Contents of article "’Beyond the Hedge’ - Chapter 15 Part 2"
’Beyond the Hedge’
Pongo had his nose pressed up against the grill. “What a lucky break! You were right, Pigsblanket. This must be the access for the maintenance team.”
The grating connected the culvert to a small sea cave. There was debris caught in the crossbars indicating the cave was subject to the tides.
Pigsblanket gave the gull a detailed description of the port and its surroundings. “It’s getting dark out there but ‘The Cheeky Monkey’ should be hard to miss, she’s very colourful.”
“Let me go with Peg,” said Lorimer urgently. “Four eyes are better than two.”
“So you’re not scared anymore, Thermidor?”
“No way. I’ve put all that behind me. I’m as brave as the next lobster now.”
“And how brave is that?”
“I can’t really say. We’re pretty solitary as a rule. To be honest, I’m itching to get back in the sea.”
Pigsblanket unscrewed the grill and set it to one side. “Right then, who’s first?”
The water glittered invitingly. Lorimer donned his goggles and scrambled down Sandy’s arm. He landed with a joyful splash, the sequins glinting on his bathing suit as he rolled over and dived under the navy blue waves.
Peg flew after his pal and the others settled down to wait for their return.
Lorimer swam off, delighted to be back in a watery world, even one as unfamiliar as this.
Clusters of glowing barnacles in a rainbow of colours clung to the rocks and shoals of tiny silver rays swam along beside him. A school of phosphorescent seahorses wove in and out of the rays, their curiosity aroused by a lobster unlike any other in the Whiteraven Sea.
Lorimer bobbed out of the water by the cave mouth to get his bearings.
“Love the goggles,” said a female voice behind him. “You’re not from around these parts, are you?”
“Er… no, I’m not,” said the bemused lobster, trying to ascertain where the words were coming from. He was scanning the rocks to his right when he saw her. “Well now, aren’t you the daintiest mermaid I’ve ever seen?”
“So I should hope. I’m the rarest of the rare, you know. You’re lucky I’m still here.”
“I am?”
“Yes, you are,” said the mermaid emphatically. Her pale blonde hair was threaded with pink sapphires and fire opals. “I was on the point of leaving. I’ve been mixing recreation with a spot of work but my holiday’s been blighted by recent events. I’m gathering material for my next lecture tour. The caves around Corvine are inhabited by a rare species of Papery Hawkmoth. They’re white with black dots all over their wings and come in two varieties, the Tabloid and the Broadsheet. We’re hoping to introduce them to a similar habitat back home. They’re very beneficial to the marine environment.”
“Where’s home?” Lorimer asked eagerly.
“Can’t you guess?” teased the mermaid. “If I were to say the clue is in the cozzie, would that help?”
Lorimer glanced at the flag on his bathing suit. “You don’t mean to say you’re from Scotland?”
“Where else?”
The gull circled the lobster’s head impatiently. “Thermidor, for pity’s sake, what are you playing at? I’ve been waiting outside for you.”
“If it isn’t Peg Leg,” said the mermaid calmly.
“Samphire, long time no see.”
Lorimer felt deflated. “You two know each other?”
“Mmm. But we’ll have to catch up some other time. You and I have work to do.”
The mermaid’s interest had been aroused and she decided to stick around for a while to find out what they were up to.
“ I don’t know what came over me, Crawford, but thank you for bringing me to my senses in such an ingenious way.”
“You fell victim to a spell of negativity which interfered with your natural optimism, and strong it was too, ma’am. The Harpie dined off your despair and grew stronger. Those scrogwits wouldn’t have dared take you on had you been your usual self.”
“We must protect ourselves and do what we can to sustain the Queen. Knowledge is power, Crawf. A united front of positivity.”
“Quite, ma’am.” Crawford sighed happily. Indigoletta wasn’t just back, she was dynamite in feathers. “As you said, in fine window-rattling form, ‘Maligna will never prevail’.”
“And I meant it, in spite of that unfortunate lapse.”
Celestina had managed to drive the Harpie away from the Palace but Maligna sensed she was tiring, the shape-shifting had drained her energy. She stepped up the attack on her adversary and flew at the Queen with the force of a battering ram. The hatred poured out of her in dark waves which Celestina repelled with her strongest white magic. The Queen channelled additional power from the Giant Sapphire and the Prince of Cobalt-Sibilance sent his most potent formula against evil through the night sky in a string of blue stars that wrapped themselves round her in a protective cloak.
Maligna screamed in frustration when she found she was unable to break through the starry shield which burned her skin horribly on contact. The Harpie flung herself into the Whiteraven Sea and sank beneath the waves.
Will’s cousin Malcolm was still on duty when the wolf arrived at the Great Daria Gate. Grimpen was admitted immediately and the imp left a junior officer in charge so that he could escort the wolf himself.
“I’ll take you straight to the Attendant to the Royal Raven. He’s helping Pogo Pixie move from the guest accommodation into the main part of the palace. With the Irvine mob gone, she was rattling around there on her own.”
