Attica (13 page)

They were always seeing movements out of the corner of their eyes, though. The attic was that kind of place. It was a patchwork of shadows and half-light and dazzling sunshine. One drifted from dimly lit corners where the dust was centimetres thick, into brilliant spaces where the sunlight was blinding. Twilight to bright light in a
moment. It was no wonder, they told each other, that the light played tricks with their eyes. Shadowy creatures danced with quick movements here, there and everywhere, but you could never catch them in full sight. Maddeningly, they were always fleeting.

However, looking up into the woven network of rafters at one point, Alex was given a start. This was real! No figment of the mind. There, looking down at him, was a doll’s painted face. The blue eyes of the doll, set in pale-pink china, stared at him unblinkingly. She had red cupid’s-bow lips and bulging cheeks of rosy hue. The doll was clinging to one rafter with chubby little ceramic hands, her tiny feet in black strapover shiny shoes on the rafter below. She was wearing a filthy white dress, torn in places. Suddenly, inexplicably, she smiled with a row of neat even teeth. Then she climbed up, as fast as a monkey, into the upper canopy and out of sight.

Alex was so frightened he could hardly breathe.

‘There’s something up there,’ he croaked.

‘I know: bats,’ replied his sister. ‘Come on.’

Alex said no more. There wasn’t any point in worrying Chloe. In any case, they were emerging from the canopy into a more spacious area. There were man-sized figures standing like scarecrows as far as the eye could see. All had definite faces: some hideous, others not so. Alex shuddered, but his sister had been prepared for this.

‘A Land of Masks,’ she murmured.

‘Shouldn’t we arm ourselves?’ asked Alex, taking out his penknife. ‘Any golf clubs around?’

‘If you walk about with weapons, you only antagonise people.’

‘People?’

‘Well, whatever.’

‘We could pretend we were playing
golf.’

Chloe said, ‘It’s best we approach pure of heart.’

‘Is it?’ Alex was unconvinced.

The ‘figures’ had been fashioned from odds and ends and hardly resembled people at all. Most of them had no arms or legs, being merely cones made of old clothes, washing line poles, waste bins, that sort of junk. But they were topped by the most beautiful – and ugly – masks. Some were traditional carnival masks which Chloe recognised as being from the Venice carnival. Others were more exotic, from Africa, Polynesia, China and Borneo. Some of the African masks were quite scary: they were meant to be, having once been used in tribal rituals to drive out demons. Others from the same continent were obviously meant to represent animals – lion masks, elephant masks, hippo masks – and were not frightening at all. There were grinning devil masks from China and mournful demi-god masks from the islands of the Pacific Ocean. Very unnerving. Most with hollow eyes. There were huge giant masks at the back, on the edges of the attic, and smaller ones near to the path which the children were using.

‘Don’t look at them,’ said Chloe, walking among the forest of figures. ‘Try not to answer them.’

‘What?’ cried a nervous Alex.

‘Over heres,’ said a mask with a mouth formed in a perfect wooden O. ‘Sir, sir, over heres. Thine eyes must perceive my terrible plight.’

‘Don’t look at him,’ warned Chloe, gripping her brother’s sleeve. ‘Don’t listen to him.’

‘Oh, please master, mistress, helping me. I am a real and bona fide person in thrall to these creatures,’ cried another mask, one of straw and raffia with wild hair and whiskers. ‘If you could just assist me to get out, my liberty would be your just afters.’

‘Maybe there is someone in
there,’ Alex said. ‘What if there’s another kid like us?’

‘He has long gone, our Gatherer. Gone, gone away.’

‘When have you heard a kid talk like that? Don’t listen to it. You mustn’t take any notice. They want you to take them out of here and they’ll hypnotise you to do it. The bat told me that once they get hold of you, they won’t let you go.’

‘What – what will they do?’

‘Just keep walking.’

‘Lord of walking things, borrow me.’

‘Happy child, taking please an unhappy face?’

