Read Fair Wind to Widdershins Online
Authors: Allan Frewin Jones
“Oh, I think not,” said her aunt, her fingers still wiggling as the ropes of smoke spun out and wrapped themselves more and more tightly around Esmeralda and Trundle’s ankles.
Trundle realized that his numbed feet were anchored to the floor. He could feel a bitter coldness rising up through his legs. He slashed at the sinister threads, but the blade of his sword passed right through them and they kept on coming. Even as he fought to get free, the black strands came curling and swirling up his legs, past his knees and around his waist.
“You brute!” gasped Esmeralda, fighting in vain against the paralyzing Roamany magic. “I’ll pay you back for this! You see if I don’t!”
“Yes, dear, of course you will,” crooned her aunt. “But right now, Aunty has some business to attend to.” She called out, “Bruno! Get in here! I need you!”
A few moments later, the door to the caravan opened behind them. Trundle craned his stiffening neck to see who had entered.
It was a large, muscular bear clad in a circus costume, with a rather witless expression on his face. “Yus, ma’am?” he growled in a dull, flat voice.
Millie Rose smiled kindly at Esmeralda. “Now you mustn’t think for one moment that Aunty doesn’t love you to pieces, my dear,” she said gently. “But you always were such a …
scamp
! Naughty enough to break an aunty’s poor soft heart, you are!” She sighed. “Bruno is going to take you both somewhere that I’m afraid you might find rather dark and dank and uncomfortable. While you’re there, I’d like you to have a good long think.”
“About what, exactly?” snarled Esmeralda.
“Why, about whether you’re willing to help Aunty find the rest of the crowns, of course.”
“Go find them yourself!” shouted Trundle. “We won’t help you!”
“And that goes double for me with brass bells on!” added Esmeralda.
“Well, you see, I
would
go and find them myself,” said Millie Rose. “But I can’t do it without you. The prophecy of the Badger Blocks made it quite clear that the two of
you
must do the actual hunting. So you need to choose whether you’d like to find the crowns for me—or whether you’d rather wait till Captain Grizzletusk arrives to help you make up your minds.”
“We left Grizzletusk on the other side of the Goills!” shouted Esmeralda. “He’s whole skies away!”
“That was very resourceful of you, my dear,” said her aunt. “But I asked the good captain to come straight to me if he ever lost track of you. So, you see, he’s on his way here right now.” She smiled, cocking her head as though listening. “Do I hear the sound of cutlasses being sharpened?” she mused. “Well, possibly. Either way, the
Iron Pig
could arrive at any moment. Won’t that be a nice surprise for all these good folk?” She chuckled genially. “That would certainly put the rats in among the cheese!”
“You wicked woman!” gasped Esmeralda. “You’d set pirates on them?”
“I might have to, if you and your little friend can’t be more reasonable,” said Millie Rose. “The magic crowns aren’t going to find
themselves
, now, are they?”
Trundle remembered all too well the ferocity of the pirate attack on his hometown of Port Shiverstones. “You couldn’t be so heartless!” he gasped.
“Well, actually, Trundle, dear, I rather think I could,” said the old lady. “You two go and have a good long ponder. But remember, my dears, Aunty won’t take no for an answer, and if you can’t make up your own minds, Grizzletusk will have to help you. Pirates can be very rough. Small things like you might easily get broken! And then where would we be?”
“I hate you!” shrieked Esmeralda.
“Oh, you’re just saying that because you’re cross with me,” her aunt chided. “But don’t worry, Aunty forgives you. Bruno! Take them and lock them in the midden trailer, there’s a good chap.”
“Yus, ma’am,” growled the bear.
Trundle was able to twist his neck enough to see the big, burly bear looming up behind them with his great furry arms stretched out.
“I’m sorry, Trundle,” Esmeralda groaned, the black coils writhing up around her neck. “I’m sorry I ever got you into this!” And then the fingers of smoke slid around her mouth, and she could say no more.
T
rundle fought ferociously against the smoky black coils that poured from the old lady’s fingers. They were wrapped around him like freezing-cold snakes—numbing his limbs—rooting him to the spot—paralyzing him. And now they were climbing up around his neck. But all his struggles were in vain; it was impossible to get free of Millie Rose Thorne’s evil spell.
Then, at the moment of final despair, Trundle heard a small, cheerful voice pipe up from just outside the open door of the caravan.
“Hello, you people,” said Jack. “Here you are at last! I’ve been looking all over for you!”
Trundle saw Jack’s beaming face pop out from behind Bruno’s great shaggy leg. “What’s going on here, then?” he asked innocently. “Are we having fun and games?”
Esmeralda’s aunt glared at the newcomer. “Get out of here, you vermin!” she hissed.
Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “I say!” he exclaimed. “That’s a bit strong, madam!”
But in that moment, while the old lady’s attention was distracted, Trundle felt the black coils loosen enough for him to be able to lift his arm and to bring the flat of his sword down sharply on her wiggling fingers.
“Yow!” she shouted, snatching her hands away. “That hurt, you nasty boy!”
“Good!” Trundle declared. “Serves you right!”
“Trundle, I’m free!” yelled Esmeralda, beating at the wavering threads that wound around her. The coils were no longer black. They had become gray and pale and as insubstantial as mist.
