Blind Man's Buff

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  Gradually, day after day, they drew closer to the marshes. Here Ferdinand hopped down and called up a rather large dark scorpion. “My dearest fiancé, the beautiful Sorazella.”

  The scorpion waved her tail. She was followed by several tiny crabs, living within the marshy banks of the shallow and spreading pond-land. There were also tiny fish, which could not leave the water, but they answered Ferdinand and promised to search all the waterways for piles of any secret hoard.

  Once over the wetlands, the muster had gathered so many to the call, they seemed to waver across miles of grassy slopes, both wet and dry. Finally they approached the wide silver shimmer of the River Rass which wound down towards Peganda, and here everyone stopped, and made camp.

  “This,” called Nathan, “is where we explain everything, and then we separate to search across the whole of Lashtang.”

  The food they had brought with them had now run out, but they had been able to eat fruit and berries, nuts and lettuce from the countryside as they passed. Ferdinand also hunted for everyone, bringing up small fish which he promised were real and not bewitched people. They built a little fire on the river bank, filled their water bottles, ate fish roasted in the fire’s embers, fruit and salad, and began to explain exactly what they were looking for.

  “I think it will be a massive collection,” said Nathan, smiling around at the siege of tiny creatures spread all about him. Some sat patiently, others twitched and hopped, and some fell asleep. A ladybird kept flying up and down, because she said it helped her to hear better, and a little pink nosed field mouse came and cuddled next to his ankle. “The weapons will be like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Most will be made of steel and plastic and will have a funny artificial smell you’re not used to. There will be boxes of ammunition, and even bigger boxes with different sorts of guns in. I can’t really guess what will be there, but I’m sure there’ll be hundreds of them. They’ve been hidden by Braxton and his accomplices, so they are very secret and could be anywhere. But they’ve been surrounded by magic, and you’ll be able to smell that as well.”

  Ferdinand hopped down from Nathan’s shoulder and regarded his new army. “What brave soldiers you all are,” he said. “The illustrious lord is so proud of you all, and when he cuts the Eternal Chain, he will give you great rewards.”

  “If we can find and destroy these dreadful killing machines within a week or two at most,” added Nathan, “then you will have saved thousands and thousands of lives, including your own. Her illustrious majesty the Empress Messina will arrange the destruction of the weapons, but although many of us have tried to find them, so far this has been impossible. They must be well hidden.”

  “I can crawl into caves and crannies,” said Dimples, still cradled on Poppy’s shoulder.

  “If there’s a strange smell, I’ll smell it out, said a tiny brown lizard in a very deep voice.

  “And I,” said a shy childish voice, can burrow underground and make tunnels. My lovely clever mother Mavis taught me how.” Everyone looked around at once, and saw a very spiky echidna sitting amongst all the other creatures. “I’m not a puggle anymore,” said the echidna. “I’m almost grown-up.”

  “It’s great to see you again,” said Alice, bending down and patting its long thin nose. “How’s your mother?”

  “Doing very well,” said the puggle. “But she’s asleep back at the cottage. My name is Jingle and my sister Twiggle is just over there. We wanted to join the muster.”

  “Me too,” “Me too,” “Me too,” called everyone and there were so many voices, Nathan felt his army was better than Henry Tudor’s at Bosworth.

  Everyone curled up for the night, sleeping soundly as the moons once again rose, clasped each other in one double embrace, and then moved on to the glorious golden dawn. Waking to the vibrant and magnificent daybreak, there was a scuffle and scamper as animals groomed themselves, found some water to drink, stretched, waved antennae goodbye to each other, and hurried off to begin their hunt.

  Dimples had crept close to Poppy’s cheek for the night, and her fuzzy back had tickled so much that Poppy had slept very badly, but she did not complain. She had never thought herself at all pretty, and had sometimes been bullied for her streaky hair, and for being a little plump. The kids in school had called her fat and weird and ugly, so she had been very sympathetic towards Dimples, and was quite happy to make friends with a tarantula.

  Finally only Nathan, Alfie, John, Alice, Peter, Sam, Poppy and Ferdinand and Hermes were left, sitting on the grass next to the ashes of their little fire. They all stood a moment, almost unable to believe their own success, and rather sorry to be suddenly left alone without all the hundreds of friends.

