Authors: Jasper Fforde
The Eye of Zoltar (35 page)
‘Okay, then,’ she said, taking a deep breath, and wiping away her tears, ‘I accept all the responsibilities of my birthright, and will not rest until the perpetrator of this foul deed is brought to justice. But I will not be calling myself Queen until I am once more in full command of my lands and people. Help me up, will you? I think I’ve got cramp.’
We helped her up and sat on a bench, all four of us, and watched the black smoke drifting across the distant countryside. The Princess broke the silence.
‘Jennifer,’ she said, ‘I should like you to be Royal Counsel.’
‘With respect, ma’am,’ I said, ‘I’m only sixteen. That’s a job usually reserved for grey hair – someone with experience.’
‘Nonsense,’ said the Princess, ‘you have plenty of experience, and what’s more – I trust you completely and know you will always do the right thing. You accept?’
‘I accept, ma’am.’
She thanked me, smiled, and looked at her hands. The left was still raw and calloused from the previous owner’s years of toil, and the other was the hand of the ex-stoker, with ‘No more pies’ tattooed on the back, and held on with duct tape. It wasn’t an ideal situation, and as far as we knew it, a first for royalty.
‘This is my body now, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, I think it is.’
‘Then I’d better start looking after it. Tell me, Jenny, am I horribly plain?’
I looked at her pale, sun-starved face, her brown hair, which was still lank with undernourishment, and her dark-rimmed eyes.
‘It’s not the outside that counts, ma’am.’
It was too dangerous to cross the border until we knew more about what was happening, so we stayed put. I tried over and over again to reach Kazam on the conch, but with no success.
The road to the border was soon packed full of refugees, vehicles and medical personnel tending to any wounded who had managed to escape across the border. Tharv, true to his cherished principles of unpredictability, had welcomed the refugees from the Kingdom of Snodd, and from the garbled reports of the inrush of displaced citizens, we managed to piece together broadly what had happened.
The Snoddian Royal Family were, as we had feared, killed when the Palace was destroyed. But it was worse than that: the victors had displayed their heads upon poles outside the shattered remnants of the palace, and fed their corpses to wolves, for fun. We also learned that the war had not been solely against the Kingdom of Snodd. Of the twenty-eight nations within the unUnited Kingdoms, all but nine were now overrun, or had surrendered. Information was scarce but it seemed that Financia had been spared owing to the fact that it was a centre of banking, the Duchy of Portland Bill had been defended successfully thanks to their deep moat, and the seagoing nation of the Isle of Wight had been away conducting sea trials in the North Atlantic.
It was hard to describe the chaos in which we found ourselves as we walked up to the border. Homeless people had grabbed what they could before fleeing, and mothers desperately searched for husbands, their children clinging on tightly with a look of numb terror upon their faces. There were casualties, too – soldiers with appalling wounds being treated as best they could – and among all this, the Cambrian Gunners lay waiting, their weapons trained upon the invaders, poised to return fire if attacked.
For the invaders
were
there, sitting outside the Snoddian customs post on the other side of the River Wye, doing nothing, awaiting orders. The larger members of the group were six in total and each about twenty-five feet tall, dressed only in a loincloth and heavy battle bootees. The Trolls’ skin was covered in elaborate tattoos, each had a dead goat decorating its copper war helmet, and their small, cruel eyes stared at us greedily.
‘Trolls,’ hissed the Princess when we saw them, ‘I hate Trolls.’
‘And not alone,’ said Addie, ‘look.’
The other members of the group she indicated were fewer in number and stature, and looked like nothing more than businessmen in dark suits and sunglasses. The group had planted two flags in the ground denoting their allegiance and the extent of their new territories. The Troll flag was obvious, but the second standard gave me a shock. It had the sign of the flaming footprint: the Mighty Shandar.
‘I can’t see from this distance,’ said Addie, ‘but I’ll bet good money there’s nothing in those suits.’
‘Hollow Men,’ said the Princess, ‘presumably there to relay orders from their master to the Troll warriors.’
‘The Mighty Shandar,’ said Boo, ‘as treacherous as he is arrogant. Despite all that he has done, I never trusted him. Not one inch.’
‘But Kevin Zipp was right,’ I said, ‘the next Troll War was going to be when least expected. It would be bloody, short, and the aggressors would be victorious. Sadly, the “victorious aggressors” weren’t us – they were the Trolls.’
‘It explains why Tiger and Moobin were so keen for us to find the Eye of Zoltar,’ said the Princess. ‘To defeat him we’re going to need some serious magical power of our own.’
‘It also explains why Moobin was telling you that the Princess needed to be protected at all costs,’ said Addie. ‘A defeated nation needs leadership.’
‘I think they would have fought bravely,’ said the Princess, ‘my parents, the army, everyone at Kazam.’
‘They’d have fought to the death,’ I said, ‘even the really strange ones.’
‘They could be still alive,’ said the Princess, ‘we don’t know anything yet.’
