The Icicle Illuminarium

by N. J. Gemmell

  ‘I get it now,’ I whisper in horror. ‘Why we’re here. Darius’s face when he first saw us.’

  ‘Oh, I can just imagine,’ Bone nods. ‘Because he knew that your arrival would give Basti a new lease of life – something splendid to live for all of a sudden. Which meant that your rejuvenated uncle was suddenly, most inconveniently, in Lady Adora’s way,’ Bone concludes, his voice dropping low. ‘As are you.’

  ‘We need to save Basti.’ Scruff rushes up beside me. ‘And us. Need slingshots, bows, arrows, those jeeps in the stables. A major assault here, Company T.’

  ‘Can any of you actually drive?’ Bone enquires.

  ‘All we need is a brick for the pedals. I’ve done it before,’ I jump in.

  Bone looks at me admiringly – ‘You Aussie girls are quite something, aren’t you?’ – then his voice drops, he warns that Lady Adora is quite mad, and she’s becoming madder by the minute. Horribly unpredictable, cruel. She’s talked in the past about Darius perhaps slipping open a few cages of the Reptilarium one day, while he’s visiting, just to nudge things along. And she’s getting impatient. Wanting things happening, before Basti starts thinking about his will and the inconvenient new people who should be in it. Kidnapping us was a crazy spur of the moment thing, on Darius’s part, but now the two of them have to decide what to do next. ‘He’ll do anything for love, whatever she says. He’s smitten, desperate to please.’

  I slam my hand to my mouth, feel sick. We have to alert Basti. Get out of here. Fast. No time to waste. The roof. Out of the oval windows. It has to be done. Without another thought I climb out onto the horribly slippery slate tiles. ‘Whooaaa!’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Bone barks.

  ‘Getting us out of here.’ I wobble … slip … regain my footing and peer over the edge – shriek and step back, near the window. It’s a long way down … but this roof is a way out. Focus here, girl, focus. Basti’s in danger. Imminent danger. We have to get out of here. Warn him, protect him. Scruff jumps out beside me, just like that, on my wavelength; Bert exclaims in horror; Pin wails, remembering the last terrifying roof experience in his life. ‘How did we get tangled up in this?’ I declare to the freezing night air.

  Bone commands me to get inside this instant, this is madness – ‘Insubordination in the ranks will not be tolerated here! Running away right now is no way to save it!’ Eh? Who says? He goes on to explain that Darius and Lady Adora have it all worked out, that many of Basti’s species are endangered and extremely colourful and the Reptilarium is to become the most fabulously exotic fashion house. Basti’s never considered the commercial possibilities – but she certainly has.

  ‘Perdita!’ Berti gasps in horror, thinking of Basti’s beloved pet cobra as a handbag.

  ‘Oh yes, B. And now you’ve come along. They’ll be thinking fast, trying to work out what to do – So you, Company T, must think faster. But not from a dangerously slippery, frosty roof. That’s five storeys high.’

  I look wildly around. Slippery slate tiles, barbed wire left over from the army in big rolls along the gables – a massive drop to instant death. So the Armed Forces didn’t want rooftop shenanigans either.

  ‘Nope, it’s not going to work,’ Bone shrugs at me in triumph. ‘Inside, K. Now.’

  ‘Hang on, Lord Bone of Boneland. You seem to find your way in – and out – of this place. So you’ve got to help us out of here.’

  ‘Oh no, we can’t have you breaking away from me just yet. Can’t have you gone as soon as I’ve found you. Plus you don’t have the skills. Plus you might give me away. Plus I’m the one who knows how the people in this house work.’

  I flash my eyes at him – I’ve met my match here.

  ‘Now don’t get all huffy on me, K.’ He smiles his widest smile. ‘You’re my second in command. My 2IC, remember? I need you.’

  ‘Please. Help. Us.’ I back closer to the edge of the building, the enormous drop; Pin yelps, blocking his ears, squeezing his eyes shut. ‘Bone, I am going alone here if you don’t come on board with this. We need your expertise.’ I step back another step. Feeling my way. Another. Slip. They all gasp. Right myself, my foot wedged in an old copper gutter. My heart is pumping so hard it feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest. But Bone will not win this.

