On a small desk under the window was a mortar and pestle, along with a number of silver implements for scooping and cutting. On the desk was a note, written in normal ink this time.
Dear Alfie,
Congratulations on finding my study. I hope you didn’t mind my little test. I knew that you would pass. In this room are many of my magical tools and notes, as well as artefacts and writings I have travelled far and wide to collect. I hope that they will be of interest to you, though I must ask that you don’t experiment with anything you don’t understand. Which leads me to the seal under the castle – Alfie’s breath caught in his throat – do not attempt to open it. Though it would require a secret incantation and many horses to lift it, no chances should be taken.
When you come of age at thirteen, I will offer you instruction in druidic philosophy and folk magic to help you appreciate these fruits of my lifelong quest for knowledge.
Your friend always,
Orin Hopcraft
“Aw, man! You inherit a castle and you get to learn from a wizard?” said Amy, giving him a shove. “Do you think it’ll be some kind of correspondence course? New letters and tests sent every week via this Caspian Bone bloke?”
“A druid, not a wizard,” said Alfie, barely registering the last part of the letter, his mind only on the trapdoor. He had thought the letter was going to tell him more about it, but all it had given him was a warning. Orin had called the door a seal. Didn’t seals keep things shut inside? What could be sealed beneath his castle?
“Alfie, where are you?” called a very distant voice.
“It’s Dad,” said Alfie. “Come on, before he finds this place. There’s no way he’d let me mess about with this stuff.” They shot back into the library and Alfie closed the entrance to the study only seconds before his dad opened the door. He made up his mind to visit again as soon as he had the chance.
On his birthday Alfie had more presents than he had seen in his life. His favourite was from his dad. He had been wondering about the hammering and sawing noises coming from the workshop for the last couple of weeks. All was revealed when he pulled a sheet off the strange structure that had appeared in the courtyard to discover a wooden raft perched atop plastic barrel floats. There was even a little tent shelter attached to it.
“I was going to give you a new improved pair of da Vinci’s boat shoes, but I thought you’d have more fun on the lake with this,” smiled his dad.
“It’s amazing!” said Alfie as he leapt onboard.
“You make the coolest presents, Mr B!” announced Amy. “Permission to come aboard, Captain Al?”
“Granted. Now swab these decks, Sailor Sui!”
Alfie’s dad headed off to the village after breakfast. Many of the adults in the village had been recruited by Granny to set up stalls and decorate the market square, so all of Alfie’s school friends were spending the day at the castle. Galileo the cat seemed very happy about the growing pile of wrapping paper and kept diving into it as Alfie opened gift after gift. He had a spy kit from Amy, a home-made board game from Robin and two high-power water pistols from Madeleine. When all the presents had been opened, they dragged the raft down to the lake and spent a very soggy morning taking turns to attack and defend it with the water pistols and a big bag of water balloons that Jimmy had brought along.
In the afternoon, Ashford set them to work decorating cakes for the festival. Alfie had partnered with Jimmy and was getting exasperated at the amount of chocolate that ended up in his friend’s mouth instead of on their cake.
Alfie noticed that Madeleine was acting a little strangely. She hadn’t spoken to him much since he had opened his presents.
“Is Maddie still upset with me?” he asked Robin.
“It’s not you. She thinks Amy’s amazing, probably because she’s from the city. She’s trying to act all cool in front of her. Don’t mention it, she’ll kill me.”
Madeleine’s unusual appearance suddenly made sense. She was wearing a purple T-shirt with skulls on it, black jeans with a silver chain hanging from the belt and there were purple extensions clipped into her carefully straightened hair. “Is she actually trying to dress like her?” asked Alfie.
“Yup. She had Holly spend an hour on her hair this morning.”
Madeleine obviously sensed someone was talking about her. She pulled a face at them and went back to icing little white skulls on to her cupcakes.
“Hey, I lived in the city too,” said Alfie, hitting Jimmy’s hand with a spatula as he reached for the chocolate again. “She doesn’t worship me.”
