‘That’s right, because if she’s innocent, she’ll come up unhurt and if she’s guilty, she’ll drown!’ Henry Timms said.
‘Ah, I don’t know,’ Sam Smith said. ‘If she comes up not drowned doesn’t that mean she is a witch?’
‘Let’s just do it!’
‘Yeah! The sooner the better,’ another man called.
‘We’ll build the ducking stool right away!’ John Carter shouted. ‘Come on, men! A good ducking in Lop Lake will soon tell us just what sort of a woman Effie Waters really is!’
17
A Challenge for Questrid
Questrid hugged his big coat round his shoulders. A wind was blowing up and snow swirled off the stable roof and scattered around them.
‘Wow. I need to think about this.’ He got up and paced round the yard nervously. ‘I can’t say I’m not scared, because I am. Go through the melt hole? Wow. What if I drown? Or if I do get through to the other side, what if I never come back?’
The pixicles looked at each other sympathetically, as if it were they who were having this problem. They shrugged.
‘Would be a jolly disgracing-shame,’ Grampy said. ‘Tragic-sad.’ He didn’t sound sad.
‘If only Copper were here,’ Questrid said. ‘She’d know what to do.’
‘Oh, the lovely Coppery person! I am loving her!’ Squitcher said, slapping a hand on his knee. ‘I am wishing she was here too. She is always having such good ideas.’
‘Great. Thanks,’ Questrid muttered.
‘Oh, Lanky Boy, we are never forgetting your help in the past. Never. And it is you who are here and who we need to help us now. Will you do it?’
‘First I must talk to Greenwood. He knows about this lake, but he’s …’
‘The Uncle Greenwood of Spindle Tree House? I have heard Coppery One talk of him. A bendy-wood person, isn’t he?’
‘Yes. But he started being odd after he went to Pol Lake and there’s the acorn and now you come with this story about the eye-cycle … They’re all connected.’
‘Please do go see him. We will not go-leaving you until we have an answer in the jolly affirmative-yes mode,’ Squitcher said. ‘Then we will go back home with our eye-cycle.’ He folded his arms. ‘We will wait here.’
‘You can’t just sit here all night!’
‘We will be very jolly,’ Squitcher said, smiling. ‘All is chilly-well here.’
Questrid gulped. He looked at the two tiny pixicles sitting on the bench swinging their little legs backwards and forwards; both had their beady eyes fixed on him like a pair of pale birds watching their prey.
‘You’re jolly good with your nose and your eyes,’ Squitcher said. ‘A tracker. A hunter. You would be finding our precious eye-cycle easily.’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know.’
‘Well, we will sit and wait,’ Grampy said, taking a swig of his fizzy drink. ‘You are the one we choose. Thank you.’
‘Oh, please—’
‘Coppery One would not be taking so long thinking this one out,’ Squitcher said, playing with a ball of snow. ‘But then she’s very clever-brainy, is she not?’
Questrid jumped up and brushed the snow off his coat. ‘I’ll go see Greenwood now.’
He knocked on Greenwood’s door. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you,’ he called out rather breathlessly. ‘But I need to ask you something. Are you well enough for me to come in?’ He steadied himself against the wooden wall trying to ignore the sway of the tree around him.
‘Go away!’ Greenwood shouted. ‘I need to be alone!’
Questrid went in anyway.
Greenwood was lying on his bed in his dressing gown staring up at the ceiling. He did not look round at Questrid.
‘How are you?’ Questrid asked gently. He felt embarrassed to see Greenwood reduced to such a feeble figure.
‘I’m not here,’ Greenwood said weakly.
‘Oh.’ Questrid stared out through the three windows at the snowy mountains, but the landscape moved as the treetop bent in the wind and he was hit by a wave of sickness. A sudden gust shook the branch so badly that two books fell off Greenwood’s desk.
‘Happens all the time,’ Greenwood said lightly. ‘Suppose you feel it more; Stone and Rock in you.’
‘You don’t look well. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I had to come.’ Questrid sat down beside the bed. ‘It’s about Pol Lake.’
Greenwood sat up sharply. His face was much more lined than Questrid remembered it. ‘What? Why? Why that lake? Why my darlings and that lake?’
