The Secret Kingdom (2 page)

It was the king who took the proffered silk from the jinni’s slim hand, and as he did so, he was suddenly aware that the jinni was offering the last fragment of his own protection. The king looked at the queen and saw that she, too, was aware of the jinni’s sacrifice. And yet, thinking of their daughter, neither of them could resist the gift. They accepted it without a word.

‘There is one more thing,’ said the jinni and, like a conjurer, he pulled a bottle from his clothing. The glass was shaped like a bird, the liquid inside it as clear as water. The jinni told the king and queen that it was Alixir, the water of life. One drop, taken at every new moon, would halt the aging process.

No sooner had the queen taken the bottle than the jinni was gone, slipping out into the sky like a windblown leaf.

That night, while Zobayda was sleeping, the queen wrapped the piece of silk around her daughter’s middle finger. Almost immediately it solidified into a beautiful silver ring. It was shaped like a wing and engraved with pearly veins. A little head could be seen, peeping out of the top, and a tiny foot protruded from the other end. It was the forest-jinni, made miniature and frozen into silver.

Before she went to bed, the queen put the moon spider’s web into a deep chest. Beside it she placed the bottle of Alixir.

Three weeks later the royal baby was born. He had large, thoughtful eyes and a fine sturdy frame. He did not make a sound when the queen wrapped him in the web. After five days he pushed his little hands free of the silk and gave his mother a wide smile.

‘A smile!’ The queen lifted her baby out of his wrapping and dressed him in the scarlet robes that had been worn by generations of royal babies.

They named the baby boy Timoken, after the first ruler of the kingdom. As he grew, his parents watched him for signs of the magical gifts he was supposed to display. But Timoken seemed to be just like any other boy. Perhaps he was unusual in that he could watch falling rain for many hours, that he was entranced by dew-filled leaves, that he touched even tiny creatures with reverence and that he listened to birdsong with a rapturous expression. When Timoken turned nine his father gave him a pearl-handled knife. It was meant as a protection against snakes and scorpions, but Timoken often used it to carve pictures on the rocks. He could be mischievous, and he made friends easily. More than anyone else, it was his sister, Zobayda, whose company he most enjoyed. It pleased the king and queen to see their children so devoted to each other. ‘They will never be alone,’ the queen sighed happily.

Zobayda’s silver ring never became too small for her. As she grew, it always fitted her finger perfectly. The queen told her that a magic being had given it to her, and that it would keep Zobayda safe forever. But the forest-jinni had never made that promise.

Meanwhile, the jinni had returned to the forest. He had nowhere else to go.

It was not long before the viridees found him. He was sitting by a pool and singing to himself. He had been expecting them.

Slowly they began to surround him. But where was the moon spider’s web? Before, they had watched from the shadows as the forest-jinni washed the web with the tears of rare creatures. They had observed the dipping of the web into dew caught in precious flowers, and they had glimpsed the bottle shaped like a bird. The jinni had filled the bottle from a pool of moonlit water, and the viridees had listened as the jinni cast a spell. But he had spoken too fast for them to understand or remember what he said.

The viridees guessed that the web was more amazing, more precious and more powerful than anything they possessed. Of course, they wanted it. Their lord demanded it.

‘Where is the web of the last moon spider?’ The gurgling tone of a viridee stopped the jinni’s song.

‘You killed the last moon spider,’ said the jinni.

‘What have you done with the web?’

The jinni shook his head. ‘You will never find it.’

The viridees threw a net of creepers over the little creature. He did not resist. They took him to Degal, lord of the viridees, in his gloomy palace under the forest floor. The great hall was lit by the phosphorescent gleam of a thousand stalactites, and Degal sat on a throne carved from black marble and set with emeralds.

‘Where is it?’ Lord Degal’s voice burbled like the water in a deep cavern. ‘Where is the web of the last moon spider?’

The forest-jinni wriggled free of the net of creepers. He spread his wings as though he were about to fly, and he said, ‘In a place that you will never find.’

Lord Degal’s red eyes flashed. Pointing his root-like finger at the forest-jinni, he cried, ‘You will show us where it is, or suffer unbearable tortures.’

