The Queen and the Nobody Boy

by Barbara Else

  “School trip with best friend of Princessa.” Murgott wiped his forehead on his sleeve. “Boy – girl – writin’ essay. School. Silly children, project nearly overdue, you know how it is.”

  The guards chuckled, opened the door and let them through.

  Inside there was only one wind-car. Though it was small (a real surprise!), its roof was adorned with twirls of gold. And there, directly opposite where Hodie stood, was the exit to the outside, a closed slab of marble.

  Hodie shut the door back into the stairwell as swiftly as possible. He grabbed a pair of pliers from a handy rack (there was always such a rack in any garage) and placed it near the door so he could wedge it open at the right time.

  The squirrel wheezed to show how difficult and long the climb had been. Hodie’s mother crouched to gain her breath. Dardy looked especially faint.

  “Into the wind-car,” Hodie gasped.

  Dardy’s chest heaved, but he staggered with Sibilla into the wind-car. Allana stumbled after them. Hodie and Murgott clambered in too. The seats were gold and twirly, one brighter and more twirly than the others (no prize for guessing whose). Little cabinets with gold doors lined the rear. The wind-car’s walls glittered with mirrors, reflections of purple and gold.

  “Dardy, do you know how to start the engine?” Hodie asked.

  Dardy shook his head.

  Hodie turned to Murgott. “You watched Lu’nedda with the sails, when she was Ogg’ward. Show Dardy, quick.”

  The Corporal chewed his lip and shook his head.

  Hodie had got them this far and they wanted to give up! He’d had one night – just one night – living like a lord, and now everything was for nothing. Self-pity and frustration began to choke in Hodie’s chest. Of course there was no such thing as marvellous magic! If there were, it would be here to help the Queen! The squirrel gave an angry chitter and nipped his boot.

  “All right.” Hodie jabbed Dardy with a finger. “You taught me all I know about how things work – these controls can’t be difficult. The engine would probably have helped, but I hope we don’t need it. Now listen. When the slab to the outside is fully open, I’m going to jam open the door into the stairwell. Air will rush up from inside the mountain – it should lift the wind-car up and send it well out. All we have to do is get enough height to glide over the Moat.”

  With a little more colour in his face, Dardy examined the controls.

  “Your Majesty and my mother,” Hodie continued. “Just sit and hang on tight.”

  Allana grabbed Sibilla by the hand. Hodie felt a flicker of jealousy, but the plan was moving on.

  Sibilla’s eyes shone. “What about you?”

  “When Murgott and I have got the slab open, Murgott leaps in and helps Dardy. Then I jam open the door and hope the guards don’t catch me. I’ll jump in at the last moment.”

  Hodie checked the satchel was firm on his back, nodded just like a soldier to Murgott, and Murgott signalled back (just like a Corporal). Then the two of them raced over to the marble slab. The Corporal heaved a lever. Slowly the slab began to roll … there was the dazzle of sky …

  A yell rang out behind the inner door, and it flung wide open. Hot air from deep inside Um’Binnia began to rush into the cavern much too soon.

  “What’s going on? Close exit at once!” It was Commander Gree’sle, pistol drawn, Prowdd’on behind him, and Princessa Lu’nedda in a bright pink dress with matching handbag and slippers with rubies. She clutched a hand over her mouth.

  “Dardy! Steady the wind-car!” Hodie yelled.

  “Stop criminal Fontanian!” roared Prowdd’on.

  The guards rushed in behind the Emperor.

  Warning bells began to ring, but the slab continued to roll open. Murgott wedged his Um’Binnian hat behind the lever to hold it down, ran to the wind-car and dived in.

  Gree’sle sprinted and caught Hodie’s wrist. Hodie tugged to free himself, but the Commander’s skinny hand was strong as iron.

  “Hodie!” Dardy plunged out of the wind-car and staggered down onto his knees.

  Gree’sle’s pistol aimed at Dardy. Hodie kicked and spoiled the shot. The Commander wrestled Hodie along the floor, but Hodie managed to steer him towards the pliers. He scooped them up and whacked the back of Gree’sle’s knee. The Commander buckled. Dardy recovered his footing and helped Hodie pull free. They leapt past the guards, back into the wind-car.

