Maddigan's Fantasia (34 page)

‘It’s got her,’ Boomer shrieked. ‘It’s got –’ And then all sound was shut off for Garland.

‘Garland,’ cried Timon, like an echo of Maddie, though Garland was not there to hear him. And he too dived into the lake.

Writhing under the water desperately trying to hold her breath, Garland kicked out at the closest eel head to no effect. Its needle teeth were stitching her clothes wildly.
I’m going to die,
she thought.
Drown and die! Drown and die! I’m going to be eaten. I’ll turn into a ghost and haunt the lake
.

Her held-in breath was longing to get out. It began to hurt her. She would not be able to hold it in for much longer.

Then vaguely she saw a shape cutting through the water towards her … saw a hand held out to her – a hand with bandage trailing behind it. The lake water was disturbed and it was hard to be sure of what she was seeing, but it certainly seemed that the skin on that hand was somehow scaly. It must be the hand of yet another lake monster, she thought. But there was no way out of it. When you’re drowning you can’t be choosy. Even a
scaly
hand might be better than nothing

Something like a knife cut through the water. Vaguely, very vaguely now, Garland was aware of it. It was like a blade. It was like a shriek given a shape and an edge. The monster recoiled as if it had been stabbed, then rolled away from her. The scaly hand grabbed her. Garland felt a strange stinging feeling as she was pulled up and up and up, and there she was, gasping hugely in the misty air, between two barges, with Maddie reaching out for her and Boomer, now on Maddie’s raft, grabbing at her arm and not a monster in sight. A moment later she was lying on her back on the raft, staring up past Maddie’s head and seeing the mist parting a little so that
she could glimpse, somewhere up there, a blue, blue sky. ‘Garland,’ Maddie was shouting and weeping at the same time. ‘Oh, precious girl.’

‘Get going!’ Yves was crying from somewhere. ‘Quick! It could come back at any moment. It might be hungry.’

Garland sat up slowly, gulping precious air, but feeling curiously safe. There was Timon, dripping wet, trying to wrap that dripping bandage around his hand again, winding it round and round as rapidly as he could. It was almost as if, rather than wanting to comfort a hurt hand he was trying to hide it. There was Tane, back on his raft, slumped and breathless and there was Goneril, putting a screaming Jewel over her shoulder and patting her comfortingly, so that she would forget the frightening noisy things that had been going on around her in the last few minutes.

Garland sat panting while confusion continued to rage around her.

‘Where is it? Where is it?’ Tane was yelling.

‘Don’t be scared!’ Timon shouted, hard at work, continuing to wrap his hand with the wet bandage.

‘Oh, Garland! Thank God! Garland!’ Maddie was crying, entirely forgetting to be tough, forgetting that the show had to go on. Garland was safe, and for Maddie, right then, there was only this wonderful moment.

Suddenly Jewel stopped her screaming, squeaked and held out her arms. And then, suddenly and silently, those huge hideous twin heads reared up out of the water again. Everyone – even Yves, cried out – but Jewel clapped her hands, laughing as if the monster were nothing but a toy hung over that little sideways bunk in Goneril’s van. Goneril yelled, and the great head, one with an open mouth, thrust itself towards them. Maddie jumped up and Garland could not see quite what happened next. All she knew was that, as she was still gasping and spitting out bits of water weed, a silence fell – a
silence so sudden and so unexpected it was almost like a blow. Then Maddie shifted a little and Garland was able to see that Jewel was patting the monster, and that the monster was arching one of its heads under her touch as if it were enjoying the fuss she was making of it. Jewel gurgled and giggled.

‘Is she – is she
talking
to it?’ Boomer said.

As Jewel touched that one head, the monster shifted. Its other head ducked under the water, then reappeared and very gently grabbed the edge of Maddie’s raft with its teeth. It twisted in the water and began to move.

‘For goodness sake!’ cried Yves. ‘Is it – is it going to
help
us? It’s – it’s
guiding
us. Here! Tane! Quickly! Let’s tie the rafts together if we can.’

