‘I agree,’ Fletcher said, joining the argument. He jabbed a finger into the Boatswain’s face. ‘We have to take the fastest route!’
The Boatswain knocked Fletcher’s hand away.
‘Don’t touch me!’ Fletcher yelled. It was like a spark to kindling. The whole ship exploded into a fire of passion. The pent-up fear and anger that had simmered for weeks erupted into a full-blown argument. The Boatswain, Freddo and Fletcher surrounded the map, hollering at one another. The fire spread as arguments broke out between Nib and Rufina, Alfa and Sparks. The ship was engulfed in an inferno of pointing, thumping and shouting. Knot covered his ears and began to moan.
In the chaos, Mr Snooze backed away. He looked ghost-like in his nightgown. Reaching the edge of the ship, he turned. The sight that greeted him was overwhelming. He gripped the ship’s rail, his legs almost buckling. Around the Black Horizon, the ocean sparkled with a million points of light. It was the most beautiful thing Mr Snooze had ever seen. The hubbub behind him muffled. He stared across the water, unsure where the ocean ended and the star-strewn sky began. All around, flecks glinted green and blue, violet and amber. The sea was shining. Mr Snooze could see the depth of the water, plunging down, the aurora stretching, deep as a mountain beneath him. Unable to cope with the sight, he looked up. Above, the sky exploded with starlight. Mr Snooze was overwhelmed with a sense of his own smallness. The ship he trusted was just a speck on a vast ocean, this moment just surf on a boundless wave, rolling through the universe.
‘Look,’ he gasped.
There was a gentle tinkling coming from the lights. It was barely audible above the fight. It was otherworldly, delicate and rich. The old man’s heart leapt, as stories danced to life in his imagination. They made him want to dive into the sea, to become one with the lights. And yet, at the same time, the music was sad, weaved through with loss.
‘Listen,’ he said, stumbling backwards. Around him, the ship broiled with the quarrel.
‘Listen,’ the old man repeated. He staggered into the centre of the circle. ‘Listen. Listen!’ He grabbed the Dark Pirate’s arm. The pirate swung round, mid-rant, his fist raised as if to strike Mr Snooze. The old man cowered. Realising what he was about to do, the Dark Pirate stepped back, shaken. His hand fell to his side and he collapsed onto one of the hatches, breathing heavily.
Becoming aware of what had happened, the rest of the crew fell still.
Mr Snooze looked at them, wide-eyed. ‘Listen.’
The crew looked at one another, unsure what the moon-faced man meant.
‘The sea – the sea is singing.’
Sure enough, over the slap of the waves, Alfa became aware of a mysterious hum that hung in the night. Slowly, the crew moved to the side of the ship and looked out.
‘Woah,’ Rufina said.
The sea was ablaze.
‘What’s happening?’ Sparks asked.
The Dark Pirate closed his eyes for a moment. ‘They are the Fable Fish,’ he whispered. He didn’t often sound shaken, but Alfa could tell that even he was taken aback by the glowing ocean. ‘But … this is the biggest shoal I’ve ever seen. This must be the whole of the Fable Fish population … all in one place. It’s … it’s unheard of.’
Scoop stared into the water. She could see the outline of one of the fish, just below the surface. Its scales shimmered. Suddenly, the fish leapt out of the sea, rainbow colours flashing through the air. ‘Look!’ She pointed.
One by one the fish began to jump. The ocean around the ship began to fizz, stirred by the display.
As the fish leapt, the music grew louder.
‘I think they’re singing,’ Mr Snooze whispered.
The Dark Pirate nodded.
Mr Snooze closed his eyes. He could see the song. It formed pictures in his mind, made words flow through him.
As the fish leapt, the music swelled. Slowly, Mr Snooze began to speak.
‘Moonlight wanes,
Starlight falls,
The world begins to fade.
Rainbows dim,
The Great Light ebbs,
The world begins to fade.
Last song of the Fable Fish,
Last song of the Fable Fish,
Swimming to other shores.
Last song of the Fable Fish,
Swimming to the world beyond.’
‘Look.’ The Boatswain pointed. ‘That fish, it just disappeared.’
Scoop watched as around them the lights began to dim, dissolving into the sea.
