Alfie Bloom and the Talisman Thief (9 page)

BOOK: Alfie Bloom and the Talisman Thief
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“Thank you
so
much, Alfie,” said Robin, examining his gift. “Are you
sure
you want to give these to us?”

“Shhh!” Madeleine clutched her bow close to her chest. “If he wants it back, he'll have to fight me for it.”


No need for that,” said Alfie quickly. “I'm no good with those things anyway.” Granny had been training the twins in archery since they were very young, but even so, they had an almost unnatural talent for it.

Everyone was very excited about the Beltane celebration that was taking place that evening. Alfie's dad had gone down to the village to help Granny set up stands. He hadn't seemed to want to leave the little bird that had been constructed by his hero. Alfie had moved it down to the Great Hall so that every visitor to the castle could see it, which resulted in his dad's cornflakes turning to mush in his bowl as he admired it over breakfast.

There was plenty of time before they had to get ready for the festival, so Alfie decided to show the twins the discoveries of the night before.

“Hey, Ash,” said Amy as they passed the butler emerging from his room. “We're going up the eastern tower. Alfie found the way in. Fancy joining us?”

“I'll give it a miss,” said Ashford, heading for the kitchen. He was wearing stripy pyjamas with dress shoes and had a cravat tied in a bow around his neck.

Alfie
felt the others giving him a sideways look. Amy nudged him to say something.

“Ashford, are you OK?”

The butler stopped and looked at Alfie, his head tilted quizzically.

“It's just that you're dressed…” he tailed off, unsure of how to say it.

“Like a total weirdo!” finished Madeleine, earning herself a sharp glance from Robin.

Ashford looked down as though seeing his clothes for the first time.

“Ahh, I see what you mean,” he laughed.

“Do you need any, you know … help?” asked Alfie.

“Help?” repeated Ashford, eyebrows knitted together. “Ohhh,
that
kind of help.” He tapped his finger on the side of his head. “No, I'm as sane as I've ever been, thanks.” He grinned and turned to leave, then paused.

“Actually, there is something you might be able to help with. You've probably noticed that my memory hasn't been the same since I got back. I've lost something quite valuable. For the life of me, I can't figure out where it is.”

“We'll help you look!” said Madeleine immediately. “What is it? Is it metal? I've got a metal detector; I'll go get it!”


No, no!” said Ashford quickly as Madeleine rushed for the door. “It's private. A gift … for Emily. I was only wondering if you have any ideas about where I might have stored it?”

Alfie was glad that Ashford was going to make things up with Emily. He thought hard. “Maybe you left it in one of the drawers in the kitchens. Or have you tried the undercroft? You store lots of things down there.”

“Yes. The undercroft,” said Ashford, beaming. “I'll start there.” He bounded away into the kitchens.

“He's really not quite right, is he?” asked Amy worriedly.

“Maybe he hit his head or something when they shot him,” said Robin. “Or the elves might have drugged him, or brainwashed him; that's why he's not even angry at them.”

“He needs a doctor,” said Alfie, biting his lip at the thought of Ashford being brainwashed. “But I don't think the one in the village would know what to do. Hopefully Caspian will take him to one of their healers when he comes tomorrow.”

Alfie led the way up to the tower. The twins spent hours looking through the treasures and trying on costumes and armour.

The
upper floors had gone unexplored after the excitement of the silver sparrow. As they made their way up through the tower, Alfie was disappointed to find out that the rest of the rooms were empty. Chalked on the wooden floorboards of the room above Orin's treasures was a message.


Do not store anything above this room
,” read Alfie. “That's weird, I wonder why?”

Every room above that one was completely empty, even though the rooms below were so full it would have made sense to distribute the contents throughout the tower.

From the very top they could look down over Hexbridge.

“What's that they're setting up in the village hall car park?” Alfie asked, squinting down at the unmistakably human shape that was being constructed from long thin strips of wood. A little figure that he assumed was Granny directed from a distance.

“That's the wicker man,” said Robin.

“What's it for?”

