He imagined that Sylvester’s real task was to observe him and perhaps follow him if he suspected he had discovered Becky’s whereabouts. In fact, the little faun had half-admitted that already.
Johnny rubbed his eyes, thinking.
Sylvester might be a slippery little spy, and really he should have expected nothing else, but he was the only hope he had. To ask his help would certainly mean having anything he told him getting back to Faunus, but not to ask Sylvester’s help would leave him in the black hole with nowhere to go. It was really a matter of the lesser of two evils, and he had to decide quickly which was the lesser.
If he let Faunus know, as he had been charged to do, Faunus would undoubtedly seize Becky as quickly as he was able, then Becky and the flute between them would be used to fulfil those plans that so upset the women. On the other hand, if he didn’t let Faunus know, he had no chance of finding Becky and in the meantime a number of the women were pressing hard for Becky to be killed.
Johnny shook his head. It was a no-brainer really.
‘Sylvester, tell me,’ he whispered urgently, ‘who is Basilius?’
Sylvester, whose head had been bowed, whether in shame or whether he feared Johnny would cuff him about the ears, Johnny didn’t know, looked up in surprise.
‘Basilius?’ His tone suggested that Johnny’s not knowing was a sign of astonishing ignorance. ‘Why, Basilius is king of these lands, or was. He is old now and lives almost as a hermit.’
‘Where does he live?’
Sylvester looked at Johnny quizzically. ‘What means this question, boy-child?’
Johnny thought quickly. He had no choice really. What did his father say? It was Sydney or the bush.
‘I have learnt that Becky is with him. I overheard some of the women speaking. I’m sure they said Basilius …’
Sylvester considered this. ‘It is possible,’ he said. ‘The old king does not dwell far from the villa.’
‘I’ve been told to tell Dr Faunus as soon as I discovered anything,’ whispered Johnny, ‘but things have changed. Could you take me to this place, or at least show me how to get there? Then you must get back to the doctor as quickly as possible for I’m pretty certain that Becky is in big trouble.’
‘Big trouble?’
‘Really big trouble,’ said Johnny. ‘Faunus will have to hurry.’
‘What is this trouble?’
‘Some of the women think that the best way to stop Becky from playing the flute is to kill her,’ whispered Johnny. ‘They’re trying to persuade the others.’
The little faun’s eyes widened.
‘That’s what I mean by things being changed,’ continued Johnny. ‘I’ll need to get to Becky as fast as I possibly can to warn her. Faunus must understand this!’
‘He must be told of these things,’ said Sylvester. ‘It is best I tell him at once.’
‘But what about Becky? She has to be told, too!’
Sylvester nodded. ‘I see that. I will tell you how to get to the palace of Basilius. It will not be difficult to find.’
Johnny felt a wave of relief. He seized the faun’s hand. ‘Sylvester,’ he said gratefully, ‘you’ve saved my life!’
‘The girl-child’s too, I trust,’ said Sylvester pointedly, but then he gave Johnny a solemn little smile.
Basilius’s housekeeper, Marina, studied the visitor suspiciously. He was an oddly dressed boy who looked travel-stained and somewhat desperate. His knocking at the door had certainly been so.
‘Do you have a girl named Rebecca here?’ he asked urgently.
Marina was not sure how to deal with this. The nymph Althea had brought the girl for shelter and she understood it was shelter from the attentions of Faunus, recently returned to Arcadia.
‘Do you know whose palace this is? Do you know whose door it is at which you knock so importunately?’
‘Is it Basilius’s?’ demanded Johnny.
‘It is the king’s!’ said Marina indignantly.
‘I was told Rebecca was here,’ Johnny insisted. ‘I must see her, speak to her.’
‘You must do no such thing!’ said Marina.
The rudeness of the boy! Without further discussion she closed the door firmly in his face. It was probably a ploy, she decided as she made her way through the labyrinthine house to the king’s quarters. Faunus was a devious creature. He was probably capable of shape-shifting and she would not have been at all surprised if he’d contrived this bizarre appearance to sneak his way into the palace without offering the king dignity. She doubted whether Faunus would attempt the direct approach.
