Clearheart (14 page)

‘Bolgus, you oversized oaf, do try to appear through the same section in the ice each time you visit, rather than popping your head up out of the ground wherever you feel like it. Look at the craters you have made all over the place. You are making a horrible mess of the view from my bedroom. Not to mention the fact that it can't be terribly good for the natural balance of things.'

The Duke of Magus stood outside the magnificent hideaway he had built for himself in Antarctica, addressing the ginormous red head of Lord Thomas of Gommoronahl's brother, Bolgus Brackenrack. The walls of his new home sliced up out of the snow like finely sharpened sculptures, casting reflections across the ice with the gleam of their polished sides. It was as though someone had placed a series of slim, crystal pyramids in the middle of nowhere. High up in the sky, and much further than the eye could see in any direction, an invisible Dome of Inconspicuous Impenetration kept the Duke's whereabouts secret.

The Giant, who had rather hurt his head coming up through
the ground this time, calmed his breathing against the shock of so much fresh air and tried to stay awake. ‘Uh, okay,' he said dopily, his voice carrying like a gong across the polar landscape and rebounding off the walls of the Dome, miles away. His full head of wild red hair was in stark contrast to the bluey-white of the snowy floor. He was feeling so tired. Which was rather depressing, for he had only woken up a few minutes ago. He looked about for the Duke's Goblin Protector. That tiny Ragwald fellow. Perhaps he would give Bolgus a little more of the sap he had been given yesterday.

Bolgus had been raised fully from sleep for the first time in many, many years yesterday, when Ella had raised his brother. He wondered if any other Giants had been roused by the vibration of the Great Gum. Probably not. Bolgus and Thomas had always been the only ones particularly attuned to that tree.

Bolgus had at once sought his brother in the Waters, an instinctive act of care. For the pulse came from the very part of the world where he and his brother used to live. Where his brother still lived underneath Australia. He had watched Thomas meeting with a young girl and a little boy. He had cried when his brother cried. Hollered when his brother hollered. Frowned when his brother frowned, even though he couldn't hear what was being said. Salivated as his brother took a sip of
what was clearly sap. Then he had had an idea.

He had followed the children's trajectory to Antarctica, intending to confront the girl who had woken his brother and himself. While he would not condescend to contact his distrusting brother, he was curious to know what was going on. He would demand that she tell him who she was and how, or even
if
it was she who had sent the pulse through the Spirit Tree. If she was important, he might hold her hostage until Magus acknowledged his innocence and his brother apologised for doubting him that day, so long ago, when the Clearheart had been killed in the whipwailing wind. He would insist that the little boy travelling with the girl tell him where he got that bottle of sap from so that he could go and get some more and life could go back to the way it was, before the terrible day of the wind. But just as was he was preparing to thrust himself up through the surface of the ice to snatch the girl in his hand, he had been distracted by the delicious, mouth-watering smell of sap coming through the ice floor some miles away. He had approached the smell and surfaced where the scent was most powerful, only to come face to face with the Elf Duke of Magus himself.

And now Bolgus was feeling really rather confused, not to mention more than a little annoyed and ever so nauseous from being above ground.

The last time he had been properly awake, he had turned his back on his brother and sworn never to talk to him again, setting off to another continent to sleep beneath the Earth's crust for as long as he possibly could. For he had seen mistrust in his brother's eyes when the Magicals had accused the Giants of being responsible for the Clearheart's death and the attempted kidnapping of the Queen, even though Bolgus had sworn to his brother that he had had nothing to do with any of it. Bolgus had sworn that he truly had got his foot trapped in a root coming out of the ground and that he truly hadn't been able to tear himself free of it, despite his strength. Otherwise he would have been keeping an eye on the Clearheart and the Queen as they worked. But Thomas had questioned him over and over until Bolgus could bear it no longer and had fled. For if his brother didn't trust him, how was anybody else going to? Bolgus knew his huff would wear off eventually. Or that Thomas would finally come to his senses, find him and apologise. He hadn't intended to never talk to his brother again. Not really. But with sap in such short supply, sleeping had taken over everything else in life. Until now.

