Mirrorscape (26 page)

The baby spotted Billet as they came nearer. Its face first registered a look of curiosity, which soon changed to one of consternation and then petulance. It screwed up its podgy features and opened its mouth wide in a howl. But instead of noise something else came from its throat.

A monster!

Behind the emerging creature's swordfish snout was a warty, lizard body tipped with a venomous scorpion sting. It was borne aloft on butterfly-patterned bat wings.

‘That looks like – '

‘I do believe it is, Ambrosius. It's one of my monsters.'

The baby screamed its silent scream again.

‘And one of yours too.'

The second monster that flew at them definitely had some stag beetle and dragonfly present, but the overall theme was undoubtedly spider, with more than a hint of wasp in its pointed abdomen. ‘They're setting our own creations against us!'

‘Monster time again is it?' boomed Billet. ‘All right. Let's be ‘aving yer, yer flying fatheads.'

The creatures flew around Billet twice and then attacked. The first monster hurled itself towards them where they watched from the library window. Billet shook with the impact as a long snout penetrated the wall, barely missing the masters and stopping just inches from the sleeping friends. Mel awoke with a start, but had the presence of mind not to leap up. He lay on his back, staring at the lethal spike just above him. Then the library window shattered as the creature's scorpion tail thrust into the room, its deadly tip thrashing and searching for something to sting. Drops of amber venom
dripped from its end, searing the floorboards like acid. There was another impact away from the window, followed by the ominous sound of gnawing. The second creature was using its powerful mandibles to chew through the wall.

‘
Ahem!
If everyone would care to move to the far side of the library.' Swivel's face rotated to one wearing welding goggles, and a cutting torch appeared from his sleeve. Its flame roared into life and a cone of fierce blue light stabbed the twilight. Carefully avoiding the probing sting, the butler crossed to where the sword-like snout pierced the wall and, amid a shower of bright sparks, deftly cut it off. There was a great howl of pain and the monster dropped to the desert floor.

The butler's masked face swivelled away and he extinguished the torch and drew it into his sleeve, replacing it with a long auger. He put his ear to the wall, gauging where the gnawing sound was loudest. Satisfied he had found the spot, he set the augur spinning and began drilling. He lurched forward as the drill reached the far side of the wall. There was another wail as the giant insect felt the auger's bite and fell off the house.

Wren hesitantly peered down from the broken window at the two bodies lying on the sand. ‘They're dead. They've lost their colour and … they're
vanishing
!'

Mel joined her. ‘It looks like someone else has got their hands on some iconium.'

‘Yeah. And rather more than we had,' said Ludo. ‘
Look!
'

From out of the gaping mouth of the babe came another monster; bigger, uglier and infinitely more dangerous.

‘We're so close to home,' said Wren. ‘And this time we've nothing left to fight back with.'

‘If only we had some ordinary materials,' said the master. ‘It'd take longer to create our riposte, but at least we could go down fighting.'

Mel looked at the wall of mist.
It's not far. I can do it
. ‘Let me try to get through, Master. I know how to use the mirrormark. I could bring back the materials from the mansion.'

‘Me too,' said Wren. ‘I can help. Between us we could bring back easels and brushes and oils and colours – as much as you like. Ludo will help us as well. Won't you?'

Ludo nodded unenthusiastically.

‘Ambrosius?' said Lucas Flink. ‘It's probably our only hope.'

‘Very well. You've all been in the Mirrorscape a while now. If you're not feeling unwell already, you will be soon. You need to get out for a spell anyway. Take Swivel with you.'

‘I believe Swivel will be of more use here. Take my angels.' Lucas Flink turned to his creations. ‘You two, keep an eye on them.'

‘
Great!
' said Farris and Bathor as one. ‘A chance for more mischief.'

‘Right, off you go. But take care. I don't wish to lose you now; not after all we've been through.' The master smiled at the three friends.

Mel, Wren, Ludo, Farris and Bathor raced down the stairs. At the bottom, Mel signalled them to halt. ‘It's dark outside. Two shining angels are going to give us away. Here, put these on.' He unhooked two hooded travelling cloaks hanging next to the door.

