Authors: Kate Saunders
Pindar looked so dismayed that Tom gave him an encouraging nudge, and whispered, “There must be some way we can get round it—I’m not giving up!” But he was worried too.
It’s no use, he thought—I don’t care about the Realm as much as I care about Pindar, and I don’t want him to be the One Good Falconer; I want him to live with us at the deli. But if Dolores wasn’t Pindar’s mother, Pindar wasn’t his cousin. It was very puzzling, when he looked so much like her.
“I don’t want to hurry anyone,” said Abdul, “but the boys must move on to somewhere safer—the market is swarming with Ali Kazoum’s spies.”
“It is all arranged,” Cassim said cheerfully. “My sister has provided perfect disguises to get them through every checkpoint!” He picked up a Sainsbury’s plastic bag and pulled out yards and yards of pink and mauve chiffon, two little sequined caps and two pairs of pink satin shoes.
“Hang on,” Tom said suspiciously. “Those are girls’ clothes, aren’t they? I mean, I know you guys like quite girly colors …” His cheeks were hot. He didn’t want to
offend anyone, but he really didn’t want to wear pink satin shoes.
“Ali Kazoum is expecting two beautiful dancing slave girls,” Cassim explained. “He doesn’t know we’ve already intercepted them and told them their booking’s canceled. You two will go in their places, and Clarence’s Hoppers will pick you up on the way.” He held up one of the sequined caps. “You see, it has this rather sweet little pink veil to hide your face.”
“You’re JOKING!” Tom was horrified. How could he ever face Charlie or his other mortal friends again, knowing he’d once dressed as a girl?
He caught Pindar’s eye, and they couldn’t help laughing at each other’s shocked faces.
“They’re a bit thin for dancing girls,” Abdul said doubtfully. “Especially Ali Kazoum’s—his girls have such magnificent figures that people call them the Pillows of the Desert.”
“We will stuff them!” someone cried. There was another ripple of genie laughter.
Tom and Pindar looked at each other.
“Oh well,” Pindar said. “It can’t be worse than flying through the sewers.”
The godmothers and Milly giggled so much at their disguises that they forgot about being angry with Tom for jumping on Abdul’s carpet.
“What pretty eyes you both have!” Milly cried. “Those dinky little veils really set them off!”
“Yeuchh!” said the two boys, tearing off the veils and cushions and pink slippers as if they’d been red-hot, and that made the godmothers giggle harder.
These curvy dancing girls had left Genietown in a white Rolls-Royce that had been stolen from Ali Kazoum. They had driven up into the deepest part of the forest, and Clarence Mustard’s men had bundled them into a cart and set fire to the Rolls-Royce. They were now back in Clarence’s flowery sitting room.
Tom had wrapped the jar of sun-dried tomatoes in two cushions and a scarf. Thankfully, since his mother was magically sealed in the jar, she’d survived the journey to the Realm. Taking it out carefully, he handed it to Clarence for safekeeping. He noticed that Lorna looked unusually smart. Instead of her jumpsuit, she wore a blue skirt and matching jacket. Iris wore white gloves and a feathered hat, as if she were off to a wedding. Milly had put her huge white dress back on. And Dahlia wore her barrister’s wig and gown.
Suddenly he knew why they were all dressed up. “It’s my dad’s trial, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s tomorrow.” Lorna patted his shoulder. “We’re setting off after supper.”
“I’m very glad you managed to get hold of these
tomatoes,” Delia said. “Well done. We should be all right, if only Milly can remember who murdered her.”
Milly shrugged crossly. “I’ve told you until I was blue in the face, I CAN’T remember any more! It was probably my brother Tiberius. He’s always killing people.”
“But he’s got an alibi, and so has Dolores! At the time of your murder everyone was watching them open the ball with a nude waltz. Who was working for him?”
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Clarence was suddenly in the room, in front of the fireplace.
“Good grief!” Lorna gasped. “Stop doing that!”
“I beg your pardon, but it’s the fastest way to travel. I’ve been giving a rousing speech to my troops—enjoy yourselves, by all means, I said, but don’t leave too much of a mess. Ah, my dear boys!” Clarence smiled at Tom and Pindar. “Well done, both of you.”
“We saw my mother,” Pindar said. “And she says she’s not my mother.”
The legendary outlaw was solemn. “So my contacts told me. It must’ve been a terrible shock.”
“Do you … do you know anything about my real mother?”
