by Emily Rodda
Mimi hadn’t taken a lot of convincing that Uncle George and Spoiler were one and the same when Leo had explained his theory to her the night before. She remembered Aunt Bethany’s stories as well as Leo did. She remembered that Wicked Uncle George had disappeared without trace just before the police came for him. She saw straight away that the music box would be a perfect place for a criminal to hide.
‘So George inherited the music box from his father, and came here just like a tourist at first – to have fun,’ she whispered. ‘Then, when things got hard for him at home and he needed to disappear, he just came to Rondo for good.’
‘And met the Blue Queen,’ Leo said slowly.
‘Yes!’ hissed Mimi, sitting up. ‘And that’s why the Blue Queen suddenly got powerful, Leo! It wasn’t because the old king died. It was because she met George!’
‘The life force thing, you mean?’ Leo murmured, his heart sinking. ‘You think George – Spoiler – gave the queen the extra strength she needed to do all those things she did in the Dark Time? Like getting rid of the Terlamaines’ forest, and moving the river. And … turning Jim and Polly’s families into swans?’
Mimi had nodded, and after a while, she’d silently lain down again.
They hadn’t talked much after that. Leo had been sure he’d never get to sleep, but gradually his thoughts had started to mingle with dreams, and sleep had come.
Now it was morning, and he had to face his new knowledge all over again. He had to face, too, whatever this day might bring. Fighting down a flare of panic, he began to tidy up his and Mimi’s bedding. That job, at least, he knew how to do.
He had just finished folding the last of the blankets when Jim came in, his hair wet and his face freshly shaved.
‘Good morning!’ Jim said heartily, striding to the side door and throwing back the bolt. ‘Sleep well?’
‘Very well, thank you,’ Leo answered.
Mimi turned around, smiled and nodded. Her face was dreamy and very peaceful.
‘It’s beautiful out there,’ she said, glancing back at the window. ‘There are blue butterflies everywhere, and the sun’s making tiger stripes on the grass.’
‘Well, let’s hope they’re the only tiger stripes we see today,’ Jim said, taking a handful of twigs and some larger pieces of wood from the basket by the door. He spoke jokingly, but his face was thoughtful as he moved to the stove. The memory of Tye the Terlamaine's black-clad figure seemed to darken the room.
‘You’ll be planning to leave after breakfast, I daresay,’ Jim said, as he fed the sticks into the stove.
It was a statement, not a question. Obviously he wanted them out of his cottage and on their way as soon as possible.
I’d feel the same in his place, Leo thought, as Jim blew on the glowing embers remaining in the stove from the previous night till the twigs crackled and caught alight. The longer we stay, the more we put his family in danger. If Conker and Tye come back … if the Blue Queen ever finds out that Jim and Polly hid us …
He glanced at Mimi. Her dreamy expression had vanished.
‘We’ll leave now,’ she said stiffly, edging towards the door Jim had just unlocked. ‘We won’t wait for breakfast. I never eat breakfast anyway.’
Leo felt a pang. He was ravenously hungry himself. But he murmured agreement and began hastily pulling on his jacket.
Jim pushed the larger pieces of wood into the stove, slammed the stove door and straightened up without haste.
‘Well, I’m not setting foot outside this house till I’ve eaten,’ he declared, dusting off his hands and setting a black iron pot on the heat. ‘And if you take my advice, you won’t either. You won’t get far without some good hot food in your stomachs, and I’m blessed if I’ll carry you all the way to Troll’s Bridge.’
Mimi froze, her hand on the doorknob. ‘Troll’s Bridge?’ she asked.
‘You’re coming with us?’ Leo burst out at the same moment.
‘Polly and I decided I should,’ Jim said, walking back to the wood box and picking up more logs. ‘You were determined to go on, and we couldn’t let you do it alone. It’s too dangerous. I’m only taking you as far as the bridge, mind. I promised Polly that.’
‘You mean the bridge at the end of the road?’ Mimi asked, to be sure. ‘The one that crosses the river into Blue Queen territory?’
‘That’s the one,’ Jim said, carrying the logs to the fireplace.
He put down the logs and lifted the fireguard aside. ‘I can show you a short cut through the forest. Polly and I both thought you’d do better to keep off the road, where you can be easily seen.’
