Rampage! (25 page)

Infuriated, Matias let go of Aries’ horn and unsheathed his sword to leap at Alex.

Behind him,
Señor
Granddad leered and drew the knife to one side of Aries’ throat, ready to kill him. Alex
felt a sickening swell of terror. Aries snorted, aware of the danger beyond the blindfold. Ducking as Matias’s blade now swished passed him a hair’s-breadth from his neck, Alex thought furiously, swinging his sword in the air to deflect another furious lunge.

Then he had it.

‘Aries!’ he yelled, summoning up every ounce of strength to shout over the clatter of steel against iron. ‘Remember to shut in the fire-breathing bulls!’

Aries whinnied in confusion. Then, suddenly understanding, he hurled his head up roughly, away from the knife, and rose on to his back legs. Spinning round, he dropped down, bringing his rump round, and gave an almighty kick with his back hoofs.

‘What the?’ spluttered the old man as Aries twisted up and away from his grasp.

The gate back at the Zoo had always stuck horribly, you see, jamming into the dried earth before it could close the creatures in safely and it had always been one of Aries’ special jobs to shut it with a ferocious back kick, slamming it into the catch. Now, instead of an iron gate, his powerful hooves caught
Señor
Granddad squarely in the back and sent him sprawling forwards.

His cries chimed with the chorus of wails and moans from Carlos and Enrique. Which would have been a truly triumphant moment, except that Matias was back.

Red-faced and furious, he bounced towards Alex over the ground as if it were a springboard. Up, down, left, right, he danced, his sword tracing gleaming curves in
the air as Alex held up his sword like a lance. The Spaniard’s blade chinked and jangled against the iron, angry as a hornet. Then, dipping down, he clipped Alex’s face. Alex felt the trickle of blood, hot over his cheek, and saw the conquistador’s face, smiling as he sensed triumph, and stepped closer, sweeping his sword up from below. Galvanised by shock and fury, Alex brought his sword down, letting it fall under its own thundering weight, and caught the silver sword close to its hilt. The conquistador yelped, feeling the blow jar his hand as a sudden snapping noise, like ice cracking on a frozen pond, rang through the clearing and the blade, sheared clean from its handle, toppled into the dirt.

Yay! 

          Alex! 

                     And
touché
, as they say in snooty sword-fighting circles.

‘Villain!’ roared Matias, just as Grass Snake slithered down into his boot.

Whoo-hoo!

           Grass Snake!

                       Scaly star!

No longer the most timid of the snakes but the only one brave enough to share air with a five-hundred-year-old soldier’s sock. Two seconds after the tip of his tail vanished, Matias’s eyes grew wild and, shrieking, he hopped into the trees, waving his hands wildly over his head.

‘What a team!’ cheered Alex, running over and snatching the blindfold from Aries’ eyes.

Rearing up lopsidedly to spare his injuries, Aries paddled the air with his front hooves and landed with a soft whump. Alex threw his arms around the ram’s neck as Matias’s shouts rang from the trees, squealing at the squirming around his toes. Groaning and mumbling, the other soldiers lay dazed, barely stirring as the jungle slowly returned to its jangle of shrieks and chatters.

‘Victory!’ trilled the Gorgon, rolling her amber eyes as Krait and Viper zigzagged back into place.

Which was when Rose’s voice rang out behind them.

‘I command you spirits! Be at peace!’

Astonished, Alex and Aries spun round to see her striding across the clearing towards them.

‘Rose!’ they cried together in delight.

Throwing down the sword, Alex ran towards her. Aries whinnied and galloped behind him, snorting in delight. She was safe! She was all right! They’d made it to her in time after all!

Except that she didn’t reply or smile. Instead, with her face a mask of fierce concentration, she uncorked a small flask and began dribbling purple liquid on to the first grave in the row.

Alex and Aries exchanged confused glances, hearing her murmuring, her voice low and stern.

‘Return to your rest!’

Instantly, a loud sucking noise echoed around the clearing and, behind him, Alex realised that
Señor
Granddad was struggling to his feet. Turning, he gaped as the old man’s face lost its ruddiness and faded away to
white. The colours drained from his striped pants. His helmet dimmed to grey, its feathers paled from red to misty pink. There was a shudder of movement at the old man’s feet and Alex glanced down to see a silvered stream of air wrapping about the conquistador’s disappearing boots. Slowly, like a cyclone in slow motion, the twisting air enveloped the soldier, higher and higher, rising like a magically spinning cocoon until he was wholly engulfed. Next, it lifted clear of the ground and began moving, floating over the earth and pausing above what Alex assumed must be the man’s grave. Then, like a wisp of smoke, it was gone.

