by Scott Monk
‘But the monster –’ Luke said.
‘Tut, tut, my boy. There shall be no more talk of such nonsense. Captain Cavalli briefed me on my way here and told me the threat is a hoax.’
‘Then why is everyone panicking?’ Samantha asked.
Pasquale greedily drank the iced tea. ‘Pacifico might be a city of art, but it is also a city of gossip. Even here, falsehoods are common sport. Nobles and travellers have been inundating the palace for the past hour, asking if this preposterous monster story is true. They even woke me up – before lunch! – the cheeky scoundrels.’
‘But Lady Isabelle –’
‘– has caused enough grief for one morning. Let’s not talk about this further. Not on an empty stomach anyway.’
Several footmen, including the lame servant normally assigned to Michael’s room, brought lunch to the table. With a hum, the Prime Minister lifted the lid off the nearest platter and breathed in the steam. ‘Mmm, pancakes! My favourite.’
And he wasn’t wrong. There were stacks and stacks of them: buttermilk pancakes, chocolate pancakes, straw berry pancakes, blueberry pancakes, black forest pancakes, cinnamon-apple pancakes, peanut butter pancakes, coconut pancakes, brandied apricot pancakes, banana upside-down pancakes and pancakes soaked in lemon syrup. They all smelt delicious. In a flurry of forks, Pasquale, Michael and Luke loaded their plates, while Samantha wanted to know if there was a healthier option.
‘Do you have something other than pancakes?’ she asked the lame footman.
He nodded and answered in a tetchy voice, ‘We have flapjacks, sir.’
‘No, that’s just another type of pancake.’
‘We have pikelets –’
‘So’s that.’
‘Crepes –’
‘Ditto.’
The man cleared his throat. ‘Well, sir, I guess there’s always a blintz.’
‘What’s that?’
‘A sugary batter fried thinly in a pan covered –’
‘Another pancake, right?’
The servant blinked. ‘Why, yes, very wise of you, sir.’
The cobra’s hood puffed out as she gripped the tablecloth. ‘I want some fruit. Do you have that?’
The footman looked at the older servants, but they were smart enough to ease out of the courtyard. ‘The chef cooks a ricotta crepe topped with slices of orange that –’
Everyone jumped as she slammed her fist on the table then leant towards the footman’s face. ‘So bring me the orange and leave behind the crepes. If you or the chef have a problem with that, I’ll go into that kitchen and show you both how to slice it, got it?’ She slapped her cutlass on the table.
The footman’s eyes narrowed.
Pasquale wasn’t as patient. ‘You heard our guest. Do as he says!’
Scowling, the tattooed footman bowed and hobbled towards the kitchen.
‘Ungrateful – the whole lot of them!’ the Prime Minister sniffed. ‘They come to our city poor and wretched, and out of kindness we give them shelter. And how do they repay us? With insolence! They should be thankful that we’re such a forgiving nation. Over the centuries their people have waged many a war on this fine city and killed plenty of our gallant young men. It’s only since we drove them back to their homeland once and for all that we’ve been able to usher in this new age of peace. You’d think they’d be better mannered when we have offered them so much hospitality.’
Luke wiped away caramel-walnut sauce dribbling down his chin. ‘Why are the Scorned so old, but you Pacificans so young?’ he asked.
‘Except yours truly,’ Pasquale said proudly.
‘Except for you.’
‘Why the same question has been on my mind about you three. I always imagined heroes from the Hall would be – dare I say it? – as old as they are wise.’
‘We, er –’
‘– age slower,’ Michael said.
‘Because we eat fruit,’ Samantha snapped.
‘And here I thought only Pacificans had discovered the fountain of youth. Well done, my friends. Well done.’
‘Have you?’ Michael asked. ‘I mean, is there really a fountain of youth?’
Pasquale reached for the maple syrup and flooded his second plate of pancakes. ‘To a degree, my boy,’ he winked. ‘The volcanic minerals in our water system – how shall I put it? – keep time at bay. They slow the ageing process and give us a youthful appearance.’
‘But not you?’