He knelt down and began expertly building up the fire, this time using bellows to coax the glowing coals into life.
‘Unless,’ he added casually, without looking round at them, ‘you’ve decided to do the sensible thing and take yourselves home after all.’
‘Well, I haven’t,’ Mimi said immediately.
Leo hesitated. And it was then that he realised that something strange had happened to him. He didn’t want to go home either. Not any more.
‘I want to go on too,’ he said stolidly.
Mimi flashed a surprised and grateful glance at him, and he shrugged.
‘That’s that then,’ said Jim. ‘Would one of you give the porridge a stir? Nothing worse than burnt porridge.’
Why do I feel like this? Leo thought, going to the stove and picking up the wooden spoon that lay on the table beside it. Everything I heard last night should have made me more scared than ever. This place must be starting to affect my mind.
He plunged the spoon into the pot of porridge and began slowly to stir, trying to make sense of his thoughts. The stories about the Blue Queen and the Dark Time had scared him all right. The trouble was, they had made him angry too – angry enough to want to stop the Blue Queen having her way just for once.
But deep down he knew that anger alone wouldn’t have been enough to cut through his usual cautious good sense. What had done that was the terrible shame he’d felt when he’d realised that a member of his own family had shared in, and encouraged, the Blue Queen’s reign of terror.
It’s stupid to feel responsible, he told himself, staring down into the porridge pot. Spoiler came here long before I was born. What he did isn’t my fault!
But he was from my world, his conscience told him. And he was a Langlander. He once owned the music box, just like I do now. And he abused it. I can’t forget that.
Leo knew Mimi would never understand his sense of responsibility for Spoiler’s actions. Mimi had had her own battles to fight, all her life. As a result, she didn’t feel responsible for anyone but herself and the ones she loved.
But Leo did. He couldn’t help it.
Spoiler might be just a sneak-thief now, but once he had helped the Blue Queen do terrible things to good people like Jim and Polly and their families. He had done it all just so he could live like a king. And now he was still doing the Blue Queen’s bidding – still living on like a parasite on this world, still sneaking and plotting, still causing unhappiness wherever he went and spoiling everything he touched.
I can’t undo what he did, Leo thought grimly. But maybe somehow I can make him pay for it. I can try, anyway. Once we’re in the castle …
‘Hey!’ Jim called to him from the fireplace, where the fire was now crackling merrily. ‘You don’t have to beat the life out of it, Leo!’
Leo realised that he’d been attacking the porridge as if it was Spoiler himself. He grinned shamefacedly, and lifted out the sticky spoon.
‘Is the porridge nearly ready?’ Polly asked, coming into the room with Rosebud gurgling in her arms and Grandma hobbling close behind. ‘We’re all starving!’
The porridge, thick, smooth and sweet with honey, had been eaten with relish. Even Mimi, whose mother had written ‘porridge’ in capital letters on the list of foods Mimi refused to eat, had scraped her bowl clean.
The dishes had been washed. Belongings had been ga
thered. Jim had filled a small pack with provisions, and pulled on his boots. It was time to leave.
Everyone moved out into the bright morning sun, and around to the back of the cottage. Jim pointed out a narrow path leading into the forest just behind the hen house.
‘That’s our track,’ he said. ‘Ready?’
But Mimi and Leo weren’t ready. They were arguing with Bertha, who had suddenly announced that she intended to go with them.
‘Now that I’ve heard your story, I can’t possibly let you to do this by yourselves!’ she exclaimed, when Leo and Mimi tried to persuade her to go to town as she’d planned. ‘I can be a model any time! Besides, I’ve always wanted to go on a quest. This will show my brother once and for all that he should take me seriously.’
‘A pig’s got no business going on a quest,’ Grandma said grumpily. ‘I’ve never heard the like! If anyone’s going to face the Blue Queen with these children it should be a hero, not a great galumphing –’
‘Grandma! You should have seen Bertha fight that wolf!’ Polly broke in hastily. ‘Bertha is a hero!’
Bertha, who had begun to swell with rage, calmed down a little. ‘Heroine, actually,’ she murmured, nodding to Polly graciously.
