Contents of article "’Beyond the Hedge’ Chapter 3 Part 1"
’Beyond the Hedge’
On the way home to ‘Corbie Cottage’, Alfie dropped Sammy off at the Cave of Sublime Spirit and the snake invited them all in.
Sandy and Jamie were introduced to the Giant Sapphire. The gemstone hummed and sparkled in response, turning a deep, glittering cobalt blue. They watched enthralled as the sapphire engaged its potent magic, creating an uplifting, regenerative spell to help Sandy and Jamie stay positive and centred during their quest for Leo.
The gem threw out beams of intense purple light that whizzed and zipped around the cave. Pongo dashed after the fleeting rays, but they dissolved before he could catch them. He’s a smart dog and knows from experience it’s a pointless game, but it still amuses him. Catching stars from Queen Celestina’s wand is a far more rewarding exercise.
Sammy introduced Sandy to Spondoolicks who ran round in circles on the palm of her hand. “Capital,” said the serpent, “he really likes you. He doesn’t do that for just anyone.”
“Too right, pal. Have ye got a moment, Sandy?” The spider nipped behind a vast pile of rubies that were waiting to be catalogued.
“Dear friends, I do believe you’re in for a treat.”
Alfie grinned at his wife. “You’re not wrong, SSS.”
Spondoolicks swung out on a thread from behind the heap of gems and made a perfectly controlled descent onto Alfie’s outstretched hand where he burst into a quirky rendition of the Sylvanian national anthem on his jauntily striped woollen bagpipes.
The serpent leant towards Sandy. “He knitted them himself. A fascinating sound, don’t you think?”
Everyone found the spider’s antics hilarious, except for Jamie. Cats don’t go in for that sort of thing, it’s far too vulgar. When it comes down to it, they rarely see the funny side of things. All that fuss over a multiply dexterous, bagpipe-playing spider.
They were on the point of leaving when Sandy turned to the snake. Her face was pale and she looked small and tired. “What’s happened to Jock? Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him for hours.”
Sammy flowed gracefully towards the child, his impressive crown sparkling in the half-light of the cave. He was wearing his serene, reassuring face. “Jock left the reception early for a chat with me, then he had some unfinished business to attend to in Irvine. He was set on telling your Dad you’d all arrived safely, something Ralph no doubt already knows if he’s been following your progress through the Cauldron. However, Jock does prefer the personal touch.”
Sandy wasn’t ready to be pacified. “I didn’t even notice he was missing until now. How completely selfish of me.”
“It’s hardly surprising after all you’ve been through today. Don’t upset yourself. Jock isn’t planning on being away for long, he’ll be back before you know it. Now, it really is time you were all back at ‘Corbie Cottage’.”
Jock Craw had brought Sandy and Jamie safely to Sylvania and the arch was swallowed up again by the ever-vigilant hedge.
No one could move in either direction and Hosepipe Snout the Hairy Hedgehorn felt the weight of responsibility lift from his spiky shoulders. The search for Leo could be given greater priority and he felt confident the cat would be easier to track down with the child in Crawdonia.
Sandy had been so taken up with the spectacle of the elaborate reception she’d failed to notice Jock slip out of the royal pavilion.
An inconspicuous tent had been set aside for the rendez-vous within the general clutter of commoners’ tents and other paraphernalia.
Sammy was nibbling a cherry and banana scone when the crow turned up. “Good to see you, Jock. I hear everything went more or less according to plan,” he said with a wry smile. “I need to talk to you before I go off to meet Sandy. But first, do have one of these superb scones, you look famished.”
Jock realised he hadn’t eaten for ages and helped himself to a particularly chunky one which he scoffed with undisguised satisfaction. “I managed to have a brief word with Queen Celestina before I left the ‘do’,” he said through a shower of crumbs. “She’s truly amazing. You’d never guess she’s gravely concerned about recent developments. The Queen excels at playing the relaxed, frivolous monarch but we both know how shrewd she is underneath. Her Majesty’s adamant we maintain an air of calm authority and don’t spread panic throughout the land.”
Sammy called for iced water from Cressmere spa on Moonglow Lake and he paused while a flunky filled their glasses. When the fellow was out of earshot he continued in an urgent whisper. “Recent intelligence suggests a conspiracy to free Maligna and reunite her with the anklet. Preposterous, but alarming all the same.”