“I need to see Will by myself first. Can you arrange that?”
“It won’t be a problem.”
Malcolm could tell from the wolf’s eyes it was a matter of grave concern and, being a professional soldier, didn’t ask questions. Instead, he broke into a trot which Grimpen matched.
An inner courtyard connected the guest wing to the ground floor of the palace. Malcolm called out a long list of letters and numbers which constituted the current password. A sentry leapt out from behind the shrubbery and gave a jaunty salute.
“I’m looking for the Attendant to the Royal Raven, is he around?”
“Your cousin’s indoors, Malky. Shall I fetch him?”
“I wouldn’t bother him but it is very important.”
“Right you are.”
Malcolm grinned. “There’s just one thing, could you be a bit more formal? Less of the ‘Wee Malky’s here’ sort of thing.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Don’t mention it. My promotion was only made official two days ago.”
Will shook his head in disbelief when he heard about Alfie. “Several members of the Clandestine Council are with Prince Hamish in the solarium. I was on my way there when Malcolm intercepted me, so I’ll take you up myself. Pogo’s gone to visit Cassandra in the infirmary, caring soul that she is. Twitchett has assigned two of his most experienced soldiers to her protection and the hare is being cared for by a skeleton staff of medics.” He smiled inwardly at his unfortunate choice of word.
They made their way along endless corridors, through elaborately furnished rooms, across ornate covered bridges linking one elegant wing of the palace to another. The wolf kept pace with the imp as he dived round corners and ran up tortuous flights of stairs.
“This is the most direct route, believe it or not. Her Majesty’s been toying with the idea of installing the odd lift or two, for those of us who have to rely on our legs rather than fairy wands or wings. It won’t happen, she’s a traditionalist at heart and I’m with her on that. I can’t get used to the palace being so deserted, it’s usually like a going fair. Having said that, the security bunkers are crammed to capacity. Have you ever been down there? The facilities are brilliant, almost as good as the palace proper, but a lot more snug.”
Grimpen said very little but he found Will’s friendly commentary comforting. He hated being the bearer of bad news but the imp’s irrepressible attitude lifted his spirits. There was something very special about Will and he understood why Indigoletta had singled him out.
The imp clattered up the narrow spiral staircase connecting the solarium to the rest of the palace and waited at the top for the wolf who’d never negotiated one before. Grimpen picked his way carefully to start with but his confidence increased as he climbed.
The Royal Raven’s eyes burned with anger. “This terrible news about Alfie only strengthens my resolve to destroy the blight on our land. We must keep this from Pogo for now. The poor soul is worried enough as it is. Realistically, what chance does Alfie have, Grimpen?”
“I enlisted help from an unlikely source, ma’am, and I firmly believe he’s in good hands. Marta the Banshee was a great healer in her day.”
“Bless me, that’s truly inspirational and she might just pull it off. To cure that miserable, mooching creature of her melancholia would be one in the eye for Maligna and a massive smack in the chops should she save Alfie’s life as well.” Indigoletta spun the emerald pendant once round her neck, indicating how pleased she felt. “We’ve made a useful discovery, Will, for which I can take no credit. It was entirely due to Crawford’s nimble intelligence.” She paused to acknowledge the crow who was so thrilled he bobbed a curtsey instead of his usual bow. “What it boils down to is believing we are invincible no matter what is thrown at us, even something as horrific as this.”
"It’s better than I thought,” said Pigsblanket, smoothing the seagull’s feathers. “We’re actually in the harbour. The rowing boat you found in the next cave must belong to the maintenance team. I don’t think they’ll mind if we borrow it, do you?”
“The brigantine’s going nowhere in a hurry,” said Peg. “It’s chaotic out there.”
“You recognised her, then?”
“Without a doubt.” Lorimer was breathless with admiration. “The fabulous paintwork with matching sails make their own statement. She’s definitely my kind of ship.”
“I’ll swim round to the boat and come back for you all.” Pigsblanket took off his boots and dived into the sea, still cushioned by his struntie wool bandage. He swam out into Corvine harbour, keeping to the calmer water at the foot of the palace promontory.
The lad swung himself into the rowing boat and took up the oars. He pulled away from the mooring in the cave and rowed back to pick up his friends. “Righty-oh, in you get. It’s blowing a gale in the harbour so sit low in the boat and don’t move around unless you want us to capsize. We mustn’t attract attention so we’re lucky there’s a lot going on. Keep your head down, Sandy. With that ponytail, there’s a good chance you’ll be mistaken for a lad.”
“You really know how to make a girl feel good,” said Pongo drily.
“I didn’t mean to imply…”
“Of course not, but I grew my hair to stop being mistaken for a boy.”
“Different fashions in different worlds,” said Jamie, teetering his way onto the boat.
Pigsblanket whirled the huge cloak round his shoulders. “The rest of you can hide in here with me. You’d better stay out of sight too, Chita.” The parrot took up her usual place on his shoulder and he pulled the hood forward to cover their heads. “I can’t have Grimshaw clocking me either, that would wreck our chances well and truly.”
