Tanglewreck

by Jeanette Winterson

  ‘I must feed Goliath now,’ said Gabriel. ‘Come with me, thou?’

  He smiled and held out his hand. Silver took it shyly, feeling how different was the strong square palm to her own small soft hand. He made her feel safe, this boy, with his careful slow ways and the sense she had that he was always looking to see if she was safe.

  As they went down the maze of passages, Gabriel had begun to sing in his strange high-pitched voice. Soon the tunnel began to shake, and when they entered the Feeding Room, where all the animal feed was kept, Goliath was already there, blinking at them mildly through his small eyes.

  ‘I love thee, Goliath,’ said Gabriel. ‘When I was a baby you did rescue me from the Devils.’

  Gabriel opened a wooded pen and started throwing in what looked like molasses cake. Goliath trotted in and began eating contentedly. He was much bigger than an elephant and much stronger too. Silver was a little bit afraid of him, but Gabriel was busy running round his body and clipping out knots and tangles from his thick coat.

  ‘Mammoths are supposed to be extinct,’ said Silver.

  ‘He is the only one,’ said Gabriel. ‘He would be lonely without me.’

  ‘When did he come here?’

  Gabriel sat down, as all the Throwbacks did when they were about to tell a story. He began …

  ‘There was a time before the Throwbacks ever were, called the Great Frost. The River Thames sheeted over like a new land, and the water was so thick-and-fast froze that for a full winter-time, four moons, men and women and their children lived on top of the water, in wooden buildings and in tents, and lit fires that were hot as hell but not hot enough to burn the frozen furnace beneath. And it was a furnace beneath, for under the ice, shapes and apparitions of the dead could be seen.

  ‘It must have been by an accident of Time that Micah tells us of, yea, that the Mammoth had been preserved deep deep in the river for longer than any man knew, but the ice-winter brought him slowly slowly to the surface, and a crowd of gentlemen had him dug out in his ice-case and displayed there on the river in all his silent sleeping wintry might.

  ‘Then, when no one expected it to happen and by chance and by fate, the thaw began one night, and houses and ships and lives were pulled down through the ice into the waters where they say life began. But here life ended and many were lost.

  ‘The Mammoth in his ice-case began to thaw too, he did, but he did not sink back into the mud where he had lain since the days of Boadicea, great queen of Britain. He awoke with a mighty trumpet, and his massy legs carried him through the torrents of the river, and he hid in the labyrinths of its banks – sometimes seen, as Time melted the years, but he was a superstition and a dream.

  ‘Then we came, and we found him, and we saved him.

  ‘There were two men who had begun to dig deep underground – Brunel, one was called, and Bazalgette, the other was called – and they dug pipes and sewers and drains and conduits and passages deep in the earth, and Goliath was seen by them, and they wanted him for their zoo, and they pursued him. But we saved him, and Time went on, and the men died, and others came, but in the new time there was no such thing as a Woolly Mammoth; he was a superstition and a dream.’

  Silver looked at the beast and at the boy and suddenly she felt better. She felt that she could stay here with this strange boy who had become her friend. Tanglewreck and the Timekeeper seemed very far away. Maybe she didn’t have to be brave at all. Maybe someone else would be brave instead.

  Somewhere in the tunnels, a horn sounded.

  ‘Hark,’ said Gabriel. ‘The Council is done. We must go to hear what they have debated.’

  ‘They’ve been reading the runes,’ said Silver. ‘I’m a bit worried about that. I don’t think I know what a rune is.’

  Goliath bent his shaggy head so that Gabriel could pat him between the eyes, then, leaving him eating as slowly as he liked to do, Gabriel took Silver’s hand and they ran back down the passages and into the Chamber.

  Holes!

  As Thugger regained consciousness he had the sense of someone stroking his hair, very agitated, and saying sorry all the time.

  It was Fisty.

  ‘Didn’t mean to conk you out, Mister Thugger. I was fighting for me life, after all that rabbit business.’

  ‘What rabbit business?’ said Thugger, feeling the bump on his head.