‘That’s just silly,’ said Maddie blankly, but they were the Fantasia. They quickly organized themselves, doing as Yves suggested, connecting his raft to Maddie’s, then Tane’s raft to Yves’s, Tane’s to the next raft and so on. As they began slipping effortlessly through the mist once more, Garland thought she could feel (almost as if it were an extra chill in the air) that someone was more astonished than the rest of them – more than astonished. Somewhere someone was deeply shocked. Still breathing deeply and thinking what a wonder it was to be able to do so, she looked from face to face, seeing different kinds of amazement. It was when she looked at Timon she felt herself come to a stop. The feeling of deep alarm, that strange arrow of shock, was shooting out from
Timon
. But, after all, it was only to be expected. What would she be feeling – what would anyone be feeling – if she had found herself with a baby sister who could entrance a monster?

‘It’s
her
,’ whispered Eden. He was not whispering to anyone in particular, except, maybe, himself. But they were close enough now for Garland to hear him.

‘Her!’ echoed Garland, also whispering, without quite knowing what she meant.

Timon was laughing. He laughed with wonder, though there was still something about his wonder that made Garland feel a little uncomfortable.

‘Something precious. Yes. Something our mother gave us. Yes! Jewel!
Jewel
is the Talisman.’

They moved on through the mist which began to dissolve like a wild dream. There they were, peacefully crossing the open lake. There far, far ahead of them they began to make out the big rafts with the vans on them … the rest of the Fantasia, like a floating mirage.

Behind them Ozul struggled to haul Maska back on board, rather as if he was pulling a dead fish onto the long logs of the raft.

‘The baby’s got powers,’ he said. ‘The
baby
!’

‘What?’ creaked Maska, then jerked and kicked and sparked convulsively once more.

‘Come on, you fool. Mend yourself.’

‘Can’t,’ bubbled Maska. ‘Bro-ken! Need time. Need space. Bro-ken!’

‘Do your best,’ said Ozul. ‘They’re getting away from us. Getting away.’

And indeed the three rafts, drawn by that monster … the Guardian … the Taniwha … were moving steadily to join the rest of the Fantasia. As they came to the shallows within sight of the jetty the monster reared up. It bowed its two heads, looking down at them. Jewel laughed and waved her hands at it before it somehow backed away, sliding down into the blue water of the lake and disappearing. They all stared at the huge ripples it left behind it, unable, now it was gone, to believe it had ever been there.

‘He’d have made a helluva feed, that fella,’ said Tane regretfully.

‘You be careful what you say,’ yelled Goneril. ‘He might hear
you. And we’d make a helluva feed too.’

But Boomer turned to Garland.

‘Those men that are after Timon and Eden … they’re scared of Timon,’ he said quietly. ‘They didn’t used to be, but they are now. Why?’

Garland did not know and could not guess. She stood there dripping, grateful to be alive, but feeling once again that the world around her was a great mystery that she would never be able to solve.

They each took their turn to come alongside the jetty and unload their rafts. When the whole Fantasia and the precious converter were safely ashore Yves shouted, ‘Right! We’ve had a bit of a break. Let’s get on with it.’

And being the Fantasia they did get back to work, happy to be safe and doing the things they were used to doing.

As she worked, Garland found her leftover fear and the feelings of deep mystery fading away and being replaced by driving curiosity. She edged closer and closer to Timon.

‘How’s your arm?’ she asked, being careful to keep her voice careless.

‘Better,’ he said, avoiding her gaze.

‘The road’ll be quite good from now on. No much walking,’ Garland said. ‘Do you want to ride with us?’

‘I’d better stick with … with Eden,’ he replied.

‘And with your Talisman,’ she said.

Timon almost looked at her … almost, but not quite. He shrugged.

‘Who’d have thought the source of all that power would still be in nappies,’ he said at last.

Garland put down her pen
and stared around her. There in the distance, visible through branches and leaves, close, so close now, was that faint glow … the lights of Solis. Bush leaned in on either side of them, almost but not quite embracing them. Among the trees she could make out strange objects – things that did not belong in the bush, even though the bush was hugging them as closely as if they were rare treasures – the body of a rusting car, an ancient refrigerator, other things that were hard to recognize for time had dissolved so much of them, as it dissolves everything.

Garland closed her diary on her words and on the pencil that had written them. She hid it in its usual place and moved out into the world, joining the Fantasia group. She began helping Tane serve the food, and, as he moved around the circle of hungry people, suddenly realized that she was doing this so she could look at Timon closely and from several angles.