  But we haven’t finished yet, my illustrious lords,” said Ferdinand, hopping back onto Nathan’s shoulder. “There is the whole Savanna of Valk. It is vast. We will find many to join us.”

  They had already been walking for some days and now they were tired. Nathan looked at the river streaming beside them. “That’s quite a fierce current,” he said. “How do we cross it?”

  “I shall take three at a time,” nodded Hermes. “But the trek will be harder going on the other side. Here were marshes, but the grass is now soft and warm. All the inhabitants are clearly seen. But the savanna is long grasses, seeds blowing in the wind, and no way of seeing what you are walking on. The animals hide and do not like to show themselves to people.”

  “I’m not stopping now,” said Nathan, although he would have loved to. “If we muster everyone that’s interested in joining us, not only will we be more likely to find the weapons, but we’ll have a larger army to fight with us in the end after I cut the Eternal Chain.”

  Poppy stared at the river. “I could swim that. I nearly swam the Mediterranean Sea.”

  “Show off,” muttered Nathan. “And don’t you dare risk it. You and Alice and Sam go with Hermes first time.”

  Hermes preened the tips of his wings and his first journey was completed in minutes. The river was wide, deep and fast, but the flight across to the opposite bank was brief. Finally, with the others waving from across the swirling current, there was only Nathan and John left to ferry. They were still in the air when it all went wrong.

  Above him, colours like a thunderclap of falling stripes, the hot air balloon hovered and then swooped lower. Its basket jiggled as two men peered out, bending over to point down and cackle and call.

  “Curly whirly Bumble-Bee-Head,” called one of the Hazlett twins. “Ready to ride your birdy into battle?”

  Looking up, Nathan glared. He spoke to Wagster, the one who still wore a top hat. “You’re sick and disgusting,” he accused. “You actually tried to eat someone. How could you do that. To try and eat my friend?”

  But it was Brewster who answered, calling down from the wobbling basket. “Ate the wrong one, didn’t he, Natty-Watty. Should have eaten you. I’m sure you’d make a nice sugary lunch.”

  “Wot you wants now?” demanded Alfie. “Leave us alone. We ain’t never done you no ruddy harm.”

  Hermes landed quietly on the other side of the river so Nathan and John climbed off, and stood staring up angrily. “And why do all of you keep turning into snakes?” Nathan demanded.

  “I reckon theys snakes wot sometimes turns into people,” said John. “Even as people, they doesn’t look like real ruddy people.”

  For once, Brewster seemed slightly offended. “I have never turned into a snake,” he said, frowning. “Not ever.”

  “But you got a snakey tongue,” John pointed out.

  It was Wagster who threw a handful of dagger flashes, magic like knives, which John ducked but Nathan caught against his shoulder. He whirled around. “That’s mean. It hurt.”

  “Poor little Nat,” chortled Brewster, “doesn’t even know how to jump out of the way. Bumble-Bee-Head wants his soft cuddly bed.”

  Poppy marched forwards with her hands clenched. “You’re both bullies,” she said. “And why did you bother asking
me some time ago if I’d help – ?”

  Brewster glared and raised a hand. Poppy’s mouth shut with a snap, and however hard she struggled, it would not open again. “Enough of that, rude little girl,” he said. “What is private remains private and never – blether – whether – clever – or feather!”

  Everyone stared at him, even Wagster. “Feather?”

  “It rhymes,” said Brewster with a shrug.

  “We don’t want the piggly little piggy-wiggy upset, do we?” added Wagster. The balloon landed with a bump and a bounce, almost squashing Poppy who still couldn’t speak. The twins both tumbled out, feet in the air and cackling as the balloon rose up and flew off without them. Brewster waved goodbye, and fell over laughing again. The great coloured stripes sailed off behind the clouds, the empty basket disappearing into the distance.

  “Well now,” Brewster said, “It’s time to solve a little problem. Friends and enemies, who is who and which is what. Better still, the time is when and now is best of all. So, little Bumble-Bee-Head, you’ve proved hard to get rid of, though many have tried. My dear brother nearly swallowed the wrong person, you see. We came to finish a job long started. But what a shame. Now it’s sadly timeful. Momentful. Finishful. A friendship is coming to the endful.”

