Felix and the Red Rats (10 page)

Shrugging misgivings aside, Felix took a sip of his barley water and it was delicious. He’d forgotten how thirsty he was and could not help himself from taking a deeper draught and then another. He sat then, quietly, nursing his glass.

Once the regent was satisfied that the four had all been catered for, he sat down again, and, in turn, considered each of them thoughtfully. This scrutiny was not especially unpleasant, as he maintained his friendly smile
throughout. Then he turned to Medulla and gestured.

‘Medulla, could I trouble you for your clipboard?’

Immediately, Medulla stood, and brought him the notes he had taken. These the regent scanned carefully before he read each of their names aloud so that the four could identify themselves.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘All seems to be in order.’ He repeated their names, nodding to each as if committing them to memory.

‘Now,’ he began, ‘I must tell you that I am Count Cava, and I have been charged to look after this realm until— But more of that later …’

He glanced around at them. Bella took the hint and bowed her head respectfully, and the others followed her lead.

‘Good,’ resumed the regent. ‘Now, I don’t suppose I should pretend that we have not reached certain conclusions about this unexpected visit of yours … It does seem that you may have been brought here for a reason and it is our fondest hope that this reason may be a contribution to the saving of Axillaris from its unfortunate predicament.’

Myrtle was looking a little confused by these elaborate words, and, seeing her confusion, the regent changed tack.

‘Perhaps I should put you in the picture about this unfortunate predicament? Medulla?’

‘My lord?’ replied Medulla.

‘To what extent have you explained?’

‘I have given a somewhat cursory explanation, my lord.’

‘Good, I’m sure you have.’ The regent turned back to the children. ‘Forgive me if I repeat things you already know, but it is crucial that you understand just how very important your visit may be — that is, if its purpose is as we suspect. My niece, the princess Pia, is of course the rightful ruler of Axillaris, as I presume Medulla would have mentioned. Because she has so far failed to solve the Succession Riddle, entrusted to me by her late father, she is, alas, unable to accede to the throne. Medulla may have told you this as well?’

They nodded.

‘Good. This situation has compelled me, reluctantly and increasingly sadly, to rule Axillaris in her place for several years now.’

‘Sadly?’ asked Bella.

‘Of course, sadly,’ the regent said. ‘It makes me unbearably sad that there has been this interminable interruption to the rightful succession, but duty must, but duty must.’

His expression was of such wistful regret that Felix was almost convinced.

Then Count Cava recovered himself and looked at them once again with a hopeful expression. ‘So,’ he said, ‘you will appreciate the joy that you will bring — to me, to the princess Pia, indeed to the whole
kingdom — if Fortuna has somehow arranged your presence here with the answer to that diabolical riddle.’

He leaned back expectantly, patiently, his fingers forming a cathedral again.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Bella, ‘but we don’t have the answer.’

The regent frowned slightly, and then turned again to Medulla. ‘You have asked them the riddle?’

‘I have, my lord,’ said Medulla. ‘What three creatures are bound by Pia?’

‘That is the wording,’ agreed the regent. ‘And,’ he said, returning to the children, ‘this riddle means nothing to you?’

His friendly tone is still there
, thought Felix,
but his gaze seems a little sharper
.

Bella shook her head. ‘We’re utterly flummoxed,’ she said. ‘All of us. It doesn’t seem to make any sense. It’s not like an ordinary riddle at all.’

‘There’s something missing,’ said Felix.

‘It’s dumb,’ said Moonface, reaching for another piece of fudge.

‘Hmm,’ mused the regent. ‘So you have no idea at all? But do you have any idea how much this means to Axillaris?’

Bella looked at him. ‘Even if we knew,’ she said politely, ‘I’m dreadfully sorry, but it would make no difference. None of us has any idea of the answer to the riddle. It doesn’t make sense to us at all.’

‘You would be its saviours. The gratitude of Axillaris would be yours. Riches would be showered upon you.’

‘I’m really, really sorry,’ said Bella. ‘But I don’t see how we can help at all. We’re just kids from a completely different world.’

‘Lost kids,’ said Felix.

For some time the regent sat pondering as he glanced from one to the other.

