Snap

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  The wind blew in with a whoosh and a tumble, a bump and a whole armful of white feathers. He shut the window again as fast as possible, clunk. But the whoosh continued. Then a voice behind him said, “Passage to Lashtang. Was it you who asked for a lift?”

  With a jolt as sharp as the knife blade, Nathan turned.

  It was a Goose. Large, smart, tall as Nathan’s shoulder, pure white as snow and fierce-eyed, the Enbden goose stood beside the bed and regarded Nathan, who stared back with considerable confusion. “Did – you say something?” he asked with a hiccup.

  “Certainly,” said the goose. “I received the usual message. Someone needs a special lift to Lashtang, payment already negotiated. So here I am.”

  “But,” mumbled Nathan, “who sent the message and who negotiated the price? I’m not sure where I want to go. Well, I suppose I did ask – but I didn’t expect anything like this.” He thought a moment. “I’m not sure I want to go,” he ended on another hiccup.

  With a sort of feathery shrug, the goose settled itself on the little Turkish rug at the end of the bed. “Oh well,” it said with a hint of irritation, “I’ll just have to wait here until another message comes in.”

  “So where did you get the first message from?” Nathan wasn’t used to sharing his bed with a goose.

  “The Tower of Clarr, of course,” replied the goose. “I am, after all, the special Clarr envoy. Hermes by name. I presume you have a name, sir?”

  Having flopped down on the little cushioned window seat, Nathan tried to think, and finally made up his mind. “My names Nathan,” he said, “Nat for short. And I’m the Holder of the Knife of Clarr.” He paused, then added, “The Lord of Clarr, I suppose. And I do have a job for you after all.”

  Unfortunately, the goose appeared suspicious. “Forgive me for doubting, my lord,” he said with a very noticeable wink, “but you are rather young for the Lord of Clarr. He was a tall gentleman with muscled shoulders and arms, last time I saw him.”

  “William Octobr,” Nathan nodded. “But he died and passed the knife on to me,” and he hopped up, pulling the knife from beneath his pillow. “Look. Here it is.”

  Now that the window was unshuttered again, the moonlight beamed in, and the knife sprang to reflect the light. Suddenly the entire room was brilliant with silver, brighter than any chandelier of candles. The light glittered, seemingly alive.

  Nathan blinked, falling backwards onto the bed with a plop. The goose stood, and bowed. “Forgive me, my lord,” he said immediately. “That is indeed the Knife of Clarr, and the holder is the lord. I am honoured to serve you, sir. May I take your orders?”

  Nathan knew where Poppy’s bedroom was, being just two doors away from his own. “Can you carry two people,” he asked, “if one is small? My sister and I both wish to go to Lashtang tonight. But we both want to come back too. So one quick trip there, and then back here again. Is that possible?” Personally he rather doubted it, but thought it worth a try.

  “Easily, my gracious lord,” said the goose, “as long as you carry the knife with you. That would give power to a sparrow.”

  Imagining himself and Poppy trying to climb onto the back of a sparrow, Nathan gulped, and was glad this was a goose, and a very large one.” So wait a moment,” he said, “and I’ll get my sister.”

  Trying to be as quiet as was possible, Nathan crept from his room and into the dark passageway. Tiptoeing, hardly daring to breathe, he counted two doors along, stopped, and listened at the keyhole. He could hear a slight grunt, as of someone sleeping and not quite snoring. So he turned the handle and slipped into the room.

  “Is this your sister, sir?” asked the voice behind him, and once again Nathan jumped and whirled around.

  It was worse than he had imagined. Not only had Hermes followed him, but John and Alfie, who slept in the room between Poppy’s and Nathan’s, had been awake, had heard the footsteps and flutter of feathers, and had peeped out to see what was going on. Now they burst into Poppy’s room, and she woke up with a squeak.

  “Horrid boys,” she said rubbing her eyes, and then saw the goose and squeaked again.

  Next room along, Sam and Peter heard the noise and came running in with the kittens under their arms. The goose took one look at the kittens and squawked, flapping its wings wide. The kittens rushed from the boys’ arms and raced beneath Poppy’s bed. Sam looked first at the goose, then at everyone else, and kneeling down, began to crawl beneath the bed, calling gently for the terrified kittens.