An enormous two-headed dragon was busy attacking the house from the front as the small party dashed from
the postern door in Billet's scorched heel. They ran to the wall of mist, using the deep shadows cast by the giant heads as cover.

‘Look at the baby,' gasped Wren.

Its giant profile towered over them. As they watched, they saw the whole of its side vanish. It, too, had been created with iconium. There were two people inside, lit by a dozen tall candelabra. A tall, skinny man loomed over Groot. The head apprentice stood before an easel copying monsters on to a large canvas from a book open on a lectern to one side. To his right was a smaller easel with the image of the baby on it.

The thin man looked up and pointed to the transparent patch. ‘If you concentrated as much on keeping us hidden as you do on your monsters, I'd feel a lot happier.'

Groot glanced up. For a terrible moment Mel thought he had seen them, but soon realised that he was only regarding the flaw in his masking illusion. Groot spooned some iconium from the nearly full chest at his side. He mixed it and applied some to the portrait of the baby with one desultory swipe of his brush. ‘Happy now?' The
giant baby became opaque again, but not before Mel saw Groot pocketing a handful of the priceless pigment while the other man's back was turned.

‘It's
Groot
creating the monsters,' said Wren.

‘He's just copying them from a book,' said Ludo. ‘No originality.'

‘Yeah, but more importantly, did you see how much iconium he's got to work with? Come on, we must hurry.' Mel led them, crouching, to the wall of mist, made the reverse mirrormark and they were through.

Their sense of relief was palpable as they reemerged into the daylight in the master's studio directly opposite the canvas through which they had left. The knot of anxiety that had been in Mel's stomach ever since he entered the Mirrorscape unravelled. They began to laugh and they felt the strength returning to them as the Mirrorscape sickness flushed from their bodies. They began collecting together materials.

‘We should warn the Rainbow Rebels,' said Mel. ‘I'll go and tie the signal on to the dragon.'

‘We'll all go,' said Wren. ‘We ought to get some bandages and things from the infirmary to take back.'
Wren quickly led them to the service passage and ushered them inside before the angels could think up some new mischief.

‘Wait; we'll need some candles,' she suddenly remembered

‘Allow us,' said Bathor. The angels removed their hooded cloaks and lit up the narrow space, enabling Wren to lead them to the entrance hall. From there they entered the clock without being seen. Mel tore a strip from his sash and tied it around the neck of the miniature dragon. As he was doing so, his elbow dislodged the figure next to it. The knight tottered and fell to the floor, snapping its head off.

Wren knelt by the broken figure. ‘I'll need to fix it before the clock chimes again. Its absence is bound to get noticed and someone will come to investigate.'

‘While you do that I'll go and get the stuff from the infirmary,' said Ludo.

‘Use the service passages,' said Wren. ‘Meet us in the master's studio.'

‘We'll go with you,' said Farris.

‘To light the way,' added Bathor.

When they were alone, Mel retrieved the head, which had rolled under the machinery. ‘They're beautiful figures. Did you really design them yourself?'

‘Certainly I did. I designed them and my father cast them.'

‘They're lighter than they look.' Mel picked up and hefted the body of the figure in his other hand.

‘They're hollow. Look in the knight.'

Mel suddenly remembered what Wren's father had said. ‘“Look in the knight?”
Wren
, that's the message your father gave me for you. Remember?'

‘I thought he meant night, like in night-time,' said Wren, looking inside the head. ‘There's something in here.' She withdrew a paper and unfolded it. ‘It's my father's handwriting.

‘“Dearest Wren. If you are reading this, it means that a great misfortune has befallen our family and I am no longer around to care for you and your mother. A while ago, Lord Floris, a great lover of clocks and a good friend, gave me something precious to look after for him. I do not understand its nature but I know that it is of great value and power. He told me that if ever
something bad were to happen to him, or if I found myself in danger of arrest, then I was to pass it to Ambrosius Blenk. He can be trusted to use it for the good of everyone in Nem. I now know that that time is near. A close friend of Lord Floris's in the House of Mysteries has warned me that I am about to be taken. I do not know why and I do not have much time. I have tried and failed to pass this thing to Ambrosius and now I fear I will be caught with it still in my possession. Under no circumstances must it be allowed to fall into the hands of the Fifth Mystery. I have hidden it here in the certain knowledge that you will be looking after this great timepiece that you love so much and will eventually find it. It is too late for me but I beg you to pass it to the great master. Know that wherever I am, my thoughts are with you. Kiss your mother for me. Your loving father, Thomas Delf.”' Wren stared at the letter in silence.

