by Edrei Cullen
Almost immediately Dribbles sat up. Don Posiblemente held the spectacles up in front of her eyes and clicked his fingers at a nearby bookshelf. A tiny creature wearing glasses much too big for its head fluttered over to him and hovered in front of the spectacles. Dribbles showed no reaction to the creature at all.
After a time Don Posiblemente lowered the spectacles.
‘Interesting,’ he said, looking at Ella. ‘This is a Literditty, by the way,’ he added, pointing at the bespectacled imp. ‘Literditties clean books. They live here with me. They shouldn’t really, because it contravenes the Ban somewhat, but I get lonely holed up here on my own. I feed them an Antidote to protect them from the Earth’s pollution. It is a mixture of Elven Flitterwig tears from the stockpile at the Rooniun hospital, among other things. Samuel, co-chairman of the Rooniun, is good enough to send me a supply every month. Blood works too, but not as well.’
Ella had noticed bits of something flying about. She tweaked her ear, and suddenly the hovering Literditty appeared completely before her. She looked up at the bookshelves. There were lots more Literditties up there, poring over open books.
Don Posiblemente stood up and tweaked his own ear, and Dribbles fell back on the floor and began to snore. ‘You see,’ he continued, ‘according to the Flitterwig Files, ordinary humans can’t see the Magical world through the spectacles. Only part-Magical humans can. I just wanted to check that she wasn’t one of us. One can never be sure.’
The Literditty said something to Don Posiblemente in Spanish. He nodded, and it flew back up into the bookshelves.
‘They have a collection of green tomatoes waiting to go to bed, red, fed,’ Dixon whispered in Ella’s ear by way of translation.
Don Posiblemente plucked Dixon out of Ella’s dungarees. Holding him up in the air, he threw his head back and laughed. ‘She asked if she could get back to work, actually,’ he said.
‘That’s what I was about to say, neigh,’ said Dixon, turning beetroot through his green skin.
Ella wondered what the Flitterwig Files were, exactly. She remembered that Wrinkles had mentioned the Magusian Tomes, and so had Manna, in passing, but the exact meaning of either eluded her.
Don Posiblemente saw the question in her eyes. ‘The Magusian Tomes,’ he explained, ‘are a collection of cryptic historical and predictive papers outlining the various connections between the worlds of Earth and Magus. They are kept under lock and key in Magus.’ He paused. ‘The Flitterwig Files, on the other hand, are our Flitterwig equivalent: a record of what our Flitterwig ancestors can recall from the Magusian Tomes way back when they were Magicals themselves. They are also a record of what has taken place since Flitterwiggery came into being.
‘For now, all you need to know is that I am their keeper. They were entrusted to me by my father, who was given them by his own father, and so on and so forth. I had to leave England and hide overseas to protect them. England is the melting pot of Flitterwiggery, you see. There was a serious breach in security a number of years ago when some Flitterwigs in England, using information from the Flitterwig Files, almost got through a Mirror of Foreverness and into Magus. In order to keep the secrets within the Files safe from those who would do harm to the Natural Order’ (here he lowered his voice to a deep whisper), ‘I was forced to flee and live in hiding here in Spain. Not a single Flitterwig (other than Samuel, of course) has found me yet, until you. With a little help, I suspect.’ He smiled at Ella. ‘One of the secrets our ancestors remembered from the Magusian Tomes and recorded in the Files was the Prophecy of the Clearheart. The Clearheart is the only part-human Magical the Dewdrops will respond to on Earth, should the Queen and Grand Duke desert their Kingdom and come here themselves. If the Clearheart is needed to restore the Dewdrops to Magus, it is written that the relationship between Magicals and Flitterwigs will be changed forever. It would appear that this day has come. Which makes me wonder – have you found your Protector yet?’
Ella looked at him uncomprehendingly.
Don Posiblemente nodded to himself. ‘I suppose you will find him or he will find you when the time is right, but it is part of the Prophecy. You will need your Protector if you are to complete your quest.’
Ella felt light-headed. At that moment the dwarf reappeared with a tray of cheese sandwiches and milkshakes. The smell of grilled cheese tickled Ella’s nostrils. Don Posiblemente passed her a milkshake.
