The Boy with One Name

by J. R. Wallis

  The Gást walked between Jones and Ruby and stood over the candle. He seemed fascinated by the flickering flame. The deep slit across his throat glistened black. When he looked up at Ruby with his haunted-looking eyes, she started to feel sorry for him, imagining how lonely it must feel not to be fully dead or alive. She swayed up onto her tiptoes, pressing her mouth against the grille, wanting to tell the man how sad she felt for him. But as soon as her feet came up off the chalk symbol, written on the floor, little pieces of the armour around her started to disappear.

  ‘No!’ cried Jones, as soon as he saw what was happening. ‘Ruby! Don’t! It’s trying to make you forget about staying safe.’ The sharp sound of Jones’s voice brought Ruby to her senses and she planted her feet firmly back on the floor, and the armour healed up around her.

  The Gást smiled and winked at her before walking towards Jones, stopping in front of the boy’s grille and peering in.

  ‘I saw you the other night in the street with Simeon’s boy, the funny-looking one with the silly hair. Simeon’s done that before, pitting two apprentices against each other to see who’s best. I’ve seen lots of boys like you come and go over the years. I’m Simeon’s little secret, you see. He keeps me here to help weed out the good apprentices from the bad ones. That other one’s come in here a good few times and never even got a sniff of me.’ When the Gást grinned, the wound in its neck smiled too. ‘But if you’re Simeon’s apprentice what’s with the girl? Is she your girlfriend?’

  ‘I’m not Simeon’s apprentice,’ said Jones.

  ‘No?’

  ‘And I’m not his girlfriend,’ said Ruby. ‘We’re partners.’

  The Gást turned to look at Ruby, genuinely surprised for a moment, and then laughed. ‘You mean you’re a Badlander?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Well, are you willing to risk coming out of that shell of yours to save your partner? A Gást like me can open up this tin can of his anytime I like.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ shouted Jones. ‘It’s trying to trick you again, Ruby. It can’t get in. As long as I keep my feet over the symbol, I’ll be fine.’

  ‘But what if you don’t?’ hissed the Gást. ‘What if you fall off your perch, little birdie?’ The man stuck a long finger through the grille and tried to touch Jones. The boy lurched back, but managed to keep his feet firmly rooted on the symbol.

  The Gást hissed in disgust, pushing its hand in further through the grille. When it accidentally touched the bars, blue sparks erupted, causing it to cry out in pain and pull back its arm.

  Enraged, the Gást walked smartly across the room towards Ruby.

  ‘What about you? Can you manage to stand still too?’ The Gást stuck a long finger through the grille and tried to touch her. Ruby wobbled back, just managing to keep her feet stuck to the floor. ‘If you’re planning on catching me, you’re going to have to crawl out of those shells at some point. Then I’ll get you for certain. So why prolong the wait?’ It reached in its arm further, forcing Ruby to lurch back. And this time when the creature touched the grille there were no blue sparks. No cries of pain.

  The Gást looked shocked for a moment before withdrawing its arm and testing again by touching a finger lightly to Ruby’s armour. Still no blue sparks. It peered at Ruby and tutted loudly, before turning round and winking at Jones. ‘Someone must have written a symbol wrong. They’re so hard to get right, aren’t they?’

  The Gást turned its gaze back to Ruby and laid both hands flat on the armoured shell, moving them around as if feeling for something.

  ‘There must be a fault somewhere. A little spot I can—’ It stopped as it felt something to its liking and dug the tip of a fingernail into the armour and cut a tiny slit into the metal. ‘Well, well, well,’ it said, and then launched both hands at the hole it had made, tearing at it with its nails.

  Ruby screamed as the creature ripped out a small chunk of the armoured shell and flung it to the floor. The Gást bent down and put one eye against the newly made hole to look in.

  ‘Hello, my pretty. I’m coming to get you. Once I touch you, you’re going to die slowly. But that’s the easy part. It’s the bit after that that’s hard, being stuck between two worlds. You’ll have plenty of time to realize that.’ It stepped back and stuck a sharp nail into the hole, beginning to slice through the armour casing as if it was using a paperknife to slit open an envelope.

  Ruby screamed again.