‘They’re fading,’ Rufina whispered, her voice faltering. Scoop knew why. The spectacle was heart-breaking.
‘The last song of the Fable Fish,’ Mr Snooze said again.
‘They’re saying goodbye,’ the Dark Pirate said. ‘We’re witnessing the passing of a whole species.’
‘But they can’t,’ Sparks whispered. ‘They’re the Fable Fish. They’ve always been here. We learnt about them at the Academy. They’re part of this world.’
They watched as light by light, glimmer by glimmer, the sea began to darken. Nobody spoke. This was a sacred moment.
‘It’s a song that signals the end of all things,’ the Dark Pirate whispered. ‘Our world is beginning to fade.’
The Boatswain looked at him, his eyes red. He laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ he said. ‘We cannot delay any longer than absolutely necessary. We must take our chances on the Basillica Isles.’
The crew nodded in agreement, their hearts one. They watched, as slowly the sea fell still, the final song of the Fable Fish dissolving into the moonlit waves.
Chapter 5
The Time Terminator
Wisdom grabbed Christopher’s arm and yanked him into a narrow alley at the back of Mr Snooze’s Bedtime Story Slumber Shop. They were in the village of Bardbridge. Felda stood behind her, already concealed. The windows of the little cottage were shuttered, the air around the shop, usually rich with incense, was cold and still. Christopher opened his mouth to object, but Wisdom held a finger to her lips and pointed at the cobbled street beyond the alleyway. A squadron of Red Hawks ran into view, heading towards the Three Towers.
‘She’s called the entire fleet to gather at the Scythe,’ one of them said.
‘I heard they found her floating in the ocean, yelling into the mist,’ another replied. ‘She was alone on the boat.’
‘Mad old witch. She’s lost her grip on this place good and proper. Captain says we’ll be back on the Basillica Isles before the week’s out.’
‘Better had, I’m sick of this place.’
The sound of boots faded.
The Guardians knew who the Red Hawks were talking about. ‘Grizelda,’ Felda whispered.
‘Must be,’ Wisdom said. ‘Come on, let’s follow them.’
‘Follow them? But if we get caught––’
‘They’re not looking for us,’ Christopher interrupted. ‘Did you see the squadrons we passed on the way? They’re in disarray – uniforms dishevelled, arguments in the ranks; I saw a fight break out in one of the brigades. The captain didn’t even pull them into line, he just joined the rabble, baying for blood. It’s anarchy out there. I think we could walk straight up Bridge Road and nobody would bat an eye.’
‘And,’ Wisdom added, ‘we have to go that way to get to the Central Chasm. We may as well see if there’s any information we can glean along the way. If the whole fleet has been summoned, it must be important.’
Felda looked unsure, but nodded.
The three Guardians slipped onto the street, the sign above Mr Snooze’s shop swaying in the wind. Keeping close to the edge of the road, they began to move from door to door, following the soldiers.
* * *
A chaotic scene greeted them when they reached the little square that hugged the base of the Three Towers. They watched from a covered snicket, peering out from a low door that opened onto the square. On their way, they’d grabbed cloaks from the baskets outside Dénouement’s Disguise
Emporium and now looked like forest travellers.
The plaza was packed with Red Hawks, shouting, laughing, gambling and trading. A large group of soldiers had just tumbled out of the Wild Guffaw, swigging tankards of Fool’s Paradise. Another group had set up a green baize-covered table, now scattered with playing cards. Other soldiers were trading arms. In the centre of the square, two beefy Red Hawks strained to hold Baskervilles back, their leads taut as the beasts clawed the ground, spoiling for a fight. Around them, a battalion egged the dogs on, whooping and clapping as the creatures bared their teeth.
Christopher looked up at the turrets of rock that rose from the tiny square. They had always struck him as being at odds with the gentle valley in which Bardbridge nestled. Over the years, the inside of the towers had been hollowed out, creating a labyrinth of tunnels and rooms that now housed the heart of Blotting’s Academy – the place where all Story Characters trained. Between the two closest turrets, the Giant and the Scythe, a path led to the Central Chasm. But it was at the other side of the square, beyond the sea of Red Hawks.
