Floods 3 (4 page)

As people rushed to and fro with fire hoses and sticking plasters, Vessel led the Queen on George's back and the newlyweds through the back streets towards the forest.

‘My true and faithful friend, I must leave
you now,' said Mordonna to Leach, who had been waiting patiently on top of the castle wall for his mistress to reappear from the drains. ‘The Himalayas are no place for a vulture with a bad neck.'

‘Oh mistress, I cannot bear to see you go,' croaked the old bird. ‘Without you to live for, I shall sit in a high tree and eat dead things.'

‘Umm, you do that already, actually,' said Mordonna.

‘So I do,' said Leach, feeling instantly better.

‘Listen, old bird,' said Vessel. ‘Make your way to Patagonia. All witches and wizards pass through Patagonia at least once in their life, and so it must be that we will be there one day.'

‘Yes, my friend,' said Mordonna. ‘To stay here would be bad for your health. I fear my father would teach you scuba diving in Lake Tarnish.'

The vulture flew back into town to find someone who could tell him what a Patagonia was, and the rest of the party walked into the forest.

‘Before we leave our beloved Transylvania Waters, my lady, we must go and consult the Sheman. Such a dangerous journey as ours needs all the help it can get,' said Vessel.

‘True, my wise friend,' said the Queen. ‘The Sheman … it's many years since I heard that name.'

‘Don't you mean Shaman?' asked Nerlin.

‘No. A Shaman is a man. A Sheman is a woman,' the Queen explained.

‘I've never heard of her,' said Mordonna.

‘Hardly anyone has nowadays,' said the Queen. ‘King Grumpyguts made it illegal to even think about her.'

‘Why?'

‘He's jealous of anyone who's cleverer than him,' said the Queen. ‘Which is just about everyone.
Even Snortpic the toilet seat cleaner is brighter than our glorious leader.' Patting Mordonna on the shoulder, she added, ‘I thank the Lords of Darkness every day that you inherited my brains and not his.'

‘So do I, Mother. Where do we find this Sheman?' said Mordonna.

‘Up in the mountains,' said Vessel.

‘Wow,' said Nerlin, thinking it was time he added something to the conversation.

‘As you say, young master, wow,' said Vessel.

They picked their way through the forest in silence, which was only broken from time to time by George telling them he didn't like it. The lights of the town far below grew fainter and fainter until, finally, they came out above the trees onto a small plateau. Half the mountain still towered above them, glowing like a giant sapphire in the moonlight.

‘We will rest here awhile,' said Vessel, who seemed to have taken charge of things.

‘I wonder if we will ever see our homes again,'
said Nerlin. ‘Though I'm not sure if I want to see mine again.'

‘Of course we will, young master,' said Vessel. ‘Even the King cannot live forever.'

‘He's spiteful enough to have a go at it,' said the Queen.

After they had rested, Vessel led them along the foot of the sheer rock face until they reached a small group of bushes. Behind the bushes there was a narrow gap in the rocks that led into a steep gully. It was hard going as the moonlight couldn't reach into the gully and they were picking their way over fallen rocks in almost total darkness.

George didn't like it and told them so. The Queen dug her heels into him and he didn't like that either.

‘If you don't stop complaining,' said the Queen, ‘I'll strike you dumb.'

‘Typical royalty,' George muttered, ‘oppressing the masses.'

At the top of the gully there was a dark tunnel, but before they went in, Nerlin said, ‘Why don't we
roll rocks down the gully so no one can follow us?'

‘Brilliant,' said Mordonna, looking at her new husband adoringly. But Vessel held up his hand and shook his head.

‘It is, as you say, young mistress, brilliant, but there will be others who will wish to escape your father's wrath in the years to come and we cannot close the way to them. Come, the Valley of the Sages and Other Herbs is through this tunnel. There are spells that will protect us once we reach it, so we must not delay.'

‘GONE!' screamed the King. ‘What do you mean, gone?'

‘Th-th-they have f-f-f-f-f-fled, oh g-g-great one,' whimpered the Chancellor as gently as possible from inside his protective lead suit. ‘It seems that your p-p-plan was not as effective as you might have hoped, sire.'

‘Fetch the Queen,' the King ordered.

‘Sh-sh-she has gone too, sire.'

‘Don't be ridiculous,' said the King, calming down a bit. ‘She can't have gone. She wouldn't leave me. Find her manservant – that creepy Vessel – and his stupid bird. He'll know where she is.'

But the more he spoke, the weaker his voice got as he realised the Queen wouldn't think twice about leaving him. In fact, she had probably thought about it a lot more times than twice, and really, it was quite amazing she hadn't gone a long time ago.

‘I have had another look already, sire, and another-another look. Vessel and Parsnip are gone, and so is George-The-Donkey-Formerly-Known-As-Prince-Kevin-Of-Assisi.'

