Leapfrog, p.14
Leapfrog, page 14
part #5 of Bannister's Muster Series
Brewster hadn’t stopped smiling, and abruptly he brought his hands in front of him, both holding plates of cakes. One plate was piled with little cupcakes with strawberries and cream on top. The other hands gripped a plate with lots and lots of slices of chocolate sponge, with cream, custard and blackberries smothered all over it. Alice was startled. Messina looked across and sighed. As Alice, Poppy and Sam rushed up and took the cakes, Messina said, “You really have been a gentleman, Mr. Hazlett, and an exceedingly kind one too. Therefore I must welcome you into our home. But I have to point out that you are still our enemy. Your family usurped the throne from my family many centuries ago, and have continuously refused to give it back. But more importantly, we have been threatened and hounded, you have attacked myself and my friends and family, and you have put our lives in danger.”
Flopping down on one of the chairs, Brewster stretched his very long skinny legs out in front of him, and said, “Messy-wessy-milly-Octobr-November, kiss my hand and then fall over. I have never, my dear lady, attacked nor threatened you.” Poppy hurried over, and sat on the chair facing Brewster, while Sam squeezed in next to her. Peter sat on one arm of the chair, Alice sat on the other, and John stood behind them, both arms leaning on the back of the chair. “What a delightful audience,” Brewster cackled. “Ready? All together now, let us sing of cherry blossom and Sparkan dragons.”
“You have most certainly attacked us,” said Messina sternly. “What about those disgusting red jelly things?”
“Yaark,” said Brewster. “Those creatures come from the meteor as Yaark does.”
“But,” insisted Messina, “your father made a deal with Yaark to increase his power and get rid of all opposition, which means us.”
Without losing his smile, Brewster replied, “Yaark never made a deal with daddy-waddy, you know. T’was grannpy-wampy. My beloved grandfather was a weak wizard. Eager but unwise. Lifted his arms for changing the world, and all he got was a wriggly worm, boss-eyed and scared.”
“Then why is Yaark still here?” demanded Bayldon.
Brewster shook his head. “Made a deal, didn’t he, the little blue star. My father has been trying to get rid of him ever since. Gave up once, he did, poor old fatty-watty. Went to live on Sparkan. Met my pretty mother. Married as the volcano erupted. Had twinny-win-winnys. Tis hard to be mum to twinny-win-winnies. We all lived on Sparkan.
“Gosh,” said Poppy. “What an amazing place to grow up. Did you play with the dragons?”
“Indeed, indeed,” said the wizard. “Serpents, dragons, wolves and wooshabouts. Even the occasional blue rabbit. But my father decided it was time to come back, claim his empire and get rid of Yaark. And, I might add, get rid of the Octobrs.”
“But you’ve helped us over and over,” said Sam, piping up from the cushions. “You got rid of Braxton who was on your dad’s side. And all those terrible weapons. You got rid of them.”
“And you help Nat cut the Eternal Chain,” said Peter.
“You’ve always been nice to me,” sighed Poppy.
“I may point out,” said Brewster, that we all have our own standards. Your brother saved my life. You helped my brother, and I do not consider you my enemies, even though sadly Wagster and my father do so. I have no desire to be emperor, but my father does, and so does my brother.”
He had everyone’s attention. For a start, he was talking sense, without riddles or made-up words. He was also talking on a subject which was uppermost in everyone’s minds.
John had already made the tea and the pot stood steaming on the little table as Messina and Alice poured it for everyone. Brewster drank his with a bit of a slurp and no one was quite sure whether he liked it or not, but he certainly made no complaint, and as Alice and Poppy started to clear away the used cups, Brewster popped his hands behind his back again, and pulled out six bright red hessian head bands, all pinned with different feathers. “For Poppsy-wopsy sugar and cake, wear my feathers for my sake,” he said, grin wide, and handed her a band with seven huge ostrich feathers, which could not possibly have been picked up in America. Then he passed the other bands with their glorious feathers to Alice, John, Peter and Sam. And then he left one on the table, saying, “And this for Alfie when he gets home, and this – I give to you – for Bumble-Bee-Head, to make him a Sea-Eagle-Head instead.”