  ‘Stop! You are mad. Think about it, K,’ he cries. ‘I certainly have. If you escape, it’ll take quite some time to make your way to London. Which gives Lady Adora the chance to alert Darius, to put their plan into action super-fast. Darius will make a little visit to Basti, who’s always home. Unlock the cages. Let all the deadly snakes slither loose. The reptiles won’t escape immediately – Darius will have time to depart. Basti, of course, will not. A tragic accident. So don’t give them the excuse to set the ball rolling quite yet. Please. They need to make things happen before he changes his will – but he’s too distracted now; they think they’ve got a bit of time up their sleeves. So hold fire, Miss Scary Roof Girl. Escaping is not the right thing to do right now. You need to fight her from the inside. We have to think here. All of us. Together. Company T.’

  ‘But our dad?’ Bert says. ‘He would come into it, too …’

  Bone sighs. ‘Yes, yes, another spanner in the works that’s appeared out of the blue. Lady Adora is now hoping that your father – who’s been jolly well weakened, from what I hear – will die of a broken heart when he learns of your disappearance … and possible demise.’ He stares at me icily.

  Nooooooooo. That’s why we’re here? Can it get any worse? But he’s right: even if we did try to reach Dad or Basti, London is hours by road; Bath even worse. The lonely North Sea is ahead of us and there’s a great forest behind us and there’s not even an island close, or a boat. Scruff cries that we could tie Hebe up, hold her hostage. I roll my eyes. Climb in through the window, in defeat. Nope, we’ll never be escaping from this roof; too much barbed wire and too steep. Bone knows it.

  ‘Okay, stand by, Company T, I have a plan,’ I announce as soon as I’m safely back inside. Don’t. But no one needs to know that yet. Especially Commander Bone, who really shouldn’t be settling into the idea that he’s the only leader in this place.

  ‘I knew Kicky would save us!’ Pin claps his hands in excitement and relief. ‘She’s always got a plan, Bone.’ Scruff climbs back inside.

  ‘Oh she does, does she?’ Bone looks at me in a challenge. Shakes his head like he doesn’t believe it, like nothing will save us now. We’ll see about that, my smile says right back at him – I’ll devise a plan yet, just you wait. He flashes his beautiful smile, raises the V for Victory at me. We’ll do this.

  ‘Hey, that’s my sign!’ Scruff cries. ‘Mine and Dad’s.’

  Nup. It’s all of ours now. ‘We need to turn in, chaps,’ I bark orders, indicating the waiting beds. ‘Get a good kip. For tomorrow. Then it’s action stations, bright and early.’

  Because Bone’s not the only army commander here. And I need time to think. Bert, Scruff and Pin make their way to the army mattresses, as do I.

  ‘Well, I think I’ll just have to throw one up to you, captain,’ our new friend exclaims. ‘That means salute.’ He raises a crisp hand. ‘We’ll make a good team yet, Company T. And P, I’m on that beam right above you, don’t forget.’ With that, Bone jumps up, lies flat on his back on the thick beam, crosses his arms and with a loud snore pretends to sleep.

  Pin, of course, is enchanted.

  We all are.

  But I’m still trembling, from my time on the roof, from the revelations about Darius and Basti’s will, from all of it. Tossing and turning, thinking, thinking …

  A plan is formulating.

  Bone is not going to let us out of here yet. We can’t get through the bolted door. The Squeedlys are no help. We have to get to Lady Adora and Darius. Befriend them, talk to them, find out their plans and convince them to let us go – or make a run for it if none of the above works. And we have to find a way to contact Basti as quick as we can. Warn him. Which means get
ting out of this room. We have to find the Illuminarium’s vulnerable point. We have a rough idea of everyone in this house …

  I wake late. Bone is curled up in an oval window, staring out.

  ‘A plan, K, by any chance?’

  ‘Yep,’ I nod firmly.

  He grins wide, salutes, jumps down from the window and rushes over. ‘No time to waste, then!’ We rouse the others.

  ‘Well?’ Bert says expectantly, straight up.

  ‘We have to lure Hebe up here, Company T. She’ll be on school holidays at the moment, so she must be in the house,’ I explain. ‘She’s the only chink in the armour that I can think of.’

  ‘A pretty terrifying chink, if you ask me.’ Bone is shaking his head in disbelief.

  ‘She’s worth a try. Dad would want us to. Just to see …’ Because Dad always says to give things a go, and if you fail, well, so be it. At least you’ll have no regrets. ‘She’s a direct path to Lady Adora’s heart, plus she’s a kid and we know how kids work.’ Unlike grown-ups who are endlessly perplexing and contrary and I can never work them out. ‘This might just work. Well, fifty per cent … might.’

  ‘Ten,’ Bone says. ‘No, five.’

