Maddigan's Fantasia, page 17
‘Run!’ yelled Garland. ‘Run! Get help!’ Boomer ran, but Maska ignored him, staring through the steam at Timon.
Garland and Timon leapt too. ‘Where are we going?’ asked Garland.
‘To the land of lucky chances,’ Timon said. Sickly trees closed around them. ‘Isn’t this the place where we came across?’
‘It was about here,’ Garland answered. ‘Yes. It was here.’
‘Stop then,’ said Timon.
And they stopped standing stiffly on their various rocks, turning to face Maska who looked at them, then did his own pekapeka, stepping onto one huge rock then onto another.
‘At last,’ he said. Garland stared up at a face that seemed to be skin and bone like any face and yet was somehow unreal – somehow a mere mask of reality. ‘At last! And – soon – goodbye to this horrible stinking land. What is that smell?’
‘The land is rising up to meet you,’ Timon said.
And, as he said this, the land exploded under Maska’s feet.
‘Pekapeka!’ Timon screamed to Garland, but she was already jumping for another rock, holding her hands over her head and feeling little explosions of pain as drops of boiling mud and water rained down on her. Maska, however, was overwhelmed by a geyser of steam and water and mud. Garland and Timon reached the bank at almost the same time. ‘Run!’ yelled Timon. Garland ran, but feeling suddenly sure she was not being followed could not resist turning as she ran, and looking over her shoulder saw Maska jerking convulsively. Sparks flew from his joints so that he looked like some huge firework exploding on the banks of the steaming river.
‘Don’t look!’ said Timon, though he had already looked himself. And they ran on side by side towards Goneril’s van.
Only a few minutes earlier Boomer had run towards the van too only to stop in dismay as he saw it lying on its side. He paused to catch his breath, trying to work out what had happened, then pelted on towards it even more desperately than ever. With something approaching despair he saw bodies lying on the ground … Jewel, Goneril, Tane Shell.
‘Goneril?’ he shouted dropping on his knees beside her. ‘I’ve got the cure. Goneril?’
Goneril stirred … opened her eyes … Boomer felt himself smiling with relief.
‘I’ve got it,’ he repeated. ‘It might be all right.’
‘Run!’ said Goneril, like a curious creaking echo of Garland.
‘What?’ asked Boomer. ‘I did run. I’m here to save you.’
Goneril shook her head feebly. ‘Run!’ she said again.
‘Too late,’ said a voice behind him. Boomer swung around only to find that Ozul, holding a limp Eden in his arms, was standing over him.
‘I think you’re too late for them,’ he said. ‘But I’ll take your cure. Just to be on the safe side. After all it seems to be catching, and I don’t want to be disadvantaged by any illness.’ He paused. ‘Where is the big brother? Where is Timon?’
‘He’s on his way,’ Boomer said rather vaguely, looking back over his shoulder. Ozul made a movement towards him, but he dodged away. Ozul sighed and put Eden on the ground.
‘Give me the cure,’ he said. ‘Give it to me now.’
There was a shout from the distance. Boomer did not have to turn to know that Garland and Timon had caught up with him … that they could see the difficulty he was in. ‘Every minute saved means something,’ he thought, dancing just beyond Ozul’s grabbing hand, and longing for his bike with its little motor. On that bike Boomer felt he could dodge the world’s worst villains, past, present or future. As he did his wild dance he saw Eden turn over and then, supported by his thin arms, struggle upwards. He didn’t have the strength, it seemed, to sit up properly, but propped himself up rather uncertainly, blinking vaguely. Garland and Timon came jogging up, panting and desperate.
‘You must do what I tell you or it will be the worse for your brother,’ Ozul now said, ignoring both Garland and Boomer and looking only at Timon. ‘I was instructed to bring you back with your brother and sister. You are to come back to your own time and receive your punishment.’
Garland could hardly believe it. They had been so clever, they had struggled so hard and then just as they were bringing back the apothecary’s potion to save others their victory had been snatched away.
