The Shadow Thief Page 13

  Milli, on the other hand, was far more interested in bellowing directions left, right and centre. ‘Throw it off course,’ she shouted. ‘Veer left, no right, row backwards! Faster, Ernest!’ But no amount of direction could save them now. The Vortex was almost upon them.

  Up close, Milli could see that it had undergone an incredible metamorphosis from whirlpool to human. The faces of Lord Aldor’s Notorious Nine were pushing their way through the water. (I do not mean to say that the magicians were appearing there and then in the middle of the Lurid Lagoon. As we know, they were back at Hog House, feasting, drinking and looking for clues as to the children’s whereabouts. But the whirlpool itself was taking on their form.) In the spinning water the faces merged into one before breaking into a cluster again.

  The children were at a loss. If they were sucked into the Carnivorous Vortex, they would finish up as supper and their bones would be spat out for the fish to clean. If a book existed somewhere in the world entitled Vanquishing Vortexes of the Carnivorous Kind, then the children certainly hadn’t read it. Furthermore, they hadn’t a clue as to how to fight water. Of course, you and I know that water is a very tricky element that must be outwitted rather than outrun. Just as when handling difficult adults, confrontation does not usually work. But no one was around to give the children this much-needed advice. They were not to know that a thrashing oar was futile against something of such might and power. But they would soon learn that lesson for themselves.

  The watery faces now loomed so close that Milli could make out the anchor tattoos on the pirate’s cheek. Helpless, the four children scrambled into the central wooden cabin designed to protect passengers from inclement weather. Nettle was not quite fast enough. Arms outstretched, she was diving for refuge under a tarpaulin when the churning monster caught hold of her ankle. In a flash she was being dragged towards the foaming red mouth. Nettle struggled and kicked but her efforts were in vain. The Carnivorous Vortex seemed to be enjoying the fight. It was working up an appetite.

  Within seconds Leo and Milli were on their feet and using every ounce of strength they had to reclaim Nettle. Ernest, however, stood stock still. His arms and legs felt as heavy as spaghetti carbonara, but Ernest’s mind was not gluggy like carbonara. It was whizzing and buzzing and steaming with ideas for rescuing his damsel in distress. As Milli and Leo battled to keep Nettle from disappearing into the Carnivorous Vortex, Ernest rolled up his sleeves calmly. If the whirlpool wanted Nettle, let it think it could have her! This was his one chance to prove himself and by jingles he was not going to blow it. Ernest thought hard, which is difficult to do when time is limited. He imagined what he would do if that nasty Horace Rugknuckle tried to steal his prized lapis lazuli. Knowing he hadn’t the strength, or the courage, to fight the tank-like Horace, Ernest knew he would take the next best option: trade. No blood or broken bones and everyone satisfied. His eyes scanned the contents of the boat and came to rest on the giant bear offered to them by Gristle.

  ‘That’s it!’ he shouted, startling even himself.

  He took a flying leap across the gondola and seized the bear by its neck. In primitive societies, the ritual of sacrifice is sacred and the sacrifice itself is generally treated with reverence and awe. Ernest hadn’t time for such niceties and simply flung the bear as hard as he could manage into the very throat of the ravenous Carnivorous Vortex. It swallowed noisily (making some very uncouth gulping sounds) and Nettle was plonked unceremoniously back into the gondola.

  The Vortex was much too busy dismembering the bear to notice the children now. They rowed fast having been granted this window of opportunity. Looking back, they saw an explosion of white stuffing as nine mouths now fought for the biggest morsel of the child they believed had flown so propitiously into their gullets.

  The children rowed so hard they felt as if their muscles would simply give out, and only stopped when the churning Carnivorous Vortex (probably suffering from indigestion by now) was no longer in sight. Nettle, who was not accustomed to needing rescuing, turned suddenly bashful.

  ‘Thought I was about to become a frittata back there.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Nettle. I’d never let that happen,’ Ernest told her truthfully.

