Eddy Stone and the Mean Genie's Curse

by Simon Cherry

  “A scullery has nothing to do with skulls,” Hen said with a sigh. “It’s the room where they did the washing up.”

  “Ah,” said Chris P. “I mean, yeah, I knew that really. I was just having a joke.”

  “This part of the house is the old kitchens,” said Hen, reading the plan. “The bit in front of us was the butler’s pantry.”

  “Well, I know what that was for,” said Chris P. “Obviously. It’s where the butler kept his—”

  “Please don’t say ‘pants’,” said Hen.

  “Oh,” said Chris P. “Alright, I won’t. Anyway, all this is the part that Dad wants to knock down.”

  “What does he want to do that for?” said Eddy.

  “So we can put in the new rooms,” said Chris P. “The cinema. Swimming pool. Artificial beach. Tropical greenhouse. Indoor go-kart track. Pretty standard stuff, really.”

  “I wish Tidemark Bay had half of those things,” said Eddy. “The town would be much more fun. Hang on a minute – look, up there. First floor. According to the plan of the inside there is a small bedroom with two windows. But that wall goes on a lot further on the outside.”

  “I see it,” said Hen. “And you’re right. Whatever is behind that bit of wall is not on the drawing. You might have found what we are looking for. Let’s go and check it out.”

  They soon found the bedroom. And there it was – the wall on the inside that wasn’t in the same place as the wall on the outside. It was flat and bare, except for a large, empty wooden bookcase.

  “If the secret room really is behind there,” said Hen, “there must be a way to get in.”

  “If this was a film,” said Eddy, “that bookcase would revolve when you pulled on a handle that was disguised as a candlestick or something like that.”

  But there was no candlestick. Or anything else that could have been a handle in disguise. The room had been stripped down to plaster and boards.

  “Maybe there’s a bit of skirting board that you have to kick to open a hidden door,” said Hen. “Or a loose floorboard that works as a lever when you stamp on it. It wouldn’t be hard to build either of those.”

  KICKS and STAMPS echoed as they worked their way round the room. And found – nothing.

  “We could just bash a hole in the wall,” said Chris P. “We’ll need something to hit it with.”

  “How about your head?” said Hen. “That should be big and thick enough.”

  “We can’t just bash our way in,” said Eddy. “We might damage whatever is on the other side.”

  “Or even bring the whole place crashing down,” said Hen. “With a house as old as this there’s no telling what would happen if we start hammering away.”

  “Perhaps we’re looking in the wrong place,” said Eddy. “What if you get in from somewhere else? The entrance can’t be on the outside walls of the house. But maybe there’s a way through from the corridor.”

  They went to check. There was a door in the wall where they thought the secret room was hidden. Hen opened it, and found a shallow cupboard, with shelves from floor to ceiling.

  “I’ve already looked in there, Babes.” Mitzee was walking along the corridor towards them. “It’s empty. Like all the other cupboards. I can’t find any decent clothes anywhere.”

  “We’re not looking for clothes,” said Hen. “She tugged the shelves and tapped around the inside of the cupboard. “This is all solid. No entrance here.”

  “Right,” said Eddy. “We can’t find a way into the secret room from this floor. So you must get in from up or down. What’s above here?”

  Hen checked on the plan.

  “Just the roof,” she said. “And it’s almost flat here – no space for a way to crawl in.”

  “That only leaves below,” said Eddy. “Let’s check downstairs. There’s got to be an entrance somewhere.”

  “This really is an enormous house, isn’t it?” Eddy’s voice echoed round the large room they had found down below. Eight tall windows ran across one long side, looking out over the gardens. There was a huge fireplace at each end, and hooks in the ceiling that must once have supported chandeliers.

  “Ninety-four rooms,” said Hen. “I counted them on the plan. Eighty-three fireplaces, four hundred and sixty-two windows, eighty-two chimneys, twelve baths…”

  “Hang on,” said Eddy. “How many fireplaces did you say?”

  “Eighty-three.”

  “And how many chimneys?”

