The Little Secret (16 page)

Twilly and Staffa stared at each other in dismay.

The older Eckers, however, were calm.

“No use panicking,” said the man. “We'll just have to think again.” He had bedspring curls of hair around a large bald patch.

“Well, so this is the human bride,” said the woman whose bright, round eyes were just like Twilly's. “Nice to meet you, dearie.” She smiled at Jane.

“This is our mam and dad,” Twilly told her. “They were supposed to be arranging your next hiding place —”

“We were going to smuggle you out in a bakery van,” Narcas said. “But there are double guards on all the city gates. They're looking for you all over the city. The queen's offered a pound of chocolate as a reward for capturing you!”

“And Gad was going to rescue the king,” Mam said, still calm. “And the whole revolution was all arranged, as neat as you like. But Gad can't do much in a castle dungeon.”

“Yes, it was a bit of a setback,” Dad agreed. “How can we get the king now? That's the big question.”

Narcas groaned. “It's impossible!”

“No, it isn't!” Staffa cried, very white and determined. “I refuse to give up now! I'm going to rescue my brother and send Jane home if it kills me!”

Dad shook his head. “It's too dangerous for a little thing like you. Why, you're not seventy!” (If she hadn't been so worried, this would have made Jane smile.)

“I don't care,” Staffa said. “I brought Jane here, and she's my responsibility.”

Twilly and her parents exchanged troubled looks.

Mam patted Jane's shoulder. “You mustn't worry if we can't break the spell, Miss Jane. You can stay here with me. I'll apprentice you, and you'll grow up to marry a nice young sugarsmith and have your own little shop on Fondant Lane!”

Jane swallowed hard. Mam meant to be comforting, but the idea of spending the rest of her life inside the box was heartbreaking. Meeting Twilly's parents made her think of her own, and she wanted them so much that she could have cried. But this was no time to cry.

“I'm not scared,” she said (trying not to sound it). “Let's make a plan!”

Narcas let out another groan. “But it's impossible — unless one of you can ride a bee.”

“Oh,” said Staffa, turning even paler. “Oh, I hate bees!”

“Gad's a beeman,” Dad explained to Jane. “He's engaged to our Pippock, and he flew down this morning under cover of going to the Races. He left his bee in our stable. You see, the mountain fortress is so heavily guarded that a thousand Norahs couldn't get near it — but a single bee might've had a chance.”

“I wonder —” Jane said. Everyone turned to her. Her face turned a little hot. “I wonder if it's anything like riding a horse?”

All the Eckers looked blank (horses were quite unknown in this world), so Jane spoke to Staffa. “It's just that I know how to ride a horse — Dad taught us all to ride Leonard. And I wondered if that would be any good with a bee. That's all.”

She had half expected them to laugh at her, but they were all very interested.

“It can't be too different,” Staffa said slowly. “I mean, bees have reins and saddles, like horses in your world.”

Jane's heart began to beat harder. They were taking her seriously, and she wished she hadn't said anything, but her veins fizzed with excitement — how amazing it would be, if she managed to rescue the king!

“Horses don't fly, of course,” Staffa went on.

“Oh, I'd forgotten about that,” Jane said. “I'm afraid I wouldn't have a clue how to get it off the ground.”

Everyone looked disappointed — except Twilly, who gave a little shriek. “Two with your toes!”

Mam shook her head. “What the goodness are you on about?”

Twilly was eager. “Don't you remember what Gad told us? The beemen have that rhyme:

Two with your toes

And UP she goes!

Two with your heels,

And DOWN she reels!”

Once again, everyone looked at Jane. There was no going back now. Two with your toes — well, it was worth a try. She did her best to look brave. “Is there … is there somewhere I could practice?”

FATILDA

“I can't let you do it!” Staffa pleaded. “You'll be shot down — or you'll fall off!”

“It's worth the risk,” Jane said.

