by Emily Rodda
And then he and Mimi were alone. The Blue Queen had gone. And Mutt had gone with her.
Chapter 6
The Note
‘Mutt!’ Mimi shrieked. ‘Oh, Mutt!’ She burst into hysterical tears. Blood was oozing from a cut on her elbow and running down her arm. She took no notice of it.
Feeling dazed and helpless, Leo carried the silent music box to the desk and put it down. His eyes slid over the desk’s familiar objects – his computer, his maths homework, his pens, the magnifying glass… They seemed like things belonging to another life. The music box, gaudy and alien, seemed more real than any of them.
He picked up the magnifying glass and turned the box around. The castle rose proudly on its smooth green hill, its fairytale towers and turrets gleaming in the sunlight.
The fair-haired queen in the rich blue dress was standing at the end of the drawbridge. She was holding Mutt in her arms.
Quickly Leo turned the box around again, so the back couldn’t be seen. His teeth had begun to chatter.
It’s shock, he told himself, as if putting a name to what he felt would help him deal with it. And, strangely enough, it did. He turned away from the music box and went over to Mimi.
She was still huddled on the floor beside the bed, her whole body shaking with sobs. Leo kneeled down beside her and cautiously touched her shoulder. She shook his hand off.
‘It’s your fault!’ she gasped. ‘It’s all your fault!’
The injustice of this took Leo’s breath away.
‘I don’t know how you work that out,’ he said coldly. ‘We both –’
‘You made me put Mutt down in the first place!’ Mimi sobbed. ‘You shook my arm, and made me. And now – and now –’
Leo had forgotten that. He felt the blood rush into his face.
‘I was trying to get to the music box, to open it,’ he said, talking to himself as much as to Mimi. ‘I thought Mutt would be a distraction, jumping round and barking and everything. How was I to know he’d just sit there and let the Blue Queen –’
‘It wasn’t his fault!’ screamed Mimi. ‘She bewitched him! She’s some sort of sorceress! Don’t you know that?’
‘I…’ Leo sat back on his heels. The blood was still pounding in his head. He forced his numbed mind to work.
‘You didn’t act as if you were scared of her,’ he said slowly and carefully. ‘You were going to take that ring and go with her. If I hadn’t grabbed you –’
‘I was trying to get to Mutt, you idiot! I had to get him away from her!’ Mimi screeched, scrambling to her feet and wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands so that blood streaks mingled with the tears on her cheeks. ‘As if I’d go with her! I knew what she was the moment she started making all those promises. That’s what witches do. They tempt you. They promise you things – impossible, secret things that they know… they know you really want.’
Her voice trailed off. Abruptly she turned away so Leo couldn’t see her face.
The honeyed words of the Blue Queen echoed in Leo’s mind.
You can be admired. You can have friends – as many as you wish…
Those promises hadn’t really meant anything to Leo. They’d gone right over his head.
But the queen wasn’t talking to me, he thought, numbly getting to his feet. She was talking to Mimi. She was looking at Mimi all the time. She was talking about things Mimi wants – things Mimi doesn’t have.
‘I didn’t really listen to all that stuff she said,’ he lied, walking to the fallen chair and pulling it upright as if tidying up his room was the only thing on his mind. ‘I was thinking about how to get her away from the desk.’
Mimi didn’t say anything, but her hunched shoulders seemed to relax a little.
Leo pushed the chair back to its place at the desk. ‘I didn’t think about her being a sorceress, or anything like that,’ he said, to fill the silence. ‘I just thought she was the Blue Queen off the music box. That was scary enough for me.’
To his amazement, Mimi gave a wild snort of laughter. ‘I suppose it would be scary enough for anyone,’ she said.
‘Anyway, as well as being scared of her, I didn’t like her,’ Leo went on. ‘And I didn’t trust her. Her smile was fake. And when she’d finished reading that note she just dropped it on the floor. You could tell she didn’t care about anyone or anything but herself.’
Mimi nodded listlessly. Then Leo realised what he’d just said.
