Clearheart Read online

  ‘The Clearheart will be mine within the week,’ the Duke said to no-one in particular, stepping across a brilliant white floor covered in richly hand-woven rugs. The clean, crisp whiteness beneath him stretched up to walls of similar hue, decorated with the darker paintings of the masters. Bosch, Brueghel, Goya, Picasso. They were on loan from his new allies. In alcoves carved into the crystalline surface between the paintings sat bowls of sugary delicacies. Delicacies that the Duke commended himself on being able to resist. Wine gums. Pastilles. Chewy mints. Turkish delight. Chocolate drops. ‘Fear will keep her in check meanwhile,’ he said, peering into the great wooden bowl of water out of which he had appeared. It was set upon a sculptured dais that rose out of the floor beside two other daises. One of these held a large wooden bowl of water, just like the first. Upon the other rested a translucent bubble.

  The Duke tapped his finger on the water’s silvery skin. The round face of Saul, ex-Co-Chairman of the Flitterwig Rooniun, appeared. He raised a bushy eyebrow, a facial movement that made one of his protruding cauliflower ears waggle and the deep clefts in his forehead disappear into the nest upon his head. The Gnome Flitterwig tugged at one of the many hairs growing out of his nostrils.

  ‘Yes?’ he said gruffly. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I want to thank you,’ said the Duke, tapping his claws on the sides of the wooden bowl. ‘The child you suggested was an easy victim. Most receptive to Possessification. I shall use her again while I am building my strength back up, enjoy a few practice runs before I make my move.’

  ‘Well, be careful,’ said Saul. ‘There are white elves from your wife’s personal army stationed about the school guarding Ella. And Ella’s Protector is with her too. That Charlie Snoppit boy. Not that he is much use—too busy talking to the animals. Samuel Happenstance, my former co-Chair at the Rooniun, and the headmistress are on full alert also. Until the Magicals or the Flitterwigs find you, they are keeping Ella under watch at all times. Although I think we are managing to keep the white elves sufficiently Trogglified to ensure they aren’t doing a terribly good job of it. Not easy to do, as they are fairly wary. But we have our ways. Naturally, our people are not feeding them enough sugar for the evidence to be obvious. No physical symptoms as yet. But enough for them to be less than alert.’

  ‘Perfect,’ said the Duke. ‘They will never find me,’ he said. ‘Not here, not within my new Dome of Inconspicuous Impenetration. Now, how are our new Flitterwig friends adapting?’ he asked.

  ‘Just fine,’ said Saul. ‘They are on board completely. They will expect their kind to be part of your Royal Court once you overtake Magus, of course.’

  ‘Of course,’ said the Duke.

  chapter 3

  spirits & space

  Ella stood quietly in the driveway of Hedgeberry School of Flitterwiggery, one of the few quiet places she could find in this crazy school. Since the beginning of term, she had seen no-one come and go conventionally using the driveway, although she had caught a few Flitterwigs skateboarding along it on occasion. She took a deep breath and dug her hands deep into her dungaree pockets. She could feel Dixon there, snoring contentedly. He had exhausted himself earlier, worrying about her fall from the cloud. She looked up at the building that was her new home, her hair floating out behind her. The school was stately and old and huge and imposing. There were rows of windows. There were two turrets that rose high up into the grey English sky, and a sunrise of roses grew in wild abandon up their walls. The steps to an entrance on the right were peppered with tiny white flowers. And through an arch in the middle of the building she could see gardens that stretched out forever, wild and blossoming and alive with colour.

  Ella wandered over to the entrance and peered in, enjoying this moment of quiet. Although the ceilings were high and the walls regal, they were painted in the warmest colours. One terracotta red, another salmon pink, yet another mustard yellow, beside another faded autumn green. Every surface was different, a patchwork hotchpotch of pigments. She looked through a window to the common room, dotted with beanbags covered in colourful striped French cotton and big, bold prints. Every item of furniture was made of natural fibres. There didn’t seem to be a piece of plastic anywhere.

