Edward spoke that name, the pendant was growing warm against her skin. It seemed to know it was coming home.
There was a push and a heave behind them, followed almost at once by a heave and a push. Corona and Bonniface slid in side by side, squeezing in as one explorer. As one explorer they leaped to their feet. There was silence again.
Bonniface sighed. “At last! At last! I feel I might shed tears – Antarctic tears.”
“Well, don’t!” said Sophie. “They’d only freeze on you.”
“I know that,” said Bonniface a little snappily. He didn’t want Sophie giving him good advice. “All right, everyone! Let’s go carefully…”
But Hotspur was already climbing, slipping and skidding as he went, and Edward was hurrying after him, holding out his hands protectively in case Hotspur skidded on the treacherous gangplank and toppled on to the ice below
“Hotspur really sounds like an Antarctic boy, doesn’t he?” called Sophie, following Edward. “No blackbirds or larks now! He’s making penguin noises all the time.”
“Oh, Dad! Corona!” cried Edward, stepping on to the deck. “Come up quickly! It’s amazing!”
Somewhere behind them in the big cave the penguins set up a great cackling But the Sapwoods and Corona were all much too filled with Riddle astonishment to take any notice. Which (as it happened) was rather a pity. The penguins were trying to warn them of something.
CHAPTER 27
Villains Can’t Trust Other Villains
The black helicopter came thumping down on the beach in front of the Inlet of Ghosts, now easily seen behind the great break in the ice wall. The Tambo brothers and Rancid Swarthy stared into the silver twilight trying to make out the end of the inlet. They could see the blue serpents of sky and sea, one above and one below. They could see the white shapes of the ghostly penguins who immediately set up a great chorus of alarm.
“What’s in there?” Whizzy asked, being careful not to look too closely at Rancid. He was trying not to notice the gun that Rancid was now carrying with him.
“Something that needs to be exploded,�
� suggested Crambo eagerly, and he looked at Rancid hopefully. Crambo was not impressed with the gun – not in the least.
“No exploding,” said Rancid quickly. “At least, not until I say so. Now, listen carefully. I shall follow Bonniface Sapwood in there and check things out. Don’t do anything noisy or rash or you won’t get paid. Just enjoy a nice, restful five minutes, drinking in the beauties of the Antarctic. I won’t be long. And when I come out again, you can have a real treat, because I will almost certainly want a dramatic explosion.”
A blissful expression settled over Crambo’s face.
“You do realise it will take more man one explosion to close this cave off, don’t you?” he said. “I’ll arrange for two or three of them.”
“Good man!” said Rancid heartily, looking at Crambo with approval for the first time in that long Antarctic day. “But promise me faithfully you won’t set off any explosions until I tell you to.”
“I promise! I promise!” cried Crambo, though his eyes shifted in a most untrustworthy fashion.
Rancid gave his Number Two smile, causing Whizzy to gasp and shrink away.
“I’ll keep an eye on him, Sir,” he promised in a shivery voice.
“I am sure you will,” sighed Rancid Swarthy, “because, after all, if you should forget… if you should be even slightly careless… you won’t get paid, will you? And I know you dearly love money.”
“Oh, we do, Sir,” cried Whizzy and Crambo as one.
“Never forget how wonderful it is to be paid,” said Rancid. “Live in hope!”
Then he turned and set off into the cave, a sinister figure in his black survival jacket and black mukluks, not to mention the long, black gun balanced across his bent, black arm.
The Tambo brothers stared after him. “Crambo,” said Whizzy after a moment, “do you think we should trust Mr Swarthy? I mean, in view of what he was carrying under his arm?”
The Riddle of the Frozen Phantom Page 8