thought they cared about me. They couldn’t have kids for years, though they tried every spell in the book. And then I came along. But they didn’t like me, and nothing I do is good enough for them. I’ve spent most of my time in my own wing of the palace, with a couple of servants and my tutor, Terence Banshee.”
“You liked him.”
“Yes, Terence is great.” Pindar’s voice was sad. “They banished him to the mines. He had a copy of Clarence Mustard’s
Anti-Falconer Handbook
. Just before his arrest he told me about Iris Moth. But I wasn’t brave enough to run away until last week.”
If Mum had been here, Tom thought, her kind heart would have bled for Pindar. She would’ve said nice things to him, given him cake and perhaps kissed him good night. Tom couldn’t do any of this, but he did want to make his cousin feel he had at least one good friend.
“I’m glad you did run away,” he said.
“Thanks—me too.”
It should have been rather weird to share a room with this stranger, yet it felt oddly comfortable, as if he had known his newly discovered cousin all his life. “Good night, Pindar—nice to meet you.”
“Good night, Tom—nice to meet you, too.”
11
The Message
A lmost at once, Tom fell into a dream. He was on a beautiful white beach—he knew he was dreaming, but at the same time it seemed incredibly real. He felt the heavy heat of the sun and the soft sand under his feet, and heard the sighing of the waves.
His mother was lying under a big umbrella, holding a red drink full of fruit. She wore a bikini and looked very happy.
In the dream she wasn’t surprised to see him. “Tom! Isn’t this lovely?”
“Fantastic.” If this had been real life, Tom would have hugged her and bombarded her with questions, but inthe dream, he was quite casual. He sat down in the shade beside her. “What’ve you been up to, Mum?”
“Oh, just lazing about and having fun,” Mum said. “I’ve started pottery classes.”
“Great.”
She sipped her drink. “And I do a lot of thinking. I see everything from here. Before I forget, I must tell you something very interesting I know about Pindar.”
“Pindar?” Even in the middle of his dream, Tom was startled to hear his cousin’s name.
“He thinks his mother didn’t love him—but he’s wrong. She loved him very much, Tom, every bit as much as I love you.” She lay back on her sun lounger. “And when you see your dad, tell him it’s just like Snow White.”
Tom was awake, in a sunlit bedroom, with his mother’s voice ringing in his ears. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what she meant. When he was little he had loved the Disney film, but now he couldn’t remember anything about it except the dwarfs. And what was all that about Pindar?
Things that appear hugely important in dreams often seem very silly when you’re properly awake. Tom shook the whole thing out of his head and sat up in bed.
Pindar came out of the bathroom rubbing his head with a towel. “Morning, Tom—d’you think there’s any breakfast? You won’t believe it, but I’m starving again.”
Tom decided not to tell him about the dream. From everything he’d heard about Pindar’s mother, it didn’t sound likely that she loved him so much. And his cousin had reminded him that he was also very hungry. “Me too—it must be something about staying up late. Let’s go downstairs and see if there’s any food.”
They found the fairy godmothers in the drawing room—or what had been the drawing room and now looked like a futuristic beauty clinic. The three fairies lay on couches, wearing nothing but white towels, while three of Dahlia’s enslaved husbands rubbed cream into their faces.
“Look, here are the boys,” Lorna said through her cream. “Can we stop now?”
“No,” Dahlia said firmly. “Your skin’s in a shocking state.”
“It’s not right, that’s all—this man used to own an airline! He shouldn’t be giving beauty
“You liked him.”
“Yes, Terence is great.” Pindar’s voice was sad. “They banished him to the mines. He had a copy of Clarence Mustard’s
Anti-Falconer Handbook
. Just before his arrest he told me about Iris Moth. But I wasn’t brave enough to run away until last week.”
If Mum had been here, Tom thought, her kind heart would have bled for Pindar. She would’ve said nice things to him, given him cake and perhaps kissed him good night. Tom couldn’t do any of this, but he did want to make his cousin feel he had at least one good friend.
“I’m glad you did run away,” he said.
“Thanks—me too.”
It should have been rather weird to share a room with this stranger, yet it felt oddly comfortable, as if he had known his newly discovered cousin all his life. “Good night, Pindar—nice to meet you.”
“Good night, Tom—nice to meet you, too.”
11
The Message
A lmost at once, Tom fell into a dream. He was on a beautiful white beach—he knew he was dreaming, but at the same time it seemed incredibly real. He felt the heavy heat of the sun and the soft sand under his feet, and heard the sighing of the waves.
His mother was lying under a big umbrella, holding a red drink full of fruit. She wore a bikini and looked very happy.
In the dream she wasn’t surprised to see him. “Tom! Isn’t this lovely?”
“Fantastic.” If this had been real life, Tom would have hugged her and bombarded her with questions, but inthe dream, he was quite casual. He sat down in the shade beside her. “What’ve you been up to, Mum?”
“Oh, just lazing about and having fun,” Mum said. “I’ve started pottery classes.”
“Great.”
She sipped her drink. “And I do a lot of thinking. I see everything from here. Before I forget, I must tell you something very interesting I know about Pindar.”
“Pindar?” Even in the middle of his dream, Tom was startled to hear his cousin’s name.
“He thinks his mother didn’t love him—but he’s wrong. She loved him very much, Tom, every bit as much as I love you.” She lay back on her sun lounger. “And when you see your dad, tell him it’s just like Snow White.”
Tom was awake, in a sunlit bedroom, with his mother’s voice ringing in his ears. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what she meant. When he was little he had loved the Disney film, but now he couldn’t remember anything about it except the dwarfs. And what was all that about Pindar?
Things that appear hugely important in dreams often seem very silly when you’re properly awake. Tom shook the whole thing out of his head and sat up in bed.
Pindar came out of the bathroom rubbing his head with a towel. “Morning, Tom—d’you think there’s any breakfast? You won’t believe it, but I’m starving again.”
Tom decided not to tell him about the dream. From everything he’d heard about Pindar’s mother, it didn’t sound likely that she loved him so much. And his cousin had reminded him that he was also very hungry. “Me too—it must be something about staying up late. Let’s go downstairs and see if there’s any food.”
They found the fairy godmothers in the drawing room—or what had been the drawing room and now looked like a futuristic beauty clinic. The three fairies lay on couches, wearing nothing but white towels, while three of Dahlia’s enslaved husbands rubbed cream into their faces.
“Look, here are the boys,” Lorna said through her cream. “Can we stop now?”
“No,” Dahlia said firmly. “Your skin’s in a shocking state.”
“It’s not right, that’s all—this man used to own an airline! He shouldn’t be giving beauty
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