Clearheart Read online

  And then, out of nowhere, a tiny, wee alarm clock appeared. It flung itself at Ella’s neck, swerving around the folds of her big puffy anorak, and tried to throttle her. It flung her back and forth with such force that her hood fell off, exposing her to the heat from the sun.

  ‘RRRRREMEMBER ME?’ the alarm clock trilled, its voice ringing in Ella’s ears.

  ‘This means we don’t have much time!’ yelled Ella, as the alarm clock strangled her. ‘Rhymes with lime,’ she said, echoing Dixon’s words to her months ago, when he had been throttled by just such an alarm clock for not getting on with things as quickly as he should.

  The memory spun through Ella’s body like a charm, reminding her of love and togetherness and connectedness and laughter. Dixon’s silly rhyme passing so simply through her lips tapped some source within her. Her hair flared up, her shoulderblades began to itch, and suddenly the blankness in her head was gone. The words Don Posiblemente had given her rose up in her mind like a wave of hope. Without a moment’s hesitation she let them out.

  ‘Was big was big was great was swell

  Beneath the crust in nature’s dell

  And tiny, tiny, small and sweet

  Air-bound, gentle, chic, petite.

  Great, massive, growing, blown

  Against the mini undertones.

  Piccolo, piccolo, suave, shhh.

  Grander, louder, roar, groan.

  Somewhere crashing, banging, clink.

  The big, the grey, the small, the pink.

  But I am middle, I am mean.

  Moderate and unforseen.

  Really nothing, but so much.

  Come to bridge extreme with touch.’

  Ella reached out her hand and passed it softly, as Don Posiblemente had instructed her, across the silver-grey of the Great Gum’s bark, wondering at the brilliance of her own memory. An energy, powerful as a shot of electricity, passed from her hand into the trunk of the tree, causing it to shudder perceptibly.

  ‘Wake up, ‘ she whispered, and held her breath.

  Charlie looked at the tiny, wee alarm clock and watched as it ticked, bomb-like, dramatically throwing itself about in the sand, through an interminable minute.

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  Ella looked at Charlie, Charlie looked at Ella. They both shrugged. What else could they do?

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  Harold lost it. The tension was too much. He began to croak like a wild frog. Charlie covered Harold’s mouth and took a deep breath.

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  The sand began to shudder beneath them, and then went still.

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  Ella and Charlie hardly dared breathe.

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  And then the earth erupted. The dusty plain began to whirl and swirl and fill the children’s mouths and noses with sand. They closed their eyes against the spitting and flying and spinning of pulverised stones. They hid their heads deep inside their hoods and crouched down as the ground underneath them heaved and moved and flung them up into the air and back down again.

  What had Ella done?

  It went on forever. The swell of sand in the air turned the hot, dry sky black, and if she had been able to open her eyes she would have seen the Great Gum sway and tilt. But while she couldn’t open her eyes, she could hear the groan and the roar and the wild shhhhhhhhhhhhh of the ground moving beneath her. She could smell peat and metal and fire through the eucalyptus tang of the gum tree and the minty wetness of the dewdrops and the chalky incense of the sand.

  And then the earth was still while the elements still swirled above it. But from her cocoon, curled up inside her cool anorak, she felt the sand fall and the beating pulse of the heat settle back into the land around her. Once she had cleared most of the sand from her eyes, Ella opened them carefully. She almost wished she hadn’t, for what she saw could not possibly have been real, and if it was, she didn’t want to know about it.

  But Charlie saw it too. And so did Harold, as he spat sand from his mouth and unfurled his long froggy tongue to try to unclog his throat.

  The sight was little short of spectacular. What they saw were five toes, the size of barrels, wriggling up out of the earth, finding feeling in the air, enjoying the light and the warmth of freedom. And attached to those five great toes was a foot, and a mammoth leg, bending and stretching, grey and white, shining silver at the knee, spraying soil and sand in every direction as it emerged. Then a hand the size of a car reached up out of the ground, its enormous fingers pounding on the dusty plain to get the tingles of inactivity out. The hand was followed by a shoulder, attached to a body so big it beggared belief. It was as solid as an island. And upon that body a head, a massive boulder, bald as an eagle, covered by a worn, old beanie, with great, round, sleepy, sad eyes and a behemoth of a squished nose and fat, full, round lips.

