The Spin (32 page)

Hector got back onto his spitfyre's back as calmly as if it were a normal day. ‘Come on, Sparkit!' he waved the sword. ‘Up we go! Home!'

‘Wait! Stop!' Stormy scrambled up onto Seraphina's back. He dug his fingers under the rope again and managed to loosen it a little. ‘Seraphina, dear, don't fight it,' he told her. ‘You'll hurt yourself. Don't, don't.' Then he turned and shouted at Hector. ‘Curse you, Hector! I hate you!'

He felt a tug as Sparkit moved and pulled the rope taut. They were like a dog on a lead. They were Hector's prisoners. His heart was heavy and full of hatred. Now they had to fly where Hector flew; at the speed that Hector wanted. They were Hector's property.

Sparkit rose up into the sky and everyone followed him. Hector laughed out loud, waving the Silver Sword round his head and making whooping noises. He turned round to gloat at Stormy and make throat-cutting motions with his free hand and laugh.

They flew all the way back like that.

Soon the towers of the Academy castle and their familiar pointed rooftops came into view. Stormy felt like something with no mind of its own or will of its own. He hung his head. He didn't want Maud – or anyone – to see him like this. But what could he do?

Suddenly the rope between the two spitfyres jerked so sharply that Stormy was almost thrown off. He grabbed at Seraphina's mane.

‘Stop! Stop, Hector!' he cried.

Seraphina made a choking sound and coughed hoarsely, shaking her head as the rope tightened. She had to go faster. And faster.

‘It's all right! Don't fight it,' he called to her. ‘Don't pull.'

Sparkit had suddenly changed direction and was speeding straight towards the steep mountainside. He was flying headfirst into the rock!

Seraphina, strung behind, could only follow.

‘Stop!' Stormy cried. ‘What are you doing, Hector?'

But Hector did not turn round.

Sparkit twisted, changed direction and began to drag them into a narrow gulley. They were so close to the green and grey of the cliffs that Seraphina's wings almost scraped the rock.

‘Let go! Let go of her!' Stormy shouted. ‘You'll kill us!'

But Hector had his head down low and didn't answer. He seemed uncomfortable. He seemed almost as desperate to cling on as Stormy was, as if, unbelievably, Hector
wasn't
in control.

Seraphina and Stormy could only follow, pulled this way and that, dragged along like a fish on a line.

Then the blue and the brown of Bluey and Polaris were with them too, and the four of them were flying at breakneck speed in the narrow gap. The air was loud with the rush of their wings and throaty cries.

‘There's no space! Get back!' Hector roared. ‘Back!'

But Bluey and Polaris didn't hear or couldn't understand. Their wings were almost touching. The air was full of tumbling stones, grit and flying leaves.

Polaris came in closer and closer until suddenly his wings tangled with Bluey's and both pulled up, lost balance and began to fall. Bluey spun off and bounced into the rocks. He crashed into loose boulders and they toppled down on him and knocked him to the ground. Bentley was thrown off. The two lay broken and still on a wide ledge.

Polaris tipped head over heels and hurtled into a thicket of bushes. Petra was tossed onto a flat rock with a terrible smacking sound. Polaris tumbled down and down into the valley, screaming wildly.

That was as much as Stormy could see because Hector was forcing him onwards, faster and faster. It was as if Sparkit had caught the scent of something on the wind and was drawn towards it like an arrow speeding to the target, and Seraphina and Stormy were forced to follow.

Then Stormy saw what Sparkit was chasing and his blood ran ice cold.

It was Mungo.

The moleman had come onto the hillside to see the race. He had no idea how dangerous it was. And Sparkit had got scent of him. Nothing could stop the grubbin-hating spitfyre now.

Mungo was trying to hide, ducking down amongst the bushes and boulders on the side of the mountain. But there was nowhere to go.

Hector hammered the flat of the Silver Sword on Sparkit's rump – not urging him on, but trying to make him turn back!

But Sparkit wouldn't turn.

Stormy and Seraphina swung along behind them, powerless to do anything. Sparkit circled in over the grubbin's head, closer and closer, until his massive wings brushed the overhanging rock, ripping out leaves and twigs. He almost crashed against the cliff, then turned and circled off again, throwing Hector to one side so he nearly slipped off Sparkit's back.

‘Stop! Stop, you fool! Sparkit!' His fingers slipped from the reins – and the rope.

