Born before his father, given craft and curse and hearth,
Upon the child born out of time, a burden placed at birth.
Once many sought the power he harbours deep within,
Many failed and many died, but still it drew them in.
“What is it?” asked Robin. Alfie put his finger to his lips and cupped his ear to show he was listening. As the voice died away, the second sister began to speak.
Others chase his secrets now and dream of what could be,
Their search is nearly at an end, tonight they hold the key.
As she stopped, the eldest woman began her verse.
Kin will stand close by his side, till memories become mist,
Though one foe will be vanquished, others yet exist.
Good will take up arms again, an age-old war to fight,
But inner battles must be fought when magic lends its might.
“That was weird,” said Madeleine as the three women turned back into inanimate carvings. Alfie felt everyone looking at him as he kept repeating the verses under his breath while he searched for something to write on.
“Is that what they said to you?” asked Madeleine, as he found a pen and scribbled down the words he had heard.
“I think this is most of it,” said Alfie finally, scratching his neck as he read the words and tried to work out what they meant. Reading the second sister’s poem, an icy feeling gripped his stomach. He began searching frantically through his robes.
“What is it?” asked Amy.
“The talisman,” cried Alfie in horror. “It’s gone!”
Alfie felt a little guilty that Amy spent the rest of her holiday in Hexbridge scouring the marketplace for the talisman with him, but he had to find it. Even Artan had insisted in joining in on the search, flying out in the middle of the night to scour the hillside and village square, under strict instruction not to let himself be seen. As they helped Granny pack away the last of the festival stalls, Alfie tried to fight the feeling that the talisman was lost for good.
Alfie’s dad drove Amy to the train station at the end of the week, singing along loudly to the Beatles as he drummed on the steering wheel. Alfie and Amy sat in the back seat holding a whispered conversation over the scrap of paper on to which Alfie had hastily scribbled down the Fates’ strange prophecy.
“That bit there,” whispered Amy. “‘Others chase his secrets now and dream of what could be. Their search is nearly at an end, tonight they hold the key.’ Didn’t you say the talisman was a key to the seal you and Robin found in the cellars? What if you didn’t lose it? Maybe someone stole it. Someone who wants to open that door!”
Alfie felt as though someone had tipped a bucket of icy water over him.
“What do you think is down there?” she asked, eyes wide. “Did you ask Caspian?”
Alfie shook his head. “No. And I can’t ask him now without telling him I’ve lost the key. What if he takes the castle back? I hated it in the city; I can’t go back to how things were there.” Amy raised an eyebrow. “I mean, of course I miss you,” he said quickly. “But you’re all I miss about living there. Things are so great here with Dad. It hasn’t been like this since before Mum died.” It felt as though his whole wonderful new life was on the verge of crumbling into dust.
At the station, Alfie found it even harder to say goodbye to his friend this time round.
“I hope you find it, Al,” said Amy as she climbed on board her train after promising to visit during the Christmas holidays.
“Me too,” said Alfie, but he was losing hope.
The teachers seemed much more relaxed than usual on the first day of school after half-term. During assembly, Miss Reynard announced that the headmistresses had decided to take their first holiday in twenty-five years. Alfie was sure she was trying to stop herself from joining in when everyone cheered at the top of their voices.
Over the next few weeks the whole atmosphere at Wyrmwald House was much lighter, but Alfie was too tired to appreciate it properly. He wasn’t sleeping well. Without the talisman he couldn’t even open the study again, and what if he got another letter from Orin but couldn’t read it? He even had dreams that the seal below the castle had been opened. Dark shadows were spilling out to drag him down into the earth and he couldn’t close it again without the talisman. It didn’t help that he kept imagining he could hear giant wings flapping around the castle. He had picked up the phone to call Caspian on three occasions, but the thought of losing the castle and the relationship he had with his dad made him put the phone down without dialling every time.
