“Of course! Oh, that’s perfect!” cried Madeleine. “Alfie, the rustlers will be out tonight. We can stay in the tree house and keep watch for them.”
“You still want to do that?” asked Alfie in surprise. “After what happened to Mrs Emmett?”
“Yes,” said Robin, firmly. “Especially after what happened to Mrs Emmett. She was awful, but we owe it to her to find out exactly who did that to her. We’ll be safe if we just stay in the tree house. We can take pictures and pass them on to the police.”
Alfie felt very proud of his cousins at that moment. They were prepared to lie in wait for dangerous criminals. All for a woman that had earned them a telling-off for nearly every week of their lives.
“We should ask Artan if he wants to join us,” he said with a smile. “He could help scout the area. I’m sure he’d enjoy the adventure.”
“Brilliant plan!” said Robin. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”
That night, Alfie sat in the tree house with his cousins, laying careful plans. Granny and his dad were staying over after the party and it seemed an age before the lights in the farmhouse kitchen finally went out as the adults headed up to bed.
“Right, let’s set up.”
He wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and climbed up to the lookout, followed by the twins. The lanterns hanging through the branches of the trees looked beautiful in the darkness, but Robin switched them off to make the trees less conspicuous.
Robin set his telescope and camera in front of the window that faced the cattle shed. Alfie blew a few blasts on the whistle to summon Artan. The bear had told him that the whistle would work from anywhere, but he still wasn’t sure how that was possible from a mile away. He realized he needn’t have worried when there was a loud floomph from the roof. Artan’s large fuzzy head appeared upside-down in one of the windows. “Halloo, young ones. May I join you in your sylvan abode?”
“He means the tree house,” said Robin, unable to resist translating. Alfie pulled Artan through the window and helped him prop himself up over a stool. The bear lay with his head on his front paws as Alfie told him about the stake-out.
“No one steals from my friends,” he roared. “We’ll hunt them down! We’ll chase them into the—”
“Shushhhh!” Alfie clamped his hands around the bear’s snout and pointed towards the farmhouse. “You’ll wake everyone up.”
“Sorry!” whispered Artan as quietly as he could manage, which was still quite loud.
Robin had figured out that the animals were always taken between two and four o’clock. To kill time he had brought a board game he had made himself: Minotaur’s Labyrinth. Alfie chose to play as the minotaur while Robin and Madeleine played as Greek heroes. Artan had taken up a lookout position on the roof. Alfie enjoyed hearing the occasional contented moo from the cattle shed as they played several games, swapping the role of the minotaur each time.
“Well that was rubbish,” said Madeleine, flipping the board as she lost for the third time in a row. “This is why computer games got invented.”
Robin’s watch beeped to let them know it was two o’clock.
Alfie was starting to feel cramped in the lookout. “Just popping upstairs for a bit.” He clambered outside before Robin could protest, hoisting himself up on to the roof. He lay down on Artan’s furry back, resting his chin on the bear’s head. “See anything yet?”
“Nothing but bats.” Artan rippled a little as he sighed and turned his head towards the shadowy shape of the forest at the foot of the hills. “I remember when those trees spread for miles, across most of this farmland,” he said wistfully. “I don’t remember much, but I know that I was happy there.”
Alfie rolled on to his back and looked up through the branches at the night sky as a warm breeze rustled the leaves around him. It still amazed him that he could see so many stars in the countryside.
“Psssst! Alfie!” hissed Robin from below. “Eyes right.”
Alfie looked and saw headlights bobbing across a lane between fields about half a mile away. He zoomed in with his binoculars and described what he could see to his cousins.
“It’s an old army-style jeep pulling a horse trailer. There’s only one man in it. He’s wearing a flat cap, so I can’t see his face.”
“OK, false alarm,” Robin replied. “It’s just Jimmy’s dad. He went to pick up some horses from the Lake District after the party.”
Alfie watched Mr Feeney unload two horses then spend a while getting them settled in their new stable before heading into the house. Ten minutes later the lights went out, everything was still once again.