The rope went slack. They were free.

Seraphina immediately extended her wings as brakes. She swung away and hovered above the other spitfyre.

Mungo was crouched beneath a rowan tree.

Sparkit had been forced to circle off to avoid crashing into the cliff, but now came straight back at the grubbin, eyes blazing madly, sparks and black smoke billowing from his nostrils. The sun shone off his flanks as if they were made of dull metal. He looked unimaginably fierce and alien, not like a living being at all.

‘Help! Help!' Mungo called.

Sparkit snapped at the little rowan tree and yanked it from the ground, roots and all. He tossed it aside; a shower of soil rained down over the grubbin and rattled down on the hillside. Mungo yelped and dived behind a boulder. He began to crawl towards the path, like an animal seeking its burrow, but Sparkit was back. Now he was hanging above Mungo's head, his wings held aloft, poised to strike.

‘No!' Stormy cried.

Sparkit's eyes gleamed with malice as he swept down, open-mouthed, and plucked the grubbin from his perch in his teeth.

Mungo screamed. He kicked and thrashed his arms but he was powerless in the great spitfyre's grip.

Stormy watched in horror. What could he do?

Seraphina was gliding round gently, circling, watching. Now she steadied herself, her shoulders tensed, her wings tipped and curved and she pitched down.

Amazed, Stormy simply held on.

Seraphina swooped silently towards Sparkit. She was a rainbow arrow, diving below him, going down, and then further down, so when Stormy looked up, he could see Sparkit's underside, his vulnerable pale grey belly. And poor Mungo, legs bicycling hopelessly in thin air.

Sparkit, heedless of Hector's shouts and anger, was flying up towards the Academy with his prize, but it was an almost vertical climb, and within a few moments his great wings were beating more slowly with the effort.

Below him, unseen, little Seraphina began to circle. Round and round she flew without any effort or sound as if she'd found an invisible air current that she was riding. Faster and faster she went, then, with no warning, she flew straight at the mountain wall. Stormy toppled to one side, righted himself, threw his arms round her neck, nearly fell, hung on.

‘Seraphina!' he cried, seeing the wall rushing up. ‘Seraphina! No!'

But at the last moment, just as he thought they'd hit the rock, she twisted and, using her strong legs, ricocheted off the wall with a harsh metallic sound as hooves hit stone. Stormy shuddered at the impact. He was almost knocked off her back, but clung on. Seraphina darted across to the chasm to the next wall and sprang off that in the same way. Then she bounced off another wall, turned and vaulted off the next. Each leap gave her more power and more speed. Now she accelerated until she was going so fast she didn't touch the sides at all, but began to spiral upwards, like a corkscrew rising up on a whirlpool of air.

The
Spin!
She was doing the Spin!

Stormy laughed out loud. ‘Seraphina! You star!'

Round and round they whizzed, as if they were in a vortex.

Hector's goggled face peering down at them was full of horror and amazement.

Seraphina came whirling up with her wings tucked in close to her side. She was a rocket. A torpedo. A bullet. She shot straight into Sparkit's underbelly –

Whoosh!

There was a tremendous collision of body against body and Sparkit somersaulted backwards. Hector yelped and dived forward, locking his arms round Sparkit's neck. The Silver Sword fell from his grasp.

And Sparkit dropped Mungo.

The grubbin plummeted like a stone, tumbling over and over into the valley below, screaming as he went, a whirl of legs and arms, like a broken wheel.

Seraphina shot after him.

Sparkit was winded and flew this way and that in confusion. He was giddy and dazed by the impact. All Hector could think about was his trophy and he jabbed his finger at the fallen Silver Sword. It was lodged in a crevice a few hundred metres below them, shining, tantalising, a dream.

‘That way!' he screamed. ‘The Sword!'

But Sparkit only had eyes for the grubbin. He went for Mungo again.

Now the two spitfyres were racing to reach Mungo, who was still plummeting through the air.

Sparkit jetted out plumes of fire and smoke but Seraphina was nimble as a flea and zigzagged out of his way. She shot down through the gulley like a meteor, faster than Sparkit and more nimble.

Go, Seraphina, go
, Stormy urged her.

Mungo was caught on the branches of a small tree jutting out of the hillside. He was flapping like a bit of washing, yelping and shouting.

Seraphina glided in beneath him, hovering with her wings beating gently. Sparkit was coming.