‘Rose? What are you doing?’ cried Alex, feeling bewildered and frightened as Rose turned to dribble liquid on the two neighbouring graves.

With a whistle, a second spiral of sparkling air swirled out of the trees, spitting out Grass Snake with a bump, before hovering over the next grave and disappearing. A third, smelling of onions, twisted furiously, sped past and vanished.

About to walk to the last Spanish grave, Rose smiled up at Alex, but her expression instantly flipped to one of horror.

‘Behind you!’ she shrieked.

Alex whirled round.

Matias filled his view, lurching towards him out of the bushes, bringing the strange wooden weapon up to his shoulder in one fluid move. Catching the tang of something acrid and bitter wafting from its tip, Alex stepped reflexively
backwards, feeling shock course through his veins, shock that stretched everything into a terrible slow motion so that he could see the gleam in Matias’s bloodshot eyes, the dirty brown stains on his teeth and hear the icy-cold click of something metallic halfway down the weapon’s length. The small black hole at the end of the weapon jutted towards his nose as he heard Rose’s feet pound past, sprinting headlong towards the man’s grave. But she was too far away to use whatever was in the flask; she’d never make it in time. Beside him, Aries snorted in horror. Just as what appeared to be a large wooden hammer swung into view above Matias’s head and struck him neatly on the head. There was a dull clonk as Matias’s legs crumpled beneath him and the weapon tumbled from his grasp. Breathless with relief, Alex looked up to see a neatly bearded man standing where Matias had been. Wearing a ruffled lace collar, not to mention the maddest ballooning trousers he’d ever seen, the man beamed, twirling the mallet as he fell into a flamboyant bow.

‘I see a kindred soldier also ill-met by Spaniards,’ he said, his eyebrows shooting into his hair as the shield snakes stretched out for a better look. ‘Wat Raleigh. At your service!’

XXVI

A
LL
T
HAT
G
LISTENS

Well, hooray for croquet!

And for trick shots like the one Wat had just performed, taught to him by the long-dead Duchess of Formby,
57
which had proved as useful on conquistadors’ heads as it had been to thwack balls lying far from the next hoop and half-hidden under his mother’s rhododendrons.

And hooray for Rose, too! For sending the conquistadors back to where they came from with an equally splendid flourish.

Oh, hang on a minute.

I appear to be the only one cheering …

Not that Rose had noticed because she was far too busy stuffing the cork back into the flask to stopper up the remaining potion – oh, and ducking the swirl of ghostly grey, the last spectral sparkle of Matias, whipping over her head to vanish into the soil of his grave – to notice the singular lack of applause. Exhilarated by her success, she beamed at Wat, now certain that she could
help him too, and, turning, flung her arms around Alex. Tears of happiness welled up in her eyes as she hugged him tightly and, reaching down to rub Aries’ head, she could hardly believe that not only were her truest friends back up on Earth and right beside her in the jungle, but she’d actually been able to protect them with her magic.

Her
own
magic!

Which was when she noticed that Alex wasn’t hugging her back. And, that Aries was edging away behind him, his eyes clouded and nervous, fixed on the flask in her hand. Even the snakes were coiled, quiet as worm casts on a beach, silently framing the Gorgon’s face that now regarded her suspiciously through slits of glittering amber.

Stepping out of her embrace, Alex looked at her as coolly as though she were a stranger. Confused, she watched as he slowly lifted his hand to reach into her hair, fumbling with the tangled ringlets to draw out a lone spiral. Seeing his face crumple, she slid her eyes quickly sideways and gasped, astounded to see a streak of pure silver nestling amongst her curls as vivid and stark as the violet stripe in Medea’s hair. She gaped, dumbfounded, and, seeing the revulsion on Alex’s face, felt her triumph crash-land in the dust.

‘Forsooth, boy,’ muttered Wat, dusting his gravestone with his handkerchief before leaning against it. ‘Art thou surprised? She’s the witch’s helper.’

‘The witch’s helper?’ repeated Alex flatly.

Behind him, Aries whined in confusion and Rose caught her breath at the miserable sound. She wanted
to step forward, to rub his head, to stop the terrible sound of his distress and, looking from him to Alex, at their matching expressions of confusion and horror, she felt her heartbeat start to gallop.

‘I can explain everything,’ she said. ‘You see, I’ve found my father!’

A smile fluttered over Alex’s lips and vanished. ‘That’s wonderful,’ he said thinly. ‘Really,’ he added, running his hand through his hair. ‘I’m glad for you.’

