Casper stood up and surveyed the night sky, which was deep and velvety and full of stars. ‘My mum once told me that if I ever have anything weighing on my mind I should whisper it to the night. She said the sky is always changing so if you let your problems creep out into the dark they’ll be gone when the sun comes up the next day.’
Utterly pulled herself up and stood beside Casper. Then, while Arlo settled himself on her shoulder and curled his tail around her neck, she took a very deep breath. More tears rolled down her cheeks as she whispered to the stars and Casper found himself whispering, too, because there was a storm inside him as well – not one built of moonbows and sisters with certificates – but it was a storm all the same and it was one that beat to a lonely drum. And as both Utterly and Casper’s whispers tiptoed out into the night and were lost in the trails of stardust, Utterly turned to Casper.
‘I’m ready for this now,’ she said. ‘Ready for the Smoking Chimneys and the Midnights and everything else that comes our way.’
‘No more stormgulping?’
‘No more stormgulping.’
Casper pulled on his cape of frozen lightning. ‘Then let’s go save this kingdom.’
Casper, Utterly and Arlo ate food from hatch two for supper – double-decker burgers with curly fries followed by a pudding of avalanche gobstoppers (which exploded upon sucking), blizzard bars (which numbed their gums upon chewing) and fogteasers (which altered the pitch of their voices upon munching). Then they slept for a while.
But when Zip’s voice crackled through the microphone, they pushed back their capes and sat bolt upright. ‘Expect turbulence as we pass through the clouds, and possibly light vomiting.’
Casper stood up and scoured the landscape beneath them. The mountains were so high now their summits were lost in the clouds, but Casper’s eyes were glued to the shards of light slipping between the ridges. It was sunrise, and though there was no sign of the Midnights, the dazzlethread that bound them would crumble at any moment and it would only be a matter of time before the griffins came after them.
Zip rose higher in the sky and Casper knew that the Smoking Chimneys must be close because the air was warmer now, and hanging in its wake was the unmistakable whiff of ash. Casper and Utterly wore their fur capes buttoned up and the frozen lightning kept them cool, despite the heat, just as it must have done for the snow trolls all those years ago at the Battle of the Brutes. Casper thought of Bristlebeard’s friend, Pucklefist, trying to reason with the Midnights. He clearly hadn’t managed to persuade them to call in the shatterblast yet, but maybe he was making inroads all the same. And Casper felt an enormous sense of relief that any moment now they’d have one of the bravest snow trolls on their side.
‘In the absence of seat belts,’ Zip announced, ‘please hold on extremely tightly.’
The hot air balloon surged up into the clouds and for several minutes Casper could feel nothing but warm mist pressing against his face. Then they rose above the clouds to a perfect blue sky and Casper and Utterly blinked at the scene ahead. What they had thought were the bases of mountains earlier had, in fact, been the scree-strewn banks of the very volcanoes they had set out to find.
‘You have arrived at your destination,’ Zip announced, ‘where the current air temperature may bring on dizzy spells and/or death.’
‘The Smoking Chimneys,’ Casper murmured.
The craters seemed to be linked to each other by a number of precarious-looking stone bridges leading up towards the biggest volcano in the middle. Great clouds of smoke and ash puffed up into the sky and the air throbbed with heat. Thankfully though, for the time being at least, there was no sign of any ogres. But on the lip of the largest volcano, as Bristlebeard had feared, there was a very large, open trunk. The ogres, it would seem, had indeed given the shatterblast to the Midnights.
But there was a sight even more terrible than this on the banks of that volcano. A lifeless figure slumped on the scree. And from the torn silver cape strewn a little way away Casper knew exactly who it was.
‘Pucklefist,’ he gasped. ‘The ogres killed him!’
Arlo scuttled under Utterly’s hair and Utterly raised a hand to her mouth. ‘But he had a frozen lightning cape . . . and snow trolls are legendary fighters!’
‘So are ogres,’ Casper replied shakily.
