Chapter 17

I gulped. Emma screamed. I was terrified that the guard was going to turn round. But this guard was so cocky he just had to take a look over the battlement at his handiwork. I speeded up my crawl grabbed his ankles and tried to topple him over, but he gripped the wall with both hands and pushed back. Fortunately, he lost his shock stick over the side as we struggled.

“Emma!” I shouted at the top of my voice.

She ran to my assistance and attempted to help me lift his legs up. But he was too strong—even for both of us.

“Get his hands!”

Emma stood up and tried to dislodge his fingers from the edge of the parapet, by pulling at them, but he resisted all her efforts—until she had the idea of biting them—that did the trick. He lost his grip with one hand and made the error of trying to grab her hair with his other. That was my chance. I flipped him over. He let out the most blood-curdling cry as he went—his arms and legs paddling madly through the air like a swimmer. I twisted round fitfully and slumped against the foot of the wall, shivering. Emma crouched down and patted my shoulder.

“Is the Duck—?” I couldn’t bear to finish the question.

She nodded.

“God—are you sure?” I said.

“He’s not moving,” she replied and bit her bottom lip.

We stared at each other and both started to cry at the same time. We hugged.

“He tried to save me,” she sobbed.

“I should have done something,” I sniffed. “If only I hadn’t slipped over—he’d still be alive.”

I suddenly had a thought and got up quickly—pain shot through my shinbone. I ignored it and stamped my foot. Emma supported me around the waist.

“Are you okay?” she said.

“Yeah—I just gave myself a dead leg, I think—nothing feels broken.” I turned round and looked over the parapet. “I’ve got to get down there—he might still be alive.”

“Steve.” Emma tugged my sleeve. “Look.”

I looked over my shoulder. A platoon of white-furred and begoggled guards were streaming towards us from the direction of the CASTLE AMUSEMENTS CO building. More were running along the walkway from the infirmary.

“We could jump,” I said.

“No thanks,” said Emma. “You can if you like.”

“No, I’ll stay with you,” I said, giving her a funny look.

“Hands up!” ordered the nearest guard, brandishing a huge rapid-loading tranquillizer rifle, with what looked like electronic imaging and guidance systems incorporated in it. It looked like a gun enthusiast’s wet dream.

We stuck our hands up.

“There’re two guys down there—” I tried to explain.

“—Shut up!” he screamed.

“One of them’s yours—the other one’s Doctor Zirconion—he’s very important—send a rescue party down—”

He lurched forward and jabbed me in the stomach with the nose of his gun. “Stop talking! Lie down on the floor!”

“No,” I said. I dropped my hands down by my sides.

He aimed his gun at me. Others flanked round us to back him up.

“Get down!” he barked.

I put my hands on my head. Emma did the same.

“Just cut the crap and take us back,” I said. “I want to speak to an officer.”

“Over there—quickly—move it!” he yapped, swinging the barrel of his big gun in the direction of the CASTLE AMUSEMENTS CO building.

Emma and I held hands and started walking, keeping one hand on our head. But one of the other guards took offence and ordered us not to touch each other and put our hands back up. The only other place I can remember ever being told not to hold hands with another human being was at school. But I was weary and I was cold, and getting inside seemed like a good idea, so I didn’t argue with him.

The next thing I knew—guards were running and shouting behind us. I looked back and saw dozens of them retreating down the steps of the infirmary. Our guards ordered us to get down and took up defensive positions along the wall. Most dropped to one knee, but some, in advanced positions, actually lay down in the snow and took aim. A fluorescent greenish-yellow light was pulsing from the infirmary door.

“What the hell is it?” I said, thinking aloud.

“A rave?” said Emma.

Suddenly, two thirty-foot-long tentacles shot out of the porchway and whipped their way down the steps, scattering a few courageous guards, who had stood their ground. Those still in the courtyard turned tail and ran for their lives.

“Hold your positions! Hold your position!” crackled a voice from the PA system in the communications building.