“I’m afraid not. And neither does Terence.”
“What about you, Auntie Milly?”
Poor old Pindar, Tom thought; I’d hate it if I suddenly didn’t know who my real mother was.
“No, I don’t,” Milly said. “But—”
She stopped. They all looked at her.
“Something’s niggling at me, that’s all—oh, what is it? I see a face—hear a voice—then it’s gone.”
The floor suddenly shifted under Tom’s sneakers, and he fell over. The ornaments on the mantelpiece danced like puppets. A flowered vase toppled off and shattered in the fireplace.
“The mountain’s quaking, all right!” Clarence yelled joyfully. “I’ve never known anything like it!”
The quaking stopped, and the boys and fairies picked themselves up. Tom brushed plaster dust off his T-shirt. A few days ago, he thought, I’d have been terrified by an earthquake; now I’m hardly even shocked.
“It’s been rumbling ever since Pindar came to Hopping Hill.” Clarence snapped his fingers a few times to tidy the wrecked room. (Tom thought how humans would love to be able to do this.)
“Please don’t say I’m the One Good Falconer!” Pindar blurted out. “I’d be totally useless at leading the Realm!”
“You’ll soon get the hang of it,” said Clarence.
Tom and Pindar gave each other despairing looks—why wouldn’t anyone listen?
“Knickers!” muttered Lorna. “I’ve got a run in these stupid tights! I still don’t see what’s wrong with my jumpsuit!”
“The High Fairy Court is not a scrapyard,” Dahlia said. “We have to look smart.”
“Sit down, everyone!” Clarence called. “Supper’s ready!”
The round table where they’d had tea was now spread with a hearty supper of stew and roast potatoes. Tom and Pindar made pleased faces at each other. But Pindar was sad and quiet during the meal and Tom wished he could offer some comfort. All day, since seeing Dolores, he’d been thinking about what Mum had said in his dream, about Pindar’s mother. “She loved him very much” sounded as if Pindar’s real mother might be dead—and that was the last thing he needed to hear now.
After apple crumble and cups of tea Clarence said, “Right, girls—time for you to start out for the trial.”
It was a long journey from Hopping Hill to the High Fairy Court. The three godmothers and Milly were traveling by flying coach, and despite being so anxious, Tom was very interested to see one of these. It looked like a small mortal coach with no wheels, and hovered a few centimeters off the ground outside Clarence’s hideout.
“This is like the one I drove,” Pindar told him. “They’re light to handle, but I never got the hang of the steering.”
Lorna, who was driving, squeezed herself in behind the wheel. “I’m glad you’re staying here, Tom—you’ll be much safer and you can watch the trial on television.”
“The entire Realm waits with bated breath,” Iris said solemnly. “Tomorrow could be the day the Falconers’ power crumbles—Milly, I told you to sit in the back behind the smoked windows! You’re supposed to be a secret!”
Dahlia shook hands with Clarence and kissed Tom and Pindar.
“Good luck,” said Tom. “And when you see my dad …” He wanted to say, “Tell him I love him,” but the words wouldn’t come out.
Dahlia smiled kindly. “I know. Don’t worry, Tom!” She jumped into the flying coach and slammed the door just as Lorna started the engine.
“Oh my GARTERS!” Milly’s voice shrieked suddenly, in the middle of takeoff. “I REMEMBER!”
“E
xcellent,” said Clarence. “I can see that tomorrow’s trial is going to be splendid entertainment.” Tom thought this was a rather heartless way to talk about it, when his dad might be condemned to death. “If Milly’s memory has come back, does that mean Dahlia will win?”
“Yes, of course,” Clarence said in a surprised way, as if this was a silly question. “We’ll need to set out early so we get to the big screen in plenty of time.” He led the two boys back into the hideout and to a small room with two single beds. It was windowless, but the lamplight made it look comfortable, and it was great to
get into bed—Tom had only just realized how exhausted he was.
“This day has been like three days for the price of one,” he said, with a mighty yawn. “I hope Milly’s remembered who really killed her. If she has, they’ll have to free my dad.”
This hadn’t hit him until now—by this time tomorrow, he could be back at home with his parents. For a moment he was filled with intense, painful longing.
“Tom,” Pindar said from the next bed, “I’ve been thinking.”
“What about?”
“I hate to say this, but I don’t know if I should go back with you.”
“What?” Tom sat up, forgetting about being tired. “Why not? Don’t tell me it’s this One Good Falconer thing!”