‘You have a cure? Give it to me!’ Ozul repeated turning back towards Boomer. Boomer hesitated and then, feeling perhaps that there was no choice, tossed the blue bottle towards Ozul. The bottle curved upwards and Ozul held out his hand expecting the bottle to fall into it.
But in the middle of its flight the bottle stopped – stopped in mid air and hung there. Ozul dived to catch it but missed. Behind him Eden fell backwards, worn out by a last bit of magic. And Garland, quicker than Ozul, threw herself forward and snatched the bottle just before it struck the ground, grazing her knuckles as she did so.
And then, out of the blue, there was a small sharp explosion. Ozul swung around convulsively, stumbled and fell to his knees. From where the stream curved out of the trees, half a dozen figures rose … armed and ready. Garland could hardly believe it when she saw that the tallest among the men was Yves.
‘Leave those kids alone!’ Yves was shouting. ‘They’re Fantasia people. They belong to us.’
Ozul picked himself up clasping the back of his shoulder with one hand. He turned, looked back towards the toppled van, and then at the advancing men. And then he ran madly for his horse, swung himself into its saddle, and set off without waiting to find out what had happened to Maska. Maska’s grazing horse lifted its head, staring as if it was not quite sure what to do next. Then it made up its mind and galloped off after Ozul.
‘Don’t fire again!’ Garland heard Yves saying. ‘They’ve turned tail. Goneril! What have they done to you?’
‘Yves came back for us,’ said Timon. ‘He must have changed his mind.’ But all Garland could think of was carrying that blue jar to the wrecked wagon, for she felt sure that the apothecary’s jar she held contained an apothecary’s cure, and that she was about to save Goneril and little Jewel along with Eden, Goneril, Tane and Shell – and perhaps others as well.
‘We got over the rise there,’ said Yves, looking just a little sourly at Garland, ‘and suddenly your mother realized you were gone.’
‘It would have been really hard on us if you hadn’t come back,’ agreed Garland. ‘Thanks!’ She looked at Goneril, as the van, back on its wheels once more, but damaged and totally disordered, lumbered along following the track left by other vans. In another hour they would be part of the Fantasia once more, contained and safe from the dangers of the wild world around them.
*
‘How are you?’ she asked.
‘I’ve been better,’ said Goneril. She sounded a little weak, perhaps, yet the old tough Goneril was back in power. ‘An hour ago I was a lot worse,’ she added, winking at Garland. Then she looked over to where Jewel and Eden slept peacefully side by side. ‘It changed everything – that medicine of yours.’
‘Garland says she saw it in a vision,’ said Timon, and looked at her in a puzzled way. ‘How?’
‘Because she’s a Maddigan,’ said Goneril. ‘From old Gabrielle on, Maddigans have been able to bring magic out of themselves. They’re fantastic. That’s why we call the circus they invented Maddigan’s Fantasia.’ Garland smiled, nodding as she yawned. It was almost true. Of course, deep down, she knew there was more to it that that. Right at that moment all she wanted to do was go to sleep but she had something to do first.
Dear Ferdy, it’s been such a hard confusing day, but I think it has ended well, because we found the medicine and already Goneril, Eden, Jewel and the others too are feeling better. So we are moving on … moving on again, together. And I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow … but all I want to do now is to sleep.
16
Greentown
Dear Ferdy, We’re on our way and the land unfolds around us. And we’re into spring by now … new leaves on the fruit trees and nesting birds in some of them. You probably remember it all just as well as I do. We have been this way before, making our way to Newton. Isn’t it great to recognize certain signs and to know that, in spite of all that has happened, we are on the right road. Well, more or less the right road. We are going in the right direction anyway. Bannister sits with the maps spread over his knee, but every now and then he looks sideways at his book. He wants to read – but not maps. He wants to get into his book and to find out what happens next. But books are part of the Maddigan tradition too. At least all the stories about Gabrielle tell us that she loved books and carried them around with her in the same way that Bannister does.
