The Magic of Hobson Jobson Page 7

Floyd looked at her and said nothing, but his heart plummeted. Farook had to be alive. He had to.

  ‘No matter. I’m not one to judge people’s poor choices. Listen now. Your very existence is in danger. You will live happily if you turn away; this balderdash about accepting one’s destiny is for fools. Think about it. You will be the only son. You’ll get all the attention—the attention you deserve. What if you went back, and you or your parents didn’t remember that Farook even existed? I could tell you how to make that happen.’

  Floyd’s body went limp and his head swam. He looked back at the images, now showing his smiling parents a few months from now with Floyd, his mother happy, normal.

  The image of Farook right before that fateful night popped into his head. Farook was so scared, his forehead wrinkled with worry for Floyd. Sweet, caring Farook.

  ‘I must find him.’ Floyd swallowed hard, his mouth dry.

  The demon didn’t reply, instead smiled again, her neck gyrating.

  ‘A fool materializes every minute,’ she said and laughed—a short, harsh laugh. She took a deep draw from her bubble pipe and exhaled, enveloping herself in a thick cloud of pink smoke.

  ‘Please ma’am … he’s alive, isn’t he?’

  The Tannycatch chuckled. ‘It is possible, Yaksha. One cannot determine exactly how old these images are. Many dangers lurk in the shadows around you.’ She rubbed two of her hands together and chuckled again.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ he asked.

  ‘Yaksha, know this. Every obstacle in your way will be put there by a female of the species. How delectably horrendous—how perfect.’ She laughed again, her neck twisting. Chutney growled.

  ‘So what do I do now?’ Floyd wanted to know, irritation replacing his fear.

  ‘Like the heroes of long ago, your mission involves three very difficult tasks. They are tough precisely because they seem easy. You may not even recognize them as you encounter them. The odds are not in your favour. Nevertheless, are you ready?’

  No, I’m never going to be ready. ‘Yes,’ Floyd said, his heart beating fast.

  ‘The first task is to answer a question. It is vital you answer it with truth in your heart. It will save your life, even if it isn’t the correct answer.’ The demon puffed more smoke and cleared her throat. Her neck slithered towards Floyd. Chutney growled.

  ‘The second task is equally deceptive. You must return something that does not belong to you. If not, the mission you have set out to complete will be futile,’ she warned.

  It’s useless to send me, don’t you see? I’m not the hero people want me to be, Floyd wanted to scream. I’m a fraud.

  The Tannycatch whirled around on her rock, using her six arms to spin like a top. Her neck twisted on itself like a rubber band. She sighed, untwisted and slapped herself rapidly on the face several times with different hands. ‘That’s so much fun, but it always makes me dizzy.’

  Chutney barked once and then sat down, his head cocked to the side.

  ‘And the third task?’ Floyd whispered, his irritation mounting.

  ‘Patience. I’m getting there!’ she snarled. ‘The third task will be the most difficult, and the most rewarding. It involves using a gift at the correct time. If you are to have any chance of success, every single one of these tasks must be started by sundown and completed by Surya Grahen.’ She bowed her neck at him.

  ‘What’s Surya Gr—’

  The Tannycatch writhed. ‘You’re very entertaining, Yaksha, with your politeness or fear or whatever it is, but I’m afraid I have to end our time together. The great-grandson of the former crown prince of Punjab comes to visit with his new bride. He hopes she will bear him sons, I’m sure. Always the same problem with our royalty. Sons. “Please, oh please, Tannycatch. Please see if we will have sons,” they beg. What’s wrong with having a daughter, eh?’

  ‘Nothing. I—’ Floyd started to say but stopped as the Tannycatch turned away from him.

  ‘Ahhhhhhh. Glorious Ninipuri,’ she sang. Her low, rasping chuckle rang through the room. She pulled out a small ivory seashell and opened it like a purse. Taking a pinch of a glittering pink powder, she stuffed it in her ear and exhaled in pleasure. Her neck rose again and fell back on to her waiting shoulders. Chutney pawed the ground.

  Floyd stared at the seashell. Ninipuri. He was looking right at it—and it could cure Ma.

  ‘What is it, Yaksha?’ she said.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am. I thank you very much for the divination,’ Floyd replied politely. He shivered but mustered courage to ask, ‘I was wondering if I could possibly buy some of your Ninipuri powder?’