Two more tentacles snaked out of the infirmary door, only these had rows of suckers on them and were much thicker. We all watched in awe. Speechless. And then the porchway exploded and the enormous domed head of a giant squid emerged—glowing with green light, its huge black eyes, staring and malevolent.

“Brunswick?” I murmured.

“What?” said Emma.

Some of our guards broke ranks and ran away along the battlement towards the CASTLE AMUSEMENTS CO block.

“It’s a giant squid,” I said. “The Duck had one just like it in a tank at Duckworth Hall, only he said it was just a baby one. Do you believe in co-incidences?”

“No way,” said Emma. “Maybe it escaped.”

“Yeah, and then it grew up, jumped in a time machine and came looking for its owner,” I said, not taking my eyes off it. It seemed to have stalled in the porchway for a moment or two, though one of its tentacles was slowly feeling its way up the infirmary wall towards the top of the tower.

The loudspeaker burst into life again:

“On the count of three—you will all fire!” announced a somewhat shaky voice. “One…two—”

He didn’t reach three. The giant squid’s mouth flap had peeled back, revealing its massive beak, and shocked everyone into silence. Judging by the man’s body lying on the ground at the top of the steps, it was about the size of a small aviary.

“Jemmons!” I exclaimed. “That’s Jemmons! Wait here, Em.”

I dashed off along the battlement, hopping, skipping, and jumping over the soldiers lying about, waiting to fire their weapons. I think they were so amazed to see me actually running towards the creature that they let me pass—they probably wanted to see what the beast would do to me. All I could think about was dragging Jemmons out of harm’s way. I heard echoing footfalls behind me and looked round. It was Emma.

“Three!” boomed the loudspeaker.

A shower of missiles rained over onto the infirmary from the communications block. Emma and I hit the deck. More electric darts and tranquillizer tracers whined and zinged over our heads, homing in on the big target. I pressed my face into the snow and shut my eyes.

An almighty squawk reverberated around the walls, followed by several piercing screams, a strange slopping sound and multiple crashes and scrapes. I raised my eyes. The squid was gone. I heard firing behind me and looked round. The depleted squad of guards, who had remained with us on the wall, had turned to their right and were firing across court at the communications block. Only there wasn’t much left of it—it was enveloped by the largest animal I had ever seen in my life—the giant squid. It was clinging to it like a gigantic hand and ripping it apart in several places at once, its undulating sets of tentacles working in tandem. Like the Duck said, the thing had five pairs—two extra long feeder tentacles and four pairs of suckered ones. It was trashing that building and nothing could stop it—the shooting from our side was merely a minor annoyance to it, which it dealt with in a vaguely flippant manner. It simply lifted its backside—if I may call it that—and squirted a pungent brown jet of ink at the guards, who all fell about screaming and holding their eyes.

“On your marks,” I said, getting up into a sprint start position and turning round to make sure Emma had heard me. “Set?”

“Just go!” snapped Emma.

We set off at pace and both skidded and fell over when we tried to take the first corner too fast. We ended up rolling in a heap up against the side door of the infirmary. Incredibly, when we both sat up we were both laughing. I stopped laughing and leaned over and kissed her on the lips. She kissed me back. And then we had a proper one. You know, an adult one—tongues, loving moans, ruffling of hair—oh, I could dwell, I could dwell…

“Wait here,” I said, looking lovingly into her eyes.

She thumped me in the arm. “Will you stop telling me to ‘wait here’ all the time—I’m coming with you,” she said.

“Please, Em,” I said. “I’m just going to check Jemmons, he might be in a bit of a mess—then I’m going to get the boards—if there’s anything left of them—and then we’re getting out of here. I think I know how to find the Princess’ time machine.”

She heaved a big sigh. “Don’t be long.”

“I won’t.”

I glanced across at the giant squid, which was still noisily tearing the communications block to pieces. Only now all the shooting had stopped and it was—I fancied—going about its work in a more leisurely manner, sort of enjoying itself, rather like a dog gnawing contentedly at a nice big juicy bone.

