Alfie Bloom and the Talisman Thief (16 page)

He landed sprawling across the floor, and tried to work out what had happened as he untangled himself from the overturned footstool. Had Ashford kicked him over? He couldn't believe it. “Why did you do that?” he shouted as he scrambled to his feet. Alfie froze. It wasn't Ashford sitting in the armchair any more. It was someone else. A tall man in green robes, with kind eyes and a long, plaited beard.

Orin Hopcraft.

A Trip Through Time

Orin beamed as he put down his book and quill, wiped his inky fingers on his tunic and helped Alfie to his feet.

“I was hoping that it wouldn't be too long before you paid me a visit.” He smiled as he righted the overturned footstool. “And that was quite an entrance.”

Alfie went bright red. Ashford's plan had obviously worked, but he couldn't help being horrified that he had embarrassed himself in front of Orin Hopcraft.

“Sorry. I hope I'm not disturbing you?”

“No apology needed,” said Orin, getting up and
reaching
for a jar labelled Mugwort. “And you're not disturbing me at all. Take a seat and I'll make us some tea. I have a feeling you bring troubling news.” Orin took several more jars of dried leaves and flowers from his shelves and measured them out into a kettle hanging above the fire. A sweet herbal aroma filled the room as he stirred the contents of the kettle and poured out two steaming cups of a greenish-yellow liquid. Alfie sniffed at his cup. He took a sip and felt every muscle in his body begin to relax.

“So, what brings you here?” asked Orin as he settled back into his armchair and fixed Alfie with his soft grey eyes. Alfie began to tell him everything that had happened over the last few days. The words tumbled over each other in their eagerness to get out as he told the story of the castle invasion, Ashford being dragged away, the sprite that had taken his place, the elves that were now roaming the castle's halls, Robin at risk of suffocating in the window seat, and the change magic Murkle and Snitch had left him with. Orin sat stroking one of the plaits in his beard as Alfie finally finished talking and waited for the druid to speak.

“Our word for oak tree is
daur
– door,” he said at last. “Because they are doorways to other worlds, such as the elven realms. I have travelled through
it
myself during Samhain and Beltane when the borders between worlds are thin. It should not have been opened by one without the knowledge or foresight to close it properly – especially as that person has already angered the ruler of that realm. Ashford has been foolish beyond belief.”

“You know Ashford?” asked Alfie.

Orin shook his head. “He cannot travel quite this far back, but I believe I will meet him at some point. I know of him, and his deeds, through Caspian.”

“Can you help us?” asked Alfie. “You could leave a warning for Ashford, telling him not to go through.”

“I'm afraid I can't interfere by trying to prevent this from happening,” said Orin, his eyes grave. “Whatever warnings I leave for any of you in the future could just lead to events occurring in a different way. The Fates warned me of this. Some points in history cannot be changed.” Alfie's heart dropped. He had been hoping that Orin would know exactly what to do and fix everything despite the six-hundred-year time difference.

“Ashford. How badly wounded is he?”

“Very. I think the wound is infected. It's making him really weak.” Alfie handed over the letter and pouch that Ashford had given him. He sat quietly,
studying
the druid's face as he read the letter, wondering what it said.

At last Orin set the letter aside, placed the velvet pouch on his writing desk, and beckoned Alfie over to the table by the window. The druid cut sprigs from several of the herbs growing in pots on the window sill, and placed them into a stone mortar Alfie had last used when making a potion with Ashford, which revealed his evil headmistresses as a two-headed dragon.

“You know what to do?” he asked, handing Alfie the pestle. Alfie took it and began to mash the herbs to a paste. Orin unstopped several glass vials and added drops of strongly scented oils to the mixture. As Alfie mixed the oils into the paste, Orin took jar after jar from his crowded shelves, tipping small amounts of different herbs into the iron kettle over his fire. The study was soon full of a heady herbal scent that made Alfie feel as though everything might be OK.

When the herbs in the mortar were nothing but smooth paste, Orin scooped them out into a glass jar and chanted musical-sounding words over it. The mixture seemed to clarify, becoming the same slightly luminous green as the ointment that had healed Alfie's bruises at Muninn and Bone.

“
I've seen this before,” said Alfie. “We've used some of it on Ashford already. This is your recipe?”

Orin smiled. “I have shared it with a few, but only I can make it as powerful as this. Trust me, this will work.” Before putting the top on the jar, Orin spooned a small amount into the brew in the kettle and stirred the potion briskly, nine times clockwise, then nine times widdershins. Using a cloth to carefully lift the kettle from the fire, he poured the steaming green liquid into a large stoneware jug.

“First, give him a draught of this tisane. It will send him to sleep for a couple of hours. Then clean the wound and apply this paste straight to it as a poultice.”

“It'll make him better? Completely?” asked Alfie.

“I cannot say without seeing him for myself. But it should draw the poison from his system. When he wakes he will be stronger.”

“Thank you, Orin,” said Alfie, tucking the jar into his pocket and taking the jug, as well as a small sack into which the druid had packed a loaf of bread, some cheese and a flagon of water.

“Remember what I taught you last time you visited? How to let yourself be drawn home.”

Alfie nodded and settled himself on the footstool, gripping the jug and sack tightly to
ensure
they travelled with him. Before he closed his eyes, the question that had been burning at the back of his mind sprang to his lips. “The change magic. I don't want it. Emily said you could help me get rid of it. Will you?”

“The creation magic I hid inside you when you were born could consume it to create something physical,” said Orin. “That's how I built this castle. But it would not be wise for one with no magical training to try. That magic is best left sleeping. The more you use it the greedier it will become.”

