Authors: Colin Thompson
The poor Queen was torn up with mixed emotions. Part of her
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yearned to return to the land of her birth, as long as she didn't have to be
anywhere near the King, but another part of her
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was devastated at the thought of leaving the country where her true love was imprisoned.
âI am not homesick,' she said. âIn fact, were I to go home now, it would make me very sick indeed.'
âWhy is that, Mother?' Mordonna asked.
âWell, I need hardly say that the last person I ever want to see again is your father,' said the Queen. âBut my heart aches at the thought of leaving the
country where my one true love is held trapped in a cage like some defenceless wild animal.'
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âYes, of course, Mother,' said Mordonna. âWe cannot even think of leaving here without first rescuing Vessel.'
The others all nodded. This was something they tried not to think about. They knew they would have to save Vessel, but they also knew how incredibly dangerous it would probably be.
âDon't worry, Granny,' Betty whispered into her grandmother's backpack. âWe'll think of something.'
âOf course,' said Mordonna, âthat is the place above all others where the Hearse Whisperer is most likely to be waiting for us.'
âCould we not somehow convince her that we had fled and deserted him?' said Valla.
âMaybe, but I doubt we could fool her.'
âDon't worry, Granny,' said Winchflat, still feeling the pain from losing his beloved Igorina.
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âWe will find a way to rescue your sweetheart.'
âThere's a good boy,' said the Queen, tapping Winchflat on the ankle.
âFirst we need somewhere safe to hide,' said Nerlin, âso we can work out a rescue plan.'
âLet's try and find a hippy encampment,' said Mordonna. âSomewhere we can try and blend in.'
Blending in anywhere for the Floods was about as likely as a stick of dynamite blending in with a bonfire.
They drove inland until they reached soft green rolling hills and little valleys of quaint villages full of rich city slickers who were âreassessing and changing their lives in a deep and meaningful way by leaving the hustle and bustle of the city for a tranquil life in the country', which meant what they were actually doing was
taking all the city stuff with them, but with more flowers.
âThis is pretty,' said Mordonna.
âI know â horrible, isn't it?' said Betty.
âDon't think we'll find many hippies around here,' said Winchflat. âIn fact, I think if we stopped they'd chase us out of town.'
âSo how do we actually find some hippies?' said Valla.
âWell, I thought if we could find one of these commune things where they all live together in a muddy field full of old buses and vans, we could hide out there for a while until we work out exactly what to do,' said Winchflat.
âYes, but how do we find a commune?'
âMaybe it would be easier to avoid all the places where we would never find one,' said Valla. âLike here in golf club paradise. I mean, even the grass is standing neatly to attention here.'
âGood idea, sweetheart,' said Mordonna. She turned to her husband, who had managed to drive for over three kilometres without hitting anything
or leaving the road. âAre we not blessed to have such wonderfully clever and talented children, my darling?'
âIndeed we are,' said Nerlin, who knew which side of the family their kids had got their brains from. âDo you think it's catching? Because I could do with a bit more clever.'
They drove down more winding country lanes that gradually stopped winding, and through more soft green valleys that gradually stopped being soft and green, and began climbing until they came out onto a wide flat moorland where the trees were no more than scrubby bushes and the earth huddled in small piles between big grey rocks. There were no houses here, no fences, no telephone wires, almost no sign that humans had ever set foot there, apart from a few scruffy sheep that were attempting to eat the last scrappy bits of green in this desolate place.
âThis is more like it,' said Valla. âNo one would live up here if they could afford not to.'
âThough, of course, humans must have been
here at some point,' said Betty. âOtherwise there wouldn't even be a road.'
âYes,' said Mordonna. âAnd a road has a beginning and an end so it must go somewhere.'
âIf you ask me,' said Valla, looking out at the endless expanse of desolation, âit looks like the road to nowhere.'
Which was a Very Wise thing to say, because they drove between some huge boulders, turned a corner and there, pointing down a dirt track off into the distance, was a sign.
It said:
âNow, that's my kind of place,' said Valla and they turned off down the track.
The track to Nowhere led up into a range of bleak mountains. Its surface was covered in rock and potholes and deep puddles, yet there were tyre tracks in the mud that looked to be fairly recent. The small clumps of scrubby grass that had clung to the side of the road gradually vanished until everything, as far
as the eye could see, was grey and lifeless.
âThis is my kind of countryside,' said Valla. âNo nasty flowers and pretty stuff, just a grey lifeless expanse.'
âJust like you, my darling,' said Mildred.
âYou too, cuddlecorpse,' said Valla.
âYeuuch,' said Betty.
Then the signs began.
At first they were faint, like chalk that had been rained on. The first one, on a rock half-sunk into the ground, said:
It was followed almost immediately by another that said:
âDo you think we should go back?' said Betty.
âNo. They look ancient,' said Winchflat. âProbably been there for years.'
The next sign did not look ancient. It was on a white metal post and in neat black paint it said:
âI had a great-aunt called Anthrax,' said Mordonna.
âThey've spelt dangerous wrong,' said Betty.
said the next sign.
said the next, followed by:
âBrilliant, said Nerlin. âJust what we're looking for â hippies.'
âCould be all fake,' said Winchflat. âCould be a top secret military germ warfare research establishment pretending to be hippies.'
âGerm warfare?' said the twins. âBrilliant.'
They reached the highest part of the track and the ground levelled out between giant boulders. Low clouds swirled around the mountain tops above them and the air grew sharp and cold. Behind them, the grey deserted plain looked grey and deserted, which it was apart from the sheep, who didn't count because sheep are more like walking vegetables than proper thinking creatures.
There was one last sign.