Don caught sight of her face. ‘Perhaps we could save it. If we can get some Spidertwine—’
But Turpin shook her head. ‘No. Is done now. Beyond repair.’
Don nodded and moved to Solomon’s side. ‘Now we just need to take care of Solomon to give ourselves a head start.’ He stooped and lifted the sorcerer under the arms. ‘Hold the cage door open for me . . .’
Slowly, and as Solomon began to stir, Don dragged him across the floor and bundled him into the cage, then locked it and pocketed the key.
‘What . . .?’ Solomon’s eyes opened behind his shattered spectacles. ‘What are you doing? Don? Why am I in this cage?’
Don didn’t answer. Instead, he scooped Ratty into his arms. ‘Put that down,’ he said, trying to prise the hourglass from the little boy’s hands, but Ratty held on.
‘No, we have to take it with us or the man will remember,’ he said in a small voice.
Don’s fingers loosened on the hourglass. ‘The memory is in this?’
Ratty nodded.
‘We must hide it,’ Turpin hissed. ‘Somewhere it can never be found.’
‘All right.’ Don shooed Turpin in front of him, casting a fearful glance at Solomon, then at Morghul who had retreated to the shadows, still confused. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Wait!’ Solomon shouted. ‘Where are you going? And what are you doing with my hourglass? Bring it back! Return it, I say!’
But his words went unheard, for he was alone.
The vision ended and Tanya blinked, dazed. She saw that Don was watching her closely. Turpin, however, was oblivious, still wrapped up in exchanging insults with the tree.
‘Turpin could destroy you with a single match!’ she was yelling.
‘Huh! Says you, a measly flea,’ the tree shot back. ‘A squirt, a pest! No “match” for me!’
‘You saw, didn’t you?’ Don asked. ‘You saw the memory.’
‘I didn’t mean to,’ said Tanya. ‘It just . . .’
‘It’s all right,’ said Don. ‘I know. If you touch an object for too long, it overpowers you. Goodness knows I’ve done it myself enough times over the years, with things Henry left lying around.’ He paused. ‘You understand now, don’t you? How he got his ability.’
‘I think so,’ said Tanya. ‘It happened when Solomon did the ritual. When he took Ratty’s memory of Morghul, somehow Ratty became able to take memories from other people.’
‘Yes.’ Don gazed at the hourglass. ‘I think it was partly to do with being separated from Morghul, and being forced to forget him, when he was such a big part of Henry’s imagination. But also I think . . .’ He hesitated. ‘I think it was partly to do with Turpin sacrificing her magic to sever the bond between them. I think some, or maybe even all, of her magic was absorbed by Henry. It did something to him and somehow he knew it instinctively.’
‘And so it really did cost you all something,’ Tanya realised. ‘Turpin lost her magic, and you and Ratty lost your freedom. All these years you’ve been running and hiding.’
‘And all these years I should have known that running and hiding would never solve the problem,’ Don said. ‘Now Henry’s gone and it’s all my fault.’
‘But we’ll get him back,’ said Tanya. ‘We’ll find him . . .’ She trailed off. ‘Wait, how do we even know where to go? Where Solomon is keeping him?’
‘We don’t,’ said Don. ‘Which is why we have to let Solomon come to us. And it’s only a matter of time before he will.’
‘Unless . . .’ said Tanya. She chewed her lip, thinking. ‘Unless we bring Ratty here.’
Don shook his head. ‘How?’
‘Yes, how?’ Turpin demanded, her argument with the tree forgotten.
‘Because . . .’ Tanya stared at the tree. It raised a mossy eyebrow. ‘I haven’t used my wish yet.’ Her mind raced, along with her heart. A lump had risen in her throat and she swallowed it away. ‘I’m so silly. All this time, I could have used my wish to bring Ratty back to us, but I didn’t think of it. I was too . . . too selfish.’ She fell silent, thinking of her parents, and her plan to wish them back together. Apart from wishing for the fairies to leave her alone, it was the only thing she had ever really wanted.
‘No,’ Don said sadly. ‘Wishing Henry back to us wouldn’t solve anything, not really. We’d still have to hide and live in fear. It’s time that stopped and Solomon is dealt with once and for all. Besides, your wish should be your own. It’s not selfish to want something for yourself. It would be wrong of me to let you, especially when you’ve already done so much.’