  Murgott was struggling with the controls. “Dardy,” he cried, “give me a hand!”

  “Hurry!” cried Hodie. The hot blast would only last another moment.

  The wind-car bucked, lifted, and bounced on the cavern floor. Hodie glanced up through the window – its sails were spread.

  But a guard was scrambling in. Murgott raised a boot and pushed him out. The wind-car rose, then dropped again.

  “We’re too heavy!” Murgott cried. “Ditch the ballast!”

  Dardy looked at Lady Allana and the Queen. He let go the controls, gave Lady Allana a salute, and jumped from the wind-car. A guard was on him at once with the flash of a sword. Dardy was flung down like an old cloak.

  “No!” screamed Allana.

  She leaned too close to the door. The second guard reached in and dragged her out in the jangling of the warning bells.

  The wind-car quivered on the brink. It must still be too heavy …

  “Take the controls, Hodie!” Murgott cried. “Save the Queen!”

  Murgott leaped out.

  Only Hodie and Sibilla were left in the wind-car. Which lever would save her? This one? That? The wind-car still teetered.

  “Hodie!” cried his mother’s voice. “Go! Now!”

  A fresh group of guards rushed in and ran for the wind-car. Somebody thrust between them, landed in the aisle and slammed the door. It was Lu’nedda. She grabbed the controls and the engine roared. With a jerk, the royal wind-car soared into the air …

  The engine spluttered. Lu’nedda cursed. The wind-car began falling. Hodie tumbled, tumbled again. He saw his reflection in many mirrors – a hundred Hodies, a hundred royal wind-cars, falling, falling.

  ~

  what to do

  when you’ve escaped

  but only so far

  32

  choose any way you like

  as long as it’s down

  The wind-car bumped against the cliff, bumped again and rested, rocking, swaying. Hodie was jammed under a seat. Towards the rear, the little Queen was on the floor too, white knuckles gripping the base of the golden throne. He couldn’t see the Princessa from where he was. Had she tried to save them? Did she know by now the bag was gone from her apartment? Maybe she thought she’d captured them.

  Lu’nedda let out a low groan, up at the controls. “No Toad Oil. I ruin engine.”

  The wind-car lurched. Hodie felt the wind swirl and catch the sails. He saw a flash of rock, then sky – This is luck, he thought, we don’t need magic …

  But the moment of limping flight turned into a spinning plummet, another terrible long fall.

  The bottom of the wind-car thumped again – branches scraped past, cracking and tearing in the rustle of a million leaves. More bumps – more tearing and scraping – a branch smashed through one window and speared through another on the opposite side. The wind-car hung, suspended. Hodie and the Queen were still flat under the seats. But Hodie could see a way out.

  The branch wasn’t thick, and wouldn’t hold for long. With great care, he edged backwards, avoiding broken glass as best as he could. His Um’Binnian cloak was some protection. Each time the wind-car moved, he caught his breath. He reached Sibilla. A lot of curls had escaped from the Corporal’s jacket collar.

  “Can you move?” he asked. She blinked as if she didn’t know the answer. “Follow me, slowly.”

  He slid towards to the door. Lu’nedda was slumped at the c
ontrols. Was she hurt? Well … to Hodie, managing one royal female at a time seemed a practical plan for the next steps.

  The wind-car wobbled. With a groan, Lu’nedda raised her head, reflected in all the shattered mirrors. The sight of so many Princessas all at once hurt Hodie’s brain.

  He reached up, fiddled the catch and the door half-opened. When he peered out, he wanted to throw up.

  “We’re just a … a bit above the ground.” Sometimes a lie was all right, if it would do a necessary job. “The little Queen should climb out first. Princessa, when the wind-car steadies again, it’s your turn.”

  The whole tree creaked. The wind-car shuddered and tilted backwards. The squirrel appeared from somewhere, scampered over Hodie’s head (claws in his ear!) and disappeared out into the tree. Lu’nedda was sitting up now, eyes squeezed tight – it looked more with fury than being afraid.

  Hodie clung to the door jamb. “Hurry. Or we just wait till we slide off and crash. Sibilla, climb over me and out.”