She would report the matter, immediately.
She did hope the girl was not in any real danger from Faunus. Her visit had pleased the king so much. He received so little company and this visit from one so young had quite enlivened him. The girl, in her turn, had been gentle and considerate. Already she must have played endless games of tabula with him, but had never expressed irritation or boredom.
When Marina reached the king’s reception chamber, she knocked gently and opened the door. Basilius and the girl were both there and looked up as she entered.
‘What is it, Marina?’ the king asked.
‘My lord,’ she said. ‘There is a stranger at the door.’
‘A stranger?’ He and Becky exchanged glances.
‘A strangely dressed boy. He is a little agitated and demands to know whether the girl Rebecca is within the palace as he would speak with her. My lord, I suspect it is Faunus in a cunning disguise attempting to gain entry. The nymph warned us of him.’
Becky grabbed at the king’s arm. ‘I think it must be Johnny,’ she whispered. ‘It sounds more like him. You know, the boy who was with me.’
Basilius nodded.
‘I wonder how on earth he found me here?’ Becky remarked.
‘My lord, what should I do?’
Basilius turned to Becky. ‘Well, daughter, what should we do?’
‘Ask him his name,’ Becky said. ‘If he says Johnny Cadman, then you must let him in.’
Marina repeated the strange name to herself a couple of times, and then nodded before leaving the room.
The idea that Johnny had somehow found her filled Becky with momentary joy. They had started this crazy thing together and she realised once they had become separated how important it had been to be in the company of somebody from your own world, and how lonely and more scary it was once they’d split up. She hoped it suggested some promise of escape. Surely they could find a way of leaving together as well.
When Johnny was ushered into the room she could see immediately why Marina had been so suspicious. Johnny did look dirty and dishevelled. His clothes were stained and torn and the fair hair that had flopped over his eyes was now sticking out like straw every which way. Worse than that, though, he looked oddly bulky and misshapen, as if somebody had taken a bicycle pump to inflate his middle.
Johnny, for his part, looked at Becky with equal surprise. He knew she must have had a change of clothes, but as she stood up to hurry towards him he was struck by how the long white shift altered her. She looked older somehow, more dignified, more part of this place. She looked prettier, too, but that was probably the grin. He hadn’t seen her smile much before, especially since they’d tumbled into Arcadia.
‘Wow!’ he said.
‘How on earth did you find me?’ smiled Becky. ‘This is amazing!’
Her question reminded Johnny of how he had found her, and he immediately looked troubled. ‘It’s a long story,’ he said. ‘We could have big problems.’
Becky turned to Basilius, suddenly aware that her sense of protocol had broken down completely.
‘I’m terribly sorry, King Basilius,’ she said. ‘This is my friend. I was just a little carried away by seeing him again.’
Basilius lifted a hand as if to brush away her apology. ‘We understand. It is of no matter.’
Then he extended his hand to Johnny, and Johnny, after a glance at Becky, ap
proached the old man and knelt before taking his hand.
‘I’m Johnny Cadman,’ he said. ‘Becky must have said …’
Basilius nodded. ‘We have heard much of how you and Rebecca came into this land. It is good that you have found each other again.’
‘I hope so,’ said Johnny. His face, though, was worried rather than hopeful.
Seeing this, Basilius said, ‘You mentioned problems? You said a long story? Sit down and tell us for we love a long story.’
Johnny looked again at Becky with some desperation, and then he turned back to the king.
‘I don’t really think there’s time,’ he said.
‘There will be time,’ said Basilius firmly. Johnny heard the edge in the old king’s voice and realised he’d made a blunder: you don’t deny a king.
Becky said, ‘Tell us, Johnny, and tell us how you found me.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Johnny said. ‘I meant that when I said we were in trouble, I really meant that Becky was in deep trouble and I …’
‘Tell us, Johnny,’ said Becky sharply and Johnny recognised that he’d been blathering like an idiot.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered again, and seeing the king patting a space on the bench, he hurried to it and sat down, waiting only for Becky to sit beside him before he began his story.