‘These wrinkles are the burden of office, I’m afraid. Leaders from other worlds prefer dealing with someone who looks a little older and a little wiser. It doesn’t stop them from asking me to bring a couple of elixirs of our mineral water for themselves and their wives, though.’
‘Then why are the Scorned older than everyone else?’ Luke pushed.
‘Because the mineral water is found only in Pacifico. They’re outsiders – islanders from the Thirteen Tribes who share our planet.’
‘But I heard there’s a ban on foreigners living here,’ Michael said.
‘Well, we’ve … er, recently suffered a shortage of labour. We need strong men to build our homes and women to clean them.’
Samantha bristled before Michael kicked her in the shins. Pasquale missed it, however, and waved over another footman. ‘Fetch some fans, would you? It’s an oven out here.’
‘No wonder,’ Michael said. ‘You’re wearing all those robes. Everyone here must be sweating in those heavy clothes – especially the ladies in their gowns.’
‘You wouldn’t catch me wearing one of those awful corsets,’ Samantha said.
Luke smirked. ‘If you were a girl.’
She shut up, realising her mistake. At the same moment, her lunch arrived – three oranges sliced open. ‘Thanks,’ she said to the footman, who answered with a none-too-impressed, ‘At your service.’
‘Why do you wear jewels in your cheeks?’ Michael asked.
‘Ah, vanity mostly,’ Pasquale said. ‘And courting if you’re young. But it’s also a status of nobility and family. The more jewels, the more respect you’re granted. I have four on each cheek as you can see, and Queen Oriana has five. Only royalty is granted such a privilege.’
A messenger handed him a parchment.
‘Good news,’ he said. ‘Speaking of Her Majesty, she will make an announcement shortly.’
‘Maybe they’ve caught the monster,’ Luke said.
‘I doubt that very much.’
‘You don’t believe it exists, do you?’
Pasquale laughed. ‘My boy, I’ve travelled to most of the Seven Worlds of Wonder and seen many an exotic creature. Nothing much surprises me anymore. But I’m quite certain no monster lurks in Pacifico – except maybe on the tongues of those who have drunk too much wine.’
‘Then what attacked us on the Broken Isles?’
‘Oh, come now. Surely the Hall of Heroes has real problems to deal with, rather than chasing myths and legends.’
‘But Nobleman Guido is missing,’ Michael said. ‘You should be organising a search party for him.’
‘Friends, I respect your concerns, but we cannot turn over a whole city for one noble. Plus, how can we hunt something that no one has seen, except yourselves – and even you can’t describe it. If such a creature does exist, you will have to spearhead its capture. Our young marines aren’t prepared for such a task. They’re peacekeepers – not soldiers. And only a small command at that.’
‘What?’ they all said at once.
‘If they’re not soldiers, then why do they carry pikes and swords?’ Luke asked.
‘Or patrol those giant statues of kings and queens?’ Samantha added.
‘Mr Pirate!’ Pasquale answered, waving his cutlery in astonishment. ‘I thought you of all people would have figured that out by now.’
‘What?’ she said.
He chomped theatrically with his yellowing teeth.
She recoiled, convinced he was mad.
‘Sharks! The skies are full of them!
White pointers. Hammerheads. Tigers. I dare not imagine what scandal would befall us if one of our guests was eaten because we didn’t have guards posted on our titans.’
‘You’re telling me sharks fly here as well?’
‘Oh yes. Thousands of them. Especially now, during the warmer months.’
The triplets searched the skies, drawing a chuckle from the Prime Minister.
They were interrupted by Luke’s glowing red visor curving across his eyes of its own accord.
‘What’s wrong?’ Michael asked.
A few taps on the wristpad revealed the problem. ‘There’s a light flashing EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION.’
More red light beamed from the earpiece, but this time straight on the table. Before them, a hologram of Queen Oriana sat on her royal throne.
‘Oh, how cute,’ Samantha said. ‘Just like a little Barbie doll.’
Michael kicked her shins again.
‘Shhh!’ Luke said.