‘I'm sorry, Wren.' Mel placed his hand on hers and gave it a squeeze. He looked in the body of the figure. ‘There's a bag in here.' He pulled the small sack out and loosened the drawstring that fastened it, tipping a little of its contents into his open hand.

‘Mel! It's
iconium
!'

‘Yeah, it is.' Mel carefully poured it back into the bag, refastened it and handed it to her. ‘Here, you take it. We should go.'

When they arrived at the master's studio, the door was ajar and sitting in the ornate chair was Green. His head was bandaged and he looked haggard. In his lap rested the bloody and lifeless figure of his tiny, piebald creature. Mel pushed the door open a fraction more. Standing next to Green were Ludo and the angels. Ludo looked up at him in alarm.

‘Run, Mel! They're going to kill you!'

Out of the Frying Pan …

Mel grabbed Wren's wrist and pulled her back down the corridor but blocking their way was Blue, with two other rebels. They had their crossbows levelled at the youngsters' heads.

‘That's far enough. Back inside,
traitor
,' said Blue. ‘Keep your hands where I can see them.'

Green shifted painfully in his chair. ‘You've got a nerve to turn up here. But it saves us having to hunt you down like the two-faced cur you are.'

‘I don't understand.' Mel looked around, suddenly very afraid. There were four more wounded rebels leaning in the corner, so bloodied that he hardly recognised them. They stared at him with an unblinking gaze, charged with malice. On the floor between them, bound and gagged and struggling, was Jurgis in his red robes. His face still bore sucker marks like oversized measles.

‘Don't play the innocent with me,' said Green. ‘We
know what you've been up to. I should have let Blue slit your gizzard the first time we met.'

‘I think there's been some mistake. I've not been – '

‘Oh, there's no mistake. I have a confession signed by your own hand.' Green pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from inside his bloodstained jerkin and held it up for all to see. It was Mel's sketch of the mirrormark.

Ludo said, ‘
No!
' He was deathly white.

‘Your friend's guilty all right.' Green pointed to the signature in the lower right-hand corner. ‘Your name's Melkin Womper, isn't it? Or are you going to deny that too?'

‘No, the drawing's mine.' Mel fought to control his breathing.

‘So you admit it?' said Green. ‘You
are
a traitor.'

‘No. Someone stole it from my locker in the dormitory.' Mel heard himself. He sounded very lame.

‘He's lying,' said Blue. ‘How else would the Fifth Mystery have known where to find us? He's the only one to have been to our hideout.'

‘The Fifth Mystery found you?' ‘Don't pretend you don't know,' said Green. ‘They
were waiting in ambush for us beneath the House of Thrones. They killed most of my men. We're all that's left. Eight of us. The entire Rainbow Rebellion is here in this room. Now you're going to pay for it. You'll pay for it in blood.' He lay the still body of his creature on the floor beside him.

‘This can't be true,' said Wren.

Ludo's eyes darted around the room. He was sweating.

‘But I didn't tell anyone!' Mel was seized from behind and forced to his knees. His hair was grabbed and his head yanked backwards. A hand – Blue's hand – held a knife to his bared throat. Mel whimpered as he felt its cold, sharp edge, and a trickle of warm blood run down his neck as the blade was pressed against his flesh. ‘We're on the same side. Why won't you believe me?'

The angels tried to push forward.

‘You two. Stay where you are,' ordered Blue. He twitched the knife. Mel's eyes grew wide with terror and an involuntary moan escaped his lips.

Wren cried out. ‘
Don't!
'

‘Shut up! Or are you in this too?' asked Green.

‘No one's in this. Not me and especially not Mel. He's been with us all the time. He couldn't have betrayed you.'

‘She's covering up for him.' Blue pressed his blade harder against Mel's throat, making him cry out.

‘No, I'm not. If you only knew what Mel's been through, trying to rescue the master. If we don't get back to him soon he'll be killed.'

