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Full Circle

Allan Frewin Jones




  EPIGRAPH

  CONTENTS

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 - Return to Widdershins

  Chapter 2 - The Orrery Chamber

  Chapter 3 - Forgotten Geography

  Chapter 4 - The Dwindling Box

  Chapter 5 - Furrowman’s Hat

  Chapter 6 - Cutthroats and Villains

  Chapter 7 - The Land Beyond

  Chapter 8 - Hearth and Home

  Chapter 9 - A Sting in The Tail

  Chapter 10 - The Crowns of Power

  About the Author and Illustrator

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  PROLOGUE

  The legends say that once, long, long ago, there was a single round world, like a ball floating in space, and that it was ruled over by six wise badgers. The legends also tell of a tremendous explosion, an explosion so huge that it shattered the round world into a thousand fragments, a vast archipelago of islands adrift in the sky. As time passed, the survivors of the explosion thrived and prospered and gave their scattered island homes a name—and that name was the Sundered Lands.

  That’s what the legends say.

  But who believes in legends nowadays?

  Well . . . Esmeralda Lightfoot, the Princess in Darkness, does, for one. According to Esmeralda, the truth of the ancient legends was revealed to her in a reading of the magical and ancient Badger Blocks—a set of prophetic wooden tokens from the old times. And reluctant hero Trundle Boldoak believes it as well, and between them they have already found five of the six crowns that the prophecy said they must seek.

  But there is a problem. Someone else is also hunting for the Six Crowns—his name is Captain Grizzletusk, and he’s the meanest, bloodthirstiest, wickedest pirate ever to sail the skies of the Sundered Lands. And just to make matters even worse, Grizzletusk and his murderous pirate band are being helped by none other than Millie Rose Thorne, Queen of all the Roamanys, and—horrifyingly enough—Esmeralda’s very own aunty!

  They have outdistanced their enemies for the time being and have arrived at the Guild of Observators in the crumbling old city of Widdershins, seeking help from the Herald Pursuivant . . . Percy, to his friends.

  “Trundle! Duck!”

  Esmeralda’s warning came only just in time. Trundle flung himself to the floor as a huge leather-bound book came swooping toward him, wide open and with its pages crackling and flapping.

  He covered his head with both paws as the thrashing pages of the book grazed past him. The book rose again and sailed on, rebounding off an oak-paneled wall and cartwheeling up toward the ornate ceiling.

  And the book wasn’t the only missile flying around the room. Not by a long way. Inkpots whistled to and fro; papers and parchments and documents rose in fountains and fell in blizzards. Scrolls whisked this way and that like great trapped insects with wings of red tape. And adding to the chaos and the confusion were paperweights and letter openers and candlesticks and pens. Not to mention dozens of albums and textbooks and encyclopedias that flocked around the room like ungainly birds.

  Peering out from between his fingers, Trundle saw Esmeralda dive behind the Herald Pursuivant’s leather sofa as a volley of quills zipped past her like arrows and embedded themselves in the wall.

  And in another part of the room, the Herald Pursuivant himself, their dear friend Percy, was wielding a walking stick, batting away blotters and inkpads and sticks of sealing wax.

  “We have to get the crowns apart!” Percy yelled as he gave a candle snuffer a wallop that sent it spinning through the air. “It’s the only way to stop this!”

  It was the crowns that were causing all the trouble.

  Little did Trundle guess as he and Esmeralda moored the Thief in the Night to a crumbling pillar in a quiet, uninhabited quarter of the College of the Guild of Observators that their visit would be the cause of such a riot!

  Keeping out of sight, and with three of the crowns in their arms, they had made their way to Percy’s private office, slipping under cover every time a badger strode past with his trail of book-laden minions. Several times they had dived into the shadows when a troop of fox guards came stumping along the corridors with their clanking armor and rusty weapons.