In between sips, Ella listened hard to what Don Posiblemente had to say. He read the silver notes and explained to her the qualities she would have to demonstrate on her quest in order to prove her Clearheartedness to the Dewdrops. He used words like courage, determination, open-mindedness, goodwill, forgiveness, love, sacrifice and trust. It seemed that so far she had displayed open-mindedness and courage and trust. When she asked what all the bits about water lizards and rusty cans meant, Don Posiblemente told her to be patient. He was sure that, in good time, all would reveal itself.
Ella tried to remember everything he told her, but a lot of it made no sense whatsoever.
It was eight o’clock at night when Ella bade farewell to the great gentleman. Don Posiblemente showed her into the hall and ushered her to the foot of the spiral staircase.
‘You’ll get home more quickly this way,’ he said, pointing up the stairs to where the starry sky rippled like liquid. ‘It’s a pond of sorts,’ he explained, seeing Ella’s look of trepidation. ‘A magic one, of course. Water is an extremely efficient mode of transport.’
Ella had no idea how the water was hanging in the air like that, but she took the first step, with Dribbles following obediently behind.
‘Thank you for coming here,’ said Don Posiblemente. ‘You trusted the riddles and thus the Dewdrops. You are very brave. And don’t worry about remembering everything I have told you. It will come to you when you need it.’
He leaned across the banister and then, smiling, he tucked a small bottle of green liquid into her hand, squeezing it firmly closed with his own.
‘This elixir will help you,’ he said, ‘when you most need it. Remember, child, Nature is your greatest ally. Now go.’
chapter 19
lollipops & lobster claws
A cold wind whipped Ella’s cheeks as she stepped off the plane back in England. Dixon poked his head out of her dungarees and squealed like an excited piglet. Ella felt a little disorientated. One minute they’d been climbing a staircase out of Don Posiblemente’s house; the next they were back in their hotel room. During the entire flight home she had wondered how this was possibly possible. In fact she had wondered about how so many things lately were possibly possible.
Mr P stood waiting for them in the busy arrivals hall. One look at his face made it clear to Ella that Granny and Grandpa were still missing.
‘Your father has gone ahead with his driver,’ Mr P told Ella. ‘We’re to follow him to the Lollipop Factory, but at a distance. As a security measure he doesn’t want you to go home without him.’ Mr P patted her reassuringly on the head, as if this was positive news.
Ella sighed. Three days in Spain, and she hadn’t set eyes on her father once.
She sat back in the car and ruefully considered her key life relationships.
Father: Hated her, or at least refused to have anything to do with her.
Mother and brothers: Still dead, no matter how special she was.
Granny and Grandpa: Shrinkified and frozen, and disappeared off the face of the Earth, all because of her.
Dribbles: Not only mean to her, but now afraid of her too.
Manna: Seemed kind, but was a rather flighty grandmother of whose existence she had been unaware until a few days ago.
It was ridiculous. She was apparently the only person who could save the Magical Kingdom of Magus, and her only friend in the world was an emotionally unstable pixie.
Ella was tired, and she had had about enough of being confused. The thrill of being magic was a bit overwhelming today and she wished she could just go home to
Granny and Grandpa and have a rest.
She rubbed her nose hard and reached into the front of her dungarees for Dixon.
Who wasn’t there.
Great, she thought. That’s all I need. She twiddled her ear and saw half of Dixon disappearing into Dribbles’ handbag. She thought this was super weird until, suddenly, she remembered what the gnome had told her that day under the willow tree in the Dell. Magicals love sugar, he’d said, but Magicals and sugar, particularly processed sugar coupled with chemicals, are a bad mix. Dixon knew they were going to a place where lollipops were manufactured. Lollipops are pretty much made of sugar. Dixon was hiding from her so he could get to the lollipops.
Ella shut her eyes. This wasn’t good.
All the way to the Lollipop Factory she tried to think of ways of retrieving Dixon from Dribbles’ handbag, but to no avail. Dribbles wouldn’t let her so much as move a hand towards her. And perhaps it was because she was tired, or perhaps it was the absence of Dixon in her immediate presence, but, try as she might, Ella couldn’t conjure up the slightest heat in her shoulderblades or flutter of her hair or itch in her ears to help her out.
