by Susan Moore
This was for real. This wasn’t just another sparring session with Jamuka. As the pirate launched himself at her, she rolled to one side, leapt up and kicked him as hard as she could in the stomach.
With a loud grunt, the pirate lost his footing and went flying off the roof into the river below.
“Bravo, young lady,” sang the giant canoeist.
Nat gasped. “You’re a woman!”
Ikat revved the boat’s engines. He thrust them into reverse, getting as much distance between them and the pirate in the water as possible. Nat flew backwards, landing in the cockpit on a sopping-wet Peja, who had managed to clamber back on board.
“You are one kung fu jade babe. Ken would be proud,” said Wen, giving her a hand up.
“Good work!” shouted Ikat with a grin.
Nat smiled with relief. Her heart was hammering in her chest. It had been a close call.
“Arrest that man!” sang the enormous woman, hitting a top note.
She was standing on the roof, looking down into the cockpit, clutching her crate and pointing at the other pirate, who Peja had bound and gagged. “You snivelling orchid thief! He nearly got his hands on my Semper lucidias.”
“Doctor Fairlight,” said Ikat, nodding. “Trouble again.”
“You’re Doctor Fred Fairlight?” said Nat, taking in the bright-red cheeks under a shaggy mop of grey hair, and a pair of thick pebble glasses perched on the end of a big, knobbly nose.
Fred clambered off the roof. She towered over them like a big bear.
“Indeed I am. Very good to meet you,” she said, pumping Nat’s hand up and down. “Just call me Fred, please.”
“I’m Natalie Walker and this is my friend Wen Tang.”
“I’m Doctor Tang’s daughter,” said Wen.
Fred’s bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Amazing. How is your mother?”
“Very well. She sent us to find you.”
Fred lifted the top off the crate and produced a tall, spindly green plant with several jet-black flowers. “This is the most splendid specimen of Semper lucidias known to exist. Most exciting. I had to climb to the top of a tree to get it.” She lifted it up to the sky. “Up, up to the to-o-p…” she sang, scaling an octave.
Nat glanced over at Wen.
Wen winked. “Mad as a snake,” she whispered.
“Doctor Fairlight, we go Kuching?” said Ikat.
“Kuching? Goodness me, no, I must get back to my camp. Drop me off downriver at Nanga Gaat longhouse, please. But take that rascal,” she pointed to the pirate, “to the police station in Kuching. I’ll give you a written note for the police commissioner.”
“No,” said Nat. “Please, you must come to Kuching. Like Wen said, Doctor Tang told us to come and find you. You’re the only one who can help save the Clan.”
Fred looked up and blinked.
“Save the Clan?”
“In Mongolia,” said Wen.
“Tumen Vachir,” said Nat. “Have you ever heard of Marbolic?”
Fred let out a loud snort.
“Of course I know about Marbolic. It’s a terrible poison made from a fertiliser called Growemup. I told them before they had completed trials that the product was going to start an environmental disaster. Is that what’s happened?”
Between them Nat and Wen told Fred everything they knew while Ikat drove the boat downriver.
“Nanga Gaat longhouse,” he announced, pulling into a low wooden dock on the far bank.
Fred picked up her crate. “What a right old mess you’ve found yourselves in. I suggest you call the Mongolian army. It’s their job to clean up this sort of thing.”
“But Mum said if anyone could find the antidote, it’s you,” said Wen.
Fred nodded. “The problem is I’m extremely busy with my orchid studies. I’m on a very tight deadline to hand in my paper and I’ve still got several major experiments to conduct.”
“You’ve got to help save the Clan. Without an antidote they’ll die,” said Nat, no longer caring if she sounded panicked. “Please.”
Peja jumped on to the dock with the mooring rope.
“Quite impossible,” said Fred, packing away the orchid. “I’ll lose all my funding if I don’t complete my studies. As I said, try the army. They should be able to find out who’s using Growemup and put a stop to it. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
She stepped out on to the dock.
