The Underground City, page 19
Neil and Clara looked delighted but eyed one another awkwardly, nevertheless. What about Lewis? Were there no presents for him?
“We’d like you to take them home and keep them until Christmas Day,” Lady Ellan added, smiling understandingly at their discomfort, “so that you open them at the same time as Lewis.”
Neil grinned. He might have known that they wouldn’t forget Lewis.
“We’ve been doing a little scheming,” Lord Rothlan admitted, placing an arm round Lewis’s shoulders.
“You see, we can’t actually give you presents to take home, Lewis,” Lady Ellan said, “because your parents would wonder where they came from, but we have cast a spell so that you’ll have quite a few more gifts than usual. I hope that’s all right?”
“Thank you,” Lewis said gratefully, feeling touched that they’d gone to so much trouble on his behalf.
The Sultan then stood up and beckoning Neil and Clara forward, held out two small packages wrapped in scarlet paper. “The MacArthur, Lord Rothlan and I,’ he smiled, “have decided to give you each a very special, magic gift. Now that you’ve become so involved in our world we felt it suitable and sensible to give you some protection against its dangers.”
Their excited smiles faded at the seriousness of his voice and their faces became attentive. “Thank you, your majesty,” they said, looking somewhat doubtfully at the brightly-wrapped gifts.
“Open them, then,” urged Lady Ellan with a smile. “They won’t bite you, I promise!”
Hands trembling slightly, they tore off the wrapping paper to reveal small velvet boxes. They both knew what they were. Ring boxes. Clara flipped open the lid of her box and her face fell as she looked at the ring inside. She glanced across at Neil, who didn’t look too impressed, either. They’d expected something bright, sparkling and exciting, not this plain band of rather dull silver. “Is it a magic ring?” she queried, trying to hide her disappointment as her eyes met those of the Sultan.
“I know they don’t look very special,” the Sultan apologised, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at Lord Rothlan and the MacArthur who were grinning broadly, “but they’re made from a very special metal and I’m afraid there’s not a lot we can do to improve their appearance.”
“What do they do?” Clara asked, curiously.
“Well … if you wear the ring on this finger,” the Sultan said, indicating the third finger of Clara’s right hand, “then nothing will happen, but if you slip it onto the ring finger of your left hand … why don’t you try it on and see for yourself.”
“Okay,” Clara smiled a trifle nervously as she lifted the ring carefully from its box, slipped it onto the third finger of her left hand — and immediately disappeared.
“Clara!” her mother sprang to her feet. “Clara? Where are you?”
“I’m still here, Mum,” Clara’s voice said, “Wow! I … I think I’ve just become invisible! This is fantastic! Neil! Lewis! Can you see me?” She reached out and Lewis jumped as he felt her hand grab his arm. It was the weirdest thing.
Neil’s heart lifted excitedly as he looked around, trying to see the slightest trace of Clara. “Come on, Neil,” her voice urged, “try yours on! It’s amazing! The magic rings make us invisible!”
She watched as Neil slipped his ring onto his finger and promptly vanished as well.
“Crumbs,” Neil said, walking round, “this is great! It gives you a strange feeling, though, doesn’t it? Everybody looks … not quite real, somehow.”
She nodded and then remembered that he couldn’t see her. “Yes,” she agreed, “it’s … well … magicky. I can’t see you at all now but I can see mum, dad and everyone else through a sort of gauze … like a thin veil.”
“Well, we can’t see you through a veil,” her father said. “We can’t see you at all — not even a shadow.”
“There are one or two things to remember about the rings,” the Sultan said with a smile, “but we’ll tell you all about them later. Nothing at all to worry about,” he assured them, catching a glimpse of Mrs MacLean’s face.
“Could you take the ring off, now, Clara,” her mother said, trying not to sound too concerned. “I want to see you appear again!”
“To see if it works both ways, you mean,” said Neil.
“Don’t worry about the children, Janet,” the Sultan smiled, “they’ll come to no harm.”
Clara pulled off her ring and, transferring it to the third finger of her right hand, materialized the minute the switch was made. “Thank you, your majesty,” she said, giving the Sultan a really delighted smile. “Honestly, I’ve never had a more wonderful present!”
