Clearheart

by Edrei Cullen

  And then it popped.

  ‘Hello,’ said Charlie, appearing from within it, dripping wet. He grinned with delight to find himself back at Hedgeberry with his friends.

  ‘Look, we found Dixon,’ he said, turning to Ella and Dixon. But Ella was not there. Only Dixon, lying face-first in the grass, kissing it!

  ‘I’m back! I’m back! Rhymes with crack!’ he rasped weakly. Samantha squealed with delight, flinging herself to the ground and squishing the pixie up to her chest.

  ‘What are you wearing?’ said Humphrey, flicking his fringe out of his eyes and looking at Charlie’s anorak with baffled amusement.

  ‘Where in Magic’s name is Ella?’ said Charlie again, his white hair standing right up on end and his freckled face blanching.

  chapter 28

  clearhearts & confrontation

  Ella flew back across the glacial plains of Antarctica alone, leaving the Troggles running in circles around the Spirit Tree. They could feel it but they couldn’t see it, being Trogglified and all. The thought of flying directly back to the Duke made her insides turn. The weird sensation of flight did much the same. But her mind was made up. Bruised and tired as she was, the child flew with a determination that belied the ordeal she had just undergone.

  The Clearheart shook her head angrily as she flew. For she had almost forgotten, in her quest to find Dixon, the promise she had made. She had promised Thomas that she would help prove the Giants’ innocence in return for their leading her to Dixon, or be beholden to them until she could. A promise she would keep! But she would not endanger Dixon or Charlie anymore. So she had thought them back to the safety of Hedgeberry, with the help of the Spirit Trees. The Spirit Trees. What was it that they kept whispering to her? ‘Asquemi, Asquemi.’ What did it mean?

  As she flew closer to the Duke’s hideaway, she could see the forms of two giants deep in animated discussion, their limbs shifting and bending like moving hillocks. Their great feet sent sprays of snow up into the air as they stamped passionately. The Giants were wondrous in their very size and bulk. The closer she came, the clearer their shapes grew against the Antarctic sky. It became evident that the red-haired Giant was by far the crosser of the two. It also became clear that they weren’t feeling very well. For both of them held their stomachs as though they were about to vomit.

  At a fair distance from them both, the Duke’s spiky palace lay in ruins, its spires strewn, cracked and broken, on the ice. Crushed planes, tanks and guns, and a bright red Rolls Royce with a huge footprint through its middle, were scattered about eerily. The occasional movement of what Ella assumed were injured Troggles was the only indication of life. Ella swallowed hard and set off toward the Giants.

  As she did so, something bright caught her eye.

  It was coming from beyond the Duke’s demolished hideaway, far away in the distance. She turned to the light and froze, hovering open-mouthed in the frosty dusk.

  For there on the horizon, coming ever closer, glowing whiter than white, illuminating the encroaching darkness with their pure glow, flew a wall of what looked like an uncountable number of incandescent lights. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. They were heading straight for the ruins of the Duke’s hideaway.

  Ella looked over her shoulder at the Giants. They were all but gone, back underground! Only their heads, two great, quiet boulders, still showed above the snow, one covered in red hair, the other by a ragged beanie. They were so still they had to be sleeping. She turned back to the wall of light. She felt drawn to it. Transfixed by it. Her body seemed to move through the air by itself, her wings propelling her silently and slowly of their own accord.

  All at once, the wall stopped. Ella was close enough, though high above it, to see that the wall was made up of luminescent figures. White elves! The wall curled in to form a great shining ball. A sphere so magnificent, so huge, that the gargantuan heads snoozing half a mile away seemed small in comparison. Where had this army of white elves come from?

  Before Ella had a chance to guess, a brilliant shower of arrows flew from the quivers of the soldiers at the front of the sphere. The silvery arrows were aimed sharply at a spot on the snow beneath the sphere. Ella smelt the familiar aroma of cinnamon and rain erupting in the air.

  As the arrows hit the ground, they turned the ice into a thick, silvery substance. Another shower of arrows followed, sparkling and shimmering with the shooting iridescence of elf dust. Ella lowered herself a few metres. She was spellbound. Fascinated. Calm. The arrows were turning the watery world beneath her solid as steel before her very eyes. She looked harder.