“Yeah, but you’re a geek.” Robin stirred some blue food colouring into his icing. “Amy’s cool.”
“Oh, I see,” Alfie grinned. “You luuurve her?”
He ducked quickly as a glob of blue icing sailed over his head.
As it was Halloween, everyone had brought their costumes. Ashford was already wearing his, a black suit and a raven mask with a long crooked beak. Alfie thought that it looked like a strange parody of Caspian Bone, almost as if the butler was poking fun at the solicitor with the costume. He wondered if there was some bad blood between the two.
Alfie still wasn’t sure what to dress up as. Most of the others were zombies, pirates or vampires. Madeleine’s costume was a bit more imaginative: she was Little Red Riding Hood wearing a wolf mask. Robin was a mad scientist and Jimmy was his lumbering creation. Amy had brought a black body suit with a glow-in-the-dark skeleton printed on it and was painting a skull on to her face to match.
“It’s a shame your friend Artan can’t come with us,” she said, carefully brushing black face paint into her eye sockets.”
“Ooh, yes,” said Madeleine, “he’d love it so much. Can’t he at least hide in a tree and watch?”
“Of course! You’re both brilliant.” Alfie suddenly realized that his costume had been obvious all along. He raced off to get ready.
That evening, Ashford led the procession of children down the hill. Alfie could sense everyone’s excitement as they snaked towards the village, pumpkin lanterns gently lighting the way. Jimmy gleefully told him this was the one day of the year when they could get away with staying up past midnight.
The main topic of conversation on the way was Alfie’s shaman costume. He had made a robe out of one of the ancient blankets from the cellar. A gnarled old broom handle had been transformed into a staff, but the crowning glory was his cape. A large bearskin was draped around his back, its claws hanging over his shoulders. Its head rested on top of Alfie’s like a hood, casting ominous shadows down on to his painted face.
“It’s as if it’s looking right at me,” gasped Holly. “You look so frightening!”
“Of course he does,” said Madeleine proudly. Alfie knew she was really talking about Artan.
Alfie loved Hexbridge village. It was full of old higgledy-piggledy streets and little houses with wooden beams, bulging walls and wonky windows. Tonight, the entire village was lit with pumpkins and twinkling strings of lights that hung between buildings and lamp posts. Lanterns glowed gently on every window sill around the crowded market square. Warm familiar smells drifted through the air: toffee apples, toasting pumpkin lids, hog roasts and cinnamon cider.
“Hey, Alfie!” called his dad, waving them over to the apple-bobbing barrels he had been put in charge of. “Great costume, son. I bet your furry friend hasn’t left the castle in centuries!” Alfie hoped that Artan was managing to keep a straight face.
Alfie had never been much good at apple bobbing, but neither was anyone else. Amy was the only one to grab an apple from the water with her teeth. Alfie’s turn didn’t last long. After a few seconds he stood up coughing and spluttering, so he was puzzled when everyone burst into applause.
“Very impressive, Alfie,” said his dad. “But I think that’s breaking the rules. You’re supposed to use your own mouth.”
; Amy snapped a picture as Alfie reached up in surprise to take an apple from between Artan’s teeth.
“Costumes don’t bob for apples!” he whispered when no one was listening.
“Sorry! Haven’t had an apple in years,” muttered the bear. “Although I don’t think I could stomach one now.” Alfie groaned at the terrible joke as they headed towards Gertie Entwhistle’s toffee apple and candyfloss stall.
“Don’t forget to vote for the Winter King,” Granny called as she bustled past with a wheelbarrow full of scrap wood for the bonfire in the centre of the square. “The crowning ceremony is at nine o’clock in the village hall.”
“What’s a Winter King?” Alfie asked his cousins, admiring Gertie Entwhistle’s zombie make-up and blood-spattered apron as he paid for their toffee apples (Gertie had an apron for every occasion).
“It’s a tradition,” said Madeleine. “We crown one every year. He’s like the town’s lucky mascot until we crown a queen in the summer. Miss Reynard said it’s been done for centuries.”
