The Extremely Inconvenient Adventures of Bronte Mettlestone

by Jaclyn Moriarty

  ‘Going as fast as I can,’ Barnabas panted, reasonably enough. The barrow tilted this way and that and Barnabas tilted with it, struggling to get it up the slope. He was dripping sweat.

  Along the main street we ran. People stopped and stared, calling to their friends to come and see. Sugar ran ahead, threw open the door of the police station and held it back while Barnabas manoeuvred the barrow inside.

  Detective Riley rose slowly. He ran his eyes over us: the water sprite in the barrow, Sugar Rixel panting, Barnabas wiping his forehead, me splashing the water sprite and getting a little on the floor. He frowned down at the splashes, and frowned back up at us.

  The water sprite spoke first. ‘My title is Cyphus, King of the Water Sprites!’

  ‘Oh, you’re all kings down there,’ Detective Riley muttered, and sat back down.

  Sugar Rixel stamped a foot. ‘Uncle Riley, you will come out from behind that desk this instant and you will listen to what we have to say!’

  ‘He’s your uncle?’ I asked, surprised.

  ‘I just call him that,’ she explained, ‘since we’re so close. Uncle Riley! Come out, or so help me, I will drag you out by that enormous honker of yours!’

  There was a sigh from behind the desk, a chair squealed back on tiles, and then Detective Riley was before us. He leaned an elbow on the counter, his eyes flashing to show he was in charge.

  ‘Good,’ Sugar Rixel declared. ‘And I meant no disrespect. Your nose is large, but it is most distinguished. We are here to demand the immediate release of Emma! She is innocent! Tell him, Cyphus!’

  The water sprite squirmed around in the wheelbarrow until he got himself into a sitting position.

  ‘She certainly is,’ he proclaimed. ‘The pepper grinder was stolen by my brother, Serfpio, King of the Water Sprites, Division 93!’

  ‘Told you they were all kings,’ Detective Riley said smartly. ‘And what makes you think your brother stole the pepper grinder?’ He drummed his fingers on the counter, unperturbed.

  ‘I have seen the pepper grinder displayed in my brother’s gallery! I never swim by his gallery, as we loathe one another, but I did just now and there it was!’

  Detective Riley twisted his big nose this way and that.

  ‘Why would your brother come and steal the pepper grinder?’ he said, a little scornfully. ‘Anyhow, crimson sap of the tehassifer tree was all over the crime scene, and that proves it was Emma!’ He made to return to his desk.

  At this point, Sugar Rixel was splashing water onto the water sprite again, but she raised the bucket in a threatening way. ‘Stay right where you are!’ she said. ‘It was not the crimson sap of the tehassifer tree! Bronte here figured it out with her detective work! It’s the blue oil of the katamanchi kelp! Which is—’

  For the first time, Detective Riley blinked. ‘Which is only available in the secret forests of the water sprites,’ he interrupted, frowning. ‘Go on.’

  ‘My brother is one of the finest artists of the water sprites,’ Cyphus announced from down in the barrow, sounding proud. ‘He makes sculptures and he paints every one with the blue oil of the katamanchi kelp. He drips with the stuff. Leaves a trail of it everywhere he goes! As soon as the beauteous Sugar told me about the blue oil, I guessed it must be him! You see, my brother believes that the pepper grinder is rightfully his.’

  Here, Sugar Rixel’s mighty expression faltered. ‘The pepper grinder belongs to your brother?’

  Cyphus shifted again to sit even taller. ‘Certainly not! It is my pepper grinder!’ I splashed a little water onto his shoulders for him. ‘Thank you,’ he nodded at me, and then to Sugar Rixel: ‘My brother just thinks it’s his. You see, our grandfather, the Great Deex, King of the Water Sprites, Division 422—’

  Detective Riley cleared his throat meaningfully.

  ‘Our grandfather, the Great Deex, lives and swims in the Sea of Varsity,’ the water sprite continued, ‘which is far, far and even farther away from here. When my brother and I were very small boys, Grandfather visited us. One day, he reached into his luggage and drew out the rare and magical pepper grinder, the prize of the Sea of Varsity. Boys, he said to my brother and me, play one of your games of Capture the Flag. Whoever wins, will have this pepper grinder.’