At certain points they had to move quite close to the masked figures, but Chloe kept her eyes determinedly on the far side of the Land of Masks. She gripped her younger brother’s hand almost fiercely, pulling him along with her. Alex wasn’t always the strongest person in such a situation. He was impressionable and easily persuaded, like the time he gave all his pocket money to a beggar on the London Underground. The important thing was to ignore the pleas of the masks. Oh indeed, it was difficult to ignore the imploring voices around them. Chloe was surprised how hard it was not to turn and look, but she knew how dangerous it was to fall for Attica’s tricks. She was learning fast that if they were to meet Jordy again, find the map and get out of this nightmare, they had to keep their wits about them.

‘We’re out!’ she said in a relieved voice, still holding on to Alex. ‘We made it.’

‘Free,’ said Alex in a peculiar voice. ‘Brothers and sisters, goodbye.’

Chloe turned, alarmed.

Alex was wearing a mask.

‘Oh, Alex,’ she said in despair.

The mask he had on was made of
raffia and clay. It had a tall conical top to it, like a witch’s hat, painted black with white sticks attached to it. The face was painted black with white spots. There were holes for the eyes and a slit for the mouth. Here and there, on the forehead and running up the strange hat, were white zig-zag lines. The final touch was the beard of thick brown raffia. The mouth and eyes were lined with white paint.

‘How did that happen?’ cried Chloe. ‘You must have grabbed it with your other hand.’

Trust Alex to get himself in trouble, even after warnings. Now Chloe felt she had to be firm with him.

‘Take it off!’ ordered Chloe, gripping the mask. ‘Throw it back in there.’

‘Leave me be, woman,’ it said. ‘Desist. I am Makishi. You cannot throw me away like a piece of trash.’

Alex sided with the mask. ‘Leave it alone, Clo. I like it.’

‘You can’t like it – it’s hideous,’ said Chloe. She was afraid the mask had somehow bewitched Alex into putting it on his face. It might eventually do her young brother harm.

‘It lets me see things,’ replied Alex mysteriously.

‘What things?’

Alex was cagey. ‘I’m not telling you. You’ll want a go with it. I might let you later, when I’m fed up with it.’

‘I wouldn’t put that thing on if you paid me. It smells for a start. They must have glued it together with buffalo dung.’

‘You’re not going to get the chance. It’s
my
mask. I found it and I get to keep it.’

‘And I get to keep Alex.’

‘See?’ said Chloe. ‘That’s the kind of remark that worries me. Now, what do you want?’

‘I don’t want anything,’ replied a peeved Alex. ‘I just want to keep the mask on.’

‘I’m talking to the
mask. Mask, now you’ve escaped, why do you need my brother?’

‘To walk, to move, to be carrying me.’

Of course, the mask was nothing without a wearer. It had no powers at all if it were not worn by someone. Chloe had to believe that Alex was still all right behind the mask. She asked him how he was.

‘I’m fine,’ he replied. ‘I like the mask.’

Chloe said, ‘Well, you can keep it on for now. We’ll think about getting it off you later.’

For the moment Chloe decided they just had to keep going. The day was fading from the skylights and she wanted to be well away from the other masks before she camped for the night. Still holding Alex’s hand – she was afraid the mask might run away with her brother if she let go – she continued on her way. A while later she stopped and stood still for a moment.

‘Why do we do a pause?’ asked the mask.

‘We have to rest. We’re only children. We can’t walk for ever.’

‘Do not be tricking me.’

‘I’m not. Look, if I let go my brother’s hand, will you stay? I don’t want you running away with him.’

‘Where would I go? I go where you go.’

The answer sounded genuine. Good. She hoped she was right in thinking that the mask had only limited knowledge. Chloe was weary and couldn’t hold on to Alex’s hand for ever. Although she was strong in spirit she was tired physically. There would come a time, she was sure, when all this would be over, but for now she had to tough it out. She let go of Alex’s hand. He did not run. Good. Now she had to question the mask. Knowledge was the key to many things. If she found out where it came from, who made it, she might be able to discover weaknesses in its power over her brother.

‘Where are you from?’ she asked, sitting Alex down and
removing his backpack. ‘You’re not from around here.’

‘I am from a hot place.’

‘Borneo? South America? Madagascar?’

‘Many flies. Many rivers.’

Many rivers?

‘What sort of animals do you have? Any elephants?’

‘Yes, elephants.’

‘Big ears?’

‘Of course big ears.’

‘Well Asian elephants have smaller ears. Do you have any lions?’

‘Lions, yes.’

