Maddigan's Fantasia (23 page)

‘
I just don’t
know
this road
,’ Maddie was saying. ‘I don’t recognize
any
of it. Bannister … get your nose out of that book and tell us where we are.’

‘Tunnelling through the mountains in the way we did has thrown us off course,’ Bannister said, laying his book aside in a guilty fashion. ‘I think we’re on a road
here
…’ he placed his forefinger on the map spread out over his knee ‘… but I’m just not
sure
.’

‘What you really mean is we’re
lost
,’ said Yves accusingly.

‘Maybe … just for the moment,’ said Bannister, looking up and down the map in a distracted way. ‘Just for the moment!’ he repeated, making his voice sound brisk and capable, though his hands were flapping like a couple of lost birds. The map flapped between them.

‘You don’t really know, do you?’ Maddie declared despairingly. ‘Oh, Bannister – listen! We must … we absolutely
must
… work out the right thing to do. Just think of what’s happened to us over the last week. Even if we manage to get along without losing ourselves in caves or anything like that we don’t want to find ourselves in some deserted unknown place without fuel of any kind, and no one who might pay for a performance.’

Garland listened to this, feeling increasingly nervous. They were Maddigan’s Fantasia. Of course they couldn’t stop. Of
course they had to keep going. But what was the point of keeping on going if you didn’t know where you were going
to
? You might be moving closer and closer to despair. The roads of the land were the strings that held it together and once those strings were lost everything might fall apart. A wandering Fantasia might somehow slip away between those strings and tumble into nothing. In Garland’s mind the world shredded. Bits of it peeled away. Roadless, it crumbled into useless scraps between the stars.

‘What shall we
do
?’ cried Maddie, sounding wild with despair. ‘Here! Let
me
see that map again.’

She snatched at it. Bannister would have happily surrendered it, but Yves stopped her.

‘Take a breath,’ he told her, ‘and don’t tear that map any more than it’s torn already. We’ve got through worse things, haven’t we? Remember that storm almost a year ago? Remember being caught by the flood? All right! We’ve lost our usual road, but we can’t be too far away from it. We’ve just got to think things through and work it out.’

Maddie took a deep breath. ‘You’re right. Sorry! Just a wild, black moment.’

‘Part of the adventure of things,’ said Yves, smiling across at her.

Garland was angry to think that Yves was able to comfort Maddie in any way. And she was angry because, before she could stop herself, she found herself agreeing with Yves.
It’s the sort of thing Ferdy would have said, but he’s just pretending to be Ferdy,
she thought scornfully, and swung down from the van deciding to walk away from everything … from Timon and Eden … from Boomer … but most of all from Yves.

The track they had been following since they came out of the tunnels was well worn. People must use it; it must lead somewhere but it was an eerie road for all that, creeping slyly as it
did through ruins … and not just ordinary ruins. There was something about the disintegrating peaked roofs that rose out of the scrub, tilted at odd angles to the land below, which suggested that lives touched by mysterious ceremonies had once been lived under them.

And now they were confronted by a huge broken pillar lying across the track. But not one that had been deliberately placed there … sections of other pillars lay in the long grass on either side of the road, and stone blocks lay scattered as if some giant child had been carefully constructing temples and castles but then, getting bored, had kicked its buildings to pieces and had then walked away, leaving scattered fragments behind it. Garland left the adults arguing about what to do next, and wandered off among these ruins, frowning at them as if they were puzzles she might fit together again. At first her exploration was of the stumbling, bumbling kind, but suddenly she found that walking had become easier. Looking down at her feet she found they had cleverly discovered a hidden track – yet another of those little strings that tied the land together … thin as a thread but quite distinct. It was not a track that the vans would consider, for it was only about as wide as her feet and wound upwards in an absent-minded way to wander among savage rocks. But, as she stared down at her feet, Garland felt yet again that strange tingle that always seemed to be both a hunger and a warning. Of course she knew what she was going to see before she saw it – that faint but determined gleam, that twist in the air, announcing the presence of the silver girl. As she watched, the silver girl took form, fluctuating a little as if she was riding on ripples in the air which nobody else could feel.

Garland took a breath.
This time
she thought.
No hanging back!
This time she walked boldly towards this strange ghost, determined to speak directly … determined to ask questions.
But even as she did so, the silver girl began her wavering as if Garland’s approach was somehow sapping her power. Fainter she grew, then fainter once more, and still fainter, dwindling to a mere silver smudge – a sort of mistake in the air. Garland stood exactly where the silver girl had stood and looked around her. Nothing! Nothing and no one!

And then, just as she was turning away, she saw something on the rock next to her. Words. A short sentence. A pointing arrow. Those words – that arrow – had been there for a long time. The letters and the head of that arrow were barely visible. Moss had almost filled the crevices. Still they could be seen if one looked at them closely. The words could even be read.
A book is like … is like … A book is like a garden carried in the pocket.
The arrow pointed up the hill.

