Out of the Frying Pan …

Mel grabbed Wren’s wrist and pulled her back down the corridor but blocking their way was Blue, with two other rebels. They had their crossbows levelled at the youngsters’ heads.

‘That’s far enough. Back inside, traitor,’ said Blue. ‘Keep your hands where I can see them.’

Green shifted painfully in his chair. ‘You’ve got a nerve to turn up here. But it saves us having to hunt you down like the two-faced cur you are.’

‘I don’t understand.’ Mel looked around, suddenly very afraid. There were four more wounded rebels leaning in the corner, so bloodied that he hardly recognised them. They stared at him with an unblinking gaze, charged with malice. On the floor between them, bound and gagged and struggling, was Jurgis in his red robes. His face still bore sucker marks like oversized measles.

‘Don’t play the innocent with me,’ said Green. ‘We know what you’ve been up to. I should have let Blue slit your gizzard the first time we met.’

‘I think there’s been some mistake. I’ve not been – ’

‘Oh, there’s no mistake. I have a confession signed by your own hand.’ Green pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from inside his bloodstained jerkin and held it up for all to see. It was Mel’s sketch of the mirrormark.

Ludo said, ‘No!’ He was deathly white.

‘Your friend’s guilty all right.’ Green pointed to the signature in the lower right-hand corner. ‘Your name’s Melkin Womper, isn’t it? Or are you going to deny that too?’

‘No, the drawing’s mine.’ Mel fought to control his breathing.

‘So you admit it?’ said Green. ‘You are a traitor.’

‘No. Someone stole it from my locker in the dormitory.’ Mel heard himself. He sounded very lame.

‘He’s lying,’ said Blue. ‘How else would the Fifth Mystery have known where to find us? He’s the only one to have been to our hideout.’

‘The Fifth Mystery found you?’ ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know,’ said Green. ‘They were waiting in ambush for us beneath the House of Thrones. They killed most of my men. We’re all that’s left. Eight of us. The entire Rainbow Rebellion is here in this room. Now you’re going to pay for it. You’ll pay for it in blood.’ He lay the still body of his creature on the floor beside him.

‘This can’t be true,’ said Wren.

Ludo’s eyes darted around the room. He was sweating.

‘But I didn’t tell anyone!’ Mel was seized from behind and forced to his knees. His hair was grabbed and his head yanked backwards. A hand – Blue’s hand – held a knife to his bared throat. Mel whimpered as he felt its cold, sharp edge, and a trickle of warm blood run down his neck as the blade was pressed against his flesh. ‘We’re on the same side. Why won’t you believe me?’

The angels tried to push forward.

‘You two. Stay where you are,’ ordered Blue. He twitched the knife. Mel’s eyes grew wide with terror and an involuntary moan escaped his lips.

Wren cried out. ‘Don’t!’

‘Shut up! Or are you in this too?’ asked Green.

‘No one’s in this. Not me and especially not Mel. He’s been with us all the time. He couldn’t have betrayed you.’

‘She’s covering up for him.’ Blue pressed his blade harder against Mel’s throat, making him cry out.

‘No, I’m not. If you only knew what Mel’s been through, trying to rescue the master. If we don’t get back to him soon he’ll be killed.’

Green looked hard at Wren. His expression was stony. ‘I don’t believe you.’ Then to Blue, ‘We’re wasting time. Kill him.’

‘No!’ screamed Ludo. ‘Mel didn’t betray you. I did!’

‘What?’ said Wren.

‘Ludo?’ Mel’s jaw dropped and he tried to turn his head towards his friend before it was yanked back by Blue.

‘It won’t work, son. Your friend’s going to die.’ Green nodded at Blue. ‘Do it!’

‘No, it was me!’ insisted Ludo. ‘Groot made me do it. He’s been blackmailing me. His uncle was going to arrest my family if I didn’t help him. I’m sorry, Mel. I told him everything you told me – about the rebels’ camp and everything. I took the drawing from your hiding place. That’s how Groot got into the Mirrorscape.’

‘I thought you were our friend,’ said Wren.

‘I’m sorry, Wren. I had no choice. Groot followed us all the way. He must have shown Mel’s sketch to his uncle. Ask him if you don’t believe me.’ He pointed at Jurgis.

Green nodded at the men guarding the renegade apprentice and one of them bent and loosened his gag. ‘Well?’

‘He’s lying. Smell’s one of us, has been all along. He gave Groot the sketch with his own hands.’ Jurgis’s eyes darted shiftily from side to side.

Jurgis’s guard drew his dagger and held it at the boy’s throat.

‘Let’s hear it again. The truth, this time,’ said Green.

The dagger bit deeper. ‘All right, all right. Don’t hurt me. It’s true. Smell’s got nothing to do with it. Ludo’s been helping Groot from the start. Just don’t hurt me.’ He started crying.