‘That’s just it, though,’ said Tanya. ‘It is a selfish wish. It’s completely selfish and wouldn’t change anything. I was going to wish for my dad to come home. But, even if he did, everything would be the same as before. The arguments, the unhappiness. None of that would change. So now I don’t know what to wish any more. All I know is that I want to help Ratty.’
Don’s eyes glistened with tears. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure,’ she said. ‘And if I can’t wish him back to us then the only other way is to wish us to him.’
22
Tempus Fugit
THE WISHING TREE LOOKED FROM TANYA to Don and then back again.
‘Finally, Miss Fussy. You have a wish for me?’ it said. ‘Then speak it loud or hang it up so I can make it be.’
‘Just a minute,’ said Tanya. ‘There are a few things I’d like to check before I say the words.’
The tree rolled its eyes. ‘Here we go. I might have known with you there’d be a snag. Rules and regulations – could there be a bigger drag?’
Tanya put her hands on her hips. ‘You’re the one who warned me to be careful what I wished for, so I’m doing just that. Firstly, I want to know if a return journey is possible. And secondly, can I decide exactly when we leave and when we come back?’ She looked up at the sky. It was now late afternoon; Don would not be able to take the potion until the moon was visible, and that was several hours away. Worryingly, there were a number of dark clouds looming over the castle.
‘A cheeky wish, but just this once I’ll do a return ticket,’ the tree replied. ‘Though only if the final stop is here in Spinney Wicket.’
‘That’s fair enough,’ said Tanya. ‘What about the timings?’
‘After wishing, take a twig and keep it safe with you. Once you’re ready to depart, just snap it clean in two. When you want to come back here, you make those two twigs four, and Spinney Wicket is the place you’ll find yourself once more.’
The tree lowered a branch towards her and Tanya took a twig in her fingers hesitantly. ‘Are you sure this won’t hurt?’
‘If it does, let Turpin do it,’ Turpin muttered under her breath.
‘It’s just a tickle, not a pain,’ said the tree. ‘I’m sure to grow it back again.’
Tanya broke off a twig that was around the size of her hand and carefully stashed it in the rucksack. ‘One last thing. If it’s a certain person we want to be taken to, rather than a place, how do we know you’ll get it right?’
‘It’s not the tree who gets it wrong, but you who makes a mess,’ said the tree. ‘Do you have an object that this person once possessed?’
Tanya looked at Turpin. ‘I don’t have anything of Ratty’s, apart from the iron nail he gave me which I don’t really think counts. Do you?’
Turpin shook her head. It was no use asking Don, of course. He had no possessions with him at all.
‘We could go to the van,’ Don said. ‘But it’s a risk. Solomon or Morghul could be lying in wait. If we want the element of surprise on our side, then we have to find them before they find us.’
‘Wait . . .’ said Tanya. ‘We have the hourglass. That belongs to Solomon and, even if he’s not with Ratty when we arrive, he’s bound to lead us to him.’
‘Of course!’ said Don. He looked relieved, then glum. ‘I think this toad lark is addling my brain. I’m getting slower and stupider by the day.’
Turpi
n patted him on the head, with a look that said she plainly agreed.
Tanya took a step towards the tree. ‘I’m ready to make my wish now.’
‘About time, too,’ the tree said lazily. ‘I’ve never known someone to dawdle so. Make it quick, I’m due a nap. Now wish and off you go.’
‘Charming,’ said Tanya. She took a breath, setting the words out in her mind. ‘I wish for us to be taken to the owner of this hourglass and brought back again, both at the moments I choose.’
‘As you wished it will be done.’ The tree yawned. ‘I hope the next wish is more fun.’
‘Well, sorry to disappoint you,’ said Tanya. She put the hourglass in her rucksack, preparing to leave. ‘But thank you, all the same.’
The tree’s only response was a little snore.
Tanya looked at the sky again. The clouds had grown heavier over the castle and were reaching towards the sun. ‘Come on,’ she said to Turpin and Don. ‘Let’s go back to the cottage. All we can do now is wait for nightfall.’