Sitting back against the leather seat of the car, she shuddered as she remembered the gnome’s description of Trogglification. She shuddered again at the thought of this happening to Dixon. She tweaked her ear once more and thought magical thoughts, but all she managed to do was to make Dribbles more suspicious. The slobbery woman clutched her bag even more closely to her ample chest.
Why was it, Ella wondered, that sometimes she was not magic at all, and sometimes she was much more magic than she could ever have imagined?
When they arrived at the Lollipop Factory, a man in a white coat rushed up to the car and breathlessly instructed Ella to stay put until her father was safely inside. This was the icing on the cake of Ella’s rubbishy morning. She watched her father step out of his shiny Jaguar and stride through the main door beneath the sign that said MONTGOMERY’S SLURPLES, elegant in a dark blue suit, his hunched shoulders and grim face barely recognisable to her.
By the time she was given permission to get out of the car, she just wanted to punch someone. But that wouldn’t help anything, so she stayed close to Dribbles, her eyes fixed protectively on the handbag.
‘Shoo, child,’ said Dribbles, swatting at Ella with her walking stick. ‘You’re going to trip me up if you stand any closer. Go on. Get away.’
Ella fell back, a dark scowl on her soft face.
However, in the first chamber of the factory that produced the famous Slurple lollipop, she found herself immediately and completely distracted. The clear tubes pumping rainbow-coloured syrups into shining tubs and the drifting wisps of honeycomb mist floating past her nose made any other thoughts impossible. Hot, bubbling molasses gurgled in copper pots. Ella’s mouth watered longingly. She tweaked her ear to see if her magical senses were working. Nothing. She slipped the spectacles on and craned her neck to see past a procession of visitors who had filtered in as she dawdled. She had to keep an eye on Dribbles and her handbag, now wobbling through a door at the far end of the room.
The containers in the next chamber were enormous. They frothed and bubbled busily. Plops of colourful goo spat up in the air and fell like giant raindrops into creamy folds of syrup. Ella had to concentrate hard to pull herself away from the lure of the sweet heaven about her and search for Dribbles’ handbag again.
There was Dixon! She could see him way over on the other side of the chamber. He was balancing on the handbag’s metal clasp, a wild look in his eyes, his droopy cap standing rigidly upright, his hair sticking out from underneath it.
Ella had her skateboard in her backpack. If she was quick, she could skate across the room and grab him. She whipped out the board and jumped on, flying forward with one push of her foot.
Past a horde of unsuspecting visitors she whooshed, in her bright red specs, across the clean white floor. With perfect timing she grabbed Dixon from the handbag, but the slippery floor was making her trajectory too fast. Dixon stabbed at her with something sharp. She looked at him in surprise, and then, her concentration thrown, crashed head first, with an almighty wallop, into the side of a tub of syrup. She found herself flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling.
This was turning out to be a really bad day.
‘Sorry, Ella,’ said Dixon, hauling a reel of thread out of his backpack and taking off across her tummy. ‘Really. Sorry, jolly, golly, sorry,’ he repeated, looking at her over his shoulder, his eyes a peculiar purple. ‘Found needle and thread in Dribbles’ bag. Pretty clever, hey?’
Ella was about to yell something furious at him, but her words were cut off by Dribbles grabbing her by the braces of her dungarees and pulling her across the floor.
‘What the blazes do you think you’re playing at now?’ Dribbles asked. ‘And what are these?’ she hissed, plucking the spectacles from Ella’s face and stuffing them in her handbag. She grabbed her charge roughly by the arm. ‘It’s high time you were put out of harm’s way.’
Ella struggled against the woman’s iron grip, doing her best to keep sight of Dixon. Visible to her now only in bits, he had lassoed a screw at the top of a mixing bowl with a length of thread and was flipping himself into a black hole of fresh, warm lollipop syrup. He floated on his back, spewing mouthfuls of sweet liquid into the air. A waft of honeycomb drifted past Ella’s nose, making her dippy enough to stop struggling against her governess.
‘Yippideedippitydoo!’ Dixon yelled, turning himself over and diving deep into the sugary bath.