  ‘We’ve been tricked by a rabbit – terrible mean beast, it is, with big staring eyes. It tied me up, but I got one arm free and that’s what I hit you with.’

  ‘You were born stupid and you will die stupid,’ said Thugger.

  ‘Elvis is dead already,’ said Fisty sadly, picking up his dog’s ear with his one free hand.

  ‘He can’t be dead, cos he was never alive,’ said Thugger.

  ‘He was to me,’ said Fisty sadly, staring at Elvis’s rigid metal body stretched out on the floor.

  ‘Boo hoo,’ said Thugger. ‘And when we’ve cried over your non-existent dead dog, how are we going to get ourselves out of ’ere?’

  ‘We can’t. The rabbit has spies everywhere.’

  ‘I am not scared of a rabbit,’ said Thugger.

  ‘Wait till you see it – size of a pony, it is.’

  ‘Gimme yer feet, I’ll cut the twine and we’ll find a way out. Come on, come on!’

  When Fisty was free, he carefully put the remains of Elvis, including his ears, into the carrot sack and slung it over his shoulder. Then he followed Thugger round and round the cellar while they searched for a way out.

  ‘What’s this?’ said Thugger, feeling a metal plate under his fingers. ‘Shine my torch.’

  The plate in the floor was rusty and worn, but very clearly written on it were the words

  ELF KING

  ‘Forget it,’ said Fisty. ‘I’ve done rabbits, I’m not doing elves.’

  But Thugger had already lifted the plate and was shining his torch down the hole.

  ‘There’s a ladder here, and if I’m not daft, which I’m not, but you are, I can hear running water.’

  ‘Water elves,’ said Fisty. ‘Bad news.’

  ‘Come on, Superman, we’re going down – you first.’

  ‘No, no, no!’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

  Terrified, Fisty slung his legs down the chute and felt his way down the slippy wooden ladder. For a fleeting moment he had a happy picture of himself back at home, eating an Indian takeaway and watching the boxing, with Elvis at his feet chewing a clockwork mouse.

  It was not to be. He was in a hole, all right, and Thugger’s legs were coming after him.

  Down they went. Down and down. Above and above, watching watching, were the yellow sulphur eyes of Bigamist.

  A Trip to Tower

  Bridge

  It was a grim night in the Chamber.

  Everyone was silent when Gabriel and Silver returned, and Silver guessed that they had made a decision. She felt a strange tight feeling in her head, like before an exam.

  Eden came forward and gave the children lentils with stewed apples and onions to eat. As usual there was thick heavy bread with the dish, and milk to drink.

  When they had finished, Micah asked Silver to come and sit by him near the fire. He was kind but grave.

  ‘Silver, all be your friends here. I had thought to keep you here, so that the Timekeeper would be safe from Abel Darkwater, and you be safe too, but Eden has thrown the Oracle, and read the secrets therein, and now we know that you must find the Timekeeper, whether you will or no.’

  ‘But what will I do with it when I find it?’

  ‘That we do not know. The journey will unfold. Your destiny will unfold. But first you must begin.’

  ‘The Oracle speaks true, Silver,’ said Eden. ‘Here, see the runes – look.’

  Eden had drawn a circle on the ground and cast into it thick gold coins and beads that formed a pattern through the smoky lights set round it.

  As Silver squinted through the smoke she saw a face forming out of the
pattern of coins and beads. She drew in her breath. The face was hers, her face. She looked round wildly at the others. Eden was nodding.

  ‘You be the Child with the Golden Face.’

  ‘But who is she? I mean, if she’s me, who is she? I mean, who am I?’

  ‘You be the one who must keep the clock. You be the one who holds Time.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Silver, very unhappy.

  ‘You are a Timekeeper.’

  ‘But that’s the clock!’

  ‘The clock belongs to you. It must find its rightful place.’ Micah paused, and, with some hesitation and very slowly, he untied a rough jute bag and emptied out two tiny paintings – like the size of something from a locket.

  ‘These be the last two paintings on the numbers of the Timekeeper,’ said Micah. ‘And this be your face.’

