Lex Trent: Fighting With Fire

by Alex Bell

  Today, Saydi had cooled the rays of her sun enough that star-sleet fell softly from the sky. This was a special kind of sleet that only Saydi could produce. It sparkled silver like the stars, twinkling and shimmering as it fell, until finally it faded away like a dying glow-worm. It did not leave the skin wet, for it would not do for people to be uncomfortable and thus less able to appreciate Saydi’s beautiful handiwork. So, although Lex stood at the prow of his ship surrounded by falling star-sleet, he was not wet. The sleet broke apart when it touched his skin, fading away and leaving behind nothing more than a faint tingling. But the sleet did not disappear when it touched the cold volcanoes and they currently looked like they were covered in a silver, sparkling coat of star-frost.

  It was breathtakingly lovely, complemented by the calm dolphin-grey sea and the two-tone sky. It was bright blue where Lex had come from but, as they got nearer to the Edge, it became darker until it was a sort of velvet navy colour on this side of the Sea Volcanoes, melting into star-spangled black beyond them where the sky gave way to space.

  There was even a café built on stilts at the base of the volcanoes. After all, when a mysterious volcano range suddenly appears on the landscape and may erupt at any moment, what could be more natural than to build a café right there beside it? Actually, it only served tea and scones, so it was more of a teashop, really, than a café. And a ridiculously overpriced teashop at that. But why not? The Sea Volcanoes were, quite literally, at the edge of the world, which meant that only the very rich could come here. Lex knew the type: men with monocles and women who thought nothing said sophistication quite like a hat piled high with fruit.

  There was a little pier at the café only big enough for about four or five boats. One large tourist boat was moored there already but Lex could see no sign of Jeremiah’s boat, or Lorella’s − assuming that she was even coming by boat.

  Ha, he thought smugly to himself, even with the penalty round slowing him down he was still the first one here!

  He was early, in fact. The round wasn’t due to start until twelve noon and it was only just gone eleven o’clock. But it never hurt to scope out the surrounding area a bit first. Lady Luck had told him that the Sea Volcano teashop would be charging more than double what it usually charged because, today, its patrons would be having the honour of witnessing part of the Game first hand, and that was quite something even if it didn’t extend past seeing the players turn up.

  There were a lot of posh-looking people currently on the teashop’s veranda, sitting at the tables with their scones and tea, or else standing at the railings, gawking at Lex’s beautiful enchanted ship as it approached. Lex manoeuvred it into the pier and was gratified to see that all the toffs were on their feet by then, applauding him from the veranda. At least they were clapping this time rather than laughing. It boosted Lex’s confidence a little and almost made him think better of what he was about to do. Almost. When the ship came to a halt he gave them a sweeping bow and a wave before disappearing back inside. The ship was huge and he was confident that no one down on the pier would have seen his face too clearly from that distance, which was good because he wanted to have a little wander about down there without people being all over him.

  He went down to the enchanter’s wardrobe. When he’d first acquired the ship, the wardrobe had mostly been full of the tall, pointed hats the enchanters favoured, which had been very useful to Lex because it transpired that enchanters kept some of their magic in their hats, which meant that, when Lex put one on, he could perform a bit of magic, too. Of course, human minds weren’t built for magic and Lex put himself in terrible danger each time he used it. There had been a couple of rather horrible side effects and talk of brain haemorrhages and unpleasant things like that.

  Lex had therefore faithfully promised his brother, Lucius, that, no matter what happened during the course of this new Game, he would never put an enchanter’s hat on again. Lex hadn’t exactly been lying when he’d said that . . . but he’d only half meant it. He certainly meant to avoid the hats if he could help it but . . . if the situation was really desperate, to the point that he didn’t have anything to lose by trying, well, he certainly wasn’t going to rule the possibility out completely.