  There was the Duke, his wings beating wildly, shielding his eyes from the dust with one hand. His wings raised him off the ground, but his legs dangled beneath him, bent and broken from when he had been trapped beneath the Giant. He was surrounded by Troggles, hissing and spitting up into the air, running about in ever-decreasing circles. But they served as little more than a distraction. He looked about wildly. ‘Ragwald, Ulnus,’ he screamed with fury. ‘We are under attack! Melt a Waterway for our escape at once! They are making the ice impenetrable!’

  Showers of elf dust encircled the Duke, trapping him in a wispy mesh of interconnected sparkles. With his free hand he sprayed his own dust about him, like a twisting laser of white light, brighter and denser than the white elves’ spray. It dispelled the attacking dust at once. By his side, a half-Trogglified goblin worked hard to reach the ice before it became impenetrable. By his side, the man with the enormous Adam’s apple, who was clearly a Flitterwig, reached out with the branches that protruded from his arms. The branches burst into flame as he rested them upon the Antarctic floor, transforming the solid silvery surface back to snow and ice almost as quickly as it was Transmogrified.

  ‘Faster, Ulnus, Ragwald, faster,’ Ella heard the Duke scream at the strange, branching Flitterwig and the tiny Magical. Could that be? It wasn’t possible. Gloria’s father?

  ‘I can’t melt a Waterway fast enough, Your Highness,’ Ragwald cried. ‘They are Transmogrifying the ice too quickly.’ Ella looked at the ground.

  ‘He’s right,’ cried the Flitterwig. It was true, the arrows were coming so fast that the goblin and the Flitterwig had barely a chance.

  The Duke flew higher, his legs dangling beneath him at odd angles. With a roar, he shot dust from his finger with such force that the wall of elves halted, stunned and electrified. The Duke shot another laser of dust at the ground beneath him, Transmogrifying it back to ice at once. Ragwald pounced upon it, holding his ear with one hand, his mouth working at nineteen to the dozen. The Flitterwig fought the power of the white elves’ slicing shots with the flames of his branching limbs. The barrier began to melt. But they couldn’t work fast enough. The army of elves had regrouped. Their arrows sliced the ice, turning it steely and impenetrable once more.

  ‘REEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHHH!’ screeched the Duke, shooting a laser of dust at the shining sphere of light, and another at the ground. Ragwald and Ulnus moved in again.

  Ella watched, agape, frozen in the air, her wings not feeling in the least bit tired. It became clear to her as the battle continued that the goblin-Troggle-thing was trying to melt a Waterway through which to escape. The burning Flitterwig was obviously trying to help him. And the white elves were doing all they could to stop him. But where had the white elves come from?

  The sphere of elves shuddered, stunned once more by another potent shot of dust from the Duke’s finger. But this time they did not regroup quickly enough. There seemed to be a struggle within the sphere. The white elves grouped together at the point of the struggle, creating an apex of white light so blinding that Ella couldn’t look at it without shielding her eyes. But in spite of their efforts, the wall split open. On the ground below, Ragwald and Ulnus worked to re-melt the impenetrable metallic floor.

  ‘I have a Waterway, Your Highness, quick!’ Ragwald cried, disappearing into a small puddle of water until only his head and one arm were visible. The Duke
flew towards the Waterway, turning his back on the encroaching ball of light. He flew headfirst towards his transitory means of escape. The elves shot shining arrows of whatever-it-was after him, turning the Waterway silver and solid, encasing Ragwald’s head and arm within it. But as fast as their arrows came, the Dryad Flitterwig turned the ground back to water. Ablaze, trapped in a mercurial embrace, the loyal goblin drew on the waters below and re-melted the surface from beneath as fast as the elves could Transmogrify it from above. Ulnus worked hard on the surface to support him.

  Flaaaashhhhhhhhh!