Pongo curled up in the bottom of the boat, with Jamie and Lorimer tucked in beside him. The cloak covered them easily with enough left over for Sandy’s lap to hide Vince and Florin. “Folks in Sylvania don’t go in for kilts and sporrans as a rule, so we’ll keep you out of sight for now.”
The ever-inventive stars clustered together as a small light at the front of the rowing boat and Peg stationed himself behind them, leg firmly planted beneath his centre of gravity. “I’ll act as the eyes in the back of your hood, Pigsblanket. We don’t want you colliding with something because you can’t see where you’re going.”
Sandy crossed her fingers and touched the locket with MacGregor’s fur in it for luck.
Corvine harbour was bigger than she’d expected and there were a good few ships at anchor. Schooners sat alongside tea clippers, and fishing boats lined the docks, unable to put to sea in the current conditions. The marina was dotted with sailing boats and cabin cruisers straining on their moorings in the high winds.
Pongo was desperate for information. “What’s going on up there? Give us some idea or my curiosity might just get the better of me.”
“I thought cats were supposed to be curious, not dogs,” said the lobster from somewhere within the folds of the cloak.
“What makes you think I’m not? I can’t wait to get an eyeful of the legendary brigantine.”
Sandy whooped when she saw ‘The Cheeky Monkey’. “She’s absolutely beautiful, even in this light.”
Pongo was keen to demonstrate his knowledge of nautical terms. “Is she to port or to starboard?”
“What difference does it make when you can’t see her anyway?”
“Fair point, Jamie.” The dog fell silent which is not something that happens very often.
Pigsblanket’s hood fell back as he fought for control of the rowing boat when it was swept in front of a trawler. Conchita joined the others under the cloak.
“I’ll try to keep my distance until I’ve some idea what’s going on. Take the telescope, Sandy. Pestilence Grimshaw’s unmistakeable. He has similar taste to Lorimer when it comes to clothes.”
“You mean tastefully loud and garish.” She held the telescope to her right eye. “There’s men all over the rigging. I think they’re trying to take in the sails. There’s a tall figure in sombre clothes and a tricorn hat waving a lantern around.”
“That’ll be the First Mate. Mr Malahyde was the only friend I had on ‘The Cheeky Monkey’. I think it’s time to send in our scout. How about it, Peg Leg?”
“Sure thing. I can have a good poke around without anyone being suspicious. I expect one-legged gulls are not that rare here.”
“Actually, they are. Sylvanian seagulls just grow a replacement.”
“How very convenient. If anyone asks I’ll say I’m between legs.”
The lower section of cloak tittered. “Nice one, Peg.”
“I aim to please, Pongo.”
“Drink up,” said the voice at the end of the tunnel. “I’m sorry it tastes disgusting but one more swig should empty the cup. This carefully blended beverage saved your life. You very nearly had your chips.”
Wee Alfie Elf was lying under a blanket on a small cot; he was still very weak and woozy. His eyes swam into focus and he let out a yelp of surprise. “Pogo, what have they done to you? You look like death. That health spa’s well and truly gone to the dogs. Talking of which, Pongo could have chewed your hair into a more becoming style. I hope you refused to pay. It’s nothing short of criminal.”
Alfie was suffering side effects from the antidote to the poison and was likely to carry on talking rubbish for some time to come. He was remarkably chipper for someone who should have been dead and Marta decided this drivel was a small price to pay. It almost brought a smile to her solemn face.
“That’s some makeup they’ve slapped on your dial. I’ve rendered the walls at home with better quality plaster. And you’ve no lips, just a thin, squiggly line where your mouth should be. Come closer so that I can see the extent of the damage.” The Banshee leant over Alfie to adjust his pillow and pressed a cool compress of leaves against his hot forehead. “Oh my, Pogo, it’s worse than I thought. Your eyes are like two…”
“That’s gratitude for you.” Jock jumped up from the end of Alfie’s bed, yawned and stretched his wings. “I apologise on his behalf, Marta. He’s a discourteous wretch.”
The elf’s inane chatter subsided and he drifted back into a land of strange dreams.
“You look much better, crow.”
“The name’s Jock,” he said, dispensing with his usual long-winded introduction. “And I have to tell you I feel like my old self. Raring to go.”
“That’ll be the passionflower and scrogwit cordial. It’s good for the nerves and promotes restful sleep.”
The crow’s voice went up an octave. “Passionflower and what?”
“There’s not much scrogwit in the cordial, if that’s what’s worrying you. The potion I gave Alfie was very concentrated, one tenth scrogwit to nine tenths flower essence of my own decoction.”
Jock fell back on the blanket theatrically. “No wonder it tasted so foul. I can hardly bring myself to ask how you came by the aforementioned scrogwit.”
“A couple of Grimpen’s wolves brought me an arm. I didn’t feel it was my place to enquire how they came by it.”
“Very wise, some questions are best left unasked.”
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