Garland turned and ran back to the place where her mother, Yves, Tane and Bannister were still arguing over the best thing to do next. She felt she had been given a sort of clue, even if she didn’t know what it meant or quite what that arrow was pointing to. Books! Well, a place that had once had pointed roofs, temples and pillars might once have been filled with enthusiastic readers too.

‘Mum!’ she cried, interrupting Yves who was laying down the law about what sort of road the vans could cope with. ‘Mum, I know the way we must go. I’ve had a sign.’

Maddie turned with something of a sigh. ‘What sort of sign?’

‘I sometimes see this silver ghost …’ Garland began, only to see Maddie immediately turn away, hoping to hide her impatient expression.

‘Don’t
look
like that!’ cried Garland. ‘Mum, there are words on the rock over there and an arrow pointing the way … it’s the way we must go. I’m sure of it.’

‘Garland,’ said Yves, trying to speak gently. ‘You know that’s
impossible. There’s no track over there that’s wide enough for the Fantasia vans even if we drove very slowly. They just wouldn’t cope with those rocks.’

‘You know he’s right,’ said Maddie. ‘That slope’s impossible for the vans.’

‘But there’s a carving on the rocks and an arrow pointing the way,’ Garland persisted. ‘We have to take notice of it. That’s the true way.’

Maddie sighed.

‘Garland, we’re going to haul that pillar away, and take off in
that
direction. It’s decided.’

‘You never take any notice of things I tell you!’ Garland yelled. ‘You just don’t! Yves is the only one you ever listen to.’

‘He’s a driver!’ Maddie yelled back. ‘Forget that slope! It’s impossible. Just get over to our van and … and make us a big pot of tea. Shell’s making one but we could do with another.’

‘You do it!’ Garland cried furiously. ‘You think you know everything. You do it.’ And wheeling away she ran back towards the rock with its strange inscription, scrambling up the slope and then hiding herself behind it, planning to sulk for a while. But almost immediately a shadow fell across the grass in front of her and she looked up to find Timon standing over her.

‘Go away!’ said Garland.

‘Don’t be cross,’ said Timon. ‘I’m on your side. Let’s set off and just see if this skinny little track goes anywhere.’ He touched the mossy inscription on the rock. ‘Must have been carved by someone keen on reading! Someone like Bannister.’

‘We’d better not go too far,’ said another voice, and there was Boomer coming up behind him. ‘They won’t take long to unblock the road and …’

But Garland was already on her feet, taking off up the track, glad to have Timon, at her heels, glad to think that someone believed in her visions. Boomer watched them go frowning. He
looked rather longingly back at the Fantasia gang struggling to put chains around the pillar on the road below. He looked up the slope at Garland and Timon, following that thin track and walking away from him. And then, at last, making up his mind, he began to follow Garland and Timon. From back beside the vans Maddie called Garland’s name, but she pretended not to hear.

They climbed and climbed, the three of them, winding in and out of rocks until, suddenly, Garland stopped and pointed triumphantly. Another arrow! Worn letters marching in a line!
Any book you haven’t read is a new book
.

‘That’s two arrows and two messages about books. You’re right. Bannister should have come with us,’ she said. ‘Shall I go back and get him?’

‘They’ll only grab you and put you to work,’ said Timon, grinning.

‘Funny to think that someone has cut book-talk into the rocks,’ said Boomer. ‘There’s no one here to read it.’ They climbed on – then abruptly the rocky track came to an end, seeming to fall away into nothing. Garland, Timon and Boomer found themselves standing on an unexpected edge.

‘Well, that’s that,’ said Timon rather blankly. ‘I can’t believe your track leads on into the air.’

But Garland was already pointing to one side of the drop.

‘No! Look! It goes down there,’ she said. ‘See?’ And she was right. The track had doubled back on itself, beginning again a little to the right of them, but taking on a different form, for there, climbing down the side of the cliff, was a zigzagging line of old steps.

‘I suppose you’re determined to go down there,’ said Timon, rather apprehensively.

‘I’ve told you. I had a sign,’ Garland reminded him.

It wasn’t easy. Garland had to lower herself over the side very carefully indeed. Panting and frowning, she kicked with
her feet, feeling for the first step, angling herself so that she could lower herself down safely.

‘Be careful!’ yelled Boomer. ‘Careful! There’s no hand rail.’ But Garland was already inching herself around so that she faced outward and downward. Then she began feeling her way, very carefully indeed, step after step, down that strange stair. Timon followed her and Boomer followed Timon, beginning a tuneless whistle as he did so … a whistle of fear rather than pleasure. After all, that stairway was terrifying. A few steps down and Boomer stopped whistling. He just had to complain. ‘This is just mad,’ he said plaintively.

‘Go back then,’ suggested Garland, but turning around on those stairs seemed even more risky than simply going on. Boomer followed doggedly … down and down … trying not to glance down into the space that seemed to be beckoning him … jump! Go on! Jump! I dare you! Dive! Dive into nothing!

And, after all, walking down so very carefully, with their right hands against the cliff and their left hands waving out over nothing at all, they all reached the bottom without falling, and immediately saw words cut into the rock.

Books are a finer world within the world
and then, below these words, yet a third arrow. And below the arrow a single word.
LIBRARY
.

