The Queen and the Nobody Boy (17 page)

The little Queen rubbed her face and eased her arms after the hours sitting tied up.

“Quick,” Hodie whispered.

“Hurry quietly,” Murgott added. He held a pair of small pink slippers in his hand, and the little Queen's bag.

From the staffroom, Hodie heard the clattering of cups into a sink, and grumbles about whose turn it was to rinse the dishes.

But Sibilla tipped her head as if she was listening to something else, and a new look came into her eyes. She stepped to the door and across the corridor. She put her hands on a strong iron door, drew a breath and rolled it open. Hodie ran to see. Murgott was behind him, keeping guard.

The room was nearly all cage. Inside was the huddle of silver, the curve of a great beak, the movement of shallow breathing from a great feather-scaled chest. It was the dragon-eagle, brought down from the Zoo.

The creature raised its head and looked at Sibilla. Something began to ring in Hodie's ears.

~
Your Majesty
~ a silver whisper said ~
Please go
~

Sibilla stretched a hand towards it.

~
My companion
is dying
~ came the chime of silver ~
Find my companion. Only then can you and the King rescue me
~ The creature's coronet of feathers was a dim flicker of silver and green ~
My wing is broken
~

“How … what shall I do?” Sibilla whispered.

~
Courage first
~ said the dragon-eagle ~
Magic later
~

The great eye looked right at Hodie ~
Release the wind
~

The eye closed and the great head lowered.

Hodie's ears rang with a silvery echo. His whole being seemed to shiver.

Murgott pulled him and the Queen back into the corridor, and rolled the door shut. Ears still ringing, Hodie hauled Sibilla into a gap between stacks of cages. She fumbled into the pink slippers. Murgott wriggled under his cloak to shuck off his jacket. He helped the little Queen into it over her dressing gown – it was masses too big, but he rolled the cuffs up, stuffed her hair down into the jacket collar and fastened the buttons at her neck. “Hope to blazes that'll hold it,” he muttered, and slung her bag over her shoulder.

They sidled for the stairwell. In another room, Hodie saw the scruffy squirrel patting the locks of cage after cage. The doors fell open. A guinea pig scuttled out and off down to the staffroom. A rabbit followed.

There was a yell. The bustle of scientists rushed about. Crockery smashed, and there were scientific curses. The guinea pig hurtled out and disappeared along the corridor. A scientist chased after it and bumped into Murgott.

Murgott pointed to an open door across the hall. “It went that way!”

The scientist ran in. Murgott slammed the door and turned a lock. Scientists came scrambling from the staffroom on hands and knees after rabbits, frogs, mice, pink salamanders.

Hodie, the Queen and Murgott started to run. Whiffs of heat filled the corridor. But Hodie knew that now there was a chance they might escape.
Release the wind
, the silver voice had said. Of course. Hodie knew about wind. But they'd have to climb as high as possible. They must jam open all the doors between the levels of the cavern city.

They made it to the door into the square without being stopped. Hodie would have to loosen a nut so the door would jam open. He thrust a hand into his satchel and into the bag. The spindly spanner fitted into his palm.

They rushed up to the next level and the next. With the spanner Hodie managed to jam the doors open each time. Heat from the lower levels rose and rose behind them, almost unbearable. Up they climbed from the square, up three more levels. Everywhere, the people they passed were puffing and fanning themselves. Most of the women and girls wore silly shoes, and nobody questioned the little Queen's pink slippers. The effort of climbing turned Murgott's face purple. Sibilla's face was patchy red. Hodie's lungs hurt. The heat pushed and shoved behind them. At last they saw Allana and Dardy waiting outside the door to the main wind-garage.

“Is that the …?” Allana immediately gritted her jaw as if she was a mother with a sulky daughter, then hugged Queen Sibilla to her side and threw her own light cloak over Sibilla's head. Sibilla stuck her chin out and slumped her shoulders. Any passers-by quickly looked in another direction because sulkiness is extremely unattractive.

Hodie used the spanner on the bolts of the wind-garage door so it couldn't be opened without tools from either side. “Now, up,” he gasped. “Further up.” His idea – the dragon-eagle's idea – might not work, but Hodie trusted the map O'sel had drawn.

“There's a faster way,” Allana gasped. “The Emperor has a special lift pulled by ogres …”

“We have to do it this way,” Hodie puffed back.

Up they climbed, up. Dardy stumbled, pale as paper. Murgott half-carried him. The stairs narrowed. Sirens began to shriek, along with an announcement from loudspeakers: “Fontanians on loose! Catch all Fontanians!”

Luckily they were above the crowds by now. They kept climbing in the rising heat – squirrel too – and finally came to the top level. No sirens blared here, so that was more luck. Hodie slipped the spanner back into the bag safe within his satchel.