It was now half past three in the morning. Alfie was trying to decide whether or not he needed the toilet enough to make the climb down the tree. He had just about motivated himself when a huge dark shadow swooped down towards the Feeney Farm. He froze. Artan growled softly as it landed silently on top of the stables, paused for a moment, then took off and glided to the roofs of several other outbuildings. Slowly, Alfie reached down, his eyes fixed on the creature as he rapped gently on the side of the lookout.
“What is that?” whispered back Madeleine. “I can’t see to photograph it through the branches.”
Alfie strained to see through his binoculars but it was too dark. A minute later it was in the air again, sailing within a hundred yards of the trees. He could barely make out its shape, but it was easily as big as an elephant, with bat-like wings thesize of two hang-gliders. It landed silently on the roof of the barn where the sheep and goats were kept, folded its wings and settled there. What was it? He lay flat and perfectly still, praying it wouldn’t come anywhere near the trees.
“Hold on,” whispered Artan. “We’re going for a closer look.” Alfie’s stomach lurched, but before he could stop him, Artan had slid silently from the tree house, gliding low to the ground. As they drew close to the outbuildings, he flew upwards and landed silently on the steeply pitched roof of the bale shed. They both peered over the ridge at the creature, which seemed to be sniffing around on the roof of the barn, scenting the animals asleep below.
Alfie could just make out the silhouette of its spiny back against the starry night sky. A long whip-like tail snaked up from the roof, slowly swishing from side to side in the same way as Galileo’s when he was getting ready to pounce. At the moment it seemed too distracted by the food below to take notice of anything else. It began scratching at the plastic sheeting Uncle Herb had used to patch a hole in the roof. Soon it had torn away the plastic and was dipping its head down into the barn.
Alfie tried to push himself up a little higher with his toes, but only succeeded in dislodging one of the roof tiles. He desperately tried to hold on to it with the tip of his trainer, but it was made of heavy slate and slid away from him, clattering down the roof before getting caught on the moss. It was the loudest sound he had heard in his entire life.
When he could finally bear to open his eyes, the creature was still and alert, scanning the farmyard for the source of the noise. Alfie lay low, holding his breath as it turned towards the bale shed, then paused as if it knew he was there. Its tail began to swish again and caught the plastic sheeting it had torn up, knocking it down into the barn. The stillness was instantly broken by a goat bleating, and within seconds the whole barn was alive with baaing sheep and goats.
The creature stomped its frustration on the barn roof. Spreading its massive wings, it glared directly over at where Alfie hovered on Artan’s back. There was a deep snort and two balls of flame emerged from its nostrils as it reared up on its back legs. Alfie stared, frozen in terror as the beast was lit up in its entirety, bat-like wings held high against the sky. Flames glinted in its greenish coppery scales as it raised two enormous heads. Alfie stared in disbelief. The rustler and the creatures that had attacked them in the sky were the same thing: the giant two-headed dragon right in front of him.
He
needed to get as far away from it as he possibly could, but Artan seemed to know that it would give chase the second he took flight. As the light of the flame died away, someone in the house switched on the floodlights and the farmyard lit up as bright as day. The dragon let out a low hiss, beat its powerful wings twice and shot upwards into the night, the breeze nearly sweeping Artan from the roof. By the time the adults ran outside in their pyjamas it had disappeared from view.
“Quick, head to the trees,” Alfie hissed to the bear.
Artan launched himself into the air and swooped down to skim the grass by the oaks. Alfie leapt from his back and began to climb the tree, calling back to the bear, “Go back to the castle – I’ll see you tomorrow.” Artan had only just made himself scarce when Alfie’s dad and Aunt Grace ran towards the tree house, calling up to the children. Granny headed for the barn with Uncle Herb who was gripping his shotgun, ready to confront whatever was disturbing his sheep.
After half an hour helping to calm the animals and secure the barn and outhouses, Alfie was back in the farmhouse kitchen sharing tea and toast as Robin and Madeleine explained what they had seen.