Poppy took the headband handed to her for her brother, and gazed at it in wonder. It was decorated with two clumps of feathers on either side, one clump in thick white tail feathers, and the other clump in rich black. “It’s gorgeous,’ she said, “thanks. Nat will love this.”
Peter had started to pull on his own headband and was thrilled. It was a little too big for him, but he tucked it behind his ears so it wouldn’t fall over his eyes. Then he grabbed up his lute, and smiled at Brewster, asking, “Do you like music, Mr. Hazlett?”
Brewster shook his head. “Music magic is capable of many things,” he said, his green eyes narrowed. “It can do many things which magic cannot undo. Music is a dangerous business, especially since I believe you have been taught by a powerful witch.”
Peter hurriedly put his lute down on the table, and went to sit alone, most disappointed. “I was taught by the Lady Tryppa,” he said, “and she’s wonderful.”
But Poppy took over. “Dear Brewster,” she said with a small gulp, “you’ve become such a lovely friend. I don’t suppose you would agree to leaving your brother and father and coming over with us?”
Her mother stood at once. “Don’t be silly, my dear,” she said in a hurry. “No, he could not. His father would be furious, and that alone would be dangerous. Besides, whatever Mr. Brewster might say on the spur of the moment now, he is sure to change his mind. He is a Hazlett wizard. That’s never going to change.”
“Less he turns into a snake like his mum,” said Sam with a slight snigger.
Brewster stood most abruptly, turning to Poppy. “I consider myself your friend,” he said without smiling. “And I hope I am right in thinking you my friend. But now I shall leave and return to my own people. They are and always shall be – my family. My people. And my friends.”
Stiff-backed, and almost rigid, Brewster left by the front door, stood outside, raised his hands and waited. Clearly, he was much disappointed. He had enjoyed himself far more than he ever could have expected and for several days it had been considerably more entertaining than living with his family. But he had felt wanted, and now realised that the adults had not wanted him at all. A sudden rush of loneliness swept over him.
As he watched the great striped balloon come floating down towards him, Poppy and John came running out of the house. Before Brewster could climb into his balloon, John grabbed the side, holding it still, and saying, “You ain’t gotta be cross, wiv us y’know, Brewster. Youi’s a friend to the rest of us. Gotta remember them is fighting against the Hazletts fer years. Y’can’t change habits that quick.”
Brewster turned to him without any shadow of a smile. “I did,” he said.
Poppy flung her arms around Brewster’s waist. “You’re a lovely friend, truly you are. Once all this horrid war business is over and done with, we’ll be able to be proper friends all the time. Perhaps even Wagster will cheer up once he’s got over Yaark not being there.”
“I reckons Yaark be gone,” John said.
But Brewster shook his head. “If Yaark was destroyed, my brother would be back to normal. He’s only half alive because Yaark calls to him.”
They watched as Brewster hopped into the balloon’s basket, pulled on the ropes, chuckled to himself, and began to rise up into the air. The breezes were light, but the sudden gusts carried him high, until he was a tiny speck in the air, leaning over the edge of the basket to wave goodbye as Poppy and John waved back.
As the whole Balloon disappeared up into the clouds, they wandered back indoors, and sat, a little gloomily.
“You should not be so friendly, Poppy,” Messina said. “To be polite and say thank you is good. But that man is not our friend.”
Poppy had gone pink and was staring into her lap. Sam and Alice were cheerfully eating cake, but everyone else was looking around at the others. Finally Poppy said, “He saved my life, you know. John first and Brewster afterwards.” She looked around at John who still stood at the back of the chair. “You were wonderful,” she said, half whispering. “You really did save my life, didn’t you? Then Brewster made me better.” She now looked around a little wildly, hoping for someone else to speak, but they were all looking extremely uncomfortable.
“I reckons,” John said, breaking the silence, “that there fellow’d gladly join us. Don’t you reckon? But he don’t know how to leave his dad.”
