by Robin Jarvis
“Of course, my Lord. Is everything prepared for the morrow?”
“Don’t you worry about that. Today I returned to the house in Felixstowe and made a certain arrangement. Tomorrow will be… spectacular.”
“Ho ho! I’m sure it will.”
“And what of our new friends? Are they settling in?”
“They’re getting a bit restless. They don’t like being cooped up in their chalet.”
The Ismus chuckled. “They’ll have the run of the place soon enough,” he said. “What’s one more day?”
“What indeed?”
“A transport will be there at five o’clock this morning to pick up tonight’s arrivals.”
“I shall attend to it.”
“Faithful Jangler.”
“Your humble servant.”
The Ismus hung up. The old man attended to the waxed tip of his moustache, then he lit a lantern, took up a brass handbell and went outside. He paused a moment at the cabin next to his and tapped lightly at the window.
“Not long now, Captain,” he said.
Nasal growls and snarls answered from within.
JODY AWOKE WITH a ferocious thirst. Her tongue felt furry and glued to the roof of her mouth. She stared at the cabin ceiling for several minutes, wondering where she was.
It was Charm’s outraged voice that reminded her.
“My stuff’s all over the floor again! This ain’t funny.”
Jody propped herself up. The inside of the chalet was just as untidy as the previous morning. Christina was sitting up in bed looking at her.
“You better?” the little girl asked. “You wasn’t well last night.”
“What’s gone on?” Jody muttered in a rasping voice.
None of the girls could remember much. They recalled running into the wood, but not much after that. Little by little they pieced together scraps of what had happened. But it was vague and uncertain. They wondered if they had imagined half of it. The only memory that they did seem sure about was the sight of Jangler striding through the darkness, holding a lantern in one hand and clanging a bell with the other. Not one of them knew a thing about what happened later. Hours after they had collapsed into their beds, the Bakelite device had started playing another old song from the 1930s. Before sunrise a transit van had taken the creatures that had crossed over this time out of the camp.
“I dunno how I got to bed,” Charm said. “Me mind’s a blank.”
If Jody had felt better, she would have made a sarcastic comment, but she was scratching her head and yawning.
“How’d I get so wasted?” she murmured. “I didn’t drink much – hardly anything.”
“Can’t believe I was fall-down drunk and there weren’t no paps to take a photo,” Charm said indignantly. “That would of made the Sundays that would, ‘Teenage model in booze shame’ – would of been awesome publicity. Could of got a sofa spot on breakfast telly out of it – or a cosy chat about my problem on This Morning. Me ma would love that.”
Jody grimaced. “Do you ever stop?” she complained. “Why do you even care about that twaddle if you think none of this is real and just a dream?”
“Cos the harder you try in your dream, the better time you have in Mooncaster. You don’t know nofink, you, do you? When I get there, it’s gonna be mind-blowing.”
“That’d only take an asthmatic wasp with a straw, for you,” Jody said. “Who says you’re gonna get there anyway? It’s our last day in this dump and it’s done no good to no one. Nobody’s been taken over by the book yet. Don’t seem likely it’s gonna work now, does it? You’re stuck in this dream like the rest of us.”
A worried look passed over Charm’s face and she took herself to the bathroom.
“Don’t be hours in there!” Jody shouted. “You’re not the only one here, you know!”
“Our last day,” Christina repeated sorrowfully.
Alasdair was already washed and dressed. He hurried outside and found Lee standing on the step of his cabin, staring at the cars that were pulling into the camp because there was no more parking room on the approach road. Colourful bunting had been added to the flower garlands between the wooden posts, a maypole was being erected in the centre of the lawn, swing boats were being unloaded from a lorry and, to the left of the stage, an old-fashioned helter-skelter was rising.
“More fun and frolics,” the Scot observed dourly. “So how’s the bonny wee world with you today?”
“You don’t wanna know. I’m in a real nasty mood. Woke up with a bruised right arm, no cigarettes and another day of this BS to get through.”