  Here Barnabas spoke up. ‘Capture the Flag! I forgot all about that game! Used to love it as a boy. So you play it amongst the water sprites, do you?’

  ‘Indeed we do,’ Cyphus smiled back at Barnabas. ‘And on this particular day, we had a fierce and mighty game of it, my brother and I, which I won! And so the pepper grinder belongs to me.’

  ‘So why does your brother think it belongs to him?’ Barnabas asked.

  ‘Oh, well, he thinks he won, you see. But he didn’t! I tipped him on the seaweed skirt. It was a fair tip! Anyhow, Grandfather laughed and tossed the pepper grinder at me and said, You two figure it out between you, and then he began his journey home to the Sea of Varsity, and I said, Well, nothing to figure, it’s mine, and I took it and kept it. We’ve been fighting ever since.’

  We all considered this.

  ‘You could get a legal ruling on who won,’ Detective Riley suggested. ‘There must be codes about it? Water sprite codes.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Cyphus said. ‘But the code is ambiguous. The Supreme Water Court wouldn’t hear our case. They said it was childish.’

  Again, we all considered.

  ‘Wait,’ said Sugar Rixel, slowly. ‘When I first met you, you’d been injured in a swordfight with your brother.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Was the swordfight over the pepper grinder?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But then you gave me the pepper grinder!’

  The water sprite nodded. ‘For safekeeping. He’d never find it there! Or so I thought. And I was very tired of fighting him for it.’

  Sugar Rixel dropped her bucket of water on the floor, where it crashed sideways, spilling water everywhere. ‘You gave it to me as a thank-you gift!’

  ‘Yes. It served a sort of double purpose.’

  Before Sugar Rixel could finish taking in a furious breath, Detective Riley sniffed and said: ‘Swordfighting, you say? That’s illegal. I’ll write you up. You’ll be locked away for years, I shouldn’t wonder. Wait and I’ll get my codes.’ He made to go back to his desk again.

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ Sugar Rixel scolded, letting out the great breath of air in an instant. ‘That swordfight was ages ago. Stop it, Uncle Riley. The point is that Emma didn’t do it! Go and let her out at once!’

  ‘Could I have a little more water?’ the water sprite asked politely. ‘I’m drying out here rather.’

  ‘Not from me.’ Sugar Rixel pointed the toe of her shoe at the spilled water.

  ‘I’m running out.’ I raised my almost empty bucket.

  The Detective frowned deeply at us all. ‘Emma Mettlestone is staying where she is,’ he growled. ‘She confessed to the crime!’

  ‘She did?’ exclaimed Cyphus.

  ‘Oh,’ Sugar Rixel said. ‘I forgot about that.’

  ‘But the brother did it!’ I was suddenly angry with them all. ‘So who cares that she confessed!’

  ‘Go and fetch Emma,’ Barnabas urged. ‘And ask her why she confessed.’

  Detective Riley scratched behind his ear. Then he shrugged and said: ‘I’ll bring her out.’ He glanced at the water sprite, and reached for my bucket. ‘Give me that,’ he grumbled, ‘and I’ll refill it as well.’

  Nothing happened.

  We waited silently.

  Nothing continued to happen.

  Then a number of things happened all at once.

  Detective Riley returned, the bucket in one hand (water sloshing), a chain in the other hand and a woman trailing behind him, her hair wild, face pale, manacles on her ankles and her wrists. This must be Aunt Emma, I thought. She is beautiful but she looks quite unwell.

  ‘Emma!’ Sugar Rixel cried, in horror—and the door of the police station burst open.
r />   A water sprite stood in the frame.

  We stared.

  He shouted: ‘She didn’t do it! I did it! I stole the pepper grinder! She is innocent! My darling Emma!’ He snarled at Detective Riley, ‘You will pay for this, you swine!’ and then he started again. ‘She didn’t do it! I did it!’ But his voice choked on itself, and he hunched forward, coughing.

  This water sprite looked very much like King Cyphus, only with darker colouring and flashing black eyes. And his skin was patterned like cracked porcelain. In fact, a faint crackling sound ran right across his body. He looked up from his coughing, eyes wild and staring.

  ‘You must be the brother,’ Sugar Rixel said. ‘But don’t tell me you’ve come all this way without any water!’

  ‘Of course,’ the new water sprite said hoarsely, slumping against the door frame. ‘I had to save dear Emma. It was me! Arrest me!’ and he crumpled, coughing again.

