Grimsdon (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

‘Dad!' Isabella held firmly onto the side of the rowboat. She could see the wave in the distance. Growing, strengthening, rolling towards them.

‘Hold on!' Isabella's dad dragged the oars through the waves, trying to get them back to shore.

The wind whipped into them, drenching their clothes and plastering Isabella's fringe against her face. Her mouth and eyes stung with the salt water. Her hands ached with the cold, red and raw. Thunder cracked all around them as bulging steel-grey clouds pelted a wall of rain into the boat.

The wave reared into the air like a breaching whale.

Water pooled around their ankles. Isabella grabbed a bucket and started bailing.

But it was no use. The sea washed over the boat. Her dad struggled to row harder. Little by little they edged towards the shore.

‘You can do it, Dad!'

He gave another fierce tug at the oars and smiled through his exhaustion. Even with the bitter cold of the rain and sea, Isabella felt warmed by it.

Then it hit. The wave blasted into the boat, spilling over them, folding them into its wake.

Isabella held her breath. There was water everywhere, tearing her off her feet, dragging her further down into the sea. The wave passed over and she was thrown upwards into the wash. She drew in a long, gasping breath and spun around, looking for her father. She saw him in the heaving swell. He reached out to her.

‘Bella!' He struggled against a second wave, which rammed into him, pulling him underneath.

‘Dad!' Isabella swam towards him, could almost reach him, but he was swamped by a final wave. ‘Dad!'

She waited for him to reappear, for the wave to let go of him, waited until...

‘Isabella?'

Isabella woke to see Griffin leaning over her, his eyebrows knotted in worry. ‘You were having another nightmare.'

‘Did I wake the kids?'

‘No, they're on the roof,' Griffin said. ‘All excited about the flight.'

‘The Haggle,' she remembered.

‘Was the nightmare about your dad again?'

She nodded. ‘Each time it's the same. I can't save him, Griffin.'

Griffin watched a tear fall down her cheek. He reached to wipe it away just as she sat up. He sunk his hands into his pockets as she ran the sleeve of her pyjamas across her eyes. ‘I better get ready.' She threw off her blankets. ‘It got a bit cold up in the air yesterday.' She rifled through her wardrobe. ‘Make sure you dress warm.'

Griffin turned to leave. ‘Will you be okay?'

‘Sure.' Her smile was infectious but, when Griffin reached the door, he snuck one last glance. Isabella was staring into the mirror, her smile gone. She wiped her eyes again. Xavier walked around the Aerotrope, finishing his final checks before climbing on. ‘All aboard the Haggle Express.'

Isabella slipped her arms through her life jacket and settled onto the seat behind him.

‘Are you sure there's not room for one more?' Raffy pleaded. ‘Look how little I am.'

‘Not this time, Raf.' Isabella buckled the strap of her helmet. ‘Don't worry, you'll be flying before we know it.'

‘Are you sure it can take three of us?' Griffin kept getting tangled in the straps of his life jacket.

Xavier waved his hand. ‘You worry too much, Griffy.'

‘Just because he doesn't worry about
anything,'
Griffin mumbled.

Fly helped untangle the jacket and clipped the strap around his waist. She gave him the thumbs-up.

‘Thanks, Fly.' He stood still. All eyes focused on him.

‘Um ... ready, Griff?' Xavier asked.

‘Sure.' Griffin gave another tug on his already over-tight straps and clicked on a bicycle helmet. ‘Where do I sit?'

‘In the cargo box. Your legs can hang over the side.'

‘Is that safe?'

‘Depends if you decide to jump out halfway.' Xavier smirked.

Each time Griffin tried to step inside, his jacket jammed into his face until he worked out a way to twist his body and thread himself into the cargo box.

Xavier pulled on his leather goggles and began pedalling. The wings on either side of them lurched to life. A small whimper escaped from Griffin's lips.

Xavier released the small pair of wings on the back wheels. He kicked back the safety stand and, with a few small bounces, the Aerotrope was teetering across the roof.

Griffin's head felt light. His breaths were short and his heart jolted in his chest. ‘Wait! I have to–'

But before he could finish the Aerotrope lifted over the edge of the rooftop and fell from view.

A strangled cry wrenched at the air.