“It was huge,” announced Madeleine, “with MASSIVE wings. It flew right over us to our barn. It was as big as a plane!”
“A very small plane,” Robin interrupted quickly. “It was really big though.”
Alfie had also seen his aunt and uncle glance at each other. It was obvious that the adults thought they were exaggerating.
“Could have been an eagle owl,” suggested his dad.
“True,” said Uncle Herb, rubbing his whiskers. “A friend of mine down in Dunsop Bridge said there’s a nesting pair not far from his farm.”
“We thought it might be a bird when we first saw it, but it really wasn’t!” insisted Madeleine as the conversation turned to how heavy a lamb an eagle owl could carry. “Alfie saw it, didn’t you? Tell them it wasn’t an owl.”
Everyone looked at Alfie. His mouth opened and closed uselessly as he tried to figure out what to say. Telling them that he had seen a two-headed dragon certainly wasn’t going to make Madeleine’s story any more convincing. He could hardly believe it himself, and he had seen it with his own eyes.
“Tell them what you saw, Alfie,” she pleaded. “He saw it up close. He flew over with Artan and they watched it from the roof of the bale shed.”
“Flew?” smiled Aunt Grace, pulling Madeleine on to her knee. “And who is Artan, Pumpkin?” Alfie groaned inwardly as he realized what was about to happen.
“He’s Alfie’s flying bear,” said Madeleine looking up at the adults who were starting to smile. “He’s not a live bear – he’s a bearskin rug,” she added as her mother began to laugh. “It’s true! Stop laughing at me! He flew Alfie over to look at the thing on the roof. It wasn’t an eagle owl, was it, Robin? We’ve seen it before – it chased us on the way back from London. It was a dragon, I’m sure it was!”
Alfie felt helpless as everyone collapsed into full-blown laughter.
“Isn’t that the story in Alfie’s comic?” asked Aunt Grace. “Is this a preview of the next issue? I wish you were this dedicated to your homework.”
Madeleine looked at Alfie and Robin tearfully. Alfie still couldn’t think of a single word to help her. He wasn’t going to tell them about Artan – he’d never be allowed to fly again. He raised his hands helplessly as Madeleine pushed her way out of her mother’s arms and ran out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. As the adults wiped their eyes and tried to stop laughing, he heard Madeleine scream in anger and stomp upstairs to her room.
“Well it’s been quite a birthday this year,” said Granny, getting up and planting a kiss on each of the boys’ foreheads. “I hope you two weren’t trying to frighten Madeleine out there. I’d have been scared to see a bird that size at night, never mind a dragon.”
The tree house was off-limits for the rest of the night, so Alfie was back in the top bunk bed in Robin’s room. As Uncle Herb began to snore in the bedroom next door, he leant over the edge of his mattress to whisper down to Robin about the dragon on the barn.
“It’s just … unbelievable,” said Robin. “That’s really what chased us. A dragon. I mean, I’ve read stories about them that say they died out or were killed by knights, but I never thought they really existed! Where do you think this one came from?”
“Don’t ask me,” said Alfie. “But remember Granny told us that animals have been disappearing from this area since before her granddad’s time? What if it has always nested around here, coming out to steal animals every new moon?”
“For hundreds of years,” whispered Robin. “It must have hidden itself well. Why do you think it’s being more reckless now?”
“What do you mean?” asked Alfie.
“No one has ever seen any sign of it before, right? It seems weird that we’ve encountered it twice since the castle reopened and you arrived back in Hexbridge with Orin’s magic.”
Alfie chewed his lip. Could Robin be right? Dragons were supposed to be magical creatures. Had it sensed the magic inside him that night in the sky, or was it the castle itself that it was interested in? “Do you think Maddie is asleep? Should we go and tell her?”
“Are you kidding?” asked Robin incredulously. “I’d rather face the dragon! We’ll be lucky if she speaks to us again this year, never mind tonight.”