Questrid patted Greenwood’s arm and tried to smile reassuringly. ‘Greenwood, let me tell you why the pixicles have come and what they want me to do.’
When Greenwood had heard Questrid’s story, he swung himself off the bed, stood up and stared through one of the windows. He was trembling. ‘That lake is dangerous. I know it is.’ He ruffled his hair with a shaking hand. ‘Are you asking me to give you permission to go?’ he said at last. ‘Or are you asking me for some other reason?’
‘Greenwood, I’m sorry, really sorry, but I saw you – at the lake …’ Questrid pulled out the stone acorn holder from his pocket and held it up. ‘I saw you throw this into the water—’
Greenwood groaned as he took the acorn from him.
‘I did that? I don’t remember. You can’t trust that lake. You never know what it’s up to and its magic is so strong. There are forces at work at Pol Lake that would give you nightmares for the rest of your life!’ He paused to look at the acorn. ‘I’ve never seen it before.’
‘You have. You threw it—’
‘Did I? I did!’ Greenwood spun round. ‘Quickly, tell me how did you get this? Have you looked inside?’ He was already unscrewing the acorn holder with fumbling fingers. He pulled out the slip of paper. When he read, HELP ME, he lurched, as if his legs had snapped. ‘No, it can’t be! But—’ He fell back on the bed. ‘How did you …? How …?’
‘Take care! You’re ill!’
‘A message! A message from her! It must be! How did you get it?’
‘I’ll tell you. Sit down again. Just listen.’
Questrid described how he’d followed Greenwood to the lake, seen what he did and then how the acorn holder had come back. He described the blonde girl at the other side of the water. Greenwood grabbed Questrid’s wrist.
‘A girl? How old?’
‘I don’t know. I couldn’t say, but—’
‘But she was blonde? Really white-blonde?’
Questrid nodded.
‘I can’t bear it, I truly can’t bear it,’ Greenwood moaned. ‘It’s easier to be confused. Confused and frozen solid rather than this! To be so close!’
Questrid didn’t understand him so he went on: ‘And now,’ he said, ‘the pixicles want me to go down there, through the melt hole and—’
‘Yes, you must! You must!’
‘The pixicles want me to find their lost eye-cycle and I don’t know if I dare but that girl – I think she needs help too and—’
‘Oh, but yes, yes, you could do it!’ Greenwood interrupted. ‘You could find them. You could do it. We don’t have long. Pol Lake will freeze over again – if it hasn’t already. That will be the end. The last time they can escape for years and years …’
‘Who? That girl with the blonde hair?’
‘Yes. That’s Crystal, my daughter.’
‘Years ago I had a family of my own … When I found you lost on the mountains, covered in snow, Questrid, half-frozen and weeping for your mother, it was almost as if I was being given another chance to be a father … But I don’t think I took it, did I? I couldn’t. I was frozen, struck with splinters of ice in my heart, ever since they disappeared …
‘We were out exploring; Fountain my wife, Crystal and I. Crystal was about one and a half, such a dear, dear poppet! I’d just finished a wood-picture for her – a picture of us three … We found Pol Lake by chance and we were so enchanted! Hah! Enchanted is the right word, I now think! I shoul
d have sensed how strong its forces were. We walked out on the ice. We could see straightaway that it was all frozen except in the middle where it was the clearest brightest turquoise blue. We’d never seen anything like it. Effie, that’s what I called my dear Fountain, was pulled to it, as if it were a magnet. I called out to her to take care, she was holding the baby in her arms, but she kept on going towards it. Something was wrong. I felt a tension in the air, a sort of snapping … like jaws … “Something’s calling me,” she told me. “Can you hear it?” I couldn’t hear anything. “Come away!” I yelled, but I dared not run. I could feel the ice cracking under the soles of my boots. She tilted her head to listen – not to me, but to something else, something I couldn’t hear. She looked so pretty with the sun glinting on her blonde head, her little elfish chin … She went closer and closer to the water. I told her again to keep away. The place was magic. Dangerous. I felt those jaws coming closer, ready to bite. I called her back. I went towards her. I didn’t think … But she was being pulled, Questrid, dragged by some great force down there! Before I could reach her, she leaped in – into the water! There was no splash, nothing. She just disappeared. She vanished as if she’d never existed at all and took our baby with her.