“Everyone else OK? My lads seem fine, a few headaches and our hut were a mess again. After last night though, I’m just relieved they’re in one piece.”
“Did you see cowboy kid? I had to drag him outta there. He was far gone – howled all the way back here.”
“What about Jim, is he OK?”
“That the quiet, serious guy? Yeah, he’s cool, don’t say much, why?”
“Just keep an eye out today. I dinnae think he’s too well.”
“Only today?”
“Well, we’re getting out of here tomorrow.”
“Ya think?”
Alasdair took a phone from his pocket. “Charged it up at last,” he said. “You can have my number.”
Lee shook his head. “Don’t think it’ll be necessary,” he answered, looking away.
Alasdair concealed his disappointment and changed the subject hastily.
“I fired off some emails last night, when we got back in. Told the news sites in America about them drugging us.”
“Won’t make no difference, too late for anyone to stop this now.”
“It might!”
“Even if they believed you, ain’t no one can stop this thing. It’s a cancer and it’s only gonna get bigger.”
“Did ye know there’s actually a protein called JAK that helps cancer cells spread through the body?”
“Not a bit surprised.”
Marcus was slow getting ready that morning. Unlike a lot of the others, his recollection of the night before was all too clear and it made him cringe. If he hadn’t been so hungry, he would have skipped breakfast completely. With the enthusiasm of a condemned man walking to the gallows, he made his way to the dining hall.
“Here he is!” Maggie’s voice called when he entered. “Mornin’, babes! I saved a seat next to me.”
Marcus looked at her coldly and gave the slightest acknowledging nod. Then he walked straight past and took his usual place on the other side of the model castle.
Maggie lowered her eyes and pushed her plate away. She understood.
By now everyone had heard they had been drugged and were hesitant about drinking the ale. Jody was furious and when Jangler appeared, she leaped up to yell at him.
“What’s all this?” he asked, beaming the most innocent of smiles. “Such fanciful notions! Dear me, as if I would sanction such a terrible thing. No tincture or potion was administered, I assure you. You were a trifle overwrought after the excitement of the day. That is all. Youthful high spirits – such exuberance is to be expected in this merry month. The wild woses of the woods will not be denied their rowdy play.”
Lee hissed through his teeth. Alasdair slammed the table.
“That’s a lie!” he said. “Everyone ’cept me an’ Lee was out their boxes last night. You was lucky no one got hurt.”
“Life is littered with mischance and stumbled steps,” Jangler replied icily. “We must daily thank our guiding fortune we do not fall prey to harm and hazard.”
“You threatening me?”
One half of Jangler’s moustache gave a twitch. “What a lurid imagination you possess,” he said. “So much the better for today. I guarantee that many of you, maybe even all, will finally be welcomed into the Realm of the Dawn Prince. The Holy Enchanter has decreed it will be so and, as the media will be present to record the wondrous event, may I suggest you don the agreeable costumes you w
ere wearing yesterday.”
Only Charm responded with any enthusiasm.
“Do be careful out there,” he added solemnly. “That jackanapes, the Jockey, has decided to show his tricksy face here, so be wary. Who knows what mischief and mayhem that marplot may cause?”
Leaving the dining hall to return to his organising duties, he paused a moment and looked back at his young charges. Inside one of them a fragment of his Lord was hiding. Jangler couldn’t resist wondering which one.
“No, I must not,” he told himself strictly. “I must treat each of them the same, bury my curiosity, file it away for now. At the appropriate hour, the Holy Enchanter will tell me, when he learns the identity of the Castle Creeper.”
Two hours later, the day was in full swing and rich in pageantry. There was a fairground atmosphere, with falconry displays, demonstrations of swordsmanship, jugglers and fire-eaters. There were double the amount of stalls and entertainments as Friday and even more people dressed as characters from the book; some were even rigged out in full armour. The Jacks and Jills were present once again and occupied four thrones on the raised stage. The Harlequin Priests and the three Black Face Dames stood silent and impassive behind them. Paparazzi and news crews swarmed everywhere.
