The Spin (34 page)

‘Do you, do you really?' Stormy couldn't imagine anyone hating the Academy.

Ralf looked embarrassed. ‘Well, I used to. Not so much now. Not since you two came.' He grinned at Purbeck. ‘And if Hector's going to leave then Sparkit will have to go and . . .'

‘And I'm afraid Bluey won't be back,' Stormy told them. ‘Don't know about Polaris.'

‘Daygo's in his stable but he's been hurt,' Ralf said. ‘May never be the same again . . .'

‘So it will all change up here,' Purbeck said.

‘For the better,' Ralf said. ‘I've thrown away the last of the yellow powder, Stormy, I promise. We just need Al to come back and then it would be perfect.'

‘Let me help you with your spitfyre,' Purbeck said, falling in step beside Stormy as he led Seraphina to her cave. ‘Shame she has to go back to that gloomy – hold on! Why not put her here, in Sparkit's cave? He won't be using it again, will he?'

‘Perfect,' Stormy said, brightening up again. ‘Thanks, Purbeck. Let's get it all clean for her straight away.' They set about changing the straw and putting in fresh water. Seraphina waited patiently, watching them with interest.

Soon she was settled inside. Stormy did not chain her up. ‘No more of that,' he said. ‘Though I suppose she might go for Al if he were ever to come back . . .'

‘Al? Why?' Purbeck asked.

‘Because she hates him.'

And Seraphina neighed shortly and pawed the ground as if she understood.

‘Will she ever stop hating me?' a voice said behind them.

They spun round. It was Al. He gazed in at the spitfyre sadly. ‘Not that I blame her, but will she ever stop?'

‘Al! Where did you spring from?' Purbeck cried.

Ralf ran up to them. ‘Al! Great to see you, Al! You look much better!'

Al did look plumper, and his eyes had a sparkle in them that hadn't been there before. He gave Seraphina a wary, sidelong look. She was watching Al carefully, but she wasn't showing any signs of distress like she had before.

‘I was watching the flight from the valley,' Al said. ‘I saw what happened, how she did the Spin, and I knew I had to come back. Well done for making her better, Stormy, and for being the best sky-rider I've seen for a long, long time.'

‘Oh, thanks, Al.' Stormy's cheeks burned. ‘Thanks a lot. But it was just because Seraphina –'

‘Ahh, yes, yes,
Ser-a-phina
!' Al sank down to his knees. ‘Ser-a-phina! How could I forget such a name.' His eyes were full of tears. ‘She's a star, she's a beauty, my dear Seraphina. Dear, beautiful Seraphina.'

‘You really had forgotten her name?'

Al nodded. He stood up and went closer to the spitfyre. ‘Please accept my humble apologies for everything. Everything.'

Seraphina showered him with turquoise sparks and purple smoke.

‘Is that her saying she forgives?' Ralf asked.

Al nodded. ‘It's a start. It will take time, but I have that.'

Stormy said goodnight to Seraphina and they walked up to the servery together.

‘I've stopped drinking,' Al said, sitting down in his favourite old place at the table. ‘Otto stopped me. After Seraphina attacked me I made my way down the mountain and just as I feared, Otto was waiting for me. That ancient dog, Sponge, must be as old as the hills,' Al said, ‘but he recognised me and barked like crazy so I couldn't sneak past.'

‘What did Otto do?' Ralf asked.

‘He forgave me,' Al said meekly. ‘He's not the sort of man to seek vengeance in anything other than his imagination. He got me working in the kitchen. Got me washing and scrubbing and chopping. I felt like you, Stormy! Then I started eating. No alcohol, just fine food.'

‘Good old Otto!' Stormy said.

‘I'd seen Ralf with that little bottle of powder. Knew it wasn't right but didn't care enough to investigate, but after my brain cleared, after I'd been there a while, I asked Otto why he was sending up vitamins. Course he wasn't. Otto didn't know a thing about it. We went to Brittel's kitchen and had a look around. You should have seen what we found in his cupboards! Terrible stuff. Chucked it all away. We found a note from you too, Stormy.'

‘From me?'

‘Yes. Asking Otto if he knew the spitfyre's name, only Otto had never got it,' Al said. ‘Brittel had hidden it from him.'

‘I'd forgotten I'd even written it,' Stormy admitted.

‘Otto threw Brittel out,' Al said. ‘I didn't know such a bony bloke could bounce so high!' He laughed, then stopped abruptly. ‘Sorry. You got thrown out too, Stormy, didn't you? It wasn't – I shouldn't have done that.'

‘It's all right, Al.'

‘No, it was bad. It was mean. I felt so mean then, Stormy. I wanted to stop you from interfering . . . Know who you reminded me of?' He went on before Stormy could interupt. ‘Mayra. She was like you. Only saw the best in everyone, full of good thoughts. Sparky. Bright. Couldn't bear it. And there was pressure from Araminta too.'

‘I know,' said Stormy. ‘Forget it, Al. It's all worked out for the best.'

There was a knock on the door and Mungo put his cheerful face round, ‘Hello! Anyone home?' he called. Maud came in behind him shyly.

