by Angie Sage
“Impressive, eh?” asked Danny proudly, and he headed off to the back of the engine, calling out, “Jay! Hey!”
There was a muffled reply of “Hey!” from the back of Big Puffer. Danny crouched down. “Jay,” he said. “Come out from under there, will you?”
There was some muffled grunting and Jay suddenly shot out from beneath the engine on a trolley. He sat up, wiping the dust from his eyes. “What’s up?” he asked. Alex pushed the suddenly shy Benn forward. “Go on,” she whispered. “Go to Jay.”
But Benn hung back. He felt weird; his eyes prickled and something lay heavy in his chest.
Jay got up from the trolley, wiped his greasy hands on his overalls and looked at Danny sourly. “We’ve got work to do. Stop messing around.”
“Jay,” Danny said, beckoning Benn forward. “There’s someone here for you.”
Jay threw his wrench down to the ground angrily. “I told you, no rubberneckers. No one is coming in here poking their pointy beaks at the Puffer. No one!”
“Hey, take it easy,” Danny said. He went to Jay and put his arm around his shoulders. “Jay, Benn is here.”
Jay stared at Danny. “What?”
Alex gave Benn an impatient shove in the back and Benn appeared in the pool of lantern light. “Hi, Jay,” Benn said, suddenly awkward.
Jay stared at the little brother he’d thought was dead. “Benn? It’s you?”
Benn found himself unable to speak. He nodded abruptly and then threw himself at Jay, who caught him, staggered and tripped backward over the trolley, whereupon they both landed on it and went hurtling across the cavern.
Danny and Alex burst out laughing.
Chapter 29
Chariots of Fear
FRANCINA D’ARBO, SISTER TO ZERRA and Louie, foster sister to Alex, was upstairs in the roundhouse. Francina—who had turned up there a few days back looking for Louie—was dreamily drawing pictures of a boy in a Hawke Flyer’s jacket. Francina was also sulking. She did not understand why her mother—who was not even here—would not let her go visit Danny down at Lemon Dock. Even Nella, who usually talked to Francina like she was a real grown-up, had said no. Why is everyone being so boring? Francina asked herself as she sketched in the boy’s long braid and wished she had the right shade of red to color it with. I so wish I could get out of this stupid dump.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Nella was sitting with Francina’s little brother, Louie, as he finished yet another lemon-and-honey pancake. “I wonder where the pokkle is?” Louie was saying. “It didn’t come back in last night. I hope it’s all right.”
Nella, who was no fan of the pokkle after it had bitten her ankle, smiled at Louie. He reminded her so much of Benn at his age when he had first come to live with her after his mother had died and his father found him “too much.” Nella thought that Louie’s mother, Mirram, seemed remarkably uninterested in her little son—in all her children, in fact—and Nella was already hoping that Louie might stay for a while. She sat down companionably with Louie and sipped her orange tea. “I’m sure the pokkle will be back soon,” she told him.
“I hope so,” Louie said. “I miss the pokkle when it’s not here.” He ran his finger around the plate to scoop up the last of the honey. “And I miss Alex too.”
“As much as the pokkle?” Nella asked, with a smile in her voice.
Louie considered this as he took a gulp of orange juice. “More than the pokkle,” he said. “Much more.”
“I miss Alex too,” said Nella. “And I miss Benn, my grandson.”
Louie nodded. He was learning fast about missing people.
Nella had reached over to take Louie’s hand, which was sticky from the honey, when a loud banging on the door made them both jump. “I suppose Jay has forgotten his key again,” Nella said, getting up and hurrying over to the door.
Louie watched anxiously. In his experience, loud banging on the door meant bad people were on the other side of it.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Nella told him as she drew back the bolt at the top. “You’re safe here.”
And then she screamed.
“I did not scream!” Alex protested, laughing, as Benn regaled Jay with their difficulties getting Merry into the estuary. They were sitting on the footplate of the Big Puffer—which Jay insisted on abbreviating to “the Puffer”—contentedly drinking Jay’s hot spiced orange tea. Jay, however, was restless. “Drink up, you two,” he said. “We need to get to Gramma’s. Preferably before it gets dark. I don’t like the river at night.”
