The Little Secret (15 page)

“I know,” Staffa said. “But please don't be angry with me — I wanted you to come so much! I've never had a friend before. Honestly, I only meant to keep you for a couple of weeks! I had no idea that Mother would hatch one of her evil plots.”

“Oh, well,” Jane said. She didn't want to quarrel with Staffa. She was glad that they were friends again. It made her feel much stronger. “Where are we, anyway?”

Staffa smiled. “Can't you guess from the smell? We're in the heart of the Slug District.”

Jane's heart gave a leap of hope. “Oh — is this Twilly's house?”

“Yes — her father's tannery is around the back, and this is her mother's workshop. She's a master sugarsmith, as you know.”

Jane's eyes became used to the shadowy darkness, and she saw that they were in a shop with long wooden counters, and racks of metal tools hung on the walls. There was a notice beside the empty window:
NO SUGAR IS KEPT IN THIS SHOP OVERNIGHT.
She remembered that sugar was like gold in the world of the box.

“It was Narcas who started the Norahs,” Staffa's pale eyes glinted with excitement. “And now there are thousands of us! All the students at the university have joined — and the Guild of Bee Workers, the Guild of Sugarsmiths, the Guild of Slug Tanners — even some of the servants at the castle!” Staffa was obviously very proud of being a Norah. “I joined the day we had tea with the old princess. Twilly came secretly to my room that night.”

“But … why didn't you wake me up?” Jane was slightly cross that she had been left out of this adventure.

“Sorry, it was just too dangerous.”

“And Twilly's been in the Norahs all along! How did she know you wouldn't give her away?”

“She took a very big risk. She said she just had an instinct that I was prime Norah material — wasn't that nice of her?” Jane had never seen Staffa so lively. “Twilly's really a remarkable person. You should have seen how quickly she told me about the gossip at the race course!”

“Eh? What gossip?”

“I can't explain here. Come into the kitchen.”

Staffa grabbed Jane's hand, and dragged her through a door. Jane found herself in a snug kitchen, filled with golden candlelight.

“Your Janeship!” Twilly, half laughing and half crying, flung herself at Jane and hugged her hard. “Did they hurt you? Oh, I'm so glad we got you in time!”

“Twilly!” It was so great to see her other friend that Jane almost felt happy. She sat down on a kitchen chair, and Twilly made three delicious cups of hot dandelion seed tea.

“We can't stay here very long,” Staffa said. “Twilly, are her clothes ready?”

Now that there was light, Jane saw that Staffa had taken off the stiff green dress she had worn at the Races and changed into a boy's jacket and pants. Twilly handed a similar outfit to Jane, and the three of them giggled when she put Jane's awful Bo Peep dress on the fire. The new clothes were soft and very comfortable.

“Right,” Staffa said, sitting down at the table. “I'll try to explain. Feel free to ask questions.”

Jane had so many questions that she hardly knew where to begin. “Why did the queen send Quarley to prison?”

Staffa's strange white skin seemed to harden. “Because he refused to marry the bride she chose for him.”

“She can't order him to fall in love,” Twilly said, shaking her curls. “Certainly not when he's so dreadfully sad about the old princess!”

“Quarley's always sad,” Jane said, thinking about the melancholy young king. “I know the old princess was your granny — but why is he taking it so badly?”

Staffa and Twilly gave each other odd looks.

Staffa said, “That's just it. The old princess wasn't our grandmother. She was Quarley's wife.”

THE CHOSEN BRIDE

“His
wife?
” Jane nearly fell off her chair. Staffa must have gone crazy. Did she really expect her to believe that the frail old lady had been the wife of the young king?

Staffa said, “I told you, we're not human. We mature more slowly than humans, and we live a lot longer. In your human years, Quarley is nearly a hundred and seventy.”

“You're crazy,” Jane said. She felt cold.

“I'm afraid not.”

“How … how old are you, then?”

Staffa said. “I was pretending to be a child of your age when I was in your world, because that's how I appear to humans. I'm actually sixty-five.” She smiled, rather sadly, at Jane's astonishment. “I wasn't very good at being a child, was I? But I hadn't visited your world since 1951, and I was woefully out of date. Hence the antiquated clothes.”

“Why did you come to Lower Lumpton?”

“Mother picked your area for the scenery, and the high number of gourmet food shops.”

“What were you doing at my school?”

“I wanted to find a friend,” Staffa said simply. “You and Twilly are so lucky — you come from lovely big families, and you're allowed to meet people. I never met anyone, because Mother wouldn't let me mix with the Eckers. You can't imagine the loneliness.”

“Never mind,” Twilly said consolingly. “You've got us now.”

“Yes, and it's the best thing that ever happened to me.” Staffa was fierce. “I'm never going back to that princess life! Never, ever! I don't care if I starve!”

“You can come back home with me,” Jane said hopefully. “The boys would love it.”

“Or you can stay here,” said Twilly. “Dad can always use an extra pair of hands in the tannery.”

“Thanks,” Staffa said, smiling. “But I'm forgetting about the story — please listen to it carefully, Jane. Then you'll understand that none of this is really my fault. You see, all I knew was that Mother was coming to your world on one of her shopping trips. She does this once a year, but she hasn't taken me with her since we visited the Festival of Britain in 1951.”

Jane asked, “Why not?”

“I spoke to another child,” Staffa said crisply, “and bought her a toffee apple. Mother had me whipped for disobedience.”

“She's such a cow!” Jane cried.

Twilly asked, “What's a cow?”

