Maddigan's Fantasia (28 page)

And suddenly – there it was again … that tingling that she knew so well by now. And sure enough, there before her the air was rippling. The silver girl was trying to take form. But this time, for some reason, there was something hesitant about the way she was emerging … and though it was hard to be sure, her wavering expression seemed to be one of anxiety. Still at last, there she was, struggling, drifting a bit on one side, but
there
– stamping her foot and then fading immediately as if she could not make herself as real, as true, as she needed to be. Then she was gone.

Garland stared up … stared down and then seeing nothing began to turn away. Why? She was asking herself. There must have been a reason … there was always a reason … but what could it be? The girl had not pointed out any direction. She had done nothing but stamp her foot.

Stamp her foot. Garland paused and stared at the ground where the girl had stamped, and now she was looking carefully, she noticed the ground over there was somehow disturbed. Clods of earth made an uneven patch – a freshly turned patch only vaguely visible among the grass. If it had not been for the stamping of that silver foot she would certainly have missed it. Feeling suddenly alert, sure she had been given a clue to something, Garland looked down at the turned earth, kicking some of it away. The soil, soft and loose, surrendered; the clods lifted easily. And then, suddenly vivid, a little scarlet tongue licked up out of the ground at her.

It wasn’t really a tongue of course. It was the corner of a red scarf or something similar. Garland, stared, bent down and tugged at it, but though the soil had yielded the scarf (if it was a scarf) it did not give in. It was wrapped around something further under the ground, something that would not yield … something that seemed to ask her to discover it. She looked around and saw the Fantasia busy around her, then set off looking for the van Tane often travelled in, because there she was sure she would find a spade.

Yves, looking tired and deeply worried, drove the food van back to the Fantasia camp, with other Fantasia men wandering after him. Boomer trotted along, thinking about the wings. In a way he had stolen them, but after all, he argued all over again, the Birdboys owed them something. They had stolen Fantasia food.

‘I might fly,’ he was thinking, and was filled with secret excitement, as he imagined himself looping through the air and maybe beating his drum as well. ‘It might be useful to have a sort of Fantasia Birdboy. Tane could help me.’ To his secret astonishment he found he was rather missing that Birdboy, and he could not work out why. They had known one another for about ten minutes. There had been no time for them to become friends. Perhaps it was simply that he had a vague feeling that, in other circumstances, at some other time, they
might
have been friends.

Boomer ran a little way to catch up with Timon. ‘Pity not to get the converter,’ said Timon, strolling easily beside the van, and it seemed to Boomer that, although Timon was looking concerned and anxious, there was a strange mocking echo at the back of his voice.

‘What could they have done with it?’ Yves cried sideways through the van window. ‘And what would they want it for?
They can’t use it in any way. A converter just couldn’t mean anything to the Birdboys.’

‘Perhaps they thought they might trade it or sell it to someone,’ suggested Timon, and now Boomer thought he could see a faint suggestion of a smile at the corners of Timon’s mouth, as if he were having a private joke at the expense of the Fantasia.

‘He’s making fun of us,’ thought Boomer, but he knew he could not prove it.

‘Sell it?’ asked Tane, a few steps ahead of Boomer. ‘Who would they sell it to? Do you think Birdboys would buy a converter? No, the Birdboys were after food – that’s all.’

‘But the converter
has
gone,’ persisted Timon.

‘Don’t remind me!’ groaned Yves. ‘Here we are! Home again. Because this is home for the next hour or two.’

Boomer charged forward, happy to see the Fantasia once more – glad to see it was intact and getting around things in its usual way. But, as he went ahead, he saw … he thought he just glimpsed … out there among the trees a familiar figure ducking from view. He thought he had seen Maska … Maska so close to the Fantasia that any stranger would have imagined he was yet another Fantasia man.

‘Hey,’ he began, but the van was stopping and people were crowding around it. There was Maddie … there was Garland both pelting towards them. Garland had a strange look on her face as if she were about to burst out with exciting news.

‘Did you find the converter?’ she shouted with a strange smile on her face.

‘Did you find the converter?’ Maddie asked too, just a word or two behind Garland.

‘No!’ snapped Yves. ‘I didn’t!’

‘I know you didn’t!’ cried Garland. ‘Because I did!’ She waved a scarlet scarf at him. ‘
I
found it.’

‘You found it?
You?
I can’t believe it!’ yelled Yves. He jumped from the van. He flung his arms around Garland and hugged her. ‘Did she really?’ he cried to Maddie.

‘She did indeed. Our heroine!’ Maddie said.

‘Where on earth did you find it?’ Yves asked Garland.