Alfie barely heard his cousin; a terrible image had popped into his head that kept him awake long after Robin had drifted off to sleep. As Alfie lay in the top bunk staring up at the ceiling, all he could think about was the blackened patch of earth where they had found Mrs Emmett’s melted glass eye…
Robin was right. The next morning Madeleine disappeared to visit Holly. Alfie didn’t see her until the following morning at school, where she stayed well away from him and Robin. This continued for the entire week.
“I’m done trying to apologize,” said Robin in frustration as Madeleine passed them in the corridor, turning her head sharply to avoid looking at them. An embarrassed Holly shot them an apologetic glance as she hurried along behind her. “What did she expect? We couldn’t get a clear picture. How could we back her up with no evidence?”
“What’s bothering me is that we can’t even do anything about it,” said Alfie. “You saw how they all reacted to Madeleine. Imagine if we called the army to tell them there’s a dragon loose in Hexbridge!” He twirled his finger by his temple, then stopped as a thought hit him. “It’s half-term and my birthday next week. What if she’s still upset with us?” They’d planned to explore the castle cellars during the holidays. He couldn’t imagine Madeleine not joining them.
“Don’t worry – the village festival starts on your birthday,” said Robin. “She loves that. She’s bound to come round before then.”
By the start of the holiday, Madeleine was still determinedly avoiding them. Alfie was worried. It really seemed as though she was never going to speak to him again. Robin came up to the castle to visit Alfie on the first night of half-term and told him that Madeleine had moved into the spare room of Granny’s cottage.
“She told Mum she needed to be there all week to help Granny with festival duties. Well, she can stay there for ever for all I care. I’m staying here.”
Alfie didn’t mind having Robin around at the castle as he seemed quite happy to amuse himself reading in the library. He was obviously planning on sticking around for a while as he had already moved some of his things into the room Alfie had given him.
On the second day of half-term they spent the morning down at the lake with Alfie’s dad. He had been inspired by the da Vinci replicas he had seen in Caspian Bone’s office and was trying to recreate some of the artist’s inventions, starting with two huge pairs of boat-like shoes designed for walking on water. What Alfie thought was going to be a relaxing morning fishing turned into a very wet few hours testing the shoes. His da
d had supplied each of them with two ski poles with floats on the bottom to help them balance.
“It’s easy,” Alfie heard his dad shout from the shore as his feet shot out from under him, dunking him into the lake for the third time. “Just walk across the surface of the water.”
“If it’s so easy, why don’t you try it?” spluttered Alfie as he tried to stand up.
“I would,” replied his dad, tapping the video camera he was using to record their progress. “But I need to observe the strengths and weaknesses of the design.”
Alfie thought that the design had more weaknesses than strengths as he wobbled around with Robin. The most either of them could manage was five steps before falling face first into the water.
Just as he was about to plead with his dad to end the torture, Ashford turned up with warm towels and a hamper of food. Alfie sat draped in his towel eating a steaming freshly baked pie as his dad showed Robin the footage of their disastrous attempts to walk on water in the camera’s viewfinder. Alfie turned to grab a napkin from the hamper and noticed a lone figure high on the riverbank. It disappeared almost as soon as he looked, but not before he recognized Madeleine’s red jacket.
Ashford took that evening off. He had taken a few days and nights off since starting work at the castle. Alfie wondered where he went on those occasions. He still knew very little about Ashford, and the butler seemed determined to keep it that way, avoiding any personal questions. With no one to make dinner, Alfie’s dad ordered pizza before disappearing into his workshop to improve his designs. Alfie was quite relieved Robin wouldn’t get to experience his dad’s bizarre cooking.
After they’d eaten, Alfie led his cousin down from the kitchens to the levels below. He had decided that tonight they would make a start on exploring the cellars.
At the bottom, Alfie flicked a large brass switch and the torches on the walls flared to life, illuminating the undercroft’s vaulted ceilings and columns. He took one of the torches from the wall and looked around. This first chamber was the neatly stocked pantry. Jars of pickles, preserved fruits, chutneys and marinades filled the shelves, all labelled in Ashford’s perfect handwriting.
Alfie Bloom and the Secrets of Hexbridge Castle Page 10