‘Ah, Africa – somewhere. How did you get from Africa to here?’ she asked casually. ‘Were you brought here?’

‘I come in brown paper twined-about with strings.’

It seemed that was all she was going to get.

‘What did you say your name was?’

‘Makishi. I am the One Who Circumcises Boys.’

A startled Alex interrupted with, ‘Does what?’

‘Never mind,’ said Chloe, ‘but you might want to get rid of that mask as soon as possible.’

She left the mask alone now and took some food from her bag. Their supply was getting very low. They would need to find another source soon. She wondered how she was going to feed Alex. Through the hole in the mask? She tried it, handing some to her brother, who said, ‘Thanks, sis,’ in that faraway voice and popped it through the opening. ‘Not as good as pigeon.’

What was he talking about? Chloe had far more to worry about than pigeons. Africa. What did she know about Africa? Her heart sank. Not very much.

‘Mask, what kind of grass are you made from?’

‘Strong grass. Elephant grass.’

‘So you’re very durable. You’ll last a long time?’

‘For ever.’

Nelson was having the best
of times in the attic. It was one vast hunting ground, better than any garden he had ever owned. The place was teeming with mice, there were birds to be had in the dark corners of the eaves, and there were rats too. He’d already had a run in with a rat and of course had come off best, despite being handicapped. He didn’t consider himself at a disadvantage, having only three legs. It actually gave him an edge, since his adversaries took his invalidity for granted. They reckoned ill who did so, for he taught them a great lesson about three-cornered cats.

Now he was going through a strange place full of strange wooden faces, following two of his human family. Suddenly a creature popped out of the mouth of one of the masks and stood before him. The creature was human shaped, but about the size of a large rat. It showed its teeth to Nelson, who had never liked this gesture, even in his own family of humans.

‘Gaaaah!’ cried the creature before him. ‘Eeech!’

Nelson had no comprehension of these sounds and actually was now quite irritated by this strange thing which smelled of candles.

‘Urchhg. Aaaaach.’

It did a little dance before him, then took out some sharp needles and pricked Nelson’s nose with one of them. The sound that came from the small figure’s mouth sounded like triumph to Nelson. Nelson hated birds that crowed over him: and any other creature for that matter.

Another little dance and a stab with the needles.

Nelson had taken enough. He bit its head off.

The body ran away.

The head tasted just like candle. Nelson chewed it into a shapeless wad then spat it out in
disgust. He loped on in as dignified a fashion as his missing leg would allow, thoroughly disgusted at the delay.

Jordy had not climbed Jagged Mountain, but had taken the long way round, skirting the foothills, never going higher than necessary. It was a long and tedious journey but once he had reached the other side he felt briefly invigorated and elated. Here he was, on his own, trekking where no man had been before. Or if they had, there was no sign of him in the dust, for Jordy’s were the only footprints. When he looked back there was a long line of them, stretching as far as he could see.

The only drawback was that he felt very, very lonely. Jordy liked company. He liked encouragement when things were going bad and he liked praise when things were going good. He did not like having to fall on his own resources the whole time, with no one to share in the glory or the defeat. The problem was Jordy was more lost than ever and had no hope of returning to the other two as he had promised.

‘Well,’ he said, divesting himself of the pack he now carried, ‘here I am on the other side of Attica.’

He sat down, took out some dried vegetables and crunched on them, studying what lay around him. Jordy too had been visited by a talkative bat in the middle of the night and told of a golden bureau if he would just keep his eyes skinned for soapstone carvings. But there were no hostile ink imps to be seen, nor any other kind of super-natural creature. An area covered with scattered tea chests lay ahead. Jordy stared hard at the nearest chest. He got up and went to inspect it. Tapping the plywood case he found it was hollow. The box was not only empty, it was upside-down. Looking around him he could see that
all
the tea chests were the wrong way
up. Not only that, they were not placed at random. There was a roughly equal gap between each of them, as if they had been placed for a purpose.

Jordy looked up at the tangle of rafters overhead. No clues up there. Nothing but cobwebs and darkness.

Why would anyone place wooden boxes in a definite pattern?

Maybe, he thought, this is the work of an artist?

He wished Chloe were there so that she could argue with him.

Jordy sighed. It was no fun being brilliant on your own.