Green looked at Jurgis long and hard. ‘That’s better.’ Then to Blue, ‘Release Mel. There’s our traitor.’ He pointed at Ludo.

Blue let Mel go and grabbed Ludo savagely by the throat. ‘Why you little …. Don’t think I have any qualms about killing youngsters.’

‘Stop! Don’t do it.’ Mel tried to force himself between Blue and Ludo. Another rebel dragged him away.

‘Give me one good reason why not,’ spat Blue. He gripped Ludo harder still until his eyes bulged.

‘Please wait,’ pleaded Mel. ‘We all know how the Fifth Mystery works. This is just what they want; to see us destroying ourselves. Put yourself in Ludo’s place. What if they threatened your family? And there’s a battle going on in there.’ He pointed emphatically to the canvas of “The Empire of Sleep” leaning against the wall. ‘The master is fighting for his life while we’re here fighting amongst ourselves. We have to get back to him at once.’

‘We need brushes and oils and easels,’ said Wren. ‘And we need every artist we have to fight what’s in there. Including Ludo. The Fifth Mystery’s got a terrible weapon.’

‘That’s right,’ said Bathor, ‘terrible.’

Farris nodded.

‘You’d better believe it,’ said Mel. ‘They can create as many monsters as they want. If we just stay here they’ll have won. With the master out of the way, the Mysteries will never be stopped.’

‘So, they got hold of the iconium after all,’ said Green.

‘You know about that?’ said Mel.

‘We knew they were trying to get some,’ he said. ‘The most recent escapees from Kig told us of Brool’s special mining team. There’s only one thing they could have been looking for. So, Ambrosius Blenk’s in danger, is he?’

Mel looked anxiously at the canvas and then back at Green. ‘He’s as good as dead if we don’t act at once. The master and Lucas Flink and Swivel. If we go now we’ll be behind the Mystery men. You can take them by surprise – ambush them like they ambushed you. They’ll be so busy attacking the master they won’t be expecting you. But we must go at once. Please.’

Green shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his forehead creased with pain and indecision.

Blue looked at his leader, uncertain what to do. ‘Boss?’

Green looked at Mel. ‘Ordinary colours are no match for iconium – but you’re right. We’ve got to try.’ He nodded at Blue. ‘All right, let him go.’

Blue relaxed his grip and Ludo gulped in air.

Green said, ‘We can deal with this one later.’ He looked at Ludo. ‘But someone better stick by him, just in case.’

‘Let me,’ said Blue. ‘If he so much as looks the wrong way, I’ll put his eyes out.’ He released Ludo, who slumped to the floor, clutching his throat and gasping for air.

‘No. I’m more badly hurt than you. I’ll stay with him.’ Green got painfully to his feet. ‘All right, Mel. Let’s go. You, come here.’ He grabbed Ludo roughly by his collar.

‘Is this why you’ve been acting so strange ever since we entered the Mirrorscape?’ said Wren. ‘You should have told us earlier. We could’ve helped.’

‘I couldn’t,’ croaked Ludo. ‘I just couldn’t. I’m so sorry.’

Mel looked at his friend. ‘I know how you feel. The Fifth Mystery’s got my parents.’

‘What?’ gasped Ludo. ‘How do you know?’

Mel told him what he had told Wren earlier. ‘The only way we’re going to get them back is to see this thing through to the end.’

‘I had no idea, Mel,’ said Ludo. ‘I’ve been selfish. Tell me what I can do to put things right. I’ll do anything. Anything.’

‘It’s OK, Ludo. Let’s just finish this thing together.’

‘Mel’s right,’ said Wren. ‘Let’s stick together from now on.’

‘Right,’ said Green. ‘Blue, you take the men and attack the Mystery. I’ll go with this lot and get the materials to Ambrosius. Good luck.’

As soon as they stepped back through the canvas, they could see that the enemy was winning. Dozens of flying, wraith-like creatures were surrounding Billet, attacking and retreating, only to attack again. Their forms were vaguely human and looked to be made from red-hot coals bound together with dirty cobwebs. Wherever they touched was seared black. The giant baby gurgled with pleasure as it stared at the beleaguered house from across the expanse of red sand.

Billet looked to be in an advanced state of demolition. One of the great studio windows that served as his eyes, and most of the wall surrounding it, was missing, the interior open to the desert air. Flames and black smoke billowed from the other. He was stamping his giant feet in the hope of crushing his attackers but it was haphazard, and obvious he could no longer see. ‘Is that the best yer can do, pip-squeak?’ he croaked, his voice nearly unrecognisable.

Blue led his men silently through the dunes behind the baby to await their moment to enter the camp from the rear.