Benn threw Alex an anxious glance—he knew what happened once darkness fell. The Gray Walker—a Night Wraith and Hagos’s most vicious Twilight Haunting—would hunt Alex down just as it had done before.
Alex understood his glance. “It’s okay, Benn,” she said. “It’s like I told you. Poppa says this cavern is not part of its Haunting ground. It can’t cross this threshold.” Alex pointed to the huge doors that rolled across the cavern entrance. “We’ll close those and I’ll be perfectly safe.”
“But there’s a chimney thing in the cavern roof, isn’t there?” Benn said. “Won’t stuff come down there?”
Alex had asked Hagos a lot of questions about the Gray Walker, and she knew the answer to that. “The sky chimney comes out way up in the Border Hills. And the Gray Walker is hefted to Lemon Valley.”
“Hefted?” asked Jay.
“It means something stays in a particular area. Like the Skorpas stay in the desert and the Xin stay on the cliffs.”
“Weird,” said Jay. “But good too. So you can stay here, Alex, and I’ll take Benn back home.” He stood up. “Come on, Benn. We need to go.”
Benn shook his head. “No, Jay. Not tonight. I’m not leaving Alex alone with the Hauntings.”
Jay was exasperated. “She’s not alone, Danny’s here. And anyway, like she said, the Hauntings don’t even come in here.”
With dismay Alex listened to herself being discussed. She understood that nothing had changed; her presence was still causing trouble. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “You get going now, tell Nella and Louie hello from me.”
“Thanks, Alex,” Jay said. “We’ll do that. Come on, Benn.”
“Jay, you’re not listening to me,” Benn told his brother. “I already said I’m not leaving Alex. I know what the Twilight Hauntings are like. Danny doesn’t. Give Gramma my love and tell her we’ll be along in Merry in the morning.”
“Have it your own way then,” Jay said, annoyed. “You always do.”
“Me?” Benn spluttered angrily. “Me? Get real, Jay. You’re the one who does exactly what he wants to. Who takes the lemons up the hill to Luma for Gramma twice a week, huh? Not you, is it? Who weeds the groves, picks the lemons, helps Gramma do the digging? Me, that’s who. So that you, Jay, can do exactly what you want, when you want. Now you can listen to me. For once I’m doing what I want. And Gramma will understand, I know she will.”
Jay was silent, regarding Benn coolly. His little brother had suddenly grown up. Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Okay. So there’s nothing I can say to change your mind?”
“No,” said Benn.
“No!” Louie was screaming from under the table. “No, no, no! Go away! Go awaaaaay!” Cowering behind a forest of chair legs, Louie could see Nella sprawled facedown by the door where she’d tried to slam it closed against the horror of the Jackal-headed creatures that had barged their way in. And now they were down on all fours like wolves—Louie was terrified of wolves—their white snouts snuffling, long fangs bared and their claws grabbing at him. Louie closed his eyes and tried to pretend he really was a superhero, just as Alex used to tell him. But that did not stop him from feeling the Jackal dragging him out from under the table, lifting him up by his arms and legs and carrying him outside. All the time Louie kept his eyes squeezed shut, but when he was pushed down into something that wobbled and heard the clang of metal all around him, Louie opened his eyes to find he was in a cage on wheels drawn by two
horses. And next to it was another empty cage just the same.
Too shocked to move, Louie watched the Jackal go back into the roundhouse. Louie scrunched himself up into a ball and covered his face with his arms. He was having a nightmare. He would wake up soon. He would be back home with Alex and everything would be all right.
But the nightmare continued. Louie heard Francina screaming. The screams got louder and louder until he knew she was very close to him. He heard the clang of metal again and then a long wail of “Nooooooo!” Louie knew that Francina was now in the same nightmare as he was—and that maybe he wasn’t going to wake up at home with Alex ever again.
Alex, Benn and Danny watched Jay head down the tunnel, his figure silhouetted against the arch of light at the end.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said.