“Interesting necklace,” said Edward Snoddington as he strolled over with Hugo Pugsley. Both boys were dressed in tuxedos and capes with vampire teeth, and they clearly thought that they looked very sophisticated. “Of course, only new money would flash their gold around.”
Alfie looked down to see that the talisman had slipped out of his robe while he was apple bobbing.
“Hey, Noddy, Pug, love the matching outfits,” said Jimmy gleefully, earning a scowl from Edward and a shove from Hugo.
“Uh-oh! He shouldn’t have done that,” Robin whispered to Alfie.
Jimmy gave a yell and shoved Hugo back into Edward. Within seconds, a scuffle broke out between the three boys. Alfie was about to leap in and try to stop the fight when a shout from Amy broke the scrum apart. She was standing between the boys in a mantis-like fighting stance, her hands pointing like hooks towards Edward and Hugo as she fixed them with a cobra’s stare. Alfie grinned. The last time he had seen her do this was when Vinnie and Weggis had teased her about living with her gran. Her slightly raised leg twitched as though ready to strike at any moment.
The two boys looked at her for a moment then appeared to decide that they needed to be somewhere else. Alfie watched as they sauntered casually but quickly in the direction of Edward’s mother as she sailed between stalls wearing her usual look of disdain.
“That’s right, keep walking,” said Amy, following their movement with her hands.
“That was amazing!” said Madeleine looking at Amy in awe.
“Yes, very good,” said Alfie with a smirk. “But you can’t pull that act for ever. Maybe you should take some lessons before someone calls you on it?”
“No one has tested me yet,” said Amy, with a bow. “Anyway we’ve seen so many movies that I’m bound to be awesome. Kung Fu is a way of mind.”
Alfie rolled his eyes but couldn’t help laughing. As he tucked the talisman into his robes he felt a vibration on the top of his head – Artan was growling. He turned to see Murkle and Snitch at the next stall. They were staring at him, heads tilted thoughtfully. When they realized they had been spotted they did something very strange. They smiled.
“Calm down,” whispered Alfie, clasping Artan’s front paws in case the bear launched himself at them. “What’s got into you? They’re just the head teachers at my school.” Artan’s growl died away as the sisters melted back into the crowd. Alfie couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the way they had smiled with their mouths but not their sharp little eyes.
In the centre of the square was a ducking stool hanging over a pool of water. Mr Ramdhay was sitting on it mocking the poor aim of the children throwing bean-filled bags at a small target in the hope of dropping him into the water.
“I’d prefer to have a go at ducking Murkle and Snitch,” said Alfie after taking his turn.
“I’m not even sure why they’re here,” said Robin, watching the two headmistresses slide through the crowd glaring at anyone that brushed against them. “It’s not as though they even know how to have fun.”
There was a loud splash behind them and a cheer went up from the crowd. They turned to see Madeleine beaming with delight as a very wet Mr Ramdhay staggered out of the pool.
“At least one of you has a good arm!” he said, wiping water from his eyes. Unfortunately for her, Miss Reynard picked that exact moment to walk past, and she found herself in the middle of a crowd chanting for her to take Mr Ramdhay’s place. “I think I’ve been relieved of duty,” he said as he helped her climb on to the seat. “Don’t worry, they’re terrible shots.”
The village clock struck nine and everyone was ushered into the village hall. On the stage sat a throne made out of a hollowed-out oak stump. Granny stood next to it with a girl not much older than Alfie. He recognized her as one of Jimmy’s sisters, Orla. She was wearing a green dress and a wreath of silk flowers that kept slipping down over her eyes.
“As you know, the Samhain festival is one of our village’s oldest traditions,” announced Granny. “We celebrate the harvest, the end of summer and the coming of winter. Now, we have one final ceremony. We have counted your votes and our Winter King is…” she unfolded a piece of paper and laughed.