So here we are, going up and over a lot of little hills and swinging and singing round the big ones, and swaying out even more widely around all those places ruined by the Chaos – those places where poison still lurks and the plants and the birds grow all strangely shaped and you told me we would grow strangely too if we drank the water or camped there.
And we’re still being followed. Ozul and Maska are trailing after us, though I wouldn’t think things would be working too well for Maska after our last adventure. Sometimes it seems as if we are finding our way through one of Bannister’s adventure books … off one page and on to another. We’ve been travelling for a while now and we are getting short of food again. Maddie and Yves are arguing about what town to go to next … but Maddie has won. Hooray. Yves wants to go to Greentown, but …
There was a sudden sound of voices … voices raised, excited about something and, Garland thought, rather dismayed. She scrambled up and peered through the window.
They had reached Kapai, the little town by the river which Maddie had wanted them to visit. ‘It’s a friendly place,’ she had said to Yves. ‘We’ll get a few stores there and then go on to Greentown. It’s only about two or three miles out of our way, and having a circus turn up really means something to a place like Kapai. I remember the last time we were there … it was so exciting for them that we gave one of our most amazing performances.’
Garland remembered Kapai’s pleasure too, and she was glad to think that they might go back there. And she was glad to think that Maddie was prepared to argue with Yves and get her own way. But as they trundled towards Kapai she began to feel uneasy and then something stronger – distress. No one came running to meet them … indeed there was no sign of anyone moving in the town. As they moved even closer they could see houses looking as if no one had lived in them for a long time, doors swinging open, weeds growing tall or sprawling around the steps. Yves ran out in front of Maddie’s van signalling that the Fantasia should stop, and one by one the vans jolted to yet another standstill. Fantasia people clustered on the fringe of the town staring into it doubtfully.
‘What’s happened?’ Garland cried. ‘Where is everyone?’
‘That’s a good question,’ Yves replied. ‘Hey! Hello! Is anybody there?’ he shouted. Faint echoes answered him from vacant doorways along the small main street.
‘Well,’ said Maddie blankly. ‘There’s nothing for it but to swing back to Greentown. They’ll probably be able to tell us what’s happened here.’
Yves nodded, trying not to look as if he had told her so.
‘It was a really nice place,’ Garland said sadly. ‘It looks so ghostly now. Luisa’s house was down there. That was her apple tree.’ She turned to Boomer. ‘Remember? You fell out of it.’
Boomer looked embarrassed. ‘I sort of remember her,’ he mumbled. ‘I remember trying to fly from branch to branch.’
This was not the first time they had found some community had simply vanished away. The Fantasia danced its strange way backwards and forwards across a countryside that shifted and changed as if touched by the wand of a dark magician.
So, once again, they climbed into their vans or onto their horses and turned back the way they had come.
It was late afternoon by the time Greentown came into sight – a walled town with flags flying at its gates, and wind generators on the hill behind it.
‘Good timing,’ said Yves. ‘We’ll be able to turn on a show this evening no trouble at all.’
‘Strike up the band,’ suggested Maddie. ‘Let’s announce ourselves.’
Out beyond the town walls, the band struck up and, in answer to the music, the Greentown gates opened and people streamed out to meet them … laughing, shouting and welcoming them in.
Other people were noting their arrival too.
‘There they are,’ said Ozul. There was relief in his voice. ‘I thought we had lost them.’
‘We would have found them again,’ Maska said gratingly. ‘But perhaps it would be better if we were to wait near the back gate of the town. They might not see us so easily. They have proved unexpectedly difficult. And anyway in our line of business surprise is always an asset.’