“We burn it at sunset. It's an old tradition, to ensure a good harvest, or something like that. Every year Jimmy Feeney tells everyone that they burned people inside them hundreds of years ago,
but
I asked Miss Reynard and she said that's just a load of old rubbish the Romans made up. Me and Madeleine are part of the ceremony this year.”

“What are you doing?” asked Alfie.

“You'll see,” said Robin. “These bows you gave us should come in handy for it.” Alfie was intrigued.

“Speaking of the festival,” said Madeleine. “We'd better get ready!”

It didn't take long to get changed. Aunt Grace loved making costumes and had put together four simple green-and-yellow tunics for them to wear. They pulled these on over their jeans and T-shirts and began face-painting. Aunt Grace had only supplied one colour for them to paint with. Blue.

“What is this stuff?” asked Amy as she dipped a brush into the paint and trailed spirals on to the side of Madeleine's face.

“Woad,” replied Robin, painting a blue mask across his face and eyelids. “It was used as a dye in medieval times. The Picts painted their faces and bodies with it. I hope Mum didn't use as much raw dye this time. Last year it took days to come off.”

“OK, I'll do yours now,” said Madeleine, admiring the pattern Amy had painted.

“No need.” Amy dipped three fingers into the pot of paint and pulled them down her cheeks and
chin
in three blue lines. Alfie thought Madeleine looked a little disappointed, but as usual, even in a tunic and face paint, Amy managed to look effortlessly cool.

“How about you, Al?” she asked, waggling her blue fingers in front of his face.

“I'm good,” said Alfie, a mischievous idea creeping into his head. “Want to see something really cool?” He had been thinking about Emily's words more and more. He hadn't had the nightmares since practising with the change magic. Perhaps it did make sense to take control of it before it took control of him. He concentrated, recreating the blue skin experiment he had done with Emily. He knew it was working when the others all leapt away from him.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” cried Amy.


How
are you doing it?” gasped Robin, cautiously approaching Alfie to stare at his pores.

Madeleine maintained her distance, her hand on a candlestick ready to throw it at Alfie if necessary.

“When I fought Murkle and Snitch in their dragon form, the magic Orin hid inside me stole their power to change shape.”

“So it's in you now?” said Robin. “You can
change
form like they could? Alfie, this is unbelievable.”

“So you could become a dragon too?” said Madeleine. “Do it, Alfie. Do it!”

“That's one form I'm
definitely
not going to try,” said Alfie quickly. He told them about the dreams and occasions the dragon scales had manifested.

“Urgh. Well, at least it isn't turning you into Murkle or Snitch,” said Madeleine.

“So, what else can you do, Al?” asked Amy.

Alfie was made to turn every single colour the others could think of. He went on to amaze them by mimicking each of their faces, but was careful not to push himself too hard after the incident with the scales. It was weird to feel the hair growing from his scalp and flowing down over his shoulders as he transformed his face into Amy's.

“So, yeah,” he said, flicking back the hair as he tried to imitate Amy's voice. “It's like, sooo hard being this awesome.”

“Really?” said Amy, hands on her hips. “You're
wearing my face
and that was still the worst impression ever. Seriously. The worst!”

“It was a bit weird,” said Robin. “Come on, change back. We need to go down to the village.”

Alfie saw Ashford in the kitchens as they
passed
through the entrance hall. He had pulled everything out of all the drawers and moved on to the kitchen cabinets.

“Are you still looking for Emily's present, Ashford?” asked Alfie.

“Looking for what?” Ashford quickly pulled his head out of a cupboard. “Oh, no-no. Still spring-cleaning, clearing up for Beltane.”

“I don't think you should be working yet. Why don't you come to the festival with us?”

“Perhaps later,” said Ashford absent-mindedly as he pulled canisters of rice and flour out of the cupboards and began to sift through them. “Lots to do here.”

“O-kaaaay, well … we might see you there then?” said Alfie, exchanging a concerned look with the others as they left the castle.

“That's it,” he whispered. “I'm calling Emily and Caspian as soon as we get back. This is getting too weird.”