He hadn’t realised how much faith he had placed in Pucklefist until this moment, but deep inside he had been hoping that the snow troll would take charge from here – that the final leg of saving the kingdom wouldn’t really just be up to him, Utterly and Arlo. But now it looked like it was. Poor, poor Pucklefist – the news would shake the snow trolls – and what did it mean about the ogres? Had they decided to side with Morg? And if so, what chance did Casper, Utterly and Arlo have against them?
Casper tried his best to think logically. ‘Do . . . do you think we should at least try speaking with the ogres about the shatterblast before we go sneaking around their volcanoes?’
Utterly eyed the maze of rock and ash before them, then her gaze fell once more upon the snow troll. ‘That didn’t help Pucklefist. And even if we were to give it a go, it wouldn’t be easy. Apparently ogres can only say one word – chomp – so there’s not a great deal of ground you can cover in a negotiation with them, even if the snow trolls thought it worth a shot to save the kingdom.’
Utterly tucked Arlo, who was now sweating profusely, beneath her cape, and Casper looked out over the Smoking Chimneys. Where, in all of this, was he going to find a familiar face? Then he noticed something.
‘Look,’ he whispered. ‘Over there.’
There were a dozen craters bursting through the clouds but it was the one furthest away from Zip that he was pointing at.
‘All of the craters are pumping out white smoke but that one over there is spouting silver smoke.’ He paused. ‘The storm ogre who drank from the Witch’s Fingers that you told me about . . . Perhaps that’s his volcano? You said everything he owned turned to silver.’
‘And the river took his sight,’ Utterly said slowly, ‘which means that if we were to start our search for a familiar face there, our chances of survival might be slightly more than in the other volcanoes because the blind ogre wouldn’t see us!’
Casper nodded. ‘Exactly.’
He tried to imagine bumping into someone he knew on the banks of the volcano or inside its crater. It was easy to picture Leopold and Candida surrounded by silver, but to picture them in a magical kingdom a million miles from home seemed so unlikely, so impossible. And yet magic was both of those things.
Casper took a deep breath, reached for the microphone and whispered into it: ‘Keep a low profile, Zip. Head to the volcano spouting silver smoke but do not rise above the craters at any time because if the storm ogres are down inside them and spot us we’ll be forced into a conversation. And that won’t end well. For any of us.’
There was a cough from the microphone. ‘Stopovers in the Smoking Chimneys don’t usually end well, even without passengers embarking upon chit-chat with storm ogres.’
Casper reached for Bristlebeard’s crossbow and slung it over his cape while Utterly slotted Sir Chopalot into the inside pocket of her own cape. They were as ready as they could be so Zip hastened on towards the volcanoes, skulking down by the cloud line to avoid being seen.
The closer they floated, the warmer the air became. The capes kept Casper and Utterly cool but the armour couldn’t block out their fear and when their ears snagged on the bubble and splash of lava as well as the unmistakable grunts of something large and brutish, Casper clutched Utterly’s arm.
‘I can’t do this,’ he blurted. ‘I’m not a hero.’
‘Me neither,’ Utterly replied. ‘Well, not on my own anyway.’ She drew back her cape and Casper saw that Arlo was perched on her shoulder with his fists raised at the ready. Utterly looked at Casper. ‘But the three of us together? We’ve outwitted drizzle hags, climbed the tallest trees in Shiverbark Forest and snared a flock of Midn
ights. So you know what, Casper? I think we can do anything if we put our minds to it.’
And just as Casper was feeling a little bit bolder, and a little bit more optimistic, something large and mostly naked, save for the lava-stained cloth around its saggy bottom, stumbled out onto the crater of the largest volcano. The storm ogre’s skin was steel-grey and his belly was so huge it looked like he’d swallowed a beanbag. But his head was small and bald.
‘CHOMP!’ the ogre roared.
At his call, more ogres scrambled out of the volcanoes until there was one on the edge of every crater. Casper held his breath as he took in the blind ogre beating his chest on the lip of the volcano above them.
‘CHOMP! CHOMP! CHOMP!’ he bellowed.
Casper clutched the microphone. ‘Duck in behind that crag, Zip.’