  She slid up beside him. “Follow me at once. I won’t budge until you promise.”

  He nodded to make her shut up. “As soon as you’re down, run. Run for your life.”

  “We’re much higher than you said! But here goes …” She set a knee into his back (much worse than a paw in his ear). Then she gripped the branch and eased along. He saw her hand stretch for the trunk. There was a splitting noise – the branch held – she managed to scramble down two more branches. She thumped to the ground and started running.

  “Get away!” he yelled.

  “Hodie, come on!” Sibilla cried.

  He turned to urge Lu’nedda, but the satchel under his arm hitched him up. As he freed it, a gust of wind blew, and the branch jerked and tipped him out. He lunged at the trunk, slithered past several branches and somehow landed on his knees below the wind-car, still with the satchel.

  “Run!” screamed Sibilla.

  The tree creaked again. Hodie dashed to where the little Queen crouched beside a tree stump. The branch stuck through the wind-car cracked and split a little more.

  “Princessa!” yelled Sibilla. “Slide out now!”

  Lu’nedda appeared, handbag slung over a wrist, a slipper clenched in her teeth. She flailed round and grabbed the branch.

  “Get both hands on it,” Hodie called. “Now swing your feet to the branch just below … Right! Work your way to the trunk … now just climb. Down,” he added. “Climb down. Down further. Down a lot more.”

  Lu’nedda landed on the ground and staggered. The branch began a long creak. The Princessa screamed, the slipper dropped, she rushed towards Hodie and Sibilla, and fell into a hollow behind the stump. There was an almighty thud, and the ground rocked.

  The royal wind-car lay flat on its belly beneath the tree. Glass tinkled again inside for several moments. The twirly gold bits had become spikes full of birds’ nests and twigs. The wings were smashed. The only sign of Lu’nedda’s slipper was a toe sticking out from under the wind-car.

  The Princessa crawled out of the hollow. “You helped me.” Her eyes seemed funny, as if she stared at something far away. “You saved me. Both of you.”

  “You tried to save us first. At least, I think you did,” Sibilla said. “So don’t go on about it. Sit quietly and recover. Hodie has to decide what we do next.”

  Hodie actually thought that saving Lu’nedda was an enormous complication. He didn’t have a clue what to do now. There the Princessa was, one foot in a ruby slipper, the other in a royal sock. A breeze carried her muttering to him. “Allana … so brave. Dardy … so faithful. And Murgott. How brave. How loyal and brave, and once he used to be a pirate. So loyal. Steadfast. Brave.”

  Sibilla dragged him away from Lu’nedda’s hearing. “What’s your plan?”

  He closed his eyes. Every plan he’d tried had failed. This was all because of a load of rubbish that didn’t belong to his mother or to him. He slipped the satchel off his shoulder and held it out.

  “The stuff’s in here. It’s yours – you’d better take it.” All he wanted was to be left alone. He was obviously hopeless at having parents. He’d found his mother – only by accident – and lost her again almost at once. His real father was dead. Now Dardy was really dead too.

  The Queen stepped back. More hair sprang out around her shoulders. “You can’t give up now, Hodie. Did you send the bird to Jasper?”

  “Well, I sent it away,” he said.

  “Thank goodness,” she said.

  “But what use is that?”

  Again, she looked as if she’d like to punch him.

  He pressed a hand to his chest to help him speak – he owed her that much. “The bird means your brother the King is a clever inventor. But how far can it fly? Does it know where King Jasper is? Can we be sure it flew out of the mountain? It might be stuck in a shopkeeper’s wardrobe.”

  Sibilla looked totally furious, as well as ridiculous in Murgott’s jacket over pyjamas and dressing gown, and with the pink slippers. “But Hodie, you held the bird. Did you begin to feel it might be alive?”

  He nearly said yes, but shook his head.

  “I thought – but maybe it wasn’t …” She blinked away tears. “But something else – you knew the hot wind trapped inside the mountain would escape and help the wind-car into the air.”

  Yes, and he had nearly killed them. He tried again to walk away.

  She hurried after him. “We’re not even hurt!”

