Read The Bamboozling of Bazalob and The Flying Shoes Page 3

Gingali

  Bruised, the children get up without a sound and approach the tortoiseshell shining under the moon. Derry goes to one side of the shell, Jude to the other. Together they heave, wondering why the shell should come off at all; surely it is part of Gingali. But, as Mikono said, it does lift and, luckily, is quite light.

  Gingali snorts in his sleep and shuffles. Derry and Jude pause, holding the shell high, then as the beast does not wake, they carry it away, back to the beach where the sea is again calm and the wind, as though it only rose to help the children, has died.

  They bury the shell in the sand and wait for daybreak.

  A howl echoes from the bamboos. Gingali is awake and has found he has no shell. Seabirds swoop. They can see Gingali has no protection and are already thinking of a few mouthfuls of his flesh for breakfast.

  Gingali appears on the edge of the bamboos, the blue and yellow patches on his pale skin, a bright target in the morning light. One of the great white birds dives and with a squeal Gingali moves aside and the bird lands, beak-first in the sand.

  The children giggle.

  “Here, Gingali. We know where your shell is. You can have it back if you tell us how to find Sydney!” cries Derry.

  The beast lifts his heavy head and blinks his eyes. He wades through the river, comes up to them and says, “Give it to me now or I shall be eaten alive, you nasty children! NOW I say!”

  “First tell us how to find Sydney. And we need to know what he looks like!” says Jude.

  “Oh very well. But he is useless. He will probably take you to the wrong fruit and I can’t imagine how you will get near Bazalob. Sydney is very small and black. He looks like an elephant with wings whose legs have been chopped off. Bazalob will probably eat him - and you!”

  “Where is he?” Derry demands.

  “He lives inside a magic ring of moonstones and diamonds. Your first problem will be getting him out - not so easy as stealing my shell, I can tell you! You’ll find him after half a day’s travel in the land of Burnt Bushes. There are always fires there and his magic ring protects him,” explains Gingali, “Now can I please have my shell back?”

  “Which direction do we go?” asks Jude.

  “East,” snaps Gingali.

  “Thank you,” says Jude.

  The children go to the place where they buried the shell and after much scrabbling, life it out and carry it to Gingali. Setting it straight on his back takes time, but eventually it fits as before.

  “Goodbye!” cry the children and turn to look for the Travelling Pot.

  “Behind the sea holly,” whispers Mikono.

  They see a giant clump of silver sea holly and peering behind, find the pot, glinting in the morning sun. They climb in and the pot slowly rises from the beach. Seabirds swoop close, curious to know if it contains any breakfast, then fly away because they cannot get in the narrow rim.

  They fly over more beach, until the sea disappears and they see a desolate stretch of bushes burnt black, like skeletons scattered in red earth.

  “How shall we get Sydney out of the magic ring?” ponders Jude.

  “Perhaps he will know what we have to do,” replies Derry hopefully.

  The pot descends and floats above the black bushes. The children peer among them but there is no sign of a small winged elephant. Then a rugged rock rises, piece by piece before their eyes and in the centre gapes the dark mouth of a cave.

  The pot lands on the red earth and Derry and Jude climb out. They walk towards the cave. Pausing at the entrance they hear a grunt followed by a squeak, then a squeak followed by a grunt. They step inside.

  It is damp and dark but shining in the centre, is a ring of moonstones and diamonds and inside, a curious curled up black being.

  “Are you Sydney?” asks Jude. The shape shifts and grunts again.

  “And what if I am? Who wants to know?” it queries in a high voice, ending in a squeak.