Being a well-mannered gentleman, Mister Lewis told Big Ella all about why we needed to sort out Roc and his gang and save our castle and the town. At first, she looked at me and Shane and shook her head. I must admit that I kinda hoped she’d put a stop to us getting involved. But then, she simply nodded and said, ‘Well, let’s see what we can do, eh?’
‘If you had something that might make those thugs fall asleep,’ began Mister Lewis.
‘Oh, I have a much better idea,’ Big Ella chuckled. ‘Clear the table, folks. There’s work to be done.’
Big Ella got us to carry boxes and small bottles from her ‘witchy den’ as Shane calls it. She put on a big apron and set to work, mixing foul-smelling powders, puke-yellow potions and slimy green stuff. Every now and then she held up a strange little bottle of gunge and explained its use.
‘Golden Seal,’ she said. ‘From the root of American crowfoot family.’
‘What does it do, Gran?’ asked Shane.
Big Ella just tapped her nose. ‘You’ll find out,’ she announced.
Other strangely named stuff such as arrowroot and horsetail. ‘For the kidneys,’ she added. ‘And this,’ she said, holding up a small plant. ‘This is clary sage.’
‘Explosions,’ Big Ella laughed.
‘Bombs?’ exclaimed Shane. ‘Cool.’
‘Not quite,’ Big Ella chuckled. ‘But mixed with this other stuff it will …’
‘Cause thunderous gas,’ Mister Lewis interrupted.
When everything was stirred and bottled, Big Ella put her hands on her hips and looked at the four of us.
‘So, tell me,’ she began. ‘How do you folks hope to get inside Roc’s castle?’
‘Erm,’ began Mister Lewis, taking off his hat and scratching his head with the gloves.
‘You haven’t thought it through, have you?’ sighed Big Ella.
‘I thought perhaps we could sneak into the kitchen,’ Mister Lewis began.
‘SNEAK?’ barked Big Ella. ‘You don’t SNEAK, man. You go in with glory and splendour. Come on. Let’s make you lot look majestic. Follow me.’
She led us upstairs to her bedroom.
‘What’s she going to do?’ I whispered to Shane.
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘How should I know? When Big Ella gets an idea, nothing will stop her.’
Big Ella flung open a big wardrobe and began taking out strange and dazzling clothes. She chose a mud-coloured cloak, put it over Ossie’s shoulders and fastened it with a safety pin. ‘There, lad,’ she said. ‘That will disguise your rich clothing.’
Mister Lewis asked Ossie if he’d ever met Roc.
‘No. He’s my father’s enemy,’ he said. ‘He has never been to our castle, nor I to his.’
‘Well, that’s good,’ said Big Ella. ‘He won’t know who you are. Still,’ she went on, ‘perhaps you should stay away from him in case he sees a resemblance to your father.’
‘Good thinking, lady,’ said Mister Lewis.
Then Big Ella turned towards Shane and me.
‘Now, you boys,’ she said, looking at us up and down. ‘How will we disguise you?’
‘Minstrels, I think,’ put in Mister Lewis. ‘Minstrels are always welcome in castles.’
‘Good thinking, Mister Lewis,’ she said. ‘Perfect.’
‘Mmm,’ Mister Lewis mused. ‘A boy and a girl, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Decidedly,’ Big Ella clapped her hands.
‘Well, that’ll be easy,’ I giggled, nodding towards Ossie’s long hair.
‘Oh no,’ Mister Lewis said. ‘You’ll make a wonderful girl, Milo. Ossie is fine as he is – a very fourteenth-century boy. But we need a lady minstrel.’
‘No WAY!’ I cried out.
Well, despite all my shouting and pushing and kicking, I was decked out in a long blue dress, Miss Lee’s red shoes that Big Ella fetched from my bike and stuffed with rolled-up socks to make them fit. And, worst of all, a girlie bonnet with two yellow plaits attached. Talk about cringe!
‘If you ever tell anyone about this,’ I hissed at Shane. ‘I’ll clobber you, understand?’
‘With what?’ he laughed. ‘One of your pigtails?’
It was only when Mister Lewis mentioned finding Miss Lee that I calmed down.
‘Minstrels need musical instruments,’ sighed Mister Lewis, scratching his chin.
‘Done!’ said Shane, running into his bedroom and arriving back, waving the guitar he’d got for Christmas. He handed me a small, long drum. ‘That’s a real ancient African armpit drum made of goatskin,’ he said proudly. ‘You put it under your arm and bang it with your other hand.’
‘Yecch,’ I muttered. I didn’t know which was the most disgusting, the dead goat or the armpit. ‘If you’ve had this under your armpit, I’m not using it!’
‘Yes you will,’ said Big Ella. ‘OK?
‘Yeah,’ I muttered. Big Ella has that effect on people.
‘Now Mister Lewis,’ said Big Ella, turning to where the spook was sitting in an armchair. ‘What can we do for you? How about a nice turban …?’
‘Nice nothing, thank you, lady,’ he put in. ‘I have the great power of stealth. I can be invisible.’
‘Shame,’ said Big Ella. ‘You would look elegant in a turban.’
Mister Lewis scowled at Shane and me when we sniggered. ‘Time to go,’ he muttered.
We went downstairs and tied the box containing the weird potions, guitar and drum on Shane’s carrier because it’s bigger than mine.
That meant that I had to take Ossie on my bike. One moan from him, I told myself, and he’s dumped. However, since I was stuck with a wig and a girlie bonnet, I gave him my bicycle helmet.
‘Cool,’ he said. Well, at least he was learning proper English.
‘Hold on!’ said Big Ella, running after us, carrying a big floppy hat with a feather on it. ‘That’s for you, Shane. It’ll do as a minstrel’s hat,’ she said as she put it into the spice box.
‘Why do I have to wear a poncy thing like that?’ he cried. ‘No way!’
‘Because you have to look like a minstrel, lad,’ put in Mister Lewis.
‘HA!’ I laughed. ‘We’re quits now.’
‘Take care,’ Big Ella called after us. ‘Be brave, be careful, and do whatever Mister Lewis says.’
We’d gone about half a mile when Mister Lewis stopped us at the woods near the castle. He asked us to focus our lamps on him and we watched as he went around touching the trees.
‘What is he at?’ began Shane.
I sure hoped his mind hadn’t flipped. You never quite know what a dead person gets up to. I mean – touching trees, for goodness sake!
‘Ah here we are,’ he said eventually, putting his hand on a gnarled old tree. ‘The arboreal portal!’
‘The what?’ Shane and I exclaimed.
‘Didn’t you listen to me?’ he said. ‘When I was telling you about the different portals. This one is nature’s arboreal portal – trees, boys, as distinct from the indoor castle portal. Indeed,’ he added, ‘there is a third portal somewhere, but I’ve forgotten where.’
‘Can we please get going, sire,’ said Ossie. ‘Time is running out.’
Mister Lewis nodded and placed his two hands on the tree and muttered something. A cold breeze whooshed out and a dark hole appeared.
‘Quickly now,’ said Mister Lewis. ‘Nature’s portal lasts only a few seconds. Turn off your lamps before we go through. Nature doesn’t like artificial light.’
‘Will it open this way when we come back?’ asked Shane, before making a move.
‘Eh,’ Mister Lewis hesitated. ‘Trust me,’ he answered.
Well, those words didn’t give out good vibes.