  But three Caddys nod obediently. Get it. Because Hebe could be a way out of this mess no matter how frightful she sounds. And I can’t think of anything else. But no way am I telling Bone Boy that. He needs no ammunition to cement the supremacy here. He just raises a single eyebrow at the plan and swings onto a beam. ‘Good luck with that, Company T. I won’t be here. I do not want a case of the Hebes in my life – far too delicate a constitution. The Squeedlys have warned that she’ll be my downfall.’ He lies along the beam on his back, closes his eyes and pretends to snore again, loudly.

  ‘Come on,’ Scruff urges his new mate.

  ‘I’ll be vanishing in a puff of smoke, old chap. I’m good at that, remember? And don’t any of you go mentioning me.’ He starts snoring again.

  Okay, one down, three left. ‘So, we need some good thinking here, troops. What would make Hebe come to us? How can we lure her into this room? Get her to unbolt that bolt?’

  Bert taps her head. ‘Hey, remember when we first got to the Reptilarium, when we’d stare out the window, desperate for escape? Looked at all those kids in the square preparing for their Christmas. Walking up the hill with their dads, playing with sleds. Playing. That’s the key word. Having fun. With friends. I wanted to be a part of it so much.’

  The ache of the alone – yes, me too. I shake my sister’s hand. Well done, old girl.

  ‘Playing, fun, friends … football. FOOTBALL!’ Scruff snatches up Dooky, which Bone has most conveniently forgotten. ‘A match. A noisy one. The room’s big enough.’

  ‘But what if the Squeedlys turn up to investigate, rather than your Hebe,’ Bone declares from his beam. ‘Just saying.’

  ‘To them, it’s just kids letting off steam,’ I explain. ‘At a regular hour this time, so there’s no harm in it. But to a child … it’s a whole other world.’

  ‘True, true,’ Bone says wearily. ‘You’ve got it all worked out, don’t you, K?’

  ‘Oh, come on, Bone Boy.’ Bert grins.

  ‘I’m really not sure I can get used to someone else calling all the shots in this house.’ He looks at me suspiciously.

  ‘This is to help us, mate. Just be here, please, at the start. To get the ball rolling, add to the noise.’

  ‘But I need my beauty sleep.’

  ‘Bone Boy, Bone Boy.’ We all giggle. Accompanied by a war clap that gets louder and louder.

  ‘Lord Bone of the Illuminarium to you, thank you very much,’ but he starts to smile.

  ‘Lord Bone on high! Illuminarium Man!’ We cry and clap in rhythm.

  He props a hand on a cheek, basks. Drops down. ‘All right, ladies and gentlemen, all right –’ the beautiful smile – ‘your Bone Boy is back. Just at the start. Right where you want him. And then I’ll be slipping away and you won’t even notice.’

  I kick the ball at his chest to celebrate. ‘Woohoo!’

  ‘Not like that you … you … desert girl thingy. All wrong. No killer instinct. Let me teach you.’

  ‘If you insist.’ I grin back, one side up, one side down. My crooked grin that Mum had exactly and used on Dad far too much, when he was driving her bananas but she’d be secretly laughing at it.

  ‘Goals,’ Bone snaps now. ‘Two. At either end. Pronto. You can’t have a match without them.’

  We look around. Goals? Hmmm.

  ‘The hospital beds, Kicky.’ Pin points.

  Yes! Perfect! Upended. We throw off mattresses and unclip brakes and wheel two metal frames to the far ends of the room. Actually, no, er, whizz them. They slip and spin and run from our grasp and we jump on top of them and glide across the vast expanse of the room. Like pucks on ice! Bert and I take down the net. Now we’ve got a racetrack! Two can pile on each frame, clinging to the front, then we speed from one end of the room to the other in tandem. Beyond fun!

  Then three are piling on, four. Me pushing the most, of course. Wheeeeeeeee! Best combination? Bone and Bert; Bone holding on with one arm stretched high like a charioteer and Bert squealing, yes squealing, her absolute delight of being next to him with massive eye-rolling from the rest of us.

  It sounds like thunder along the very floor of heaven with screams of joy arcing like arrows over the top of it. ‘I’ve never had so much fun in my life!’ Scruff shouts, his face red and puffed. Pin’s suddenly flat on his back on the ground, too exhausted for another round. I join him.

  ‘Up,’ Bone claps. ‘It’s time for battle. We need the goals in place. Beds upended, roger?’

