The Secret of Zanzibar (6 page)

‘We have to get out of here,' said Feast Thompson urgently.

He and Alistair looked around wildly for a path to take, somewhere to hide, but there was nothing. They were trapped.

‘Alistair, we'll have to climb. Can you stand?'

‘I think so,' said Alistair, though he really wasn't sure.

Feast helped him to his feet. Alistair swayed unsteadily for a moment, then staggered as the ground seemed to undulate beneath him. He leaned against the canyon wall for support.

Feast looked up at Slippers Pink and Tibby Rose and shrugged helplessly.

Alistair tipped his head back too. Slippers was still perched on the cliff edge, but he couldn't see Tibby. Where had she gone?

Feast looked like he was about to say something, but closed his mouth again as a voice nearby said, ‘Wouldn't
it be funny if we found them trapped in Dead End Gully?'

A second voice replied sceptically, ‘Did you really hear them, Wilco? I haven't heard a peep.'

‘I heard them – I'm sure of it,' Wilco protested. ‘Come on, it's not much further.'

A surge of panic rose in Alistair's chest. At any moment the Queen's Guards would see them. He had to climb. He had to! Bracing himself against the wall Alistair raised a trembling leg to the rock face opposite. But when he tried to lift his other leg off the ground, his first leg buckled, unable to bear the weight.

He looked at Feast. ‘You have to go without me,' he said quietly.

Feast shook his head. ‘No,' he said. ‘I'm not leaving you.'

‘You have to, Feast,' Alistair said. ‘There's no sense both of us being caught.'

Feast looked uncertain. ‘Alistair, I don't –' He jerked back as something landed on his head. ‘What …?' he said, brushing the thing away. Then his face lit up and he grasped it in both hands. It was a rope, with a doubled line tied in a large loop.

‘Alistair, quick, it's a bosun's chair.'

‘A what?'

But instead of answering Feast dropped the loop over Alistair's head. ‘Sit,' he ordered.

Alistair sat on the loop of rope and almost immediately began to ascend, pulled from above by Slippers and Tibby.

Feast quickly positioned himself between the two rock faces of the crevasse and began to climb the chimney.

They were a little more than halfway up when Alistair saw a flash of red below. The Queen's Guards!

The others must have spotted them too because the rope jerked to a halt and Alistair saw Feast stiffen. They had to keep perfectly still to avoid attracting the attention of the guards.

One, two, three, four of them came to a stop in front of the vertical cliff face.

‘So where are they?' demanded a grey mouse.

Don't look up, don't look up, don't look up
, Alistair willed them.

‘I heard them,' a voice insisted stubbornly. It was Wilco.

‘I hate to state the obvious,' said a sharp voice, ‘but they're not here.'

‘Maybe you did hear them,' the fourth mouse soothed. ‘But perhaps they're in a different part of the canyon and it just sounded like their voices were coming from Dead End Gully.'

‘Didn't we pass the turn-off for Last Chance Gorge a little way back?' the sharp voice asked. ‘Could the voices have been coming from there, Wilco?'

‘I suppose so, Wilma.' Wilco sounded deflated.

The Queen's Guards turned and filed out of the canyon.

For several long minutes no one moved; Feast was still frozen in position, wedged between the two rock faces, while Alistair dangled from the rope, his knees scraping the rock. His neck was itchy beneath his scarf but he didn't dare raise a hand to scratch it.

When the voices of the Queen's Guards could no longer be heard, Feast gave a small grunt and resumed his progress up the chimney. Alistair too began to ascend once more as Slippers and Tibby resumed hauling. In no time, Alistair was sitting on the cliff top looking into their worried faces.

‘How are you feeling?' Tibby asked as she helped him remove his rucksack.

‘Sore,' Alistair confessed. ‘And a bit dizzy. But I'll live.'

There was a groan as Feast heaved himself onto the cliff. He lay panting for a few seconds, his fur damp with sweat. ‘That was close,' he said, when he could speak again. ‘Tibby Rose, where did you learn to tie a knot like that?'

‘It was just a double bowline,' said Tibby. ‘Charlotte Tibby used it when one of her friends fell down a crevasse.'

‘If I ever get to Grouch again,' Feast said, ‘I'm going to put a big bunch of flowers on Charlotte Tibby's grave.' Then he added, ‘But I hope I'm not in Grouch anytime soon.'

‘We can probably see Grouch from here,' Slippers observed.

