Deep Amber (14 page)

Chapter Fourteen

The front door shut with a determined bang, and the four children were left sitting at the kitchen table in silence. No one was quite sure what to say. Cat was stunned by the idea that Albert thought she had magic. Simon, who'd always secretly hoped that he might have, was thrilled that it was actually true. But then he started thinking about the box, and wondering whether they should show it to Dora and Jem. Dora was still considering what Albert had said about the amber needing to be shut down, and worrying whether Lord Ravenglass was altogether trustworthy. And Jem was just thinking about his chances of being made a knight.

After a while, Cat made an effort to pull herself together and take charge. She turned to Jem.

“So, if you came here from… that other world,” she said, “does that mean you can do magic?”

He shook his head. “No – not a spark of it,” he said and jerked his thumb at Dora. “Dora's the one with the magic.”

Simon looked interested. “Are you?” he said. “Could you teach us?”

Dora glanced over at him. Albert was right, there was a feel of magic about Simon, bubbling under the surface.

“Maybe,” she said cautiously. “This world is a bit odd – there doesn't really seem to be much magic here at all. But there's definitely some here in this house. Have you got anything odd upstairs?” She was sure there was a buzz of magic coming from above her head – a buzz of rather agitated magic, at that.

Simon and Cat exchanged glances, then Cat nodded.

“Albert's right. We're going to have to work together… The thing is, we've got a box upstairs and we think it might have this deep amber in it that Albert was talking about. But we can't open it. Simon – go and get it, and bring it down.”

Simon jumped up and left the kitchen.
When he returned, he was carrying the wooden box in his hands, and he put it carefully in the middle of the table. As he did so, Dora was sure she heard a rather faraway voice saying crossly, “Oh, will you just get on with it!”

She looked at Jem, who had a faint grin on his face, and she felt the corner of her mouth twitch.

“You've got a ghost in there,” she said. “And it sounds a bit cross.”

“A ghost?” said Simon, looking alarmed “Really – a ghost?” He looked at Cat. “Do you think…?”

She gulped, and nodded.

He turned to Dora. “It's Great-Aunt Irene's box. And – the voice sounds very like her. I don't know how she could possibly be in there but…”

“It'll be her for sure,” said Jem. “Why haven't you let her out? Great-aunts don't usually like to be kept waiting. You need to get that box open.”

“We've been trying!” said Cat indignantly. “Nothing's worked so far. I think I know what the symbols mean, but we couldn't get it to open.”

Dora peered at the carved symbols. Three of them were clearly the instructions for a powerful opening spell. The fourth was a painted
amber jewel. She glanced across at Jem, who nodded. This must be the amber Lord Ravenglass was after. The question was, should they open it? Should they just take it straight back to Lord Ravenglass, or should they find out more about what was going on? As Dora hesitated, an imperious voice rose from the box.

“In the name of the kingdom and the Great Forest, I demand that this box be opened RIGHT NOW!”

Dora jumped. She instinctively raised her hands and said the words of the opening spell. The box burst into flames, then instantly cooled, so that frost started crackling along the edges of the carvings, and then the lid flew open, releasing what felt like a tornado.

Cat and Simon looked at each other, wide-eyed. As the wind whipped their hair round their faces and hurled random bits of newspaper across the kitchen, a stream of silvery dust shot up to the ceiling and then gently settled back down into a human shape, like fine sand filling a glass container. Finally they could see, standing on the kitchen table, the rather gaunt figure of an old lady with silver hair and a cane looking
down at them disapprovingly. Cat realised she had her mouth open, and shut it rapidly. Next to her, Simon was looking equally taken aback, but Jem and Dora seemed to think this was all quite normal.

“Out at last!” said the silvery lady, with a sigh. “It was getting very uncomfortable indeed in that wretched box!”

She bent down and clambered ungracefully off the table and then turned to survey them all.

“Well now,” she said. “Catrin and Simon. How nice. I thought it must be you, all that incompetence with the brandy. Thank goodness you seem to have found yourselves a friend who knows how to
use
magic.”

She gave them all a piercing look from her pale silvery eyes and rapped the table with her cane. Simon was startled to find that it made a very solid-sounding noise. In fact, Great-Aunt Irene was starting to look very solid all round, turning rapidly from a silvery wraith to a perfectly normal if somewhat unimpressed old lady. Although, he noted, it was still just possible to see the outline of the back door though her head.

“Well?' she said, expectantly. “Where is my
good-for-nothing son? Why on earth is there just a rabble of children here?”

“Your son?” said Cat. “Do you mean Uncle Lou?”

“Yes, of course. Louis,” said Great-Aunt Irene, looking, if possible, even more disapproving. “I thought he'd be here by now. Avoiding trouble, as usual, I see.”

“I'm not sure where he is,” said Cat. “Mum said he left years ago.”

“He did indeed,” sniffed Great-Aunt Irene. “He had a disagreement with your mother. I rather think she said she never wanted to see him again. Most awkward. So he disappeared off travelling, and it's been very difficult to get hold of him ever since. But he really ought to be back by now. He's meant to have the amber, as he very well knows.”

Simon, who had been unable to take his eyes off Great-Aunt Irene since she had appeared in front of him, suddenly remembered what else was supposed to have been in the box. He turned, to see Jem carefully lifting up an amber jewel, with an elaborate bronze clasp and length of chain attached. Cat, following his gaze, saw the amber and gasped.

The clasp was in the shape of two intertwining branches, with tiny bronze-coloured leaves, winding around the central jewel. Glowing through the bronze like a miniature sun was a deep orange-yellow stone, with darker flecks and whorls inside it that looked as if they were continuously moving. It was almost as if there was a fire deep inside the stone. In fact, Jem was blowing on his fingers as if he had scorched them, and was now very carefully holding it only by the clasp. He met Simon's eyes, and gave a wry grin.