The balloon hovered beneath a jutting rock on the banks of the volcano sprouting silver, and while it waited in the shadows, Casper and Utterly peered over the basket. They couldn’t see much from where they were but they could hear a lot of stampeding and, a little while later, all the storm ogres appeared on the lip of the largest volcano.
‘They’re clutching spears tipped with lava and shouting into the volcano,’ Utterly hissed. ‘What are they doing?’
Casper craned his neck and saw the ogres banging their spears on the rocks and hollering ‘CHOMP!’ for all they were worth. A cloud of smoke rose up from the largest volcano but it was neither white nor silver this time. Instead it was a bruised blue-black and as it bulged across the sky it broke apart into thousands of dark tendrils that swayed eerily above the volcanoes. Then the first rumbles of thunder began.
‘They’re conjuring a storm!’ Casper cried.
‘And those trails of black cloud spreading out into the sky must be marvels!’ Utterly gasped.
There were no cauldrons, conveyor belts or mills to organise these marvels, Casper noticed – just a sky full of chaos as the tendrils spilled out. He glanced at the volcano immediately above them, which was still puffing silver smoke. ‘We need to get down into this crater while we still have the chance.’
Casper reached for the microphone but at the same time the thunder growled again and more marvels pulsed out of the largest crater. They swarmed across the sky and sank between the volcanoes until the darkness was so thick it was as if the sun had set. A bolt of lightning split the sky. Bright and terrible, it burst up from the largest volcano, then zigzagged down through the clouds, missing the hot air balloon by a whisker. Once again the sky fell dark and Casper and Utterly were left blinking in the lightning’s wake.
The ogres roared and the clouds kept coming, bringing with them more thunder and more lightning. Then the darkness returned and Casper gripped the microphone with shaking hands. But the command he wanted to give Zip wouldn’t come – the words were trapped in his throat, along with his courage – until he felt Utterly’s hand thread through the dark to clutch his.
And together, they told Zip what to do: ‘Fly on – into the silver volcano.’
The thunder shook Zip’s basket and the bolts of lightning scarred the sky, but still the hot air balloon inched up through the storm clouds towards the volcano’s crater. Casper could hear the ogres urging the storm on in the distance and he knew that the Midnights couldn’t be far away, but they were level with the crater now, and though they couldn’t see much beyond the storm and the silver smoke, he was sure that this was where he would find the familiar face they’d been searching for.
‘You have arrived at your destination,’ Zip said. Then she paused. ‘I hope you have a memorable stay at the most undesirable holiday location in Rumblestar. Please use hatch seven for a descent ladder and may I take this hugely unrelaxing moment to thank you for flying in the SkySoar9000. It’s been a pleasure to have you on board.’
‘You’re . . . you’re going?!’ Casper cried.
‘The SkySoar9000 is yet to be fitted with a lightning-proof balloon,’ Zip replied. ‘It is, in short, a miracle that we have not burst into flames already, so I will be making a sharp exit at this point to avoid immediate death.’
Utterly yanked the level on hatch seven and a rope ladder tumbled out. She threw one end over the edge of the basket and fastened the other to one of the ropes leading up to the balloon. ‘We need to get going, Casper! The ogres might start summoning storms from the other volcanoes – or the Midnights might arrive with their shatterblast – then we’ll be done for.’
Casper grabbed the microphone one last time. ‘Thank you for everything, Zip. You’ve been incredible. And if you change your mind and want one last adrenaline rush before returning to the castle, we’ll probably be fleeing from a pack of ogres or a flock of griffins shortly.’
Utterly slotted Arlo into her cape pocket and made her way down the ladder. Casper followed, his heart thundering against his ribcage. The silver smoke pulsed around them, and lightning flashed, but still their capes kept them cool and safe. They jumped off onto the crater and Zip darted away, then Casper and Utterly looked down into the volcano.
At first all they could see was the billowing smoke, but then a gust of wind blew that sideways and the storm ogre’s home was revealed. The volcano was deep, really deep, and it plunged down to a pit of belching silver lava. But it was the rocky ledges lining the cavern that held Casper’s attention. They were packed full of treasures: jewels, mirrors, coins, crowns, goblets, tiaras. This was the storm ogre’s reward for drinking from the Witch’s Fingers and yet because of the price he’d paid for his riches, the ogre couldn’t see any of it. Casper scanned the crater for any sign of a person – that familiar face that always seemed to be just out of his reach – but only the silver sparkled back at him, and the bubbling lava far below.