Alistair, with Tibby's help, got to his feet and looked. The Eugenian Range stretched away in all directions, hard bare rocks with sparse vegetation rising and falling in ridges like the creases in a blanket.

‘I can't see Grouch,' said Tibby, who had wandered off a little way, ‘but look over there.'

They all stared in the direction she indicated. In the distance, just visible behind a series of slopes, was a shimmer of deep blue.

Slippers let out a gasp of delight. ‘It's Lake Eugenia.' She looked at the position of the sun. ‘If we walk until dark tonight, then set out again at daybreak, we should reach the lake by tomorrow afternoon.'

‘And then we're almost to Templeton,' chimed in Tibby Rose. She sounded excited, Alistair thought.

After a quick meal of bread and cheese, washed down with water, they set off again.

Alistair was feeling much better after a rest and, though the afternoon's walking was hard, with many treacherous ascents and descents, he felt energised by the thought of the mission ahead.

That night, they camped on top of a high ridge. After an early dinner – more bread and cheese – Alistair and Tibby took first watch.

‘It's like walking through a maze,' Tibby observed, looking out at the winding canyons, twisting and
turning, some forking, some intersecting and others finishing abruptly in dead ends. ‘Even with a compass it would be impossible to navigate with any accuracy.'

‘If you wanted to see where you'd been you'd have to leave a trail of breadcrumbs, like Hansel and Gretel.'

Tibby shivered. ‘Didn't they almost get eaten by a witch?'

‘Yeah.' Alistair laughed. ‘Do you suppose Queen Eugenia wants to eat us?' Thinking of the power-hungry Queen, he grew serious. ‘I never thought I'd return to Souris,' he said. ‘But it's your home, isn't it, Tib? After everything we've been through, don't you sometimes wish you'd never left?'

‘I don't regret leaving Templeton,' said Tibby Rose. ‘How could I? I've become friends with you and continued the work of my parents. And even though I still don't know much about them, fighting for the cause they believed in makes me feel close to them somehow. But I do miss Grandpa Nelson and Great-Aunt Harriet. I wish I'd been able to say goodbye to them. Especially now that I know they'd been hiding me in order to protect me.'

It was true. Tibby's grandpa and great-aunt had devoted their lives to protecting her, then Alistair had fallen out of the sky and onto her head and changed everything. He felt a pang of guilt imagining the two old mice alone in the big white house on top of a hill, desperately worried about their beloved Tibby Rose. And for the first time
he felt glad to be back in Souris. Alistair had his brother and sister, his parents, his aunt and uncle – three uncles, he realised, now that he knew Zanzibar and Timmy the Winns were his mother's brothers. But apart from those two old mice in Templeton, Tibby was all alone in the world …

They rose early the next day and walked through the blazing sun, the glare of it on the bare rock making Alistair's eyes swim. After hours of squinting, he was relieved to leave the Eugenian Range behind for the more cultivated landscape of fields and vineyards, even if it meant their chances of meeting patrols of Queen's Guards increased. Fortunately, Slippers Pink and Feast Thompson knew of all kinds of small tracks and trails that kept them away from the main roads and the towns and villages that lined Lake Eugenia and then followed the river north to Templeton.

As evening drew in, Alistair was so tired that he felt like he was sleepwalking, but Tibby's pace was growing brisker as they neared Templeton.

‘Alistair,' she said, ‘don't these fields look familiar? I'm sure we sailed past them on our raft.'

‘Maybe,' said Alistair. One field looked much like another to him.

‘That tower,' said Tibby excitedly. ‘It's the bell tower of Templeton, I'm sure it is. Can't you three walk any faster?'

Slippers laughed. ‘You're practically running, Tibby.'

They had just reached the outskirts of Templeton when a small brown mouse stepped into their path.

‘Excuse me,' he said shyly. ‘Are you Slippers Pink?'

‘That's a funny name,' said Slippers. Alistair noticed that she hadn't answered the young boy's question.

‘I know,' said the boy. ‘The owl told me to look for a pale mouse with big black boots but then he said her name was Slippers Pink. And I said that her name should be Boots Black.'

Slippers smiled. ‘What else did the owl say?'

‘He said that if I saw Slippers Pink I should give her this note.' He held out a slightly grubby note, and Slippers took it. ‘And he said he was sorry he couldn't wait for you, but you'd have to make your own way there.'

‘Make our own way where?' Slippers raised an eyebrow. ‘We've just got here.'

The small brown mouse shrugged. ‘I don't know. You asked me what the owl said so I told you.'