“Looks like this is the deep amber, then,” he said. “It's a bit hot.”

“Of course it's hot, foolish boy!” said Great-Aunt Irene. “It was activated days ago. Random magical activity from young Simon here – sleeping almost right above it. It's been getting more and more unstable ever since. It was not much fun being locked in a box right on top of it, I can tell you!”

Dora looked at the amber jewel swinging from Jem's hand. She could feel that it had immensely strong power, but there was also a crackling, sparking, uncontrolled magic that surrounded the amber like a halo. It felt distinctly dangerous.

“Um, sorry, Aunt Irene,” said Cat. “But how exactly did you end up in the box with it? And how did it get activated? And what can we do to shut it down?”

Great-Aunt Irene nodded in approval. “All very sensible questions,” she said. “Maybe I'd better explain.”

She raised one eyebrow at Simon, who looked blank until she impatiently indicated a chair with her cane. Hurriedly he pulled it out, and she settled herself on it with a creaking sigh.

“Well,” she said. “First things first. The amber belongs to me, or it did while I was alive. Deep amber is always the property of an heir to the kingdom, and my family is originally from that world. When I died, it was supposed to go to my son.” She sniffed. “If there's no heir to take it immediately, the most recent holder is bound to the amber as a ghost until it can be passed on to the new heir. I didn't realise that meant literally stuck in the box with it until I came to, a few days after passing away, and found myself under the floorboards.”

Great-Aunt Irene shook her head crossly. “Anyway, I had arranged for a message to be sent
to Louis if I died, so I just settled down to wait for him. And then Simon accidentally activated the amber with his magic and opened a rift to the kingdom. No doubt all sorts of nonsense has got pulled from one side to the other by now.” She raised her eyebrows at them, and they all nodded. “I can't think why Queen Igraine hasn't used the kingdom's amber to close the rift from her side.”

“Well, we were sent to tell the palace,” said Dora. “The Druid thought they would sort it out. But the queen is a bit old, and Lord Ravenglass…” she trailed off, not sure how much to say.

“Ravenglass?” said Great-Aunt Irene sharply. “Is he in charge now? I never did trust that boy.” She gave Dora and Jem a hard stare. “He's after
this
amber, isn't he? That's why they haven't shut the rift down yet. He'll be wanting to find out where the amber is, first. I imagine he asked you two to bring it back to him.”

“No he didn't,” said Jem with an innocent expression. “He never said anything about that. He just said to take the goggles and stuff back.”

“Hmm,” was all Great-Aunt Irene said, but she still managed to make it sound as if judge, jury and court had all found Jem guilty of appalling
lying and sentenced him to life as a worm.

Simon had felt a slight shiver down his back as the name Ravenglass was mentioned. Where had he heard that name before? It made him feel cold, and on the edge of something dark… Did it have anything to do with Smith and Jones? But as he grasped for the memory, Cat's phone went off, and she flapped at everyone to keep quiet while she answered it.

It was Albert. After a few minutes, she finished the call and looked up.

“He's found Sir Bedwyr. He's broken into Sunset Court – the old people's home. Albert says can we come and help. And we should bring the sword.”

Chapter Fifteen

Sunset Court Home for the Elderly was a Victorian manor house on the outskirts of town. It had been built by a man who had made a fortune selling rubber boots, and had wanted to live like a lord, so it had turrets and a large ornamental moat.

When Sir Bedwyr had spotted it, it had been clear to him that here, at last, was a proper castle. His Quest must be to defend it from all attackers – especially those strangely hostile knights in their blue uniforms who had captured him earlier. Luckily for him, the first person he met as he marched across the lawn towards the main entrance was an imperious old lady in a wheelchair, who insisted he bowed and kissed her hand.

“I am Queen Elizabeth the First,” she said.
“I accept your fealty, good sir knight. Please join my retinue.” She had waved her hand graciously at a rather upright and well-built old man with a white handlebar moustache.

“Sorry about that,” said the man with a grin. “We humour her, you know. Are you with a theatre troop or something? Pleased to meet you, anyway – I'm Colonel Alfred Fairfax, formerly of the Guards.”

“And I am Sir Bedwyr, of Roland Castle,” said Sir Bedwyr, bowing. “I am here to help you defend the castle against your enemies. Or maybe a dragon. But probably your enemies. They may not be far behind me.”

“Dragon, eh?” said Colonel Fairfax, twirling his moustache. “That sounds fun. One of these drama groups where everyone has to get involved, is that it? Brightening up the life of the dull old folks' home?” He rubbed his hands. “Well, I'm all for that. Bit of excitement. War games, that sort of thing. I'm always telling them we need a bit more going on out here. What would you like me to do?”

Sir Bedwyr eyed the Colonel in approval. He was clearly another military man. Between the
two of them, they should get the castle set up for defence in no time.

He and Colonel Fairfax rapidly spread the word about the imminent siege of the castle, helped by Queen Elizabeth the First calling all her loyal subjects to arms. Most of the residents were under the impression that this was some elaborate game, but a few were half inclined to believe that it really was a siege, and they were being called on to defend queen and country. Whatever the truth, there was a huge level of enthusiasm for the preparations, and the Colonel started directing several residents to build a barricade across the driveway.

It was Vincent Trimbleby, however, who'd been an intelligence officer in the Second World War, who came up with the master stroke. He had grasped that the castle was about to be attacked by the police, and that they had to prevent them from taking anyone alive. He immediately set to and cut the telephone wires, and then he locked the entire management team in their meeting room on the second floor.