“Keep an eye on that thing,” I nodded.

I snuck round the corner and to my surprise found Jemmons sitting up with his back resting against a pillar, watching our friend vandalising the Castle.

“Rog!” I called.

“Stevie!” he grinned.

I crouched down next to him. “You all right?”

“I’ve felt better,” he said, reaching under and rubbing his backside. “Mind you, that warms the cockles of my heart.” He nodded over at the giant squid.

“Can you walk?”

“I reckon so.”

I helped him up. He rubbed his ribs and leaned against the pillar again.

Just then we heard a noise from inside the infirmary—like someone stepping on broken glass.

“What was that?” I said.

Jemmons raised a finger to his lips and craned his neck round the pillar.

“Steve?” called Emma.

“Emma?” I stepped out into the open.

Emma appeared in the smashed doorway.

“How did you get in there?”

“The side door was open.” She picked her way through the debris and came to join us.

“Anyone else in there?” I said suspiciously.

She shook her head. “No. They’ve all gone.” She smiled at Jemmons. “You must be Roger.”

“And you must be the Emma he’s always talking about—now I can see why,” beamed Jemmons.

“Wait a minute,” I said, looking past her into the wrecked hospital ward. “Where’s the Princess?”

Emma looked back. “She’s not in there. They must have taken her with them.”

“I think it’s time we got the hell out of here,” I said. “Help me with these boards.”

We all picked up an armful of boards and headed round to the west wall.

“I’ve got bad news about the Duck, Rog.”

I told Jemmons what had happened on the way. I could see the news deeply saddened him. The snow was scarce now, flying about like bits and bobs of lace against the black sky. Jemmons and I looked over the wall. Emma refused to look and hung back.

“That’s the turret where the Duck fell.” I pointed.

“I can’t see him,” said Jemmons, screwing up his eyes and straining his neck to look along the foot of the wall.

“The snow must have buried him,” I said.

“We’d better get down there,” said Jemmons.

“Let go of me! Get off!” shrieked Emma.

We spun round—a begoggled guard had grabbed Emma from behind and was holding the tip of his shock stick to her temple. Jemmons lurched forward—I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back.

“One more step and I’ll fry her brain!” snapped the guard.

“What’s the problem, mate?” I smiled.

“You will all come with me.”

“Where?” I said.

He hesitated. He didn’t seem to know. Maybe all the carnage had confused him, I thought—he’s indecisive. I seized the moment.

“What’s the point?” I said. “This place is history—that thing is going to total it before it’s through.”

He glanced across at the colossal squid, which was still contentedly gnawing away at the communications block. I noticed that two of its tentacles were reaching inside and groping about, like a kid playing with a doll’s house.

“The fleet is coming—it will be destroyed,” he said.

“You think?” I said. “Maybe you should think about getting out of here yourself.”

“I-I must remain at my station.”

“Listen,” I said. “Why don’t you forget all that rules and regulations mumbo jumbo and go and see if you can find your mates—they might be hurt and need your help. Let us go.”

“No! Forbidden! Mutants! Seed of Satan—must eradicate the sperm of the devil—” he ranted.

“—John?” I said. “Is that you?”

His head tilted. I could see my own reflection in the black perspex of his goggles.

“Is that you, man?” I said, making myself look all smiley and pleased to see him.

“You know this droid?” said Jemmons.

“We go way back, don’t we, John?” I opened my arms to step forward and embrace him.

“Stay back!” he cried. He depressed the button on his shock stick, it crackled and emitted tiny blue lightning bolts from the tip.

“Steve!” exclaimed Emma, in alarm.

“Hey, love and peace, man,” I grinned. “The meaning of life is to live a meaningful life—remember, Johnny?”

“Don’t move—I’ll burn her!”

“Come on, man—that’s Emma—you remember Emma, don’t you, Johnny?”