Stormy introduced the boys and Al to Mungo and was pleased to see them greet him warmly.

‘They've carted the Director off,' Mungo told them. ‘There'll be some sort of trial and then hopefully he'll be gone for good. Araminta went with him. Hector too, and his spitfyre. All gone. The place is wiped clean.'

So Araminta had gone too. Stormy sighed. He would have liked to have helped her if he could have. She wasn't really bad, he didn't think, just sad. How could he ever have trusted her, that's what he couldn't understand. He had a lot to learn about girls . . . about everything!

Al seemed to understand what he was thinking. ‘Girls are tricky, Stormy,' he said.

‘Some of them!' Maud said, smiling.

‘I'm glad they've gone,' Ralf said.

‘We can start again,' Stormy said. ‘If you'll be the new Director, Mungo?'

Mungo chuckled and shook his head. ‘What do I know about spitfyres? I'm a grubbin!'

‘You don't need to know very much,' Al said. ‘You just need to be a good person who can run things smoothly. You're next of kin; I think the Academy probably belongs to you now. And Maud.'

‘I'd need help,' Mungo said, looking around hopefully at their smiling faces.

‘You've got us!' Purbeck and Ralf both said.

‘I'd need a good spitfyre keeper,' Mungo said, staring at Al.

‘I can't come back,' Al said gloomily. He began to rip a crust of bread into bits. ‘I can't. No. I'm no good. I've let everyone down.'

Maud gently took the bread from his hands and set it aside. ‘Don't,' she whispered. ‘You
are
good.'

‘Please,' Stormy said. ‘It's where you belong, and the Academy can't exist without you, Al.'

Al stood up and took the crumbs to the doorway and tossed them up into the air.

‘Why do you do that?' Maud asked. ‘I've seen you do it hundreds of times.'

‘Mayra,' Al said, and blew his nose loudly on a hankie. ‘It's for Mayra. She never wanted anyone to go hungry. Give it to the birds, she used to say. She loved birds. Always had a little something for them.'

‘Otto does it too,' Stormy said.

‘We both loved her,' Al said. He limped back to the table. ‘I'll think about coming back,' he said. ‘I will.'

‘I'll take that as a yes, then,' Mungo said, nodding enthusiastically. ‘Good. I want you, Al. I want the Great Renaldo at my new Academy.'

‘I never said –'

‘Nonsense, you know you belong with those flying horses, and between the five of you – you, Ralf, Purbeck, Stormy and of course Maud – you'll make it the best Academy in the whole world!'

‘Good, that's agreed.' Stormy thumped Al on his back. ‘We'll get new rules and keep the dungeons empty,' he said. ‘Mr Jacobs and Mr Bones and Mrs Lister say they'll stay on. We'll find more good teachers. This place will be wonderful. I know it will.'

Mungo and Al shook hands.

‘It's a deal.'

Afterwards, when everyone had gone about their business, Stormy and Maud went down to say a last goodnight to Seraphina.

‘Why did you give me those white ribbons?' Stormy asked Maud.

Maud looked away across the valley. ‘I didn't have anything else to give,' she said simply. ‘I wanted you to know that someone was thinking about you, wherever you went and whatever you did. I wanted you not to feel alone. I know what it's like to feel alone. I didn't know how to say it in any other way.'

‘I wondered a bit . . .' Stormy began, then stopped, not wanting to admit he'd thought they were from Araminta.

Maud wrapped her arms around Seraphina's neck and laid her head against the spitfyre's warm coat.

‘Oh.' She looked round at Stormy, an idea striking her. ‘You never thought that
she'd
given them to you, did you?'

Stormy grinned. ‘Of course not,' he said. He took the three lengths of white ribbon from his pocket and together they weaved them into Seraphina's glorious mane.

‘Perfect,' Stormy said.

Maud smiled. ‘Perfect.'

Rebecca Lisle was born in Leeds to two artists. Having studied Botany at Newcastle University she then completed a PGCE at Oxford. Rebecca lived in France, Manhattan, and England before becoming a ‘proper' writer. She was awarded a distinction for her MA in Creative Writing at Bath Spa in 2006.

The Spin
is her twenty-fourth book. Inspired by Dickens'
Great Expectations
, she's hoping it's her best book to date. Rebecca is a keen rider and had her own horse, Sylvia, when she lived in Australia. When she imagined the hero of
The Spin
, Stormy, flying on his winged horse, she was remembering the fantastic experience of riding over the wide expanses of New South Wales, which wasn't that far from flying and was certainly a highlight in her life.

Rebecca is married with three almost grown-up sons, who are the inspiration for many stories, along with her black and white dog Nike. When she is not writing Rebecca paints peculiar pictures of dogs. Find out more about Rebecca at
www.rebeccalisle.co.uk

First published in Great Britain in 2013 by Hot Key Books, Northburgh House, 10 Northburgh Street, London EC1V 0AT

Hot Key Books is a division of Bonnier Publishing

Copyright © Rebecca Lisle 2013

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ebook ISBN: 978-1-4714-0024-7

1

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