“I spoke to Artan last night,” Alfie told his cousins as they worked on algebra problems at the back of Mrs Boyd’s maths class. “He reminded me of something. When I was walking to the stage to be crowned, I tripped and nearly went flying, and Snitch grabbed my arm before I fell.”
“That doesn’t sound like her,” said Robin suspiciously.
“No way,” added Madeleine. “She’d love to see any of us fall flat on our faces. So why did she help you?”
“That’s what I was wondering. Artan said he saw Murkle stick out her foot and trip me in the first place. He thinks Snitch took the talisman when she pulled me up.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past them,” spat Madeleine.
“Amy thinks whoever took it probably knows it’s a key. Remember when they tried to steal plans of the castle from your library?”
“You think they know about the seal?” asked Robin, pretending to write something as Mrs Boyd passed their way.
“If they took it,” whispered Alfie. “And if they did, then they must know what’s down there.”
There was a cold silence as Robin and Madeleine stared at Alfie.
“No way,” said Madeleine, burying her head in her textbook as Mrs Boyd shot their table a warning glance. “No one has even been in the castle for hundreds of years. How could they know what’s down there?”
“I don’t know,” said Alfie. “But if Murkle and Snitch want it, it can’t be good!”
November crept by and still no sign of Murkle and Snitch. Alfie wondered what they were doing. Had they left for good, or were they hiding out in the wing of the school where they lived, plotting ways to sneak into the castle and get at whatever was hidden below the cellars? Artan had offered to fly him out at night to spy on the school, but over the last few weeks more and more animals had been disappearing from farms for miles around. It looked as though the dragon wasn’t even waiting for a new moon anymore – it was gorging itself every night, and Alfie didn’t want to be in the air at the same time as the beast.
Although Alfie tried to keep up a brave face in front of his dad, he no longer felt as happy and safe in his new home as when they first moved in. He felt like asking his dad if they could move in with Granny, or Aunt Grace and Uncle Herb, at least for a while. Caspian’s words kept ringing in his ears – if they ever stopped calling the castle home, it would be sealed for ever. Would that happen even if they left for a short while? Did he really want that, when his dad didn’t have to worry about money here, and had so much time to spend with him?
Alfie was now sure that he wasn’t imagining the great wings beating around the castle at night. As he dozed fitfully, he could almost feel the castle’s unease. It was alert, as if it knew what was out there. One night as he awoke for the third time, he couldn’t take it anymore. He raced out on to the battlements and shouted up at the cloudy moonless sky.
“What do you want? Just leave me alone!” The wind whipped his words away into the night sky, which was so cloudy that he couldn’t tell whether the shadow disappearing over the hills was real or imagined.
“Alfie?” called a voice from the courtyard just below. “Are you OK?” Ashford was standing on the cobbles, staring up at him concernedly. Alfie made his way down to the butler, briefly wondering what he was doi
ng fully dressed at three in the morning.
“You seem tormented,” said Ashford as he sat Alfie at the kitchen table and offered him hot chocolate and a plate of biscuits. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Just nightmares,” said Alfie, as he drank from the steaming mug.
“I’ve seen you searching for something with your cousins.” His eyes flickered briefly to Alfie’s neck then looked up, as if briefly scrutinizing his face. “Have you lost something? Is that why you can’t sleep?”
Alfie kept his face blank. Did Ashford know something about the talisman? “Why, have you found something?”
“No, but maybe I can help if you tell me what you are looking for and where you might have lost it.”
“That’s OK, it’s nothing important.” The butler seemed to know more than he was letting on and it was making Alfie uncomfortable. He got to his feet. “I’d better get back to sleep. Thanks for the hot chocolate.”
“My pleasure.” Ashford’s usual broad smile washed back over his face. “If there’s anything I can do, you know where to find me.”
Alfie darted back upstairs to bed. Until he found the talisman he couldn’t risk putting his trust in anyone – especially someone who seemed to be keeping secrets of their own.