  ‘Where did you get these?’ asked Silver, turning them over in her hands – one was a road winding through the stars, and the other was a tiny child holding a clock.

  ‘The night I stowed the clock for safekeeping at thine own house, I carried these two away with me – I know not why. And I hid them down the centuries, even from Abel Darkwater – I know not how. I vowed never to show them to a soul. But show them to you I do, because they are your own.’

  He put them back in the bag and gave the bag to Silver.

  ‘I could stay here. I’d like to stay here,’ said Silver desperately.

  Micah shook his head.

  ‘Shall we go with her?’ said Gabriel.

  Again Micah shook his head slowly and sadly. ‘Abel Darkwater shall destroy us if we journey with you. There are great powers at work. Abel Darkwater desires the Timekeeper above all things, yea, above life itself, and Maria Prophetessa will set out to defeat him, as she plotted to do in ages past. We cannot battle with these two by any means we possess. Only we can pray that they be defeated both together. Know you well that if we leave our home for too long, we shall die.’

  ‘But what about me?’ said Silver.

  ‘You shall journey to the Sands of Time.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘The Oracle points there. It may be that the Timekeeper be hidden there.’

  ‘But my daddy had it on the train.’

  ‘It may be that thy father be there also.’

  Silver’s heart leapt.

  ‘The prophecy speaks of the Sands of Time, and a hundred hundred and more years gone, when I won the clock at dice, this map be given to me also, and it is of the Sands of Time.’

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘I know not, but we can feel the trembles in the Earth, as animals do, and this very night there will be a great disturbance. You will go to Tower Bridge above the River Thames and when the moment comes you must trust your fate.’

  Micah took out an ancient map in a leather folder. He passed it to Silver.

  ‘I’m not scared,’ said Silver, who was. Then she said, ‘Do I have to go?’

  ‘Yea.’

  ‘Micah …’ said Eden, her voice full of doubt. She was sending Micah a Mind Message, something she didn’t want Silver to hear. Micah nodded reluctantly.

  ‘Silver,’ he said. ‘The yea or the nay is for you to choose. You need not go. You be free to stay here, free to return to your own place, free to begin the quest that only you can complete. What be your answer?’

  Silver looked into his kind troubled eyes. She had a few questions.

  ‘Do I have to go without Gabriel?’

  ‘Beyond the bridge, he may not go. At the bridge, you must travel alone.’

  ‘When must I go?’

  ‘This very moment. If you will.’

  Silver looked down at the map. It was just squiggles. Her eyes were blurred with tears. She had never been any good at geography.

  She remembered when she had sat in the high attic room at Tanglewreck, and although she had asked her beloved house to tell her what to do, in her heart she had known the answer herself. It is easier when someone else can give you the answer, but when it comes to the really important things, no one else can.

  She looked around the Chamber. Suddenly everyone had gone.

  Silver began to pack some food into her bag. Then she put on her own shoes and her duffle coat. She stood up very straight, her little bag packed.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes.’

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, Micah was beside her again. He hugged her hard, and then he took her hand. He was pressing something into her palm.

  ‘You be not learned in telepathy and cannot send Mind Messages as do we, but hold this in thy small hands and say my name and I shall hear.’

  It was the medallion he wore around his neck with his name on it. She nodded, too tearful to speak. Micah stepped back.

  ‘Three things have I given thee; the map, this medallion and the jewelled faces of the clock. The Timekeeper must thou find alone.’

  Silver nodded, too upset to speak. Gabriel came out of the shadows leading two bog ponies. He gave Silver a leg up, and Micah slapped the back of her pony with the flat of his hand, and the little animal started forward.

  ‘Farewell, Child of Time!’

  Riding slowly, Silver and Gabriel travelled without speaking through the passages and tunnels, for what might have been an hour, or might have been a day, until Gabriel halted and slid off his pony.

  ‘Here we be, Silver. I will take thee into the light, though I may not stay.’

  Gabriel pushed back a wooden hatch and gave Silver a leg up on to a platform into what looked like a generator shed. She could hear cars whizzing along the road somewhere near.

