The Queen and the Nobody Boy (23 page)

When Hodie dared look down, the wind-carriage was soaring over wild lands. The Great Salt Moat soon lay beneath, crinkled with waves. His hands cramped. So did his knees. Then at the foot of Um'Binnia he saw the Fontanian flagship the
Excellent Eagle
, moored beside a small sailing vessel. Her sails were furls of green, the hull painted in segments – orange, yellow, red and purple. The
Royal Traveller
. Just as the second metal bird had told Sibilla, King Jasper and Lady Beatrix had each arrived. There would be a battle ahead.

Hodie couldn't bear to see the approach to the wind-garage. He closed his eyes against the sting of the wind till he felt a bump. He tumbled off onto the cavern floor, too cold to move. Something furry rolled after him –
ch-ch-chk!
He managed to wriggle with the squirrel into shadows behind a work bench.

Gree'sle, the Emperor and six officers jumped from the carriage. The Princessa stumbled out last, handcuffed and forgotten.

At the rear of the cave was a turmoil of silver feathers, flashes of swords and daggers, the crack of pistols. There were so many Um'Binnians, so few Fontanians. King Jasper, in a helmet and metal jerkin, shielded the wounded dragon-eagle. Fresh blood trickled down its side. Its broken wing dragged on the floor. There was Lady Beatrix, the King's fiancée, one of her arms red with blood as well, wielding a sword as if – well, as if it was a heavy sword. Hodie's mother was there, too, in the cluster of Fontanian soldiers. She was alive and fighting too! Allana swung a short sword with both hands as she held off two Um'Binnian officers.

Near Hodie, there came a roar of fire. On his side of the cavern stood the new-born dragon-eagle, wings half-spread, staggering a bit because it was so young. Sibilla still clung to its shoulders. Another flash of fire came from its beak, but it was unable to get closer to the fighting – and how could it use its flame when it might kill the King or Lady Beatrix?

“Surrender,” Prowdd'on shouted. “Everything is mine! Fontania, treasures, all things!”

An Um'Binnian officer blew his trumpet. The fighting quieted.

Both dragon-eagles swung toward Prowdd'on. His shoulders stiffened.

The wounded dragon-eagle spoke, and the air in the cavern rang with a long chime ~
Magic must be given freely
~

Prowdd'on laughed, though it seemed rather put-on.

There was another rush of wind into the cavern and Hodie's fringe blew in his eyes. A second military wind-carriage landed. From behind its rear axle tumbled the big shape of Murgott. So he had been stupid too! In a second, the Corporal was hidden behind a pile of crates near Hodie.

But now officers were leaping out of the carriage and standing with Prowdd'on, pistols aimed at King Jasper, Lady Beatrix, Lady Allana.

Hodie felt more hopeless than he'd ever felt in all his life.

Jasper lowered his sword and raised a hand, palm up, to Prowdd'on. “Think about it, Emperor. Your city is full of rebels. Do all your people want you to destroy the last chance to preserve magic?”

“You're hardly older than a boy and your beard is a joke,” said Prowdd'on. “Your sister is a ragamuffin brat in stolen pyjamas.”

Lu'nedda called out. “Father! Listen to King Jasper! For once, think of something besides selfish self!”

Hodie saw Murgott's head pop up. Pocket-knife out, the Corporal was sneaking along the side of the carriage to release Lu'nedda's handcuffs. For a moment, Jasper too was distracted by the movement. Gree'sle lunged for him, and King Jasper was in a death-grip, sword at his throat.

The wounded dragon-eagle reared up and threatened Prowdd'on with a flame.

Nobody moved.

Except Sibilla. She let go the silver feathers of the new dragon-eagle's neck and slid to the cavern floor, an arm's length from Hodie. The drawstring bag slid off too and fell apart completely. On the floor lay Murgott's notebook, open. Tiny silver shapes of words began to float up from the fluttering pages. Sibilla blinked at them. Hodie recognised them as they shimmered and curved in the air. It was the poem Murgott had written about the little Queen when she was two, the day she and her brother had been crowned – words about her generous heart and loving soul.

For a moment Sibilla pressed her head to the new young dragon-eagle's side. Then she stepped into the centre of the cavern.

Hodie's hand flew to grasp the spanner in his shirt – it was all he had left with which to defend her.