He doesn’t believe us
, thought Felix.

‘If you haven’t brought the answer to the riddle with you,’ said the regent, ‘then
why
are you here?’

There is a hint of suspicion in his voice
, thought Felix.
I’m sure of it.

It was Bella again who replied. ‘We’ve no idea,’ she said. ‘It just sort of happened. We were in our world and then, before we knew what was really going on we’d stumbled into what must have been a Way Station sort of place and then we were suddenly here. It was a complete accident. We didn’t even know that Way Stations existed.’

‘You’re telling me
how
you came here, not
why
you came here,’ said the regent.

This time there was no mistaking the edge of sourness that had crept into his voice.

Bella shrugged, and hugged herself. She had no idea what else she could say to convince the regent. As her arms wrapped around herself she felt the diary tucked against her chest and was reminded of Medulla’s
warning. Mindful of this, she kept her arms where they were.

After this there was a prolonged silence. The regent sat as if lost in thought, but Felix was aware that every so often he would sharply study each of the four in turn as though he were probing for any possible weakness. The previously warm atmosphere had grown a little frostier, Felix thought, and the extended silence was becoming more and more uncomfortable.

He’s waiting for somebody to crack
, thought Felix.
But, even if someone were to crack, so what? None of us can answer the stupid riddle!

Eventually, it was Moonface who broke the silence.

‘Is that it?’ he said. ‘Can we go home now?’

The question seemed to hang in the air. Felix thought he heard a sharp intake of breath from near the door. The guard, perhaps? Or Medulla?

Probably Moonface had been lulled into a sort of recklessness by the apparent warmth of their reception, the smiles, the barley water, the fudge, for there was a cockiness in his tone, almost a challenge.

However, the regent merely regarded him mildly, although he did regard him rather longer than comfort could stand, and before long Moonface began to fidget.

‘Well?’ Moonface demanded.

Don’t, Moonface
, pleaded Felix silently.
Don’t step any deeper into it!

‘Why should I allow you to go home, little boy?’
asked the regent. ‘You’ve done nothing so far to earn your return ticket.’

Moonface stared at him, lost, momentarily, for words.

‘I think you need to stay here, really, until you tell me what the answer to the riddle is. I’m sure you have it with you somewhere.’

The regent took off his round glasses, and rubbed them vigorously with his wide sleeve. With his glasses off, Felix realised, the regent did not look nearly so kindly. The glasses must have obscured the malicious glitter now apparent in his eyes as he added, ‘We do have some excellent accommodation you might like. It’s deep underneath the castle. Rather damp, and not well-lit, I admit, but very secure and excellent for sharpening the memory.’

Moonface whitened, but found some last residue of courage. ‘I don’t have the stupid answer to the stupid riddle, but I bet Bella does!’ he cried.

‘Really?’

The regent smiled. His glasses were on again and his face had resumed the rather other-worldly friendliness of a music teacher.

‘Why do you say that?’

Moonface looked wildly at Bella, then at Felix before turning back to the still-smiling regent and crying, ‘Ask her what she’s got hidden under her sweatshirt!’

‘Oh, good,’ smiled the regent. ‘We’re finally getting somewhere.’

He stood up. ‘I’d very much like to see whatever mysterious something you have under your jumper, my dear, so please don’t prevaricate any longer and give it to me immediately.’

Bella, with a furious look at Moonface, who screwed up his nose in return, reached under her sweatshirt and retrieved the diary. Silently, she handed it to the regent.

‘Wonderful,’ he murmured.

Then, turning to the guard, he pointed at Moonface and said, ‘Take this snivelling wretch to the dungeons, will you, and begin immediate arrangements for his trial and execution. He must learn about the perils of lese-majesty, I fear, before it gets him into real trouble.’

We returned to the kitchen wondering.

Mum was more than ever confirmed in her conviction that we should take the rats to the vet.

‘That proves it,’ she said. ‘Those rats have got something and, whatever it is, it’s contagious!’

It was hard to argue with that, but I tried. ‘It might be contagious, Mum, but it doesn’t seem to be troubling them. The rats do seem to be quite happy, even if they
are
red.’