“Absolutely brilliant,” agreed Neil as he, too, pulled the ring from his finger. Never, in his wildest dreams had he expected anything like this. Magic rings! They were truly wonderful gifts but what meant more to him was the fact that the Sultan was trusting them with real magic.
“What if we lose the rings, though?” Clara looked at the Sultan worriedly. Her mother was always getting on to her about being untidy.
“You won’t lose them,” the Sultan shook his head. “Prince Casimir and I have seen to that.”
Still thrilled at the thought of such a marvellous present, Neil spread his fingers and looked at it in wonder. He owned a magic ring! How cool was that!
Casimir now stood up and came forward. “I have a ring for you, too, Lewis,” he said kindly, handing him a similar box to the ones the Sultan had given Neil and Clara, “a different kind of ring, but equally useful!”
Lewis tore the wrapping paper off and, as Neil and Clara peered over his shoulder, opened the ring box carefully.
“How lovely,” Clara said. “It’s beautiful, Lewis!”
“Thank you, Prince Casimir,” Lewis said quietly, “thank you very much.” He knew just by looking at it that this was a very special ring and one that he would never be parted from. It was much more ornate than the silvery bands that decorated Neil and Clara’s fingers. It was a ring of tiny interlacing gold snakes.
Lord Rothlan raised his eyebrows as he and the MacArthur exchanged glances. They knew the significance of the ring even if Lewis didn’t.
“It’s a magic ring as well and,” Casimir added dryly, “you won’t ever lose it because I’ve hexed it to stay with you. I know how you leave things lying around all over the place.”
“Will it grant me wishes, like you did?” Lewis asked.
Casimir smiled. “No, but it will protect you from harm and if you are ever in dire trouble, Lewis, I will come to your aid.”
The sincerity in his voice brought tears to Lewis’s eyes and Casimir smiled as he slipped the ring on his finger.
As the MacLeans crowded round to admire Lewis’s ring, Casimir turned to look at Kitor. “I still have two presents to give,” he announced gravely, “and the first one is for Kitor.”
Kitor had been sitting very quietly on the Ranger’s shoulder all evening, trying to avoid Casimir’s glance. He knew the prince had noticed him and had asked about him for he’d seen him talking to Lord Rothlan and to Clara. They must have told him how he had lied to Prince Kalman to save Clara’s life. He hoped that Casimir understood that he just couldn’t have seen her killed by a thunderbolt.
The prince held his arm out. “Come, Kitor!” he commanded.
Everyone watched as Kitor flew to the prince. The poor bird was trembling as he flapped across the cave but one glance into the prince’s eyes, reassured him.
“This, Kitor, is your present from me,” Casimir said, gesturing towards the magic mirror.
Nothing happened for a few seconds and then the mirror rippled as a crow flew through it. Kitor’s heart missed a beat. It couldn’t be! Surely it couldn’t be Cassia?
“Come, Cassia,” the prince said, and she flew to him and perched beside Kitor.
Had everyone not started to clap, Kitor would most certainly have burst into tears. As it was, he fluttered his wings happily and the two birds sailed into the air and swooped round the cavern in delight at being together again.
There were tears in Clara’s eyes, however, as she ran up to Casimir. “You couldn’t have given Kitor a more wonderful present, Prince Casimir!” she said, wiping her eyes. “He’s so happy!”
Kabad’s name was called next and as the little water goblin moved shyly forward, Prince Casimir smiled gently and presented him with a small, slim spear. Kabad’s eyes shone as he stammered his thanks. Everyone clapped as he hefted it in his hand; the balance was perfect and the steel tip shone, gleaming and sharp. Tears shone in his eyes as he bowed low to the prince. It was all that he needed to make life ideal for there were fish in his loch and now he could go hunting.
As Neil and Clara fussed round the little water goblin, admiring his spear, Lewis drew Prince Casimir to one side. “I’m glad that I went to Al Antara that night,” he said, quietly. “I can’t believe it only happened a few months ago — Jack, Colin and Peter seem like silly kids now and yet I was always so anxious to impress them! They must have thought me a real moron!”