They could hear music and the jingling bells of morris dancers as they headed down the hill. Alfie was proud of the spiral designs he had imagined on to his face. He had felt a little self-conscious in his costume, but if anything their outfits looked tame compared to the fantastic costumes some of the
villagers
were wearing. Many faces were painted blue, but Alfie could also see lots of green, white, red and multicoloured faces too. Some people had ivy and flowers wound through their hair; others wore flowing cloaks and headdresses. Several men had stripped to the waist and painted their chests with large blue swirls.

Alfie saw lots of school friends from Wyrmwald House enjoying the festivities. Jimmy Feeney was running a hog-roast stand with his dad, and he made sure Alfie got an extra helping of crackling. Madeleine's best friend, Holly Okoye, waved to them from where she was enjoying a picnic on the green with her family. Alfie even caught sight of arrogant Edward Snoddington and Hugo Pugsley, and he carefully avoided them as he moved through the crowd.

Delicious scents wafted on the breeze. Alfie recognized cinnamon, freshly baked bread and cakes. From Gertie Entwhistle's colourful sweet stall wafted chocolate and the rose scent of Turkish delight. The many craft and food stalls that lined the square were draped in spring-coloured fabrics tied with bunches of flowers.

Alfie found his dad sitting on a hay bale tapping his feet to the music. He was watching people
skipping
around the maypole, expertly weaving coloured ribbons round it as they danced.

“You can have the rest of these if you don't tell your granny where I am,” he said, offering Alfie a bag of what looked like flat buttery scones. “Bannock cakes. Freshly baked,” he said, wiping crumbs from his tunic. “Ooh look, they're lighting the fires.”

It was starting to get darker now and everyone cheered as two bonfires flared up to light the square. A group of drummers began to pound out a beat that had everyone clapping along as a troupe of dancers performed acrobatics.

Alfie thought the dances and performances were starting to get much more interesting now that it was getting dark. Everything seemed to involve fire. Jugglers sent flaming torches spinning across the square to each other, always catching them at the right end. Fire-eaters appeared to swallow flames and then spat jets of fire from their mouths like dragons.

Amy let out an appreciative whistle as a woman threw back her head and blew a cloud of flames high into the air.

“Don't get any ideas,” said Alfie's dad quickly. “Those people know exactly what they are doing. Although
why
they're doing it is a mystery to me!”

After
the fire-eating there was a long drum roll as a woman dressed in red and orange took up position in front of a path of burning coals. Another performer poured a glass of water on to the coal and there was a loud hiss and a cloud of steam.

“She's not going to walk on them, is she?” said Alfie as the woman took off her sandals. Before his dad could answer she had walked straight across the glowing coals. The crowd burst into applause as she displayed the unmarked soles of her feet before flipping forwards and crossing back to the other side on her hands.

“It's not as impressive as you think,” Alfie's dad told him over the applause. “Coal is a very poor conductor of heat and the layer of ash on top is a good insulator. Notice she doesn't put her feet or hands down for longer than a second? There isn't time for the heat to pass into her skin and burn it. Watch.”

The woman had just called out for a volunteer. Before Alfie knew what was happening, his dad was over there untying his shoes and turning up his jeans.

“I don't believe it!” said Madeleine. “Uncle Will is going to fire-walk?” Alfie hoped his dad knew what he was doing.

The
drum roll started again. The fire-walker took Alfie's dad's hand and walked alongside him as he strode briskly across the coals, smiling all the way. Everyone applauded and whistled as he reached the other side and dusted the ash from his feet.

“You were brilliant, Mr B!” said Amy as he rejoined them.

“Nothing to it,” he grinned, casting an eye over Alfie's shoulder. Alfie turned to see Miss Reynard a couple of metres away, clapping louder than anyone else. Amy tapped the side of her nose and Alfie suddenly realized why his dad had volunteered for the daring challenge.

“THIS WAY, EVERYONE,” Granny called through her megaphone.

“I hate it when she uses that thing!” said Robin, as Granny's helpers herded the crowd into the village hall car park. At the far end was the wicker man, standing the height of five men.

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