  Nathan moved back a step. “Me?”

  “You,” said Wagster, between his teeth, and the long forked tongue flicked out. “The empole, and a destiny which must be finished before it rushes further into those dark tunnels of ignoble justice.”

  Shaking his head, confused, Nathan took another step back. “You want to – finish me? Take me prisoner? Kill me?” He stared at Wagster, then at Brewster. “You’ve both hurt me before,” he said, looking more and more bewildered. “You’ve both done horrible things to us all. But you’ve done good things too. I mean,” and he turned to Brewster, “you started it all off and I thought that was bad, but it turned out good. Really wonderful. And I saved your life and you’ve helped me more than once. And now you really mean to get rid of me – forever?”

  Slowly both twins stretched upwards, standing very tall, both glaring at Nathan. It seemed that no one had seen their real height before, and they kept on growing, upwards and upwards until they were mighty black twigs, looming over everyone else. Both hunched their shoulders, their arms crooked and reaching out like mighty claws. Moving together they stepped towards Nathan. He seemed unable to move out of their way.

  “Wot’s you doing?” John yelled, running towards the Hazletts. “That’s Nat. You can’t do nuffing nasty to our Nat.”

  “Stop,” screamed Alice. “Eat me then. Leave Nat alone. He’s the empole.”

  ‘And that’s the itsy-bity pain, it is,” Brewster said, no longer cackling but speaking in a low growl that made Alice shiver. “This is an empole which will do things we cannot allow. We have seen the portents. We have read the signs. Our father has given his orders. No more games. No more play-acting. This has to be – the end.”

  And as Brewster spoke, Wagster swooped. His claw hands raised like bat wings, he leapt. His leap from those long thin legs took him directly on top of Nathan, who fell beneath the force. Wagster bit, and Nathan’s neck began to bleed. Brewster then leapt, and they both bent their long sharp teeth to Nathan’s neck, bending over him. Still it seemed he could not move.

  But now everyone else, yelling, screaming, shouting and calling, rushed at the terrible black heap on the ground, lunging with swords, knives and rocks. Hermes, with a screech and a hiss, spread both wings and attacked. Even Ferdinand, horrified at what he saw, bounced into the awful mound, spitting and punching.

  Poppy could still not speak, but she could run. In silence, she grabbed the knife she had hidden in her pocket, and skidded down the damp slope, thrusting the knifepoint hard into Wagster’s back.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Wagster’s scream was like the wail of an injured seagull and he trembled as if his bones had turned to jelly. His eyes were glazed and he rocked backwards and forwards, staring into space. The small hole in the back of his jacket was bleeding but he did not seem aware of it. He did not really seem aware of anything. His fingers shook and he sat shivering for some moments.

  Brewster snapped from his strange mood immediately. He rubbed his eyes and looked around at everyone. They stood close where they had rushed to save Nathan and had hauled Brewster away. Now they glared down, horrified.

  “Get out,” seethed Alfie. “You ain’t wanted here.”

  Brewster seemed confused. “Leave Lashtang? Tis my home, Alfie-walfy. Not yours. And what’s wrong. We were just talking. What was it? Did I do something?” He had the hiccups, and licked his lips, tasting the spice of the magic. His forked tongue flicked back into his mouth. “No harm done,” he said between hiccups. “Did we dance? Did I fart? I didn’t notice.”

  Nathan had struggled up, rubbing his neck. Trickles of blood oozed from four tiny holes. “You did this,” he pointed. “It was horrible. It hurt a lot. I think you wanted to kill me.”

  Brewster flushed deep pink. “Not me,” he said. “Do you mean it was my poor brother? Sometimes, you see, he can’t help what he does. But you can’t tell the difference between Waggy-Wagster, and Brewsy-Woozy.”

  No one was amused. Alice said, “It was both of you. Like monsters. You said Nat had to die.”

  Brewster pulled back, his hands now shaking as Wagster’s were. He rubbed the magic dust from his lips, smelling the proof. “Me? Like him?”

  “Both of you.”