Green looked hard at Wren. His expression was stony. ‘I don't believe you.' Then to Blue, ‘We're wasting time. Kill him.'

‘
No!
' screamed Ludo. ‘Mel didn't betray you.
I
did!'

‘
What?
' said Wren.

‘Ludo?' Mel's jaw dropped and he tried to turn his head towards his friend before it was yanked back by Blue.

‘It won't work, son. Your friend's going to die.' Green nodded at Blue. ‘Do it!'

‘No, it
was
me!' insisted Ludo. ‘Groot made me do it. He's been blackmailing me. His uncle was going to arrest my family if I didn't help him. I'm sorry, Mel. I told him everything you told me – about the
rebels' camp and everything. I took the drawing from your hiding place. That's how Groot got into the Mirrorscape.'

‘I thought you were our friend,' said Wren.

‘I'm
sorry
, Wren. I had no choice. Groot followed us all the way. He must have shown Mel's sketch to his uncle. Ask
him
if you don't believe me.' He pointed at Jurgis.

Green nodded at the men guarding the renegade apprentice and one of them bent and loosened his gag. ‘Well?'

‘He's lying. Smell's one of us, has been all along. He gave Groot the sketch with his own hands.' Jurgis's eyes darted shiftily from side to side.

Jurgis's guard drew his dagger and held it at the boy's throat.

‘Let's hear it again. The truth, this time,' said Green.

The dagger bit deeper. ‘All right, all right. Don't hurt me. It's true. Smell's got nothing to do with it. Ludo's been helping Groot from the start. Just don't hurt me.' He started crying.

Green looked at Jurgis long and hard. ‘That's better.'
Then to Blue, ‘Release Mel. There's our traitor.' He pointed at Ludo.

Blue let Mel go and grabbed Ludo savagely by the throat. ‘Why you little …. Don't think I have any qualms about killing youngsters.'

‘
Stop!
Don't do it.' Mel tried to force himself between Blue and Ludo. Another rebel dragged him away.

‘Give me one good reason why not,' spat Blue. He gripped Ludo harder still until his eyes bulged.

‘
Please
wait,' pleaded Mel. ‘We all know how the Fifth Mystery works. This is just what they want; to see us destroying ourselves. Put yourself in Ludo's place. What if they threatened
your
family? And there's a battle going on in there.' He pointed emphatically to the canvas of “The Empire of Sleep” leaning against the wall. ‘The master is fighting for his life while we're here fighting amongst ourselves. We have to get back to him at once.'

‘We need brushes and oils and easels,' said Wren. ‘And we need every artist we have to fight what's in there. Including Ludo. The Fifth Mystery's got a terrible weapon.'

‘That's right,' said Bathor, ‘terrible.'

Farris nodded.

‘You'd better believe it,' said Mel. ‘They can create as many monsters as they want. If we just stay here they'll have won. With the master out of the way, the Mysteries will never be stopped.'

‘So, they got hold of the iconium after all,' said Green.

‘You know about that?' said Mel.

‘We knew they were trying to get some,' he said. ‘The most recent escapees from Kig told us of Brool's special mining team. There's only one thing they could have been looking for. So, Ambrosius Blenk's in danger, is he?'

Mel looked anxiously at the canvas and then back at Green. ‘He's as good as dead if we don't act at once. The master and Lucas Flink and Swivel. If we go now we'll be behind the Mystery men. You can take them by surprise – ambush them like they ambushed you. They'll be so busy attacking the master they won't be expecting you. But we must go at once.
Please
.'

Green shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his
forehead creased with pain and indecision.

Blue looked at his leader, uncertain what to do. ‘Boss?'

Green looked at Mel. ‘Ordinary colours are no match for iconium – but you're right. We've got to try.' He nodded at Blue. ‘All right, let him go.'

Blue relaxed his grip and Ludo gulped in air.

Green said, ‘We can deal with this one later.' He looked at Ludo. ‘But someone better stick by him, just in case.'

‘Let me,' said Blue. ‘If he so much as looks the wrong way, I'll put his eyes out.' He released Ludo, who slumped to the floor, clutching his throat and gasping for air.

‘No. I'm more badly hurt than you. I'll stay with him.' Green got painfully to his feet. ‘All right, Mel. Let's go. You, come here.' He grabbed Ludo roughly by his collar.