Martha giggled. ‘That rat Mr Porterfield was holding up didn’t look too bloody happy,’ she said.

‘Yeah, but that wasn’t because of a disease, that was because of Rusty,’ I said.

‘If you ask me, Rusty’s a disease,’ said Dad. ‘Every time he gets into my vegetable garden he—’

‘Don’t change the subject, John,’ said Mum. ‘Those rats — what do you call them, Gray?’

‘Simon and Garfunkel,’ I said, taking a punt that Gray wouldn’t answer.

He didn’t.

‘Whatever,’ said Mum. ‘Well, John?’

‘If you say so, Nancy, but
I
can’t do it. I have a job of work to do and I need to get there in the not-too-distant future. I can’t afford the time to take a couple of sunburnt rats to the vet.’

‘It’s not sunburn,’ said Mum.

‘And you have to get to work, too,’ added Dad.

‘I do know that, John. I’m not suggesting you take them or I take them. They’re Gray’s rats, or the school’s or whatever. They’re Gray’s responsibility. Gray should take them.’

Everybody looked at Gray.

‘Don’t look at me,’ he said. ‘And don’t ask me, either. I’m absolutely sick of the bloody things and I’m not taking them anywhere!’

Mum sighed.

‘Don’t look at me either!’ said Martha.

Mum sighed again.

‘I don’t drive,’ I said. ‘And I’m not sure they’d let me on the bus with them, anyway.’

‘All right then,’ said Mum, looking around the table
before adding ominously, ‘but nobody blame me if those rats cause any more problems around here or spread any nasty disease. I’ve done my best and I’ve done my dash!’

During this conversation, Uncle Felix had remained silent. Of course, he hadn’t offered to take the rats to the vet, but nobody would have expected him to. However, he did seem to be interested in Gray and in Gray’s reactions. Quite often, I could see him tugging thoughtfully at his moustache and studying Gray carefully. Gray, I guessed, was completely unaware of this scrutiny as he had scarcely looked at anybody, especially after his little outburst. Instead he had his eyes firmly fixed on his Coco Pops as he morosely spooned them into his mouth.

Uncle Felix reached for the coffee percolator and
refilled
his cup, and then he turned to me.

‘Are you doing anything particular today, David?’

I considered my plans: breakfast, long gap, lunch, long gap, dinner, avoid Gray, bed …

‘Not really,’ I admitted.

‘Well,’ said Uncle Felix. ‘Would you like to come into town with your father and me? The festival’s winding down but there’re a few displays and things and we could have lunch together if you like?’

I grinned at him. ‘Really?’

‘Why not? And anyway, there’s somebody I’d like you to meet.’

‘Who?’

I remembered his telling Mum earlier that there was somebody he wanted me to meet, but he’d managed to avoid telling me who it was.

‘You’ll see …’

‘How intriguing,’ Mum said. ‘A mystery guest. Does he need to brush himself up or wear a tie, Uncle Felix?’

‘No,’ said Uncle Felix, ‘I shouldn’t think so. He’ll be fine as he is.’

‘Well,’ said Mum, ‘that rules out the prime minister, the Pope or the Archbishop of Canterbury.’

‘Probably somebody much more pleasant,’ growled Dad, laying aside his newspaper. ‘Anyway, chop chop! If you people are coming with me, I’ll be leaving in ten minutes.’

Later, Dad dropped us off at the Arts Centre where the festival was being held. I liked this place. It had once been a university and it was full of old buildings and cloisters, turrets and towers and unexpected little courtyards. It was a great place for a fantasy writers’ festival: you could almost imagine it as some kind of magic castle.

There were a few displays and a marquee with a lot of
books and some interactive stuff, although the interactive stuff was pretty boring really. All you did was press a few knobs and then the game did all the imagining for you, if you know what I mean. In fact, if your mind started to wander away from the action, some troll with a club would come along and, before you knew it, bop you on the head. Game over. My mate George was pretty good at computer games. He could stay utterly focused, eyes fixed, fingers pressing and flexing. He’d get amazing scores.