  ‘I’ve got a better idea,’ shouted Jones, and the Gást wheeled round to see the boy standing right behind it, holding out the jam jar with the candle still burning inside. ‘How about you get inside this jar instead?’ Jones joined his thumb and forefinger on his free hand together to make a small circle over the top of the jar. Written on his skin, in blue biro, were a series of symbols. They started to spin round, faster and faster, until they were just a blue ring humming round the top of Jones’s hand.

  The Gást shrieked as its head stretched towards the mouth of the jar, like a piece of chewing gum being pulled. And then in one quick THLUMPF! the Gást was sucked down through the circle of Jones’s thumb and forefinger and into the jam jar. The boy slammed down the lid, screwed it on tightly, and held up the jar to have a look. Without any air, the candle’s flame faded and died out. Through the smoke trapped inside, Ruby saw little red sparks fizzing and bouncing against the glass, and then she stepped off her symbol to make the damaged armour surrounding her disappear.

  ‘Got ’im,’ grinned Jones like a little boy who’d just caught a beetle. Ruby stared at him for a moment and then whacked him hard on the arm. ‘Ow! What’s that for?’

  ‘You know exactly.’

  ‘I had to trick him somehow.’

  ‘By writing a symbol wrong so I’d be a decoy?’

  ‘I’d never have let you come to any harm. Never.’ Jones held up the jam jar. ‘He’s a beauty, Ruby, and you helped catch him. A Wretch and a Gást in just a few days. That’s going some.’ Ruby folded her arms and puffed out her cheeks. But when she pulled her best angry face it came out in a weird smile, because she couldn’t help being pleased. Jones was beaming as he peered into the jar. ‘We’re a step closer to finding out more about this Witch now, thanks to you.’

  NINETEEN

  Ruby was sitting on the dirty floor, watching the little red sparks collide against the inside of the jar.

  ‘You’re sure it can’t escape?’

  ‘Yep.’ Jones took the three white envelopes out of his pocket and laid them on the floor. ‘As soon as it passed through the portal I made with my hand, it’s stuck in the jar till I release it. It’s an old curse. Maitland told me it was used to put genies in lamps a long time ago.’

  Ruby tapped the jar and the red sparks fizzed angrily. ‘What’s happened to the Gást?’

  ‘It’s changed into a safer form. One we can work with. Open the lid and I’ll show you.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Jones nodded and Ruby picked up the jar, which felt very cold, and unscrewed the lid, not at all sure she was doing something safe. As soon as she twisted it off, the remnants of the candle smoke wafted free. And all the red sparks floated to the top too, but none of them drifted out of the mouth of the jar, much to her relief.

  Jones took the jar from Ruby and turned it upside down, giving it a smart tap so the candle dropped out onto the floor. Still none of the red sparks came free as they fizzed inside it.

  ‘So how do we ask it about the Witch?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘Everything in the world, living or dead, is made of energy,’ replied Jones, setting the jar upright on the floor, ‘even a Gást. When it passed through the portal, all that happened was its energy changed into a different form.’ Jones picked up one of the white envelopes and lifted the flap. ‘Now, if you know there’s energy in everything, you can put that knowledge to good use. All you need is to combine the right items together and you can make things happen the way you want.’

  Tiny black seeds tumbled from the envelope into the jar a
nd fizzed as they burnt up and disappeared. ‘Ragwort seeds go first.’ Jones paused to consult his Learning Book. ‘Then it’s rattle grass pods and after that the dried oak leaves.’ Jones emptied the contents of the other two envelopes into the jar. As soon as they were absorbed, a ball of blue mist formed at the bottom of the jar, swelling steadily until it was full of a milky blue light.

  The light drifted up to the neck of the jar, collecting the red sparks as it did, and stopped just below the rim. It hardened rapidly into a transparent gelatinous skin across the top of the jar.

  ‘Nature’s a special thing,’ said Jones. ‘Maitland told me you should treat it with respect. But most people don’t and that’s their loss cos it means they can’t do things Badlanders can.’

  ‘It seems like Maitland taught you lots of useful things,’ said Ruby.

  Jones nodded. ‘I s’pose he did,’ and he smiled as the Gást’s face appeared in miniature on the jelly-like screen in the neck of the jar. ‘Maitland was a good man,’ he said, looking up at Ruby, and she nodded back.