“How much funding will you get?” asked Wen.
“One hundred thousand US dollars,” said Fred.
“We’ll double it,” said Wen. “Triple it!”
Fred turned and blinked. “Look, girls, you couldn’t possibly come up with such a princely sum…”
“Have you heard of SPIN?” said Nat.
“Who?” said Fred.
“The Walker games company,” said Ikat, cutting the engines.
Nat nodded.
Wen held up three fingers. “Empire of the Shadow, Wand of Truth and Lavanter. Come on. You must have heard of SPIN’s top-three world-number-one games!”
Fred snorted. “That’s bounty indeed but your parents might not want to part with their hard-earned cash.”
Nat bit her lip. “They’re dead.”
“She’s an orphan,” said Wen.
Fred peered at Nat, her head cocked to one side.
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Very.” Nat nodded.
They stood in silence for a moment, the squawks and hum of the jungle closing in.
“Well, Miss Walker.” Fred’s mouth opened into a strange lopsided smile as if she was sucking a toffee. She headed back towards the boat. “What are we waiting for?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
CUSTODY
The Walkers were sitting in the kitchen slurping crab and noodle soup for supper. Prissy was in a sulk. She stirred her spoon noisily while across the table Henry stared into his bowl, his food untouched. He glanced anxiously at NutNut. His squirrel hadn’t made a sound since he’d sent Nat the video, and that was over three hours ago.
“Prissy, stop that,” snapped Aunt Vera, reaching across and snatching away Prissy’s spoon.
“It tastes disgusting,” said Prissy.
“Go to your room!” Aunt Vera pointed towards the door.
Prissy scraped her chair back slowly on the marble floor. Everybody winced. She grabbed her glitter cat robot off the table, stood up, turned on her high-heeled mules and clacked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Silence fell.
Uncle Fergal picked up his crystal tumbler and took a swig of whisky. “Got ourselves a real teenager, haven’t we?”
Vera pursed her lips. “I said she couldn’t have Candy over for a sleepover. The Brat is back tomorrow.”
Henry squeezed NutNut’s right ear to trigger his recording function. NutNut’s ears twitched.
Uncle Fergal nodded. “Did the papers arrive from the lawyer?”
Vera turned and picked up a large brown envelope from the shelf behind her. A sly smile spread across her lips.
“You’ll never have to work again.” She wafted the envelope tantalisingly beneath his nose.
Henry felt sick as he watched his father pull out a thick sheaf of typed white papers from the envelope.
“I have to hand it to you, Vera, you’ve pulled a rabbit out of a hat,” he said, flicking through them.
“It wasn’t easy. The only loophole we could find was to file for ‘abandonment by guardian’. Ah Wong has acted as witness to say that Jamuka abandoned Natalie without due care. It cost a bit, she’s a smart woman and she asked for a lot of money. I’ve told her I’ll pay her when we get guardianship and access to the SPIN fortune. I see it as a worthwhile expense.”
“And when do we get custody?”
“Jamuka isn’t here to fight our claim. Since we’re claiming it’s abandonment we only have to legally wait a week.” Vera clapped her hands together. “We’re going to be richer than we ev
er dreamed of.”
“And the Brat?”
“I’ve already spoken with the estate agent and briefed him to find us a house on the Peak. It must have a wing where she can be kept separately with an adjoining nanny’s room.”
Uncle Fergal nodded in agreement. “Very wise. We don’t want her becoming part of the family, do we?”
Henry felt like punching him. How could they be so greedy and horrible? Instead he bit his tongue and looked down at his bowl. He coughed loudly and made a spluttering sound.
“Not feeling too bright, eh, Henry?” said his father.
Henry slumped his shoulders and shook his head.
“We’d better get the boy to bed, Vera. He’s not touched his supper.”
Vera looked startled, as though she had forgotten that her son was at the table.