  ‘Thanks, Ernie.’ She leaned forward to put her head on his shoulder and Ernest would happily have gone through the whole ordeal again just to have that single, joyous moment repeated.

  They rowed in what they hoped was a northerly direction in silence. Milli spied a thick tree trunk floating on the water and was reminded of Gristle. Without his help, they would never have defeated the first challenge the lagoon had dished out. But what was to come? She had not been naive enough to think their voyage would be easy. She had known it would be arduous, impossible perhaps. Now she knew they would also be risking their lives.

  She remembered the map and pulled it out of the pouch, damp but otherwise undamaged. Spreading it out, Leo traced their route with his finger. They were to continue north then veer westerly when they came to a fork in the water. ‘Follow the map and we’ll come face to face with the caverns,’ Milli confirmed noticing as she spoke that they were all suddenly ankle-deep in water. Without allowing them time to pause for breath, the next challenge had already presented itself. Staying afloat! The water in the gondola was rising rapidly.

  ‘Mother of pearl!’ groaned a gutted Ernest.

  ‘Know what my old sports coach used to say?’ Leo nudged him gently in the ribs. ‘Go hard or go home.’

  ‘Great motto,’ Ernest muttered dismally.

  Leo ran his hand along the bottom of the boat and found a section of splintered wood where a leak had sprung allowing the waters of the Lurid Lagoon to seep through.

  ‘We have to stop it!’ Milli cried.

  ‘First we have to get to it. Start bailing!’ Leo ordered.

  ‘What with?’

  ‘Something absorbent. Try your socks, Ernest.’

  And so followed a frenzied dunking and wringing of the thick woollen socks Ernest had been wearing. Socks, as it turned out, made very effective sponges and after some effort the crack was exposed.

  Milli ransacked the pouch for something that might now serve as a plug, discarding items as she searched. The pouch empty, she looked up to find the two boys and Nettle busily chomping their way through the supply of Fudge Chews she had packed. ‘How can you eat at a time like this?’ she cried.

  Leo’s expression of serious concentration did not change and he chomped even louder. When he was finished, he spat the slobbery brown glob into his hand and proudly showed around his toffee putty. Milli was speechless. Spitting food was terrible manners. Leo popped another sweet into his mouth.

  ‘Don’t you know that Fudge Chews make excellent glue?’ He let the second mass of sticky paste plop into his hand. ‘Watch this.’

  Bending down, Leo wedged the softened Fudge Chew into the crack and instantly the trickle of water thinned.

  ‘Well, fancy that,’ Milli said, and caught the sweet that Leo tossed to her.

  Before long all four children were zealously at work, chewing, spitting and plugging. Had you been passing by on a boat of your own, you would have thought them very rude indeed. When all the sweets were chomped and jammed into the crack, Leo rocked back on his heels to admire their work. It wasn’t the most attractive of solutions, but it did the job almost as well as glue itself.

  ‘You know, when we get home we’re going to make a fortune out of this,’ Ernest announced. ‘A line of edible adhesives is bound to sell like hotcakes!’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Fishy Business

  By the time the gondola finally reached the fork they had been searching for, everyone’s hands were red and blistered and their legs had long gone numb. The lagoon divided into two channels neither of which looked particularly welcoming. The right-hand stretch was narrower and a fine veil of mist hung over the water. Here the banks were lushly carpeted with seagrass, hollowed-out in places as though it had been slept i
n. They also spotted trails of silvery slime, like something left by a giant snail.

  On the left, the way was wider, with sharp grey rocks emerging from the water like mammoth teeth. Trees hung low over the lagoon, forming a sort of canopy and blocking out any trace of moonlight. Both paths looked as treacherous as each other.

  Nettle unfurled the map to verify that they were to take the path on the right. As the gondola glided through the narrow channel, the jagged cliffs were so close they felt cocooned by them.