There were two doors. One, marked with a small sunburst, was for the Emperor's lift. The other showed a huge sunburst. In front of it sat two guards at a little table. One hummed the latest hit. The other was cleaning his thumbnail with his bayonet. Hodie's heart began to fall.

Panting with exertion, Sibilla nodded to the guards. “Thank you,” she said, though the guards had done nothing. “Let us in, by royal command.”

The guards scrambled to their feet, slightly puzzled.

“Fontanians?” said the one with half-clean fingernails.

“Of course not, we're Um'binnian,” said Lady Allana. “You can tell. Look at our footwear.”

“School trip with best friend of Princessa.” Murgott wiped his forehead on his sleeve. “Boy – girl – writin' essay. School. Silly children, project nearly overdue, you know how it is.”

The guards chuckled, opened the door and let them through.

Inside there was only one wind-car. Though it was small (a real surprise!), its roof was adorned with twirls of gold. And there, directly opposite where Hodie stood, was the exit to the outside, a closed slab of marble.

Hodie shut the door back into the stairwell as swiftly as possible. He grabbed a pair of pliers from a handy rack (there was always such a rack in any garage) and placed it near the door so he could wedge it open at the right time.

The squirrel wheezed to show how difficult and long the climb had been. Hodie's mother crouched to gain her breath. Dardy looked especially faint.

“Into the wind-car,” Hodie gasped.

Dardy's chest heaved, but he staggered with Sibilla into the wind-car. Allana stumbled after them. Hodie and Murgott clambered in too. The seats were gold and twirly, one brighter and more twirly than the others (no prize for guessing whose). Little cabinets with gold doors lined the rear. The wind-car's walls glittered with mirrors, reflections of purple and gold.

“Dardy, do you know how to start the engine?” Hodie asked.

Dardy shook his head.

Hodie turned to Murgott. “You watched Lu'nedda with the sails, when she was Ogg'ward. Show Dardy, quick.”

The Corporal chewed his lip and shook his head.

Hodie had got them this far and they wanted to give up! He'd had one night – just one night – living like a lord, and now everything was for nothing. Self-pity and frustration began to choke in Hodie's chest. Of course there was no such thing as marvellous magic! If there were, it would be here to help the Queen! The squirrel gave an angry chitter and nipped his boot.

“All right.” Hodie jabbed Dardy with a finger. “You taught me all I know about how things work – these controls can't be difficult. The engine would probably have helped, but I hope we don't need it. Now listen. When the slab to the outside is fully open, I'm going to jam open the door into the stairwell. Air will rush up from inside the mountain – it should lift the wind-car up and send it well out. All we have to do is get enough height to glide over the Moat.”

With a little more colour in his face, Dardy examined the controls.

“Your Majesty and my mother,” Hodie continued. “Just sit and hang on tight.”

Allana grabbed Sibilla by the hand. Hodie felt a flicker of jealousy, but the plan was moving on.

Sibilla's eyes shone. “What about you?”

“When Murgott and I have got the slab open, Murgott leaps in and helps Dardy. Then I jam open the door and hope the guards don't catch me. I'll jump in at the last moment.”

Hodie checked the satchel was firm on his back, nodded just like a soldier to Murgott, and Murgott signalled back (just like a Corporal). Then the two of them raced over to the marble slab. The Corporal heaved a lever. Slowly the slab began to roll … there was the dazzle of sky …

A yell rang out behind the inner door, and it flung wide open. Hot air from deep inside Um'Binnia began to rush into the cavern much too soon.

“What's going on? Close exit at once!” It was Commander Gree'sle, pistol drawn, Prowdd'on behind him, and Princessa Lu'nedda in a bright pink dress with matching handbag and slippers with rubies. She clutched a hand over her mouth.

“Dardy! Steady the wind-car!” Hodie yelled.

“Stop criminal Fontanian!” roared Prowdd'on.

The guards rushed in behind the Emperor.

Warning bells began to ring, but the slab continued to roll open. Murgott wedged his Um'Binnian hat behind the lever to hold it down, ran to the wind-car and dived in.

Gree'sle sprinted and caught Hodie's wrist. Hodie tugged to free himself, but the Commander's skinny hand was strong as iron.

“Hodie!” Dardy plunged out of the wind-car and staggered down onto his knees.

Gree'sle's pistol aimed at Dardy. Hodie kicked and spoiled the shot. The Commander wrestled Hodie along the floor, but Hodie managed to steer him towards the pliers. He scooped them up and whacked the back of Gree'sle's knee. The Commander buckled. Dardy recovered his footing and helped Hodie pull free. They leapt past the guards, back into the wind-car.

Murgott was struggling with the controls. “Dardy,” he cried, “give me a hand!”