‘That’s the way,’ Christopher said, ‘but we can’t get through this crowd now. We’ll just have to wait and watch until our chance comes.’
As he was speaking, Wisdom noticed a large flock of crows. They were perched on the ledges of the Scythe. Every so often, a crow would dive, disappearing behind the Red Hawks, before emerging again, flapping and cawing.
Wisdom caught sight of what looked like a stump of rock covered in black hessian, standing on the steps of the Scythe.
‘Look,’ she said, pointing at the strange shape. As she did, two eyes appeared beneath the folds of the fabric.
‘Grizelda!’ Felda whispered.
‘Yes. My sister always knew how to glare.’
Christopher shook his head. ‘Those soldiers don’t know what’s about to hit them.’
The Guardians studied the old woman. She stood, stock still, glaring at a troop of Red Hawks to her side. They were pulling a rope attached to a wire that had been fixed between two of the towers. The rope ran through a pulley, back to the ground.
Whatever’s on the other end of that rope is the focus of the crows’ attention, Wisdom thought.
She could hear the squeak of the wheel. There was another sound too. It was muffled, but it sounded like someone crying out in pain. And it was perfectly synchronised with the diving crows.
Felda gripped Wisdom’s arm. ‘There’s somebody there.’
Wisdom watched as a booted foot came into view above the Red Hawks. Somebody was being hoist into the air.
A crow flew past and there was another cry of pain.
The soldiers nearest the Scythe turned to watch. Slowly, a wave of hush rolled across the square. Red Hawks froze, tankards in hand, playing cards half-dealt and muskets mid-trade. The Baskervilles retreated to their masters’ legs, whining.
Slowly the man was hoist higher, dangling by his foot. He was a Red Hawk sergeant, his scarlet coat hanging behind his head. He had been bound and gagged. His free leg thrashed, making him spin on the rope. As he did, Grizelda’s crows dived, pecking at his face. Christopher watched in horror as one of them tore a little clump of flesh from his cheek. The man screamed through his gag. Blood dripped from his forehead, forming a little pool of red on the cobblestones below.
‘Well, that seems to have got yer attention now, don’t it?’ Grizelda said, the rasp of her voice carrying across the square. ‘Now, it seems some of you, including our friend here, are under the misapprehension I’m not in charge anymore. You’ve got it into yer tiny little brains that I’ve lost it.’ She spat the words, jabbing her temple. ‘Now, it might seem like I’m immune to such remarks – Grizelda the thick-skinned you might have heard me called. It might seem like such nasty little lies wouldn’t touch my poor old heart, but I’d like to make it clear to you that such talk is –’ the old woman sniffed – ‘upsettin’. You hear what I’m sayin’?’
The Red Hawks nearest the Scythe recoiled, as one of the crows plunged its beak into the hanging man’s eye. His body shook with the impact.
Grizelda didn’t pay any attention. ‘Now, I believe this little misunderstandin’ has been a … slip, shall we call it, a stumble in an otherwise quite fruitful relationship. I know it’s never been your intention to upset me, has it?’ A flurry of crows dived, beaks and claws tearing the hanging man’s flesh, until his body fell still, his breathing barely visible. The Red Hawks shook their heads.
The crows quietened, some feeding, others returning to the towers with clumps of meat.
‘Good,’ the old woman purred. ‘Well, I’m glad we’ve got that bit of nastiness out the way. So, I take it you’ll all be going back to your duties like good little boys?’
The Red Hawks nodded.
‘Well, that show of respect lifts a poor old woman’s heart,’ Grizelda said. ‘That’s yer good deed for the day, right there. And it’s just as well, because there are bodies in there that still need guarding.’ She pointed to the Scythe. ‘I’ve still got floors of sleeping islanders under the curse of the sickness …’
The old woman carried on speaking, but a commotion had broken out at the other side of the square, among the soldiers nearest the Giant. They were moving backwards, away from the tower, pushing into those behind them, causing scuffles in the ranks. Wisdom peered at them.
What’s going on?
They seemed to be reacting to something just out of view, something between the towers.
Grizelda had noticed the disturbance too. ‘Oh, you poor pussycats. I’m not that scary now, am I?’
A few of the soldiers broke into a run.