  “Oh, goodness gracious,” said another voice from the doorway, and Alice, wrapped tight in her bedrobe, was standing wide-eyed in the doorway.

  “That’s it,” said Nathan. “I give up.”

  Poppy, still both alarmed and puzzled, stared from the goose back to Nathan. “But what did you want, Nat? And where did that thing come from?”

  “I was going to take you to Lashtang,” sighed Nathan. “And Hermes was going to take us.”

  Everyone spoke at once. “What’s Lashtang?” “Who is Hermes?” “Where did that goose come from?” “We want to come with you.” “Take us too.” Is Lashtang in the country?” and finally, “Did you get the goose for dinner?”

  Hurriedly, Nathan glared at Poppy, who had spoken of dinner. “This is Hermes,” he announced, patting the ruffled back of the goose’s feathers. “Lashtang is a magic country and that’s where I was when that Balloon carried me off. It’s where my magic knife comes from. Poppy wants to go there with me, and this very kind and courteous goose was going to take us there tonight for a very quick visit.”

  The answering silence was very brief, Then the five voices rose in unison. “Take us with you. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.”

  “Sorry,” Nathan mumbled, “but there’s no way this poor goose can take us all.”

  Hermes, who kept one eagle eye on any possible movement in the shadows under the bed, looked up at once. “Ah, but I can, my lord, I definitely can. How many passengers, my lord? Two humans per goose is the normal load, as long as the Knife of Clarr leads us through the veil. I shall call my flock.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Poppy hugged the goose. “Tell about Lashtang.”

  The goose looked down its long golden beak. “The Lord of Clarr will explain more, my lady.”

  “Humpf,” declared Poppy with a smirk towards Nathan.

  Hermes’s voice deepened, and he recited the verse Nathan had heard before, speaking slowly.

  “Over the horizon, to where the mountains soar,

  Wander Lashtang snow and ice,

  Explore the forests and the fields,

  But see your world no more.”

  Nathan sighed. “Alright. Let’s all go. It doesn’t sound very safe, but you know about it now so you might as well know the rest too. We’ll be back by morning.”

  “But we can’t take Mouse or the kittens,” said Sam with a small sniff.

  “Certainly not,” said the goose.

  The fluff balls were found and tumbled into the bedclothes, hidden beneath the eiderdown, to sleep until Mouse returned. Hermes turned away in distain, bowed his head, and hissed softly. It appeared that he was calling his flock. Within moments three other geese, each looking remarkably similar, had landed on the window sill and hopped down, splay-footed, into the room.

  “Message received,” said goose number two.

  Number three was busy grooming beneath one wing, where he seemed to have found an errant feather, while goose number four sat down with a flop, looking exhausted.

  “We have passengers,” Hermes informed them. “And are to follow a direct route for Lashtang. We follow the Knife of Clarr, and this is the Lord of Clarr, who will be flying with me.”

  There was a slight shuffle of feathered excitement.

  The four geese trotted the floorboards, ruffled their wings, nodded to each other, managed a little quick grooming, and then obediently lined up, webbed feet flapping.

  “Hurry, hurry.”

 
Alfie, being the largest, had a goose to himself, while Alice and Poppy scrambled onto the back of another. Nathan and Sam held on to Hermes’s neck as they sat astride, and John and Peter sat aboard the last one.

  “We’re off.”

  Hermes, feet to the window sill, launched himself into the dark air, and the stars scattered as though their flickering light was trapped in his feathers. He looked back over his long white neck. “Comfortable, my lord?”

  Sam sat, squeezed up to the goose’s neck, both his arms hugging tight. Nathan sat just behind him, one arm around Sam’s waist and the other holding his knife high. It was brighter than the moonlight. They soared over the uneven rooftops, the many tall chimneys, the little peaked attics with their casement windows, the thatched cottages with their tumble-down roofs and the grand houses with their pillars, tiled peaks and spreading gardens. The moon pooled its halo in a polished silver sheen, spinning rippled glitter across the river, and a thousand pearly reflections in passing windows. Way beyond the Tower the Thames wound to a dazzling twist where the estuary split into a dozen threads, each a tiny silver serpent, as a froth of mist rose up from the night’s chill.