“Hurry!” cried Hodie. The hot blast would only last another moment.

The wind-car bucked, lifted, and bounced on the cavern floor. Hodie glanced up through the window – its sails were spread.

But a guard was scrambling in. Murgott raised a boot and pushed him out. The wind-car rose, then dropped again.

“We're too heavy!” Murgott cried. “Ditch the ballast!”

Dardy looked at Lady Allana and the Queen. He let go the controls, gave Lady Allana a salute, and jumped from the wind-car. A guard was on him at once with the flash of a sword. Dardy was flung down like an old cloak.

“No!” screamed Allana.

She leaned too close to the door. The second guard reached in and dragged her out in the jangling of the warning bells.

The wind-car quivered on the brink. It must still be too heavy …

“Take the controls, Hodie!” Murgott cried. “Save the Queen!”

Murgott leaped out.

Only Hodie and Sibilla were left in the wind-car. Which lever would save her? This one? That? The wind-car still teetered.

“Hodie!” cried his mother's voice. “Go! Now!”

A fresh group of guards rushed in and ran for the wind-car. Somebody thrust between them, landed in the aisle and slammed the door. It was Lu'nedda. She grabbed the controls and the engine roared. With a jerk, the royal wind-car soared into the air …

The engine spluttered. Lu'nedda cursed. The wind-car began falling. Hodie tumbled, tumbled again. He saw his reflection in many mirrors – a hundred Hodies, a hundred royal wind-cars, falling, falling.

~

The wind-car bumped against the cliff, bumped again and rested, rocking, swaying. Hodie was jammed under a seat. Towards the rear, the little Queen was on the floor too, white knuckles gripping the base of the golden throne. He couldn't see the Princessa from where he was. Had she tried to save them? Did she know by now the bag was gone from her apartment? Maybe she thought she'd captured them.

Lu'nedda let out a low groan, up at the controls. “No Toad Oil. I ruin engine.”

The wind-car lurched. Hodie felt the wind swirl and catch the sails. He saw a flash of rock, then sky –
This is luck
, he thought,
we don't need magic
…

But the moment of limping flight turned into a spinning plummet, another terrible long fall.

The bottom of the wind-car thumped again – branches scraped past, cracking and tearing in the rustle of a million leaves. More bumps – more tearing and scraping – a branch smashed through one window and speared through another on the opposite side. The wind-car hung, suspended. Hodie and the Queen were still flat under the seats. But Hodie could see a way out.

The branch wasn't thick, and wouldn't hold for long. With great care, he edged backwards, avoiding broken glass as best as he could. His Um'Binnian cloak was some protection. Each time the wind-car moved, he caught his breath. He reached Sibilla. A lot of curls had escaped from the Corporal's jacket collar.

“Can you move?” he asked. She blinked as if she didn't know the answer. “Follow me, slowly.”

He slid towards to the door. Lu'nedda was slumped at the controls. Was she hurt? Well … to Hodie, managing one royal female at a time seemed a practical plan for the next steps.

The wind-car wobbled. With a groan, Lu'nedda raised her head, reflected in all the shattered mirrors. The sight of so many Princessas all at once hurt Hodie's brain.

He reached up, fiddled the catch and the door half-opened. When he peered out, he wanted to throw up.

“We're just a … a bit above the ground.” Sometimes a lie was all right, if it would do a necessary job. “The little Queen should climb out first. Princessa, when the wind-car steadies again, it's your turn.”

The whole tree creaked. The wind-car shuddered and tilted backwards. The squirrel appeared from somewhere, scampered over Hodie's head (claws in his ear!) and disappeared out into the tree. Lu'nedda was sitting up now, eyes squeezed tight – it looked more with fury than being afraid.

Hodie clung to the door jamb. “Hurry. Or we just wait till we slide off and crash. Sibilla, climb over me and out.”

She slid up beside him. “Follow me at once. I won't budge until you promise.”

He nodded to make her shut up. “As soon as you're down, run. Run for your life.”

“We're much higher than you said! But here goes …” She set a knee into his back (much worse than a paw in his ear). Then she gripped the branch and eased along. He saw her hand stretch for the trunk. There was a splitting noise – the branch held – she managed to scramble down two more branches. She thumped to the ground and started running.

“Get away!” he yelled.

“Hodie, come on!” Sibilla cried.

He turned to urge Lu'nedda, but the satchel under his arm hitched him up. As he freed it, a gust of wind blew, and the branch jerked and tipped him out. He lunged at the trunk, slithered past several branches and somehow landed on his knees below the wind-car, still with the satchel.

“Run!” screamed Sibilla.

The tree creaked again. Hodie dashed to where the little Queen crouched beside a tree stump. The branch stuck through the wind-car cracked and split a little more.