‘Where d’ya think yer goin’?’ Grizelda cried. ‘I’m not finished talkin’ to yer yet!’
But her words had no effect. A wave of chaos broke across the square. It spilled from those nearest the Giant, fanning out. Soldiers started to run, pushing past each other, panic on their faces.
Grizelda yelled over the noise, ‘I’ll have you up there like him!’ But the soldiers weren’t listening. ‘Come back! Come back here, immediately!’ She continued to scream, but her voice was swallowed by the ruckus.
‘Now’s the time,’ Christopher said. Before Felda or Wisdom could reply, he plunged into the crowd, pushing in the opposite direction.
‘Oh my,’ Felda said, as Wisdom followed. Taking a deep breath, she ran after them, scared to lose sight of her friends. The heat of the crowd was stifling, soldiers thumped into her as she pushed past them. Felda kept her eyes trained on Wisdom, flashes of her green tunic in the sea of red.
What could be scarier than the old woman? Her mind was racing. What on earth are they running from?
Then she saw it. A leg, as tall as a ship’s mast, poking out from the gap between the towers. It was leathery and black and covered in thick hair. It wrapped around the Giant, clinging to the rock. Slowly, it stole around the edge of the tower, its spindly claw twitching. Other legs appeared. They rose and fell in staccato beats, crossing silently, feeling out clefts in the rock. The creature’s body slid out, hovering. Its abdomen was a bulbous black sack. Four great eyes filled its head. The beast ticked as it moved. Each high-pitched strike sent a shudder through Felda. She wanted to join the soldiers and run. But ahead, she could see Wisdom and Christopher – they were sprinting towards the monster.
The beast stopped, utterly still, straddling the gap between the towers, its pincers swaying. Below, the last of the Red Hawks scattered.
Grizelda had advanced up the stairs of the Scythe, her back pressed against the rock. She was surveying the great spider with a mix of rage and grudging respect.
Christopher stopped.
‘How are we going to get past it?’ Wisdom panted as she caught up to him.
‘I’m not sure.’
Felda joined the others. ‘What on earth is it?’
‘If I’m not much mistaken,’ Christopher said, ‘it’s a Gigan Tick – a Time Terminator.’
Wisdo
m and Felda exchanged a dark look.
‘I know,’ Christopher said. ‘That’s why we have to get to the Central Chasm. If it is what I think it is …’
Before he could finish speaking, the giant spider sprang forward, its pincers ticking.
Christopher grabbed Felda, the three Guardians jumping backwards. To their side, Grizelda edged higher up the steps of the Scythe.
The great arachnid made for the Red Hawk hanging from the rope. It reared up, its front legs landing on the wire. The soldier’s body bounced as the spider slipped, but in a matter of seconds it had secured its position. It lifted its head, its hairy underbelly exposed. Felda gasped. There was a thick fang beneath it. She turned away, burying her head into Christopher’s chest. There was a sickening thud as the creature punctured the Red Hawk’s chest. With lightning speed, the spider closed its legs around its prey. Swinging from the rope, it began to turn the body. Thread flowed from its abdomen, wrapping the man in a white cocoon.
‘Quickly, now!’ Christopher hissed. ‘While it’s distracted.’
The Guardians dashed forward, heading for the gap between the towers. Felda’s stomach turned as she glanced at the spider. The Red Hawk’s body was now encased in a thick substance, sticky with venom. The spider finished wrapping the body and climbed up to the wire to guard its prey.
The Guardians slipped between the Giant and the Scythe, entering the dark space between the three towers. The Central Chasm opened before them, a large pit that plunged into darkness. They reached the edge of the hole and stopped, their breathing heavy.
‘Now,’ Christopher said, ‘we listen.’
Felda waited, trying to push thoughts of the giant spider from her mind. She needed to listen. It was a Guardian’s job to listen to the Well Whisper, to sense its rhythm, its sighs, to follow its lead. Usually, it was an instinctive task. The Well Whisper was always present. It flowed from the Central Chasm across the island, out across the Oceans of Rhyme. Listening to its call was like breathing, vital but unthinking. To come to the Central Chasm itself was a different matter. Felda had only stood here twice in her life – the first time had been to accept her Guardianship. This was the second.
The Firebird Chronicles Page 3