‘Oh, Questrid, I haven’t been able to remember that terrible incident for years and years … They both slipped through the water as if they were slipping through a tear in a sheet of silk … and that was the last I saw of her: of both of them. It’s as if I’ve been stuck in some awful long sleep with no dreams and no thoughts and nothing but emptiness …’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Questrid said. ‘I don’t know what to say. It’s terrible. It’s—’
‘Yes, terrible. I knew it was magic, and I tried to fight it. I was certain they weren’t dead. I knew they were not dead. I’d heard of a Gateway to the World Below … We’d heard Grint was down there. He’d loved Effie once … But I couldn’t get through the Gateway. I tried. I’m all Wood, Questrid, as you know, and although Wood folk can swim since they float easily, they cannot dive. Cannot pass through water.’
‘But couldn’t another Water person have gone down and brought them back?’ Questrid asked.
‘Yes, yes, but there were no Water people for miles and miles that I knew of! Effie herself comes from far away over the other side of Malachite Mountain. And I had no time. I tried to dive but I bobbed up like a cork. I put rocks in my pockets to weigh me down but it was useless. I came back to the lake with Stone people and Water people as soon as I could, but the Gateway was nearly closed; the ice was creeping around, sealing it off. And I’d grown confused so I had great difficulty explaining myself. When the melt hole closed up finally, I did too. I shut down. All I knew was that Fountain and Crystal were lost to me. We tried to break up the ice, we tried everything but nothing worked—’
‘Until?’
‘That day you followed me. You see I often went there without knowing why, but on that occasion I could remember Effie’s leaving. It was because the Gateway was open. I had your acorn – I’m sorry, I’d picked it up admiring it and pocketed it by mistake. There was a slip of paper in it – as if you knew! I wrote a few words and I threw it in. I hurried back to get help but I fell ill – the place is cursed, enchanted, whatever you might call it, and I’ve been out of my mind ever since.’
‘The Gateway is still open,’ Questrid said, leaning forward encouragingly.
Greenwood’s eyes gleamed.
‘We have a chance!’
18
Questrid Takes the Plunge
Crystal lingered outside the prison, staring up at the barred windows, wondering if her mother were behind one of them. The prison building, which she’d never looked closely at before, was well kept with a good roof and stout doors. Typical of Grint to maintain the prison, she thought.
Eventually she made her way back to their block through the grim dusty streets. Without her mum she felt light and unreal and incomplete.
The empty carry-box bumping lightly against her thigh reminded her of her promise to protect the sly-ugg. She’d failed. It had vanished. She was doubly alone.
She glanced over her shoulder nervously, looking up the road towards the Square. Grint needed Effie, but no one needed her. Would someone try and get rid of her? She’d better lock herself inside tonight, bolt the door; arm herself with a knife …
Her block was all dark and forbidding. She couldn’t go in. She turned away and climbed up towards the trees surrounding Lop Lake.
She almost stopped breathing when she saw what had been done there.
On the far side where the ground was clear of rocks, the Town Guard had begun to erect a ducking machine. It made Crystal feel sick to see it. It consisted of a long metal arm, like a seesaw, from which a chair dangled. Men pulling on the rope would swing it out over the dirty lake water and then drop it down or haul it up from the water.
It will not happen. It cannot happen, Crystal told herself. It is too horrible. Inhuman. Something will stop it. I know it will. It must!
‘Help me!’ she whispered to the flat grey water of Lop Lake. ‘I asked you for help – I sent the acorn. Greenwood, whoever you are, help me!’
She felt a sudden twist in the air; something seemed to snap.
She stepped back, watching the water all the time, knowing something was going to happen.
Right in the centre of the lake a bubble slowly surfaced and erupted with a burping sound. She heard a distant, surging rumble. Ripples ringed out one upon another all the way to her feet, and sent the water lap-lapping against the shore.
Something’s coming! Something’s coming!