Back at Hawthorn Cottage, the hours crawled by as they waited for sundown. While Don repeatedly checked on the caterpillar’s progress in the spell jar, Tanya prepared a simple meal of pasta for herself and Turpin, and found some more creepy-crawlies for Don to eat. Thankfully, she told herself, this should be the last time.
Meanwhile, Turpin amused herself by ransacking Mrs Fairchild’s make-up bag. By the time Tanya realised what she had done, Turpin had not only smeared her own face to resemble that of a clown’s, but had also turned her attention to the sleeping figures. Not even the Mizhog had been spared.
‘Wipe that off now!’ Tanya scolded, collecting her mother’s make-up and putting it out of reach. Turpin did as she was told, but smirked all the while.
Finally, darkness fell outside. Yet, as the three of them gathered by the window to watch for the moon, Tanya’s fears were confirmed, for the sky was thick with cloud with only the faintest of glows hinting at where the moon lay hidden behind them.
‘Now what?’ said Turpin. She flicked the spell jar irritably. The caterpillar, which had been crawling up the side, fell to the bottom. Sure enough, the rest of the jar was empty with no trace of the mixture in sight.
Tanya pointed. ‘Look. There’s a break in the cloud over there. It looks like it’ll reach the moon in the next few minutes.’
They watched anxiously as the gap floated nearer. It was maddeningly slow, changing shape as it approached.
‘It’s getting narrower!’ said Don. ‘It’s going to miss it!’
For a moment, Tanya feared he was right, but at the last second the break widened once more to reveal a brilliant sliver of silver in the sky. ‘Quickly, open the jar,’ she said. ‘And remember not to chew!’
Turpin took off the lid with barely enough time to move her hand before Don’s tongue shot out, so quickly that none of them saw the caterpillar disappear.
‘Look for a star,’ Tanya said, but it was too late. The moon vanished, swallowed by the cloud once more. She searched the sky in vain. ‘I don’t see any more gaps.’
‘Then what shall we do?’ Don asked. ‘The potion’s only good for one night. What if a star never appears?’
‘One has to sooner or later,’ said Tanya. ‘We’ll just have to keep watch for it. But until then I think we should just go.’
‘Go?’ Don croaked. ‘Now? But what good am I as a toad? Solomon will laugh in my face.’
‘Not if he doesn’t see you at first,’ said Tanya. She thought quickly. ‘It could even give us an advantage, you being a toad.’
‘How?’
‘Because if it’s just me and Turpin he’ll be less worried. He doesn’t know the three of us are together. Even if Morghul saw us at the fairground today, he would only have seen Turpin and me because you were hidden in the rucksack. And with you being that size it’ll be easier for you to sneak away if you have to, until the right moment comes when you can transform.’
‘Is a good plan,’ said Turpin.
Don looked unconvinced, but did not argue. ‘All right,’ he said reluctantly.
Tanya helped Don into the pocket of the rucksack, then checked its contents one last time. The Cornish brownie must have tired itself out, for it lay sleeping in the bottom of its jar. Tanya slipped the iron nail into her pocket. Her pulse had begun to race. ‘Oh, I almost forgot.’ She sat down and took her shoes off, quickly turning her socks inside out. ‘Right, I’m ready.’
‘Remember that the protection will only work against fairies if they try to use magic,’ Don warned. ‘Solomon can still harm you in other ways and so can Morghul. And . . .’ He paused, glancing at Oberon. ‘Must you bring the dog?’
‘Of course,’ said Tanya. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘Well, he’s not exactly known for his bravery, is he?’ Don scoffed. ‘He was even afraid of the Wishing Tree.’
‘He wasn’t afraid,’ Tanya bluffed. She rested a protective hand on Oberon’s head. ‘He was just . . . confused. He’s as brave as a lion when he needs to be.’
Don sniffed and began to say something else, but Tanya zipped the pocket shut and hoisted the rucksack on to her back a little more vigorously than usual. She knelt again and put a hand on Oberon’s collar. ‘Turpin, hold on to me,’ she said. Turpin dutifully hopped up on to her shoulder. With her free hand, Tanya broke the twig in two. There was a crisp snap that sounded unnaturally loud, and a rush of freezing air whooshed past Tanya’s face, forcing her eyes closed.
