The Key to Rondo

by Emily Rodda

  ‘Neither did I,’ Leo admitted. ‘But we were running. We must have just missed it.’

  They crept cautiously up the alley, keeping close to the left-hand side. Far ahead, in the little rectangle of light that was the alley’s entrance to the main street, people bustled to and fro like figures on a TV screen.

  Suddenly, when they were least expecting it, they came upon a dingy, half-open window set deep into the wall. Its broad, greasy sill was about level with Leo’s chin. The mingled smells of spices, unwashed dishes and boiled cabbage drifted from the dark room beyond.

  ‘This must be it,’ Leo whispered.

  He put his hands on the windowsill. Briefly, he wondered what he was doing even thinking of sneaking through a strange window like a thief. Then he put the thought aside and hoisted himself up, keeping his head low.

  He slithered through the window and found himself lying face down on the draining board of a huge stone sink. The bowl yawned beside him. The other side was stacked high with dirty dishes.

  Across the room he could just see a thin line of dim light, which he guessed was light seeping through the crack beneath a door. It was so dark that he couldn’t see anything else. But he could hear a sound – a faint, furtive, scuttling sound, which seemed to be coming from the floor.

  Cockroaches, Leo thought in distaste. Or mice. Or even rats! Whatever they are, it sounds as if there are hundreds of them.

  He realised that his feet were still sticking out of the window. He struggled to pull them in after him without slipping and falling off the sink. The idea of crashing down onto a floor crawling with cockroaches was very unappealing.

  Awkwardly he curled himself around and poked his head into the alley again. Mimi’s pale face stared up at him. She held up her hands. He leaned out and hauled her up. She scrambled over the windowsill, her shoes scrabbling on the wall behind her.

  They crouched precariously together on the cold draining board, catching their breath. The stealthy, scuttling sound, which had stopped for a moment while Mimi was being dragged inside, began again.

  ‘What’s that?’ Mimi breathed.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Leo whispered back. ‘Maybe –’

  He broke off in a strangled gasp as lanterns popped into blazing life all around the kitchen walls and the room was flooded with light. He just had time to see with amazement that the floor was seething with the creatures called dots, when the door burst open, and a very short, broad man hurled himself into the room.

  The man had a wild brown beard, exactly the same colour as his skin, and a mass of frizzy brown hair that stuck up all over his head like a wiry halo. His eyes were small and black under tremendous, bushy eyebrows. An earring that seemed to be made of a long white fang dangled from one of his ears, and in each hand he brandished what looked like a large fly swatter.

  ‘Aha!’ he bellowed, slamming the door behind him. ‘Got you!’ And with that, he began dancing around, beating the floor with the fly swatters, his arms flailing up and down like pistons. ‘Take that!’ he roared. ‘And that! And that!’

  The dots squeaked and scattered. Black currant eyes gleaming and stubby little legs pumping, they skittered into hiding below cupboards or into cracks in the walls. Dozens were smashed into crumbs by the furious man’s fly swatters or crushed beneath his big black boots. None of the others took the slightest bit of notice. As soon as they were safe they poked their heads out of their hiding places, making rude, jeering noises and sticking out their tongues.

  ‘It’ll be your turn next time, you little brutes, don’t you worry about that!’ panted the man, turning on his heel and going to the door. ‘Pesky dots! Arrrr!’

  He pulled the door open. ‘Your turn,’ he called, beckoning to someone outside.

  A large brown duck waddled into the room, its flat yellow feet making ominous slapping sounds as they hit the floor. The long, narrow black markings around its glittering eyes made it look as if it was wearing a mask.

  It looked around and snapped its beak. The dots stopped jeering and withdrew their heads hastily. The duck nodded with satisfaction and then set about gobbling up the crumbs and currants that were all that remained on the floor after the small man’s rampage.

  The man shut the door after her, turned around, and finally noticed Leo and Mimi perched on the sink. He jumped in shock. His jaw fell open.

  Leo began rapidly calculating how long it would take them to turn and escape back through the window. Would this terrifying stranger be able to reach them before…

  ‘Hello,’ Mimi chirped brightly. She edged Leo aside and jumped carefully down from the sink. ‘I’m Mimi Langlander,’ she said, with great composure. ‘My cousin and I are strangers here. And – and I hope you don’t mind – but we really need your help.’