  No sooner did they enter the channel, a panting sound interspersed with unintelligible chatter travelled through the fog to greet them. Before they could begin to speculate as to its origin, a tribe of sea monkeys appeared on the cliffs and proceeded to follow them. Clambering over rocks, they used their tails as catapults to send little brown pellets raining down on the gondola. Startled but otherwise unharmed, the children rowed faster and eventually left the sea monkeys behind, screaming and jumping in frustration at their departure. Only later, when the raucous jabber was reduced to a faint echo did they realise that the pellets were not loose stones from the cliffs as they had first supposed, but monkey droppings!

  Leo took over as gondolier and Milli slumped down flexing her hands in relief. Free of the monkeys’ pranks, they were able to look around them and could see that the indentations in the seagrass cradled speckled oval shapes that could only be eggs. The eggs lay in clumsy circles and were coated in an amber glaze that glowed pale and eerie in the moonlight. None of the children had ever seen eggs this size before. They would have liked to take a closer look, but the coating of cloudy amber film dampened any plans for further investigation. They were also very conscious that they were racing against the clock. In a few hours, the magicians would take their places on the red velvet seats of the shiny gondolas waiting for them back at the River Slop and set off for the caverns.

  A stirring in the water drew Milli’s attention. Looking down, she managed to glimpse a pair of eyes, round as saucers, before their owner darted out of sight, leaving only Milli’s own reflection gazing back at her. ‘Ernest!’ she gasped, clutching at him. ‘There was a face in the water!’

  But when Ernest leaned over to look for himself the mysterious face had vanished without a trace. Only a few wrinkles rippling on the surface of the lagoon gave any inkling that it had been there at all. Now it was Ernest’s turn to look doubtful and Milli wondered if she really had been imagining things. She was so exhausted from their journey that perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her.

  It was just at this moment that they all sniffed an odour hanging in the air. To Ernest it was strangely familiar, although he could not quite put his finger on it.

  ‘Smell that?’ he said, more to himself than anyone else. Of course they could all smell it and it was growing stronger. ‘Smells a lot like…’ Ernest paused to be absolutely precise, ‘…like my mum’s salmon patties!’

  Although the others had never tasted Mrs Perriclof’s salmon patties, they imagined that this was exactly what they would smell like and suddenly felt very sorry for Ernest. Along with the smell, puddles of congealed liquid like molten metal were now appearing all around them. Ernest dipped his fingers into one. We all know the old adage that curiosity killed the cat and curiosity was not kind to Ernest either. His expression soon turned to one of dismay when he found that the silver slime would not come off and his fingers remained coated. Silver fingers would not have been so hard to live with, but Ernest quickly discovered that it was the iridescent slime giving off the fishy scent. If this was permanent, it could have serious social repercussions.

  As Ernest tried in vain to scrub his fingers, Nettle was watching the water eagerly as something sleek and pale glided past them. Milli, too, was completely entranced. Leo pulled them back as the creature came to a sudden halt. It seemed harmless enough, but, as they had already learned, nothing in the Lurid Lagoon could be befriended. The mist cleared and now they could see at least half a dozen smooth rocks all draped in sheets of the silvery gloop. Ernest shuddered and shoved his iridescent fingers deep into his trouser pocket.

  The rocks were strewn with long shapes, which from a distance appeared little more than pale outlines. The four adventurers were so engrossed in the sight before them that they did not notice the boat surging forward of its own accord. They were so deep in discussion about what these contours might be that only when they were so close they could have rubbed noses with the rocks, did they realise that the oars lay immobile at their feet. There was no turning back now. They had been seen and the shapes were beginning to move.

  The blue-haired creatures rolled over lazily to examine the newcomers, tails gleaming in the lunar light. Iridescent scales shimmered and their ivory skin looked as cold as marble. Their eyes glowed like headlamps in the darkness. Cobalt locks cascaded down bare shoulders, falling as far as tiny waists. The corners of their rosy mouths crinkled as they smiled in greeting. Leo and Nettle knew immediately that they had encountered the Nereids, children of the sea gods and legendary inhabitants of the Lurid Lagoon.

