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Alfie Bloom and the Talisman Thief

Page 13

by Gabrielle Kent


  “You’re sure?” asked Amy, watching the elf in the mirror as Alfie took off his shoes and quietly opened the inner door leading to the library. “Because there’s no going back once we do this.”

  “I’m sure,” said Alfie, against all the evidence his brain was sending him. He stepped into the little passageway between the library and the study. Madeleine followed, an arrow nocked to her bow. The three of them stood just behind the panelled door to the library in their socks.

  Artan floated inside the study, watching them gloomily. He had begged to be allowed to help, but Alfie was worried he might get overexcited. If the elf woke and had chance to warn the others they might as well just hand the talisman straight over.

  Alfie put one hand on the panelled door ready to swing it open, the other tightly clutching a ball of thick, coarse twine he had found on Orin’s shelves. He hoped it would be strong enough. Madeleine stood silently next to him, bow raised and half drawn. Amy put down the mirror and took up the cotton scarf she had used to cool Ashford’s brow, holding one end in each hand.

  “What if he calls our bluff over being ready to shoot him?” she whispered.

  Alfie looked at the fierce set to Madeleine’s jaw and the fire burning in her eyes.

  “He’ll believe we mean it,” he whispered back. “Ready?” Madeleine and Amy nodded. Alfie opened the door. It swung outwards silently and they stepped through. Madeleine trained her arrow immediately on the elf, string held taut as the three of them advanced silently on the sleeping figure.

  The Impostor

  Alfie’s heart was thumping so hard he was sure it would give them away, but the elf slumbered on as they crept closer. Madeleine stopped a few feet in front of the sleeping figure, arrow aimed at his forehead. Alfie took up a kneeling position by the chair. He held the string in one hand and gently grasped the bow lying across the elf’s lap with the other. Amy crept around to reach over the back of the chair, her scarf held taut between two hands. She lowered it carefully until it was level with the elf’s mouth, and then looked at Alfie. He nodded.

  The elf sprang to life as Amy dragged the scarf between his lips, pulling his head tight against the back of the chair. His hands immediately grasped for his bow, but Alfie had pulled it from his lap and thrown it back across the room. He grabbed one of the elf’s arms but the other hand was already closing around the hilt of a dagger at his hip.

  Madeleine whistled.

  The elf looked up to meet her eyes and froze at what he saw there. She shook her head and the elf slowly let go of the dagger and offered his hand to Alfie, who bound his wrists tightly together with the twine. With the elf subdued, Amy tied the ends of her scarf behind his head to complete the gag. He didn’t take his eyes off Madeleine as they worked.

  “Get up!” Alfie addressed their prisoner. The elf shot him a cold glance and remained seated.

  “Maybe he doesn’t understand English,” said Amy.

  “Stand!” Alfie mimed an upward motion with his hands. The elf scowled, but Madeleine made a slight movement as though about to release the arrow, and he sprang to his feet.

  “This way,” Alfie pulled on the twine and the elf grudgingly began to move, then froze as an ear-splitting yowl echoed around the room. A hissing, spitting ball of fur and claws launched itself through the air, knocking Madeleine’s arm as it passed. Her fingers slipped on the bowstring and she let loose the arrow, sending it thudding into a bookcase.

  “Leo!” yelled Alfie, as Amy grabbed the cat in mid leap, its claws raking the air in front of the elf’s face. Before Madeleine could string another arrow, the elf made a dash for the library door. Alfie yelled as the twine whipped through his hands, burning a red line into his skin.

  “Artan, fetch!” he called. The words were barely out of his mouth when the bear shot through out of the study and across the library, loose papers flying in his wake. The elf was reaching for the door handle as Artan barrelled into him, swiftly wrapping around him so that his head and shoulders were sticking out of one end, his feet from the other.

  “Quick, get him inside,” said Alfie. “They might have heard us.” Artan carried his carefully wrapped package through the air and into the study after Madeleine and Amy. Alfie grabbed the elf’s bow and chased Galileo back through the secret entrance, closing the door carefully behind them. Grabbing the mirror, he checked the hallways and heaved a sigh of relief to see that none of the elves seemed aware there had been any commotion in the library.