I was convinced my amateur psychology was working and I could win him over with charm, just like I did before. But he wasn’t having any of it. He suddenly took a swipe at me with his stick. Jemmons had seen enough—he lunged and grabbed my former devotee’s wrist and slung him around. I abandoned the counselling and joined in. I got hold of his other arm—still locked around Emma’s neck—before he squeezed the life out of her. His goggles got knocked off in the struggle and we faced each other momentarily, eyeball-to-eyeball.

“Don’t do this, man,” I said.

He tried to fling me off. Jemmons and I both held onto him. But he was way too strong. Jemmons, however, had been a former arm-wrestling champion on board His Majesty’s Ships and was more of a match for him. He managed to twist the shock stick from his grip and make him drop it. And then I was on my own for a few terrifying seconds, clinging to the droid’s back, while Jemmons bent down to pick up the stick. He was turning Emma and me around and around and we were in danger of spinning off the wall and down into the courtyard with him. And then I heard a loud whack followed by electrical crackles and spits. Smoke started to billow from the guard’s sparking head.

It was whirling round and round, out of control, but it still wouldn’t release Emma. I did the only thing I could think of to make it stop—I rugby tackled it. The android and Emma and I crunched to the ground. Jemmons fell on it and wrenched its arm from Emma’s throat and I pulled her clear. We all stepped back. The android climbed to its feet and continued to turn round and round in circles. And then its head exploded and the headless body staggered off along the walkway towards the CASTLE AMUSEMENTS CO building, bumping into things and tripping over, but never quite managing to fall off the wall.

“You blew his mind,” I said.

Suddenly, there was a loud WHEEEE noise and we all looked up to see that a bright red firework had exploded high up in the night sky above the Castle.

“Fireworks?” I said.

“That’s a naval maroon,” said Jemmons. “The squadron must be on its way. Come on—we’d better get out of here before they start shelling.”

“Shelling?” I exclaimed. “The Castle?”

“Aye,” said Jemmons. “With incendiaries—to do for that thing.”

“But what about all the prisoners—the guards?”

“There’re bunkers in the basement. They’ll close the fire doors.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Emma, hands on hips.

We all hurried along the battlement walkway to the corner turret.

“Right,” said Jemmons. “I’ve got an idea—Emma first.”

“No!” cried Emma. “I’m not going first.”

We heard the characteristic Doppler effect of a whistling incoming missile. Followed by a massive explosion—but it was outside the wall on the eastern side. A ball of fiery smoke rolled up. A foul smell wafted over.

“What is that smell?” I complained.

“Sulphur dioxide,” said Jemmons. “They use brimstone in the incendiaries.”

“How Old Testament. It smells like rotten eggs.”

“That was a range finder,” said Jemmons. “Come on—there’s not much time. Emma, hold onto Stephen’s ankles and I’ll lower you both over the wall. You shouldn’t have far to drop.”

“No way,” said Emma.

There were two more incoming whistles and the whole battlement rocked, huge explosions of flame burst over the courtyard. The giant squid reared two rows of tentacles and let out a defiant squawk. More fire bombs rained in wobbling our turret, making it feel flimsy, one of them scored a direct hit on the infirmary, which was immediately enveloped in flames. The heat on the battlement was now so intense it felt like someone had opened a kiln door.

“How do we do this?” shouted Emma, above the racket of whistling bombs, crackling flames and the shrieking squid.

“Stephen, you get up on the wall and take my hands,” said Jemmons. I duly climbed up and took his hands. “Now, you, Emma, climb onto Stephen’s back and slowly slide down until you feel your feet kick the side of the wall. Then you feel about and find his ankles and hold on as tightly as you can. Got that?”

“I think so,” said Emma.

Emma got up on the wall and gingerly lowered herself onto my back.

“I had no idea this was going to be so nice,” I said.

“Don’t make me laugh,” said Emma.

“Sorry.”

“Right, now push yourself down him, Emma,” said Jemmons. “That’s it.”

She stalled. “I can’t—I can’t!” she cried.