  Ella needed some time out. She found the multitude of people and goings-on at Hedgeberry exhausting. She’d never been to school before this term. Instead she had learned at home with a tutor, Mrs Dribbleton-Faucet, who was known as Dribbles, on account of her unfortunate inability to keep spittle in her mouth. Ella’s grandparents had kept her from the world. Partly because she looked so strange, with her pointed ears, her hair that grew too fast, her skin so pale it was almost translucent and her too-green eyes; and partly to protect her and keep her safe after the tragic loss of her mother and brothers in a dastardly car accident. So school and lots of other children were a bit of a braindrain!

  She stepped back into the driveway and pulled her skateboard out of her backpack. Setting her right foot upon it, she pushed off along a path towards the outhouse. Hedgeberry was littered with paths, vert ramps and quarter pipes. Skateboarding being the official sport of Hedgeberry, the grounds were full of perfect surfaces upon which to practise the respected sport. Ella sped masterfully along a bending trail. She wished her wings worked to help her manage the bends and jump the crests she saw other Flitterwigs conquer with far more skill than she. Some Flitterwigs used their speed, others the movement of the air and the wind, and others, like her, their wings, to balance them and to thrust them forwards. Flying was forbidden when skateboarding, of course, but Ella wished she had the dexterity those appendages afforded others so that she could move as gracefully as they did.

  Which is not to say that Ella was not a naturally magnificent skateboarder anyway. Within minutes, she was away from the great building and speeding downhill.

  As soon as she felt the world of Hedgeberry disappear behind her, trees and hedges and grassy patches filling the space, she skidded to a stop and set herself down beneath an old oak tree. The solid strength of the aged tree settled her. It felt safe here. This was the only spot she knew where she could be alone with her thoughts. Sometimes she imagined that the breeze in the leaves of the old oak whispered to her. ‘Asquemi, asquemi,’ it seemed to say. She found the sound soothing, if incomprehensible.

  Ella looked out across the grounds of Hedgeberry and sighed. She was surrounded by red poppies. Some grew in wild abandon, but clumps of them wound out in a broken order that made her catch her breath. Ella had done a lot of gardening with Granny and Grandpa. Her grandparents were keen and excellent gardeners. But never before had she seen such unkempt order in nature. Right now she was sitting near a most impressive herb garden. She could smell the rosemary growing in thick clumps wafting across the poppies, for Ella’s sense of smell was powerful. She could smell thyme too, great fat bushes of it, beside the rosemary. And if her memory served, there were long, rich bunches of chives, much denser than any she had smelt before, spreading out beyond the thyme. And dill, and—goodness only knew how in the English weather—basil and marjoram and mint. Gosh, was that coriander she could smell beyond that? Granny had told her it wasn’t even worth trying to grow coriander in English soil. Ella breathed in the scent of the plants about her, the woody strength of the oak tree sheltering her. The smells calmed her, as pleasant, natural smells always did.

  Whichever way she looked, there were wonders growing. When she looked east, she saw a vegetable garden, perfectly sewn, making patterns in the soil. To the west were flowers, some she recognised, including some that shouldn’t have been growing in autumn, never mind in England. Lilies, geraniums, bluebells. It was surprising. She sat back down in the wet earth by the oak tree in wonder. This was a very interesting place indeed.

  Her moment of quiet was short-lived however, for Ella could see three girls gliding briskly towards her on their skateboards.

  ‘Oh no,’ she groaned, as she made out the forms of Gloria Ulnus, Olive Pumpernickle and Annie Squirm
er. She felt Dixon stretching his arms out in her pocket. The oak tree ceased its whispering. She wished Gloria would just leave her alone.

  As Dixon popped his head out of Ella’s pocket with a cheerful, ‘Hello, blow, mow, ho,’ Gloria pulled up before her. Dixon was astride Ella’s lap in an instant, his hands on his hips and his face set in a ferocious (for a pixie) frown.

  ‘Go away, you smelly old moo you. Rhymes with poo,’ the pixie said, falling about laughing at once, for he loved the poo word.

  Gloria flipped her silver skateboard into her arm smoothly and put her other hand on her hip. She turned her ratty nose up. ‘Shut up,’ she spat at Dixon, who was so affronted he covered his face at once and went into some sort of astounded freeze. ‘What are you doing out here?’ she asked Ella. Olive Pumpernickle and Annie Squirmer pulled their boards up too and placed their free hands on their hips. Ella almost wanted to laugh, the girls looked so silly copying their leader.

  ‘Just sitting,’ said Ella, looking up at Gloria, her eyes clear as emeralds.