  ‘Woooooooooow,’ said Charlie.

  Ella was about to second that opinion when the hand scooped her and Charlie up and, like a scary ride at a fairground, swept them high into the air. Charlie couldn’t believe it. He was being swept into the air by a blinking enormous hand! Ella’s tummy did a loop-the-loop and she shut her eyes against the crunch that would surely come when the giant mouth she was approaching ingested her like a peanut.

  ‘You called?’ the mouth boomed. Ella and Charlie were flung back against the Giant’s fingers in the wake of his breath. A pair of huge, questioning eyes stared gently at them, as though examining a couple of shells gathered at the seaside.

  Now normally, if you were flung against a Giant’s fingers in the wake of his breath, the usual response would be to say nothing and keep very still.

  But Ella saw something in the Giant’s eyes. A sadness and a loneliness that, on account of the very size of the Giant’s gaze making it ever so hard to ignore, compelled her to step forward and speak up. And speak up she did.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, ‘I’m the Clearheart, Ella Montgomery.’ Don Posiblemente had told her not to mince words. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ She wasn’t sure if the giant would be able to hear her tiny voice from inside her oversized stripy jacket, but what else was she supposed to do?

  The Giant’s ears were as big as the rest of him, however, and his hearing was exceptional. ‘The Clearheart?’ he boomed, his breath flinging Ella back against his fingers again. ‘How dare you!’ he boomed. ‘The Clearheart is dead!’ The Giant peered at her closely. ‘Although you do look very much like her,’ he rumbled. ‘If somewhat shorter.’

  Once Ella had righted herself, she stepped forward again. ‘I’m the next one, apparently,’ she said, her voice trembling a little.

  The Giant let out a belly laugh that made his hand shake so much that Charlie and Ella were flung up into the air. Had he not caught them before they fell they would surely have perished.

  ‘You are as unassuming as Sarafina was,’ said the Giant ruefully. And then he began to cry. ‘Ah, Sarafina, beautiful Clearheart,’ he sobbed. Huge, wet, languid tears as would fill a swimming pool in a minute. Ella was glad she was in his hand and not on the suddenly sodden plain below. She wasn’t really sure what to say to calm him down, so she just said what was in her heart.

  ‘I’ve lost my best friend, who’s a pixie, and I thought you might be able to help me find him,’ she spluttered all at once.

  The Giant’s tears stopped and his eyes bulged.

  ‘Uh oh, I think you’ve made him cross,’ said
Charlie from his super-secure perch inside of one of the giant’s knuckles. This, it seemed, was the understatement of the year.

  A Giant’s growl is something you wouldn’t normally hear. But if he were to utter a growl of anger in the place you live, it would rattle all the buildings and make the authorities think there was a tornado on the way.

  The very mention of the word ‘pixie’ must have reminded the Giant of Magicals. The memory sent him into a rage. He crushed Ella and Charlie in his palm and raged across the plain. Some folk in a large town on the coast said they heard thunder from the plain, but Ella and Charlie knew better.

  Ella and Charlie endured the ride of a lifetime. Clutched in the giant’s fist, they were launched high into the sky and driven down just as fast as they rose. A giant fist shaking itself in anger is a pretty potty experience indeed, no matter whether you are eleven, or eight or nine or ninety-three.

  But once he had settled, the Giant sat down in the wet spot on the plain next to the gaping hole he had appeared from, and started crying again.

  It had been days now since Ella had seen Dixon, however, and while she was pretty scared of the Giant, she was more scared still of not finding Dixon again. She knew she was going to have to reach out to the Giant somehow, and quickly.

  She took a deep breath and, as soon as Thomas had calmed a little, she stepped forward and spoke again.

  chapter 15

  pleas & promises

  ‘Can you help me find him?’ Ella asked gently, wishing she had a giant hanky to offer him, for his nose was running.