  We prop up a metal bed frame at either end. Two goals. Perfect. ‘Okay, as much noise as you can,’ I command, but no one needs any direction. We’re off! Dooky is most obliging. I’m in goal at one end, Scruff in the other, and we play like the country depends on it.

  Suddenly, one by one, we realise a girl has slipped inside the door.

  Is watching us, her back against the wall.

  Is saying nothing.

  ‘The disease,’ Scruff whispers, and I shush him quiet, stifling a laugh. Pretend we haven’t noticed. Quickly scan the room; Bone has magically disappeared, of course, the canny will-o-the-wisp ahead of the lot of us and not wanting to be infected by any of this. How does he vanish so triumphantly? He’s a master of spying and subterfuge; must have been taught by the best and I guess there would have been some amazing men stationed here during the war, spies, part of that Escape and Evasion Unit he talks about.

  So. A new girl. In pink satin, like a party dress but there’s no party, and it’s too small. As if it belonged to a world long ago that she’s no longer a part of but she’s clinging onto it, playing dress-ups. She’s fat. Not comfortable with it. It’s in the way she’s standing there awkward, one ankle cocked behind her leg. Like she wants to disappear into the wall, actually, but also wants to watch and the result is an avalanche of awkwardness. Hands behind her back. Hands scrunching down her dress. Hands scratching her arms, pulling back her hair. Hands nowhere because she doesn’t know where to put them.

  She’s about ten years old. Curled hair. Glasses. She reminds me of a child in a book, some new girl at school who’s left her old one because no one was friends with her there – but she already knows that no one will be friends at this one either. It’s in the way she’s standing there. Not expecting us to notice, to talk. Can barely look us in the eye when we catch sight of her. As if she suddenly can’t remember why she’s here at all. But hugely does. But can’t admit it.

  One by one we stop playing, come up panting, and stare.

  Silence.

  ‘I’m just watching.’

  Suddenly. Resentfully. Her voice a scrunch of a scowl.

  ‘I’ve heard about you lot. I was curious.’

  Then she’s staring at the ground, her toe at a piece of imaginary fluff, her long hair falling across her face. ‘I wanted to see, bu
t …’ to the floor, and everything about her says she’s not expecting us to say anything like a welcome. Like she’s been told once too much that she’s a contagious disease and believes it. I remember something Mum said to me long ago: that mean people are unhappy people, and never forget it. That when someone says or does something horrible it’s because they’re crying on the inside and you’re not, and they want to drag you right down to be as unhappy as them. And as I look at Hebe standing before us all clotted and wrong I can see where Bone’s stories would have come from. But what if you’re nice to them? What then?

  ‘I’m Kick.’

  ‘Bert.’

  ‘Pin!’

  ‘Scruff. So get yourself over here!’

  ‘Pardon? What?’ She frowns, steps back.

  ‘Come and play,’ Scruff insists.

  ‘Really?’ Shock.

  ‘Can you play footy?’ Bert’s eyeing Hebe’s scuffed ballet slippers. Too big, too pink, too satiny – and too fabulous.

  ‘Um …’

  ‘I’ll teach you. No worries.’ Scruff bowls right over and takes her by the hand.

  ‘Don’t touch!’ she snaps. As if Scruff is made of slime. Or she’s never been touched in her life. Wrong move: it only makes my brother more determined. ‘You’re just my type for a partner in crime. You English girls – jolly spiffing. And, um, terrifying. Is that it? Oh, what the heck, just come on. We’ll call you H from now on, and you’re in Company S. S for Scruff. Got it?’ He pulls her into the middle of the pitch and Bert and I giggle; we know where he’s taken his lessons from in the charisma department – Bone – and he’s got a long way to go yet. ‘With you on board, H, we’re going to win this tournament.’ He grins a Bone-like, megawatt grin. Well, at least he’s got that bit down pat.

  ‘All right,’ Hebe says shyly, dragging her hair behind her ears and blushing furiously. A flicker of a smile, as if her face isn’t used to it.

  Well, let’s just say she’s hopeless. Lumpy and awkward and a bit stinky to boot. Her limbs don’t work together smoothly, it’s all a bit wonky. Can’t kick, volley, tackle, can’t anything and we’re not much better, but still. We all try to teach her. Let her score a goal, she misses, then another, she just gets it, and she’s barely even realising all the help we’re giving her. ‘Oh my golly goodness I can do this!’ she says in wonder at one point. The smile on her face cracks wider, then wider, until it’s completely glowing her up and we all stop: she’s become someone else.