“Go to bed, Henry darling. We need you back on your feet to go house-hunting tomorrow, bright and early.”
Henry stood up from his chair and walked limply towards the door, leaving NutNut on the table, still recording.
“Darling, have you forgotten your manners?” called out Aunt Vera.
He looked up to see her pointing at her cheek. He felt as if he were kissing a poisonous snake.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
ALTAN
“Ai yah, the witch!” said Wen, when Henry’s recording had finished playing.
Tears streamed down Nat’s cheeks. How could Aunt Vera and Uncle Fergal be so cold and calculating?
Fizz leaned his head against her shoulder at the sound of her sniffing.
“We’ll find a way to stop them,” said Wen, offering her a tissue.
“In a week?” said Nat. “We don’t even know how to find Jamuka.”
“Call from Henry,” said Fizz.
“Take it,” said Nat.
He opened his wings to reveal Henry in his bedroom.
“I’m really sorry, Nat,” he said. “Mummy and Daddy are vile.”
Nat tried to smile as she wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.
“We’d better find Jamuka fast and stop them,” said Wen.
Henry nodded. “NutNut’s still searching for Borjigins but none of them come from the Clan.”
“Keep looking. We are too,” said Wen.
“Where are you?” said Henry.
“With Doctor Fairlight,” said Nat.
She angled Fizz to focus on Fred, who was reclining in her seat, fast asleep, snoring with her mouth wide open, exposing a row of higgledy-piggledy yellow teeth.
“She looks scary.”
“Mad as a hatter,” said Nat, back on screen. “But she knows all about Tumen Vachir and Marbolic, and we’ve got her to agree to come to Mongolia.”
“Ku!”
“But unless we find someone who knows where the Clan is, we’re stuck,” said Wen.
Henry leaned into camera. “I have to go. Mummy’s calling,” he whispered. “Bai.”
The screen went black.
“We’d better see how the robots are getting on then,” said Nat.
Fizz and Fu had contacted thousands of Borjigins, but with no luck. Wen was now fast asleep with Fu curled up on her lap. Fu’s nose was still twitching as she continued to search. Nat peeped under the curtain. It was pitch black outside as the boat slid past the riverbank. Before long they would be back in Kuching. How could they send Fred to Mongolia if they didn’t know how to find the Clan?
She rubbed her eyes.
“Fizz, call Jamuka.”
“Out of range. Leave message?”
“No, show Borjigin list.”
He opened his wings. She must have tried over a hundred times to reach Jamuka. What if he had been poisoned too? That was a question that ran through her head on a constant loop.
The endless list appeared on screen. She started to scroll down it. A flashing advertisement at the side of the screen caught her attention:
Taban Boarding School. A private educational institution in the heart of Ulan Bator, providing a home away from home for children of the Steppe.
If there weren’t any schools in the mountains, perhaps the Clan kids had to go to the city to learn? It was worth a try.
“Activate auto-translate and voice mask, Fizz. Use ‘old man’ voice modifier.”
His eyes flashed amber.
“Call Taban Boarding School, voice only.”
Fizz lowered his wings.
“Hello, Taban Boarding School,” answered a woman’s voice.
“Hello. My name is Jamuka Borjigin. I’m calling from the Hentii Mountains with an urgent message for all the students from our family in the region.”
There was a pause.
“One moment, please.”
Nat was put on hold. Her heartbeat quickened. She rehearsed what she should say next. The minutes ticked by. She wondered if she’d been forgotten when a boy’s voice came on the line. “Hello. I am Altan Borjigin, son of Tabin.”
Tabin? That sounded like a familiar name. She was sure Jamuka had mentioned him before. She switched off the voice modifier.
“Hai. This is Nat Walker. Listen, I’m a friend of Jamuka Borjigin.”
“Jamuka? He is my uncle. Is he OK?”
“The Clan and the wolves are very sick,” explained Nat. “Jamuka has gone to the Hentii Mountains to help them.”
She shook Wen awake.
