Campion's Choice

Jack sat silently through ’Cups’, a round of exotic teas and unusual coffee concoctions accompanied by exquisitely strange chocolates and candied delicacies. When these delicacies were eaten and people’s mugs were drained Monty stood up and banged on the table with his fork.

‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Grand grub as ever, boys and girls. Now it’s time to get the official bits and pieces out of the way. First of all, welcome to the Right Honourable Ernest Roberts. Very good of you to join us, Minister.’

The Minister of Energy started to stand up but Monty shoved him back into his seat.

‘Now Ernie, I know you thought you’d be giving us some kind of a speech but, let’s face it, you don’t want to make it and we don’t want to hear it so …. let’s go straight to the bit where we all give you a jolly good round of applause.’

Monty began clapping and the students and Dons joined in. Ernest Roberts had the best ever ovation of his long and boring life in politics.

‘Good, good, good. Onwards and upwards.’ Monty beamed.

There was an interruption down below as a shadowy figure hurriedly approached Matthew Baines. Jack fiddled with his earpiece but was too slow to catch their exchange of words. However it was clear that Baines was troubled. It struck Jack as strange when the bodyguard moved off and stopped to speak to Criel. Jack grabbed the pair of Opera glasses. For a second, as he fiddled to focus, he held his breath. Then everything became clear. He saw the familiar boyish grin, the blonde curls and, after a blurry shift to make sure, there it was, a hand decorated with a scorpion tattoo.

‘It’s him! Deathstalker. He’s here now,’ Jack said urgently, grabbing Ursula’s toga.

There was more activity down below. Two security men came quickly from the side walls and approached the Minister of Energy.

Jack focussed. He listened to what one of them said to the Minister. It was something about a ‘major failure’ at a power station. The lights had gone off in Manchester.

Matthew Baines and the Energy Minister hastily stood up to leave. They made their apologies to Monty and left the Grand Hall.

A hush had fallen on the room. Everyone appeared to be nervously watching the dignitaries leave. Monty smiled broadly.

’Nothing to worry about. There has been a power cut, somewhere ‘oop north’. In Manchester I think. Oh well, at least, with all the lights off they won’t see the rain! Good luck Minister. Oh … and I hope you get your power station fixed Mister Baines. Still, it’s not all bad news. It means more tuck and grog for the rest of us!’

Monty raised a glass to their two empty chairs.

The students cheered. Jack searched the room for the tattooed bodyguard but he was missing.

‘You have to catch that man. He is the Deathstalker. Do something!’ Jack hissed at Ursula.

‘We will. I promise. I’ve sent message to Anax,’ Ursula answered.

Jack looked at her. How had she sent a message? Telepathy? Why not, the Nomas were full of surprises. Monty continued to speak to the dinner guests, his voice filling the room.

’The ‘Wolf’s Paw Dinner’ is a time when we admit new members to our fellowship. Today is no exception but, for the first time, three people will become honorary Cancellarians: three young people. We expect great things of them. That’s why they are joining our new super, duper, junior, enrichment scholarship programme. If they would like to stand up I’ll get all the official flummery out of the way!’

Liam, looking cool and completely at ease rose to his feet. Tia got up and seemed to crouch forward, blushing so badly her ears appeared to glow. ‘Fake Jack’, Jack’s double, stood up, tall and straight, grinning happily at the Dadster.

‘Right then, Glenster. Do your stuff!’ Monty ordered.

Glenster appeared at the huge doors of the hall and marched in with one arm thrust forward. She carried three shiny, black scarves.

‘Ad vitam!’ she boomed and placed the first scarf around Liam’s neck.

‘For life!’ chanted the Cancellarians.

Tia received the same treatment. When it came to ‘Fake Jack’s’ turn Grampus nearly fell off his chair madly shouting, ‘For life!’

Ursula whispered in Jack’s ear, ‘That’s how you can tell if someone’s an old Cancellarian. Look out for people wandering around the City of Cambridge wearing a black silk scarf!’

Down below Monty took another very long drink, belched loudly and then banged his glass on the table.

‘Jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly good. More wine, mother!’ he commanded. Servers came running to pour drinks for everyone. Ursula Stanhope muttered under her breath as Monty downed yet another glass of Claret. Her husband wiped his mouth on his sleeve and grinned wolfishly as he spoke.