Dad had led the two of them out into the stable yard at the back of the house. It was dark, but a big, bright moon shone down on the cobblestones, and bathed in silver light the tall bales of slugskin.

The first stall contained a large brown sofa. Dad flashed his lantern at it, and the sofa suddenly stood up on its casters. Jane let out a yelp of shock — it was not a sofa at all, but a huge brown beetle.

“Don't worry,” said Dad. “That's just one of my dray beetles that I keep for pulling the cart. They never hurt you unless they sit on you by mistake.” He swung his lantern at the next stall. “This is the young lady you've got to watch.”

In the soft shadows, the enormous bee looked like a furry helicopter without a propeller. She was covered in thick, shaggy stripes of black and yellow fur. Her six fat, furry legs stamped the floor crossly. Her antennae were curls of metal, like television aerials, and when she turned around, Jane and Staffa shuddered to see her stinger, gleaming poisonously on her fat bottom. Her wings folded and unfolded, and Jane was fascinated to see how neatly the great white fans slotted together.

“Her name's Fatilda,” Twilly's dad said in a low, nervous voice. “I think Gad named her after the queen. Look, are you sure about this, Miss Jane? She's ever so vicious! Only Gad can keep her calm.”

Jane swallowed, keeping her eyes on the bee. She was very scared, but determined not to show it. “What does Gad do?”

“He talks to her,” Dad said. “Soothing like — full of little pet names. He calls her ‘blossom' and ‘darling' and ‘sunbeam.' He's more romantic with that bee than he is with our Pippock!”

Fatilda let out a deep, angry, vibrating buzz so powerful that Jane could feel it in her feet. How was she supposed to call this creature “blossom”? Clenching her fists to stop herself from trembling, she took a step into Fatilda's stall.

“Hello, Fatilda,” she said. It came out as a squeak. Jane swallowed again, and did her best to sound soothing. “I know I'm not your Gad, but I'm on the same side — so I want you to be a very good girl and let me ride on your back.”

She stopped. The buzzing went on, but the mighty bee did not seem angry. Jane dared to walk right up to her and stroke her shaggy sides. It was like patting a great striped bison. She had a strange smell, partly animal and partly sugar, as if someone had made hot toffee in the camel house at the zoo.

“Woah, girl,” murmured Jane. Fatilda wore a saddle of purple slugskin, with oddly shaped silver stirrups. Very, very cautiously, Jane slipped the purple reins over Fatilda's head. “Come out now — er — blossom — easy, now!” She began to lead the bee out into the yard.

Dad and Staffa backed away fearfully. Staffa gasped, “Be careful!”

Jane took a deep breath. “Fatilda, darling, this is very important — you're our only hope!” Her mouth was dry. Could she ever ride this beast? Fatilda was three times the size of dear old Leonard, and at least three times angrier.

“Bees are ever so sensitive,” Dad said. “I could swear she knows that something's happened to Gad. She's worried about him.”

“Poor thing!” For the first time, Jane felt sorry for the giant bee. “Poor old Fatilda! We'll find your Gad!”

“Oh, stop patting her!” Staffa cried. “She'll kill you!”

“No, she won't — will you, darling?”

Staffa and Dad were still hanging back, but Jane suddenly knew that she could handle Fatilda.

“I'm going to try riding her,” she told Dad. “Help me into the saddle.”

“I don't know, Miss Jane — I've never been near a bee in my life! But if a little human can risk it —” With a shaking hand, he took Fatilda's reins and led her to some wooden steps on the other side of the yard.

“I can't look!” moaned Staffa. “You'll be killed!”

“If we scare her, she'll sting!” Dad said, his face pale and sweating with fear. “Then you'll drop dead — and so will she! And there'll be nobody to rescue the king!”

It was odd to remember that Fatilda was just like a tiny bee at home, and would die if she unleashed her deadly poison. But this was life or death, and Jane knew that she had to be brave — the whole country was depending on her. Very nervous, but also excited, she climbed the steps and put one leg over Fatilda's wide, hard back. She stuck her feet into the stirrups. Good grief, she was sitting on the back of a bee!