  ‘You can see the tree, can’t you?’ said Gloria.

  ‘This one?’ said Ella, looking up at the old oak.

  ‘Yes, duh,’ said Gloria, putting her tongue under her bottom lip and squinting her eyes at Ella as if she thought the girl was a total moron. Olive and Annie looked about blindly. Not being Dryad Flitterwigs, they couldn’t see what Gloria was talking about. For the tree Ella and Gloria could see was a Spirit Tree, supposedly visible only to those of dryad heritage. Olive and Annie rolled up their tongues under their bottom lips and squinted their eyes anyway, for effect. Dixon, who had overcome his shock, started jumping up and down on Ella’s lap, yelling whatever rude words he could think of.

  ‘Go away you pee, poo, farty, moos you,’ he hollered. ‘Leave us alone, old groany, moany, smelly ponies,’ he yelled. Gloria pulled her skateboard from under her arm and swatted the pixie away with a great swipe of it. Dixon was sent flying.

  ‘How dare you!’ said Ella, jumping up, her hair flaring about her and her eyes shining sharply.

  ‘I don’t even know what you’re doing with a Magical here at school anyway. Wasn’t even legal until about a minute ago. Stay away from my tree, or I’ll tell the teachers about the pixie,’ Gloria threatened.

  ‘But why would you do such a thing?’ asked Ella. She gathered Dixon up in her hands and tucked the moaning pixie into her hoodie pocket for protection. It was quite beyond her that a Flitterwig could be so mean.

  ‘Just stay away from my tree,’ hissed Gloria, picking up Ella’s skateboard and flinging it into the bushes for no good reason at all. Olive and Annie clapped their hands with glee and, hearing the bluebells ring, gave Ella a smirk and followed Gloria back up to the school. Ella could not for the life of her understand what would make people behave so stupidly. She watched them skate away, laughing uproariously to themselves, as though something funny had happened. She shook her head.

  ‘Are you okay, Dixon?’ she asked, pulling her friend out of her pocket. Tiny birds circled around his head.

  ‘I am if you are?’ he answered, his voice woozy. Then he collapsed back into her pocket in a swoon.

  chapter 4

  water & wanderings

  Gloria Ulnus stood shivering in the crisp autumn air, waiting in line with the rest of the Portality class. In spite of the cold, they stood on the edge of a stream near a small waterfall, wearing their swimming costumes. Flitterwigs have a fair resistance to the cold, but even so, it was pretty chilly. She was trying to figure out what had happened to her yesterday in the cloud during Aeronortics.

  Gloria Ulnus hated Ella. Of course she did. And it was of the utmost importance to Gloria that Ella not make it to the Skateboarding finals. Of course it was. For Ella Montgomery, who had only started at Hedgeberry this term, was far too swift on a skateboard for a Flitterwig who couldn’t fly. She was elf, for Magic’s sake. Elven Flitterwigs are not supposed to be as swift on a skateboard as she was without her wings. But Ella’s affinity with nature in general was confounding. She seemed to flow with the wind and catch the breeze in the trees in a way that was quite unusual for her kind. So it was of utmost importance that Ella not find her wings, or she would be at a distinct advantage.

  But that did not explain why Gloria had pushed Ella off the cloud yesterday. She had meant simply to frighten her. What had happened after that was a mystery, even to her. It was as if she hadn’t been herself, as if she had lost all her senses, as if there had been someone else around her, maybe even inside her. It made Gloria very uncomfortable indeed.

  A few hundred metres away, a skinny little student popped up out of the stream in his swimming trunks, forcing Gloria from her ruminations. His entire body was covered in freckles and his ears stuck out like funnels. He was wearing a big pair of red spectacles on his snubby little nose and a shock of white hair stuck out from his head as if he had just been electrocuted. A small frog disappeared down the back of the boy’s swimming trunks. It was Charlie Snoppit and his froggy friend, Harold.

  ‘I’ve lost her,’ he yelled.

  Mr Frollick, the Portality and Mirrority instructor, and a Marshlin Flitterwig, raced over to the boy, his reedy frame tucked into the tightest T-shirt and shortest shorts imaginable.