  “Eighty-two.”

  “Which means…” said Eddy.

  “…she can’t count,” said Chris P.

  “…one of the fireplaces doesn’t connect to a chimney,” said Eddy. “So it can’t work. Why would you have a fireplace that doesn’t work?”

  “Because you hired rubbish builders?” said Chris P.

  “Or because it’s not really a fireplace at all,” said Eddy. “There are two in this room. The one at this end is right below where we were upstairs. And look, there’s no sign of soot in it. It doesn’t look like anyone has ever lit a fire here.”

  “So if this isn’t a real fireplace,” said Hen, “what is it?”

  “An attractive decorative feature?” said Mitzee. “I can be an interior designer, you know. It’s outfit number eleven. Yellow trouser suit and a sketchpad.”

  “Maybe that’s all it is,” said Eddy. “But maybe not.” He climbed into the fireplace and peered upwards. “I could do with a torch.”

  “I always keep one in my toolbag,” said Hen. She pulled one out of a canvas bag that was slung from her belt, and shone the light above Eddy’s head. The beam picked out a dull glint of metal.

  “That looks like the rung of a ladder,” said Eddy. “And look, there’s another one above it. I think we’ve found our way in. If I can just…”

  He jumped up to grab the bottom rung, arms outstretched. But his fingers didn’t quite reach.

  “I need something to stand on,” he said.

  “There’s nothing around,” said Chris P. “The furniture hasn’t arrived yet.”

  “Come here and get on all fours,” said Hen.

  “Can’t we just go and find a packing crate?” said Chris P.

  “That would take time,” said Hen. “And,” she whispered to Eddy, “it wouldn’t be half as much fun.”

  Chris P grumbled, but did what Hen had asked.

  Eddy stepped up on his back.

  “I can easily reach the bottom rung now,” he said. “Here I go. I’d better take that torch.”

  “Be careful,” said Hen. “There could be anything up there.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Eddy. “I will be.” But she was right. He had been so excited at finding the ladder that he hadn’t really thought about what it might lead to. He hoped there weren’t going to be any nasty surprises up there.

  He hauled himself up rung by rung. There were eight of them, and then the fake chimney stopped climbing and turned into a flat passageway. He crawled in cautiously and burrowed into the house, between the upstairs floor and the downstairs ceiling. The way was cramped and dusty and thick with spider webs.

  After a short distance, his torchlight picked out a heavy iron bolt fixed to the wooden boards above his head. He looked more closely, and saw the outline of a trapdoor.

  Eddy tugged at the bolt, waggling it from side to side to loosen the stiffness of years. It suddenly gave way. There was a creak of complaint from the hinges as he pushed the trapdoor until it opened wide enough for him to stick his head up and peep through. He shone the torch ahead of him and—YIKES!

  The beam picked out a hideous face, bright red, wild-eyed and snarling.

  The trapdoor clattered as Eddy let go and sat back, almost dropping the torch in surprise.

  “Are you okay?” Hen’s voice came faintly up from the fireplace.

  “I’m not sure,” Eddy yelled back. “Hang on.”

  He carefully opened the trapdoor a crack, and shone the torch through again.

  The hideous face g
lared back at him.

  Along with several others. Masks. Phew! They were only masks, hanging on the wall. He scanned around with the torch.

  There were pictures and pots and carvings and glinting metal objects hung and shelved and stacked wherever he looked.

  “There’s a room up here,” he shouted. “It looks like no one has been in it for years. And it’s full of stuff.”

  “What sort of stuff?” Hen asked.

  “All sorts,” said Eddy.

  “Right,” said Hen, “bend down again, Crispy. I’m going up.”

  “Ow,” Chris P answered, as she planted her boots in the small of his back, and began to climb.

  And “Ow” again, as Mitzee followed Hen.

  “If there’s loads of stuff there might even be some decent clothes,” Mitzee said.

  “Oof!” said Chris P, stretching his back out as he stood up. He grabbed for the bottom rung of the ladder.