Staffa asked, “Are you all right? How does it feel?”

“Fine,” Jane said. “It's nice being so high up. Pass me the reins.”

Dad gave Jane the reins and immediately backed away.

“I'll just walk her for a bit,” Jane said. She tried to imagine that she was riding Leonard — and was thrilled to find that riding a bee really was quite a lot like riding a horse. Fatilda was testy, but she was perfectly trained and very obedient.

“I'm going to try flying her now,” Jane said. “Stand back!”

She whispered the rhyme to herself. “Two with your toes, and UP she goes!”

She gave two sharp jabs with her toes. Fatilda's buzz became harder and louder. Her wings suddenly shot open, like the tails of peacocks.

The yard fell away beneath them. Incredibly — amazingly — they were flying. Jane guided Fatilda around in a slow circle. This was easy, and it was amazing. It was more than that. It was, Jane decided, the
most
amazing thing that had ever happened to her. Oh, if only they could have huge bees at the Boy Garden. What wonderful battles they could have in the paddock!

“Two with your heels,” she muttered. “Come on, Miss Fatilda — let's see if I can land you.”

She jabbed the bee's tough sides twice with her heels, and they sank to the ground with majestic grace. Jane patted the back of Fatilda's furry head, and the buzz deepened to a sleepy drone.

Jane laughed. “I think she's purring! Oh, isn't she sweet?”

“Are you nuts?” Staffa was white as paper. “I can't ride that monster!”

“I'm sorry, Princess,” Dad said, “but you'll have to ride her — or how will Miss Jane find her way to the fortress?”

“Suppose Fatilda crashes? Suppose my mother's soldiers shoot her down?” Staffa was almost crying. “Oh, Jane, I'll never forgive myself if anything happens to you!”

Jane was about to say something brave when there was a sudden loud thumping on the door of the house.

A rough voice shouted, “Open up, in the name of the queen! We know you've got the human! Open up!” Dad, Jane and Staffa gaped at one another in horror.

Mam hurried out into the yard with a lantern. “You'll have to go now, my dearies — this very minute! It's our only chance!”

Another voice shouted from behind the gates of the yard, “Open up! We've got you surrounded!”

Dad picked Staffa up like a sack of potatoes and threw her onto Fatilda's back behind Jane. “Good luck, you two. Jane, get up in the air as fast as you can to avoid the bullets!”

“Good luck!” cried Mam. “Take care!”

The soldiers were starting to batter down the gates. In a few moments, they would be swarming all over the yard. It was now or never.

Staffa put her arms tightly (a bit too tightly) around Jane's waist, and hid her face in Jane's shoulder. Jane made the two digs with her toes, and Fatilda shot up into the air — until Mam and Dad and the soldiers and the yard were distant specks, and the whole city was spread out below them.

Jane saw orange flashes of fire, and crowds of people fighting in the narrow streets. She heard bullets singing in the warm night air (luckily not high enough to hit them).

“Staffa!” she called over her shoulder, “you've got to stop being scared. I need you to tell me where we're going!”

“I'm so sorry —” moaned Staffa. “I know I'm being foolish — but I can't bear to look down!”

“You've GOT to look down!” Jane shouted desperately. “You've GOT to stop being scared long enough to rescue Quarley!”

“Yes, you're right.”

Jane felt Staffa behind her, taking a deep breath and raising her head from Jane's shoulder. For a few seconds, she swayed alarmingly in the saddle.

She gasped, “Follow the canal — towards the lake.”

“Are you okay? You're not going to faint or something, are you?”

“No. I'm fine.” Staffa's voice was still shaky, but she sat more steadily, and relaxed her grip on Jane's waist.

Far below them, Jane saw the canal, stretching out in the moonlight like a silver ribbon. She steered Fatilda along its course, and in a few minutes they had left the war-torn city far behind.