“What’s up?” said Wen, bleary eyed.
Nat held her finger to her lips. She told Altan everything she knew.
“I must go to the Clan,” said Altan, the panic rising in his voice.
“You have to meet Doctor Fairlight at the airport and take her with you. I will book it now and call you right back.”
She ended the call.
“Not so fast,” sang out Fred, leaning across the aisle. “This expedition needs assistants and that’s you.” She jabbed a finger at Nat and Wen.
“But we have to get back to Hong Kong,” said Nat.
Fred shook her head. “That won’t do at all. You’re essential to the success of this mission. Besides, it’s bad luck to change crew midstream.”
“Ai yah! That’s impossible. My parents will lock me away for the rest of my life. I’ll never shop again, I’ll never see daylight…” said Wen.
Fred folded her arms across her chest. “You came to find me. Now I need you to help me solve the case.”
Nat’s mind was racing with possibilities. “If I go to Mongolia with Doctor Fairlight, I can find Jamuka and make him realise he has to come back in time to stop Aunt Vera.”
“I can tell the witch you’re staying on with us,” said Wen. “Our plan worked last time.”
Nat looked at her best friend. “You would?”
Wen took Nat’s hand and squeezed it. “I’ll cover for you.”
Fred snorted. “Well, I suppose one assistant is better than none.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ELIXIR
He closed the door. Kicking the snow off his boots, he walked over to the metal table and sat down. The walk uphill had left him breathless. Ever since the wind had started to gust, everything had become harder. The guards had spent the afternoon battening down the greenhouses while he had been inside checking the plants. If only the General had given him more time, they could have done all this in the summer when the conditions were ideal, not in the harsh winter when they had to battle to keep the heat and light working to make sure the plants bloomed.
He opened the bag and brought out two petals. One was large, the other small. It was the entire day’s harvest from the crop. Before he placed the first one under the microscope, he grabbed his bottle of airag and took a swig. The strong, sour fermented horse milk burned the back of his throat and its fire spread through his body. Two more chances to get it right. Two more days until the General came back. Results were expected if he wanted to get his money.
The scalpel severed five spider veins. One more and he was nearly there, the pattern complete. Just as he was about to tw
ist the blade around another vein, the door was flung open, letting in an icy blast of air. The blade slipped, tearing through the petal.
“Ugui!” he said, watching it wither and die.
He threw the scalpel across the table.
“General come tomorrow,” said the guard, standing in the doorway. “Be ready test weapon.”
Before he could reply, the guard slammed the door and disappeared.
Tomorrow?
He was meant to have another day. He took another swig of airag before picking up the last, small petal and placing it under the microscope. It took a few moments to focus right. Then he saw what he had been waiting for – a petal with only six spider veins.
He retrieved the scalpel, made the incision and drew a line straight down the petal. It split into two and from the split oozed a deep-red blood-like liquid. As he watched it spill across the glass slide, an evil, satisfied smile spread across his face.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
HOUSE-HUNTING
Aunt Vera was sitting in the sunroom sipping jasmine tea.
“Oh, just listen to this, Henry,” she said, patting her son’s hand.
The brochures from the estate agent had arrived and his mother was excitedly scanning through the luxury properties. Henry had little choice but to listen. He was under strict orders to get some light therapy in the sunroom. With no time to protest he had been frogmarched in his striped blue pyjamas and tucked up in a scratchy tartan rug on the sofa.
Sunlight spilled through the window, reflecting off the gilt-framed mirrors on the wall. Fake Ming vases stood on spindly tables. A silk rug covered the floor, on which stood fake pieces of Louis XIV furniture. Henry squinted, wishing he could go back to his dark cave of a bedroom – or better still be with Nat and Doctor Fairlight on their way to Mongolia.
“A majestic villa of historic significance nestled in its own private gardens on the Peak,” read Aunt Vera, her horn-rimmed reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose. “Sounds perfect.”