‘The note!’ he exclaimed.
He looked quickly at the floor. There was no sign of any little ball of paper on the polished boards showing around the edges of the floor rug, so he began pacing around, scanning the rug itself. The rug’s squiggly pattern, which included lots of little white patches, made the search difficult.
Mimi watched for a while, then half-heartedly joined him. After a moment she gave a muffled exclamation and crouched down, but when Leo glanced around she was already straightening up, shaking her head.
‘Just a bit of fluff,’ she murmured.
‘Maybe the note got sucked back into the music box with everything else,’ said Leo.
And as he spoke, he saw a little white ball lying right beside his foot. He snatched it up and smoothed the paper out, being careful not to tear it.
Mimi came to look as he spread the note on his desk. She was breathing hard, as if she’d been running.
Together they read the message, which looked as if it had been scrawled in a great hurry.
BEWARE! SHE IS YOUR ENEMY.
DO NOT TAKE HER HAND.
DO NOT TELL HER YOUR NAME.
‘Someone sent a note to warn us,’ Mimi whispered.
Leo’s scalp was prickling. Because he’d had no choice, he’d managed to make his mind accept the fact that the Blue Queen had come out of the music box, had tried to tempt Mimi to follow her inside, then had stolen Mutt away. He hadn’t read any fantasy over the last few years, but when he was younger he’d read stories about genies who lived in bottles. He’d almost decided that the Blue Queen was something like that.
Now he held in his hand the proof, in black and white, that it wasn’t so simple. Other people lived and breathed in the world of the music box – people who thought, and worried, and … and wrote warning notes.
His knees felt weak. He slumped onto his chair, staring at the bright, busy surface of the box. He remembered those times in Aunt Bethany’s dim front room, when he’d been sure he saw the painted figures of the people moving as the music played.
It looked as if he’d been right.
The thought made his stomach churn. He read the note one more time, struggling to make himself analyse it calmly.
‘I don’t get the last sentence,’ he said. ‘Why was it important not to tell her our names?’
‘If a sorceress knows your true name, it gives her power over you,’ Mimi said impatiently. ‘Well, that’s what I’ve read, and obviously the Blue Queen gets power that way. I used Mutt’s name a couple of times before I realised that she was dangerous. That’s how she bewitched him so easily.’
She moved restlessly. ‘Leo, my arm’s bleeding. Could you go and get me something to put on it? I don’t want to get blood all over the floor, walking around.’
‘Sure,’ Leo said, jumping up so fast that his chair nearly toppled over again. ‘There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom. I’ll get it.’
He was very glad that Mimi hadn’t burst into a storm of tears again when she’d mentioned Mutt. Her crying had made him feel so helpless, so guilty, so useless.
He stole a glance at her. She was gnawing her bottom lip. Her fists were clenched and she was still breathing hard. But her eyes had lost that awful wild, glazed look.
She’s trying to be brave, he thought. She’s trying to accept what’s happened, and deal with it. That’s sensible. That’s exactly what she should do.
He was relieved, but rather surprised as well. He wouldn’t have expected Mimi Langlander to see things the way he did.
> He hurried to the door, but as he reached it he thought of something and turned back.
‘That name thing,’ he said. ‘That’s why you tried to stop me telling her yours, earlier.’
Mimi nodded wearily. She was holding her elbow, frowning as if the cut was hurting her.
Leo paused. ‘But I did tell her, so why didn’t she get power over you, like she did over Mutt?’ he asked at last.
‘You told her the wrong name,’ Mimi said simply.
As Leo looked at her in confusion, she gave one of her humourless snorts of laughter. ‘I’m not surprised you don’t know that. For a minute I even forgot it myself,’ she said. ‘My real name’s Marion. My family started calling me Mimi when I was a baby, and they’ve just gone on doing it, whatever I say. I’m even called Mimi at school.’
She lifted her chin. ‘But when I’m older – when I’m a famous violinist – I’ll be able to choose what I’m called. Then I’ll be Marion Langlander. Or maybe I’ll be Anne Langlander – Anne’s my second name. Anyway, I won’t be Little Mimi any more.’