‘So you see,’ he finally explained, ‘I reckoned I didn’t have any choice. I had to let Faunus know where you were to stop those women getting to you first.’
Becky had listened to Johnny’s story unfold with increasing disquiet.
‘I told Hester Nye that if they wanted me out of the way then the easiest thing to do would be to show us how to get back to Greendale,’ she said bitterly.
‘Makes sense,’ said Johnny.
‘Yeah,’ said Becky, ‘but she wouldn’t hear a bar of it. Actually I think I said home and she said something like this is your home.’
‘I’ve got to say that when you’re dressed like that this place does look a bit like your home,’ said Johnny. ‘Don’t worry about it though.’
He stood up and lifted his sweatshirt.
‘Look what I’ve brought you,’ he said.
Despite the tension, Becky grinned. ‘I thought you’d put on a bit of weight.’ She stood up as well and unwound her clothes from Johnny’s midriff, ‘Oh hey, they’ve been washed too. Did you do that?’
‘Not likely,’ said Johnny. ‘No, they were in the room they put me in at the villa. They were folded on a bench. I worried a bit when I saw them there.’
They resumed their seats, Becky with her clothes now piled on her lap.
‘What will we do?’ she said. ‘It looks bloody awful everyway you look at it.’
‘What can we do?’ asked Johnny.
Becky’s appeal was addressed as much to the old king as to Johnny, and Basilius shook his head sadly. ‘We do not know,’ he said. ‘These are wild and whirling times when nymphs and fauns … however, you are safe in this sanctuary for the present. None would dare do violence to its peace.’
Becky nodded, wanting to believe him, but not quite being able to.
‘Faunus won’t waste any time getting here,’ remarked Johnny. ‘That little Sylvester will have been back to report some time ago. You wouldn’t believe the way he can move through the trees.’
Becky shivered. ‘I wonder what Faunus will do then?’
‘I dunno,’ said Johnny. ‘It couldn’t be as bad as what those two women were planning. It was as I said, the lesser of two evils.’
‘Yeah,’ said Becky. ‘But it’s still evil, though.’
‘Funny thing about those women, though,’ Johnny added. ‘They seemed not to know that the one on the motorbike …’
‘That was Hester Nye,’ said Becky. ‘You know, Dr Faunus’s housekeeper.’
‘They called her Hesteria,’ said Johnny.
‘Whatever,’ said Becky. ‘You were saying?’
‘I was saying that they didn’t seem to know that Hesteria has the flute.’
‘Well, she doesn’t,’ said Becky.
‘She doesn’t? How do you know?’
‘I know because Hester Nye was waiting for me when I finally made it back to Silenus’s place. She grabbed me, nearly throttled me at first. Anyway, Silenus was obviously out some place and before she took me away Hester Nye made me go into the cottage to get the flute and it wasn’t there.’
‘The flute or the box?’
‘Neither.’
‘That’s weird,’ said Johnny. ‘Faunus is sure that Hester Nye has the flute because when he helped me get away from the fowl house he insisted I bring the flute with me. It wasn’t till we were halfway up the hill that he checked the box and found there was no flute in it. He gave me heaps over that.’
Becky thought about this. ‘Well, that explains why I couldn’t find it. You must have gone before I got there. So had Silenus. Hester Nye was waiting for me and made me go in to get the flute. We couldn’t find it because you must have taken it.’
‘But I only took the box. There was no flute in it.’
‘Bizarre. Hester Nye is convinced that Faunus has the flute. That’s one of the reasons they’re hiding me away here.’ She thought it through. ‘That can only mean Silenus …’
Johnny shook his head. ‘No, he reckons he never even saw the flute. He’s kind of crazy but there’s no reason for him to lie, especially to Faunus. He kind of worships him.’