“What for?” Benn asked.
“For the argument between you and Jay.”
“It’s not your fault,” Benn said. “Just like these Hauntings are not your fault either. And anyway, I’ve been wanting to tell him that for ages.”
“Sometimes,” said Danny, “you just have to tell it like it is.” He smiled at Alex. “I did the same with your dad a few days ago. I hope you get to meet him one day, Alex. He’s a good man.”
Alex smiled. “Thanks, Danny. He said the same about you.”
Danny looked puzzled. “How? You mean . . . he found you?”
Alex nodded. “And then I found him,” she said. “It’s a long story.”
“So tell me,” Danny said, grinning. “We’ve got all night.”
Jay was down at the jetty on the river, staring out across the empty waters and muttering a fine selection of rude words, while just a few miles away two Jackal chariots were bumping their way along the riverbank. Inside them, both Francina and Louie lay in their tiny prisons, curled up into balls. Louie had thought that nothing could ever be any worse—and then it was. Something bit his foot. He kicked out and heard scrabbling beside him. Louie did not dare open his eyes. He could feel something moving, inching up toward his head. “Go away . . . ,” he whispered. “Please go away.”
“Go way!” came an answering squawk.
“Pokkle?” Louie whispered. He peered through his fingers, hardly daring to hope. “Pokkle!” he gasped. “Oh, pokkle . . .” Louie reached out and pulled the feathery creature toward him. It was a dull gray color, so Louie knew it was feeling sad, and it looked somewhat bedraggled too, because it had been clinging onto the back of the chariot ever since it left the roundhouse. The pokkle rarely felt pleased about anything, but something about Louie’s squashy hug made it feel almost happy. A pale pink glow spread slowly over its feathers and it set about licking the salt from Louie’s tearstained face.
Benn and Danny were about to pull the doors across the tunnel when they saw Jay walking toward them. He reached the cavern and gave Benn a rueful smile. “My boat’s gone. Guess I didn’t tie it up right.”
“It was crazy when we got here,” Benn said. “The tide was so fast. Everything was being swept out. I’ve never seen it so bad. I’d say take Merry but I’m guessing the water’s gone and she’s stuck on the mud now?”
Jake nodded. “Stranded. But thanks for the offer, Benn.”
Benn smiled, pleased to have patched things up with Jay. “Just think how happy Gramma will be when we all turn up together,” he said.
Jay nodded. “Yeah. But I really wanted to get back to her tonight,” he said. “I dunno why. But I did.”
Chapter 30
The Beguiler Bell
TWO JACKAL CHARIOTS HAD DRAWN up outside the city gates beneath the Beguiler Bell and were waiting for the bell to ring. The bell, however, remained obstinately silent. The lead Jackal looked up at it anxiously. The mission was accomplished; they had the boy and girl Beguiler brats, therefore the bell must ring. As the guards pulled open the gates, the lead Jackal sprang into the air and punched the bell, sending it frantically clanging, echoing across the whole of Rekadom.
At the top of the Gold and Silver Towers, the raucous ringing of the Beguiler Bell sent the two disparate occupants hurrying to their windows. King Belamus, through his spyglass, watched the chariots rattling into the lantern-lit Gate Court. He laughed in relief at the sight of their two small, terrified passengers. Here were the last Beguilers in the kingdom. Apart from the annoying Beguiler next door, of course.
The annoying Beguiler next door did not have such a good view. He was peering anxiously out the tiny window in his study—the only one to overlook Gate Court—but his view of the gate was almost entirely obscured by the high walls. All he could see were the ominous tops of two chariot cages. “Boo-boo?” he whispered. “Is that you in there?”