Kate Kryzewski and Sam, her cameraman, were there. Above the waist, the reporter was dressed smartly in a navy jacket and pale blue blouse but below, just out of frame, she wore a ragged skirt sewn from patches of grubby cloth and she was barefoot. A tambourine with the image of a human ear printed on the skin hung from her belt. Every now and then she tapped it to make sure it was still there. If the Jockey made a nuisance of himself, she would shake it in his face and send him running. So far he had kept out of her way, and she had only glimpsed him skipping in and out of the crowd, dancing around the maypole, tangling the ribbons and causing chaos. That was pretty paltry mischief for him.
Kate and Sam had got a trove of footage yesterday at Great Ormond Street where sick children told how they were healthy and well in Mooncaster. A small boy in a wheelchair tearfully explained that he could run and play there and didn’t understand why he had to keep coming back to this painful dream.
Today Kate wanted to interview the aberrants and find out how their weekend was going. But the ones she encountered weren’t cooperative and their contributions would never get used in her report.
“It’s a total dead loss,” Jody muttered into the microphone. “Just like you are now. How much of a fight did you put up before they got you? So much for them promises you made in the coach the first day. Epic fail there, love. You look a right wazzock in that get-up. What’s it supposed to be – Cinderella meets the Apprentice?”
“Get that outta my face!” Lee snarled, pushing the camera away.
“Do ye know the old guy spiked our drinks last night?” Alasdair shouted into the lens. “I dinnae even trust the food here noo. God knows what else he’s been doing, but we keep wakin’ up wi’ bruises. What does that tell ye? What you gonna do about it?”
“I just want to get out of this hole,” Marcus said sulkily.
Kate and Sam moved on. They pushed through dancers and mummers, stilt-walkers and three people in a dragon costume blowing butane flames over everyone’s heads.
In spite of Jangler’s appeal, most of the children hadn’t bothered with their costumes today and those that did wore them mixed with their ordinary clothes. Spencer had replaced the baggy grey hose with jeans, but he retained the doublet. Topping it off was his Stetson. It made for an unusual combination.
“Er… I had a cool time yesterday,” he mumbled timidly. “Finally got to ride a horse. Made the whole weekend worthwhile. I’m going to see if I can have a go on some of those here today. I’d love to go to America. It’s my dream.”
Tommy and Rupesh came into focus next. The two of them had become firm friends over the past couple of days.
“We were scared of the werewolf,” Rupesh said hesitantly whilst Tommy whispered something into his ear. “But the other games we played yesterday were very nice. We don’t like that dragon over there.”
“The food here’s good,” Maggie said, forcing herself to be jolly when she felt the polar opposite. “And there’s tons of it. I could live here full time. Well, if a certain someone wasn’t around I would.”
Finally Kate and Sam found Charm. The Bolton-born model had taken extra care with her appearance that day. Her make-up was immaculate and the accents of pink ornamenting her medieval costume matched the handbag hanging from the crook of her arm. She had been practising what to say all morning, determined to outshine the others and get maximum airtime. The fifteen-year-old delivered the perfect interview. It was just the sort of upbeat filler Kate’s report needed.
“I am so, so grateful for the diamond opportunity I’ve been given,” the girl gushed like a contestant on a talent show final. “I’ve been on such a magical journey this weekend. It’s been a proper roller coaster of emotions, it really has, no word of a lie, no messin’. I’ve still got no idea how new this forest is though – looks dead old to me. I wish the Ismus fella was here. I’d fank him personally. He’s lovely, ain’t he? I feel dead safe when he’s about, cos he watches over us, don’t he? Like my Uncle Frank did, only more… bigger and magic, like one of them wizards, but dishy wiv it. Where is he anyway? His three bruisers are over there, but he ain’t here. They don’t go nowhere wivout him, do they? That’s well weird.”
As she spoke, they became aware of a remote whirring. Everyone looked to the sky. A helicopter was in the distance, bearing straight for the camp. The older children had grown to hate and fear that sound. There had been widespread use of helicopters by the police to hunt down anyone who resisted Dancing Jax. Passages from the book had been broadcast from on-board loudspeakers as searchlights scoured the streets below. There had been no escaping them.