‘Well, thanks,' Slippers called as the small mouse scampered off.

Shaking her head in bemusement she unfolded the note and began to read. The expression on her face changed rapidly from curiosity to shock; she rocked back on her heels as if reeling from a blow.

‘Oh no.'

‘What?' said Feast.

‘Oh no, no, no.'

‘Slippers, what is it?' Feast demanded.

Wordlessly she handed him the note, swaying slightly as if she might lose her balance.

Feast Thompson's face was grim as he read the note then crumpled the piece of paper in his fist. ‘Of all the dirty double-crossing …' He ran a hand over his face then looked at Alistair and Tibby Rose. ‘The president of Shetlock struck a secret deal with the Sourians,' he growled.

‘That's terrible,' Tibby gasped.

‘It gets worse,' Feast told her. He was breathing heavily, as if struggling to control his rage.

‘How could it be worse?' said Alistair.

It was Slippers who answered him, her eyes blazing as she announced: ‘The Queen's Guards were waiting. Zanzibar has been recaptured!'

‘Alex!' Alice shrieked at the spot where her brother had disappeared.

The water was still now, and Alice wondered whether it was possible she had imagined that glimpse of Alex's nose, that horrible gurgle.

But the desperation in Solomon's voice as he said, ‘Alice, we need to find a long stick –
now
,' told her she hadn't. Solomon was rummaging in the rotting wood and leaf litter, but despite his exhortations Alice was frozen near the spot where her brother had been. ‘Solomon, I can't see him.' Her voice quavered, her throat thick with tears. She could feel the panic rising in her chest. ‘Please,' she begged, ‘do something.
Hurry!
'

‘Here.' Solomon was at her side holding a long slender branch, still green, which he carefully extended into the quicksand. He moved it carefully around, then stopped. ‘There he is,' he muttered to himself, then urged, ‘grab
the stick, Alex. Come on … That's it – he's got it!' As Solomon began to pull the stick out of the water, a strange swamp monster emerged.

Alex lay on the muddy ground, alternately drawing long, ragged breaths and spitting sand from his mouth. His white fur was coated in thick brown mud.

Alice took off her rucksack and dug inside it for her water bottle. She dropped to her knees beside her brother and handed it to him.

He rinsed out his mouth then took several long swigs. ‘Thanks, sis,' he said hoarsely, then looked up at Solomon. ‘And thank you for saving me.'

‘Don't mention it,' said Solomon. ‘I don't want to be responsible for losing the future king of Gerander, do I?'

Alex managed a weak laugh.

‘Quicksand,' Solomon said, shaking his head ruefully. ‘And I thought we had enough to worry about with the snakes.'

As he spoke Alice glanced at the trees pressing in around them. Were those thick green vines around the trunks moving? Was that fallen branch lying across the path really lying in wait for them to pass? The whole swamp seemed to be alive, undulating.

‘Let's go,' she suggested nervously.

‘Stay close to me,' Solomon told them. ‘I'll prod the ground ahead of me for snakes and quicksand, so try to walk where I walk.'

They set off again, Solomon in front testing the ground with his stick, a subdued Alex behind him, and Alice bringing up the rear.

They walked in this way for some hours. The forest grew darker and denser, the trickle of green light from above grew dim and, finally, when they could barely make out the path, Solomon said, ‘We'd better find a place to camp for the night.'

A few minutes later, he stopped. ‘This poor excuse for a clearing will have to do.' He took off his rucksack and Alex and Alice did the same, looking around.

Solomon was right: it was a poor excuse for a clearing. The patch of marshy ground was barely wide enough for three mice to lie down; the encroaching vines were kept at bay by a fallen tree trunk.

The idea of passing the night in this dreadful place filled Alice with horror – the only thing more horrible, she decided, would be stumbling through the swamp in the dark, unable to see where you were putting your feet: in quicksand; in a smelly, stagnant puddle; in a writhing nest of snakes … The image of a writhing nest of snakes caused her to tremble.

Solomon Honker must have noticed, because he said, ‘Cold, Alice? I'll light a fire.'

But after several minutes trying to coax damp wood on damp ground to kindle with the aid of damp leaves, he gave up. ‘It's no use,' he said in frustration.

‘I bet Tibby Rose would know how to light a fire in a swamp,' Alex said to Alice in a low voice.

Alice nodded. ‘I wonder where Tibby and Alistair are right now? I can't believe they've gone back to Souris.'