It was a boy. He shot out of the water as if he’d been fired from a cannon, sailing through the air in a gigantic arc. His long scarf trailed behind him like a banner. He landed with a bone-crunching crash on the ground beside her and lay immobile for several long moments. Just when Crystal decided he was definitely dead, he got slowly to his feet.
‘Wow!’ He was grinning from ear to ear. ‘It worked! I’m not even damp!’ He picked up his fallen hat. ‘Wow!’
Crystal was surprised and not surprised. She’d wanted someone to come and they had. ‘Greenwood?’ she said.
Questrid shook his head. ‘No. Are you Crystal?’
She had never seen anyone with such twinkling eyes nor such a smiley face. She nodded.
‘My name’s Questrid. I’m from the other side. The Marble Mountains. Gosh, it’s warm down here, isn’t it?’ He unwound his scarf and took off his gloves.
She knew he must be waiting for her to speak but she couldn’t say a word.
‘I got your message,’ Questrid added, grinning. ‘It was you, wasn’t it? You want help?’
Crystal fought back the tears that were threatening to ruin everything. She nodded.
‘Well, here I am. Questrid, at your service!’ and he gave her a mock bow.
‘Where’s the Greenwood person?’ she said at last, looking at the water as if expecting him to fly out too.
‘He couldn’t come. He sent me.’ He held out the acorn holder. ‘He sent this so you’d know I was his messenger.’
‘I want Greenwood,’ Crystal said.
‘I’m sorry, I’ll try and explain.’ Questrid looked round for somewhere to sit and suddenly saw the awfulness of his surroundings. ‘Wow! What a dump! Is there anywhere a bit nicer we could go?’
Crystal nodded and walked back towards her block. ‘This way.’
Questrid followed, staring round at the deserted ruined buildings. There were few lights, pathetic little trees, weedy flowers. No snow. He’d had nightmares that were more fun than this. The only good thing about this place was the lack of people – no one around to notice his arrival.
‘This is where I live.’ Crystal opened the door of their apartment.
‘I see.’ He looked round at the bare room. ‘It’s lovely,’ he said. ‘Is grey the in colour down here, then?’
Crystal looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean?�
��
‘Nothing, nothing, just—Nothing.’
Questrid shivered and huddled closer to the fire. It wasn’t cold, not compared to the mountains, but the atmosphere was dank, like being in a cellar, and he felt chilled to his bones in this room.
‘Do you live here alone?’
‘With my mum, but—’ She couldn’t tell him yet.
‘What’s it called, this place?’
‘This is just our block in the Town.’
‘Right.’
‘How did you come through the water?’ Crystal asked at last. ‘Why didn’t Greenwood come? Who is he, this Greenwood?’
‘You don’t know? I wonder what you do know? Greenwood’s your—’ He stopped, suddenly realizing just how shocking his news was going to be. ‘You’d better prepare yourself, Crystal. I’ve got a lot to tell you.’
Crystal sat very still while he told her what he had learned from Greenwood. She didn’t interrupt or question him but let him tell the whole story in one go.
‘It’s hard to believe. To suddenly learn that I have a father …’ Her chin quivered. ‘To know where I come from, after all this time …’
‘I know, I had a similar experience when I found I had a mother. And I found out I was half Rock and there I was living with all these Wood people and they hated each other – the Woods and the Rocks, I mean. Really weird.’
A hint of a smile flickered over Crystal’s face. ‘So you understand a bit how I feel?’
Questrid nodded. ‘You feel all undone, that’s what Copper would say. Unravelled! Yes, finding you have a new parent is really weird. I don’t feel like other people feel about their mums,’ he admitted. ‘Ruby, my mum, is kind and funny and clever, but I suppose I just don’t know her and we don’t live together … One day, maybe we’ll be closer … But I love everyone at Spindle House—’
Crystal jumped. ‘Oh, Mum talked about a spindle tree!’
‘Did she? It really is a tree – a massive one. Everyone lives in it except me. I live in the stable and I have a metal bed. And I like the horses. But listen, we can’t just sit here chatting,’ Questrid said, getting up and pacing around. ‘We have to—’
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