“Keep going, Em,” I said. “This place is going to be barbecued any minute.”

The well of the courtyard was a raging wall of flame, virtually obscuring the communications block from view—the giant squid appeared to be gone.

I felt her start to move again, very slowly.

“Oh, my God!” I cried.

“What?” said Emma. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Look!”

They followed my stunned gaze—the Princess was running towards us along the burning battlement, leaping through flames.

“Stephen!” she waved.

She bounded up onto the turret.

“But you were dead,” I said.

She swivelled her hip round and showed us a rip in the back of her biggles. “Look,” she said. “The knife went in here, but it missed every vital organ and now the wound has sort of sealed up—it did not even bleed very much.”

We all stared at the tear she was holding open for us. There was a small red gash where the blade had gone in, but nothing else. Her biggles, however, was split and torn all over and she was showing plenty of flesh. But she was so glamorous that she reminded me of an exotic dancer rather than a woman who had just been in a war zone.

“That is remarkable,” I said.

Suddenly, the CASTLE AMUSEMENTS CO building exploded and burst into a ball of flame—we all flinched. Shards of burning plastic cascaded into the air and drifted down over the hillside like tickertape.

“Where is Doctor Zirconion?” she said.

“He’s already down there,” said Jemmons. “Give me a hand here, Your Highness.”

Emma was holding me tightly around the waist and resting her cheek against my back. She felt snug and warm on me. I think that was as far down my body as she was prepared to go. Jemmons settled for that and he and the Princess began lowering us down the outside of the wall. Emma let out a few quiet squeals of unease, but held on bravely. I kept my eyes on Jemmons’s face, watching the signs of extreme exertion increase as he bore the weight of us both. I couldn’t see the Princess and assumed she must be anchoring him. And then, to my alarm, Jemmons himself started to come over the battlement—headfirst—and even he looked surprised. He was now holding my hands like a trapeze artiste—while the Princess stood up on the tower and held him by the ankles!

“Let go, Em!” I gasped. “You’re not far.”

She unclamped her hands and I felt her weight leave me immediately. I heard Jemmons let out a sigh of relief—and then the thud of Emma in the snow.

“Okay, Em?” I called, unable to see her, with my face turned to the wall. She was directly behind me somewhere.

“Okay!” she called up.

“Look out,” I said. I let go and dropped onto the bank of powdery snow, landed both feet, fell backwards and pitched into a drift. Emma’s hands were quickly on me, helping me up. Then we both stood aside and watched Jemmons push himself off the wall with his hands and fly out. He must have dived about ten or twelve feet, but rolled harmlessly down the slope, buffered by the deep snow. Not bad for an old guy. Emma and I waded through the drifts and pulled him to his feet. Then we all looked up at the tower. The Princess was gone! We looked to one another in puzzlement. Her head suddenly appeared again. She held up two snowboards.

“Coming down!” she yelled.

We cleared the area fast. The two boards sailed out and plummeted into the snow. Two more quickly followed. And then the last. We continued to look up. She just stepped off the parapet of the turret and tombstoned down the whole fifty or so feet, without any hesitation. None of us could believe it when she sank into a drift, got up, brushed the snow off herself, and calmly waded towards us.

“So,” she said. “Where is the Doctor? He has something of mine, I think.”

“You mean the key?” I said.

I felt Emma poke me in the back.

She smoothed my shoulder with her hand. A smile broke across her lips. “Exactly, my darling.”

“He’s over here,” said Jemmons, standing over a mound.

We all trudged over to where Jemmons was now digging in the snow. I picked up a board and began digging.

“Careful,” said Jemmons. “There’s his head.”

He fell on his knees and reached down into the pit and brushed the compacted snow from the pale tenant’s face.

“He’s still got his glasses on,” I said.

The Princess wriggled in and nudged Jemmons aside with her hip and placed her ear on the Duck’s chest. “Stand back,” she commanded.