However, in the short time since he had been reawakened and fed some of the Duke's special supply of sap, the Duke had told Bolgus stuff that was making him feel steadily less sure that
never talking to his brother again was such a bad idea after all.

The Duke had told Bolgus that the Magicals had never thought the Giants were responsible for the attempted kidnapping of the Queen. He had told Bolgus that it was in fact Thomas who had blamed Bolgus. Bolgus was shocked. Horrified. Perplexed. Hurt. And ultimately rather angry.

The Duke had told Bolgus that, if he were to help him collect a few bits and pieces from around the world, the Duke would permanently Shrinkify his brother, incarcerate him in the Magusian gaol for his betrayal and make Bolgus Lord of Gommoronahl. Bolgus wasn't sure how he felt about this. He wasn't sure that he wanted to be Lord of Gommoronahl, because he knew he had never been the sharpest tool in the toolbox. All Bolgus really wanted was for his brother not to have doubted his honesty in the first place. But he was all worked up right now, so he was going along with the Duke's plan.

The Duke looked out across the isolated, fresh expanse of his new domain. He was growing stronger and more cunning daily. What a magnificent idea of his allies it had been to come to Antarctica, where the air is clean and the environment so similar to that of Magus. It was not for nothing that the Duke and Saul had found allies able to draw limited amounts of sap from Spirit Trees. The Duke had planned to raise Bolgus himself,
but Ella had saved him the trouble by raising Lord Thomas of Gommoronahl and his brother Bolgus herself. He would have to remember to thank her.

Soon the Clearheart would be captured. How brilliantly shrewd Saul had been to suggest that they lure her to them rather than going to get her themselves, using the pixie as bait. The Duke crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Soon, very soon, he would have her Shrinkified. He would take her with him to Magus, where never before has a Flitterwig been, with a small number of minions, and there he would force her to command the Dewdrops to come back to Earth with him so that he could get on with more serious Shrinkification of machinery. Then he would overthrow Magus by force. Forget magic—violence was the answer. And all the while he would have access to the
Clearheart's tears to protect him from any polluting effects in either world.

Bolgus had begun snoring, his auburn head resting dolefully on the ice, the rest of his body tucked safely into the ground. The Duke called for Ragwald to bring some sap. He shot a laser of elf dust out of his forefinger, electrifying the poor oaf to his senses.

‘That wasn't very nice,' said the Giant. His bottom lip began to quiver. The Duke acted at once. He didn't want the dumb creature crying.

‘Just meant to wake you up, Bolgus my good man. So sorry if I alarmed you. Now don't be sad. Remember, soon we will have the Dewdrops. The Clearheart, as our prisoner, will be their guide and I will be their master. With them we will take Gommoronahl. They will sort out your sap problem and you will be Lord of your land.'

Bolgus nodded his massive head and gave a weak, if wide, squishy-mouthed smile, baring his craggy, grey teeth. He tried to feel like this was a good thing.

‘Can I have some more sap?' he asked needily.

Ragwald put a small globule on the ice. Bolgus's tummy rumbled like thunder and the simple creature forgot all about right and wrong for the moment as he licked the spot clean.

All Bolgus had to do in exchange for the Duke's loyalty was to bring the Stretchified Magical gold and oil and a few bits of metal sculpted by humans to blow things up. Thrusting his hand up through the Earth's crust to grab the machines might cause a spot of bother. For it wouldn't bode well for Giant anonymity at all if human objects were to keep disappearing into the ground. But Bolgus hadn't stopped to think about that. Luckily for Bolgus, army bases are not keen on publicising such freak occurrences. And no human would be able to see the Giant, so, for all the army knew, their weapons were about to be stolen by aliens (armies will believe almost anything except the truth), leaving nothing more than upturned earth in their wake.

Gold and oil from deep within the Earth's core were easy to provide. For, as a Giant, he had access to every part of the centre of the Earth. It was his job to protect these parts, after all. Who would miss a few bits and pieces? Last time he had been awake it seemed like humans were doing all they could to use it up anyway.