  A laser of dust as bright and dense as the Duke’s flew from the apex of the sphere. It encircled the dastardly fallen elf like a net of electricity, pulling him to the ground. Ella looked up at the sphere, so close now that she could see the innumerable arrows on the white elves’ backs, could see their perfect forms flying back into formation. But they were too late. For Ella could also see what they had been protecting inside their sphere. What—or rather, who—had fired that powerful dust through the luminous wall. It was a creature so lovely, so radiant, so fine, that Ella breathed in sharply. The creature’s delicate frame was enfolded in a simple yet elegant chemise. She lingered in the sky, miniature, weightless, graceful. Her hair flew out behind her, a mane of gold. Her gilded wings flickered incandescently as they swayed in the air. Sparks flew from the tips of her exquisitely pointed ears and the night filled with a bouquet of cloves and spices.

  It was the Queen herself. Ella recognised her as if it had been yesterday that they had last met. Wrinkles, carried in the arms of two white elves, flew after the Queen, begging her to stay back. The dust that had struck the Duke came from her own Royal self. Ella could see it, still whirling from the Queen’s pointing finger. The white elves spun about the Queen at once, but she cast them away. They were confused, uncertain whether to protect their Queen or continue the fight to stop the Duke’s escape.

  The Queen fluttered up and launched herself in a shimmering swallow dive towards the Duke. The Duke stared up at her and let out a cackling scream. Shaking away the net of dust that encircled him, his reptilian form heaved up, stretched and disfigured, drawn into the air by black wings. He pointed a claw at his wife and flung his head back.

  ‘You will never learn to use your dust as a weapon, will you Tirabella?’ he cried, laughing a dark laugh that cracked through the illuminated sky like a whip.

  The white elves were undecided no longer. Twenty of them flew in front of the Queen as the laser of dust left the Duke’s pointed claw. The dust that spilt from his finger this time was black as night, and it smelt of burnt cinnamon, of stagnant water. The effort of casting it emptied the Duke of power. He fell back onto the ever-changing ground and skimmed across it like a pebble on water, screaming in pain, coming to rest by Ragwald’s head. The elves protecting the Queen exploded like firecrackers and evaporated on the spot.

  The Queen moved forward, but not before another wall of white elves flew in to create another shield before her.

  Ragwald’s hand grabbed at the Duke’s hair and pulled him closer, taking advantage of the white elves’ loss of focus. The Dryad Flitterwig flung himself towards Ragwald too. The area around the goblin turned from molten silver to water to molten silver to water. The Flitterwig disappeared into the Waterway as soon as he spotted an opportunity. The Duke sent another laser of black dust hurtling towards the sphere and then collapsed, unconscious, as the goblin dragged him closer with all his might.

  The sphere of white elves, just metres away, exploded where the black dust hit it, sending the white elves spiralling. The electricity in the air was as violent as a storm in a dark sea. The sphere collapsed.

  Those white elves who had not been destroyed or discombobulated by the impact of the dust dived towards the Duke. They came face to face with a beleaguered army of Troggles, each so much bigger than they were, but so confused that a single, tiny elf was more than a match as they thrust their white daggers into their former kinsmen’s hearts.

  But the Troggles’ deaths were futile. For the Duke was gone, leaving behind him no trace in the fire-blasted landscape of silver and ice.

  chapter 29

  promises & poppycock

  Ella watched as the Queen lowered herself onto the Antarctic floor and shook her head. The shimmering stream of sparks that flew from her long, golden hair told her army to halt their attack. Wrinkles, set on the ground by his carriers, ran to her, but stopped short of touching her. She stood among her settling soldiers, bathed in their white light, shining like the brightest star herself.

  Ella looked about her. It was night now, although it didn’t look like that at all beneath her, as the last of the white elves came to rest on the snow. In the shining glow cast by the white elves, Ella spotted two shadows approach as the last remnants of silver turned back to snow and ice. It was Don Posiblemente and Samuel! As they neared the Queen, Ella listened closely, wishing her hearing had the same strength as her olfactory senses. She closed her eyes and held her ear, willing her aural senses stronger.

  Don Posiblemente and Samuel reached the Queen. At first all Ella could hear from her spot high above them were mumbles and murmurs. But as she concentrated harder, she could hear bits and bobs of what was being said below. She flew closer, for some reason afraid of being seen, and settled behind a shattered pyramid.

  ‘… should have told me earlier… never have I seen black dust used since…’ she heard the Queen say.

