Alfie Bloom and the Secrets of Hexbridge Castle (20 page)

 

“Hey, Alfie! Christmas dinner is on the table.”

“OK, Dad. We'll be there in a minute,” called Alfie, his voice slightly muffled by the crisp white snow that blanketed the courtyard. He was sitting in the furthest corner of the garden chipping away at a stone slab under an ash tree. Setting down his dad's hammer and chisel, he brushed away the snow and stone chips and sat back on his heels to examine his work. “Well, what do you think?” he asked.

On the slab was carved a jagged outline of a bird with its wings spread in flight. Under the image he had painstakingly chiselled out the words:

HERE
LIES
AN
UNKINDNESS
OF
RAVENS
,
THE
BEST
OF
THE
BRAVEST
OF
BIRDS

“It's beautiful, Alfie,” said Madeleine, placing a sprig of mistletoe on top of the earth mound in front of the slab.

“It's a strange word for them, isn't it?” said Robin, placing a sprig of holly next to the mistletoe. “‘An unkindness'. Yet Murkle and Snitch would probably have destroyed the village and everyone in it if the ravens hadn't fought for you.”

Alfie bowed his head and stood silently for a minute in front of the grave with Robin and Madeleine. Respects paid, they traced their own footprints back through the snow, following the delicious smells drifting from the castle. Icicles dangled from the branches of the great oak tree, sparkling in the afternoon sun.

Alfie still limped slightly from his twisted ankle. The raven grave, the pain in his ankle and the healing claw mark on his chest were the only remaining traces of the battle that had been fought in Hexbridge only days earlier. Even the church spire had been mysteriously restored overnight. Alfie was very glad that he wasn't the only one to remember their adventures this time – although thanks to Caspian, the adults seemed to have forgotten all of the magical elements of the night of the school play. Their only memories were of Murkle and Snitch being arrested for going spectacularly off their rockers and attacking pupils during the performance.

“Hey, where did you guys go?” called Amy from the top of the stairs as Alfie stamped the snow from his boots at the door. She had arrived at the castle with her Gran the night before. Hopping on to the wide banister, she slid down towards him, somewhat faster than she seemed to expect thanks to Ashford's polish.

“Just saying goodbye to some friends,” said Alfie, dropping his coat to catch Amy as she flew off the end of banister.

“Boots off and take your seats,” said Granny, bustling past with a tray laden with jugs of bread sauce, red-wine gravy and her special Christmas cranberry, tangerine and cinnamon sauce.

The Great Hall looked like every Christmas fantasy rolled into one. A gigantic fir tree stretched almost from floor to ceiling, dripping with beautiful carved ornaments, coloured glass baubles and fairy lights. The huge oak table was laden with a feast fit for a king and his entire court. There was a roast leg of lamb studded with garlic and rosemary, bowls of buttered sprouts, honey-coated carrots, crispy golden potatoes, a gigantic turkey and a huge roast ham glistening with a honey glaze. Alfie sat down near a platter of little sausages wrapped in bacon and claimed six of the crispiest ones as quickly as he could.

Artan lay silent and grinning in front of the log fire that crackled away merrily in the hearth. Alfie could tell that the bear was enjoying watching everyone pull crackers and read out the silly jokes inside. Amy stuck on the false moustache and eyebrows from her cracker and wiggled them up and down until they fell into her potatoes. Ashford seemed quite recovered from being knocked out by Murkle but was under strict instructions not to do any work that day. Granny pushed him back into his seat every time he moved to help out.

Amy's gran, Lizzie, had made the most delicious desserts: plum pudding with chocolate-orange sauce, a fruity Christmas cake topped with a little village made out of marzipan and icing, and a heap of small spherical cakes dipped in white chocolate and coconut so that they looked just like snowballs.

After dinner, Alfie's dad revealed something he had been working on for months: a small solar- and water-powered engine. He had rigged it up to a large toy train that ran on tracks around the huge Christmas tree. Everyone applauded as the train tooted and began to puff and chugg its way around the tree, steam billowing from its little funnel.

“Wow, Mr B, look at it go!” said Amy as the train whizzed faster and faster around the track.

“You do know how to stop it, don't you, Dad?” asked Alfie as pine needles began to rain down from the tree with the heat of the steam. Before his dad could answer, the train flew off the track. The twins leapt out of the way as it whistled past them, shooting across the floor to smash into the far wall. The train gave one last shuddering gasp and wheezed into silence, except for the
tink-tink-tink
of cooling metal.

“Not bad at all,” said Alfie's dad happily. “Definitely a lot more stable than last month.”

Alfie shook his head and watched Ashford as he began working with Robin on the wooden puzzle cube the twins had bought him for Christmas. He realized that he didn't even know if the butler had any family of his own. He was still a mystery, but had been a great help in defeating Murkle and Snitch. Alfie wondered if he would have need of his help again anytime soon.

The responsibility of bearing the magic and living in a castle that guarded the last dragon gateway, and probably countless other secrets, was starting to weigh heavily upon Alfie. The feeling the magic had stirred inside him as he used it against the dragon had been terrifying. In that moment he had understood its power and how easily it could corrupt anyone willing to keep using it. No wonder Orin had sought to hide it. He hoped that somehow he would be able to meet the druid again soon. He had so much to ask and was starting to wonder if he would ever feel truly safe again.

“Think fast, Al!” shouted Amy. A ball of wrapping paper bounced off his face and into his pudding. Within seconds a paper fight was in full swing. Alfie pushed all worries from his mind for today and threw himself into the battle. He had so much to be grateful for: loyal friends – both mortal and magical – an amazing home, but best of all, he had a family again.

Acknowledgements

 

 

There are many people that helped Alfie Bloom all the way from idea to print and I am forever grateful for their support, feedback and cups of tea. I'd like to take this opportunity to say thanks to:

Mum and Dad, you showed me new worlds within the pages of books and encouraged me to create my own. Thirty-four years later, here it is!

Those who visited Hexbridge first, Chris, James, Rebecca, Anoushka, Somduth, Elisabeth, Madeleine, you did a wonderful job of tidying the place up for everyone else.

Rhianna, for providing me with the most important writerly tomes, and for teaching me the secret author fistbump.

Carol Anne, Andy and Lucy, without our day trip to Castell Coch the idea for this book might never have taken hold.

Ben and Helen, for believing in Alfie all the way.

 

Gabrielle Kent has worked in and around the games industry since 1997 and currently lectures in Computer Games Development at Teesside University. As well as teaching, she directs Animex, the UK's largest Games and Animation Festival. In 2015 she received games magazine MCV's Woman of the Year Award. She loves writing just as much as games and dreams of one day writing books in the library of her very own castle.
Alfie Bloom and the Secrets of Hexbridge Castle
is her first novel.

 

gabriellekent.com

@GabrielleKent

 

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First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd, 2015

This electronic edition published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd, 2015

 

Text copyright © Gabrielle Kent, 2015

 

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eISBN 978 1407 15707 8

 

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