’Right, time to continue the entertainment. Recently one or two of you may have noticed something of a stir that was caused in the Grand Arcade in this, our, fair city. Well, the young chap involved in that performance has been good enough to grace us with his presence today. Let us hope this show does not end in a riot. So, whilst you nibble on your Bladderwracked Bacon, in the name of the Black Prince I call upon Gidean St-George to proceed with the final diversion!’

The little door, in the panelling, that delivered food to Jack and Ursula opened and revealed a plate full of tiny, bite sized toasted sandwiches.

‘Ah! BB! Bladderwracked Bacon! Delicious. Perfect way to end a perfect meal. You’ll love this.’

Although his stomach was bursting Jack took a tiny toasties and looked down at the crowd.

‘Is it just me or is Gidean going bald?’ he said spitefully.

All eyes turned towards the small, gowned figure of Gidean St-George who stood alone, on a carved pedestal, in the corner of the room. He was in front of Big Brock, the First World War bomb, his slim body reflected in the highly polished brass. His distorted reflection seemed to swell and glow in the golden candlelight.

Without a word Gidean raised his hands and began to perform a blur of tricks. A spray of glitter burst from the tops of wine bottles on every table, doves flew out of boxes of chocolates, rabbits jumped out of suits of armour and smoke puffed like a steam train out of Glenster’s ears.

The audience watched and applauded nervously.

On the wall, on either side of Big Brock, there were several shields, and behind each shield was a circle of arrows fanned out like petals on a sunflower. Gidean snapped his fingers and a dozen arrows jumped free, their tips bursting into flames.

‘Circle the wagons! The injuns are comin’!’ he drawled in a rather weak attempt to sound like a hard-bitten cowboy.

The arrows flew through the air, thudding to a halt in a flaming half-circle on the table in front of Fake Jack. A murmur of displeasure echoed around the room.

The real Jack rose angrily in his seat but Ursula pulled him back from the edge of the balcony.

Down below, Fake Jack, dressed as Crazy Horse, gracefully whipped a feather from his headdress and, with the flick of a wrist, extinguished the flaming arrows as if they were no more than tiny candles on a baby’s birthday cake. The crowd gleefully applauded Crazy Horse’s coolness under fire.

‘Yes!’ Jack said, clenching his fist and reminding himself to high five Fake Jack next time they met.

Gidean waited for the applause to die down. When the room was silent he smiled, shrugged and waved his arms. Every table centrepiece jumped in the air and came together to form a globe of flowers that hovered above Tia’s head. He clapped his hands. A puff of yellow pollen burst from the decoration and fell, gently covering the girl’s body in a golden haze. The room lights began to dim. Tia glowed and changed into the living, breathing figure of Countess Joan.

Gidean spoke quietly.

‘Behold, the fairest maid.’

There was absolute silence in the room. No one could look away.

Gidean clapped and the illusion disappeared.

‘Monty, old man, I thought I might borrow your claw,’ Gidean smirked.

The Wolf’s Paw leapt off the top table and floated in mid air just above the assembled diners. This trick was received with hoots of disapproval.

‘Leave the Paw alone!’

‘Shocking!’

‘Put that down!’

‘Let’s have some fun,’ Gidean smirked. He stepped from the pedestal and mounted the nearest dining table. Raising a hand he pointed at the roof. People followed the direction of his fingers. Up above, beneath the rafters, a breeze seemed to flow through the small forest of ceremonial flags that hung from the ceiling. Slowly, one by one, the flags, on poles tipped with razor sharp points, broke free and began to fall, straight down towards the stunned guests below. A gasp of disbelief greeted the threat. In a blur of speed, the Wolf’s Paw caught each and every flag, snatching away the danger. Fear turned to amazement.

The whole place cheered. For a few seconds the Wolf’s Paw juggled the ancient flags like a cheerleader until, with a final flourish, it tossed them safely back into their places beneath the rafters.

‘Hurrah!’ someone shouted.

‘More!’ a voice called.

‘You want more? Then let’s make things go with a bang,’ Gidean grinned.

The Wolf’s Paw plucked Big Brock free from its mounting.

The Dadster appeared by Jack’s side.

‘Dad?’

‘You’re in danger. You have to do something,’ the Dadster said simply. Jack swung around to look down and saw Mrs Cole talking to Tia. When Tia looked up at the Musicians Gallery he saw panic in her face.