Utterly was already racing down the steps cut into the side of the volcano, which wound their way through the treasures, and when the ogres roared again and the storm clouds swelled, Casper sped after her.
They ran on and on, past glinting treasures and through clouds of silver, but when the smoke pulled back for a second time, Arlo squawked from Utterly’s pocket. She stopped in her tracks and Casper bumped into her. Then they peered down into the volcano where Arlo was pointing and to Casper’s surprise he saw that there was a tree standing upright in the middle of the bubbling lava. Only this tree wasn’t silver like everything else in the volcano. It was a perfectly normal tree.
‘What sort of tree could grow in this heat?’ Utterly muttered.
Somewhere above them the ogres bellowed as a sheet of lightning lit the sky, but Casper and Utterly were running down the steps now because both of them could feel that something about this tree was important. It wasn’t particularly tall or impressive – it didn’t even have leaves, just a cluster of crooked branches – but something about the way it stood there, surrounded by silver but untouched by its magic, sang of power.
They drew level with the boiling lava and as they did so the silver smoke vanished and the lava stilled, as if the volcano itself had sensed their presence. Where the steps ended Casper could see an alcove littered with bones and upturned goblets. Perhaps this is the storm ogre’s den, he thought. His gaze slid to the roots of the tree, which were thick enough to walk across and which spread out over the lava at all angles in a web of tangled wood. He placed a nervous foot on the nearest root.
‘Careful!’ Utterly whispered. ‘The snow trolls’ capes have got us this far but I’m not sure how we’d fare splashing around in lava.’
But Casper wasn’t listening because the tree was beckoning him on. He could feel the pull of something familiar, something half-recognised rocking through his bones. Utterly followed him over the roots, with Arlo whimpering from her pocket every time she wobbled, then they were all there together before the tree in the middle of the lava.
A ripple of shock slid down Casper’s spine. ‘This isn’t just a tree,’ he breathed.
Utterly frowned at the trunk. A long, rectangular door had been carved into the wood. It was o
pen and something long and silver was hanging down inside it while above the door there was a clock face. ‘It’s a grandfather clock,’ she said quietly.
And it was then that Casper understood what the wind had meant when it whispered its secret to Slumbergrot. Casper stared at the grandfather clock in disbelief. ‘I was never meant to find a person. Not you or my parents or anyone from home.’ Casper looked at Utterly. ‘All along we were looking for a clock face.’
Utterly shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘This is the clock my dad was repairing back home in the Faraway!’ He pointed to the pendulum, which wasn’t lolling from side to side as it should have been. It was jammed, and instead of ending in a circular disc, this one was just a blunt tip. ‘The pendulum in the clock back home was broken, too – Dad was trying to fix it! This is the clock that brought me here . . .’
Casper reached out a hand and touched the clock and a yearning for home filled his chest.
‘It can’t be the same one,’ Utterly replied. ‘The Unmapped Kingdoms are separate from the Faraway. You can’t have one object being visible in two totally different worlds!’
‘But it is the same!’ Casper cried. ‘Even the hands on the clock are like those on the clock back home: they’re both stuck at twelve.’ He paused. ‘What if that phoenix tear I found in the grandfather clock key blurs the links between the Unmapped Kingdoms and the Faraway . . .? What if somehow its magic turned the clock into a portal that can exist in Little Wallops and here!’
‘But you arrived in the Neverlate Tree,’ Utterly replied. ‘Not here at the bottom of a volcano.’ She paused. ‘Unless . . . the Neverlate Tree’s magic interfered with things. It’s been known to give messages to Unmappers in the past when trouble is brewing; perhaps it sensed your coming here and knew that you and I had to meet so we could stop the Midnights together. It had to make sure that you were in the tree at the same time as me because if you’d stepped out here when you arrived in Rumblestar you wouldn’t have stood a chance – not without a snow troll’s cape!’
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