  The Tannycatch snorted another pinch of the Ninipuri and exhaled loudly. ‘It’s not for sale, male child,’ she said, with a very unpleasant grin. ‘I bid you adieu. I must get a small siesta in before the prince arrives.’ She retracted her arms and head into her torso and instantly fell asleep on the rock, the shell purse by her side. In a few seconds, she was snoring so loudly that the water in the pond rippled. The shell purse shifted a bit with every snore and jumped a little on the rock it was placed on. He was so close.

  Floyd’s heart raced at the thought of what he was about to do next. He could always return it, he consoled himself, or perhaps come back with payment another time. He tiptoed over to the Tannycatch, his heart thudding and his palms sweaty. Slowly, he lifted the purse and opened it. The powder shimmered back at him—there was hardly a teaspoon in there. He had no idea how much was needed but surely if a pinch was all this fearsome demon required, then petite Ma would be cured with less.

  He slipped the purse into his jeans pocket and turned around as stealthily as possible, grateful he was wearing sneakers.

  He walked towards the door, Chutney by his side, but stopped as he felt a rush of air on his neck. The head of the Tannycatch was at his shoulder, bobbing on her elongated neck.

  ‘THIEF!’ she screamed, twisting her head in front of him.

  Floyd walked faster.

  ‘GIVE ME BACK MY NINIPURI,’ she roared. Chutney growled.

  Floyd rummaged in his jeans pocket and fished out the purse.

  The demon took it and felt it. ‘You have broken the rules, Yaksha. You are in my abode, and I am no longer bound to you,’ she hissed.

  Floyd broke into a run towards the door but the demon’s head only slid faster and blocked him. The grinning visage bounced like an eerie balloon that was losing air.

  Floyd cursed himself. The Ressuldars had warned him to not do this one thing. How stupid could he be?

  ‘Please forgive me, ma’am,’ he mumbled, averting his gaze.

  The Tannycatch cackled, ‘Since you had offered to buy the Ninipuri, you can pay me for it.’

  Floyd rummaged in his pockets. There was one squashed tamarind tucker. What could he possibly give a demon? He had nothing.

  ‘Jade or frankincense?’ she sang as she counted on her thirty fingers. ‘And I am partial to Persian silver.’ Her head rose, disappearing into the steam. Chutney cowered and whimpered.

  ‘B-but I have nothing to give you,’ Floyd stammered, keeping his eye on the door.

  ‘No matter. Your companion will suffice. Ridgebacks go especially well with morel mushrooms. I simply love morels!’

  ‘NO!’ Floyd yelled as Chutney growled and bared his teeth.

  The Tannycatch opened her mouth and ran a white, ribboned tongue over Chutney’s back. Chutney yelped and crouched on the floor, his ears pressed close to his head. This demon was crazy and deadly.

  Floyd lunged at her and swung. His knuckles caught her in the face. Her head bounced on her neck and bobbed. There was a black, splotchy mark on her face where he had punched her.

  ‘You miserable male!’ she screamed. Her neck slithered out and began wrapping itself around his neck. He broke into a sweat as she tightened her hold like a boa constrictor. She was going to strangle him like other hapless males that had crossed her. He started to see black spots and his breath faltered.

  11


  The Prophecy

  Chutney snarled and jumped on the demon’s back. She flung him aside like a toothpick but loosened her grip on Floyd.

  ‘Wait, I have something,’ Floyd managed to gasp, prying at the scaly coils of the Tannycatch’s neck. Wheezing, he pulled out the large orange feather from under his sweater and put it in the Tannycatch’s hand.

  The demon uncoiled speedily. Her neck retracted and she jumped off her perch into the pool. The seahorses flurried away in a cloud of blue and green.

  ‘Varengan? How dare you bring that in here? Get out!’ she shrieked.

  Floyd put a hand to his scraped and throbbing neck.

  ‘Y-You don’t want this?’ Floyd stood rooted. The Tannycatch was cowering like a rabbit faced with a pit viper.

  ‘I need Ninipuri.’ She hurriedly pulled out the small shell and sprinkled some shimmery pink powder on two of her hands. She stuffed a finger in each ear, took a deep breath and pointed at the door. ‘Cursed child! Begone! Pray I never set hands on you,’ she shrieked. The door flew open and a stream of light poured in.

  Floyd felt his stomach sink as a chilly wind whipped him and Chutney like paper kites back into the Inkling Room. He rolled over twice, crashing into several bowls.