  The stranger gaped at her. His arms dropped limply to his sides. The fly swatters, thick with dot crumbs and squashed currants, fell to the floor. The duck looked up briefly, gave what sounded like a snort of disgust, and returned to its work.

  The man’s brown face swelled and darkened. He plunged his hands into his wiry hair and tugged at it as if he was trying to pull it out by the roots.

  ‘You’re – you’re here!’ he bellowed at Leo and Mimi, his voice cracking with dismay. ‘She got you into Rondo after all! Oh, my glory! Oh, my heart, liver and lungs!’

  His eyes bulged. ‘Don’t say it was you making all that fuss in the alley?’ he breathed. ‘Jolly said it was Spoiler with a gang of pickpockets!’

  ‘Spoiler escaped into the toy factory,’ Mimi said. ‘He tried to grab us before he went, but we got away from him – and Officer Begood, too.’

  The man stared at them open-mouthed. He seemed completely flabbergasted.

  ‘We didn’t steal the old man’s wallet,’ Leo added quickly. ‘Spoiler did that earlier. We didn’t have anything to do with it.’

  ‘Oh, of course you didn’t, of course you didn’t,’ gabbled the man, flapping his hands. ‘But – but I still can’t understand how the Blue Queen got you here! Didn’t you get my warning? Didn’t you read it?’

  Now it was Mimi’s turn to stare. ‘You sent that note?’ she breathed.

  The stranger nodded, swallowing. ‘I thought you’d get it in time,’ he said in a choked voice. ‘I sent it by the first available mouse, the moment I heard she was on the move.’

  The duck snorted again. The stranger glanced at it. ‘Freda’s right,’ he said. ‘The mouse did take forever to come. Half the fleet was off duty, it said, and the other half … there was a wedding, apparently – one of the Crystal Palace princesses – lots of greetings to be delivered, and –’

  He broke off, grinding his teeth. ‘I always said it was a mistake to agree to the mice having rostered cheese breaks, whatever they threatened to do if we didn’t,’ he muttered. ‘What if there’s an emergency, I said, while half the communications system is having a tails-up in the tearoom? But no one listened to me, oh, no. No one listened to Conker. Paranoid old Conker, they said. Conker the worrywart, they said. And now look what’s happened! Disaster!’

  Mimi glanced desperately over her shoulder at Leo, who was still crouched on the sink. Leo made himself move. Carefully he climbed down to the floor, feeling as if his legs and arms didn’t belong to him. The dot-eating duck watched him narrowly but didn’t make any aggressive moves.

  ‘It’s a miracle you got away from her,’ said Conker, shaking his head. ‘It was the quake, I suppose. It shook up her power, cracked the enchantment or something. Yes…’

  Suddenly his small black eyes widened and he darted a look at the open window. ‘Where is she now?’ he asked urgently. ‘She’s not prowling around out there looking for you, is she?’

  ‘No. She went straight back to her castle,’ said Mimi, and Leo realised that Mimi must have checked the music box the moment he left his bedroom to get the first aid kit.

  Conker heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Well, that’s one good thing, anyway,’ he said.

  �
�No it’s not,’ Mimi exclaimed. ‘She took my dog! She’s got Mutt!’

  ‘What?’ Conker clapped his hands to his hairy cheeks, his face a picture of dismay. ‘Oh, no!’ he groaned. ‘Oh, my heart, liver, lungs and – gizzards!’

  Freda the duck flapped her wings, her fierce, masked eyes gleaming.

  ‘I’ve got to save him,’ Mimi rushed on. ‘Somehow I’ve got to find my way to the castle and make the Blue Queen give him up.’

  Leo waited for Conker to burst into loud protests – to tell Mimi that what she wanted to do was terribly dangerous and absolutely impossible, and that anyway it would be just absurd to take such risk for the sake of one little dog. To his enormous surprise and dismay, however, the little man nodded seriously.

  ‘Of course!’ he said. ‘Captives have to be rescued, don’t they? That goes without saying. Ah, well.’ He glanced at the duck and shrugged. ‘Our break didn’t last long this time, did it, Freda? Still, I can’t say I’m sorry. Being a dot-catcher has its exciting moments, but it’s a feeble sort of job for a hero to do full-time, in my opinion.’