Bartlett was sitting up late in the office. She had just made a cup of orange tea and taken a cookie from the jar when she heard the Beguiler Bell ring. She jumped with surprise—what was a Beguiler doing coming into the city at night? Surely someone ought to stop them? Bartlett hurried out through the nighttime rustlings of the darkened mews, with its wakeful birds, and unbarred the door. Mindful of the Rocadiles—two of which were dozing by the wall—she walked quickly across to the snicket and peered through. There, by lantern light, she saw that all was in order. It was not some lone Beguiler come to terrorize them, it was four of the king’s Jackal and two prison chariots, presumably carrying a consignment of Beguilers. With the Jackal fussing with the horses, their long coats swishing and the Gate Court lanterns casting confusing shadows, Bartlett could not see who was in the cages. She watched with interest as a horse was taken off each chariot and led away by a stable girl, leaving the remaining horses to pull the chariots in single file to the door to the dungeons. Bartlett smiled. All was as it should be.
As her chariot bumped over the cobbles, Francina could not take her eyes off the huge iron door ahead, studded with nails. It was identical to the door in Luma that led to the prisons—the notorious Vaults—beneath the city. The door opened to reveal a dimly lit tunnel with green slime upon the walls dipping down into the darkness beyond. As the chariots clattered into the tunnel, Francina turned around to comfort Louie in his cage, but he was curled up into a ball like a hedgehog, and Francina was glad he could not see where they were going.
The horses trod carefully down the slippery incline, taking the chariots ever deeper into the warren of passages below Rekadom. The rattling of the iron wheels and the clop of the horses’ hooves echoed harshly off the stones and made Francina’s head hurt. Eventually they drew to a clattering halt at a barred gate, which was opened with much clinking of keys. The horses clip-clopped through and the chariots drew up in a circular space lit by a few dim lanterns. Four guards appeared from the darkness, rubbing their hands in the chill. Silently, they lifted first the bars from the chariots, then the prisoners, and set them both upon the ground.
“We’ll take over now,” they told the Jackal.
The Jackal watched impassively as the stunned Louie and Francina were ushered away into a dark corridor. The Jackal waited until they heard the clang of a distant cell door, and then they took the horses back up the incline and out into the night. They had another job to do before the night was over.
Down in the dungeons, the guards were back in their guardroom.
“At least we got some prisoners now,” one of them said.
“Just a couple of kids,” said another. “Hardly worth bothering about. They won’t last long.”
“Yeah. They say they’re the last Beguilers in the kingdom. So when they’re gone, that’s it for us.”
“Don’t forget the smarty-pants Enchanter up in the Silver Tower,” said the fourth.
Another laughed. “He won’t last long now. Sausages, anyone?”
There was a general agreement that sausages were a good idea.
Bartlett hurried back to the familiarity of the office and sat down at the desk once more. She wondered if one of the prisoners—they had looked quite small—might be the absconded trainee Flyer. She was sure she
was a Beguiler child. Bartlett made a note to go and check out the dungeons the next day and took a sip of her orange tea and a bite from her cookie. She frowned. The cookie tasted very odd—the chocolate crumbles were strangely bitter. She took a second bite and chewed slowly. Her teeth hit something soft. It tasted vile. She gagged and spit the mouthful across the desk, where it landed with a splat. Bartlett took a gulp of tea to wash away the taste. What was wrong with these cookies?
Bartlett was inspecting the contents of the cookie jar when she heard the key turning the lock of the door into the mews. Bother, thought Bartlett. It’s Ratchet. What’s he doing back so soon? She picked up the cookie jar—thinking she’d offer one to Ratchet and enjoy seeing the expression on his face—and opened the office door. She screamed and dropped the jar on the foot of the nearest Jackal—the one with the handcuffs.
Dumbstruck, Bartlett stared at the Jackal. One of them thrust a piece of paper at her with the king’s seal. With trembling hands, Bartlett took it and read:
Concerning Deputy Falconer Bartlett.
King’s Charge: Communing with a Known Beguiler While Engaged in the Act of Treasonous Personation and Facilitating Escape of Another Known Beguiler.
King’s Verdict: Guilty.
King’s Sentence: Life imprisonment.
Bartlett had to read it twice before she understood it. “But that’s not true!” she protested. “I tried to stop him! Who told the king these lies?” But even as she asked the question, Bartlett knew the answer. “It was that little toad, that filthy owl pellet of a trainee Flyer, wasn’t it?” she yelled.