by Emily Rodda
Jim was sitting against another tree, staring into space. Bertha was sprawled nearby, contentedly working her way through a bag of small, dark red apples.
We must be out of Deep Wood, Leo thought in confusion. How did that happen?
Thinking back, he remembered seeing the pretty little cottage, and enjoying its sweet, cake-shop smell. Then he remembered the old woman coming out and beckoning to him. And suddenly a vivid memory of the woman’s grinning face swam up at him from the dreamlike haze that still clouded his mind. Now he could see the wickedness in that grin, and the flash of those cold, hungry eyes.
His stomach lurched, and his face grew hot. What would have happened to him, and to Mimi, if Jim hadn’t pulled them back onto the path?
Nothing good, that was for sure.
He ran his fingers through his hair. Jim and Bertha both looked up quickly and scrambled to their feet.
‘It’s all right,’ Leo told them.
His voice sounded husky. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘I’m not going to try to escape and get back to that cottage or anything. The spell – or whatever it was – has worn off.’
‘Well, thank goodness for that!’ Bertha exclaimed. ‘The way you behaved! I’ve never been so shocked in all my life. And do you know how long we’ve been sitting here, waiting for you to wake up?’
‘It was my fault,’ Mimi said loudly, making everyone jump. ‘I was the one who stopped first. I made Leo look.’
‘Oh, so you’ve come to your senses as well, have you?’ cried Bertha, working herself up into a lather of righteous indignation. ‘You were keeping very quiet about it. Ashamed of yourself, I suppose. And so you should be! Didn’t your parents teach you anything? Don’t you know you should never ever stop to look at a nasty old –’
‘Obviously they didn’t know, Bertha,’ Jim interrupted calmly, as Leo’s face grew redder and Mimi’s grew stiffer and paler. ‘They’re strangers in these parts. I should have warned them.’
He bent and rummaged in his pack, carelessly brushing away the dots that were crawling all over it.
‘I just assumed that problems on the coast were the same as they are here,’ he added. ‘Well, I was wrong, wasn’t I?’
He straightened up with a packet of food in his hand.
‘To tell the truth, I was wrong about a few things,’ he said. ‘I haven’t taken the Deep Wood path for quite a while, but I’m sure there weren’t anything like so many bears the last time I came through. I’ve never seen so many. For a while there seemed to be one behind every tree. And instead of going about their own business, they were all looking at us.’
Leo’s stomach churned, remembering the looming shadows, the faint, rustling sounds, in the depths of the wood. So they hadn’t been his imagination after all.
‘The good news is,’ Jim said cheerfully, handing him a chunk of crusty brown bread and a wedge of cheese, ‘we haven’t got far to go now. The bridge is just ahead.’
‘But how can it be?’ exclaimed Leo, astonished, as Jim turned to give Mimi her share of the food. ‘We couldn’t possibly have come so far in –’
Jim and Bertha both laughed. Plainly, during the time that Leo and Mimi had been bewitched, they had become good friends.
‘We went through a Gap!’ Bertha chortled. ‘There are often Gaps where there are a lot of trees, you know. And Jim knew exactly where to find this one. It took us straight from the end of Deep Wood to here! It’s smaller than the one that starts in Flitter Wood, Jim says, but it was such fun!’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Fun for me, that is. Poor Jim had a terrible time trying to hold on to you in all that mist while you were struggling and fighting to get back to –’
‘Never mind,’ Jim said, grinning and holding up his hand. ‘All’s well that ends well. Right?’
Bertha broke off and shrugged. Leo nodded and tried to smile. Mimi stayed motionless, staring down at her bread and cheese.
Leo wondered what she was thinking. Was she still berating herself uselessly for falling under the witch’s spell in Deep Wood? Or was she wondering, as he was, about the bears?
I’ve never seen so many … And instead of going about their business, they were all looking at us …
Was Mimi wondering, as Leo was, if the increased number of bears, and their interest in travellers through Deep Wood, had something to do with the Blue Queen?
Chapter 23
Troll’s Bridge
‘You must be famished,’ said Jim. ‘Eat up! It’ll be dark pretty soon, and I promised Polly I’d be home before midnight.’