“Well this is very appropriate. For hundreds of years, Hexbridge castle has been uninhabited. It seems that nearly everyone believes its new owner should be crowned here tonight. Please rise for our Winter King, my grandson, Alfie Bloom!”
Alfie blushed beetroot red as everyone burst into applause and turned to look at him. As he sidestepped through the crowd towards the stage, his leg caught on something and he pitched forwards. He was very grateful to feel a pair of hands grab his shoulders before he fell over in front of everyone. “Thanks,” he whispered, then almost jumped with surprise to see his rescuer, Miss Snitch. She was wearing a very satisfied grin as she gave him a large pat on the back.
“Go take your throne … Your Highness.”
Alfie hurried towards the stage before Artan started growling again. He felt dwarfed by the oak throne as he took his seat in front of everyone.
“Orla Feeney, this year’s Summer Queen, will now crown the Winter King,” announced Granny as Jimmy’s sister stepped forward, pushing her flower crown out of her eyes. The winter crown was a circlet covered with overlapping gilded oak leaves. Gold holly leaves stood upright from it all the way around, making it look very regal. Orla placed the crown on top of Artan’s head and Alfie tried very hard not to pull away as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek to a final cheer from the crowd.
“Now, we dance!” said Granny. She clapped her hands and Mr Ramdhay took up his fiddle and led the band in a wild ceilidh reel.
Hours later, as they all staggered up the hill to the castle, Alfie announced that it was the best birthday he had ever had. As soon as the adults said goodnight and disappeared into the Great Hall, Artan floated down from Alfie’s back.
“Passengers, take your seats!”
Alfie and the twins laughed to see Amy whooping with delight as Artan flew them up the stairs and along the hallway.
“Thank you for a splendid evening,” the bear announced as they hopped off. “You all deserve my best bear hug.” With that he wrapped himself around them and squeezed so hard that Alfie couldn’t even groan at the pun. Artan flew back to his tower as the gang headed to the library.
“I love the smell of this room,” said Amy, taking a deep sniff. Alfie placed his crown on one of the carved griffins for safe keeping and headed for the secret door. He had promised the twins that they could see Orin Hopcraft’s study before bed.
Reaching the panelled wall, he heard a quiet click-clack-whirr, click-clack-whirr coming from above him. He looked up with a start to see that the carving of the Fates was moving. The noise was coming from their spinning wheel as they weaved, measured and snipped its threads. They all watched, transfixed as the little
figures began to sing without moving their lips.
We are the sisters Moirae, though some call us the Fates,
All that live succumb to us, before they pass the gates.
I am kindly Clotho, the youngest here by far,
I sit and spin the thread of life and sing of things that are.
I am fair Lachesis, by whom your lot is cast,
I measure out the thread of life and sing of what has passed.
I am feared Atropos, the one to whom all plea,
I cut the threads and seal your fate. I sing of what will be.
Many try to cheat us, but all are doomed to fail,
We favour neither men nor gods, and always we prevail.
The sisters finished their song and continued with their work. Alfie hesitantly reached up and waved his arm around in front of them. They seemed oblivious to the four children listening below.
“Have they spoken before?” asked Amy.
“No,” said Alfie, staring up at the carvings and wondering what was powering the wooden figures. “I’ve never even seen them move.”
“Maybe it’s an automaton,” said Robin. “Like that mechanical silver swan we saw at Bowes Museum last year.”
“I don’t think this is clockwork,” said Madeleine, balancing on a chair as she examined the carvings. “Besides, those voices were real.”
“I know this sounds weird,” said Amy, “but did anyone else feel as though they heard the voices in their heads, not their ears?”
Alfie realized Amy was right. It was as though the voices had been inside his head. When Orin’s letter mentioned the Fates, Alfie thought he had been talking about some form of divination. The druid must have actually spoken to these very carvings!
Robin started to say something but Alfie shushed him. The youngest of the three women had turned her head towards him and once again he heard her voice in his head.
Alfie Bloom and the Secrets of Hexbridge Castle Page 12