I felt Emma’s hand fill mine as we stood and watched the Princess administering CPR. Jemmons watched her, too, for a moment or two and then continued to excavate the rest of the Duck’s body. Emma and I fell to our knees and helped him. As I dug, my fingers struck something smooth and hard. I knew instantly what it was—I glanced across at the Princess to make sure she wasn’t looking and then at Emma, who was busy clearing snow. I slipped it into my pocket and carried on digging. The Princess worked feverishly on her patient, only pausing from her alternate heart massage and mouth-to-mouth to put her ear again to the Duck’s chest to listen.

“He’s still breathing!” she said. “We need something to warm him up.”

“The guard’s coat!” I said. “He must be around here somewhere. Come on, Em—let’s find him.”

Emma and I set off to find the guard, who had fallen nearby. We both spotted a foot sticking up out of the snow and went about our macabre business—like Burke and Hare. I felt particularly squeamish about this spot of grave robbing, because I held myself directly responsible for his death. We sank our hands into the snow and dug down to his lifeless body.

“I can’t look,” I said. “Is he dead?”

“Well, his cameras are off,” said Emma.

“Cameras? What cameras? My God—he’s an android!”

“Come on—help me get his coat off,” said Emma, undoing the first toggle.

“I’m really glad he’s not human,” I said. “That would make it murder. I wonder what you call it when you kill an android.”

“Self-defence,” said Emma.

We got one sleeve off and turned him over.

“Technically speaking, there was intent,” I said. “I mean, in a court of law, I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.”

“Neither would he, look—it’s come off,” said Emma.

“Oh don’t—don’t pull it, Em—for God’s sake show some respect.”

“Look, it’s got all wires and bits inside,” she said.

“Stop poking about in there!”

“I’m only looking. Ugh! What’s that?”

I peered in. “It looks like a fried egg.”

“Do androids eat fried eggs?”

I resisted the temptation to say “and chips,” for a few seconds. “And chips,” I said.

“What? I don’t get it.”

“You know: chips.”

“No, it’s no good,” said Emma. “I can’t ketchup.”

I scooped a handful of snow in her face. “Oh, shut up!”

She grabbed up two handfuls and slapped them into my ears. And we fell about laughing and pulling each other around. It was just like the old days. When we used to have pillow-fights on Sunday morn—

“Hurry up with that coat, you pair!” yelled Jemmons.

Emma gave me one last push and bounded back with the fur. I chased after her, throwing snow at her back.

Jemmons directed me to take the Duck’s legs and we lifted him out and laid him on the coat, which Emma and the Princess had spread out on the snow.

Another ground-shaking explosion erupted in the Castle and we all threw ourselves down and covered our heads with our hands.

“That was close,” I said.

“Look!” said Emma, pointing to the turret we had been standing on just a few minutes earlier. It had grown into a pillar of flames and thick black toxic smoke.

“It’s time we shoved off—tempus fugit,” said Jemmons, offering me a hand up. He pulled me up a little too strongly and I barged into him. He stood me up straight and brushed me down. “Sorry, matey,” he beamed.

“You don’t know your own strength,” I said. “What about the Duck?”

The Princess had put his arms in the coat and was just doing it up. The Duck looked like a big baby having his nappy changed, lying there on the snow, especially when the Princess sat him up and gave him a cuddle against her breast. She was just trying to warm him up I guess.

“How are we going to get him down?” I said.

“I can use the straps from his board to strap him to my back, Stephen.”

“Can you manage that?”

“Oh, I think so,” she said. “Do you still have the key?” she added, in a whisper.

“Yeah, it’s in my—very clever, Princess,” I smiled.

“The old one’s are the best,” she grinned. “Give it to me.”

“I think I’ll just hang onto it till we reach the bottom,” I said.

“You do not trust me, my love?”

“You can trust me this time,” I said, patting her on the head.

I moved away from her and looked down the hillside—it seemed steeper now that we were actually on it, than it had looked from the top of the wall. I trudged over and picked up my board and Emma’s.

“I don’t think I can do this,” said Emma.