‘
In
earth not
on
earth! It was buried – buried over
there
!’ cried Garland waving the scarlet neck scarf over towards the trees. ‘It was buried, and
this
was tied around the top of the box.’

‘Hey! That’s mine,’ Yves said, sounding as if he could scarcely believe it, and stepping back as if he were afraid she might flick him with it.

‘I suppose anyone who steals a converter could steal a scarf,’ said Tane. ‘Let’s make for Solis before we run into more trouble.’

‘Yes, but wait a moment,’ said Yves. ‘This makes it look as if one of us took it. But who would do such a thing?’

‘Your scarf, mate,’ said Nye.

Yves whirled on him. ‘Are you suggesting I did it?’ he cried incredulously.

‘Not seriously,’ Nye said, throwing up his hands. ‘It’s just that …’

‘No one’s suggesting such a thing,’ said Maddie. ‘We’re only saying that it’s strange.’

‘Why would I even think of doing it?’ asked Yves, still angry.

‘You might want to sell it secretly,’ suggested Garland. Almost immediately she was ashamed of herself for suggesting such a thing even in fun. Yves glared down at her.

‘Or
you
could have done it,’ he said. ‘Everyone knows you’ve got it in for me. You were in the same van as the converter, weren’t you? And you were the one to find it. Oh, very convenient!’

‘I wouldn’t do anything like that!’ shrieked Garland. ‘Anyhow that box was really heavy to carry.’

‘So what!’ Yves yelled back. ‘Really wanting something you could blame on me might have made you extra strong.’

Maddie stepped in. ‘Stop! Stop this rubbish!’ she cried. ‘We’re wasting time and energy. No one imagines for a moment that either of you did it, so stop tormenting each other. We won’t solve this mystery over the next few minutes so let’s just press on, and get ourselves away from this infuriating place. Come on. We’re the Fantasia. We have our troubles and mysteries, but we don’t give in to battering one another – even with words.’

So that is what they did.

As Garland moved to help with the winding and packing of ropes, Boomer edged his way up to her.

‘I was talking to that Birdboy,’ he said. ‘And I’m pretty sure they didn’t have anything to do with taking the converter. I don’t think you did either. Or Yves.’

‘But someone did,’ said Garland. ‘Someone took it from our van and buried it.’

Boomer looked somehow shifty and yet determined too.

‘The Birdboy says that when they were up in the trees he looked down and saw someone sliding around the camp and go into Maddie’s van,’ he said. ‘And then he saw the person come out again. And the person he pointed out was …’ Here Boomer fell silent. Then he pointed over at Timon who, together with Eden, was over by Goneril’s van fussing over Jewel.

‘Goneril?’ said Garland. ‘No way!’

‘No!’ cried Boomer softly, jabbing impatiently with his finger in Timon’s direction.

‘But that’s crazy,’ said Garland angrily. ‘It’s just as crazy as Goneril. I mean why would Timon do such a thing?’ Boomer shrugged. He had no idea. ‘I can imagine Yves doing it. I can imagine him having plans to bring the Fantasia down and then
to take it over. But Timon wouldn’t do such a thing. We’ve been his protection.’

‘Well,’ said Boomer, ‘I think he’s changed. I mean he was OK to begin with, but I think he’s gone a bit spooky. And just now I think I saw one of those two men who have been following us sneaking around.’

Garland was silent for a moment.

‘You’re wrong,’ she said at last.

Boomer shrugged and then said, ‘I might be, but I’m right about some things. I
did
see that man.’

‘But he’s Timon’s enemy,’ said Garland. ‘You know that. I suppose he might have – he might have ganged up with Yves or something. He might have bribed him. He might be working out a way to ruin the Fantasia. Then Yves could take it over, and those men, Maska and Ozul, could get Timon and Eden as a sort of reward.’

‘You just don’t want to believe me,’ said Boomer. ‘You’re making up mad things, because you want Yves to be the villain.’ And he walked away.

So the Fantasia moved on
just as it always did. Through all sorts of weathers … all sorts of troubles … they moved on. There was relief in moving on more or less smoothly – almost
gliding
along, Garland thought. And yet these days nothing except the road was smooth. Sitting together in their van, Maddie and Garland looked sideways at each other with a sort of sad suspicion.

And these days Lilith was practically always furious with Garland. It shouldn’t have mattered. Lilith was only a little kid. Yet Garland found it did matter. Lilith and she had their fights, but Lilith was part of her world and, rather to her surprise, she found she was missing Lilith and thought Lilith
might be missing her as well. Though they were deliberately riding or walking apart from one another, their eyes kept meeting, then swinging away as if they were both pretending they had looked at each other by accident.

