Authors: Barclay Baker
Throwing the brief case into the car, he started the engine. The gravel spurted up as the car turned in the driveway, wheels spinning. He drove at speed out into the street. Time was short. He had to reach Roslyn by 8 o’clock. His instinct was to drive increasingly faster but he forced himself to stick to thirty miles an hour. It wouldn’t help Wendy if he was arrested for breaking the speed limit. In good time, he reached the car park of the Roslyn Institute, switched off the lights and waited to see what would happen next.
A dark van glided into the space next to him. His heart was thumping. He heard the door slide open and saw two men jump out and approach his car. The taller figure was over six feet, with broad shoulders and exceedingly long arms. A bushy beard did nothing to hide his scowl. The shorter of the two was heavy set and walked with a rolling gait. A menacing smile played around his lips as he rapped on the side window; John wound it down.
‘Is Wendy here?’ he started to ask, but was cut off when a massive hand reached in and grabbed him by the throat.
‘Just you listen, and listen good,’ his attacker snarled. ‘We have your girl and you are going to do exactly as we say. Understand?’
John Dante nodded his head nervously. ‘But what do you want from me?’ He was shaking and getting short of breath because of the vice like grip the man had on his throat.
‘You’re going to get out of the car. Then we are going into the lab to collect some things. You have a lot to accomplish before we take you to where your daughter is. I’m going to let go now and there’s to be no funny business. All right?’
The professor nodded again and the hand released him. He got out, his tall but slight frame dwarfed by the sheer bulk of the two men standing next to him.
‘I need my notes.’ The professor indicated the brief case on the passenger seat. One of the men leaned in, grabbed it, and then threw it into the van.
‘Right let’s get inside and collect everything you’re going to need for this job. Here, give us a hand to carry these boxes.’
Professor Dante glanced at the overhead security cameras. All of this would be recorded on CCTV but nobody was likely to look at the film until it was too late to help him. For a brief moment he considered allowing the burglar alarms to go off but quickly realised if his captors’ plans failed at this stage the person most in danger was Wendy. No, he mustn’t do anything without careful thought. Arms full of cardboard boxes, he and the kidnappers sneaked over to the back door of the Roslyn Institute and entered his workplace. The building was deserted. Balancing the boxes against the wall he turned off the burglar alarms. Reaching his research laboratory he hit a switch that activated the blackout screens at the windows and switched on the lights, safe in the knowledge that no one would know they were there.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘are you going to tell me what this is all about?’ He turned towards his daughter’s abductors as they set down the boxes that had been obscuring their faces. His jaw dropped. The men could have stepped off the stage at the local pantomime. ‘My God, what is this? Who are you?’
Two fierce pirates pointing ancient looking pistols stared back at him. ‘We are your worst nightmare,’ snarled Skylights. ‘Load all the stuff you need to do the miracles you boast of, into these boxes. And be quick about it.’
A quarter of an hour later, John Dante was back in his car, this time with a pistol pointed at his head. ‘Follow the black van,’ said his kidnapper. ‘And don’t try any heroics if you want to see Wendy again.’
Amy took the scroll from Peter and unrolled it. The writing was old fashioned and beautiful but hard to read. Between them Amy and Shelley managed to decipher the script but the meaning remained obscure.
Fairy Dust Seeker’s Terms of Agreement
In search of Fairy Dust are thee?
‘Tis vital that you be……
Kind to foe no matter what, smarter than a sage,
Brave enough to fight through tears.
And in touch with a bygone age.
In search of Fairy Dust are thee?
‘Tis important that you have…..
Trust in all your fellow team, strength to fight each stage
Tenacity when times are tough.
And belief in a bygone age.
In search of Fairy Dust are thee?
‘Tis essential that you can…..
Pursue the goal though it seems far, find each and every page
Collect the quarry, one by one.
And believe in a bygone age.
Of trials and troubles, take heed, you must
There are dangers and demons in Fairy Dust
But if you are sure you want to proceed
A clue is here for you to read.
But first please sign
On the dotted line
…………………………………………………………………
‘What’s all that about? It sounds really ancient,’ said Shelley.
‘From a different world,’ agreed Amy.