‘Library!’ exclaimed Garland incredulously.

‘Library,’ Boomer echoed her. ‘Who’d want a library out here in the middle of nowhere? I mean … there are libraries in places like Solis and Newton, but there’s no one out here to borrow books. I mean rabbits and hawks don’t read. Anyway, won’t your mum be looking for you? Let’s go back.’

‘No way!’ said Garland. ‘Well, I mean
you
can. I’m going on. I think I’ve been
told
to go this way. And those people – the ones that once lived with those tilted roofs and pillars and things back there – might have wanted to read.’

They began to pick their way along the bottom of the cliff.

‘You tell her,’ Boomer said to Timon. ‘She does what you say.’

‘But I want to see the library too,’ said Timon, and looked sideways at Boomer. And Boomer immediately fell silent for these days it always seemed to him there was something sinister in Timon’s expression, even though he could not quite work out what it was.

The cliff curved suddenly to the right. As she turned the corner, Garland came to such a sudden standstill that Timon ran into her, and Boomer ran into Timon. They had found themselves staring across a sunny meadow, and in the middle of that meadow stood a tall arched gateway – a gateway with no fences on either side of it, just a gateway, looking grand, yet completely senseless too. Beyond the gateway, on the far edge of the meadow, rose a tall building, its grey stone gilded by bright sunshine.
The Library
said words cut into the gateway’s stone arch. ‘Look!’ whispered Garland. ‘It’s there. There! It really, really is a library.’ And she moved towards it, worked on by a sudden enchantment.

‘Someone’s watching us,’
said Boomer suspiciously. ‘Let’s go back again.’ But Garland advanced confidently Timon beside her. Unwillingly Boomer trailed after them, mumbling and grumbling to himself, as they worked their way across the meadow that sang with the buzzing of bees. It felt strange to be going under that arch when they could just as easily have gone around it, felt strange, only a few minutes later, to find themselves climbing cautiously up three worn steps and in at an open door.

A great hall, lined with shelves and shelves of books, stretched ahead of them. For some reason this seemed stranger to Boomer than if the walls had been filled with windows opening out on planets and distant suns. ‘Books!’ he said.

‘Well, we were warned,’ said Timon.

‘Hello!’ called Garland. ‘Anyone here? Any librarians?’ she called again, joking a bit to hide the fact that the strangeness and silence of the place were scaring her.

‘Anyone here?’ Timon called too.

Here … here … here
their voices echoed but there was no reply.

‘Come on,’ said Garland, advancing towards the door at the end of the hall. ‘There must be
somebody
here. Somebody to do housework anyway! There aren’t any cobwebs on these books,
even the top ones.’ She rubbed her finger along the edge of, a shelf. ‘No dust! Someone must keep things dusted. There must be some sort of librarian lurking somewhere. Hey! What if Bannister was here? He’d melt with happiness.’

‘I don’t want Bannister to melt,’ mumbled Boomer.

Moving slowly through that entrance hall, then through the door at the far end of it, they came into a big room, dimly lighted by a series of candles. Books and more books. And there in the middle of the room a wide desk, and big square cabinet filled with drawers beside it. Spread out on the desk was a flattened piece of paper. Sunshine, struggling weakly through a deep slot of a window high in one of the walls, illuminated the paper as if some magical, pointing finger was determined they should not walk by.

Garland looked down at the paper. Just for a moment its surface seemed alive with words – printed words and words that had been scribbled on top of them so that the paper seemed to be crawling with lines that were impossible to read. The messages, the arrows, the steps down into the canyon had all been scary, but for some reason the sight of that piece of paper with its words crawling all over it was more scary still.

Meanwhile back at the Fantasia there was fuss and fury.

‘Where have they all
gone
?’ Maddie was shouting.

And Yves, still panting and wiping his sweaty forehead, said, ‘Knowing Garland I expect she took off up that track, just to get her own back. She probably wants you to worry.’

‘Well, I
am
worrying,’ said Maddie. ‘I’m still cross but I’m worrying at the same time. We Fantasia people can easily do two things at once.’

‘You can follow them, perhaps,’ suggested Bannister, frowning over his map. ‘Look! There seems to be a big camping place just ahead of us along this track … at least I think
it’s a camping place. I can’t quite read what it says, because the letters have faded and the map has been folded through the middle of the word so the print’s worn away a bit, but I’m fairly sure it says
Camp
. So the rest of you could push on, and Maddie and I could shoot up to the hilltop and look around … give them a call.’

‘Well, I suppose so,’ said Yves. ‘We do need to be on the road again and it’s well into the afternoon. Perhaps Tane should go with you too. But that Garland of yours …’ He shook his head, frowning darkly.

‘Oh, it’s partly my fault,’ said Maddie. ‘Off you go, and when you get to the camping place wait for us. I mean there are three of them aren’t there – Boomer and Timon have gone with her.’

‘What happens if you don’t find them?’ asked Tane.

‘Oh, we’ll find them,’ said Maddie crossly. ‘Of course we will. Come on Bannister. Let’s go!’