Crystal (11 page)

‘Poor thing!’

Crystal didn’t want to dwell on Stella. ‘I found the acorn, Mum, the one that came from Lop Lake.’

Effie looked puzzled. ‘I never had an acorn, did I?’

‘You did. You don’t remember. I’m sure the acorn sparked off your memory. Remember how happy you were when you found it? No, you don’t, but you were. And, you don’t know about this, Mum, but the sly-ugg’s changed. It’s much nicer.
That
started after the acorn came. I’m sure it did, because it didn’t tell Raek about you going to the lake and everything. It’s all connected. And, Mum, you’ll never believe it, but there was a message inside the acorn! It said—’

She stopped. The room had grown quiet and still; everyone was looking towards the door. There stood Raek.

Crystal saw a tiny movement out of the corner of her eye. The sly-ugg, which up until now had been listening closely, was inching under the table out of sight.

The prison guard pointed out Effie, and Raek moved towards her purposefully, weaving around the tables like a thin grey stick. Visitors and prisoners nodded and bowed as he walked past, and then quickly turned away to begin whispering again.

‘How kind of you to visit us,’ Crystal said. ‘I’m sorry we can’t offer you tea.’

‘Tut, tut, still very rude,’ Raek said shaking his head. ‘I didn’t come for tea, of course. I did warn you, Crystal,’ he went on, ‘and now your mother is in serious trouble. Stealing. Attempting to take a sly-ugg out of the Town. Lying. She can’t escape punishment.’

Effie didn’t look at him. She studied the dirty scratched wall and rocked backwards and forwards slowly.

‘Did she take that in?’ Raek asked Crystal. ‘Should I say it louder?’

‘She’s not deaf, just unwell,’ Crystal said quickly. ‘I can’t make her understand anything. She isn’t talking sense.’

Effie picked up the water jug and began pouring water into the glass and back again, in and out, and in and out.

‘She likes the sound the water makes,’ Crystal explained. ‘Sorry.’

‘It looked as if she was talking sense a moment ago,’ Raek snapped.

‘Oh, no, she wasn’t,’ Crystal said. ‘Nothing but rubbish.’ Her blue eyes challenged Raek to disagree.

He sighed. ‘Well – perhaps it’s for the best. If she knew what was going to happen to her … Grint, Bless and Praise his Name, wanted her sentence reduced because of her illness and the help she gives him, but the Elders felt that she should be made an example of and I agree. John Carter is very persuasive. Effie was initially charged with stealing the candlestick, for which the punishment is banishment to the mines. After a meeting, however, the Elders decided that her dabbling in black magic and witchcraft is a much worse offence and will bring a harsher punishment. Her implication in the death of that woman, Annie Scott, was the final straw.’

‘Mum never—’

But Raek blanked her out with his hand. ‘Silence.’

Crystal stood up. She felt herself trembling and put her hands on the table to steady herself. ‘Mum’s not well. It isn’t fair! It was me—’

‘She was well enough to steal. Well enough to concoct magic potions that kill. Well enough to try and put a spell on Grint, Bless and Praise his Name! Oh yes, she tried that all right with her moon moss and lichens, herbs and potions. She will be punished most severely! And,’ he added, pointing to the carry-box, ‘I’ll take that.’

‘Oh no, you can’t!’ Crystal said. ‘I mean, Grint, Bless and Praise his What’s It, told me that I had to bring
him
the sly-ugg. He was very clear about that. I promised—’

Raek smiled; he knew she was lying.

‘Thank you!’ He picked up the carry-box. ‘It’s very light!’ He peered through the mesh screen. ‘It’s empty! Where is the sly-ugg? Where are you hiding it? Give it back!’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Crystal said. ‘Of course we’re not hiding it! We hate it!’ But she was thrilled. The sly-ugg had made a getaway!

Raek called for the prison guards. ‘Make them tell us where it is! Make them give it back!’ Raek shouted. The guards ordered Crystal and Effie to take off their cloaks and shake out their skirts but there was no sign of the sly-ugg anywhere.

‘You don’t think I’d allow that horrible thing on me, do you?’ Crystal said. ‘It’s disgusting!’

‘I don’t know what you’re capable of doing to save yourself,’ Raek said. But finally he had to give up the search and admit that the sly-ugg had vanished. ‘We will find it. I’ll put out an alert. What
it
knows,
I
must know!’

He marched out. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

‘I’m not ill,’ Effie said as she kissed Crystal goodbye. ‘It’s just that the ice is melting. My brain is thawing. Don’t worry, my dear daughter. When I remember everything, when I know where to go, nothing will stop us from returning home.’

Effie’s eyes shone brilliantly, sparkling as if the sun were reflected in them. Her cheeks were flushed.

‘Everything will become clear.’

The girl at the bottom of the lake had vanished. All Questrid could see was the circle of dirty water far below and the twisted trees round it. He was cold and his hands, jacket cuffs and the end of his scarf were all soaking.

He gave up, scrambled onto the ice and lifted the raft out of the water behind him.

The stone acorn holder lay where it had landed. Questrid picked it up.

‘What an absolutely exquisite object,’ he said out loud. ‘A work of pure genius! I wonder which talented young sculptor could have made it?’ He chuckled. ‘I have never seen anything so totally brilliant!’