  Finally they had reached the Herald Pursuivant’s door. He had been delighted to see them—and even more delighted when they showed him the three crowns they had brought with them. The Crown of Fire, in its old biscuit tin; the Crown of Ice, safe and sound in the container the Lamas of Spyre had made; and last but not least, the Crown of Wood in its box with 5 OF 6 engraved on the lid and with the final clue pasted within.

  Percy had closed and locked his door behind his visitors. Then he had cleared space on his desk, and the three crowns had been taken out of their boxes and placed reverently on the dark mahogany surface.

  “You’ve done marvelously well, my friends,” he told them, slowly circling the desk and examining the crowns from every angle.

  Esmeralda beamed with pride. “It wasn’t easy, I can tell you that!” she said. “The phoenix wasn’t at all like you might have thought. He was old and grouchy and scraggy . . . and we were in a battle . . . and we met up with a pirate hare who was completely out of his gourd!”

  “He ended up as an oracle in a monastery,” added Trundle. “And that’s a whole other story!”

  “My, my,” said Percy. “I see you’ve had quite the adventure!”

  “More than one adventure, Percy,” said Esmeralda. “We haven’t even told you about the lizards and the flying opera house and the steam moles! And Jack is now principal rebec player in an orchestra that’s touring all the outer islands of the Sundered Lands, to packed houses.”

  “Well, I never!” Percy straightened up and smiled at them. “And to think, that after all these hundreds and hundreds of years, two little people like you should track down five of the six ancient crowns!” He laughed. “Extraordinary!”

  “I think I like that one best,” said Trundle, gazing at the Crown of Fire, sitting atop its biscuit tin. Its long, cool, slender flames flickered and fluttered like ribbons in a breeze. Trundle thought it was probably the most beautiful and fascinating thing he had ever seen.

  “I still prefer the Crystal Crown,” said Esmeralda. “Because that’s the one that started it all off.” She looked at Percy. “You still have the first two crowns safe, don’t you?”

  “Indeed I do,” Percy said.

  “Could you get them out?” asked Trundle. “I’d love to see all five together!”

  “An excellent notion!” Percy said. “Wait here a moment while I go and fetch them.”

  He returned a little while later with the crowns of Crystal and Iron, which he placed with the others on the desk.

  “Outstanding!” Esmeralda breathed, gazing at the crowns in wonder.

  “Extraordinary!” Percy murmured.

  “I’ll say!” a spellbound Trundle agreed. Gathered together like that, the five crowns made a spectacular and breathtaking sight.

  But the friends hadn’t been given much time for standing and staring. The first thing that had alerted them to the trouble that was coming was a faint, raspy humming sound, like a distant swarm of angry wasps.

  “What’s that noise?” Esmeralda had asked. “And why is it getting louder?”

  But before anyone had the opportunity to respond, the source of the humming became all too clear. The crowns had started to vibrate, gently at first, but gradually with more and more agitation. And as they quivered and shook, so they had moved toward one another across the desk.

  “Oh, dear,” Percy had said. “I don’t like the look of that. Perhaps we should—”

  And it had been at that precise moment that the whol
e room had gone crazy.

  “We have to get the crowns apart! It’s the only way to stop this!”

  That’s easier said than done, Percy! thought Trundle as a wooden in-box flashed past the tip of his snout and crashed into the wall with a loud bang.

  Keeping low to the floorboards, Trundle crawled toward the desk. The heavy piece of furniture was shaking and rocking, its legs drumming on the floor like impatient fingers.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw that Esmeralda was also advancing slowly on the desk, using a huge atlas as a shield against the flying objects.

  He reached the desk and gradually lifted himself so he could peer over the top. The five crowns were in a ring, whirling around and around so quickly that they were just a bewildering blur in front of his eyes.

  “Do something!” howled Esmeralda. “Stop them, Trun!”

  Trundle drew his sword, and with a thundering heart and screwed-up eyes, he poked the blade into the furiously spinning tempest, hoping to slow the whizzing crowns down enough for them to be pulled apart.

  “Ow!” There was a clang and a crash and the sword was knocked out of his grip. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” he yelped, hopping from foot to foot and wringing his stinging paw.

