She threw the rat onto the swinging cocoon.
‘Hey!’ said Granite. He jerked round. ‘Is that my rat? Blast you, Rat! Where’ve you been?’
The rat ignored him. He raced up to the top of the cocoon. He bit at the thin cord. He chewed and nibbled and gnawed, but Shane’s evil cobweb thread was too strong for him. He couldn’t cut it.
Shane watched the rat. He smiled. He licked his pearly teeth with his tongue. ‘Now and what sort of nasty little creature would that be?’ he said. ‘Seems it’s changed sides, Granite. It happens. Sure, it’s a nasty, dirty, spoiling thing, so it is.’
Shane took a smooth stone from his pocket. He rolled it in his fingers, as if admiring it. Suddenly he took aim.
Amy realised what he was going to do.
‘Don’t!’ she yelled. She leaped towards him.
Shane threw the pebble. It whizzed through the air. It hit the white rat squarely and sharply on his head.
The rat went still. A look of total, bemused surprise filled his eyes. Slowly, very slowly, he looked round the room, searching for Amy. He found her. Their eyes locked. He opened his mouth and gave the smallest squeak. ‘Oh, Rat!’ Amy cried.
The rat’s eyes, so full of sparkle a second before, blanked and went glassy. Before Amy could reach him, he fell backwards and toppled onto the floor.
‘Ahhh! You’ve killed him!’ Amy scooped the rat up. He was warm and limp. His tail lay across her wrist as lifeless as a strand of string. A tiny drop of blood coloured his perfect shell-pink nose. ‘Oh, Rat, my dear Rat.’
‘Killed, is it? Well, and am I surprised, d’you suppose? Wasn’t that just what I was aiming to do?’ Shane Annigan grinned at her. ‘I’ll have no interference from rodent beasties and girls the likes of you!’
‘I hate you. He was my friend. You pig! I—’
Suddenly a great whirling orange and red balloon of flame came hurtling out of the sky towards them. It hit the Crystal Crown with an ear-splitting crack.
‘Dragon fireballs!’ Shane Annigan yelled. He ducked behind Granite.
Amy heard a creaking noise, like ice cracking underfoot, as a criss-crossing, zigzagging line careered across the glass. The dome was cracking. Amy covered her head with her hands and peeped up.
The sky was blotted out by Boldly Seer’s pale underbelly and vast wings. She hovered above them. She sent more fireballs crashing and sparking over the glass. Gusts of purple smoke and showers of ashes rained down on them.
Suddenly the dragon swerved up, away. For one awful moment Amy thought that she was leaving, then she turned and flew back towards them. This time she approached the dome with her scaly legs extended, claws fanned out.
‘What’s it doing? Stop them, Shane!’ Granite said. ‘Do something!’
Boldly Seer landed on the top of the crystal. Her weight squashed the dome as if it were a rubber ball and its sides bulged. Minuscule cracks shot over it, covering every inch. Splinters tinkled to the floor.
The dragon rested on the apex for only a second while she grasped the top of the dome in her claws. She beat her wings strongly. She began to pull. The top of the dome came off. The two suspended bodies were still attached below. The dragon lifted it all.
Fantastic! Amy thought. As if it was a jampot lid, nothing but a jampot lid! ‘Go on, go on!’ she yelled. ‘Go!’
The walls of the dome collapsed in splinters around them.
The crystal was heavy. There were all the fine metal struts that made the dome as well as the glass, metal hooks and the bodies. Boldly Seer struggled. She flapped her wings hard. She snorted and puffed, trying to get away with her trophy.
‘Go, go!’ Amy urged her.
‘Be quiet!’ Shane snapped at her. He was as pale as marble. His eyes harder than diamonds.
Shane shot out his arm. He pointed up at Boldly Seer. A silvery thread flew from Shane’s fingers towards the dragon. It looked like a silver spear, or a shining needle as it streamed to her.
Zap! It hit Boldly Seer with a metallic sound. Immediately it wrapped itself around her leg, coiling round and round. The dragon jolted, arrested in mid-flight. She couldn’t see what had happened. She thrashed her wings, trying to rise, straining against the anchor that held her. But she couldn’t move.
She screamed. It was awful.
‘No, no. Poor Boldly. Don’t,’ begged Amy.
‘That dragon’s nothing but a scallywag, sure it’s not,’ Shane said lightly. He put both hands on the silvery line. Slowly, slowly, like a fisherman fishing the skies, he began to haul the dragon in. ‘Don’t they know there’s no messing with Shane Annigan, the man of the air? Don’t they? Dragon Destroyer. Copper Capturer!’ He laughed. ‘Sure!’ he called up at them, ‘And it’s the air is my element and these strands are stronger than gold. I have you now. You’ll never get away!’
Amy had seen and heard enough.
She leaped at Shane. She wrapped her arms round his neck and dragged on him with all her weight. ‘Stop it! Stop it!’
‘Don’t bother,’ drawled Granite. ‘Nothing brings down the man of the air – not even me.’
But he was wrong.
The moment Amy touched him, Shane jerked. He might have been struck by an electric current. His knees buckled and he collapsed.
