Magicalamity (21 page)

And a moment later they were on the screen themselves. When Clarence appeared, the great crowd broke into a roar of cheering.

“WELCOME TO DRAGON’S LAWN!” a voice boomed out over the sound system, “BEFORE THE BIG TRIAL, A SONG FROM A BIG STAR—GIVE IT UP FOR JAY TREBONKERS!”

There was screaming, and a surge of teenage fairies towards the stage in front of the screen. Dahlia’s rock-star son walked on with his band (all dressed in black leather jeans and amazing shoes like the claws of an eagle) and launched into his latest big hit, “Old Fairies Suck.”

The music was deafening, and Tom couldn’t make out
much more than “
Old fairies suck / They’re always tripping balls
 …,” but the atmosphere was electric; Pindar was on his feet stamping in rhythm and waving his arms. The next song was called “Up Yours, Falconers” and even Tom joined in the chorus, which was simply “
Up Yours, Falconers! / Bog off and don’t come back!
” roared by the crowd over and over again.

“Isn’t he fantastic?” gasped Pindar. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“He’s great!” Tom yelled back over the cheering.

Jay Trebonkers gave a special bow to Clarence, and mouthed, “Hi, guys!” to the boys before he left the stage.

“Good,” said Clarence. “I can take my earplugs out—he’s a nice young man, but rock music is wasted on me. I fear I am one of the old fairies who suck. Shall we have lunch?”

It was a very good lunch of chicken pie followed by ice cream, which had magically been kept cold. Clarence had coffee and cheese, and posh chocolates were passed round. Lorna was right, Tom thought. He certainly knows how to make himself comfortable.

The noise in the arena had quietened down to a seething murmur like the sound of a strong wind.

“Tom, bring your chair close to mine,” Clarence said, “and I’ll do my best to explain anything you find
puzzling. Would you care for a glass of really excellent fairy port?”

“No, thanks.” Tom’s eyes were fixed to the screen.

It showed a courtroom full of polished wood and very smart people in robes and wigs—just like a court in the mortal world.

A deep male voice boomed, “The High Fairy Court is in session—let the song begin!”

“Song?” The trial hadn’t even started, and Tom was already bewildered.

“It’s called the Tiberius Anthem,” Clarence said. “It has to be sung before every public occasion.”

“You mean, like a national anthem?”

“Pretty much—the words are all about Tiberius being wonderful.”

On the screen everyone in the court stood up and began to sing, but it was impossible to make out the words—everyone in the arena broke into loud boos and catcalls. In the packed court Tom saw Lorna and Iris looking nervous but very excited, and Terence Banshee opening a packet of mints and chatting to a bat on his shoulder.

“That’s one of his cousins,” Pindar said. “And there’s my ex-mum—the nude one in the front row.”

Tom saw his wicked aunt Dolores, stark naked except for a chunky necklace. “Why isn’t she wearing clothes?”

“She’s too stuck-up,” said Clarence. “In the Realm, being nude is a sign of being posh.”

The screen was suddenly swamped by a huge wrinkled face with little black eyes like sour currants and a terrible Falconer nose. He wore a red robe and long white wig.

“That’s Judge Plato Falconer,” Clarence told Tom, “the greatest legal mind in the Realm.”

“Let’s get on with it,” said Judge Plato, up on the screen. “This is the case of the Ten vs. Jonas Harding—what idiot agreed to defend him?” A court official whispered something in his ear. “Who? Speak up! Ms. Pease-Blossom?”

“Yes, my lord.” Dahlia appeared, elegant in her wig and gown, and the Hopping Hill audience broke into cheers and whistles.

“You’re aware of Rule Four? You know you’ll be killed along with the prisoner?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“SHAME!” someone shouted in the court. “It’s a setup!”

“Silence!” the old judge snapped crossly. “Pease-Blossom—that name is familiar—you were one of my students at the university.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Dahlia.

“Hmmm—you were rather bright, until you ran off to get married. What’ve you been up to?”

“This and that,” said Dahlia.

“Well, I admire your courage. But I warn you now, you are pitting your wits against the full might of the Realm—Tiberius Falconer himself is speaking for the prosecution.”

“BOO!” yelled the crowd on Hopping Hill.

“But that’s so unfair!” cried Tom.

“Indeed it is,” Clarence said, taking a sip of port. “When we throw out the Ten and have proper elections, my slogan is going to be ‘Vote the Fair back into Fairy.’ Quite snappy, don’t you think?”

