Hamish X and the Hollow Mountain (25 page)

Mimi leapt onto the mechanical carcass and crowed, “Don't mess with Mimi Catastrophe Jones!”

A ragged cheer went up from the beleaguered Guards. Everywhere, the defenders reached for their ropes and hoped to imitate her achievement. Mimi looked up and pointed.

“Look!”

The
Orphan Queen
approached from above. The cargo doors hung open and Noor stood in the hold.

Inside the bridge, Parveen manned the wheel. A raccoon stood at the trimsman's post, manipulating the levers with its tiny paws. “We have to go lower,” Parveen shouted.

“Yes, sir.”

“Aye. You're supposed to say ‘aye.'”

“What's wrong with your eye?”

“Nothing … On a ship you don't yes you say—” Parveen realized he was explaining ship's etiquette
⁶³
to a mechanical raccoon and shook his head. “Never mind. Just
take us lower.” He clicked on the speaking tube attached to the wheel and shouted into it. “Noor! Get ready to drop the payload.”

“Understood,” came the tinny reply.

Below, the Firebirds were all gathering to greet the airship. They raised their snouts in unison and sprayed gouts of fire up at it, but the vessel stayed just out of reach.

“That's as low as we get, Noor!” Parveen shouted down the tube.

“Okay!” Noor shouted back. “Bombs away.”

Noor tipped a sack of orange and white spheres out of the cargo door. The objects dropped down among the gathered bird machines, clattering like hail against their metal skins. Some of the spheres shattered, but most landed on the soft earth in the midst of the Firebirds.

In seconds they turned into a swarming mass of hamsters, pink ears flickering, pink noses quivering. The furry creatures skittered up the towering legs of the Firebirds and along their squat bodies, traversing the long necks and finally reaching the blunt heads. Several simulated rodents latched onto the skulls of each creature. Once they were all in position, they detonated.

The scene was awe-inspiring. The birds, invincible only moments before, were reduced to flailing helplessness. They spun and danced, jittered and strained, smashing into one another as they collapsed into bizarre convulsions. Fire spewed from their snouts in uncontrolled bursts, showering everything in their path with flame. Fortunately, the Guards had pulled back out of reach.

In less than a minute the Firebirds lay on the scorched lawn in a heap of wreckage. Here and there a metal limb jerked involuntarily, but there was no doubt that the birds were out of the fight.

The Guards cheered loudly, waving to Noor in the airship. Mr. Kipling raised his hand and gave the thumbs-up. Parveen, in the bridge, saw the gesture and returned it.

The King called, “Everyone! To the foot of the stairs!”

The Guards took advantage of the momentary lull to regroup around their King. When they had gathered at the bottom step, King Liam, coughing from the smoke from the many fires raging around them, addressed his troops.

“Everyone accounted for?” The Guards nodded. “Well done, Mimi. You're an inspiration.” Mimi blushed as Guards slapped her on the back. Even Cara nodded. The King continued. “Parveen and Noor have given us a moment's reprieve. We must take advantage of it. I want half of you to go up the stairs and help Mrs. Francis now. The rest stay here. We hold the stairs as long as we can. I am going up. I have to prepare for the departure. The rest of you, good luck. Aidan is in charge. Be brave. I'm proud of all of you. Don't take any unnecessary risks. Stay only until the children are free. We'll be sealing the next cavern as soon as you are through. Let's go.”

He turned and hobbled up the stairs. Aidan took control. “Platoons one through eight go with the King. The rest stay here.”

Cara stepped forward. “I'm staying.”

“No you aren't. You're in charge of those platoons. You go.”

“I can't leave you behind now.” Cara looked close to tears, her usual haughty scowl dissolving under some softer sentiment. “I can't be alone.”

Aidan hugged her. “You won't be. I'll be up in a moment. You'll see. I need you to lead. Understand?”

Cara looked into his brown eyes and nodded at last.
Blinking away tears, she turned and led the Guards up the stairs.

Mimi watched her go and called, “I'll keep an eye on 'im!”

Smoke was still curling from the twisted hole in the plating that led below to Heinrich's Cavern, but so far the bird creatures were the only things that had come through. Aidan and the rest of his Guards checked their equipment and prepared to hold the line. “Okay, people,” he said grimly. “They're gonna send their worst. We have to do our best.” They ranged themselves around the hole and braced for the onslaught.