  ‘… our humblest apologies…’ she caught coming from Samuel’s mouth.

  ‘… the Clearheart must act alone…’ said Don Posiblemente.

  With every minute she could hear them more clearly, until the conversation was fully audible.

  ‘The Duke got away,’ the Queen said simply. She shook her head again and another spray of gold flew from her hair. ‘I lifted the Ban so that we could be allies, and because of your pride, your reluctance to keep me informed, the Duke has escaped.’ Although the Queen spoke softly and her voice was steady, there was an undertone of bitter disappointment.

  ‘I was simply trying to give the second part of the Prophecy time to be fulfilled,’ said Don Posiblemente, his head hanging repentantly, ‘so that we can begin our Environmental Protection Work together in earnest. All of us,’ he added, looking up meaningfully.

  ‘Oh, stop with your excuses, Filosofico,’ said Wrinkles. ‘You have done enough damage. Ella is just a child. She cannot bridge the divides between all of us,’ he said, understanding exactly what the Don was referring to. ‘She cannot raise the Others.’

  ‘I am sorely tempted to reinstate the Ban, Samuel.’ The Queen spoke softly, but her voice cut through the air like a crystal knife. ‘For if we cannot work together, in trust, why should I endanger my people again by allowing them to fraternise with Flitterwigs? The Duke is a wanted Magical criminal. What is more, he is my husband.’ The Queen’s voice rose like a flute’s arpeggio. ‘You were obliged to tell me at once when you knew where he was. You are not an honourable species, you Flitterwigs. Too human, too selfish, too self-serving by far.’

  ‘But we did inform you,’ said Samuel.

  ‘And Ella has indeed raised the—’ Don Posiblemente did not get a chance to finish his sentence, for there was a rumble from the distance that caused the white elves to rise up again in formation and turn as one towards the noise.

  The light their united bodies cast lit the Antarctic plains before them like spotlights on a stage. The wall shuddered. The Queen flew up above them attempting to see. They tried to shield her. She flew higher. They flew higher still. She shot down and looked out into the distance.

  ‘Oh, for all that is magical and pure,’ she cried when she saw what they were shielding her from. Her voice sang across the night like a starling’s lament, but her body was glowing bright with fury.

  Ella looked out across the plains and held her hand across her mouth. The Queen doesn’t know! she realised.

  Towards the wall of white elve
s marched two humungous, ginormous, gargantuan Giants. Holding hands, and their stomachs. The Queen turned and flew in the opposite direction.

  ‘Come,’ she called to her soldiers. ‘We are leaving!’ She turned back momentarily and pointed her finger at Samuel. ‘How dare you allow the Clearheart to raise the Giants without informing me. How dare you. I wash my hands of you all. The Ban is hereby reinstated,’ she trilled. Though her voice was barely a whisper, its sound filled the ether like the ringing of bells. ‘Magicals and Flitterwigs are no longer to fraternise,’ she chimed. ‘I will never, ever forgive you for this.’

  Ella squeezed her hand tighter over her mouth. But that meant that she and Dixon couldn’t be friends anymore!

  The Queen paused. Her white elves were not following. They were being swatted away by the Giants. Thomas’s voice boomed loud and clear. ‘YOU PESKY MAGICALS,’ he yelled, as the white elves slung arrows of dust at him and his brother. The force of them stopped the Giants momentarily in their tracks. Their magic might be petite in size, but it was potent in effect. ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?’

  And then he spotted the Queen. ‘TIRABELLA,’ he hollered, catching his breath. ‘WHAT THE…’

  ‘Hypnopify them,’ Tirabella instructed her soldiers, calm as the lull before a storm. The white elves gathered in formation before the Giants’ eyes and glowed even brighter than before. From her hiding place, Ella could see that their eyes cast out a light that stunned Bolgus at once. He rocked back on his feet and Ella thought he might fall over. But Thomas was too quick. He closed his eyes and turned his back, hunching up on the ground to protect himself from the Magicals’ hypnotic gaze.

  ‘Come now, away,’ Wrinkles called to the white elves. ‘Quickly!’ He remembered all too well the pledge the Queen had made to forswear all contact with the Giants so many years ago. He set about melting a Waterway in the ice.