Tom wasn’t interested in elections. Another face had appeared on the screen—a face that looked like that of a duck-billed platypus with ears and a mustache. Dahlia’s description of Tiberius Falconer had been spot-on. Tom would have known him at once, even if the crowd on Dragon’s Lawn had not erupted into howls of rage.

“My father,” Pindar said bitterly. “And that’s the rest of the Ten with him.”

Tiberius and the Ten were all nude. Tom counted the rest of the nasty-looking bunch. “There are only seven of them.”

“Two were changed into beetles, don’t forget,” Clarence said. “They’re inside the matchbox on that cushion.”

“OK, Plato,” Tiberius began, “I’ll keep it short. He’s guilty—end of story.”

Judge Plato was stern. “You have to address me as ‘my lord,’ and you have to follow the rules.”

“But I’m Tiberius Falconer! I don’t follow other people’s rules!”

“When you’re in my court, you follow MINE! Bring in the prisoner.”

The prisoner—Tom could hardly breathe. He was about to see Dad for the first time since his disappearance.

To his disappointment, the screen showed a large police fairy holding something furry in the palm of his hand.

“Why is he still disguised as a BAT?” shouted the judge. “This court can’t be bothered with the translation spell. Change him back!”

“Well, you see,” Tiberius said, “he was cheaper to feed as a bat, and he’ll be much easier to execute—I can just walk on him.”

“I don’t care! For one thing, this court doesn’t have a truth-globe small enough.”

“Who cares about the truth?”

“Change him back,” rasped Plato, “or I’ll throw out this case!”

“OK, OK—keep your wig on!”

Suddenly, there was Dad—a bit thinner despite the fattening diet, but otherwise looking just the same and perfectly healthy in his familiar mortal clothes. Tom’s
heart leapt with relief, and it was hard not to burst into tears.

“You see, Tom?” Clarence gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Fit as a fiddle!”

He really did look fine—Tom’s spirits lifted as he saw his dad smiling at his friends while a court official hung a truth-globe around his neck.

On the screen Judge Plato said, “Read the charges.”

Tiberius cleared his throat and read from a piece of paper. “Jonas Harding, you are charged with heartbreaking with intent to kill, unlawful marriage with a mortal, kidnapping a dead body and producing a demisprite. How do you plead?”

Jonas stood up very straight, and looked boldly at the judge. “NOT GUILTY!”

T
here was tremendous cheering on Dragon’s Lawn.

The court stayed silent—most people looked scared of Tiberius’s quivering nude fury.

“NOT guilty?” he snapped. “Do you DENY that my sister Milly was in love with you?”

“Excuse me, my lord.” Dahlia leapt smartly to her feet. “I hate to interrupt, but Jonas is wearing a truth-globe—he can’t lie.”

“TELL THAT WOMAN TO SHUT UP!” roared Tiberius.

Tom held his breath, afraid that Dahlia had gone too far and was about to be vaporized.

But Judge Plato said, “Certainly not. ‘That woman’
happens to be the counsel for the defense, and Ms. Pease-Blossom expresses herself very elegantly.”

“Thank you, my lord!” Dahlia smiled. “I had a very good teacher.”

“Too kind! Too kind!” For a moment the judge’s wrinkles creased into something like a smile. “Your hair’s different—it suits you.”

“Look, this man broke my sister’s heart and killed her!” Tiberius said, stamping his foot. “He violated the old law, which means this court must sentence him to death! Now can we please execute him and start blowing up Hopping Hill?”

Pandemonium broke out—in the court on the screen, and on Dragon’s Lawn.

The screen suddenly flickered, and the picture changed to a lot of nude fairies doing a folk dance.

“BOO!”

“Bring back the trial!”

Tom tugged at Clarence’s sleeve and shouted above the din, “What’s going on?”

Clarence was calm. “I expect they’ve broken into a massive fight. They’ll restore the picture when they’ve cleared up the mess. Let’s all have another cup of tea.”

Though he was frantic to know what was happening to his dad, Tom was forced to be patient. He ate a slice of fruitcake and watched the folk dancing on the big screen.

At last, after about half an hour, the picture of the trial came back, and there were more deafening cheers. The courtroom looked exactly the same, but most of the people there had torn and dirty clothes. Some had black eyes and swollen lips. Lorna had lost a sleeve of her jacket, and half her hair seemed to be covered with green ink. Iris’s feathered hat was squashed out of shape.

The only person to come out of the fight looking better than before was Judge Plato, who had changed into a smart new white wig and pinned a large scarlet carnation to his robe.