Even though it was a warm night, he had wrapped the red
scarf that had once been buried with the stolen converter snugly around his neck. Eden sat away from him over by the ancient fridge, seeming to ignore his brother and concentrating instead on what Tane was saying to Boomer who was sitting with those wings, spread like the huge, black, torn pages of an open book across his knees. Timon saw Garland looking over at him and gave her a strange smile … shy, placating almost, as if he was asking her to forgive him for something. Then he looked away, trying to get Eden’s attention, but Eden turned away thumping the ancient refrigerator (which looked strangely comfortable, nestling there among the ferns), and asking Boomer what it had been used for.

‘They used to keep clothes in it,’ Lilith said quickly, ‘socks and things like that.’

Garland moved on a little, offering sausages, only slightly burnt, to anyone hungry enough to take another one.

‘Remember the last time we were here?’ Yves was asking Maddie. ‘The lights of Solis really were so much brighter, weren’t they? I mean we can still see them, but they’re …’

‘They’re dimming,’ put in Penrod. ‘I said so last night. They do need us, those city people, don’t they? Need us and what we’re bringing.’

Garland bent over Yves, passing him the sausages. When he looked up at her, he seemed so battered and tired she felt really sorry for him.

‘Hey, thank you,’ she said rather awkwardly. It was as if she were practising something for the first time. ‘Thank you for – for being so much on my side, back there.’

Yves looked at her with astonishment.

‘Of course I was on your side,’ he said gruffly. ‘We’re all …’ he stopped.

‘We’re all Maddigans, born or not,’ said Garland. She felt she should say more, but didn’t know quite what to say. ‘Sorry!’
she half-whispered at last. ‘Sorry for being so …’ She stopped. ‘Sorry for what I’ve been …’

‘Forget it,’ said Yves quickly. ‘I’ve probably got things to be sorry for too. It’s not been the easiest journey has it? Better luck next time around.’

Garland found herself grinning at him. ‘Much better next time,’ she agreed, nodding as she spoke. Then she was about to pass on but Yves put out a hand and took her wrist gently.

‘Do remember,’ he said, ‘that I miss Ferdy too. He was – well – like a big brother to me. I know you didn’t believe me when I said it before, but maybe you do now. Anyhow it’s true.’

Garland suddenly felt her smile quiver. She thought she might be about to cry so she moved on rapidly, only to realize that Timon’s place by the fire was empty. He was gone, scarf, bandage and all.

‘Where Timon?’ she asked Goneril. ‘He was over there a moment ago.’

‘Putting his sister to bed … giving me a bit of a break,’ said Goneril. ‘You don’t know what I have to put up with from that kid. She ought to sleep more than she does, but she’s always awake, wanting attention. And as for her nappies …’

Garland moved on a step or two, and paused, staring into the bush, listening to the familiar, safe sounds of Goneril’s grumbling and the Fantasia chatting. Then she put the tray on the ground and wandered towards Goneril’s van, trying to make it look almost accidental – as if she’d lost a handkerchief and was wanting to find just where she had dropped it. In fact it was anything but accidental. No harm in checking, she was thinking.

‘Well,’ Goneril said, watching her go. ‘I don’t need my fortune-telling cards to work out who
she’s
keen on.’

The door of the van was open. Garland stepped up into it, and looked around, already knowing it would be empty. She
walked through the van, touching the bunks on either side, right to the end, then paused to lift the quilts on Jewel’s short bunk, knowing again, before she looked, that Jewel had been carried off into the night. The back door of the van was open, swinging slightly as if someone had only just gone through it. Garland stepped down into the dark.

‘Where is he?’ she was asking herself, moving around the back of van and looking over at the faint, warm light of the distant fire once more. There they were, the Fantasia people, all talking quietly, all tired, all ready for bed but enjoying a little Fantasia gossip before they made for their bunks. It was as if the Fantasia people were telling bedtime stories to one another.

‘Where is he?’ asked a sudden voice, echoing her own question and making her jump. And there was Boomer, staring at her as if she might know the answer to some terrible riddle. He must have followed her. Garland thought again that Boomer sometimes appeared older than a mere eleven years – that he seemed to be more or less her own age with her own way of understanding the world.