  The geese flew in arrow formation, Nathan, Sam and Hermes at the point. So it was Nathan who first saw the veil before them, and knew they had arrived.

  The dragonflies shimmered, dithering without focus, flying like tiny stars of many colours, as beautiful as any starlight. The curtain parted, and the geese entered Lashtang.

  It was serene. The flood had drained from the land which sat bathed in dawning sunshine. The snow-tipped peaks on the distant mountains gleamed pastel pink and lilac as the sun, huge and glorious, peeped up from behind the mountain range. They had left London in the middle of a cold but peaceful night in May, but had arrived at the start of day during an eternal summer.

  Landing on the rich green of grass and shrub, the geese overshot their aim, ran a little, slid a little, slowed down a little, and stopped.

  “Well done,” said Nathan with a pat to Hermes’s neck as he hopped from the soft white back. The goose clucked with faint satisfaction.

  “Good grassy plain,” said goose number two. “Time for breakfast.”

  “I prefer wheat, said goose number four with a disappointed look at the grass.

  “And I prefer potatoes,” said goose number three with a sniff.

  Alice climbed off, kissed her goose’s nose, and thanked him. “But,” she said,” I’m afraid I have no idea what a potato is.”

  “Ludicrous,” said goose number three. “The younger generation have no proper education these days.”

  “Don’t you insult my passenger,” said goose number two, its beak in the air as it waddled off to feed.

  Hermes stood before Nathan, bowing again. “My lord, the first part of our mission is accomplished and we have delivered your noble self and your party to the plains of Lashtang. When you are ready to return, please raise your knife and call me. I and my companions will come immediately to take you home.”

  “But,” Nathan frowned, “I want to be back home by early morning.”

  “My lord,” explained the goose, “I shall arrange that. However long you wish to remain here, I will guarantee that you are back in your bedchamber by dawn. Time there does not correspond exactly to time here. Please feel free to leave whenever you wish.”

  “Useful,” muttered Nathan. “But I don’t want to stay here too long anyway. Anything could happen.” He looked up and spoke to the others, who were all grouped at his back, staring around in bemused astonishment, muttering about magical dreams. “Please don’t wander off,” Nathan told them. “We can’t stay more than a few moments.” He paused, then quickly added, “And please try not to stand on any little crawling things or animals.”

  But Poppy’s excitement was infectious. She danced, spreading out her arms and whizzing until dizzy. Alice joined her, interweaving and laughing. “It’s so exciting, like a whole new world. Look. And so warm.” Alice was still wearing her flimsy bedrobe and nothing else.

  “It is a whole new world. It’s a magic world.”

  “It’s a dream.”

  “No. It’s real.”

  Nathan sat on the grass, wondering what he would do if small frogs, beetles or other creatures approached him, but it was Poppy who approached him first. She asked, “Where’s Granny?” And, with a whispered excitement, “Where’s our parents?”

  He had no idea. “We’re not likely to see them this time around,” he said, shaking his head. “And I can’t risk staying too long. Everyone could wander off in different directions and get lost and we’d never get back together. Then even worse things could happen. I told you about the flood. We could even get killed.” He lowered his voice. “I’ll bring you again one day, just you and me, and we’ll look for our mother and father.”

  “And Granny.”

  “She may have gone home by now. But the Knife of Clarr is brilliant. It seems to do all sorts of clever things.”

  “And I liked the geese.”

  “They’ll take us home again,” explained Nathan, “as soon as I call them. So let’s just sit here a few minutes and let everyone run around and think it’s all magic, and then we’ll get the geese and fly home. I mean the medieval home, not ours. We can go back to ours afterwards.”

  Disappointment seemed to shadow the sun. “Can’t we have some fun first?” asked Poppy. “Just a very, very little, little, little time more?”

  “But,” said Nathan, and got no further.