  “Well done, Artan,” he said, patting the grinning bear on the head as Amy and Madeleine high fived over the squirming elf. “Hold him there while I get his clothes.” Alfie pulled off the struggling elf’s boots and trousers then tied his ankles with the twine. Galileo sat nearby, cleaning behind his ears as Alfie worked. “And you!” he pointed one finger at the cat. “When we get out of this there’ll be no tuna for a whole year!” The cat stretched nonchalantly and slunk away to curl up by the fire.

  “I’m done here,” said Alfie when he was satisfied with his knots. “Put him in the chair by the writing desk.” Artan deposited the bound elf and Alfie passed the twine to Madeleine to tie him to the chair, which he noticed she went about none too gently. Alfie unbuckled their captive’s leather breastplate. He had to untie the elf’s hands to get the tunic he wore under his leather armour, but Amy and Madeleine held his wrists tightly and Artan floated in front of him, growling so menacingly that the elf didn’t move a muscle to resist. Soon he was tightly bound to the chair in his long undergarments. Alfie changed into his clothes in the garderobe. He felt uncomfortable removing the chain-mail shirt, and losing the protection it offered against the elves, but if his plan was to work he couldn’t be discovered wearing it.

  “Are you sure you can do this, Al?” said Amy as Alfie shuffled into the room, feeling slightly ridiculous in clothes and boots that were far too big for him.

  “Yes,” said Alfie firmly. If he was going to protect his home and his family, he had to use the change magic. “How long have we got?”

  “Nineteen minutes,” said Madeleine. “Providing she’s going to stick to one hour.”

  Alfie positioned a chair just far enough away from the elf that he could take in his whole form at once and sat down. The elf watched him as if he wished he could burn him alive with his glare. He took some calming breaths and stared at the elf, taking in every aspect of his appearance. Orin wouldn’t be happy about what he was doing, but he didn’t see any other way. It wasn’t as if the druid had offered any other solution.

  It was difficult to concentrate with the elf’s malevolent eyes burning holes into him, but he reached deep inside and prodded the change magic awake, letting it rush through him until the skin all over his body began to tingle, as though awaiting instructions.

  He remembered Emily’s training. Instead of trying to force himself to change, he imagined he was a mirror reflecting back the figure sitting in front of him. Wearing the elf’s clothes made the job easier. All he had to get right were the head, hands, height and body shape.

  He knew it was starting to work when his ears began to tingle. He felt them change shape, becoming slightly larger and pointed, amplifying Amy and Madeleine’s gasps and amazed whispers. Alfie blocked them out as he focused. The clothes he was wearing started to feel more fitted as he grew taller and broader; his feet seemed less lost in the soft leather boots. His scalp tickled as his hair grew longer, flowing down over his shoulders in pale blonde locks. He scrutinized the elf’s face, feeling his features becoming more angular. Finally, he concentrated hard on turning his irises pale gold. The elf’s face twisted into an even darker scowl, and Madeleine and Amy burst into applause. Alfie knew his disguise was complete.

  “How do I look?” he asked, his voice strangely distorted in his new larger body.

  “Perfect,” said Amy, slapping him on the back. “Apart from the expression. Try imagining that we’re all something nasty you just stepped in.” Alfie glared down his long nose at her.
“There! You’ve got it!”

  “Alfie, you forgot something,” said Madeleine from behind him.

  “What?” said Alfie, turning to see her fist flying towards his new face. It connected with his jaw with a smack that made his teeth clack together painfully. “OW! What did you do that for?”

  “Sorry,” said Madeleine, squaring up for another punch. “I thought it would be easier if I didn’t warn you. You can’t speak Elvish, so there should be a reason why you can’t speak. Hold still, I hardly got you there. You need a much more believable bruise than that.”

  Alfie caught Madeleine’s fist. “Maddie, you idiot!” he said, rubbing his jaw. “You just watched me transform into an elf. Didn’t you think I could manage a little bruise the same way?”

  Madeleine’s face dropped. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Alfie.”

  “It was actually a great idea,” smiled Amy. “But maybe share the plan with us first next time.”