What came out of the hole was the last thing they could have expected.

THE GREY AGENTS
stood on the stairs below, in neat rows, their jetpacks idling, waiting for the next phase in the attack. Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet huddled over a small television monitor at the head of the line. They watched in growing disbelief as the Firebirds were defeated, first by the girl from Windcity and then by the strange little hamsters dropping from the airship. Mr. Candy tossed the monitor aside to fall hundreds of metres and crash on the rock platform below.

“Mr. Sweet, it would seem that the first wave has been repulsed.”

“Indeed, Mr. Candy. What's next?”

Mr. Candy looked over the edge of the stairs and saw the CCTVs labouring up the stone steps to join the assault.

“Shall we release the next wave?”

“Yes, Mr. Candy. Let's.”

Mr. Candy pressed a long finger to his temple and said in a clear voice, “Open CCTV cargo doors.”

Immediately, all the cargo bins on the back of the lumbering vehicles opened. Out of the bins came a swarm of colour that massed into a gigantic cloud in the middle of the cavern. Once all the tiny objects were congregated they moved in concert towards the opening, flocking past the watching agents with a sound like a hundred electric fans and sweeping up through the hole into the cavern above.

THE GUARDS HEARD
the swarm coming, a hum that grew steadily louder. Out of the hole came a throng of fluttering … butterflies. The tiny creatures were of myriad hues, delicate and beautiful. The Guards watched as the butterflies wafted up into the air and formed a sort of cloud of hovering colour.

“I don't get it,” Mimi breathed. “Butterflies? What's the idea?”

The swarm emerging from the hole petered out, and finally all the butterflies were massing together in the air metres over their heads. As the Guards watched, one of them delicately fluttered down. The creature flitted above them as if deciding where to alight. The little butterfly was so beautiful, tinted in the most delicate shades of blue and green, that one Guard, a girl with straw-coloured hair, held out her bare hand.

“No,” Aidan said sharply. Too late. The little butterfly landed on her palm. Instantly there was a flash of blue light and the girl went rigid. She slumped to the ground, unconscious.

“Hoods on! Gloves on!” It was all Aidan had time to say before the swarm descended.

Chapter 23

Noor joined Parveen in the bridge. They hovered close to the stairs, watching the progress of the refugees. Children scrambled up the stone steps with the help of the George raccoons and the Guards.

“We seem to have bought them some time,” Noor said. She pinched Parveen's cheek. “Well done, little brother.”

Parveen squirmed away from her hand. “Please. No pinching.”

“We make a good team, Parv. I'm so glad we found each other.”

Parveen nodded. “Indeed. But the name is Parveen. You've been listening to Mimi too much.” He turned his gaze to the stairs below. Mrs. Francis hustled children along. “We can't win this fight.”

“I agree,” Noor said, her quick nod sending her ponytail bouncing. “The escape pods are on the upper levels. We have to get everyone up there and away before the Grey Agents overwhelm them.”

“Escape pods?”

“They're capsules that can be launched down tubes hollowed out of the mountainside. They lead to an underground river. We can all float to safety, but we have to stall the ODA long enough to get all the kids away.” Noor's attention was drawn to the swarm of colour down at the base of the stairs. “What is that?”

A couple of hundred children were still on the stairs as the butterflies entered the cavern. Some of them stopped to look at the new arrivals in wonder.

“Am I seeing things?” Parveen said. “Are those butterflies?”

“It would seem so,” Noor answered. She picked up Mr. Kipling's binoculars from the map table and took a closer look. She saw the butterfly light in the Guard girl's hand and the girl fall stricken. “Oh, no. Those aren't real butterflies. They're a trick.”

Parveen took the binoculars from her and looked. He watched in horror as the butterflies descended en masse on the Guards around the breach. Some Guards were able to cover their exposed skin, but he saw many fall motionless to the ground.

“We've got to help them,” Parveen cried. “But how?”