‘Gone! And he’s taken Jewel,’ said Garland. ‘OK! We have to find them. You go that way, and I’ll go this way. Yell out for me if you find him first. Don’t try and take him on or anything like that.’

But she could tell that Boomer did not want to search the shadowy night for Timon. ‘We should tell the others,’ he said. ‘Everyone should look for them.’

Garland shrugged. ‘Yes, but what would we tell them?’ she asked. ‘He hasn’t
done
anything, has he? And he’s allowed to take his own baby sister for a walk. None of the others really know that he’s grown so strange and creepy. They don’t see him the way we do. And anyhow they’re too flat-out busy to look at him carefully.’

She picked up one of the Fantasia lanterns from its holder by
the doorway of Goneril’s van and passed it over to him. Boomer looked at her.

‘You know he’s not just creepy. He’s
bad
,’ he said, trailing after her as she moved on towards Maddie’s van.

Garland unhooked her bow from its slot beside the door, hooked the quiver of arrows onto her belt and helped herself to another lantern. ‘Well, I know something’s wrong with him,’ she said to Boomer. ‘Come on.’

And off they moved towards the bush. Boomer chose one track. Garland chose another.

‘If I find him I’ll sneak back and get
you
,’ Boomer said. Garland could tell that, though Boomer was determined, he was terrified too.

Afterwards it seemed to her she had somehow known the right path to take. The trees seemed to make room for her, and then to close around her, but they were friendly trees, brushing against her in a reassuring way, patting her back and shoulders.
Go on! Go on! This is the right way
that leafy touch seemed to be saying.
You’re on the right track.
And at last she saw light … not the yellow light of the lanterns she and Boomer were carrying … not the glowing light of the fire … but a greenish light … an unpleasant light. She had seen it before. She knew she had found Timon.

There he was, sitting on a fallen tree in the middle of a little bush glade no bigger than the bed compartment of a van, and there at his feet, tucked into her carrycot and wrapped in quilts, was Jewel sleeping innocently. In front of Timon was that green and glowing book she had seen before. He was somehow talking across time and, looking at the eerie light that was shining out of it, beating on his face, sinking into the folds of the scarf around his neck, Garland found it easy to guess who he was talking to.

‘The Talisman is revealed,’ she could hear him saying. ‘I’ve
got it with me – but – but I’ve no way of transporting it.’

A strange voice suddenly came, grating and horrible, into the mild bush air.

‘You are lying. You have the slider. You could bring it home and yourself along with it. But there is no need! No need as long as you are strong. No need as long as you
obey
!’

From where she stood Garland could see Timon’s face twist with what she thought must be pain. He tilted his head upwards, as if some agony was burning in every part of him. Shadows shifted uneasily across his tormented face, almost as they are afraid that they might become tormented too.

‘I don’t understand,’ Timon said at last.

‘Know me!’ said that other voice. ‘Look inside yourself and meet my eyes.’ Slowly Timon lowered his head. Garland could not tell if the green light was shining into his eyes or out of them. Slowly, slowly she lowered her own lantern to the ground. Swiftly, swiftly she slid her bow from across her shoulder.

‘There is one reason we want that Talisman,’ the voice said. ‘We want it to become part of us. Or we want to smash it out of existence.’ Timon looked down at the sleeping Jewel, and, as he looked at her, the voice went on, hideous and implacable. ‘Bring her to me or destroy her for me. We are bound, you and I … bound together! Destroy her and I will bring you home and you will be … not my heir, for I plan to live forever, but my partner. Tell me you understand this.’

Slowly Timon looked up again.

‘I do,’ he said. And with these words the communicator somehow turned itself off, though Garland could not tell who had done the turning. Her own lantern light fell faintly on Timon and the sleeping Jewel, but Timon did not seem to be aware of it. Instead he looked down at the baby, her thumb in her mouth, one tender foot poking out from her blankets, and
Garland could see his face twist into an expression of such ugliness she couldn’t help gasping.