Alfie remembered the strange feeling he had as he tried to turn into his dad. “I could feel it watching me when I used the change magic. I think it wants to feed on it.”

“I'm sure it does. All the more reason not to let it have its way, and to stop using the change magic. You are too young and inexperienced. Perhaps when your druidic training begins I can—”

“But Emily said I should practise…”

“Her advice was unwise.”

“So I'm stuck with two magics that I don't want, and can't even use?” Alfie clenched his hands into fists as he spat out, “This isn't fair. I didn't even ask for any of this! People are getting hurt, because of me, because of the magic
you
gave me!”

Orin
sighed. “I'm sorry. I burdened you even more than I realized when I hid the magic within you. But it was vital that it passed out of this time and into yours. Using it, especially untrained in magic, would bring great risk.” He paused, pulling thoughtfully at his beard as if unsure whether to tell Alfie something. “Treat Ashford just as I have directed you,” he said at last. “If you really want to get rid of the change magic, he may be the only person that can help you.”

Alfie tried to read Orin's face, but he said no more on it.

“Tell Ashford I will do as he asks. He will find the item where he requested it to be left. Now go. Back to your own time.”

Alfie had no trouble travelling back through the years this time. It was as though he just had to let his body be pulled through time to the space it should occupy in the future. He wondered if that was how he should think when travelling into the past, as though he was hopping between his own lifetimes.

There was a yell as Alfie materialized on the footstool, landing almost on Amy's knee. She jumped to her feet and tried to look as though she hadn't just shouted out in fright.

“
Well done, Alfie!” said Ashford. “I'm sorry for kicking you over. I thought it would help you imagine you were in real peril.” Alfie could hardly be cross with him – it had worked.

“How's Robin?” he asked, setting down the steaming jug and handing the bag of food to Amy.

“OK, for now,” said Madeleine. “The elf is still sitting on the window seat, but we realized we could use the mirror to look inside it.” She held out the mirror.

Alfie watched Robin carefully roll over into a more comfortable position inside the large chest. It must have been dark in there, but the mirror had some form of night vision allowing Alfie to see his cousin clearly. Better still, he could see a little shaft of light spilling through a small vent at the bottom of the chest. Alfie was sure it hadn't been there before.

“Nice one, Orin,” he grinned.

“The others stopped searching a few minutes ago. They're eating now,” said Madeleine, showing Alfie the Great Hall. All of the elves that weren't watching rooms and hallways were sitting around the table, eating what looked like the entire contents of Ashford's storeroom. The Queen was on her throne, stroking the beak of the silver sparrow
on
her shoulder as she ate flowers and berries from a small bowl. “Looks as though they're just going to wait us out.”

“Alfie, did you give Orin the message?” asked Ashford, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders as he gave an involuntary shiver.

“I did. He said he'd do what you asked and will leave it where you wanted him to put it.”

“So, are you going to tell us what it is, Ash?” Amy asked. “Seems like Alfie has earned that much.”

“I can't,” said Ashford. “But it will solve all of this if I take it to her.” He pulled himself to his feet and began to stagger across the room. Alfie leapt up and held out his hands to block his path.

“Hey, slow down! You're not seriously thinking of going out there.”

“I have to. I can make them leave.”

Alfie stood firm as Ashford tried to push past him, but Amy and Madeleine helped guide him, protesting, back to the chair.

“See how weak you are?” said Alfie as Ashford tried and failed to stand up again. “If you can't even stand properly, how can you confront them?”

“But I can stop this,” cried Ashford, holding tightly to Alfie's T-shirt.

“
Then tell
me
where this thing is. If it will really make them leave, I can hand it over.”

“No, you won't understand. I've got to do it.”

Alfie realized that nothing was going to calm Ashford down, and changed his approach.

“OK. You can take it to them. But drink this first.” He poured out a cup of the brew the druid had made. “Orin said it would strengthen you. If you're going to face them, you'll need it.” He raised the cup to Ashford's lips.

“Then you'll let me go to them?” Ashford pleaded.

“I promise,” said Alfie. “Now drink.” No sooner had the butler drained the cup than he slumped back in the chair and began to snore gently.

Amy pulled up one of his eyelids. “He's out like a light. What did you do to him, Al?”

“He's OK,” said Alfie, guilt stabbing at him for deceiving Ashford. “Orin said the tea would knock him out for a couple of hours while it drives out the poison.” Ashford would be angry with him when he woke up, but there was no way Alfie was going to let him walk straight back into the elves' hands.

Opening the jar the druid had given him, Alfie peeled back Ashford's shirt. He undid the bandage on the butler's shoulder and stared at the wound
underneath.
Madeleine had done an excellent job of cleaning it. She had even applied little medical strips to hold the edges neatly together, but it still looked so raw. He began to apply the ointment in tiny dabs with his fingertip, flinching as he moved closer to the wound.

“Give it here,” said Madeleine, swiping the jar from Alfie. She scooped out some of the ointment and smeared it carefully over the damaged skin. When she was satisfied, she began to bandage it back up.

“You're pretty amazing, you know that, Maddie?” said Amy.

“I know,” said Madeleine in an offhand manner. But her cheeks flushed, and Alfie knew she was secretly delighted by the compliment. Galileo stretched out on his shelf and gave a sleepy meow, as though letting her know that he thought she was amazing too.

Alfie had almost forgotten about the walkie-talkie and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Robin's voice whispering from Orin's desk. He rushed over to grab it.