  But it had done the trick. The five crowns went careering in all directions around the room, bouncing off the walls and the ceiling and the floor, hissing and spitting like meteors.

  Esmeralda fended off the Crown of Wood with her atlas. It crashed to the boards at her feet and she leaped forward on to it, dropping the book and grabbing the crown in both arms.

  At more or less the same moment, Percy made a flying leap for a cupboard door, flinging it open just as the Crown of Fire zipped past him. The crown shot straight into the cupboard, and Percy slammed the door on it.

  “Trundle! Stop messing about and get one of the crowns!” hollered Esmeralda as the Crown of Wood heaved and bucked under her, struggling to get free.

  Blowing one final time on his tingling fingers, Trundle gave a mighty pounce, and more by luck than judgment, he managed to snatch the Crown of Iron out of the air.

  He ran to a wall cabinet, whipped the door open, and bowled the crown inside. The precious object clanged and rang as he whisked the door shut behind it.

  The effect was immediate. Everything that had been flying and careering through the air suddenly came crashing and bashing and whacking and cracking to the floor.

  Percy picked up the Crown of Ice, popped it back into its container, and shoved it into a drawer in his desk. Then he found the Crown of Crystal and put it on a high shelf.

  An exhausted silence filled the room.

  Esmeralda got to her feet, the peaceful and immobile Crown of Wood in her paws. “Let’s . . . not . . . do that . . . again . . .” she panted.

  “I had no idea they would react like that!” gasped Percy.

  Trundle gazed around the wreckage-strewn room. “If this is what happens when five of them meet—what will it be like if all six of them are put together?”

  “That’s a very good question, Trundle, my friend,” said Percy, stooping to pick up a few scattered things and put them back on the desk.

  Trundle and Esmeralda joined him in tidying up as best they could.

  “And do you have a very good answer to that very good question, Percy?” Esmeralda asked. “I mean, some of the old legends say that when the crowns come together, the Sundered Lands will be reunited—that all the islands will join up again into one big world. But other stories just say that a huge source of unimaginable power will be released. So which is it, do you think?”

  Percy pursed his lips. “Well, now,” he said thoughtfully. “I suppose it could be one . . . or the other . . . or both. After all, it would take a huge amount of power to pull all the islands of the Sundered Lands back together again, wouldn’t it?” He rubbed his hands, palm to palm. “It could be just like the old legends say—or it could be something quite different and unexpected!” His eyes gleamed excitedly. “Who knows? After all these long years of waiting, there might be a big surprise in store for everyone!”

  “But you’re sure it’s . . . safe . . . to put them together?” Trundle asked dubiously.

  “Safe?” murmured Percy. “Oh, well, I couldn’t promise it’ll be safe, exactly.” He laughed softly. “But that’s no reason for giving up, Trundle, my friend. No reason at all!”

  “No one’s talking about giving up, Percy,” said Esmeralda. “In fact, we plan on doing the exact opposite of giving up, don’t we, Trun?”

  “Um . . . yes,” agreed Trundle. “Absolutely.” He retrieved his sword from a corner of the room and slipped it into his belt.

  “Which is why we came here,” added Esmeralda, picking up the box that had housed the Crown of Wood and planting it on the desk in front of Percy. “Are you any good with riddles, Perce?” she asked. “Can you tell us what this clue means?”

  Percy leaned in close over the open box and read aloud the rhyme that was written on the scrap of parchment pasted inside the lid.

  Ye players of the ancient game

  Who plot y’r course with might and main

  Shall all the crowns unite again

  Among the stones of Trembling Plain

  Then ye who would the Badgers’ cause abet

  Fly swift and true towards Sunsett.

  “Hmmm,” said Percy, rubbing his chin and looking worried.

  “Do you know what it means?” Trundle asked hopefully. “I hope you do, otherwise we’re a bit stuck.”

  “Hmmm,” said Percy again. He began to pace up and down the room, his brow furrowed and his chin in his paw. “Hmmmm.”