At school, preparations for the play were well under way and Alfie tried to show some excitement about it. Miss Reynard and Mr Ramdhay had written a musical based on the adventures of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. All the main parts went to older pupils. First years were peasants, pages or servants with the exception of Alfie. As he was lending the school props from the castle, it was a unanimous decision that he take on the role of the young Arthur. It was only a small part as squire to Sir Kay, but he did have four words to say and would get to pull Excalibur out of the stone. Jimmy’s big brother, Cormac Feeney, would play the main part of the adult King Arthur. Alfie thought Madeleine seemed rather jealous of his role. He wasn’t surprised – she was playing serving girl number three and had to spend most of her stage time curtseying to boys.
With the performance only weeks away, Mr Ramdhay’s music and drama lessons had turned into rehearsals and Mrs Salvador’s art classes were taken up with scenery painting and prop making. Today the classes were back-to-back, and Alfie headed straight from rehearsals to the art class they shared with the second years. The art room felt like a medieval junkyard as they worked among castle walls, cardboard trees and papier-mâché helmets. Alfie was putting the finishing touches to a forest he was painting on the main backdrop when Holly bounced over, beaming.
“You’ll NEVER guess what I’ve just heard! Alice Popplethwaite just told me that Jenny Wheeler told her that Orla Feeney heard Murkle and Snitch got fired, so they stole all the school’s money and ran away to France!”
“Really…?” said Alfie, wondering whether or not to celebrate with Holly and Madeleine as they punched the air joyfully.
“Don’t believe a word my sister says,” said Jimmy. “She’s always making stuff up.” The two girls’ faces dropped.
“Well, at least they’re not here now,” said Alfie, going back to dotting yellow highlights on to his trees. “I’m pretending they went rafting, got swept out to sea and had to eat each other.” That sent everyone off making up their own reasons for the head teachers’ disappearance, each more gruesome than the last.
Jimmy was in the middle of pretending to be Miss Murkle stuck inside the stomach of a rhinoceros when he looked at his wrist and stopped. “Ah, pants!” He put up his hand to get the teachers attention. “Mrs Salvador! I left my watch backstage during rehearsals. Can I go get it?”
“OK, my dear, but be quick,” said Mrs Salvador as Jimmy raced off to the school hall. “Now everybody gather round so that we can admire your masterpieces.”
The class formed a semicircle around Mrs Salvador who began pointing out the dents, nicks and scratches on Ben Carter’s papier-mâché sword and shield. “Just look at the attention to detail. This shield looks as though it has seen many fierce battles.”
“Jimmy’s taking a long time,” whispered Robin as the teacher moved on to scenery. Alfie had just been thinking the same. Before he could answer, a shrill bell made everyone jump.
“OK, poppets, keep calm,” said Mrs Salvador as everyone covered their ears. “That’s the fire alarm. Leave your coats and bags, line up and follow me.”
“Miss, what about Jimmy?” asked Alfie as they followed her to the nearest fire exit.
“I’ll bet he’s already outside,” said Mrs Salvador. “I’m sure it’s just a drill, but we’ll call the register once everyone is out of the building.”
They were the first class to reach the playground and Jimmy was nowhere to be seen. Alfie looked out for him as the other classes arrived.
“Stop running!” shouted Miss Reynard as her class raced out of the school screaming.
“The hall is on fire!” shouted the boy leading the group. Two girls dashed out behind him, their eyes bright. “The school is burning down!” they yelled.
“Can you see Jimmy?” called Alfie, straining to be heard above the noise. “Did he come back from the hall?”
“He’s not here,” said Madeleine. “And that was the last class.”
“Miss!” Alfie called to Mrs Salvador. “Jimmy’s not here, miss.”
“I’m sure he is around, dear,” said Mrs Salvador as she flapped her arms in a futile attempt to herd everyone together. “I’ll do the register as soon as everyone is in line.” Alfie left her rushing around after his classmates who were running wildly around the playground. He tried to get the attention of another teacher, but they were too busy trying to calm the mob to hear him.