The Duke moved away from Bolgus, who could barely keep his eyes open. The Giant retreated into the heavy comforts of the soil and rock deep beneath them, leaving another mound of upturned snow and ice in his wake. The Duke swept inside, his reptilian tail dragging behind him. He called for his Protector,
Ragwald, to prepare the Waters. It was time to check how close the Clearheart was getting.

Saul, meanwhile, was hard at work in a removed wing of the Ulnus estate, working with the Dryad Flitterwigs to develop artificial sap, for there was little chance of getting much more from the already depleted Spirit Trees. Magic knew he was loving life right now. For without him, after all, the Ulnuses and the Duke would never have met. And the Duke would not be coming so close to realising his dream. Soon he would be among the first Flitterwigs to infiltrate the silvery liquid shores of the Magical Kingdom of Magus. There would be books written about him, stories whispered in his name. Who knew, perhaps one day there would be a statue erected in his honour!

The sounds coming from outside Ella and Charlie's tent were rather worrying to say the least. The bitter winds that had swept across them last night had settled, only to be replaced by a flapping and a shuffling and a honking. Not good.

‘What do you think it is?' Ella whispered to Charlie, who sat up dead straight. His white hair stood on end and his eyes were bright as stars.

‘It's some sort of water animal dialect,' Charlie whispered back.

‘Not whales!' breathed Ella through her teeth.

‘Have you ever heard of a whale hanging around out of water, you derr-brain?' whispered Charlie. He started to make gentle barking sounds. The shuffling outside stopped. A slightly aggressive ‘
pouff, pouff
' was the reply.

‘It's a seal!' Charlie grinned, proud to find his Animumble studies were coming to fruition so soon. ‘A fur seal!' Charlie made some more noise. He really was unbelievably good at Animumble, if he did say so himself.

‘What are you saying to it?' asked Ella, sitting on her feet. Harold hopped up onto her knee. She stroked his head to reassure him.

‘I'm asking if he's hungry,' said Charlie, barking some more.

‘What did he say?' asked Ella.

‘He said he's always hungry,' said Charlie.

Ella gulped.

‘He wants to know why we're here,' said Charlie.

‘What did you tell him?'

‘I said we're looking for a mountain pixie wearing green pants and a stripy top, but he said he has only seen ice pixies and snow pixies lately. They only wear white and blue.'

‘Is he going to eat us?' Ella asked.

‘Probably not. Seals don't really like to eat humans.' Charlie patted himself on the back for paying such attention in class when he used to go to normal school. ‘He might kill us though. He says it's kind of instinctual for him to attack the unknown, so we shouldn't go out yet.'

‘Oh, goodbye Germintrude, my dear,' whimpered Harold from his spot on Ella's knee, remembering, for the first time in weeks, his sister in the pond at Snoppit Farm. His lust for adventure had suddenly vanished into thin air. Ella only heard a croak.

‘Shut up,' said Charlie.

‘Please be quiet, I think is what you mean, Charles,' said Harold, sounding slighted.

‘I'm going out there,' said Charlie. Ella grabbed his anorak. ‘Don't worry, Ella. I think we'll be okay.'

Charlie moved towards the spot where the tent had magically split open yesterday. It split open for him again. A big grey furry head peered in, stinking of fish. It had a white throat with black spots. The seal's breath was so powerfully bad it almost knocked Charlie over. Even Ella, at the other end of the leafy tent, could smell it. Soft, round, brown eyes stared out of the head and long whiskers grazed the opening of the tent. Ella froze. So did Harold. Charlie, however, put out his hand and let the seal sniff it, grunting under his breath all the while.

‘I'm going to invite him in,' said Charlie quietly. ‘It seems the right thing to do.'

And so in waddled the seal. Into their stretched-leaf tent. Right up to Ella. He grunted at her. Ella tried not to inhale. Goodness, that seal had bad breath. Charlie grunted back. The seal's head heaved back and forth. He stared up into the air and opened his mouth. Ella held her nose and peered in. She thought she could see something festering in there, but she didn't want to look any closer. She turned to Charlie.