MIMI WAS ONE
of the lucky ones, pulling her hood down over her face and adjusting her goggles. She already had her gloves on and so was immune to the butterfly effect. The light before her eyes was suddenly blotted out by a flurry of tiny flapping wings. She flapped her hands around her face, but it was no use. She staggered blindly, heading in one direction and hoping it wasn't taking her straight into the hole. Several panicked steps took her out of the attacking swarm at last. She burst into the light and ran straight into a statue, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She gasped through her breathing mask and looked around.

The swarm was thickest around the hole. Dark figures staggered in the heart of the cloud. One by one, individual Guards fought their way free. Coated with butterflies, they looked like delicately winged moving carpets.

Mimi was about to go to the aid of the Guards when a figure dressed in red and white dashed into the fray waving a burning branch. Mr. Kipling, who'd been looking for his
peaked cap in the wreckage of the wedding tent, had been separated from the Guards when the swarm attacked. Fortunately, he still wore his white gloves from the wedding. Around his face he had wrapped a white scarf that covered everything but his grey eyes. Swiping his makeshift torch back and forth he waded into the swarm, looking for Guards who were still upright. The butterflies shrank back from the heat; any that came too close ignited and shrivelled to crispy black husks.

Several more Guards struggled free, guided by the flaming torch. Many, too many more lay on the ground, immobilized by butterfly stings.

Mimi shouted, “Over here! Over here!” The Guards followed the sound of her voice, staggering blindly towards her. She grabbed the closest by the hand and pulled him over to a spot where a bonfire of broken chairs, shattered and set alight in the Firebird attack, burned brightly. The heat was enough to keep the butterflies at bay. She dragged another Guard over, and another. Soon a dozen Guards were swiping the clinging butterflies from their goggles.

“How many did we lose?” Aidan's voice was so welcome that Mimi felt tears start in her eyes. He grabbed her arm and shook her. “Mimi? How many?”

“Loads. I couldn't count 'em all.”

Mr. Kipling dashed out of the cloud waving his torch. Mimi thought it was a miracle he hadn't been stung. The man joined them by the fire. “You know, I never liked butterflies. Too fluttery for me by half! But these really take the biscuit.”

Aidan pulled a burning stick from the flames. “Grab a torch, everyone. We're going to get our people out of there.”

“Oh no,” one of the other Guards gasped and pointed. “The stairs.”

In the heat of the attack they had forgotten the refugees climbing above. Butterflies were separating from the main group and heading for the vulnerable children, who were looking behind them and pointing. Mrs. Francis urged them to climb, but the butterflies were already alighting. Here and there a child slumped motionless on the stone steps. The other children, filled with terror, began to push the ones in front. Panic was spreading.

“We gotta help,” Mimi shouted.

“What about our comrades?” Aidan pointed at the Guards lying unconscious around the breach. “We can't just leave them.”

“We have to fer now,” Mimi said. “Our job's to protect the children. We cain't do nuthin' fer these fellars if we lose the whole mountain.”

Aidan was torn, his eyes wide behind the goggles. Finally, he decided. “Grab a torch and follow me.”

The Guards did as they were told and soon they were racing up the stairs to the aid of the escaping children.

MRS. FRANCIS WATCHED
the approaching swarm with mounting terror.

“Stay calm! Stay calm! Don't push!” she cried but no one was listening. Children were climbing over each other to get to safety. The raccoons were doing their best, but they were small and not as strong as the panicked children.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Francis gasped. Her wedding dress was torn and smeared with soot. She looked up and saw that the gate to the Workshop level was less than a hundred metres away, but it seemed like miles.

“Help me!”

The little woman turned to the sound of the terrified voice. A tiny girl, the last of the long line of children, sat a few steps above Mrs. Francis. “I hurt my foot.” Mrs. Francis looked behind her and saw that the closest butterfly was scant metres away. She dashed up, crushed the little child to her ample bosom, and began to grimly climb the steps.

Mrs. Francis had never had a child of her own. The tiny girl in her arms was a stranger. She didn't even know her name. There are some people, however, to whom all children are important and special and worthy of any sacrifice. Mrs. Francis knew that she would not be able to outrun the butterflies. She had never been fit, had always been chubby, and right now she was close to exhaustion. So she did the only thing she could do: she stopped and covered the girl with her voluminous wedding dress and braced herself for the sting of the first butterfly.