“I knew things were a bit dicey, my old string-bean, but I hadn’t realised the extent of it.”
“String-bean, eh? That’s a first.” The reptile allowed himself a restrained titter. “There’s also the small matter of Leo. He could, through no fault of his own, prove to be a bit of a loose cannon. You know how it is with uninvited guests. They’ve come through the backdoor and the usual rules don’t apply. Angus has introduced an extra complication with his jiggery-pokery. The old devil’s finally given his wand to Alfie for safe keeping, but we still have to deal with his unfortunate legacy. Leo should not be here. I can’t see him with my third eye and Sylvanian magic is limited in what it can do to help him. I’ve encouraged disgruntled mutterings that the whole cat business is a huge fuss about nothing in an attempt to keep folks off the scent. We know, however, it’s not that simple.”
Sammy paused for a swig of water. “Can you imagine what might happen if our enemies were to find Leo first? They wouldn’t hesitate to use him to further their own cause. The Harpie is growing more confident with every day that passes. It’s almost as if she knows what’s going on, but how is that possible? Maligna’s guarded round the clock in that loathsome sink-hole. None of the guards has anything significant to report, even after the recent earthquake which left her prison undamaged. She’s a cunning opponent and irredeemably bad. I liked it better when she was depressed and despondent. Her upbeat mood is most disturbing.”
The crow shook his head sadly. “It’s extraordinary to think the cat could be so significant, potentially pivotal, in the current situation. I’ll pick Ralph’s brains when I go back to Irvine.” He grimaced at his choice of words. “Metaphorically, you understand! I will have to cut my stay short now that I know the severity of the situation here. Ralph may well be able to help us and there’s also the Craw Cauldron. Its magical powers are small, but it’s still worth consideration.”
Jock flexed his wings in preparation for the trip home. “It’s such a shame Sandy’s long-anticipated visit is overshadowed by all this uncertainty.”
“It’s most aggravating, but we’re Crawdonians and we relish a challenge. We’ll fight to retain our freedom whatever it takes. I’ll make sure Queen Celestina and Prince Hamish have all the facts, Indigoletta and Crawford too. Your little cousin comes across as a posturing old fuss-pot but we both know Crawf’s one hundred percent loyal and, furthermore, he’s nobody’s fool. I’ve already spoken to Alfie and Pogo about my concerns. I had supper with them the night before Estella left for Kelpien. Angus was there too. I was pretty severe with him and he now fully appreciates what we may be up against. He’ll keep his counsel. After all, he was instrumental in thwarting Maligna last time around. In those days he was a brilliant young spell-weaver at the peak of his powers.”
The serpent uncoiled, stretched and wove himself into his favourite figure of eight. “We can’t afford to take too many others into our confidence. It’s impossible to tell how far the corruption may have spread. I’ll make arrangements with Hosepipe Snout for an early opening of the arch. Safe trip and, as they say in Scotland, ‘Haste ye back’.”
Alfie delivered his passengers to ‘Corbie Cottage’ and settled the pony into her stable at the back of the house. Later over mugs of choco-mead, they chatted about the amazing reception in Sandy and Jamie’s honour. The gold and silver stars Pongo had collected hovered in the air above their heads, grouping and regrouping in ever-changing, complex patterns.
“How long will they last, WAE?”
“As long as we want them to, Sandy. We’re hardly likely to tire of them, they’re so beautiful and entertaining. Why don’t you have them in your bedroom tonight? They’re very therapeutic and they’ll help you sleep.”
Sandy was intrigued by the glittering display above Alfie’s head. “Do they glow in the dark?”
The elf raised one eyebrow. “What do you think?”
She blushed. “I think that’s the most stupid question I’ve ever asked!”
Alfie chuckled. “Maybe so.”
Pogo wasn’t letting that go unchallenged. “Don’t pay any heed to Cheeky Chops the Elf. Your whole life has been turned topsy turvy overnight; you’re in a world where a poodle can fly, so it’s not unreasonable to ask if stars still glow in the dark.”
Sandy sipped her hot drink, sitting cross-legged on the warm hearth rug. “It’s very nice of you to say that, but it was a daft question all the same. This choco-mead’s very tasty. Isn’t mead a wine made from honey?”