  ‘You mean – you’ll come with us?’ gasped Mimi. ‘You’ll help us save Mutt? You and – um – Freda?’

  ‘Well, naturally!’ said Conker. Then suddenly his face went blank. ‘Unless you think we’re past it?’ he added stiffly. ‘Too old and out of practice to assist?’

  Freda closed her beak with a snap.

  ‘Oh, no!’ cried Mimi. ‘Of course not!’

  ‘Not at all,’ Leo mumbled, trying to gather his wits.

  Freda gave them a hard look, and went back to eating. Conker’s face broke into a broad, relieved grin. ‘That’s all right then,’ he said, scratching his beard vigorously.

  He picked up his dot swatters, tapped them hard on the floor to clean them, and tucked them into leather holsters dangling from each side of his belt.

  ‘So! When do you want to start out?’ he asked. ‘Dawn is the traditional time for beginning a quest, of course, but…’

  ‘There’s no time like the present, in my opinion,’ the duck said with her beak full.

  ‘My sentiments exactly, Freda,’ Conker agreed. ‘My sentiments exactly!’

  Chapter 11

  The Red Hooks

  Things were moving much too fast for Leo. He felt as if he was on some crazy ride and was unable to get off. Had he actually heard a duck speak?

  If he had, why should he be so surprised, considering where he was, and everything else that had happened? In a way, he should have expected it. He watched in a daze as Conker cautiously opened the kitchen door and peeped out.

  ‘All clear,’ the little man whispered, beckoning.

  Mimi ran to join him. Leo followed slowly, trying to avoid the flattened golden-brown blobs and trails of crumbs that Freda hadn’t yet had time to swallow. The idea of squashed dots sticking to the soles of his shoes made him feel queasy.

  ‘Now, follow me and be as quiet as you can,’ said Conker. ‘If anyone sees you we’ll have to tell a whole bunch of complicated lies and that will mean delay.’

  Delay sounded a very good idea to Leo, but Conker seemed to have taken charge and he was clearly even more impulsive than Mimi.

  ‘First, we’ll find you some different clothes,’ Conker went on. ‘That will make it harder for the Blue Queen to locate you. Then we’ll pick up some supplies. Freda can stay and finish up here. She’ll be ready to leave whenever we are. She travels very light.’

  He ushered Leo and Mimi through the doorway. ‘Back in ten minutes, Freda,’ he whispered, pulling the door shut behind him.

  Freda made no answer. The only sound from behind the door was the steady slapping of her feet on the kitchen floor.

  ‘She’s a duck of few words,’ Conker said affectionately. ‘But in a scrape, you couldn’t have a better partner by your side, believe me.’

  Leo groaned quietly to himself. No wonder Conker didn’t think it was madness to risk everything for the sake of a dog, when he worked and went on quests with a talking duck!

  Outside the kitchen there was a broad passage, dimly lit by a single glowing lantern hanging from the ceiling. The walls of the passage were panelled in dark wood and bristling with brass hooks from which hung coats, cloaks, scarves and hats of many different sizes, kinds and colours. To the right, the passage was blocked by a door of smoky grey glass through which drifted the buzz of chattering voices and the clinking of bottles and glasses.

  ‘Jolly’s opened up again,’ muttered Conker. ‘Excellent! That’ll keep him busy for a while.’ He lifted a well-worn rucksack from one of the hooks and gave it a friendly pat. ‘Hello, old fellow,’ he said to it. ‘Told you I wouldn’t be long.’

  He turned left and, with Leo and Mimi close behind him, hurried along the passage till he reached a large cluster of hooks that were painted bright red. Unlike the brass hooks closer to the glass door, the red hooks supported what looked like dozens of garments each. Bunches of boots and shoes with their laces tied together hung from the hooks closest to the floor, like oddly-shaped fruit.

  ‘Take whatever suits you,’ Conker ordered, gesturing at the red hooks. ‘There’s bound to be something here.’

  Mimi began rummaging enthusiastically through the clothes at once, but Leo held back, frowning. ‘We can’t just take other people’s things!’ he protested.

  Conker clicked his tongue impatiently. ‘These don’t belong to anyone!’ he said. ‘Well, they did once, but now they’re red-hooks. You know!’