Leo took a bite of his bread and cheese, and only then realised how ravenous he was. The food tasted wonderful. The bread was brown and fresh, with a crisp, crunchy crust. The cheese was soft, pale and tangy. He finished the snack in moments, and wished heartily for more.
‘I’m not really hungry,’ Mimi said in a tight little voice.
Leo glanced at her in irritation, but Jim just shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ he said. ‘But you’ve still got a way to go, and I wouldn’t want to be facing the Blue Queen on an empty stomach, myself.’
He turned away and began searching for something in his pack. Mimi stared thoughtfully at his back, then slowly tore off a corner of her bread and began to nibble at it.
Jim took a bulging red napkin from his pack and unfolded it. Inside were two of the small golden cakes they’d eaten by the cottage fire the day before.
‘These were all we had left after yesterday,’ he said. ‘But two should be enough.’
‘Ooh, they look so yummy!’ sighed Bertha. ‘It seems such a waste…’
‘Can’t be helped,’ said Jim. ‘You wouldn’t want to cross that bridge without a butter cake or two handy. You never can tell with trolls.’
Leo gulped. A breadcrumb went down the wrong way, and he started to cough.
‘Trolls?’ Mimi squeaked.
Jim leaned over and pounded Leo on the back. ‘Something wrong?’ he asked.
Mimi swallowed. ‘Do trolls guard the bridge we’ve got to cross?’ she asked.
‘Oh, just the one,’ Jim said reassuringly, thrusting the water bottle into Leo’s hands. ‘It’s lived under the bridge for as long as I can remember. Well, that’s why the bridge is called Troll’s Bridge, isn’t it?’
‘Oh,’ Mimi said faintly. ‘Yes.’
She took a large bite of bread and cheese and chewed distractedly. She seemed to have forgotten all about not feeling hungry.
Leo sipped some water and wiped his watering eyes. ‘So this – this troll will attack us if we try to cross the bridge, will it?’ he croaked, trying to sound unconcerned.
‘Well, I certainly hope not!’ exclaimed Bertha. ‘It would be very unfair if it ate our butter cakes and then ate us as well!’
‘The troll won’t give you any trouble,’ Jim said confidently. ‘It’s very old, and it’s lost most of its teeth. All it asks these days is a decent show of fear and a butter cake or two. Still –’
He went back to where he’d been sitting, and returned carrying two stout sticks.
‘I picked these up for you earlier,’ he said, handing one of the sticks to Mimi and the other to Leo. ‘If the troll gets too cranky, just give it a good sharp whack on the nose. That should fix it.’
Leo weighed the stick in his hand, feeling rather sick.
‘Don’t you worry,’ Bertha assured him. ‘You won’t need it. If that old troll gets nasty, I’ll take care of it.’
‘Can’t we just swim across the river?’ Mimi asked in a small voice.
Jim shrugged. ‘You could, I suppose. I don’t think there are too many crocodiles up this way. But I’m telling you, if you follow my advice the troll won’t be a problem. Well, are you ready to go?’
Leo nodded, handed back the water bottle and scrambled up, grasping his stick awkwardly. Mimi got up too, hurriedly swallowing the last of her bread and cheese.
They followed Jim through the trees on the other side of the clearing. And there, before th
em, was the road, a dusty brown ribbon with forest on one side and groves of trees surrounding a river on the other.
To their left, the road stretched away into the distance. To their right, not far from where they stood, it ended abruptly at a bend in the river, which was spanned by a narrow wooden bridge.
The river looked deep. Willow trees lined its steep banks, their branches drooping over the water as if the trees were admiring their own reflections in the shining surface.
Leo knew that beyond the river was the vast stretch of smooth green grass that was the Blue Queen’s domain, but he could see little of it from where he was standing, because the willow trees blocked his view. He couldn’t see the Blue Queen’s castle, either. All he could see above the trees’ shaggy green tops were the misty blue mountains rising on the distant horizon.
Jim began walking towards the bridge, keeping close to the side of the road. Mimi, Leo and Bertha followed in single file. It was so quiet that the snapping of twigs beneath their feet sounded loud. No one spoke.