“Emperor Prowdd'on,” cried Sibilla. “King Jasper. Lady Beatrix, Princessa Lu'nedda, everyone! Please listen. I'm willing to share what I have – it isn't much. But, for instance… now I have two crowns. I've got one at home already. The dragon-eagle made this one – well, Hodie helped. Emperor, tell the Commander to let my brother go, and I'll give you this crown.”

“It is only silver,” Prowdd'on said. “I will have gold.”

Gree'sle's grip tightened on King Jasper's throat.

Sibilla's hand went to her neck too – she gripped the pendant. “I have this!” she shouted. “It's the oldest gold!” She yanked it off her neck.

This was the moment to distract Gree'sle. Hodie leapt on top of the work bench. “There's this too!” He pulled out the spanner and raised his arm.

In the same moment that Sibilla tossed the pendant, he threw the spanner. Glittering, they whirled towards Prowdd'on. The Emperor jumped back. The pendant and spanner collided with a flash of green – the air around the two vibrated and glowed as the pieces fused. A clash of music rang and echoed, and swelled throughout the cavern.

There, on the floor, lay a golden sceptre. It shivered and shimmered, grew three times larger as everyone watched. It was richest, brightest gold.

Prowdd'on bent to pick it up.

“No!” cried King Jasper.

~
The Queen's sceptre!
~ cried the re-born dragon-eagle. ~
Only the Queen of Fontania must touch it!
~

Jasper kicked out then, and Gree'sle staggered and let go. The stand-off, if you asked Hodie, was at a stand-still.

~
Queen, take up the sceptre
~ said the wounded dragon-eagle.

~
Take it up
~ said the other, the new-born, the fire-born ~
Queen, take it up
~

King Jasper and Lady Beatrix whispered encouragement. Hodie heard his mother urging too. Lu'nedda and Murgott, both very bedraggled, looked at the little Queen, waiting. Hodie held his breath.

~
There is more to magic than anyone knows
~ said the wounded dragon-eagle. ~
The sceptre is proof that you have come into your magic, Queen Sibilla
~

She brushed her dirty hands on the even dirtier pyjamas, stepped over and took up the sceptre. It seemed heavy.

The wounded dragon-eagle spoke again. ~
First, I must ask you to heal my wing. Then you may grant one wish to one person. It may be to any person present
~

Sibilla raised her head and walked slowly to the wounded dragon-eagle. With the golden token she touched the broken wing. Sweet-scented mist rose around her. Then she stepped back. The dragon-eagle carefully flexed its wing, flapped both wings hard enough to make a breeze run around the cavern, and lowered its head to her in thanks.

~
True Queen
~ sang two silver voices.

For a moment the very air seemed a blur of silver. A murmur trickled through the crowd – Sibilla's grubby pyjamas had disappeared, and she was dressed in a green and gold tunic, with green leggings and what looked like nice soft boots. Her face and hands were clean. Under the crown of folded silver, her hair was glossy, thick and honey-yellow. (Hodie saw her squint sideways and give it a pat.)

“Now I have to grant a wish?” she asked. Hodie could tell how nervous she was. “To anyone? And I choose?”

The dragon-eagles lowered their great heads and seemed to smile.

“Then I grant it to Prowdd'on,” she said in a shaky voice. “Of course it can't be to rule Fontania. But he's really an unhappy man, and I hope he will have what his heart truly desires and be content.”

Prowdd'on gave a delighted snort.

“It is a trick, Magnificence!” cried Gree'sle.

“Shut up,” said the Emperor. “This is finally promising.”

~
Think carefully
~ chimed the re-born dragon-eagle.

~
Very carefully indeed
~ rang the voice of its healed companion.

“I have best brain in Um'Binnia,” said Prowdd'on. “My wish is this – that I am surrounded forever by what I most love.”

Sibilla raised the sceptre. “Are you sure?”

“Never question me,” the Emperor said.

So Sibilla touched the sceptre to Prowdd'on's shoulder. Hodie saw her arm tremble as if sparks ran through it.

A fresh flask of Roar-juice flew out of Gree'sle's pocket. It arced through the air, flattened, then with rattling and clattering multiplied into many mirrors. A complete lattice of little mirrors formed around the Emperor, taller than he was – a glittering container, bars of mirrors facing him.

“What's this?” Prowdd'on bellowed. “Take it away!”

Through the gaps in the mirror lattice Hodie saw a thousand bellowing reflections of the Emperor.