  Floyd opened his eyes to Chutney’s breath steaming his face. The Inkling Room was in complete disarray, with some bowls broken and others tipped over. Several doors on the wall opened and shut repeatedly. Ela cupped water in her hands as she moved back and forth, trying to refill the bowls.

  ‘What happened here?’ Floyd asked.

  ‘You exploded through that door like a mongoose after a cobra,’ Balsam said, dusting his frock coat. ‘What happened in there?’

  ‘That crazed demon could’ve done me in!’ Floyd gasped, massaging his throat. His back and knees felt as if they had been through a sugarcane press.

  ‘But this wasn’t supposed to happen. She’s not allowed to attack you,’ Balsam said reflectively, then stopped and stared at Floyd. ‘Unless you did something stupid. Did you, Yaksha?’

  Floyd looked at his sneakers intently. Luckily, an ivory door creaked open and hung lopsided, making mewing sounds as it sprayed transparent turquoise bats into the room. Five bats lurched around the room, squealing. Balsam shooed the bats back and shut the door, but immediately, another screeched open to reveal a shelf with round sourdoughs and glazed fruit tarts. As the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted into the Inkling Room, Floyd staggered, his stomach hollow with hunger. A round man in a baker’s hat stuck his head through what looked like the back of an oven door and scowled at them.

  ‘Hé! La porte du four … Ferme-là immediatement!’ he yelled, throwing a baguette at them as if it were a grenade. Floyd grabbed it and broke a piece off, chewing hungrily.

  ‘Can’t have portals like this open between worlds, inviting all sorts of intruders,’ Ela said, as she poured water into the last of the bowls. The doors all shut themselves and slid into their spaces.

  ‘I tried to give this to the Tannycatch. She didn’t like it,’ Floyd said, showing the orange plume to the Ressuldars. They stopped and stared at it.

  ‘Suffering Shiitakes!’ Ela plucked the bright orange feather with its purple tip from Floyd’s hand and ran the tip of her finger over its jagged edges. What was all the fuss about this feather? First the Tannycatch and now these two? Just as well; he didn’t want to go into the whole business of him trying to steal Ninipuri powder. A flush of shame swept through him as her accusation echoed in his mind. Thief. What was happening to him? He turned back to the curious stares of the Ressuldars.

  ‘The big orange bird? It followed me as I landed in Yama,’ Floyd said.

  ‘Calling a Varengan a bird is like calling a Mysore lion a tabby cat,’ Balsam said grimly.

  ‘The Varengan flies swifter than thought. Its feathers are incredibly powerful protections from spells and demons, and impossibly rare to come by,’ Ela explained. ‘Yaksha, how in Garuda’s name did you come to have this feather?’

  ‘It was an accident. The bird was flying alongside, Chutney banged into it and I clutched at it. The feather just came off.’

  ‘It must have been ripe for pulling. The Varengan was probably flying around, looking for a place to pluck it out. It was probably getting ready to lay its egg. Those feathers are precious to all, but most of all to the Varengan. It will come back to find you,’ Ela warned.

  ‘But why does it want this feather? It has plenty of others, doesn’t it?’ Floyd shivered at the thought of the giant bird coming after him.

  Ela looked at Floyd, frowning. ‘The Varengan sheds just one feather a year and needs it to line its nest. Without the protection of the feather, its egg, the only one it lays, will die.’

  ‘What did the Tannycatch say?’ Balsam said softly. Floyd recounted the conversation.

  ‘Surya Grahen. The solar eclipse—a time of great power—one when the Merrows are at their strongest and the Ressuldars their weakest,’ Balsam said.

  ‘It’s difficult for us to take human form during this time,’ Ela explained. She had turned a pale green and droplets of sweat glistened on her brow. ‘The Tannycatch is never wrong.’

  ‘But a more urgent matter is the flat-topped mountain you saw in those images. That’s Chandi Mountain, a place where Ressuldars cannot survive. That is your destination, the final part of your journey, which you will have to complete alone,’ Balsam said, turning his face away from Floyd.

  Ela stood up, her braid flowing down her back like liquid silver. It bloomed funereal white lilies, their powerful smell making Floyd dizzy. ‘Let’s get the Yaksha some rest. It’s four hours to sundown.’ Her eyes looked sad.