Leo’s heart was thumping painfully. He glanced at Mimi and saw that her eyes looked glazed. She was clutching her stick so tightly that her knuckles were white.
She felt as tense and scared as he did. Maybe she felt worse. He saw her eyes widen, and quickly looked forward again.
Jim had stopped. He was staring at some white swans that were gliding together close to the bank on the left-hand side of the bridge. Beneath the bridge itself there were only dark shadows.
Leo forced his mind away from the shadows and what might be – what was – lurking there. He concentrated instead on the swans. They were the only things about this scene that didn’t look familiar. There were seven of them, and they all looked exactly alike.
‘There aren’t usually swans here,’ he said, without thinking.
Jim turned and looked at him. ‘How do you know that?’ he asked slowly. ‘I thought you’d never been here before.’
Leo realised he’d made a mistake. He felt himself blushing. ‘I – I haven’t,’ he stammered. ‘I just – I just thought you wouldn’t usually find swans here. Because of the troll. And the Blue Queen.’
‘Yes, well, you’re right about that,’ Jim said, frowning and turning back to face the bridge. ‘I can’t say I’ve ever seen swans this far up-river before. It’s odd.’
‘There are seven of them, Jim,’ Bertha whispered, her ears twitching. ‘Do you think they could have come here to see you?’
Jim winced. ‘You mean they might be my family, and Polly’s?’ he muttered. ‘Well, they could be, I suppose. The number’s right. My parents. Pol’s parents. Suki and Walter. Young Lily. Seven.’
He stared at the swans for a long moment. Then he rubbed his forehead angrily.
‘It’s stupid even to think about it,’ he said roughly. ‘Even if they are – even if they once were – Polly’s and my people, they could only be here by chance. They couldn’t have known I was coming.’
He shook his head. ‘And even if they had known, they wouldn’t have cared. They’ve forgotten who they are. They’ve forgotten they were ever human.’
Leo heard the pain in his voice, and his own heart ached.
‘Jim,’ Mimi said tensely. ‘Don’t come any further. We’ll go on alone from here. Just in case …’
Jim turned to her, frowning, and she looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes.
‘In case the swans are spies for the Blue Queen,’ she went on in a rush. ‘If the Blue Queen made them what they are, she might still have power over them. They might have been sent here to watch out for us, and report to her. And if they see you with us …’
Her voice trailed off, but there was no need for her to finish. Everyone knew how far the Blue Queen would go to gain revenge on people who helped her enemies. The swans were living proof of that.
Jim rubbed his hand over his brow again. ‘You might be right,’ he muttered. ‘I don’t mind for myself, but I can’t put Polly and Rosebud and Grandma at risk. I just can’t –’
His strong face was full of anguish, and Leo felt a rush of sympathy for him.
This is what the Blue Queen and Spoiler have done, he thought. They’ve made brave, decent people like Jim and Polly afraid. And they’ve made them ashamed. But the Blue Queen and Spoiler are the ones who should be ashamed – ashamed because they don’t care for a single soul except themselves.
‘We’ll be fine from here,’ he heard himself saying, with forced cheerfulness. ‘Thanks for everything, Jim. We –’
‘Never mind about that,’ Jim broke in. ‘I was going to tell you all this at the bridge, but I’ll tell you now. When you’re safely on the other side, turn right, and go into the willow trees. You’ll find someone there who’ll help you. He’s expecting you. I sent him a mouse last night.’
He met Mimi and Leo’s startled eyes, and shrugged. ‘Polly and I couldn’t let you risk your lives, after all you’ve done for us,’ he said. ‘So we’ve organised a hero for you. The best there is.’
‘But – but this morning Grandma kept saying –’ Mimi began.
Jim shrugged again. ‘Grandma doesn’t know this hero is still in business. Hardly anyone does. He values his privacy, you might say, and he only takes on jobs he feels like doing. But he – well, he feels he owes Polly and me a favour, and in the note I explained about Rosebud and the wolf and all, so we think he’ll decide to help you if you talk to him nicely. He’ll give you a bed for the night, too.’