Grandma hunched her shoulders. ‘Well, that’s as may be,’ she growled. ‘Still, wolf-fighting’s one thing, and questing’s another. A trained hero would be better.’
‘I had always understood that most of the professional heroes were wiped out in the Dark Time,’ Bertha said coldly.
‘A lot of them went in the final battle, that’s true,’ Grandma said. ‘But there are still a few about. There’s that knight over in –’
‘He’s no use, Grandma,’ Jim said. ‘He’s only interested in dragons, and he rusts up when he gets wet.’
‘And the giant-killer’s retired,’ Polly put in. ‘He’s got enormously fat, they say, and has trouble with his knees.’
Grandma snorted in disgust. ‘I don’t know what Rondo’s coming to,’ she grumbled.
‘We’d better be off,’ Jim said. He bent to kiss Polly and Rosebud, hoisted his bag onto his shoulder, and strode to the mouth of the path with such energy that he caused a great fluttering in the hen house.
‘Have you got the butter cakes, Jim?’ Polly called after him. ‘Don’t forget to give them to –’
‘I won’t forget,’ Jim called over his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry!’
Polly hugged Mimi and Leo and curtsied to Bertha, who curtsied gracefully in return, the flowers on her hat bobbing.
‘Take care now,’ Polly said, as they turned to go. ‘And don’t stray off the path.’ She laughed and shook her head. ‘Oh, I’m starting to sound like my mother,’ she said. ‘She always used to tell me that. But it’s good advice, believe me.’
‘If there are no heroes to be had, what about a handsome prince?’ Leo heard Grandma mutter to Polly. ‘The latest crop of princes are all fools, I hear, but even a fool would be better than a pig, surely to goodness!’
‘Sshh, Grandma!’ hissed Polly, but fortunately Bertha hadn’t heard.
‘Come on!’ Jim shouted.
Leo and Mimi hurried to join him, with Bertha trotting briskly after them. The moment they reached him, Jim gave Polly a final wave, then turned and set off down the path, so fast that they almost had to run to keep up with him. Obviously he wanted to get them well away from the cottage as soon as he could.
The path twisted and turned. When Leo looked over his shoulder just a few moments later he could no longer see Polly and Grandma, the hen house or even the cottage itself. He could see nothing but shadows and whispering trees.
Chapter 22
Deep Wood
Every now and then, the path through the forest split into two – one trail winding away to the left, the other leading to the right. Each time this happened Jim chose his way without hesitation and strode on, keeping up a great pace. Leo, Mimi and Bertha were forced to hurry after him, afraid that if they lost sight of him they’d take the wrong turning.
By the time he stopped at last, at yet another fork in the path, Mimi was red-faced and gasping for breath, Bertha was complaining that she had a stitch, and even Leo was panting.
Jim turned as they caught up with him. He looked as fresh as when he’d started out. ‘Was I going too fast for you?’ he enquired in surprise.
‘Yes!’ snapped Bertha, jerking her head to toss back her hat, which had fallen over one eye. ‘It was extremely inconsiderate!’
Leo was sure Mimi would have said much the same thing if she could speak, but fortunately she was bent over, her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
‘Sorry,’ Jim said cheerfully. ‘I wanted to make a good start, that’s all. Never mind. We’ve almost reached Deep Wood so we’ll be moving more slowly from now on. We’ll have to keep our eyes open. Not many people take the Deep Wood path and there are a quite a few good reasons for that.’
Casually he pulled his axe from his belt. Leo felt a shiver, like a trickle of icy water, run down his spine. He glanced at Mimi. She was slowly straightening up. Her eyes were wide and frightened. Behind her, Bertha had stopped looking irritable and had begun peering warily around instead.
‘You’ll be all right,’ Jim said, seeing their expressions. ‘Most Deep Wood types won’t trouble you if you don’t trouble them. Stay close together and keep your voices down. And if you see anything, take no notice of it. Just walk on.’
Leo didn’t find these words very reassuring. In fact, they made him more nervous than ever, and he was fairly sure that Mimi and Bertha felt the same. None of them said anything, however. They all merely nodded to show they’d understood.