‘– for this interruption, but I wish to address an issue that is long overdue,’ Queen Oriana began. ‘Unfortunately, some untruths are circulating about a wild animal, which reportedly lives in the Western Seas. Let me make my position clear: myself, my government and my Royal Marines aren’t privy to its existence, despite several exhaustive searches of the region. We will continue these investigations, but in the meantime we must not let fear overshadow common sense.
‘This morning, we had an unfortunate circumstance where one citizen believed a member of her family had been taken by this animal. Captain Cavalli of the Royal Marines has since assured me this is not the case. The missing brother left Pacifico on urgent business last night with the Jewellers’ Guild. He did not have time to inform anyone of his sudden departure, hence the confusion. He has since forwarded a message to his sister, explaining his haste.
‘So, my friends, be calm and clear-headed at all times. If you are worried about a loved one, then approach the Royal Marines first, so as not to create undue panic. Yours in peace, Queen Oriana.’
The hologram relooped to the beginning. ‘Apologies fellow citizens and guests of Pacifico for this interruption, but I wish to address –’
‘See,’ Pasquale said, munching on another pancake. ‘All fares well. Nobleman Guido is safe and well. Pacifico still rules the seas.’
Far beneath the city in a dungeon few citizens knew about and none had ever escaped, two shadows listened to Pasquale’s bold statement via a microphone hidden in the courtyard’s gardens.
‘Well done,’ the shorter shadow said, switching off an earpiece. ‘The Earth children are not only fooling themselves, but the city as well. As planned, their doom will inspire many to take up weapons.’
‘What of these swashbucklers who’ve arrived?’ the leader asked, coldly.
‘Mere swords-for-hire looking for one last adventure on the Broken Isles – and the one last reward that comes with it.’
The leader pondered this then twisted a hook on the dungeon’s wall to reveal a secret door. It opened into a tunnel. ‘We can use them to our advantage,’ he said, before stepping through.
‘And the monster? Shall it return tonight?’
‘Yes. The nobles are nervous, despite the Queen’s assurances. If Guido can be taken from his bed, then the others can expect plenty of restless nights.’
15
‘Hurry or they’ll catch us!’
The blips on Luke’s radar multiplied as the triplets fled along the streets, ducking under sunfish and zigzagging through outdoor cafes. They rushed across a footbridge, only to retreat when more people spotted them from the other side. Tourists shouted their names, and within seconds everyone swarmed. Trapped, they backed into an art studio then bolted out the rear door. They hurtled down a narrow alley filled with dripping washing and children kicking a football.
‘When will they leave us alone?’ Michael shouted.
‘Us?’ Samantha said. ‘They’re your fans – not ours.’
The crowd chased them past water acrobats, round a university and through a royal botanical garden. Most people fell away, but the holograph-hunters were relentless.
‘Enough running,’ Luke said, turning and grabbing Michael.
‘Hey, what are you doing?’
‘Let them follow us now.’
Luke fired his jetpack but Michael’s gold armour weighed too much. An urgent adjustment on his wristpad and – BOOM! – they blasted into the air. Thrill gripped them both in one giant rush as they rocketed out of reach, flying over terracotta roofs and church spires. Luke’s shoulders quickly began to ache with the strain and he felt his brother slipping. He powered towards a neighbouring island’s distinctive belltower and perched him there. It was round, ten storeys high, and every arched window featured the statue of a famous artist, musician or playwright. Michael kept watch as he waited for Luke to return with Samantha.
Pulling off his helmet, he scrubbed his sweaty hair free of its ponytail then leant against the statue of a lute player to marvel at the huge water tanker moored nearby. Pumps drained each of its six strange glass hulls, replenishing underground wells. Further along on a junk barge, a gang of Scorned children picked through a pyramid of discarded gowns, shoes, mattresses, toys, hand-crafted furniture, holographic broadcasters and rotten food before a marine chased them into the alleyways.
‘Remind me never to be famous,’ Samantha said, stomping down the tower’s spiralling steps.
‘Famous for what?’ Luke asked, rolling out of his superheated jetpack. ‘Beard rash?’
‘Cute considering the only irritating thing here is you.’
‘Hardy har-har. Remind me to drop you next time.’
They found Michael talking to himself, recounting the conversations at lunch. From behind him, a light sea breeze eased the sharpness of spring.