‘Jump!' Stormy yelled.

The dangling grubbin squealed, let go of his branch and dropped down behind Stormy. He fastened his arms round him like a crab. Sparkit was seconds behind them. He belched out balls of fire that came rolling through the air at them, but too late, and only the little tree went up in a blaze of orange flames.

Seraphina was away, flying fast. She zigzagged upwards, quickly avoiding the fireballs that Sparkit spat towards her. Stormy was dizzy; he hardly knew which was the sky and which was the ground. His ears hummed and his throat was dry.

‘Well done, my sky-rider!' the grubbin wheezed in his ear. ‘That's my boy!' He wrapped his arms more tightly round him.

Seraphina flew over the courtyard walls and into the square, where the students were peering up into the sky. They cheered as they saw the first flying horse appear. Stormy could hear surprise that it was
his
spitfyre in their shouts and cries of amazement.

Seraphina slowed and landed gently, tucking in her wings as she touched down. She was breathing heavily and her legs almost gave way beneath her as she righted herself. Her chest heaved and throbbed. She was burning hot. Stormy peeled off his helmet and goggles and wiped the sweat from his face.

Sparkit came next, roaring, billowing fire and smoke so he was almost invisible inside the cloud of grey. The students scattered, taking shelter as he skidded into the square.

Sparkit galloped across the yard towards Seraphina, his hooves ringing out loud and hard on the stones. The whites of his eyes showed; dense, dark smoke curled from his nostrils. He snapped his jaws and spat out fire.

Seraphina backed into the corner near the tower. The grubbin clutched tighter at Stormy, whimpering.

‘Stop him, Hector! Stop your spitfyre!' Stormy cried.

‘I can't. It's the grubbin he wants. Just hand over the grubbin,' Hector shouted. ‘It's the only thing that'll stop him. It's his life's blood now. He needs them. He must have them.'

‘He can't have this one!' Stormy yelled.

‘What's going on?' It was the Director. He flung back the door and marched down the steps.

‘Control your spitfyre, Hector!' Mr Jacobs shouted, running along behind the Director. ‘Keep him back!'

‘I can't!' Hector was pulling on the reins and digging in his heels but Sparkit was incensed, like something possessed. Steam rose from his glistening coat. He tossed his head and let out a shrill whinny that set Stormy's teeth on edge. Sparkit was edging closer, snapping again and again at Seraphina, at the wall and now at Mr Jacobs as he tried to get near.

‘If you can't –' Mr Jacobs took a dart from his pocket. ‘I shall have to quieten him, Hector,' he warned. ‘Do something, or I shall have to.'

‘No, don't do that!' Hector roared. ‘Sparkit, Sparkit, down. Down. Relax!'

Mr Jacobs was already fitting a dart to his gun and aiming it. ‘This is your last warning . . .'

‘Sparkit, relax!' But Sparkit did not. Could not.

Hector jumped off his back, just as the dart hit Sparkit's neck. Almost instantly the spitfyre's front legs buckled. The rest of his great body slowly began to crumple, his neck flopped, his head hit the stone with a
thonk
and he toppled to the ground in a dead sleep.

Hector strode towards the Director. ‘So much for your
vitamins
,' he muttered sarcastically. ‘Thanks for nothing,' he sneered. ‘Nothing!'

‘What
vitamins
?' Mr Jacob asked.

‘I've no idea at all,' the Director said quickly. ‘Where's the sword? What have you done with the Silver Sword?' He looked round at the gathering of students.

‘The Director does know about the vitamins, Mr Jacobs,' Stormy interrupted. ‘He knows everything.' The grubbin shivered behind him as he went on. ‘The vitamins are a drug. A yellow powder, and they give it to the Star Squad spitfyres. It makes them catch grubbins. That's what the Star Squad do. They bring the molemen here, take their money and –'

‘Be quiet, boy. Where are the others?' the Director interrupted. ‘And where, Hector, is my Silver Sword?'

‘Just a moment –' Mr Jacobs tried, but couldn't get a word in.

‘Hector cheated,' Stormy started to say, pointing at Hector. ‘He –'

But Hector was just as quick. ‘The others had to retire. Injured. Stormy lost – they'll all back me up. Stormy was last to land on Moleman Mount and he's trying to deny it. He doesn't want me to have his stupid spitfyre. Sparkit and I were just trying to –'