‘I hope so,’ I replied, ‘but—’
‘Jenny?’
I started. It was Tiger’s voice. Very faint, but unmistakable.
‘I can hear Tiger’s voice now,’ I said, ‘it must be a last shout from the astral plane before he passed to the other side – or something.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Addie, ‘because I can hear it too.’
It was the conch.
‘Tiger?’ I said after hurriedly removing the large shell from my bag, ‘Where are you?’
‘Thank goodness,’ he said in a relieved tone, ‘Shandar has finally stopped jamming the Conchways – probably because he thinks we’re all dead. I’m in the basement of Zambini Towers along with the Quarkbeast, Mabel, the Mysterious X, and Monty Vanguard.’
I heard a Quark in the background.
‘Okay,’ I said, ‘if it’s safe to do so, stay put. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
‘We don’t really have a choice,’ said Tiger, ‘we’re trapped. I think the building has collapsed above us.’
Tiger explained as much as he knew. Shandar had returned to the Kingdom of Snodd, and he had brought the Trolls with him. He was clearly not worried about the Dragon refund, because no one would be there to demand one. It seemed he had been biding his time all these years, remaining in stone for centuries until the moment was right to strike and strike hard. The previous four Troll Wars were not wars at all, but a series of warm-ups – preparing the Trolls for the ultimate invasion.
‘Shandar targeted Kazam before the war began’ said Tiger, ‘Kevin Zipp was kidnapped so we couldn’t see it coming, and Kazam was hit first the morning of the invasion. Feldspar came back from Princess duty to rescue us, but could only carry away one at a time. Moobin was first. I don’t know if anyone else made it out.’
‘Any idea why he had me look for the Eye of Zoltar?’
‘To get you out the way, Lady Mawgon thought. You’ve bested him once before, and we think he’s actually quite frightened of you.’
‘I’m going to make sure of that,’ I said, ‘what about you guys?’
Tiger explained that there was ample food and water as they were in the basement kitchens. As far as they were concerned they were safe for the time being – they had heard the Trolls up above searching through the rubble, but they had moved on. I told him to sit tight, and not to use the conch in case Shandar decided to listen in, and I’d said I’d organise a rescue party as soon as I could.
‘At least we know Moobin is safe,’ said Once Magnificent Boo. ‘We will need many people to retake the Kingdoms.’
‘I hate to be a party-pooper at times like these,’ I said, ‘but with what are we going to retake the Kingdoms? We are a vanquished nation without an army, without weapons and, at present, without ideas.’
‘We have hope,’ said Addie, ‘and a sense of moral outrage and natural justice. We will retake the Kingdoms, no matter what it costs.’
‘I second that,’ said Boo. ‘Dark magic never triumphs. We will rally what sorcerers we can, and build up an army from scratch if we have to. We have my limited powers, your leadership, the Princess as a figurehead and Addie’s unique survival skills. Moobin is still around somewhere and we also have the terrifying possibility of harnessing the awesome power of the Eye of Zoltar.’
We were silent for a moment. Things didn’t seem so bleak after all.
‘Holy smoke,’ came a voice behind us, ‘I feel like I’ve slept with a spare wheel in my mouth.’
It was Colin. He had reverted to normal, still strapped on the roof of the Volkswagen. That might have seemed unusual, but given the surrounding chaos, no one was paying us any attention at all.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Once Magnificent Boo, ‘we also have two Dragons.’
I am hugely indebted for the editorial assistance of both Carolyn Mays and Katy Rouse of Hodder, and Jeanette Larson of Houghton-Mifflin-Harcourt. Once again, their attention to detail and unfailing support permitted me to complete this book vaguely on time. My thanks to you all.
My thanks also to Roger Mason, who undertook the task of completing the frontispiece at short notice and not only satisfied my brief, but added much more besides. Roger’s talents extend to not just freelance illustrating but storyboard and graphic novels. Like me, he is also a big fan of illustrator Kevin O’Neill. Roger can be found at
www.looksgoodonpaper.co.uk
.
My thanks would not be complete without mention of Simon Pettifar for his invaluable companionship and words of wisdom, and to my family, for their continued support – especially the youngest two, whose continued drain on my resources will keep me motivated for many years to come.
Finally, to Ozzy, whose boundless enthusiasm for stick retrieval and walks keeps me well exercised.
Jasper Fforde, January 2014
Jasper Fforde is the critically acclaimed author of The Last Dragonslayer series:
The Last Dragonslayer
and
The Song of the Quarkbeast, Shades of Grey
, the Nursery Crime books:
The Big Over Easy
and
The Fourth Bear
and the Thursday Next novels:
The Eyre Affair
,
Lost in a Good Book
,
The Well of Lost Plots
,
Something Rotten
,
First Among Sequels
,
One of Our Thursdays is Missing
and
The Woman Who Died a Lot
.
After giving up a varied career in the film world, he now lives and writes in Wales, and has a passion for aviation.
To find out more, visit:
www.facebook.com/jasperffordebooks
.