Dribbles hauled Ella away from the factory floor, threw her limp body into a dark room and slammed the door behind her. ‘I’ll deal with you later,’ she threatened. No sooner had she done so, however, than a swirl of white dust encircled Dribbles’ mighty frame. It took no less than twelve deranged Troggles (who had entirely misunderstood the Duke’s instructions to distract the fat lady), to drag the unconscious woman out of sight and lock her in a bathroom.
Ella stood up in the dark room, sucked on her inhaler, worried about her specs, and turned to look at the dim red light glowing behind her.
From a tube through the wall hung a contraption resembling an oversized pair of tweezers, with each arm ending in what looked like a huge marble. Above it shone a neon sign:
GIANT LOLLIPOP MOULD.
RED. LIMITED EDITION.
Every few seconds the marble-shaped jaws crushed themselves together against a gush of crimson syrup, like a nutcracker closing around a tennis ball. When the vice opened up again, a newly moulded giant lollipop ball dropped gently into an enormous holding bay.
As Ella tried to get her bearings, she heard a voice through the darkness.
‘Hello,’ it said.
Ella turned around.
A boy stood in front of her, his eyes behind his spectacles luminous in the dark. It was her neighbour, Charlie Snoppit! The boy in the castanet!
Charlie stepped forward.
Ella backed away. Memories of the fishmonger’s sons and the black-eyed demon with flashing claws drowned even the smallest prick of magical activity in her ears. But the boy appeared harmless enough now.
Ella didn’t know which instinct to trust. Her spectacles were gone, and so was Dixon, and the smell of sugar was making it hard for her to think straight.
The boy pointed at the giant lollipop mould. Hurtling along the tube, his arms held above his head, were bits of Dixon. Out the end of the tube he flew, shooting straight into the jaws of the circular gnasher.
Ella was confused. Could the boy see the pixie too?
The vice let him go and down he fell, a giant lollipopped pixie with a syrup-covered head, two drippy arms and two sticky legs.
‘Ellaaaa!’ he yelled as he fell. ‘Don’t worry, Ella, I’m fiiiiiiiiine!’
With a clatter and whoosh like pebbles on the seashore, a trapdoor opened and the newly moulded Dixon lollipop disappeared along with all the others.
Charlie looked
from Dixon back to Ella. Could the girl see the pixie too? She wasn’t wearing any magical spectacles. He found himself rooted to the spot, befuddled by an overwhelming longing to taste the luscious liquid in the tube.
He tried to keep his mind on his mission. The Duke had told him that all he had to do was smuggle the Troggles to the factory in his dad’s car and help them get the girl into a trunk that Saul would deliver there for his attention. And because he knew the Lollipop Factory like the back of his hand (oh, how many Saturdays had Charlie spent here while his father worked overtime?), he had followed her easily enough without being seen. When he saw where the big fat lady dragged her, he had come into this room the back way, pulling the trunk behind him. No one ever paid Charlie any attention, so it had been easy.
But now that he was here with Ella herself, Charlie couldn’t concentrate. Not only was the smell of sugar syrup messing with his senses (for Charlie had a wicked sweet tooth himself), but he was feeling so weak lately that Ella’s presence was turning him to jelly. Charlie knew that he wouldn’t be able to harm this girl by helping the Troggles trap her in the trunk. Worse still, he didn’t even feel like harming her. Embarrassment of all embarrassments, in fact, all he wanted to do was help her. He blew furiously in and out of his nostrils and tried to focus, wishing he wasn’t so tired.
Brought to her senses by realising that the bits of Dixon she could see were in danger, Ella closed her eyes and tweaked her ear. She couldn’t feel an itch of any sort, no heat in her shoulderblades at all. Nothing. Then she remembered the elixir Don Posiblemente had given her. What had he said? ‘This will help you when you most need it. Remember, child, Nature is your greatest ally.’ She grabbed the bottle of green liquid from her backpack, opened it, and took a small sip.
Almost immediately she felt calmer. Dixon loomed clear and complete before her, his mouth open, swallowing great mouthfuls of something that looked like cranberry juice. Lollipop balls fell with a splash and a splatter into the pot of red liquid.