As it drew closer, the crowd realised something was dangling beneath, on a long cable. It was a figure, clad in black.
“Ohhhh… Myyyyy… God!” Charm squealed. “It’s him, innit!”
Strapped into a safety harness, swooping over the forest with outstretched arms, the Holy Enchanter came flying. The tails of his short leather jacket flapped madly behind him and his shoulder-length hair streamed in the wind. The downdraught of the rotor blades flattened the treetops as he approached. It was as if even nature bowed down before him.
On the ground the crowd went wild. They cheered themselves hoarse. Hats and headdresses were hurled into the air. Old Scorch the dragon let rip with a fountain of flame and Jangler dropped his clipboard in astonishment. He hadn’t expected so dramatic and spectacular an entrance.
Sam’s camera was trained skyward. This was better than the arrival of any rock star at a stadium. The helicopter circled the campsite three times. When it positioned itself above the stage, the winch began to feed out the cable. The Ismus descended, to a triumphant blaring of trumpets, and he viewed his subjects with a benevolent smile. It was like the advent of a god among mortals.
“Crazy-assed psycho,” Lee muttered, almost in admiration.
Jody was too jaded and stubborn to let herself be impressed by this over-the-top, messianic spectacle.
“Macho poser,” she said bitterly. “His ego’s so massive it’d influence tides.”
At her side Christina could only gape as the man floated down from the sky, like an elegant spider on a thread.
“Little Miss Muffet,” she breathed softly.
“They’d never get me doing that!” Maggie exclaimed. “It wouldn’t get off the ground for one thing.”
Somewhere in the crowd Jim Parker was transfixed and his eyes were filled with envy. He was certain his own superpower would be immense strength, but he hoped and longed for the ability to fly. How else could he get to where he was needed in time? It was only reasonable for the two to go together. He watched the Ismus’s descent with the professional and critical interest of a rival. The boy’s right hand moved unconsciously to his
chest and he pressed it against the self-inflicted scar, while his left sought the reassuring touch of the cape he had donned over his T-shirt that morning.
Throughout his downward progress, the Ismus remained locked in a cruciform. It was supremely stylish and a strikingly potent image. He landed on the stage with such balletic grace Jim made up his mind that was how he would always land. No more thudding down on one knee for him; that had hurt like mad and it was still swollen. Perhaps the invulnerability aspect of his powers was the slowest to develop.
The crowd was going mental. They would have stampeded the stage if the Black Face Dames hadn’t stepped forward and blocked them. The Jacks and Jills almost leaped up to greet him, but the Harlequin Priests shook their heads and they remained seated. As the people roared and applauded, the Priests unfastened the harness and signalled to the pilot. The helicopter moved off. Once the noise of the blades had faded, the Holy Enchanter addressed his devoted flock.
“Blessed be to all who dwell within the thirteen hills!” he proclaimed.
This prompted more extended cheering.
“To all who faithfully await the return of the Dawn Prince from exile. To all who are gathered here today, to celebrate and rejoice in the hallowed text of Austerly Fellows – the visionary who opened the way to Mooncaster!”
Tommy and Rupesh covered their ears. The ovation was louder than the helicopter had been.
The Ismus raised his hands for silence and suddenly every voice was stilled. Only the sound of birdsong could be heard around the camp. He looked pleased as he surveyed the expectant, adoring faces. There were over six hundred people there.
During this suspenseful hush, Alasdair downed a goblet of wine, casting aside his suspicions about what else it may contain. He couldn’t begin to guess what that Russell Brand clone was about to do on the stage and quite frankly he’d had enough of this tiresome charade to care.
“The time to unlock the gates of Mooncaster for these poor, outcast children has come at last,” the Ismus announced with absolute authority. “Today they shall be admitted into the halls of the White Castle and look upon the worshipful Empty Throne in the Great Hall. It is my sacred duty and privilege to be the bearer of this most blessed invitation – from the Dawn Prince Himself!”