Deep Amber (3 page)

“Gone,” he said, with great satisfaction, and then turned to the children with a wide smile.

“Albert Jemmet,” he said, in a friendly voice. “Emergency Electrics Limited.” He pointed at a badge on his blue overalls, which had a green lightning strike above the words
Electrical Disturbances and Emergency Repairs
. “I used to look after any little problems in the house for your great-aunt. Your mum was kind enough to keep me on when you moved in.” He stuck out his hand. “At your service.”

Cat gaped at him. She felt as if nothing that had happened that morning made any sense at all, least of all this jolly, balding man in blue overalls, but she shook his hand limply, and then sat down rather hard at the kitchen table.

“How… how did you get in?” she asked.

Albert Jemmet looked a little shifty.

“Ah, well, you left the door open,” he said. “And since I was getting very high readings, I thought maybe I would just let myself in to check that everything was all right.”

Cat frowned. She had definitely shut the door, she was sure of it. But on the other hand, Albert Jemmet was an altogether friendlier intruder than Mr Smith and Mr Jones, and he seemed to have scared them off, so maybe they should be grateful.

“Have they really gone?” said Simon, looking rather pale. “The other two?”

Cat got up and peered out of the kitchen window. All she could see was the bare, wintry garden, with its straggly lawn, overgrown pond, and rather forlorn-looking bare trees. There was no one in sight.

“They've gone,” she said to Simon, who gave a great sigh of relief. He looked across at Albert Jemmet, who gave him a friendly grin.

“Well, young lady,” Albert said, turning to Cat. “A cup of tea would be extremely nice, if you could spare the hot water.”

Cat hesitated. Albert Jemmet was a complete stranger, even if he did say he'd known Great-Aunt Irene. Entertaining complete strangers at the kitchen table when Mum was away was not on the list of permitted activities.

“Could we see some proof of identity?” she said, politely.

“Of course,” said Albert Jemmet, looking business-like, and he handed over a card and a number of leaflets.
Emergency Electrics Ltd
had a website, an email address, and a phone number, as well as a motto:
Solving your emergencies with
emergency solutions
. Albert Jemmet was listed on his business card as Senior Emergency Call-out Operative.

“Actually,” he said, tapping the card, “there's only me. But people like to feel you're part of a bigger organisation.”

Cat raised her eyebrows at Simon. He nodded. Albert Jemmet seemed to be quite genuine.

“Well, then, a cup of tea,” Cat said briskly. “How do you have it?”

“Milk, six sugars please,” said Albert Jemmet, and patted his large stomach with a grin. “I've cut back. Used to be twelve.”

As Cat made the tea, Albert Jemmet rummaged in an old canvas bag he had brought with him. Out of it came various odd mechanical devices, which he proceeded to tap, twiddle and peer at while pointing them in different directions around the room. Simon noticed that Albert seemed especially keen to point them down at the table, right in the direction of the sword on his knees, which he could feel tingling.

“My own inventions, mostly,” he said, seeing Simon watching him. “Very delicate. Attuned to particular sorts of electrical energy.”

He put a strange blue monocle in his right eye and took a quick glance at the table before turning his attention to the light bulb overhead.

“Ah… hmm,” he said, and took the monocle out of his eye. Cat handed him a mug of tea, and he took a great slurp of it with evident enjoyment.

“Lovely,” he said, with a sigh, and then looked seriously at Simon.

“Well then. Very clear case of electrical disturbance here. Displacing objects, attracting the likes of Smith and Jones. I'd say you're very lucky I happened to be in the neighbourhood.”

“Who are they – those other two? Smith and Jones?” asked Simon. Albert looked grim.

“Rival outfit,” he said. “I wouldn't have much to do with them if I were you. Nasty creatures. Best not to let them in at all.”

“I didn't have any choice,” said Cat indignantly. “They just pushed in. Rather… well… rather like
you
, Mr Jemmet.”

Albert Jemmet grinned, and didn't seem in the least bit abashed.

“Call me Albert,” he said. “No need to be formal.” He nodded at them both cheerily, then drained his tea and pushed his chair back.
“Well, I must be getting on. But, before I go, I wonder if you've had any… odd things appearing in the house? Anything – well, anything that shouldn't be here. Doesn't belong. If I'm going to fix your little problem, I'd really need to see them… do a few more tests.”

Simon looked up, his dark watchful eyes meeting Albert Jemmet's shrewd blue ones.

“No,” he said. “There hasn't been anything.”

There was a stillness in the kitchen, and then Albert shrugged, and laughed.

“Well, there we are, then. But I'll leave you my card, in case. You can contact me on my mobile – day or night… Especially night,” he added, after a pause.

He gathered up his canvas bag and bustled out of the kitchen. “I'll let myself out,” he called cheerily from the hall, and then the children heard the door slam shut.

Silence settled on the house. Cat felt stunned by the morning's events. She looked at Simon, one eyebrow raised, and he brought the sword out from under the table. He weighed it in his hands, and then put it down carefully in front of her.

“Do you think we should have shown it to him?” said Cat. “He said anything odd, that doesn't belong… Is the sword something to do with the radiation they were measuring? Do you think it's dangerous?”

Simon shook his head. “I don't know about radiation, but I'm pretty sure it's not dangerous. It doesn't
feel
dangerous anyway. It feels… friendly, somehow.”

They both looked at the long, shining blade on the kitchen table, utterly real and yet utterly out of place. Cat felt a slight shiver down her spine. When she was younger, she had longed for magic to be real. She and Simon had played endless games of make-believe, trying to find hidden doors to another world, or pretending to turn themselves invisible. But however many times they'd rubbed crystals or shut themselves in wardrobes, they'd never succeeded in making anything the least bit out of the ordinary happen. And now, here was an ancient broadsword sitting in the middle of the table, apparently arrived from nowhere.