After an hour or so, there was a particular session Uncle Felix wanted to go to, but it looked to me even more boring than the games in the marquee:
The Wheel of Fate in Children’s Fantasy
.

He sensed how I felt immediately. One thing I liked about Uncle Felix was that not only could he seem to read people pretty well, but he never made a thing of it.

Take Gray, for example. Uncle Felix understood very well that Gray had a real snitch against him, blamed him for the red rats, and pushed the rudeness envelope as hard as he could. But Uncle Felix never let it trouble him, never even let on really. He stayed mild, calm and put up with all sorts of stuff as if it wasn’t happening. He merely tugged a little at his white moustache and looked thoughtful, almost as though Gray was a character in one of his books. Of course, his non-reaction probably made Gray resent him all the more. There’s nothing worse than not getting a reaction when you’re really trying to get one.

‘Why don’t we split up,’ suggested Uncle Felix. ‘This
session will last an hour and a half or so. Why don’t you do something you’d like to do and we could meet up after it’s over and have our lunch?’

I smiled with relief.

‘Great,’ I said. ‘I could go downtown and look at the shops.’

‘Or there’s the gardens and the museum?’ suggested Uncle Felix.

‘Yeah, that too,’ I said.

‘All right,’ said Uncle Felix, glancing at his watch, ‘meet me back here in, say, two hours. There’s a café in the Arts Centre where we’ll meet my friend.’

‘Okay.’

‘You have a watch?’

I held up my phone. ‘It has the time. Perhaps I should take your number in case anything happens?’

‘My number?’

‘Yes, on your phone.’

He laughed. ‘A mobile? I’m sorry, David, I don’t have one. Never felt the need. No, just be back on time. If I had a phone you’d find it easier to be late.’

In the event I was early. I suppose I was keen to find out who the mysterious friend was Uncle Felix wanted me to meet. I was finding it — what was Mum’s word? —
intriguing
.

We were sitting down in the café having already ordered before the friend arrived. I was having a roll with ham and a coke, and Uncle Felix a chicken salad with a coffee.

‘Who is it?’

‘Wait and see.’

After several more minutes waiting, I had almost finished my roll when a woman came into the café, looked around, and then waved at Uncle Felix. He saw her, waved back, and stood up.

‘Here she is,’ he said. He had such a goofy smile on his face I thought this must be his girlfriend, except surely guys as old as Uncle Felix didn’t have girlfriends?

As she approached I could see she was hardly a girl either, she could almost have been as old as Uncle Felix, although it’s harder to tell with women. She did have a nice face and she was dressed pretty smartly. The most striking thing about her, though, was her unusual hair, and this made her look younger, I guess.

It wasn’t white, like Uncle Felix’s, and it wasn’t grey. She wore it quite long for an older woman, and it wasn’t curled or permed or anything.

No, her hair was red. Brilliantly, brightly red.

‘Sit down, sit down,’ fussed Uncle Felix, pulling out a chair for her.

She smiled at him, sat down, and then smiled at me. It was a warm and friendly smile although tinged with a little curiosity, as if she’d heard something about me and was checking out the reality with what she’d heard.

‘This is my great-nephew, David,’ said Uncle Felix, introducing us. ‘And, David, I’d very much like you to meet Dr Briggs.’

‘Hi,’ I said, a little unsurely.

Her hair was really a deep red, not artificial I’m sure, although it could have been, and so striking. I couldn’t really work out whether there was any particular reason Uncle Felix wanted me to meet this woman, or whether it was just because she was, as she appeared, well, a nice person. There was something about her name that rang a bell somewhere and nagged a little at me, though.

Briggs.

It was familiar.

‘Dr Bella Briggs,’ smiled Uncle Felix.

My mouth must have dropped. Of course — Briggs! Bella Briggs … Bella Briggs was the name of the girl in
Into Axillaris
, the one whose diary was pinched.

‘Are you … ?’ I asked.

Dr Briggs smiled a little mischievously, I thought.

‘Am I what?’ she asked.

Uncle Felix said easily, ‘Dr Briggs is not a medical doctor. She works in a university, David, and she’s an expert on children’s literature. In fact, I’ve just been to her presentation.’