‘But he’s ill,’ continued Rose. ‘Really sick in his mind. Medea said he stumbled into the village a few months ago, but since then he just sits under a tree, staring into space, day after day. He has no idea who I am.’ She heard her voice trembling as she thought back to his hollowed-out face. ‘He doesn’t even know who
he
is.’ Rose took a deep breath and carried on. ‘Medea told me that something truly dreadful must have happened to the expedition in the jungle, something that made his mind shut down because it’s too awful to remember it. She said I’d never get him out of the village without her help.’

‘And you believed her?’ asked Alex, wide-eyed.

‘Yes.’ Rose stared back at him. ‘You should see him, Alex! He totally freaks if you even try to move him. And she proved to me how easily her magic could bring him back. Like that!’ she snapped her fingers in the air. ‘She told me things he’d shared with her, things from before he went away. Things that she couldn’t possibly have known any other way.’

Alex looked away and Rose felt a sour nervousness
curdle in her stomach. ‘Medea promised that she’d show me how to cure my father if I helped her.’

‘Oh, Rose!’ groaned Alex. He looked up at her, his eyes bright with alarm. ‘Please tell me you haven’t helped her.’

‘You don’t understand,’ said Rose defiantly.

‘Understand?’ Alex spluttered. ‘Of course I don’t understand! Rose, when we heard that Medea was heading to the same coordinates as the Scroll gave you, we thought you were in danger! We came back to protect you from her.’ His expression grew cold. ‘Or at least the Rose we thought we knew!’

‘But I am still the same Rose!’

‘Do you think so?’ Alex shook his head. ‘Only the Rose we knew wouldn’t have listened to a word Medea said. She’d never have helped her. She’d never have used filthy sorcery on ghosts!’

Rose gasped. ‘What was I supposed to do? Those soldiers were trying to hurt you!’ Anger seared through her, scorching her face, making her head pound. ‘And besides,’ she added, ‘I only sent them back to where they belong. I was putting things right again!’

Alex stared at her in disbelief. ‘With sorcery, Rose? Think! When have you truly seen her magic do anything good?’

Rose tightened her grip on the flask. Staring into Alex’s anguished face, she felt all her earlier doubts starting to trickle through the solid wall of reasons to help Medea that she’d built in her mind.

‘Look, I know how it sounds, Alex. Really, I do. And it totally wasn’t an easy decision for me to make. But you have to understand that this is my father we’re talking about.’

‘
And
Medea,’ said Alex. ‘After everything we went through in the summer, Rose, how could you be so blind? So selfish?’

‘I’m not blind or selfish!’ Rose felt her throat tighten with anger. ‘I just want my father back! And helping Medea is my only chance to do that. She proved to me that it works. She said, she said ––’

Rose scrunched up her face, searching for the right words. But all the right words had suddenly vanished under the rising swell of doubt that Alex had released. She tried to stem its flow, telling herself that if she stopped helping the sorceress now, then everything would be hopeless, certain of how the story would end for her father.

Shaking her head, she stepped backwards, wishing that she could simply jam her fingers in her ears and make him stop.

She didn’t want to hear what he was going to say next.

She didn’t want to hear any of it.

‘Rose,’ he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder. ‘Nothing in the world, nothing at all, is worth helping Medea.’

Unstoppably, the truth of what he was saying now surged through her mind in a freezing torrent, sweeping away all her earlier certainties. She gasped, appalled as every reason she’d soothed her conscience with now
bobbed, splintered and broken, in the deluge. She pressed her fists to her eyes, trying to stem the big, hot tears welling there, as an image of the London theatre returned to her. Seeing Alex beside her, huddled with Hazel on the stage with the pop star’s screams dying away in her ears, she remembered the sheer relief of knowing that they had stopped the sorceress’s cruelty.

‘I’ve been so stupid,’ she gasped.

She felt her chest tighten with panic and shame and remorse, knowing that every moment of learning from Medea, every yearning step on the way to helping her father, despite her best intentions, had been utterly and totally wrong. Deep inside she’d always known it – of course she had, she was sensible, kind Rose – but she’d been so desperate, so headstrong, so determined to make things right that she’d joined forces with Medea as cheerfully as boarding a roller coaster. Strapping herself in and setting her hands on the bar as the ride had started moving, she’d let it crank up the rails, taking her higher and higher with it whilst she’d made herself ignore the bumps and creaks of her own conscience, stuffing every clanking fear about what she was doing into a dark corner of her mind, simply so that she could get what she wanted.

Worse, she’d actually enjoyed it.

Now, as the tears began streaming down her face, she thought about the magic she’d performed over the last few days and felt the dizzying certainty that somehow curing her father made everything else all right
vanish away to nothing, leaving her feeling absolutely disgusted with herself.