‘Jim, how can we ever thank you?’ Leo burst out, overwhelmed with gratitude and relief.
‘How can we ever thank you?’ Jim answered. ‘Now, before I forget …’
He handed Mimi and Leo one of the little butter cakes each.
‘Put these in your pockets,’ he said. ‘You’ll know when to use them. You can’t risk swimming the river now. Not with those swans around. Well, good luck.’
He hitched his pack higher on his shoulder and stepped off the road, back into the trees.
‘Watch out for bears on your way home, Jim,’ Bertha murmured. ‘There were so many of them in Deep Wood. A lot more than usual, you said …’ There was a strange note in her voice. Her eyes were anxious.
‘If you mean the bears might be Blue Queen spies as well, I’ve already thought of that,’ Jim said sombrely. ‘Luckily it was quite dark, and they stayed back from the path. They didn’t get a good look at me, and I won’t be giving them a second chance – or leading them back to the cottage, either. I’ll go back through the Gap, then cut through to the road and walk home that way.’
They said goodbye and left him standing there. All their hearts were very full. Without any discussion, they moved into the middle of the road and began walking briskly towards the bridge. None of them looked back. It was important that the swans didn’t realise they’d had someone with them.
Leo was certain, however, that Jim was still watching them. He could almost feel Jim’s eyes on his back. The thought comforted him a little, though he would much rather have had Jim himself striding along with them, tall and capable, the axe swinging in his hand.
He caught a whiff of an awful smell, and wrinkled his nose. The smell was like a mixture of rotten meat, blocked drains and very old garbage. With every step he took, the smell grew stronger. He realised that it was coming from the bridge.
‘Troll,’ Bertha said, shuddering delicately. ‘Disgusting!’
A moment afterwards, one of the swans saw them. It made a small warning sound. The other swans turned their heads to look, their slim necks twisting like white snakes.
‘They were watching for us, all right,’ said Bertha grimly. ‘Be ready, in case they come at us. Swans are much stronger than they look, and these are big ones.’
Leo tightened his grip on his stick, wondering how much use it would be against seven angry, enchanted swans. But the swans made no move to leave the water. They just watched as the companions moved closer and closer to the bridge. Their flat, black-edged eyes reminded Leo u
npleasantly of Freda the duck.
Mimi wasn’t paying any attention to the swans. She was looking straight ahead, her eyes fixed on the thick grey planks of the bridge.
‘Have you seen any sign of the troll yet?’ Leo whispered to her.
Mimi shook her head slightly, but didn’t speak.
‘It’ll be underneath the bridge,’ Bertha said knowledgeably. ‘Lurking. It’ll only come out when we try to cross. That’s what trolls do. They’re really sneaky.’
‘Have you fought a lot of them, Bertha?’ Leo asked, to make himself feel better.
‘Um… not exactly a lot,’ she said.
‘How many?’ Leo asked.
‘Well, none, as a matter of fact,’ Bertha admitted reluctantly. ‘But I saw one once – from a distance. It was unbelievably ugly.’ She thought for a moment, and her ears twitched. ‘And quite big,’ she added.
‘Very big,’ Mimi said dully.
Leo glanced at her. She met his eyes. ‘I’ve seen pictures,’ she said, her lips hardly moving. ‘And I’ve seen them in movies. Haven’t you?’
Leo shrugged. He probably had seen trolls in movies, but he couldn’t remember exactly what they’d looked like. And it didn’t matter anyway. Trolls in movies were just products of someone’s imagination. This troll – the troll under the bridge – was real.
Real. He tried to make himself believe it.
‘What are moovlies?’ Bertha asked with interest.
Uh oh, Leo thought. He wondered how Mimi was going to cover up her mistake, then realised she wasn’t even going to try. She had gone back to staring at the bridge. Maybe she hadn’t even heard Bertha’s question.
‘Movies are pictures that move,’ he told Bertha, trying to sound very casual and unconcerned. ‘Haven’t you ever seen one?’
‘No,’ breathed Bertha, her eyes very round. ‘Why, I had no idea you had exciting things like that on the coast. Oh, I’d adore to be in a picture that moved. I must ask Jolly about it when we get back.’