  Unfortunately, it seemed that Lucius had somehow sensed this proviso in his brother’s promise and, one night shortly before he left, Lex had woken up at about three o’clock in the morning to the sight of a huge fire flickering through his bedroom window. His first thought was that the fire-breathing rabbit he’d inadvertently let off the enchanter’s ship was now back. He leapt out of bed, dragged on some trousers and was still doing them up as he ran out into the house, screaming for Lucius and Zachary.

  ‘Wake up! Wake up! It’s back! The fire-breathing rabbit is back; the barn’s on fire!’

  He ran out of the house with Zachary moments behind him only to find that Lucius was already there. And it was not the barn that was on fire. It was a big bonfire of twenty or thirty enchanter’s hats, now blackened, shrivelled and ruined.

  Lex stared at the bonfire in silent, speechless horror for a long moment, vaguely aware of Zachary stomping into the house, back to his bed. Then he turned to stare at his twin who stood there with his arms folded and a grimly determined expression on his face.

  ‘What have you done?’ Lex croaked. ‘What have you done, you idiot?’

  ‘I knew it!’ Lucius replied, actually having the audacity to look hurt. ‘I knew you hadn’t meant what you said when you made that promise! That’s why I knew I had to get rid of the hats.’

  ‘You . . . you . . .’ For once in his life, Lex could hardly find the words to express himself. It wasn’t just that one of the most rare and powerful magical advantages he had was now lost, it was the fact that Lucius had taken it upon himself to go into Lex’s ship and destroy Lex’s things.

  ‘Those hats saved your life!’ he fumed, pointing at the smoking, blazing bonfire. ‘When you were sent down to the Lands Beneath, do you think in a million years that I would ever have been able to get you out if I hadn’t had one of those to get me there in the first place?’

  ‘You got yourself there but Lady Luck got us out,’ Lucius said, raising his chin stubbornly. ‘If you’d used that hat a second time you’d have killed yourself. I know you, Lex. Your definition of an emergency would have been losing a round. You wouldn’t have kept the hats just for matters of life or death. You’re more likely to kill yourself with those hats than you are to save yourself. That’s why I’m getting rid of them. Hate me if you like; I don’t care. You’re the only family I’ve got left and it’s bad enough that you’re playing in another one of those awful Games at all. I’m helping you.’

  Lex looked at his brother, firelight flickering over a face that was identical to his own despite the fact that the person behind it was so different. How could Lucius not understand? How could he not appreciate how important it was to win? How could the thought of losing to someone else not make him feel positively panic-stricken?

  Lex was strongly tempted, in that moment, to hit his brother for the first time in his life. But he clenched his fists and resisted the urge, contenting himself instead with snarling in a vicious tone, ‘Next time you “help me” I promise you’ll regret it! I won’t forget this, Lucius! Never!’

  And, exercising an impressive amount of self-control, Lex turned on his heel and stalked back into the house without slapping Lucius, or shoving him, or scratching his eyes out, or anything.

  So there were no longer any enchanted hats in the wardrobe on the ship. Lex nurtured some faint hope that one might turn up elsewhere at some point, for there were plenty of rooms he had not gone into yet and you never knew what might suddenly appear on this ship. But for now at least, he had a total lack of magic hats. He did, however, have a lot of different disguises in the wardrobe. He’d purchased them before he left because, as any thief or con man knows, disguises are very important. Not to mention ridiculously fun.

  Lex picked out
the Trent Lexington costume − a character first created when he’d been a relative newbie at robbing and scamming, and was practising pickpocketing in the Gaming stadiums. He’d realised that people were much less likely to suspect you were a petty thief if you looked like a posh twit. The costume therefore consisted of a daft-looking frock coat (with tails and everything), fine black trousers, a white shirt and cravat, a top hat, a pair of gloves and − most importantly of all − a stick with a shiny gold knob at the end. Oh, and a monocle. Lex had added the monocle only recently because he thought it might help with disguising his face if anyone were to think that he looked familiar. For starters, it magnified his right eye in rather a startling way whilst at the same time forcing him to squint with his left. Lex was extremely pleased with the effect because, as well as disguising his face, it also helped give him the sort of pained, constipated expression that one rather expected to see on a spoilt young nobleman.