For the first time in his life the King was at a loss for words. When bad stuff happened he usually exploded, chopped a few people's heads off, laughed at a few whippets and did a mean magic trick that made everyone in the room's tights go all baggy and lumpy. After that he usually felt better. But now he was speechless.

‘They were seen, sire,' said the Chancellor. ‘They went into the forest.'

‘Well, burn the forest to the ground,' said the King.

‘Er … sire, with most humble respect, I don't
think that's possible.' The Chancellor knew there was no way the forest would ever catch fire, not even with a whole pile of newspapers and firelighters and lightning, because the weather in Transylvania Waters was always damp. The air was filled with a drizzle that soaked everything right through without ever raining properly.
¹⁷
Most of the population had mould growing in every nook and cranny of their bodies.
¹⁸

Suspecting that his previous statement could make him vulnerable to a brief bout of water-skiing, the Chancellor came up with an alternative. ‘Might I suggest, sire, that you employ the best spies in the kingdom to find them instead?'

‘I've just thought of the most brilliant plan,' said the King. ‘Find me the names of the best spies in the kingdom.'

‘I have the directory right here, sire,' said the Chancellor smoothly. ‘It seems that Cliché, Stain & Ooze are the best in the land.'

‘Prove it,' said the King.

The Chancellor read the King the three spies' profiles from the directory. Although they were useless, Cliché, Stain and Ooze were three of the meanest, most devious spies in a country full of useless, mean, devious spies. Cliché had sold his own grandmother for three groats to buy a rock to
throw at his grandfather. Stain had sold someone else's grandmother for two groats to buy some dust to rub in his mother's eyes, and Ooze had eaten Cliché's grandmother and Stain's mother and then framed his own father for the crime. There had been a fourth partner – Patricia – but what happened to him is far too terrible to write about. There was a dreadful smell in the street for several weeks after he vanished and Cliché, Stain and Ooze all had to have their teeth re-sharpened.

‘They sound perfect. Take me to them immediately,' said the King.

Although there were only seven buildings in the street, the narrow dead-end lane where the spies had their offices was called The Street of A Thousand Doors. It was no more than twenty-three metres long, and was overshadowed by leaning walls that never let the sun reach in. It was the sort of street you only went to if you had a reason, not the sort of street that a casual visitor would ever visit. This was the street where the very best spies had their offices.

The Chancellor checked the address in the spy directory then walked up The Street of A Thousand Doors, pondering the fact that there weren't really that many doors. He waited for the King to buy a freshly roasted lizard from a greasy street vendor, then knocked on a narrow door at the very end of the street, hidden in a dark corner behind a dustbin.

was scratched into the red mould that crawled slowly down the woodwork.

The door opened and the two men were ushered into the spies' office. It was exactly like every private eye's office in those old-fashioned black and white movies. Everything – the floor, the walls, the furniture and the three spies – was brown and shiny and covered in sticky dust and dead flies. Each spy sat at a desk piled high with unpaid bills. Each was pretending to be very busy, but if you looked closely you could see there was a network of cobwebs over everything and a damp smell that said they hadn't had a customer for months. One feeble light bulb cast a gloomy glow that couldn't even be bothered to reach the corners of the room.

While the King sucked the insides out of his lizard, the Chancellor told the three spies their mission.

‘His majesty would like his daughter back totally unharmed and his wife slightly unharmed. However, you are free to kill Nerlin and the Queen's treacherous servant,' he said. ‘And if you kill the Sheman too, there will be a bonus.'

‘And the donkey?' Stain asked.

‘You are free to eat it,' said the Chancellor. ‘In fact, I have an excellent donkey cookbook you can borrow.'

‘What about our fee?' said Ooze.

‘What about it?' said the King, who was flat broke. ‘Am I not your King? Could you doubt that you would not get your fee? Complete this mission and you will have wealth beyond your wildest dreams.'

‘Sire, there is absolutely
nothing
beyond my wildest dreams,' said Cliché. ‘They are at the very limits of your imagination.'

‘So could we have a deposit?' Stain asked. ‘We'll have expenses to meet.'

‘Yes, well, of course, exactly,' said the King. ‘As soon as you get back, I will give you a deposit.'

‘But sire, it's standard practice to get a deposit
before
we start,' said Ooze.

‘Standard practice?' said the King. ‘The King is the one who decides what is standard practice. Off you go now. There is no time to lose. The Chancellor and I will lock up for you.'

Cliché, Stain and Ooze knew the King's reputation and realised they were getting very close to the limit of the King's patience. They picked up their spying equipment and set off for the forest.

‘Did you bring my metal detector?' said the King after the spies were out of sight.

‘Yes, sire,' said the Chancellor.

‘Switch it to gold detecting and search the place.'

Ten minutes later, the King was looking quite pleased with himself. ‘Seven hundred and fifty-three gold sovereigns. Not bad,' he said. ‘Now run after the spies and give them three sovereigns as their deposit. I'm off to the garden gnome shop.'