He was about to speak as Ursula rose to her feet and began to stare at carved flowers that covered the nearby wooden panels. In the centre of each flower a ruby red gemstone glowed brightly. The old woman turned white. She grabbed the leg of the nearest marble statue.

‘Red before the inferno,’ she muttered unhappily.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jack asked.

‘It must be Big Brock. It’s going to explode. The rubies are a warning. You have to get that bomb out of here.’

Looking down into the Grand Hall Jack saw a thousand glowing red gemstones. They appeared on the walls. They sparkled in curtains and in paintings. Some people seemed to be dazzled by the rosy fairy lights and clapped loudly, thinking that was part of the show. Some people were frozen with terror because Big Brock was now whistling, whizzing and dipping over their empty dinner plates. A few people began to clamber out of their seats.

‘But …’ Jack began.

‘You have to stop this!’ Ursula shouted.

‘Do something, Jack,’ the Dadster urged.

Jack came to the edge of the Musicians’ Gallery. He could feel that Anax, Ursula and the Nomas from Hanston were trying and failing to control Gidean.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus all his concentration upon Big Brock. The air became still. He let the ban liang fill him with energy and at the same time he felt Tia putting forth all her power.

At first it was easy to bring Gidean to heel. It was almost like correcting a naughty dog. The Wolf’s paw returned to the top table and Big Brock hung still above a sea of upturned faces.

‘You need to open the roof,’ the Dadster suggested. Jack looked down at Tia. She was smiling and nodding. She understood.

‘Here goes,’ Jack said, looking up.

Slowly, with the slightest creaking sound, the ceiling of the Grand Hall parted. Like large doors dragged back by a giant’s hand, the roof opened. Jack held his breath. He looked into the dark, starry heavens. At the centre of the opening, as if in a picture frame, the Purple Rose Star shone in all its glory.

All the dinner guests cheered with relief.

‘No. That’s not me!’ a voice yelled. Down below Gidean stamped along a table and smashed plates. Jack laughed but then felt a painful surge of energy pulse through his body.

Staggering he grabbed the handrail around the Musician’s Gallery. They were losing control of Big Brock. Something or someone, more powerful than Gidean, was fighting back. Jack scanned the room below. One face looked up, a young face, calm and laughing. The Deathstalker.

A second burst of energy worked its way into Jack’s body, like a poison. It made him weak. It took away hope.

Jack fought back. Below, at the top table, Tia rose to her feet and turned to him, her eyes were blazing but fearful, her chalk white face was streaked with tears. Their shared power came together, one spirit against danger.

They fought to control Big Brock. It was like dragging an anchor up from the depths of a bottomless ocean. Foot by foot they hauled the bomb upwards and pushed it out through the open roof. Finally Big Brock pointed out towards the night sky.

Guests clapped and cheered.

‘That’s not part of the show!’ Gidean screamed.

Jack felt Gidean’s fury blaze up. He felt the boy trying to pull Big Brock back into the Grand Hall.

And then a really strange thing happened. A new presence began to flood the room. It grabbed every ounce of his power and Tia’s power and wrapped them into a pure ball of energy.

Big Brock shot like a rocket into the night’s sky. No more than fifty feet above the building it stopped, turned sluggishly and then, with a whump, it exploded.

The funny thing was that, deep his head, Jack seemed to register a massive blast. But his ears didn’t ring. There was no rushing of air. No destruction. No devastation. Instead the shell opened like an ordinary firework. A round ball of sparkling light flowered in the night sky and hung there, for a second, before drifting back to earth. The brightness began to fade.

Like soft rain, scented flower petals gently fell from the heavens and drifted down into the Grand Hall. They settled upon the upturned cheeks of the Wolf’s Paw dinner guests. With barely a creak the wooden roof closed shut.

Jack frantically searched the room for one face but the Deathstalker was nowhere to be seen.

‘Safe again,’ the Dadster said faintly, his ghostly presence fading away. Down below everyone stood to cheer. They stamped and clapped and shouted.

But that seemed to enrage Gidean.

‘You spoilt it! You ruined the whole thing!’ he bawled.

The cheering began to fade. Gidean held his hand above his head.