He carefully unscrewed the acorn from the cup. He was not surprised to find a strip of paper inside but he wasn’t expecting to see the messages written on it:

And on the other side, written in different handwriting:

Was that message from the girl he’d seen? HELP ME! Well, of course he would!

He left the raft at the lake’s edge, out of the way amongst some rocks in case he needed it again, and raced home on the sledge. However sick Greenwood was, he had to speak with him. He had to! That girl down there needed help.

As Questrid came to the last long slope that would take him home, he caught sight of something high up in the sky and stopped. It was big. Was it a snow albatross? A mountain macaw? He shielded his eyes against the sun … and stared and stared. A spark of excitement, a little thrill rippled through him. Could it be …? It did look like – Yes! It was! It was a
dragon
! And unless he was badly mistaken, it was the pixicles’ dragon, Boldly Seer!

The enormous purple and silvery dragon came closer and closer. It swooped low over Questrid, beating the snow into a storm cloud around him with its wings.

‘
Boldly Seer!
’ Questrid shouted, waving his arms.
‘Boldly Seer!’

The dragon circled gracefully one way, then the other, in a perfect figure of eight, before flying off towards Spindle House.

Seated on the dragon’s back were two small figures. Questrid recognized the red-hatted figure when it waved back to him. ‘Little Squitcher!’ he yelled. ‘Hello!’

The pixicles had meant to name the dragon Boadicea, after the fierce female warrior who rode chariots, but they’d got it a bit wrong and she was Boldly Seer. Questrid had ridden on her himself. He loved dragons. He dreamed of becoming a Dragon Master one day.

Boldly Seer sailed down the hill like a kite and Questrid followed almost as fast on his sledge. When they reached the flat ground, the dragon tucked up her feet and skidded neatly on her belly towards the gateway. At the final moment, just before she hit the wall, she spun round so it was her plump side that gently bumped the stones.

By the time Questrid reached them, the two ice pixicles were climbing down from the seat on Boldly Seer’s back and shaking off the snow from their clothes. They were only a little taller than knee-high, very pale-skinned and fair-haired.

‘Hello!’ Questrid yelled. ‘Hello!’ He swerved to a halt beside them and jumped off his sledge, dropping down to his knees to be level with them. ‘How fantastic to see you! What are you doing here?’

‘Greetings, Lanky Boy!’ Squitcher took off his red woolly hat and held out a tiny hand, like a mouse paw, to be shaken.

‘Welcome to Spindle House!’ Questrid said, trying not to crush the minuscule fingers. ‘Great to see you – and Boldly Seer.’

‘Ah yes, she is remembering you,’ Squitcher said. ‘You helped her before and a dragon never forgets – did you see how she play dive-bombed you? Oh yes, she remembers you and likes you too.’

The older pixicle stepped forward to shake hands. He had a tiny blob of a white beard on the end of his pointed chin, and crinkled-up translucent grey eyes. When he snatched off his blue hat, a cloud of puffy white hair billowed out.

‘Grampy, at your service,’ he said.

‘Would you like to come inside?’ Questrid asked them. ‘It’s lovely and warm and—’

‘No, no!’ squeaked Grampy. ‘We are not warm-loving pixies!’

‘Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.’

‘Don’t snap, Grampy,’ Squitcher said. ‘The Lanky Boy is only trying to be politely-respectful, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Questrid said. ‘It’s great to see you and I just thought we should go somewhere more
comfortable …
’ He was beginning to shiver because although he didn’t usually mind the cold, parts of him had been wet for ages and now he was kneeling in the snow so his knees were wet too.

‘We have come on a mission of greatly meaningful-importance,’ Squitcher said gravely. ‘If you are icy-cold and not comfortable at the present time, we must wait.’

‘Why don’t you come into the courtyard? You could sit on the bench? Oriole can probably find something for you to eat while I go and change clothes.’

‘A jolly-sounding jolly good idea!’ Squitcher said. ‘Boldly Seer is digging herself a nice bed-nest there by the wall. She will be fine for the night.’

‘
Night?
’

Squitcher smiled and raised his eyebrows questioningly. ‘Perhaps-maybe. We’ll see.’

While the pixicles settled down on the bench in the snow, Questrid explained to Robin and Oriole who their visitors were. Thunder and Lightning stopped munching hay and watched them with interest; they’d never seen anything like a pixicle before. Silver trotted out to sniff them thoroughly and give them a friendly lick.

Oriole handed out cold fizzy drinks and ice cream while Questrid ran up to his room to change. He could barely get his frozen fingers to do up buttons and pull on braces and woolly jumpers. He guessed the visit from the pixicles had to be important – as far as he knew they had never come to Spindle House before.

Wrapped up warmly, a mug of hot chocolate in his hand, he settled down to listen to their story.

‘When I was a young slip of a lad,’ Grampy began, ‘I was a hot-tempered fire-and-brimstone boy.’

‘Not like now, then,’ Squitcher said with a grin.

‘Hush! No joking-mockery matter! My anger was bubbling, boiling, scalding-hot. I see no reason to tell you why or give you details, Lanky Boy, but one day I did a terrible-bad thing …’ He paused to stroke his pointed ears nervously. ‘Oh, the shame, the shame!’

‘Never mind all that,’ Squitcher said. ‘Get on with your story, old man. We’re talking hundreds of Marble Mountains years ago. Shame’s all gone.’