  Lex was just admiring his reflection in the mirror when Jesse wandered into the room and visibly jumped at the sight of him. Then he realised it was only Lex and a smile crept over the cowboy’s face as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the doorframe. ‘And just where are you going in that get-up?’ he asked, eyebrow raised.

  ‘Just to have a little mingle in the teashop,’ Lex replied with a shrug. ‘You can stay here on the boat.’ Jesse looked like showing signs of protest but Lex cut him off before he could do so: ‘I’ll bring you back a scone. There’s no need for you to come; you’d stick out like a sore thumb and I want to blend in.’

  Jesse shrugged. ‘All righty. Guess I’ll just hang out here with the griffins then.’

  ‘Yes.’ Lex nodded. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  He walked out of the room and downstairs. He’d been a little worried that getting off the ship without being seen might pose a problem but it seemed it would not be too difficult because the toffs had all gone back to their tea after the ship had docked and they’d realised that it wasn’t going to be doing anything exciting for the time being. If there’s one thing you can absolutely rely upon remaining the same, it’s the love rich people have for their crumpets and scones.

  Just to be on the safe side, anyway, Lex opened the door on the side of the ship that faced away from the teashop. From there he was able to jump on to the tourist boat docked alongside and walk off its gangplank on to the harbour. If anyone saw him alighting from the boat they would merely think he was a young lord who had been taking a nap and no one had bothered to wake him up when they arrived. He plastered a miffed expression onto his face and then stalked on to the veranda, immediately adapting his Trent Lexington walk and mannerisms, head held so loftily high that he was practically viewing the scene through his nostrils. It had taken him a fair amount of practice to walk like that without losing his hat, for it had a tendency to topple off his head when he stuck his nose in the air, but he had mastered the knack eventually.

  ‘Ai simply can’t believe that you didn’t wake me up, Mama!’ Lex exclaimed in a loud, snotty voice to no one in particular as he walked through the veranda, thus creating the distinct impression that he was part of some unfortunate family there. Then he opened the door into the tearoom, walked in and said loudly to the room in general, ‘Ai say! Are you still serving elevenses or aren’t you?’

  ‘We are, sir—’ the server began but Lex cut him off.

  ‘Well, what does a fellow have to do to get some crumpets around heyah? Do you think this is acceptable?’

  ‘If you’d just place your order with me, sir, I will gladly—’

  ‘Oh, very well, very well,’ Lex said irritably, as if placing his order was a great inconvenience to him. ‘Ai want a pot of tea. And ai want crumpets.’

  ‘Butter or jam with the crumpets, sir?’

  Lex turned his head, looked directly at the server − who was not much older than he was − and affected an expression of utter horror. ‘Do people really eat jam with crumpets nowadays?’ he asked as if it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever heard of. ‘My heavens, you’ll be asking me if I want ham with crumpets next, I shouldn’t wonder. Butter, boy! I want butter, naturally.’

  ‘I’m very sorry, sir,’ the server replied, completely unaffected by Lex’s tantrum, thus proving that he must have worked at the Sea Volcanoes teashop a while now and so was accustomed to rudeness. ‘Would you like milk with your tea, sir?’

  ‘Yaas, naturally.’

  ‘I’ll bring it right out to you as soon as it’s ready.’

  ‘Very well.’

  Lex turned and walked back to the door, managing to collide with someone who was coming through it from the other side. It was a woman with a silly hat and an expression that indicated she’d just been drinking cups of vinegar outside rather than tea. She also looked rather like she might have been crying in the not-too-distant past.

  ‘Watch where you’re going, young man, really!’ she said huffily.

  ‘Ai’m very sorry, madam,’ Lex apologised in his best sulky voice. As he walked out to the veranda he could hear the woman berating the server for the fact that there hadn’t been enough butter on her crumpets. He grinned inwardly at the heavy weight of her purse, now stowed away inside his pocket.