‘This is me!’ he yelled, his face twisted with rage. The Wolf’s Paw raced through the air towards the furious boy’s outstretched hand.

It attacked him and he screamed. The air filled with a shower of blood.

‘Now look what you’ve done. It’s cut off my arm. I’ll sue you! I want a black silk scarf!’

Shouting angrily and calling for help, Gidean’s dad jumped up, grabbed his son and called for an ambulance. Some people near by were covered in blood. They started shrieking. A man fainted. A woman was sick. Anax and some of the serving people gathered around. They hustled the hysterical boy and his furious parents out of the Grand Hall. A team, led by Glenster, swiftly moved in to clean up the blood and comfort the distressed guests. Monty rose to his feet and took charge.

‘Don’t worry everyone. That was all part of the show. Let’s give a big hand to Gidean St-George!’

‘He looks like he needs one,’ someone shouted and people began to clap and laugh. Monty smiled and raised his voice.

‘On to the dancing! Ladies and gentlemen, old Cancellarians, Kings, Queens, Uncle Tom Cobbly and all! You are now cordially invited to join us outside in the Big Tent to dance the night away. Make way for the Mareeay.’

The students stood up and stamped their feet in rhythm as Monty, blue-faced and staggering, lurched away from his chair and led out the guests of honour.

Jack felt a tap on his shoulder.

‘Well done. I thought we were all gonners! You saved us from that mad boy. I thought you and Tia were rather magnificent.’ Ursula said brightly. She looked dishevelled, like someone who’d lost a fight with a particularly prickly hedge.

‘I don’t know …’ Jack began and stopped. He wanted to say to Ursula that he and Tia hadn’t saved the day. He wanted to say that the real problem had been the Deathstalker, not Gidean. He wanted to say that, in the end, something or someone else took control. But Ursula tugged at his sleeve before he could speak.

‘Time to go,’ she said, beckoning him over to the Master’s Way.

In the suffocating dustiness of the tunnel Jack asked, ‘I wish I could go home now but I’m sure you’ll tell me I can’t so, failing that, what is the Mareeay?’

‘It’s a medieval dance. It’s a bit like ’Ring a ring a roses’. Men and women get together in a large circle and then take it in turns to hold hands and caper about like lunatics.’

Jack rested on the creaky stairs. Another ‘Fake Jack’ memory had jumped into his mind.

‘They’ve sold the house! On Fen Street. Our house.’

‘What?’ Ursula muttered in the gloom ahead.

‘Mum and Dad’s house! They can’t do that!’ he said unhappily.

‘Oh, that? Yes. Well, you are all moving to Calbe Hall. It has fifty bedrooms. I know it’s a lot to take in Jack but we can’t discuss it now. We have to get you back to your family. You’re going to get your wish. You are going home.’

The old lady moved away down the gloomy tunnel and Jack hurried to keep up.

The door to the Master’s study opened to reveal ‘Fake Jack’, Tia, her double and Liam. Liam stepped forward. He put his hands on Jack’s shoulders.

‘They told me what you did. How you stopped Gidean. How you stopped all of us from being blown to pieces. I’ll never forget that, Jack. I wish there was something I could do to help everyone. If you ever need me I’ll be there.’

Grinning Liam tipped the brim of his gangster’s hat and coolly sauntered out of the room. Tia stepped forward.

‘I changed my mind. I’ve decided to go back home. To be with my mum. They just gave me a whole load of new memories. Is that weird or what?’ she said. Tia and her double turned to face Jack. He watched the double shimmer and change back into Emma, the girl from Hanston.

‘See you,’ Emma said and hurried off to join the party.

There was an awkward silence. In her high heels Tia towered over Jack. She was a very tall Wonder Woman. At that precise moment he felt very shy.

‘I thought you played piano great,’ he mumbled.

Her smile widened.

‘I’m so glad. I really wanted you to like it. Things got a bit hairy back there at the end. It wasn’t just Gidean was it? And we had some help?’

‘Yeah.’

‘It was very strange.’ She fiddled with her black gown before adding, ‘So, I’ll see you at school on Monday?’

‘Yeah.’

Before he could stop himself he stepped over, reached up on his toes and pecked her cheek with a kiss.

She giggled, nodded goodbye to Ursula and then, like Liam, slipped out of the Master’s Study. That left three.

‘How did you know about Big Brock?’ Jack asked, turning to Ursula.