Groot had made no effort to disguise the back of his hide, nearest the wall of mist. Mel could clearly see him and his companion in the strange studio inside the hollow baby.

‘Here, do this creature next,’ said the tall man as he turned the pages of the bestiary.

‘How dare you tell me what to do, you emaciated streak of snot! I’ll decide what to paint next, not some jumped-up flunky.’ Groot threw down his paintbrush and folded his arms, stubbornly refusing to continue.

‘Have some more wine. It might improve your temper,’ said Skim, proffering the bottle. ‘No? If you don’t want any more then I might as well pour it away.’

‘Wait!’ Groot held out his goblet and drained it greedily once it had been filled. ‘More.’ He held out the empty vessel again.

‘Can we continue now? Or have you run out of inspiration?’

‘What would the likes of you know about art?’

‘Not much – but I know what I like. And what I like is more monsters. Now, if you want some more wine let’s see another one.’

Mel could see from the way Groot tipped the chest to recharge his palette with the iconium that he had used up most of it. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘we’ve seen enough here.’ He led the others towards Billet, making use of the giant heads that rose out of the sand as cover. Carrying their bundles of materials, they got as close as they could without being observed.

‘We’re not going to make it across the last patch of sand without being seen,’ said Green.

‘We will if we’re quick,’ said Wren. ‘Look at the wraiths.’ As she spoke, the highly fugitive pigment that had created them started to fade and, one by one, they blinked out of existence. ‘Come on.’

Mel, Ludo and Wren bolted for the postern door. Much to Farris’ annoyance, Bathor left his fellow angel to help Green while he spiralled up into the air and wreaked some serious devilry on the last of the fading wraiths.

There was so much smoke drifting over the desert battlefield that the Mystery men could not have seen them from their camp. When they entered Billet, they found his interior also filled with smoke, but they made it up the stairs to the library where Swivel had constructed a barricade in one corner from a mountain of books.

‘Hello! Master?’

At Mel’s shout three smoke-blackened faces appeared over it.

‘Womper! We thought you’d never get back. Did you bring all we need? Who’s that with you?’

‘It’s me, Ambrosius.’

‘Green? Is that you? Damn this smoke. Did you bring your men?’

‘They’re out there now – what’s left of them – preparing a nasty surprise for Brool and his men. Things don’t look good, Ambrosius.’

‘It’s just as well you came. We could use another artist.’

‘You’re an artist?’ said Mel.

‘Green used to be my apprentice,’ said the master, ‘just like you. Billet’s in a bad way. I see you’ve brought the materials. They’ll be a poor match against the iconium, but now at least we can try to fight back. Even if we fail, we’ll have given a good account of ourselves. Swivel, set up the easels here. Brushes and oils next to them. Where’re the colours? Womper, you didn’t bring any colours.’

‘No, Master, we brought this instead.’ Wren produced the small sack. ‘Lord Floris gave it to my father to give to you.’

The master took the proffered sack and eased the drawstring to look inside. ‘Oh, my word! Lucas, look! More iconium!’

‘No one has seen it for hundreds of years and suddenly we seem to be awash with the stuff,’ said Lucas Flink.

‘Now we’re in with a real chance,’ said the master. ‘To work! All of you.’

Swivel set up the five easels with blank canvases, while Ambrosius Blenk divided up the iconium into equal portions.

‘I’m not about to let you have all the fun this time around, Lucas.’

‘Please don’t rub it in, Ambrosius,’ said Lucas Flink.

‘How about you, Green?’ asked the master. ‘Are you up for this?’

‘Iconium? Just try and stop me.’

‘I’m sorry, young lady,’ said the master. ‘There are not enough easels or brushes for you.’

Wren smiled bravely to conceal her disappointment. ‘I think this work calls for real masters and apprentices.’

Once it was shared out, there was much less of the pigment than Mel had supposed. ‘There seems barely enough for one good monster each.’

‘As long as they are good monsters, it’s all we’ll need,’ said Ludo.

‘Right. Lucas, Green, Womper, Cleef. An easel apiece, I think.’ The master handed them a brush each.

Mel looked at his canvas, the brush in his hand and the iconium. He was about to paint the most important picture of his life with the rarest of pigments, alongside two of the greatest artists who had ever lived. Mum and Dad, this is for you. And Fa Theum. He had his picture already worked out in his head. He held his brush poised over the iconium.

Then he lowered it. ‘Here, Wren, you take my place. Groot’s got lots more iconium than we have. We’re never going to match him monster for monster. If I can’t steal his supply, then I can at least destroy it.’

‘You can’t go back out there.’

‘I must. It’s the only way to even things up.’

‘Then let me go. The best artists are needed here.’

‘You’re one of the best artists. Besides, I’ve unfinished business with Groot.’

He dashed from the library.