  Gabriel swung himself by her. ‘We must pass through this door into the Tower.’

  ‘What tower?’

  ‘The Tower of London. There be a secret passage from the Tower of London to the watchman’s room on the bridge.’

  Gabriel led the way through a low oak door into a stone corridor. Dark figures stood in the shadows. Silver hesitated.

  ‘They be but armour,’ explained Gabriel, urging her on. ‘This be where they keep their armour and their weapons.’

  Silver knew that all places like museums and castles keep a lot of their treasures hidden away in the cellars.

  ‘We must not take anything,’ said Gabriel, ‘that is the rule.’

  Silver had stopped by a very small suit of armour that must have been made for a child. She badly wanted to put it on. It might protect her.

  ‘Make haste,’ said Gabriel, already ahead of her in the gloom.

  Quickly Silver snatched up the pair of chain-mail gloves lined in leather and fur, and put them in her duffle coat pocket. There was a small double-headed axe hanging on the wall near the armour, and, glancing guiltily at Gabriel’s retreating form, she shoved it into her duffle bag, and ran on past the maces and the pikestaffs and the balls on their chains, and the crossbows, and the swords, and caught up with Gabriel, who looked at her with a question in his eyes.

  Cabbage, thought Silver, cabbage, cabbage cabbage.

  The rules were all very well, but she had nothing and no one to look after her, only her own wits and what she could steal.

  ‘Roger Rover’s grandchild indeed!’

  ‘What?’ said Silver, who was sure she had heard a voice, and once again, as she had done in the tunnel that had taken her to the Throwbacks, she looked round with the uneasy feeling that she was being followed.

  ‘Look, there be the Crown jewels,’ said Gabriel, trying to cheer her up, and sure enough, on red plush and ermine, locked in a glass box, was the Crown of England, that had been worn by so many kings and queens throughout history.

  How strange, thought Silver, that you can wear Time on your head.

  Pearls the size of a baby’s head – that was what Roger Rover had given to Queen Elizabeth the First, and here was one left, in a special case of Elizabethan treasures.

  As Silver looked at it through the darkened glass, she was sure she saw a face, yes, a face, a reflection, a ma
n with a neat red beard. She spun round. There was no one behind her. She looked again at the case. The pearl was opaque.

  The castle was closed to visitors that day, and so Gabriel and Silver were able to make their journey like mice round the outskirts of the room.

  ‘Evil eye,’ said Gabriel, pointing upwards at the CCTV cameras. Deftly, he took a cloth weighted with lead at the corners and threw it over the face of the camera as they crossed the floor in front of it to another door.

  ‘Beefeaters,’ said Gabriel, pointing downwards at the men in red guarding the Tower. ‘And ravens. When the ravens no longer fly to the Tower, England will fall.’

  Steadily, Gabriel led them on, dipping underground again, and emerging through a vent shaft to a rusty disused ladder.

  ‘This leads us unto the bridge,’ he said.

  ‘How do you know these ways?’ asked Silver.

  ‘We know all the ways,’ said Gabriel simply.

  Tower Bridge stands high above the Thames. It is the only bridge over the Thames that can open to let through tall ships. Each half of the bridge is raised on a great winch, and the tall-masted ships sail on.

  Abel Darkwater knew exactly where Silver was because he was following her progress with his Detector. He had a sock left behind by Silver, and he put this sock into the drawer of his Detector, and let the machine track down her imprint of atoms as she moved through the world.

  ‘We are all made of atoms,’ he said to Mrs Rokabye, ‘and what are atoms but empty space and points of light? The alchemists understood this as fire, and learned that the fiery body can be consumed and made again, like the phoenix from the ashes. Oh yes, we can all be consumed and made again.’

  Mrs Rokabye had no idea what Abel Darkwater was talking about and she didn’t care. She had a plan of her own, and now she was in league with Sniveller. They would soon outwit Abel Darkwater with his nonsense about atoms and fiery bodies, and then they would have the Timekeeper themselves, and sell it to the highest bidder.