Gently, Alex put his arm around her shoulder and, feeling horribly unworthy of his friendship, she cried harder still. Minutes later, she finally looked up and wiped her face roughly with the back of her hand.

She’d never felt more wretched in her life.

For a long moment, no one said anything.

At least until Aries gave Rose a big, rough, rammy lick on the shoulder.

‘We all fool ourselves sometimes,’ he said, ignoring the shocked gasp from Wat.
58

Flicking a knowing look at Alex, Aries settled his muzzle on her shoulder and continued.

‘Even if we know deep down that something is wrong, we can still let ourselves be taken in by other people, by how they appear and what we think they offer us.’

‘Fie!’ said Wat. ‘Thou art indeed a strange creature, but you speak the truth. We can all be made clowns. Like Lady Francesca of Windermere and me. She was so charming, I didn’t know my beard from my elbow.’

‘And,’ said Adder, jabbing Alex rudely on the knee, ‘jus-s-st like you and Jas-s-son.’

Alex glared at him and Adder instantly coiled back on to the shield.

‘Jason?’ said Rose, her surprise for a moment dousing her misery. ‘Is he here too?’

‘He was,’ muttered Alex.

So that was why Medea had been so jumpy all morning, she thought.
Jason?
The man who’d betrayed her so brutally was back on Earth?
He
was the reason the sorceress appeared to have swapped her brain for a bath sponge?

Rose looked at Alex, willing him to go on.

‘Athena insisted he lead us in the quest back to Earth,’ he explained. ‘She decided it was time that Medea paid for all the crimes she’s committed over the centuries.’ He walked over to Aries, unbuckled a saddlebag and lifted out the statuette she’d glimpsed in the scry bowl. ‘That’s why she wanted Jason to hand her this.’

Rose raised her eyebrows at Alex. ‘A statue?’

‘Not any old statue,’ replied Alex. He turned it over gently in his hands.

Sunlight glinted from its sharp, spiky wings and unforgiving face. Now, looking more closely, Rose noticed flashes of red, orange and blue light skittering about inside it.

‘It’s filled with the Greek spirits of vengeance,’ said Alex.

‘Three goddesses,’ continued Aries, under his breath, ‘who’ll drag Medea, kicking and screaming, down to the Underworld prison.’

Rose shuddered and looked around the clearing.

‘So, where is he then?’

‘Gone,’ said Alex coldly. ‘Ran away.’

Rose’s mind flipped back to the journal she’d read the night before, and the way Jason had freaked out
amongst the bone men and had flatly refused to climb the serpent’s coils.

Grass Snake loomed up in front of her. ‘Firs-s-st he refus-s-sed to help Alex when Ariesss wasss attacked by a terrible three-headed jaguar.’

‘See,’ said Aries, turning his left side to her to show her the tattered dressings beneath the harness before tilting his head down and rolling his eyes towards his broken horn. Feeling her heart clench at the sheared-off twist, Rose leaned over and kissed his head.

‘And now he’sss run off and left usss behind altogether,’ added Grass Snake, looking up at her with furious ball bearings of eyes. ‘With the key!’

‘What key?’ said Rose.

‘The key to the Underworld, of cours-s-se,’ shrilled Grass Snake, flopping back on to the shield. ‘I don’t know how we’ll ever get home again!’

As Grass Snake continued to wail, Rose recalled the enormous key on Medea’s shelf and how puzzled she’d been to see it in a village without a single lock.

‘Was it long and black?’ she said. ‘Attached to a little carved parrot on a chain?’

‘Yes,’ said Alex, exchanging surprised looks with Aries and the snakes. ‘But how could you know that?’

‘Because it’s been hanging in the sorceress’s hut for days.’

‘Days?’ said Alex.

Aries stamped his hoof in the mud. ‘Then Jason must have lost it when were locked up!’

‘Which is why he was so keen to get on with the quest when he came back to the hotel,’ said Alex sourly.

‘And,’ sighed Aries, ‘it explains why he came back to find us at all.’

‘More lies,’ muttered Alex. He shrugged sadly at Rose. ‘I was so convinced I knew what he was like. Just like a stubborn goat.’

‘More like a goat with a bucket on his head,’ said Aries. ‘Like this.’ He started walking backwards, swinging his head left and right, warming to his theme, the harness jangling as he flung his enormous behind from side to side, and despite her dismay Rose had to stifle a small giggle. ‘“Oh, no Aries,”’ he said, waggling the fans hanging from the back of the tackle. ‘“You are completely mistaken about him! Please don’t say such rude things about Jason-Sparkly-Sandals.”’

‘Do you mind?’ grumbled Alex, but Rose was relieved to see that he was smiling for the first time since they’d met again.