  Seeing that Leo didn’t know, he gestured at the red hooks again. ‘They’re mistakes, unwanted gifts, lost clothes that have never been claimed, clothes that don’t fit any more, and so on,’ he explained rapidly. ‘People put them here so they can find new homes. Just go through them till you find something that feels right. Get to it! Quick-sticks!’

  Leo began to go through the clothes dangling limply from the red hooks. A dusty, musty, sad sort of odour hung around them. He didn’t like the thought of putting any of them on.

  Then, suddenly, his hand tingled. He snatched it away from the clothes, thinking that something had bitten him. The tingling disappeared instantly, however, and when he examined his hand he could see no mark on it at all.

  ‘You found something,’ Conker said encouragingly. ‘Good! Take it, Leo, take it!’

  Tentatively, Leo reached out again. Almost at once he felt the tingling begin. He saw that his fingers were touching a brown leather jacket.

  He freed the jacket from the hook and the tingling in his fingers stopped as he held it up to look at it more closely. It was the sort of leather jacket that motorbike riders wore in old movies. The leather was soft, and a wonderful, rich brown. It was exactly the sort of jacket he’d secretly always wanted. It didn’t smell musty, either. It smelled of old leather, fresh air and warm grass. It smelled of adventure!

  It probably won’t fit, he thought, preparing himself for disappointment. When he slipped the jacket on, however, he found it fitted perfectly. He wished he had a mirror so that he could look at himself, and immediately felt embarrassed.

  ‘That suits you, Leo,’ said Mimi from the other end of the red-hook cluster. Leo saw that she already had several garments draped over her arm. She’d obviously caught on to the red-hook system much more quickly than he had.

  Or maybe she always chooses clothes that make her fingers tingle, Leo thought darkly. That wouldn’t surprise me at all.

  ‘Keep going!’ said Conker, glancing in agitation at the smoky glass door.

  Now that Leo had got the idea he worked more efficiently. He didn’t bother to look at the clothes any more. He just ran his hands through them and took out anything that gave him a little shock when he touched it.

  In a very few minutes his arms were full. He had a pair of rough pants in a murky green colour, a soft white shirt, a broad brown belt with a large brass buckle, and a pair of long brown boots.

  He looked at the garments doubtfully. But Conker was nodding with s
atisfaction, and Mimi, a neat bundle tucked under her arm, and small black shoes dangling by their laces from her fingers, also looked approving.

  ‘All right,’ Conker said briskly. ‘That’s that! Now, follow me!’

  He scurried away. Clutching their bundles, Leo and Mimi followed him.

  At the end of the passageway, beside a narrow staircase that twisted up into darkness, there was a door marked Storeroom in black letters. Beneath the black letters someone had pinned a large notice written in purple ink: No Admittance Except On Tavern Business. Trespassers Will Wish They Had Never Been Born. THIS MEANS YOU!

  Ignoring the notice completely, Conker turned the door handle and pushed. The door swung open and he ushered Leo and Mimi inside. ‘Jolly never locks the door,’ he whispered. ‘He can’t be bothered, because he’s in and out of here all day. He thinks his notice will scare thieves off, but of course it doesn’t. Only honest people get scared off by notices.’

  ‘What does that make us, then?’ Leo muttered, as Conker closed the door silently behind him.

  ‘We’re heroes about to go on a quest!’ said Conker indignantly. ‘Heroes have a right to supply themselves with food for their journey. It’s traditional. And anyway, Jolly hired Freda and me to get rid of some of his dots and promised us a fat purse for our trouble. He’s not going to mind if I take food instead of gold.’

  It was very cool and dark inside the storeroom, which smelled strongly of garlic, onions and spices. Leo heard the familiar scuttling of dots and winced as he felt something run over his foot.

  ‘Pests!’ Conker growled. Leo heard the scratching sound of a match. Light flared briefly, then brightened as Conker lit a candle.

  Shadows leaped on the walls, which were stacked high with bags of flour, rice and potatoes, racks of brown bottles, and labelled boxes of provisions. Long, strong-smelling sausages, nets of onions, ropes of garlic, legs of ham and sides of bacon swung from hooks attached to the ceiling. At floor level, hundreds of dots dived into hiding.

  ‘Change your clothes,’ Conker ordered. ‘I’ll collect some food.’