‘So do the fauns, but they wouldn’t have gone anywhere near Silenus’s place. They’re terrified of him.’
‘Anyway, Faunus doesn’t have the flute. He’s desperately trying to get it back.’
‘Neither does Hester Nye. She and her so-called sisters are trying to work out how to get it off Faunus.’
They stared at each other.
During these exchanges, Basilius had said nothing, but was following intently what was being said, as if he were a spectator at a particularly dramatic tennis match.
‘I know what’s going to happen,’ said Johnny miserably.
‘What?’
‘When they work out that neither of them has the bloody thing, they’re going to think you have it.’
‘Oh god,’ whispered Becky. ‘That’s probably what they’ll do. As if we weren’t in it deep enough already.’
‘The only thing,’ said Johnny with a grim little smile, ‘is that there’s not a snowball in hell’s chance of their getting together to work that out. They’ll be utterly convinced that the other one has the flute and the more any one of them denies it the more convinced they’ll be.’
‘We fear,’ said Basilius sadly, ‘that they are engaged in a bitter tug of war, not the first I might add, and it won’t end until one or the other is destroyed.’
‘Tug of war is right,’ said Becky, ‘and I’m the rope.’
‘You or the flute,’ said Johnny.
‘I’m beginning to think there’s not much difference.’
‘Hesteria had destroyed Faunus, but not quite,’ said Basilius. ‘Now he has recovered much of his strength he will be utterly determined to complete the process so that he can in turn destroy her. They will not be talking to each other.’
Becky was not sure whether their not talking was a good thing or not. It certainly wasn’t a good thing for Arcadia, but was it even a good thing for her? She hated the tug of war idea especially as she saw herself and the flute as intertwined rope. All the same, she recalled something Basilius had said before Johnny’s arrival.
‘You know,’ she said, ‘there’s something a little odd about this missing flute thing.’
The others looked at her.
‘Right from the start,’ Becky said, ‘although I didn’t know it at the time. Right from the time Mum bought it for me, the flute has had a hold, no, a grip, on me. I’ve not had any choice. It made me play that one piece, that Syrinx piece, it drove me to Dr Faunus and made me play for him. You know?’
Johnny nodded. He knew.
‘It’s like I�
��ve been orchestrated, like it’s been part of me and I’ve been part of it. And it’s all been tied up with Syrinx. It’s all been happening, I know now, because somehow Syrinx has been part of me too.’
‘That’s why Faunus …’ said Johnny.
‘I haven’t told you this, Johnny,’ said Becky, but I had the weirdest, scariest experience with that faun Sylvester. He found me in the woods and took me to the cave, the one you went to behind the waterfall. On the way we stopped at a place he called the wellspring and when I bent over the water to have a drink, the reflection I saw, wasn’t me, it was this girl with long fair hair and green eyes. Sylvester came up and told me it was Syrinx. I was sort of freaked but Sylvester wasn’t fazed at all. He said I simply saw who I was.’
‘Syrinx?’ whispered Johnny.
Becky nodded. ‘But this isn’t the point, what is odd right now is that, as I say, I’ve had this connection to the flute. Basilius reckons Faunus set it up that way.’
The old king nodded. ‘It would have been his escape route.’
‘So?’ asked Johnny.
‘So why,’ said Becky, ‘right now do I have no idea where the flute is? Why here in this room do I feel no connection to it at all?’
‘Something in this room?’ suggested Johnny.
Becky shook her head. ‘No, not this room. I haven’t had any sense of the flute calling to me for ages. I’ve got no idea where it is.’
Johnny stared at her.
‘If Basilius is right, it should be calling to me, shouldn’t it?’
‘What does that mean, do you think?’ asked Johnny.
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Becky. ‘All I do know is that if the flute is sending me messages, then they’re not getting through any more.’
The long afternoon passed in an atmosphere of uneasy tension. Basilius by this stage had no desire any more for games of tabula. Becky sensed that in the circumstances, the old king realised that board games were a trivial response to the awful reality.
The Enchanted Flute Page 25