“Everybody seems to think it’s me,” Pindar said sadly. “I’ve a horrible feeling I should … I don’t know … do my duty.”
“But you don’t want to?”
“No. You know I’d much rather live with you.”
“Then let someone else lead the Realm!”
“Look, Tom, you have to admit it’s different now. If Dolores isn’t my mother, you’re not my cousin.”
“But …” There was nothing to say to this. The
thought of going back to his old life without Pindar was incredibly disappointing. Tom had secretly set his heart on Pindar coming with him to his new school, and helping in the deli on Saturday mornings.
“And there’s something else,” Pindar said, his face reddening. “I need to stay in the Realm to find my real mother.”
“Oh—I mean, of course.”
“I’d love to know what she’s like,” Pindar said. “She’s bound to be nicer than Dolores.”
He sounded so wistful that Tom wanted to cheer him up. “Maybe my dad will be able to help you. All the godmothers say he’s really brilliant at magic. And you could still come and visit us, couldn’t you?”
“That’d be wicked—if your parents wouldn’t mind.” Pindar brightened. “So what if we’re not cousins? Nothing can stop us being friends.”
“No way,” said Tom, grinning and suddenly feeling a lot better. “Not when we’ve been covered in sewage and disguised as two fat dancing girls, all in one day. That sort of thing makes you friends forever.”
“I swear that policeman at the last checkpoint fancied you!” said Pindar.
“Bog off!”
The two of them shook with laughter, and Tom was still smiling when he fell asleep.
*
The big screen was set up on Dragon’s Lawn, the largest open space on Hopping Hill. After a breakfast of tea and porridge cooked over a campfire, Tom and Pindar walked there with Clarence. The road was crowded with every kind of magical creature.
“The word has gone out,” Clarence said, smiling. “The anti-Falconers are gathering from all over the Realm, and from the mortal world.” He nodded towards two nearby fairies in mortal nurses’ uniforms. “Those foolish Falconers have gone too far this time. They seem to be the only people who don’t know they’re doomed!”
“Nobody will have told them anything,” Pindar said. “My father kills anyone who brings him bad news. You can’t even tell him when it’s raining.”
It was a cloudless morning. The silvery sunlight of the Realm made the woods and meadows of Hopping Hill look beautiful, and everyone was in such high spirits that Tom couldn’t help feeling optimistic. Fairies jostled around them, laughing and singing, carrying large picnic baskets, as if they were on their way to a football game or an outdoor concert.
He saw wiry goblins with semitransparent ears. He saw a group of tiny pixies in bright emerald green, packed into the back of a cart—they called and waved to Clarence as they passed. There was a large party of white-bearded gnomes, far less goofy-looking than the ones you saw in mortal gardens. He was a little nervous
when two fierce-looking leopards went by, pulling a large cooler on wheels, until they raised their paws in a salute to Clarence, and he explained that they were demifurs, like Terence.
“Wow, this is amazing,” Tom said to Pindar. “I’ll never be able to talk to anyone about this when I get home. They just wouldn’t believe a word of it!”
“I wish I knew why those girls keep pointing and tittering at me!” Pindar muttered. “Do I look weird or something?”
A group of girl fairies were following them in a tightly packed huddle, all giggling and gaping at Pindar.
“Not weird,” Tom said, “just handsome.”
“You mean they’re acting like this because they think I’m handsome?” Pindar shook his head. “I’ll never understand girls!”
The thick forest opened out into an enormous clearing, packed with the creatures of the Realm.
“Wow!” breathed Tom.
A huge white screen stood at one end of the open-air arena. As the leader of the outlaws, Clarence was led to a special roped-off section near the front; they would have a wonderful view of the trial. The outlaws (no longer wearing their masks) set out comfortable chairs and served coffee and pastries. Everyone had brought food—the warm, bright, still air was hazy with the smoke of a thousand campfires and barbecues.
Tom was still very worried about his parents, but the party atmosphere was infectious. There was a flash like lightning, and the big screen flickered into life—not showing the trial, but pictures of the crowd. Just like mortals at a football game, people kept seeing themselves on the big screen and going crazy. It was all very entertaining.
The screen suddenly showed a group of genies, and the boys yelled, “Abdul!”
Abdul was in the middle of eating a kebab and it took him a couple of minutes to realize he was on the screen—his shocked expression when he finally saw himself made the boys fall about laughing.