  “Hey, guys! I can’t reach. Can somebody pull me up?”

  But nobody was listening.

  “Oh, well,” Chris P said to himself. “Who wants to climb a stupid chimney anyway? And it’s probably just a load of old rubbish up there.”

  “It’s just a load of old rubbish up here,” said Mitzee.

  “It doesn’t look like rubbish to me,” said Eddy shining the torch around the room. “These must all be things that Madeleine Montagu brought back from her travels.”

  “Pity she wasn’t more interested in clothes,” said Mitzee. “I can’t see anything to wear. What are you looking for anyway?”

  “I don’t know,” said Eddy. “The message just said we had to find a secret room. It didn’t say why. Let’s hope there’s something in here that will tell us.”

  “There’s a desk over there,” said Hen. “Let’s try that.”

  They found an open notebook on the desk. Eddy pulled down the sleeve of his jumper and wiped at the thick layer of dust that lay on it. There was writing underneath. Neat, elegant writing. Eddy bent forward to read it in the torchlight.

  “It says ‘Go wham in day concert’…”

  “That’s no help,” said Hen. “It’s just nonsense.”

  “No. It’s me,” said Eddy. “I’d forgotten. Since my wish the words get all muddled when I try to read normal letters. You have a look.”

  He handed the torch to Hen.

  “To whom it may concern,” she read.

  “She must mean there is something at the bottom of the bed that will help us,” said Eddy. “So the first thing we need to do is find the bed.”

  Hen shone the torch round the room. The only thing large enough to be a bed lay under a faded dust sheet against one of the walls. Eddy and Hen took one corner of the dust sheet each, and pulled.

  “Ooh!” Mitzee said. “Pretty!”

  She was right. The bed that was under the dust sheet was very pretty. Its wooden frame was carved with animals and flowers, with details picked out in coloured glass beads. It was dressed with embroidered silk sheets that glowed purple and blue in the torchlight.

  “Let’s see what MM has left to help us,” said Eddy.

  Hen shone the torch at the foot of the bed, while Eddy ducked to look underneath and…

  “There’s nothing here,” he said. “Nothing at all.” He reached up and checked the underside of the bed frame. “And nothing hidden there either.”

  “Maybe it’s on the bed itself,” said Hen. “Perhaps there’s a message in the carvings on the bottom panel.”

  They found that the carvings on the foot of the bed showed a family of monkeys chasing each other round a banana tree.

  “I don’t think that MM’s message was to exercise and eat more fruit,” said Eddy. “There must be something else.”

  “But if what we are looking for isn’t under the bed, or part of the bed, where else is left?” said Hen.

  “I can only think of one thing,” said Eddy. “We haven’t tried in the bed. Perhaps there’s something tucked away down at the bottom.” He dived under the silk covers and wriggled his way to the foot. He felt he had gone a long way before he reached the end of the mattress. He stuck his hands down to hunt for anything hidden there. But there was nothing.

  “That’s no good, either,” he said. “I’m coming out.”

  But when he tried to turn round, he felt himself slipping forward, slithering over the smooth silk and out of the bottom end of the bed. As he fell he put his hands out, waiting to thump onto the floor.

  But no thump came.

  He carried on falling.

  “Eddy?” Hen stared at the bed. A moment ago, there had been a big Eddy Stone-shaped bump in it. A bump that had suddenly disappeared.

  “Eddy?” People didn’t just vanish into thin air. That wasn’t scientific at all. So where had he gone?

  There was only one way to find out.

  She clipped the torch to her belt, and slid head first into the bed after him.

  Mitzee watched the glow of the torch moving under the silk sheets, towards the bottom of the bed. And then saw it disappear.

  “I’m not staying here in the dark on my own,” she said. “Wait for me. I’m coming after you!”

  As he fell from the bed, Eddy braced himself to meet the floor. He was still bracing himself when he realized that the floor wasn’t coming. He opened his eyes just in time to see that he was heading for a big square of coloured cloth.