The forest-jinni hardly flinched. In his sweet, clear voice he declared, ‘I am one with the web of the last moon spider. I am one with the ring made of spider silk. I am one with the boy who will live forever.’ Then he flapped his delicate wings and vanished.

When Timoken was eleven years old, the unthinkable happened. The secret kingdom was invaded. Ever since
the forest-jinni had disappeared in their midst, the viridees had been searching for the moon spider’s web and the bird-shaped bottle. Lord Degal formed an alliance with a bloodthirsty human tribe from the East. In return for their help in finding the web, he promised them untold wealth and any kingdom that, together, they might defeat. And so began years of terror as small kingdoms were invaded and crushed by the murderous tribe and the powerful sorcery of the viridees.

Like a tide of darkness, Lord Degal’s army emerged from the forest beyond the secret kingdom. The viridees and the tribal soldiers were dressed alike in black turbans and black tunics. They carried long, shining sabres, and their drums and horns drowned out every sound except for the trumpeting of their massive elephants. The people who lived on the outskirts of the kingdom were the first to fall beneath the long sabres. Those who survived fled, screaming, towards the palace. Behind them their houses burned and their families died.

Timoken and Zobayda heard the thunder of the advancing army. They ran up to the palace roof and saw the fires and the dark forms rushing towards them from every side.

The massive palace doors were closed and barred. Soon, a roaring crowd surrounded the building. Inside all was silent. The king was pondering. For the first time in his life he did not know what to do. But there was only one way out of this dire situation. He would have to offer his palace and his kingdom to the invaders. In return, they must allow his people to live in peace or leave the kingdom in safety.

The children watched their noble father ride out to talk to Lord Degal. The king wore a white robe and carried a banner of peace. Degal, in deepest green, looked like the king’s shadow. A large green emerald glittered in Degal’s turban, and his green sash lifted in the breeze as the two horses met.

A streak of light flashed in the air above the king’s head. A second later he had toppled from his horse, his head severed by Degal’s shining sabre.

A deep wail from below told the children what their eyes could not believe. Their father was dead. They ran, screaming, to their mother.

When the people saw their fallen king they rushed at the enemy, waving their spears. But they were hunters, not soldiers; they were no match for Degal’s brutal army.

One of the king’s guards found the golden crown, lying in the dust. As he picked it up, a soldier ran at him, waving a sabre. But before he was cut down, the guard threw the crown to a friend. A soldier leapt on the man, only to see the crown, once again, tossed through the air. And so it continued, the circle of gold flying above the roaring mass of bodies, caught and passed on, until it reached one of the queen’s attendants, who took it to the queen.

Her eyes clouding with tears, the queen wiped the blood and the dust from the crown and put it on her son’s black curls. But the king’s head had been wide and splendid, and the crown was too big for Timoken. It began to slip down over his face. Seeing the problem, Zobayda stepped forward and lifted the crown above Timoken’s ears. Then she closed her eyes and uttered mysterious words in her light, breathy voice. It was almost as if she were asking a question, unsure of herself and what to expect. Under her slim fingers, the crown began to fit itself to Timoken’s head, and gradually he felt himself almost to be a king. Looking at his sister’s closed eyes he whispered, ‘You are a faerie.’

‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘I believe I am.’

The queen quickly gathered together a few of her children’s clothes. She put them in a large goatskin bag, and then she took the moon spider’s web and the Alixir from the chest and handed them to her son.

‘Take great care of these,’ said the queen. ‘The bottle contains Alixir. You must both take one drop every new moon, and you will stay as you are.’

Did this mean that he would not grow? Timoken was reluctant to remain a child. He wanted to be a man as soon as he could. ‘I don’t need the Alixir,’ he said, frowning at the bird-shaped bottle. ‘I wish to grow older.’

‘Not yet,’ advised his mother. ‘You might be an old man before you find your new kingdom.’

‘Will I find a new kingdom?’ asked Timoken.

‘I am certain that one day you will find a home,’ said the queen.

‘And what is this?’ asked Zobayda, touching the web. ‘It looks like a cobweb, but it’s so beautiful. Is it magic?’