‘Well you are in Never Land now, not Edinburgh! And fairies and fairy dust are from a different time and place. Come on girls, we have no time to lose. Sign on the line and let’s get started with the clues!’
Peter produced an old quill pen and a small bottle of ink from a pocket in his waistcoat.
‘I can’t believe this,’ said Amy shaking her head. ‘Jack has gone off with a fairy to send an email and here we are signing an ancient document with an ancient pen borrowed from Peter Pan.’
‘Nobody’ll ever believe any of this when we get home
……
if
we ever get home,’ said Shelley.
‘Oh, you will,’ said Peter. ‘It may take a little longer than we thought but you will get home. I promise.’
‘Like you promised once before?’ said Shelley, accusingly.
‘Don’t blame Peter,’ said Amy. ‘It wasn’t his fault, and he is trying to help.’
The tension of the moment was relieved when Jack returned with Tinker Bell. Amy and Shelley couldn’t help giggling at the sight of him with a real live fairy on his shoulder.
‘Quick Jack, sign the document and we can get started on the quest. It’s a bit like a treasure hunt really, and it is different every time we do it,’ said Peter, handing the scroll and the quill to Jack. Jack took the scroll, signed his name and returned it to Peter who began reading.
Ingredient Number 1.
The first ingredient you shall seek
Is found on higher ground
Beware the rocks, the fumes, the smoke
But most, the rumbling sound.
Brush up two cups, no more or less
From the north face of the mound
The yellow ochre pure and fine
Into dust you’ll pound
Then as the giant begins to wake
Search for the hole that’s round
And right there on the edge of death
The next clue can be found.
‘But what does all that mean?’ asked Amy. ‘Where do we start?’
‘I think I know,’ smiled Jack. ‘It sounds like we need to find a volcano. Wasn’t that a volcano we saw when we first landed in Never Land, Peter?’
Peter shook his head and said, ‘That was an extinct volcano. We need to go to a different one some distance from here; one that still rumbles and spits and spews lava from time to time. Follow me’.
The children had to run at full pelt to keep up with Peter, as he scrambled over enormous boulders, hurdled over tree roots, and zigzagged to avoid thorny shrubs. And that was just the start. What they weren’t aware of was the danger that was following them. Noddler and Jukes, having lost all of the stolen dust when they dropped it in the ocean, were desperately in need of fresh supplies. And the only way they could get more dust was by stealing it once again….this time from Peter and the children. They kept just far enough behind to be unnoticed but ready to pounce as soon as all the hard work of gathering the ingredients was done.
‘How much further to go?’ panted Shelley. ‘I’m exhausted. Can we slow down now?’
‘Not much further,’ answered Peter. ‘The volcano is in sight. Look up ahead.’
The children paused just long enough to lift their eyes and look ahead and all three gasped in dismay at the sight before them. Peter was right. The volcano was just a little way off but they could not believe the height of it. It seemed to go on forever, upwards into the sky and through the clouds. It had to be higher than Mount Everest. How would they ever manage to climb it? They had no equipment, no supplies, and they weren’t even properly dressed. This task was proving impossible already and they hadn’t even collected one speck of dust.
‘How long will it take us to get to the top?’ asked Amy, trying to stay positive while swallowing back tears.
‘If we had fairy dust we could do it in no time,’ smiled Peter.
‘If we had fairy dust we wouldn’t be doing it at all,’ snapped Jack.
‘Without the dust, it could take us several days, but with any luck, Rochester will be there to help us,’ answered Peter. ‘And then it should only take us a few minutes to get to the top. Getting down is another problem though,’ he teased.
‘Rochester? Who or what is Rochester?’ asked Shelley.
‘Just watch,’ said Peter.
By now the party had reached the base of the volcano. A few metres behind them Jukes and Noddler slid silently behind a rock and watched and waited. ‘There’s no need to follow them up there,’ whispered Jukes breathlessly. ‘They have to come down again eventually and when they do we can take up the chase.’ Noddler merely nodded in reply, being even more out of shape than Jukes. He collapsed on the ground, panting heavily.