‘Is this why you've been acting so strange ever since we entered the Mirrorscape?' said Wren. ‘You should have told us earlier. We could've helped.'

‘I couldn't,' croaked Ludo. ‘I just couldn't. I'm so sorry.'

Mel looked at his friend. ‘I know how you feel. The Fifth Mystery's got my parents.'

‘
What?
' gasped Ludo. ‘How do you know?'

Mel told him what he had told Wren earlier. ‘The only way we're going to get them back is to see this thing through to the end.'

‘I had no idea, Mel,' said Ludo. ‘I've been selfish. Tell me what I can do to put things right. I'll do anything.
Anything
.'

‘It's OK, Ludo. Let's just finish this thing together.'

‘Mel's right,' said Wren. ‘Let's stick together from now on.'

‘Right,' said Green. ‘Blue, you take the men and attack the Mystery. I'll go with this lot and get the materials to Ambrosius. Good luck.'

As soon as they stepped back through the canvas, they could see that the enemy was winning. Dozens of flying, wraith-like creatures were surrounding Billet, attacking and retreating, only to attack again. Their forms were vaguely human and looked to be made from red-hot coals bound together with dirty cobwebs. Wherever
they touched was seared black. The giant baby gurgled with pleasure as it stared at the beleaguered house from across the expanse of red sand.

Billet looked to be in an advanced state of demolition. One of the great studio windows that served as his eyes, and most of the wall surrounding it, was missing, the interior open to the desert air. Flames and black smoke billowed from the other. He was stamping his giant feet in the hope of crushing his attackers but it was haphazard, and obvious he could no longer see. ‘Is that the best yer can do, pip-squeak?' he croaked, his voice nearly unrecognisable.

Blue led his men silently through the dunes behind the baby to await their moment to enter the camp from the rear.

Groot had made no effort to disguise the back of his hide, nearest the wall of mist. Mel could clearly see him and his companion in the strange studio inside the hollow baby.

‘Here, do this creature next,' said the tall man as he turned the pages of the bestiary.

‘How dare you tell me what to do, you emaciated
streak of snot! I'll decide what to paint next, not some jumped-up flunky.' Groot threw down his paintbrush and folded his arms, stubbornly refusing to continue.

‘Have some more wine. It might improve your temper,' said Skim, proffering the bottle. ‘No? If you don't want any more then I might as well pour it away.'

‘Wait!' Groot held out his goblet and drained it greedily once it had been filled. ‘More.' He held out the empty vessel again.

‘Can we continue now? Or have you run out of inspiration?'

‘What would the likes of you know about art?'

‘Not much – but I know what I like. And what I like is more monsters. Now, if you want some more wine let's see another one.'

Mel could see from the way Groot tipped the chest to recharge his palette with the iconium that he had used up most of it. ‘Come on,' he said, ‘we've seen enough here.' He led the others towards Billet, making use of the giant heads that rose out of the sand as cover. Carrying their bundles of materials, they got as close as they could without being observed.

‘We're not going to make it across the last patch of sand without being seen,' said Green.

‘We will if we're quick,' said Wren. ‘Look at the wraiths.' As she spoke, the highly fugitive pigment that had created them started to fade and, one by one, they blinked out of existence. ‘Come on.'

Mel, Ludo and Wren bolted for the postern door. Much to Farris' annoyance, Bathor left his fellow angel to help Green while he spiralled up into the air and wreaked some serious devilry on the last of the fading wraiths.

There was so much smoke drifting over the desert battlefield that the Mystery men could not have seen them from their camp. When they entered Billet, they found his interior also filled with smoke, but they made it up the stairs to the library where Swivel had constructed a barricade in one corner from a mountain of books.

‘Hello! Master?'

At Mel's shout three smoke-blackened faces appeared over it.

‘Womper! We thought you'd never get back. Did
you bring all we need? Who's that with you?'

‘It's me, Ambrosius.'

‘Green? Is that you? Damn this smoke. Did you bring your men?'

‘They're out there now – what's left of them – preparing a nasty surprise for Brool and his men. Things don't look good, Ambrosius.'

‘It's just as well you came. We could use another artist.'