  ‘I should hope so,’ the Giant boomed, sniffing in deeply and sucking the snot up his nose, a green waterfall rushing backwards. ‘For you have just managed to wake me from my slumber under the Earth, and that is nigh on impossible. You just made the Great Gum of Gommoronahl raise me from sleep. But why should I help a Magical?’ As he said the word ‘Magical’ his bottom lip began to tremble. Ella thought it best to pipe up before he started crying again.

  ‘Well,’ said Ella hurriedly, ‘I know your story. I know that you had a terrible falling out with the M—the you-know-whats. And I know you feel you were wronged. Is this not as good a time as any to clear your name, if you are innocent?’ She had no idea what made her say such bold and wise words. She felt like clapping her hand over her mouth, just as Dixon would do when he said something foolish. The Giant raised his eyebrows at her. Whether impressed or affronted she wasn’t quite sure. He drew his hand right up to his face and poked at Ella with the index finger of his other hand, knocking her over.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ said the Giant. Ella could feel the force of his breath about them. If he were to blow a boat on the ocean, it would surely be forced from Dover to Calais in one go.

  Ella stood up. ‘That’s all right,’ she said. ‘You’re pretty big, aren’t you?’

  The Giant chuckled and his gigantic shoulders shuddered.

  ‘I like you, Ella Montgomery,’ he said. ‘I really do.’ Ella smiled gratefully.

  ‘Well, thank all that is good and natural for that,’ Harold, who had recovered his senses, whispered in Charlie’s ear.

  ‘But the Magicals did us a great wrong,’ said the Giant, lifting himself up off the sand and shaking himself down. Ella’s head went spinny as he drew them up into the sky.

  Charlie looked through a gap between the Giant’s fingers at the ground, so far away, and nearly vomited.

  ‘I just don’t know that I can have anything to do with them again,’ the Giant continued. Then he peered at Charlie. ‘Who are you?’ the giant asked, being careful not to breathe onto his palm.

  ‘Um, I-I-I-I-I’m Ch-Ch-Ch-Charlie,’ stuttered Charlie, ‘E-E-Ella’s P-P-Protector.’ Oh great, he thought to himself, my stutter’s back. Charlie hadn’t stuttered since the Duke had cured him of it last summer.

  ‘Well I’m T-T-T-T-Thomas,’ said the Giant. He folded them back up in his fist and fell about laughing.

  Once Charlie had partially recovered from being shaken about like a nut again, he frowned. Which immediately struck him as a foolish thing to do. The Giant frowned back at him. Charlie, terrified that the giant was going to get cross, suddenly found a big grin. ‘F-f-f-funny,’ he said. He hoped it sounded like he meant it.

  ‘Um, I’m sorry to be rude,’ said Ella, waving her hand so as to get the Giant’s attention again, ‘but we don’t have a lot of time to get to know each other. Are you able to help me?’

  The Giant peered down at Ella. ‘I like your gumption, young lady,’ he said. Ella could see right up his nose. Goodness it was dirty, not to mention hairy.

  ‘Yes I am able to help you, I suppose,’ he said. ‘Or at least I hope I am. For we Giants can usually find anything we need to, more or less, if we want to. If it is something or someone that the seeker cares for truly, loves, holds in esteem, respects, wishes only well. I will help you, but only because I like you so much. And, of course, because it is very possible that you really are the Clearheart, seeing that you managed to rouse me.’ The Giant began to reel on his feet a little. Ella and Charlie had to hold on tightly to his hand. ‘So sorry,’ he said. ‘I find being up here in all this fresh air a little discombobulating.’ Thomas steadied himself. ‘But you will have to prove yourself, and I will expect you to give me something in return.’

  Ella tucked her hair behind her ears, revealing their perfectly pointed tips. Wondering at this sudden bravado she seemed to have developed, she said, ‘Of course, if I can, I will. Anything.’

  The Giant dropped to the ground and crossed his legs. It took Ella a minute or so to come to, so winded was she by the sudden fall.

  ‘Right,’ said the Giant, tipping the children onto the ground (not very gently).

  ‘Ooof,’ said Charlie.