“Ms. Pease-Blossom, please carry on with the case for the defense.”

“WHY?” cried Tiberius. “Who cares about his so-called defense? Let me kill him—I’ve got a ring of bulldozers around that wretched Hopping Hill, just waiting to move in!”

Again the crowd around Tom burst out in angry booing—and this time the ground beneath Tom’s chair shuddered, tipping a couple of glasses off the picnic table.

“The mountain’s on our side!” Clarence said, chuckling.

“Are we safe here?” asked Tom.

“Quite safe, dear boy—no Falconers for miles!”

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Tom muttered to Pindar. “Isn’t he scared of being in an earthquake?”

“He doesn’t look scared,” Pindar said doubtfully, “but let’s put our wings on, just in case we need to make a fast getaway.”

“Good idea.” Tom took his wings out of his backpack and quickly buckled them on.

Clarence was glued to the screen. “Why isn’t Plato allowing Tiberius to speak? And why on earth is he wearing that fancy wig?”

In the courtroom, Judge Plato went on: “I warn you, Tiberius, I have the power to seal up your mouth with sticky tape—and I won’t hesitate to use it if you interrupt Ms. Pease-Blossom one more time!”

“My lord,” Dahlia said, “you’re being absolutely sweet—thank you so much!”

“Take your time, Ms. Pease-Blossom. It’s a pleasure to watch you.”

The crowd in the arena whistled and made kissing noises—and even people within the court were trying not to giggle. Tom caught a glimpse of his dad, openly grinning.

“How convenient,” Clarence said. “Old Plato’s fallen in love with Dahlia! Look at Tiberius!”

Tiberius’s nude body was scarlet and trembling with anger. He looked so funny that Tom and Pindar burst out laughing.

“Wait till his medals fall off,” Pindar said. “They’re only stuck on with Blu Tack!”

Judge Plato leaned over his desk towards Dahlia. “Do you have many witnesses to call, Ms. Pease-Blossom?”

“Yes, my lord—I hope that won’t be a nuisance.”

“Not at all! But I think we’ll take a long break for supper first. There’s a lovely little French place beside the river, where the quails’ eggs and champagne—”

“OBJECTION!” shrieked Tiberius.

“Objection overruled,” said Judge Plato. “This court is adjourned for at least three hours. All rise!”

To the general astonishment of Tiberius, the people in the court and everyone watching on the big screen, Judge Plato sprang out of his chair and the screen suddenly went blank.

“Oh well,” Clarence said. “That will give us a nice break to make our own supper. It’s a Lancashire hotpot.” Something bleeped in his pocket. “Excuse me.”

He took out his phone and Dahlia’s face appeared on the little screen (fairy mobiles were powered by magic and showed the person’s face). “Hello, Dahlia. What’s the matter?”

“This is an emergency; I need your help.”

“My dad!” Tom looked over Clarence’s shoulder. “Is he OK?”

“Oh, this has nothing to do with Jonas,” Dahlia said. She had removed her barrister’s wig, and seemed to be wearing something blue and gauzy. “In about twenty minutes I’m meeting Judge Plato for a cozy little supper
beside the river. The only problem is, he’s very prim and proper about fairies who … er … bend the law to exploit mortals.”

“I know what this is about,” Tom said. “You don’t want him to find out about your husbands.”

“No, Tom, he wouldn’t understand at all. I was careful never to break the old law—obviously, because I would’ve been killed if I had—but I did twist it about a bit.”

Clarence chuckled. “Twist it? You MANGLED it!”

On the phone, Dahlia looked pained. “This isn’t a laughing matter, darling. Plato won’t approve at all. I’ll confess, of course—but I have to get rid of them first.”

“We can deal with it after the trial,” Clarence said.

“It has to be now. I remember him from college—I can’t let him anywhere near me if there’s the tiniest hint of bad magic!”

“I’m surprised you want him anywhere near you,” Tom said. “He’s not much of a looker.”

“Darling, what are you talking about? Plato’s one of the most attractive men in the whole Realm.” She seemed to mean this, and Tom had to avoid looking at Pindar in case they started laughing.

Clarence frowned. “Sorry, Dahlia—but I’m waiting for the fall of the Falconers, and I don’t see how I’m supposed to help your romance.”

“It’s quite simple,” Dahlia said. “I want Tom and
Pindar to nip into the mortal world and set my husbands free.”

Tom felt like cheering—Dahlia’s enslaved husbands had been the main thing that had stopped him from liking her properly.