When she opened them again, the cottage was gone. Instead, she found herself on a busy street, where people jostled past, knocking into her and tutting. She toppled, caught off balance, then managed to right herself and darted quickly to the side of the pavement. Though it was dark, the street was more brightly lit than most and full of noise. She stared around, trying to get her bearings.
Across the street people queued outside a huge, grand theatre. Either side of it, restaurants and pubs heaved with people and noise. The air smelled stale and familiar, and then Tanya spotted something unmistakable: a red double-decker bus.
‘What is this place?’ Turpin said in obvious disgust. She gagged. ‘Iron, iron everywhere. It stinks.’
‘We’re in London,’ said Tanya. ‘Though I’m not sure which part.’
‘Well, it stinks!’ Turpin lifted her foot and examined the underside of it in a temper. A stringy glob of chewing gum stretched from her sole to the pavement. ‘London stinks!’
‘London is my home,’ said Tanya softly. ‘And I happen to quite like it.’
There was a sharp prod through the rucksack as Don poked her impatiently. ‘Never mind that. Where’s Solomon?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘There are so many people, it’s hard to see them all.’ She glanced up at the sky. ‘And it’s just as cloudy here as it was in Spinney Wicket.’
‘Great. Wonderful,’ Don retorted. ‘I’m doomed to remain as a toad, and that blasted tree has muddled things up good and proper.’
Tanya leaned into the wall. Something must have gone wrong with her wish, it was the only explanation, and, to top it all off, she was attracting curious glances from some of the passers-by.
‘You lost, kid?’ a ruddy-faced man asked. He staggered slightly and a strong smell of beer wafted off his clothes.
‘No, just waiting for my dad,’ Tanya lied.
The man suppressed a burp and moved on, knocking into a harassed-looking figure carrying a battered suitcase who was coming in the opposite direction. Tanya was just on the verge of looking away when she spotted something: a glimpse of grizzled hair flying out from beneath the dark hood. The figure gave an angry growl at the man, then turned swiftly into a dark little side street.
Instinctively, Tanya began to follow.
‘Where are we going?’ Turpin asked, still trying to extract herself from the chewing gum.
‘I think we just found Solomon,’ Tanya said in a low voice.
There were fewer people on the side street, w
hich consisted largely of shops interspersed with one or two latenight cafés. The figure stopped up ahead, fumbling in a shop entrance. Tanya slid into a nearby doorway, tugging Oberon and Turpin in with her. She listened hard and heard a creak as the door opened, then closed after the figure slipped through it.
Tanya emerged from her hiding place and approached the shop into which the figure had vanished. Through a small glass pane in the door she could just make out a dim light coming from the back of the shop, but the windows either side were dark, and a sign hanging up said CLOSED.
‘Tempus Fugit,’ Tanya read from the sign jutting out of the wall. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It’s Latin,’ Don announced. ‘It means “time flies”.’
‘Time flies,’ Tanya repeated. She peered into the window at a cluttered display of antique watches and an old grandfather clock. ‘But why would Solomon come here?’ she wondered. ‘Perhaps I was mistaken and it wasn’t him.’ She went to move away, but a squeak from Turpin stopped her.
‘Look,’ the fairy hissed, her nose pressed to the glass of the second window. ‘Look!’
In amongst an equally jumbled display of clocks and watches, a cluster of hourglasses sat in one corner of the window. They were various shapes, sizes and colours, some simply designed while others were more intricate.
‘Hourglasses,’ Tanya whispered. ‘Of course. Solomon knew Ratty had taken the hourglass, so if he was trying to track it down this is exactly the sort of place he’d come looking for it.’
Don poked his head out of the pocket and examined the sky. It was still full of cloud, with no stars in sight. ‘Be careful.’
Tanya tested the door, but it had shut firmly.
‘I wonder if there’s a back way,’ she said.
‘No need for a back way.’ Turpin elbowed her aside and dug something out of her sleeve – a plastic hairpin, probably stolen from Tanya’s mother’s make-up bag. She inserted it into the lock. With a jiggle and a click, the door was open.
‘You’re far too good at that,’ said Tanya, half admiringly and half appalled.