Everyone quietly nodded. “And if he did join,” said Bayldon, “he might suddenly feel guilty and sneak back. He could tell his father whatever we plan. We can’t risk that.”
“I think I’ll go to bed,” said Poppy. Bed seemed safe, warm and quiet, but she didn’t sleep. For some hours she lay awake, wondering what she should do, or not do, concerning Brewster.
Poppy was thinking about this, her thoughts tying themselves in knots, while in the main living room Messina, Bayldon, Zakmeister and Ferdinand were discussing the exact same thing together, unable to decide whether Brewster could be safely accepted as a friend, or whether he should be ignored or treated as an enemy.
Chapter Thirteen
In the Village of Pickles some distance away, Nathan, Alfie, Granny and Sherdam came to the door of the cottage overlooking the bay and the fishing boats, and discovered that Ferdinand’s wife was at home, but that he was away.
“I’ve no idea where they all went,” Sorezuma said with a curtsey to Granny. “He went with the empress, he did, and is most proud to be taken in such company. But I don’t know where, your illustrious ladyship, nor when he might be expected back home.”
They walked down to the port, keeping silent and to the shadows. Nathan, in particular, did not want to be seen. Ignoring the most sumptuous and unusual of the three grand houses, the small group walked down to where the big bare white marble house sat close to the large pillared stone home, with its pretty windows, plants and peaked roof.
“So? Which one first?” asked Alfie.
“I choose the prettier one,” said Nat. “It’s more of a mystery. That can’t be Clebbster, nor the twins I’ll bet.”
“I agree on the style of houses,” said Granny at once. “But it’s Clebbster’s home I’d choose. That ugly marble monstrosity.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Sherdam. “We can guess who belongs where, so the interest is less. But the stone house with roses and daisies? Now, that’s quite a puzzle.”
“Dunno,” said Alfie. “’Spose I’ll vote with Nat.”
Granny sighed. “You have voted me out, wretched nuisances that you are. So – come along – let us explore this mystifying house of stone.”
It was Sherdam who now bustled them all into a small neat circle, and started by explaining. “I can make you all invisible for an hour,” he said. “But if one of the strong wizards is inside this house, they may see you anyway. I can’t be sure. My magic is strong but so is their’s. So be quick, be silent, be sure to keep in the shadows, and then hurry outside where we can compare notes.”
“If we see the Knife of Clarr,” said Granny, “then show Nat, and he can pick it up immediately. I will grab it if I can, but I’ve no desire to burn my fingers off. Besides, it’s the other house, where we believe Clebbster lives, that’s more likely to be where we’ll find it.”
“Let’s just hope no one is at home,” muttered Alfie, and with a click of Sherdam’s fingers, every one of the group disappeared. They turned into streaked shades, then grew narrower and narrower until they were thin slices of moving darkness. And then, finally as they approached the house, they disappeared entirely.
The house was two storeys high with many polished windows, curtains showing within, a peaked roof with more windows, two tall chimneys, and ivy growing up from bottom to top. Around the little white painted doorway were climbing roses, and at the base where white stone steps led to the front door, were clusters of daisies. No smoke rose from the chimneys, but then it was a very warm day and the sun shone golden across the sea and the rooftops.
“Right,” said granny although she could not be seen. “I shall open the door. Follow me, but make no sound. A creak of floorboards, or a sigh or a hiccup could all be heard and cost us our lives.”
Nobody answered her, but the little door swung magically open, and some slight breeze could be seen entering at the rose leaves and the daisy petals seemed to be brushed aside.
Inside was not how any of them had expected. Outside was white and pretty. Inside it was utterly black. The walls were painted black and glossy, with rich orange designs painted on the centre in huge streaks. The ceilings were black, the floors were black, the woodwork was all black, and only the windows, although their frames were black, showed light for the curtains were bright orange and were tightly closed.
There was very little furniture, but two long benches lined the walls of the main room, and in the centre of the floor were painted orange patterns, similar to those on the walls. As quietly as they could, everyone tiptoed from the large empty room to the one behind. This was more unpleasant. It was also entirely black but there were no windows, no orange curtains, and no painted signs. Nor was there any furniture, but the floor was littered with iron chains, many of them screwed into hooks on the floor.