Jim set off along the left-hand path, this time moving at normal walking pace. His companions followed in single file, with Leo at the front, Mimi close behind him, and Bertha bringing up the rear.
Gradually the light dimmed as the roof of branches thickened above their heads. Their feet made little sound on the path, which was carpeted with dead leaves. No birds sang. A few blue butterflies fluttered sluggishly about, but they were the only moving things to be seen.
They passed a simple cottage nestled in a clearing deep among the trees. A row of white beehives stood at one side of the clearing, near a clothesline where three sets of sheets and three pillowcases had been hung out to dry. The cottage itself was very neat and tidy, and smoke rose from its chimney.
Who’d live way out here? Leo thought, slowing to look. His heart jumped into his mouth as he saw a huge, furry shape pass behind one of the windows.
‘A bear!’ Mimi squeaked, and clapped her hand over her mouth.
‘Walk on,’ Jim warned in a low voice, and they hurried to obey him.
As they moved ever more deeply into the wood, the air became heavy and hard to breathe. The trees were ancient. Nightmarish faces seemed to grin from their gnarled and twisted trunks. Between the trees there were dark, looming shadows that moved with stealthy, rustling sounds.
The back of Leo’s neck was burning. He was certain that they were being watched.
It’s just my imagination, he told himself. But he didn’t turn his head to look properly into the trees. He was afraid of what he might see if he did.
Jim walked steadily, looking straight ahead, his axe swinging loosely in his hand. He seemed perfectly at ease but Leo could see by the set of his shoulders that he was alert, and listening.
Another fork in the path was ahead. Leo had long ago given up trying to keep track of the way they had come. He’d simply followed Jim blindly. Now they were in the depths of the forest, and for the first time Leo realised how helpless he, Mimi and Bertha would be if for some reason Jim chose to leave them. They’d never find their way back to where they began. They wouldn’t know how to get to the bridge, either. They’d be hopelessly lost.
Why am I thinking like this? Leo thought nervously. Jim wouldn’t leave us.
At the same moment, he noticed a faint, sweet smell drifting on the
air. It wasn’t a flower scent. It was more like the warm, delicious smell of a cake shop. He sniffed appreciatively.
‘Leo,’ Mimi whispered, tugging at his sleeve. He looked around and saw that she was staring into the trees to her right.
Just visible through the towering tree trunks was another cottage – this time the prettiest cottage Leo had ever seen outside the pages of a storybook. The posts of the verandah looked like twists of golden toffee. The slates of the roof reminded him of shaved chocolate.
He stared at it, fascinated. He knew at once that it was the source of the delicious smell. Perhaps the owner of the cottage was baking something. Or perhaps…
The cottage door opened and an old woman came out. She was tall and very thin and was dressed all in black from her tattered black shawl to the toes of her buttoned boots. Her long white hair hung raggedly around her shoulders. Her nose curved down so far that it almost met her bony chin. She looked straight at Leo and Mimi. She smiled at them and beckoned.
Walk on, Leo told himself. Walk on. But suddenly there was nothing he wanted more in the world than to accept the old woman’s invitation.
He took a step off the path, only vaguely aware that Mimi was doing the same.
‘Ooohh!’ squealed Bertha in alarm.
Leo felt himself being roughly grabbed by the arm. Before he could do or say anything, Jim had pulled him and Mimi back onto the path.
‘Walk on!’ Jim ordered. And when Leo and Mimi made no move to obey, but simply looked longingly back at the pretty cottage and its smiling owner, he swore under his breath, tightened his grip on their arms, and dragged them bodily away.
Afterwards, Leo was never sure how long it had taken for Jim to hustle them, fast and angrily, through the remainder of Deep Wood. Bertha said she’d been far too upset and worried to pay attention to the time, Mimi couldn’t remember the journey any more than Leo could, and he’d been far too embarrassed to ask Jim.
When at last he came to himself, it was like waking from a dream. Slowly he became aware that he was sitting under a tree, his back resting against the trunk. His legs were aching. Mimi was sitting beside him, blinking dazedly. The ground in front of them was dappled with mellow sunlight, and streaked with the long shadows of late afternoon. Dots, smaller and harder-looking than the dots he’d seen in town, scuttled furtively through the long grass.