Alfie grinned. “Yes it is, but it won’t make you drunk if that’s what you were thinking. Sylvanian wines and spirits are only alcoholic if you’re over the lawful age to drink. The mead tailors itself to the age of the drinker which is extremely handy and saves us a lot of hassle. The pixies at the meadery don’t have to brew two different strengths and we don’t have any problems with under-aged drinking either. It’s an excellent system.”
Sandy nodded slowly. “This is an amazing place, full of surprises.”
Pongo was sitting in his basket with the Siamese cat curled up next to him having a little snooze.
Alfie kicked off his boots and rocked back in his willow chair in front of the kitchen range. “Those two seem to be getting on well.”
“Some cat,” said Pongo admiringly. “He’s very bonny, but don’t tell him I said so. We wouldn’t want him to get big-headed now, would we?”
“Surely you mean more big-headed,” Sandy said with a snigger.
The cat lazily opened one azure eye. “I heard that, you little minx.”
“Ooh, get him,” said the dog, jumping out of the basket. “Can I fetch you anything, Your Royal Furriness? Would you like a collar studded with diamonds and sapphires to bring out the blue in your twinklies? I’m sure SSS will have something suitable.” Pongo snickered when he saw Jamie’s snooty expression.
“Sounds good to me,” yawned the cat.
“Perhaps sir would like a few styles to choose from?”
“Whatever,” said Jamie, feigning boredom as he dozed off again.
Pongo nipped over to Sandy and whispered in her ear. “Wait ’til you see his face tomorrow morning. Sammy has collected loads of collars over the years, I’m sure I can persuade him to part with one when he knows who it’s for.”
Maligna had worked out a way to feed and care for her new-found companion. It was simple. She had a limitless supply of water and a mug of milk with supper, so all she had to do was eat less herself and hide scraps for Cahoots.
The name had come to her when she lay awake that first night, her meticulous, distorted mind working unceasingly. They were going to be an invincible team. It would be the Harpie and the dragon against her cruel tormentors. Cahoots was therefore the perfect name.
The young dragon understood he must never be discovered; Maligna had made sure of that. She scared him just enough, with frightful stories of what might befall them both, to ensure he never put a dragon foot wrong. In no time Cahoots was imprinted on her. The Harpie knew she had to work fast for small dragons rapidly turn into big dragons.
“We must escape from this hell-hole, darling one. This is living death for me and you deserve better; that apart, dragons grow at an alarming rate and then how will I hide you?”
Maligna spoke in an urgent whisper while Cahoots gazed adoringly into her black, featureless eyes from his den behind her pillows.
“I was very frightened the first time you sent me back through the crack in the rock, but I’m getting more confident. I’ll try not to let you down again. Maybe I’ll find a way out this time.”
“I’m sure you will, treasure. Your mission is to deliver the message I’ve taught you, but first you must get away from the island before its malign atmosphere saps your strength. You’re unlikely to be affected, being a dragon, but you’re very young so don’t take that chance. Be sure to leave a trail back here to me in case you get lost. I couldn’t bear to lose you now.”
She caressed his face with long, pallid fingers. “I have friends out there who will help you. Now you must rest so you’re refreshed for your adventure tomorrow. I’ll tell you everything else you need to know in the morning.”
The Harpie lay down on her pallet under the threadbare blanket, her face level with his. Cahoots waited behind the pillows until she extinguished the candle. There was a faint light from above where the guards were playing yet another hand of cards. In the near darkness of the sink-hole the little dragon wriggled towards Maligna and made a nest in her hair. Cahoots sighed happily and drifted off to sleep. The Harpie could hear his tiny heart beating as she lay awake plotting her next move. It was a curiously comforting sound and she placed a dry wisp of a kiss on his scaly forehead.
“Love you too…” murmured Cahoots from the edge of his dreams.
The Harpie was as old as time itself and beyond all redemption long before the island had first risen from the sea. She was disturbed and confused by her maternal feelings. This was not a good time to become emotionally attached to anything, least of all a dragon. Maligna the Harpie needed her formidable wits about her, now more than ever.
The Giant Rat arrived at his home by the River Pinkie after a very long trek. His primary concern had been to protect his exhausted little passenger.
It was a perfect, starry night and Gilbert knew he would stand out like a massive rat-shaped target in the moonlight. Stealth was not one of his strong points, but he had a new-found sense of responsibility. Leo needed looking after and the rodent had nominated himself for the job of Chief Protector.