  “Percy?” said Esmeralda. “We’re really counting on you.”

  Percy strode back to the desk and perused the rhyme once more. “Well, I can certainly explain Sunsett to you,” he said. “Although if I’m right, it’s most definitely not good news. Not at all, it isn’t.”

  “Go for it, Percy,” said Esmeralda. “Tell us the worst!”

  “Well, my friends, Sunsett is the name of the land where the ancient Badger Lords lived before the world was broken into fragments.” He peered from Esmeralda to Trundle. “And if the quest can only be fulfilled by flying to Sunsett, then I’m afraid the quest will never be fulfilled.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping under his sky-blue robes.

  “I’ve spent my whole life helping to map all the islands of the Sundered Lands,” he murmured. “And I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt—there is no such place anymore as Sunsett.” He dropped back into his chair as if all the life had drained out of him. “Sunsett must have been blown to bits in the explosion,” he groaned. “The whole quest has been a complete waste of time!”

  Trundle stared in dismay at the Herald Pursuivant. Their friend suddenly looked very old and careworn as he slumped miserably in his chair. Poor Percy, Trundle thought, I didn’t realize our quest meant so much to him. And the normally unquenchable Esmeralda was also speechless for once, rooted to the spot, goggling at Percy with her mouth hanging open.

  “Sunsett was blown to bits?” gasped Trundle. “Are you sure?”

  Percy glared crossly at him. “I said so, didn’t I?” he growled.

  “Yes, but look here,” stammered Trundle. “I mean, seriously, that can’t be right.”

  “A waste of time,” murmured Esmeralda gloomily. “A complete waste of time . . .”

  “No!” Trundle declared. “No! No! And furthermore, no!” He frowned at Esmeralda. “I simply won’t believe that the Fates would bring us all this way and then just abandon us like that.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “Come on, Es. We’ve come through so much! This can’t be the end.”

  “You never wanted to come in the first place,” moaned Esmeralda. “I think you were probably right, Trun. You should have stayed home with your cabbages.”

  “No, I shouldn’t,” Trundle said determinedly. He looked sternly at Percy. “Let’s forget about Sunsett for the moment,” he said. “What abo
ut the first part of the rhyme? The part about a place called Trembling Plain. Percy, do you know where Trembling Plain is at all?”

  “No, I don’t.” Percy sighed. But a sudden light flickered in his eyes, and he sat up straight in his chair. “But the Dean of Forgotten Geography might!”

  “Then let’s go and ask him,” said Trundle. He ambled around the desk and popped the Crown of Wood back into its box. “And let’s take this with us, just in case we need to refer to the rhyme again.”

  Esmeralda gazed at him, a small smile curling at one corner of her snout. “Who made you boss all of a sudden, Trundle?” she asked.

  “Well, someone needs to buck us all up,” Trundle replied. “You two are acting like this is a wet Monday night in Port Shiverstones!”

  “The lad’s right!” said Percy, getting up and tightening the rope belt around his middle. “While there’s life, there’s hope, eh, Trundle?”

  “Exactly!” said Trundle.

  “Follow me!” pronounced the newly revived Herald Pursuivant as he marched to the door. “The dean will most likely be in the Orrery Chamber. If there is such a place as Trembling Plain in Sundered Lands, he’ll know of it for sure!”

  “Lawks!” gasped Trundle. “What’s that?”

  He had good reason to be astounded at the sight that met them as the Herald Pursuivant opened the tall door that led to the Orrery Chamber.

  It was a huge circular room like a conservatory, made up mostly of windows and with a high domed roof of glass panels through which the sun shone brightly. Beneath the tall windows, cabinets and bookcases and tables and lecterns circled the walls, but dominating the whole of the middle of the room was a massive contraption the likes of which Trundle had never seen in his entire life.

  “This,” said Percy, gesturing up at the vast device as he ushered Trundle and Esmeralda into the chamber, “is the Great Orrery, the pride of the Worshipful Guild of Observators, and one of the nine wonders of the Sundered Lands!”