She shook her head, as if to clear water out of her ears. There was bound to be an ordinary explanation.

“It's Mum's, I bet,” she said, firmly. “I must have just missed it when I came downstairs.”

“Maybe…” said Simon, but he was certain the sword had nothing to do with Mum. It was odd, and out of place, and yet there was also something about it… something that Simon almost recognised.

As his fingers ran along the shining length of the sword, he suddenly noticed that the kitchen table was emptier than it should have been.

“Cat?” he said, annoyed. “Have you taken my DS?”

Chapter Three

Jem was not entirely happy about having to accompany Dora on the journey to the city. He had various bits of mischief planned for the Summer Fair, and the ongoing feud between the castle servant boys and the castle squires was reaching a critical stage. Without Jem, the plan to steal all the squires' undergarments and hang them on a line over the battlements was not going to happen. But on the other hand, he would be going to the palace. None of the other servant boys had even been to the city, never mind visited Queen Igraine's court, so Jem was looking forward to lording it over everyone when he returned. Even better, it seemed they were going to take the short cut, straight through the Great Forest, and that meant he might even get to meet
one of the mysterious forest folk who were said to live there. The only drawback, as far as Jem could see, was having to make the trip with the unutterably wet apprentice witch, Dora.

Dora herself felt pretty much the same way about having to have Jem along. When she'd first arrived at Roland Castle, six months ago, she had found everything utterly overwhelming. She was never quite sure what to say, or how to behave – who was important and who wasn't. But out of everyone at the castle, Jem had probably been the hardest to work out – and the most annoying. He was supposed to be a kitchen boy, but he had spent most of his time since he could walk hanging about in the stables, or practising archery, or sword fighting. When he wasn't stealing food, fighting, or leading the other servant boys in an all-out battle with the squires, he was out hunting with someone else's hawk.

No one seemed to be able to control him, except occasionally Sir Mortimer Roland, the lord of the castle. Nobody knew who Jem's father had been, and his mother had given up trying to discipline him at the age of four, when he had flooded the whole castle by stuffing three fat
hens down the main drain. And then just a few months ago he'd set the east wing of the castle on fire after hatching six red dragons down in the stables. A couple of the baby dragons were still hanging around the castle, convinced Jem was their mother.

“Why Jem?” she complained to Lizzie while she packed her bags. “Of all the people the Druid could have chosen! He's bound to get us into trouble, or upset someone important, and we'll be marched back to the castle in disgrace.”

“I'm sure it will be fine,” said Lizzie, soothingly. “He's fourteen, and very good with a sword, and he's clever. You won't get tricked out of your money or robbed with Jem there. Plus he knows all the roads between here and the forest. He spent all last summer helping Old Tom take the goats to market.”

“Until that time he smuggled one of them into Lady Alys's chambers and it ate all her dresses,” Dora pointed out. She sighed. That was exactly the sort of trick Jem was famous for, and exactly why she didn't want him along. He'd spend the whole time playing tricks on her, she just knew it.

Dora gathered up her travelling bags reluctantly,
gave Lizzie a hug, and went to meet Jem at the castle gates. He was swaggering around, whistling loudly and looking like he'd been waiting all day. Sol the butcher's boy was there with him, along with Violet and her bunch of girly friends, making eyes at Jem and giggling at everything he said.

Dora put on her blankest expression as she walked towards the group. But luckily, just as she got there, Sir Mortimer arrived and ordered all the onlookers to get on with their duties.

“The Druid's been called away,” he said. “Fire at the mill. He asked me to see you both off and make sure you had everything you needed.”

Dora's heart sank. The Druid had already shown her the magic she needed to get into the forest, but she'd still been hoping to see him for some last-minute advice and encouragement before she left. Besides, Sir Mortimer was the lord of the castle, and always made her feel horribly nervous.

“It's the queen's nephew, Lord Ravenglass, you need to take the objects to,” Sir Mortimer said, looking sternly at them both. “He pretty much runs things now, I've heard. You'll need this letter of introduction.” He tucked a piece of parchment
inside Jem's pack. “Keep it safe, they won't let you in without it! And here's five silver coins – Dora, best to trust you with these, I think – should see you there and back. Have you got the goggling glasses safe? And the picture box?”

Dora nodded, and patted her pack.

Jem coughed, importantly.

“There's a new one, too,” he said, looking pleased with himself. “
I
found it this morning.”

He held up a smooth, shiny object, a little bit like the camera but flatter, and a bright red colour, like the ripest strawberries. Then, with a flourish, he opened it out. It opened like a book, but one with thick covers and no pages. Inside was another small window like the camera, and a number of strange buttons.

“Another one?” said Sir Mortimer, looking troubled. “And you found it this morning? The Druid ought to see this…”

“Yes,” said Jem. “Or we could just take it along with the others? I mean, we're only supposed to take them to the palace. We don't need to know what they are.”

It was true, they didn't, but Dora felt a little uneasy. She tried to think what the Druid had
said, about the other worlds. She had a feeling that if two objects from the same place was odd, three must be even more so.

Sir Mortimer hesitated, but then shrugged, and clapped them both on the back. “Well, there's nothing for it. There's a cart to Bridbury waiting outside to give you a lift, and if you don't leave now, you won't get to the Great Forest before dark.”

He shepherded them outside the castle gates and towards the cart, which was full of noisy sheep being transported to market, then raised his hand in farewell.