Though, at that moment, she was utterly terrified Garland knew she must do something. She took a breath, preparing to shout at him, to run at him, to smash his communicating device over as she punched him in his horrible face. But within a second that face changed again, and Timon straightened, drawing back from Jewel. He stared around wildly, and a groan … the sound some dying animal might make … forced its way out. In the same moment he suddenly seemed aware of lantern light falling on him from an unexpected direction, and turned to meet the eyes of Garland, staring back at him gravely along her arrow … an arrow trained directly on him. There was a silence between them. Then Timon spoke.

‘Go on!’ he said. ‘Go on! Fire! Do it! Quickly! Quickly, before I change again.’

‘What’s happening?’ asked Garland, holding the bow bent and the arrow aimed.

‘You saw it, didn’t you?’ Timon replied. ‘You saw my possession. You know.’ He stood up and stepped back. ‘Take her! Take Jewel. I promise I won’t stop you.’

‘How can I trust you?’ Garland demanded. ‘Your promises are all
spooked
promises. What’s happened to you.’

‘I’m not what I was,’ said Timon. ‘I’m changing. He linked into me. He’s taking me over. When he moved into me I can’t – I can’t be myself any more – I become
him
.’

He stepped back even further. ‘Take her quickly!’

Garland hesitated. It could be a trap.

‘Please,’ begged Timon, and this time she just had to believe the pain in his voice. Sliding her arrow back into the quiver at her belt, slinging her bow over her shoulder, Garland took a breath, then darted into the glade. She grabbed the handles of the carrycot, glancing down at Jewel then up at Timon, and
then from Timon to Jewel again, as she half-swung, half-dragged the baby back to safety on the edge of the glade. Safety? No! There could be no safety from whatever it was that haunted Timon. Still, at least there was a bit of space between them. She took a breath. She let it out. She took another.

‘OK! Let’s go back,’ she said. ‘Let’s go back to the fire and the Fantasia.’

‘I can’t!’ Timon cried softly. ‘I
told
you. I’m being taken over. I’m turning into – into
him
! And if I turn into him I’ll kill Jewel. I’ll kill Eden. I’ll kill you.’

‘No way!’ Garland said, as bravely and fiercely as she could. ‘I’ll kill you first.’

Timon paused. Then he began to laugh. At first it was just a chuckle but it grew louder and longer and turned into a true, full laugh. It was almost as if the laugh was making him feel better.

‘It’s not that funny,’ said Garland indignantly.

There was a movement behind her, a rustle, a deepening of the lantern light. Boomer! Boomer racing bravely out of the shadow, grabbing her arm and trying to haul her after him. ‘Come on! Get away. He’s awful. Leave him!’ he shouted in a great scramble of words.

‘No!’ Garland cried back. ‘He’s part of the Fantasia. We have to
help
him.’

‘No, we don’t!’ yelled Boomer. ‘He’s a monster and we don’t have to help monsters.’

‘We help
Fantasia
monsters,’ Garland yelled back. ‘We can’t just leave him.’

‘No! Because I’ll
follow
you,’ Timon said, and suddenly his voice had a new rasp in it. ‘Go on. Go now! Quickly. It’s moving in on me again.’

‘Well, we will go!’ cried Garland. ‘But you follow us. Follow us and fight it! Fight it! Because everyone’s still round the
campfire. So we’ll have a midnight parley and we’ll save you. Because we’re Maddigans and we can fight any old Nennog in any old time. Come on, Boomer! Grab my lantern and run!’

Snatching up the carrycot, heavy with Jewel’s weight, she made off into the bush, running as fast as she could. Boomer ran at her heels with a lantern in either hand, both of them aware of Timon following at a distance. As she clumped along, Garland was both determined and terrified, for somehow she could feel, there behind her, Timon struggling within himself as he ran … struggling to hold that Nennog, working within him, at bay. He was running, changing and fighting the change as he ran. It was like having – not a single boy but a whole pack of creatures hot on her heels. ‘
Maddigan! Maddigan,
’ she muttered, running on, trying not to drag or drop the carrycot, trying not to spill Jewel out of it. She burst out of the bush, shouting to the drowsy crowd around the campfire. ‘
Maddigan!
’ The Fantasia leapt to their feet, holding out their arms. Maddie stepped forward to grab her and pull her into the firelight. Goneril sprang for Jewel, who, by now, was startled and crying. Penrod whisked Boomer behind him. And, for the moment at least, there with the Fantasia closing around them, she and Boomer and Jewel were safe.