At one break, for eating and stretching, they found themselves standing side by side.
I won’t say anything,
thought Garland, gazing into the distance, pretending to be wrapped up in a private dream. Lilith, on the other hand, was anxious to say a lot. She was bored and longing to entertain herself with a bit of fighting.

‘You said it was my dad who stole that converter,’ she burst out. ‘But he didn’t. He couldn’t have. He was in the van asleep. I woke up to have a drink and saw him sleeping there.’

‘You probably weren’t awake for long,’ replied Garland, ‘and anyway you could be making it all up. You make up a lot of stories.’

‘I do make up a few,’ said Lilith rather proudly, looking down at herself as if she half-expected to see stories printed on her skin. ‘I like inventing stories.’ She preened herself then went back to being fierce again. ‘But I’m not inventing this time. And anyhow my dad would want to
help
the Fantasia. You know that. He’s brave and he pushed us on to get to Newton. And now he’s pushing us back to Solis.’

This was true. Garland felt a little ashamed of herself. Lilith went on. ‘My dad would never betray the Fantasia … he likes Maddie too much. He’d like you if you let him.’

Garland felt herself toughening up once more. ‘I don’t have to be liked,’ she said loftily. ‘And you’re only a little kid. You don’t understand anything.’ Then she turned away.

On the far side of the campfire Boomer was bent over a great pair of wings. He seemed to have no time for anything else over the last few days. As he stretched them out, checking the harness and the way the motor connected to them, Boomer
imagined himself lifting his feet from the ground and flying … actually flying … up, up out of the Fantasia, leaving all its grey troubles behind him as he soared into the blue. He imagined himself stretching up to the sky, rising and falling in the clear air, making fun of gravity. Flapping a wing-tip in front of him, fanning himself with it, he dreamed of flight. But then Timon walked past and for some reason the mere sight of Timon spoilt Boomer’s blue, drumming dream.

‘Hey, I’m watching you,’ he blurted out and then wished he had stayed silent. Timon turned half-grinning. The grin would look friendly to anyone passing – just two boys having a bit of fun together – but Boomer knew there was nothing friendly about it.

‘What did you say?’ asked Timon.

‘I said I was watching you,’ mumbled Boomer. ‘I
know
about you.’

‘What do you know?’ asked Timon.

Boomer took a breath. ‘I know the
truth
,’ he said.

Timon laughed. ‘Clever you!’ he said. ‘But what’s truth anyway? It’s too mixed up for anyone as little and simple as you are. And you need real imagination to get any idea of truth. You’ll never get anywhere near understanding it.’

Then he turned and walked away. Just for a moment Boomer felt something he had never really felt before. He had had lots of arguments with people in and out of the Fantasia, and sometimes on his travels he had met someone he really disliked, but he had never actually hated anyone. However in that flash of time he hated Timon.

Looking across to the other side of the fire he saw Maddie and Yves talking together, heads almost touching as if they were discussing something particularly secret and serious. He looked over at Garland and saw that she was watching Yves and Maddie too, staring darkly at them before standing up
and, deserting Fantasia friends and warm fireside, making for her van.

Once in the van, once the door had clicked shut behind her, Garland felt herself relaxing, the world growing easier. Sighing deeply she turned towards her bunk. There had never been a time when the Fantasia had felt like this … so uneasy and strange … so brittle, as if it were about to snap into pieces. Yet after a moment she knew that, though there was great relief in shutting that door and being on her own, it was not enough. She longed for her mother to come in – to give her a hug and then relax and gossip with her, just as she used to gossip in the old days. The old days? It was really only a few weeks ago … day after ordinary day, unravelling those tangled roads left by the Remaking … ordinary days melting into one another and adding up to ordinary weeks filled with unpacking and packing, planning and performing, yet such terrible and tormented weeks too.

When she had tried to write in her diary last night, telling Ferdy what was going on, her sentences had twisted and lashed like tormented serpents, filled with helpless fury. Thinking about all this Garland felt under her pillow and snatched her diary out into the soft air of the caravan. Her pencil marked the last night’s ending place. Quickly, quickly she began to scribble her fury.

The door opened and Maddie came in. ‘Keeping track of the days?’ she asked, smiling.

‘I don’t want a single day to get away from me,’ Garland said, quickly closing the book. Maddie sat down on her bunk-bed just as Garland had imagined her sitting only a moment ago. She sighed deeply … so deeply that Garland looked across at her apprehensively. That sigh seemed like something she had sighed herself. It was hard to believe the sigh had come from Maddie.

Maddie must have felt her gaze. She looked up. Their eyes met. It was a long time since Garland and Maddie had shared such a deep, pure stare.