  He’d wanted to come to the teashop partly because it seemed rather a shame to come all the way to the Sea Volcanoes and not sample crumpets at its famous teashop (even if he did have to wait until he was back on the ship with Jesse before he could enjoy them), but mostly he’d wanted to come for a little sport. Lex had moved on from petty pickpocketing. His crimes were more sophisticated than that now. But he still liked to keep his hand in every once in a while, just to reassure himself that he hadn’t forgotten how. Of course, this was hardly a sensible time for thieving right when the Game was about to begin and he’d been in prison and threatened with disqualification once already. But a teashop just stuffed full of toffs like this . . . Well, expecting Lex not to try to rob them would be like expecting a wolf not to go after a paddock full of fat, stupid sheep who were all bleating at it in a distinctly taunting sort of way.

  The veranda commanded a spectacular view of the Sea Volcanoes rising up out of the water and there were twisting black rails all the way around the perimeter to stop rich fools from walking straight into the sea. The tables were placed at a spacious distance from one another and covered in crisp, spotless white tablecloths on which stood silver teapots and plates of scones and crumpets.

  Lex surreptitiously eyed the tables, chose a likely looking one with only two men already seated, walked up to it and sat down before saying, ‘Do you mind if ai sit here? Ai’m waiting for my elevenses but ai’m afraid ai’ve just had the most devilishly trying time of it with that fool server in there.’

  ‘It’s like I was just saying, isn’t it, Forsythe?’ boomed the man to Lex’s right. ‘You can’t get the staff these days.’

  ‘You’re quite right, Easty, quite right.’

  ‘Easty?’ Lex blurted, looking up sharply. ‘Are you, by any chance—?’

  ‘That’s right. Humphrey East. My boy, Jeremiah is playing in the Game,’ the man said, practically swelling with pride where he sat.

  Lex had to force himself not to goggle at him in sheer disbelief. Now that he looked at him more closely, he could see that there was a slight resemblance. They both had the same dark hair and haughty look, although Jeremiah’s father was getting on for being a bit on the rotund side − too many hours spent lounging in fine armchairs, enjoying expensive brandy, had ruined what had probably once been an impressive figure. Lex supposed it made sense that Jeremiah’s father would be here at the commencement of the first round. After all, the Easts obviously had more money than sense and so could easily afford to shell out for this little tea party in order to gloat over the first-born son. And if Lex couldn’t find some way to turn this to his advantage, then he wasn’t half the talented cheat he thought he was.

  ‘Mey name is Trent Lexington III − of the Galswi
ck Lexingtons, you know − ai was at the Academy with your son.’

  ‘Really?’ Humphrey East said, grasping Lex’s hand and shaking it emphatically. ‘Glad to know you, my boy. Glad to know you. Although I can’t say I remember Jeremiah writing home about you.’

  ‘Ah . . . well,’ Lex looked uncomfortable as he drew back his hand. ‘I don’t expect he used mey real name. They used to call me Old Squiffy.’

  It had been an educated guess on Lex’s part but, from what little he understood of private schools, it seemed that there was always one unfortunate boy who got landed with the nickname ‘Old Squiffy’. Whether or not Jeremiah had ever had such a friend, Lex couldn’t tell, but it seemed to go down well enough with his father, who threw back his head and laughed. ‘I say, Forsythe, do you remember the Old Squiffy from our school days?’

  The two men had a good chuckle and Lex let them have it. He’d experienced a momentary flicker of concern that they might work out the Trent Lexington thing. After all, they must have known that one of the other players in this Game was called Lex Trent. But that was toffs for you. Money had made them stupid. Lex could have announced himself as Tex Lent and they still wouldn’t have put the pieces together. In fact, that wasn’t a bad idea, Lex thought. He rather fancied calling himself Tex. He would have to think up an alter ego for Tex Lent at some point when the circumstances were right . . . But not now, when Trent Lexington suited the situation so perfectly.