‘He thinks it's cool that I understand him and funny that you don't,' said Charlie. ‘He's never met any animal like us before!'

Ella smiled at the seal, but it wasn't a very genuine smile. ‘Great,' she said. ‘I'm being laughed at by a seal with halitosis.'

The seal obviously didn't feel the two children were much of a threat, for he rolled over on his back. Charlie moved over to him and scratched under his chin.

‘Could you scratch him behind there?' said Charlie to Ella, pointing at a spot above the seal's flipper. ‘He wants us to scratch all the itches he can't reach.' Ella did as she was told. The seal's fur was wet. It felt a bit like Noughts and Crosses, Granny's labradors, after they'd been swimming in the Dell. The seal's flipper twitched like a dog's leg does when it gets its belly scratched. Ella couldn't help smiling.

‘He's called Ralph,' said Charlie. ‘And he's very lonely. No other seal will spend time with him, you see, because of his smelly breath.' Ella looked at the seal and her eyes were understanding. She remembered what it had been like for her, being different and lonely because of it. She scuttled over to the hanky and peered into it, willing her instincts to guide her. Her hair flared as soon as she looked at the bark.

‘Tell him to open his mouth again,' said Ella. Charlie looked at her sideways. ‘Okay,' he said, rolling his eyes at Harold.

The seal did as he was asked and Ella, holding her nose tightly, peered in. She spotted the rotting tooth at once. Just as she had sensed. Feeling a little timorous, she put her hand gingerly into his mouth and laid the bark upon it.

‘He should be okay now,' she said, leaning back on her heels.

And he was. Within minutes, he was thanking Charlie and Ella and honking and snuffling for all he was worth.

‘How did you know to do that?' said Charlie. Ella shrugged.

‘My hair and my ears and my shoulders kind of told me,' she said. Charlie looked impressed.

‘He's going to take us to talk to the penguins,' said Charlie. ‘They might have seen something he hasn't.'

‘Okay,' said Ella, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. She reached for the globule of sap wrapped up in Thomas's giant hanky and, taking a tiny bit on her finger and popping it in her mouth, thought of muesli and milk and fresh orange juice.

Charlie didn't have time to do the same, for the tent collapsed on them. Then it shrunk to its original size, slipping under the children's bottoms and leaving them sitting on the freezing ice floor.

‘Cool,' said Charlie. ‘I was hoping it would sense when we
didn't need it to be a tent anymore.' Charlie thought of blueberry muffins as he tipped a drop of sap onto his tongue. Then he tucked the much-reduced globule carefully back into his hanky pack, thanking both it and the leaf as he did so. The leaf shuddered gratefully. For all things like to be appreciated. The seal said something to Charlie and Charlie looked at Ella uncertainly.

‘Fancy a ride on a seal?' he asked. ‘Because apparently the trip to the penguins is all downhill.'

‘Uh, not really,' said Ella, who couldn't even ride a horse. The seal nudged her shoulder, almost knocking her over. ‘But obviously it's very kind of you to offer us a lift and what I really meant was, that would be great, thanks.'

Charlie laughed and scrambled onto the big beast's back, translating as he did so. And unless Ella was much mistaken, she
thought the seal might have been having a bit of a chuckle too as she jumped up in front of Charlie. Not that she knew what he was laughing at. She had leapt up very elegantly, she thought.

Riding on a seal is really a lot of fun. Especially downhill. As they slid faster and faster down an endless incline, their eyes watering, their heads buried deep inside their hoods, the startling surroundings of the South Pole passing unseen, both Charlie and Ella couldn't help feeling grateful to be Flitterwigs. Charlie, feeling like a fine Protector now that they were living in the wilderness and his Animumble was proving so handy, even had the presence of mind to catch the water that ran from Ella's eyes in big, fat, shining tears. Harold whispered in Charlie's ear from his perch on the boy's shoulder. He would store the tears, he croaked, pleased to be useful. He hopped into Ella's anorak and, perching on her shoulder, opened his mouth.