Trundle spun around to confront Bruno. The big bear’s arms were still stretched out to grab them, but he snarled and drew back as the blade whisked to and fro in front of his muzzle.
“Run for it!” Trundle yelled.
“You ain’t going nowhere!” growled Bruno, lunging forward again.
“Take a bet?” yelled Esmeralda, diving between the bear’s legs. She plunged headfirst through the caravan door, crashing into Jack and bowling him off his feet. They landed in a tangled heap at the foot of the steps.
“I got
you
, anyhow, you urchin!” snarled Bruno, his little eyes burning in his big face as he lurched toward Trundle.
“Urchin, indeed!” yelled Trundle, prancing to one side and poking his sword at the bear’s big hairy belly. “Take that!” The thick fur blocked his thrust, but the very tip of the blade made contact with flesh. The bear let out a howl of anger and pain.
“Grab him, you dolt!” Trundle heard Millie Rose shout.
Not likely! thought Trundle.
The bear’s arms swung at him like a huge pair of pincers. Trundle ducked down and rolled to the doorway. Giving Bruno a parting prod in the big toe, he flung himself out of the caravan and down the steps.
He crash-landed on Jack and Esmeralda just as they were getting up. All three sprawled breathlessly in the grass. Trundle was aware of a twanging noise from a musical instrument that was strapped to Jack’s back.
There was a ferocious roar from above. Bruno’s brawny shape filled the doorway to the caravan. His eyes burned with fury, his jaws gaping, his lips drawn back to reveal rows of sharp yellow fangs.
The three companions stared up at the hideous vision for a split second. Then they were on their feet and running like crazy through the crowded Roamany fairground.
Roaring and snarling, Bruno came lumbering after them.
“This way!” panted Esmeralda as they ducked and dived among the sideshows and booths. She vaulted into a Stun-a-Stoat stall, and as the other two followed, she pulled them down under cover.
“We’re not here!” she hissed to the puzzled-looking stallholder.
“Fair enough,” he said, unperturbed.
Trundle heard the rapid approach of ponderous feet. There was the rasp of panting breath. “Have you seen two hedgehogs and a squirrel come this way?” growled Bruno.
“Yessir, Mr. Strongbear,” said the stallholder, pointing randomly. “They went thataway!”
Bruno snarled in frustration and went careering off.
“Thanks, Tinker,” Esmeralda said to the stallholder, rising and peeking over the top of the wooden barrier.
“Don’t mention it, princess,” said Tinker. “Glad to help.”
“It’s all right,” Esmeralda said to her friends. “He’s gone. Now let’s get out of here!”
“I think … we’re safe … now!” gasped Esmeralda, snatching a glance over her shoulder as they raced down Port Tentercombe High Street.
“When we get … a moment…” panted Jack, “can someone … please tell me … what’s going on?”
“Horrible treachery!” said Esmeralda. “Unbelievably horrible treachery!”
“You can say that again!” added Trundle.
“We have to get off this island right now!” said Esmeralda. “Let’s hope those provisions we bought have been put aboard the
Thief in the Night
—otherwise we’ll have to set sail without them!” And so saying, she put on a renewed burst of speed, and the three friends went hurtling through Port Tentercombe like rockets.
They were in luck. The stern of the
Thief in the Night
was piled high with boxes and sacks and crates. The Gents’ and Ladies’ Outfitters had not let them down.
Esmeralda leaped into the skyboat and started unfurling the sail, while Jack and Trundle untied the mooring ropes. The
Thief in the Night
bobbed free of its moorings, and Jack and Trundle jumped aboard. Jack got busy with the rigging, and Esmeralda clambered over their provisions to get to the tiller.
The wind caught in the sail, and the skyboat rose into the air. Esmeralda turned the tiller, and the slim vessel described an elegant curve in the air, rising above Port Tentercombe.
Trundle peered down. They were sailing out over the Roamany fairground. He thought he even caught a glimpse of Millie Rose Thorne’s caravan before the skyboat sailed higher in the sky and the colors merged and blurred in the green of the wide meadowlands and hills of Tenterwold.
“She’s a bit sluggish,” Esmeralda called to Jack. “It must be all this weight. Jack, can you set the jib sail for me? The main sail might not be enough to give us the speed we need.”
“Aye, aye,” said Jack, and a few minutes later, a second sail was up and filling with wind.
“That’s more like it!” said Esmeralda. “Trundle, be a good fellow and have a hunt through the stuff for the sky charts we bought.”
Trundle eyed the large pile of provisions. “What will they look like?” he asked.
“A metal tube with writing on it,” said Esmeralda. “The charts will be rolled up inside.”
Trundle began to search. It wasn’t easy.
Among the equipment that Esmeralda had purchased was a barrel filled with fresh spring water, an economy-sized box of hardtack biscuits, a barrel of fresh fruit, another barrel of dried fruit, a box of salt fish, a brace of Gravelsdyke salami and a couple of wheels of very ripe Old Sox Tenterwold cheese. Also in the pile, there was a sun compass, blankets and oilskins, hurricane lamps, rope, soap, sticks, picks, a shovel, and some distress flares for just in case—oh! And right at the very bottom, in the most inaccessible place possible, the brass tube of sky charts!
Trundle struggled to free himself from the pile of provisions, clutching the tube in triumph as he emerged.