‘Get off me! Get her away, Granite!’ He threw Amy aside. He crawled across the floor, keeping hold of the silver thread. He dragged himself to his feet to face her, holding out his arms to stop her. Amy ran at him again.
‘I hate you!’ she yelled.
She jumped at him. She had the two cobweb fabric pieces in her hands. She slapped them against his cheeks. She rubbed them all over his skin.
‘There!’ She pushed them through his pale hair. ‘There!’ His ears. ‘Take that!’ And eyes. ‘There!’
Shane screamed. He tottered as if his legs had snapped. He spun round, he fell. He crashed down amongst the broken glass.
The cobweb thread snapped with a loud twang.
Boldly Seer rose up like a newly-inflated balloon. Her wings pushed against the sky, she went higher and higher, carrying her passengers to safety. She flew and flew until she was soon no more than a dark dot in the blue sky.
It was suddenly very quiet. Fresh, icy mountain air swept around them now the walls of the Crystal Crown had crashed down.
‘Pleased with yourself?’ asked Granite. He was slumped on the bench. The wind lifted his rat’s tails of grey hair and whipped them around his face.
Amy picked up the white rat and cradled him. She kissed and kissed the little flat bit between his ears. She had nothing to say.
Shane startled them both by letting out a strange, long groan. It was followed by an ear-piercing, high-pitched whistle. It sounded like a kettle boiling a long way off.
‘I didn’t mean to,’ said Amy, glancing at him. ‘I just wanted to stop him.’
‘You’ve done that, I would say,’ said Granite, grimly. ‘More than I could do. The Will-o’-the-Wisps are a dangerous, shifty lot.’
‘But wasn’t he your friend?’
Granite shook his head. ‘I have no friends.’
Another terrible whistle screamed from Shane Annigan’s half-open mouth. This time it was accompanied by a sort of long sigh, like air escaping from a punctured tyre.
Shane was deflating.
His face lost substance, the way people’s faces do who’ve been ill for a very long time. But this happened in five minutes, not months. His hands withered until they looked like empty white gloves sticking out of his sleeves. His chest sank, his legs and arms went flat. His skull lay like silk on the ground. He was nothing, just a shell, like a skin wearing empty clothes. A wisp of cloudy air floated from his lips. Then nothing.
‘I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry,’ said Amy. She stroked Rat. ‘I’m glad too. It’s the best bit of spoiling I’ve ever done. He killed my rat. He was nasty.’
‘You’ve done me a favour, though I don’t suppose you want to hear that,’ chuckled Granite.
‘Shane bullied me into this. He wanted half my gold for his help. I wouldn’t have shared it with him, anyway. Not for nothing.’
‘Gold? Always it’s gold. Here, for you!’ Amy threw Copper’s knitted gold square at Granite. It sailed through the air as if it was a globule of syrup.
Granite snatched the knitting out of the air. He slithered it through his fingers. He laid it against his tattooed cheek. He kissed it.
‘It doesn’t hurt me,’ he said. ‘It makes me feel better. It puts a spring in my step. It lights up my life. It gives me strength.’
And Amy saw it was true. Granite was sitting up straighter. His black eyes burned with a greedy light. He smiled broadly.
‘It’s what the Twig made, isn’t it? I knew she could. Of course she could. Like Amber. Like her mother. Gorgeous. Awesome. Glorious gold!’
28
An Emerald Green Rat
Amy had a strong urge to run. So she did.
Down the spiral stairs, past the empty rooms. Past the hideous cross-eyed, hook-nosed, pointy-eared stone gargoyles, with their accusing eyes. Never again, she told herself. I’ll never, ever make them like that. Whatever Aunt Agnes says, I won’t do it. I’ll make nice statues if I have to make anything. I’ll do angels with sweet faces. Puppy dogs and fluffy cats and everything NICE!
No more spoiling.
She reached her room. She knew that she would have to leave it. Leave everything. My lovely chamber, my princess room, she thought, but who wants it? Not me, not now.
She laid the dead white rat out on her bedcover. She stroked his little paws. She wiped the blood gently from his nose.
‘I even spoiled you,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry. You were the best. Sweet rat dreams.’
She needed a coffin for him. The jewellery box was just the thing. She tipped the rings and necklaces out and placed the rat gently on the yellow velvet inside. She planned to give him a proper burial when she could. She packed a few things into a bag.
Amy went downstairs. There was no one about. Not even any Rockers. How was she going to get to the station and make her way home?
Then she heard footsteps. A female rockgoyle appeared from the Reception Chamber. Deception Chamber. That first rockgoyle had been right.
It was the female rockgoyle that Amy had given the blue cloak to. She knew it was because she was still wearing it.
‘What’s in that box?’ asked the rockgoyle. ‘Precious things I think, by the way you’re clutching it?’
‘Yes,’ said Amy. She undid the catch and opened the lid. ‘My rat. Shane Annigan killed my white rat.’
‘So I see. No name for the white rat, eh? We all deserve a name.’
‘I … I don’t – Oh, that’s another thing I’ve done wrong. I’m so hopeless! What’s your name?’