  ‘Great Ocean!’ said Cyphus, turning white. ‘He will die before our eyes!’

  Now Aunt Emma wrenched the chain out of Detective Riley’s hands and rushed towards the coughing water sprite with much clanking. ‘Oh my love, my love!’

  She threw her arms around him and began to drag him, stumbling, across the room. Barnabas stepped over to help, and between them, they carried the water sprite down the hall. We heard more cries and coughs and clanks, and then the sound of rushing water.

  Cyphus cleared his throat. ‘There is a good, strong water supply down the hall there?’ he enquired.

  ‘There is,’ Detective Riley agreed gruffly. ‘A bathtub.’

  ‘A tub.’ Cyphus nodded firmly. ‘Just the thing.’ His voice quivered a little.

  ‘He’ll be all right,’ Sugar Rixel murmured.

  ‘They’ll fill it up in no time,’ Detective Riley added.

  From down the hall, there were more low groans and sharp cries, and Aunt Emma’s voice shouting, ‘Move him this way!’ and Barnabas’s voice lower, ‘Just help me here?’ and Emma shrieking, ‘Oh, these cursed chains!’

  ‘Do you think you might—’ Sugar Rixel began, but Detective Riley was already sorting through keys and marching down the hall.

  We heard more cries and the loud clanging of chains being pulled aside and clanked out of the bathroom.

  ‘I’ll fetch the doctor,’ Sugar Rixel declared.

  ‘Nothing that a doctor can do at this point,’ Cyphus told her. ‘There is no medicine but water. Of course …’ He paused. ‘Of course,’ he repeated, more forcefully this time, ‘it may be too …’

  Again he stopped. Sugar Rixel and I looked down at him. Faint cracks were appearing around his collar bone. I splashed a little water on them, and they faded.

  ‘It may be too …’ he tried again in a soft voice.

  ‘It won’t be too late,’ Sugar Rixel said firmly.

  Down the hall, the water blasted on and on.

  Sugar Rixel and I leaned against the counter, waiting. We took turns splashing water onto Cyphus and he kept trying to smile up at us, without quite managing.

  ‘No! No!’ we heard Emma wail at one point. Cyphus started up in the barrow. Then we heard Barnabas’s voice, low and calm, ‘It’s all right. Look. His chest is moving. He’s still breathing.’

  Detective Riley reappeared from down the hall. His eyes flickered towards us, then away again. ‘I’ll just …’ he began, and he strode outside.

  Minutes later, he was back, rolling a huge oak barrel. He tipped this to a standing position. Then he hurried out again, returned rolling a second barrel, stood this up, and left again.

  We watched, bewildered.

  Next, Detective Riley brought in a garden hose, and began filling the first oak barrel. From down the hall came the sounds of more rapid conversation between Aunt Emma and Barnabas, something to do with the tub overflowing, and then the rush of water stopped. There were now only the sounds of splashing.

  ‘Here we go,’ Detective Riley told Cyphus eventually. ‘Why don’t you step into this barrel?’

  The water sprite breathed in deeply. ‘Sir, I thank you.’

  With Sugar’s help, he clambered out of the wheelbarrow and hoisted himself quickly into the oak barrel. There was a splash. The barrel was big enough for him to crouch, immersing his head completely. After a moment, his head rose up again and he said, ‘Aaaah. That is better.’

  Detective Riley was filling the second barrel. ‘This,’ he said, ‘will be ready for your brother when he’s better. We’ll have a celebration afternoon tea right here. I’ll just run to the bakery and get provisions.’

  Cyphus nodded, but his lips trembled. Abruptly he plunged under the water.

  Detective Riley strode out, carrying the hose.

  ‘Are you sure there’s nothing else that could help your brother?’ I asked Cyphus when his head reappeared. ‘Nothing but water?’

  Cyphus nodded. ‘Water is the only thing.’

  ‘Should it be seawater?’ Sugar Rixel asked suddenly. ‘I’ll run and fill the buckets from the sea!’ She had already grabbed them, but Cyphus shook his head.

  ‘In fact,’ he said, ‘fresh water is better at a time like this. He’ll be all right.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Sugar and I said quickly. ‘Yes, he will!’