Fly, Bea and Raffy rushed over in time to see the flying machine catch a strong updraft and loop skyward. The wind buffeted the Aerotrope so that it swung up and down like a horse on a merry-go-round. Xavier gave a cowboy yell while Griffin groaned and shut his eyes tight.

The sun was only just managing to peek through small breaks in the clouds. It sparkled off waterways, windows and the ironwork facades of Grimsdon.

‘There's the Queen's castle.' Isabella pointed at the ragged crenulations of the castle wall. She turned to see Griffin, his face scrunched into a grimace. ‘Griffin, you're missing everything.'

‘I'm okay with that.' He kept his eyes shut. ‘Just let me know when we're there.'

The city opened up beneath them. Pointed towers, smaller, barely visible buildings and the top half of a giant Ferris wheel, all swirled by the floodwaters.

The Aerotrope dropped suddenly. Griffin screamed as it tipped sideways, faltering through the air until Xavier finally gained control and eased it back to a smooth flight.

‘Sorry about that,' Xavier cried. ‘Air pocket.'

Griffin hunched into a ball. ‘Why did I ever agree–'

‘Griffin, you have to see this,' Isabella called over her shoulder.

His hands clung onto the sides of the cargo box. He took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes, which widened at the sight of the river far below them. His body slumped and his grip loosened. ‘I think I'm going to be sick.'

‘Don't look down,' Xavier shouted. ‘Not till you get used to it. Look left.'

Griffin's head wobbled to the side, to see the rising majesty of the clock tower. ‘Parliament House?' he whispered.

‘That's not the best part.'

Griffin followed Isabella's pointed finger to the nest lodged inside the arches of the belltower. ‘Robins.' He watched as the mother held a worm in her beak and the babies clambered to reach it.

‘She must have flown a long way to find that.' Griffin momentarily forgot his fear.

‘Hold on,' Xavier cried. ‘We're going in for a landing.'

He steered the Aerotrope downwards into a sweeping circle.

‘Oh!' Griffin shut his eyes again and felt his stomach heave.

The Aerotrope approached the roof, the wings tilted and the tail pitched down. It lurched back and forth, listing like a foundering ship, until it hit with a hard bounce. Griffin's glasses flung forward and his head collided with Isabella's back. Xavier squeezed the brakes as the machine ricocheted back into the air, swaying momentarily before thudding to an abrupt stop.

Xavier pulled his goggles down around his neck. ‘Welcome to the Haggle.'

‘You couldn't manage a more graceful landing?' Griffin straightened his glasses and rubbed his forehead.

‘It
was
a little bumpy.' Xavier dragged a chain through the wheels and around a flagpole before padlocking it. ‘But we're here, aren't we?'

‘Just.' Griffin stumbled off the machine. ‘Why are you locking it up?'

‘Don't get me wrong,' Xavier said. ‘I like these guys, but I wouldn't trust them.'

‘Great.' Griffin tried to unclip his bike helmet, but his fingers were stiff from gripping the cargo box so hard. ‘He's brought us to meet people he doesn't trust.'

‘The Haggle is in Parliament House?' Isabella asked.

‘The
old
Parliament House. I'm assuming there's a new one somewhere a little drier.'

Xavier led them to a door where a crudely painted knife dripping red blotches sat, alongside the words:

Griffin gulped.

‘They're just kidding.' Xavier waved his hand dismissively and opened the door onto a dim stairwell.

‘Do you think they'll let us in?' Griffin's voice echoed.

‘If you've brought something useful.'

‘We have.' Griffin gripped the handrail. ‘Who do we give it to?'

‘Raven. He runs the place.' Xavier ruffled Griffin's hair. ‘Don't worry so much.'

‘I'm not worried.' Griffin tried not to look worried until something scuttled over his shoe. ‘What was that?'

At the bottom of the stairs, Xavier opened a door onto an antechamber. ‘Welcome to Parliament House.'

The walls, painted in sombre browns and greens, were jammed with stuffy portraits of men in collars and ruffs, wearing strained smiles that looked as if they were sitting on chairs lined with pins.