  Had she read his thoughts? “Dardy’s dead,” he managed to say. “My mother’s a prisoner. Murgott’s dead or captured too. And it’s my fault.”

  For a moment the Queen looked scared again, lost. “Hodie, I’m trying to let you see. We can’t give up. I’ll never come into my magic, but I must take The Ties to the dragon-eagle before it dies …” She straightened her shoulders. “Please help me.”

  “Even if they are The Ties … Look.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not your servant. I just want to go south. I don’t actually believe that the dragon-eagles …” The words started to go slippery.

  Her hands flew up to hold her lucky charm. “But in the laboratory, the dragon-eagle spoke to you as well as me. It’s relying on me … And it’s relying on you too.”

  Hodie felt a spark inside him, but just for a moment. How could he rescue her any more than he’d already done? How could he save a dragon-eagle? He limped away and leaned against a tree. He would have liked to weep – for Dardy, his mother, Murgott, and himself – but he had no energy.

  A chittering sounded above him. The squirrel, on a branch, cocked its head as if it listened. There were bird calls and a sort of rushing in Hodie’s ears, but it wasn’t the breeze. Through the trees he saw the grey and white churning of the Great Salt Moat. Salt water was the sea. The Moat had to have an opening to Old Ocean.

  He stared up at the shattered wings of the royal wind-car. A breeze rattled through them. What you needed, so Dardy had taught Hodie, was common sense and a way with a hammer. What you needed, so Murgott had taught him, was tactics. The best tactic now was a way off the shore and onto the sea. This was something that an odd-job boy could do!

  Mind you, the sea around here was said to be infested by Ocean Toads. He just had to hope like blazes it was the Toads’ day off.

  ~

  33

  sensible shoes

  Hodie walked around the wind-car and tapped the panels of its sides. They seemed sound, though they might be damaged underneath. Anyway, his spark of energy was back.

  The squirrel chittered again, high in the tree. Hodie glanced up the mountain. Broken trees showed the path the wind-car had tumbled. Something glinted high up. If it was Um’Binnian soldiers climbing down to find them, with luck they’d stuff their boots in rabbit holes and trip.

  There was rustling in the bushes, and a shout. The soldiers! Hodie spun round, b
ut the man who stumbled into the clearing was Corporal Murgott with his duffel bag and a coil of rope over his shoulders. He was bruised, tattered, scratched (and bare-headed, of course). His eyes were fierce. Sibilla looked as if she only just stopped herself running over to kiss him hello. (Hodie would have liked to hug him too but didn’t let on, though he couldn’t stop grinning.)

  Lu’nedda glanced at Murgott, went very red and turned her royal nose away. After the fuss she’d been making, Hodie would have expected her to welcome the Corporal with a kind word or royal nod.

  Murgott staggered to Hodie and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Boy, I’d like to say don’t worry, but that’s for a young man to decide for himself. What I can say is an hour ago your mother was alive, but Prowdd’on had her. As for Dardy – I’m sorry, boy. A loyal servant. A hero. He was as good a father to you as he knew how. He had faith in you, boy.”

  Hodie didn’t trust his voice to stay steady, but he nodded and patted his hand on top of Murgott’s.

  The Corporal turned to salute Sibilla. She made a queenly gesture for him to sit, and he sank down at once. He blinked at Lu’nedda’s one slipper, drew in a breath and thrust a hand in his duffel bag. “Princessa,” he mumbled. “For your use.”

  Hodie expected him to bring out the emerald slipper from the Depot (though it might have been for the wrong foot). But Murgott offered the Princessa his best boots, restored to the highest gloss.

  Lu’nedda’s eyebrows pulled together as if they needed to lean on each other for some support. “Oh,” she said. “Oh.” (Which made one oh for each boot.) She blushed right down her neck, accepted the boots and tried them on. They looked surprisingly good with her pink dress. “Good workmanship. Perfect fit.” She took a few steps. “Thank you, Corporal Murgott.”

  “Happy to be of service, ma’am.” Murgott tried to stand and salute again, but collapsed to the ground. “That’s record time for scalin’ down a mountain. I have never been so wrecked in all my days.”