‘Mimi does suit you, though,’ Leo said awkwardly. ‘I mean –’
Mimi tossed her head slightly and turned away. ‘Could you get that stuff for my arm?’ she muttered. ‘It’s really hurting.’
Leo left the room and walked along the hallway towards the bathroom. He made himself stop thinking about Mimi and her problems. He thought instead about the note the mouse had brought.
The music box had run down, but the note was still lying on the rug. That meant that objects didn’t have to return to the box when the music ran down, as living things did.
The Blue Queen had said that some of his and Mimi’s ancestors had visited her world. Had those ancestors brought back jewels, and gold?
While you carry the Key, you can come and go as you please, as so many other Langlanders have done in their time…
For a fleeting moment, standing by the bathroom door, Leo felt a strong regret that he would never be able to test that promise.
Then he shook his head. Nothing, he told himself, would persuade him to wind that music box more than three times ever again. In fact, just now, the thought of winding it up at all made him feel sick.
The bathroom was dim and cool. He turned on the light and went to the cabinet where the first aid kit was kept. There was a large mirror above the cabinet. His reflection almost frightened him. He looked like a haggard stranger.
Quickly he bent and pulled from the cabinet the blue plastic box that held the bandages, the antiseptic and all the other things his mother thought might be needed in an emergency. Carrying the box, he left the bathroom again, flicking off the light as he went.
And it was then that he heard the faint, sweet, chiming of the music box.
For a split second he couldn’t believe it. Then, cursing himself for being such a fool, for allowing himself to be tricked, for not trusting his instincts, he raced for his room.
The door was shut. He threw it open. Mimi was standing at the desk, leaning over the music box.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes defiant, and snapped the box lid shut. The music stopped.
‘What are you doing?’ Leo yelled, storming into the room.
‘I’m going to get my dog,’ Mimi said calmly.
Two thoughts flashed into Leo’s mind. The first was that Mimi Langlander had gone crazy. The second, immediately following, was that somehow, some way, Mimi Langlander meant exactly what she said.
But she can’t mean it, he thought. She can’t –
Then Mimi pushed her fringe out of her eyes. Something gleamed on her middle finger. It was a ring set with small black stones.
Leo thrilled with horror as he understood. The Blue Queen had dropped the ring. Mimi had found it, while looking for the note. She hadn’t told him, because she knew he’d try to stop her …
Mimi looked back at the box. ‘Let me in!’ Leo heard her whisper.
Instantly she was encased in a swirling cone of misty rainbow light. She gasped and crossed her arms on her chest.
‘No!’ Without a thought, Leo sprang forward, reaching for her, reaching through the light.
His hands touched her shoulders. A tingling feeling ran up his arms. His ears filled with chiming music – loud, so loud! He opened his mouth to yell, but he could make no sound. Multicoloured light was all around him, rippling around him like water, and somehow he knew that the light, too, was the music. He felt himself losing balance, falling forward into a tunnel filled with chiming rainbows …
Then there was darkness.
Chapter 7
On the Street
Leo woke slowly. He lay with his eyes closed, wishing that the fly that was tickling his face would leave him alone. Not that he was going to be able to get back to sleep – not with all the noise outside his bedroom window.
There must be a party going on in the house next door, he thought, listening lazily to the babble of chattering voices and the bangs and crashes that sounded as if furniture was being dragged around.
It was strange that the noise seemed so loud – almost as if it was in the room with him. His window was open, of course. It was open so wide that he could actually smell the flowers in the garden. But still…
The flower perfume, in fact, was almost too strong for comfort. It was so sweet, so heavy…
Leo wrinkled his nose, sneezed and opened his eyes.
A mass of battered pink lilies, their stamens heavy with bright yellow pollen, lay on the ground right in front of him. Two small blue butterflies with black-spotted wings were fluttering around not far from his nose.
Leo’s mouth went dry. He lay very still.
Rondo.