  Alfie shook his head crossly, then looked into a mirror on the wall and let his cheek and jaw swell and turn a spectacular shade of purple.

  “Nice!” said Amy when he had finished. “No one could expect you to speak with a face like that. So then, which of us is coming as your prisoner?”

  “Me!” said Madeleine firmly.

  “What do you mean?” asked Alfie, stringing the elf’s bow and quiver over his shoulder.

  “Wait … you weren’t planning on going down there on your own and trying to grab Robin in a room full of elves, were you?” said Amy.

  Alfie shrugged. His plan hadn’t really progressed much further than that. “I thought Artan could swoop down to the window behind where the Queen is sitting. I’ll hang about there and look for a chance to grab Robin and we’ll jump out of the window on to Artan. He can take us up to the eastern tower. They haven’t found the way up there so we’d be safe until Ashford wakes up and does whatever he was planning to do to stop them.”

  Artan clapped his paws. “Excellent plan, lad. We’ll be up and away before they know what happened.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Madeleine, showing Alfie the Great Hall in the mirror. “Who do you see standing next to the Queen?”

  Alfie’s heart dropped. “Merioch.”

  “Exactly,” said Amy. “It looks like no one gets close to her except her right-hand man. You’re not going to be able to hang around near Robin looking shifty. But if you had a prisoner with a penknife hidden in their sock…” she grinned, “they’d be put with Robin and could cut their ropes and untie him too.”

  “Yeah, then you could make a distraction and I’ll get Robin to Artan,” said Madeleine.

  “What makes you think it should be you?” said Amy.

  “He’s my brother,” said Madeleine.

  “But I’m faster at running.”

  “No you’re not!”

  Alfie watched them bicker, amazed that they were fighting over taking part in a plan which was making his blood run cold. He had to admit that their idea was better than his, providing he could slip away unnoticed after the rescue.

  “We don’t have time for this,” he said at last. “Amy, you’re coming with me.”

  “No!” Madeleine shouted in anger as Amy grinned.

  “Not because she’s any better than you,” he said quickly, as Madeleine looked as if she was squaring up to hit him again. “Maddie, you need to keep an eye on our prisoner here, and if Ashford gets worse you can help him better than any of us. When he wakes up you need to tell him what’s going on. If this goes wrong, he’s our last hope.”

  Madeleine grudgingly accepted the importance of her role and tied Amy’s hands loosely behind her back.

  Alfie slipped a small knife into Amy’s sock, then removed his talisman and handed it to Madeleine. “Look after this,” he said, and then gave her his walkie-talkie. “And you’re going to need this.”

  Looking as cold and confident as the elf was harder than Alfie thought as he strode out of the library and down the corridor in a body that felt all wrong, pushing Amy along in front of him. Luckily the path to the stairs and down to the first floor was clear. When he reached the landing he looked swiftly around, took Amy’s walkie-talkie from her belt, opened the visor of a suit of armour and dropped it inside. He knew Madeleine would be watching and hoped he could rely on her to play her part at the right time.

  “Ready, Amy?” he whispered. He began to drag her down the rest of the stairs as she struggled and kicked out at him.

  “Get off me! Let me go!” she hollered.

  Elves ran out to see the cause of the commotion and laughed to see one of their number with a grossly swollen face struggling with a young girl. Remembering his character, Alfie scowled viciously at them and dragged Amy into the Great Hall.

  Merioch stood up and the Queen clapped her hands with joy as Alfie brought Amy before her. He handed over a knife he had grabbed from Orin’s study to indicate he had disarmed her.

  “Amy!” Robin shouted, struggling to get to his feet, his face a mask of horror to see Amy captured too. Merioch pushed him back down and prowled around Alfie and his prisoner. Alfie couldn’t tell if he was suspicious or just trying to intimidate. He barked something in Elvish. Alfie shook his head and pointed to his swollen jaw, but Merioch wasn’t satisfied. He spoke again and Alfie let out an indistinct mumble. This only seemed to make him angrier.

  “He can’t answer you,” shouted Amy, looking up at the elf defiantly. “You wouldn’t be able to talk either after an iron glove to the face.”