‘Even Souris would have to be better than this,' Alex observed, as the malevolent-sounding cackle of a strange bird in the tree tops made them jump.

They pulled fruit and cheese and hunks of bread out of their rucksacks and ate dinner in silence, sitting on the rotten log. The heavy brooding atmosphere was broken by whispering and rustlings in the canopy.

‘You two try to get some sleep,' Solomon suggested. ‘I'll take first watch.'

‘But if there are no Queen's Guards, we don't need a lookout, do we?' Alex said.

‘Snakes,' Solomon reminded him, picking up his stick and holding it ready in both hands.

Alex gulped. ‘Wake me when it's my turn,' he said.

Alice and her brother lay on the moist ground beside the log. What with the discomfort of the damp and the strange sounds, Alice thought she'd never get to sleep, and she was right. As the long night wore on, through Solomon's watch, her own and then Alex's, her thoughts grew more and more gloomy. Their mission, which had earlier inspired her with optimism and determination, now seemed doomed. All it would take would be for one guard in Cornoliana to recognise them from their previous visit and they'd be caught and thrown in the
dungeon. At least that'd mean company for the young mouse already in the dungeon, she thought, wincing at the pang of guilt she felt. She knew, really, that they'd had no choice but to leave him behind when they fled the palace, but still … if she was honest, she'd barely given that other mouse a second thought until they were safely away from the palace. She'd been too intent on saving her own skin, on getting as far away from Sophia and Horace as she could.

She rolled over, the ground beneath her making a squelching sound. That was one good thing about this swamp, she reminded herself: there might be mud and quicksand and snakes galore, but there was no Sophia.

And so passed the longest night of Alice's life, full of dismal thoughts and dark forebodings that were only partially dispelled by the dawn. She suspected that neither Solomon nor her brother had slept much either since both were wide awake and eager to get going as the first rays of watery green light crept through the canopy.

They resumed walking immediately, eating apples for breakfast as they went, all keen to cross the swamp as quickly as possible.

When Alice first saw a movement out of the corner of her eye she presumed it was a snake. But when she turned to see, there was nothing. No movement, no snake.

It must have been the play of light in the leaves, she told herself.

Yet even though there was nothing there, as she faced
forward again she had the sensation that someone – or something – was watching her. It made her shoulder blades tingle beneath her rucksack.

She knew it was just that her nerves were on edge now, and she tried to calm herself with slow, deep breaths. She focused on what was real: the
squelch, squelch
of their footsteps in the thick mud, the
plish, plish
of Solomon's stick hitting the water as he thrust it ahead of him, testing the ground for quicksand. But was that a squelching
behind
her?

She whirled around, and this time she caught a distinct movement.

‘Solomon?' Alice's throat was dry. ‘I think there's someone following us.'

‘What?' Solomon stopped. ‘That's impossible. No one comes here.'

‘I saw something move,' Alice insisted, pointing.

‘Maybe it was a snake,' Alex suggested, then shivered.

Alice shook her head. ‘It wasn't a snake.'

Solomon stared in the direction in which Alice had pointed. ‘Show yourself,' he ordered in a deep, authoritative tone. His voice echoed around the enclosed space.

At first nothing happened and Solomon had started to turn away when a terrible apparition leapt onto the path.

Alice screamed in terror.

Green and slimy, it seemed to be all heads and limbs, thrashing wildly. It was like something out of a nightmare, and, as if she was in a nightmare, Alice's legs were frozen.
Trembling, she could only watch, whimpering, as the monstrous creature drew nearer and nearer.

Solomon held up his stick and barked, ‘That's far enough.' Although he sounded firm, Alice detected a tremor in his voice.

The creature stopped – and yet it still seemed to be moving, Alice noticed in horror, her hands pressed to her mouth to stifle her cry. It was, she saw now, not a single creature, but a shaggy wild-eyed mouse, draped in moss from head to toe and dripping with slimy weeds, accompanied by two snakes, one on either side. They towered above him, writhing in a hideous dance, swaying their heads as if to some strange music only they could hear.

‘Who are you?' Solomon demanded, brandishing the stick threateningly.

‘
Sssssnake Moussssse
,' the wild-eyed mouse hissed in a low rasp.

Alice heard Alex inhale sharply as the snakes hissed too.

Snake Mouse took a step forward and his serpent companions moved with him. They seemed to be completely in his thrall.