By now there was something rather battered about Ozul and Maska, and it was not simply that they were now riding mules rather than the dashing black horses they had first ridden. Winding away from the front gates, retreating from the Fantasia band and the cheerful welcome, they moved in a disconsolate way … less sure of themselves than they had been in the beginning. And when at last they came to the back gates which were locked and barred they stopped short. For there, piled in great heaps, was the rubbish of the town … compost heaps of decaying food scraps, bones protruding from some of the piles … pieces of twisted metal, wooden off-cuts, tins rusting into ginger-brown flakes, while bottles … jars … tins … any objects which could be reused, were stacked on long shelves outside the walls.
Meanwhile beyond the back gates and those rubbish heaps, safe in the busy heart of the town, Garland was staring in amazement at people dressed in beautiful, colourful clothes and the markets set up around the circular space that embraced the Fantasia, every counter, it seemed, glittering with wonderful and entertaining things. Lilith squeaked with pleasure at the sight of so many bright possibilities.
The crowd around them was certainly welcoming. People clapped and cheered and then through the crowd came a small procession of about ten people offering a welcome that was somehow ceremonial. Garland suddenly found herself remembering the women who led this group.
‘Those two in the front of everyone else are sisters,’ she told Timon and Eden. ‘They run Greentown. That first one – the one in blue – is Mayo and the one in yellow is Greeta.’
‘They do look pleased with themselves,’ said Timon.
‘They are! They’re really bossy,’ Garland agreed. ‘But I suppose if you’re the boss of everything you can’t help showing it. And they’re – I suppose they’re good-hearted. They’re really generous.’
Later that evening, when the Fantasia had set itself up for a full performance, the sisters certainly showed their bossiness, but they showed their generosity too. They swept into the performance, taking their seats side by side in the grand red velvet chairs that had been prepared for them while servants set out a little table in front of them and loaded it with bowls of fruit and little cakes and bottles of wine. A tall man called Brewer stood behind their chairs. He rather puzzled Garland. Sometimes he seemed like a big brother taking care of them. Sometimes he seemed like a butler.
‘Bring us drinks, Brewer,’ Greeta cried aloud, ordering him about in a careless airy voice.
‘Very good, madam,’ Brewer said promptly.
‘He’s a treasure,’ Garland heard Greeta telling Maddie. ‘A bit of a know-all, but hard working.’
‘This is going to go well,’ Maddie told Yves a little later, with a great sigh of relief. ‘It always helps when people really want to be entertained, because they come halfway to meet you. Look at those people out there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a cheerful audience before. It’s almost as if they want to entertain us back.’
‘They do,’ replied Yves. ‘We’ve been invited to a feast afterwards. That doesn’t happen often. I must say I’m really looking forward to a bit of fun, after the last few weeks. Who knows? We might even get to dance.’
‘I’m not sure I feel altogether like dancing,’ Maddie said. ‘And what would Garland think of me?’
‘Ferdy would tell you to dance,’ Yves said. ‘Firstly because he loved dancing himself and secondly because he’d want you to be moving back towards some sort of happiness again. You know he would. And before you say it seems as if everyone is already forgetting Ferdy, let me tell you what he would say. He would say dancing was the best way of remembering him. Dancing and putting on a good show for Greentown.’
And indeed it did seem as if the evening would go like a dream. The first acts went wonderfully well; people cheered, gasped at the trapeze acts, cheered Garland’s tightrope walking and laughed at the clowns. There was only one hesitation and that was when the band came on, Boomer booming away in high spirits. The two sisters rose as one sister, making sideways gestures with their hands, and shaking their heads. No band! No music. And especially no drum. Brewer stepped forward in a commanding fashion and the drum was firmly taken away from Boomer in his first moment of hesitation. There he stood, his sticks poised in the air, while Brewer whisked the drum harness down over his arms.
‘You can have it back when you go, sir,’ he said and then carried the drum away with him and set it down beside the twin chairs, just in case Boomer might be tempted to do a little private drumming. There was nothing Boomer could do except to slide backwards, defeated and grumbling, and stand beside Garland.