  Having been worried about the arrival of frogs, tortoises and beetles which might start speaking and beg for a rescue which Nathan had no idea how to achieve, he was unprepared for the tiger. Mouse had been a cat of snuggles and her kittens had been adventurous delights. The tiger was none of those. Huge, elegant and ferocious, it walked, long-legged, from the rocky crest of the foothills where the mountains began.

  Everyone watched its approach, as it padded slowly from the distant stones and crevices, unhurried and head high. Its markings were almost luminous in the sun, its colours blinding, its eyes golden and black, surveying them as though curious rather than hungry.

  Nathan, although unsure, supposed this was another of the talking creatures which had once been human. He waited. The geese had disappeared. Alfie stood, watching, and carefully pushed Alice behind him as though ready to protect her. John, Sam and Peter stared with interest. Never having seen a tiger before, they now considered this creature as a cat of unusual magnificence in a country of fantasy and magic.

  It was the largest tiger Nathan had ever seen, its back legs thick muscled and its high back arched in gold. Poppy, however, whispered, “Nat, get your knife out.” And Nathan did exactly that, holding up the Knife of Clarr before him.

  The tiger, however, took no notice whatsoever. Having slowly padded to within a few feet of the group, it stopped, and with elegant majesty, sat, front paws crossed, and licked its lips. “Just as well I’m not hungry,” said the tiger.

  Heaving a sigh of relief, Nathan asked, “Excuse me, but are you one of the poor people bewitched into animals? I wish I could help, but I’m afraid I can’t. I believe my grandmother is here trying to help at the moment.”

  The tiger raised an eyebrow. “As it happens, your pity, charming though it is, seems sadly misplaced, Master Bannister. Indeed no, I am not one of those poor unfortunate souls trapped in the form of some small creature, with whom you so kindly sympathise. On the contrary, I am the power and the one who organised the trapping and changing, and with considerable pleasure arranged the delightful results.” The tiger once again licked its lips. “How do you do? I am pleased to meet all of you. I have waited some time already in the hope of meeting the Octobr heir and was, let us say, ecstatic when alerted to hear of your arrival. Waiting can be so,” and the tiger’s eyes gleamed suddenly with a sheen of menace. It opened its jaws and yawned, and the ripples of its throat glowed crimson, “tedious,” it continued, closing its mouth with a snap. “A
nd how intensely thoughtful of you to bring other humans with you, as a gift, no doubt, for me to play with. I have some creative ideas of how to transform you into shapes far more attractive. Caterpillars, maybe. A little too easily squashed, perhaps. Or would you prefer squirrels? A life of collecting nuts might seem appealing to one of little brain.” Its eyes hooded, narrowing, as it looked at each of those watching. “The slim girl – a millipede I think, with a thousand legs wriggling in desperation as the fox walks by. The dark boy – a rat, snuffling and sniffing and loathed by all, running for its life as the bear sniffs its sweat.” Into the absolute silence which followed this statement, it added, “As for your grandmother, meanwhile, she sits forlorn in the Tower of Clarr. Her mission was sadly mistimed, for I was patrolling the Clarr boundaries on her arrival.”

  “She’s in danger?” Nathan gulped.

  “By no means,” said the tiger. “She is neither in danger, nor can she be a danger to anyone else. The wretched woman is quite safe. And so am I, from her.”

  “In prison?” whispered Poppy, clinging to Nathan’s arm.

  “Naturally. The ice prison of Clarr.”

  Poppy had started to cry. Nathan kept a tight hold of the knife, and pointed it at the creature before him. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Wagster in disguise? Brewster?”

  The tiger stood, once again seeming even larger and grander than it had before. The ruff around its head was almost as wide as the mane of a lion, and its mouth opened to teeth so enormous and so sharp, they seemed like tusks. Then it opened its mouth even wider and snarled. The snarl turned to roar, and the sound vibrated until the ground shook and the echoes swirled around their heads like a vast storm of flies.

  As the last echoes faded, the tiger looked down on the quivering humans before it. “I am the mighty Emperor Clebbster’s principal warden,” it roared. “I am Yaark, the holder of the great Key of Clarr.”