‘The rubies. ’Red before the inferno.’ I thought it was a legend but when I saw them I knew it had to be an alarm. I think it must have had something to do with the new room under Night Wood. Hopefully things are working again. Things that will protect the Nomas and keep them safe.’

‘Great. Except that tonight was nearly a disaster. And I don’t feel safe now or protected,’ Jack said unhappily. Ursula put her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes.

‘It isn’t too late to change your mind. You can stay with Liam at Hanston,’ she suggested.

‘No.’

He was desperate to get home to be with his Mum and Dad, to be with Nance and Grampus and even to be with Lettie. He had to get back to being normal.

‘Well, if you’re sure? Luke just needs to give you tonight’s memories and then you’re all set.’

Luke stepped forward, smiled and tapped Jack on the forehead. There was the same strange bump. More new memories slipped into Jack’s head.

With that task completed Fake Jack turned back into Luke, the Hanston boy. Ursula clapped her hands.

‘Right! Off we go to the Mareeay. I have to keep an eye on my husband. He was looking decidedly frisky!’ she said ruefully.

‘That bomb could have caused an awful lot of damage. Have you contacted the police?’ Jack hesitated by the doorway. He couldn’t believe she was being so bouncy, acting as if everything was okay. This wasn’t the end. This was just the beginning. The truth was that, even if he went home, things would never be normal again.

‘We need to find the curly haired guy, the Deathstalker. I’m sure he was the one who caused all the trouble. He’ll be back. We can’t just go outside and dance. People were nearly blown to bits,’ he exclaimed angrily.

‘I know. But we can talk about this …’ Ursula began but he interrupted.

‘Tomorrow! You’ll tell me about it tomorrow because we’re all going over to Calbe House in the morning and we’re meeting Poppy Laight there! It’s already been arranged with my family and I know all about it because I was there …. er … as well as in Hanston .. er …’

‘Confusing isn’t it? Having two memories. That’s why I don’t think it makes sense for you to start rushing around right now. At the moment you can’t think straight. But don’t worry, it should settle down in a couple of hours. Or maybe a few days at the most. Until then Anax and the Huras will investigate.’

‘So I just sit back and do nothing?’

‘For now. In the meantime, come and join the fun. We can go back to saving the world tomorrow.’

Ursula sighed. She didn’t look like someone off to have fun. She looked exhausted.

‘Jack? Don’t forget this,’ Luke said.

The boy from Hanston stepped forward. He lifted a black silk scarf from around his neck and slipped it carefully over Jack’s shoulders. As he looked at the cloth Jack remembered the Dadster, years ago, cycling down Fen Street, going off to Cambridge, going to dinners at Canners with a black silk scarf flying behind him in the wind.

That was a long time ago. Before the accident. Before aliens. Before Criel and the Deathstalker. Before the ban liang and the Purple Star. Before Night Wood and the Niamh who wanted to ‘take the coins and take the world’. The list went on and on.

The more he thought about it the more he wanted to go and hide in a dark cupboard under the stairs.

But, he wasn’t going to give up. Because he wasn’t alone. He would keep going. He would fix the Dadster and sort out this mansion nonsense. He would stand up to any Deathstalker who came his way and keep an eye on that mysterious Purple Star. He would fight back and he would win.

‘What are these funny squiggles? Are they writing?’ he asked, turning the edge of the black scarf up to the light to examine a strip of hand stitched gold script.

‘It’s the college motto. It’s written in Sumerian and means ’Treasure the dream’,’ Luke answered.

Jack laughed. There were times when everything certainly felt like a dream. Ursula had turned her back and was humming some kind of a dance tune. Every now and then she gave a funny little hop and twirled her wrists. There was a knock at the door. Glenster popped her head around and held out a folded piece of paper.

‘Thank you,’ Ursula said. Glenster’s ruddy round faced disappeared.

‘What now?’ Jack groaned. Another bomb?

‘It’s from the chef. She’s glad you liked her surprise dish and even more glad that you saved the day.’

Jack blushed.

‘It wasn’t ..’ he began but Ursula held up a hand and stopped him.

‘There’s more. As a special mark of honour, every year, at the Wolf’s Paw Dinner, the fifth course will be named after you.’

‘What? Jack’s Pie?’

‘No. Campion’s Choice.’