  ‘It’s tight in here,’ said the Gást in a shrill voice. ‘I can hardly breathe. Can’t you put me somewhere bigger?’

  ‘You’re a Gást,’ said Jones. ‘I know you don’t need to breathe. There’s no point trying to trick me.’

  ‘When I get out of here, I’ll poison you very slowly and painfully.’

  ‘You mean, if you ever get out of there,’ replied Jones.

  The face in the jelly-like screen grinned. ‘Glass cracks pretty easily. If this jar breaks, I’ll be out before you even hear the smash. Only someone very inexperienced would have put me in here. Or someone very stupid.’

  Jones picked up the jar and threw it at the wall before Ruby could tell him to STOP! It bounced off harmlessly like a rubber ball, pinging off into a dark corner.

  ‘It’s a Bouncy Jar,’ grinned Jones. ‘Charmed not to break. I nicked it from Simeon’s house, remember? Most Badlanders have them lying around for work like this.’

  The Gást was still cursing when Jones picked up the jar and set it down in the middle of the floor again. ‘Now, you’re going to tell me what I want to know or else I’ll bury this jar somewhere it’ll never be found.’ A string of rude words came out of the jar which Jones and Ruby ignored.

  ‘Go on then,’ groaned the Gást after calming down.

  ‘The couple living across the road at number seventeen. What do you know about them?’

  ‘Been there for years. Quiet as mice.’

  ‘No one suspicious coming and going?’

  ‘Not that I’ve seen.’

  ‘Not even a Witch?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know a Witch from a whistle. Broomsticks are a bit last millennium if you know what I mean. They hardly go around in cloaks and hats either these days. It’s not a good look if you want a quiet life.’

  ‘A woman then?’

  ‘That doesn’t really narrow it down, does it?’

  Jones tapped his lips as he recalled everything he could remember about the night Maitland had taken him, after eating the memory fruit. He saw his parents. And then he remembered there’d been an older woman with them too, bending down to look at him in his cot. ‘I heard a name once,’ he said, ‘a long time ago, when I was a baby. Does Angela mean anything to you?’

  ‘Never heard it.’

  Jones frowned. ‘What about Mrs Easton? The woman who lives in the house opposite said that name the other night when she was on her phone.’

  ‘Nope, not heard that either.’

  Jones sighed in frustration.

  ‘But I’ve seen it,’ the Gást continued with a smirk.

  ‘What do you mean? How can you see a name?’ Jones asked.

  ‘Say please or I won’t tell you.’

  ‘You’ll tell me everything or I’ll bury this jar after I’ve put another Gást in there with you. Or how about a Drudge? You’d have a real party then, listening to it describe everything that’s bad about the world. That would really help the centuries fly right by.’

  ‘All right. No need for threats. It’s best if I show you what I’ve seen. This is the most recent. A couple of weeks ago.’

  The Gást’s face disappeared and in its place appeared a view from the window of the room they were in, overlooking the street and the houses opposite. It was daytime. After a few moments, a white van drew up and parked on the other side of the road. On the side panel was written:

  A. EASTON

  ARTISAN BAKER & PTISSIÉR

  EST. 1965

  When the driver’s door opened, a rather plump lady struggled to haul herself out of the front seat. When she finally managed it, the van rose up a good few centimetres. She was matronly-looking, about fifty years old, and wore a tweed skirt with sensible brown shoes and a beige V-neck sweater with a white shirt. A pair of glasses dangled around her neck on a chain and her brown hair was pulled back into a bun. Jones recognized her immediately.

  ‘That’s her! That’s the woman called Angela I was asking about.’ Jones turned to Ruby. ‘She was with my parents the night Maitland stole me! I saw her with ’em after I ate the memory fruit. She looks exactly the same.’

  They both stared into the jar and watched as Mrs Easton walked to the back of the van and opened the rear doors and lifted out a large cake. Jones’s parents were already coming out of their house and down the little garden path to greet her. They all kissed each other on the cheek like old friends before vanishing inside the house.

  The vision faded and in its place the Gást’s stony face was back, staring up again from the jar.

  ‘What else have you seen?’ asked Jones.