  They walked into the cottage. Ela handed Floyd a glass of a cool, sweet drink that had hints of lavender and sandalwood. He drained the liquid and lay down on the divan.

  ‘Rest,’ she said. ‘We’ll be back.’

  Floyd shut his eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep. The sound of voices from the next room woke him up. He walked over to a bookshelf and listened.

  ‘Chandi Mountain. This is clearly more than he bargained for,’ Ela was pleading now. ‘Balsam, no, Gulaab would be his age—’

  ‘The journey must begin by sundown or the tasks will not be completed,’ Balsam said firmly.

  ‘I can’t let this chit of a boy go where grown Ressuldars have failed. Please reconsider, I beseech you.’

  Where grown Ressuldars had failed? Her words were icy fingers that pinched Floyd’s heart. He pushed the bookshelf open roughly. The Ressuldars jumped as they saw him.

  Ela flushed a bright green. ‘Yaksha, you’re up?’

  ‘I have to do this,’ Floyd said. Even as he said it, a strange relief came over him. ‘I’m tired of being scared and hoping things will get better. I need to accept my—’

  Balsam looked at him, an odd expression on his face, then looked at his watch. ‘The Merman’s Charpoy awaits us …’

  Ela breathed in sharply. ‘I’ll come see you both off.’

  Floyd followed the Ressuldars back to the Inkling Room, Chutney in close pursuit.

  Ela walked over to a gold bowl. She slid the red lacquered staff along its circumference. A deep ringing vibration sounded, the smell of sandalwood became stronger and a blue door with a glowing brass knocker creaked open. The caterwauling of seagulls and a wind carrying the smell of oils and tarpaulins billowed into the Inkling Room. Balsam waved goodbye to Ela, who looked away, her green eyes brimming with tears, her silver hair blooming forget-me-nots.

  Floyd felt his knees sway slightly, his body hot and cold at the same time. He was on his way to accept his destiny, to find Farook. Perhaps he would even find some Ninipuri again. He twinged as he thought of the Tannycatch.

  Balsam yanked Floyd’s hand and climbed through the door on to a large dock. The door shimmered around the edges as they jumped through it. Chutney woofed and bounced behind them, wagging his tail. The sun shone a dull red in the evening sky. The cold ai
r enveloped him in a wet, salty embrace and whistled through his teeth.

  A sign on the dock announced: Welcome to Port Currumshaw.

  12

  Merman’s Charpoy

  The salty wind smelled of fish and seaweed. Floyd turned around, but the door had already disappeared. He was deeper in this strange world.

  ‘Watch out!’ a voice yelled. Floyd jumped out of the way as a wheelbarrow with large water-skins rumbled down a ramp on to a small boat. The smells were overpowering—from fiery alcohol vapours to fragrant fruit and stinky cheese. Wheelbarrows piled with onions and turnips, crates of pomegranates and rum barrels, all rolled by on carts. Port Currumshaw was bursting with traders and travellers. Floyd’s throat tightened as he saw a mother kiss her son. What would Ma be doing now? Rocking at her shrine, no doubt, in wait for her sons.

  Ressuldars in swirling green cloaks moved briskly, their Rhodesian Ridgebacks flying alongside.

  So Chutney wasn’t the only flying ridgeback. The sight of the other dogs comforted Floyd as they flitted around, woofing playfully. Two boys his own age passed by and looked at him, curiosity in their eyes, but were nudged along by their companion Ridgebacks. The dogs looked after the Ressuldar children. How wonderful!

  Balsam pointed at the ocean. ‘There she is. The fairest of all ships—Merman’s Charpoy. Put your cloak on, time to row out. We begin our journey to Chandi Mountain here.’

  A curved burgundy ship skimmed the water. Waving a square purple sail, its slender chimney puffed cheerily. Even at this distance, its prow, in the shape of a ridgeback head, was distinct. I hope you’re lucky for us, Charpoy, Floyd thought.

  He walked alongside the dock when he felt a sudden rush of air above his head. He fell to the dock on his stomach and covered his head with his hands.

  ‘Suffering Shiitakes, you’re wound tighter than Ela’s braid. Don’t worry—Varengan don’t come around these parts,’ Balsam laughed.

  Floyd looked up to see the wings of a Ridgeback gliding over his head. Within seconds, Chutney’s ridge unzipped and Floyd ducked as the two dogs tumbled over his head, growling and nipping at each other playfully.