‘I’ll tell you something,’ Maddie said at last. ‘I don’t know if I should or shouldn’t, but I will. Yves has just suggested that when we get back to Solis we might marry. Now then …’ she cried, raising her hands as Garland opened her mouth, ‘… don’t you dare say a word until you hear what I have to say. It wasn’t because he loved me in the fine old way, but because he said life was getting complicated what with you being so hostile and people taking secret sides and so on. He said … and it’s true … it would make everything settled and straightforward. But I said no. I said it would hurt you too much, and I told him what I told you … that I still feel married to Ferdy.

‘Now, bearing all that in mind, do you think you could bring yourself to be just a little friendly to Yves … to be grateful for what he does, which is to work very hard for the Fantasia. Do you think you could work
with
us and not
against
us? Be a true Fantasia girl?’

Garland thought she was about to cry. ‘OK,’ she said gruffly, looking down at the ground. ‘I’ll try. I’ll try to be a bit more friendly.’ She turned around and stared out of the nearest van window. ‘I just hate seeing him prancing in Ferdy’s place.’

‘So do I,’ said Maddie, ‘but what I would hate even more is seeing that place empty.’

Through the van window, Garland could see the last flames rising up from the campfire like bright trembling blades, and by their shifty light Garland also saw Timon walking past it, not much more than a black shape and looking as if he might be making for her van, coming to see her perhaps. Beyond him she could make out Eden and Boomer sitting side by side, slinging off at one another, but in a friendly way, not like enemies. Eden and Timon had seemed rather separated over the last few days, Garland thought, but perhaps that was because they were settling down in the Fantasia and were no longer dependent on one another in the way they had been. She sent a thought out to Timon.
I’m in here. Here I am.
But, as she watched, Timon swerved off to one side, and the light shifted on his skin which seemed to shimmer.

Once out of the sight of her window, he paused, clapping his hand across his mouth as if he were about to be ill. He glanced over at Garland’s van again, making a movement towards it as if that was really where he wanted to find himself. But then he turned yet again, moving in a jerky, lopsided way, as if he were a puppet, and an invisible puppet master was twitching his strings. Walking off into the forest, he followed the scrappy road at first, then turned off to the right and began picking his way in between the trees, breathing deeply as if he was enjoying the scent of damp leaves and moss. However his expression wasn’t the expression of someone who was enjoying anything at all.

‘There you are,’ said a voice.

‘There you are,’ said a second voice, echoing the first, but the second voice sounded like a voice cranked out of a damaged machine.

‘Here I am,’ Timon whispered, stopping then smiling into the shadows as he turned.

Ozul and Maska slid towards him.

Ozul was holding his small power book device open, its greenish light playing on his face. He looked deeply into the screen, then raised his dazzled blank eyes to stare at Timon, nodded, and then looked back at the screen again.

‘What am I doing here?’ asked Timon softly. He was refusing to look directly at either Ozul or Maska, and his question seemed to be one he was asking himself, looking around as if an answer might come to him from the air.

‘You came so that you could speak to a member of your family,’ Ozul said. ‘Your dear guardian the Nennog is not – well, let us say he is not pleased with you. Nevertheless he is about to suggest a way you can make it all up. Look! Let me show you!’ He turned the screen of the power book towards Timon who shrank back, wincing at first, but then slowly moved forwards as if there were something deep in the screen he must see whether he wanted to or not. Taking the power book from Ozul, he bent towards it as if the green light flooding out from it was somehow drawing him closer and closer to a hidden heart of green fire.

A voice spoke … a slow, thick voice, rich in menace.

‘I am not pleased,’ the voice said. ‘I am not pleased that converter was found again. I have checked on it and it is an astonishing thing. I don’t want the wise men in Solis to get it or it might change the past too much. And if the past changes I might cease to exist. And you and your brother might cease to exist. Do not forget that.’

‘I did my best,’ said Timon. ‘They had their guards out – actually their people are everywhere. It is not easy. Ask Ozul. Ask Maska.’

‘You must do better,’ the voice said. The light pouring up out of the power book made Timon’s skin look green. Scales seemed to be forming on the fingers holding the power book; scales began creeping up from under his collar taking over his neck. ‘The solstice is close and the Fantasia is nearly home,’ the voice whispered.

‘I
will
stop them,’ said Timon. His voice was soft too, but somehow strong as well. ‘I will find a way.’

‘Oh, I know you will,’ said the voice suddenly filled with an unpleasant irony. ‘You will find a way. Your existence may depend on it. You must bring me the converter so that I can keep it safe. And you must find the Talisman and bring it to me as well.’

Timon’s face seemed to be altering as he looked into the screen, taking on quite another appearance – the appearance of someone – something – not quite human. He smiled and nodded.

‘I will find a way,’ he repeated, and his hand, scaly and green, on the power book seemed not unlike the hand of the Nennog himself.