  Milli could not help laughing as the Nereids flicked their tails, playfully splashing water towards the gondola. She had often dreamed of riding on such a creature’s back and they were every bit as enchanting as legend described them. Nettle stared at their dainty hands spread flat on the rocks; no bigger than a child’s and as delicate as fine china. Ernest grinned as a blue-eyed Nereid with lashes as long as straws shook a shell from her hair and tossed it to him. Creamy pink ears were just visible under her swirling locks. He wondered why such graceful creatures would choose to live in such a terrible place. But as he couldn’t speak Mermish, there was no way of asking them. Leo was equally spellbound as one Nereid danced across the water, pulled a string of pearls from the lagoon and draped them around his neck. Milli, however, was not impressed with this flirtatious display and glared until the Nereid slunk guiltily away.

  The rest of the clan purred contentedly. It was the sort of sound a cat makes after lapping up a saucer of cream. A thin layer of white steam was rising from the rocks. They writhed gleefully and rubbed their scaly bodies against the stone, tails twitching. They basked as if they were lying on the sands of a tropical beach instead of hard stone. Milli splashed a rock face with water and it sizzled.

  ‘It must be like one big sauna,’ she said in amazement. But nobody heard her. The Nereids were gently caressing the palms of Leo, Nettle and Ernest. They had the sort of feather touch that makes you tingle all over and want nothing but to curl up and sleep.

  Before Milli could register that something wasn’t quite right, she felt cold fingers close over her own hand and soon the webbed embrace had her as well. As badly as she wanted to, Milli could not tear herself away from the Nereid’s touch. They were drawing her up onto the steaming rock. How good it would feel to dry herself and rest after the strenuous journey. She was so weary and their skin felt wonderfully cool against her burning, aching arms. The Nereid guided her towards a thick bed of steam. Milli’s eyelids drooped until she could no longer will them to stay open. Sleep was closing in, cloaking her in a dream and enticing her with its soft voice. The others were already gently snoring. Milli sighed under the blanket of woven seagrass that had been placed over her. The melodic lullaby in her ears, she allowed herself to be washed away by the tide of sleep.

  Milli had just drifted off when she was woken by a truly terrible stench. She opened her eyes to find herself staring into the puffy face of a particularly malodorous mermaid! When the creature realised that Milli was awake, she recoiled and cast an indignant glance at her companions.

  Milli sat bolt upright. She was well and truly alert now. This mermaid was certainly nothing out of a fairytale. For one thing, she was extremely hefty—as wide as a truck with great wobbles of lard that quivered whenever she moved. Her face was swollen, her features bloated and her hair sprang up from her head like a halo of spun wool. She prodded Milli in the chest with one blood-red claw and hissed
dangerously. Milli backed away, trying to work out what expression she wore underneath the inch thick layer of powder that caked her face. Despite looking like some sort of grotesque doll with her rouged cheeks, sparkly lips, and huge dark eyes swimming in turquoise dust, this Nereid was clearly in a position of authority. Milli had no time to speculate as to how a Nereid might acquire cosmetics because the claws were already reaching for her.

  In a flash, she was up and hauling Ernest to his feet. The commotion woke the others who struggled groggily from under their seagrass blankets. Leo rubbed the sleep from his eyes. ‘What’s that?’ he asked, taken aback by the sight of such an unprepossessing new arrival.

  In response, Milli jumped from the rock into the waiting gondola below, signalling the others to waste no time in following. They did just that, but Ernest, as usual, lost his footing on the slippery rock and tumbled headfirst into the boat. By now the hissing had struck up again and Milli could feel the power of its spell beginning to dull her senses. But the greedy glint in the fat matron’s eyes kept her on her toes.

  In the gondola, they were safely out of the Nereids’ slimy grasp. But there was a bigger problem. The children had nowhere to go! The boat was encircled by rocks. Stopping them from navigating between were the Nereids themselves waiting for the children to fall into their clutches if they tried to pass. They were surrounded.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  A Queen Called Griswalda

  Hissing wrathfully, the Nereids stretched their webbed hands towards the undulating gondola. Milli gave a sigh of relief when their arms could reach no further. But worse was to follow.