  ‘What I want in return is for you to help me clear the Giants’ name one way or another. Prove our innocence,’ said Thomas. ‘That is what you must do for me. You will be beholden to me until you can. By which I mean that after I have helped you, you will have to stay with me until you can prove the truth of what happened on that fateful night. You do know what night I mean, don’t you?’ Ella nodded. ‘For I need my brother’s name to be cleared, one way or another. For good. For me. Forever.’

  The children picked themselves up, sodden from falling into the muddy puddle the Giant’s tears had created in the dirt. Ella’s arm hurt from the fall. She rubbed it as she watched the Giant. He leaned over to the Gum of Gommoronahl and pulled a dewdrop from its leaves with a delicacy she would have appreciated him affording her and Charlie a moment ago. Another dewdrop appeared in its place at once.

  ‘Fine,’ said Ella. ‘You have my word.’

  Charlie looked at her wildly. What was the silly Flitterwig thinking? Was she thinking at all?

  ‘What is your friend called?’ asked the Giant, letting the dewdrop roll off his finger and across Ella’s arm. It stopped hurting immediately.

  ‘Dixon Delightly Ever So Slightly,’ said Ella. The Giant grimaced, and Ella marvelled at the deep crevasses in his forehead. He looked as though he were made of soft clay. He was massive, but there was something squishy about him that made Ella want to give him a hug.

  ‘Those Magicals have very stupid names,’ he mumbled. ‘Not surprising,’ he bellowed, ‘considering how stupid they are!’ Ella and Charlie trembled in anticipation of another angry outburst or onslaught of tears.

  But, taking a deep breath to compose himself, Thomas the Giant did not explode this time. Instead, he swept another dewdrop into his palm and spat on it.

  ‘Think about your friend, Ella. Think hard, to help me,’ he said. Ella did as she was bid, with all her might. She remembered how Dixon’s big eyes filled with warmth when he looked at her. The feeling of his fingers wrapped around her ear while he slept in the crook of her neck. How his cap went all pointy when he was excited. The way his backpack bounced about on his back when he did his funny little jigs. She remembered all the times he had whispered encouragement from his
favourite perch on her shoulder; how he always seemed to know when she needed her inhaler. She held all those memories so tightly in her mind she could almost see him herself.

  The dewdrop expanded, drawing in his spit until he had a small pool of water in his palm. He tweaked his big floppy ear and, muttering something under his breath, looked into the pool. His great forehead sweated profusely in the desert heat. His face displayed a multitude of expressions. Interest, uncertainty, anger, consideration. Charlie and Ella waited politely in the cool of their anoraks, grateful to Don Posiblemente for his gift to them both.

  As Ella looked out across the never-ending expanse surrounding them, wondering at the hugeness of the Giant’s limbs and the delicacy of the dewdrops on the Giant Gum, it occurred to her that they might be missed at Hedgeberry by now. For surely day would be dawning soon in England, although Ella had no idea what time it was. She should have looked on the alarm clock. But the alarm clock had disappeared.

  After a time, the Giant again leaned over to the Spirit Tree. With a dexterity out of context with his size, he pulled a small piece of bark from the tree, plucked a leaf, picked a green tendril, squeezed some sap from a bud and, reaching his hand under the ground, pulled out a segment of root in a spray of sand. As soon as he did so, each object became visible to Charlie and Harold.

  ‘Here is what you must do, little ones,’ he bellowed down to them, peering at Ella with a sleepy fascination. ‘You must go to Antarctica. That is where your friend is.’

  Ella covered her mouth in horror. ‘But why?’ she said. ‘How?’

  The Giant sighed a deep sigh, and his whole body heaved like a whale shifting up and back into the sea. He was beginning to feel decidedly dizzy. It really was time to get underground again. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I am struggling to locate his whereabouts precisely, which means there must be a Dome of Inconspicuous Impenetration hiding him, which must mean there are MAGICALS behind his disappearance, for its Inconspicuating force-fields are messing with my Waterways. That’s how I know it’s there, see. But I can get you to within a few hundred miles or so.’