  But down the hall, there was a terrible silence now, and only occasional splashing.

  I bounced on my feet. I pulled on my pockets and re-buckled my sandals.

  I couldn’t stay here a moment longer.

  Before anybody could stop me, I ran to the station door and out onto the street.

  The librarian shouted, ‘Dear child! More research?’

  I nodded quickly, looking over her shoulder at the catalogue, my eyes running around the library, up and down the shelves of books.

  ‘Excuse me,’ I said. ‘Are you good at research?’

  ‘Not so bad,’ she replied modestly.

  ‘Only, this is a sort of an emergency,’ I explained.

  Abruptly, the librarian leaned towards me. ‘Tell me!’ she said, eyes sparkling.

  I told her. She peered hard at me.

  Then she was gone, moving so fast she was a blur. Silent as a bicycle.

  She was back while I was still blinking, setting a great pile of books onto the desk. She threw open the first book, leafed through to the index, ran her thumb down the page, shook her head, and placed the book onto her chair. This all happened in the time it takes to think about breathing. She picked up the second book. The same thing happened. Same with the third.

  With the fourth, she paused. Her eyes flickered. Her thumb touched the index and stopped. She nodded. The pages flew back, forth, back, then stopped.

  ‘Here,’ she whispered, and she tapped at the top of a page. Here is what it said:

  Water Sprite Dehydration is generally treated with immersion in fresh water. While this is effective in a small proportion of cases, Dehydration is an extremely serious condition and almost always fatal.

  I looked up, my eyes widening. But the librarian gestured for me to continue reading.

  However, a recent study carried out in the Travails of Endiva found that when a drop of Pure Liquide is ADDED to the fresh water, survival rates were markedly improved.

  ‘Pure Liquide?’ I breathed, turning to the librarian, but she had gone.

  She was back beside me while I was still realising she had gone. An enormous volume thumped onto the desk.

  ‘Pure,’ she murmured to herself, her fingers turning pages like a concert pianist, ‘pure, pure … here!’

  She smoothed out the page. We read together.

  PURE LIQUIDE

  Pure Liquide is an essential vapour, distilled in the fifth winter of the fullest moon, by the radish gnomes of Takejby Bay, available only in the midnight markets of Bay Ten. (172)

  ‘Oh,’ I said.

  But the librarian was now pointing to the bottom of the page. There was a footnote.

  172. Effective substitutions for Pure Liquide include a cup of water
from the Helmet Cascades in Rafern, a single Gainsleigh Dewdrop, or the tear of a mountain Seal-frog.

  ‘Hm,’ the librarian murmured. ‘I have a cousin who lives in Rafern. I think she’s not far from those Helmet Cascades. I will telegraph at once and she—’

  But my heart was clattering like a locomotive.

  ‘A Gainsleigh Dewdrop!’ I said. ‘I have a vial of Gainsleigh Dewdrops! The Butler gave them to me!’ and then I was tearing from the library, shouting, ‘Thank you! Thank you!’

  ‘GOOD LUCK!’ the librarian bellowed, and there was a chorus of shhhhs!

  I was back at Aunt Emma’s cottage.

  I was skidding across the floorboards.

  Wrenching open my suitcase.

  My fingers trembled so much that I had to shake my hands hard to stop them.

  I threw everything out onto the bed. Not this, not this, my dresses kept tangling together and getting in my way! Where was it, had I lost it? And there it was!

  I was holding the vial of Gainsleigh Dewdrops.

  Now I was dashing through the streets of Lantern Island again. Past the ice-cream parlour, the wishing well, the library—and then I was throwing open the doors of the police station.

  Nobody was there.

  The two oak barrels were empty.

  Nobody behind the counter.

  Then, from down the hall, came sounds. Somebody was weeping. A hoarse voice was saying, ‘His face, keep water on his face,’ and another voice grimly: ‘It’s too late.’

  I ran down the hall, and skidded around the corner into the bathroom.

  It was crowded in there.

  Detective Riley and Barnabas both stood, their faces grim. Aunt Emma leaned over the bathtub, sobbing. Sugar Rixel crouched beside her, a hand on Emma’s shoulder. Cyphus also kneeled by the tub. He was draped in sopping wet towels. Both his hands were in the water, splashing his brother’s face: ‘His face, keep water on his face,’ he was saying, over and over.