‘Be careful, Mel,’ said Wren to the empty doorway. ‘Be careful.’

Mel had just made it to the cover of the nearest giant head when it began. From the mouth of the massive baby flew a host of monsters. They were horrifying, but Mel could see they were sloppily imagined and imperfect. Groot was obviously drunk. Mel retraced his steps until he was abreast of the baby again. The giant illusion of the baby was vanishing before his eyes. Its creator could no longer be bothered to renew the small image on canvas that maintained the phantasm.

Then there came cries of alarm from Lord Brool’s pavilion as smoke billowed and flames blossomed. Blue and his men were beginning their attack. Mel watched as the tall man said something to Groot and ran through the fading image of the baby, back towards the camp.

‘It’s just you and me now, Groot. And pretty soon there’ll just be me.’ Mel felt in his doublet and withdrew his bodkin. He stood up straight and walked towards the head apprentice.

‘Groot. Enough!’

Billet was beyond fighting back. He was visibly crumbling away, and it was all he could do to remain upright. His cries of defiance now sounded like creaking timbers and falling rubble, the words lost in a chaos of decrepitude.

A ghoulish croak split the air as a new creature approached. A great toad-like apparition with evil, hooded eyes swooped towards them on green, webbed wings, its back poxed with poisonous warts. Immediately, Lucas Flink counter-attacked with a writhing mega-serpent that encircled the attacker. The toad-creature burst apart like an overripe melon and the air was filled with flying gobbets of flesh and milky strands of toad spawn, the black embryos within stirring menacingly. They landed on Billet and burst forth. Thousands of newborn tadpole-monsters with fat, rasping tongues tore chunks from the house as Billet began to dissolve like a sugar cube in hot tea.

Ludo’s and Wren’s inventive creations – a heronheaded crab and a voracious parrot-fish – attacked the tiny tadpoles, destroying them by the dozen. Hundreds of the squirming creatures were wiped out, but even more remained and continued the relentless assault as they visibly grew into toadlets. They swarmed over the crocodilian creature Green had created, smothering it by sheer numbers.

Ambrosius Blenk’s riposte was in the form of a giant, rainbow-hued hummingbird. It hovered in the air next to Billet, its wings noisy blurs, picking off the attackers with its long bill and sticky tongue. The desert below was fanned into towering dust-devils by the downdraft. But even this inspired conception was inadequate to tackle the sheer number of Groot’s creatures. A great many invaded the wreck of the library, where the fierce turbulence of the humming-bird’s wings whipped them into their own darkly swirling vortex amid a storm of paper from ruined books. Within this miniature tornado, the toadlets fused and combined with one another until a new and powerful monster dominated the remains of the room, with an ovoid toad head attached to massive shoulders covered in toxic carbuncles. Powerful arms ended in webbed claws. Its pot-bellied torso was supported on two legs with fat, amphibian thighs and splayed feet. Its black tongue darted in and out.

‘The iconium’s spent,’ shouted the master. ‘Everyone back to the barricade. Where have those angels got to now?’

‘If you’ll permit me?’ Swivel, cutting torch redeployed, shielded the master and his companions but was effortlessly brushed aside by one swipe of the monster’s powerful arm. He lay in the corner twitching, his many faces swivelling out of control.

The creature’s predatory instinct was to go for the weakest and it seized the injured rebel leader. Green swung his sword but this was snapped like matchwood by the monster, which shook him as if he were a child’s plaything.

‘No!’ cried Ludo as he climbed on to the barricade. ‘Let him go!’

‘Ludo, don’t!’ screamed Wren.

‘I must. Everyone’s suffered enough because of me.’ He leapt and encircled the creature’s neck and they whirled around in a macabre dance. Some of the carbuncles burst under him and the acidic poison they released burnt through his doublet. Crying with pain, he hung on and his fingers scrabbled over the toad’s face, clawing deeply at its eyes. The toad-monster howled with pain and dropped Green. It spun round, smashing Ludo against the library wall.

Still the apprentice clung on, tormenting the apparition with his probing fingers. As the beast attempted to rid itself of Ludo, the wall cracked and rubble cascaded from the ceiling. Then the monster lurched backwards. The wall gave way and the creature, Ludo still clinging to it like a limpet, fell through the gap and plummeted to the desert floor.

‘Ludo!’ Wren ran to the gaping hole and stared down. There, far below, lay the lifeless, spread-eagled body of the toad-creature. Of Ludo there was no sign. The master and Lucas Flink joined her.

‘Where’s Cleef?’ said the master as the monster began to fade.

‘There he is,’ said Lucas Flink. As the dead creature grew more transparent they saw a terrible sight. Lying beneath it, mauled by the monster and shattered by the wall, lay the unmoving form of Ludo.

‘Ludo,’ said Wren. ‘Oh, Ludo.’