Blissfully unaware of the two scoundrels watching him, Peter reached forward and picked up a shiny black rock. He rubbed it gently against his thigh as if polishing an apple and then spoke into the rock as though it were a telephone. ‘Are you at home Rochester? I need your help.’
A crack appeared in the side of the volcano, first at ground level but quickly travelling all the way up as far as they could see and into the clouds. Within an instant a second crack began to come back down the mountain and join up with the first crack. The shape that was made by the cracks was the outline of a gigantic man the size of the mountain. Silently, and without disturbing as much as a small pebble, the shape stepped out from the mountain and there he was, a giant made of rock, as flat as a pancake. He had a head without features, and arms and legs in perfect proportion to his size. He bent down and laid the backs of his stone hands on the ground.
‘This is Rochester,’ said Peter. ‘Climb aboard his hands. It’s probably best to sit down, and then you are less likely to fall off.’
Without argument, Amy, Shelley and Jack did as Peter said. It was as though they were hypnotised. Jack and the two fairies sat on the palm of Rochester’s right hand while the girls and Peter climbed onto his left. As Rochester stood up the children had the same sensation as being in a lift, only ten times greater. Amy and Shelley closed their eyes and hugged each other, too terrified to look down, while Jack clung onto the thumb of the stone giant and gazed all around in disbelief.
‘Wow, it’s like being in the great glass elevator,’ said Amy. ‘Who’ll believe any of this?’
Once he had reached his full height, Rochester was above the clouds. He carefully brought his arms up, and deposited his passengers on the top of the mountain. ‘Thank you,’ said Jack, who was the last one to step off the hand. But Rochester was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared back into the side of the volcano.
‘Glad that’s over. That was some crazy ride,’ said Shelley. ‘Wait till we tell Jody about this. Beats her skiing trip any day.’
‘Incredible!’ said Amy. ‘And so quick.’
‘Now then,’ said Peter, ‘let’s get down to business. We don’t have much time. What does the clue say?’
‘The first bit is about higher ground and I suppose this is the higher ground,’ said Jack and then it says:
‘Beware the rocks, the fumes, the smoke
But most, the rumbling sound.
Brush up two cups, no more or less
From the north face of the mound’
‘Yes listen,’ said Amy. ‘I can hear the rumbling sound. Maybe Rochester’s got an empty tummy.’ She laughed.
‘Hmmm,’ said Peter. ‘Not as simple as that I am afraid, Amy. That rumbling is the volcano waking up. We have to finish our task and get off the mountain before she blows. So let’s hurry. The north face is round the far side of the mouth.’
Peter, Tinker Bell and Duster Bell set off at a great pace once more with the poor earthly children doing their best to keep up. ‘Now is where you can be of help,’ said Peter as they came to a standstill. ‘It can take a while for one person to collect two cups of the stuff, but with four of us we should be able to do it in a few minutes.’
‘Two cups of what? And what kind of cups?’ asked Shelley. ‘And what’s that awful smell?’
‘Questions, questions, questions, so many questions, child,’ said Peter, wrinkling up his nose. ‘The smell, like rotten eggs, is sulphur. The difficult part of this task is separating the grains of the yellow ochre, which is the fairy dust ingredient, from the sulphur. They are almost the same colour. But sulphur is what gunpowder is made of so we really don’t want to mix it with fairy dust or we’ll be doing a different kind of flying. We need two large buttercups…they are for the cups of course….and a branch of yellow broom with which to brush up the special powder.’
The three children scattered in search of the items Peter had described. Jack was the first back holding a branch from the broom plant. ‘Will this do?’ he asked.
‘Perfect,’ said Peter. ‘Now go where Tinker Bell and Duster Bell go and they will show you the special grains you must sweep up. And remember no sulphur!’
Shelley and Amy returned carrying several buttercups each.
‘We only need two,’ said Peter, selecting the best formed cups and tossing the others away. ‘The rumbling is getting louder. Waste no time. Fill the cups as quick as you can and then we can look for the next clue.’
With his hands on his hips, Peter stood watching the children as they scurried around collecting the yellow powder.
‘Aren’t you going to help?’ asked Jack.
‘Haven’t I helped you enough already?’ answered Peter. ‘Besides, I am thinking. One of us has to do the thinking!’