‘Leave thissss placccce,' he hissed. The snakes, flicking their tongues, twisted towards the three mice frozen to the spot in front of them, eyes glinting.

‘We –' Solomon began.

Snake Mouse moved a step closer. ‘
Leave thissss placccce!
'

Solomon dropped his stick and Alice let out an involuntary squeak.

‘Uh, I think we should leave this place,' said Alex.

‘Yes,' said Solomon. ‘That might be a good idea.'

The three of them backed away, slowly at first.

Snake Mouse oozed forward, his moss-covered arms raised, and the snakes reared up. ‘Leeeave!' he shrieked, and brought his arms down with a snap. As the snakes moved to strike, Solomon yelled, ‘Run!'

Alice had no problems moving her legs now and fled after Solomon and her brother, her heart pumping.

‘What about quicksand?' Alice gasped as Alex stumbled in front of her.

‘I'd rather get dragged under by quicksand again than caught by that … that
monster
,' Alex called over his shoulder.

Alice was surprised to see that as they blundered through the swamp they seemed to startle the very things that had so scared her before. Giant snakes wriggled out of their path; the cries in the trees sounded like cries of alarm rather than menace.

Her breathing was growing ragged and her legs tired when she heard Solomon's voice behind her say, ‘It's okay. I think we've done it.'

‘We've outrun him?' Alice gasped, slowing to a stop though her heart still galloped in her chest.

‘Outrun him
and
crossed the swamp,' Solomon said.

Sure enough, when Alice looked ahead she saw that the trees were thinning and there was a glow of light beyond them.

‘Sunlight,' Solomon confirmed when she gave him a questioning look.

Alex cast a wary look over his shoulder. ‘Who – or what – is Snake Mouse?' he asked. ‘That was seriously creepy.'

‘I'd heard rumours of a mad mouse living in the swamp,' Solomon said. ‘But I thought they were just stories made up to scare kids out of exploring there.'

‘I promise never to go exploring there,' Alex muttered.

With a renewed sense of purpose they strode out of the swamp and into a grassy field, and from there onto a dry road. The heat from the road warmed Alice's feet and the sun dried her fur. And it seemed her gloom, too, was dissolving as her mood brightened, buoyed by the cloudless blue sky and the smell of cut hay.

 

They had been walking in companionable silence for several hours, the river at their right gurgling a restful song with the occasional bird singing along. To Alice's relief, they'd had no encounters with Queen's Guards – no encounters with anyone, in fact, though they had sometimes glimpsed a farmer in a distant field. It seemed that they might keep on in this pleasant manner all the way to Cornoliana, so Alice was startled to hear Solomon Honker say, ‘Hold on a minute, Alice.'

He had stopped by a milestone at a fork in the road and was studying it intently. Then, as Alice
watched, he reached out and rubbed at a smudge on the pale stone.

‘This is where we part ways, kids.' He pointed to the road they had been travelling along. ‘If you keep heading north, you'll reach the gates of the city by late afternoon.'

‘Wait,' said Alice, ‘I don't understand. Aren't you coming with us?'

‘No,' said Solomon. ‘I've got other business to take care of.' And just like that, he raised a hand in farewell and strode off along the road winding away to the west.

Alice and Alex stood in stunned silence, watching him go. Within a few minutes he was just a speck in the distance.

‘That was strange,' Alex commented. ‘Was there something written on the milestone, do you think?' He turned to examine the stone.

Alice shook her head. ‘I don't know. If there was, he rubbed it off. I wonder what he meant by “other business”?' She was reminded again how little they really knew about the mysterious double agent.

‘Secret spy stuff, I suppose,' said Alex.

Alice was still staring down the road Solomon had taken, her hands on her hips. Now that her initial surprise at Solomon's sudden departure was wearing off, she was growing more and more uneasy. ‘I thought he was taking us all the way to Cornoliana, though. I'm sure that's what Slippers said. What should we do now?'

‘We do what Solomon said and follow the road north to Cornoliana.' Alex sounded impatient. ‘Come on, sis, let's get moving – we're on a mission, remember.'

Alice fell into step beside her brother, still pensive. ‘Alex, you do realise our mission has just got a whole lot harder, don't you?'

‘Huh?'

‘For example, we don't even have a plan for getting into the city. How are we going to get through the gates? Last time we had that forged letter saying we were Sourian orphans. This time we don't have anything. The Queen's Guards will never let us in.'

Now Alex had stopped walking. ‘Yeah,' he said, nodding slowly. ‘That's a problem.'