  The corner of Merioch’s mouth turned up into a humourless smile as he regarded Alfie.

  “I’ve always said Loth was too slow to catch his own breath,” he sneered, waving Alfie away. Alfie took a seat at the closest end of the table trying to hear what was being said over the derisive laughter of the elves around him. Either Loth wasn’t popular, or the other elves wanted to ingratiate themselves with Merioch. Alfie suspected it was both. He glared at them, glad that they seemed to have accepted his disguise completely.

  “Time is up,” said the Queen. “Have you brought the lens in exchange for your friend?”

  “No,” said Amy as Merioch made a move to search her. “He already checked me for it.” She nodded towards Alfie who shook his head to signify he hadn’t found it. “It’ll be here soon though,” she added quickly as the Queen’s face began to cloud over. “Alfie needs to get it from where it’s hidden. He sent me to tell you he’d bring it soon.” She let her lower lip quiver. “Please don’t hurt us.”

  Alfie thought Amy was doing a great job of sounding afraid, but with Merioch standing over her he imagined that most of her fear was real. The storm passed from the Queen’s face and she smiled sweetly. “I hope so, little one. I would hate to watch Merioch hurt either of you. Now sit by me. We’ll soon see if your friend is really on his way.”

  Merioch dragged Amy over to sit next to Robin as the Queen picked up Robin’s walkie-talkie again. Alfie had to stop himself jumping up as he realized her voice would echo out through the radio he had hidden in the armour and ruin his plan. How could he stop her using it without raising suspicion? He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white as the Queen spoke into the radio. He let out his breath in a gasp as the Queen shook it and then tossed it aside to smash on the flagstones. The battery was dead; his plan could still work. Robin had noticed Alfie’s reaction and said something in Amy’s ear. She whispered back and Robin’s eyes widened in amazement. He quickly looked away from Alfie so as not to draw suspicion.

  “No whispering,” tutted the Queen, tapping Amy lightly on the nose. “Your communication device no longer works, but the clock is ticking.” She smiled and made a ticking motion with her finger then went back to playing with the little silver sparrow. Alfie was glad to see Merioch stride out of the room. He imagined it was to find whoever was bringing the talisman so that he could take it and claim the credit himself.

  Amy leant back slightly. Alfie hoped she’d be able to get the
knife out of her sock. She shuffled closer to Robin. Alfie guessed it would take her a couple of minutes to cut through Robin’s ropes. He hoped Madeleine was watching the mirror and ready to act. The walkie-talkie had been a close call.

  A dark shadow flitted past the window. Alfie stiffened, but none of the other elves had seen Artan swoop down to float just below the window ledge. Alfie looked to Amy and she gave him a little nod to indicate she had cut their bonds and they were ready to go. He stood up and stretched as though his arms and back were stiff, hoping that Madeleine would spot the signal. She did.

  Almost immediately a strange moaning floated down from the first floor. The elves were laughing and shouting too loudly over the table to notice, so Alfie let out an unintelligible shout and cupped his hand to his ear. The table went quiet as the eerie moans echoed through the castle like an angry ghost, growing louder and louder. Arming themselves with their bows, the elves hurried to the entrance hall. Merioch was standing on the bottom step, staring up at the suit of armour inside which Alfie had hidden the walkie-talkie.

  Alfie remained just inside the Great Hall to watch Amy and Robin. Madeleine was certainly throwing her all into the screeches and yells echoing out from the armour. None of the elves seemed to want to go anywhere near it. He assumed that the story of the animated suits of armour at Muninn and Bone’s offices had spread. The Queen finally decided that the disturbance was worthy of her attention and left her throne to view the situation for herself.

  Amy immediately leapt up and ran for the window, Robin limping slowly and painfully behind as though his legs had gone to sleep after kneeling for so long.

  Alfie held his breath as he tried to keep one eye on the elves and the other on Amy and Robin. Amy was struggling with the stiff iron latch on one of the huge leaded windows. The more Alfie’s heart pounded in his chest, the harder it was to stay in disguise. His disguised skin itched as he tried to calm his nerves.

 

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