~
We said be careful
~ said the healed dragon-eagle.

~
We said be very careful
~ said the other.

“Get me out!” Prowdd'on roared inside the cage.

A soldier with a crowbar started towards him.

“There has to be another treasure! This isn't fair!” the Emperor cried.

“There's nothing else,” said Sibilla.

Hodie fumbled with the button of his shirt pocket. “There is,” he called. “I'd forgotten. But it's just the last seed.”

“Give it to me!” Prowdd'on stuck his hand out through the lattice. The soldier with the crowbar bowed and waited.

Hodie shuffled over. It was awful being the centre of attention. The Emperor wiggled his fingers for him to hurry. Hodie held the seed up, then drew his arm back.

“I think it's a dud, but it might still be dangerous,” he said. “I'm not sure …”

Something grey streaked over the cavern floor and tripped Hodie up. The seed soared through the air, the squirrel caught it with one deft paw, scampered up the network of mirrors and dropped the seed into Prowdd'on's palm.

“I've got it!” shouted Prowdd'on. “Now what do I do?”

“Don't eat it!” cried Sibilla.

“You mustn't eat it!” Hodie cried at the same moment.

There was a split second of silence, then Prowdd'on chuckled. “Another trick,” he said.

Through the grille, Hodie saw him lift his hand to his (very big) mouth and pop in the seed.

Silence again. The Emperor coughed and spat the seed out.

Too late. It was growing already, sending roots and purple shoots and twirly gold tangles around his head. It threaded through the mirrors, stronger and more flourishing each moment, so fast there was nothing anyone or any dragon-eagle could do about it (even if they'd wanted to). The squirrel chittered and danced and leapt around the cavern walls, screaming with glee.

Lu'nedda took a step towards the glittering tumbleweed that encased her father. “Oh dear,” she said.

Sibilla wiped her nose on her green and golden sleeve, and glanced out at the sky with a look of shock. A moment later, the wind began to whistle into the cavern.

It was an insistent wind, very particular. It whirled around the cavern, chose the shining tangle with Emperor Prowdd'on in the centre, and whisked it out into the air, up and away until it wasn't even a dot in the cloud-free sky beyond Um'Binnia.

Lu'nedda's face was wet with tears, but she turned and bowed to Sibilla. “Royal sister. My first announcement as Empress is that I declare the war officially off.”

Soldiers and officers on both sides cheered.

Lu'nedda took Sibilla's hand. “I am sure you would like to go home as soon as possible to your lady mother.” She bowed to King Jasper. “Royal brother, you and Lady Beatrix are welcome to rest here in my city before you leave.”

Jasper bowed too. “It seems that Um'Binnia has a new ruler.”

“Actually,” a voice cried from the rear of the cavern, “some of us want Ogg'ward for President!”

Lu'nedda raised her head. In her tattered pink gown, Murgott's best (scuffed) boots and ratty ringlets, she walked to the centre of the cavern and looked more of an Empress with every step. “I will consult with the rebels!” she declared. “I honestly promise!”

So it looked like a pretty happy ending, if you asked Hodie.

Silvery mist still feathered around Sibilla. Her brother and Lady Beatrix each went and hugged her, then hugged each other.

Gree'sle was looking fairly sick and trying to sneak off.

Allana stopped him – a short stern woman, a tall uneasy man. She beckoned to an officer, who looked very pleased to lead Gree'sle away in manacles.

Allana dusted her hands, then threaded through the crowds, hunting for something – oh, Hodie realised – hunting for him.

“My brave son,” she said in her husky voice.

“My brave mother.” His voice had gone husky too.

“I can go home at last,” she said. “Where I belong. I hope you …” She stopped. It was one of those tricky family moments.

But Murgott's heavy hand landed on Hodie's shoulder. “I knew the little Queen could do it.”

“Me too,” said Hodie. “With or without magic, actually. But it is better with.”

“Attention!” Murgott saluted Sibilla, true Queen of Fontania, who was walking towards them in her magic tunic, magic leggings, magic boots.

“Hodie, thank you,” she said. “Just a little thank you right now. We'll have a ceremony back home, a really huge one where you'll sit between me and my brother, and I'll thank you properly. With a medal, or the key to your own palace, or probably both. But what we really need now is some breakfast. I'd like pancakes cooked by Murgott, down in one of our own ships – the normal kind that floats.”