‘Petal. Does it suit me?’ She giggled. ‘You’re not hopeless, there’s always hope. Try your friend in the germinating compost.’
Amy stared at her. ‘But he’s dead.’
‘And the gargoyles were never alive!’ Petal grinned.
‘Oh, yes, that’s true …Will you come with me? I’m scared.’
Petal fingered her blue cloak and smiled. ‘Why not?’ They both took a lantern and made their way down to the underground caverns.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t nice to you,’ Amy said as she and the rockgoyle hurried along the corridors.
‘Good,’ said Petal. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t nice to you too. I’ve heard you’re not going to make any bad rockgoyles any more. I’m glad.’
They came to the room with the pond and lit the lanterns. Amy quickly took the white rat from the box and handed him to the rockgoyle. ‘You do it … Please.’
Petal took the limp body in her stubby, clawed fingers. She stroked his white snout. ‘Come back to us, Rat,’ she whispered. She settled him carefully in the net and let him sink into the green soupy mixture. ‘The rat might come out a bit different. You’ll be ready for that? The compost is very strong.’ She paused. ‘Can you bear that? What if he is as ugly as me, hey? The ugliest rat in the whole world, then what?’
‘I’ll still love him and he’ll still be my best friend,’ said Amy.
They stood side by side while Petal swung the net gently from side to side in the compost. The green liquid popped and exploded with smelly green gas.
‘Is anything happening? Is he coming back?’
‘Hush. Wait,’ said Petal.
Suddenly Petal snatched up the net and lifted it free. She turned to the sink and quickly ran a torrent of water over it.
‘What are you doing?’ cried Amy. ‘Is he all right?’ She pushed round Petal to get a look. ‘Rat? Rat? He isn’t moving. He’s gone green!’
The rat had been dyed emerald green. His nose had elongated into a very long snout and his tail curled like a corkscrew.
‘As green as the furzz trees!’ laughed Petal.
‘But is he alive?’ cried Amy. She snatched the rat up. He was limp in her hands. Then suddenly she felt a pulse begin to thump and his whiskers flickered.
‘Pss pss squeak!’ said the the rat. He opened his green eyes and grinned a green smile.
The ugly green rat crawled up Amy’s arm. He ducked his head beneath her chin and rubbed against her, purring.
‘Thank you, Petal,’ said Amy. ‘That’s the best thing anyone’s ever done for me. And he’s the best rat in the entire Universe.’
Petal led Amy back up to the ground floor. She took her to the sledge store. They chose a small, old sledge and dragged it out. Amy fastened her bags to it.
‘I shall be going downhill most of the way,’ said Amy. She tried to remember where the station was. ‘I’ll be fine on my own. I can pull it myself if I need to.’
‘Goodbye, Amethyst,’ said the rockgoyle. ‘I hope you find everything you deserve.’
Amy waved goodbye.
She gazed wistfully at the path that led towards the forest and Wolfgang’s hut. No, she thought. Not for me.
She went in the opposite direction, downhill towards the station. She felt sure she’d soon see the railway lines and then she would be sure to find the station.
Amy had made a little nest for the rat by turning her woolly hat upside down and wedging it on the sledge. The rat sat inside it, watching. He looked very comical being so green.
‘I’m going home again, Rat. Not rich. Not a princess. No longer a spoiler.’
‘Eeek.’
‘Yes, but I do have you, don’t I, Rat? And now I’ve thought of a name for you. Furzz. Like the trees that Boldly Seer eats. Do you like it?’
The rat purred.
They came to the first big slope. Amy perched on the sledge and whooshed down it. It was glorious. She loved the snow, she loved the white, the cold; she loved everything about the mountains.
And she had to leave.
‘Kwaark! Kwaark!’ She looked up. It was Casimir, the great snow seagull, flying straight towards her.
The bird circled round twice then swooped down and landed on her sledge. It eyed her sideways from its beady eyes. Its orange feet flip-flapped as it twirled round on the end of her sledge. It fluffed out its feathers and tucked in its wings. It didn’t look hostile. It looked positively friendly.
‘What is it?’ Amy said. ‘A message?’
Something like fizzy wine began to course through her veins. Something like hope, like happiness, sparkled and popped inside her. Could it be a message from Copper?
Dear, Dear Amy,
We are safely back at Squitcher’s village. It’s jolly jolly cold! Boldly Seer brought us. Questrid and Wolfgang are fine – it was a lie about the poison cobweb. Wolfgang is a bit cross because he’s got to walk all the way back and he says the wolves will be hungry and missing him.
Hope Casimir finds you.
Thank you for everything you did to help. You are a great friend. Please, please come back to Spindle House to us, or if that’s too Woody, the Rock. You’d love Ruby, and she’d love you. Amber says yo
u must come.
You’ll never find the station on your own.
Thank you for all you’ve done. I miss you already. Come soon. Love from your friend.
Copper. xxx
Amy kissed the green rat on his green nose.
The seagull rose up, spread his wings and set off for home. Amy turned the sledge round and followed him. He would lead her back to Spindle House and her friends.
She was going home too.
Amethyst Page 16