‘Here’s another bunch ruined,’ grumbled a voice somewhere very near. ‘Look at the poor things. Bruised to billy-o!’ A brawny arm reached down and the lilies were lifted up, showering Leo with pollen. He sneezed again.
‘Bless my bluebells!’ exclaimed the voice. ‘Who’s that?’
There was a clatter of buckets. The broad brown face of a woman peered down at Leo. The woman’s head was wrapped in a scarf covered with red and white tulips. Green earrings shaped like leaves swung from her ears.
It was the flower-seller, large as life.
Leo stared up at her, unable to say a word.
The woman’s face broke into a gap-toothed grin. ‘Took a tumble, did you?’ she said. ‘I’m not surprised. That was a bad one, wasn’t it? But don’t just lie there in the wet, blossom. Up you get!’
She held out a hand covered in bright yellow streaks of lily pollen. Not knowing what else to do, Leo took the hand and let himself be hauled to his feet.
He realised he’d been lying on one side of the flower stall, towards the back. Metal buckets lay on their sides all around him, the flowers they had contained spilling out onto the ground. The cobblestones beneath his feet were swimming with water and strewn with petals, leaves and broken flower heads.
People were hurrying past, talking in excited voices, some helping other people who were limping or nursing bandaged arms. The parts of the street he could see looked very untidy. As well as voices he could hear banging, clanging, the tinkling of broken glass being swept up, and a baby crying.
The flower-seller stuck the lilies into one of the few buckets that remained upright, put her hands on her hips, and looked at him in concern. ‘Bump your head, did you, blossom?’ she asked.
Leo cleared his throat. ‘I might have,’ he said feebly. ‘Um – could you tell me, please – have you seen a girl anywhere round here? A smallish girl, wearing a pink jacket?’
‘Can’t say I have,’ the flower-seller said. ‘Your sister, is she?’
‘My cousin,’ Leo said. ‘We came here together… I mean, we both –’
‘Came to town to see the sights, did you?’ the woman said sympathetically, wiping her hands on the bib of her green overalls. ‘What a day to choose, eh? Bless my bluebells, Rondo hasn’t had a quake since �
� oh – since before the Dark Time!’
Quake. Earthquake…
Never pick up the box while the music is playing.
Leo’s face grew hot. Again he looked around, and this time he realised what he was seeing. He realised why the street looked messy, why windows were broken and stalls had been overturned and people were upset and nursing injured limbs.
There had been an earthquake – or what the people in this place thought of as an earthquake. And he had caused it, by grabbing the music box while it was playing and running with it to his bedroom door.
The idea of telling the flower-seller where he’d come from was suddenly very unappealing.
‘Never you mind, blossom,’ the flower-seller said, seeing the stricken look on his face. ‘We’ll find your cousin. Can’t be far away, can she? Come out to the front and keep a lookout for her.’
She took Leo’s arm and led him to the front of the stall. She looked up and down the street.
‘Hoy, Crumble!’ she shouted to the pie-man, who was slumped over his upturned tray, staring glumly down at the smashed remains of at least two dozen pies. ‘Hoy! You seen a girl, just a little thing, wearing a pink jacket?’
The pie-man stirred. ‘I might have,’ he said grumpily. ‘Or then again I might not. I’ve got no time to worry about girls in pink jackets. Look at this!’ He waved his hand at the mess on the ground. ‘Ruined! Five best meat, seven apple, three peach, ten turnip-and-chilli mash…’
‘Pull yourself together, you miserable old crab-apple!’ bawled the flower-seller, scowling and nodding so that her leaf earrings swung wildly. ‘All you’ve lost is a few pies, and I know for a fact you’ve been trying to sell those turnip things for a fortnight! This boy’s lost his cousin.’
‘A few pies, indeed!’ grumbled the pie-man. ‘That’s all very well for you to say, Posy. Pies don’t grow on trees, you know – Hey! Get out of it!’ He kicked angrily at three small, flat, golden-brown creatures that had crept out from beneath his stool and were trying to drag away a large piece of pastry covered in gravy.