“Well, I suppose it's a bit like one of your slugs, only much more bony —”

“We're getting away from the story again,” Staffa said. “This summer, Mother suddenly announced that she was taking me back to your world — and this time, she actually wanted me to make a friend. I was astonished — but SO excited, because this was my dream come true!” She let out a long sigh. “And that's why I wasn't as suspicious as I should have been. I should have known she'd be up to something.”

“What?” Jane was trying hard to follow this.

“As I've told you, we're not human in my family. But we have to marry humans, or our race will die out. So when we want to get married, we come through the box into your world, to find a human mate. Quarley came through in what you would call the 1920s. He met Norah and fell in love.” Staffa looked hard at Jane. “She loved him so much that she agreed to follow him into the box and never see Pangbourne again. Norah chose to come here.”

She seemed to expect an answer. Jane said, “Oh.”

“She was a beautiful girl of twenty.” Staffa's eyes filled with tears. “And they were very happy for the first forty years or so — though they never managed to have any children, and Mother was fiendishly jealous. The people loved Norah, you see. And some of them began to ask why the king's wife was only a princess, when she should have been the queen. Well, I daresay you can imagine how furious that made Mother.” She added, “Are you following so far?”

“I think so,” Jane said. “But I don't see what it's got to do with me.”

“I'm coming to that. Poor Norah gradually got older and older, while Quarley stayed young. He had to watch the woman he loved turn into a withered old lady. Mother said she was an embarrassment, and she wanted Quarley to send her away to the hunting lodge and find another wife — but he wouldn't hear of it. He said his heart was broken, and that marrying humans was cruel, and he was never doing it again.”

“I bet the queen was angry,” Jane said.

“She certainly was.” Staffa frowned. “Our human connections are the key to our power over the Eckers. They're waiting for our royal line to end. If there's no new human bride lined up, the Eckers will refuse to be ruled by us.”

“Why can't he just marry an Ecker woman?”

Staffa said, “Because Mother would kill him.”

“Oh, but —”

“Jane, she really would kill him. Please believe me.” Staffa frowned again, and two tears crept down her cheeks. “He's in terrible danger. I'm scared I'll never see him again.”

Twilly gave her hand a friendly squeeze. “Cheer up — the Norahs will find a way to save him.”

Jane asked, “Won't the Norahs try to kill him too?”

“Oh, no,” Twilly said, “the king's been a member for ages. He wants us Eckers to have a proper parliament, and votes, and all sorts of posh things. He's just as sick of the queen as the rest of us.”

Staffa sniffed. “Anyway, there was the old princess getting older and older, and the Eckers were getting more and more restless, so Mother took matters into her own hands. As I've said, it's impossible to bring a human through the box unless they choose to come — of their own free will.”

“Like I did,” said Jane.

“Yes, Jane. Like you.”

They were all quiet for a few minutes. Jane shivered, sensing the approach of something fearful, like an iceberg in an icy sea.

“Every time Mother went into your world,” Staffa said, “she tried to find a bride for Quarley, and to bring her through the box. But of course, she could never get anyone to agree — people just thought she was insane. So she decided to use me as bait.”

“You? What d'you mean?”

“Oh, Jane! Don't you see? She told me I could find a friend and bring her home for a visit. Please don't be angry — I really, truly didn't know it was a trick!”

Jane's mouth was dry. “A trick?”

“Do you remember that night when her hat was on fire?”

“Yes.”

“She'd been back through the box to put down yet another revolution — and she announced that she was bringing back a new human to be the next royal bride.”

“But who?”

There was another silence.

In a small voice, Staffa said, “You.”

“ME?” choked Jane. “But how can it be me? I'm not old enough to get married!”

“You're the official princess-in-waiting,” Staffa said. “She's told everyone that you'll marry Quarley as soon as you're eighteen.”

“That's why everyone was staring at you when we went to the Races,” Twilly explained breathlessly. “I heard them talking about it. And I heard that you were being sent to the hunting lodge — in case you escaped, or got killed by the Sticks of Darkness. That's why we had to kidnap you in such a hurry.”

“The Sticks of Darkness are the anti-royalist group,” Staffa said. “They want to kill us all.” Her lips trembled. She gulped back a sob. “I know I've got you into a terrible mess, but please don't hate me!”

Jane was in a daze. The queen wanted to put her in prison for seven years and then force her to marry Quarley. There was nothing the matter with Quarley, but that was not the point. The queen meant to trap her in the box forever — until she withered and died like the old princess. If her evil plan succeeded, Jane would never see the Boy Garden again.

She stood up. This was so deeply scary that she was not scared. There was a still, hard anger inside her that made her feel very brave. “I don't want to get married. I want to go home.”

Staffa and Twilly looked at each other nervously.

Jane stamped her foot. “Get me home!”

Staffa said, “It's not as simple as that.”

“I don't care!” shouted Jane. “I want to go home!”

“Listen to me,” Staffa said. “I'll do everything I can to get you home. But until we destroy my mother's power, it's totally impossible.”

Jane tried to calm herself down by taking a few deep breaths. “All right,” she said. “Let me help you to destroy her. Let me join the Norahs.”

“But it could be so dangerous!”

“I don't care! What've I got to lose?”

Before Staffa could argue any more, there was a knock at the door, in rhythm —
rat-tat-TAT
.

Twilly called, “Brown bread!”

A voice outside gasped, “Snail butter!”

The door of the kitchen opened, and Narcas whisked into the room, followed by two middle-aged Eckers. They were all out of breath.

“It's all gone wrong!” panted Narcas. “Oh, what shall we do? Gad's been arrested — now there's nobody to rescue the king! We'll have to call off the revolution and make for the hills!” She collapsed into a chair and buried her face in her hands.