  ‘What do you mean you’ve lost her?’ the teacher shouted, his knobbly knees knocking together passionately. ‘All you had to do was tweak your ear and say the spell, dive into the stream and up you should pop a little further along! Did you mess with the rules, you naughty things?’

  ‘Of course we didn’t!’ said Charlie, grabbing a handful of pussy willow from the ground next to the stream, tweaking his ear and passing it over himself. This Goblin Protector business was awfully hard work, especially with a Protectee as unreliable as his own. The pussy willow absorbed most of the liquid from his body at once. ‘One minute I was holding her hand as we jumped in by the waterfall, the next we were whirling through the Waters, then I couldn’t hold her hand anymore, and now here I am, without her!’ Charlie’s teeth began to chatter.

  Mr Frollick was hoicking his tight top over his bald head and running to the stream, his face set in a tight squeeze of concern. This was a simple exercise in Portality, designed to get the children used to travelling through water, the fastest way for Flitterwigs to travel long distances. It was almost impossible for the exercise to go wrong. The simple spell he had taught the children should have drawn them to the closest available Waterway, a few hundred metres further along! Mr Frollick tweaked his ear, muttered a spell and dove into the stream. Seconds later he appeared at the same spot as Charlie. He hadn’t seen her anywhere. The poor teacher scrubbed his poky face in horror as he climbed out of the stream. In all his years teaching at Hedgeberry, this had never happened to him before. He picked his whistle up from where he had dropped his clothes, and tweaking his ear, Personified it.

  ‘Go to the office and tell Ms Wheelbarrow I need her at once,’ he instructed the whistle, who had grown arms, legs, wings, eyes, a nose and a mouth. The whistle saluted the Marshlin Flitterwig and flew off in a trice.

  A splashing sound in the stream drew his attention. Everyone turned to the sound. Ella appeared, her hair flaring wildly, in spite of how wet it was. Her green eyes sparkled excitedly.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, all eyes upon her. A strong smell of cinnamon and oranges emanated from her. She quickly squished Dixon, who had been in her hand, down the back of her swimming costume. ‘Anyone seen Charlie?’

  There was a splash and a splish and a rather indecorous slurpy sound of water sucking. Everyone turned again. The imposing figure of Annie Wheelbarrow, Hedgeberry’s long-serving headmistress (and a Dryad Flitterwig), thrust up out of the waterfall. She was an extremely tall gentlewoman, at least sixty-five years old, with long grey hair held in a low, messy, wet ponytail down her back. Her many-coloured skirts, frayed army jacket and pink and white striped top were plastered to her body, and she wore an awful lot of large, colourful rings, one of whic
h matched the startling ruby earrings that dangled from her droopy lobes. She hauled herself out of the stream, took off a pair of wellington boots and emptied the water from them.

  ‘That was quick!’ said Mr Frollick. ‘Did the whistle reach you already?’ Ms Wheelbarrow looked at him, confused. For she had not received any message from a whistle. Oh no. She had been informed of Ella’s absence by a white elf. A pure Magical. Fancy that! Such behaviour had been illegal until a couple of months ago. A rather dizzy white elf, it had to be said, but still.

  ‘Come with me, Ella,’ said Ms Wheelbarrow smartly, marching past Mr Frollick back towards the main building. She grabbed a branch of pussy willow as she went, tweaked her ear and passed it over her body to dry herself off.

  As Ella followed her, a disgruntled-looking whistle flew past her ear muttering to itself. ‘Just waste my time why don’t you… who needs a whistle after all… yes, don’t mind me…’

  In her office, Ms Wheelbarrow motioned for Ella to sit on a deep, much used, brown corduroy sofa. Ella sat and found herself looking out the window at a vista of wildflowers that would take even the most unwilling naturalist’s breath away. Ms Wheelbarrow sat herself down beside Ella and took the girl’s hands firmly in hers. Ella sort of wanted to pull them away, for she still wasn’t used to being touched that much, apart from Dixon dangling all over her. But Dixon was different. He was her best friend. She felt the pixie squirm down the back of her swimsuit and wished she had had time to put some clothes on before she’d come to the office. She trusted him to stay hidden. He seemed to know that their friendship would draw unwanted attention. After all, it had been forbidden for pure Magicals and Flitterwigs to communicate with each other until very recently. The teachers would be most suspicious if they found out that Ella’s best friend was actually a pure Magical.