‘I know that look,’ she said, also removing her feathered hat. ‘Let me guess. You think Pasquale is hiding something.’
‘How’d you know?’
‘Hello? He is a politician.’ She drank from the canteen Luke handed her then added, ‘Remember back at our old school when the gardener found a snake and the teachers kept telling us there was nothing to worry about? But we all knew something was wrong because a lot of people were running around? Well, a lot of people at the palace looked fairly frantic over a monster that’s not supposed to exist.’
‘The Guido story is a lie. He didn’t suddenly leave in the middle of the night. No ship is allowed to travel to or from Pacifico between dusk and dawn.’
‘And don’t forget Guido’s bedroom was torn apart.’
‘Then why is Prime Minister Pasquale lying?’ Luke asked.
‘Is he?’ Samantha countered. ‘Or is it Captain Cavalli? Funny how at dinner last night he said the monster was just a story, even though we were nearly its lunch.’
‘Why keep it a secret?’
‘To keep the city from panicking?’ Michael offered.
‘Maybe it’s a cover-up,’ she said. ‘If people are going missing, Cavalli would be the first one blamed for poor security.’
This last suggestion killed the conversation. Unnerved, Michael stood and spied outside. He was surprised to see the lame palace footman, not dressed in his wig and royal-blue coat, but in beggar’s rags. He met with a worker unloading a cargo ship, checked no one was watching then received a sack of goods. Without any more fuss, he hobbled back into the streets, glancing over his shoulder.
‘Is that the same cranky footman outside your room?’ Luke asked beside him. ‘The pancake guy?’
Michael nodded.
‘Should we fly down there and stop him?’ Luke asked.
‘Not yet. Let’s just keep an eye on him. We’ve already got one mystery to solve.’
‘What mystery?’ Samantha asked, slightly annoyed.
‘Nobleman Guido’s disappearance. I should have listened to him. He kept pestering me at the banquet, but I ignored him. He seemed surprised that we’d found the monster. He also menti
oned the disappearance of someone called the Red Samurai. Does your electronic library have anything on him?’
‘I’ll check,’ Luke said.
A hologram burst from his earpiece, showing a warrior with a fold-up fan and a slashing sword.
‘Red Samurai,’ an electronic voice said in a professorial tone. ‘Humanoid. Male. Deputy Leader of the legendary Hall of Heroes. One of the few active members of the Universal Security Force, which has been in decline for the past decade –’
It listed his childhood, home planet and famous battles before Luke switched it off. ‘Don’t you think it’s a little weird that we found a samurai helmet in that rainforest?’
‘Yeah, it even looked like it had been in battle,’ Michael said.
‘So the monster took Nobleman Guido and this Red Samurai?’
‘And who knows how many more.’
‘So what are we going to do?’
‘Keep an eye on Captain Cavalli, Pasquale and’ – Michael looked outside again – ‘anyone else acting suspiciously. Maybe talk to Lady Isabelle and find out what she knows. Once we put the clues together, we can catch it.’
‘What?’ Samantha almost yelled. ‘Now you want to catch this monster?’
‘Think about it, Sam. It all makes sense now. Why else would Mr Goode Deed pick us to come here? He knew Pacifico was in trouble and needed someone to help. He gave us these costumes because people would respect the Gold Knight.’
‘Are you nuts? This monster is eating people – and you think we’re here to kill it? How? Keep running from it until it has a heart attack? Wake up to yourselves. We’re not here to hunt monsters. We’re not here to save Pacifico. We’re not even here to have fun. We’re here because some wacko wanted a laugh. The only ‘mystery’ that needs solving is our way home. End of story.’
‘Aw, c’mon, Sis,’ Luke said. ‘Surely even you must be getting a kick out of all this. Let’s catch this creature and go home. We can walk through the Knock-Knock Door at any old time.’
‘Really? Well, Mr Know-It-All, unlike you, I was paying attention at dinner last night and not stuffing my face. When Michael blabbed to the Queen that we’d taken the wrong door, she didn’t know what he meant. So I’ve been asking around myself and guess what? No one has ever heard of a Knock-Knock Door.’