A set of doors opened onto a bigger room, its walls muddled with even more gloomy portraits, these ones graffitied with glasses, moustaches and wild hair. They stood on a floor painted with scenes of great battles: guns waved victoriously; cannons firing on enemy ships, sinking them in a blaze of fire and billows of smoke. Great and mighty scenes now scratched and dusty and obscured by crumpled blankets, mattresses and mismatched furniture.

‘Some of the country's greatest artists created this, thinking it'd be here forever. But it's rubbish now, isn't it?' Xavier scuffed his boot across the hull of a sinking ship.

‘Where is everyone?' Isabella asked.

‘I'll show you.' Xavier approached a towering door and tapped out what seemed to be a special code. A rattle of locks and bolts echoed from inside and two small boys dragged the door open slightly. They nodded at Xavier but shot glares at Griffin and Isabella.

‘They're friends of mine.'

The boys swapped cautious looks before opening the door wider and stepping aside.

Xavier led the way into an enormous hall crammed with tables heaving with old appliances, tins of food, tools and toys.

And there were kids everywhere. Talking, laughing, riding skateboards and kicking footballs. Some were breaking up furniture and throwing the pieces into fire drums dotted around the room.

‘Where did they all come from?' Griffin asked.

‘Same place we did. Some were left behind, others abandoned, some chose to be here.'

A group of boys playing cards waved at Xavier. He waved back.

‘And their parents?' Isabella asked.

‘Some kids still have them somewhere, others don't, and the rest figure they're better off without them.'

There were brief interested glances as they walked through the hall.

‘I'll trade this axe for your scooter.' A boy held out a hatchet.

A smaller boy scratched his chin. ‘Throw in that crowbar and you've got a deal.'

They spat on their hands, shook and did the swap.

Griffin stopped at a large sheet of material pinned to the wall and covered in writing. ‘What's this?'

‘The Code – rules you have to obey if you want to stay.'

Griffin read out loud: ‘A deal made is a deal in stone. A fight won fairly is a fight won. No theft among traders. All unresolved disputes will be settled by Raven.'

‘Which it looks like he's doing now.' Xavier nodded towards a tall, thin boy in a long, oversized coat. He had vampirish white skin and black hair that fell across his eyes. Two young boys stood before him in an area cluttered with lounges. One had a cut lip, the other had scratch marks across his face.

Raven spoke. The boys nodded. One wiped his nose with his sleeve. They shook hands and slunk away.

Raven stretched his feet out on an old table and began polishing a sword.

‘Don't say anything that's going to upset him,' Xavier said.

‘Like what?' Griffin asked.

‘You know. Upsetting things. Wait here until I call you over.'

Raven slid the sword into its scabbard. He and Xavier exchanged an elaborate handshake where they clicked fingers, linked arms and bumped chests. They sat opposite each other. Raven's eyes trained on the newcomers. Griffin shifted under his gaze.

‘How well do you know them?'

‘Pretty well. They're good kids.'

A few boys looked up from nearby tables before losing interest.

‘Why should I let them in?'

‘Because they're friends of mine.' He turned his back on Isabella and slipped a small engraved knife with a curved golden handle from his pocket. ‘And because I'll give you this.'

Raven turned it in his hands. ‘What else have you got?'

Xavier patted his coat pockets. ‘Nothing on me right now, but–'

Raven held up the knife. ‘Last new kid we let in left Fergus with a broken arm.' He nodded towards a boy with his crudely bandaged arm in a sling. ‘How do I know they won't cause trouble too?'

Xavier snapped into a broad smile. ‘They won't, I promise, in fact I–'

‘What's the hold-up?' Isabella marched over, arms crossed. Griffin was a few steps behind her.

Raven's eyes zeroed in on Isabella's. ‘I was deciding whether to let you in.'

‘And I was explaining why he should,' Xavier said. ‘And that–'

Isabella cut through. ‘Xavier said we could enter the Haggle by bringing something useful.'

Raven sank back into his lounge. ‘And you think you have something I want?'

Isabella offered the smallest of smiles. ‘I know I do. Griffin?'

Griffin reached into his coat pocket and held out a cube, covered on each side with a reflective surface.

‘What is it?' Xavier asked.

‘It's an energy pack,' Griffin explained. ‘It stores energy created by wind, water and the sun that can be used to create light or heat. All you have to do is–'