“They’re still young, Lewis. But like you, they’ll be more sensible when they’re older. You’ll be fine now and you’ll enjoy your new school, I’m sure.”
Lewis suddenly burst out laughing. “You’ll never believe it, Casimir, but I came out top in their entrance exam and the Headmaster said he’d never known a boy of my age with such an excellent knowledge of Scottish history! Mum and Dad were over the moon!” He paused. “And so was I,” he said honestly. “I’d never have done it if I’d stuck to comics!”
“So all the reading we did in the Robinson’s library was of use after all, then?”
“Yes, but it was interesting, Casimir. You know, when I grow up, I think I’d like to have a library like the Robinsons.”
Casimir looked into the future and he smiled at Lewis. “You will, Lewis,” he said. “You will.”
34. Wheel of Fortune
As Murdo made his way up the High Street to Wullie’s wee flat, he didn’t appreciate the beauty of the scene around him. In fact he barely noticed it. It was snowing hard, the drifts were deep and the High Street, almost mediaeval in appearance, loomed vaguely through the driving flakes. His problems, however, were closer to home. His shoes were thin, he couldn’t afford boots and his feet were already wet and freezing cold. Tammy Souter, who plodded along at his side, was cold as well. He drew his thin coat tighter round him and coughed continuously as he walked up the steep snow-covered street to Wullie’s Close.
“Cheer up, Murdo,” he said, grabbing him as he slipped on the icy pavement, “just be glad that we’re here and not in a cell in Saughton Prison!”
Murdo nodded. There was always that. They were free men.
“I still can’t work it out,” Tammy said as they turned into Wullie’s Close and started to climb the stairs. “They caught us fair and square!”
“Aye, but I did help Sir Archie, you know,” Murdo said, thinking back to his interview with the Chief Constable. “I gave him the map of the Underground City, didn’t I? And I was thinking, too, you know, that if he’d made a case against us then all the business of the ghosts would have had to come out into the open and I’m pretty sure he didn’t want that to happen. I’m just glad that they didn’t nick Wullie! He’s not tough like us.”
“Have you heard that he’s given up smoking?” Tammy asked, grinning.
“Given up smoking? You must be joking! Wullie’s a sixty a day man!”
“Auld Mrs Ramsay at the sweetie shop told me. Said her takings had gone down since he stopped!”
“I heard she was going to close down altogether,” Murdo said, knocking on Wullie’s door.
“Aye! Her man’s ill and she can’t run the wee shop all on her own.”
They knocked on Wullie’s door and waited expectantly as they heard the key turn in the lock. “Merry Christmas, Wullie,” they said, pressing small gifts into his hands, “Merry Christmas!”
“Come away in,” Wullie said, taking their coats. “Are your feet wet? Look, just put on these slippers.”
Murdo understood the reason for the slippers when Wullie showed him proudly into his brand new living-room.
They stood gaping in complete and utter surprise at the transformation, for Wullie’s living-room had, in the past, been a bit of a black hole. And that, I might add, is being charitable. Now it shone in shades of cream and warm reds. A big plasma TV set stood in one corner and a Christmas tree that reached the ceiling, decorated the other. Christmas decorations hung everywhere and the room was blissfully warm.
“Do you like it?” asked Wullie anxiously. “I’ve stopped smoking, you see,” he said proudly, “and I really had to have the whole place done over. It’s a funny thing but ever since I met the ghosts in the Underground City I haven’t been able to abide the smell of cigarette smoke. Makes me fair sick, it does!”
“But where did you get the money for all this?” demanded Murdo. “It looks as though you’ve spent a fortune!”
“Ocht,” said Wullie reddening, “the wee woman in the shop was a decent body and she said I could take it all on credit and I don’t have to pay anything back until next year!”
Murdo groaned. So Wullie had been conned into buying it all! “Why didn’t you ask me first, you great idiot?” he said, appalled. “They’ve done you! She gets a whacking commission and you’ve probably sold your soul to a finance company for life. Do you know the interest they charge?”
Wullie shook his head, high finance not being his strong point. “No,” he said, “they didn’t mention that!”