  ‘That woman comes to see them a couple of times a month. Brings a big cake sometimes. Don’t ask me what flavour.’

  ‘Does that sound normal to you?’ Jones asked Ruby.

  Ruby shrugged. ‘Everyone likes cake, I suppose.’ Jones tapped his fingers against the jar to try and help him think. ‘Look,’ Ruby continued, ‘if they were normal people then I’d say yeah, fine. Cake-shmake. But given your parents are cursed by a Witch and it looks like this woman has been visiting a lot then I think it could be fair to say that maybe it’s weird. Mrs Easton could be the Witch we’re after, but how can we know for sure?’

  ‘I reckon it’s her. She doesn’t look like she’s aged at all, like normal people do.’ Jones tapped the jar again. ‘What else have you seen?’

  ‘Like I said, she comes and goes,’ said the Gást.

  ‘Show us all the other times you’ve seen her.’

  Jones and Ruby watched more moments play out. They were mostly the same, with Mrs Easton arriving in her van and delivering a cake during the day. And then a visit occurred at night. It was much the same as the others Mrs Easton drove up in her van, got out and went to the door and rang the bell. But something about it made Jones uneasy.

  ‘There!’ he said suddenly.

  ‘What?’ Ruby peered closer.

  ‘In the van! Looking out of the window.’

  Ruby looked harder and she saw it. A small clay Poppet just like the ones in the cabinet in Jones’s parents’ house. It was standing up on the seat, peering out of the passenger window as Mrs Easton waited on the front doorstep. It watched her being welcomed into the house by Jones’s parents and then it sat down and disappeared from view.

  ‘It’s her, Jones,’ said Ruby. ‘Mrs Easton’s the Witch.’

  ‘Now all we’ve got to do is track her down so we can find out about this Dark Bottle Simeon told us about.’

  ‘Not a problem.’ Jones looked at Ruby, somewhat surprised. ‘Jones, I’m going to show you the wonders of the Internet.’

  Jones frowned. ‘I’ve heard people talking about that, but I ain’t never seen it. What is it?’

  ‘A secret world only ordinary people know about. It can tell you anything you want in an instant.’

  ‘Where is it?’ asked Jones, his eyes growing wide.

  Ruby held up her hands. ‘All around us. You ju
st have to connect to it.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘With a computer or a phone or a tablet. The Internet is a lot easier to use than magic and far less dangerous. If you really want to be an ordinary boy, you’re going to have to learn how to use it. You’ve shown me how to catch a Gást. Now I’m going to show you something you don’t know about.’ Jones was looking at her with his head cocked to one side, a slightly surprised look on his face. Ruby just shrugged and folded her arms. ‘Look, I like working together, but I know it’s not what you want, so I’m going to do what you asked me the first night we met. I’ll help you learn how to fit into the ordinary world as long as you teach me more about being a Badlander. Even if I can’t do magic I don’t want to go back to being an ordinary girl. Not now. There’s nothing about my old life I miss.’

  ‘Okay’ and Jones nodded and screwed the lid back on the jam jar, despite the Gást’s protestations, and put it in his pocket. ‘But we have to tidy up first: we don’t want Simeon knowing we’ve been here,’ he said, standing up and brushing down the dirt and dust from his trousers. ‘We need to remove all the symbols on the floor.’

  ‘What about making a mark, for capturing the Gást?’

  ‘We ain’t doing that,’ said Jones and Ruby pulled a face. ‘I don’t want to make a mark. I’m not planning on staying a Badlander, remember.’

  ‘But I am, and I didn’t get a chance to make my mark for killing the Wretch. The Gást counts, Jones. You said you wouldn’t have managed without me.’

  ‘No mark,’ said Jones firmly. ‘I don’t want anyone knowing we were here. What if Thomas Gabriel finds it, or Simeon? Besides, you don’t make a mark on someone else’s territory in London. That’s what the Ordnung says.’

  ‘Well, the Ordnung says lots of stupid things as we know,’ said Ruby pointedly. ‘That’s two creatures for me now and nothing to show for it,’ she muttered as she stood up, picking up the plastic bag full of gun parts.

  But Jones wasn’t paying attention any more as he started rubbing out the symbols around one of the circles on the floor with the sleeve of his overcoat.