“Princessa!” yelled Sibilla. “Slide out now!”

Lu'nedda appeared, handbag slung over a wrist, a slipper clenched in her teeth. She flailed round and grabbed the branch.

“Get both hands on it,” Hodie called. “Now swing your feet to the branch just below … Right! Work your way to the trunk … now just climb. Down,” he added. “Climb down. Down further. Down a lot more.”

Lu'nedda landed on the ground and staggered. The branch began a long creak. The Princessa screamed, the slipper dropped, she rushed towards Hodie and Sibilla, and fell into a hollow behind the stump. There was an almighty thud, and the ground rocked.

The royal wind-car lay flat on its belly beneath the tree. Glass tinkled again inside for several moments. The twirly gold bits had become spikes full of birds' nests and twigs. The wings were smashed. The only sign of Lu'nedda's slipper was a toe sticking out from under the wind-car.

The Princessa crawled out of the hollow. “You helped me.” Her eyes seemed funny, as if she stared at something far away. “You saved me. Both of you.”

“You tried to save us first. At least, I think you did,” Sibilla said. “So don't go on about it. Sit quietly and recover. Hodie has to decide what we do next.”

Hodie actually thought that saving Lu'nedda was an enormous complication. He didn't have a clue what to do now. There the Princessa was, one foot in a ruby slipper, the other in a royal sock. A breeze carried her muttering to him. “Allana … so brave. Dardy … so faithful. And Murgott. How brave. How loyal and brave, and once he used to be a pirate. So loyal. Steadfast. Brave.”

Sibilla dragged him away from Lu'nedda's hearing. “What's your plan?”

He closed his eyes. Every plan he'd tried had failed. This was all because of a load of rubbish that didn't belong to his mother or to him. He slipped the satchel off his shoulder and held it out.

“The stuff's in here. It's yours – you'd better take it.” All he wanted was to be left alone. He was obviously hopeless at having parents. He'd found his mother – only by accident – and lost her again almost at once. His real father was dead. Now Dardy was really dead too.

The Queen stepped back. More hair sprang out around her shoulders. “You can't give up now, Hodie. Did you send the bird to Jasper?”

“Well, I sent it away,” he said.

“Thank goodness,” she said.

“But what use is that?”

Again, she looked as if she'd like to punch him.

He pressed a hand to his chest to help him speak – he owed her that much. “The bird means your brother the King is a clever inventor. But how far can it fly? Does it know where King Jasper is? Can we be sure it flew out of the mountain? It might be stuck in a shopkeeper's wardrobe.”

Sibilla looked totally furious, as well as ridiculous in Murgott's jacket over pyjamas and dressing gown, and with the pink slippers. “But Hodie, you held the bird. Did you begin to feel it might be alive?”

He nearly said yes, but shook his head.

“I thought – but maybe it wasn't …” She blinked away tears. “But something else – you knew the hot wind trapped inside the mountain would escape and help the wind-car into the air.”

Yes, and he had nearly killed them. He tried again to walk away.

She hurried after him. “We're not even hurt!”

Had she read his thoughts? “Dardy's dead,” he managed to say. “My mother's a prisoner. Murgott's dead or captured too. And it's my fault.”

For a moment the Queen looked scared again, lost. “Hodie, I'm trying to let you see. We can't give up. I'll never come into my magic, but I must take The Ties to the dragon-eagle before it dies …” She straightened her shoulders. “Please help me.”

“Even if they are The Ties … Look.” He took a deep breath. “I'm not your servant. I just want to go south. I don't actually believe that the dragon-eagles …” The words started to go slippery.

Her hands flew up to hold her lucky charm. “But in the laboratory, the dragon-eagle spoke to you as well as me. It's relying on me … And it's relying on you too.”

Hodie felt a spark inside him, but just for a moment. How could he rescue her any more than he'd already done? How could he save a dragon-eagle? He limped away and leaned against a tree. He would have liked to weep – for Dardy, his mother, Murgott, and himself – but he had no energy.

A chittering sounded above him. The squirrel, on a branch, cocked its head as if it listened. There were bird calls and a sort of rushing in Hodie's ears, but it wasn't the breeze. Through the trees he saw the grey and white churning of the Great Salt Moat. Salt water was the sea. The Moat had to have an opening to Old Ocean.

He stared up at the shattered wings of the royal wind-car. A breeze rattled through them. What you needed, so Dardy had taught Hodie, was common sense and a way with a hammer. What you needed, so Murgott had taught him, was tactics. The best tactic now was a way off the shore and onto the sea. This was something that an odd-job boy could do!

Mind you, the sea around here was said to be infested by Ocean Toads. He just had to hope like blazes it was the Toads' day off.

~