There was one more room on the ground floor, and everyone expected a form of kitchen, but it was not. There was a small pool, and in this pool slept a snake, large, fat and scaled in many colours.
“I think we should go,” said Alfie, staring into the pool.
Sherdam, a little surprised, asked, “You dislike snakes? We’ve seen so many lately, and you never complained so I assumed you didn’t care.”
“I don’t care,” muttered Alfie. “These Hazlettys keep snakes or turn into them one way or t’other. But this one is the sister, ain’t it! Gotta be. Well, I’m not marching into some female’s bedroom. Or bathroom, what’d be worse. We’re lucky there was a snake in this pool and not some naked woman swimming.”
“Perhaps the snake is the naked lady,” suggested Nathan.
But Alfie was already halfway outside. “All these pretty flowers outside,’ he said, turning. “And curtains and stuff. I’ve changed my mind. It’s the other house, the shiny marble one, I want to see,”
Granny followed him. “I suggest that we all go next door,” she said. “I believe that is where Clebbster lives, although I’m hoping he’s still at Clarr, or possibly in Sparkan. I intend taking the risk and searching anyway. Sherdam,” she looked around, “are you coming?”
Pausing on the doorstep, Sherdam hesitated. “The strange designs on the floors and walls interested me,” he said. “I have an idea what they are, and need to look again. Don’t wait for me, I’ll follow you in a few moments.”
“Very well,” said Granny, “but please don’t be long, my dear. You know we shouldn’t separate. The danger is too great, and soon your invisible time runs out and you’ll be seen.”
He nodded and walked very quietly back into the house. Granny led Nathan and Alfie to the huge marble house next door. Although from the outside the gleaming white marble was grandly beautiful. The house itself was ugly. It was bare, with dark windows and marble pillars like bars all along the walls of the ground floor. The doorway was also pillared, and the door, which was double, was painted white to match everything else.
“So blank,” Nathan said, staring up at its three storeys. Such a great big house with teeny-weeny windows. Black windows in white marble. And those horrid pillars. There must be twenty or more.”
“Whether or not we like the decoration,” said Granny, “really doesn’t matter. No one has invited us to live here. Now, let’s take a walk around first, just to make sure no one is at home pointing a shotgun at us. I think we must be visible by now.”
They could see little or nothing through the dark windows, but there was no sound nor sign of movement and eventually, everyone decided it would be safe to creep in, as long as they could find how. There were massive locks on the door and two enormous padlocks hanging from the handles, but Granny was able to click her fingers, and they were immediately inside.
But the house was not empty at all, as they soon discovered. In a small front room, door open, they saw Wagster lying flat on a padded couch, his head supported by two comfortable pillows, his legs stretched out straight, his arms at his sides, and his eyes tightly closed. Very quickly all three hurried from the open door and tiptoed further into the back of the house.
“Asleep?” whispered Nathan and Granny nodded, indicating to follow her.
They peeped into several large rooms, all comfortably furnished but empty of people, and basically empty of any personality. “You’d think someone like Clebbster would have a more interesting home,” mumbled Nathan, but once again Granny raised her finger to her lips and pointed to the room right at the back of the house. It seemed to be especially large, and there were sounds of hoarse breathing.
There sat Clebbster, hunched over a large table. His arms were crossed on the table top, his head resting on his arms, and his face hidden. Yet he too appeared to be asleep, and he was snoring very softly. He wore black silk and velvet as usual, black metal rings on his thumbs, and his beautiful walking stick was leaning against his chair beside him.
The table was covered with many things, including quills, ink pots, papers and books. But the one thing that was immediately noticeable was the Knife of Clarr. It was clear and bright, lying flat and gleaming, but it was suspended in thick ice, just as Messina, Bayldon and the others had been in the Clarr ice chamber. A huge cube of solid ice surrounded the knife on all sides, and seemed utterly trapped.