“I’m going to find him,” he said, heading back towards the school.
“No, Alfie, it could be dangerous,” said Robin, pulling him back by the sleeve.
“Mrs Salvador said it’s just a drill. They’re just being stupid – I bet there’s not really a fire.” He slipped out of his cousin’s grasp and motioned him back towards the group. “Cover for me when they call the register. I’ll see you back in class.” With that, he made the most of the chaos to sneak back into the school unseen.
Alfie’s pounding footsteps echoed back at him as he ran towards the school hall. He had never heard the place so quiet – there was always a hum of activity from the classrooms, even when the corridors were empty. He hadn’t really believed himself when he told Robin that there was nothing to be worried about. Nearing the school hall, he caught the smell of smoke and his fears were confirmed.
He swung open the doors to the hall and was hit by a wall of heat. A thick cloud of smoke billowed around him. Through it he could just make out orange flames licking up the stage curtains at the far end of the hall. “Jimmy!” he called over the crackling of the fire. “Are you there?” There was a loud crash as one of the lighting rigs fell from the ceiling on to the stage, splintering the floorboards. As the bulbs shattered he heard a yell from the wings of the stage.
Alfie stood frozen in the doorway, one foot still in the corridor as he frantically wondered what to do. The fire was spreading fast. If he went back to get the teachers they might not get to Jimmy in time. He took a deep breath as he made his decision. Tying his jumper around the lower part of his face, he grabbed a fire extinguisher and fought his way through the smoke calling out Jimmy’s name. A sudden sharp stab of pins and needles prickled all over his body as he dodged around the pools of flame that spattered the hall. What could have caused a fire like this?
The prickling sensation got worse as he climbed on to the stage. As a strip of burning curtain dropped in front of him, something thumped in his chest and he felt a painful jolt shoot down his arms into his hands, where white sparks crackled like electricity under his fingernails. It felt as though something inside him was trying to get out. Could it be the magic? Was it trying
to help him? He could almost feel it inside as he staggered on through the smoke: a churning power with a keen hunger.
“Jimmy!” he yelled again.
“Alfie!” called Jimmy’s voice from the wings. “Over here. I can’t get through the flames!”
“I’m trying to get to you,” called Alfie, following the noise of his friend coughing. “Try not to breathe the smoke!” He kept catching glimpses of Jimmy through the wall of flames – he was holding up a sheet of canvas to try and shield himself from the heat. Alfie reeled back as the flames flared higher, as if he was in the world’s largest oven. Another insistent jolt shot through his arms making his fingers tingle. “Stop it! I don’t know what you want me to do!” he shouted over a buzzing that sounded like a hive of bees inside his head.
“I’ve got a fire extinguisher,” he called to Jimmy. “I don’t think it’ll do much – so you’ve got to be ready to run,” he prayed Jimmy heard him as he pressed the trigger and staggered forwards, using the foam to clear a narrow path through the flames.
“OK, get ready,” he called as he battled to keep the route through the fire open. “Now, Jimmy, RUN!” As the last of foam dripped from the extinguisher, Jimmy burst through the flames with the canvas wrapped tightly around him. Alfie pulled him to his feet and they staggered from the stage, struggling to breathe as the thick smoke threatened to fill their lungs.
There was a loud crack above them. Alfie looked up as the curtain rail gave way and the heavy flaming stage curtains slid down towards them. He leapt off the stage, dragging Jimmy with him and rolling out the way as the vast blanket of burning velvet landed right behind them. Alfie screamed out in pain as his whole body jolted and the buzzing in his head became unbearable.
As Jimmy tried to pull him to his feet, the doors suddenly burst open. Men in face masks and helmets charged into the room calling instructions to each other as they arranged hoses and started to tackle the blaze. Before Alfie could even call out, he was picked up and thrown across the shoulder of a fireman who rushed him out of the building as steam and smoke billowed down the hallway behind them.
Alfie Bloom and the Secrets of Hexbridge Castle Page 13