The rat’s accommodation was more than adequate for his needs and it was warm and dry.
He had stumbled upon his current abode while being hunted by a pack of rat hounds owned by a thoroughly obnoxious character who had placed Gilbert at the top of his ‘Most Wanted’ list. The rodent finally managed to give them the slip and dived into a massive bush to recover his composure.
Gilbert failed to look before he leapt, never a wise move, and found himself at the centre of a particularly nasty variety of Crawdonian holly which should never be approached without the protection of a full suit of armour.
He stumbled backwards, plunging through a gap in the tangled holly roots into a disused mine shaft which was hidden by the whopping shrub. Gilbert’s size was to his advantage. The shaft was deep by Sylvanian standards but, from the Giant Rat’s point of view, it had the makings of a perfectly decent new home, with a handy, built-in security system as well.
The rodent dug out a route beneath the holly bush that enabled him to reach his den without injury. He felt safer there than he had since he’d been transported from ‘Woodburn’.
“We’re nearly home, Leo, keep your head down.”
The cat clung onto Gilbert though he was fast asleep and there was the unmistakeable sound of snoring.
The Giant Rat checked one last time to make sure he wasn’t being followed and crept towards the carefully camouflaged entrance that led to his den. When he was satisfied he was alone and unobserved, he crouched down under the lower branches of the holly and wriggled along on his ample belly until he reached the edge of the shaft. Gilbert carefully lowered himself into the mine and stood motionless while he listened out for any unusual sounds before moving further into the old workings where he felt most secure.
A domed area formed by the ancient holly roots was Gilbert’s sanctuary. It wasn’t designer living but it fulfilled his undemanding requirements.
He stood on his hind legs and reached up to light one of the old miner’s lamps he’d found at the foot of the shaft. Matches and lighters were second nature to the likes of Gilbert but he’d become more safety conscious since his birthday fireworks extravaganza blew up in his face. Rats, and for that matter, cats can see very well in the dark, but Gilbert believed it was more civilised to use lamps, as long as the light wasn’t visible from outside.
There was a cool, well-stocked larder. Gilbert loves his food and he’s a skilful scavenger. Sections of the shored-up roof leak when it rains and he places battered tin mugs that once belonged to the miners underneath to catch the drips. The mugs are small and have to be emptied regularly but the water stays fresh if it’s stored properly.
At the far end of the den were the Giant Rat’s sleeping quarters.
Leo woke up with a start when he heard his name called out. He slid down Gilbert’s fur and landed on the compacted earth floor.
“You’ll be safe here with me.”
The Abyssinian cat stood up on wobbly legs, stretched and promptly fell over. He was fuzzy with sleep and weighed down by suffocating layers of anxiety and exhaustion.
The rodent desperately wanted to raise Leo’s spirits and would have turned somersaults while juggling Indian clubs on a monocycle if he’d thought it might do the trick. Somersaults were easy-peasy. Sadly, or possibly fortunately depending on your point of view, he was clean out of Indian clubs and monocycles. He had established earlier that sparklers and fireworks were definitely taboo. “…and a good thing, too,” he told himself with studied conviction. That left the Giant Rat with a straightforward multiple choice question.
If you’re not sure what to do next, but you’re trying your best to help a scared cat who’s had a very weird time, do you offer him: (a) food, (b) grub, (c) nosh, (d) chow, or (e) tucker?
Tick as appropriate.
Gilbert was famished as a result of his strenuous activity so, after careful consideration, he mentally ticked (a) and (c). It seemed churlish not to tick (b), (d) or (e), so he thought he might as well make it a full house/tummy (delete as appropriate).
He settled Leo in a cosy pile of fresh shavings he’d gnawed from old pit props and gave him some water before expertly preparing a tasty supper. The cat gobbled the delicious mix of stale cheese and fish heads sprinkled with sweetcorn kernels and slices of dried apricot.
Leo felt much better after he’d eaten. His features relaxed and he lost the anguished expression that had been with him since he arrived in Sylvania.
The Giant Rat had brashly entered his life a few hours earlier but Leo felt it was a fortuitous meeting for them both. It felt great to have a big guy like Gilbert as a pal in this strange world. Leo knew intuitively the rat was a lonely, well-meaning soul, very much in need of a chum and the little cat was more than happy to fill that gap in his life.
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