  WHOOOOOMMMFFFF! He hit the cloth, slid down it, dropped another short distance, and landed with a CRUNCH on the gravel-covered ground. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, then stood up very gingerly and discovered, to his delight, he hadn’t broken any bones.

  He looked around. The coloured square turned out to be the awning on a market stall, one of many that surrounded him.

  He was just getting round to wondering where he was when he heard a WHOOOMMFFF! on a stall just to his left, and Hen flopped onto the ground.

  “Where?” said Hen, looking wildly around her.

  “No idea,” said Eddy, helping her up.

  “How?” said Hen, who was too surprised and confused even to try to put a sentence together.

  “No,” said Eddy. “Can’t answer that one either.”

  “But…” said Hen, trying to manage more than one word at time. She didn’t make it before there was another WHOOOMMFFF! as Mitzee touched down.

  “Except,” said Eddy, “MM’s message said that the way forward was at the bottom of the bed. This must be what she meant – there was a gateway to…well, wherever this is. I think we must be in the country that MM visited. Where Wizard Witterwort came from.”

  “That’s crazy,” said Hen, pulling herself together. “You can’t just fall out of bed and land somewhere completely different. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I agree,” said Eddy. “None at all. But we did it. Because, look – somewhere completely different is where we are.” He helped Mitzee up.

  “Ow!” Mitzee hopped from one foot to the other.

  “Are you alright?” said Eddy.

  “No,” said Mitzee. “I need some proper shoes. These stones are going right through the stupid blue plastic bags on my feet.”

  “You could borrow my socks,” said Eddy. “I can just wear my trainers.”

  “Your socks?” said Mitzee. “Off your feet? No thank you.”

  “I was just trying to help,” said Eddy.

  “Well try better! My toes are HURTING!!” Mitzee began to shout. “I NEED SHOES!!! PROPER SHOES!!! SOMEBODY FIND ME SOME SH— ooh, look, they’re nice.”

  She pointed to a nearby stall that was stacked with pairs of silk slippers in every colour that you could think of.

  “They are,” said Eddy. “But this is a market. And we haven’t got any money. So we can’t buy anything.”

  “I am having a pair of those slippers,” said Mitzee. “And if we haven’t got money, I shall just use my good looks and charm.”

  “Charm?” said Hen. “Best of luck with that.
”

  “Watch and learn, Babes,” said Mitzee.

  She picked her way over the gravel to the slipper stall.

  A man was sitting next to it, crayoning a picture in a colouring book.

  “You look like a kind man,” said Mitzee. “Poor little me has lost her shoesies and now her toesies are getting all sore. Pleeeeeeeeeeaaase may I borrow one of your lovely pairs of slippers?”

  “Stop messing about,” the man said, barely looking up from his book. “Just take what you want.”

  Mitzee grabbed a pink pair and put them on.

  “See,” she said to Eddy and Hen. “It’s easy when you know how. And are as pretty as I am.”

  “And behave like a little baby,” said Hen. “Shoesies? Toesies? Ugh.”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Eddy. “The man on the stall doesn’t seem to care what anyone does. Look.”

  They watched a woman walk up, take off the shoes she was wearing, and slip on a new green pair from the stall. Then she walked away, leaving her old shoes lying on the ground.

  “There’s something very odd about this market,” said Eddy. “Excuse me,” he called to the man on the stall. “That lady didn’t pay. Aren’t you bothered?”

  “Why should I be bothered?” said the man. “This stall’s nothing to do with me. I just like to sit here to do my colouring and watch the world go by. Anyway, what would she pay with?”

  “Money?” said Eddy. “That’s what people usually use.”

  “Money?” The man laughed. “You’re not from round here, are you? I haven’t seen any of that stuff since the Emperor took the throne, and decreed that everything was free.”

  “Free?” said Mitzee. “You mean everything everything? All of this?”

  “That’s right,” said the man.

  “I’m going to change out of this horrible white coat,” she said. She headed off in the direction of a stall full of brightly coloured clothes.

  “The Emperor,” Eddy said to the man. “Would that be Gumpert the Glorious?”