‘Yes,’ said the queen. ‘There’s so little time to explain, my children, but it was made by the last moon spider. Keep it with you, always.’ She thrust it into the bag with the Alixir. ‘Now hurry, hurry!’

Timoken slung the bag over his shoulder. He looked
bewildered. ‘What now?’ he asked.

‘Now?’ said the queen. ‘Now you must go.’ She hugged her children, kissed them goodbye and told them to leave the palace. The warlord and his soldiers were already storming through the building.

‘How can we escape?’ cried Zobayda. ‘We are surrounded.’

‘Come with me.’ The queen led her children back up to the roof. The sun blazed above their heads. Below them the warlord’s army stood in its own shadow.

‘What now?’ said Zobayda. ‘If we jump, we shall die.’

‘You will die if you stay, so you must fly.’ The queen’s voice sounded almost triumphant.

Timoken sensed that his mother had been waiting a long time for this moment. ‘We can’t fly,’ he said, bemused and afraid.

‘I believe that you can,’ the queen told him, smiling. ‘Zobayda, put your arms around your brother and hold tight. Do not let go until you are safe.’

‘When shall we be safe?’ begged Timoken. ‘Mother, what are you saying?’

‘Do as I tell you,’ his mother commanded. ‘Look at the sun. Fly to it.’

‘I cannot,’ argued Timoken. ‘It hurts my eyes.’

‘Close them. Fly upwards. Feel your way through the sky. You can do it, Timoken. Now!’ The queen’s voice began to crack with fear.

Timoken could hear soldiers running up the steps to the roof. Their weapons scraped against the walls and their rough voices echoed up the narrow stairwell. Timoken’s heartbeat quickened. He could hardly breathe. Zobayda put her arms around his waist and held him tight.

‘Now!’ screamed the queen.

Timoken closed his eyes and turned his face up to the sun. Bending his knees a little, he took a leap, just like he did when he was jumping from one of the fallen trees in the forest. Only this time he made himself believe that his feet would not touch the ground for a while. He found himself lifting into the air. The sun burned his face and he clung to his sister. They rose higher and higher.

‘Timoken.’ He heard his mother’s voice following him. ‘Timoken, keep your secret. Never tell … never let anyone know what you can do.’

Timoken opened his eyes and looked down at the
palace. His mother had disappeared in a sea of black. Soldiers covered the roof of the palace, their weapons glinting in the fierce sunlight.

‘Zobayda, I can’t see our mother!’ cried Timoken.

Zobayda wouldn’t look back. Tears streamed from her eyes and she buried her face in her brother’s shoulder. ‘Mother,’ she murmured.

Timoken understood that they were now alone. Their lives had changed forever. But he could fly, and his sister had magic in her fingers. They would survive. He found that he could move through the air with no more than a thought in his head – a wishing.

The forest-jinni had not told the queen the whole truth. He was afraid that she would return the moon spider’s web if she knew what might happen. He did not warn her that when a newborn baby was wrapped in the web it would always have one foot in the world of men and the other in a realm of enchantments – a realm of good spirits and others that were not so kind. Worst of all were the viridees.

As soon as Timoken left the kingdom the viridees sensed that the web had left with him. They could smell it.

Unaware of the viridees and their malicious intent, Timoken and his sister floated through the vast sky, astonished to be so high above the earth, though their minds were clouded with the memory of their lost
parents. Brother and sister could not bring themselves to speak. They drifted in silence, hour after hour, with no thought as to where they should go, or when they should touch the earth again. Their father had told them that every day the sun moved through the sky in an arc, from east to west. Beyond the African forest – north, east and west – there was a vast desert where nothing could live. And in the south, where the sun reached its zenith, there was a world of water. Here things could live: birds, fish and strange creatures as large as a palace.

Timoken saw that the sun was now low in the west, and so he wished himself south where, already, the night clouds were rolling in. Zobayda was so weary her arms were beginning to loosen around Timoken’s waist. He had to clutch her tight, but his eyelids were drooping and he longed to close them.

Down
, Timoken thought.
I must go down.
Immediately he found himself falling through the air. He could hear waves breaking below him; he could sense the swirl of a great body of water and feel something utterly unfamiliar: a cold dampness rising up to claim him. Zobayda’s feet touched the water first, and she woke up.