“Of course you can—it’s easy,” I said. “All you have to do is strap your feet on the board and—”

“—I’m just going to sit on and hold onto the straps like a rein,” said Jemmons.

“Yes,” said Emma. “I think that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Please yourselves,” I said.

I started strapping my feet on my board. I’d done a bit of skateboarding and package holiday skiing in my time, so I was fairly confident I could make it. Once I had mine on securely I slid down to the Princess to see if she needed a hand. But she had it sussed. Emma and Jemmons were still trying to figure out a comfortable way of sitting on theirs.

“Need any help?” I said.

She hoisted the Duck onto her shoulders in a fireman’s lift. “Just give me that strap—I will tie him to me so that he doesn’t slip,” she said.

I passed her one of the straps that she had already stripped from the Duck’s board and she wound it round the Duck’s wrists. As I was standing there, waiting to go, I felt in my left pocket for the glass key. It wasn’t there. I thought I’d just forgotten which pocket I’d put it in. I dug into my right pocket—the key was gone!

“Are we all set?” said the Princess.

Jemmons and Emma both waved.

“Wait a minute,” I said to her, out of the corner of my mouth.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Have you lost something?” she said.

I looked at her sharply. “Did you take it?”

She shook her head. “You placed it in your right pocket, Stephen.”

“You saw me do that?”

“I see everything you do, Stephen—I can’t take my eyes off you, darling.”

“I must have dropped it—I’ll retrace my steps—”

“—No—don’t worry, Jemmons has it,” she said.

“Roger? But?” I looked across at Jemmons. He was sitting next to Emma, talking to her, and steadying her board for her. Butter wouldn’t melt. “Are you sure?”

“When he helped you up—he brushed you down—that’s when he took it,” she nodded.

“But why? Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know,” said the Princess. “We’d better keep an eye on him—he might be working for Corrective Measures.”

“Are you playing mind games with me, Princess?”

“I only lie when I have to,” she said.

“That’s all right then,” I laughed.

“Are we going down this bloody mountain or what?” shouted Emma.

“After you, Ms Gummer,” said the Princess.

“Come on, Roger—let’s show them,” said Emma.

Emma and Jemmons set off together at a sedate speed, slowing themselves down with their feet as they went.

“Be careful, Em!” I said.

I turned the nose of my board downhill and took off. The Princess was right alongside me in a flash. We shot past Emma and Jemmons and I had to begin zigzagging to slow myself down a bit. But the Princess kept up her speed, whizzed straight past me, and was soon a tiny blob in the blankness. I traversed to a slower section of the slope and looked back over my shoulder. Emma and Jemmons were way back and behind them rose the raging inferno of the Castle, belching out clouds of dense black smoke and sheets of flame.

As I picked up speed again, the wind became keener—and made me want to slow up. It flapped the sleeves and bottoms of my biggles and chilled me to the bone, but I was enjoying myself. It had been years since I’d been on a board and I was loving the sensation of effortless motion, controlled by the merest movement of my body. I even took on a few mounds and did some stunt stuff. But I was always slowing right down and looking back to check where Emma and Jemmons were. I saw Emma fall off once and waited to see her get safely back on her board again. Jemmons waited for her, too. He was taking good care of her. Good old Roger, I thought. I looked down the hillside—there was no sign of the Princess! How could I have been so stupid? It suddenly hit me—I’d been suckered! She had taken the key and thrown me off the scent by casting suspicion on Jemmons. I had taken my eye off the ball—I had my eye on the wrong ball—I should have been watching the Princess! I pushed off and shot after her, getting myself into my trademark skateboard crouch—the jetscreamer, as I used to call it. It consisted of one arm forward, one arm back, chin jutting, knees bent as low as they could go. I was really motoring down that hillside. The board was cutting the snow with a satisfying swishing noise as I travelled over it. And then, suddenly, the snow ran out, just vanished from under me, and I was sailing out and out into nothing but air. I looked down. I had just run right off a cliff.