“I bet they didn’t!” growled Murdo. “Well, I’ll go and see what I can do for you although it’s probably too late!”
“Would you like some mulled wine?” Wullie asked, looking at them anxiously.
“Mulled wine?” Tammy Souter said, totally flabbergasted.
“Mulled wine!” Murdo repeated, in much the same tone.
“I was in Sainsbury’s, you see,” Wullie admitted, “and it was on offer!”
“Sainsbury’s!” Murdo’s mind went into overdrive. Wullie in Sainsbury’s when he’d never been beyond the corner shop in his life!
“Well, we’ve been through a bad time what with the robbery going wrong and everything and I thought that … well, it’s Christmas, isn’t it! I wanted you to enjoy it. I’ve got the wine all ready, you know. It’s heating up!”
Murdo and Tammy exchanged looks. It wasn’t the dram they’d expected but they didn’t want to spoil things for Wullie so, forcing a smile, they agreed that mulled wine was just the sort of thing to drink on Christmas Day.
The warmth of the room was having its effect and as they relaxed and looked round, they realized that Wullie really had gone to town in the furniture shop; pictures on the wall, ornaments and everything.
“Here we are,” Wullie said, bringing the wine in on a tray. It was steaming and fragrant in posh glasses with silver holders. New as well, thought Murdo, worriedly. What else had the old biddy in the shop managed to sell him?
Two or three glasses of wine later, Murdo was not quite as observant but he still noticed that the generous slices of turkey, the crisp roast potatoes and delicious greens were not of Murdo’s making. The mystery of his new cookery skills, however, was soon solved. Wullie beamed as he watched them eating the turkey hungrily. “Just tell me if you want another helping,” he said casually. “It’s no problem! The packets come frozen and I just have to pop them into my new microwave for a few minutes and they’re ready.”
It wasn’t until they’d had second helpings of turkey and Christmas pudding that they sat back in their chairs and voted it the best meal they’d ever had. It was then that their eyes strayed to the presents, wrapped carefully in bright Christmas paper and decorated with big bows of red ribbon, lying under the Christmas tree. Neither Murdo nor Tammy had thought it good manners to mention them although they were sure that Wullie would have a couple there for them.
Wullie opened his gifts first. Murdo had given him a pair of gloves and Tammy had bought him a scarf. Wullie beamed at them. “Just what I needed,” he confessed, delightedly. “The weather’s been that bad lately.”
Murdo and Tammy Souter sat up expectantly as he staggered over with a box from under the tree. “There are two for you, Murdo,” he said, his face slightly red with exertion, “and these two,” he said, hauling them over the carpet towards Tammy, “are yours!”
He watched them tear the paper. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, smiling broadly, “but I’ve given you both the same thing.”
It couldn’t be chocolates, Murdo thought, ruling out that option immediately; chocolates didn’t come in such huge boxes. What on earth could be inside them?
Then the banknotes spilled out onto the brand new red carpet. Hundreds of them! Thousands of them! Tammy tore the wrappers off the second present and there were more.
Wullie sat back in his chair and watched them with a huge grin on his face. This was his moment! He knew they thought him thick and most of the time he agreed with them. But this time he hadn’t been thick! He’d been clever!
Murdo jumped to his feet, flinging banknotes in all directions. “Wullie! You great idiot! How did you do it?” he shouted.
Tammy sat, utterly thunderstruck, sifting the notes through his fingers. “They’re all used and they’re all fifties,” he muttered, looking up at Wullie in awe. “There’s a fortune here!”
The rest of the afternoon, needless to say, was spent counting the notes — lovingly, one by one.
“You see, I remembered what you told me, Murdo,” Wullie explained, totally overcome by the praise they heaped on him. “I remembered you said that the folk in the pub would be suspicious if I walked through with a bin-liner full of cash so I stuffed all my clothes with as many banknotes as I could and just walked out. It was easy and not one of the coppers in the High Street stopped me on the way home or anything!” he said, beaming proudly.
“You carried all this money in your coat?” queried Murdo doubtfully, looking at the number of notes that littered the carpet.