  He stared at Poppy. “Can you help?” She pointed at her lips, trying to speak. Brewster realised the problem and lifted the middle finger of each hand. “Tell me,” he said. “You know how. You know what it is.”

  Her voice had been freed. “Does Gilden know?” she whispered.

  Brewster nodded. “He knows. You know.” He turned to Alice, his frown creasing up between his small blinking green eyes. “And perhaps the Lady Alice knows.”

  “It’s Yaark, isn’t it?” demanded Poppy, her voice growing stronger. “He gets inside you. That little star? It flits into your mouth, and then you’re him.”

  Everyone else was standing very still, amazed and troubled. Nathan said, “Yaark can do that? To anyone? To everyone?” Even two at a time?

  Brewster put his arm around his brother’s shoulders. Wagster, shaken, was sitting on the grass with his head in his hands. “You have to fight to keep him out. Once in, he can do it again. Easier and easier. My little brother can’t keep him out. But I can. I always did.” He sighed. “Until today.”

  Nathan was rubbing his neck, which still bled. Alice said, “That’s vile. I thought it was something like that. And the more magic someone has, the more Yaark can swallow.”

  “Gilden?”

  Brewster nodded. “Even – well – many others.”

  Poppy glared. “Even Clebbster?” And once again, Brewster nodded. “Then the Hazletts don’t rule Lashtang. Yaark does.”

  Brewster helped his brother up from the ground. Wagster was angry, and clapped for the balloon. “Time to go,” he said gruffly. “I won’t listen to this insulting rubbish.”

  “We rule,” Brewster said at once. “Our father rules. The great Clebbster Hazlett. But,” and he looked away, “not always. And,” he turned back, raising his voice, shouting, “never again through me. Hear me, star-man?”

  The balloon with its empty swinging basket had come back to ground, resting on the grass close to Brewster. He grabbed both Wagster’s arms and hauled him into the basket, almost throwing him in. Still weak and confused, Wagster sat within, both his nose and his two skinny knees peeping over the edge.

  Walking forwards, Poppy said, “So that’s what you want help with, getting Wagster free of Yaark? Or do you actually want to kill Yaark? He’s a monster.”

  “He’s a – succubus,” said Brewster. “You can’t kill a star-man. But I want my brother free.” He climbed into the balloon’s basket, wriggled into the remaining space, and pul
led on the rope to sail upwards. It took the wind and sailed high, disappearing into the thick clouds. They could see nothing except a wisp of colour high, high above, but Brewster’s voice drifted down. “Do the right thing and you’ll get the right thing back.”

  “You mean,” Nathan yelled up into the sky, “what goes around, comes around?”

  “Around and around and around,’ the voice called back. “Circles and bircles, whircles and merkles. Tis all part of the fair to me and fair to you. And we Hazletts likes to pay it back.”

  Poppy pulled a cloth out of her pocket, rinsed it at the edge of the river, and ran over to wash Nathan’s neck. Suddenly she looked at what she was washing, and said, “You’ve gone green.”

  Ferdinand hopped back onto Nathan’s shoulder, and peeped around at the four little holes in his neck. “You must see the illustrious empress,” he said at once. “She has the magic to cure this. You must interrupt the muster, my illustrious lord.”

  Feeling increasingly sick, Nathan sat down with a bump, his feet in the water. The wounds on his neck were no longer bleeding, but they had puffed up and turned a bright green. “Ug,” said Poppy. “And what Brewster was saying, Nat. What if you’ve got a bit of Yaark inside you too? Yaark could have got in through those bites.”

  Closing his eyes, and yawning deeply, Nathan seemed unable to answer. He began to curl up on the river bank, as if all he wanted to do was sleep. John yelled, “Pops, get Gilden.”

  Alfie marched cover, helping Nathan up from the ground, and holding him on his feet. “C’mon, Nat,” he said. “You gotta come back wiv us to the cottage.”

  “Tis days an’ days,’ John objected. “We ain’t gonna wait that long. Hermes, you gotta take Nat back. The rest of us will follow.”

  Hermes lowered his head, and waited while John and Alfie pushed Nathan up on the goose’s back. But he kept slipping off, and refused to hold on.