The tree thieves were quick. Supple branches were in and out of Hattie’s pockets in a moment. They frisked her body. They checked her hair. They fumbled behind her ears. And they found all the things her mother always complained shouldn’t be in her pockets, as well as the things even she didn’t know she had. They found sweet wrappers. And hair grips. And a handkerchief. They found a torch. And a magnifying glass. And a stethoscope. They found a dog whistle. And a carrier bag. And a beaker. But they didn’t find what they wanted.
‘You’ve disappointed again,’ the bench said as Hattie gazed at the contents of her pocket scattered at her feet.
‘Don’t they put anything back?’ Hattie asked as the branches pulled away.
‘Not unless there are exceptional circumstances.’
‘And these circumstances aren’t exceptional?’
‘It seems not.’
‘What were you looking for?’ Hattie shouted at the clearing.
‘Shhhhhh,’ the bench said. ‘You don’t want them to find you.’
‘Who?’
‘Them. It’s my understanding that you’re travelling without a permit. You need to be very careful. And anyway, you won’t get an answer from a tree.’
‘But what were they looking for?’ Hattie asked. She was whispering now.
‘The Lost Seal.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Oh, you know, only the key to everything.’
‘No, really?’
‘Really.’ The bench snorted. ‘They say that if it’s back in Somewhere-Nowhere, the clouds will return.’
‘How did it get lost?’
The bench sighed. ‘I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. Part of the seal disappeared after the Battle of the Three Volcanoes, when Lord Mortimer fought his brother, Lord Jasper — only most people round here call him The Traitor, because he was our ruler until he went and married one of you lot.’
‘What do you mean “one of you lot”?’
‘People from your realm. He went and married one of them, and that didn’t go down well with the inhabitants of Somewhere-Nowhere.’
‘Don’t you like us?’
‘It’s not so much about liking. More about fear. Everyone’s afraid of the humans from your realm. And they thought that if one of them married our ruler, the other humans from your realm would be bound to get to know about us.’
‘But I’ve seen humans here. The guards are human, aren’t they?’
‘Yes, and so’s Lord Mortimer. So’s The Traitor himself. But they’re all from Somewhere-Nowhere, not from your realm.’
‘What’s so wrong with us?’
‘You’d destroy us.’
‘No we wouldn’t.’
‘Yes, you would. That’s what you do — even when you don’t mean to.’
Hattie thought for a moment. She didn’t like the idea that the inhabitants of Somewhere-Nowhere might be frightened of all the people she knew. And the more she thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense. ‘So if you don’t want us to know about you, why does the Time Worm steal the clouds? And why were Victor and Sir Gideon in my house?’
‘We need your clouds.’ The bench took another deep breath. ‘Plus, Lord Mortimer thinks the Lost Seal might be somewhere in the human world. And until he has the Lost Seal, he can’t have complete control over Somewhere-Nowhere. Not everyone thinks he should be our ruler. Some want to lead a rebellion against him, just like he rebelled against his own brother. But if Lord Mortimer has the Lost Seal and the clouds return, he’ll be safe. His enemies won’t be able to blame him for the drought and raise an army against him.’
Beneath Hattie, the bench shifted, and she felt herself slipping. She stood up.
‘Thank you for finally having the manners to get off me,’ the bench said.
‘But I thought benches were for sitting on.’
‘Only if you ask and they say “yes”.’
‘Sorry,’ Hattie said. She put the hair grip and the handkerchief and the magnifying glass into her pocket. And she was just picking up the torch when a voice asked, ‘Does it work?’
‘Yes,’ Hattie said, thinking that the voice didn’t sound like the bench.
‘Good.’ Something snatched the torch from Hattie’s hand and turned it on. A bright light shone straight into her eyes, blinding her.
‘Who are you?’ the voice asked.
‘Hattie.’
‘Hattie who?’
‘Hattie Brown.’
‘A human-realm child. Are you one of the Hundredth Children?’ The torch shifted slightly, and now that it wasn’t shining straight in her eyes, Hattie thought she could see something fluttering in front of her. She blinked some more, to let her eyes adjust, then she saw exactly what it was. Another tiny dragon. Only this one was a beautiful golden colour. And every time she moved, her scales shimmered as though they were sprinkled with gold dust.
Hattie stiffened. Was this dragon going to be like Sir Gideon? Was she going to want to lock Hattie up in a cage? Hattie tried to think what her mother would say in a situation like this. Or what her mother would say when The Gloom hadn’t got her. Her feisty mother who didn’t mind leaving the house. The mother who was happy to go to the shops. But Hattie’s feisty mother was rarer and rarer now, and Hattie’s memories of her were hazy. She couldn’t easily summon her up as her guide. She’d have to rely on her own instincts instead.
‘No, I’m not one of the Hundredth Children.’ Hattie tried to sound defiant.
The torch focused back on her face. ‘Not one of the Hundredth Children?’ The dragon’s golden head cocked to the side. ‘That’s interesting. Do you have a permit?’
‘No. Victor brought me here. And a dragon called Sir Gideon.’
‘Sir Gideon.’ The dragon’s voice cackled as the torch began to wobble. ‘Sir Gideon!’ The torch moved frantically. ‘Sir Gideon!’ The voice cackled again. ‘He brought you here?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Then how do you know him?’
‘He was in my house.’
‘I knew it. I knew it,’ the delighted dragon screeched. ‘He thought you were Nimbus.’
‘Not really.’
‘He thought YOU were Nimbus.’ The dragon’s screech grew louder. ‘You with that strange mound of hair on your head and your big bulging pockets.’ The dragon swooped down. ‘And those clumpy boots. I bet you think they look great because they’re covered with flowers.’
Hattie looked down at her boots. ‘But I like…’ she began.
The dragon darted up again. ‘Sir Gideon brought you here without a permit because he thought you were Nimbus,’ she said. ‘Only you’re not.’
‘Who’s Nimbus, and why’s everyone so bothered about whether Sir Gideon thought that’s who I am?’
‘Nimbus is the heir to the ruler of Somewhere-Nowhere,’ the golden dragon told her. ‘And I know you’re not Nimbus, because there he is.’
Behind her, Hattie heard the bench gasp. The branches of the trees swayed forward to see where the dragon was pointing.
Standing in the dappled light of the forest, watching what was happening, was a boy.
‘Hattie Brown,’ the dragon said. ‘Meet Arthur Handley-Bennett. Meet Nimbus.’